The Potter journal and news item. (Coudersport, Pa.) 1872-1874, October 29, 1873, Image 1
T133 POTTER JOURNAL AND Jnu. S. Mann, F. Hamilton, Prol>rtetM '' IbT '"V7" £3 I T *T-T! Publisher VOLUME XXV, NO. 15. i a o POTTER JOURNAL ri ER. RL . B ,„HED SVMT WEDNESDAY AT •orniaisPOitT, PA. (jjfin Cor. M"in and Thi d.) 9 1.7* TUN YEAR IN UDYANCE. S. F. Hamilton, ><>• J" 1 - aUIU pMMier. l)Kl. M'ULAUV. M.1.., UX CTICIN mSICIXK AND Sl ID.KON. (()l I>K ItSPOKT, I'KNN A. C J. CURTIS, ttorncv at Uwwi District Attorney, (/OLDKIUT'OUI, PA., , , itsall Imsinrv* pret.iininu to his profession. Specialatteiitioi giventoeoßecMeenk ss ARTHUR B. IUSS JOHN S VIANN A SON, iilornrvs at Law ami Conveyancers, AU •, ,rtKi:sih>KT. l'.v., promptly atf-n.l- rt to. Arthur B. Mann. (,fun! lU"nratico Ajjiut Jt Notary i üblic. s. S. GREENMAN, ATTORNEY A.X LA'V, „,H. t .VI K ro*HTK*B STORK,) rnI.'DKRKFORT. FA. , UIKsTEB It. f. I.IKRABKK OLMSTED U LARRABTE, tITDHNEYs ANI C'oUNSELOI •> Al LAW v St. Court ; COUDERSPORT, PKNN A. SETH LEWIS, Kftrwy at l aw and Insurance Agent, I.KWISYILLE, PA. A. M REYNOLDS, D i „ | DENTIST, ,J F ,■ p; i I l\ oI.MSTRr. 111.0. K.) i COPPERS PORT, PA. Baker House, BKOWN A KKU.Y, Propr's. I iwrner of SVA'GNH ami EAST Streets, COUDKRSI'ORT, PENN'A. > ;?];ii*J ■1 -ry attention priiil t< the convenience aim 1 1 I eoinfort of quests. ■ kl frt.i.Mßistabling attaehHl. ■II ; 1 Lewisvilie Hotel, 1 Unicr of M IN and NORTH Streets, iLEWISVILLE, PA. If • v;, M.; ~11; i li.-d. JOHN B. PEARSALL, PAINTER, COUDERSPORT, PA. I f, Glazing, Graining, < ilcimlnlng, I --''.Mptiing, Paper-hanging, etc., 'lone with tiifttness, promptness ;uil ilUoHtch in all cases, ami satisfaction uuitr a ii t i e d . I'.MNTS f< r sale. 24211 It THOMPSON J.S.MANN THOMPSON & MANN. OKAI.KHS IN ■ (its Medicines, Rooks, Stationery, I pWSOOiIS PNNfS OILS WflLl PAPER. XL . I c,,r. if.n'n anil Third Sis.. a. . I COUDERSPORT, PA. S. F. HAMILTON, M AND JOB PRINTER - 1 1 ' rn<r Main and Third.) I C, H DEUSPORT, PA. 1 D J. CROWELL, I •• -H. Ball Jointer & B;ltin;> Machine, B MAHOXIXO, Cameron co.. Pa. ■ ■ ' lIDK < 't'TSffIXGLK MA L'HIXE • . ' H 1 * ac^*Qes HD( * cu *' ril * Custom Work 1 -chn Srcm, Pmifte. SI rti. >r ; 'l I decorative & Jrfsro ' .Ai! A INTER,' ■-JUDERSPORT, PA. i !V,N< ' ;i n,l IA| kh HANGING done H 11 Uea tness and disiKiteli. "-ion ifuaranteetl. ®° fi ■ " V Iit,IJSK " m Fl to. |,. RslAr I 1 hft FACTORY. ii'- I DKRSI'OIJT. PENN'A. , | ■' ■ tr . ; Hla.'ksm!ttilii|r, ■ i'-wrl" : . "'"'aa ami •luralilllty. ct.nriT^s iE I, C. BREUNLE. ■ '(! i vv °RIU ■ I>ERsI'QUT, PA. rTir^ [ 1 ' lh 'iiißt,],.'. a:,,i workiiiauatiip, on • #? ut lv r 'p. I **• Ifii K I |i\'' r Jy' l at theofllec <i JOFR • twelve prompt 4^ittnrv. A Leeeon in History.—A D. 1900. It wai a summer evening, Old Mr. Smith had come From San Francisco, by balloon. Testis suburban home Where, by the shore of Klamath lake, His pleasure he was w uit to take. He saw his grandchild, Ct Ifaxine, While playing at crtniuet, Roil something largeand smooth and round To her brother. Henry Clay, And ask the young sport if he knew Where that Queer paiezoie grew. The old mail Smith stepped up and took The relic in his hand, And shook it till it rattled out A ball or two of sand. "'Tis some squaw Modoc's skull," quoth he, : "Who fell in tae great victory." "Now tell us what 'twas all alout," Young Henry Clay inquired ; While on her mallet Colfaxine Leaned with a look inspired, "Come tell us who the warriors were, And why they killed each other here." "It was the Yankees," said old Smith. ; "Who made the Modocs run, Because they coveted the lands The red men hunted on It's somewhat mixed, but all agree That 'twas a famous victory "Men. babes and women, fifty-tliree, Followed the Indian e.,ief; fine hundred times as many whites Brought Mr. Lo to grief: And every red was killed," s aid he, "In the great Modoc victory." "But what good came of it at last ?" Asked gentle Colfaxine; "Good ? Why. we got their land, you bet — The home you're living in; And many a heathen scaip won we lii that brave Christian victory. "Great praise our Colonel Killem gained, ; And eke our tlag I ween." "But did they read the bible then ?" Said pity ing Colfaxine. "Why, that 1 'annot say." quoth he, "But 'twas a glorious victory." [From the Philadelphia Pr ss ] Broad and Brown Thoughts. What is "a leaf"?