,y,t)rtl l VISA
[From the Forest Minstrel.]
The Three Crowns.
She wore the crown of Beauty,
A queen of hearts was she ;
And proud and strong men at her feet
Adored on bonded knee;
She seemed a thing to worship.
So regal was her grace,
And such a seal of majesty -- 1
Impressed her perfect face.
Her cheeks were red with beauty,
Her smiles was rich with pearls,
Her white brow shone like purity
Amid her golden curls,
Her eyes were like deep fountains
Beneath the southern skies,
In which the richest blue of heaven,
lit pure reflection lies.
Her voice was like tha wild bird's,
'That sings her hymn at even.
Her radient smile came o'er the soul
So like a dream of heaven ;
She wore the crown of Beauty,
But wore it in her pride,
And Envy with her withering breath,
Walked ever by her vide.
She wore the crown of Ger,ius—
She ranged the field of tbought ;
:She studied nature's In auteous book,
With holy lessons fraught t
tomes that are to alias
Impenruably et.
Lucla,ping at her magic touch,
Their prr<•iuua 16ve revealed
foot•tel:+ Ike the zephyr
t-he cl:rnbed Pdrn..iu.;
if oL/I u> rall4bow
Wove gafland. old,:ghk;
1;y 11,21u:en's pure taunt am
She ill tem pauhril to drink,
To cull the never-lading riots CI'S
That clustered on its brink.
Iter mind wa, like pure waters,
Where riciA,t pearls around,
4er la:lcy strung diem playfully
And I:ifelV them t 1 L.Mtij r , .u3d !
A in..any 11uts It It seemed
Froins . ;ll.c./ no _been of 3 Flow gold,
; , ea.ael ;
But. trues ira pure n trite bire.--,orre,
Edw.led a Irazeaat balm
Ta..‘ :.xv upon her heart and life
le,ang and a charm
Abo‘c her fJrrhead
It -.butte sercebely bright,
I➢cautye ruse and Geniu.. grin,
l;rew gliat,,u m iw hgl.t;
That crown 01 Lido
She wore in perfect peace
It shed a light of truth and love,
And tilled her equl with bliee
Wo to the crown of Beauty !
It flowers grew pale and sere,
And its adorers fled like birds.
When autumn days arc drear ;
Who to the crown of Genius;
Twas cold upon her brow ;
Alas ! only n'or the grave
Its living jewels glow
All hail! Religion's chaplet,—
We hie., is heavenly power,
There's healing in each verdant leaf,
And balm in every flower
No blight, no change, no withering,
Conies ever to that wreath ;
It blooms, a balm, a bliss in life,
A gloriouri hope in death.
L Th4 C -I. scdTaucir(s.
[From Gmley's Lady's Book for July.]
A WAY TO BE HAPPY.
=
have fire proof perennial enjoyments--called ern
r;n],mentn..--Iti CUTE R.
"Always busy and always singing at your
;—you are the happiest man I know."
T . :, was said by the - eustoiner of an indostri
"ul hatter named Parker as he entered his
s,,p.
I should not call the world a very happy
one if I am the happiest man it contains." re
piml the hatter, pausingin his work and turn
mg his contented-looking face towards the in
'l ridual who had addressed him. " I think I
•qould gain something by an exchange with
You."
Why do you think so ?"
"You have enough to live upon, and are
!At compelled to work early and late, as I
"I am not so very sure that you would be
the gainer. One thing is certain. I never sing
me work."
" Your work What work have you to
6!-
"Oh, I'm always buiiy.'_% .
" Doing what!"
"Nothing; and I believe it is much harder
trork than making hats."
"I would be very willing. to try my hand at
that kind of work if I could afford it. There
nauldire no danger of my getting tired or com
plaining that I lind too much to do."
You may think so ; but a lbw weeks' ex
penence would he enough to drive you back to
. y t our shop, glad to find something for " your
ands to do, and roue mind to rest upon.
till.. Steele, why don't you go to work ?"
