Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, June 24, 1846, Image 1

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    1L1103722 7116
cilOWA\ IM,ltle
[From the Erie Observer.]'
h There a God!
Is there a Godi
Look to yon firmament above,
Where worlds on worlds pour out,
And elk the planets there that move-re
Or ask thine bean whence springs the doubt;
Ask, and thine inmost soul Will say,
These are his works—and his alone--
All in that fair blue' Heav'n we we see.
Bear proof of Him. th' Eternal Una.
Is there a God?
Look• to the mighty deep bel.4
Where oceans 'mid deep caverns sweep;
Whence springs their mystic ebb and flow—
What power. commands the restless deep?
'Tts nature. Yes, but nature t 0..,
Proclaims In all—proelanus aloud—
Holds forth iu every shade we view,
The power of a ruling Gad.
Li there a God 1
Look to the green end fenile earth—
Look to each herb—each plait we see ;
And ark thy self what gave them birth,
The smallftt blade—the luthest tree
Thine heart will tell thee, if sincere--
Thine age bear winless of the proof—
That thou eased feel and see.r'n there
The will—the power of Him above.
Is there a Gall
Oh! doubt it not—where e'er we gaze,
µ • here e'er we roam—where e'er we be
There, there in all and ev'ry place,
Are myriad. pronfe, L•trd Gal, of Thee;
The eagle vo. JJJJJ g high to air,
The in.ect on the low•gre,n
The great, the rattail in every sphere--
All naturu'v work./ pr dam a God 1
Is there a Gal ?
Man, ask that which within thee dwells,
And wake. thy atoll to hope or fear;
That which thine evrry action feels,
And 4.1 h.sper* W (Moo bean and ear;
Or look.around, beneath, above ;
Look where thou wilt, thoult ever gee,
Iu all. in each. full proof enough.
0. hint who reigns eternally.
'yr.. the Cutatirt ue- &at. 1:11.....1
ituputated Parisi.iu Fact
In the env of Paris about three inimihs
awe. an Dr. kl was fehirlill4:g hnn,r at
lair limo and had just reached hie door, he
was surrounded by three masked nom. who
demanded his services I .r an operalion. aid
i.sted on his accumpsiit tut. thew without any
crre.iiiinv. The sireei was It 41 , 114411 111 , 11,..f
-b144.4. without Lll.ll-14:ter, allot re-
Cat Hee 441:15 —IIIS e 4 4-3 wrce diem
rmina4r l. and hr. w to .14.. 0441.1 • i 1TT1:1244.
Willell. Al a W 41.44 le 611.11, 1113 app.- 1',4114-44. .111 d
Ile lour acre 1411111,111.1441 Elf IV •11". A!.er
1n.411411.1e$ tide. a ord Aas
etiMangril he. overia ihr &elm' 411.1 111,
el. who spoke with cacti other in a ('reign
they arrivrd at a dw , diiiiy at whidi
mei; alighted, a d alter leading the d0c..0• iliro'
instal Apartments, heavily carpeted. thr ban
d.e,. was removed. when he bound in
chamber alone win, one of the ti fee straitgi-rs
lo w had sr zed hiin and conveyed'hint thither.
It Was a wan of tall stature, of an Linposing up
pe,,rnics and aristocratically clad. kits dark
eye sparkled through the half mask that cover
ed the upper part of his face. and a nervous
shuddering agitated his uncovered lips, and the
iturk heard-which encircled the lower part of
hie visage,
Doctor." said the mask, " make ready
Tutu hittruuultas—)uu hate au amputation to
Where is the patient !" demanded M.
Thus saving. the doctor turnedtii.
wards the alenve and advanced a step. The
curtains gently moved. and a suppressed sigh
was heard.
" %Like ready your instruments, sir," con.
rslovdh sattl the ask.
n-peated M. H
: le [llll nt.'•
" You wi I only see the hand you are to cut
I." exclaimed tt.e. rum.
H then fold,' his arms, and fixed
ly regirding his i ite;liieutor. said :--•• V 'admire
la. been iiAetl-lo bring tn•t- - liere sir, if you
hare need of in prolessional services, without
Il 'abhag myself about your secrets, I shall do
nIY duty as a surgeipi ; but if you wish me to
"lama a crime, you shall nuflorce me to be
Four acenmplive."
