AMERICAN VOLUNTEER.
f fcuBUSUED EVERY THURSDAY MORNIHG BY
JoUn B. Bratton.
• TEBM.Sv '
<tonsaniPHON. —Ono Dollar fltiu Fifty Cents,
liaid in ndvnnco ; Two Dollars If paid within tbo
P “Sd Two Dollars nod Titty Cents If not
Lid wIIMA thh , year. Those lorma will bo rig
idly adhered to In. every instance. No buli
horlplion discontinued until all arrearages are
balci unless at the option of the Editor.
Advertisements— Accompanied by the cash,
itid not exceeding ono square, Will bo insorted
throo times for Ono Dollar,and twenty-flvocents
ior each additional Insertion. Those of a groat
tor length in proportion,
Job-Printing— Such as Hand-bills, Postlng
hllls, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c.,&c.,oxo
baled with accuracy and at the shortest notice.
|stirtunl.
<• NEVER COURT BUT ONE.”
I have finished it, the letter,
That will tell him he is free;
From this hour add forever, 1
He is nothing more to me!
And raj’ heart feels lighter, gayer,
Since the deed at last is done—
t will teach him that'when courting
He should never court but one.
fevery body in (ho village
KriowS he’s been a wooing me,
And this morning ho was riding
With that saucy Anna Lee.
They say he smiled upon her,
As he cantered by her side.
And I’ll warrant you he promised
To make hjr soon his bride.
Butl'vc finished it, the letter,
From this moment ho is free—
lie may have her if he wants her,
If ho loves her more than me.
He may go—it will not kill inc.—
I "would say the same, so there
if I knew it would, for flirting,
1c is more than l ean bear.
’ll is twilight and the evening.
That he said he’d visit me—
but no doubt he’s now with Anna,
lie may stay there, too, for me!
And as true as I’m a living,
If he ever comes here more,
I’ll act os if wc never.
Never, never met before.
It is time he should becoming,
, And I wonder if he will;
If.be docs I'll look as coldly—
What’s that shadow on the hill ?
I declare, out in the twilight,
There is some one coming near—
<Can it be ? yes. ’tin a figure,
just os true as T am here.
"Now I almost wish I'd written
Not to him that he was free,
For perlvaps ’iwas but a story
That ho rode with Anna Leo.
There he’s coming thro' the gate way,
I’ll meet him at the door,
■And I’ll tell him st'll Move him,
If he'll court Miss Lee no more I
JEiwllaiitoiiß,
4 LEGEND OF NEW ENGLISH),
fir JOHN a. WHITTIER.
t* Shrieks—findish yells—they stab them in
Iholr sloop.”
1 One hundred years ago, tho hunter who rang
ed the hlHs and forests of Now England, fought
against other enemies than the brown bear and
the panther. The husbandman, as he tolled in
the plain, or the narrow clearing, kept closely
-ftthUsldoa hwdod weapon, and wrought dili
gently and firmly In the midst of peril.' The
frequent crack of the Indian’s rifle was hoard in
the still depths of tho forest —the death knell of
the unwary hunter j and, over and anon, tho
flame of soma departed farm houso, whoso
dwellers had been slaughtered by some merci
less foe, rose redly upon tho darkness of tho
night time. The wild and fiery eyes of tho hea
then gleamed through tho thick underwood of
tho forest, upon tho passing.of tho worshippers
of the only truo God ; ond the war whoop rang
shrill and loud under the very walls of the sanc
tuary of prayer.
Perhaps no part of New England affords a
wider field for tho researches of logondry, than
that portion of Massachusetts Bay, formerly
known as tho province of Maine. There, the
ferocious Norrldgowock hold his stern councils,
and there, the tribes of the Penobscot wont forth
with song (\nd dance to do hnttlo upon tho white
loan. There, tho romantic and chivalrous Oas
tlno Immured himself In the forest solitudes, and
there, tho high hearted Halle—tho mild, gifted
Jesuit—gathered together the broken strength
of the Norridgcwock, ond built up In tbo groat
wilderness a temple to tho true God. There,
too, ho perished In tho dark onslaught of the
Colonists -perished with many wounds at the
very foot of tho Cross which his own hands had
planted. And there, tho Norrldgewocks toll
one after another in stern and uncompromising
pride—neither asking nor giving quarters, ns
they resisted tho white spoiler upon tho thres
hold of thctrconsocratcd place of worship, and
in view of their wives and children.
Tho following Is ono, among nmny legends, o(
Vlio strange encounters or tho white man and tho
Indian, which are yet preserved In tho ancient
records and traditions of Maine. Tho simple and
unvarnished narrative is only given >
“ It was a sultry evening towards tho last of
dune, 1722, that Capt. Ilormon and tho Eastern
Rangers urged their canoes up tho Kennebec
river in pursuit of their onorales. Four hours
they tolled diligently at the oar. Tho last traces
of civilisation was left behind, and tho long
shadows of the skirting forest met and blended
bn the middle of the broad dtream, which wound
darkly through them. At every sdund from
tho adjacent shores—tho rustling wing of some
oight bfrd, or tho footsteps of some wild boast
—tho dash of the oar was suspended, and the
ranger's grasp tightened upon his rifle. All
know tho peril of the enterprise j and that si*
«nco which Is natural of jeopardy, settled like
• cloud upon tho midnight adventurers.
“ « men I 1 said tho watchful
Bertnon, In n voice which scarcely rose above
® hoarse whisper, ns the canoo swept around a
rugged promontory, «there (s a light ahead J*
Ail eyes wore bent towards tho shore. A tall
Indian’s lira gleamed up amidst tho groat oaks,
Casting a red and strong light upon tho dark
Waters. For a single and breathless moment
the operation of (ho oar was suspended, and
kvory onr-listened with pninipl earnestness to
batch (he well-known sounds, which seldom
I died to Indicate tho propinquity of tho savages.
But all was now silent. With slow and faint
taovoment of the oar, the canoes gradually ap
proached the suspected spot. Tho landing wos
effected In silonco. Aflor moving cautiously
for a considerable distance in tho dark shadow,
ihu party at length ventured within (ho broad
circle of tho light, which at first attracted their
attention. Horinon was at their head, with an
eye and a hand quick as those of tho savage
enemy whom ho sought,
Tho body of a fallen troo lay across tho path.
