OK DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA :
fflorninn, Nouembcr 12,1857.
Sflcttcb |lotlrn.
THE MUSIC OF THE RAIN.
Wliile the vesper bells were ringing.
When the birds had ceased their singing,
To mv heart sweet mem'ries bringing,
Came the music of the rain.
Mv childhood days so bright and fleeting,
Tiny rain-drops seemed repeating,
Waking joy at thoughts of meeting
Those I ne'er may see again.
Mem'ries sweet and sad were blending,
Joy and sorrow both were lending
Voices which were never ending :
Sweet the music of the rain.
From my heart I may not sever
Mem'ry's index, pointing ever
Backward to the joys that never
Will revisit me again.
Though to-day is full of sorrow.
From the past we still may borrow,
Joys once tasted, while to-morrow
Whispers ever, Hope in me.
I.ike sweet harp-strings touched all lightly—
breams the fairies weave us nightly—
Come the rain-drops smiling brightly,
Dripping from each waving tree.
Jeweled blossoms brightly gleaming,
Like the stars of Heaven beaming,
While a muffled voice is seeming
Still to hum the mystic strain ;
Music of those flowing numbers
Lulls the heart to dreamy slumbers,
Waking still a thousand wonders
Of the magic voice of rain.
Miscellaneous.
CDS EARL, THE ROBBEH.
A THRU-LI NO ADVENTURE.
In the summer of 1832, I was engaged with
a young man named Lyman Kent, in locating
land lots, along the Wabash, in Indiana. I
j had gone out partly for the benefit of my
I health, and partly to accomodate one who had
I bpen a noble friend to me, and one who had
i purchased a great deal of government land.—
: At Logansnort he was taken sick, and and af-
I ter watching him a week, in hopes that he
I would soon recover, I found that he had a set-
I tied fever, and as the physicians said that he
I would not be able to move under a month, I
I determined to move on alone. So I obtained
fa good nurse, and having seen that my friend
1 v,mid have everything uecessarv to his comfort
I that money could procure, 1 left him.
As good luck would have it, I found a party
I of six nieu lound on the very route I was go
| in.', and I waited one day for the sake of their
i company. At length we set out, with three
K pack horses to carry our luggage, and I soon
1 found that I had lost nothing by waiting.
I for my companions were agreeable and euter-
I tabling.
On the the third day from Logansport, we
| reached Walton's settlement, on the Little
L River, having left the Wabash on the morning
■ • f that day.
ALont ten o'clock, just after I had retired,
R and jiH'st as 1 was falliug into a grateful
1 drowse, I was startled by the shouts of men
I and the barking of dogs, directly under my
1 window. As the noise continued, I arose and
i threw on my clothes, and went down.
" Ah—don't you know the trouble ?" the
■ lost returned. " You've heard of Gus. Karl,
I perhaps ?"
I Who in the West at that time had not
I heard of him? —the most reckless, daring,
| and murderous robber, that ever cursed a coun-
I try. I told the host I had heard of him
R often.
" Well," he resumed, "the infernal villain
R was here only this afternoon, and murdered
Rand robbed a man just up the river. We've
I "n out after him, but he's gin us the slip.—
RWe tracked him as far as the upper creek,
Rani there he came out on the bank, fired at
I l ' us, ami killed one of our horses, and then
■ drove into the woods. We set the dogs on.
■ out they lost him."
R ' What sort of a man is he ?" I asked.
"The very last man in the world you would
R'iik: for (ius. Karl. He's small, not a bit
■over five feet six; with light curly hair, a
■ -niootli white face, and very stout. But, Lord
■lore ye, he's qiuck as lightning, and his eye's
1-1 tire in it. He dresses in all sorts of shapes
|lut generally like a common hunter. Oh !
Ikes the very devil, I do believe."
I After the tub full of whiskey, which the
I '-t provided, was all drank, the crowd began
ft 1 ) disperse, and shortly afterwards, I went up
Pzain to lied ; and this time I slept on, undis
fturijed, until morning.
