J(E DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA :
Thursday Morning, September 2, 1858.
A SABBATH NIGHT.
IJV GEORGE I>. PRENTICE. '
r .vE this holy time. The forest-leaves
,th the noi-eless Jews are bending low
faintly glowing in the starlight pale,
j f t ij e vision that came o'er their sleep
,v ofthe Spirit land. The mountain pine
Ji- hushed its melancholy music now,
> weary winds are .-lumbering in the heavens,
t keeping sacred vigils on the cloud,
fir flimmeriiig in the sunset all is still,
l a vethat the distant waves are murmuring low,
* K ea loot angel mourning his sad lot
sfexile from the blessed.
Tt is sweet,
it >uch an hour to wander out beneath
lit eternal sky. to gaze into its depths,
picture angel shapes on every star,
-ten to the mystic songs that seem
1,. Fancy's ear to wander down to earth
ft® the far gates of Eden, and to feel
'iedeep and gentle spirit that pei\ mles
The blessed air, sink like a holy sjiell
Upon lift-S doubled waters,
Hark! the bell
H'i nut the midnight ? How glorious
\jd vet how lonely is the face of things
.uthis still hour of musings ? Vale and hill.
* ndplain and stream, and lake and anrtfent wood
['ponthem like a mantle. O, I love,
On eves like this to kneel in solitude
At nature's shrine. The gentle dews that bathe
Mi-brow, seem God's own Uajiiism : and each voice
Tat speak- in mystic eloqumCe from sky,
ts! air. and earth, and ocean, calls the soul
T. mingle with the holiness of heaven.
tHEMILL.
! love the I.rimtftmg wave that w Am
riiruii.L'lt quiet meadows 1 omul the mill,
The sleepy pool above the dam,
The pool beneath it never stiU,
The meal-sacks on the whitened floor,
The dark round of the dripping wheel.
The Very air about the door
Made misty by the floating meal. [Tcnny.^MV.
i s (111a1 c 0 us.
BURNING AND BORTINO.
In the report of the medical officers of health
fir Loudon, we read that in the Victoria Dark
Cemetery, last year every Sunday, one hun
dred at.d thirty bodies were interred ; which
Let one of the medical journals expressed by
saying that there were sixteen thousand pounds
of mortal matter added on that day alone to
♦lt?already decomposing mass. At the time
when we were reading about such things, " A
Member of the Royal College of Surgeons,"
i-neda pamphlet upon an old subject of ours,
Hunting the Dead, or Urn Sepulture." Our
TO arguments upon that subject, we Itave used
■ ready ; but the surgeon proves to be a most
telligent ally ; and a brief statement of bis
snyimeiit may be of some service in these
titans. This is it :
Hie -oul of man is indestructible, and at
death parts from the body. Of matter, only
fie elements are, humanly speaking, indestruc
tible. The body of a man is made up of oxy
nitrogen and carbon, with small quanti
ties of phosphorn 3, sulphur, calcium, iron and
me other metals. By the law to which all
natter is subject, man's body, when done with,
'■ imposes into these elements, that they may
Vised for other purposes in uature. Can it
nutter to him whether the process be effected
rapidly or slowly ?
I pon the doubt as to the possibility of re
direction, when our bodies have been burnt
-tead of rotted, the surgeon lavs the balm of
'fits: "That which thou sowest, thou sow
not tke body that shall be," aud, "we shall
V changed." But he adds : those who claim
' 5 'nave hereafter the whole identical body
'ws again, must remember that iu life it
j-astes and is renewed, so that if every particle
Rt ever belonged to an old ram were returned
bifi, lie would get matter enough to make
ie he or twenty bodies. It is just possible
-otnebody may be comforted with a thco
*hicb the surgeon quotes in a note, that a
carries away with it out of the world, one
* 'Rt of matter which is the seed of the future
! .L and these seminal atoms not being here,
d not be included in our calculations about
wlr 'i, r s material.
