pjLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. jtinrs&flD **"2 20, 18S8. [From Punch.] • - FIGHT OVER THE DEAD BODY OF KEITT. (lS ao*tK"' TUE WAS UINUTONIAI,.) ,I c ,widens, the wrath, the ontamable dander of Carolina, the clear grit, the tall, the ou £titt t ,j_! ith wonped his own niggers till northerners I! FL TO* ll IL,U V U iin to Keitt k 1 is ni-'srers to wop, and hilli of the smallest po niß i: ®® 0 ''] ioul' was the fight on the Constitution of Kan ';VmiN-ed iuto dusk, and dusk into lighting of gas ptVlig" 1 1 ' " ' the floor ot the house the heroes unwearied were A - '.dates and tongues with excitement and ex toration. • Here becoming exhausted, find Representatives : to the war the anti-Lccomptonite phalanx? ( "hating straight from the shoulder, the Pennsyl- j * vania Slasher ; . .-.p, wed Hickman, and Potter the wiry, from woody j J 4 jod with his brother—"adwullader stood 1 with Klihu : ' g-oid Illinois sent the one, and woody \\ isconsiu the , . ,ne mild as new milk, with gray hairs under his ' broadbrim. I • • the lint chop location and water prtvilage near ' tyibVhis fathers of old on the willow-fringed banks of j , v . J .: l y!' ! \ >de,too, 1 saw, and Montgomery ready for r k-jin-t these to the floor led on the Lecomptonite •• s'mth Caroliiia, the clear grit, the tall, the on- Ke-tt aiid Heulieu Davis, the raa'l boss of wild Miss- WEARER of wigs, and Cralge from North Car olina 1 ~.. , ;. n ,i -corny McQueen, and Owen,aud Lovejoy,and | - amar ' .k . y -cut to the war. trrx /uncti in uno. '•ii raged the warfare of words; it was four in the ;v •• .J Vud cxpcctoiation and li'iuorin" ail were ex ffil, Koitt, ti'rrd of talk, bespake Reu. Davis, " 0 Rem - lff .-.irnation blackguard, and I've concluded to clinch him." P - said, up to his tect he sprang, and loos rung his choker, . , , -•rairiih'd himself for a grip* as a bar hunter down in rkansas ... - jtr* to go in at the bar, when the dangerous varmint is centered. C.meout, Oruw" he cried, "you I Mack Republican pUJ'I'V, Cum? on the flodf, like a ntan, and darn my eyes, but I'll show yoa—" Hman-wered -fright-hitting Grow, "Waal now, I cal lable. Keitt. No n.-'irer driver shall leave his plantation in £>iutti Car olina. Here 11 crack his cow-hide round this child s ears, if he knows it. - ' TAR •? had he -poke, when the hand, the Chivalrous five fingers of Keitt, C .t 'hed at his throat- had they closed, the speeches of Grow had been ended— Nevermore from a stump had he stirred up the free and enlightened— But though smart Keitt's mauleys, the mauleys of Grow were still smarter ; Straight troiu the sholdcr he shot—not Owen Swift or N'ed Adams Ever put in his right with more delicate feeling of dis tance. Aidr '|is hammer 011 anvil, so dropped Orow's right into Keitt Ja-l where the jugular runs to the point at which Ketch ties his drop-knot— Frew like a log sink Keitt, his dollars rattled about him. Forth .jiririg his friends o'er the body ; first, Darksdalc, wav ine-wig-wearer, Craiw and Mi Queen and Davis, the ra'al hoss of wild Mississippi ; Fier ely they gathered round Grow, catawamously up as lo chaw him ; Rut without l'otter they reckoned, the wiry from woody Wisconsin 5 lie. striking out right and left, like a catamount varmint aud vicious, I'l-htd to the rescue, and with him the NVashlmrnCS, • '.uhvallaed the Sergrant at-Arms raid the Speaker. •6?* A younjr friend of ours tells the fol story of himself :—When young, be ' ,a| J rear] the well-known story of George Washington's love of truth, and the father's we of tne noble principle of his son, so well mifested 0:1 the occasion referred to, of George's cutting down the cherry tree, ac- I edging his transaction, ond receiving a -. and free pardon, besides praises and kind tare **es from his father. So Jim, actuated by a noble example, thought lie would try the ! ou. He supplied himself with the -auhet, and going iuto his father's orchard, - down some choice fruit trees, lie then "'■ly sat down to await the old man's coui aod as soon as he made his appearance, bribed up to hiui with a very important air " acknowledged the deed, expecting the •T'- tiling t 0 | ie tears, benedictions aud ein- J ccs from the offended parent. But sad to -*ate, instead of this, the old gentleman caught ; a hickory aud gave him an " all-fired lam " l: e Jim was no Washington. fetf' The American Baptist says: "The pirate of conversions in connection with ' )a Ptist churches alone, during the month of - Ui rch is over 17,000. persons spend so much time in a d disputing about the Gospel, ; llL '.v have none left for practising it. As . * ( ' J "neu should quarrel about the pbraseolo ' their physician's prescription and forget Rattle Sf Lexington, April 19, 1775. At the meeting of the New York Historical society, on Tuesday evening, the 6th, Mr. Ban croft