" Rest assured. sir. that there is no crime
!I all this," and taking the doctor be the arm,
be led him to the alcove, from whence a hated
'ft mended. It is this hand you are to cut
The doctor took it in his own and felt the
Elgers tremble at his touch. It was a wo
°We. small, admirably modeled, on one of
Which fin gers was a Magnificent ruby.. cum.
vied anti diamonds. .. But," exclaimed the
doctor, nothing makes an amputation neces
sary..." •
" And if you refuse," exelainsed the stranger,
10,, P• •' shall do the lame int•
them seizing a hatchet which was at the
foot of the bed, he.placed the hand mi a night
stand arid prepared to sever it.
Th- doctor restrained him. •
" our work. 'hen," .and the man.
llot it is an
airocity . eze
• !aimed prior
" Liar nr.tiPill it v, ymi must he : I
iond mailam also demands ii—if
be nsee,oary fo r her to entreat ton. she ill."
f M . 11-------. pale And ileeptirom , felt his
"tre failing when a %Mee, hall extmet ,
was h -aril from the alcove.
I Nlnsieur." it said, With an undefinable an
-11 of despair and resignation... store t tiu are
4.vt,ltirgeoo. let it he. you. I entreat you—yes,
. ° in merry, and not.—"
Come. doctor," said the meek,
The resolution of the stranger was so im
placable and terrifying, the prayer of the poor
woman so despairing, that the doctor felt that
humanity required him to obey the victim.
He took his instruments, implored the mask
with a last look, who, in answer, simply point
ed to the alcove ; then summoning all his en
ergy, he carried the blade to the wrist. Twice
his am trembled—then the blood gushed forth,
and a sharp cry was heard from the above ; to
this succeeded the silence of death. The
stranger stood, firm and unineved—soon the
baud and blade dropped together. The doctor
was livid—he regarded the mask with haggard
eyes. The latter bowed, seized the hand,
took from it the rti.g, and presenting al to the
Take it," said he. " 'tis a forget-me-not
no one will claim ;" he then added in a loud
voice—" 'Tie done !"
Immediately the two other maska entered,
bandaged anew the doctor's eyes and led him
away.. The same vehicle that had brought
him, set him down at his door.—The doctor
stripped off his bandage and perceived the car
riage. wheeling off at a rapid pace in the ob
scurity. It was five in the morning.
For three months, Dr. H had in vain
sought some clue to the mystery of this terri
ble adventure. Without the ring, an undenia
ble proof of the reality of the affair, he would
have believed himself the plaything of some
hallucination. Meanwhile, hoping that this
ring, the only evidence of that terrible night,
might lead sooner or later to some revelation,
he had constantly worn it suspended to his
watch chain.
Day before yesterday. the doctor was invi
ted to a hall given by the Countess de
A mong the elile of fashion that crowded this
gat reunion, was a young in in of pale coulite
*lance RIM e)e of a flatland' 4 rzpressi.m.
who, inial rime to Hole. traver-ed the sal.futa4,
and did' returned tO•leOldle himself troll) the
It happened that this young man. an object
of p .r round himself h.
Chatter to, plane JI [l---. Nts V% re me-
C trail) tizo d theins..ires on his ,a-rson. then
with a trig rx ! ireasuin passed to the ring
titi - h glistened neiow his
SodAro% he ' eropiied Its g p which sepa
rated lion trout the doetor. r d.reetly up ii•
lion and eh - towed hint In, brutal Wall el'. nit-
Ilttrlotr but %lir told) all
as%tor hr rrrrly.ti Wa- a rode ruff
ch ed Ili.) he iitirgi el.
.uta..rrow. a duet is in collie olf heto reit
the part a As tlu> afftir is known ail love,
there is no indiscretion to alltitilo•LT Lot It.
‘o% brit ttil ato reading this. ill, duel wit - have
nitwit kyr, and vi . r) tit , rX L nano
II r 'tar will l •W SOW.. light U on 111
au) toleritotia gitltliort trio ao d upon ti.e...ditrao.
