DIE DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: (£!)itrsi>an morning, 3nne 25, 1857, Sclctteb Ibttrg. UNSEEN TEARS. Unseen tears are like a river, Springing from the mountain high, Gliding noiseless—flowing ever— Hidden from the gazing eye : None may mark the tear-drop starting Froui affliction's bitter smart — Kone may heed the hope departing, From the broken, bleeding heart. When alone, in silent sadness, Comes the heart-felt gushing tear, Quenching every ray of gladness— Quickening every anxious fear ; Then, indeed, we feel the sorrow, bursting from a soul of wo— Shadow of the gloomy morrow, Growing darker as we go. Heartfelt anguish 13 retiring From the world's unhallowed eye : Solitude to grief's inspiring, Freeing every struggling sigh. Thus the spirit bears the wringing Sorrow brings in dreary tone, While our ceaseless cares are bringing Countless fears, because unknown. 'Tis within the soul's recesses, Deep and hidden from the view, Where the heart-pang closely presses, Smiting every vital through. When the raging flame of sorrow Boils the caldron of the heart, Scalding tears will reach the furrow, And the eyelids feel the smart. Could we see the inner weeping Of the dark despairing soul, Think you we'd neglect the keeping, Or unheed our brother's call ? But, alas ! the world is telling Startling things of human wo. While ten thousand hearts are dwelling On the griefs but One can know. Utisffllitneons. CHANCES AND CHANCES. BY FRANCIS D. GAGE. " 1 s*v, Mr. Conductor, when will the next express train go out to St. Louis !" " Eleven o'clock and thirty minutes, to-night, sir,'' was the gentlemanly reply to the rough question. " Eleven o'clock and thirty minutes ! Go to Texas ! Why, it's ten this very minute.— I'll bet my boots against a jaeknife the morn ing express is off." " Yes, sir, it has been gone half an hour.' " Why in natur' didn't yon get us here sooner ? Fourteen hours in Chicager is enough to break a fellow all to smash. Fourteen hours in Chicager, puffing aud blowing ! I've been told they keep a regular six-hundred boss steam power all the while running to blow themselves up with, and pick the pockets of every traveller to pay the fireman and engi neers ! Wal, I guess I can stand it ; I've a twenty that's never been broke, and I guess that will put me through. Why didn't you fire up, old brag—give your old boss another peck of oats ? I tell ye this fourteen hours will knock my calculations ull into the middle of next week." " Very sorry, sir—we've done our best • but as we are not clerks of the weather, 1 hope you will not lay your misfortunes to our ac count. Snow-drifts and the thermometer six teen below zero, are enemies we can't readily overcome." " That's a fact," said the first speaker, with a broad emphasis, and a good-natured, forgiv ing smile. "Fourteen hours in Chicager !" The stentorian voice, sounding like a trum pet had aroused every sleeper from elysiau dreams into which he might have fallen after his long tedious, cold night's travel. Every head was turned, every eye was fixed noon the man who had broken the silence. He was stand by the stove warming his boots. To have wanned his feet through such a mass of would have been a fourteen hour's operation. Six feet four or five inches he stood in those boots, with sliou!dcrs(cased in a fur coat, that booked more like bearing up a world than you will meet ordinarily in half a lifetime.— His head Websterian, his shaggy hair black a* jet, his whiskers to match, his dark piercing eye, aid his jaws eternally moving with a quid lietween them, while a smile of cheerful good humor, notwithstanding his,seeming impatience, attracted every one attention. Fourteen hours in Chicager, eh? Wal, I f an stand it if the rest can ; if twenty dollars won't carry me through, I'll berry of my friends. I've got the things that will bring 'em." And he thrust a hand in a little less in size than a common spade down into the cavern depths of a broad-striped, flashy pair of pants QU( ' brought up that great red hand, as full as d could hold, of shining twenty dollar gold pieces. " Bon't yer think I can stand these ere Chi caners for one fourteen hours ?" A nod of assent from three or four, and a smile of curiosity from the rest, answered bis finest ion in the affirmative. You must have been in luck, stranger," an envious looking man - "You've more than your share of gold." I have, eh ? Well I reckon not. I came wnestly by it. That's a fact. And there's "ro living who can remember this child when /' round the prairies trapping prairie '■'-' is and the like, to get him a night's lodging, or a pair of shoes, to keep the masaasaugers r otn biting my toes ; I've hung myself up "ore nor one night in the timber, to keep out the ways of the wild varmints ; best sleeping 'J the world, in the crotch of a tree-top ! - °w, I reckon you wouldn't