I I had just eaten my breakfast, and had gone
ft' 1 ! to the door, when a horseman came dash
in? up the place, himself and his animal all
ftovired with mud. The first thing the new
ft 'Uitr said, was to inquire for me. I answered
ft*' o|lce to the name—and he then informed
ftjL 1 that Ev man Kemp could not live, and
ft at he wished to see me as soon as possible !
I The doctor says he must die," said the
ft't long enough to see you."
I , I'oor Lyman !" I murmured to myself.
I young—so hopeful—with so many friends
ft-,! food relatives in his far off home—and
ft, ea down to die in a strange land." I told
t| ; e n , lau I would set on my return, as soon as
I-j'siole. u e a t e g o me breakfast and then re
ft lrri *l his journey, being bound up as far as
ftyVawuttomie border.
\ L s(; Hled up my bill and then went for my
i ft Jr * 1 hut a bitter disappointment awaited
• k found the animal's foot swollen very
£ a "d d pained him so that he could not
rf I* ° a it- Had the road been good, I should
Ihat en tem l )te d to try him ; but I kuew
■ '!■ 1° SOme the mud would be deep.
I'vPl t0 ost as^e d hi™ if he could
[ 0r H: a horse He could do neither.—
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
His only horse had been shot the night before,
by the Wabash robber. There was not a
horse in the place to be obtained for any
amount of money I returned to the stable
and led my horse out, but he could not even
walk with any degree of case. I could not
use him. I was in despair.
" Look," said mine host, as I began to de
spond, " can't you manage a canoe ?"
" Yes—very well," I told him.
" Then that's your best way. The current
is strong this morning, and without a stroke of
the paddle, 'twould take you along as fast
as a horse could wade through the mud.
You shall have one of my cauoes, for just
what it is worth, and ye can sell it in Logans
port for as much."
"If ye darn't shoot the rapids," added the
landlord, "ye can can easily shoulder the ca
noe and pack it around. Tisn't far."
I found the boat to be a well-fashioned
" dug-out," big enough to bear four men with
ease, aud I at once paid the owner his price—
ten dollars —and then had my baggage brought
dowu. I gave arrangements about the treat
ment of my horse, and then put off. The cur
rent was quite rapid, say four or five miles an
hour, but not turbulent—and I soon made up
my ruind that it was far better than to ride on
horse back. The banks of the river were dense
ly crowded with large trees, and I saw game
plenty ; and more than once I was tempted to
fire the contents of my pistol at some of the
bolder " varmints j" but 1 had no time to
waste, so I kept on. Only one thing seemed
wanting, and that was a companion ; but 1
was destined to find one soon enough.
It was shortly after noon, and I had eaten
my dinner, of bread and cold meat, when I
came to a place where the river made an ab
rupt bend to the right, and, a little further on,
I came to an abrupt basin, where the current
formed a perfect whirlpool. I did wot notice
it, till my canoe got into it, and found myself
going round instead of ahead. I plied my
wood paddle with all my power, anil soon suc
ceeded in shooting out of that rotary current ;
but in doing so, I ran myself on low sandy
shore. The effort had fatigued me not a little
and as I found myself suddenly moored, I re
solved to rest a few minutes.
I bad been in this position some ten minutes,
when I was startled by hearing a foot fall
close by me, and on looking up saw a man at
the side of (ffv boat. He was a young look
ing person, not over two and twenty, and
seemed to be a hunter. He wore a wolf skin
shirt. Leggings ot red leather, and a cap of
bear skin.
" Which way ye bonnd, stranger ?" he ask
ed in a pleasing tone.
" Down the river, to Logansport," I re
plied.
"That's fortunate. I wish to go there my
self," the stranger resumed. " What say you
to my to my taking vour second paddle, and
keeping your company ?"
" I should like it," I told him frankly ; "I've
been wanting company."
"So have I," added the hunter. "And
I've been wanting some better mode of con
veyance than these worn out legs, thro' the
deep forest."
