A AMERICAN VOLUNTEER.
rUBXiISItED EVERT THDKSDAY MOBNINQ BY
Jolm B. »' a‘ ton v
L:
v:. TERMS- „ *
n n n Dollar and Fifty Cents*
■ v '?r- M *S^o^oSLllp.l d .wPiniho
pmd in advance f>„ii nrg and Fifty Cents, if not
year; and Two » ol^”“ 0 terms will bo rig-
FdTy adhor d every instance. No sub-
Kc TnHon discontinued until all arrearages are
paid*unie'ss'af the option of the Editor. ,
■ AnvEnTisEMENTS— Accompanied by the cash,
and hotoxceeding one square, will bo inserted
throe times for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents
lor each additional insertion. Those of a great
tor length in proportion.
. Jon-PniNTiuo—Such ns Hand-bills, Posting
bills, Pamphlets, Blanks,Rabbis,.&o.,&c., exe
cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice.
|fortital.
From the Dollar Thrift.
FAREWELL. TO YODTII.
»r JAMES STEPHENSON".
The days of my dream-life are past.
And I am resolved to be sage,
I have lived, as some others, too fast,
But had to keep up with the age.-
How many maturity, see.
Whether life has been joyburs or sad,
Whowouhl not again like to be, ,
A rosy checked lassie or lad ? ''
As the records of youth we unfold,
Pei\.hance we see many a blot.
But its pages have pictures of gold,
Which those of the present have not.
Our loves and our friendships are there,
Uncertain, alas! as the tide;
They formed the sweet license of prayer,
Yet the flame on their altar has died.
What I cannot with pleasure recall,
1 fain would forever forget;
Better have no remembrance at all :
Than remember with tears of regret.
Time changes the head and the heart,
Experience leaches us truth ;
But we oft fromits precepts depart,
And have visions in age as in youth.
The world has enough that is real,
■ With tangible beauties it teems !
Then, why should we court the ideal.
And feed.the poor soul upon dreams.
My manhood ! t welcome its.reign,
Be its years unto wisdom resigned,
The lost may it fully regain.
And yet leave a foot-print behind.
“DOES HE LOVE DIE 2”
I wonder if ho loves me, .
When he says my face is fair,
And bis dear .band softly lingers,
’Mid the ribglefs of my hair I.
I wonder ifbc loves me—
Oh, whisper very, low,
Bright, starry orbs of evening,
The secret if you know 1
Clear streams that ripple softly,
And birds that sweetly sing,
If be over said be loved me,
The joyous tidings bring!
Blue violets that lie gave mo,
To the rosebuds in my halt 1 ,,
[n pretty perfumed whispers
My happiness declare I
Ob, azure eyes, and Icarlul,.
Bright flowerets of the dell—
My-timid heart was Icarlul
You’d nothing “ sweet to 101 l I”
Then close your petals softly,
Oh, blue eyes sink to sleep,
For violets that he gave me,
Ye must not see me weep I
=E=IMEIINCI
—A -fioor Arto «tolo-around, hor.
And on,the loved one’s breast,
Toiing Kittle ceased to wonder—
• She knew that she.-was blest.
BliMlteim
From Dr. Livingstone’s « Adventures and Disco
' Tories in South Africa.” Just puhlisfied.by.
. Hampers & Bno’a., Now York..
AN ELEPHANT HUNT.
•We were on llic side of a fine green valley,
studded here and there with trees, and cut by
numerous rivulets. I had retired from the noise,
to take on observation among some rocks of
laminated grit, when I beheld an elephant and
her ciilf at the end of the valley about two miles
dislaflt. The calf was rolling in the.mud, and
the dam was slanding fanning herself with her
great cars. As I looked at them through my
glass, X saw a long string of my own men ap
pearing on the other side of them, and Sekwebh
came and loltj me that these had gone off saying,
“ Our father will see to-day what sort of meri
he has got.” I then went higher up the side
of the valley, in order to have a distinct view of
their mode of hunting. The goodly beast, to
tally uftconsbious of the approach of an enemy,
stood for some time suckling her yobng one,
which seemed about two years old : they then
went into a pit containing mud, and smeared
themselves all over with it; the little one frisking
about his dam, flapping his ears and tossing his
trunk incessantly, in elephantine fashion. She
kept flapping her cars and wagging her fail, ns
if in the height of enjoyment. Then began the
piping of her enemies, which was performed by
blowing into a tube, or the hands dosed toge
ther, as boys do'into a key.' They call' oat to
attract the animal’s attemion,
“0 chief! chief! we have come to kill you,
O chief! chief! many more will die besides
you, etc.
The gods have said it,” etc., etc.
Both animals expanded their cars and listen
ed, then left their bath as the crowd rushed to
ward them. The little one ran forward toward
the end of the valley, but, seeing.tho men there,
returned to his dam. She placed herself on the
danger side of her calf, and passed her proboscis
over it again and again, as .if to assure it of
safety. She frequently looked back to the men,'
who kept up an incessant shouting, singing,
and piping; thenrlooltfed wt her young one and
ran after it, sometimes sideways, as if her feel
ings were divided between, anxiety to protect
her offspring and desire to revenge the temerity
of her persecutors. The men kept abqut one
hundred yards in her rear, and some that dis
tance from her flanks, and continued thus until
she was obliged to cross a rivulet. The time
spent in descending and getiing-mp the oppo
site bank allowed their coming up to the edge,,
and discharging their spears at about twenty
yards distance. After the first discharge she
appeared with her sides red with blood, and,
beginning to Uco for her own life, seethed to
think no more of her young, I had previously
sent off Sekwebu with orders to spare 1 the calf*.
