(HE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: Thursday More lag, July 21, 1869. jitlttteb l^ottrg. THERE'S WORK ENOUGH TO DO. The black-bird early leaves it real To meet the smiling morn, And gather fragments for its neat From upland, wood and lawn ; The busy bee that wings its way 'Mid seats of varied hue, And every flower would seem to say— " There's work enough to do." The cowslip and the spreading vine, The daisy in the grass, The snow drop and the eglantine, Preach sermons as we pass ; The ant within its cavern deep, Would bid us labor too, And written upon his tiny heap— " There's work enough to do." The planets, at their Maker's will, Move onward in their cars, Nor nature's wheel is never still- Progressive as the stars! The leaves that flutter in the air, And Summer's breezes woo, One solemn truth to man declare— " There's work enough to do." Who, then, can sleep, when all around Is active, fresh and free? Shall mau—creation's lord—be found Less busy than the bee ? Our courts and allies are the field, If men would search them through, That best the sweets of labor yield, And " work enough to do." To have a heart for those who weep, The sottish drunkard win ; To rescue all the children, deep In ignorance and sin ; To help the poor, the hungry feed, To give him coat and shoe ; To see that all can write and read— " Is work enough to do." The time is shoit—the world is wide, And much has to be done ; The wondrous earth, and all its pride, Will vanish with the sun -, The moments fly on lightnings' wings, And life's uncertain, too ; We've none to waste on foolish things— " There's work enough to do." IB is c 1 11 anto us . From the Battle-field of Solferino. [The following letter, written by H. J. RAYMOND, editor of the New York Timet, from the field of the late great battle between the Allies and the Austrians, a few hours after its occurrence, will be found very interesting.] CASTIGLIONE, Italy, Friday night, June 24,1859. I came from Brescia early this morning,and arrived jnst in time to witness the last half of what I have very little doubt will turn out to have been the greatest battle the modern world has seen. You will get the official summary of its results by telegraph before this letter seaches you, and will be prepared, therefore, for this statement of its magnitude. I cannot describe it with any precision as yet—for it has lasted all, day, and extended over a circuit of not less than fifteen miles ; the noise of the can nonade, and even of the musketry, moreover, is still in my ears, and none of those engaged in it, except the wounded,have returned to give us any distinct and connected report. But not less than 450,000 men have been engaged in it; and of those not less than 30,000 —dead or disabled—lie, on this bright, starry night,npon the bloody field. The battle commenced at a little before 5 o clock in the morning—not far trom sunrise. Just back of Castiglione rises a high range of bills—which projects a mile or thereabouts in to the plain and then breaks off towards the left into a wide expense of smaller hills, and so into the rolling surface which makes that por tion of the plain. The Austrians had taken positiou npon these hills, —planting cannon up on those nearest to Castiglione which they could approach, an the French army was in full force in and around that little village,—and had stationed their immense array all over the the surrounding plain. As nearly as we can now learn the Emperor FRANCIS JOSEPH had collected here rot less than 225,000 troops, and commanded them in person. His evident purpose was to make a stand here and risk the fortunes ot the war upon the hazards of the day. NAPOLEON promptly accepted the chal lenge, and commenced the attack as soon as it was light this morning, by placing cannon up on the hills still nearer to Castiglione than those held by the Austrians, and opening fire upon them on the heights beyond. He took his own stand upon the highest of these—a steep, sharp-backed ridge, commands a magni ficent view of the entire circuit of the plain,and from that point directed the entire movements of his army during the early portion of the day. The French very soon drove the enemy out of the posts they held nearest to the town, and followed them into the small villages of the plain below. The first of these was Solferino, where they had a sharp and protracted engage ment. The Austrians disputed every inch of the ground, and fought here, as they did throughout the day, with the utmost despera tion. They were three times driven out of the town, before they would stay ont. The peo ple of the village, moreover, took part against the French, npon whom they fired from their windows, and the French was compelled, in self defence, to burn the town. When they found it impossible to hold their ground any longer, they fell back, slowly and steadily,until they reached the village of Volta, which, as jou will see by the map, lies directly southeast from Cast iglione, and is ouly about a mile from the river Mincio, from which, however, it is separated by a range of hills. Upon these hills, in the rear of the town, and overlooking