; '' could, by embalming, keep the form of
/departed upon earth, that would be much;
W. for any such purpose, embalming fails.—
_ --'ay will use its effacing lingers. "In the
jM 'iimof the College of Surgeons in London,
' v seen the first wife of one Martin Van
atchell. who, at, her husband's request, was
filled by I)r. William Hunter aud Mrs.
ar penter, in the year seventeen hundred and
nty live. No doubt extraordinary pains
" taken to preserve both form and feature ;
: . Vet . what a wretched mockery of a once
"'■•}' woman it now appears, with its shrniik
-Ra rotten-looking bust, its hideous, toahog
/■'"lored face, and its remarkably fine set
-•tit! Between the feet are the remains
t a preen parrot—whether immolated nor not
... e death of its mistress is uncertain •*, but,
* 1 'fill retains its plumage, it is far a less re-
,v e object than the lurger biped." There
* tawsuit once, to try the right of a dead
"" !l : 'j an iron coffiu, when Lord Stowell de-
A " !t " contrivances that, whether in
( j ally or not, prolong the time of dissolu-
* /evuud which the common local nnder
•ug and usage have fixed it, form an act
".ustiee, unless compensated in some way
oti / Ui ® r " And when an irou coffin has been
bj, aft , er a ' u P se °f years, what haa beeu
A Chiefly dry grubs of worms and other
'!' ' iave U P OM the flesh. Socrates
N>! , ') ls friends, " Let it not be said that
' s carried to the grave and buried ;
A a '' ex l )r essi°n were an injury done to my
rj A' 1 Not very long ago a hardett
acrer, being told by the judge that his
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
body, after hanging, would be given for dissec
tion, said : "Thank you, my lord ; it is well
you cannot dissect my soul." We look upward,
when we stand beside the grave.
The surgeon replies to those who regard cre
mation as a heathen custom, it is not more
heathen than burying in holes. Sprinkling
i earth on the coffin is a heathen custom, based
upon a heathen superstition, but converted to
a Christian use. lie gives interesting illustra
tions of the use of urn-burial by many nations,
but reminds us that the cost of fuel was one
obstacle to its general adoption in old time.—
Ground was to be had more cheaply than the
materials necessary for the humblest burning,
wtieu it was requisite to burn on large piles in
the open air. "The Christians, however,"
says Sir Thomas Browne, " abhorred this way
of obsequies ; an d, though they hesitated not
to give their bodies to be burnt in their lives,
detested that mode after death." But what
ever reasons Christians had in the first days of
Christiauity against the burning of their bodies,
I they have left behind them no objection found
ed on permanent religious principles. We now
bury in graves, and build funeral urus iu stoue
as emblems.
The report of the French Academy of Medi
cine,upon the effect of cemeteries on the health
[ of Paris, has led France to the bestowing of
much serious attention 011 the subject of crc
inatiou ; and there is sober discussiou of the
plan of M. Bonneau, who proposes to replace
all cemeteries near great cities, by a building
called a Sarcophagus. "Thither the corpse of
both rich and poor should be conveyed, and
laid 011 a metallic tablet, which, sliding by an
instantaneous movement into a concealed' fur
nace, woithl cause the body to be consumed in
the space of a few moments."—Like a true
Frenchman, he Urges the bearing of his plan
on the interests of art, " for who would wish
to preserve the ashes of ancestors .'" The fun
eral urn may soon replace 0:1 our consols and
luantlepiecefl, the ornaments of bronze clocks
and china Vases found there. " This may seem
a misplaced pleasantry to English minds," says
the Kdinburg Medicif Journal, " but we can
not help being startled at reading the sanitary
report leading to it."
The surgeon then dwells briefly upon the
valid objection to the burning of the dead. It
destroys evidence in' case of secret murder.—
Now, the dead speak under the spells of the
chemist. If cremation be adopted, greater ac
curacy in the registration ami closer scrutiny
into each doubtful ease of death will be imper
atively called for. While we write this, a man
lies sentenced to death against whom the con
demning witness was the disiuterred corpse of
his methef,
The surgeon in his next chapter shows what
the pollutiou of a graveyard is. Over this fa
miliar ground we da not follow him, exeept to
take up the testimony of the French Academy
of Medicine, that no matter from what quarter
the wind blows, it must bring over Paris pu
trid emanations of Pere la Chaise, Montmar
tre, or Montparnasse, and the very water which
we drink, being imjwegnated with the same
poisonous matter, we become the prey of new
and frightful diseases of the throat and lnn'gs,
to which thousands of both sexes fall victims
every year. Thus, a dreadful throat disease,
which baflles the skill of our most experienced
m rdical men, and which carries off its victims
in a few hours, is traced to the absorption of
vitiated air into the windpipe, and has been
observed to rage with the greatest violence in
those quarters situated nearest to cemetries."