As the rangers wore on (ho point of leaping
over it, tho coarse whimper of Uormon again
broke tho nllonoo i
'•God of HeavenJ” ho exclaimed, pointing
to tho tree. «< Soo hero I—*tls tho work of tbo
rod ofcfiisM >
A smothered enrao growled upontho lips of
tlio rangers, ns they hunt grimly forward In tho
direction pointed out by their commander,—
Blond was sprinkled on tank grass nnd tho
hand of aomo white man lay on tho bloody log.
There was not a word spoken, but every conn*
tonanco worked with torrlblo emotion. Hud
the rangers followed tholr own dospornto Incli
nation, they would have hurried onward to tho
'forkof vongoancoj but the example of tho
icaaqr, who hipl regained his usual calmness and
oir-commond prepared them for a less speedy,
ui more certain triumph. Cautiously passing
er tearful obstacles In tho pathway, and
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
VOL, 43.
closely followed by his companions, ho advanc
ed stealthily and cautiously upon the light,
hiding himself and his party ns ranch as possible
behind the thick trees. In a few moments they
obtained a full view of the objects ol their
search.
Stretched at their length around a huge tiro,
but at a convenient distance from It, lay the
painted and half naked forms of twenty savages I
It was evident from their appearance, that they
had passed the day In ono of their horrid revels,
and that they were now suffering under the ef
fects of Intoxication. Occasionally a grim war
rior among them started half-upright, grasping
the tomahawk as if to combat some vision of his
distorted brain, but, unable to sbnko off tho
stupor from bis senses, uniformly (ell back into
his former position.
Tho rangers crept nearer. As they bent their
keen eyes along their well tried rifles, each felt
perfectly sure of his aim. They waited for the
signal of Harmon, who was endeavoring to
bring his long mnaket to bear upon tho bead of
the most distant of the savages.
“ Firel” ho at length exclaimed, as the sight
of his piece Interposed lull anddistinct between
hfs eye and the wild scalp lock of tho Indian.
“ Fire I and rush on.”
The sharp voice of thirty rifles thrilled through
tho heart of (he forest. There was a groan—a
smothered cry—a wild and convulsive move
ment among tho sleeping Indians, and all again
was silent.
The rangers sprung forward with thoir clubbed
muskets and hunting knives; but their work
was done. Tho Bed Men had gone to their last
audit before tho Great Spirit, and no sound was
board among them save tho gurgling of the hot
blood from tticir lifeless bosoms.
Thoy were left unburied in tbo place of their
revoMJngs—a prey to tho foul birds of tho air,
and tho ravenous beasts oi the wilderness.—
Thoir scalps were borne homeward In triumph
by tho successful rangers, whoso children and
grand children have shuddered long alter, at tho
thrilling narrative of tho midnight adventure.
False Education,
Tho early breaking down into invalidism ot
our American women is the subject of frequent
remark. Our young maidens arc, as a class,
beautiful but delicate, and hardly do hosts of
them got out of thoir teens before (boy become
mure or less tho victims ot disease. Several of
ouf contemporaries, wo perceive, are calling at
tention to ono cause of this evil, viz: tho over
working of girls at school. Where tho bluino
of this Is to bo laid wo are not prepared to say.
Wo doubt, however, whether it id all to be put
at the doors of teachers, for wo have heard
many of them lament it, especially those having
charge of public schools. Tho docility, lave of
approbation and emulation, quite characteristic
of tho sex, taken in connexion with the early
ago at which thuy are seated at tho desk, and
tho early ago at which they are called from thoir
studios, may account for much of the error.—
Not only tho acquisition of the common blanches
ot education, but likewise the acquisition o< ac
complishment, is crowded Into a low years; and
Hits, too, with a pruniaturo entrance, oftentimes,
Into tbo excitement ot society. Natural conse
quences oi this are headaches, crooked spines,
dlhordcred nerves, weak eyes, debility, chronic
complaints, that occasion more mischief, moral
as well ns physical, than many may imagine.—
Whul must follow where tho wife and mother is
the victim ot ill health, can easily ho fancied. —
And how many Instances U»cro.jtfO. Of -this Jll
health traceable to the grievous mistakes of pa
rental vanity or thoughtlessness, In subjecting
mere children to (he Inevitable deleterious ef
fects of overtasking the brain, keeping to seden
tary pursuits, involving confinement, unnatural
positions, unrelieved by vigorous, open air ex
ercise 7 This is not a subject on which it is our
province, were wo competent to speak in detail.
But it is a subject which demands very serious ,
consideration. It concerns tho prosperity and (
happiness of thousands. It concerns the com-1
fort and joy of numberless horr.es. It concerns i
the cause of humanity, Inasmuch as the abuses
alluded to threaten to bring on, in some re
spects, an alarming degeneracy in posterity—
and that posterity only n generation or two be
hind ns. The hosts of physicians, tho statistics
of tho death of Infants dally occurring, tacts
within the observation of otcry one, are all in- I
dlcnttvo of a groat wrong, which threatens to
produce bitter fruits, to disappoint many of the
hopes of a progressive and prosperous civiliza
tion.—Boston Courier.
Home Yearnings.
Tho following extract from "Passages of
Eastern Travel,” will meet with a ready re
sponse from every heart that has hod its dearest
feelings nurtured amid tho gonial influence of
homo :
“ There Is a fireside in a far off land by which
could I but warm ray cold and weary feet to
night, I would lie down and sloop such a sleep
as God glveth his beloved. Sometimes I think
I have not slept for months; and I have not,
save only that dreamy, restless sleep, that is
tilled with visions of dear faces loofcing on vie
through fm/nusaAfsoariorouf of unapproachable
distances. And at night, ns I walked along, (ho
moonlight, falling all around me out of that
fathomless sky, I felt as If to 110 down on the
sand would be blessed, and to sloop (here glori
ous, if I could but dream once more of homo.”
Will not this voice from tho Orient flml an
echo in each heart that over roamed from the
loved ones at homo I A response from every
ono who has sojourned as a stranger in some
strange land ? Tos, it will. Tho sentiment is
one kindred to (bo loveliest feelings of tho hu
man heart.