it competely on the south and southeast sides, the Austrians bad planted very formidable bat teries ; and when I arrived upon the field and THE BRADFORD REPORTER. went at once to the height where the Empe ror had stood at the opening of the engage ment, bat which he had left an honr before to follow his victorious troops, these batteries were blazing away upon the French who were stationed on the plain below. I was too far off to observe with an accuracy the successive steps of the actioo, but I could distinctly see the troops stationed upon the broad plain, and moving up in masses towards the front, where the artillery was posted, as their services were required. But as soon as they reached this point they were speedily enveloped in the smoke of the cannon, and disappeared from observa tion. But the general result was soon made evident by the slackening of the Austrian fire, and by the falling back of their smoke and a corresponding advance on the part of that which rose from the French artillety. The cannonading at that poiut lasted for over an hour ; but in precisely what direction the Aus trians retreated, it was not possible, from the position I occupied, to see. I was airaid to change it, moreover, because, although I might easily have gone more directly and closely up on the field, I could not have found any eminence upon the plain from which I could have had so sweeping and complete a view. Part of the Austriau force probably crossed the Alincio River, which flows southward from the lower end of Lake Guarda, and empties into the Po. But the battle coutinued to rage all over the region northwest of a line connecting the towns of Castiglione, Solferino and Yolta. At one point after another a sharp cannonading would arise and continue for half or three-qnarters of an hour—and after each successive engage ment of this kind, the result became apparent in the retreat of the Austrians and the ad vance of the French forces. During all the early part of the day the sky had been clear and the weather hot. But clouds began to gather at about noon, and at 3 o'clock, while the cannonade was at its height, a tremendous thunderstorm rolled up from the northwest ; the wind came first, sweeping from the parch ed streets an enormous cloud of dust, and was soon followed by a heavy fall of rain, accom panied by vivid lightning and rapid explosions of rattling thunder. The storm lasted for about an hour, and the cannonading, so fur as we could distinguish, was suspended. Then the rain ceased, the clouds blew away, the sun shone out again, and the air was cooled and perfectly delightful. Tbouirh the cannon may have ceased for a time to take part in it, the fight had meantime gone on, —and when I again resumed my post of observation, from which the storm had expelled me,the cannonad ing commenced quite on the extreme left of the eutire field and ou the very borders of the lake, northeast from Castiglione and west of Pesch iera. The Piedmontee troops, under the King who commands them in person, had been post ed there and received the Austrians as they ; came around. From about 7 o'clock until after night-fall an incessant and most terrible comb it was here kept up. The t a'te ies of the two armies were apparently about half a mile apart, —and at the outset they were both served I with nearly equal and effective vigor. But the Austrians gradually slackened their fire and several times took up new positions,—while the Sardinians poured a rapid and uninterrupt I ed shower of balls upon them, —suspending only for a few minutes at a time, and then re newing it again with redoubled fury. The wind had now gone down, the air was still,and the sound of musketry, as well as of the cannon was distinctly heard. The former was contin uous, sharp and incessant, sounding like the ! constant and irregular pattering of hail upon a roof, while the latter was occasionally sus pended, but while it lasted was overwhelmingly grand and terrible. Over the Sardinian park rose a dense white cloud of smoke, directly up | wards, its sides perfectly upright and well de fined, and spreading outward both ways at the top like an enormous sheaf of wheat. The sun was making a glorious setting iu the west, and as his light gradually departed.the vivid flashes at each discharge of the cannon gleamed through the smoke like sharp lightning through the breast of an enormous cloud. Sometimes only a single flash would be seen, then two or three at once,and sometimes half-a-dozen wonld break forth in instant succession. It was be ginning to be dark when I turned to descend the hill, and all the way dowu I still heard the roar of the cannon and the clattering of the guns of the infantry. But the Austrians were clearly falling back, and conld scarcely have i failed to sustain a total rout. It is possible they may be in condition to make one more struggle in the morning, but, judging from my own observation, it certainly is not probable. They have sustained an overwhelming defeat, and it seems to me not unlikely that the Emp eror may now be induced, by the representa tions of the natural Powers, to accept the peace which NAPOLEON will