Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, May 20, 1858, Image 1

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    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,
• '.uhvalla<ler. Klihu ;
ci.k into Bark-dale's bread-basket walked Potter's one,
two—hard and heavy;
•ark-dale fetched wind in a trice, dropped Grow and let
' tit at Klihu.
Then like a fountain had flowed the claret of Washburne
the chler,
art f'irr.idwalladcr's care —Cadwallader, guard af his
brother,
KiH' tg at!kirk-dale's nob, into Chancery soon would
have drawn it.
ff e!Uis it then for Dark "dale, the wig that waved over
hi- forehead:
' Jia (.'ailwalladcr's hands it came, and, the wearer re
leasing,
•?fit the ' rmipicrcr naught but the scalp of the bald
headed ftnmn
■Tttewhiie. hither and thither, a dove on the waters of
trouble,
M.-vf. ott, tnibl as new milk, with his grey luir untkr
hi- broad-brim,
"M'i inc peace to deaf ears, and getting considerably
damaged.
'sst: ;sc vmle in tire rear, as doubious what it might
come to,
"as iis'i, ,1 a -time-ware s[rittoon 'gainst whoever might
, _ -•■ era to deserve it—
it mattered to him whether Pro or Anti-Lecomp
ton,
"'but he found iu the Hall a focrnan worthy his wea
pon !
t.igiil this battle of men, till iuto the thick of the
Wf/ff,
sac to ti lt . heralds of old, stcp|>ed 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 <iti
zen? and 100, WO slaves. The Temple of IKT
plios was mi rich in donations that it was plun
dered of fifty millions of dollars, and Nero
carried away from if 200 statutes. The wal's
of Rome were 13 miles round.
A Promising Tih-oi.ok.ian. —A young and
fresh convert about to enter a theological sem
inary in the promising city rf R was pros
cut at a sin ill party. In the course of the
evening a discus-ion arose in regard to the or
thodoxy of Pope's E say on Man. Aft-r a
while the voting theological candidate was ap
pealed to. to settle the question at issue Know
ing but one Pope, whom he regarded with holy
horror, the Man of Sin, he at onre put an end
to nl] controversy by tin* assertion that the
Pope might be a v. ry two writer, hut he is
the greatest tyrant that ever sat upon the
throne."
E£y~ Health i the c rent est of all bodil'
vlmmius Int the K. t thotujd "'I