read a paper on the battle of Lexington, April 19th 1775, being in substance a chap ter from his forthcoming history of the revolu tion. The near approach of the anniversary of that initiatory fight, from which have sprang such vast events gives peculiar interest at this time and in this community to the eloquent sentences of the learned aud laborious au thor On the afternoon,he said, of the Bth of April, the day on which the provincial Congress of Massachusetts adjourned, Gage took the light infantry and greuadicrs off duty, aud secretly prepared an expedition to destroy the colony's stores at Concord. But the attempt had for several weeks been expected ; a strict watch had been kept ; and signals were concerted to announce the first moveineut of troops for the country. Samuel Adams and Hancock who had not yet left Lexington for Philadelphia, received a timely message from Warren, and in consequence, the committee of safety re moved a part of the public stores and secreted the cannon. 011 Tuesday, the 17 th, ten or more sergeants in disguise dispersed themselves through Cam bridge and further west, to intercept all com munication. In the following night, the grena diers and light infantry, not less tlian eight hundred ill number, the flower of the army at Boston, commanded by the incompetent Lieut. Col. Smith, crossed in the boats of the transport ships front the foot of the common to East Bridge. There they recived a day's provisions, and near midnight, after wading through wet marshes that are now covered by a stately town, they took the road through West Cam bridue to Concord. "They will miss their aim," said one of a party who observed the departure. "What aim ?" asked Lord Percy, who overheard the remark. " Why the cannon at Concord," was the answer. Percy hastened to Gage, who instantly directed that 110 one should lie suffer ed to leave the town. But Warren had al ready, at ten o'clock dispatched William Dawes through Roxbury; to Lexington, and at the same time desired Paul Revere to set oil' by way of Charlestown. Revere stopped only to engage a friend to raise the concerted signals, and live minutes before the sentinel received orders to prevent it, two friends rowed him past the Somerset man-of-war across Charles river. All was still as suited the hour. The ship was ridiug with the young flood, the waning moon just peered above a clear horizon ; while from a couple of lanterns in the tower of the North church, the beacon streamed to the neighbor ing towns, as fast as light could travel. A little beyond Cfharlestown Neck, Ilevere was intercepted by two British officers 011 horseback ; hut being himself well mounted, he turned suddenly, and leading oue of them into a clay pond, escaped from the other by the road to Medford. As he passed 011 he waked the captain cf the minute men of that town, and continued to rouse almost every house on the way to Lexington. The troops had not advanced far, when the firing of guns anil the ringing of bells announc ed that their expedition bad been heralded be fore them ; and Smith sent back to demand a reinforcement. On the morning of the 19th of April be tween the hours of 12 and 1, the message from Warren reached Adams and Hancock, who divined at once the object of the expedition. Revere, therefore, and Daws, joined by Samuel Prcsccrtt, " a son of liberty," from Concord, rode forward, calling up the inhabitants as they passed along, till in Lincoln they fell up on a party of British officers. Revere ami Dawes were seized and taken back to taxing lon, where they were released ; but Prescott leaped over a low stoue wall aud gailopped 011 for Concord. There, at about two in the morning a peal from the belfry of the meeting house called the inhabitants of the place to their town hall. They came forth young and old, with their fire-locks, ready to make good the resolute words of their town debates. Among the most alert was Wm. Emerson, the minister, with gun in hand, his powder horn and pouch for balls slung over his shoulder. By his sermons and his prayers lie iiad so hallowed the cnthasiasm of his flock, that they held the defence of their liberties a j>art of their cove nant with God ; his presence with arms prov ed his sincerity aud strengthened their sense of duty. From davhreak to sunrise, the summons ran from house to house through Acton. Lxpress messengers and volleys from minute men spread the alarm. How children trembled as they were scared out of their sleep by the cries . How wives with heaving breasts seconded their husbands ; how the countrymen forced sudden ly to arm, without guides or counsellors, took instant counsel of their courage. The mighty chorus of voices rose from the scattered faun houses, and as it were from the very ashes of the dead. Come forth, champions of liberty ; now free your country ; protect your sons arid daughters, your wives and homesteads : rescue the houses of God of your fathers, the franchise handed down by your ancestors. Now all is at stake the battle is for all. Lexington in 1775, may have had some 700 inhabitants, forming one parish, and having for their minister the fervent Jonas Clark, the bold inditcr of patriotic state papers that may yet be read of their town records. In Decem ber, 1772, they had instructed their represen tative to demand " a radical redress of their grievances, for not through their neglect should the pcoole be enslaved." later they spurned the use of tea. In 1774, at va rious! town mectings,they voted to increase their stock of aiumniuition," " to ineourage military discipline, and to put themselves in a posture of defence against their enemies.' In l*ecem ber they distributed to " the train band and alarm list" arms and ammunition, and resoh to "snpply ibe training band with bayonets. At two iu the morning, under the eye ot the minis'*'-, and rt f Hanc'k und Adains f 1 Vi V PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." ton Common was alive with the minute men ; and not with them only, but with the old men also, who were exempts, except in cases of im mediate danger to the town. The roll was called and of militia and alarm men, about oue hundred and thirty answered their names.— The Captain, John Parker, ordered every one to lead with powder and ball, but to take care not to be the first to lire. Messengers sent to look for British regulars, reported that there were no signs of their approach. A watch Was therefore set, and the company dis missed with an order to come together at beat of drum. Some went to their own homes ; some to the tavern near the southeast cor ner of the Common. Adams and Hancock, whose proscripton had already been divulged, and whose seizure was believed to be intended, were compelled by persuasion to retire tow.ards Woburn. The last stars were vanished from night when the foremost party, led by Pltcarin a Major of marines, was discovered advancing quickly and in silence. Alarm guns were fired, ond the drums beat, not a call to village hus bandmen only, but the reveille to humanity.— Less than seventy—perhaps less than sixty— obeyed the summons. And in sight cf half as many boys and unarmed men were paraded in two ranks a few rods north of the meeting house. llow often in that building had they, With renewed professions of their faith, looked up to God as the stay of their fathers, and the protector of their liberties. How often on that village green, hard by the burial place of their forefathers, had they pledged themselves to each other to combat manfully for their birth right inheritance of freedom. There t hoy now stood side by side, under the provincial banner with arms in their hands, silent and fearless, willing to fight for their privileges, scrupulous not to begin civil war, and as yet unsuspicious of immediate danger. The ground on which they trod was the altar of freedom, and they were to furnish its victims. The British van, hearing the drum and the alarm guns, halted to load. The remaining companies came up, and at half an hour be fore sunrise, the advance party hurried for ward at double quick time, almost upon a run, closely followed by the grenadiers.— Pitcairn rode in front, and when within five or six rods of the minute men cried out, "Dis perse, ye vidians ; ye rebels disperse ; lay down ! your arms and disperse ?" The main part of the countrymen stood motionless in the ranks, t witnesses against aggression; too few to resist, i too brave to fly. At this Pitcairn discharged his pistol, and with a loud voice cried " Fire!" The order was instantly followed, first by a few guns, which did no execution, and then, by a heavy, close and deadly discharge of musketry. In the disparity of numbers, the common was as a field of murder, not of battle ; Par ' ker, therefore, ordered his men to disperse.— Then, and not till then, did a few of them, on their own impulse return the British fire. These random shots of fugitives or dying men did no harm, except that Pitcairn's horse was, per haps, grazed, and a private of the lOth light infantry was touched slightly in the leg. John Parker, the strongest and best wrestler in Lexington ; had promised never to run from British troops ; and lie kept bis vow. A wound brought him 011 his knees. Having discharged his gun, lie was preparing to load it again, when sound a heart as ever throbbed for freedom was stilled by a bayonet, and lie lay 011 the post which he took at the morning's drum beat. So fell Isaac Mnzzcy, and so died the aged Robert Munroe, the same in 1738 had been an ensign at Louisburgh.