craIME IS 7130
U0VY.115321)&8
-.- .
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1845
Tax Tinter.—We perceive that this subject is again
b eg i nn ing to agitate the public mind—and, as the com
mencement of the next Congress is near at - hand, some •
of the strenuous advocates of a " high protective" policy,
exhibit a feverish anxiety under the fear that the friends
of" equal protection to all elastic? are about to carry
t heir principles into practice by reducing the tariff to the
proper revenue standard. Believing that every thing
ca 3 this subject, which affords practical illustration, and
b r ings the subject in a common sense view before our
readers, will be read with interest, we transfer to our
columns, the following plain remarks, made by the
Philadelphia Ledger in an article headed Duty on Wool :
" For many years past, the woolen manufacturers of
New England have urged that the ywere the champi
ons of the apicultural interest, and that the duties
which they demanded on foreign cloths, and conse
quent bounties on their own, would promote the agri
cultural interest, in the production of American wool.
But when the representatives of the manufacturing
interest niched practical details in Congress, in the con
struction of tariffs, they invariably contended for duties
and discriminations on wool that would afford little or
no protection to the American'. farmer; and, on these
su bjects, they always - fought pitched battles witli the ag
nealtural representatives. These agricultural represen
tatives were obliged to exercise all their vigilance and in
genuity, to obtain a tariff that would preUnt the mer
cantile manufacturers from surreptitiously introducing
fine foreign wool without cleaning; another the nur
ture of very fine and very coarse wools in the same bag,
for the purpose of introducing.the whole ea coarse wool,
or as a mixture upon a low average. But most of these
tricks were defeated by the sagacity of the agricultural
representatives ; and during the debates upon the tariff
of 184 come of them were defeated by the represents
tires from Vermont; the State which produces more fine
wool than any two others.
But all these safeguards for the American producers of
wool will avail little, under the patriotic devices of these
mercantile manufacturers. They know a trick worth
two of any undertaken by the fatmers in self-defence. A
few gears age, South America furnished abundance cf
very coarse wool, which, being collected from the native
owner, by American Merchants at Buenos Ayres and
Monte Video, was imported in a very unclean condition.
But within a few years, the "Yankees," the shrewd
mercantile manufaturers of poston, have sent large Mina
ben of merino rams to South America for the purpose of
improving the wool of the native sheep. They have
bought immense tracts of land on the Pampas or plains,
fir nothing, covered them with native sheep, bought
for nothing, mixed them with merinoes from the Uni
ted States, and hired Gauchos, or South America Indi
ana and Creoles, for next to nothing, to take all requisite
CM of them. One merchant of Boston has sent there,
within• a few years, more than a thousand merino rams,
and is now the ostensible owner of a million of sheep,
feeding through the whole year on the Pampas. We
know not how far the " merchant princes" of the manne
factoring interest, " Our First Men," are concerned in
the ownership of these flocks ; but we take for granted
that a speculation. so profitable would _not escape their
shrewdness. The Pampas can support merino as well
as other sheep, and therefore produce fine, as well as
coarse wool; and Yankee ingenuity will, indeed has,
invented machinery for cleaning this wool from burs and all
Alter foreign substances. And what willfine wool, thus
produced, cost the manufacturing owners landed in Bos
m, Probably less than six centsfor the pound. And the
lay upon this, according to the agricultural tariff of
. '.;12, is 35 per eentum ; and this, upon six cents, will
•-• two cents, one mill; and thus the this South Ameri
ii wool, produced by those farmers, the manufacturers
•Z Boston, will cost them, landed at their store-hottsm,
Silt cents one mill per pound
Can American farmers raise wool for 8 cents, per
Nand! No. Then where is the protection afforded by
the agricultural tariff of 1842 It is precisely like the
protection afforded to the farmer by the same tariff, in
the duties on linseed and linseed oil ; that on • the first
being six cents per bushel, and that on the second twen
iy-five cents per gallon ; an arrangement under which