It went very fast,-but nelihcr young, nor old
ever enter into a,gallop I their quickest pace is
only a sharp wnlk, Before Sekwebu could
reach them, the calf sought refuge in the water,
and was killed. The pace of the dam gradual!
ly became slower. She turned-with a shriek
of rage, and made a furious charge back among
the men. They vanished at right angles to her
course,or sideways, and, as.she ran straight
on, she went through the whole party, but
came near no one except one man who wore a
piece of cloth on his shoulders. Bright cloth
ing i.s always, dangerous in these cases. . She
three or four rimes, and, except ip the
first instance, never went further than one huu-
. . . .
. . .
. . •
. . . • . r. .
• /....". ' , .
~ .. . . 1: • . . - . .
...., . . . .
_ .... . :_.
~.. . .
. , ..
. .. I .
. . .
. .
. .
. . ,
. .
, .
. . . .. ..... ~ ,
:
.. . ,
. ' '.. .. . ..
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
VOL. 44.
dred yards. She often stood after she had
crossed n rivulet, and faced the men, though she
received fresh spears. It was by this process
of spearing and loss of blood that she was kil
led ; for at last, making a short" charge, she
staggered round and sank down dead in'a kneel
ing posture. I did not see the whole hunt,
having been teinpted away by both sun and
moon appearing unclouded.’ I turned Irom the
spectacle of the destruction of noble animals,
which might be made so useful in Africa, with
a feeling of sickness, and it was nof relieved,by
the recollection that the ivory was mine, tho’
that was the case. I regretted to sec them
killed, and more especially tho young one, the
meat not being necessary at the-time; but it is
right to add that I .did not feel sick when my
own blood was up the day before. We ought,
to judge’those deeds more leniently in
which ourselves have no temptation to engage.
Had I not been previously guilty of doing tho
very same thing, I might have prided myself
on superior humanity whenjt experienced the
nausea in viewing my men kill those two.
SOLDIER ANTS,
I observed several regiments of black so’dicr
ants returning from the marauding expeditions.
They are black with -a. slight tinge of«gray,
about half an inch in length, and on the time of
march appear three or four abreast; .when dis
turbed, they utter a distant hissing or chirping:
sound. They follow a few. leaders who never
carry anything, and they seem to be guided by
a scent left on the path by the leaders : lor,
happening once to throw the water, from my
basin behind a bush where I was dressing, it
lighted on the path by which a regiment had
passed before I began, my toilette, and when
they returned they were totally at loss to find
the way 'home,' though they continued search
ing for it nearly half, an hour. It was found
only by one making g long circuit round the
welted spot. The scent may have indicated
also the propriety’ of their going iii one direc
tion only. If a handful of earth is • thrown’on.
the path at the middle of the regiment, cither
on its way’ home or abroad, those bdhiiid it are
completely at loss as to their farther progress.
What it may be that guides them, they seem
only to know that they are net to. return, for
they come up.to the handful of earth, but they
will not cross it, thpugh not a quarter of an
inch high. They wheel round and regain their;
path' again.-but never think of retreating to
.their nest, or (he place whore they have been
s ealing. Aflera quarter of an hour’s confu
sion and hissing; one may make a circuit of a
foot round the eartlu.and soon nil follow in that
roundabout way. When on their way to at
tack the abodeof the'white ants, the latter may
be observed rushing about in a stale of great
perturbation., Tire black leaders, distinguish
ed from the rest by their great size, especially
in the region of the sting, then seize the white
ants one by one, and inflict a sting, which
seems to inject a potion of fluid similar in ef
fect 10 chloroform, as it renders them insensi
ble, but not dead, and only able to move on two
front legs As the leaders toss them on one
side, the rank and; file seize them and carry
them oft’. ' , '.
Without these black soldier-ants thocounlry.
would be overrun by the white ants ; they are
extremely prolific, and nothing can exceed the
energy with which they work. They perform
nhimportant part in the economy of nature by
burying vegetable matter as quickly beneath
the soil as the ferocious red ant: does'animal
Substances. The white ant keeps generally out
of sight, and works under galleries constructed
by night to screen them from the observation
of birds. At some given signal, however, I
never could ascertain what, they rush out by
hundreds, and the sound of their mandibles cut
ting grass into lengths may be heard like a
gentle wind murmuring through ihe leaves of
the trees. They drag these.pieces to the doors
of their abodes, and after some' bom s toil leave
off work, and many of the hits of grass may be
“seen collected around They con
tinue out ofsight for perhaps a month, but they
are never idle. On one occasion, a good bun
dle of grass was laid down for my bed on a spot
which was quite smooth and destitute of plants.
The ants at once sounded the call to a good
supply of grass; I heard them incessantly nib
bling and carrying away all that night ; and
they continued all next day (Sunday) and all
that night too, with unabated energy. They,
had thus been thirty-six hours at it, nhd seem
ed as fresh as ever. In some situations, if we
remained a day, they devoured the grass he
neath my mat, and. would have eaten that too
had we not laid down more grass. At some of
their operations they beat time in a curious
manner. Hundreds of them are engaged in
building a large turbo, and they wish to beat
it smooth. At, a signal, they ail give three or
’ four energetic beats on the plaster in unison.—'
It produces a sound like the dropping of rain
off n hush when touched. These insects are
the chief agents employed in forming a fertile
soil. But (Of their labors, the tropical forests,
bad as they are now with fallen trees, would
be a thousand limes worse. They would bo
impassible on account of the heaps of dead veg-,
elation lying onJhe surface, and emitting worse
jffluvia than the comparatively small unburied
collections do now. <
Educational lligit Pressure.— ln con
demning the uurelaxihg discipline to which our
boys and girls are now subjected, the Medical
Circular says, the mind as well as the body is
sure to suffer from it. Instead, of forcing as
much instruction in a given time into the hu
man brain ns its capacity and powers of appre
hension will receive, the tutor should consider
that childhood is the appropriate lime for the
discipline of -the body, for the consolidation of
the bony fabric, for the invigorntion. of. the
muscles, and the healthful dcvclopcment of the
glandular or nutritive system. Pure air, exer
cise, liberty and a sufficiency of good food are
absolutely accessory to physical development;
to which we would add, moderate study, and a
watohlul encouragement of gay and joyous
emotions. -To enable us, however, to carry out
such a system as this, we must keep our child
ren longer at school than is the present custom,
so that wo shall not be under the need of requir
ing one age' to do the work of another. Time
is an important clement in training ; aud if we
work against it, we put the faculties to an un
natural strain, which must be productive of
much unconsidercd evil.