[Jr II has p. thirnuds tic a.•
in a par..
I'•'e sequel of the affair. which aci .
trAlityir , ll. May he thur bUainfril up
ant N.111.11e1) , .. the I••rmer a Ifaljuhirr ul Ili,
of the lull Illustrious tol the &pew.%
the latter the grandson a liohly durh , ns, had
I r .rd a mutual attachment. hut both 1311111 lee
wer.• wnhnut lortune . ••11 my datiohieri"
.stil the U. Herat, marries this poor devil,
Napoleon. tare.% ell to luxury
•• II iny son." said the dueness, •• in .cry a girl
and not a down how shall the noble house
of —be elevated r' A mutual effort was
therefore made to separate the lovers and brake
off the affair, which proved fruitless. Their
love pr..ved too ardent. The next step was to
require Napo•eon to abient himself for a time,
that he might gain a position. He at length
deeded on leaving as secretary to a distant em
bassy. A farewell visit to his beloved. Ma
tilda Caine; Napoleon took her hand and Co
vered it with kisses and tears. Reniemher.
said lie, that you are my betrothed, and that
this hand is tome; thus saying, he placed up
on her finger a little ring set with rubies. It
was my mother's," he added.
Alatilda answered by pressirg the ring to her
lips. Napoleon left. His departure facilitated
the plans of the general anti dutehess ; the for
mer made an appeal to Matilda's devotion,
exaggerated his poverty. Prigagetiirtits which
he could not ItOfil, and set forth it strong terms
his miserable and dishonored old age, and even
hinted at suicide. She alone could save bins.
lorgetung Napoleon and espousing the rich"
count of
Matilda in tier despair, threW herself into
her father's arms. promised all, and received
his blessing for her devotion.
Meanwhile the bans were published, and
early in January last, the marriage was cele
•• I lIIWII see
At the moment of the nuptial benediction
when the ring is placed upon the finger. Ma.
tilde. instead of giving the left hand, as is cus
tomary, passed suddenly to the right of the
Count, and presented him her right hand.—
The Count attempted to correct this, by taking
the left hand. but Matilda intmediately with
drew it, and presented again the,right hand
The Count fearing a scene did not insist, and
Owed the ring upon the right hand. Aje
like Othello's seiz od upon him. for a d irk
stispi,ion had entered his rnutd. He be.otight
Ilatilila to lay aside the ruig. winch she in hi.
Iv; ifi r firmit declined.
r ittivteitt a cit gvd eito e. riain•
tv and 31 svoieni w•-. Urge t
Fusin a letter (nun Napoleon urrtted. in n loch
th 'over. ign-ratit id his pea spoke or his
and ilie•r future railed to het
that her hand was his • and an ouneed his ap
The letter lell into the I , teliv's hands. and
he a t .e D ili vatinid all ; so. tvnh tie sheet
in hand he e•ttere.l hS n tar's elta nber. • I 1.131.
deniviiiil lie eoldly said. ••
sw hal tour hand shall belong ivdh
t, bin ) . Well and good !as 4,1.111 31.11 r .irriv,
I shall owe that tfie molt is areomillialied.'' he
added, with a Italian! snide.
A after Nmpo!eim arrived at Paris, in
a dark desponding state, for hie misfortune was
already known to him.
you or
On the morrow of his arrival a little ebony
box was handed him, which a domestic in
livery had just brought. He opened it. and
judge of his , afrright and despair, for this box—
contkined a bloody hand, a woman's hand—
Matilda's hand I On a paper spotted with
blood were 'these words :—•• This is the way
the Countess of keeps her oath." On
the morrow of the ball at which the young
man and doctor met, the duel came off in the
woods of Vincennes. The doctor was badly
wounded under the arm pit, but not, it is hop
ed. mortally. Before leaving his adversary,
the doctor related the events of that sad night.
When I had finished she gently said : Tell
him that my heart will accompany my hand."
