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Vtretu.
" Sowing His Wild Oats."
" Sowing his wild oats"—aye ! sowing them deep,
In the heart of a mother to blossom in tears,
And shadow with grief the decline of her years,
"Sowing his wild oats," to silver the head
Of the sire who watched his firsepulse throb with joy,
And whose voice went to Heaven in prayer for "the boy."
"Sowing his wild oats," to spring up and choke
The flowers in the garden of a sister, whose love
Is as pure and as bright as the blue sky above.
"Sowing his wild oats." Aye! cheeks shall grow pale,
And sorrow shall wither the heart of the wife,
When manhood thus squanders the prime of his life.
" Sowing his wild oats." Death only shall reap.
With his keen sharpened scythe; the fruits will be found
In the graveyard near by, 'neath a grass-covered mound.
a selert '5,1-tcrp..
The First Kind Word
[From the Independent.]
".Pas your lesson difficult?" kindly in
quired a young teacher of a ragged, uncouth
looking lad of about ten years, was one of a
class which had just finished a recitation,
" was your lesson difficult, my boy ?"
The boy thus addressed, raised his large
gray eyes with inquiring look, as if to satis
fy himself that words, breathed in so sweet a
tone, were intended for him ; but as he met
his teacher's gentle gaze, they fell, and drop
ping his head, he forebore to reply. His
teacher, perceiving that he felt the rebuke,
and deeming it sufficient, said no more and
dismissed the class. This lad, Johnny 'by
name, was the son of poor parents. both of
whom were habituated to the use of ardent
spirits, and, of course, grossly neglected their
children, beating and abusing them, as their
passion prompted; seldom, and perhaps never,
let from their lips a word of kindly interest
even, much less of love.
Johnny being of a mischievous tempera
ment, was the recipient of unbounded harsh
ness ; but to this disposition he owed the
privilege of attendance at the village school,
whither he was sent " to be out of the way."
This was the first day ho had been under
the care of the present teacher, whom I will
call Miss _Amer. Johnny possessed a quick
and retentive mind, and, when he chose to
apply himself, could stand at the head of his
class.
But his half-learned lessons came oftener
than his perfect ones, and always brought
him a severe reprimand, and often a chastise
ment, which seemed to have no other effect
than to harden and debase him. Growing
up under such influences at home and at
school, he became a morose and ill-tempered
boy, disliked and shunned by his schoolmates,
on whom lie sought to revenge himself by all
the petty annoyances his fertile brain could
devise. Such was the lad when he became
the pupil of Miss Abner. She had rebuked
him for his first error gently, as was her wont,
and, trusting to the potency of such reproof,
had dismissed him from her mind; but not
so easily were the kind words forgotten by
the poor boy, to whom so gentle a tone was
so rare as to awaken astonishment: It fell
among the rude thoughts and feelings of his
heart as a flower among thorns. It was to
his ear, that was wont to catch only the harsh
tones of unkindness, as a strain of sweet mel
ody after a jarring discord. Oh I why do we
so often withhold that which costs so little to
give, and yet may prove such a treasure to
the receiver ? But to the story. Miss Al
tiler lingered at the school room till all the
pupils had left, and was walking alone home
ward, when this, to her, trifling event of the
day, was brought to her mind: by observing
Johnny sitting by the roadside, apparently
waiting for her. When she came to him, he
rose and offered her a nosegay of violets, say
ing, " Please ma'am will you take them ?"
" Certainly, Johnny, they are very sweet,
and the finest I have seen this season ; I love
them dearly, and you, too, for bringing them
to me."
She had taken the boy's hand in hers, des
pite its disgusting appearance, and, as she
finished speaking, his eyes were lifted to hers
with the same expression as in the morning,
and a tear was making a furrow through the
dirt that begrimed his face.
" Johnny, what is the matter ?" asked his
teacher, in surprise.
" What you said," falteringly uttered the
boy_ "Do you love me?"
' Indeed I do," was Miss Almer's reply.
" But - something must trouble you. Can I
do anything for you ?"
