(ME DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE, TOWANDA : (Jhnra&an Morning, Man 21, 1857. Jetlcttrt %loctrn. THE COMET. BY O. HOLMS. The Comet! He is on his way, And siuging as he flies ; The whizzing planets shrink before The spectre of the skies ; Ah well may regal orbs barn blue. And satellites turn pale. Ten million cubic miles of head, Ten billion leagues of tail I On. on by whistling spheres of light, He flashes and he flames ; He turns not to the left nor right, He asks them not their names ; One spurn from his dcmoni&l heel— Away, away they fly. Where darkness might be bottled up And sold for "Tynan dye.'' And what would happen to to* laud, And how would look the sea, If. in the bearded devil's path Our earth should chance to l>e ? Full hot and high the sea would boil. Full red the forests gleam ; Methought 1 heard and saw it all. In a DYSPEPTIC dream. 1 saw the tutor take his tube The Comet's course to spy, 1 heard a scream—the gathered rays Had stewed the tutor's eye ; 1 saw a fort,—the soldiers all W ere armed with goggles green : Pop cracked the gun ' whiz flew the balls ! Rang went tlie magazine ! I saw the scalding pitch roll down The crackling.sweating piues, And streams of smoke like water-spouts. R.ir-g through the rumbling mines ; 1 asked the firemen why they made Such noise about the town : They answered, not, but all the while. The Lrakes went up and down. I saw a roasting pullet sit I'por a baking egg. 1 saw a crip.-le scorch his hand Kxtinguishing his leg ; I saw- nine geese upon the wing Toward the frozen pole. And every in.'tlier'a gosling fell, Cn.-ped to a crackling coal ! 1 saw the ox that browedtbe grass W,ithe in the blistering rays The herbage in his shrinking jaws \VS all a fiery blaze ; I saw huge fishes boiled to rags. Rob through the bubbling brine ; And thoughts of supper crossed my soul ; I bad been rash at miue. Strange sights ! Strange sounds ! O fearful dream Its memory haunts me still. The steaming sea. the crimson glare. That wreathed each wooded hill ; Stranger! if through thy reeling brain Such midnight visions sweep, Spare, spare. O spare thine evening meal, And sweet shall be thy sleeD. Utisallaneous. A CHAPTER OF FRENCH HISTORY—THE FHILAJDELPHIC SOCIETY. (The following article has been p!Y|>.ir?d frvra various starves by a jtrnlietaan who formerly resided at l'a, ami having some recollection of General Moani. tikes much inUNVst iu all that relates to the hUtory of that brave man.] When Bonaparte liecame First Cousul, an association called the Philadelphic Society, ex isted at Bensacon. The Society was purely literary and philosophic iu its purposes, but General Mallet becoming a member, determin ed to make it instrumental iu restoring the B'Hirbons. He had been recalled by Bona parte from Rome, and sought revenge. To conform the society to his ulterior views he selected, as an assistant. Lieutenant Colonel Oudet. who. though but twenty-five years of had a considerable military reputation.— He had also a knowledge of Free Masonry, and from that he reorganized the Philadelphic Society. He divided its members in three classes, and concealed from each the fuuetions of the other two ; while he as the founder could concentrate the whole force at will Every member was bound to secrecy, but the ostensible objects of the society were but lit tle changed. When the primary organization vvas complete, affiliated societies, composed of t-bt humbler daises were established in thede iwtmeuts, aud introduced into the army o'idet was thus the centre of many circles, which, though links of one chain, had no visu b!v comtccuou. Suspicious, however, ware ex cited. but Fouche was perplexed, and Bona parte alarmed by the vagueness of the danger. He dismissed a uamber of officers, and sent Oudet to his regiment ou garrisou duty, in the Lie of Rhe Oudet was received withenthu > t-m which excited renewed distrust, but led t> no discovery. He was atterwards deprived of >command, and banished to the Jura A ps, where he was born, with orders not to quit. Among the general officers who were affiliat ere Moreau, Luhory. Pichegru, lately es csped from banishment in Guiana, for partici pation m a furmer conspiracy. Oudet chose Moreau to succeed h:a as chief w tbe order, unfolding to him all the ram-fica tiou> of his }>o!iey Moreau'e motives will t w*er be authentically known He bad up -,;'i the Revolution agaioyt the antagonism THE BRADFORD REPORTER. at ertWned heads. He could not therefore have intended to stake his military renown and moral credit in a counter revolution ; but see ing the Republic about to BecOnJe eitinct, and dreading the consequences of military domi nance in Bonaparte, be probably desired a constitutional monarchy by a national compact with the Bourbons. A numerous party in the Senate