Drummed out op the Service.— An incorrig
ible thievish marine was drummed out' of the
service at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, on 'Wed
nesday last. Ho was tried by a court-martial,
and sentenced to be kept in iropsforono week,
and fed bn broad and Water, The week expired
on Wednesday. Just at evening, as Hie work
men were leaving tho yard, lib was brought out
accompanied by a file of marines, a card with
‘thief’ written upon it was pinned to his breast,
and (ho tune of the ‘Koguo’s March,’ executed
in fine style, by a detachment from tho North
Carolina Band, ho out of tho yard
and service, amid the bootings of hundreds,who
had assembled to Witness the proceedings.
UF” A wicked wag of a lawyer,.in a country
court,recently scandalized the bench by putting
tlie following to his professional brethren
“Why is Judge— like necessity 7” Tho'mera
oors pf tho bar quickly answered, .'Because ho
knows no law.’
DOCTOR JOHNSON.
Dr. Johnson was one of the brightest literary
ornaments of the eighteenth century. . He was
born at Litchfield, iu Staffordshire, in Septem
ber, 1709, and died in December, 1784, at tho
advanced ago of nearly seventy-six years. His
father was a bookseller, and from him he inher
ited political prejudices and! a morbid melan
choly, which had a baneful influence on his life.
He was troubled with scrofula, which disfigured
his face, and deprived him of the sight of one of
his eyes. Notwithstanding these natural and
constitutional defects, ho rose to the highest
eminence in the world of literature, by that pa
tient and dogged industry, which, if not in re
ality genius, is one of the best substitutes fork
that can be found. He was a commoner at Ox
ford for three, years, and was driven from his
studies there through extreme poverty. His
first literary attempt was a translation, for
which he received five guineas. In his twenty
sixth year he married a widow nearly double
his age, whose fortune was less than eight hun
dred pounds sterling. Ho was a schoolmaster
for a year and a half, and during this period
.wrote the most of his tragedy called Irene.
In 1737, lie came to London, with one of his
pupils, the celebrated David Garrick. . His tra
gedy was refused by the managers of the thea
tres in London, and for some years he was
wholly dependent for support on his employ
ment as a writer in the. Gentleman's Magazine.
The most remarkable part of Dr. Johnson’s ca
reer was certainly that of his contributions to
this magazine, consisting of the fabrication of
the speeches of the most eminent members of
both Houses of Parliament. These-imaginary
orations induced Yoltaire to compare the British
eloquence of tho senate with the eloquence of
the ancient orators of Greece and Rome ; but
they w'crc the creations of Dr. Johnson’s mind.
They were hastily sketched by him at a period
when lie was barely thirty-two years of age, but
little acquainted with the world, and struggling
hot for distinction or. literary fame, but for ex
istence. These speeches, which, he put into the
mouths o( both Houses, were composed from
scanty notes taken by illiterate reporters ; and
sometimes, ho had nothing given him but the
names of the speakers and the part they took in
the debate.
About Ibis period several publications of Dr.
Johnson attracted the notice of the public; par
ticularly a poem entitled London,” in-imita
tion of the third satire of Juvenal, which re
ceived the approbation of Pope.. His friendship
with the poet Savage was a curious part of his
literary history-, and his life 6'f that unfortunate
manJiad been both admired and condemned.—
As a literary,production, it ranks very high.—
In 1749, he wrote hfs celebrated prologue for his
pupil Garrick, who had undertaken the manage
ment of Drury Lane Theatre; and he commen
ced his immortal work, ‘‘The Dictionary of
the English Language.” His conduct towards
his pretended patron. Lord Chesterfield, on the
completion of this great work; is worthy of ad
miration, notwithstanding the polished asperity
with which it was accompanied. Ho. rejected
his lordship’s advances after the work had re
ceived thfc approbation of the public, letting him
know, in very polite terms, that he was unwil
ling that the public should consider him to he
owing to a patron that which providence had
enabled him to do for himself. . ■
His wife," whom, notwithstanding the dispar
ity of years, he appears to have sincerely loved,
died in .1752, and he jnmqnlcd hcy loss nslong
ns lie lived, While the dictionary*- was advanc
ing to completion, he had published “The Ram
bler,” a periodical of wonderful rherit. and the
'“Adventurer,” a similar work : the latter with
the assistance of friends. In 1758, ho publish
ed “The Idler,” another periodical, but of in
ferior merit to the former. In the following
year lie wrote his celebrated novel, entitled—
“Rasselas ; or,' the. Prince of Abyssinia,” in
order to defray, by its sale, the expenses of his
mother’s funeral’, and to liquidate some
debts she had left unpaid—an example to thou
sands who protend to greater charity than the
doctor. ..
In 1702, ho obtained from Qovcrnraeht'a pon
sioirof three hundred pounds per annum for his
past labors. In 1704, he instituted “The Lite
rary Club,”'which mot at the Turk’s Head, in
Gerard street, Soho; and, in 1705, gave to the
world In's edition of Shakspearo. In 1773, he
visited the western island of Scotland, and pub
lished an amusing account of his journey, which
provoked the ire of the Scols, who could'not
withstand the jocular sarcasms of the witty au
thor, In 1781, he finished his celebrated work,
“ The Lives of the Poets,” a work which has
provoked much criticism, and which certainly
is not without its faults, notwithstanding the
great abilities of the author.
Dr. Johnson was a man of great strength of
body, and great powers of mind, although he
was the subject of painful hereditary disease
and an unconquering constitutional melancholy.