There need not be full smell iu poisoned air.
The deadly malaria of the Pontine marshes,
we are reminded blows soft and baimyfus the
•air of a Devonshire summer. In his last chap
ter, the surgeon shows how cremation of the
dead would give even increased solemnity to
the funeral service, and increased truth to the
words " ashes to ashes, dust to dust," iu the
centre of the chapel used for burial, lie would
erect a shrine of marble, at the door of which
the coffin should be laid—-so constructed and
arranged that at the proper time, by unseen
agency, the body should be drawn from it un
seen, into an inner shrine, where it crosses a
sheet of furnace flame, by which it would be
instantly rednced to ashes. Within the chap
el, nothing would be seen ; outside,there would
be seen only a quivering transparent ether,
floating away from the chapel spire. At the
conclusion of the service, the ashes of the dead
would be reverently brought, inclosed in a glass
vase, which might be again enclosed in a more
costly nrn for burial, for deposit in a vault, or
in a consecrated niche prepared for it after a
manner of those niches for the urns of the de
parted, which were called from their appear
ance, columbria—dove-cotes —by the Romans.
The Ashes of those who loved each other ten
derly, might mingle in one urn, if we would
sav :
" Let,not their dust he parted,
For their two hearts in life were single hearted."
There is nothing irreverent to the dead in
cremation. Southev expressed very emphati
cally, why a man might desire it for his friends: i
" The nasty custom of interment," he says,
" makes the idea of a dead friend more unplea
sant. We think of the grave, corruption and
worms. Burning would be much better." The
true feeling is that with which the surgeon
ends his pamphlet, using the words of Sir
Thomas Browne. " Tis all one where we lye,
or what becomes of our bodies after we are
dead, ready to be anything in the extasie of
beiug over."— Household Words.
You.\R, MEN PAY ATTENTION*. —Don't be a
loafer, don't call yourself a loafer, don't keep
loafer's company, and don't hang about loaf
ing places. Better work hard for everything
aud board yourself than sit around day after
day or stand at corners with your hands in your
pockets. Better for your own prospects. Bus
tle about, if you mean to save anything to bus
tle for. Many a physician has obtained a real
patient by riding bard to attend an imaginary
one. A quire of blank paper tied up with red
tape aud carried under a lawyer's arm may pro
cure him his first case and make his fortune.
Such is the world—to him that hath shall be
given. Quit droning and complaining, keep
busy and mind your chances.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
Wonders of the Human System.
Paley applauds the contrivance bv which
everything we eat and drink is made to glide
on its road to the gullet, over the entrance of
the wind-pipe without falling into it. A little
movable lid, the epiglottis, which is lifted up
when we breathe, is pressed down upon the
chinck of the air-passage by the weight of the
food and the action of the muscles in swullew
iug it. Neither solids nor liquids, in short, can
pass without shutting dowu the trapdoor as
they proceed. But this is only a part of the
safeguard. The slit at the top of the wind
pipe, which never closes entirely while we
breathe, is endued with a keen sensibility to
the slightest particle of matter. The least
thing which touches the margiu of the aperture
causes its slides to come together and the in
truding body is stopped at the inlet. It is
stopped, but unless removed, must drop at the
next inspiration into the lungs. To effect its
expulsiou the sensibility of the rim at the ton
of the wind-pipe actually puts into vehement
action a whole class of muscles placed lower
than its bottom, and which, compressing the
chest, over which they are distributed, drives
out the air with a force that sweeps the offend
ing substance before it. The convulsive cough
ing which arises when we are choked is the en
ergetic effort of nature for our relief when anv
thiug chances to have evaded the protective
epiglottis. Yet this property, to which we are
constantly owing our lives, is confined to a sin
gle spot in the throat. It does not, as Sir
Charles Bell affirms, belong to the rest of the
wind-pipe, but is limited to the orifice, where
alone it is needed. Admirable, too, it is to
observe, that while thus sensitive to the most
insignificant atom, it bears without resentment
the atmospheric currents which are incessantly
passing to and fro over its irritable lips. " It
rejects," says Paley, " the touch of a crumb of
bread or a drop of water, with a spasm which
convulses the whole frame ; yet, left to itself
and its proper orifice, the intromission of air
alone, nothing can be so quiet. It does not
even make itself felt ; a ruan does not know
that he has a trachea. This capacity of per
ceiving with such acuteness, this impatience of
offence,yet perfect rest and ease wheu let alone,
are properties one would have thought, not
likely to reside in the same subject. It is so
to the junction, however, of these almost in
consistent qualities in this as well as in some
other delicate parts of the body, that we owe
our safety and our comfort—our safety to their
sensibility, our comfort to their repose.