— Jonathan Harrington, jr., was struck in front of his own bowse on the north side of the com mon. His wife was at the window as lie fell. With the blood gushing from his breast ho rose in her sight, tottered, fell again, tlienjcraw led on his hands and knocs towards ltis dwel ling ; she ran to meet him, but only reached nim as ho expired 011 their thresh hold. Caleb Harrington, who had gone into meeting house for powder, was shot as he come out. Samuel Hadley and John Drown were pursued and killed, after they had left the green. Ashael Porter, of Woburn who had been taken prisoner by the British, on the march, endea voring to escape, was shot within a few rod- 1 of the common. Day came in all the beauty of an early spring. The trees were budding : the grass runkly a full month before the time ; the blue bird and the robin gladdening the genial season, and calling forth the beams of the sun which on that morning shone with the warmth of summer; but distress aud horror gathered over the inhabitants of the peaceful town There 011 the green, lay in death the gray-haired and the young ; the grassy field was red " with the innocent blood of their brethren slain," crying unto God for vengeance | from the ground. Seven of the men of Lexington were killed; i nine wounded; a quarter part of those whostood 'in aruis on the green. These are the village heroes who were more than of noble blood pro ving by their spirit that they were a race di vine. They gave their lives in testimony to the right of mankind, bequeathing to their country an assurance of success in the strug ; gle which they began. Their names are held in grateful remembrance and the expanding : millions of their countrymen, renew and multi ply their praise from generation to generation. They fulfilled their duty not from the acciden tal impulse of a moment ; their action was the slowly ripened fruit of Providence and of time. The light that fed them on was com bined of rays from the whole history of the race ; from the traditions of the Hebrews in the gray of the world's morning; from tlfe heroes and sages of republican Greece and Rome ; frcm the example of Him who laid his life on the cross for the life of humanity ; from the religions creed which proclaimed the divine presence in man, and 011 this truth as in a life boat, floated the liberties of nations over the dark flood of tlie middle ages ; from the customs of the Germans transmitted out of their 10 rests to the councils of Saxon Tin gland; I from 'h' l burning faitl ay*. • of Mar!in Luther ; from the trust in the inevitable uni versality of God's sovereignty as taught by Paul of Tarsus, and Augustiue, through Cal vin, and the divines of New England ! frot" the avenging fierceness of the Puritans who dashed down the mitre on the ruins of the throne ; from the bold dissent and creative self-assertion of the earliest emigrants to Mass achusetts ; from the statesman who made, and the philosopher who expounded, the revo lution of England ; from the liberal spirit and analyzing iuquisitiveness of the eighteenth cen tury, from the cloud of witnesses of all the ages to the reality and the rightfulness of hu man freedom. All the centuries bowed them selves from the recesses of a past eternity to cheer in their sacrifice the lowly men who proved themselves worthy of their forerunners and whose children rise up and call tliem blessed. Heedless of his own danger, Samuel Ad ams with the voice of a prophet, exclaimed, " Gh ! what a glorious morning is this," for he saw that his country's independence was rapidly hastening 011 and, like Columbus iu the tempest, knew that the storm did but bear him the more swiftly towards the undiscover ed world. Mr. Bancroft concluded amid much applause and was unanimously voted the thanks of the society, which then adjourned. [From the Philafielplfia Bulletin, May I! | An Aiiti-Lecompton Sunday School. It is to be presumed that all the Sabbath Schools in Philadelphia are aiiti-Lecomptou, but the sentiments of one of them came out in rather an unexpected way last Sunday.— An occasion of unusual interest had brought a very full attendance on the exercises of the school, and iu honor of (he eent, the pastor or rector of the church, under whose care it is, delivered a capital address, which was rather oddly interrupted. He was giving tin* hun dreds of bright and intelligent little people, who eagerly listened to his simple and beauti ful address, reasons why tliey should love tire Saviour. He said : " Now children, you should love Him because He is a friend whom it is an honor to have. Suppose you should get a letter from some oue iu the penitentiary—would that be an honor ?" Of course al? the larger children said " AV" and the hundreds of younger ones echoed— " A r o, Sir!" " Well then," said the minister, " suppose Governor Packer would write to you—would that be an honor ?" The children, lartre and small, of course, shouted—" Yes, Sir /" "Now," pursued