all the flaxseed a imported, because the American fann
er cannot raise it cheap enough, while he must pay a
tax of twenty•five cents or about thirty-three per cent, on
every, gallon of oil fur painting his house. And while
he raising of wool will soon be transferred from the
American farmer to the " merchant prince" manufactu
rer, opeteoing through pauper labor in South America,
the fariml r,,u,,t pay a heavy j;ounty on his clothing, for
brneflt 'hue " merchant Prince" manufacturer. And
L " ,t hdprctect i iin to agriculture ! Now we are very
wan g to 4.e fine wool raised in South America for
;Ire or or cents, or one cent, or nothing, and wrought
Into American cloths. But we are utterly unwilling to
see the farmer taxed for cloth for the benefit ofthe manu
facturer, while this very manufacturer, under the same
e3itern oELlxation, raises the wool.- If one end of the
b2rlrain is taxed, let the other be equally so ; -and if the
w ool Coulee in free, so let the cloth. One pretence of
these manufacturers, in calling for high duties, is the
protection of American against foreign agriculture and
leer. Yet whenever they can promote their own prof
't• theY quite forget both. Let them dismiss this can't
'Pqk oat boldly and honestly, and say what tliky really
ft.! Ind think, aye, and act upon every opportunity,
'het in competition with their own profit, they care
no t I,sixpence for American agriculture and labor. The
iroulen manufacturers of Boston prating about prolix-
Imo to the farmer, against foreign pauper labor, and
then rasing their wool with pauper labor, on the plains
of South America, at a cost that would depauperato the
American farmer ! Maw ! HOw long will American
Cullen; be duped by such dishonest pretences! '1
[For the Bradford Reporter.)
Thoughts for Young Men.—No.
A GOLD Misr..—lt was tke opinion of Plato, that
the mind of man by nature knoweth all things," and
that its acquisitions in knowledge are bnttbe recollection of
ideas obscured and conceided by the groatinesset his Ell.
oal nature An opinion somewhat similar has grown
, tit of the idealism, that owes its modern origin to Des
(•
:lulea Cousin a French philosopher, who evidently
4 1 !Noy idea s in common with the German School of
414 45, asserts that the mind has originally in itself all
THE 13RAI)F I R 1) RE
its future knowledge; given, however, in an otweure
synthesis, which may remain without development, as it
does in the peasant, or, if fully analyzed, display all the
mental richness of a Leibnitz, a LOcke, or a Bacon. I
take for granted that he refers to that portion of our .
knowledge, for the acquisition of which we depend upon
the exercise of our reasoning powers ; and with this
limitation, the idea is more defensible than the common
history of men would lead us to suppose.
Every young man, therefore, should regard hls capa
city for improvement in knowledge, and mental power,
as a Goan extra,within himself, of inexhaustible richness.
and which he has only to work with proper diligence, to
bring up treasures, compared to which. the wealth of
a Girard or an Astor, is but the glittering bauble of a
This leads me to remark the common error of suppo
sing that education is mainly a process of taking in, and
not rather a course of drawing out. The spider does
go abroad for the threads of her web : she spins them
from within. - The rude material, shomsy indeed take
up, in part, in the shape of food ;. and so in education
something musk be received from without : but the
chief work in our mental improvement, is the spinning,
or mining process, which developes our stores, and, in
the very act of developinent, increases them, as no at
tempt at mere filling up ever can.
But what is the process of spinning or mining I which
ever we may term it. The most considerable part, it
seems to me, is giving expression to our ideas, setting
them forth so as distinctly so array them in the ap- .
proved methods of speech. This may be done in eon•
venation, by teaching, and by the use of the pen.
Of this latter mode, I have spoken in a former essay.
The rule is, take any subject that seems interesting, and
pen the first thought that occurs. This will most likely
produce a second thought, and the-second a third,till the
mind becomes excited, and thoughts appear in swarms,
almost without our bidding. This may not occur at a
first or second attempt: but iii-many cases would be the
certain result at actually_ expressing what we already
know.
will any render abolish the phrase I can't from his
vocabulary, and TUT?