" Come on," I said, and as I spoke he leap
ed into the canoe, and having deposited his
rifle in the bow, he took one of the paddles,
and told me he was ready when 1 was. So
we pushed off, aud wc were soon clear of the
whirlpool.
For an hour wc conversed freely. The stran
ger had told me his name was Adams, and his
father lived in Columbus, lie was out on a
mere hunting and prospecting expedition, with
some companions who had gone to Logans
port by horse, and having got separated from
them in the night, had lost his horse in the
bargain. He said he had a great sum of mon
ey about his person, and that was the reason
why he disliked to travel in the forest.
Thus he opened his affairs to me, and I was
fool enough to equally frank. J admitted that
I had some money, and told him my business ;
and by a quiet and unpresuming course of re
marks, lie drew from me that I had money
enough to purchase forty full lots.
Finally the conversation lagged, and I be
gan to give my companion a scrutiny. 1 sat in
the stern of the canoe, and lie was about iirid
ship, and facing me. His hair was of a flaxen
hue, and hung in long curls upon his neck ;
features were regular and handsome, and his
complexion very light, lint the color of his
face was not what one would call fair. It
was a cold, bloodless color, like pale marble.
And first time too, I now looked particularly
at his eyes. They were gray in color, and had
brilliancy of glaring ice. Their light was in
tense, but cold and glittering like a snake.—
When I thought of h's age, I sat him down for
not much over thirty.
Suddenly a sharp, cold shudder ran through
my frame, aud my heart leaped with a wild
thrill. At any rate—l knew it—therccould
be no doubt—l had taken into to my canoc
and into my confidence, GustusKarl, the \Y a
bash robber ! For a few movements I feared
my emotion would betray me. I looked care
fully over his person again, and I knew I was
not mistaken. I could look back now, and
see how cunningly he had led me to a confes
sion of my circumstances —how he had made
me tell my affairs, and reveal the state of my
finances. " Wnat a fool I had been ! But it
was too late to think of the past. 1 had
enough to do to look out for what was to fol
low.
I nt length managed to overcome nil my
outward emotions, and then I began to wach
my companion more sharply and closely. My
pistols were both handy, and I knew they* were
in order, for I had examined them both in the
morning, when I thought of firing at some
game.
They were in breast pockets which had been
made on purpose for them, and I could reach
them at any instant. Another hour passed
away and by that time I had become assured
that the robber would make no attempts upon
m&, until nightfall. He said that it would be
convenient, that we were both together, for
we could run all night, as one could steer the
canoc while the the other slept
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" RESARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
" Aye," I added with a smile, " that is good
for me, for every hour is valuable—l would
not miss meeting my friend for worlds."
" Oh, you'll meet him, never fear," said my
companion.
Ah—he spoke them with too much meaning.
I understood it well. I knew what that sly
tone and strange gleaming of the eye meant.—
He meant that he would put me on the road
to meet poor Kemp in the other world ! I
wondered only now, that I had not detected
the robber when I first saw him, for the ex
pression of his face was so heartless, so icy—
and then his eyes had such a wicked look, that
the most unpracticed physiognomist could not
have failed to detect the villian at once.
During the rest of the afternoon, we con
versed some, hilt not so freely as before.
1 could see that the vidian's eyes were not
so frankly bent on me as he spoke, and then
he seemed to avoid my direct glances. These
movements on his part were not studied, not
even intentional ; hut they were intuitive, as
though his very nature led him thus. At
length night came on. We ate our suppers,
and then smoked our pipes—and finally my
companion proposed that I should sleep be
fore lie did. At first I thought of objecting ;
but a few momeuts' reflection told me that
I had better behave as though he was an hon
est man ; so I agreed to his proposition.—
He took my seat at the stern, and 1 moved
further forward, aud having removed the
thwart upon which my companion had beeu
sitting, 1 spread my cloak in the bottom of the
canoe, and then having placed my valise for a
pillow, I laid down.