privately offered him the dictatorship, a large portion of the army would hare hailed the event with acclamation, and he had the confidence of 4000 officers, members of the Philadelphic Society. But thus holding at command all the elements of a counter revo lution, he was unwilling to proceed without the concurrence of the Bourbon princes, and obtaining from them guaranties of liberal in stitutions. Picbegru was at this time in England com municating with the brothers of Louis XVI. He had been connected with Moreau in the army of the Rhine, aud sought and obtained several interviews with him. Moreau was on bad terms with Bonaparte aud his government, but his prudence and moderate principles re volted from the idea of restoring the Bourbons unconditionally, as was proposed by Pichegru, Pichegru's scheme was impracticable because the number of the royalists was inconsiderable; and Cadondal, so prominent in the affair, and chief of the Cbouaus, had no weight but that of courage. Moreau was embarrassed by the connection of the Chouans ; and despite his prudence and consummate sagacity, bis cool and profound combinations were rashly pre cipitated by his associates, Lajolais and others, who impatiently urged him to seize Bonaparte dead or alive, but without a guarantee from the Bourbons he refused to participate in any movement against the consular government. He was unable, however, as Philadelphic chief, to enforce obedience, and his associates virtually deposed him from the chieftainship. The conspiracy was now directed by Piche gru and Cadondal, and the assassination of Bonaparte determiued on. Fifty Chouaus were secretly iutroduced into Paris for the purpose. The plan was to attack the Consul on his way to Multaaison, or St. Cloud. But ] the police were on the alert, and a clae was ; obtained to the whole affair. In February, 1804. Moreau. Pichegru, Ca dondal, the Polignacs, and mare than seventy others were arrested. These arrests were three months after the banishment of Oadet, and no connection being suspected between Oudet and Moreau. Bonaparte put a period to the bauish ment of the former, and pave him the commis sion of major. He arrived iu Paris just after the arrests, resumed his original functions as chief of the Philadelphians, and concerted a plan for the liberation of Moreau, in case of his being capitally convicted. The trial of the conspirators, which lasted fourteen days, created an extraordinary sensa sation not only in Paris, bat throughoat France. The association of names in the indictment was singular. Moreau, the hero of Hohenlindeu —Pichegru, the conqueror of Holland—Po lignan, an ex-noble, am 1 Cadondal the chief of the Brigands of La Vendee ! The prisoners were found guilty, bat the leniences were de ferred. Vsgse rumors of plots, inflammatory pla cards, and frequent and anonymous letters alarmed the government, in case of the con demnation to aeath of Morean. He was in the way of Bonaparte's ambition, but to put him to death was a hazardous experiment, particularly on account of the army. There had been a failure to unravel the plot and the government might be treading on a volcano. It was therefore adjudged prudent, on the sug gestion of Murat, to reduce Moreau to insig nificance by the very leniency of his treatment. He was sentenced to two years imprisonment, but was allowed to retire to America. On reaching the borders of France, he was told he must sell his estates —Gros-Bois was one of them, and the price and purchaser were named to him The price he considered inadequate. Polignac aud some of liis aristocratic asso ciates were likewise spared, because their fa milies had recovered some of their former in fluence. There was even a disposition to spare the life of Cadoudal from admiration of his in domitable courage, and on the eve of the exe cution of the Chouans, whose chief he was, their lives were offered them on conditions.— The messenger found them at prayers, and ad dressing Cadondal, he proposed to him, in the name of the First Consul, a commission in the army and to spare the lives of his associates on their renouncing the cause of the Bourbons. " That does not concern me alone," returned the Chouan chief, " permit me to communi cate your proposals to my comrades, that I may hear their opinions." He then repeated the message, on which one of them immediate ly rose and shouted, ris* k rot. The rest did the same " Yon see," observed Cadon dal to the officer, " we have only one thought and oua cry, nrt U roi. Have the goodness to repeat faithfullj what yon hat# heard."