* What a beautiful thought is tho ono wo have
given in italics. It suggests so many pleasant
memories, so many cherished associations (hut
steal over (ho heart like sweet music, soottiing
is balm ami sweat as tho odor of roses.
Tho traveler stood before a Temple throe
thousand years old. Tho ruins wore eloquent
with (ho name and fafno of ttio great Sososlrls;
and yet, standing (here In tho moonlight, upon
tho glittering sands of Egypt, and by the side
of the swift flowing, wonderful Nile, oven there,
with anxious heart, tho IJowadjii turned his
thoughts toward a Jar oft' land, and a homo
around which clustered associations so dear,
.' v , 1 ; 1 . 0 ' 1 w«> « «lvrino eo wictod. Wlrat
' ‘“A, 1 f ° COS 0f 11,0 COloMol .l.tllCl
looking upon tho moonlit aconcry around, and
upon hlm~-tho sight seekers of another contl
nontf Other flicos “ through Impassable liars”
looked In upon him “out of unapproachable
distances,” and those with their old time asso
clntions, were forgotten. This «• thought of a
kingly Intellect” gave way to a thought more
humble but also more potont for good. ,
But not alone from Egyptian ruins come those
yearnings for homo. Bayard Taylor tolls us of
thorn as ho traveled tho places of Central Afll
eai and oven ho, who has ho on but. a day’s
journey flora “that spot of sweetest sanctities,
tho spot called Acme,” ns Dr. Chapin terms It,
has experienced (ho same sensations, although
perhaps less intense.
3v**Agood understanding with a bad will
makes a very unhappy conjunction. That is
an unlucky wit which is employed to do ovil—
Knowledge will become folly, if good scenes do
not take care of It.
[C7“ Thoro Is this difference between those
two temporal blessings, health nnd money ;
money Is tho most envied, but tbo least enjoy
ed : health Is tho most enjoyed, but tbolcast en
vied.
(fy* Ono moment! what nn effect it produces
upon years! Ono moment! virtue, crime, glo
ry, woo. rapture, rest upon it! Death ItselTis
but a moment, yet eternity is its successor.
“OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS DB'JtIOHt —BUT EIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.”
,'f- . . 1 '
lir Castles.
Of all acts of folly, that expressed by tho
phrase, “ building castles in the air,” is most
consummate. There ore thousands who employ
theh thoughts In this species of architecture—
They are not contented with their night dreams,
but they encourage day dreams also—and thus
. they dream, druum, droom, to their sorrow !
They build ensiles in Imagination, which fUH*ns
soon as erected. Like the house of tho silly
man mentioned in tho Scriptural allegory, they
build on an unstAblo foundolion. But they are
oven more silly. Ho built his house on tho
“ sand.” Thn wind and flood were required to
demolish it. They build on “ air,” and the first
breath of experience brings their castles tumb
ling and crashing about their ears. A little
forecast, as tho dictate of common sense, would
have prevented (he sorrowful catastrophe. As
it is, they must pay (he penally, and suffer.
To tho young there is no mental habit more
unfortunate (ban this of building air castles—
unless, indeed, it be a degree of intellectual la
ziness which would prevent their thinking at
nil. Such airy speculations would, perhaps,'
bo better than none. But, in a state of society
like the present, (hero is really no excuse for
tho building of air castles under any supposable
circumstances. Tho ago is full of enterprise,
and of material for useful thought. It may do
lor tho spider, of whose gossamer castles tho
old dilly sings—
“ And, when she secs
’TIs broke by the hreezo,
She weaves the bright tissue again.”
But it is unworthy of men and women, who
should bo leading lives with more rational mo
tives and better results I
For the habit of alr-castlo-buildlng, we know
of no butter remedy than the following words,
attributed to a learned Brahmin i
** In all thy desires, let reason go before thee,
and fix not thy hopes beyond tho bounds of
probability. So shall success attend thy un
dertaking, and thy heart shall not be vexed with
disappointment.”
First Things.
A French paper has an amusing orticle. de
scribing minutely the successive first things
that happen to q man in tho course of his life—
his first hours as a new born baby, his first
troupers, his first day at college, his first scho
lastic prize, his first cigar, his first love letter,
his first swcelhart. And then, coming to his
various experiments in the way of profession,
it describes his first cause as a lawyer, his
“caso” as a doctor, his first battle as a soldier.
It then proceeds io his first wedding night his
first child, his first grey hair, his first wrinkle,
his first rejcciion as on admirer, his first pn r
of spectacles, his first rheumatism, ond—his
first grave!
Tho Parisian view of tho approach of old
age is the most amusing part of all lids, and
wo omit llie long list of lirsilings, till wc come
to the , .
, First Grey Hair —Adolphe carefully plucks
It out. lie has no sooner done it than another
appears at its side. A pest on thcml It is
just like a turrel of applet—as soon as one is
rotten the wlioie lot is spoiled. -Oh. thou
drcssing-glass, in which Adolphe has for so
long seen reflected a youthful and fresh face
every morning say, do you recognize him now 1
•It fs-fndeedtho <Wco handsotaff TttJkfi*ailinfr r oW’
fellow with tho careworn countenance, the blu
ish hollow under the eye, tho dulled complex
ion. and
The first Wrinkle I — lt starts from the left j
eyebrow and coils over the right eyebrow with i
a serpentine inevitaWaness. Ah. that trilling !
furrow ! Of how many illusions is it the grave, i
of how many pleasures—of how many hones !
But, cheer up ! After all, it ts but a wrinkle 1
And a wrinkle docs not prevent you from
drinking, nor from laughing, nor from loving,
ay. and there have been instances of it not pre
venting a man from being loved ! Yet. a little
while, and Adolphe gets beyond even this pos
sibility, and meets with
The First Repulse of his Admiration —Alas!
he is no longer agreeable to woman! But ho
can luxuriate in the past. Me can lock his door
ami stealthily rc-color his faded illusions by
reading over ngoin tho love letters of former
days! But soon again ibis occupation of his
solitude flngSj in interest, and, instead of let
ters to read, he has another companion to at
tend to—
If is first Rheumatism —This enemy steals on.
with its slow and sure approaches toward the
crude!. And with it come sleeplessness, loss
of appetite, cough, deafness, blindness, gout in
the stomach -invisible sappers and miners who
gradually and certainly make their fatal advan
ces, till, finally, the great foe. Death, has hut
to look around the ruins of the place. lie is
gone to
//is first grace—and hia heirs place a hand
some and heavy stone over it, to be sure that he
will not return. And so, drop the curtain!—
The farce is over!