As soon as possible, I drew out one of my
pistols, and under cover of a cough, I cocked
it. Then I moved my body so that my right
arm would be at liberty, and grasped my
weapou firmly, with my finger upon the guard.
I drew up my mantle, slouched my hat, and
then settled down for my watch.
Fortunately, for me, the moon was up, and
though the forest trees threw a shadow upon
me, yet the beams fell upon Karl, and I could
see his every movement. We were in the
Wabash, having entered it at three o'clock.
" You will call rac at midnight," I said
drowsily.
" Yes," lie returned.
" Good night."
"Good night, and pleasant dreams. I'll
have you further on your way than you think,
ere you wake up again."
" Perhaps so," thought I to myself, as I
lowered my head and pretended to lower my
self to sleep.
For half an hour my comeau'on steered the
canoe very well, and seemed to take but little
notice of me—but at the end of that time I
could see that lie became more uneasy. 1
commenced to snore with a regularly drawn
breath, and that instant the vidian started as
starts the hunter when he hears the tread of
the game in the woods.
But hark ! Aha—there was before one
lingering fear in my mind, that 1 might shoot
the wrong man, but it was gone now. As the
fellow stopped the motion of the paddle, I dis
tinctly heard him say :
" Oh, my little sheep—you little dreamed
that Gus. Karl was your companion ; hut he'll
do you a good turn. If your friend is dead
you shall follow him, aud I'll take your traps
to pay your way to heaven 1"
I think these were the very words. At any
rate they were similar. As he thus spoke
he noiselessly drew in the paddle, and then
rose to his feet. I saw him reach over his left
shoulder, and when he brought back bis hand,
he had a huge bowie knife in it ; I could see
the blade gleam in the pale moonlight, and I
saw Karl run his thumb along the keen edge,
and then feel the point! My heart beat fear
fully, aud my breathing was hard. It was
with the utmost exertion that I continued my
snoring, but 1 managed to do it without in
terruption. Slowly aud nbislessly the foul
wretch approached me ; and so cat-like was
his step, that it would not have awakened a
hound—and his long gleaming knife was half
raised. I could hear his breathing plaiuly,
and I could hear the grating of his teeth, as he
nerved Himself for the stroke.
The vidian was by my side, and he measur
ed the distance from his hand to my heart with
his eve. In his left hand he hcldu thick hand
kerchief all wadded up. That was to stop
my mouth with ! Every nerve in my body
was strung, and my heart stood still as death.
Of course my snoring ceased ; and at that in
stant the huge knife was raised above my bo
som. Quick as thought I brought my pistol
up—the muzzle was within a foot of the rob
bers heart—he uttered a quick cry—l saw the
bright blade quiver in the moonlight, but it
came not upon me. I pulled the trigger and
the last fear was passed.
I had thought that the weapon might miss
fire, hut it did not. There was a sharp re
port and I sprang up and backed ; I heard a
fierce yell and the robber fell forward, his
head striking my knee as it came down.
Weak and faint I sank back, but a sudden
tippingof the canoe brought me to my senses
and I went and took the paddle. As soon as
the boat's head was once more right, 1 turned
my eyes upon the form in the bottom of the
canoe, and I saw it quiver—only a spasmodic
movement —and then all was still.
All that night I sat at my watch and steer
ed my little bark. I had my second pistol
ready, for I knew not that wretch was dead.
He might be waiting to catch me off my guard
and then shoot me. But the night passed
slowly and drearily away, and when the morn
ing broke the form hud not moved. Then
I stepped forward and found that Gus Karl
was dead. He had fallen with his knife true
to its aim, for it had struck very near where
my heart must have been, and the point was
driven so far into the solid wood that I had to
work hard to pull it out, and harder still to
unclasp the marble fingers that were closed with
the dying madness about the handle !
Swift went the tide, and ere the snn went
again to rest I reach Logansport.