be very likely to tender him. Just before nightfall a tremendous cannonad ing was distinctly visible in the direction of Mantua, and it was supposed by one or two French officers that Prince NAPOLEON was as saulting that fortress as part of the general plau of the day's operations, while the Empe ror was engaging the enemy in the open field But 1 see no reason to suppose that this is true as Prince NAPOLEON could scarcely have reach ed Mantua by this time, as he was in Florence only a week ago. 1 have thus given yon a very general outline of this great battle as it came ouder ray own observation. I have mentioned no names of subordinate officers, because I have had no op portunity to learn to specific part which indi viduals took in the engagement. Ail that I must leave for subsequent letters, or refer you for it to the official reports which we here shall not see for three or four days after they are published in Paris. 1 am afraid to ventnre npon any conjecture as to the number of killed and wonnded in this battle ; but from the nature of tbe case it must be enormous. I am confident that not less than ten thousand, wonnded have been brought into this village alone daring tbe day—to say nothing of those that were left on the field or taken to other places. Tbe first intimation we received of an engagement having taken place, PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " REGARDLESS OP DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." was from meeting three or four carts, drawn by oxen, and filled with wounded—before we reached Montechiaro on the road from Brescia. As we had heard of no battle, we naturally supposed that these wounds had been received in some skirmish. Soon after we met a one horse carriage, in which was laid at full length an officer of rank, whose face wore so ghastly a look as to make it evident he was dying.— On reaching Montechiaro, and stopping for a moment to rest our horses, we were told that a great battle was then going on in the plain before Castiglione ; and going at once to the summit of some old fortificatious which once defended the town, we could see with our glnsses the smoke of the engagement. We lost no time in pushing forward, although we were told that we could not reach Castiglione be cause the roads were completely occupied by artillery held in reserve. We went on, how ever, continuing to meet carriages and carts laden with wounded, and passing the French camps of the previous night, came to a poiut,at about half a mile from the town, where a park of artillery wagons was defiling from their camp into the road. Watching our chance, we drove in between two of the wagons, and so entered the town under cjver of the enormous cloud of dust which they raised. The main street was densely crowded with carts, carriages, horses donkeys, oxen, soldiers, sutlers and persons and animals of every description. We pushed our way, without hindrance, directly past the house marked as the Quartier Generate, or head-quarters of the Emperor, and were thus within the camp. We had gone but a short distance when we came to where the great' processioo of the wounded was turning down a cross street to a church which had been taken for a hospital. It was certainly the most dread ful sight I ever saw. Every conceivable kind of wound which can be inflicted upon men was here exhibited. All who were able to do so, were obliged to walk—the wagons and animals at command being all required for those who could not otherwise be moved. Some walked along, their faces completely covered with blood from sabre cuts upon their heads. Many had their arms shattered, —hundreds had their hauds tied np,—and some carried most ghastly wounds upon their faces. Some had tied up their wounds, —and others had stripped away the clothing which chafed and made them worse. I saw one man walking along with a firm step and a resolute air,—naked to his waist, and having a bullet-woand upon his side, an ugly gash along bis cheek, and a deep bayonet thrust, received from behind, in his shoulder. Most of those who were walking wore a serious look, —conversing but little with one another though they walked two and two, —and few of them carried upon tbeir faces any considera ble expression of pain. Those who were more severely injured rode upon donkeys or in carts, —and a few were carried upon mattresses on men's shoulders.— But these were mostly officers, and nearly ail I saw carried in that way were so badly wounded that their recovery is scarcely possi ble. One had both his legs crushed by a can non ball. Another had received a ball in his thigh, and was evidently suffering the most inteuse agony. Many of those whose wounds were in their legs were seated in chairs swung across a donkey—one being upon each side.