I ;s PER AM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
ITOWANIDA.:
. V,; fllornmj, Angnsl 13. 1858^
jetkettb |lottn;.
[From the Masonic Beview.]
A CUP OF COLD WATER."
FT MB*. SOPHIA 11. OLIVER.
me a utctv. t-eaten road
Neath India's burning sky.
A ,re n the jhngle deep and wild
scorching sunbeams lie:
r,- -weet sound of laughing floods
Breaks <m the solitude,
kind hand from a prostrate tree
Hath hewed a cistrrn rude.
V..J |, er ,.. 'tis -aid a Hindoo conies
U the first dawn of day,
I, th pure, sparkling water fills
the tr'Ugh beside the way.
V ,ie tu mark, no flattering lip
TO prai- the generous deed ;
his hand supplies
The thirsty traveler's need.
'<! ws not whom his act may bless,
I. :t wt iiiiu on his way,
I .>.: stream bubbling in his breast,
.hat -beers tlie toilsome day.
• \ r that seeks another's good,
Aad asks uot man's regard ;
e'rrtul law of Heav'n decrees
t.i ,t own reward.
' \ the way-worn caravans
; tin- istorn rude,
v.; vt the burning brow* and hands
1 the refreshing flood.
, --i: g him. whose love has been
I ~\e the descending dew ;
< -hi' \ the c ' delicious draught
Again their path pursue.
Oh' ' g essence of the faith
That Mason lips profess ;
: i!)J w tlini the luart that prompts
. . ....lid. to a. t - llult UfsS.
\ lie. v. set-- •;o h hidden spring
F- in h. u the a. tiotis ri-e.
s'.ah *n the Hind'"'- generous deed
A worthy -acrifiee.
(Original Clll.
Witirri . FOB THE BaeOF.IRO REPORTER.
THE FAITHLESS.
I the town of W , and county of I.—,
i the family of LAMBERT HAZI.FHCR.ST,
• -* of the parents and five children ;
- - i.. 1 . at? daughter. Mr. Hazlehurst
. tiller of the ground," and the products
- ' -applied all the necessaries, and many
: of life. The sons were named
' • v, Edward, Albert, Jasper L. and
•j W Edward, the eldest, married at
twenty-three, and chose theoecupa
i farmer. Albert, at the age of twen
.. I--, . f r a whaling voyage, and after
• ir- of t >1 ami hardship, returned to be
- -■ !•>< i>> a brother long since dead.
I n :', hi 1 from early youth shown
: . reference for study, ami his father,
" > ; cult.rating his sou's love of kuowl
- ; i f him at school, where his talents
;;- rv won f<r him the highest honors
i*s. while his kind and obliging inan
iere 1 him a favorite with ail. Wil
d . i\ the youngest of that band of
■s, vis a well grown youth of twenty,
v- 1 his father in the cultivation of
'■- r Lrm.
A : vrx that we com? to speak of the
- U 1 niter, little Ruth, or " Ruthy,"
' parents lovingly called her, we are at a
v:> proceed. We would not have our
- -upp.yse her a paragon of grace or
ier would we wish tliera to think
* a- mcultivated or uot possessing those
' ' haracter which make a lovely woman
• v'.-r, we would have you think of Ruth
rst i- a modest, gentle maiden ; too
- • -r 'I herself to suspect deceit iu oth
> e had s.-en the light of seventeen sura
■ u- -inall in stature, with a slight, but
} -y : metrical figure, light auburn hair,
ey and a face whose chief attrac
*-• the pretty dimple which always ap
• " • M the attendant of a smile. Very plain
Bath. But uo one " knew her but
er," and to those gray-headed parents
- ly brothers, was she a dear and cher
-,J-tr-a-are.
■ r seventeenth birth-day, lluth had
"irneyed beyond the limits of the town
she was born, but had lived rather a
v i.;\- at the old farm house, varied
"a< mal visits of distant relatives.—
•" of a mild September day, while
' •- of our heroine were seated at an
' * . low, enjoying to the full the delicious
its fanned their brows, a step sound
• -V graveled walk, and came into view
i- mined hat of their Quaker neigh-
B card Collins. " A letter for thee,
Lirn ert,'" aid the Q laker ; " my son,
, t>t brought it from the office, aud I
Jt thee would be pleased to have it, ns I
is postmarked Laurens, thy native
Yes, yes, neighbor Collins," said
B - " right glad are we to see tbe little
~ "<iger, aud thank you kindly."