The authorities knew the face of Gnstus
Karl at once, and when I told my 6tory, they
poured out a thousand thanks upon my head
A purse was raised, and the offered reward
put iu and tendered to me. I took the simple
reward from the generous citizens, while the
remainder I directed should be distributed
among those who had suffered from the Wa
bash robber's depredations.
I fouud Kemp sick and miserable. He was
burning with a fever, and the doctors had shut
him up in a room, where a well man must have
suffocated.
" Water ! water ! In God's name give me
water 1" he gasped.
" Haven't you any ?" I asked.
He told me " no," I threw open the window,
sent for a pail of fresh water, and was on the
point of administering it, when the doctor
came in. He held up his hands in horror, and
told me that it would kill the sick man. Put
I forced him back and Kemp drank the grate
ful beverage. He drank freely and then slept.
The perspiration flowed from him like rain, and
when he awoke again his skin was moist and
his fever was turned.
In eight days from that time lie sat in
his saddle by my side, aud together we start
ed for Little River. At Waltou's settlement
I found my horse wholly recovered, and when
I offered to pay for his keeping, the host would
take nothing. The story of my adventure on
the river had already reached there ahead of
me, aud this was the landlord's gratitude.
POWER OF A WORD. —I was told a story to
day, a temperance story. A mother, on the
green hills of Vermont, stood at her garden
gate, holding by her right hand a son of six
teen years, mad with love of the sea.
" Edward," said she, " they tell me that
the great temptation of the seamen's life is
drink. Promise me before you quit your
mother's hand, that you never will drink."
Said he—for he told me the story—
" 1 gave her the promise. I went the broad
globe over—Calcutta, the Mediterranean, San
Francisco, the Cape of Good Hope—and for
forty years, when ever I saw a glass filled with
sparkling liquor, my mother's form by the gar
den gate on the hillside of Vermont, rose up
before me, and to-day at sixty, my lips are iu
nocent of the taste of liquor."
Was not that sweet evidence of the power
of a single word ? Aud yet it was but half ;
for, said lie—
" Yesterday there came into my counting
room a young man of forty aud asked me.—•
"Do you know me?" " Xo," said I. " I
was brought once," said lie to my informant,
"drunk into your presence on ship board ; you
were a passenger ; the captain kicked me aside ;
you took me into your berth, till I had slept
off the intoxication, and then you a>ked me if
I had a mother. I said, never that I knew
of ; I never bad heard a mother's voice.—
You told me of yours at the garden gate, and
to-day, twenty years later, I am master of one
of the finest packets in New York, and I came
to ask you to come and see me."
How far back that little candle throws its
beam—that mother's word on the hillside of
Vermont ! God be thanked for the al
mighty power of a siugle word 1
ASK YOUR QUESTIONS INTELLIGIBLY. — A
person iu a rural district in the south of Scot
land, remarkable for the conceit and pomposity
of his manner, was one day examining a day
school and astonishing both teacher and schol
ars by the mode in which he propounded his
questions on the lessons. The class happened
to be reading the 23d chapter of Genesis, in
which we read of Jacob's return to his fatlicr
land, and the dread he felt at meeting his in
jured brother Esau.
" What," asked the examiner, among the
other questions, " what was there in the cir
cumstances of Esan that was calculated to ex
cite apprehension in the miud of Jacob ?"
Xo answer.
The question was repeated in terms slightly
varied, but as unintelligible to the children,
still no reply. At last the teacher requested
permission to ask the question, and did so in
the following words :
" He wishes to know what made Jacob
afraid of Esau ?"
Immediately the whole class simultaneously
replied :
" Esau had four hundred men with him.
HONOR. —Perhaps there is not any word in
the language less understood than Honor ; and
but few that might have been equally mistaken,
without producing equal mischief.