Tovranda, Oct. 24, 1845
" It's march of ruin is ever onward! It
reaches abroad to others—invades the family
and social circle—and spreads woe and sorrow
on all around. It cuts down youth, in its
strength, and age in its weakness. It breaks
the father's heart—bereaves the doting mother ;
extinguishes natural affectionerasea,Conjugal
love—blots Out filial attachment—blights pa
rental hope, and brings down mourning age
"in sorrow to the grave." It produces weak
ness. not itrength—sickness, not health—
death, not life. It makes wives widows ;
children orphans ; fathers fiends—and all
of them paupers and beggars. It hails fever—
feeds rheumatism—nurses gout—welcomes
epidemics—invites cholera—imparts pestilence
and embraces consumption. It covers the
land with idleness 'and poverty, disease and
crime. It fills your jails, supplies your alms
houses, and demands your asylums. It en
genders ,controversies—fosters quarrels—and
cheris'hes riots. It contemns laws, spurns or
der and loves mobs. It crowds your peniten
tiaries, and furnishes the victims for your
scaffolds. It is the life-blood of the gambler—
the aliment of the counterfeiter—the prop of
the highwayman, and the support of the mid.
night incendiary. It countenances the liar.
respects the thief, andesteems the blasphemer.
It violates obligations, reverences fraud, and
honors infamy. It defames benevolence, hates
love, scorns virtue, and slanders innocence.—
It incites the father to butcher his of
the child to raise theiparricidal axe. It
burns up man—consumes women—detests
life—curses God, and despises Heaven. It
suborns witnesses, nurses perjury, defiles the
jury -box, and stains the judicial ermine.• It
bribes votes, disqualifies voters, corrupts elec
tions, pollutes our institutions,.and endangers
our government. It degrades the citizens, de
bases the legislature, dishonors the statesman,
and disarms the patriot. It brings shame, not
honor; terror, not safety ; despair, not hope ;
misery, not happiness. And now, as with the
malevolence of a fiend, it calmly survey its
frighful devastations, and insatiate with havoc,
it poisons felicity, peace. ruins morals,
slays reputation , blights confidence and wipes
out national honor—then curses the world, and
laughs at its ruin."
THE HEAVEN ON TILE BIBLE.—It is not suffi
ciently adverted to, that the happiness of Hea
ven lies simply and essentially in the well go
ing machinery of a well-goingconditioned soul ;
and that according to its measure, it is the
same in kind with the happiness of God, who
heed forever in bliss ineffable, because he is
unchangeable in being, good and uprightand
holy. There may be audible music in-hea
ven ; but its chief delights will be in the music
of a well-poised affection, and in principles in
full and consenting harmony with the laws of
eternal rectitude. There may be visions of
loveliness there; but it will be the loveliness
of virtue, as seen directly in God, and as re
flected back,ag,ain in family likeness from all
his children). It will be this that shall give its
purest and sweetest transport to the soul. In
a word, the main reward of paradise is spiritu
al joy ; and that springs at once from the love
and the possession of spiritual excellence. It
is such a joy as sin extinguishes on the mo
ment of its entering the soul : and such a joy
:mis again restored to the soul. and irimediate•
ly on its being restored to righteousness.
DIVISION OF Lanon.—A certain preacher
who wad holding forth to a somewhatisvearied
congregation, " lifted up his eyes" to the gal.
lerv, and beheld his son pelting the people
wth chestnuts. The Domine was about to ad- .
minister to him, a sharp and stringent repri
mand for his flagrant act of impiety , and disre
spect, but the youth anticipating him, bawled
out; at the top of his voice t •
" You mind your preaching, daddy, and PM
keep them awake !"
The scene that ensued may be safely left to
the imagination. '
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. S. GOODRICH & SON.
C. B.A
Intemperance,.
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION 'EOM ANY QUARTER."
Time's Changes.
IT WINTHROP MACRWOUTR PHARR
I saw her once—so freshly fair,
That like a blossom just unfolding,
She opened in Life's cloudless air;
And Nature joyed to view its moulding:
Her smile it haunts my memory yet—
Her cheek's fine hue divinely glowing—
Her rosebud mouth—her eyes of jet—
Around, on all their light bestowing:
Oh ! who could look on such a form,
So nobly free, so softly tender,
And darkty dream that earthly storm
Should dim such sweet, delicious splendor !