— Several who were thus carried, and were sup ported by soldiers walking by tbeir side, were apparently unconscious, aud seemed to be dy ing. Then wonld come carts, large and small, carrying three, five, and some of them ten or liftten each. A steady stream of these ghast ly victims of the battle of the day poured through the town. I stood in the crowd by the side of them as the sad procession passed along, and watched it at this point for over an hour. It was not interrupted for a moment, —except now and then by a crowd of prison ers, —and it continued thus from about 10 iu the morning, when it began to flow, until I left the street, long after dark. Every church, every large hall, every private house in the town has been taken for the service of the wounded. Those whose injuries are slight, af ter having them dressed, pass at once into the ranks and mingle with their comrades. I looked into the church as I passed by All the seats, railings, ic , had been removed ; mattresses of hay hnd been spread upon the floor, and were completely filled with wounded men, in every stage of suffering and peril, ly ing side by side. The surgeons were dressing their wounds Sisters of Charity and other women were giving them wine and otherwise ministering to their comfort ; —but morning, I am sure, will dawn upon a large proportion of them relieved forever from their pain. If anything can be more horrible than a soldier's life, it certainly is a soldier's death. When we drove into town, we were warned by a French gentleman, who had arrived a little before us, that unless we placed our car riage in the stable or grounds of some private citizen, it would certainly be seized for the services of the wounded, as his had been. As it was all we could rely on for a bedroom as well as a means of locomotion, we were un willing thus to lose it. On going to a private house, therefore, to make such an arrangement, we found it had been taken for a hospital, and among its inmates was a vivandere, —a woman of perhaps 30, dressed in the style of onr Bloomers, who had received a ball in her hand while following her occupation and carrying water and wine to the soldiers during the ac tion. Two surgeons from the Emperor's fami ly were dressing her wound, —and though pale from loss of blood she was conversing cheer fully and even gaily with them. Six or eight times while I stood upon the street, watching the wounded, there came along squads of prisoners taken at various stages of the action. Sometimes there would be only three or four, —then twenty, fifty or a hundred, and in one company over 400. They walked closely together six or eight deep,— the officers being generally in the middle, —and were gnarded by a single file of troops walk ing on each side. As a general thing they were not bad looking men. Very many of them were very young—not over 16 certainly -~and only now and then you woold see n par ticularly brutal aodstopid countenance. There was nothing like anger or shame on their faces; they seemed generally wholly indifferent to their position, but 'ooked about with a good deal of curiosity upon the crowd which sur rounded them. They were generally silent, though now and then they would talk and laugh with each other as they passed along.— The officers were, with scarcely an exception, handsome, manly and intelligent fellows. All were without arms. The uuiforin of the men was a very coarse brown stuff, made of flax, very plain, and with scarcely any attempt at ornament. Towards night, carts began to come in laden with wounded Austriaus, hun dreds of whom passed along while I stood there, and were taken directly to the hospitals, where they received precisely the same treat ment as the French. Most of them seemed to be very badly hurt. Among the uuuiber, both of the wounded and the prisoners, were many Hungarians. The town to night, as might be expected, is simply a camp. The streets which are narrow are crammed with artillery and provision wag ons trying, almost in vain, to make their way through ttie town ; —bivouac fires light up the orchards and fields all around the village ; two streams of troops pour out on the two roads leading to the field of battle, extendiug as far as the eye can reach ; —sutlers, fruit peddlers, and small dealers of every kind cir culate among the soldiers who crowd the streets —an immense train of Piedmontese artillery are brought to a stand in the street, while try ing to make their way through the town to their place of encampment ; —and thousands of French iufantry, despairing of reaching their teuts, have seated themselves upon the narrow sidewa'ks, and with the house-walls for a back and tbeir haversacks for pillows, they have addressed themselves in that position to the labor of obtaining a night's rest. It is a striking scene most certainly,—aud the most wonderful part of it is the perfect order and good behavior of the troops. I have not seen during the whole day a single instance of dis order, or even rudeness in word or deed from any soldier. Not one have I seeu in the slightest degree intoxicated ; —not one have I seen shouting or singing ; —not a rough or rude remark have I seen or heard addressed to any one, —nor have I failed, in a single instance, whenever I have applied to a soldier for in formation or addressed him on any subject whatever, to receive a courteous rcpiyaud the most polite endeavor to aid my wishes. Nor have I heard a single cheer over the victory, —or a single syllable of exultation over the prisoners as they come in. The most respect ful silence has in every case been preserved.