Honor is both a motive and an end ; as a
principle of action it differs from virtue only
in degree, and therefore necessarily includes it,
as generosity includes justice ; and as a re
ward, it can be deserved only by those actions
which no other principle can produce. To say
of another that lie is a Alan of Honor, is at
once to attribute the principle anil confer the
reward. Rut in the common acceptance of
the word, Honor, as a principle, does not in
clude virtue ; and therefore as a reward, is
frequently bestowed upon vice. Such, indeed,
is the blindness aud vassalage of human rea
son, that men are discouraged from virtue by
the fear of shame, and incited to vice by hope
of honor.
A very stiugy man lost his son, James.
The minister caiue to comfort him, and remark
ed that such chastisements of Providence were
blessinlis in diguise ; and although in the
death of his son, he had suffered a severe and
irreparable loss, yet undoubtly his own reflec
tions had suggested some source of consola
tion. " Yes, (said the weeping, but still prov
ident father,) Jim was an awful cater."
ft®" A gentleman complained to old Ranis*
ter that some malicious person had cut off his
horse's tail, which, as he meant to sell him,
would be great drawback. " Then," said
Charles, " you must sell him wholesale "
" Wholesale ?" says the other, " how so ?"
" Because you can't retail him."
ftSPWhy is a kiss like some sermons ? Be
cause there are two heads and one application
The Last Moments of Nero.
When Xero learned that he had a master
in Galba, lie upset the table at which he was
seated, feasting, dashed to pieces his two most
favorite crystal glasses, called for a box of
poison, which lie was afraid to use, and then
rushed into the Servilian garden, to think up
on what he should do next. There, or within
his sleeping room, lie passed a most miserable
night ; and when, at daybreak, lie found that
his guards had not only deserted him, hut had
carried off the little gold box containing the
poison, and even the very covering of his bed,
he ran headlong down to the Tiber, where lie
stopped short on the bank, and slowly walked
back again. It was then, barefooted and half
dressed as he was, that he was encountered by
the faithful l'liaon, who thing a cloak over his
shoulders, tied an old handkerchief about liis
head, hoisted the bewildered wretch on to a
horse, and rode away towards a country house
four miles off. In danger of discovery, the fu
gitive party abandoned their horses, scrambled
through thickets, brakes, bye paths and bram
bles, and at length reached the neighborhood
of the desired asylum. The tender feet of the
Emperor were mangled and bloody, despite
the care which had been shown by his friend
to spread his cloak on the ground for the ex-
Emperor to tread upon. Phaon asked him to
conceal himself for a while in a gravel-pit ;
but Xero declared that it looked too much
like a grave, and lie was determined not to lie
buried alive. He sat down under a wall, pick
ed the burrs and brambles from his dress, drank
from the hollow of his hand a few drops of
water, and sighed over the thought of the
draughts he used to imbibe of boiled water
made cool again iu snow. He was at length
got into the house, where he turned away in
disgust from the piece of brown bread which
was offered him—his last banquet ; drank
again a little lukewarm water, Hung himself
on an old flock bed, and cursed his destiny.—
They who surrounded liiin counselled liini to
make an end quickly ; and thereupon he had
a grave made before liiru to his exact measure.
He ordered sundry preparations to be made
for his funeral, commanded water for the wash
ing of his body, wood for the pile, expressed a
hope that they who survived him would allow
his head to remain on his body, and lie then
burst into an agony of tears at the thought, as
he said of what a clever fellow the world was
about to lose : " Qua Us artifer pf' fo !" was
his exclamation. It was not his only one. He
cited lines from various Greek and Latin au
thors as applicable to his situation ; and when
reproached for dallying so long belorc he put
himself to death, very appositely and natural
ly inquired if any one present was willing to
show him the way by setting him the example.
He then made a few more pedantic quotations,
and finally, with trembling hands, put the dag
ger to his throat. He would have held it tln-re
long enough had it not been for Epaphroditus,
who grasped his hands and forced it into his
throat. The terror of the ex-inonarch was fix
ed on his features after death. Put even he
had friends ; five thousand crowns were ex
pended on his funeral pile, on which his body
was laid in a splendid silk coverlet. A couple
of his old nurses collected his ashes and an Im
perial concubine accompanied them in the pi
ous task of solemnly depositing the remains in
the tomb of the Domiti. For years after lov
ing hands hung garlands on his tomb ; and
surely Xero could not have won this tribute
of sympathy, spontaneously made, had lie not
had sonic touch of virtue iu him, which saved
him from ranking beneath humanity.
