The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, March 17, 1858, Image 1

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RICH. Ili!
The union of Emerson's Magazine and Putnain's Monthly
has given to the consolidated work a circulation second to
but one similar publication in the country, and has secur
ed for it a combination of literary and artistic talent prob
ably unrivaled by any other Magazine in the world. Du
ring the first month, the sale in the trade and demand from
subscribers exceeded 90,000 copies, and the numbers al
ready issued of the consolidated work are universally con
ceded to have surpassed, in the richness of. their literary
contents, and the beauty and profuseness of their pictorial
illustrations, any magazine ever before issued from the
American press. Encouraged by thebe evidences of favor,
the publishers have determined to commence the new vol
ume in January with still additional attractions, and to
offer such inducements to subscribers, as cannot fail to
_p la c o it, in circulation, dt the head of American magazines.
Witlithis view they now announce the following splendid
programme. They have purchased that superb and costly
steel-plate engraving, •
and will present it to every three-dollar subscriber for the
year 1858. It was engraved at a cost of over $5,000, by
the,celobrated A. L. Dick, from the original of Raphael
Morghen, after Leonardo Da Vinci, and is the largest steel
plate engraving ever executed in this country, being three
times the size of the ordinary three-dollar engravings.
The first impressions of this engraving are held at ten
dollars, and it was the intention of the artist that none of
the engravings should ever be offered for a less sum than
five dollars, being richly worth that amount. Thus every
three-dollar subscriber will receive the Magazine ono year
—cheap at three dollars—and this splendid engraving,
richly worth $5; thus getting for $:.; the value of $B.
We 613a1l commence striking off the engravings immedi
ately, yet it can hardly be expected that impressions of so
large a plato can be taken as fast as they will be called
for by subscribers. We shall, therefore, furnish them in
the order in which subscriptions are received. Those who
desire to obtain their engravings early, and from the first
impressions, should send in their subscriptions without
delay. The engraving can be , ent on rollers, by mail, or
In any other manner, as subscriber: shall order.
_ _
In addition to the superb engraving of "The Last Sap
per," which will be presented to every three-dollar sub
scriber for ISSB, the publishers have completed arrange
ments for the distribution, on the 2,5 th of December, lb3S,
of a series of splendid works of art, consisting of one hun
dred rich and rare Oil Paintings, valued at from XlOO to
il,OOO each. Also 2,90 magnificent Steel-Plate Bugra
vings, worth from three to five dollars cam.h, and 1,000
choice Holiday Books, worth from ono to five dollars each,
making, in all, over /Ara thousand gilts, worth - her/11a
thousand dellorz.
Inclose $3 to tho publishers and you will commence re
ceiving the Magazine by return Mail. You will also re
ceive with the first coity'a numbered subscription receipt
vntitliug you to the engraving of
and a chance to draw ono of these "th rye thousand prizeA
Ist. Because its literary contents will, during the year,
embrace contributions from over one hundred different
writers and thinkers, numbering among them the most
distinguished of American authors. r
2d. Ilecause its editorial departments, " Our Studio,"
" Our,Window," and "Our Olio," will each be conducted
by an able editor—and it will surpasN. be the variety and
richness of its editorial contents any miler magazine.
:id. Because it will contain, during the year,,nearly six
hundred original pictorial illustrations front designs by the
ilrst American urtists. •
4th. Because for the sum of $3 you will reecho this
splendid monthly, more richly worth that suet than any
other magazine, and the superb engraving of h. Last
Supper," worth $5.
sth. luaus() you will be very likely to draw one of the
three thousand prizes to be distributed on the 23th day of
December, 1355—perhaps one that is worth
Notwithstanding that these extraordinary inducements
can hardly fail to accomplish the object of the publishers
without further efforts, yet they have determined to con
tinue through the year,
- -
To any person who will get up a club of twenty4 , er sub
scribers, either at one or more post offices. we will present
a splendid Library. consisting of over Forty Large Bound
Volumes, embracing the most popular works in the mar
ket. The club may be !brined at the club price. S 2 a year,
without the engraving, or at the full price, $3, with the
Last Supper to each subscriber•. List and description of
the Library, and specimen copy of the Magazine, will be
forwarded on receipt of 25 cents. Over 200 Libraries, or
8,000 volumes, have already been distributed in accordance
with this offer, and we should be glad of an opportunity to
furnish a Library to every school teacher, or to some one
of every post office in the country.