— Ha. lxiv. d. Of all the seasons, autumn is per haps the least understood. In art it is rarely depicted correct Iy. and in j I religion it is fearfully obscured by j 1 morbid sentiiuentnlism. "Wr all do i fade as a leaf," is the great common place of the superficial and by them is made the text of lugubrious gar-, rtility, as false in statement as it is ! degrading in influence. Because na ture is not grace, it docs not follow ; that untruth in science can become j Until in theology. MODF.I. OF BEAUTY. —Scrutinized ! under a microscope, or gazed at in | the blucness of open sky, few objects are more charming than forest leaves. Simple in structure, graceful in ; shape, and rich in color, they form an exquisite veil between the ardent sun and coy earth, through the deli cate network of which flickering j lights and illuminated shadows give her homeliest features a wonderful fast illation. Whenever a green leaf trembles in the ocean of transparent air, there the spirit of beauty pre-' sides; and, like the olive leaf in the dove's bill of old, gives assurance of ! present security and prosjiective i peace. Where leaves are indigenous | and keep the feast of taberr.acles j with that music and poetry which are spontaneous in their growth, the sterner forces of natures are un known. ' Leaves have as much human inter-; est in their associations as of intrin- j sic beauty in their appearance; since upon them we depend for bowers f delight and beds of renown, wreaths for the brow of fame and chaplets for the toiub. The sight of them is i a soothing cordial through our mor t tal career, and a blessed symbol of what lies beyond; trees that grow j on either side of the river of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations, and under whose shade God shall wipe away all tears from i our eyes. EMBLF.M OF HUMANlTY.—Natural ists have done well in teaching us I | that a leaf is the type of a single per ! son, while the whole foliage of a tree j symbolizes a generation. \\ hen al j together stripped,standing bare in the wintry blast, the trunk and branches ! remain unharmed, so individuals j and entire generations die but the ; j race survives. The leaf is annual but the Dee perennial; and man is ! perishing, in regard to his phenomi-' • nal vesture, but mankind, as an im mortal entity, independent of the earth it for a season wears, is an ex i istence forever to endure. The trunk and branches of a tree grow from ' the outer and uppermost tips down ward, all the solid wood lieing formed solely by the leaf. Walking in w in ter amidst woooland giants, you l>e hold nothing but the majestic and useful monuments of Juried leaves. And so was it designed to be with COUDERSPORT, PA., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1873. • man. He should employ all his life in works intended to survive him and calculated to reflect honor at once on his dignity of endowment and nobility of toil. How Do LEAVES "FADE?"-— To this j question we need give especial atten tion, lest we misunderstand one of the most instructive and consoling lessons which God in nature gives. | SINGLY. —As each leaf is an indi j vidual organization, working out its I own life-growth by itself, so is it separate from all otners in its decay. The foliage of a landscape suffers no simultaneous stroke of death, nor does the multifarious vesture of any i one tree fade alike or at the same : time. SILENTLY. —AII the operations of nature are hidden. In every realm : secret things belong to God, because j they are not essential to our highest good; but things which arc revealed ito ourselves and our children are rendered profitable in proportion as ; with increased care they are scruti nized. This is better in the.end than . truth so transparent as to require no research. If a cloud of night veiled God's purpose from the Israelites at the Bed Sea, by a yet more H. ■avenly interposition the miracle of merey stood revealed in the suc ceeding dawn. In nature, as in grace, we arc not to wait for processes to be explained,but humbly and prompt ly accept results. Spring steals witli noiseless foot along the earth, and the bud expands into a full-blown i rose, with an unfolding as secret as it is charming. "The star of evening sparkles like a tear in the spot j where the sunset dies, but no one | marked its falling from the dewy eye ;of heaven." As with the glory, so with the decay of earthly things. A> fades the 1 at', so silently do we ail t fade. No awful handwriting appears on the wall, flashing out to us iu our rejoicing as to Belshazzar. "Mcne. raene, tekel, upharsin;" but the quiet message from every October bough admonishes, as to Hezekiali; ".Set ; thine house in order, for thou shall ! die and not live." SEPARATELY. —Leaves organize the tree that upbears them, while they yet further elevate themselves