1 withdrew, and Mrs. Hazlehurst ira
*:n.T brought a light, and again seating
: to he; arm chair, waited patiently her
husband's reading of the letter, it was writ
ten by a sister of Mr. ll.'s, and contained nn
urgent request from that lady for her brother
and sister Hazlehurst to permit their daughter
to come to Laurens, and spend some months
in the home of her aunt. Mrs. Randolph was
tne only sister of Mr. H., an amiable and ac
complished lady, blessed with an excellent hus
band and an ample fortune. No child had
ever gladdened their union, and their love went
out towards the only daughter of their only
brother, and prompted the wish to have her
with them for a season.
Ihe fond parents talked long and earnestly
on the subject, but without deciding. Ituth
was never absent for any considerable peri >d
from the home circle, and the thought of sepa
rating her from them for several months, was
really a painful one. At last it was settled 1
that Ruth herself should decide the matter,and !
if she chose to go they would not object. But j
where, in the m antime. was the object of their
thoughts ? \N ere you to have looked in at ;
the open door of widow Merideth's poor cot- i
tage, you might have seen her sitting at the :
little west window with an open bible on her '
lap, striving to catch the Inst rays of light ;
which came but dimly through the cracked and !
dusty panes, that the heart of that poor lone
one might be comforted by Rod's precious pro
mises. At a later hour, Ruth might have been
seen aiding the tremulous hands of age, in dis
robing and placing gently on tier bed,the bow
ed and feeble form. Her mission of love ac
complished, Ruth placed on her arm the bas
ket in which she had brought some little deli
cacies for the widow, and calling her dog to
her side, bade the old woman good night, aud
took her way home, breathing a prayer of
thanksgiving to the good God, who had given
her kind friends aud a pleasant home Ruth
observed, as she entered the room where her
parents were sitting, that something had oc
curred to disturb their serenity, and &nxiou*lv
inquired the cause. Upon being made ac
quainted with her aunt's proposal, she express
ed surprise, and said she must defer her decis
ion for a little time.
The following day she told her parents she
had concluded to accept the invitation. Ac
cordingly, three weeks later, Ruth, in company
with Iter brother W illi&m, set out 011 her jour
ney. The distance was about three hundred
miles, but by the aid of that mighty agent,
sUint, they were landed in safety at their aunt's
door at the close of the second day. Ruth
was delighted with everything about her aunt's
.
house, and tiie weeks, passed iu visiting, ram
bling or in-door amusements, flew rapidly by.
Social parties were given hv Mrs. Randolph,
and returned bv her neighbors, so that Ruth
saw much of the people of Laurens, and was
well pleased to form acquaintances among
them.
It was at one of these parties that Ruth first
■
met Edgar Winthrop. a hfhelor of twentv
-1
eight, with a good share of personal attrac
tions, and possessing a moderate fortune. lie
was a native of Laurens, and had spent the
years of his majority abroad ; sometimes tra
velling in the capacity of agent for some fir in
in an eastern city, but more frequently intent
on the gratification of his own unhallowed pas
sions. He had mingled much in society, was
versed in the art of saying foolish nothings to
the vain and foolish fair ones : ami with equal
ease could he win the attention of, and inter
est, the wise and virtuous. He was in short,
aj ' A htd rUlian. He had returned to his na
tive village for the purpose, he said, of visiting
•an aged grand-parent and maiden aunt, who
resided there, and to look once more upon the
graves of his parents ; but those who knew
him be*t, believed it was rather to seek fresh
pleasures, aud carry on new flirtations, that I c
earae.
Ruth in her youth and innocence, attracted
the attention of the heartless Edgar, and im
mediately an introduction was sought aud gaiu
ed. Rides aud promenades succeeded ; in all
of which Edgar and Ruth joined, and iu every
instance Edgar appeared as Ruth's attendant
Life began to wear a new aspect to the gentle
girl. All her life accustomed to give and re- j
ceive sincerity in word and deed, the thought
of deceit never entered her pure miud.and with
a joy which only the pure and good may know,
she believed herself beloved, and yielded in re
turn the true and holy affection of her guileless
heart. Aud he to whom she gave her young
heart's affection, was all unworthy of the price
less treasure.