" Oh, you have done more for me than any
one else, for nobody ever loved me before ;
but I thought you did when you didn't scold
me for not getting my lesson. But I'm a
dreadful boy - you don't know it all."
" Well, tell me all," answered his teacher,
touched by the earnestness of his manner.—
So saying, she led him to a large stone, and
bade him sit by her there, and, as he unfol
ded his tale of wrongs done as well asreceived,
she mingled her tears with his, which flowed
freely. They sat long, and ere they parted,
she had given rest to his eager heart, by prom
ising ever to be his friend:
The next morning Johnny was missed from
his place at school, and at the close of school
Miss Abner called at the rude hut which had
been his home, to learn the cause of his ab
sence, and, to her surprise, found it vacated.
Whither the people had gone no one knew.
Many years after this (fifteen I think,)
Miss Abner was visiting far away from this
scene of her early labors, and during her visit
attended a meeting for teachers. Remarks
were offered and experiences related by many
laborers in the good work of instructing
youth, and, at length a gentleman rose and
expressed a wish to say a word to the band
of teachers, on the power of kindnes, and in
the course of his remarks related the story I
have given above, closing with these or near
ly these words:
" I am that lad ; those wore the first words
of kindness I remember ever to have had ad-
$ 1 50
3 months. 6 months. 12 months.
...S1 50 $3 00 $5 00
5 00
3 00
5 00 S 00 10 00
7 00 10 00 15 00
. 9 00 13 00
12 00 16 00
7 00
WILLIAM LEWIS,
20 00
24 00
VOL. X VI.
dressed to me. They have been my talisman,
my guiding star through life. They have
made me what I am, and, God helping me,
it shall be the aim of my life to reward the
friend of my youth, in the only Way in my
power, namely by precept and example, the
influence of the divine principle of love which
actuated her.
Miss Almer listened to this recital with an
agitated heart, for she recognized in the
speaker the little Johnny whom she had nev
er forgotten. She sought an interview, and
;earned his history. How, after leaving his
early home, the love of virtue, which she had
roused in his bosom, was ever leading him
away from his evil courses, and urging him
to a higher life.
Ned we say to any teacher who may read
this "Go thou and do likewise ?" All may
not meet with so speedy a reward as did Miss
Almer; but let us remember that the time is
not yet, and, if we labor faithfully, we may
hope that the guerdon shall yet be ours, to
find that some poor soul has been rescued
from degradation by our endeavors, to shine
forever, a star in the Savior's Coronet !
A harsh word will kill where a gentle one
will make alive.
A. Word About Children
How deeply rooted are the impressions, the
loves, the fears, the hates of childhood. Aye !
hate, for children are often taught to hate,
with all the method that would charactize
Jesuitical discipline. And not till the hu
manity of riper years softens resentment,
does that lingering feeling of wrongs una
venged, cease to embitter existence.
If we of riper years would but keep in mind•
the influence of early association upon our
selves, we should treat children more justly.
Who does not remember some bug-bear
of a man whose very shadow is detested to
day, and whose face wears that same crusty,
" be off" expression of old, though it breaks
into smiles in our grown up presence. And
she who treated us with courtesy, who thought
us not too little or too simple to talk with her
of weighty affairs ; who condescended to set
the table, even for us, and treated us like lit
tle kings and queens—how she stands a mon
ument of love and beauty in our hearts !
What would we not do for her ?
We should ever recollect that the child in
all his swaying passions, affections, impulses,
is but the embryo of the man, that memory
acts often as the judge of the past. We may
look in vain for favor, when like the dry moss
we would cling for support to the green young
sapling, and partake of its strength and fresh
ness.
The very child that stands before you, its
lids cast down, and. outraged. feeling on its
lip, may have the power yet to heap favors
on your head. But suppose you it will, if
you sour its nature in the germ ?
We seem to forget that children will ever
become men and women. They are either
pets or torments; treated like creatuaes with
out eyes or ears, while all the time they are
gathering in the good or evil as the earth
sucks in moisture.
Children are so keen—so quick, so gener
ally true in their judgments ! They are al
always peeping over the shoulder of reason,
and when you slight or insult them, they
know it.