For in her mien, and in her face,
And in her yomig steps fairy lightness,
Nought could the raptured guar trace
But beauty's glow, and pleasure's brightness.
I saw her twice—an altered charm—
But still of magic, richest, rarest,
Than girlhood's talisman less warm,
Though yet of earthly sights the fairest
Upon her breast she held a child,
The very image of its mother;
Which ever to her smiling smiled—
They seemed to live but in each other :
But matron cares, or lurking wo,
Her thoughtless, sinless look bad banished,
And from her cheek the roseate glow
Of girlhood's balmy morn had vanished ;
Within her eyes, upon her brow,
Lay something softer, fonder, deeper,
•
As if in dreams some visioned wo
Had broke the Elysium of the sleeper.
I saw her thrice—Fate's dark deem
In widow's garments had arrayed her,
Yet beautiful she seemed to be,
As even my reveries portrayed her;
The glow, the glance had passed away,
The sunshine and the sparkling glitter ;
Still, though I noted pale decay,
The retrospect was acutely bitter ;
Or, in their place a calmness dwelt,
Serene, subduing, soothing, holy;
In feeling which, the bosom felt
That every louditr mirth is folly—
A pensivenew, which is not grief,
stillness--es of sunset streaming-3
A fairy glow on flower and leaf,
Till earth looks like a landscape dreaming.
A last time—and unmoved she lay,
Beyond Life's dim, uncertain river,
A glorious mould of fading clay,
From whence the spark had fled forever !
I gazed—my breast was like to burst— •
And as I thought of years departed,
The years wherein I saw her first,
When she; a girl, was tender-hearted—
And, when I mused on later days,
As moved she in her matron duty,
A happy mother, in the blaze
'Of ripened hope, and sunny beauty.—
I felt a chill, I turned aside—
Bleak Desolation's cloud came o'er me,
And Being seemed a troubled tide,
Whose wrecks in darkness swam before me!
Napoleon as Lawgiver of Poland.
After the peace of Tilsit, Napoleon, who
could scarcely wait for its termination, has
tened to show himself again to his people as a
conqueror, and travelled from Poland to Dres
den without making any stoppage on the road.
He had been convinced that the Poles, after
the many promises made to them, and after
the many and , great sacrifices, were not pleas
ed with his conversion of their country into
the Duchy of Warsaw. With the view now
of giving us a suitable constitution, lie convok
ed the government commission which was to
promulgate it ; or rather, probably in conse
quence of some error, he notified his minister,
resident at Warsaw, that Stanislaus Potozki,
and myself (Wybizki) should immediately join
him at Dresden. The dissatisfaction that this
occasioned to my colleagues was not disguised
from me; and I impressed on Potozki that the
entire commission ought to be assembled for
an affair of such importance. I explained,
however, to the president Malachowski. that
Napoleon could only have summoned two of
us through some misconception, and because
we were best known to him.
It was at last decided, that we should un
dertake this political journey in a body; and
I set every engine , in motion, in order to tip.
pear before Napoleon with a plan for the con
stitution. I must, however, admit, that there
was but little unison or disposition to work
among us. The venerable Malachowski, as
the marshal of our once famous diet, wishrd to
address Napoleon, praying (or the restoration
of the constitution of the 3d of May, 1791. I
strongly argued that this constitution was no
longer adapted to the spirit of the passing age.
that they must now admit the entire nation to
representation, and that serfage must be entire
ly abolished; nothing of which was provided
fur in the constitution of the 3d of May, be
cause the nation at that time still clung too
&web to its ancient ideas. 1 exerted myself
greatly in proposing the leading principles of
the work that had devolved on us, and Potozki
supported me throughout; but unluckily, he
fell ill, and I was at length obliged • to 'rouse
him forcibly from his bed, and bring him with
me to Dresden. Our colleagues had already
preceded us; and I arrived late at Dresden. as
I was obliged to 'travel quietly aria carefully
with my invalid. Napoleon, who had been
some time in a state of impatience, ordered us
immediately to appear before hiM. The va
rious articles for the constitution, which, as I
have before tiSid. I had, with Potozki, Propos
ed at Warsaw, were again discussed on our
way to the audience, and additions were made
to them. Although we were • now about to
appear before the emperor. our colleagues had
not yet arrived at unanimity of _opinion.—
Bat when did union ever exist in Poland!