At the time of leaving home. Ruth believed
it would be impossible for her to remaiu the
time which her aunt had named, but in the (
enjoyment of her new-found happiness, she
took but little note of time, and was much sur
prised to receive a letter from home, expressing
a wish for her return In the early patt of <
April. Ruth returned to her parents.
Edgar had left for the West, two weeks pre
vious ; and when, at parting, Mrs. Raudo'ph
witnessed the agitation of her niece, a suspi
cion of the truth crossed her mind, but as Ruth
had uever mentioned her attachment to her,
and (an unusual circumstance,) even rumor
had not reported, if, she dismissed it si once
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" RESAEDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
W iuthrop had hinted to Ruth that their en
gagement might be a long one, aud exacting a
promise of secrecy from her, as a means of
maintaining it, suggested that no epistolary
correspondence be carried on between them.
This was a sore trial to Ruth ; but loving and
trusting with her whole heart, she assented,
and burying her love deep in the recesses of her
heart, went to her outies, none suspecting its
existence.
The only means which Ruth had of hearing
from her lover were by means of a friend of a
correspondent of his For a time all was well
—but at length came rumors of fraud and de
pravity in various forms. Last of all came the
tale of a maiden's shame, and in connection
therewith was breathed the name of Edgar
\\ iothrop 1 Ruth, like the pure, true-hearted
oue was, believed the loved one an inno
cent and injured man, aud waited patiently a
confirmation of her hopes from Lis own lips,
never dreaming of the blight which was to wi
ther her hopes. It came at last ; came too,
when the heart was all unprepared to meet it,
glowing as it was with love and anticipation.
Oh, ye worldings ! ye prudes ! ye who think
and speak of love as Llenl, ye should have wit
nessed the desolation and despair which its in
terruption brought to that devoted heart.—
\\ hen fully convinced of E Igar's unfaithful
ness. Ruth wrote him that he must consider
the ir engagement at an end, for never would
she again see or receive aught from one so ut
terly unworthy as himself. It may readily be
supposed that this intelligence caused Edgar
no grief, for lie never loved Rath, but it woun
ded his pride and irritated him to be dismissed
by her. As none were made acquainted with
the engagement, so none knew of its termina
tion, and poor Ruth locked within her own
bosom the anguish which threatened to crush
her, striving to appear with her wonted cheer
fulness ; but the uprooting of that life which
had been to her so much of joy, and to which
she had yielded unhesitatingly, proved too
much for even her self-control, for the effects
were visible in shattered nerves and an enfee
bled frame. Affectionate friends came round
her, suggesting various remedies, change of
climate, Ac., to all of which Ruth replied that
she was very well, and smiling faintly, bade
them dismiss all fears. I? it the destroyer was
there, and not until the fair fabric was over
thrown would he relinqu'sh his hold.
And Rath was prostrated. One and all
wondered as to the nature of that power which
had so suddeuly overwhelmed poor Ruth. But
the unconscious object claimed their attention,
and with the exclamations " strange !" " won
derful !"' they ceased to conjecture After
many days of death-like stupor, consciousness
came slowly back to the tortured and heart
sick girl. Though grateful for the loving kind
ness of friends, she felt in her inmost soul that
they did her no kindness in restoring her to
consciousness. The anguish of her soul had
not yet passed, and the bruised and bleeding
heart yet clung to the earthly love, and refus
ed to be comforted.
Time, and the constant, care of affectionate
friends, restored the hue of health to the fad
ed cheek, and strength to the feeble frame ,
but happiness dwelt not in the heart made de
solate by the blighting of its dearest hopes,
and Ruth, with all her fortitude and pride,
was little better than an automaton. It may
be that her mother, with a woman's keen jar
•eption, devised the secret of her daughter's
unhappiness, but she never hinted her suspici
cious, and Ruth believing the secret known
ouly to herself, guarded it with jealous care.
A year had passed. Time, tho it brought
not the deep full happiness which she felt iu
loving, and believing herself loved, brought
peace and quiet; while the removal of her af
fection, which she now acknowledged to her
self was idolatrous, had taught iicr to look
away from earth, and its fleeting joys, to the
Source of Light and Life, even God, our Fa
ther.