Worse than death to them is the laugh of
ridicule. Sometimes they have a dignity—a
child-dignity, that encouraged, might build
them a wall of defense against coming dan
gers. They note the sly laugh, the coarse
outburst of merriment frightens them ; they
shrink into childish obscurity, and lose much
of their native independence.
A few rare hearts there are who know how
to appreciate and treat children. Such nev
er, never want the sunshine of bright eyes,
the warm affection of pure hearts. A book
lent, a flower given, a kind word spoken, a
little hand held for a moment in loving pres
sure, a kiss ungrudgingly given—though but
slight drops from the showers of love that fall
upon the dearest of your household, they are
never forgotten.
0 ye whose path is thronged with little
children, you know not how many angels in
disguise wait to expand their beautiful wings
and make earth seem a heaven, through your
tender ministrations.—Mrs. Dennison.
PUNCTUATION PUZZLE.—The following is an
illustration of the importance of punctuation.
There arc two ways of pointing it, one of
which makes the individual in question a
monster of wickedness, while the other con
verts him into a model Christian. Let our
readers exercise their ingenuity on the prob
lem, and see whether they can discover its
two-fold solution :
" He is an old experienced man in vice and
wickedness he is never found opposing the
works of iniquity he takes delight in the
downfall of the neighborhood he never rejoices
in the prosperity of any of his fellow-creatures
he is always ready to assist in destroying the
peace of society he takes no pleasure in serv
ing the Lord he is uncommonly dilligent in
sowing discord among his friends and ac
quaintances he takes no pride in laboring to
promote the cause of christianity he has not
been negligent in endeavoring to stigmatize
all public teachers he makes no exertion to
subdue his evil passions he strives hard to
build up Satan's kingdom he lends no aid to
support the gospel among the heathen he con
tributes largely to the evil adversary he pays
no attention to good advice he gives great
heed to the devil he will never go to Heaven
1:e must go where he will receive the just rec
ompense of reward."
BEAUTIFUL.—There is a touching beauty
in the radiant look of a girl just crossing the
limits of youth, and commencing her journey
through the checkered space of womanhood.
It is all dew-sparkle and morning-glory to
her ardent, buoyant spirit, as she presses
forward exulting in blissful anticipations.—
But the withering heat of the conflict of life
creeps on; the dew-drops exhale; the gar
lands of hope, shattered and dead, strew the
path; and too often, ere noon-tide, the brow
and sweet smile are exchanged for the weary
look of one longing for the evening rest, the
twilight, the night.
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Sensible View of Female Education.
At the annual commencement of the Mt.
St. Vincent Academy, at Foothill near New
York, on Tuesday, Archbishop Hughes took
occasion to introduce, in a brief address to
the young ladies and the Sisters of Charity
having charge of the Institution some sensi
ble suggestions that might well claim consid
eration in all our s schools for the education
of females. After hearing the young ladies
in their literary and other exercises,—the
music, the speaking, the- compositions, and
the clasics,—and after complimenting them
as angels, with more than archiepiscopal gal
lantry, he said that he was going at the next
session to inaugurate a new study. He was
going to introduce into the establishment
what he called "the Science of the Cuisine,"
meaning the whole art and mystery of cook
ing dinners and keeping house. He said :
"But although it is of the utmost impor
tance, young ladies, that you should have a
good education, should be accomplished, cul
tivated graceful and refined, yet there are
other things that cannot be lost sight of.—
Before another year rolls around I propose
to arrange with the Sisters for a new branch
of study in what the French call the science
of cuisine. It is the science of keeping house,
and that we all know commences with the
kitchen. Every young lady, I don't care if
she be a queen's daughter, ought to under
stand it herself, for it may happen some day
that the cook will dismiss her. [Laughter.]
What a predicament she would be in then.
Well, what I was going to say was that
the Sisters should arrange it so that all the
girls over thirteen years of age should be en
abled to spend a portion of the time in the
kitchen, and become acquainted with cooking
and housekeeping. Here will be a new bu
reau of education. [Laughter.] We shall
then have the theory and some practice too.