"I bare no motive for doing so."
le not the desire for happiness a motive of
sufficient power ? You think working will
make any One happy.'.
, am not so sure that it will make air.; one
" 2 ipy, but 1 believe that all who are engaged
.
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in regular employments are much more con
tented than are those who have nothing to do.
But no one can be regularly employed. who
has not some motive for exertion. A mere de
sire for happiness is not the right motiv e ; for,
notwithstanding a man. when reasoning on the
subject, may. be able to see that unless he is
employed in doing something useful to his
fellows he cannot be even contented, yet wh en
he follows out the impulses of his nature, if
not compelled to work, he will seek for relief
troin the uneasiness he feels in almost any
thing else; especially is he inclined to run
tutu excitements instead of turning to the quiet
and more satisfying pursuits of ordinary life."
"If I believed as you do, I would go into
business at once," said the hatter. " You
have the means, and might conduct any busi
ness you choose to commence, with ease and
cum fort."
"I have often thought ol doing so,; but 1
have lived an idle life so long that I am afraid
1 should soon get tired of business."
" No doubt you would, and if you will take
my advice you will let well alone. Enjoy
Your good fortune and he thankful for it. As
for me I hope soon to see the•dav when I can
retire from business and live easy the remain
der of my life."
This was in fact, the hatter's highest wish
and he was working industriously with that
end in view. lie had already saved enough
money to buy a couple of Very good houses,
the rent trom which was five hundred dollars
per annum. As soon as he could accumulate
sutiieient to give him a clear income of two thou
sand dollars, his intention was to quit business
and live a gentleman " all the reist of his days.
He was in a very - fair way of accomplishing
all he desired in a few years, and he did ac
vornitlish
❑p to the nine of his retiring from business
which he did at the age of forty-three. Parker
had pas , ied through his share of trial and afflict
: tioa. One of his children did not do well, and
one, his favorite boy, had died. These events
weighed '.o‘t n his spirits for a time, hut no
very long period had chap=ad before he was
singr.,2 at his work—nut. it is true, quite
s o ;:,•i lv before, Let still with an espres•ion
of r ,, litent:n. L. lie lind. Ohara
of ulifpor tviiirit Iret Olt
lilt. but :1.2 1111 r iou thvy Wade way Suoll
In the art of giving up, he h id fit a
nitieh gre.:ter relurt..hee th.in he had supposed
‘i (il., he the ease; an very unexpectedly' be
gan to asl, hru,rlf %%nat he sho n ',l do a ll the
Oa% after ill• had no longer 'a , hop in whit It to
e . p:ov TheTeeityq.! aa, but 11141411e11-
!Try, hutvzvrr. It %%.1.,10rt.. tl ! ar4 by the idea
,4
a hit 1 , It !1,4_ ; belt . : 141 come
and go ju-t enited his . holey ; to have no
earn of Ini,n e,s, nor yul it , pnrplexitieti and
:MX Tills is eeltghtitil.
If I were you'l would !ro into the rountry
and employ niv.srlf on a little ,aid
Irtend 11 the hater. •• You will had it dull
Work i t town, n.ith oe ou Ita,,,:s to
do.”
The hatter shook his head. " Ni. Tin."
said he, '• 1 have no taste fir tarmi-g : it is too
inneh trouble. 1 ant tired of wiirk, and want
dilute rest during the remainder of my life."
Freedom from altor was the golden idea in
his•mmd. and nothing else could find an en
trance. For a few days after he had fully and
finally got clear from all business, and was to
us.. his own Words, a free man, he drank of
liberty almost to intoxication. Sometimes he
would sit at his window, ',wi s ing out upon the
hurrying crowd, and Marking with pity the
care written upon each lace and sometimes
he would walk forth to breathe die free air and
see everything that could delight the eve.
Much as the batter gloried in this freedom
'and boast-ti- of his enjoyments after the first
ithiv or two, he began to grow weary be
fore evening closed in, and then he emild not
tit and quietly enjoy the newspapers as he
fore, for he had already gone over them two
. or three times. even to the advertising pages.