the speaker, "suppose Mr. Buchanan, the President, should write a letter to any oue of you—would you act esteem that a very high honor indeed ?" Here ensued an awful pause—the bright faces looked puzzled, the mischievous ones began to laugh, and the younger ones looked anxiously towards the elder scholars their cue. The taller boys looked at each other a moment and finally said, " Am, Sir arid every child iu the school, great and small, shouted out tnmultuously " -V3, Sii !" The f cachcrs all smiled and the speaker laughed outright, but recovering hiiusclt in an instant, he said " Why, children this is all wrong ! I like Mr Buchanan. So ought you; you ought to love everybody ; I had 110 idea of talking politics to vou," He then went ou to ask them if they would not like to re ceive a letter from Queen Victoria—" who certainly was a very estimable lady"—and the Queen of England not being involved in " Le coinpton," the children expressed the opinion that a letter from her Majesty would be an honor. The occurrence has furnished laughter to a large circle for two days, so wc violate no confidence in thus giving it to the public. PERI'ETI'AI. MOTION. —A Western eorrcspon ; dent of Harper's Magazine gets off the follow | ing " good one " 1 was traveling in Virginia by stage and spending the night at 11 country tavern, where I was greatly entertained by the talk of the ; gage drivers and others sitting around the bar room tire, in the evening. One old codger worded off a good thing ; " When I was down to the fair,a good many yeafs ago, there was a prize off red to the one who would come nearest to perpetual motion. All sorts of machines of all shapes aud mate rials, were fetched there and shown, and the marks of lliem told how long they would rim. As I was walking about among them, I saw a sign over a tent—" all who want to see jierpet ual motion, and 110 mistake, meet at this tent." So I paid the admission fee and went in.— Very soon a queer little man got on a box that served for a platform, and addressed the audi ! euce : " Ladies and gentlemen, I'm agoing to show you the most wonderful I est invention you | ever seen ; it's been rnnnin' for full three yeare and if any body stops it, it'll run for ever." And here lie enrolled a strip of paper. This is a " This is a Printers bi/t !" Aud as lie held it up (o the gaze of the people tlicy ad mitted, that whether llie bill was paid or not, they had all been sold." ANECDOTE OF IIKNUY CLAY. —The great ! statesman and orator was travelling somewhere "out West," aud pot up for the night at a country tavern. " Mine host," in looking over the register, discovered the name of Henry Clay.—There was but one " Clay." Could it | be possible that lie had this distinguished man under his roof. He was astounded, delighted Nest morning, as soon as the "great man" appeared the admirable Boniface bustled for ward, and made his rude bow. " Mr. Clay, I believe, sir ?" said he. "That is my name," said the gentleman in his affable tone. " Mr. Clay, the Congressman C " Yes, sir." I " Well, sir, I've hrtrei of yon, and I thought I'd just u?k if you wouldn't give me aud m\ oh! '!UAn a IdMe .-nefvh before von '• English Farming. Butler Abbey is the residence of Thomas Crisp, Esq., one of the most noted breeders of short-horned cattle, of swine, aud Suffolk cart horses in that part of England. I spent seve ral days under his hospitable roof, and gave his stock of animals a pretty thorough exami nation. He farms about 3,000 acres and has hundreds of cattle and horses and thousands of sheep. Perhaps a ride round the farm, for it is quite too large to walk over, may give an idea of a large farmer's affairs in that part of England. Sir. Crisp is like most farmers, a tenant, and not the owner of the land lie occu pies. These tenancies, usually I find, are not by a written lease, but by a sort of under standing, not quite definite enough for my taste, and regulated much by the customs of the particular estate. A large proprietor, Lord somebody,or the Ihikt of something,owns some T. 0,000 or 30,000 acres, which has been in the family a thousand years, or at least from the time of William the Conqnerer.