Another point and I will close. At the end
of another year, if living, and my pure is
long enough, I am going to give a gold medal
of not less than s'so in value, to the young
lady who will write the best essay, not ex
ceeding five pages in length, upon this great
new science I have spoken of." [Laughter
and applause.]
We wish the Archbishop success. What
he proposes to do will be a benefaction. The
young women of this country neglect too
much the kind of knowledge he designs to
supply ; and one reason why domestic service
is such odds and ends with us is, that neith
er mistress nor maid are apt to understand
their business. In some of the older coun
tries this is not the case, and women of all
ranks are taught domestic economy in all
branches. Schools are established expressly
for the purpose. The consequence is that the
servants, are the better servants and the
mistresses better mistresses.
Mournful Close of the Career of the Four
World Heroes.
It is a remarkable fact that the career of
four of the most renowned characters that
ever lived, closed with some mournful and
violent death :
Alexander, after having climbed to the
dizzy heights of ambition, and, with his
temples bound with chaplets dipped in the
blood of countless nations, looked down upon
a conquered world, and wept that there
was not another city for him to conquer, set
a city on fire, and died in a scene of de
bauch.
Hannibal, after having to astonish
ment and consternation of 'Rome, passed the
Alps, after having put to flight the armies of
the mistress of the world, and stripped three
bushels of gold rings ftom the fingers of her
slaughtered knights, and made her founda
tion quake—fled from his country, being
chased by one of those who exultingly united
his name to that of God, and called him Han
nibal, died at last by poison administered by
his own hand—unlamented, unwept in a for
eign land.
Caesar, after having conquered eight hun
dred cities, and dyed his clothes in the blood
of one million of his foes; after having pur
sued to death the only rival he had on earth,
was miserably assassinated by those he con
sidered his nearest friends, and in that very
place, the attainment of which had been his
greatest ambition.
Bonaparte, whose mandate kings and em
perors obeyed, after having filled the earth
with the terror of his name, deluged it with
blood, and clothed the world with sackcloth,
closed his days in lonely banishment—al
most literally exiled from the world, yet
where he could sometimes see his country's
banner waving over the deep, but which
could not or would not bring him aid.
Thus four great men, who, from the pecu
liar situation- of their portraits, seemed to
stand the representatives of all whom the
world calls great—those four, who each in
turn made the earth tremble to its centre by
their simple tread, severally died—one by
intoxication, or some suppose by poison min
gled in wine ; one a suicide ; one murdered
by his friends, and one in lonely exile.
THE MAN "WITHOUT AN ENEMY."—Heav
en help the man who imagines he can dodge
"enemies" by trying to please everybody !
If such an individual erer succeeded we should
be glad to know it. Not that we believe in
a man's going through the world trying to
find beams to knock his head against ; dispu
ting every man's opinions ; fighting and el
bowing and crowding all who differ with him.
That again is another extreme. Other peo
ple have a right to their opinions—so have
you, don't fall into the error of supposing
they will respect you less for maintaining it
—or respect you more for turning your coat
every day to match the color of theirs. Wear
your own colors, spite of wind and weather,
storms and sunshine. It costs the vacillating
and irresolute ten times the trouble to wind,
and shuffle, and twist, that it does honest,
manly independence to stand its ground.—
Take what time you please to make up your
wind ; but having made it up, stick to it !
AW- Many writers profess to teach peoplo
" how to live." Culprits on the scaffold would
like to learn.
lam' Don't locate yourself on the back of a
wild horse, unless you want to be dislocated.
-PERSEVERE.-
HUNTINGDON, PA., OCTOBER 2, 1860.
The Alchemy of Vice.
You have heard the story of the Italian
artist, who meeting with a child of exquisite
beauty, wished to preserve its features for
fear he should never see such loveliness.
again. So he painted the charming face upon
canvass, and hung it upon the walls of his
studio. In his somberest hours that sweet,
gentle countenance was like an angel of light
to him. Its presence filled his soul with the
purest aspirations. If ever I find, he said, a
perfect contrast to this beauteous face, I will
paint that also, and hang them side by side,
an ideal of heaven and hell. Years passed.