believe it, but \e gone all winter without a shoe to my foot; sua lived OH wild game, when I could catch it. t flat s a fad '■> " Didn't stunt your growth," said a voice near. " Not a bit of it. It brought me upright. The prairies are wonderful roomy. I thought one spell 1 would let myself out entirely, but me and mother held a corcus, and decided that she was getting old, and blind like, and it tuk too long, and cost too much to sew up the legs of my trowsers, and so I put a stop to it, aud concluded that six foot five would do for a fellow that couldn't afford the expensive lux ury of a wife to make breeches for him. It was only love for my mother that stopped my growth. If I'd had any idea of a sewing ma chine, there's no telling what I might a done." " You have so many gold pieces in your pocket, you can afford to get your trousers made now. Why don't yon and your mother hold another caucus, and see what you can do ? If she would let you expand yourself, you might sell out to Barnum, and make a fortune travelling with Tom Thumb, and take the old woman along." " Stranger," sai'l the rough, great man, and his whole face loomed up with a mingled ex pression of pain and pride ; "stranger, I spoke a word here I didn't mean to ; a slightly word, like, about my mother. I would give all the gold iu my pocket to bring her back for one , hour to look upon this country as it is now. I She had her eabiu here when Chicager was no-: where ; here she raised her boys—she couldn't j gire them laruin', but she taught us better tilings than books can give : to be honest aud useful, and iudustrious. The taught us to be 1 faithful aud true ; to stand by a friend, and j be generous to an enemy. It's thirty years, ■ stranger, since we dug her grave by the lake side with our hands ; and with many a tear and sob turned ourselves away from the eabiu where where whe had been raised—the In dians had killed our father long before, and we'd nothing to keep us—and so we went to seek our fortunes. My brother, he took down to St. Louis, and got married down there som'ers ; and I just went where the wind blowed, aud when I'd scraped money enough together, I came back and bought a few acres of land around my mother's old cabin, for the place where I'd laid her bones was sacred, like. Wal, in the course of time it turned up right in the middle of Chicagar. I couldn't stand that—l loved my old mother too weli to ] let the omnibuses rattle over her grave, so I come back about fifteen years ago, and quietly ' moved her away to the buryin' ground ; and ; then I went back to Texas, and wrote to an j agent afterward to sell my land. What cost a few hundred to begin on, I sold for over , for over forty thousand—if I'd kept it till now, 'twould been worth ten times that—but j I got enough for't. I soon turned that forty thousand into eighty thousand, and that into twice as much, and so on, till I don't carc what I'm worth. I work hard, am the same rough customer ; remember every day of my life what my mother taught me ; never drink nor fight ; wish I didn't swear nor chaw ; but them's got to be kind o'second uatur' like, and ! the only thing troubles me is my money—havn't got no wife nor children, and I'm going now to hunt up my brother and his folks. If his boys is clever and industrious, and ain't asham ed of my lag boots and old fashioned ways, and his gals is young womeu and not ladies ; if they help their mother, and don't put on mor'n two frocks a day, I'd make 'cm rich every one ou 'em. " Now, gentlemen, 'taint often I'm led to tell on myselt, after this fashion. Hut these old places, where I trapped when I was a boy made me feel like a child agin—and I just feel like tellin' these youngsters about the changes and chances a feller may meet in life, if he on ly tries to make the most of himself. " Hut, boys," said he, turning to a party of youug men, "there's something better than money Get education. Why, boys, if I had as much larn'm' as money I could be President in 185" just e-a-s-y. Why, could buy up half the North, and not miss it out of my pile.— Hot get larnin' ; don't chaw tobacco ; don't take to liquor ; don't swear and mind your mtoher's —that's the advice of a real live Suck er ; and if 3011 mind what I say you may be men (and it aint every feller that wears a goatee and breeches that's a man, by a long ways). Poller out her counsels ; never do a thing that will make you ashamed to meet her in Heaven. Why, boys, I never heard my mother's voice reprovin' me ; and I never done a good thing and made a good move, but I've seem to hear her say, "that's right, Jack," and that has been the best of all. N'othin' like a mother, boys—nothiu' like a mother." All this had passed while waiting to wood, just out of Chicago. The great man was swelling with emotions called up from the dark shadows of the past ; his big rough frame heaved like a great billow upon the ocean.