— Expressions of sympathy with the wounded were constant, and prompt attention, so far as possible, was always giveu to their wants.— Private property in the town, so far as I can see, has been treated with perfect respect. 111 selecting fields for the camp, those which will be injured by it the least seem uniformly to be chosen. Bakers' shops, and groceries with cheese, bacon, sausages, See., freely exposed, are open,— and I have repeatedly seen soldiers bargaining for supplies at their windows. But I have heard of uo instance and seen no indi cation of the slightest interference with pri vate property. Yet there is no great rigor of discipline enforced—for the soldiers seem to be quite at their ease, and wander about town very much at their own discretion. But they look upon war as a business, —as something to be done, like everything else, with as little fuss and excitement as possible. So they look up on a battle, and the operations attending it— the care of the wounded, the reception of prisoners, Ac., —as merely part of the regular routine, —just like cleaning their muskets, or boiliug their soup over their bivouac tires. But it is 3 o'clock in the morning, and yon will excuse me from a general disquisition npon the character and habits of the French soldi ery. I slept upon a bench last night,—and, if the fleas permit, have hope of a little bet ter accommodation for the few hours that re main of to-night. I have written this letter, however, in order that you may receive as ear ly a report as possible, of the great battle and victory which will make the 24th of June a day long to be remembered in the history of the world. ' I shall send this to Brescia in the morning, and hope it may reach Liverpool in time for the steamer of the 2d of July. 11. J. R. THE WIFE.—IT is astonishing to see how well a man may live on a small income, who has a handy and industrious wife. Some men live and make a far better appparance on six or eight dollars a week, than others do on fif teen or eighteen dollars. The man does his part well, but his wife is good for nothing.— She will even upbraid her husband for not living in as good style as his neighbor, while the fault is entirely her own. His neighbor has a neat, capable, and industrious wife, and that 'makes a difference. His wife, on the other had, is a whirpcol into which a great many silver cups might be thrown, and the ap pearance of the water would remain unchang ed. No Nicholas, the diver, is there to restore the wasted treasure. It is only an insult for such a woman to talk to her husband about her love and devotion. A CONSCIENTIOUS WIDOW.—A poor peasant at his death-bed made a will. He called bis wife to him, and told of its provisions. " I have left," he said, "my horse to my parents : sell it, and hand over to them the money you receive. I leave to you my dog ; take caie of him, and he will serve yon faithfully." The wile promised to obey, and in dne time set out to the neighboring market, with the horse and the dog. " How much do you want for yonr horse ?" inquired a farmer. " I cannot sell the horse alone, but you may have both at a rea sonable rate. Give me ten ponnds for the dog, and five shillings for the horse." The farmer laughed, but as the terms were low, be willing ly accepted them. Then tbo worthy woman gave to her husband's parent's the five shillings received for the horse, and kept the ten pouuds for herself. [From the Pennsylvania School Journal ] Judicial Decision. Removal of Directors; Objects and impor tance of the School System ; The lollowing is ic. substance the opinion of the Court in an application that lately came before Judge WILMOT, at Towanda, for the removul of three of the school directors in one of the townships for refusing to conform to the requirements of the school law, and put the system properly in operation. It will be seen that Judge WIL MOT'S views of the school system are in har mony with the rule for construing the school laws, promulgated by State Superintendent BIRROWES, iu 1837, that " the school laws be ing intended for the public benefit, should, in all cases of reasonable doubt, receive a liberal construction in favor of the system f' and in this respect they ure iu cheering contrast with some decisions of the Courts, whose effect has been to cripple and embarrass the operations of the system. In the Court of Qua: ter Sessions of Bradford County. In the matter of the application to remove three directors of Albany School District for refusiug to levy tax for building purposes. OPINION. WILMOT, P. J. "The substantial facts of this case are : That the school houses of that township (with the exception of two) were in a dilapidated condition, and wholly unfit to keep a school in. A majority in the Board could not be obtained to levy a tax for build iug purposes. Three of the* Board persistent ly refused to levy such tax. The two elected last winter, were members of the Hoard be fore, and were re-elected on this issue, of tax or no tax for building purposes. The whole evidence showed a fixed resolve on the part of the Directors