How PEOPLE TAKE COLD. —The time for
taking cold is after your exercise : the place
is in your own house, or office, or counting
room. It is not the act of exercise which
gives the cold, but it is tiie getting cool too
quick after exercising. After any kind of ex
ercise, do not stand a moment at a street cor
ner for anybody or anything ; nor at an open
door or window. Among the severest colds
known, were those resulting from sitting down
to a meal in a < 00l room after a walk ; or be
ing engaged in writing and having let the fire
go out, their first admonition of it was that
creeping dullness, which is the ordinary fore
runner of severe cold. Sleeping in rooms long
unused, lias destroyed the life of many a visi
tor and friend ; our splendid parlors, and our
nice " spare rooms," help to enrich many a
doctor. Cold, sepulchral parlors bring disea
ses, not only to visitors, but to the visited.—
Put how to cure a cold promptly ? that is a
question of life and death to multitudes. Tin re
are two methods of universal application ; first
obtain a bottle of cough mixture or a lot of
cough candy—any kind will do ; in a day or
two you will feel better, and in high spirits ;
you will be charmed with the promptness of
the medicine ; make a mule of yourself by giv
ing a certificate of the valuable remedy ; and'
in due course of time, you may depend upon
another certificate being made out for your ad
mission into " the Cemetery." The other rem
edy is, consult a respectable physician.
FOR PARENTS AND GIRLS. —Since there is a
season when the youthful must cease to be
young, and llie beautiful to excite admiration;
to learn how to grow old gracefully, is perhaps
one of the rarest and most beautiful arts that
can be taught a woman. It is for this sober
season of life that education should lay up its
richest stores Yet, forgetting tliis, dowc not
seem to educate our daughters exclusively for
the transient period of youth, when it is to ina
turer life wo ought to avert ? Do we not edu
eate them for a crowd, forgetting that they
are to live at home ; for the world, and not
for themselves ; for show, and not for Use ; for
time, and not for eternity.
ft®" One night, when Sir Richard Steele
pressed Dr. Garth to stay and drink with him,
the doctor consented, " For," said he, " I have
but fourteen patients that I ought to see to
night, and of these five are so bad that no
phvsician can cure them, and nine have such
constitutions that I don't believe that, all the
physicians in London 'ould kill them."'
VOL. XVII i. XO. 23.
How to Produce Sleep.
T presume there are few persons who linvc
not been occasionally sufferers from inability
to sleep, crying " (deep, O gentle sleep !" with
the King in the plav. and envying the happy
facility of the sailor boy to drop into forgetful
ness on the rude singe of a tempestuous sen.
Sometimes this inability is the effect of dis
ease ; but more generally of mental pre occu
pation and excitement, produced by the events
of the day, or intense application to n particu
lar study. The mind seems to be chained to
one thought We would banish it, but we
cannot. We close our eyes, we open them,
we look about, we look steadily at one point,
we turn over, we turn back, we resolve we will
not think of the matter any longer ; but do
what we may, the one thought retains its place
and hold, and still presses with the weight of
lead upon, apparently, the same point ot the
brain.
How to procure sleep in these circumstan
ces is a question which has occupied the atten
tion of more than one physiologist, from Galen
down to the author of " The Anatomy of
Sleep," Edward Binus, M. IV, who records
: the following recipe :
j " Let him turn on Ids right side, place his
head comfortably on the pillow, so that it ex
actly occupies the angle a line drawn from the
head, to the shoulder would form, and then
slightly closing the lips, take rather a full in
spiration, breathing as much as lie possibly
. can through the nostrils. Having taken a full
' inspiration, the lungs are then to he left to
their own action—that is, the respiration is
I neither to he accelerated nor retarded too
much, hut a very full inspiration must be ta
ken. The attention must now be fixed upon
l the action in which the patient is engaged.—
He must depict to himself that lie sees the
breath passing from his nostrils in a continu
ous stream ; and the very instant that be brings
his mind to conceive this apart from all other
• ideas, consciousness and memory depart, imagi
nation slumbers, fancy becomes dormant, tho't
ceases, the sentient faculties lose their suscep
tibility. the vital or ganglionic system assumes
the sovereignty, and, as we before remarked,
he no longer wakes but sleeps."