The'success which our agents are meeting with is almost
astonishing. Among the many evidences of this fact, we
are permitted to publish the following:
Gmirtr.stuN: The following flirts in relation to what
your Agents are doing in this section, may be of use to
some enterprising young man in want of employment.—
The Rev. John E. Jardon, of this place, has made, since
last Christmas, over• $l,OOO in his agency. Mr. David M.
Heath, of ltidgly, Mo., your general agent for Platt county,
is making $8 per (1;13 - on each sitb-agent employed by him,
and Messrs. Weimer Evans, of Oregon, 'Mo., your agents
for Holt county, are making from $8 to 20 per day, and
your humble servant has made, since the ith day of last
January, over $1,700, besides paying for 300 acres of land
out of the business worth over $l.OOO. You arc at liberty
to publish this statement, if you like, and to refer to any
of the parties named. DA:sist Clasen, Carrolton, Mo.
With such inducements as we ufil.r, anybody can obtain
subscribers. We invite every gentleman out of employ
ment, and every lady who desires a pleasant moneyma
king occupation to apply at once for an agency. Appli
cants should inclose 20 cents for a specimen copy of the
Magazine, which will always be forwarded with answer to
application by return mail.
As we desire to place in the hands of every person «ho
proposes to get up a club, and also of every agent, a copy
of the engraving of " The Last Supper," as a specimen,
each applicant inclosing us $3, will receive the engraving,
post-paid, by return mail, also specimens of our publication
and one of the numbered subscription receipts, entitling
the holder to the Magazine ono year and to achauco in the
distribution. This offer is made oniy to those who desire
,to act as agents or to form clubs. Address
No. 371 Broadway, New York.
Jan. 13, ISSB
Would respectfully announce to their numerous friends,
and public, that they - 'have just received from the East a
most beautiful assortment of FALL and WINTER Goods;
embracing every variety of new styles, such as Valencia
Plaids, Plaid Ducats, Oriental Lustres, Gala Plaids, Tameso
Cloth, Poplins striped, and plaid, ombre striped DeLaines,
French Merino, Printed DeLaines, Bay adere Stripes, Argen
tine, Coburg, Mohair and Madonna Cloths, Shepherd's
Plaids, French Blanket, Bay State, Longand Square Broche
Shawls, Gents' Travelling ditto, French Cloths, plain and
fancy Cassimeres, Satinettes, Jeans, Tweeds, &c.
Ribbons,Mitts, Gloves, Gauntlets, 'Ulnas, Cloaks, Che
nille Scars, Dress Trimmings, Ladies' Collars, Brilliants,
plain and spriged Swiss, Victoria Lawn, Nainsooks, and
every variety of white Goods. Hats, Caps, and Bonnets
of every variety and style.
Wo have a full stock of Hardware, gneensware, Boots &
Shoes, Wood and Willow ware, which will be sold on such
terms as will make it the interest of all to call and exam
Groceries can be bad lower than the high prices which
have been maintained heretofore.
We also deal in Plaster, Fish, Salt and tell kinds of Grain
and possess facilities in this branch of trade unequaled by
We deliver all packages or parcels of merchandise Free
of Charge at the Depots of the Broad Top and Tenn'a Rail
Huntingdon, Sept. 30,1557.
. 4 )171.;ThS buy CLOTHING from me In Huntingdon at
• WHOLES :OW as cheap as they can in the
cities, as I him a wholesale store in Philadelphia.
Huntingdon, Oct. 11,1857. 11. ROMAN.
WHALEBONE, Reed & Brass Hoops,
and Reed Skirts, for sale attho Cheap Store of
D. P. (TWIN.
the largest stock ever brought to town, aro selling
very cheap at FISHER .61eMURTRIES.
CLOTHING!—A large stock on hand,
at the cheap store of BEN;Y. .TAMPS. call and ex
amine goods and prise. (0ct28.1
$1 50
citiert Vactrv••
3liser, gloating o'er thy gold,
Guard it sure and well;
Bar the windows, bolt the door,
That no lips can tell
Of the gain which thou hast wrenched
From stern fortune, for its light
Is all that's left thy day of toil
To make the evening bright.
Son of genius, soaring high
O'er thy care and need,
Treasure up each burning thought
In words the world may read;
Gather the golden gossamer threads
And weave a fabric prime,
And fame shall spread the shining web
Far down the tide of time.