We arrived 'al the palace: Napoleon had
Potozki'and myself only summoned before
him, and immediately on our entrance, com
menced upbraiding us for the lateness of our ar ,
rival. In the presence of the then master of
the world, much tact, and more
: patience,
were . necessary. Having listened to his re=
preaches, we endeavored to begin a low words
expressive of our thanks to him for granting us
a constitution, when he continued—" I know
that the Poles are discontented, because they
only possess - the Duchy of Warsaw ; but I
cannot compromise the interests of France on
your account." We again endeavored to ex
press our gratitude, in the name of the bation.
and Napoleon seized his hat, and compressing
it between his hands, said—" Thus all will be
crushed some day." Upon this he asked us
if we had brought with us any-plan for a con
stitution. Potozki, thereupon, began to read
out what we had drawn in brief; but Napoleon
interrupted him, "In these days you require
antither—a representative constitution." lie
said ; and ordered the attendance of the Duke
of &man°, for the purpose of dictating one to
him. We here ventured to announce to him,
that the president and other members of the
government commission were waiting in the
ante-chamber. He allowed them to enter, and
received them with all the severest reproaches
on their disunion, disposition to anarchy, &c.,
and terminated by saying—. I will abolish
serfage among you, and establish a representa
tive government, under the sceptre of the King
of Saxony and his dynasty."
Napoleon then began to dictate the consti
tution which, as is historically known, he pro
mulgated to the Duchy of Warsaw. on the
22d of July, 1807. He spoke so rapidly,
while walking up and down the room, that the
Duke of Bassani), who was almost obliged to
write upon his knees, had the greatest difficul
ty to follow him. He asked us from time to
time if we were satisfied, and was certain to
receive answers according to his will.
In an hour the work was completed; but it
was still in the rough, having been accomplish
ed, as it were, during a walk. Napoleon
gave the final' arrangement of 'the constitution
over to the Duke of Bassano, who, with our
selves made his bow, and retired without say
ing a word.
What an impression did this hour make on
me t For so many hundred years had we been
without a settled government, when the last
diet, after four years duration brought a sickly
constitution to light; Napoleon had composed
one that was well adapted to our nation, and to•
its actual circumstances in an hour.
.We returned'into the audience chamber, and
were presented to the King of Saiony as our
Duke. Even here Napoleon did not fail to
use the bitterest reproaches against us. He
went so far as to threaten to withdraw. the
constitution the moment that we should return
to our former habits. Thus we were obliged
to expiate our errors, or rather those of our
forefathers.
We had on this occasion, an instance of the
respectful awe which the emperor inspired.—
While he was dictating, a chamberlain an
nounced the King of Westphalia. Let him
wait." exclaimed Napoleon. The King of
Saxony was not less respectful to him than
ourselves, and. as we afterwards took our leave,
the emperor said—•• I know that the King of
Saxony is no sovereign for you ; he is no sol
dier, but you have yourselves chosen him at
your diet. "
The high Potatoe.
The following facts, communicated by the
Rev. Ezekiel Rich, late of Troy, Hew Hamp
shire, to the Genesee Farmer, very justly and
briefly sets forth thevalue and virtues of the
Irish Potatoe, a vegetable for which there is
none other that could be substituted :
" For recommendation of this root and en
couragement in its cultivation, I will now
state some of its most observable qualities.
1; It does not too highly excite the human
appetite, and thus render it, like many , other
things, out of due proportion with the powers
of digestion. This is indeed a grand affair in
the province of temperance and health. Even
the best varieties ate not liable to be eaten to
excess.
2. There is probably no kind of food that
has a more just and healthful proportion of bulk
and nutriment. Its soluble and nutritious mat
ter is said to be 25 per cent; whereas that of
barley is 83. wheat 85, rice 90, beans and peas
from 89 to 93. This fact renders it easy of
digestion, and unlikely to surcharge the sys
tem and produce dyspepsia.