At length in a distant land, he saw in a pris
on he visited the most hideons object he ever
gazed upon—a fierce, haggard fiend, with
glaring eyes and cheeks deeply furrowed
with lust and crime. The artist remember
ed his vow, and immediately painted a pic
ture of this loathsome form, to hang beside
the portrait of the lovely boy. The contrast
was perfoct. His dream was realized. The
two of the moral universe were before him.
What was the surprise of this artist, on in
quiry into the history of this horrid wretch,to
find he was once that lovely little boy. Both
of these pictures, the angel and the demon of
the same soul, now bang side by side in a
Tuscan gallery. Kind reader, you need not
travel to a foreign gallery to see the trans
forming power of vice upon the body. The
brazen-faced, wanton looking wretch of wo
w anhood, was once a sweet, modest little
girl, that binshed at the slightest indelicate
allusion. - That obese, bloated, brandy-burnt
visage was once a joyous-hearted boy. What
strange alchemy has wrought this bestial
transformation ? They have been in the hard
battle of appetite, and carry the scars of
ninny compaigns. In the basement cells of
inebriety and saloons of licentiousness many
youthful forms are sitting for their portraits.
The demon artist of lust and intemperance is
gradually moulding them into fiends.
You may, our young reader, steal secretly
into these hells of inebriety and harlotry.—
Your kind parents and friends may little sus
pect your wayward proclivities. But be as
sured your "sin will find you out." Vice
cannot long remain concealed. The soul has
no place to hide it. Soon the foul flame,
through some rent or fissure of the body, will
find expression. The inmost loves, desires,
and affinities of the soul, will mould the plas
tic boy into a corresponding likeness. The
body is a flesh-and-blood statue of the spirit,
and the countenance the play ground of flesh
and feeling. An old poet has said :
"For of the soul, the body form do take,
For soul is form, and doth the body make."
Popular Errors Corrected.
"It was impossible to suspect the veracity
of this story ;" it should be, truth of this
story, veracity is applicable to persons only.
" I had rather walk ;" it should be, I
would rather walk ; had denotes past posses
sion, not will nor desire.
" I doubt not but I shall be able ;" it should
be, I doubt not I shall be able.
"He was too young to have felt his loss;"
it should be, to feel his loss.
"I seldom or ever saw him now ;" it should
be, I seldom or never, or seldom if ever see
him now;
Do not say •`rather childish," "rather salt
ish," as the termination ish and the word
rather have the same meaning; such expres
sions, though very common, tautological.
" I expected to have found }aim ;" it should
be, I expected to find him.
" I intended to have visited him ;" it should
be, I intended to visit him.
" I hoped you would have come ;" it should
be, I hoped you would come.
" I rode in a one-horse shay ;" it ought to
be one-horse chaise ; there is no such word as
shay.
" lie can write better than me ;" say, than
" When two things are compared, we must
say, "the elder of the two," not the eldest ;
my brother is taller than I, not the tallest.
Though "who" is applied to persons, and
"which" to inanimate things, yet to distin
guish one of two or more persons, which
must be used: Which is the happy man ?
not who; which of these ladies ?
" The observation of the Sabbath is a
duty ;" it should be, the observance of the
Sabbath ; observation means remarking or
noticing; observance, keeping or obeying.
"A child of four years old ;" it should be
a child four year old, or aged four years.
"The negligence of this leaves us exposed;"
it ought to be, the neglect of this, &c.; negli
gence implies habit; neglect expresses an
act.
"No man had ever less friends ;" it should
be fewer ; less refers to quantity.
"Be that as it will ;" it should be, that as
it may.
The above discourse;" it should be, the
preceding discourse.
" The then ministry;" it should be, the
ministry of that time.
" All over the country ;" it should be, over
all the country.
" Provisions were plenty ;" say plentiful.
" I propose to visit them ;" it should be, I
purpose to visit them.
" I leave town in the latterend of July ;"
omit the word latter.
Do not use avocation for vocation ; the lat
ter signifies occupation, employment, busi
ness ; the former, whatever withdraws or di
verts us from that business.