Another of the examples adduced by Bell is
that of the heart. The famous I)r. Harvey
examined, at the request of Charles 1., a no
bleman of the Montgomery family, who in con
sequence of an abscess, had a fistulous opening
into the chest, through which the heart could
be seen and handled. The great physiologist
was astonished to find it insensible. " I then
brought him," he says, "to the King, that he
might behold and touch so extraordinary a
thing, and that he might perceive, as I did,
that unless when we touched the outer skin, or
when lie saw our fingers in the cavity, this
yeug nobleman knew not that we touched Lis
heart." Y'et, it is to the heart that we refer
our joys, our sorrows, and our affections ; we
speak of it good-hearted, a hard-hearted,a true
hearted and a heartless man. Shielded front
physical violence by a outwork of boues, it is
not invested with sensations which ctuld have
contributed anything to its preservation, but
while It can lie grasped with the fingers, and
give no intimation of the fact to its possessor,
it unmistakably responds to the varied motions
of the mind, and by the general consent of
mankind is pronounced the seat of our pleas
ures, gifts, sympathies, hatreds, and love. Per
sons have frequently dropped down dead from
the vehemence with which it contacts or ex
pands npoa the sudden announcement of good
or bad news—Ps muscular walls being strained
too far in tbe upward ot- downward direction
to citable them to return—and one of the put
poses which this property of the heart is pro
baMy designed to subserve is to put a check
upon the passions through the alarming physi
cal sensations they excite.
The brain, again, is enclosed in a bony ease.
All our bodily sensations are dependent upon
the nerves, but even the nerves do not give rise
to feeling unless they are in connection with
the b-rain. The nervous chord which, in fam
iliar language, is called the spinal marrow, is
the channel by which this communication is
kept up as the major part of them, and when
the section of what may be termed the great
trunk road for the conveyance of our sensations
is diseased, and by the breach in its continuity
the nerves below the disordered part can no
longer send its accustomed intelligence to the
brain, the portion of the body which thus be
comes isolated may be burned or hacked, and
110 more pain will result than if it belonged to
a dead carcass instead of a living man. The
brain, therefore, in subordination to the mind,
is the physical centre of all sensation. Yet,
strange to say, it is itself insensible to the
wounds which are torture to the skin,and which :
wounds the brain alone enables us to feel. " It
is as insensible," says Sir Charles Bell, "as the
leather of our shoe, and a piece may be cut off
without interrupting the patient of the sentence
that he is uttering. Because the bone which i
envelopes it is its protection against injuries !
from without,it has 110 perception of tliein when '
directed against its own fabric, though it is at
the same time the sole source of the pain which
those injuries inflict upon the other portions of
the system. But the skull is 110 defence agaiust
the effects of intemperance, or a vitiated at
mosphere, or too great mental toil. To these
consequently the same brain which lias been
created insensible to the cut of the knife, is ,
rendered fully alive, and giddiness, headaches,
and apoplectic oppression give simple notice to
us to stop the evil, unless we are prepared to
pay the peualty. — London Quarterly.