It was at this time that Ruth was again
addressed, ar.d by a gentleman of worth ; one
who could appreciate the bpautv of a charac
ter like hers, and cherish as a sacred thing the
affection of her noble heart Ruth felt that
sue dd not love him. and grieved over the fact,
for she respected him for his many virtues,and
would have doDe or suffered much for his hap
piness. One evening she accepted an invita
tion from the gentleman in question to attend
a social party at the ! onse of a mutual frieud
During the evening, while standing alone, and
partially hidden from view, engaged in exam
ining some j>encii sketches, her attention wa>
arre-ted by an unusual bustle at the entrance,
and farther extremity of the room. As the
crowd surrounding the entrance parted, the
well-known form of Edgar Wiuthrop met her
astonished vision, and so unlooked for was bis
appearance, and so overwhelming the fact that
she stood in the same room, and within a few
paces of the being site oace so rapturou.-'v lov
ed, that she was obliged to summon all her
forces of mind and body, to maintain any de
gree of self possession. Fortunately she was
alone, and when her hostess came np, and ad
diessing some playful remark to her, bade her
be ready to welcome their strange guest, she
was able to reply in a tolerably steady voice.
When they came to lead her forth for the in
troduction, it required all Ruth's courage and
ingenuity to frame nn excuse, but she plead
so earnestly to be left alone, that her request
was granted. Poor Rnth-1 After having
striven so long and earnestly to tear from her
heart the image of the loved, but faithless one,
and when she thought she had come off con
queror, to be thus robbed of her victory ! Tru
ly did she believe that every sentiment of love
or respect for the guilty oue, had been banish
ed from her heart, but one glance at that face
convinced her of her error, and sent her, in
deep humility, to her closet, to atk of God
strength to bear, and not repine.
The sight of him who once possessed her
love, revealed to her conscious heart, the secret
of all her coldness to her present suitor ; and
she shuddered to find herself recalling the Wis -
ful emotions which his coming was wont to call
forth. At an early hour Ruth left the scene
of trial, and when alone at home, threw her
self in an agony of grief upon her bed, and in
the loneliness of her deep grief, prayed to be
delivered from the anguish which was consum
ing her. At length she grew calm, had yield
ed to the approach of slumber. She arose the
following morn, very calm, bnt her pale, sweet
face bore trace* of the last night's conflict.—
From that last trial, Ilutli came out purified ;
and wlien three months later, she gave her
hand to her devoted admirer, she felt that her
heart could safely trust in him. She could not
give to him her first pure affection, but she
give him what he prizes equally as much :
the love of a heart chastened and subdued by
the fiery trials it had borne, and now filled with
gratitude to the God of mercy, who led her
from tlie darkness which surrounded her, int ">
marvellous light. And he who won the love
of faithful hearts, or.ly to cast them from him,
was killed in a duel, by the brother of a young
girl, who fell a victim to the seducer's art*.
Thus perished at the age of thirty-five, one
who might have been an ornament to society
and to his sex ; an honored and honorable
man ; but who walked after the lusts of the
fi<'*li, and descended to an unhonorcd and un
hallowed grave.
WAI.KIXO. —Of all forms of exercise, walk
ing i* the most useful, as it brings into play
the greatest number of muscles, without un
natural strain upon any. It also leaves free
scope to the external senses, while allowing a
-imult ineous occupation of the mind. Anoth
er advantage is, that it admits of complete
regulation, both in degree and duration, ac
cording to the strength, time, or wishes of each
individual. Those who have weak lungs or
heart, roust be satisfied with gentle, walking,
and on level ground. Although conducive to
mental activity, it is often advisable to keep
the mind free from severe and sustained thought
when walking. Hence the advantage of a
companion with whom cheerful conversation
can be kept up, or of observing surrounding
objects, whether in town or country,*o as to di
vert the mind from study and care. The pur
suits of natural history are good in thi* way.