— i Tears sprung to hi 6 deep set and earnest eyes they welled up to the brim—and swam round, asking to be let full as tributes to his mother's memory—tributes to the love of the past. Hut he choked them down and humming a snatch of an old ballad, lie thrust his hands down into his pockets, walked back to the end of the car, pulled the gigantic collar of his shaggy coat up around his cars, buttoned it close, and leaned buck against the window in silence. The oars rattled 011. What a mind was there ; what a giant intellect, sleeping, buried away from light and usefulness by a rubbish of prejudice, habit and custom—doing but half work for want of culture. " A mute inglorious Milton," or rather Web ster, going about the world with his own soul, yet bound by cliaius of ignorance, which pre cluded his doing but a moiety of the good it lay in his power to do. All the way through our long, tedious jour ney, he had beeu ever on the watch to do good lie gave up his scat by the fire to an Irish woman and her child, and took one farther back ; goon a young girl seated herselt by his side ; as the night hours wore ou, and she nodded wearily as he rose, spread his beauti ful leopard skin with its soft rich lining on the scat, made a pillow of his carpet-bag, and iu sjstcd that she should lie down and sleep PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." " \Y hat will you do ? said she naively. " Never miud me—l cau stand up and sleep, like a buffalo ; I'm used to it." A little boy, pulled up from a sound nap to give place to incomers, was pacified and made quiet by a handful Chestnuts and a glowing bit of candy out of the big man's pocket. When lie left the cars for refreshment he brought back his baud full of pies, and distributed them among a weary group. A mother and seveu little childreu, the eldest not twelve years old whose husband and father left the cars at every stopping place, and returned more stupid and beastly each time, scolding the little tired rest less ones with thick tongue, and glaring his furious red eyes upon the poor grieved victim of a wife, like a tiger upon its prey, "because she did not keep her young ones still ; they would disturb everybody." No bite of refresh ment, no exhilirating draught, no rest from that fat, cross baby, came to her all the long night, save when the big man stretched out his great hands and took her baby boy for an hour, and let him play with his splendid watch to keep him quiet. " I'll give ye a thousand dollars for him," said he, as he handed him back to her arms. " Von may have the whole lot for that," answered the drunken father, with a swine like grunt. " It's a bargaiu," said the big man, "pro vidin' the mother's williu'." " Indade, sir, it's not the one of them can be bought for money," was the quiet yet de termined respouse of the mother's hoart. How kii.dly he helped her off of the cars when, at the break of day, they came to their journey's end. Thus all night had he been attracting the attention of the waking ones in the cars. But his kindness would soon have been forgotten by the mass of the passengers, had he he not stamped it upon our memories with his gold. " I wonder who he is ?" " Where did he get in ?" " What an interesting character." " Education would spoil him." " What rich furs !" " Did you notice what a splendid watch he carries ?" " He's some great man incog." Such were a few of the queries that passed from lip to lip. But there came no auswer ; for he who alone could have answered sat crouched in his fur coat, seeming unconscious of all but his own deep thoughts. " Chicago !" shouted the brakeman, and in an instant all was confusion, and our hero was lost in the crowd. The uext we saw of him was at the baggage stand looking up a band box for a sweet-looking country girl who was going to learn the milliner's trade in the city. As he he passed to our carriage we discovered him again, holding an old man by the hand, while he grasped the shoulder of the conduc tor of another train with the other, getting for the deaf gjay-haired sire, the right infor mation as to the route he should take to get to his " darter who lived near Muscatine, lowa." " God bless him for his good deeds!" was our earnest aspiration, as we whirled round the corner. May his shadow never grow less ; nor the gold in his pocket diminish, for in his unnumbered charities and mercies dropped so unostentatiously here and there, he is, perhaps, doing more good in his day and generation, tlian he who devotes his thousands to build charitable institutions, to give honor to his own name. 01), how much Ihc world needs great hearts that are able to comprehend little things ! and yet how often it happens that the learned, the wise, and the rich out-grow the every-day wants of humanity, and, feeling within them selves the power to move