We once looked with awe upon the
Kentucky giantess, eight feet high, lacking
two inches. She was about the only woman
we ever saw that wasn't in danger of marrying
beneath her.
Hi># Victoria's Daughter manages her
Household
The Berlin correspondent of the London
Daily Telegraph writes as follows:
The reserve maintained at the royal palace
has given rise to various rumors, which have
caused much delight to the good people here.
The heroine of the incidents I refer to is Prin
cess Victoria. Y'ou must know that on state
occasions there is comparatively little ceremony
observed here, while the everyday life of the
royal family seems to be regulated inore strictly
011 the principle of etiquette than that of
Queen Victoria. A Prussian Princess, for
instance, is not allowed by her mistress of the
robes to take up a chair, and,after Jiaving car
ried it though the the whole breadth of the
room, to put it down iu another corner. It
; was while committing such an act that Princess
Victoria was lately caught by Countess Per
poncher. The venerable lady remonstrated,
with considerable degree of official earnestness
"I'll tell you what," replied, nothing daunted,
the royal heroiue of his story—"l'll tell you
what, niv dear Countess, you are probably
aware of the fact of my mother being the
Queen of England ?" The Countess bowed in
assent. " Well," resumed the bold Princess,
" then 1 must reveal to you another fact.—
Her majesty the Queen of Great Britain aud
Ireland has not once, but very often, so far
forgotten herself as to take up a chair. I
1 speak from persoual observation L can assure
i you. Nay, if I am not greatly deceived, I
noticed one day my mother carrying a chair
in each hand, in order to set tliein for her
! children. Don you really think that my dignity
forbids anything which is frequently done by
1 the Queen of England!" The Countess bowed
again and retired, perhaps not without a little
astonishment at the biographical information
j she had heard. However she knew her office
and resolved to prove uot less staunch to her
duties than the Princess to her principles. A
sceue similar to the one narrated recently hap
pened, when Countess Perpoucher, on entering
one of the remote chambers, took the Princess
by surprise, while busily engaged iu the home
ly occupation of arranging and stowing away
a quantity of linen But all objections the
Countess could urge were again beaten back
by another equally unanswerable argument tak
en from the everyday life of the minister of
Windsor Castle. After having gained those
two important victories, Pricess Victoria, true
to the auspicious omen of her name,carried the
war into the enemy's camp. The chamber
maids, whose proper business it is to clean the
rooms, discharge the duties of their position
iu silk dresses. The daughter of the richest
sovereign iu the world decided to put a stop
to this extravagance. One line morning she
had all the female servants summoned to her
presence, and delivered what may be consider
ed a highly successful maiden speech. She
began by telling tliein the expense of their
dresses must evidently exceed the rate of their
wages. She added that as their wages were
not to be raised, it would lie very fortunate
fir them if they were allowed to assume cotton
articles of clothing. "In order to prevent every
misunderstanding," the Pricess continued, " 1
shall not only permit, but order you to do so.
Y'ou must know that there ought always to be
a difference in the dress of mistress and ser
vant. Don't think that I want to hurt your
feelings; you will understand my intention at
once, if I tell von that " aud now catue
the same unanswerable argument from the
Court of St. James. She told them briefly
that Court people in their position performed
their duties in cotton and that she liked to be
ruled by her mother's practice.
BRIDE AND GROOX A CENTURY Aoo.—To
begin with the lady. -Her locks were strained
over an immense cushion that sat like an in
cubus on her head and plastered over with a
shower of white powder. The height of this
tower was somewhat over a foot. One single
white rosebud lay on its top like an eagle on a
hay stuck. Over her neck and bosom was
folded a lace handkerchief fastened in front by
a bosom pin rather larger than a dollar, con
taining your grandfather's miniature set in
virgin gold. Her airy form was braced up in ;
a satin dress the sleeves as tight as the natural
skin of the arm, with a waist formed by a
bodice, worn outside, from whence the skirt
flowed off, and was distented at the top by an
ample hoop. Shoes of white kid, with peaked
toes, and heels of two or three inches eleva
tion, inclosed her feet and glittered with span
gles, as her little pedal members peeped curious
ly out.