— This proprietor usually gives no personal at tention to his estates, so far as the rents are concerned, but intrusts all such affairs to a steward, who makes bargains with the tenants and the lord of the domain sometimes does not even visit a farm in a generation ; the tenant occupies at a fixed rate, which lie pays half yearly in cash ; and although neither par ty is bound for more than the year, the ten ant often occupies for his lifetime ; and his son takes the farm at his decease. Landlords are willing to give long leases, but tenants seem to prefer the yca.ly system, so far as I have observed. The tenant farmer seems to go on and make the permanent improvements, often at great expense, and lays out his work as if lie owned the fee-simple ; and 011 the whole homes are more permanent in this land of mere tenants than in the land of fee simple owners, with mi gratory habits. The farmer pays a rent of (say) five dollars an acre annually for his land, and conducts his operations in his own way, provided he does not cut down trees, plough up any pasture 'and, or disturb the game, such as hares, partridges and pheasants, which go where they please, and do as much damage as they like, unmolested. A keeper—that is, a game-keeper—fives on the estate, whose business it is to protect the game, and catch the poachers who presume to touch these animals, which are held as sacred as the geese in Home's capital. The game laws are. and ever have been, a fruitless source of crime and suffering, and always will be, till human nature is thoroughly changed. On ev ery estate where I have been I have noticed with indignation the ravages of those useless animals called game in The fields of the finest wheat, while neither farmer nor laborer dares even drive them away, on penalty of ltis lord's displeasure, and the loss of his lease next year. I will say however, that properly viewed this waste of human food is not the loss of the far mer, but of the landlord, because land not subject to tbe preservation of game is for that reason leased at a higher rent. There are 110 large barns for grain and hay is the south of England as with us, but those products which we so carefully protect are never housed. 1 have discussed t lie topic a good deal with farmers here and they have reasons for their course 5 some 1 cannot ven ture to answer. They say tliey cannot afford the expense of barns, and that if they could, hay would heat aud burn Up by spontaneous combustion if put in them. The climate there is much more moist than ours, and I think the storms are not so violent. Ifav does not dry so readily nor injure so much in the stack as with lis, and, on the whole, if English tanners like their own mode best, we vfill find 110 fault with their judgment ; but I am sure it is poor economy for New Englandersto follow their example in that particular. The low price of labor and the high price of building material iu England make in favor of stacks and against barns. 111 Mr. Crisp's farmyard I saw an original cf the farm-yards in which tand.-.eer and Her ring and other painters of animals so much de light. Around in some order, though with no great regularity, are huge stacks of wheat, barley, hay, and straw, as large its goodly siz ed barns, all neatly thatched ami trimmed. There is a donkey, quietly meditating on the better condition of half a dozen cart-horses that are standing to their knees in straw, eat ing rye, grass and clover from tHe rack ; and there are a down black pigs, of two months, With their maternal relative, rooting about tlie feet of tire horses. Flocks of ducks are wad dling about iu the same yard, and liens and chickens mix into the scene hi crowds. A big dog is chained to the gate, and a smaller is barking to any stranger that approaches.— Under the long, tile-roofed shed a dozen carts keep company with as many long-handled, long-nosed, long-beamed ploughs. A stcaiu engine is pulling aw.ey, quietly and busily, with a thrashing machine. Two or three men arc passing up tin: sheaves from the lick, and two women on the top of the thresh er received it and untie the bands, while two more men arc pitching the straw ou to a new stack,about a.-i large and high up as a forty foot barn ; while 011 top of tbe same stack a boy is mounted ou a horse of near a ton weight, riding constant IT about to t read down the st raw, The horse aud rider icmind you of an equestrian statute on a very large pedestal ; ami as the horse i gradually rising higher and higher, you wonder how he is ever to get down again, seeing that thestai k is perpendicular on every side, and fifteen feet high already. Every where is straw a foot thick—about the yards, iu the stables, iu the cow stalls the great object seeming to be to tread it down for manure. We went down to the tide water which bounds one side ot the farm, and examined the embankment against the aea The embank ment extends 22 miles, and tbe " marshes, as the drained lands ure called, arc some ot the most valuable wheat fields I have ever seen. - 1 have since examined the " Lincolnshire feii\" and the mode ot diaimnj. by iinmeu 9 steam murines is well large traetl rechunnd from VOL. XV] 11. —3STO. 50. the sea elsewhere, and I feel safe in saying that the heaviest crops of wheat I have seen in England are upon three same fens and marsh es. Thev require a peculiar treatment, and a different rotation from the uplands ;• Imt the whole subject is well tindersfood and may he studied with advantage by all