by sending all growth downwards. They constitute the great laboratory wherein, under the action of light and air, crude sap is transformed in to diversified substances essential to the health of the tree and the growth of valuable products for universal good. Not until fruit is produced and perfected—the final end of all | activities—is the leaf's occupation gone, and its gentle ministry being nfl longer needed it serenely drops off. Defoliation is generally attributed to a deposit of earthly matter at the base of the leaf, by which the pass age of sap into it is obstructed. It dies from want of food and is gener | ally expelled from its resting place by the nascent vigor of the new bud. It is by the aggregate work of sepa rate leaves that the entire structure is formed as well as the whole of its bearing crops. As the result ol this every season sees an increase of height, a new laj'er of wood and a larger or smaller produce of fruit. I Leaves in their very decay, impart i a richness to the soil which results ; in a new and vigorous growth the succeeding spring. We largely owe i the bright green of fresh leaves to ; those withered ones which some months hack lay unheeded about the | roots. They were not shed like an untimely product on the earth, but have been in reality converted to highest use, being made to utter their voice in another form to an other generation, even as the witlier ied leaves in the fabled island of the ' Hebrides were said to be changed in to singing-birds as soon as they had fallen to the ground. SUPERLBY. —Variety in unity is a | : prevading law throughout creation, j and is the most striking feature in j autumnal foliage. To the critical ol server, variety of tint enters into and variegates the most uniform tone of the vernal landscape. As summer supervenes this becomes more manifest, and, iu autumn, the sunset of the year appears most cap tivating. No two tiees xiiii it the same appearance. Each individual hidden until the ripening hour, throws out a witching charm to the | calm panoramic view and helps to form a commingled splendor which outblushes all the gorgeous banners of the most splendid Orient. This | is not death, as stupid sentimental ists pretend, but life at its height of power and promise. All noble vital ity bears a florid tone, not raw but j rich. No relationship is more inti mate and divine than that which ev- 1 er exists between the beauty of holi ness and the holiness of beauty; and this is best exemplified by the fading leaf at the culminating moment, when the brightest tints express the ripest life. Thus it is with a departing Chris tian. "Precious iu the sight of the i Lord is the death of his saints;" pre cious and also beautiful. They come to their last hour like the mellow fruit that gathers into itself the en tire life of the tree, all the dew and sunshine of summer; aud, giving up to heaven the glowing wealth ot priceless hues thence derived, at last bends and breaks the branch from which it hangs. Such an exchange of being is ut-' terly separate, at once its own glory and reward. Sadness is swallowed up ni victory. It is not death that destroys, but life pressing from a lower to a higher sphere; the pass ing shadow between faith and sight, hope and fruition, transeient and transparent as the las filmy cloud that veils for a moment the full splendors ot sunrise. SECURELY.—A leaf, however sym metrical its form, loveh its hue and exquisite its texture, transcending j all human inventions, is only organ ized dust. What you hold and the hand holding it, as material things, are a! ke subject to the doom; *'Dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt re turn. But the plastic life which substantiates, stands under, the tran sient material, to mould its delicate libers and etch its tender lines, is spiritual and knows no grave. '"The two-fold man Holds firmly to the natural, to leach The spiritual beyond it; Some call the ideal, letter called the i real." The falling of a leaf is preparation for a new life and is necessitated by it. It falls naturally only when that using from the root, has first perfec ted and then pushed it oil". Only the mortal portion goes down, the same that came up, and only to be succeeded by another exactly the same .without a particle lost to the universe. It is the law of vegetable existence that no specimen shall be diminished until a new one lias been fitted to take its place. Life, in fact never more abandons than the season ' of apparently universal death. An other year is hidden along the most j naked bough, every tiny bud