Now for the swain. His hair was sleeked
back and plentifully beflonred, while his cue
projected like the handle of a skillet. His
coat was a sky blue silk, lined with yellow; his
long vest of white satin, embroidered with gold
lace; his breeches of the same material, and
tied at the knees with pink ribbons. White
silk stockings, and pumps with laces and ties
of the same hue completed the habiliments of
his neither linen. Lace ruffles clustered around
his waist, and a portentous frill worked in cor
respondence, and bearing the miniature of his
beloved, finished his truly genteel appearance.
IN* A TIGHT PLACE.—Webster had an anec
dote of old Father Searl, the minister of his
boyhood, which never has been in print, and
which is to goad to be lost. It was customary
then to wear buckskin breeches in cold weather.
One Sunday morning in the autumn, Father
Searl brought his ('own from the garret ; but
the wasps had taken possession during the
Summer, and were having a nice time of it in
them. By dint of effort, he got out the in
truders, or thought he had expelled them, and
dressed for meeting. But while reading the
Scripture to the congregation, he felt a sting
from one of the enraged,siuall-waisted follows, A
jumped around the pulpit slapping his thighs.
But the uiore he slapped and danced the more
they stung. The people thought him crazy,
and were in commotion as to what to do; but
he explained the matter by saying : " Breth
ren, don't be alarmed; the Word of the Tjord
is in mil mouth, but 'he Devil is in mu breeches!"
The Cupola of St.Peters.
We resolved to-day to take another view of
St Peter's. The accent to the cupola is, as we
have already observed, of the easiest descrip
tion, being nearly an inclined plane. E'rom the
cupola alone we can have a true idea of the
immense extent of St. Peter's. The fourteen
figures of the Apostles, our Saviour, and St.
John the Baptist, which, from the piazza, ap
pear to be of the ordinary height, are in reality
nearly 20 feet high. On the roof live those
workmen who are employed in the repairs of
the buildings,for a large sum of money is spent
every year to keep the Basilica in its 'prcseut
state." From the interior of the cupola the
view of the church is really deceptive. What
appeared to you so large and so wondrous is
now dwindled away to almost nothing. You
seem t<*be in the church triumphant, raised
above the things of the earth, where those
things that have once appeared to you so wond
rous and so great will be then brought down
to mere nothing. Beneath you is the tomb'of
the Apostles, and its wondrous canopy, which
now appears to you quite small. The altar of
St. Procesus and Murtinianus the jailers of St.
Peter and St. Paul iu the Mumertine prison,
appear to you still smaller; but you reeongnize
the power of religion which has effaced the
sins of those who were once the persecutors of
its apostles, and now reunites them in the
same glorious temple, and pays the same ex
alted honors to them as it does to those whom
they persecuted As we proceed still higher
up, we come to the exterior, 011 the top of the
cupola, before entering the stairs which lead
to the ball. How noble the prospect which
is presented to you from this ! What a pan
orama of the Eternal City and of the distant
mountains on one side, and of the blue Med
iterranean on the other, is now before you !
AH seem, as it were by the hand of the ma
gician to be reduced to a diminished scale. The
Vatican palace and its gardens, the piazza and
its fountains, present an appearance of being
brought to their present size by some invisible
power. The view of everything is so deceptive
that you seem almost to be laboring under
some delusion, and you cannot trust your
eyesight; but to ascend the ball, this is the
work. We enter a room, after a short ascent,
frotn which a ladder, made of iron, placed
almost perpendicularly, leads to the ball. For
those who arc of large dimensions the ascent
is rather difficult. One of our companions, of
rather beyond the average dimensions, took
off his coat and waistcoat to try and enter in
to the ball. In the midst of his aerial course he
sticks fust, and lie can neither come down nor
go up. Some drag hitn by the hands, others
push liiiu by the feet, but to 110 purpose, and
lie at last has to descend without being able i
to enter into the ball, an honor he wished to
accomplish. The ball is eight feet and one
inch in diameter, and can contain sixteen per
sons. The cross above tbe ball is fourteen feet
high. The effect produced by the lighting
of 4,000 lumps, and afterwards of 800 flam
beaux, is truly astonishing, and presents this
glorious structure, on the nights of its illumina
tion, iu its full glory.