Sometimes for relief, he wiinhl walk out again
after tea. and sometimes lounge ant hide on the
sofa.: anti then go to bed an hour earlier than
he had been in the habit of doing. In the
morning he had no motive for rising with the
sun: no cifort was therefore made itt oyereome
the heaviness felt on awakening, and li c e . did not
rise until the ringing of the breakfast hell.
This •• laziness" of her husband, as Mrs.
Parker did not hesitate t•i call it. annoyed his
good wife. She did not tied thugs any eater
—she could not retire from busmcas . In fact.
the new order of things midis her.a great deal
m ore t ro uble. One half of her time, as she
alleged, Mr. Parker was under her feet, and
making her just double work. He had grown
vastly particular, ton. about his clothes, and
very often grumbled :Mont the way his food
came on the table, what she had never before
known him to do. The hatter's good lady was
not very choice of her words, and when she
chose to speak out, generally did so with re
markable plainness of speech.—The schetne
of retiring from business in the very prime of
life she never approved. hot as her good man
had set his heart upon it fur years, she did not
say mush in opposition. Iler remark to a
neighbor showed her passive state of inind,—
•• he has earned his money honestly, and if he
thinks he can enjoy it better in this way, I
suppose it is nobody's business.
This was just the ground she stood upon. It
was a kind of neutral ground, but she wits not
the woman to suffer its invasion. Just so long
as her husband came and went without com
plaint or interference with her, all would he
suffered to go on smoothly enough. hut if he
trespassed upon her old established rights and
privileges lie would hear it. •
•• I never Palo a meal rooked go badlt• as
this." Mr. l'arker'saitl, knitting his brow one
rainy day at the dinner table.
He had been confined to the hence since
morning. and had tried in vain to find some
means of passing his time pleasantly.
The color flew instantly to his wife's face.
"Perhaps if you had a better appetite you
would see no fault in the cooking," she said,
rather tank.
PUBLISHED EVERY,
!‘ REGARDLESS OF DENUMCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
IVEDNESDAY,. AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD. COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. & H. P. GOODRICH.
" Perhaps not,"he replied. " A good appe
tite helps bad cooking wonderfully."
There was nothing in this to soothe his wife's
temper. She retorted instantly. -
And honest employment alone will give a
good appetite. I wonder how you coult.t, ex
pect to relish your food alter lounging about
doing nothing all the morning. I'll be bound
that if you had been in your 19110 ironing hats
or waiting on your custome since bmikfast
time there would have been no complaint about
the dinner.
Mr. Parker was taken all aback. This was
speaking out plainly e• with a vengeaj i ce,"—
since his • retirement from business is sell
estimation. had arisen very high c mpared
with what it • had previously been: he was, of
course, more easily offended. To leave the
dinner table was the first impulse of offended
dignity.
So broad a rupture as this had not occurred
between the husband and wife since the day
of their marriage—not that causes equally po
tent had not existed, for Mrs. Parker when
anything excited her, was not over-choice of
her words, and had frequently said more cut
ting things ; but then her husband was not so
easily disturbed :—tie had not so high an opin
ion of himself.
It was still raining heavily,ibut rain could no
long keep the hatter at home. He went
forth and walked aimlessly the street for an
hour, thinking bitter things against his wife all
the while. But this was very unhappy work,
and he was glad to seek reliel from it by calling
in upon a brother craftsman, whose shop hap
pened to be ih his way. The hatter was sing
ing at his work as he had used to sing—he ne
ver sung at his work now.
•• This is a very dull day," was the natural
remark of Mr. Parker alter first salutations
were over.
Why, yes, it is a little dull," replied the
tradesman, speaking in a tone that said, " but
it did u't occur to me before."
" how is business now?" asked Mr. Par
•• Very briA ;---1 am so busy, that rain or
shine. It never :emus dull to in..."