Matron, on whose placid lips
Falls the young child's kiss,
While over all a husband's smile
Sheds the hues of bliss,
Llidden in thy heart of hearts
Let smile and kiss and blessing be,
For time day come when thou shalt need
The wealth of memory.
Maiden, with thy heart as pure
As the mountain snow.
Yet deep and wild and passionate
As the stream that leaps below,
Treasure well the sweet perfumes
That in thy heart are stored;
Watch, lest on some unworthy shrine
Such sweetness should be poured.
Toiler for thy daily bread,
'Mid life's din and dust,
Oft-times think thee of the pearl
Committed to thy trust—
Cleanse it from its earthy begin,
Guard it as a sacred thing,
A jewel for the peerless brow
Of an immortal king.
4.el.e.ct G%tunl.
[From the N. Y. 'Weekly Despatch.]
It was a gloomy room in a crowded tene
ment house, low, narrow and unwholesome ;
and a pale-faced child was its only ininate.—
She was a confirmed invalid---you might trace
that in her hollow cheeks and the strange,
unnatural lustre of her large blue eyes-- 7 -the
flame of fire was burning low on the altar of
her childish being; yet here she was alone.
The old arm-chair in which she reclined, with
one or two pillows, and a rude pine box was
the only support of her tiny blue-veined feet.
There was no carpet on the mouldering floor,
and in more than one place door and window
had yielded to tlie remorseless hand of decay,
and presented a most dilapidated, aspect.—
Yet all the scanty furniture was arranged as
neatly as possible, and there was even some
faint attempt at taste, as, in a bit of gaily
colored chintz spread over the child's foot
stool, and a solitary flower placed in the win
dow seat, where the sunbeams could touch its
emerald leaves.
The flower ; it had been poor _Katy's com
panion long. Its royal beauty and -luxuri
ance seemed strangely out of place in the
squallid, low-coiled room; yet it grew and
flourished as if in the velvet sod of Bendeem
er's stream. And. little Katy lay back in her
comfortless chair, and looked at the splendid
rose which quivered like a ruby drop among
the leaves and watched the sunlight writing
its golden message on the crimson folds of the
blossom with a vague feeling of wonder.
It was so strange that the radiant sun,
whose glory lay on marble pillars and stately
dwellings far away, should come to peep into
her lonely, lonely room.
" Is that you, Jamie ?" said she softly, as
the door opened, and a boy of twelve years
came ir..
" Yes. Do you feel any better, Katy ?
Are you tired of being left alone ?" And the
boy looked tenderly into her blue eyes and
parted the auburn hair from her forehead
with a loving touch.
"Not very, but there is such a weary ach
ind around my heart, and. sometimes it feels
all on fire. How cool your hand feels, Jam
mie ?"
" Never mind, Katy, I've been sawing
wood, and earned a whole quarter, and am
going to lay it out in apples and oranges, to
sell down town. I'll make a mint of money,
and then wont we have . a good supper when
mother comes home from work ? I shouldn't
wonder if we had a bit of cake and a bunch
of grapes over and above the medicine the
dispensary doctor ordered for you."
Katy smiled and shook her head, as if de
preciating this piece of extravagance.
" Yes, we will, Katy," resumed her bro
ther ; "'taint often we taste anything but dry
bread and cheese, and I haven't forgotten
that its your birth-day sis—you're ten years
old to-day. Besides you need something
put a shade of color into those cheeks ;the
doctor said you must have sothething, to tempt
your appetite."
He bent down to kiss the marble forehead
as he spoke.
now lovely that rose it, to be sure 1 It's al
most as good as company to you, Katy, isn't
it. Are you willing 1. should leave you alone
for a little while, dear ?"
" Yes, Jamie, I don't mind it much," she
answered, with a deep, weary sigh, " but be
back as soon as possible, please."
And her wistful hollow eyes watched him
froin " the room with that earnest, startling
look that we only find beneath the very shad
ow of Death.
Down at the piers all was confusion and
uproar—busy passengers hurrying from new
ly arrived boats—turbid waters dashing and
rolling against mossy posts—swaying crowds
and loud, dissonant voices, created a small
bedlam around the docks, and little Jamie
wandered around with his board of fruit,
feeling very lonely and bewildered. He had
piled up the golden oranges with their sun-
nest side upward ; be bad polished the red
cheeked apples until they shone like mirrors,
yet no body stopped to buy.