3. 'f he potatoe, like milk contains just such
a proportion of adueous substance combined
with its nutriment, that it is, for both' an and
beast, food and drink. This is a great con
venience.
4. It is very easy grown and cooked, of
course it is a very cheap article of food.—
Hence it goes far towards supporting a dense
population, and it is a very great blessing to
the poor,
5. It does not exhaust the soil like most
other - vegetables, especially oats • and turnips,
and leaves it in good state for the succeeding
crop.
6. New varieties are the best, are easily
obtained from the top ball seeds; taking how
ever, about three years to bring them to ma•
turity.
7. It is very easily prederved. whetherdried
like fruit, or not whether to its farina or starch,
or kept in its original state."
THE ELDEST PACIOUTEIL—The deportment
of the older children of die. family is of great
impoitance to the younger.—Their obedience
or insubordination operates throughout the
whole circle. Especially is the station of the
eldest daughter one of eminence. She drank
the first draught of the mother's love. She
usually enjoys much of her counsel and com
panionship'. In her absence she is the natural
viceroy. Let the mother take double pains to
form her on a correct model; to make her
amiable, diligent, domestic. pious;.trusting
that the Otago of those virtues may leave im
pressions on the soft, waxen hearts of the
younger ones, to whom she may in the, provi;
dence of God, be called to fill the place of ma
ternal guide.
Do IVluit Is High Como glint flay.
The abdve is a translation of a motto rather
famous, but always commended to ne , by' itsl
position in the Alexandria Gazette, whose edi.
tor always followed his text, like a good I
preacher. We are now reminded of the max
im, and induced to press upon our readers. i
especially the young, by a circumstance that
recently occurred at Patterson, (N. J ) A
man named Cunningham. was charged with
murdering a man with whom he was, at the
time of the death, bathing. It was charged
that he had kept him beneath the water.
When the testimony of the Commonwealth
had been concluded, the Court decided that
there was no cause for trial, and, of course, the
prisoner was dismissed. After which Cun
ningham stated to the Court and Jury " that he.
was in the water wittr-Morris, and saw him
dive down, but did not.see him come up,—
"He said he was afraid of being suspected
of murdering him, and therefore hid his clothes
when he came out, and denied having been in
with hiin.".gla
The last sentence is that to which we would
draw attention. Cunningham was evidekly
innocent of the crime charged, but he wa s
man of little faith. He had no-confidence in
truth—none -in his own character. He knew
the world was prone -to censure. and with a
promptness which denoted an unbalanced !hind,
he told a lie—told it in word and deed. He
hid the clothes of the dead man, and then de
nied having been with him in the water. This
is the common subterfuge of guilt. " I heard
the voice in the garden, and I was afraid, for I
was naked;" or I know not; am I my brother's
keeper?" And wnen the falsehood is detected,
tt is most natural to infer a guilt, which the
falsehood was intended to conceal.
But Cunningham was not guilty of the mur
der. yot he told a lie. His unbalanced mind
oscilated, and finally settled to a falsehood ;
and inflicted upon himself the double terrors
of a detection of a lie, and, and the almost
consequent presumption of murder. The lie
was easily proved upon him, - and, consequent.
ly. the homicide is naturally inferred.
What is valuable in the teachings of this
trial, for all trials are teachings, is the enforce
ment of the importance of truth at all times,
and especially. on circumstances, where there
is a presumption or a suspicion of crime, for
the lie, hastily formed and uttered, cannot, (and
it ought to be so considered,) stand the close
scrutiny to which the crime will render it liable;
and it will, therefore, serve rather to expose
than to hide the guilt. The blanket that is
drawn up to conceal the face, will probably
leave bare the feet, and the exposure of either
extremity will afford evidence of personal
presence.
Had Cunningham promptly and candidly
explained to the Coroner or others, who first
saw the body of the drowned person. all that
he confessed to the Judge and jury, he would
probably have been considered a candid man.