— The officer sighed, left the ceil, and the next dajr the prisoners were execnted. It is astara] that oen sossrrizg acder the PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. yoke of despotism, should meet iu private to discuss their wrong 9, when they are forbidden to meet ptfblicty. In countries where the gov ernment emanates from the people, changes of government are brought about by legal and constitutional means ; but when the people have no political existence, where the right of speech is denied them, and the press is shack led, such association necessarily takes a form tfhich menaces the existence of government itself, and one too often inimical to social or der. Morean was too scrnpalous for his situation in the confederacy. He was hostile to Bona parte, but his private feeliugs were kept under by public considerations. Of Cadoudal, who proposed assassination to him, he said, " don't bring that man again to me," and when his officers and formef associates in arms, as he passed to trial through piles of soldiery, laid their hands opon their swords and whispered, " General, do you want us f" he replied, " No, I do not like blood." At a later period, after suffering several years of exile, and when the persecution or expatriation of himself had been extended to a principal member of his family by the refusal of Bonaparte to permit Madame Moreau to ' land upon the French Coast on a visit to her mother, he felt a sense of the injury aud the injustice, which he freely expressed, and which may have had an iufluence in determining him to take the ungraciods, if not disloyal, part of uniting with the allies at Dresden. He had the misfortun# also, not long previous to lose bis house at Morrisville by fire, and with his house, what he considered to be of more im portance, papers which he greatly valued and could not replace. These calamities, if not in consequence of his exile, were yet not of a sort to reconcile him the better to its continuance. But his motives fir going abroad, as he did not live to carry out his plaus, can never be accurately known. It is easy to suppose that he would make a distinction between taking part agaiust France, and taking part against his personal enemy, whom he considered also to be the tyraut of his native land, and in this estimate of the French ruler he had not onlv all Europe, other than France, to agree with him, but, as is most probable, a large partv iu France itself also. He may have supposed too that he could make better terms for France at the head of the allied armies, than France, in case of her reverse, conld make without him. The foregoing paragraphs, with some chan ges and some additions, hare been taken from an interesting article upon secret societies of Modern Europe. Since preparing them, I have seen what purports to have been a con versation between Moreau and Sir Robert Wilson the evening before the battle of Dres den. The conversation seems very probable, and corroborates some of the conjectures whi- h have been hazarded above. " Wilson," said Moreau, " you and I are foreigners, and I can talk with you freely. I feel badly about the battle of to-morrow. I fear it will be disastrous. I have been here but a little while, and I have not become well acquainted with this large army from different nations. I have not got hold of it. Then I am embarrassed by the presence of these mon archs. I think that 1 know how to command, but I do not feel free to act without consult ing them, and they are not military men. In the next place, I have the appearance of fight ing against France, which no Frenchman likes, God knows. lam not fighting against France but against the tyrant that rules that coun try. But most of all lam troubled, because I know that to morrow I shall have to com mand against a man who will anticipate everv movement which I shall make. I can not make a movement with this army which Bonaparte will not know as well as I do that I am going to make, unless it be a moremeut I ought not to make, and which, therefore, as a military man I will not make." This was a compliment surely to the milita ry genius of Napoleon, expressed in few words by a capable judge ; and, together with what precedes it. is akin to a remark made also by Moreau, and related by Mr. Rush in his memo randa of a residence at the Court ofSt. James. The remark of Mr. Rush is this, that he once heard General Moreau say that " the fault of most commanders, however brave, was back wardness in taking the last step to bring on a battle, especially when armies were large, aris ing from deep moral anxiety, and. after all the uncertainties of the issue" The Duke of Wel lington said it was a just remark. The battle of Dresden took place, and the allies were repulsed, the fall of Morean during the action disconcerting, perhaps, the plan of it, and contributing, probably, to what he fore aaw would be the result. The shot struck him ou the left thigh, jast above the knee, and pas sing through the horse shattered the right Hmb also. In an instant