" Carriage, sir ?" " Take you up to the
Astor House 2" "Up Broadway in a twink
ling, ma'am." "'Ere 's your 'Erald, Tribune,
and Times. Latest steamer from Europe!—
Have a paper, sir?"
Poor Jamie 1 Amid all this tumult, what
chance had he of being noticed ? He had
picked out the very same bunch of grapes
that he intended for Katy, in Taylor's win
dow, as he came by—a plump, apoplectic
bunch hung from a crimson thread, where
the sunshine lay full on the purple bloom,
and amethystic shadows lurked among its ful
ness of fruitage. Just at present the tempt
ing morsel seemed very far off to Jamie's im
Determined not to give way without a vig
orous effort, however, Jamie stepped boldly
forward to the first person he saw, and held
up his wares with a modest " Buy an orange,
sir ?" •
Now, as ill-fortune would have it, this pos
sible 'customer-was a fat, ill-tempered pursy
old man, whose color had -just been inflamed
to fever heat by the inadvertent descent of a
heavy nailed boot heel on his favorite corn.
At all times he considered orange boys a nui
sance, but just now his slender quota'of pa
tience was entirely exhausted. He aimed a
muttered oath a furious blow at the fair-haired
boy, and rushed past, to catch a retreating
Jamie sprang aside just - in time to escape
the brutal blow, but it descended full upon
his stock in trade, scattering apples and or
angeS far and wide! He was standing close
to the pier, and most of the fruit flew into the
water, where it went bobbing up and down
with the tide in a most tantalizing manner.
A few apples rolled under the feet of the
crowd, but it was impossible to secure them
t) Jamie's first sensation was that of indig
nant wrath; the blood rushed in angry tor
rents to his cheek and brow, and he shook
his small fist impotently in the direction which
the fat man had taken. But in an instant a
feeling of forlorn wretchedness came over
him—no tempting bit' of cake--no purple
grapes for poor Katy—perhaps not even a
supper, for he knew that his mother's wages
must go towards the rent of the room. They
depended entirely on his exertion for their
evening meal, and the sun was declining in
the west already. •
The reflection was too much for his boyish
heart, and he was sighing violently, when a
gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder. He
stated up, and before him stood a pleasant
gentleman who had watched the whole trans
There, my boy, he said, lying a, silver dol
lar in the boy's hand palm, " that will set
you up again. No thanks; the money was
intended for some piece of extravagance, and
I choose to use it thus. But remember this,
my boy, when you are pushed down in the
race, don't stop to rub your bruises, but pick
yourself up and start again 1"
Jamie thought the smile with which this
was said, the pleasantest and kindest expres
sion that ever brightened a humane face, but
ere he could stammer out his thanks, the gen
tleman was gone.
The boy started for home with-a light and
joyous heart, stopping to purchase ihe cher
ished morsels of fruit and cake on his way.
The gentleman walked leisurely up Broad
way. Seeing in a baokstore the title of a
newly-published work that he had much de
sired to read,his footsteps involuntarily turned
in that direction,
but in an instant he went
on, buttoning up his pockets and murmuring
to himself with a smile , " Can't afford it
_3 one
luxury in a, - day ought to be enough !" There
was a vast difference between the man and
child in their capacities for enjoyment, but
both were happy that night.
supper was a. joyful ceremony in the
garret room that evening. The grapes pleased
Kate's delicate appetite to a charm, and the
story of the dollar was listened to with inter
"I wish I could see the kind gentleman,"
said the child earnestly; " I would give him
my beautiful rose, if he liked flowers."
She looked strangely beautiful that night,
her head . resting on her brother's shoulder,
while Jamie fed her with the. juicy berries,
one by one, as a bird might feed its young.
" Why, how bright the color in your cheek
is, cried Jamie ; I believe you have been
stealing the red shadows from your favorite
rose. .I‘lother, lam sure Katy will get well."
.The nest morning, while yet the golden
spear of sunrise was in rest among the pur
ple hills, Katy died.
The moss of twenty years bad gathered
upon Katy's bead-stone—the violets of twen
ty years had blossomed over her grave, and
it was a glorious autumn day, whose light
'streamed along the busy thoroughfare, and
shone on the magnificent marble erection de
voted to the extensive operations of the cele
brated Bank of IC
A splendid carriage , cushioned with vel
vet, and glittering brightly in the sunshine,
was drawn up opposite the door, waiting to
take the great banker-to the palatil home.