Our Houses.— Wo always look upon our
houses as mure tomporaiy lodgings. Wo are
always hoping to got larger and finer ones, or
are forced some way or other to live whore wo
do not cliouso, and in continual expectation of
changing our place of abode. In tho present
statu of society this is In a great measure una
voidable; but let us remember it la an ovll, and
that so lar as It is avoidable, it becomes our
duty to check the impulse. It is surely a, sub
ject for serious thought, whether It might not
be better for many of us, if. In attaining a cer
tain position in life, wo determined, with God’s
permission, to chooso a house in which wo
would live and die—a homo not to bo increased
by adding stone to stone and fluid to field, but
which being enough for all our wishes at ono
period, we should bo resolved to be satisfied
with forever. Consider this, and also, whether
wo ought not to bo more In iho habit of seeking
honor for our descendants (him our ancestors j
thinking it better to bo nobly remembered than
nobly born ; and, striving to livo that our son’s
sons, for ages to come, might still lead their
children reverentially to tho doors out of which
wo have boon carried to (ho grave, saying,
“ Look, this was his house j this was his cham
ber.”
Bovino Husbands. — A modern traveller tolls
us that tho Jowessos In Thossalonlca (European
Turkey) rovsrso our accepted Jaws of Hymen,
by purchasing (heir husbands. Tho modus op«r
anrfi is thus described i
Brokers nro employed to negotiate marriages,
l no father of a marriageable girl goes to a broker
ana Inquires what bridegrooms tbeto are In tbo
market, no chooses one, higher or lower In
tho social.scale, according to tho dower ho c,nn
afford his daughter, tho pneo bo can pay, and
makes an ofler of so much dower. Thy brldo
groom, through tho broker, demands more t they
chaffer and bargain for weeks, perhaps, and a
bargain Is struck. Tho parties never boo each
other (ill married. Thqdoftcr lathe with’*only
security against dkorco. Tho husband cun di
vorce her when ho chooses, but ho must pay
buck the dower, that sho may bo able to buy
another husband. Mra. I), was tolling a Jewish
girl that wo did not require imydoworln Ameri
ca. “ How then,” skid she, in utter astonish
ment, “ do you do when ho wants to divorce
you?”
ICTIIo limb is proud, cals up himself; pride
is his own glass, his qwh trumpet; his. own
chronicle; and whatever praises Itself but In the
deed, devours the deed in tbo praise.
RLISLE, PA., |PifURSDAY, APRIL #71557.
from Waverlbj's Magazine.
tde^iind.
It ha£ been said, ami truly, that ‘‘man is
composed of mind nr)d;VMcr, n and.yet they
are so closely' related that each influences tlie
other, or that ther.c is Amfixisting sympathy bo*
tween them, so that arf orte is affected so Is the
other. If the body becotne so diseased that the
physical man totters under the severity of the
stroke, the mind, thrpntih Hie relationship ex
isting between it and'.tho. body, often becomes
so deeply aflectcd tbAt.(ier nn E cmcnt ensues—
The diseased manioc exhibits lees alienation of
mind as the body resubits a.more healthy tone,
and the utter eradication.’of the disease from the
physical,.is the wntchwflfd for Reason to again
lake possession of the thtonoßhe so madly ab
dicated. and sway her dictatorial sceptre over
the n,o tal man . \ >
Mental aberatioh often results from oilier
causes than a diseased of the body. Loss
of friends, joss of propcHy, fright, excess of
grief, or joy, often rcsuftQu alienation of mind:
out bore the nature of-Unrigs is reversed; the
physical man teds the shojcK and reels under its
effects, as the mental mitt feels .the shock occa- i
sioned by the disease of>tße body and reels un
der its effects. . Thus it# with the science of
Mesmerism, or almual nstfgnctiam. Mind acts
on mind. In..McsinefUnftthc attention of the!
operator is directed lowanfl the subject, and. as
electricity can go as far'and almost ns quickly i
as the mind can go, the electric current which
is continually einßnallng’frora, and surround- 1
ing man in all his founts upon the cur
rent of thought and passc|ffrom one to iheoth
cr : the electrical fluid permeates the nervous
system of the subject and,brings it under the
control of the operator. V •
[ Two persons may boirtaroom together: a,
; topic that has till then remained foreign, may I
i l>c on the tongue of one, arid to his utter asion- 1
ishment the same subject'be introduced by the
other simultaneously with himself, thus eviden-1
cing that mind acts un mind. I
Man travels in thought,'or mind, to distant
spheres, and wings his flight through illmnt-,
able space in a moment pf time—steps from
earth to Paradise and breathes, in imagination,
the salubrious air and frokrant odors of that
genial clinic, while he is plMding through mud
and mire the distance of’apd.
Every man is possessed-*? a mind : but. ns
the plum grows<op unrestrained and becomes
the bad or crooked tree—or.-lhc stream, without
i the guidance of on meanders
j through the vale, rumbling oVer precipices, and
i pursues a rough, serpentine course, until it
readies its destination, so the child grows up
through youth to nianhood| )f the mind is left
to resolve itself at random‘into whatever the
passions may dictate. Aa the plant needs the
piaming-knift* to detach Uk.rough, uncouth
shoots, and the training, nurlprinu care of the .
nurseryman to give it form aßit grows up to tio 1
a giant tree, so must the nmvl bonurtured and
trained in childhood, and from childhood to
manhood, to give it proper sliape.
The person who neglects' the cultivation of
bis mental powers, and lea veil them to be devel
oped at random, or swayed hi* every evil influ
ence and passion, purstic&d,course that must
consequently make him the pri-
TFori b?gSTfbWTTToiTTaTn&wj/fa controThr's
mind, lie has let) it to bo control lcd)by bis pas
sions, which, through want or proper cultiva
tion, hove become perverted' to tho worst de
gree. -
Tho man of mind is he who, by right culture
and training, has learned to govern his passions.