be exclaimed, as the horse tottered down, M it is all over with me ! Oh ! save me from falling ! With much difficulty he was extricated while the balls were flying thickly around him. and carried to a place of safety over tfca hill to the scntb Here be " REGARDLESS Ot DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." was laid upon the grass, and while his limbs were amputated he calmly smoked a cigar, and quieted the grief of those around him, by say ing to them, " be tranquil, gentlemen, it is my fate." His letter to Madame Morean, written a short time before he expired is characteristic of the same extraordinary and submissive com posure. "At the battle of Dresden, three days ago, both my legs were carried away by a cannon ball. The amputation was perform ed as well as possible. That scoundrel, Bona parte is always fortunate. The army has made a retrogade movement, not, however, in conse quence of defeat, but to get nearer General Blucher. Excuse this scrawl ; I love and em brace you with my whole heart." U I Have not Begun to Fight" The above language cf the gallant and brave Paul Jones, when the British comman der asked if he bad struck his flag and surren dered, are memorable words. Although his deck was slippery and streaming with the blood of his gallaut crew, his ship was on fire, bis guns were nearly every one dismounted, his colors shot away, aud his vessel gradually sinking, Paul Jones, with an immortal hero ism continued to fight. "Do you surrender?" shouted the English captain, being desirou to prevent further bloodshed, aud seeing the col ors of the Bon Homme Richard gone, suppos tbe American hero wanted to surrender. But what was, who can imagine his surprise, to receive in reply to this question, the answer, "I hart not begun to fight V ft " The scene is thus described : There was a lull in the con flict for an instant, and the boldest held his breath as Paul Joues, covered with blood and black with powder stains jumped on a broken gun carriage, waiving his sword, exclaim ed in the never be forgotten words,, "Wo I have not brgun to fight vet." And the result was that the battle changes!, and in a few minutes the British ship struck her colors and surrendered, and Paul Jones leaping from his owu siuking ship stood upon the deck of the British vessel a conqneror and a hero. What an admirable watchword for the battle of life does the above stirring incident give to everv man ? Reverses may overwhelm for a time, despuir may ask hope to strike her flag, but planting the foot more firmly, bending the back more readily to the burdens imposed, straining the muscles to the utmost tension and bracing the droppiug heart, let him who is driven to j the wall exclaim, "I have not begun to fight." | They are words of energy, hope and action.— They deserve, they will command success. In ; the darkest day let them ring out and forget the past, the years wasted and goue by, and give them as au inaugural address of a new era. When the misfortunes of life gather too closely around, let your battle cry go forth from the thickest of the conflict, "I hare not begun to fiight," and you will find your foes fleeing before the new strength imparted, and yielding the vantage ground as you press for ward in the battle strife.— Springjield Regis ter. POSITION IN SLEEPING.— It is better to go to sleep oo the right side, for then the stomach is Terr much in the position of a bottle turned upside down, and the contents are aided in passing out by gravitation. If one goes to sleep on the left side, the operation of empty ing the stomach of its contents is more like drawing water from a well. After going to sleep, let the body take its own position. If you go to sleep ou your back, especially soon after a hearty meal, the weight of digestive organs, and body, near the backbone, compress es it. arrests the flow of the blood more or less. If the arrest is partial, the sleep is disturbed and there are unpleasant dreams. If the meal has been recent or hearty, the arrest is more decided, aud the various sensations, such as falling over a precipice, or the pursuit of a wild beast, or other impeuding danger, and the desperate effort to gvt rid of it, arooses us ; that seuds on the stagnating blood, aud we wake in a fright, or trembling, or in a per spiration, or feeling of exhaustion, according to the degree of stagnation aud the length and strength of the effect made to escape the dan But when we are not able to escape the danger, when we do fall over the precipice, wheu the tumbling building crashes us, what then ? Th.it is death That is the death of those whom it is said, when found lifeless in in their beds in the morning : "Thev were as well as they ever were the day before and how often is it added, "aud ate hearties than anumom." This last is a frequent cause of death to those who have gone to bed well to wake no more, we give merely as an opinion.