The Count and Matilda left during the night
of the bloody deed, without leaving any track
of their whereabouts. Napoleon was obliged
also to leave, to escape the consequences of the
duel. Huberti is a fictitious name.—the doe
tor is ne other than the illustrious surgeon,
An Exciting Story
It was a sultry evening towards the close of
June, 1772, that Capt. Harmon Ind his Eas
tern Rangers urged their canoes up the Kenne
beck River. in the pursuit of their savage ene
•mies. Four hours they toiled diligently at the
oar—the last trace of civilization was left be
hind. and the long shadows If the sinking forest
met and blended in the middle of the broad
stream, that'wound darkly through them. At
every sound from the adjacent shores—the rail
ing of some night bird, or the quick footstep of
some wild beast—the dash of the oar suspended,
and the Ranger's grasp tightened on his rifle.
All knew the enterprise; and that silence. which
is natural to men who feel themselves in the.ez
treme 01 mortal jeopardy, settled like a cloud up
wit the .midnight adventurers. " Hush—softly.
ni. n !" said the watchful Hannon. in a voice
wlitch scarcely ruse above a whisper. as his el.
tete swept along a rugged prumon'uly—•• there's
a light ahead !" All eyes were bent towards
the oh m! . A t a l Indian fire gleamed up amidst
the great oiks, , tiding a re I aml strong light up
on the waters. For song! , and breathless mo-
ni tit the operamm of the oar was OUNIWIIdeII,
and even• e a r listened with painful earnestness
to ellen the well-known stunt Is a hieh seldom
le.l to Indicate the !mammy of the savages.
All uas now silent. %1 tilt slow and faint niwve
•oents os the oar, the ran.. % gradually appOtarh
e.l the suspected spot Alter moving vauntingly
for a entuom r ilist.,tice, in the d trk shadow,
the par at length ventured unpin the broad rir
e eof the light which at first attracted their si
lent on. Harmon was at their head, with an
et e and hand as quirk as those of the savage
la, my w hum he sought.
The holly of a fallen tree lay across the path.
A. the Rangers were 011 the point of leaping
...eee o, th e hearer whiv r of Harmon again
broke the etlenee. ...See here." he exclaim
il p .111:Ing to the tree. its the work of the
' 4 llmther,..l utr tth ulowed on the lips of the
R n .t, as th. bent ttri fia wird in the direc•
;ion poi , ,ted our by 1 , 41 r commander. Blood
Who .011 on the rank eratts..and a human hand
—tie hand of a w , mite man—lay upon ihe bloody
Then. was not a word Apotp.r). hut every
counientotee.workcil with terrible e ))))) tion
I-lad the R invent followed their own desperate
in , lination. they w.oial have Mimed recklesst v
on to th • work of vengeance ; ton the example
of their leader, who had regained his u-tual calm
ness and self-command prepared them for a less
speedy but more certain triumph. Cautiously
passing over the fearful obstacle in the pathway,
and closely followed by his companions. he ad
vanced steadily and cautiously to the light, hid
ing himself and his party as much as possible
behind the thick trees. In a few moments they
obtained a full view of the object of their search.
Streetied at their length, around a huge fire, but
at a convenient distance frcm it, lay the form of
twenty savages. It was evident from their ap
pearance that they had passed the dal. in one
of their horrid revels, and they were now suffel
ing under the effects of intoxication. Occasion
ally a grim warrior among them started half up
right, grasping, his tomahawk. as if to combat
some vision of his disordered brain but linable
to snake off the stupor front his senses. uniform
ly fell hack into his former position. '
The Rangers crept nearer. As they bent
their keen eyes oiling their well tried rifles, each
felt sure of his aim. They waited for the sig
nal of Harmon,
who was endeavoring to bear
upon the head of one of the most distant lava.
.'• Fire !" he at length exclaimed. and the
eight of his peioe interposed full and distinct be
tween his eyes and the wild scalp luck of the
Fire and rush on !"
The sharp voice of thirty rifles thrilled through
the heart of the forest. There was a toan—a
smothered cry—a wild, convulsive movement
among the sleeping Indians, and all again was
The Rangers sprang forward with their club-
bed rides and hunting knives, but their work
was done. The red met, had, gone to their last
audit before the Great Spirit,'and no sound WWI
heard among them save the gurgling of hot blood
from their lifeless bodies.