and hence also the chief hygienic effect of
shooting and field sports, excitement and di
version of mind accompanying the actual exer
cise. Those who are engaged, where the dwel
ling and place of business are at a distance
from their place of residence, ought to walk
at least part of the way, both in the morning
aud afternoon, if confined within doors during
the day. Literary and professional men ought
to walk more than they generally do. The
time i* not lo*t, as tiie mind will always be re
vived to work with greater energy. The brain
will do as much work in one hour, when there
i* iftine flow of pure oxygenat- d I ood, in in
double the time when the nervous syt>-m is
exhausted, and the veins congested with dark
blood Artificial stimulants my quicken
thought for a time ; but their eff-ct dniunisi.-
ing by habit, the quautity ha* to be increased,
and iujun in other ways is done to the system
llow THE BOYS FOOLED THF. OLD GENTLE
MEN — lie was fat aud on horseback. They
nmde him believe that a crm-k he hid just
come to (it was in Alabama, was so deep his
horse would have to swim it. The Col. >lowlv
divested himself of coat, boots, pantaloons and
drawers. These he nicely tied up iu his
handkerchief and hung them on the horn of
his saddle, then he remounted, and a* he was
a short fat man, with a panueh of rather in
ordinate size, rather inedeqnate Ug*, a face
1 ke a withered apple, and a brown wig, there
is no doubt he made an interesting picture as
he bestrode his steed, with tiie breeze holding
gentle dalliance with the extremity of his ouly
garment.
Slowly aud cautiously the old gentleman
took the creek. Half a length and the water
was not fetlock deep. Here the horse slopped
to drink A length and a half, and the stream
was no deeper. Thirty feet farther aud a
decided shoaling.
Here Col. I) reined to.
"There must," said he, " be an awful deep
channel between this aud the ba k—see how
it runs. We'll dash through here."
A sharp lash made the horse spring the
watery waste, arid another carried the hor?e
and rider to the opposite bank.
The creek was uo where more than a foot
deep.
A wild yell from the yonng'tins annonnced
their approbation o? the sport as they gallop
ed aw ay with tbe Col. after them imprecating
ferociously, but they got off aud left him grum
bling and dressin? hinre l ? by the road. de
tF rom the 1/ ndon Pamphlet J
Rarey's Great Horse Taming Secret,
First. ThAt he (the horse) is so constitut
ed by nature that he will not offer resistance
to any demand made of him which lie fully
comprehends, if made in away consistent with
the laws of nature.
Second. That he has no consciousness of
his strength, beyond his experience, and cat.
be handled according to our will, without force.
Third I'liat we can, in compliance with
the laws of his nature, by which he examines
ali things new to him, take any object, how
ever frightful, around, over or on him, that
does not inflict paiu, without causing him to
fear.
The horse, though possessed of some facul
ties superior to man's, being deficient in rea
sonitig powers, has no knowledge of right or
wrong, of free will aud independent govern
ment, and knows not of any imposition prac
ticed upon him, however unreasonable these
impositions may be. Consequently, lie cannot
come to any decision as to what he should or
should uot do, because lie has not the reason
ing faculties of m in to argue the justice of tiie
thing demanded of him. If he ha 1 taken in
to consideration li s superior strength, iiu would
be useless to a man as a servant.
Every oue that has ever paid any attention
to the hor*e has noticed his natural inclina
tion to smell everyiliing which to him look
new and frightful. This is his strange mode
of examining everything. And when he is
frightened at anything, though he looks at it
sharply, h • seems to have uo confidence in th:-
optical examination alone, but must touch it
with his no-e before he is entirely satisfied :
and as soon as this is done, all is right.
We might very naturally suppose, from the
fact of the horse's applying In* nose to every
thing new to him, that he always does so for
the purpose of s.mc'li.ig these object*. But I
bebeve that it is a- much or more for the pur
pose of feeliug. and that he makes use of his
nose or muzzle fas it is sometimes called) as
we would of our hands ; because it is the on
ly organ by which he can touch or feci any
thing with much susceptibility.
We know, from experience, that if a horse
sees and smells a robe a short distance from
him, he is very much frightened. (unle-s he is
used to it) until he touches or feci* it with his
nose : which is positive proof that feeling is
the controlling sense in this case.
It is a prevailing opinion among horsemen
generally that the sene of srn<-ll is the govern
ing sense of the horse : and Foticher. a* well
a- others, has, with that view, got up receipts
of -irong smelling oil*. Ac , to tame the horse,
sometimes using the chestnut of his legs, which
they dry, grind into powder, and blow into his
nostril*, sometimes using the oil of rhodium,
origanium, Ac., that are noted for their strong
smell : and sometimes thrv scent the hand
with the sweat from uud r the arm. or some
times blow their breatii into his nostrils, Ac. :
all of which, u< far as the scent goes, have no
effect whatever in gentling the horse, or con
veying any idea to his mind : though tiie acts
that accompany these tffur's—handling him,
touching him alrout the nose and head, and
patting him, as they direct you should, after
administering the articles, mav have a great
effect, which they mistake to be the effects of
the ingredients used
Now reader, can yon or any one else give
one single reason how scent can convey any
idea to the hor.-c's mind of what we want him
to do ? If not, then of course strong scents
of any kind are of no avail in taming the un
broken horse.