The spirited horse, foaming and prancing,
could hardly be curbed, and the driver looked
wonderingly towards the door, and- marvel
ed why his usually punctual master did not
Mr. Arnet stood in a little office opening
from the main bank, where the long rows of
clerks were bending over their desks. He
had been looking over a little pocket book
which he always carried about him for some
note or bill; and, as he turned its pages, a
bit of folded paper dropped out.
The banker opened it, and although twen
ty years had deadened the first edge of his
sorrow, the tears rushed to his eyes as they
fell on the contents.
A pencil sketch, rude and unfinished, of a
meek-browed child—a•loek of soft brown
hair, and that perfumed dust of crimson rose
—these were dearer to the banker than his
vaults of yellow gold.
As he looked at them, a tremulous voice
without arrostod his ear.
"I would be glad if you would buy, gen
tlemen, for my need is very great, I have a
sickly - daughter at home, who must be fed."
"Be off about your business," was the
sharp rejoinder. "I won't let you in. Don't
you see you are not wanted here ?"
The voice seemed to strike a responsive
chord in the rich man's heart; surely he had
heard its mild tones before. He partially
openned the door and called out sternly :
"Mr. Waters, show the gentleman in, if
you please."
The abashed clerk obeyed not without sur
prise, and the bowed old man, with his heavy
basket of strawberries, came humbly into
the private room of the great banker.
"Will you take a chair ?" politeiy inquired
Mr. Arnet, moving forward a luxurious fau
The old man took off his hat apologetical
"Sir, I fear that I intrude on your valua
ble time. If you would buy some of my fruit
—necessity you know, is strong, and my pov
erty is extreme. I was not always in such a
Mr. Arnet watched the proud turn of that
gray head with a singular smile ; then sit
ting down to his desk he wrote off a check
and handed it across the table.
" One thousand dollars 1" faltered the old
man, as he read, turning red and white in a
breath.—lle held it toward the banker.
"Sir, I hoped you .were too much of a
gentleman to make sport of age and, distress.
Is there anything to jest about in my want ?"
" Not at all, sir. You spoke - of a sickly
daughter. I have a cottage vacant, just out
side the city, with a fountain, grounds and
observatory. If you and your daughter will
occupy it, rent free, I shall be very glad to
have you take care or it for me."
The old man stood white and breathless,
as if in a dream. In an instant his hand
was taken in the clasp of the great banker.
"My friend, my benefactor, you have for
gotten me, but my youthful memory is stron
ger than yours. Is it possible that you have
no remembrance of me?"
The old man shook his head.
"Yet'tis folly to expect it when I am so
changed Listen, sir." ho resumed, with a
bright, earnest smile ; have you any recollec
'lion of a forlorn boy, on a crowded pier,
whose little all was scattered by a rude blow ?
have you forgotten his distress? Have you
forgotten that a kind stranger stopped to corn
fort him, not only by money, but by cheer
ing words ?"
"Is it possible?" stampered the old man.
"Yes, it is possible; 'I am the forlorn boy.
Your money, which that night supplied my
dying sister with luxuries and pleasures,
proved the stepping stone to my princely
wealth. Sir, I was a ragged friendless boy.
but my heart treasured up your kind words
as priceless jewlels ; and now the time has
come when I may, in some measure, repay
them with interest."
The old man moved his pale lips as though
he would speak; the banker resumed instant
ly :
"I am alone in the world ; my mother is
dead, and my little sister, whose last words
were of your kindness, has gone, years ago,
to her eternal home. I owe everything to
you ; and now I have a favor to ask."
"A favor, and of me !"
" That you will henceforth allow me to pro
vide for you, and consider me as your son.—
My carriage is at the door, and will take
you whersoever you wish to go. But a mo
ment first."
He took a tiny volume from his breast,
bound in faded velvet, with claspings of tar
nished gilt.
This book was my dead sister's Bible ;- it
lay on her pillow when she died, and since
that hour it has been my constant companion.
There is a passage here that has ever been
present to my mind since your kind deed
gave hope and courage to my. life."
He opened the volume, and through a soft
mist of grateful tears, the old man read the
scripture words :
Cast thy bread upon the waters, fur thou
shalt find it after many days.