— The possibility of its truth is enough to deter any ratioual man from a late and hearty meal. This we do know with certainty, that "waking up with painful diarrhcea, or cholera, or bilious cholic, euding in death in a very short time, is probably traceable to a late, large meal. The truly wise will take the safer side. For per sons who eai three times a day, it is amply sufficient to make the last meal of cold bread aud butter, and a cup of some warm drink no one can starve on it, while a perseverance in habit beget a vigorous appetite for break fast, so promising oif a day of comfort.— Halls Journal of Health. Hajf An Irish gentleman having purchased an aiarm clock, an acquaintance asked him what he inteuded to do with it. " Oh," said he " it's the most convenient thing in the world, for I've nothing to do but to pull the string and wake myself. *' An Irish girl seeing her mistress feed ing a pet Canary, asked, "How long it tuck them creatures to batch ? " Three weeks,,' she replied. '' Och, sure, tha*'s as 'org as any other ' fcl eicep's p : g" THE SAND HILI.BR WHAT SLAVERY DOES FOR THE POOR WHITE MAN'. A correspondent of Life lilnstratod, trav eling in South Carolina, thus describes the condition of that miserable class of whites called Sand hillers, whom the employment of Slave labor by the wealthier class has driven ioto vagabondage. Between the "low country," of South Caro lina lies the middle, or Sand-hill region. A large portion of this tract, which varies from ten to thirty miles covered with forests of pine interspersed here and there with a variety of other trees. Where it is under cultivation, the principal crop is cotton. But the laud is not generally fertile, and much of it is likely to remaiu for a long time, a partial wilder ness. The country itself presents few interesting features, but it is the home of a singular race of people, to whom I may profitably devote a few paragraphs of description. In traveling through the "middle country." I often passed the rude, squalid cabins of the Sand-hiliers. All the iuraatcs usually flocked to the doorof their windowlessdomicils to stare at me—And such a lank scrawny, filthy set of beings I never behold elsewhere—not even the "purlieus" of the "Five Points." Their complexion is a ghastly yellowish white, without the faintest tinge of wholesome red. The hair of the adults is generally sandy and that of the children nearly as white as cot ton. The children are even paler, if possible than the adults, aud often painfu.lv haggard and sickly looking. They are entirely uneducated, and semi barbarian in all their habits, very daU, stupid and in a general social position far below the slave population Hround them. In fact the negroes look down upon the with mingled feel ings of pity and contempt. They are squat tered on lands belonging to others either with or without their cousent. They sometimes cultivate or rather plant a small patch of ground near their cabins, raising a little corn and a few cabbages, melons anil sweet pota toes. Their agricultural operations never ex tend any beyond this. Corn bread, pork and cabbage, (fried iu lard) seemed to be their principal articles of diet. To procure the latter, and whatever clothes they require, they made shingles or baskets or gather pine knots, or wild berries, which they sell iu the villages, but beyond what is required to supply their very limited actual necessities they will not work for. Their principal employments are hunting and fishing, and their standard amusement, drinking whiskey and fighting. Their dress is as primitive as their habits.— The women and children iu variably go bare headed, bare-footed and bare-legged, their on ly garments apparently being a coarse calico dress. The men wear a cotton shirt and trous ers of the coarse home spun cloth of the coun try, with the addition sometimes of an upper garment too rude and shapeless to be named or described. I one day met a migrating family of these miserable people. On a rao.-t sorry, lank, and almost fleshless substitute for a horse, were packed the entire houshold effects of the fami ly, consistiug of a bed and a few cooking utensils. Two small children occupied the top of the pack. Two larger ones, each load ed with a bundle, trudged behind the mother, who appeared not more than seventeen years of age. The father, a wild, sinister looking fellow, walked in advance of the rest, with his long rifle on his shoulder, and his hunting pouch by his side. A correspondent of one of the city dailies thus describes an encounter with a Sand hill family : Here, on the road, we met a family who have been in town, A little girl of ten rears old, with a coarse fragment of a dres3 on, is sitting on the backboue of a moving skeleton of a horse, which has the additional task of trailing along a rickety specimen of a wagon, . 