PRIDE DfrBUll Teunt.— T -There is no single
ida.taele whielt rtantle way of more peu•
pqa In ),he search ill truth than pride. They
live once declared themselves of a pArtirular
opinion. and they cannot bring themselves to
think they could posiohly he in the wrong;
rovitegilrutly the! ...anion persuade themselves
nl t ho err-sil , ‘ re-erarniviag the founds
nom. of slcur opsoio••8. To aeknowledge and
Eiv.• lip their error. wrothd he a still severer
to .1. fl Mt—troth 14. there is in .re greatness
of mind. i.. eninhilly giving up a mistake. than
tt •ve appeared in esr.iping it at first. if
mit as. mteful one. The surest way of
avoiding erimr ear,fol examination. The
hest vv.,y for le iving roo m for a change of opin
ion, which should always he-'provided f tr, is.
to he iluitiral 111 delivering one's sentiments.—
A man may. without confusion. give up an
opinion which he declared without arrogance
A Story of the Mountain Lovers.
Not many years ago, we read in a book the
story of a lover who was to win his mistress by
carrying her to the top of a high mountain, and
how he did win her and how they ended their
days on the same spot.
We think the scene was in Switzerland, but
the mountain, though high enough to tax him
stout heart to the uttermost, must have been
among the lowest. Lit us fancy tt a good lofty
hill in the summer time. It was, at any rate,
so high that the father of the lady, a protaro-
We, thought it impossible- for a young man,
burdened, to scale it. For this reason alone,
in scorn: he bade him do it, and. his daughter
should be his.
The peasantry assembled in the valley to wit
ness an extraordinary a eight. They measured
the mountain with their eyes ; they communed
with one another, and 'shook their , heads ; but
all admired the young man. and some of his fel
lows, looking at their mistresses, thought they
'could do as much. The father was on horse
back, apart and sullen, repenting that he had sub
jected his daughter even to the shadow of such
a hazard ; but he thought it would teach his in
feriors a lesson.
The young man, (the son of a 'Mall landed
proprietor, who had some pretensions to wealth,
but not to nobility.) stood respectful looking,
but confident, rejoicing in his heart that he
should win his mistress, ihidugh at the cost of a
noble pain, which he could hardly think of as a
pain, considering who it was he was to -carry.
If he died for it, he should at (cast have her in
his arms, and have looked her in the face. To
clasp her person in that manner, was a pleasure
he contemplated with such transport as is known
only to real lovers ; for none others know re
spect heightens the joy of dispensing with for
mality. arid how much dispensing with formali
ty, ennobles and makes greater the respect.—
The lady stood by the side of him pale, desir
ous, and dreading. She thought herlover
succeed, hut only because she thought hint in
every respect the noblest- of his sea, and that
nothing was too mach for his valor and strength.
Gerrit fears eaine over her nevertheless. She
knew init what might happen in chances com
mon to all. She tell the bitterness of being her
self the burden to him and the task ; and dared
neither to look at her father nor the mountain.—
site fixed her eyes. now on the crowd which
ph beheld not. and now on het hands and fin
gei's ends which she doubled up towards her
with pretty pretence. the only deception she had
ever used. Once or twice st daughter or a mother
stepped out of the-crowd, and coming up to her
not w iilistanding the fear of the Lord Baron.
kissed the hand winch she knew nut what to
do with.
The father said, Now, sir, put an end to
this mummery," and the lover, turning pale for
the first time, took op the lady.
The spectators rejoice to see the manner in
which he moves off ; slow but sure. as if to en
courage his mistress, they mount the bill ; they
proceed well ; he halts an instant before he gets
midway. and seems refusing soinething. then as
cends at a quick rate, and now. being at the mid
way point. shifts the lady from one side to the
other The spectators give a shout. The baron
With an sir of indifference bites the end of his
gauntlet. and then casts on them a look of re
buke. Ai the shout, the lover resumes his way.