Having never tested this method, I am una
; bie to say whether it is effectual or not ; bur
the author himself, while he adduced the names
i of many who have procured sleep by employ
ing it, candidly admits that others have deriv
ed no benefit from its use.
I The common method recommended to pro
i cure sleep, is to engage in long, complicated
and abstruse arithmetical calculations. This
I have tried ; but I cannot say with much suc
; cess. AVork as I might with the figures, I nei
ther could divert ray mind from the engross
i ing subject of thought, or I merely succeeded
in substituting one engrossing for another, and
hence felt no more tcudeucy to sleep than be
fore.
Many recommend rising and sponging with
cold water. I have often derived great bene
fit from this ; as also from throwing the clothes
otr in winter and lying exposed until I became
; very cold. Hut I have always found a repe
tition, and certainly an iteration, of this pro
cess less beneficial than the first trial.
The only effectual remedy for wakefulness
which I have hitherto employed, is a happy
inspiration or invention of my own. With me
it has never failed ; and I make it known for
the benefit of those who, like myself, have suf
fered grievously from want of sleep " o'night."
The great point to be gained, in order to
j secure sleep, is escape from thought—especial-
I ly from that clinging, tenacious, imperious
' thought which, in most cases of wakefulness,
had possession of the mind. 1 always effect
this by the following simple process: I turn
my eye-balls as far to the right or left, or up
ward, or downward, as I can without pain,
and then commence rolling them slowly, with
1 that divergence from a direct line of vision,
! around in their sockets, end continue doing
this until—l fall asleep ; which occurs genc
j rally within three minutes, and always within
| five minutes, at most.
The immediate effect of tiiis procedure, dif
: fers from that of any which I ever
heard, to procure sleep. It not merely diverts
thought into a mere channel, but actually sus
pends it. Since I became aware of this, I
| have endeavored innumerable times, while thus
j rolling my eyes, to think upon a particular
I subject and even upon that which before kept
!me awake, but 1 could not. As long as they
j were moving round, my mind was a blank. '
If any one doubts this, let him try the cx
-1 periment for himself ; I wish he would ; let
him pause just here, and make it. I venture*
to a.-snrc him that if he makes it in good faith
in the manner described, the promise of " a
penny for his thoughts," or for each of them,
while the operation is in progress, will add
very little to his wealth.
Such being its effects, wc cannot wonder
that it should bring sleep to a nervous and
wakeful man at li ght. The philosophy of the
matter is very simple. A suspension of thought
is to the m iul what a suspension of travel or
labor is to a weary body. It enjoys tlie luxu
ry of rest ; the strain upon its faculties remov
ed, it fall.-, asleep as naturally as the farmer
iu his chair after toiling all day in his fields.
11. V.
II urn or CoMnumxstoN. —German witness
es who have but a slight knowledge of our
language, often cut a sorry figure in the Police
f'ourt. This morning one of this character
was asked :
" Did the occurrence take place in t-lii.*
city ?"
" Xo, he get's trunk," was the answer.
" I did not ask you that," continued tho
prosecutor. I want to know whether the pris
oner committed the act in this city."
" Xien, nien," exclaimed the witness," lie <1 *
it mit a knife stuck in him first by der head ot
mine fraw—yaw, das ish hiui !"
He was ordered to stand aside.— Cin. Tim-, .
a©-The quickest way to make eye-water iz
to run your r.ose against a lamp post.