In the Borough of 11--, in the State of
Missouri, some years since, Pool was prose
cuting attorney, and Jake 'Wentz court-crier.
The former was a fellow of "infinite jest,"
the latter a thick-set, moon-faced Dutchman,
who held his head a-one-side, but had a voice
that rang through the court-house, to be heard
a square' off. Alexander Watson one of the
best hearted men alive, but modest to a fault,
was one day in the midst of a large audience
in the court-room, listlessly looking on. Now
Pool and Watson belonged to the same vol
unteer corps, and were fast friends. A lib
erty may be taken with one's friend ; so, in a
pause of the buzz, while the Judge was ar
ranging some instructions to the Jury, Pool,
in a quiet tone, said to Wentz, (perched, as
usual, in his box.)
" Crier, call Alexander Watson."
" Jake raised himself, his eyes turned to
ward the ceiling, his chin drawn down, to
his left shoulder, and sang out,
"Alexander Watson I Alexander Watson 11
Alexander Watson! ! I
Black. dismay was in the countenance of
the party thus unexpectedly summoned; his
portly form soon made its way through the
crowd; and, blushing •scarlet, he leaned to
ward the attorney to know his wishes. Pool's
seriouse face inclined forward.
" Alick," said he, in a whisper, " I want
you to tell the truth,"
" Well—yes--you 'know I will."
'' Then tell me, Alick, have you now any
tobacco about you ?"
" Why, yes—l have," began the surprised
" Then give me a chew," said the attorney,
at the same time giving Wentz the sign to dis
miss a witness.
"Alexander Watson, you are discharged by
the court !" roared the crier. And, long af
ter, much of the fun in the borough arose out
of Mick Watson's surprise, and Pool's novel
mode of raising tobacco while engaged in a
Remember, 1 Die Game.
Such were the last words of a young mur
derer, named Fife, who was lately executed
at Pittsburg. He stood upon the scaffold—
the rope around his neck—and with but a
few moments between him and eternity. Yet,
instead of being overwhelmed by thoughts
and feelings natural to that awful hour, he
took pride in his iron stolidity of nerve. and
called upon the crowd to mark that "he died
game." Brave fellow ! He had the courage
of a hero ! These exclamations, we doubt
not, have broken from very many who have
perused the narrative of the execution. No,
he was not a brave fellow, and it is strange
that men should mistake the mere brutal in
sensibility of criminals like Fife, for that
virtue which is the central spring of a noble
character. It is not only in the case of per
sons who have shown their capability of
committing the most horrible crimes without
a pang of remorse, but in regard to certain '
kinds of soldiers upon the battle-field, that
we often fall into the grave error, of dignify-
Jag a mere quality of physical nature with
the name of an exalted virtue of the soul.—
A . man may be perfectly calth and impassa
ble while a hundred cannon are thundering
death around him, and yet want genuine I
bravery, while the noble quality may often
be most gloriously manifested in frail and
shrinking frames.
Charles James Napier, endowed by nature
with such extreme sensitiveness of nerve,
that a harsh sound caused him to shudder—
and horrified by the, bloody scenes of war—
yet maintaining a clear, calm intellect in
the heart of battle, and giving explicit direc
tions to surgeons, while suffering the most
acute agonies in his mangled body, was an
example of true courage. Ney, walking on
foot at the head of the Old Guard, up to the
muzzle of two hundred blazing cannon at
Waterloo, was simply an iron machine—in
sensible of fear. Kane, racked with mortal
disease, and with nervous fibre almost de
stroyed—yet defying the rigors of an appal
ling cold, maintaining an ascendency over
men strange in body than himself, and
' with amazing prudence and sagacity con
ducting their retreat from a world of night
and ice to the haunts of civilized beings—
wasy'' brave. McGarr, laboring twenty-two
hours at the oar, yet giving way to despair
under the weight of less suffering than Kane
endured almost without a murmur, was sim
ply what his commander called him—" an
iron man." The stalwart Windham—calm
and collected amid. the horroraof the Redan
—is called a brave man; but we doubt
whether he would have dared the dangers of
the hospitals like the gentle Florence Night
ingale. There were strong men at Norfolk
who would have faced the foe in time of
war, and "died game" in defence of their
city. But they fled from the breath of pes
tilence, and left relations and friends un
tended and unburied, while a delicate maid
en from New York took the place they
should have occupied.