He had a strong sense of the importance of
religion, tinctured with gloom and superstition.
He had a roughness in his manner which con
cealed his good qualities ; but those who knew
him best loved him most. He was both gener
ous and grateful, and susceptible of the kindest
impressions. His writings breathe a pure mor
ality, and are dignified by an clegiinecand mag
nificence of style which has often .been imitated,,
but rarely or never surpassed; His works will
long stand ns a monmnent of this learning; in
genuity, and classic erudition, of the contOry
which ho adorned.— London Journah
I WOULD I WERE A BOY AGAIit-
We talk of Adam and Eve as having been,
before the fall, in.a very happy condition, but
one thing they missed, they were never chil
dren; —Correspondent Albany Register.
True. We never thought of that. Adam
never played marbles. He never played “hok
cy.” He never skated on a pond, or played
“ball,” or rode down hill on a hand sleigh.—
And Eve, she never made a play-house, she
never took tea tables sot out with tea things,
she never rolled a hoop or jumped a rope, or
pieced a baby quilt, or dressed a doll. They
never played “ blind man’s buff,” or “puss
wants a corner,” of " hurly burly, ’’ or any of
the games with which childhood sports itself.
How blank their age must have been, wherein
no memories of early youth came swelling up
in their hearts ; no mother’s voice chanting a
lullaby to tho ear of infancy in the still hours
of night; no father’s voice of kindness speak
ing from the church yard he' sleeps in. Adam
and Eve, and they alone of all the countless
millions of men and women that ever lived,
wore never children. ,
dt Widows.— Tho Macon
(Ga.) Telegraph thus relcrs to a decision made
by tho Supreme Court, how in session in that
city: “A case of some interest to the ladies
was decided on Friday morning last. Savage,
of Dougherty county, died, leaving a will,
which devised his property to his wife, but in
tho event of her marriage, to go to her children,
thus cutting off the wife, without a shilling.—
The Court-held that a man had a right to leave
his property to his wife during her. widowhood,
andcut hcr-off; i( she ..married —and that the
Savage will was legal.”
“OUR COUNTRY —MAY IT ALWAYS BB* RIGnT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.”
v . v*
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 1858.
Next to Hint of umbrellas, the ownership of
books is perhaps tho least respected. Hence
tho philosophical though rude remark, that
tools lend books, and wise men borrow, thorn.
Tho value of a ‘good thing’ depends on him
who utters it. Thojokb of tho host is certain
to bo laughed at , that of a poor relation is
scarce!,' even listened to. My son; if thou wilt
wear tight boots, there are throe bad tiiings thou
wilt inevitably suffer ; namely, a .bad corn, a
bad gait, and a bad temper.; When a man is so
reduced that ho has to pawn Ins ring, it may bo
safely inferred that ho is hardly worth a rap. It
is tho last air on tho hurdy-gurdy that gets tho
player's head, broken. How fleeting in the
holydays is a leg of mutton! Still, a; prelude of
hard dumpling is an antidote to appetite. It is
said that necessity knows no law. This accounts
for people making such a virtue of necessity.
My son, when haokraon take the pledge, and
the police will hpt fake supper when on culina
ry duty ; when ‘genuine Havanas',’ arc no lon
ger grown in Connecticuit, nor “real Suffolk
Sausages” chopped and stuffed ip Doglown;
when an omnibus half empty goes the same pace
us a full one ; when‘original’American farces
are no longer to be traced as adaptations from
the French, and “Shaksperian” circus clowns
make jokes that one can laugh at; -when the law
of private property extends to umbfellns, and a
case of conflscation.may be dealt with as a tiled;
when h laundress gives up taking sflnff, and ab
stains for four and twenty, hours from touching
anybody’s gin-bottle; when a bachelor in lodg
ings finds a shirt without a button’off and has
his shaving water broughtwithout ringing more
than twice for it; when the beef-eaters are all
of thcmconnrmed vegetarians,and ;ho alderman
will take a second plate of turtle. 'Then, 0 my
son, thou may’st chance find a wifeiwbowill not
object to travel without eight and twenty pack
ages, and who, will show herself posessed. Of
such angelic self-denial as even tqk refuse (liy
offer of a dress because she finds and confesses
that she doesn’t want it. All is vanity! I saw
an ashman stop .the other day to Ihqvo hisgmat
brushed!' ,
The groat excellence of theArhb’horscowing,
partly to the extreme and undoviating care of
the Bedouins to keep up the purity M the blood,
and partly to the, friendly and fapiiliaf treat
ment the animal receives in its master's font,
where'it is the pot ot his children.-and 'a watch
ful obsc.n er of all his domestic concerns. The
Bedouin’s mare (they never ride'Jiorses) dis
plays nll.tho sagacity and fidelity :of the dog.
She will never suffer'her, sleeping piaster to he
surprised by his foes without warning. It is,
therefore, no wonder that to ohtaiif Arab mares
by purchase is a matter of qxtrenjp difliculty.
The people of the desert themselves often give
as much as $l,OOO for a Celebrhted/inare, not to
be sold to strajigers; The sum of $2,500 has
often been given, which, considering the value
of money in Arabia and Syria, is enormous.