In order to obtain perfect obedience from
any horse, we mu-t first have him fear u*, for
our motto is, Fear, / rr and obey ; and we uiust
have the fulfillment of the first two before we
can expect the latter : for it is by our philoso
phy of creating fear, love and confi !< nce. that
we govern to our will every kind of hors
whatever. I should not want, for mvself,
more than half or three quarters of an hour
to handle any colt and have him running about
in the stable after me ; though 1 v. < aid adi *e
a new beginner to take more time and not be
in too niqch of a hurry. When you have eu
tered the stable, stand -till, an i let your hor--
look at you for a minute or two, and as soon
a* he is settled in one place, approach him
slowly, with your arms statimiarv. v ir right
hand hanging by vour side, holding the whip
as directed, and the left bent to the elbow,
with the hand projecting. A* you npprou li
him. go not too near his head or croup, -o a
uot to make him move either backward or f >r
ward, step a little to the right or lift, verv
caut.ou.-ly ; this wiil keep lam in one place
A* you get very near him, draw a little to ln>
shoulder and st.p a few seconds. It yaw are
very near him, he wiii turn hi* In ad and -ineil
your hand, not that he has any preference for
your hand, bat because that is projecting, and
i* the nearest portion of your body to tiie bone
Tiiis all colts wiii do, and they will smell yonr
naked hand j:i*t as quickly us they will of
anything that you can put in it, and with jm^•
as good an effect, however nnn :i some men
may have pi cached the doctrine of taming hor
ses by giving the animals the scent of articles
from the hand. I have already made it aj>-
pear that that notion is a in stake.
A* si M*n as he touches his no-.: to your hand,
cares.- him as before direct' 1, always with a
very soft light hand, merely touching th. horse,
always rublcng the way the lia : r lies, so that
your hand w.ll pass along a* smooth v as pos
sible. A* yon stand by - de. you may find
it more convenient to rub his neck or the side
of h.s head, which w.il answer the same pur
pose as runb'.ng his forehead. Favor everv
inclination of the her*e to touch or sind! voa
With h:s uo.se. Always follow each touch or
communication of ibis kind with the most ten
der and affectionate cares-es, accompanied
with a kind lock aud pleasant word of some
sort, such es " Ho ! mv little boy, ho ! roy
little boy I" " Prvtty boy !'* " Nice lady !'* or
something of t:e kind, constantly repeating:
the same words, with the same kiud, steady
tone of voice ; for the horse soon Icarr.s to
read the expression of tie face and the voice,
and wil! know as well when fear, love, an-
VOL. XIX. —NO. 10.
irer prevails as you know your own feelings ;
two of which—fear and auger—a good horse
man should never feel.
If your horse, instead of being wild, seems
to be of a stubborn or mulish disposition ; if
iie lays back his ears as you approach him, or
turns his heels to kick you, lie has not that re
gard or fear of man that he should have to
enable you to handle him quickly and easily ;
and it 111 ght he well to give him a few sharp
cu's with the whip about the legs, pretty dose
to the body, it will crack keenly as it plies
around his legs, and the crack of the whip will
affect him as much as the stroke ; besides, one
sharp cut a*Mjut the legs will affect him more
than two or three over his back, the skin 01
the inner part of his legs or about the Hank
being thinner ami more tender than ou his
back. Bui do not whip him much.
WHF.RF. MOSQUITOES COME FROM.— These
pens of summer proceed from the animalcules,
commonly called " wiggle-tail " If a bow! of
water is placed in the summer's sun for a few
days, a number of " wiggle tails " will be visi
ble, and they will increase in size till they
reach three-sixteenths of an inch in length, re
maining longer at the surface as they approach
maturity, as if seeming to live on influences
derived f rom the two elements of air and water
finally, they will assume a chrysalis form, and
by an increased specific gravity sink to the
bottom of the bowl. A few hoars only will
elapse, when a short black furze or hair will
erow out on every side of eueli till it assumes
tl e form of a minute citerpillar. Its specific
gravity being thus counteracted, it will readily
tlo.it to the surface, and be wafted to the side
of ilie bowl b\ the slightest breath of air. In a
short time a fly will be hatched and escajie,
leaving its tiny house upou the surface of the
water.