ofj which carries the sure prophecy of; uninterrupted being in its bosom.! With the great A post le of analogous ' life each leaf may say, "1 die daily," that 1 may live eternally. Nature,; superabounding with vitality, is careless of her dead and for the rea i son that her robing of life is cease- j less, she never puts on mourning. The forest does not miss the fall-j ing leaf. So with ourselves. We| • lie, but others will step into our places as we superceded those that went before, and the world will go ; on. The branch cf society from | which we depart abates none of its productive power, but is allowed to unfold a lovelier hue and diffuse a healthier influence. The most bene ficent. law requires the individual to retire that the growing aggregate ( may advance. Thus the humblest leaves in the ever-growing forest of humanity are made to contribute even the ashes they once wore to j minister strength about the roots of i coming ages. Death in every place ' and form subserves the interests of life, and, though vicissitude is Un law of earth, thereby most perma nently is the blessedness of celestial Providence displayed. The tree, when most denuded of recent foliage, is least dead, because its roots arc in the soil, and not only full ot all its past lite, but just replen ish* p with new. It threw off the sere leaf to put on another and a love lier garment. Infinitely better con ditioned than plants of sublunary growth, oni life, emanating from the o - i Supreme Sun, and vitalized by all j its divine warmth, will dress itself in another garb. For "there is a natur al body and there is a spiritual body." And "we know that it our earth ly house of this tabernacle were • dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made by hands, eternally in the heavens." There is no ground for presumption nor oc j casion for despair, if it may be truly said of our condition: "Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in | God and when He who is your life shall appear, then shall ye also ap pear with Him in glory." Be true to yourself, and like inferior crea tures, honor your destiny. The lull ing leaf is Jehovah's honorable dis charge to a faithful servant whose work is well done. OUR BEST MEN FOR OFFICE. —To destroy the Republican party be-! cause a few dishonest men have crept into office through its power, I would be as wise as tin 1 killing of a healthy individual because a few boils trouble him. The party never was moie healthv than at present. The few officials that arc proven dishon est, as to the great body politic what the spots on the sun are to the blaz ing orb that gives us light and warmth. As long as the masses.of the people who compose the party are honestly inclined we have no fear of e party itself. Every Republi can convention which has met thus far lias placed itself on record as being determined to drive men from ollice who fail to practice economy and honesty in their public duties. We shall never free ourselves entire ly from the influence of bad men. They will creep into power in spite of the greatest care and watchful ness. We can, however, throw an increased protection around the pub lic service by a more thorough ex amination of the character of the men who present themselves for our support. A good citizen will gener ally make a good official. This is a simple rule which, if practiced in the j selection of candidates, will greatly protect the public interests. Inquire into the private character of the man who wants your vote, and if you find him honest, indusf rious, charitable, a good neighbor and a public-spirited citizen, you can safely give him your vote and support. You may run the risk, even then, of being cheated: but the chances will be so small that you can well afford the risk. But to ! expect to secure an honest official in the man who never pays his debts, who takes advantage of his neighbor, whose character is s k ained by intern-1 peranee or profanity, is to expect a ! | clear balance-sheet in the other j ! world without paying your printer's; | bills in this. Nominate your best men ; ! for office and the risk of finding dis- . honesty in high places will be exceed-; | ingly small.