He yielded to his leers, and distrust, 'and told
a lie. Ile had, of course, never been taught
the whole importance of truth. He had not
practiced against adverse temptations the ut
terance of truth. His impulses were wrong;
his fears were greater than his principles, and
he fell. Few, indeed, suffer as much from a
lie that was not intended for their neighbor's
hurt, but none can tell what will be the result
of their attempt at false concealment; and none
may rightly complain of whatmay be regarded
as a severe punishment, when that punishment
is seen to be a natural and inevitable conse
quence of that fault.
, Parents will probably see, in -the circum
so me of Ctmniugharu's case, something to
awaken in the apprehensions for the fate of
those providentially entrusted to their care,
and they will apply a lesson to the young,
far more effective than any we can give, and
at which we only hint in these remarks,
which we cotiplutie by copying the following
lines :
"Face thine enemies—accusersr;
Scorn the prison, rack or rod, .
And if thou hut truth to utter,
Speak! end leave the rest to God."
U. S. Gazelle
SusemioN.—One thing you will learn fast
etiough l in the world, for it is potent in such
teaching—that is, to be suspicious. Oh, cast
from von forever the hateful lesson. Men do
not think how much of the innocence they are
laying down, when they assume a clothing
whose texture is guile. 'Beware of this mock
protection ; for you can hardly use it without
.practising deceit. Ido not ask you to trust
always—but always to think well of men until
you find them otherwise.. When you are
once deceived. either by an acted or a spoken
falsehood, trust that person no more.
I had once laid down to me as an axiom by
a very dear friend, (and I am.so satisfied of the
precept's truth as to make it a rule of my life,)
that persons rarely. suspect others - except of
things which they am capable of doing them
selves. Yes t these shadows of doubting are
generally flung from some had realities
You are looking at your own image when you
see so much vileness in your neighbor's face.
How much better might not we ourselves.be
come, if we used more largely to others that
blessed charity which thinketh no evil.
MEEKNESS'—This is so great a duty, flail
Christ makes it the distinguishing character of
his disciples. None is more likely , to become
possessed of it, than he who makes it , hie, bu
siness to consider its various excellencies.
Some even of the heathens were celebrated for
this virtue.' To possess it is to hare the mind
which was also in Christ Jesus. , It' prevents
the great evils produced by- sudden anger it
secures, discretion, and adorns the gospel;'
melts the offender. and wins more upon 'him
than all other means. To be'meelt ii; to be
like,Gud, and confers a greater honor then' the
greatest:victory.' It brings' peace and aatisfac:
lion tcrthe soul and the blessings . it e ntails are
Innumerable. These things rightly considered
would tend to promote this most amiable
virtue.
ONE
servant girl in the employ of .a family .in
Henry street., 01} entering the greenhouse ear
on-Monday morning, - discoveredawanirual
the like of which she had never seen hefote.—
On her approach it spranu,nmong.a : lot of
,pot
! plants. when down tumbl e ed'a lot_ or them on
the floor with a tremendous eras'''.
_MK
frightened to, deatlithe girl ran into t he
screamina and screeching, and oh Meeting her
mistress, said:
" 06, but may I never see gloiy, - if the
devil is n't in the grane house. Wirraasibru!
I'm kilt intirely, I am !,
.1-lowld me, ma'am,
011 faint. Och, but wont ye fan me
" Satan, did you say,"said the lady. '"What
was he like ?"
• ..'As like the devil .as Iwo pase, ma'am he
19. An' his horn—Lbut I'll faint."
-Is he black or white?" . .
lie's as red as Jimmy Dougherty. widow
Murphy's boy's hair. An' his tail is twict•the
length and bigness or Pat Flannigin's.cow.--
Och, wont nobode howld me ?"
The forces of the house mustered,.and on
entering the garden there was seen a tremen
dous large fox issuing from the green house,and
clearing the fence with a bound, he scoured
across lots towards the heights. He was pur
sued bnt not taken. He had killed a dozen
pet rabbits, several chickens. and played the
mischief with the plants. This isfihe second
one seen in our city within 'ten days..--If.
4merican.