THE KIND OF NATURES THAT ARE UNCHAR
ITABLE. —Rev. E. W. Chapin says, with a
partial degree of truth : The larger the na
ture the larger the 'love. Little, mean na
tures are uncharitable natures. Find a man
that is doubtful as to the virtue of his fellow
men, and you may be quite sure that he is a
mean man himself. The man that always
has a hopeless, sarcastic sneer for his fellow
men, who is in perpetual fear that he shall
be cheated by them—look out for that man.
But the man that hopes or trusts, though
none sees the evil more clearly than he ; the
man that sees something brighter than the
sin ; who sees the light shining around all,
hope around all—that man has a noble na
ture.
The Pittsburg Post gives a short but inter
esting history of the Zonaves, which to most
of our readers will at this time prove quite
acceptable. The Zouave light infantry was
established in Algeria, by the French, by an
ordinance of the 21st of March, 1831, upon
the suggestion of Marshal Clausel, in order
to replace the Turkish troops in the service
of the Algerine Regency, that had been ex
pelled after the French conquest.
There were at first two battallions. They
were called Zonaves, in Arabic Zouaoua,
from a confederation of the most warlike tribes
of Kabylia, which infested the most inacces
sible ravines of Djurjura. These battallions
were composed mostly of native Arabs, but
Europeans were also received, and particu
larly the young Red Republicans and enthu
siastic Gamins of Paris. There were twelve
French soldiers admitted into each company.
Their uniform consisted of an Arab coat, or
waistcoat with sleeves of deep blue cloth, clos
ed in front with a facing of yellow galloon or
joinquil lace ; red pantaloons of Moorish cut ;
a woolen sash of sky-blue • a red fez cap,
with a yellow tassel, encircled by a green tur
ban ; leather leggings with white gaiter tops,
and Turkish shoes, cartridge-box and knap
sack. The officers had the uniform of the
French Hussars. Their arm was a carbine,
mounting a sabre-poignard for a bayonet.
In 1833 the number of companies was
raised to ten, of which eight were French and
two were Arab, with French Officers. It was
found impracticable to mix the races, as each
learned all the vices of the other, and the
Arabs were disposed to be treacherous.
The Zouave regiment, in 1841, consisted of
three battallions, of which but one company
in each battallion was allowed to receive
Arab recruits, and those few in number. A
decree of 1853 created three regiments of
Zouaves, of three battallions each. Another
decree of 1855 created a fourth regiment for
the Imperial Guard, the distinctive mark of
their uniform being a white turban instead of
the regular green.
The manceuver in which the Zouaves are
peculiarly effective is that of the Voltiguers,
leaping up behind the cavalry, who dash in
to the midst of a desperate position in the en
gagement, the Zouaves slide off as the caval
ry wheel, and they are left to their bloody
work.
These dare-devil regiments were the flower
of the French army in the Crimea and in Ita
ly. They were the heroes of Inkerman, Pal-
Castro, Magenta, and Melegano. After the
last mentioned victory, in which the Zouaves
had borne severe losses, they contrived to
find deals to make coffins for their officers,
and in the old Castello, which was occupied
by the regiment, the corpses were laid out
covered with flowers and laurel wreaths.—
This was said to have made even the Zouaves
thoughtful.
Do something—be something ; no matter
what it is—wood-sawyer or boot-black, knife
grinder's apprentice, or deputy's clerk to a
deputy's deputy—any thing rather than
moulder in idleness, without aim or object,
of hope of furthering, even by a hair's breadth,
the general welfare. Be a producer if you
can ; if you have brains for. it, a producer of
mental wealth—a wise legislator, a profound
and enlightened statesman, a lofty and pure
moralist, a discoverer in science or a shining
light in literature. If for this you are unfit
ted, by nature or accident, be a producer of
less noble riches ; dig the ground and raise
cabbages ; make hats, or coats, or watches,
or steamboats, or build houses and churches ;
burn bricks, quarry for limestone, wade for
clams, or grapple for oysters ; be a producer,
a maker in some sort—add something to the
general store of human possessions and ap
pliances for living. Or, if you cannot do this,
be at least a dealer in the like ; buy and sell,
making your own reasonable profit from the
operation ; put out money at usance, and so
furnish the elementary power which shall
keep others in employment ; speculate in
stocks or real estate ; buy up mortgages —be
any thing, rather than a clod, a mere useless
appendage, or more truly worthless excres
cence upon the frame-work of society. There
is hope of the rogue„the usurer, the extortion
er ; he may repent and reform ; but of the
helpless, soulless, do-nothing drone there is
no hope. The rogue, the usurer,
the extor
tioner, does, at least, contribute his part to
the general movement. He stirs the waters,
though it may be only to darken them by
bringing up the mud from the bottom ; but
the idler leaves everything to stagnate. Again
we say, do something. If you want to be hap
py, do good—do a man's duty in one form or
another ; and believe, withal, that there is a
world of happiness at your command, if you
will but look for it in the right place, and in
the right way.