Slow, but nut feeble, is his siep, yet it get.
slowes. lle stops again, and they see the lady
kiss him on the forehead. 'rile wiine•n begin
to tremble. but the men say he will be victori
ous. He resu.ues again—he is half way be
tween the middle and top—he rushes. he steps.
he staggers. but he does not fall. Another shout
from the men. and he resumes once more his
task ; one-third of the remaining part oldie way
to conquer. They are certain the lady kisses
him on the forehead and on the eyes. The wo
men burst into tears, and the stoutest men look
pale. He ascends slower than ever. but seems
hi be more sure. He halts, but it is only to plant
his foot at every step, and then gaining ground
with an effort, the lady lifts her arms as if to
lighten him. See, he is almoit at the top ; he
stops, he struggles. he moves sideways, taking
very shorts steps and bringing one foot every
time dose to the other. Now he is all but tin the
top, he halts again ; he is fixed ; he stak,gers.—
A groan goes through the multitude. Suddenly
he turns full front towards the tip ; it is luckily
almost a level ; he staggers, but it is forward.—
Yes, every limb in the multitude makes a move
ment as if it wool 1 assist him. See, at last he
is on the top, and down lie falls, with his - bur
den. Au enormous shout! He has won ! He
has won ! Now he has a right to caress his mis
tress, and she is caressing him, fur neither of
them get up. If he has fainted, it is with joy
and it is in her arms.
The baron put spurs to his horse, the crowd
following him. Half way he is obliged to dis
mount : they ascend the rest of the hill togeth
re, the crowd silent and happy—the baron
ready to burst with shame and . impatience.—
They reach the top. The lovers are face to
face on the ground, the lady clasping him with
both arms, his lying on each side.
'• Traitor !" exclaimed the baron, " thou has
practiced this feat before on . purpose to deceive
me--Arise !"
•• You cannot expect it. air." said a worthy
man who was rich enough to speak his mind,
" Sampson himseif might take his rest after
such a deed as that."
Part them." said the baron.
Several persona went up. not to part them. hut
to congratulate and keep them together. The
people look close ; they kneel down ; they bend
ass ear ; they bury their fares upon them.—
•• God forbid they should ever be paned more."
said a venerable man ; •• thee never can be."
lie turned his old (wee. streaming with tears,
and looking up at the baron. said—" Sir, they
are dead !"
NAMBIL—Emma is from the Gemmel. and
riirnifi••s a Nurse; George. from the Greek ;a
Farmer; Martha. from Hebrew. Bitterness;
the beautiful. thoueh common name Mary. is
Hebrew. and means a Drop of Salt Water, a
Tear: Sophia, from Greek. Wisdom ; Susan,
from Hebrew, a Lily ; Thomas from Hehrew,
a Twin ; •Robert from German, famous in
A CLOSE OBSERSER.—A woman who is a
close observer, under the influence of the law
of love, knows so well what belongs to social
and domestiacomfort, that she never enters a
room occupied by a famity Whose happiness
she has at heart, without seeing in an intimt
every trifle upon which" that comfort depends.
If the sun is excluded when it would be more
cheerful to let it shilieln—if the cloth is not
spread at the time fur the accustomed meal—il
the fire is low or the hearth unawept—.if the
chairs are not standing in the most • inviting
places, her quick eye detects in en instant
what is wanting to complete the general air of
comfort one order, which it is woman's busi
ness to diffuse over her whole household ;
while, on the other hand, if her attention has
never been directed to any of these things, she
enters the room without looking around her,
and sits down to her own occupation, without
once perceiving that the dbrvants are behind
hand with the breakfast, that the blinds are
still down on a dark winter's morning, that
a window is still open, that a chair is stand
ing with its back to the fender, that the fire
is smoking for want of better arrangement.
or that it corner of the hearth•rug is turned
by, unreturned love and affection I They are
attached strongly to those who return them
col* j words, indifferent looks and even avoid
theta presence. A word, that might not other
wise be noticed, often sinks deeply in the heart
of one whose life is bound up in another.—
Where an object is cherished, each motion is
watched with solicitude, and a smile gives ex
quisite pleasure. while a frown sends a dagger
to the heart. There is no greater sin than to
crush the warm affections, gushing freely from
a generous heart. It dries up the fountain of
the soul—fades the smile on the cheek, and
caste a shade over every bright and glorious
prospect. Draw near to the heart that loves
you ; return the favors received. and if you
cannot love in return, be careful not to bruise
or break it. by a careless word—an unkind ex
pression, or an air of indifference.