rightly, pass the humble duties that would make a thousand hearts leap for joy, and push on, looking for some wrong to right, some great sorrow to be soothed, some giant work to be accomplished ; and failing to find the great icork, live and die incarcerated in their own selfishness, and do nothing at all. This rough man's nature seemed the nature of the little child. His quick eye saw at a glance; his great heart warmed, and his groat hand executed his little work of charity —so small that one would have expected to to see them, slip between his giant fingers un accomplished—yet were they done. There cording angel will have a longer column to set down to his account of deeds well done, than all the rest of the passengers on that crowd ed car, on that long tedious, stormy uight, in January, 1-SSG. A story is told of a grave divine on Cape Cod, uot long since, who awoke from a comfortable nap in his chair, and discovered his amiable helpmate in the performance of an act for which Gov. Marcy once made a charge of fifty cents to the State—in other words mending his pantaloons. Inspired with a love of fun which seldom affected him, he enquired, " Why are you, my dear, like the evil adversa ry spoken of in Scripture ?" Of course she was unable to discover any resemblance. " Be cause," said he, " while the husbandman slept, you soircd the ta res /" EDUCATION is a companion which no misfor tune can depress—no crime can destroy—no enemy can alienate—uo despotism can enslave. At home a friend—abroad au introduction—in solitude a solace—in society an ornament. It chastens vice ; it guides virtue ; it gives at grace and government to genius. Without it what is mau ? A splendid slave ; a reasoning savage ! Early on a very cold morning, a travel ling profile painter called at the house of a wag, aud inquired if he wanted a profile ta keu. " Yes," was the reply, " I want yours taken from the door. tS!r A geutrous man will place the benetits he roofers beneath hie feet—those he receives, nearest his heart. Joan sf Arc. Joan was born in 1411, the daughter of a l>oor peasant in the province of Lorraine. She was taught to sow and spin, but not to read ami write, and to the last of her career she could not sign her own immortal norne. She was a geutle, beautiful, bashful child, deeply imbued with religious feelings. Her religion was the concrete Romanism of the time, and was learned at her mother's knee. The re ligious teaching instilled into her soul, became the life of her whole being. She lived in an interna! world with saints and angels, and this inward life became dearer and nearer than her outward existence. She was a poet, as well as a devotee, and the greatest that France ever had. She was indifferent to the pastimes of youth, and spent much time in prayer to St. Catharine and St. Margaret. The disturbed state of her country kindled her devotion into a flame of self-devoted patriotism. Her inter nal world became endowed with external ex istence, aud her visions pushed themselves into voices, and shapes, visible to her entranced eyes. The sense saw what the soul wished. At 13 years, walking in her father's gar den, she heard the voice of the Archangel Mi chael calling upon her to go to the succor of the king. Then came voices naming her the deliverer of France No historian doubts her faith in the reality of what she saw. The most modest and bashful of women, she resist ed long this inward impulse. The news of the seige of Orleans at last decided her. Then commenced that course of entreaty with the governor whieli at last forced his common sense fo yield to the persistency of that sense which is not common. She was permitted to go to the dauphiu at Chalons, 150 leagues through a country occupied by-the enemy. She de tected the disguised dauphin, told him lie was the true heir, and assured him heaven had sent her to see him crowned in the city of Rheims. After much hesitation her aid was accepted. Her work now was to relieve Or leans and to see the dauphin crowned in the city of Rheims, then in the bauds of the Eng lish. Her inspired earnestness spread enthu siasm around, and many believed in her pow ers. She was hailed as a saint She reform ed the army—converting the soldiers from ma rauders into crusaders, aud changing the camp into a camp-meeting. Her name went before her, and fought her battles in the armies of the English. It was a superstitious age, and they said, if she is of God, it is impious to fight against her—if of the Devil how can we prevail against all France backed by Satanic powers ! With 200 men she entered the city, without opposition from the English. Great was the joy of the be seiged. Religious ceremonies were performed and then came the attack. Her military skill consisted only in resolution and audacity.