1 on hay n't as many customers in."
•• :\o; hut then I get a little ahead ur my
work and that is .otnethinz gained. Rain or
slope, friend Parker. it's all the same to me."
' 'Heir a certainly a very comfortable state
of things to he in. 1 lind a rainy day hard to
get through."
I don't think 1 wodilkl he if I were in your
place," said the old arquaimance. If I could
do nu better I would he down and sleep away
the time."
And remain awake half the night in return
for it. No; that won't do. To he half asleep
and half awake for three or lour hours makes
one feel miserable."
The Ic. tt r ilionaht this a very strange ad
issinn. Ile did not believe that. if he could
all'ord to live without vvork • hg would find even
rainy days hang heavy upon his hands.
•• don't you read ?" he said.
•• 1 du read all the newspapers—that is. two
nr three that 1 take," replied Parker ; •• but
there is not enough in them for a whole day."
There are plenty of books."
Books ? I never read books ; I can't get
interested in Them. They are too long; it would
take me a week to get through even a mo
derate sized book. I would rather go back
to the shop again. I understand making a
hat, but as to books, I never dad fancy them
much."
P irker lonnged for a couple of hours in the
shop of his friend, and then turned his face
homeward, feeling very uncomfortable.
The dark day was sinking into darker night
when he entered his house. There was no
light in the passage nor any in the parlor. As
he groped his way in, he s truck against a chair
that was out of place, and hurt himself. The
momentary pain caused the fretfulness he felt
on liudtng all dark widon to rise into anger. he
went hack into the kitchen, grumbling sadly,
and there gave the cook a sound rating for n ut
having lit the lamps earlier. Airs. Parker
heard all, but said nothing. The cook brought
a lamp into the parlor and placed it upon the
'aide with an indignant air; she then flirted
off up stairs, and told :qrs. Parker that she had
never be, n treated sh badly in her lile by any
person, and notified her that she should leave
the moment her week was Hp ; that anyhow
she h a d nothing to do with the lamps—lighting
them was the chamber-maid's work.
It Mal so happened that Airs. Parker had
sent the chambermaid out: and this the took
knew very well ; but the cook was in a bad
humor about something, and didn't choose to do
any thing not in the original contract. She
was a good - domestic, and had lived with Mrs.
Parker for some years. She had her humors,
as every one has. hut these had always been
borne with by her mistress. Too many fret
ting incidents hail just occurred, however,
and Mrs.. Parker's mind was not so even
ly balanced as usual. Nancy'i manner and
words provoked her too far, and she replied—
. Very well, go in welcome."
Here was a state of affairs tending in no de
gree to increase the happiness of the retired
tradesman. His wife met. him at the supper
table with knit brows. and tightly compressed
lips. Not a word was passed during the
meal.
After supper Mr. Parker looked around hint
for some means of passing .the tinie. The
newspapers were read through ; it still rained
heavily without; he could not ask his wife to
play a game at backgammon.
•• Oh, dear!" he sighed. reclining . back upon
the sofa; and there he lay for half an hour.
feeling as miserable as he had ever felt in his
life. At nine o'clock he went to bed, and. re
mained awake for half the night. .
Much to his satisfaction. when he opened
his eyes on the next morning, the son was
ahining into his window brightly. Ile would
not be confined. to the house so closely for an
other day..
. A few Weeks sufficed to exhaust air of Mr.
Parker's time-killing resources. The 'news
papers, he complained, (lid notcontain anything,
of interest now. flaying retired on his mono•,
and set up for something of a gentleman'," he,
alter a little while.' gave up visiting the shops
"of his - old fellow' tradesmen. He did not like
to be seen on terms of intimacy with "working
people ! Street walking did very well at first.
but he got tired of that ; it was going over and
over the same ground. He would have ridden
out and seen the country, but he had neverbeen
twice-On horseback in his life, and felt rather
.afraid of his.neck. In fact, nothing was left to
him but to, lounge about the house a greater
portion of his lime, anclpurzible at everything ;
this only. made matters worse. for Mn.i Parker
would not submit to grumbling without a few
words back that cut like razors.