TERRIBLE TORNADO—The Air Full of Fire
Balls.—The town of Freusburg, in Chautau
qua county, N. Y., was visited by a veritable
tornado on the 7th inst. The Buffalo Express
says a singular noise preceded the hurricane ;
those out. of doors compared its advance to the
fierce driving of many lumber wagons. The
lights in many houses wore extinguished,
without any visible cause. Several houses
were unroofed, others were moved from their
foundations and others were still thrown
down and demolished. Trees were torn up
by the roots and blown about like feathers.
The roof of the Methodist Church was carried
away. The corn crop was ruined, the gar
dens were laid waste; and innumerable fen
ces were blown down. Fortunately no one
was injured in the least. The tornado was
not over thirty rods in width and its duration
did not exceed half a minute. It is impossi
ble to estimate the damage. After the tor
nado, a family noticed the rain leaking down
rather freely, took a light and went up stairs
and discovered the roof was gone. So sud
den was the blow, and so noiselessly, that
they did not know that anything had happen
ed. A Swede woman who was caught out in
the storm lay down on the ground and held
fast to a board fence while all sorts of missiles
were flying around her. She says the air
was full of fire balls. She was uninjured.—
The statement in regard to the balls of fire is
endorsed by various other persons.
Editor and Proprietor
Origin of the Zouaves
Do Something
Increase of Population in the United
It is evident, from the partial returns al
ready made by those who have been engaged
in taking the census of 1860, that the extra
ordinary ratio of increase of population which
has prevailed in former years has been fully
maintained throughout the country during
the last decade. This is an annual addition
to the population of three per cent., and it as
a singular fact that since 1790 this ratio has
been adhered to with wonderful certainty and
fidelity. Beginning with a population of 3,
929,827 in 1790, and adding 3 per cent, an
nually, the estimated result under that rule
and the official census returns did not in any
year show a variation of 200,000, and in 1850
the discrepancy was only 53,872, the estima
ted population being 23,138,004, and the act
ual population 23,191,876. The estimated
population of 1860, according to this rule, is
30,986,851, and there is little reason to doubt
the close approximation of that estimate to
the actual population of the country.
In the beginning of the present century po
litical economist were much impressed with
the rapid advance in population which had
previously been made in our country, because
it had doubled its population every twenty
five years ; a rate of progression not quite
equal to the annual increase of three per cent.,
to which we have referred above.
NO. 15.
This increase, which far exceeds in rapidi
ty that of any other country, is not owing
solely to the large foreign emigration to Amer
ica. This is but:one cause. It is a fixed law
of population that it expands with much
more rapidity in nations where land is cheap,
the soil productive, remunerative labor abun
dant, and where the means of a comfortable
livelihood are freely afforded to all who earn
estly seek for them, than in countries where
want and distress frequently prevail, and
where it is the unfortunate fate of the masses
to lead lives of hopeless indigence and misery.
No people are more prolific than the inhab
itants of the comparatively new agricultural
districts of the United States, where early
marriages are contracted, where a wife al
most invariably proves a helpmate rather
than a pecuniary burden, where farms are
cheap, and honest industry certain to reap e„
rich reward for its labors.