— She mounted the walls of the English forts, and though struck down by an arrow, she again ascended, and struck terror into the Eng lish, who thought her dead. They began to see visions in their turn, and declared that St. Michael appeared in the air cheering on the French. In seven days the English burned their forts, raised the seige and retreated. — Two months after, Rheims opened its gates, and the king was crowned. Joan's task was done—her vision accomplished. She asked to lie allowed to return to her mother and the care of her flocks. Policy dictated a refusal, and she was still retaiued to sustain the cause she had saved. The only reward she asked was that her native village might uot be tax ed, which it was not for 300 years. But she no longer felt that she was doing the work of God, and her heart was not in the work. The saint was sinking into the sol dier, when she was saved by captivity. She was taken prisoner by a Bnrgnndiau soldier, and sold to the English for 100,000 livres.— Their joy knew no bounds. The hated "witch" was at last in their hands, and they prepared to glut their vengeance. Charged with here sy and sorcery, she fell into the hands of theo logical wolves and foxes, who exerted all the malice and ingenuity of their mean natures to entrap her, without success. Her simplicity and truthfulness evaded all their snares. Hav ing persecuted her from a heretic to a Catho lic, these infamous creatures persecuted her from a Catholic to a heretic, that they might condemn her to a stake. She was burned in the city of Rouen on the 10th of May, 1431. Thus was consummated one of the darkest crimes recorded on the page of history, which, as it blazons on the eye, across the interval of four centuries, throws a lurid glare of infamy on the names of those who perpetrated it.— Such beautiful simplicity, such angelic devo tion, was never before, nor never hereafter will be witnessed on earth. Victorious over persecution, peerless among women, the name of Joan of Arc will perish not so long as beau ty, devotion and goodness shall be cherished among men. To GET RID OF HOUSE ANTS. —The best way to get rid of ants is to set a quantity of cracked walnuts, or shellharks. on plates and put them in the closets where the ants congre gate. They are very fond ot these, and will collect in them in myriads. When they have collected in them, make a general auto-da-fe, by turning nuts and ants together into the fire, and then replace the plates with fresh nuts. After they have become so thinned off as to cease collecting on plates, powder some gum-camphor and put in the holes and crevi ces ; whereupon the remainder will speedily vamose. It may help the process of getting tliem to assemble on the shellbarks, to remove all edibles out of their way for a time. Be®- Trees with double flowers are, too of ten, the emblem of friendship—there is plen ty of blossom, but no fruit. A young lady says that if a cart-wheel has nine felloes attached to it, it's a pity that a girl like her can't have one. Itesiy- Human existence hinges upon triilc What is beauty without soap Rules for Restoring the Drowned. BY MARSHALL HALL, M. I)., F. P.. S. The following rules are the result of half a year's investigation of apnoea and asphyxia— a subject which I propose to prosecute still further, knowing that truth only comes of long continued labor and research. I wish especial ly to put to the test of careful experiment the correctness of the dogma that, if the heart has once ceased to beat, its aetiou cau never be re stHred —a dogma calculated to paralyze our efforts in many cases in which hope may not be totally extinct : First: Treat the patient instantly on the spot, in the open air, except in severe weather, freely exposing the face, neck and chest to the breeze. Second : Send with all speed for medical aid, and for articles of clothing, blankets, &c. Third: I'lace the patient gently on the face and with one arm under the forehead, so that any fluids may flow from the throat and mouth —and, without loss of time : /. To Excite Respiration : Fourth : Turn the patient on his side, and —(lst) —apply snuff or other irritant to the nostrils. (2d) —dash cold water on the lace, previously rubbed briskly until it is warm. If there be no success, again lose no time, but ll. To Initiate Respiration: Fifth : Replace the patient on his face ; when the tongue will fall forward, and leave the entrance into the wind-pipe free—then, Sixth : Turn the body gently, but complete ly, on the side and a little beyond, (when in spiration will occur), and then on the face, making gentle pressure along the back, (when expiration will tuke place) alternately ; these measures must be repeated deliberately, effi ciently, fifteen times in the minute, only ; meanwhile— lII. To Induce Circulation and Warmth. Seventh : Rub the limbs upwards, with firm pressure and with energy, using handkerchief, Ac., for towels. Eighth : Replace the patient's