instance olinotoonania is related in the Boston
Star. of a rierp man who fancies that a daugh
ter of a professional gentleman (a married lady)
Is his wile, avid he claimed her with all the
pertinacity of conviction, until it was found
necessary to take him to the Asylum at Wor
cester. He managed. however. to escape, mid
was found on.- dm- quietly reading in the read
ing room of a hotel and taken hark to the asy
lum. On (he way there he was asked if he
really believed the lady was hi. wife. He
said no. That he used to think so, hut that the
difficulty now is. she thinks-so. and wants to
get him, but people will not p unit her. He
is an unmarried man. and seem" - rational upon
all other subjects except this strange fancy
that he is. the husband of another man's wife.
CONVERSATION —lt is an error to suppose
that conversation is talking. A more impor
tant thing is to listen discreetly. Mirabeau
said, that to succeed in this world, it is ne
cessary to submit to be taught ninny things
which you understand, by persons who know
nothing about them." Fattery is the smooth
[hob to success ; anti the most refitted and grati
fying compliment you ran pay, is to listen:—
LA Bruyere says, the* of conversation con.
SleltB in finding it in others, more than in show
ing a great deal yourself; he who goes from
Your conversation pleased with himself and
his own wit, is perfectly well pleased with you.
Most men had rather please than admire von.
and seek less to he instructed—gay, delighted
—than to be approved or applauded. 'rite
most delicate pleasure is to please another."
A Wirs.—W hen a man (license comes to
marry it is a companion whom he wants, nut
an artist. It is not merely a creature who ran
paint and play, sing and dance ; it is a being
who can comfort and counsel him. one who
can reason and reflsst, and feel and judge, and
discourse and discriminate ; one who can assist
him in his arrling, lighten his sorrows. purify
his joys, strengthen his principles, and educate
his children. A woman of the former descry
lion may occasionally figure in the drawing
room. and attract the admiration of the compa
ny. but she is entirely unfit for a helpmate to
a man, and tot" train up a child in the way he
should go."
A NOVEL RACE.—The engineer of the pas
senger train for the east, this morning. descried
two horses on the track between Springfield and
Wilberaham, and gave'thein the usual warning.
The horses nevertheless kept the track. and
quite a spirited and amusing race took place.—
As the engine slacked its pace the horses would
slack, and'when the shrill whistle gave notice of
renewed speed. they would redouble their ac
tivity. The chase laste for about three miles,
when the horses turned of apparently satisfied
with their morning exercise.
FINDING smm—A chap from • the Muth.'
was patrolling the streets of Boston, a short time
since. with a sheet of gingerbread under his
arm, and gazing at the.sigus. when 'one which
was labelled •'General Finding Store' attracted
hie attention. He entered, chewing his ginger
bread, and after a severe effort at swallowing.
like a hen eating dough, he exclaimed.
.• I swow.
you must he darned lucky chaps to find all these
here li thinga.-11 s'pose you aint found my tn
breller nor nothing, are you t.
4: : We like to see men carry out their theories
to a legitimate praetieal result. If a man says is wrong and 1 will not aid her."
he is bound by a parity of reasoning to far.
they, he is hound to say *. the enemy is right
and I will aid him."
firCT To Wtvt. - e.—•• If I am not home from
the parts• .tiknieht at leo n'efork, dont wait for
me ;" said a husband to his better and bigger
That I won't," said she. significantly,'• I
won't wait, but I'll come for you."
He returned at ten precisely.
The &mg of the Redeemed.
We eonntt we come, that have teen held
In burning chains so long; -
nem up I and an we come, a Itcat
Pull fifty thousand strong.
The chains we've stepped that bald us tatted
The wine at and the (WI;
Snipped by s blow—nay, by a wool,
That mighty wont, /ma!
We come from Helier/ palatal,
The tippling shops and bar;
And, as we math. those gates of hell
Feel their foundation jar. .
The very ground, that oft has held
All night our throbbing head,
Knows, that we're up—no mere to fidl,
And trembles at our tread.
From dirty den, from gutter foul.
From watch-house and from prison.
Where they, who gave the poisonous glue,
Had thrown us, have we risen ;
From garret high have hurried down.