A ROUT COLD.—For every mile that we leave
the surface of the earth, the temperature falls 1
five degrees. At forty miles distance from
globe we get beyond the atmosphere, and
enter, strictly speaking into the regions of
space, whose temperature is 225 degrees below
zero ; and here cold reigns in all its power.—
Sotne idea of this intense cold tuay be formed
by stating that the greatest cold observed in J
the Arctic Circle is from 40 degrees to (10 de
grees below zero ; and here many surprising I
effects arc produced. In the chemical labora- j
tory, the greatest cold that we can produce is |
about 150 degrees below zero. At this tem
perature carbonic gas becomes a solid sub- !
stance, like snow. If touched, it pro luces
just the same effect 011 the skin as a red-hot
cinder; it blisters the linger like a turn. Quick
silver, or mercury, freezes at 40 degrees below I
zero—that is, 72 degrees below the tempera
ture at which water freezes. Tbe solid mercury !
may then be hammered into sheets, or made
into spoons; such spoons would melt in water j
as warm as ice. It is pretty certain that every !
liquid and gas that we are acquainted with !
would become solid if exposed to the cold of
the regions of space. The gas \vc light would
appear iike wax ; oil would be in reality, " as
hard as a rock pure spirit, which we never
yet solidified, would appear like a transparent !
crystal; hydrogen gas would become quite solid
and resemble a metal; we should be able to
turn nutter into a lathe like a piece of ivory ;
and the fragrant odor ot flowers would have
to be made hot before they would yield per
fume. These arc a few of the astonishing
effects of cold.
Earl Chatham was a martyr to gout iu
his feet. To protect them they were swathed
in flannel, aud socks made expressly to cover |
the flannel, lie wore shoes large enough to
cover the mass of wrapping. One night his
residence at Hayes was broken into, and among
the things stolen was these shoes. In the morn
ing, his valet in announcing the robbery, said :
"He has taken your shoes, iny lord." "What!
my gouty shoes? " Y'es, my lord." "D n
the rascal, I hope they will fit liiui."
NOT VERY PUNCTUAL.—A Kinderliook shoe
maker once promised to have a pair of boots
finished on a specified day, for cx-Prcsident
Van Buret), but failed to have them done when
called for. Meanwhile the ex-President started
for Europe, and was away for three years.—
Upon his rettirn he called for his boots,and was
told they were fiuisbed, " icith the exception of
treeing out."
teg"*- An editor of n country paper thus
humorously bids farewell lo his readers: "The
sheriff is waiting for ns in the next room, so
\vc have no opportunity to be pathetic. Major
Nab.'em says we are wanted and must go.—
Delinquent subscribers, you have much to
unswer for. Heaven may forgive yon but I
never catt."
VOL. XIX. !N O. 13.
A Kiss THAT DID'.VT PAY. —The Toledo
Record gets off a good one in regard to a cit
izen of lowa, whose wife, in his absence, had
been kissed by a drover, while giving a glass
of water. When he had heard of the outrage
he started at once in pursuit, found the drover
after a hard day's ride, and accused hiui of the
theft.
The drover admitted the truth of the
soft iinpeachement—said he had been a long
time from home, was sorely tempted, and in an
unguarded moment of frenzy purloined the
the kiss, but that he had not damaged the
woman in the smallest particular—was very
sorry—thought it was no matter to make a
great ado about, and therefore begged to be
excused.
The husband finally concluded that this was
the right view of the matter, and agreed to
settle it upon the receipt of $ 5 for his day's
, ride. This being satisfactory the drover hand
ed over a $ 10 bill and received $ 5 in change.
Hut when the aggrieved benedict returned
borne and consulted his detector, be found, the
bill a counterfeit. He found he had suffered
the indignity of having his wife kissed by a
" nasty drover." passed one day in the saddle,
and lost five dollars, and concluded that it*
didn't pay.
Ax ATLANTA BREAKFAST —Sut Lovengood
jots down the following :
You have often heard, but perhaps never
ventured to publish, a good yarn on I)r.