Any one wlfo has had a cistern in the yard
has doubtless observed the same effect, every
summer, although he may be ignorant of the
b- nutiful and simple process of development
If a pitcher of cistern or other water contain
ing these animalcules is placed in a close room
over night, from which all mosquitoes have
previously been excluded, enough mosquitoes
will breed from it during the night to give any
s i';sf .cov amount] >f trouble. In fact .standing
by n shallow, half stagnant pool on a midsum
mer'- d iv the full development of any number
of " w'ggle tails'' to the mosquito state ran be
witne-sed, and the origin of these disturiers
of irght's slumbers thus fully ascertained.—
Scientific American.
THE REST PHILOSOPHY. — The propriety of
cultivating feelings of benevolence towards our
fellow creatures is seldom denied in theory,
however frequently the duty may be omitted
in practice. It litis been recommended by the
eloquence of heathen philosophers, and enforc
ed by some extraordinary ex 1 tuples of heathen
philanthropy; but as the foundations on which
they built their beautiful theories of virtue
were narrow and confined, the superstructure
was frail and jierishabie, and never was the
true foundation discovered, till brought to
light by Jesus Christ. He first taught how
ti,e obstacles to benevolence were to be re
moved by conquering that pride, self-love, and
vait-_dory which had, till then, constituted a
part of the catalogue of human virtues. He
!ir-t taujit the universality of its extent, by
connecting it with the love of the common
Father and Benefactor of all, and made the
ove of our fellow-creatures the test and crite
rioa of our love to the Creator, while from true
devotion t-i the Supreme Being, he thought
that benevoleuce to man must uecessaraily
flow, lie likewise taught that upon all who
were conviui ed of these truths, and were
anxious to fulfil the divine commandments,
divine assistance would he bes'owed. He alone
ennobled virtue by the assurances ut an eter
nal reward.
MARRIAGE OX SHORT ACQUAINTANCE. — Tiiero
is no* a city, there i> scari-eiy a tow nship, which
|oes not number among its inhabitants women
who hare m irried on very short acquaintance,
on'y to be abused, deserted, and left a burden
u >(1 a life-long -orrow to their families in
which they were born and reared, and which
t i-y most imprudently and improperly desert
ed. to shore the fortunes of relative strangers.
If young ladies could realize how grossly in
•ielieate as well as culpabiv reckless such mar
rag s appear in the eyes of the observing,
they surely would forirear. A year's thorough
acquaintance, with the most circumstantial ac
count- from disinterested and reliable witnes
s's. of the antecedents from childhood, are the
very least guaranties which any woman wiio
realizes what marriage is, will require of a
sTung-r. Even then, if her parents are not
f; !v satisfied, ns well as herself, she should
sbil hesitate. Marriage is an undertaking in
which no delay can be so hazardous as uudue
precipitation.
£r f Nothing <0 much vexes a physician as
to 1h- -cut f-T in great Ita.-te, and to find, af
ter his arrival, that nothing, or next to noth
ing, is the matter with his patient. We re
member an "urgent rase" of this kind, re
c-ir ed of i n en.i .exit English sirgeou :
He had beeu sent for oy a gentleman who
had ju.-t received a slight wound, and gave bis
servant orders to go home with all ba<te im
a_' nahle, and fetch a certain plaster. The pa
tient, turning a little pale, said :
" Heavens 1 -ir, 1 hope there is no danger!"
" Indeed there is !" a i-wcred the snrgeoa ;
" for if tie* fellow does Jt ran like a race-horse,
the wound w- '! be healed before he can possi
bly get back."
*--2*" Melvin, the comedian, was a ?-en runi'
and fund of a game at whist. One day he
brought a bottle of choice brandy into the
green room, with his name and direction writ
ten on the ba. k of the sevrn of rlubs attached
to cue neck of the bottle. Mat hew*, observ
ing the liottle ou the table, said : "Are yo->
not afraid of 1 -ing that brandy !" "How so?"'
" Why, ot.e might come into the room
with the eijht of dub , aud take ;t,''