From cellar aired and damp
Come up; till alley, lane and street
Echo our earthquake tramp.
And on—and on—a swelling host
Of temperance men we cones,
Contemning and defying all
The power and priests of rum ;
A host redeemed, who drawn the word,
And sharpenedup its edge,
And hewn our way through hostas tanks
To the teetotal pledge.
To God be thanks who pours US 09i
Cold water Gum his hills,
In crystal springs and babbling brooks,
In lakes and sparkling rill;
From these toguencb out thirst we come
With freeman's about and song,
A host numbering more
Than fifty thousand strong.
To CURE • STIFLED H01G1E,..-Take 01141
gallon of urine, and put therein a small hand
ful of junk tobacco; boil down to tone quart;
then add two ounces of the oil of spike, one
ounce of the oil of amber, two spoonfuls, of
spirits of turpentine. and two spoonfuls of hon
ey. Put it into a jog and Cork it tight fur use.
Pancras or APPLICATIAN.—RUb the stifle
hone hard with the mixture fifteen or twenty
minutes; then dry it in thoroughly with a red
hot fire shovel. then ride the horse forth and
hack one hundred rods. Repeat the above two
or three times, and the cure will be effected.--
dm. 4g.
AN EXCUSE.—An editor out west makes the
following apology to his patrons fo the wan*
of editorial and reading matter in hi paper a--
•• We have no news to spare this week, no
spare space to put it in, nor no spare hands to
set at up; and what is more our •devil is sick.
our paper give out, our ink dried op, and our
wife sun off; and taking every thing into con
sideration we do not intend to bestir ourselves
a great deal until our subscribers send us in a
few pounds of that bacon and a few bushels of
them potatoes promised us a long time age.
Give a spring—start up—or you will be a
drone forever. With one. foot in the mire and
the other half sunk—it is the supreme of folly
to stand still and be swallowed up. Make an
effort—start—add you will be on solid ground.
Let nothing discourage you, and success will
be your reward.
Keep yourself from the anger of a great man,
from the tuinult of a mob, from a man of ilf
fame, from a widow that has been thrice mar
ried. from a wind that comes iu at a bole, and
from a reconciled enemy.
A SHREWD REPIX.--James 11, when Duke
of York, made a visit to M iitori, out of curiosi
ty. In the course of their conversation, the
Duke said to the • poet, that he thought his
blindness was a judgment of Heaven on him,
because he had written against Charles I, his
(the Duke's) father, when the immortal poet
If your Highne-s thinks that misfortunes
are indexes of the wrath of Heaven, what must
you think of your father's tragical end ? I
have only lost my eyes—he lost his heMi."-
THE FIRESIDE.-111 there to be found a gift of
Heaven more precious than that possessing
family, a home where virtue. kindness, and en
joyment am every day guests ; where the heart
and the eyes sun themselves in a world of lave.
where the thoughts are lively and enlightened.
where friends not only by word but b) action
say to each—•• Thy joy, thy sorrow. thy hope,
thy prayers, are min.. !"
WAsiinwroN's DEATH ; —It is a fact not per
haps .euersily known. says an eastern paper.
that Washington drew his test breath in the
last hour in the last day of the last week in the
last month of the year. and in die /ad year of
the century. He died Saturday night, 12
o'clock, Dec. 31, 1799. •
ANTtsTiteNms,' a -Greek Philosopher, who
lived about futir hundred years belnre Christ,
taught that virtue conaios in being independent
of circumstances. and that to maintain this. oar
wants,should be reduced to the smallest num
DErtes Tittotut.En.—A bny railed on a
doctor to visit his father. who had the delerium
tremens : not riphilv,rec ,, liectinr the name of
tie attienxe. he (-ailed it the deriPa irembles--.
111 ak rig had Latin, but very Good Lnglish.
Aii:c E.—Boo:twine's house at Lon wood.
St Helena. rape a foreign paper. is nun , a barn.
the room he died in is a anritly , and where the
imperial corpse lay in a same may be found a
niaeltior fur grinding' corn.
Gews upon ;he conseienee will make s fea
ther bed hard ; hut peace of wind will make a
straw bed - soft and easy,
V1117=2111 ho