Thompson, of Atlanta, Ga., a generous good
man, and a tiptop landlord and wit. A travel
er called very late for breakfast. The meal was
hurriedly prepared. Thompson, feeling that
the " feed" was not cjuite up to the mark,
made all sorts of apologies nil around the
" eater," who worked on in silence.
This sulky demeanor rather annoyed the
Doctor, who, changing the range of his bat
! tery struck his thumbs in his vest nrmholes,
expanded his chest, by robbing the room of
half its air, and said ; " now, mister, dod dnrn
me, if I haint't made all the aj>ology necessary
an' more too, considerin' the breakfast, and
who gets it; and now, I tell you, I have seen
dirtier, worse cooked, worse tasted, worse look
ing, and ah—l of a sight smaller breakfasts
than this is, several times."
The weary hungry one meekly laid down his
tools, swallowed the bite ir. transitu, placed
the palms of bis hands together, and modestly
looking up at the vexed and fuming landlord,
shot him dead with the words following, viz :
" Is—what—you—soy—true ?"
" Yes, sir," came with a vindictive prompt
ness.
" Well, then, I'll be choked old boss, if you
hain't out traveled inc."
CORRECT STEAKINC,. —We advise all our
young people to acquire in early life the habit
of using good language both in speaking and
writing, and to abandon as early as possible
any use of slang words or phrases. The lon
ger they live the more difficult the acquisition
of such language will be : and if the golden
age of ycuth, the projier season for the acqni
sion of language, be passed in its abuse, the
uufortunate victim of neglected education is
very probably doomed to talk slang for life.
Money is not necessary to procure this edu
cation. He lias merely to use the language lie
reads, instead of the slang which lie hears, to
form bis taste from the best sjienkers and poets
of the country ; to treasure up choice phrases
in his memory, and to habituute himself to
their use—avoiding at the same time that pe
dantic precision and bombast, which show ra
ther the weakness of a vain ambition than the
polish of au educated mind.
fast?- A schoolmaster, wishing his pupils to
have a clear idea of faith, illustrated it thus :
" Here is an apple : you see it and therefore
you know it is there ; but when I place it un
der this tea-cup, you have faith that it is there
though you no longer see it." The Isds seem
ed to understand perfectly, and the next time
the master asked : —" What is faith ? they
replied with one accord, " An apple under a
lea-cap."
THE RIGHT USE or THE EVES. —An Italian
Bishop, who had endured much persecution
with a calm unruffled temper, was asked how
he attained such a mastery over himself. " By
making a light Hse of my eyes," said he. " I
first look up to heaven as the place whither I
am going to live forever. I next look down
upon the earth, and consider how small aspaco
of it will soon be all that I can occupy or
want. I then look around me, and think how
many are far more wretched thau I am."
FIRE AT THE ILLINOIS STATE PRISON.—
ALTON, 111., Friday, August 14. —At about 8
o'clock last evening a fire broke out in the
workshops of the State Prison, two of which,
with the dining hall of the Prison Chapel, Ho
spital, and three other buildings, were consum
ed. A large amount of finished work was al
so destroyed. Three firemen were injured, but
not dangerously. S.-veral attempts to escape
were made by the prisoners ; none, however,
succeeded. The loss is estimated at $30,000,
iMid is fullv covered by insurance in Eastern
offices. The origin of the lire is unknown.
AOVICE TO COXSIMHIVE IV.on.E.—Dr. Hall
of the Journal of Health, says to his consump
tive friends :—"You want air, not physic ;
yon want pure air not medicated air ; you
want nutrition, such as plenty of meat and
bread will give, and they alone ; physic lias
uo nutriment ; gaspings lor air cannot cure
you; monkey capers in a gymnasium cannot
cure you, and stimulants cannot cure yon. If
you want to get well go in for beef and out
door air, and do not be deluded into the grave
by advertisements and bulliarene certificates."
fta?" Naomi, daughter of Enoch, was five
hundred and eighty years of age when she mar
ried. Take courage ladies !
generations of men follow each oth
er like the waves of a swollen river.