Prom a'contemed - man, Mr. Parker became,
at the end of six Months, a burden to himself.
Little things that did not in the least disturb
him before c now fretted him beyond measure.
He had lost the quiet even temper of wind that
wade life so pleasant.. .
A year after he had given up business he
met Mr. Steele for the first time since his re
tirement from the shop.
•• Well, my old friend," said that gentleman
to him, familiary, •• how is at with you now
I understand you have retired from business."
Oh, yes; a year since."
So long ? - 1 only heard of it a few weeks
ago. I have been absent from the city. Well,
do you find doing nothing any easier than 111811U
facturit.g good hats and serving the community
like an honest man, as you did for years ?
What is your experience worth ?"
don't know that it is worth anything. ex
cept to myself, and it is doubtful whether it
isn't too latelor even me to profit by it."
• Row so, my friend ? Is n't living on
your money so pleasant a way of getting
through the world as you had Supposed it
would be 1"
presume there cannot be a pleasanter
way ; but we are so constituted that we are
never happy in any position."
•• Perhaps not positively happy. but'we may
be content."
I.doubt it." •
•. You were once contented."
•• I beg your pardon ; if I had been I would
have remained in business."
•• And been a much more contented man than
you are now."
•• I um not sure of that."
"I sin, then. Why, Parker, when I met
you last you had a cheerful air about
Whenever I came into your shop I found you
singing as cheerfully as a bird. But now you
do riot even smile ; your brows have fallen half
in inch lower than they were then. In fact,the
whole expression of yiour face has changed. I
will lay a wager that you have grown captious,
fretful, and disposed to take trouble on interest.
Everything about you declare this. A year
has changed you fur the worse and me for the
better."
HOW you for the better, Mr. Steele'."
" I have gone into business."
You have ! I hope no misfortune has over
taken you f"
I have lost more than half my property,
but I truet this prove in the end nut a MI6-
furtune."
Really, Mr. Steele, I am pained to hear that
reverses have driven you to the necessity of go
ing into business." -
•• While I am more than ha'll inclined to say
that I am glad of it I led fur ears a useless life,
most of the time a burden to
.myself. I was a
drone iu the social hive ; I added nothing to the
common stuck ; I was of no to any one.—
But now my labors not only t benefit myself, but
the community at large. My mind is interest
ed all day ; I no longer feel listlessness ; the
time-never hangs heavy upon my hands. I have,
as a German writer has said, . fire-proof peren
nial enjoyments, called employments."
uu speak warmly, Mr. Steele." -
It is because I feel warmly on the subject.
Long before a large failure in the city deprived
me of at least ball my fortune, I saw clearly CH
-01101 that there was but one way tu find happi
nes tu this lite, and that was to engage diligent
ly in some useful employment, from right ends.
I shut my eyes to this conviction ever and over
again, and acted in accordance with itouly when
necessity compelled me to do so. I should have
found much more pleasure in the pursuit of busi
ness had I acted fr...m the motive of use to my
fellows which was presented so clearly to my
mind, that I do now, having entered its walks
limn something like compulsion."
•` And do you really think yourself happier
than you were before, Mr. Steele r'
•• I know it. friend Parker."
" And do you think I . would be happier than
lam now if I were to open my shop again !"
do much happier. Don't you think the
same !"
`• I hardly know what to think. The way I
live now is not very satisfactory. I cannot find
enough to keep my mind employed."
" And never will, except in some useful busi
ness, depend upon it. So take my advice, and
re-hpen,your shop before you are compelled to
" Why do you think I will be compelled to
do it."
•• Because it is strongly impressed upon my
mindithat, the laws of Divine Providence are so
arranged, that every man's ability to serve the
general good is brought into activity in some way
or other, no matter how selfish be may bee nor
how much he may seek to withdraw himself
from the common use of society. .Misfortunes
are some of the, means by which many persons
are compelled to become usefully•employed.—
Poverty is-another means."