wet clothing by such covering as can be instantly procured, each bystander supplying a coat, waistcoat,&c. These rules are founded on physiology; and while they comprise all that can be immediate ly done for the patient, exclude nil apparatus, galvanism, the warm bath, Ac., as useless, not to say injurious, especially the last of these : and all loss of time in remowtl, Ac., as fatal. —London Lancet. A SNARE TALE. —Says the lawyer : " Ani mals sometimes very nearly approach reason in their cunning. I got interested in the study of serpents down in Arkansas, where I spent the most of last year. I don't know why, but I was constantly watching them in new situa tions, and surrounding them with novel expe dicnts. Of all kinds I experimented most with rattlesn<es and copperheads. " One afternoon I seated myself on a little knoll to smoke and read—for 1 always had a book or newspaper with me—and had been en joying myself for sometime, when I espied a copperhead making for a hole within ten feet of where I sat. Of course I threw down*ray book and cigar, and proceeded to try a new experiment. As soon as I stirred the rascal made a rush for the hole ; but 1 caught his tail as lie got nearly in, and jerked him some twen ty feet backward. He threw himself into a coil in no time and waited for me to pitch in. But I concluded to let him try his hole again. After a while lie started for it, stopping when I stirred, to coil himself up, but as I kept pret ty quiet he recovered confidence and again went in. Again £ jerked him out. No sooner did he strike the ground than he made a grand rush for the hole in a striglit. line for my legs ! But that didn't work, for I got out of the way and gave him another flirt ! " This time lie lay still a while, appearing to reflect on the course to be taken. After get ting his head a little way in, he stopped and wriggled his tail as if on purpose for me to grab it. I did so : and quicker than a flash he drew his head out and came within a quar ter of an inch of striking me in the face. How ever, I jerked him quite a dista* ce, and resolv ed to look out next time. Well he tried the same game again, but it wouldn't work—l was too quick for him. "This time lie lay in a coil half an hour, without stirriug. At last, however, lie tried it once more. He advanced to within five feet of the hole very slowly, coiled again, and then the rascal got the start of mo by one of the cutest things yon ever heard of." " How was that?" we ull exclaimed in one breath. " Why," said the narrator, sinking his voice to the acme of solemnity, and looking as honest and sober as a man could look, " why he just turned his head toward my hand, and went down the hole tail first !" FOLLOWING A DOCTOR'S DIRECTIONS. —Some days ago a good-looking fellow was arraigned before Court, charged with having stolen a watch. It was his first error, and he was rea dy to plead guilty. The Judge addressed hiin in very gentle tones, and asked him what had induced him to commit the theft. The young man replied that, having been unwell for some time, the doctor advised him to take something, which he had accordingly done. The Judge was rather pleased with the humor of the tiling, and asked what had led him to select a watch. " Why," said the prisoner, " I thought if 1 on ly had the time, that nature would work a cure !" fcaT" An exchange asks very innocently il it is any harm for young ladies to sit in the lapse of ages. Our opinion is, that it all de pends upon the kind of ages selected. Those from 18 to 25, we think arc rather hazardous. gtff- An exchange says that at New Orleans it requires three persons to start a business firm ; one to die with the yellow fever, one to got killed in a duel, a.id a third to wind up the luisfucss. VOT,. XVL 11. XO. 8. J How PETEK AXD PAEL LOOKED. —It isallow -1 able to mention general notion of the forms j and features of the two Apostles, which have , been handed down in tradition, and as repre ? seated by the early artists. Paul is set before us as having the strongly marked and promi nent features of a Jew, not without some of the finer fines indicative of Greek thought.