400. It is supposed that wind-mills originated in the east and were introduced into Europe by the Crusaders. This however, is doubted, as such mills were in use in Europe as early as the first Crusade. Feudal lords claimed the priv lege of erecting all corn mills and requiring their vassals to grind at their mills, called 6c mills. The building of such mill was then very expensive, and none but lords and baron* could afford the exj>ense ; hence they claimed all tolls, from their dependants, byway of rc numeration. At one time the monks of Hol laud desired to erect a wind-mill for their own couveuience ; the lord of the soil opposed their purpose saying that the wind iu that dis trict belonged to him. The monks appealed to their bishop, who in great indignation, claimed spiritual control of the wind*, in his diocese, and granted letter* patent to the holy fathers. By improvements introduced iu France, in the grinding of corn, about the year 1700, the amount of tiour ob tained was ueurlv doubled. Saw mills are more recent in their oriirin, than corn mills. The earliest method known for procuring planks, was by splitt'ng the trunks of trees with wedges, and hewing the sides with axes. I mil the middle of the sixteenth century all the plank in Norway were thus manufac tured. The saw is an instrument of verv re mote antiquity. The inventor of it like all other benefactors ranked among the gods.— Ovid celebrated his praises, in his metamor phoses. He says the idea was suggested by the spine which project from the back-bone of a fish. Iy others, the discovery is attribut ed to the accidental use of the jaw-bone of a snake in severing a piece of wood. The saw was used in pit sawing during most of the dark ag-es. It was first adapted to mills, in Germany, in 1322. Saws were not introduced into England till 1707. The first constructed mills were destroyed by mobs. The invention of the circular saw, has added greatly to the efficiency of modern mills, and now almost every variety and form of timber used by mechanics is cut into the proper shape for use, by such saws.— Ohw barmrr. Do rr YOCRSELVES, HUTS. —Why ask lha teacher or some classmate fo solve"that prob lem ? Doit yourselves. You might as we!! let them eat your dinners as 'devour iumsfoi you." It is in studying as in eating ;he that does it gets the benefit, and not he that see* it done. In almost any school I would give more for what the teacher learn*, simply because the teacher is compelled to solve all the hard problems for them, and answer the questions for the lazy boys. Do not a?k him to par-e all the difficult words or a-s>t you iu the per formance of any of your duties. Do it your selves. Never iniiul though they look dark a* Egypt. Don't a>k even a hint "from anybody. Try again. Every trial increases you: ability, and you will finally succeed by dint of the very wisdom and strength gained in tliiseffcrt, ev< n though at first the problem was beyond your skill. It is the study ami nut the answer that really rewards your {a : ns. Look at that boy who succeeded after six hours of hard study, perhaps. How is lit up with a proud jov as he marches to his class. He reads like a con qu ror, and well he may. His poor weak school mate, who gave ap that same problem after the first faint trial, now koks up to hint w 'ith something of a wonder as a superior.— The probbtn lie® there, a great gulf beiw-eca those boys who sfo-J yesterday side bv side They will never stand together as equals again. The boy that did it for himself has takeu a stride upwards, arid, what is better still, gained strength fur greater one- - . The boy who waited to see others do it has lost both strength and courage, and is already looking for sonie excuse to give np school and study forever. fear A gentleman ouce walking street wheu be met a stoue-euitcr, whom Le thus addressed : " My good fellow, if the <]* vi! was to come now, which of us wouiti he take ?" After a little hesitation the man replied— " Me sir." Annoyed by this answer, the qncriest asked him for a reason. " Because, yer honor, be would be glad to ketch meself, sure ; and be have joa at any time.'' Cirrrxi SwnvrrT. —At a printer's annual festival in Washington city, the following were among the regular toasts : The Con>titution of the United Stares— -s'.' l p by wise and patriotic fexniert, injrtrd on the the hearts of the people, aad U<*xd cp in their best affections. The Deel? ration of Independent—Good i'Axdi g n itr— a free/ '.'ret, fr efrctn errors, ami a first rate ajrr fur the uttc.-s up of Re public*. Woman—May virtues ever occupy *f spoe than her ekirtr, and ber faalta be e? * -V- ' -fr* • j Vj?" cev