While our population has increased so won
derfully since 1790, the territorial expansion
since that period has almost kept pace with
it. The density of population per square
mile, in 1790, was 4.79, and in 1850, although
the population meanwhile was increased in
the proportion of six to one, the density was
7.90. The most thickly populated State in
the Union in 1850 was Massachusetts, which
contained 127.50 to each square mile. It
would require a population of about 368,000,
000 in the present States and Territories to
establish in them a density equal to that of
the Old Bay State. There is, therefore, am
ple room for centuries of a rapid growth of
population before our whole country becomes
as thickly settled as one of the existing States,
and the present ratio of increase will proba
bly not diminish as long as any new and
sparcely settled States and Territories contin
ue to attract emigraition, and to open up new
avenues to profitable industry.
The population of 1,900 is estimated at 98,
595,512, and if we are engaged in no desola
ting wars or violent intestine commotions be
fore that period, this estimate will probably
prove as correct as those which have preced
ed it, because the great basis of national
abundance and wealth is broad enough to
comfortably sustain a much larger popula
tion.— The Press.
It may be interesting for the tariff men of
Pennsylvania to know that the head of the
New York Republican electoral ticket is
William C. Bryant, the editor of the Evening
Post, and after forty years an unchanging
Free Trade man. Mr. Bryant denies that
the twelfth resolution of the Chicago Platform
contains a single word in favor of the produc
tion of home labor or home productions. To
this effect his journal remarks as follows:
" The twelfth of these resolutions is called
in some of the journals an approval of a high
er tariff of duties. The Tribune seems to have
fallen in the same mistake when it calls it a
resolution in favor of a protective tariff. We
have read the resolution several times over,
and cannot find a single word in favor of rais
ing the duties on imported goods, nor the slight
est mention of the doctrine of protection. Fa
voritism to the manufacturers is no part of
the policy it recommends to the adoption of
the Government,
"This is the interpretation we put upon
the resolution adopted
_at Chicago, and it is
as fair a construction as any other. If any
other construction be a fairer or truer ono,
then we do not belong to the party by which the
resolution is adopted. If it was intended to
pass a resolution which should mean nothing
distinct or positive, but should bear two con
structions, then the Convention has done what
was unworthy of the party whom it professes
to represent, and we are ashamed of it. It
would have become it better to be silent on
that topic altogether.
"The construction we have placed upon this
resolution we shall hold to firmly: If the
Republican party should elect its candidate he
must act on that construction, or he will soon
find himself encountered by an opposition by
which he will be overwhelmed."
While Mr. Curtin is holding up this same
twelfth resolution as pledging the Republican
party to a protective tariff, the head man on
the New York electoral ticket flatly contra
dicts all his assumptions. Who is cheating
and who is to be cheated ? Both can't be
right. Let Mr. Curtin take courage and give
us a little variety by expressing his opinions
on the fourteenth resolution s or " Dutch
Plank."
Lincoln's Opinion of Thomas Jefferson.
The Maccomb (Illinois) Eagle bus raked
up from its old files a speech made by Abra
ham Lincoln in 1844, in which he said :
"Mr. Jefferson is a statesman wlo praises
are never out of the mouth of the Democratic
party. Let us attend to this uncompromising
friend of freedom, whose name is continually
invoked against the Whig party. The char
acter of Jefferson was repulsive. Continual
ly puling about liberty, equality and the de
grading cause of slavery, he brought his own
children to the hammer, and made money of
his debaucheries. Even at his death he did
not manumit his numerous offspring, but left
them, soul and body, to degradation and the
cart-whip. A daughter of this vaunted cham
pion of Democracy . was sold some years ago,
at public auction, in New Orleans, and pur
chased by a society of gentlemen, who wished
to testify by her liberation their admiration
of the statesman who
“ • Dreampt of freedom in a slave's embrace.'
"This single line I have quoted gives more
insight into the character of the man than
volumes of panegyric. It will outlive his op.
taph, write it who may."
A man - who will thus speak of the author
of the Declaration of Independence is utterly
destitute of the feeling of a patriot, and ought
to have the brand of shame affixed upon ititik
forehead by the American people,
States.
The Tariff Cheat.