complaiued aguinst, to resist and defeat, indefinitely, the levy of a building tax, relying upon the hope thatatsoinc time school houses would be built by voluntary subscrip tion. The other three Directors 'had urged upon the Board from time to time the per formance of this duty—two uniformly advo eated and voted for a building tax. It was urged before the Court, that pro ceedings in this case should be against all the Directors as a Board, and uot against a part. The language of the statute, if the ,l words v were in all cases to control the construction, would sustain this view. But in construing statutes of this character, the spirit of the law—that is, the intention of the legislature, as gathered from the whole enactment, and kindred legislation, must control. So in this case, we look if necessary to all the legislation upon this subject, and find the motive, spirit, and object of the Legislature, in the passage of the particular act, or section under consid eration. It is perfectly clear by the legislation upon this subject, tlmt the legislature contemplated a thorough system of common schools, extend ing into every township and neighborhood.— It is no longer optional with the people of a District, to accept or reject it. The system must be universally carried out, and the officers connected with it must perform any duty en joined. Keeping this in view as the controlling object of the legislature, we most construe ail legislation so as to give it effect. The system is as effectually broken down by a refusal to tax for school houses when necessary, as it would be by refusing to employ teachers. Hut all this conceded—the question presented is Must the whole Board be proceeded against and removed, for the default of a majority, or an equal number of its members ? I answer, no. Such a proceeding is unjust, and in no way necessary to reach the end to be attained. A statute should never be so construed as to effect injustice and wrong; to confound the innocent and guilty,—the faithful and the un faithful, in a common punishment. The plain est dictates of common sense and common jus tice are violated, in removing trum office, three faithful Directors, because of the default of three who are unfaithful, or negligent of their duties. You give efficiency to the law, by re moving the defaulting officers, and retaining those who are ready and anxious to d seharge their duties. To what end, and for what pur pose, consistent with, and for the advance ment of the school system, should the faith ful directors be removed ? I can see no pur pose—none can be suggested. The Court surely would not be required to go through the farce of removing men from office, and im mediately thereupon appointing the same men to the same office; and yet this our Conit would surely have done had we felt compelled to removed the three faithful directors of Al bany As the consequences of the construc tion contended for (that nil the directors must he removed for the default of a part) lead to absurdity and gross injustice, and in no way farther the great purpose of the law, it must be rejected on every priuciplc that governs in the construction of statutes. Having thus established tlie point, if argu ment were necessary to establish so plain si proposition, that the faithful directors should not be removed . from ofliee, it follows of ne cessity, that you must proceed against that ;part of the Board who refuse to perform their duty; otherwise the sjstem is effectually broken down. Three members of a Board can as effectually arrest the common school sj stem in a district, as if tlie board were unanimous in opposition. What, in such cases, is the plain remedy, suggested by the common sense of a man ? Does it in any way advance the end to be reached (the faithful carrying outof the common school system) to remove from office those who 6tand with fidelity by their duty ? Certainly not. You sustain the law, and give efficiency to the system, by removing those who stand in the way of its execution." Removal decreed accordingly. To ENJOY LIFE.—Tom—" Don't you think some werses would tonch her, Charley—a bean tifnlpoem ?" Charley—"Oh bang yonr wenw s Tom. If yon want to enjoy life, drop poetry and the gals altogether, and jine a fire com pany." VOL. XX. XO. 7. A ROMAN BANQUET. —All the furniture re quisite for the banquet was of costly material or exquisite workmanship. The number of courses was gradually increased till it exceed ed twenty, and alter each course everything which had Ber.ved for the previous course was removed aud fresh supplied. ! Slaves were especially appointed to each convivial function, and those functions were most minutely defined. The most delicious perfumes embalmed the banquet-hall. A mas ter of the ceremonies announced the merits of ' the dishes most worthy of special attention— the claims they possessed to this sort of ova tion ; finally noMiing was omitted of a nature I to sharpen the appetite, keep alive the atteu tion, and prolong enjoyment. This luxury had also its follies and absurdi ; ties. Such were those banquets where the fishes and birds served counted by thousands, and those