— Washington Jiepubiic. | " * m• Industrial Schools as Preventive of Crime. ; Among the noted men whom the! i Evangelical Alliance has called to! | this eountiy from the Old World is j ! Rev. Dr. Robin, of Paris. This old I ! gentleman has for years been engaged ! I in the work of establishing, promot- j ! inc: and pushing forward industrial I • I i schools in his native city as a means , |of preventing crime and training ! young people in the paths of indus-j try, virtue and morality, and on this subject he recently presented his views to the Alliance. Thej' are ofj great value. They are the result ofj long, patient and exhaustive thought! and study made eminently practical ; by vast experience in such a city as • Paris, where boys and girls are sub-! jected to varied and strong tempta jtions; where crime is decked with i flowers "and crooked paths rendered j ! alluring by countless attractions of a peculiarly tempting character. The Doctor's motto is: "It is better to prevent crime than punish it," better for the criminals, better for society, better in point of morals, better from j a financial standpoint, and hence his j attachment to industrial schools, which he contends are the l>est pre ventive of crime that can be intro duced and carried on by human agen -ley and under the fostering care of civil authorities. Dr. Robin ohidpa ilimiiii I'" whom education is necessary into four principal divisions. Those of the first class, belonging to rich families, are destined to receive a superior educa tion and to occupy a high place in society. Those of the second, the children of shopkeepers and small landholders avail themselves of the special instruction instituted for them, which excludes ordinarily clas sical teaching. The third class com prises the children f an and farm laborers, who receive only pri nt y instruction, more or less com plete. Then comes the fourth class of children, in whose welfare Dr. Robin is especially interested. This class consists of deserted children, vagrants and beggars, who are al lowed, on account of destitution or j the neglect of their parents, to grow i up in the most absolute ignorance, : both of elementary and professional ! instruction, a.id who thus live ex ! posed to all the temptations of want. '■ idleness and vice. As compulsory ; education docs not exist in France, ! the parents of these children cannot be compelled to send them to school, and yet Dr. Robin asserts il it is im possible to ignore the fact that it is imperatively necessary not to aban don to themselves and to t e sug gestion of destitution these children whom the absolute want of guidance or the pernicious influences with which they are sin ouiuled must in fallibly lead to vice and tlienee to crime and to prison. We must pro tect them against the misfortune of their birth, against the culpable in difference of their parents, were it but in tbe interest of social order. This mu be done by insuring to them the benefit of instruction, there by obviating the danger which they create for society. The question of which we are treating here is a ques tion at once of charity and of public security." Roys and girls should not be allowed to become vagabonds and thieves. Christianity ignores such an idea. The welfare of society, es ice'ally in a Republic, is also vi tally interwoven with the proper training of the rising generation. The choice must be made between a prison for matured offenders and a school for youths where they can be taught the difference between good and evil, between virtue and vice, be tween industry and idleness. 1 f those who need such instruction will not accept it, society must exercise the right of self-protection and enforce it by proper means. If a boy can be put in prison for stealing, he certain ly can be put in school to prevent him from committing such an of fence. As to the particular kind ufindus- J trial schools that should be cstab | lislied, three points are not disputed. The inmates should be divided into J classes so that merely refractory pu pils would not herd with more hard : ened offenders, ihe scholars should receive an education to lit them for the business walks of life and at the same time they should be taught : some trade by which they could earn | their livings and add to the wealth of the nation. Dr. Robin stated in J his address that in 1860 there were but forty industrial schools in Eng ! land, while in 1872 there were over j one hundred. At the same time the : idea had taken root in France and i produced the most satisfactory fruit. I n the opinion of Dr. Robin u a child's j education is not complete until he lias been made lit to provide for him self by learning a trade or business. | The apprentice school thus becomes j the complement of the primary ' school. The city of Paris has re j eently instituted an apprentice school land has thus began to make praeti- I cal the idea that general instruction ' must be completed by industrial I teaching. Various