• .• -Then you think if I do not go into business
again I am in danger ef losing my property I"
I should think you Were—but I may be
mistaken Wit can never forsee what will be
the operations of Providence. If you should
ever reconimence business. however, it ought
not to be from this fear. You should act from
a higher and better motive.- You should reflect
that it it every man's duty to engage in some
business or calling by which the whole corn
mitn;ty will be benefited, and, for this reason,
-and:this alonei•resolve that white you have - the
•ability'you will be a working-bee , and not' a
drone in the !JIVE.. • It is not only wrong, but a
disgrace for any man to be idle when there is so
much to do.
Mr. Parker was surprised to hear his old cus
tomer talk in this way ; hut surprise was not his
onto feeling—he was deeply impressed with the
truth of what he had said.
" I beliive after all, that you are right and I
am wrong. Certainly, there iS no disguising the
fact that my life has become areal burden to me,
and that business would be far preferable to a
state of idleness."
This admission seemed made with some re
luctance. It was the first time he had confess
ed, even to himself, that he had commited an er
ror in giving up his shop. The effects of what
Mr. Steele had said was a resolution, after de
bating the pros and cons for nearly a month, to
recommence business ; but before this could
take place the kind of business must be deter
mined. Since Mr. Parker had ceased in be a
hatter and set up for a gentleman of fortune, his
ideas of his importance had considerably increas
ed. To come back into his old position, there
fore could not be thought of. His wife argued
for the shop, but he would not listen to her ar
guments. His final determination was to be
come a grocer. and a 'grocer lie became.- No
doubt, be thought it more worthy of his dignity
to sell rice, sugar, soap, candles, ect., than hats.
Why. one should be more honorable or dignifi
ed titan the other we do nut understand. Per
haps there is a difference, but we must leave
others to define it—we cannot.
A grocer Mr. Parker became instead of a hat
ter. Of the former business he was entirely
ignorant, of latter he was perfect master.—
But he would be a grocer—a merchant. He
commenced in the retail line. with the determina
tion after he got pretty well acquainted with the'
business to btcome a wholesale dealer. That
idea pleased his fancy. For two years he kept
a retail grocery store and then sold out, glad to
get rid oft. The loss was about one third of
all he was worth. To make things worse there
was a greet depression in trade, and real estate
fell almost one half in calm.. In consequence
of this Mr. Parket's income from tents, after be
ing forced to sacrifice a very handsome piece of
property to make up the deficit that was called
for in winding up his grocery business, did not
give him sufficient to meet his current fami'y
expenses.
There was now no alternative left. The re
tired hatter was glad to open a shop once more
and look out for sonic of Ins old custower..—
Mr. Steele saw his announcement that he had
resumed business at his old stand. and asked for
a share of public patronage. About two weeks
after the shop was re-opened, that gentleman
called in ordered a hat. As he came to the door
and was reaching his hand nut to open it. he
heard the hatter's voice singing an old farmiliar
ail. A smile was on the face of Mr. Steele as
he entered.
All right again !" he said coming up to
the counter and reaching out his hand, " Sing
ing at your work as of old ! 'fins is better than
playing the gentleman, or even keeping a groce
rs, store."
Oh, yes, a thousand times better." the hat
ter replied, warmly. •• lam now in my right
place.
Performing your true use to the community
and happy in doing so."
I shall be happier, lam sure. lam hap
pier already. My hat block and irons, and, in
deed, everything around me, look like familiar
trends, and and give me a smiling welcome.—
When health fails, or prevents me working any
longer, I will give up my shop. but not a dad•
sooner. lam cured of retiring from business."