This distinction between true bravery and
mere physical hardness is important, and it
ought to be more strongly insisted upon
than we find it to be in general. It is too
much the custom to talk of the courage of
criminals, as if it were a redeeming virtue,
which they posessed in common with the
great characters of history, and eulogies of
the moral apathy of the mindless soldier are
extremely extravagant. Physical firmness is
an attribute which men receive from nature.
Moral resolution—" the spirit to combat
against every trial, which alone is true bra
very'—is a quality of the immortal part,
which we may all cultivate, even in the hum
ble walk of life and, in this respect, the
weakest may become the most admirable in
their strength. There is a day in the career
of man or woman that does not present some
temtation to be resisted—some difficulty to
be overcome—and each act of resistance, and
each victory over obstacles that appeared in
surmountable, adds new force to the will,
and strengthtens the soul for a still greater
struggle to maintain its assendency in the
hour of tremendous peril or appalling calam
ity. The brutal indifference of the Springs,
the Langfeldts and the Fifes, is mean and
paltry in comparison with that sublime de
termination which presses on to achieve
ments, in spite of the ills of the flesh, and of
dangers of which we have an agonizing sense.
This latter is the virtue that we would teach
our rising generation. We would prefer that
they should learn how " to suffer and be
strong," rather than acquire the faculty of
dying game upon a scaffold—Philadelphia
Evening Tourital.
The Rev. Mr. Martin, of Belliugton, maine,
a man of decided talent and worth was, al
so some what noted for his eccentricity and
humor, which occasionally showed them
selves in his public ministrations. In the
time of the great land-speculations in Maine,
several of his prominent pariehoners and
church-members were carried away with the
mania of buying lumber tracts. Mr. Martin
resisted this speculating spirit, and more
than once rebuked it in his sermons. One
evening, at his regular weekly prayer-meet
ing, he noticed that several of his prominent
men absent, and he knew at once they wont,
to Bangor to attend a great land sale. After
a hymn had been sung, he said,
"Brother Allen, will you lead us in pray
er ?"
Some one spoke up and said, " He is gone
to Bangor."
Mr. Martin, not disconcerted, in the least,
called out,
"Deacon Barber, will you lead us in pray
er 1"
" He has gone to Bangor," another answer
Again the pastor asked.
"Squire Clark, will you prayr
" The 'Squire has gone to Bangor," said
some one • and Mr. Martin being now satis
fied, looked around upon the little assembly
as if the same reply would probably be giv
en to every similar request, and very quitet
ly said,
" The choir will sine Bangor and then we
will dismiss the meeting 1"
Editor and Proprietor.
NO. 39.
A Rebuke
Silver and its Uses.
This metal possesses great interest. Its
frequent mention in the Scriptures—the tal
ents of silver, and the shekels of silver—in
dicates its ancient use and application as
money. It is one of those metals which the
alchemists of old termed "noble" metals,
because they found that it could not be'rnit
ed ; moreover, they could not dissolve it in
any menstruum they possessed. Fire only
made it brighter. Allusion is made to this
fact in the book of Job, to illustrate the tri
umph of a good heart over misfortune. Sil
ver is found in all parts of theeesvorld, and
England yields its share. Bishop Watson,
one of our early chemical writers, says that
the silver which was procured from the
mines in Cardiganshire by Sir Hugh Middle
ton, amounting to £2,000 value per month,
enabled hind to construct that valuable work
which we call the New River, for the pur
pose of supplying a portion of London with
water. The bishop also mentions that a
mint was established at Aberystwith for
coining silver. In the English mines this
metal is found mixed with lead, from which
it is separated by a very simple process in
vented by Mr. Pattison, of Newcastle. The
mixed metal is melted in an iron pot, and is
then allowed to cool. The silver "sets" be
fore the lead, and is then separated by sim
ply straining it through a colander. Silver
can be beaten out into leaves so thin that
one grain of it can be made to cover a sur
face of more than fifty square inches. Wire
also can be drawn from it finer than a hu
man hair. In these respects it has a nearer
resemblance to gold than any other metal.—
With the mechanical qualities of silver most
readers are pretty well acquainted-; but as
very little is known of its chemical qualities,
it may be well to mention them. Silver has,
as it were, a determination to exist in no
other form than in the metallic state in
which we generally see it; and although the
chemist may dissolve it, and overcome its
" nobility," yet it is so prone to assume its
natural state, that even daylight will restore
it to its pristine beauty. It is here that
chemistry shows its great power in adapting
a peculiar property of a material to some
use in the arts and manufactures. So we
see that silver is the main instrument in the
photographic art. Silver is dissolved, some
salt is added, you look at it, and the result
is that your shadow is there indelibly print
ed. The poets may well liken soft-flowing
rivers to " silver threads covering the green
velvet of the earth ;" but such types aro
prosy when we compare them with the paint
ing after life produced by a sunbeam on a
fabric imbued with silver. Again, hew care
fully the good housewife marks her linen !