Bhrkhardt mentions a sheikh, who had a mare
of groat celebrity, for the half-shnrjb in the own
ership of which he paid $2000., This subdivis
ion of ownership is very curious. Sir John
Malcomb was informed that a property'in a
brood marc was sometimes divided/amongsl ten
or twelve Arabs. In’the desert, ajnafc-of lil-jh
breed is'soldom sold without the seller reserving
the half or two thirds of her. If->JP sells half,
the buyer takes the mare, and isf;bilged'to let
the seller, take the mare’s first fllWjr the buyer
must keep the filly and return tliefinare. li the
Arab; has ‘ sold put' one tjmfi off he imu e, the
purchaser takes her homo.hnf liuist givo the
seller the fillies pf two yjs.,-or eh* one of them
-and tbo maro- v ---' - ■ ;
The fillies of all subsequent years belong tV
the buyer, as well as all the male colts produced
on the first of any following year. It thus hap
pens the most of the Arab marcs are the joint
property of two or three persons, or oven a ha f
dozen, it the price of the mnro.be very high. A
mare.is sometimes sold on the remarkable con
dition, that all the booty obtained by-the man
who rides her, shall he shared between him and
the seller. —Ohio Farmer, ,
Tho following,“From a correspondent in a late
number of Harper, lolls where the best brandy
.comes from:
A few of us wore invited by tho proprietor of
one of our village stores to sample his brandy—
a small but choice supply Of winch onr mer
chants keep, for medical purposes only— —of
course! It was a prime article, and ouch one of
us gave'his word of recommendation, with an
emphatic smack of tho lips as we tasted—and
then fasted yet again. Jones, on hiding about
four fingers of it, quietly remarked..
“Well, this is decidedly better, brandy than
Lawrence keeps over the way, and yet ho says
his is twenty-live years old. Only half tbatage
is claimed for this—how is that to bo accounted
lor?” ...
“Why, you sod,” said the innocent clerk who
had waited on us, “Lawrence’s brandy was
made before they exactly know hew!”
. Of course we smiled again, for tho secret was
out, and we all knowhow prime .brandy could
bo made, and get to bo old in less than no time!
• A Tliong|itlcss Mother.
A poor Wretched female, religiously educat
ed, but. afterwards abandoned to sin, misery
and want, was struck with horror on hearing
her own child repeat, as soon as she could well
speak, some of the profane language which she
had learned herself. She trembled at the
thought that she was not only going, to hell
herselfi but loading her child thither. She in
stantly resolved that with tho first sixpence she
could procure, she would purchase Dr, Watts’
Divine songs, of which she had some recollec
tion, to teach her infant daughter! She did so,
and orutpening the book her eye caught tho fol
lowing striking verse: .
“Just as the tree cut down that fell r
To north or southward, there it lies:
So man departs to hearen or hell,
Fixed in tho state wherein he dies.”
upon which she became so much affected, that
she changed her whole course of conduct, and
gave a living example of good to her child.
An Eastern Legend.—There is in Affghan
isian, a country abounding in legends, one to
the effect that Satan entered into a compact
with the people, to teach them to cultivate the
earth and bring forth its fruits, the produce to
bo divided between them. The proposition bo
ing acceded to, the soil was prepared by the la
bor of the people. Satan then produced the
seed, which in due course of tjme. came up as
carrots, turnips, and other vegetables, the val
ue of which lies in the ground. When the lime
of division arrived, the ignorant people took that
which was above the surface. Discovering
their mistake, they complained loudly. Satan
heard their lamcntings with calm composure,
and then to soothe them, blandly promised that
it should be different the next year. Of a truth
it was. The people were to take all the produce
beneath the soil, and as Satan had this time
sowed wheat, barley, and such like grains, ho
obtained all the profit, and they were tricked
again, having nothing for their, share but use
less roots. .
Tbis.legend has a ,moral. Satan never sows
any seed in the human heart that brings forth
any fruit, byThe growth of which any but him
self is the gainer.
Random Reflections.
The Horses of AraUft.-.
Excellent Brandy.
,
L. jet
A lightning Rod Mini in n Fix. '
, At Cincinnati, the other day, Mr. T. Kings
ton, who puts up lightning rods, climbed to the
top of the spire of Si.' .'Paul’s Cathedral, two
hundred and thirty-five feet, where, having left
his ladder below be clung by his arms and legs,
fastened the foot of the, rod and attached' its'
point—quite a heavy piece of metal—securely as
be supposed, to the cross surmounting the stee
ple. Ho had just’completed this difficult and
dangerous task, watched by a number of per
sons in the street below, and while looking at
the work and cxpcrichccncing that satisfaction
which results from hazard passed and labor ac
complished, of a sudden, something heavy
struck him and made his brain reel until he
could hardly see. Instead of losing his hold at
once, as would seem to have been the natural
and inevitable result, ho clung with a power be
yond himself and a will supcrior to his own,
closer and instinctively to the spire. Tie knew
not what had occurred, and to his confused sen
ses it appeared that the steeple was tumbling :
that some strange cause was about to bring
thoyast structure to the ground.- .
Some forty seconds—an age- to him—must
have elapsed before he sufficiently collected his
scattered thoughts and subverted consciousness*
to know that the entire upper part of the rod
had fallen upon his head, causing the blood to
.trickle over his forehrad, and nearly blind him.
lie was in a dreadful perplexity and most dan
gerous position. lie feared, if he moved, ho
would go cleaving the air to a terrible death
upon the stony street below—and at the same
time he knew he could not,.in the disordered
stale Of his nerves, and his increasing freak -
ness, retain his grasp, more the . result of fate
than, fee’ing, much longer.- If he stirred' he
might fall; if ho remained he certainly would :
and so, determined to make" at least an effort
for his life, he put one foot very cautiously, then
his arms, and then moved the other foot; and
after half a minute of exertion, and the greatest
danger, he touched the topmost round of the
ladder, and in a few seconds more was inside of
the steeple and safe. ' ■
Then it snts.Miy. K’s great courage and
strength forsook him : Ins nerves and muscles
relaxed; ho.grcw sick unto deathhis knees
gave way his vision swam, and ho sank Upon
the platform motionless and-- insensible. lie
must .have lain there half an hour before ho
could rise and walk, and he- did not . recover
from the shock for more than a fortnight after
ward
The people gazing up at him from tile street
describe the scene as painful and exciting imho
extreme. When they observed the rod fall, a
thrill of horror ran through'their hearts, and
two women swooned away ; for they expected
to behold him the next moment dashed to piec
es at .their feet.
Buyer sny. Fail.