He not only iravcrscH in thought the planetary
system, but studies the planets themselves,
learns their relation to each other, their distance
from our mundane sphere,- Ihcir changes, itc.
He does not exert his mental energies in gaining
an influence over others that he may sway them
at his will, and lead them at pleasure wither
soever his own ungovernable passions would
guide him : but seek io grin such influence that
those around may bcdnSuced to forsako the
wrong and choose the ri^t—that others may
be henefUted by his example and precepts.
The man of mind doesaiot strive to gain in
formation that ho mayirsoKriro it up in his
memory and monopolize it to/juriiself, but that
ho uinv thus be enabled to fmpdrt a port ion to
his fellows, knowing that, :'aa every act has a
reaction, the reaction iiponhhnsclf will bo hop
pifying and beneficial in its tendency.
To Mim it all up. ihc man of mind makes a
proper use of those talents that on All-wise
Providence has committed to his trust.
The Bellow of the Sea.
The following description of the bottom of
the sen. jk from n recent Iccturo delivered by
Lieutenant Maury, before the Lotvel Institute:
“As lo the character of the bottom they left
that to the fane.) of the poets and the dreams
of the prisoners. They pictured its bottom as
slimy, scattered over with wedges of gold,
great anchor, heaps of pearl, incslimobloslones.
and valued jewels, a thousand wrecks, and a
thousand men that (ishef.gnawed up."
“But Brooks’ lend tells another talo, no
wrecks, no anchors, no dead men’s bones are
scattered on the bottom of the sea. They arc
all buried deep down among tho remains of its
own dead- The bottom of tho sea is covered
many feet deep with microscopic shells, whoso
artificers and tenants have lived, sported and
died at the surface, and whoso remains ore la*
ken by tho current after death, borne away to
the distant regions, and deposited at tho bot
tom as lightly and gentle as tho frost in ns
chamber. Everywhere, in every lone, In the
coral sea, in the North Pacific,,in tho stormy
Atlantic, wherever this admirable sounding rod
has been, it has brought up the evidence of
death and repose. The shells are perfect, and
though they winy have been lying there in cold
obstruction for ages, yet their color and their
looks aro ns fresh and os bright as though the
pale hand had never been near them.”
:'A single quill can bring up at one cast
thousands and millions of these shells, which,
os individuals, the most powerful microscope
alone will recognize. In life they csoapo our
keenest scrutiny, and it is not therefore, till
Wo explore the depth of the sea, examine the
bottom of the ocean, and survey Its dead as
they strew it all over many feet thick with
their skeletons, wq can' fully realize how faith
fully and literally these little creatures, ns well
ns tho great waters, had obeyed. and arc to
this day' obeying, the ordcp that-was given
them on tho fifth day of creation.
Norwegian Fishermen.— -It la Interesting to
.see tlio Norwegian fishermen In Choir best dress
*os on shore. They wear leather broodies, with
pearl or metal hullpns, and ribbons ut fho
knoosj their vests, ami Jackets, uml coats are
also ornamented with rows of buttons, &c.—
Their stockings are white, tliu shoes frequently
sabots scooped nut of a solid piece of wood.—
They liuvo high conical huts,' mill very long
flowing hair. Their wivds and daughters have
dark stuff gowns, with upon bosoms, and red
vesta, with tjnnol ornaments, and a colored or
gilt girdle. They wear n white apron, and a
jieculiiir kind of fillet on tlio lioad. Thoir hnlr
is often plaited In long tails, gathered at tho
back of (ho head, and hound with red bnuda.-t-
Sonib times they wear cloth Jackctallko tho iuod,
~~TaiVt Magaxint,
Prom IVaverly's Magazine.
: ASSOCIATION.
How dees association endear to our hearts
objects which without it aro worthless. Even
as some ruined building is adorned and render
ed beautiful by the clinging ivy when its own
beauty has departed. Almost every one has
sonie sucli treasure with which arc connected a
thousand little incidents of their life. One re
members a clear dancing brook, where in boy.
ish glee ho had sailed lus little boat with as
much piide as he now guided one of the most
gigantic steamers over the billows. And even
now, though a distinguished captain, he looks
back with emotion to those bright summer af
ternoons whence arose his first dreams of sea
life, from which he has arisen to so high n de
gree. Some “dear familiar word” falling on
the heart of another, expands to volumes, in
which are read scenes most sacred, scenes most
gay, scenes most sad. scenes most real: yes.
real: no book is so true as the book of memory.
1 On another’s car falls some note of “Long ago:”
| and as that silver chord again vibrates on the
; heart strings, she can almost catch the strain
(not as it echoed from lips now cold in death).
1 hut ns it floats through heaven’s arches, an
swered by a thousand golden harps. Very
! many of my associations cluster around the old
academy of my native village, and it surely
needs this ivy to decorate it. fur it is very ola,
and is fas* going to decay. The snows of many
a winter have beaten upon its roof; the snow
balls of many generations have battered its
walls : the sun of many a summer have shone
into that room, inviting weary minds to refresh
themselves with fragrance and beauty without.
Many a peaceful moonlight has shone through
i those windows, softening with its mellow light
the cruel aspect of those heart-rending problems
that remain on the blackboard.
Many a laugh has rung through llic hall,
calling up upon tho brow of the proprietor of
the ferrule no very pleasant expression. Some
of these laughs are ringing yet: some arc chan
ged to tears, ami some arc hushed to silence.—
Many feel have trod that now dilapidated stair
case. Some arc still treading the busy paths
of life, and some are at rest forever. But is
the academy now deserted ? Are the echoes all
silent ? Arc the seats all vacant ? Oh no !
Others, younger and gay hearted, occupy the
desks which once wet ours ; and should we
dire to claim them now. we should be deemed
intruders.
Then.’ said Iho dress maker, very positive
ly. 'it will be- necessary for Madame to omit
the dinner.’
And to this desperate resolve Madame dc
K consented. She took the dress maker
home with her, ordered a dozen oysters, and a
bottle of Bordeaux, and. sent an apology of
headache. She would make her appearance in
time for the dance.