of us who live on the banks of rivers, or on the coasts of the Atlantic. rpon one part of the estate tfe found brick and tile works, where all the operations of making, setting, and burning drain tiles were going on. This is a subject which has espe cially occupied iny attention, and I have seen various machines in operation in several places, and have narrowly watched the methods of laying out the drains and laying the tiles. I aru more impressed with the importance of the subject to us at home. Much of our New England soil requires no draining, but much of our most valuable land, 1 am satisfied, would double in value, at small expense, by draining with tiles, when we can have them at a fair price and know how to use them. i have no! space now to speak particularly of the crops of wheat and other grain, nor of the culture of the root crops, nor of the mag nificent stock of cattle, swine and sheep, nor of the ploughing with those queer old ploughs, straight furrows for half a mile, such as 1 nev er saw in America. We have have had many talk about ploughs: but they have one argument in favor of their ungainly implement. Their work is far better than ours ; and it is because they have better ploughs, or hold them better, and our farmers and plough-makers may settle that question as they can. 1 have seen a man tu England with a yoke of oxen faefeued in collars like horses, with blinders on and bits in their mouths, guiding them with reins and holding the plough himself, striking out lands ciirbtv rod.' long with no stakes except at lite emjs, absolutely straight, so that I couid not see an inch variation in the distance. It is n common operation here to plough land into ridges for mangolds, drill four rows at a time with a horse-drill, and and when the crop is np to horse hoe four rows at once. Any per son who will consider this statement will per ceive that all the operations must be accurate to admit this treatment. 1 think bad plough ing is one of our national sins. Thf. S.iTiBATH. —Hut blessings, and ten thou sand blessings, be upon the day ! and myriads of thanks stream un to the throne of God, for this divine and regenerating gift to man. As I have rat in some flowery dale, with the sweetness of May around me on a week day, 1 have thought of the millions of immortal creatures toiling for their daily life in facto ries and shops amid the whirl of machinery, and the greedy craving of mercantile guiu and, suddenly, that golden interval of time lias !aiu before me in all its brightness—a time, and a perpetually recurring time, in which the iron grasp of earthly tyranny is loosed, and Peace, and Faith, Freedom, the angels of God, como down and walk once more among men ! Ten thousand blessings upon this day—the friend of men and boasts The bigot would rob it Of its healthful freedom, on the one hand, and coop man up in his work-day dungeons, ami cause him to work with down cast eyes and demurcd steps ; and the libertine would dese crate all its sober decorum on the Other. Let us still avoid puritan rigidity and French dissipation. Let our children, and our ser vants, and those who toil for us in vaults, and shops, and factories, have freedom to walk in the face of heaven, and the beauty of earth, for in the great temple of nature stands to gether health and piety. For myself 1 speak from experience, if has always been my delight to go out on Sunday, and like Isaac meditate in the fields ; and, especially in the sweet tran quility, and amid the gathering shadows of evening, and never, in temple or in cioset did more hallowed influence fall upon any heart. With the twilight and the rush of earth, a ton tie mess bad stolen Upon me—-a love for every creature on which God has stamped the won der of his handiwork—hut, especially, lor eve ry child of humanity ; and then I have been made to feci that there h no oratorioliko that which has heaven itself for its roof, and no teaching like the teaching of the Spirit, which created and still overshadows the world with its wing.— 1 loiri/f. I? F.MARK' ABf.K YPoRKS OF A RT. —NillOVeh was 14 miles long, S wide, and 40miles round, with a wall 100 feet high, and thick enough lor three chariots abreast. I'abylon was off miles within the walls, which were 75 feet thick and 10<> feet high, with a hundred bra /.en gates. The fcrnpfe of I'iana, at Kphesus, was 42t* feet to the support of the roof. It was a hundred years in building. The largest of the pyramids is tsl fret Ir'gb, and 7.>.'5 on the sides ; its base covers eleven acres. The stones are about, (iO feet in length, and the fnrrrs are 2<7N. It employed TH),00o men in building. The labyrinth in Egypt contains 300 chambers and I*2 halls. Thebes in Egypt, presents ruins 27 miles round, and 100 gates. Carthage was 27 miles round. Athens was 25 miles round, and contained 350,000