— His stature was diminutive, and his body dis figured by some larucnc.Ss or distortion, which' may have provoked the contemptuous expres sion of his enemies. His beard was long and thin. His head was bald. The characterise 1 ties of his face were a transparent complexion, which visibly betrayed the quick changes of his feelings ; a bright gray eye under over hanging and united eyebrows : a cheerful and j winning expression of countenance, which invi te d the approach and secured the confidence c-f strangers. It would be natural to infer, from his continual journeys and manual labor, that he was possessed of great strength of constitu tion ; but iiiirii of delicate health have often gone through the greatest exertions, and his own words, on more than one occasion, show that he suffered much from the luck of bodily health. I'eter is represented as a man of larger and stronger form, as his character was harsher and more abrupt. The quick pulses of a soul revealed themselves in the flashes of a dark eye. The complexion of his face was full and sallow ; and the short hair which is described as entirely gray at the time of his death, curl ed black and thick around his temples and chin when the Apostles stood together at Autioch twenty years before tlieir martyrdom. Believ ing as we do, that these traditionary pictures have probably some foundation in truth, we take thein as helps to the imagination. THE VARIOUS GASES. —The use of gas in any form, is comparatively modem. Coal gas has been known as an inllammublo substance for some two hundred years, and received from different chemists different names. But no practical use of this discovery was made for a long time. A German chemist, Becher, at tempted something of this sort about the year ITGO, and entirely failed , and it was not for many years afterwards that any progress was made in that direction, in 178.), Lebanon proposed to procure illuminating gas from the distillation of wood. In 1792, Murdoch first applied eoal gas to purposes of illumination, and made the first public exhibition of the pro cess and its results in 1802. Illuminating gas is heavy carburet fed hydrogen gas—which is synonymous with carburet ted and per enrbu rettcd hydrogen gas. The term Olefiant gas, or marsh gas, refers to the same product.— There is a light earburetted hydrogen gas, "Containing but half the proportion of Carbon required iu illuminating gas, and possessing very iittle illuminating power. This is always mixed, more or !es, with the heavy. Oil gas requires less purifying than coal gas, for it con tains no snlpher, and less carbon and hydro gen ; one gallon of it produces ninety cubic feet of gas. The illuminating power of oil gas is to that of the best coal, as 2 to 1 ; and the specific gravity of oil gas varies from 445 to 1.100. Iu Rheims, gas is produced from the soap used to free woolens from grease.—• The soap water is treated with sulphuric or muriatic acid, when the fat collects on the sur face of the liquid ; this is remeltcd and puri fied by a little sulphuric acid, to effect a clari fication, then with crude soda, to make soap, and the residue is distilled in retorts, like ros in, for the production of gas One pound of rosin yields from ten to twenty cubic feet of gas, the illuminating power of which, compar ed with that of coal gas, is as 3 to 2, and with that of oil as 3 to 4. MEMCAI. USE or SALT. —In ninny cases of a disordered stomach, a tca>poonful of salt is a certain cure. In the violent, internal agony, termed cholie, add a tenspoonful of salt to a pint of water ; drink it down and go to bed ; it is one of the speediest remedies known. Tin; same will revive a person who seems almost dead from a heavy fall. In an apoplectic fit no time should be lot in pouring down salt and water, if sufficient sensibility remains to allow uf swallowing : if not, the head must lie sponged with cold wa ter until the senses return, when salt will com pletely restore the patient from the lethargy In a fit, the feet should be placed in warm water, with mustard added, and the logs brisk ly rubbed, all bandages removed from the neck and a cool apartment procured, if possible.— In many cases of severe bleeding at the lungs, and when other remedies fail, lb llnsh found that two teaspoonfuls of salt completely stay ed the blood. In case ufa bite from a mad dog, wash the part with a strong brine for an hour, and li eu bind on some salt with a rag. In toothache, warm suit and water held to the part, removed two or three times, will re move it in most cases. If the gums be a fleet ed, wash the mouth with brine. If the teeth be covered with tartar, wash them twice a day with salt and water. In swelled neck, wash the part with brine, and drink it also, twice a day, until cured. Salt will expel worms, if used in food in a moderate degree, and aids digestion, but salt meat is injurious, when used much. Is A Ijt'Ml". Klder Jones was not remarka ble for his eloquence, nor was he a very good reader, especially among the hard names.— Iut lie said that "all Scripture is profitable," and therefore he never selected any portion, but read the first chapter lie opened at after ! he took the stand to preach. One day ho stumbled in this way upon a chapter in Chroni cles, and read, " Kleazer begat rhineas, and Phineas begat Abishua, and Abishua begat. Bukkie, and Bukkie begat Czzie," and stum bling worse Hitd worse as he proceeded, lie stopped, and running his eye ahead, and see ing nothing better in prospect, lie cut the ter short by saying, " And so they w and begat one another to the end ter" " .v*