dishes which hud uo other merit | than that of having cost an enormous price, j such as that dish which consisted of the brains. ;< f 000 ostriches, and that other of the j tongues of o.OOU hire's, all of which had i bet-n taught to speak. After the above the enormous sums spent by Lueullus at his banquet and the costs of ilie feasts he gave in the hall of Apollo will be readily understood. At these feasts the etiquette was to exhaust every known means to flatter the sensuality of the guests. Those irlorious days might be revived at our own time, but we want a Lueullus. Let us suppose some man known to be enormously rich desirous of celebrating a great political or financial event, and of giving on the occa sion a memorable festival without regard to expense. Let us suppose that he engages the services of every art to adorn the place of the lestival in every detail ; that he gives orders that re course be had to every means to procure the rarest provisions and the noblest wines of the most famed cellars ; that he has a troupe of the first actors of the day to perform for the amusement of his guests ; that the banquet be enlivened by vocal and instrumental music performed by the first artists of the day ; that, as an entr ' ade between dinner and coffee, a ballet performed by the prettiest dancers, shaft enliven his guests ; that the evening shall close with a ball at which two hundred women, se lected among the most beautiful, and four hun dred eh'gant dancers, shall attend ; that the buffet be provided with the most excellent hot and cold beverages, fresh and iced ; that at midnight a wisely selected collation sbail im bue new life into all ; that the servants be handsome and well-dressed, the illumination perfect, and, moreover, that the Amphitryon should have arranged for every guest to be sent for and conveyed hotne without discom fort—the bill on the following day might star tle even the cashier of Lueullus. THE RELIGION'S OK CIII.VA.—The national re ligions of China are three, namely the system of Confucius, that of Tuou, and that of Bud dha. Besides these, there are about a million of Christians and quite a number of Muhome dans. The religion of Confucios addresses itself to the moral nature. The idea of virtue and vice is inculcated, and the duty of com pliance with the precepts of law. But it ignores or but faintly recognizes the higher sanctions of rewards and puaishmeuts in a fu ture life. Taouism is materialistic. Its ideas of the soul arc physical and chemical. It regards the stars as divine, aud it deifies hermits and physicians, magicians and alchemists. Buddhism differs from both. It is common ly said to be a form of materialism and yet it is eminently subtle, metaphysical and imagina tive. It denies the existence of matter, re pudiates the evidence of the senses, and renders its homage and worship only to abstract ideas of fictitious impersonations. The religious are so many attempts to meet the wants of the hntnan mind, and they sup plement each other, so that one uoesuot abso lutely supercede the others. The very fact that this variety of faith can bo professed and and tolerated by the Chinese people, in this characteristic quietness and forbearance, is an indication of a tolcraut and religious disposi tion of mind. fi-sy* The following good story of a negro's [list meeting with a bear is told by Col. , who had spent the most of his fortune and life in the woods of Florida. The Colonel had a black fellow, a goodnatured, happy creature, who, one morning, was strolling through the woods, whistling and roaring as he went, when he spied an individual as black as him self, with much more wool. Dick looked at his new friend, and the bear (on his rump) at him. Dick's eyes began to stick out a feet.— " Who's dat ?" said Dick, shaking all over. Bruin began to approach. Dick pulled heels for the first tree, aud the bear after him.— Dick was upon the cypress, and the bear afttr him—Dick move 1 out on a limb, the bear fol lowed—till it began to bend. " Now, sec here Mister, if von come any farder dis limb broke. Here ! derc ! I told you so I'' As Dick had said, the limb broke, and down come bear and nigger. " Dcrc, you black debil, I told you so ; dis all your fault ; yer broke yer neck, and I'll just take yer to Massa Colonel !" WOMAN. — An exquisite production of nature, between a rose and au angel, according to a German poet ; the female of the human spe cies, according to a German zoologist. ; the redeeming portion of humanity, according to politer fact and experience. Woman is a treasure of which the profligate and the un married can never appreciate the full value, for he who possesses many does not possess one Malherhe sa vs in hi? Letters, that the Creator ( may have repented the creation of man, bnt that he had no reason to repent having made woman. Who will deny this ; and which of ns does not feel, though in due subjection to a holier religion, the devotion of Anacreon, who, ' when he was asked why he addressed so many ! of his hymns to women, aDd so few to deities, ' answered, " Bee*us# women are my deities
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