•Twelve oysters !* exclaimed the modeste, os
she saw her customer go at them voraciously.
‘Please, Madame, omit one! Eleven arc as
many as your corsage will admit! Alas. Mad
ame. the last oyster takes up a great deal of
11 see those \vho have gone out to benefit the | room !
world with the education lure received, some to I 'Eleven be it. then! said Madame with a
1 plant the " Rose of Sharon” in a fnrr, K n land. \ »>«•>• And leaving the longed-for ultimatum
The literary productions of others form, iho on the plate, she completed her toilette for the
choicest volume In our libraries- the fruits of evening. .
that most dreaded task —composition-writing. Her friends found her figure charming her
Oh way the academy long stand and send forth waist as light as ever—herself paler 'than she
many more characters os noble and useful as it used to be. but still otherwise unchanged,
can now boast of having formed. Many rell- And the gnawing sensation of unappease hun
gious associations, also, are connected with the 6 er which she had all the evening, was consol
i)ldLACadcniy._oncL these aradenrerthaq any. fd tlm compliments to her unnvallcdTdrefls.
chffffcw ifdl-rttarnilKrtri and-MiU. bcamifurMffiSf!
mot, to receive instruction Crofri those lips which, Hitt another oyster would hare burst the lacing
arc now cold /n dcath-- But his teachings still of the adorable oorsogo 1 And, (moral I) to
live, wo trust in the hearts of many, and how forego that twelfth oyster should be taught la
often hearts have been molted by his words off the discipline of female academics. 1
love and tender affection, ns when he taught us
that all things here arc fading, falling and dy
The walk is one continued record : and. as I
look down the long vista of departed years,
and see
“ Friends that now are scattered,
Like roses in bloom,
Some at llie bridal,
Some ut the tomb.”
log. lie bade us seek an interest in that temple
above, that building of tiod. that house not
made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
Goon Sucikty.— It should bo tho aun of young
men to go into good society. Wo do not mean
tho rich, tho proud and fashionable, hut the so- 1
cioly ol thp wise, tho intelligent and good.—
Whore you (Iml moil Hint know more than you
do, ami from whoso convermilion one cun gain
information, It is always sutu to bo found. It
has broken down many a man by associating
with the low and vulgar—whore tho ribald song
was inculcated— and tho Indecent story, to ex
cito laughter ami infiuoncu the had passions.
Lord Clarendon has attributed his success and
happiness in fife, to associating with persons
umro virtuous (ban himself. If you wish lo bo
wise and respected—if you dosiro happiness and
not misery, wo advise you fo associate with the
Intelligent ami the good. Strive for mental ex
cellence and strict integrity, and you will never
he found in the sinks of pollution, and on tho
honchos ot (he retailers and gamblers. Onco
habituate yourself lo n virtuous course—once
secure a love of good society, and no punish
ment would be greater (ban by accident to bo
obliged for halt a day to associate with the low
ami vulgar. *
Palestine. — In entering Palestine, Mr. Stan
ley, in common with all other travelers, was
struck witii tho smallness of a territory which
tills so largo a space in tho history of mankind.
Us breadth randy exceeds tity miles, uhllo Ms
extreme length, from “Dan to Deersholm,” is
but one hundred and eighty. From almost ovary
height in Palestine the entire breadth of tho ter
ritory may lie taken in at a view, from tho hills
of Moabto the seat and the traveler, oven in
despite of previous preparation, is startled (a
(Iml that In one long day lie has passed from (he
capital of Judea to that of Samaria, or that, In
eight hours, ho lias seen “ three such spots ns
llobron, Bethlehem, and Jerusalem.” It brings
a strange fooling, too, especially after leaving
the uncertain topography of the desert, to ar
rive suddi nly in the midst of places whoso still
existing names have boon familiar to us from
infancy, ns the scones of events which wo have
never thought of without nwoj—“to hoar tho
names of Carmel, Maon, Zlnh, shouted out by
tho Bedouin guides, nr by tho plowman in tho
fields, who know no more of David's wanderings
than those ot Ulysses.” This is tho charm of
travel in a classic land. But nowhere Is it fell
with half tho security which is enjoyed among
tlie unquestioned localities of tho laud ot' tho
BIMo.
Oun Homes. —Genius hath its triumph, fame
its glories, wealth its splendor, success its
bright rewards, hut the heart only hath its homo.
Homo only I Whnt more noodeth (he heart 7
What more can It gain? A true Home Is more
than (ho world—more than honor, and prldo,
and fortune—moro than all earth can give—the
light, (he noonday sun may not yield, and yet
tho tiny flames of one pure beam o( love on*
kindloth, and sympathy makes to burn forever.
Homo I how more beautiful thou art I how
like an untaught religion I a golden link be
tween the soul and heaven I when tlio presence
of a pure heart makes (boo radiant, and the music
of its affection floats like tho chorals of unseen
cherubim? around thy tranquil hearth.
K 7“ A younger brother had espoused an old
and IlMomporod wife, but extremely rich, lie
used to say, «< Whenever I find my wife cross,
and ray own temper giving way, I retire to my
library, and console myself by reading her mar
riage settlement. 1 ’
(C T Thcro iu so great a charm In friendship,
that there is Crcn a kind of pleasure in ack
nowlcdging'oncsclf duped by tho sentiment it
inspires.
D7Unbounded modesty, more
ihnn unavowed vanity? tho too humble obcU
unco is sometimes a disguised impertinence.
AT 32,00 PER ANNUM
NO. 46.
The Twelfth Oyster's Difference.
Madame dc K , a Russian lady of great
consequence, formerly, in the fashionable world,
returned lately 10 Paris. She had been absent
some years, and of course had been forgotten,
but it was now necessary to her happiness that
she should re-conqucr her former glories as the
I most adorable and best dress of women—par
' tioulorly the latter. She called again upon her
[former dress-tnakcr, the most eminent of course
| in her successes of toilettes, confided to her the
, problem and i:s anxieties. There was to be a
I certain ball. Madame de K , wished to
appear first at that, in nearly the costume of a
Gabrielle d’Eilrees. It was promised.
On the morning of the day of the ball, Mad
ame called upon her dress maker. The dress
was done. It was a miracle of perfect beauty !