The great secret of success in life is never to
give up. If we were to leave a legacy to our
children, and had nothing better, wo should be
queath to them as their motto, vPcrscvere.”—.
More is lost than people suppose by want of
.well directed energy—wc,do not mean that en
ergy which comes by fits and starts, but a
ceaseless., untiring,tenacity of purpose, assisted
by .sound common sense in the affairs of life.—
Your weak-minded men, who give dp at the last
rebuff, are good for nothing. Great soiils only
achieve immortality by dint of untiring perse
verance. Look at Columbus: he was seven teen
years in procuring. (Tie*fleet whieh : discovorcd.’a
world-. See how Washington’toiied. year after
year, amidst constantly recurring disappoint
ment. laboring, too, under the want of money
and the suspicions of Congress ; but be perse
vered, and'our independence was achieved.—t
John J. Aster says it was more difficult to earn
bis first, thousand dollars than to amass all the
-rest of his twenty-four millions. He means, re
ally, that habits of enterprise, activity; and
perseverance which he found necessary to earn
ins first,thousand dollars, remained afterwards
with him as a liabit, and, assisted by capital,
easily achieved his enormous fortune. Most of
our rich inch have once been poor like .him. —
Do not despair, therefore. Let your watch
word he, “ Never Fail!” Rise superior to your
fortunes, and you will yet get rich. ’
CHAUACTEH 6f ran Age.—Were we required
to characterize this ago of ours by any single
epithet, we should bo tempted to call it, not an
heroical, devotional, philosophical, or moral.
ago, but above all others, the mechanical age.
It is thoage, of machinery, in every oiitward
and inward sense of that word : Iheage, which,
with its whole undivided might, forward, reach
es and practises the great art of adapting means
to ends. ' Nothing is now done directly, or by
hand : all.is by ruleaud calculated contrivance-
For the simplest operation some helps and ac
companiments, some cunning abbreviating pro
cess is in readiness. Our old modes of exci lion
are all discredited and thrown aside. .On eve
ry hand the living artlzan is driven from his
workshop to make room for a speedier inani,
mate.one. The shuttle drops.from (lie fingers
of the weaver, and fulls into iron lingers that
ply it faster. The sailor furls his sail and lays
down his oar, and bids a strong unwearied ser
vant, on various wings, bear him 'through the
waters! Men have crossed oceans by steam ;
the fire king has visited the fabulous east, and
the genius of the Cape, were there any Cnmoens
now to sing it, has again been alarmed, and with
far stranger thunders than Gama’s. There is
no end to machinery. Even the horse is stripp
ed of his harness and findsa tk’et firchorecyok
ed in his stead. We have an artist that hatch
es chickens by steam, tho yery brood-hen is to
be superseded ! For all earthly and for some
unearthly purpose, we have machines and me
chanic furtherances ; for mincing our cabbages
—for easting.us into magnetic sleep. . \Ve re
move mountains and make seas our smooth
'highway : nothing can resist us. We war.wiih
rude nature; and by our resistless engines
come off always victorious and loaded with
spoils.
What wonderful accessions have thus been
made, and are still making, to the physical
power of mankind ; how, much better fed, cloth
ed. lodged, and in all outward respects accom
modated, men now arc, or might be, by a giv
en quantity of labor, is a grateful reflection'
which forces itself on every one. What chan
ges, too,, this addition of power is introducing
into the social system, how wealth has more
arid more-increased, and at the same time gath
ered itself more and more into masses, strange
ly altering the old relations and increasing the
distance between the rich and the poor, will be
a question for political economists, and a much
more complex and important ono than any they
have yet engaged with. Our true deity is me
chanism. It has subdued external nature for
us, and wo think it.will do all other things—
Wc are giants in physical power; we arc Ti
tans, that strive, by heaping mountain, on
mountain, to conquer heaven also.
A “ Roval” Tvpo.—According fo an anci
ent usage in Prussia, all the princes of the roy.
al family must learn a trade. It is staled that
Prince Frederick William, just married to the
Princess Royal of England, learned the trade of
acomposilor in the priniingoflico of Mr. Ilauel,
at Berlin. ■
AT 52.00 PER ANNUM
Tlie Rulirig Propensity.
Success in the allotted or chosen walk 6f life
is the passion, the ruling propensity, in every
condition of society. And it is as potent in the
cotttgc ns in the mansion—the studio of the
author and artist as the office of the merchant
—the theatre of pleasure as the sanctuary of
prayer. It is, in short, the motive power that
’ creates and lipids together nations, strengthens
the bonds {bat maintain communities in sub,
jection to law aiid order, gives a stimulus to the
function of the brain, and imparts consistency
and usefulness to the natural selfishness of eve
ry human creature. It’ is the presiding genius
of labor in all its branches, and in both its ag
gregate and individual efforts tenaciously strives
to compel tfie phantoms that dazzle the imagi
nation to' give place to those realities which
tempt both body and soul to take some path or
another that will ultimately lead to the promis
ed land—the glittering, fruitful, and luscious
Canaan of our respective every day longings r-
This, in general terms, is the condition sym
bolised as prosperityand to the acquisition of
which, in all its varied forms, mankind apply I
themselves with marvelous devotion. '
Prudence.
The great end of prudence is to give cheerful
ness to those hours which splendor cannot gild,
and exclamation cannot exhilarate. Those soft
intervals of unbended amusement in which a
man shrinks to his natural dimensions, and
throws aside the ornaments or disguises which
he feels, in privacy, to be useless incumbrances,
and to lose all effect.when they become famil
iar.. To.be. happy at home is the ultimate re
suit of all ambition—the end to . which every
enterprise and labor.tends, and of which every
desire prompts the prosecution. It isindeedat
homo that every man must be known, by' those
whowouldmakc a just estimate either of his
virtue or felicity ; for smiles and embroidery
are alike occasional, and the mind is often dress
ed for show in painted honor and fictitious be
nevolence. , '
Wild Grapes of Canada.