SOMETHING SENSIBLE.=-There is -in Our
opinion, says the Washington Examiner,
good deal of the philosopher in the fellowivho
penned the _following article. He not only
takes the safe, but he also takes the right view
of his subject. However much we sometimes
may feel in the humor. to "give a knock down,"
we are all apt to condemn such a Bourse imour
reflecting moments. If yourneet with a drunk
or crazy man, and he should insult you, in
word or deed, his condition furnishes ample
apology. If a sober man in the moment of
his anger, should unjustly affront you, reason
the matter with him, and if he is s - gentleman
he will make the amende &wort:6k ; and if
he is not, von would do yourself no credit to
fight him. Besides, one looks so homely with
a " bunged eye" or a skinned facet and not
only that, but his feelings are equally as un
propitious as his appearance. The first we
have seen--the latter is a mere inference, as
we -have always possessed, enough of the
better part of valor " to avoid the experience.
We never could believe that our "little.hanns
were ever made to scratch another& eyes."- 1 -
So, peace seems to favor both sides.
PououTrtn.Nsss.—A writer in the &stop
Atlas relates the following: A Connecticut
lady, who was in the habit of always leaving
something or other behind her when she went
on a journey, was not long since promised by
her husband the present of a handsorMe shawl,
if on the occasion of her leaving home next
day, she carried avery thing she wanted with
her. The lady of conrse exerted herself to the
utmost, and the pair set off towards the place
of their destination. They had not proceeded
a mile, however, when the lady exhibited
symptoms of fidgetiveness, as usual, and on
her husband's inquiring as to the cause. she
exclaimed in a fright, " Goodness gracious !
Iforgot the baby." So
,the was,lost
for that time.
MATRIM , niIAL AGENCY..--Thotigh we do not
exactly follow in the footsteps of the French.
says the N, Y. Mirror, and establish
mania' agency offices," we understand that
the agency business, is nevertheless ciirriedon
to some extent in this city, by private individ.'
Inds. We learned last night of a genlleman
who has actually undertaken io•proetne - ene of
our heiress, who is said to be worth' $30,000.'
for a friend of Ins..and that a regular contract
has been signed, agreeing to give him 10 per
rent., on the amount of her fortune, upon tile— ,
performance of his part of the contract.. Ire
are informed that contracts of this kind are by
no means uncommon. Young ladies of fortune
are little aware of the secret iAterest some ,of
their friends take in promoting their mitrimo.,
vial prospects. . •
SMOKING.--W MIS, in one of his letters from
Paris, says every man smokes in that city . ;
and what is worse, the ladies'smoke very gen: "
ersltv ! I was sitting: by the side of a
English woman, yesterday, on a morning call', -
wt en she suddenly threaded her fair fingeW
through the profusion of blonde ethic - god'
her cheek, and said 3 " I hope my , hair is .not
disagreeable to you r". I looked amezement'at •
the possibliity, of course. Because," she
added, Hine been smokintz all the morning.
and It stays in one's hair so l"
A CoNrximext.---A lovely girl was bending
her hesd'over a rose tree which a laity Was
purchasing from an Irish basket 'woman - in
Convent Garden market, when the wonian
looking kindly at the young beauty, said—•• T
axes your pardon, young lady, but if its psi-%
ing to ye, I'd th - nk ye to keep'yer cheek away ,
frotn.that ere rose, nr you'll put the lady out
of conceit with the color of her flower I
noble,lord once asked
,s elergki
men 11l the bottom of his iable,'" why the'
goose, if there 'wart One, was always
next the parson . - said I can"r
give you no rete:on. for it.; but your- qnestiimi:
is somlll.l never see a goose agrin with
out•thiniting,of your lordship. ••- • • •
'Filmic is a steamboit out West by the name
of••J.adv of the;Lake." - Theother day she
Was sold to a wag who has changed her-name
to ..,rentaleof the Pond:' . t•
Cusneom..—Chaecoal when swallowe d,
no longei charcoal. It is Colbon-ate .
How can the stars be ..pure'snd heavenly,"
when they acimiliate.so constantly ?
=I
MT2iMILTII Alto
d. Good One.