She well knows how it is thus preserved for
her own use, but perhaps is not aware of
the fact that the indelible ink is nothing
more than the solution of a five-cent piece,
for which she willingly pays ten cents.—
Sometimes a little fungus takes up its abode
on the human skin ; it grows very fast, but
does net cause much pain; nevertheless, it is
so insidious that if not carefully watched it
would destroy life. The doctor comes, he
rubs it over with a little caustic, and health
is restored. If you ask what this caustic is
called, the answer is "nitrate of silver."—
SEPTI3IIiS PlESSE.—Scientffle .American
The Iron gorse as Seen by a Countryman
"When we got to the depot, went around
to look at the iron hoss. Thunderation ! it
warn't no more like a boss than a rneetin ,
house. If I was goin' to describe the ani
mule I'd say it looked like—well, it looked
like—darned if I know what it looked like
unless 'twas a regular be devil, snortin' smoke
all around, and pantin', and heavin,' and
swellin,' and chawin' up red coals like they
was good. A fellow stood in a house like,
feedin' him all the time ; but the more he
got the more he wanted, and the more he
snorted. After a spell the feller catched
him by the tail, and great Jerico ! be set up
a yell that split the ground for more'n a mile
and a half, and the next minis I felt my legs
a waggin' and found myself at t'other end of
the string o'vehickles. I wasn't skeered but
I had three chills and a stroke of the - palsy
in less than five minits, and my face had a
curious brownish yeller green bluish color
in it, which was perfectly unaccountable,
" Well," says comment is super ji'uou.s.,'
and I took a seat in the nearest wagin, or
ear, as they call it—a consarned long, steam
boat—lookin' thing, with a string of pews
down each side, big enough to hold about a
man and a half. Just as I set down ; the boss
hollored twice and started off like a streak,
pitchin' me head first at the stomach of a
big Irish woman, and she gave a tretnendu
ous grunt, and then catched me by the head,
and crammed me under the seat; the cars
was a jumpin' and tearin' along at nigh onto
forty thousand miles an hour, and every
body was bobbin' up and down like a mill
saw, and every wretch on 'em had his mouth
wide open and like they was 'elfin,' but I
couldn't hear nothin', the cars kept such a
racket. Bimeby they stopped all at once,
and such another laff busted out o'them pas
sengers as I never hearn before. Laffin' at
me, too, that's what made me mad, as I was
mad as thunder, too. I ris up, and shakin'
my fist at 'em, says Ladies and gentle
men, look a here ! I'm a peaceable stranger.
—and away went the darned train like small
pox was in the town, jerking me down in the
seat with a whack like I'd been thrown from
the moon, and their cussed mouths flopped
open, and the fellers went to bobbin' up and
down again. I put on an air of magnani
mous contempt like, and took no more notice
of 'em, and very naturally wont to bobbin'
up and down myself."
Aes*A new Mormon dance, which tickles
the fancy of the Gentiles much, has been in
troduced in Utah, and is all the rage. Each
gentleman has two ladies for his partners,
and it is denominated the "Mormon Cotillion
or Heaven upon Earth."
Do you not expend time e - nongh each
year running after your neighbors' tools to
pay for a complete .outfit? Some men do,
and exhaust the patience and respect of a
good neighbor beside.
glt is easier to fly from company than
from sin : "Lot fled from Sodom, but he fell
into sin: "Hold thou me up, and I shall be
Aar" Mr. Smith, don't you think that Mr.
Skeesicks is a young man of parts ?" " De
cidedly so, Miss Brown ; lie is part numb
scull, part knave, and part fool."
Never stop to talk in a church aisle
after service is over.
Dar Never speak of your father as " the
old rnan."
gV:' Gold is the most malloable substance.
Gold is the best conductor of best.
Ste' Alcohol has never been frozen