Win. 11. Read, in the- Country Gentleman,
describes the fruit of a wild grape vine which
he found on the hanks of Chippewa creek, Can
ada, in 1855. The vine runs through and cot?
ers the entire tops of two medium sized elms,
about a century'old. The seed from which the
vino was produced, may have found its way
hither by birds, from some- Frenchman's gar
den. ' '
“Bunches very handsome, • symmetrical,
good size, compact, heavily shouldered ; berries
medium size : .skin Uiin, black, covered .with a
Jdoom ; flesh tender, melting, without pulpi-,
ness, foxincss or musty flavor, sweet and excel
lent.
Wood is strong, short-jointed, of a reddish
iron color: foliage very largo and thin, green on
both sides, having no hair or cotton, and un
mistakably showing no kin. to the fox.
Higher life.
Men arc so inelinctHo content'themselves wiih
what is commonest; the spirit and the sense so
easily grow dead to the impressions of the beau
tiful apd. the perfect—that every one should
study, by ill methods, to nourish.in his mind
the faculty, of feeling these things! Tor no
nian can bear to be entirely' deprived of such en
joyments ; it is only because they are not used
to taste of what isexcellcn t-that the generality'
of people lake delight in silly and insipid things,:
provided they are new. For this reason, one
ought, every'day at least, to read a good poem, 1
seen lino picture, and, if it were possible, to
speak a few reasonable words.— Goethe.
Money will not do nil.
The making of a fortune enables a inan to
cross the chasm which separate too widely the
gentle from ihc.handicraft classes. His money
just docs this, and no more. But the newly
enriched man stores the future with mortifica
tions for himself, who fancies his mere wealth
will gain him distinction in the circles of gentle
man. ■ The tone of good society is equality'.
Birth, wealth, beauty, talents, may constitute
eligibility for society ; but to be distinguished
in it. persons must be admired for admirable,
and liked lor agreeable qualities. ’
• . ' Tail's Marine,. .
■ Resting One's Bones.—“ Well, missus, I’s
agoin’ to leave you,"said Molly to her mistress,
whom she had.loved and grown fat with for a
good many years. -
Going to leave me,.Molly 1 why. where
are you going. ■?” . - ,
V Oh, Is going to get married ; I've worked
long enough, arid I’s going to rest my bones.”
Of course Mrs. Jones could make no objec
tion to this common and natural female frailty'.
So Molly went, and-nothing was heard of her
for a year or two, when she came back, poor
and emaciated, having lost her husband, and all
the rest of ills human nature is heir to having
fallen upon her. Mrs. Jones was much sur
prised to see her coming, and said—
“ Well, Molly, have you rested your bones - ?’’
“ Golly, missus—l’s rested my jaw-bones,
and dem’sail the bones I’ve rested.” ■.
Elegant Living.—An Irishman who lives
with a vegetarian, writes to a friend,-that if ho
wants to know what litigant living is, he must
come to llis house, where the breakfast consists
of nothing, and the supper of what was left at
breakfast.
Riches.— There is, too often, a burden of
care in getting them, a burden of anxiety in
keeping thefn. a burden of temptation in using
them, a burden of guilt in abusing them, a bur
den of sorrow in losing them, and a burden of
account at last to be given up for possessing and
cither improving or misimproving them.
IC7” Shakespeare has written that “ uneasy
lies the head that wears a crown.” Many a
poor fellow, that has survived a scalping by the
savages, has no doubt, thought that uneasicr
lies the head that dosen't wear a crown.
3Z7” A dull and voluminous European author
has published what ho calls “a tale of tho
Great Plague.” To our mind all .the ,talcs of
that author,arc talcs of a great plague.
O” A cotemporary wants to know whether
fat men are not more kind and compassionate
than lean ones., Perhaps they arc ns a general
rule, but all bowels are hot bowels of compas
sion. ' • . .
QZ7” “ How much did your pig weigh ?" said
a man to his neighbor. “ Oh. he didn’t weigh
so much as I expected, and I ncycr thought ho
would.”
itT" A country cotempornry boasts of hav
ing received a cap its a present. He omits to
say whether (he bells were attached to it..
(£7“ Tho young Indy who was “ lost in
thought” has been found. She was “ hugging
an idea,” looking very much like a man.
EE?” Cato said, <‘H6 had rather people should
inquire why ho had not a statue erected fohis
memory than why ho had.”' .
EE?” “I’m glad you"admire my dress,” said a
young lady to a gentleman af a fate'Washington
party j “it just cost seven dollars, and 1 .made
every stitch of it myself.” Upon which Mrs.
Brown, of the Agitator, remarks, —« When
young ladies pride themselves tipoh the cheap
ness of their attire, instead of its expensiveness
we shall have fewer broken fathers and hus
bands.” . , ' , .
EE?” The liioijt solemn' duties are generally
Iho'niosl readilj undertaken. How many a m&n
would iVitli pleasure bo your second in a duel,
or stand godfather to your child, yet would
strongly object to the loan ol alive dollar.bill.
NO. it
EE7” Why is a tight boot like a windmill? Be
cause it grind the corn. , '
EE?” To make writing impcrVioris to criticism
—write on bank notes. • •
EE?*- When is a wall like a fish ?—Wbeni it la
scaled.
IE?” What kind of bands do young ladies like
best ?—Ahem ! Why bus-bands, to bo sure.
K?” Serve oVcrr one as much as you can.ahd
compete with no one more than you must.
EC?” If a small boy is called a lu(f, is It proper
to call a big boy a ladder? ' ■■■ '"■
IE?” “You are a little bear,madam.” “Sir!”
“Beg pardon, madam—about the shoulders, 1
mean.” , ' ■ 1
EE?” What gentleman can, with any sense of
propriety, ask a fai woman to lean on his arm? ,
EE7” It is upwards ol eighteen centuries since.