FROM CALIVORNIA.-.4 small party from Cali
fornia on the 22d of April. arrived in St. Louis
on the 29th ult. About two hundred miles in
the prairies, west of Fort Larime, ond in the
California track, they met Martin's company of
emigrants, and at the Fort met Boggs' party—
the first were moving on finely. but the latter
were undetermined whether they would shape
their course for Otegon or California. Some
were in favor of the former and a large portion
of the latter. 'l'his disagreement as to their ulti
mate destination had caused.some ill feeling, but
no serious misunderstanding. It was thought
that the company would separate into two par
ties, and that each would take the course it pre
ferred.
They report all quiet in that country, but a
general dissatisfaction existing among the Ameri
can settlers owing to the impossibility of procur
ing valid titles to their lands. Some disappoint
ment. also, has been experienced in relation to
the fitqess of the soil for agricultural purposes.
It is believed that its spontaneous productions
are fur more abundant, and of a better order,
than those that ate the result of cultivation. As
a grazing country, however: all seems to agree
that it cannot be surpassed.
OYSTERS AND OSTRICIIES.-Tt is true ! most
veritable. A 'friend tells us that in passing the
Arcade, a few evening - since. he overheard the
following conversation hetween two individuals,
one of whom was evidently a stranger from the
wonder. " Were those things - oysters we eat
down in that cellar V' To be sure they were."
was the reply, " what else should they be ?"
Well. I'll be hanged if I did not always think .
that oysters were long legged things' with feath
ers on 'em."
THE DOCTOR OVERROARTi.-A certain phy
sician at sea made great use of sea water ani6ng
his patients., Whatever disease came on. a dose
of the liquid was first thrown down. In prosess
of time the doctor fell overboard. A great bus
tle consequently ensued on hoard, in' the midst
of whicb the captain came up, anxiously enquir
ed the cause.
'• Oh, nothing, sir," answered a tar. " only
the doctor has fell into his medicine chest,"
HALE OLD MEN.—When 1 see a hale, hearty
old man, who has jostled through the rough
part of the world without having worn away
the fine edge of his feelings. or blunted hie sen
sibility to natural and 'moral beauty, 1 . compare
him to the evergreen of the forest, whose 'colors
instead of fadidg at the approach of winter.
seem to add an additional lustre,'when contras
ted with the surrounding desolation. • •
WIDUIO3I,III LOG
A QUAINT SERSION.—MI. Dodd was a min'.
ister, who lived man ' years ago a few miles
limn Cambridge ; an d having several timesbeen
preaching against drunkenness, some of the
Cambridge scholars (conscience, which is shar
per than ten thousand witnesses, being their
monitor.) were very much offended, and thought
he made reflections on them. Some little time
after, Mr. Dodd was walking towards Cam
bridge, and met some of the students, who as
soon as they saw him at a distance, resolved to
make some ridicule of him. As soon as he
came up, they accosted him with. " Your ser
vant, sir 1" Ile replied, " Your servant, gen
tlemen I" They asked him if he had not been
preaching very much against drunkenness, of
late ? lie answered in the affirmative. Their
then told him they had a favor to beg of him, and
it was that he would preach a sermon to them
there, from a text they should choose. He ar
gued that it was an imposition, for a man ought
to have some consideration before preaching.—
They said they would not put up with a denial,
and insisted on his preaching immediately. (ina
hollow tree which stood by the roadside,) from
the word
.M.A.L.T. He then began : " Be
loved, let me crave your attention. I am Blink
man—come at a short notice to preach a short
sermon—from a shori text = to a thin congrega
tion—in an unworth) pulpit. Beloved. my text
is Malt. Inaimot divide it into sentences, there
being none; nor into words, there being but one.
I must therefore. of necessity, divide it into let
ters. which I find in my text to be these foar—
M. A. L. T.
•• M—is Moral.
" A—is Allegorical.
r• L—ts Literal.
S—is Theological.
•• The Mural, is to teach your rustics .good
manners : therefore M—my Masters, of
you L—Leave off, 'f—Tippling.
•• The Allegorical is, when one thing is spo
ken of• and another meant. The thing spoken
of is Malt. The thing meant, is the spirit of
Malt, which you rustics make. IM—ayour Meat,
A—your Apparel, .1..-your Liberty, and T-.
your trust.