Twenty thousand francs* worth of lace reposed
softly on folds of fulle, plaited as if by the fin
gers of faries. The corsage was truly roorvel
ous—but—oh horror! —when it came to be
tried on, it was found impossible for Madame
de K to enter it! Against the hints and
counsel of the dress maker it bad been made
upon her old measure.
•Oh. desolation inexpressible!' exclaimed
Madame.‘what is to be done ? Until cannot
be helped. You must set instantly to work
and make me another corsage !’
■lmpossible!’ said the modiste, 'wehave but
three hours, and thirty dresses to complete and
send home in that lime.' ‘But, would Madame
make one more effort V
The cflori was made, and. this lime, the cor
sage admitted Madame and her enlargements.
But she was very (rale, and had recourse every
moment or two, to her ‘salts. ’ ‘I sufiocate!’
she panlingly cried.
•Madame will get accustomed toil, little by
little, said the /misuse. ‘And then, with the
exercise of the ball, 'ho size diminishes. For
tunately it is a ball, for if it were a dinner par
ly. Madame would be obliged lo give up the
dress. *
The stifling woman looked with glaring eyes
upon the speaker- 'lt is a dinner!’ she ex
claimed with horror. ‘They dance after
wards !’
Thb Whoso Legs.—A gentleman of this
city, who has the bad fortune to bo troubled
with rheumatism in (he legs, and the good for
tune to have an excellent wife, who is ever
I prompt in applying the usual remedies to ar
-1 rest the vexatious pains of this treacherous
' complaint, went home one evening last week
j suffering greatly from Ins old misery.” Ilia
I zealous wife immediately rushed to llio side
bomd, and taking out the bottle of what she
i supposed to be Uallea’s Pain Extractor, pro
ceeded to rub the fl(Hict<d husband's legs and
feet with the magical elixir. With a gratclul
smile the affectionate husband signified his
Areal relief, remarking, also, that a good wife
was really an inestimable blessing.
••And. bythe-by, my dear.” continued (ho
affectionate spouse, “I see you hare been var
nishing the legs of this old furniture; they
have needed it for n long lime.”
■ What put that into your head ? asked tho
good wife.
"Wby, Can't 1 snull 1 I must scrtninly
have a bad cold if I could escape that rather
strong odor of ccpal varnish which pervades
the room. ”
"You arc mistaken ; I have not opened tho
varnish botilc to-day.”
At this the husband, happening to cast his
cyiS down to his kneeling wife, who was still
rubbing his extremities, was astonished and
horrified at the spectacle they presented. They
were of a beautiful mahogany color, so bright
ly polished that he could seu bis own startled
countenance as distinctly in them as M» a look*
mg glass. Seizing the bottle of magical elix
ir, what was Ins horror to discover that it was
labeled "copal varnish !"
Tins explained the odor, and established an
important fact in medical practice, that the
best cure for rheumatism is a thick coaling of
copal varnish. We had the same remedy em
ployed in cases of cholera, to arrest prespira
don, but this is tho first case We have ever
known of i s being found as effective it restoring
tho damaged legs of men as those of tables and
Sidotboards. —Oincimiuti Enquirer.
Do it VoinisKLVKS. Ilova.—Why ask the
teacher or some class-mate »o solve that prob
lem I Do it yourselves. You might as well
let them cat your dinacr nfl "do your sums for
you." It is in studying as in eating : ho that*
does it gets tho benefit, and not ho that sees it
dduo. In almost every school I would give
more for what tho teacher learns; simply be
cause tho teacher is compelled to solve all the
hard problems for them, and answer tho ques
tion of the lazy hoys. Do not ask him to parse
all tho difficult words or assist you m tho per*
forninneo of any uf your duties. Do it your*
selves. Never mind though they look as dark
as Egypt. Don't ask oven a hint from any
body. Try again. Every trial increases your
ability, and you will finally succeed by tho
very dint of wisdom and strength gained in
this effort, even though at first tho problem
was boyond your skill. It is the study and
not tho answer that really rewards your pains.
Look at that boy who has sccuccdcd after six
hours of hard study, perhaps. How his eye is
lit up with a proud joy as ho marches to his
class. lie reads like a conqueror, and well ho
may. His poor weak school-mate who gave up
that same problem after tho first faint trial,
now looks up to him with something of wonder
ns a superior. Tho problem lies there, n great
I gulf between those boys who stood yesterday
aide by side. They will ncverstand logolhcras
equals again- Tho boy that did it f° r himself
has taken a stride upwards, and what is bettor
still, gained strength for greater ones. The!
one who wailed to see others do it has lost I
both strength and courage, and hi already look-1
log for some excuse to give up school and study I
forever. - . I
telegraph wires in every direction
liAfo been much injured by iho storm*
From the Cohoes Cataract, April 10.
JtTElopement—Base Desertion.
Officer Milmao of Lansingburg, came to Ihfe
village on Wednesday last.M'n company of Mr-
Stone, a resident of Landgrove, Vt., in search
of a man named Kelly, who left a wife and three
children about two months ago near the. latter
place, and eloped with the step daugbterof Mr.
Slone, under the following circumstances;
The erring girl had been employed in the fa
mily of Kelly, and it-is supposed that while
there site consented to his base proposals and
made arrangements for an elopement. It Jiyaa
arranged that she should engage to work-in ,d
collar factory in Lansingburg. and that Kelly
should propose to her unsuspecting parents
that ho would accompany her to the cars at
Bennington, whither his business (that of a
daguerrean artist.) should vail him, and as hb
was in the habit of being absent from homo,
engaged in his profession,-the circumstances
would excite ho suspicion, and, they would be
enabled to accomplish their object,, ;
Their plan proved successful, and four weeks
had elapsed before the guilty pair appeared, id
Lansingburg, from which place the girl prom*
ised to write to her parents, informing theft of
her success in her new undertaking. &c. - Kel
ly then procured boardfor.tbe girl in the fami
ly of Mr. Millmnn, and then went away- After
she had been there a few days. Mrs.- M. sus
pected that all was not right, and ‘
presston to her suspicions, by asking her if
“ she was sure she was roamed ?” to' which she
replied that ‘ 'she was if the officer was qualified
who performed the ceremony.” The next day
she went to Uoosic in company with -ah "ac
quaintance, to visit a friend, and while she was
gone Kelly came to Mr. Millman’s residence,
and inquired where his wife was. He was told,
and in the rooming bo went after her, and front
Hoosio brought her to this village, where ho
made arrangements for her board, ami then left
“on business.” She 'remained one week, and
then went (9 the hotel, where she boarded until
the 3d inst., when Kelly again mado his ap
pearance. and they departed for parts unknown.