Christian charity was first preached, audit is by
no means as yet understood—at all events it is"
not practised. Singular, ain’t it? Showing
that people do not believe one iota ofiVhat they
profess ! . , ’ . . ' - ■
KF” “It a ihao -lovo not bis brother than,whom
io hath seen, how can ho )ov> God- whom- 6a
lath not seen?” That’s a poser 1
Bong words, like long dresses; frequent
ly hide something wrong about the'understand
ing. . . . ■• - • ■ -■ ■'
DST The lady lyhobtirsl lief .sides' -laughing,
d them mended hi' her husband 1 corning into
io parlor with muddy hoots. ■ .•:»
K?” Piuich says that the-wheel of'fortune
must havo belonged originally to an omnibusy’.
for it is continually “taking up” and “putting
down” people.
“We should each 6f us,” said Orvilla. .
Dewy in a late lecture, inward char- J
actor for ourselves, and say—l must ho true to
myself.?’ *. - . ' ‘ ,"~
In no sense should We Consent to bo si
lucre echo'of another,'but keep in ihiiid what
self-respect and the numerous responsibilities
of life demand of us. One ot our own essayists
says—“ Hold oil to thyself]”'
[ES” All the grandeur of life is out of 1 sight—
all that appears is hut (lie effect.
DC?” Honesty ought to shine through and il
lustrate the whole sphere of our action.
DS?” It is nothing in our favor if we are hon
est because it is the “best pdlicy,” or because
it is respectable.
03?" Wo should bo holiest; because we are di
rected to bo so by tiie most lofty and undying,
principles. .
Qhy Good boys, (says. Dewey,) are plenty
enough, and wretched little specimens some of
them are, too; but downright manly andhonest
boys,—they are as scarce as men'.bf Bio samU
desirable qualifications'..
CC?” Hearts—little red tilings that men and
wtinicn play with fur money and lust,—the latter
falsely called love.' • . 1
03?” It has been discovered that bread canbo
manufactured out ol wo'od. Long, before this
discovery was made, all wood was known to
have grain in it.
EE?” What is contentment?—To sit in the house
and see other people stick ih'the' mud..
DP” On hearing Ike road that eighteen rams
were to be used in launching the Leviathan,Mrs.
Partington remarked that she believed a Jew
yolks of o.ven would do a great deal better than
rams. , ’■
S~P~ The mode of measuring livif elcpliajjfa 15...,
fa calculate flint twice flio'eiWiimferoiico of.the"
print of the fore-foot is cqiial to the height of
the beast. Insome parts of Africa they attain
iltb enormous height ot twelve feet. , The eafof
the:African elephant is nearly three fjjnes tho '
size of his Asiatic brother.
D 3?” Mr. Shipwin put us info a corner a few
evenings ago 'by asking what animal. Would
make the best wine. Wo gave it lip, and ho
immediately said, gr-a-a-a-pes (gray-apes.)
DP* He wild would acquire fame, must not
show himself alraid of censure. The dread of
censure is the death of genius.
03 s " Every man ought to have a wife. If a
man is happily married, his‘rib’ is worth all the
other hones in his bpdy.
UP” Bancroft says—“Whcnnien are greatly
in tho wrong, and especially when they have
embarked tilth - fortunes in their error, theywil
fully resist light.” " ‘ ,
DP” If tho world' seems not the hetfer to ms,
guess it might seem ns well to quit.
. Dp” Love is fed upon the lightest pastry—
friendship upon solid beef. ' . .
pP“ It is suggested that (lie question, «Afny
a man’ marry his wife’s sister ?” is oho which
may.be etfeelmilly answered by the sister her
self, when it is popped by .the widower.
CP* A weak mind sihks alike under prosper
ity and under adversity. A strong and -decp
mind has two highest tides j when the,moon,is
at the full, and when there is no moon.
DP” A dandyism—A slice of ham is how un
derstood as“ an elegant extract froni Bacon !”
Only used in polite circles. ‘ .
02?” Swift declared that he was too proud to
bo vain. The distinctiunis a .nice one. ,
UP” Beauty is only skin deep. Vel, it looks
Irst-rato as tar as it goes. • ,
DP” A simple reason as Punch hath it “Tho
fastest ship ever built is the Leviathan.' - . And
why? Bdcancsj.inasmuch ns they' could not
novo tier, she must necessarily be the iastest.”
tty” When does'mortification ensue 7- Who’n
■on pop tho question and are answered 'No.’’ ’,
tty Kansas is now a proriiinent missionary
field, and it is said that tho Methodists, have
succeeded iq erecting tho first church in Le
compton.
tty Ought a new watch With a second hands
lo be called a second hand watch ?
,[ty He is properly a ‘good’ man who speaks
well of his neighbors, loves his wife, and pays
for Ins newspaper j particularly the latter—tho
two preceding being only secondary virtues.
tty A celestial conundrum goelh it thus,—
“Why is wit like a Chinese, lady’s foot 7 Be
cause brevity is (he solo of it.”
tty The more a woman’s waist is shaped like
an hour-glass, the more it shows ns that lief
sands of life are running out.’
(iy Dr. Johnston wisely said-“He who waits
to do a great deal of good at once, will never do
is only true, however,.wherer
useless procrastination is the order,of the day. ,
tty It is said that there oiro 4,000 just-asses,
cf flic peace in Massachusetts. What lots off
thistle-pickings it moat take toTood them all!
tty If you wish your enemy never to know
your secret, never divulge It to your friend. .
(jy Says Dlch to Joe, Did you attend, churqb
yesterday?” ■ • - - ~ , , .
“I was confined To my room,” was the reply.
“Ah, yon had theitoom-atlsm, then)”-said
Dick.
fly ‘Doctor, ’■ salda hypocondriao to hisphv
sioian, <1 can neithersit down,lie down.or stand
up! What shall I do?” • .
‘Go instantly and hang yourself,’ was the reply.
; anb (Biik
» i- -1