establishments, | similar in kind, exist already both in i Paris and in the departments known under the name of professional schools. The industrial school,found- j j ded for a special object, would unite ! the two classes of the establishments, ! i i. e., the primary and professional school, but with this special charac teristic that it would be designed ! for children who would not hope for j admittance to the apprentice school, i in accordance to the idea which led to its institution, is destii<jn for, and 1 --pM 1 1 I such children as have already received good pri mary instruction, and are thus pre pared to acquire general professional A- v 51.75 A YEAR i knowledge, which may qualify them . foi the position of lore ; n in the ; workshopsand for becoming— should circumstances favor them— masters jin their turn. The children admit i ted to the industrial schools have, on j the contrary, received only a very' j i per i t primary instruct and j often none at all. The greatest num- I Iter have passed the usual age of ad mission to primary schools, and j reached the age of learning a trade, j lh y must, therefore, have the means given them for making up for lost time and for acquiring the instruc -1011 of the school and that of the j vorkshop together.*' It is this double character of indus rial schools, combined with their correctional elements, which should recommend them to the people of all countries. It boys and girls could be taken trom the streets, from the arts and influences of vicious men and women, and given such training as will mould tlicin into useful mem bers of society, certainly that plan should be adopted. I'pon this dutv t here can be no difference of opinion. The Age. . . . -IC T'RMNU to a San Francisco newspaper M. Alfred I'arafs new method of manufacturing butter from I' esh fit is now in operation on a large scale in that city. The com pany manufacture butter out, of suet trom fresh beef, and assert that tiie article will in every respect equal that made of cream. The suet is tirst ground and thrown into a huge tank containing about one foot of water. The mass is next raised to blood heat, and after a half hour's stirring it is left to settle. The .scraps tall and the pure fat remains. 'I his is collected, wrapped in cloths and submitted to presses of tremen dous power. The olcine oozes through the cloth and is conveyed into another tub, where, after the ad dition ot a little milk and rennet, it is agitated in the ordinary ma/.-ner of cream to produce butter. FN a western State there was occa ; sion, in a suit before a justice, to re quire surety from two persons in lie half of plaintiff for cost of the prose j cation of the action, and it was agreed I l, y the plaintiff's two counsel that ! they should both sign themselves. I 1 he senior did so, and turning to his junior, whose reputation through j the country was that of a jolly, clev er, impecunious tellow, who never paid anything, remarked: "D., it is your turn. I), looked at the paper, and then in a quizzical way shook his head and remarked: "No; on the w hole 1 guess 1 won't dilute the security." TT EM ARK AJIL. KATMOSI' II EU E T lie atmosphere of northeastern Spain is transparent beyond parallel. Across the desolate sierras every crevice in the distant hills i> distinctly visible aad the shadows of the clouds fall in i clearest outlines upon the tawny des ! *'i't. far off, for miles, you can dis tinguish goats . dwindled into flics ! and soldiers dwarfed to pigmies, whose colored uniforms and burn ished arms ate perfetly distinct, and long trains of mules, with drivers in brigand-like costume, reduced to the sizeofachild's toy. Things in the dis [ tancc, so cle: ris the air. look ns : f cut by an engraver on a precious j stone. I was told'at Barcelona that, when General Savalis made his at tack upon Mataro, fifteen miles dis tant, the movements of his troops, the riding of his aids, the dispersion of his scouts, and every minute change during the charges upon the town were as distinctly visible as if the panorama had been at the feet of the spectators watching on the ca thedral tower. A CERTAIN lawyer had his portrait taken in his favorite attitude—stand ing with one hand in his pocket. His friends and clients all went to see it and everybody exclaimed, "Oh, how like! it's the very picture of him." An old farmer, only, dis sented. " 'Taint like ?" exclaimed everybody; ".lust show us where it ain't like." " 'Taint! no, 'taint!" responded the farmer. "Don't you see; he has got his hand in his own pocket; 'twould be as like again if he had it in ■' I