(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,
<n which is seated a man—a real outside sqnal
lid barbarian, maudlin and obfnstioated with
bald faced whiskey with a child four or five
years old by his side. Behind this a hag
gard looking boy upon another skeleton of a
horse is coming.
What a low outlandish, low wheeled cart
the horse is palling ! There sits the oi l wo
man and her grown up daughter, with nothing
on apparently, except a very dirty Iwinet, a
coarse and dirty gown. The daughter has a
basket by her side, and the old woman holds
fast to a suspicions looking stone jug. of half a
gallon measure, corked with acorn coh. You
can bet your life on it, that is a jug of whi.-key.
The family have been to the village with a
couple of one horse loads of pine knots ued
for light wood. They have probablv sold
them for a dollar, half of which has doubtless
gone for whiskey, and now they are getting
home. Degraded as they are. you see it is
the man who is helpless and the woman who
has the care of the jug, and conducts the im
portant expedition. There are hundreds such
people dispersed through these Sand hiils.—
Yon see the whole of this party are bare-leg
ged and bare-footed. And how bony and
brown they are ! And it is a curious fact,
that in temperate countries, the children of all
serai-barbarons white people [except Sir Henry
Bulwer's back of red headed Celts,] and ail
Anglo-Saxon back-woods,.or monntain, or prai
rie people, hare cotton-headed or flaxen-head
ed children.
Low indeed is the lowest class of the white
people in the southern States, hut nowhere else
hare I found them so degraded as in South
Carolina. "Poor bockrab," "poor white folks."
: are the terms by which the negroes designate
them, and in the "poor 1 a great deal is meant
in this connection. It includes not only pm
i niarr poverty, hot ignorance, boonshness and
genera! degradation. The Southern negro
never applies the word to any one who has the
manners and bearing of a gentleman, however
light his purse. "Poor white man" as an ob
ject he looks down open—an object of pity or ;
contempt
{ Tbi; ike'cb r **y ■**!! tbe
VOL. XVll. —xo. no.
description given by Southern journals of
Northern mechanics and laborer*—with this
difference. The condition of tLe Jntter (the
mechanics) is too independent and prosperous
to be tolerated by the aristocratic feelings of
the slave-drivers who seek to drag them to a
level with their slaves ; while the Sand-killers
are the low, degraded arid barbarian product
of Slavery domination—the remainder iu this
problem of "Southern Society."
Origin of Mills.
In early ages, corn was pounded In mortars
by band. Solomon alludes to that custom,
when he says : "Though thou shouldst bray
a fool in a mortar with a pestle among wheat,
yet will not his foolishness depart from him."
The hand mills, of later times were of verv
simple construction, and w.-re operated princi
pally by women. In process of time, shafts
were added to these machine*, and they were
worked by tattle. Water mills were invented
about the time of Julius Caesar but they did
not come into geueral use till A. I>. 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