•• The Literal in, according to the letters, M
—much, A—Ale, L—Little, T—Trust.
The Theological is, according to the- effects
it works—in some, M—Murder—in others. A
—Adultery—in all, L— Looseness of Life, and
in many, T—Treachery. .
I shall conclude the subject, First, by way
of Exhortation. M—uiy Masters, A—All of
you, I.—Listen. T—'l'o to my text. Second,
by way o[ Caution.' M—my Masters, A—All
of you. I.—Look for, T—the Truth. Third.
by way of communicating the Truth, which is
this :—A Drunkard is the annoyance of modes
ty ; the spoil of civility ; the destruction of rea
son ; the robber's agent ; the alehouse's bene
factor ; his wife's sorrow ; his children's trouble;
'his own shame ; his neighbor's scoff ; a. walk
ing swill-bowl ; the picture of a beast; the mon•
ster of a man !"
AN TRIFIIMAN'S BELIL:F.-A. gentleman em
ploying an Irishman, wished to know of what
religion he was and one day asked him, "Well
Paddy, my boy, what is your belief?" Is
it my belief, my honor? Well I owe Mistress
Cromiehan five dollars for rent and it is her
belief I'll never pay her, and faith that's my
belief too.
A QUESTIONA Debating Society down
East, is engaged in the discussion of the ques
tion of whether fleas or bed-bugs are the most
obnoxious vermin. Go it fleas—go it bed
bugs! The public are anxiously waiting to
hear how this question will be decided.
Kissiso.—As to kissing we think tobacco
in any shape a porfect antitdote to it.—What!
a delicate rosebud of a mouth to be poisoned
by being brought in contact with an animated
tobacco•hnx—a living-cigar-holdet! Faught !
Sitocsisc BAD.—" I say. Bill." said a fel
low with a shocking bad hat, to one whose
castor was done of the best. " what ticket
does you vote for President nest timer
" Well, said bill. "1 vote the Scott ticket
and I don't vote nothin' else."
•• Co it, Bull," bald his friend—" go it,
that's the ticket for soup!
SLANDER.—It is a poor soul that cannot bear
slander. No deceit man cannot bear slander
No decent man can get along without it ; al
least none who, actually engaged in the strug
gle of busines fife. Have you a had fellow in
in your employment, and discharge him, he
goes round and slanders you ; refuse another
some modest boon which he has asked, he
goes round and slanders you. In fine, as we
said before, we would not give a cent for a man
who is not slandered ; it shows that he is either
a milk-sop or a .fool. N0,,.,n0; earn a bad
name from a bad fellow, and you can easily
do so by correct conduct ; it is the only way
to prove that you are entitled to a good one,
A POLITICAL PARSON .—A minister, who was
a little too muck tinctured with Oolitics for one
occupying his station, one Sabbath morning
during his prayer, expressed a desire that he
and his congregation might imitate " the holy
example of Abraham, David and. Polk." He
intended to say Paul, and was not aware of
his mistake tilt he inquired, the next morning.
why .three or four of the church left the house
during his prayer. •
TARING AN UNBRELLA.-" Luk hea, Sam
Jonsiog, you take my rumereller, say nigwah ?"
Not zanily, Bah, I'se no caudymate for
zaeinive elemananev."
Well, I thought you couldn't he
cam, ob sorb a'a,•k—a degwee ob moral- tur
pentine beyon all parable!"
TICE OCEAN IN A STORM.—=A late writer SayS
that if you would have an idea of the ocean in a
storm, just imaaine ten tnonsand hills and four
thousand mountains all drunk. chasing one an
other over newly ploughed ground with lots of
caverns in them to step into nnw and then.
" !twins," said Ginger. '• which had you
rather ride in a stage coach or a steamboat'"
" Why, I'd rather ride in a stage coach. bekase
itit upsets dar you is; but if the steamboat
blOws up, whar is you.