Kelly is quite a young man, rather prepos
sessing in ntS appearance, but is evident!/*
villain. But a short time since he was arrested
for passing counterfeit money, but through the
iuflucnco of his friends, who arc wealthy* ho
was released.
His companion in crime is vary lady likb ih
her appearance, and we arc told ia quite accom
plished, but like many infatuated young gtrls
who disorder their imaginations by reading.ye]-
low covered literature, and determined to bavo
a romantic adventure, without considering the
dreadful consequences which are sure to follow
such a course.
A Desperate Villain,
The Texas State Gazette has an account of
the capture at Waco, in that Stale, of-*' Bill
Johnson," a notorious desperado, lie bad fled
from San Antonio, charged with a crime, and
his hiding place was discovered. The G&zetto
says:
The Sheriff soon received from San Antonio,
a capias for Johnson's arrest. Il was found
that he had taken up bis quarters for resistance
at Blackcnship’s storehouse, and was armed
with six double barreled shot guns, doubtless
provided for him -by accomplices. Echtls, the
Deputy Sherlft, broke down the door of the en
trance. and (he party summoned as the Sheriff'S
posse, attempted to enter two abreast. John
son was seen standing like a furious Hon in the
back part of the store room and shot into, tho
41 pile." aiming a centre shot; but it was a.lit
tle to the right and tho arms of all those on tho
right side were shot, and their coals and cloth
ing literally lorn to pieces. Tobc Carmack re
ceived three buck shot in the arm, young Thom
asson seven, and Eichclbcrgcr one.
The reports of the guns soon brought to lU6
spot a large number of citizens, who knowing
that Johnson had secretly several aiders and
abettors, came well aruicdwilh shotguns, rifles
and pistols. Johnson remained in the bouse,
first firing out of the front aod afterwords
changing his position to tho bock door, and for
BOmo lime keeping up a Arc upon the citizens,
.finally no made a desperate effort at retreat,
and 1 running oul’of thc back dodr yvilhTa shdt
gun and side arm*, ho attempted to gain (ho
rive A....
On his retreat, he turned upon his pursuers,
and taking aim at Mr. Buchanan, wounded him
in (ho right thigh, hip and near the kneo. He
was at last brought to tho ground by the shots
of tho party in pursuit. Ho was found to be
shot through tho centre of the breast with a
rifle bullet. Ho had also received a buckshot
in liis mouth which lodged in his neck. It was
thought that lie would die in a few minutes,
and ho was left there reluctantly by tho cltl«
zens. who were so exasperated at him, that un
der other circumstances ho must have been
thrown into Brazos river.
His friends came to his relief, and carried him
to Ulackcnship A Baker’s grocery. Tho Sheriff
learning tins fact, and ascertaining that his
wounds were not mortal, again took charge Of
him, and he was carried to the Drury Hotel
under guard. These events transpired oh thfc
7th Inst. On tho same night he feigned so well
that death’s hand was upon him, that some of
the guard left to warm themselves by the fire.
He suon rose, seized a gun, and fired at Mr.
Griffin, but missed him. Tho latter returned
the lire, breaking Ins jaw bone. It was thought
at last accounts that he would soon die of ills
wounds. Tho wounded citizens, we learn, or 6
doing well. ;
. Tl is Said that this desperado had already
killed seven men before tho present awful tra
gedy, and that one of the number was his owd
father.
An Indian Tragedy.
Oi, Sunday last, at 4 o’clock P. M., os Mr.
Jerry Montrickct and Harrison Loomis—tho
former of Minnesota, and the latter of Wiscon
sin—were towing a boat olong the edge of tho
Ice on the Mississippi, between tho mouth of the
Chippewa and Nelson’s Landing, on tho Wis
consin side, they were met by three Sioui In
dians, one of whom (Iron Cloud) was Intoxica
ted. and who, without any provocation what
ever. raised his gun. gave tho fearful warhoop,
and shouting "Chippewa." llrcd at tho above
named gentlemen. Mr. Montrickct, being toe
foremost, was shot in the back, to tbo right of
the spinal column, the ball passing obliquely
forward and making its exit out of the side be
tween the seventh ami eigth ribs’, wounding tho
liver. Mr. Loomis received two balls, ono of
which entered the body on tho right side, just
above the right pclvio bone, passing through
the lower portion ol the abdomen and lodging
in the left side; the other ball entered tbo .fopt
at the base of tho lesser too, passing through
the foot and lodging at tho base of the greater
toe. Wo learn that there was also another
gentleman in the boat at tho time (whose name!
we did not learn) who was fortunately not in
jured. After shooting the trVo men, the Indi
an deliberately commenced loading his'guii
again, but was prevented from doing so by ono
of hia companions, who wrested his gun - from
him and broko-it over a log. Tho uninjured
man then, brought his wounded cqmptvnlonS to
Nelson’s Landing front where a mnnbcrbfmen
immediately started out and arrested tlio Indi
an. They tied his hahds together, put him in
to a canoo and brought him over id tho Minn
esota side ; ho afterwards wan taken bkek to
tho Wisconsin side—to tho place were lit com
mitted tho crime -and (here was hung by tho
citizens. Since writing the nbnyb, we lean*
from tho attending surgeon that Mr. Loomis is
dead, and that Mr. Montrickct is not out of
danger.— lVabashaw M. T. Journal.
07' Those that admonish jtheir (Vlchds, rays
Plutarch, should observe this rule, not to leave
them with sharp expressions. HI language do
stroyo tho forco of reprehension, which should
bo always given With prudence and circumspec
tion.
you know I was hero1" : Bakl tho
bellows to tho fire. - :
“Oh* yea. I always conltWo lo get wiivi V
you,'* was the reply. ' .