(HE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOAVANDA : Thursday Morning, August 4, 1859. Sdtatxb Doctrj. UP THE HILL A BERRYING. Oil a sunny summer morning, Early as the dew was dry, Up the hill I went a berrying ; Need I tell you—tell you why ? Farmer Davis had a daughter, And it happened that I knew, On each sunny morning, Jenny Up the hill went berrying too. Lonely work in picking berries, So I joine i her on the hill ; " Jenny, dear," said I, " your ba-ket's Quite too huge for one to fill." So we staid—we two—to fill it, Jenny talking- -I was still— Leading where the hill was steep, Picking berries up the hill. '• This is up-hill business," said Jenny, "So is life," said I; " shall we Climb it each a!one, or, Jenny, Will you come and climb with me ?" Redder than the blushing berries Jenny's check a moment grew, While, without delay, she answered, •' I will come aud climb with you." St isrell aiuffus. [Written for the Bradford Reporter.] A 53 ® EIL S B A 52. ANGF.I.O, the shepherd boy, fell asleep under the thorn bush, and slumbered till the vesper bell summoned to evening prayers. The breeze played all the afternoon with his long black hair, while a little thorn leaf flung its tiuy shadow on his forehead All the afternoon did he lie motionless, but the expression of his face changed ever and anon, and when the vespers rang a beautiful smile of triumph and pride rested on his countenance like the golden flush of sunset 011 still waten. Would you know why he smiled so proudly ? If so, listen to Angelo's dream. When Angelo fell asleep, a great castle ap peared before him. Flags streamed on the turrets and laughter and music sounded forth from every loop hole in the walls. By and by the rough, old warder lowered the draw bridge, and a young boy rode forth, surround ed by a troop of gay retainers. How proud ly he seemed to inhale the million perfumes of the forest flowers ; and how the wind made the feather in his hunting cap wave ! Ange lo suddenly know that it was lord Como and somebody whispered to Angelo, that lord Como knew neither care nor sorrow and owned wide extending domains. How the shepherd boy envied the young lord ! how he wished to be in his place, aud have men and warriors speak so deferentially to him ! But as he wished, a silver mist hid the castle, the troop and the \ oung lord from him. The leaf shadow of the thorn fell no longer on Angelo's smooth brow, for that brow" was wrinkled with vexa tion, and the shepherd boy, even in his dream remembered, that he was poor, and that uotii ing in the world loved him ! Yes there did too, for there was his pet lamb Carissinias which always met him first in the morning as he opened the fold. As Angelo remembered Carissima his forehead became smooth aud the leaf shadow merrily flitted to and fro over it. Angelo dreamed again, and this time he saw a small cottage beside a mountain stream. The cottage was buried beneath a mass of foliage, and a delicate tendriled vine sheltered the low door, through which, came a moan of distress and an agonizing cry of " Mother speak ! mother ! mother !" Angelo drew near and glanced through the latticed window and the interior appeared strangely familiar to him ; strangely like his own home used to look before his mother died ; and to make it seem still more natural there, in the corner, I was a lad ou his knees, and beyond him lay a poorly clad woman so silent, so motionless, that Angelo knew she was dead, and that she would not answer the kneeling boy who cried out so piteously "Mother !" Angelo thought that he wept and even as he slumbered a clear tiny tear crept out from the drooping arch of his eyelash and stopped, and trembled, while the thorn leaf flung its shadow, like a fairy mantle over it. " What will the poor little boy do," thought Angelo, and he turned to see whether any other cottages were near, but could not discover any, and as he returned to the window a great darkness shut out every thing from his sight. A saucy fly troubled the lamb Carissima as she lay beside Angelo, and the movement of her little foot to drive the fly away disturbed the shepherd but he only murmured " lie still Carissima," aud dream ed again. What a glorious TTal' Angelo has just enter ed ! Sec how the deer heads hang around the walls, and beneath them the quaint old armor ! How heavy the air is with ptrfurue ! What a merry set of feasters at the long, bountiful ly supplied table ! In the chair of honor Angelo beholds a youth with his head covered with roses beneath wiiieh his eyes flash like summer lightning. The youth rises and lilts up a golden goblet filled with wine ; he lifts it high above his head, and Angelo recognises young lord Como. The feasters also rise and ery out " a toust ! a toast from our lord Como !" How beautiful the young lord ap pears as he answers : " A toast I give, that we may live In joys, like these forever." What a hurrah as tiiey drank, broke on An gelo's ears, and how he wanted to be one of the feasters and drink the luscious wine from the golden goblets and join in the cheer!— Rut something raised him and bore him away from the hall, over the woods and rivers, over the hills and valleys, till Angelo found himself in a queer old city, and saw right before him £• young boy chipping pieces froa a b!ock of THE BRADFORD REPORTER. marble. The boy laid down his chisel as An gelo stood beside him, and lifting his head gazed up with mild soft eyes towards heaven murmuring : " Mother I am so lonely, and I am starving." But a sudden glory dawued in the bright eyes, the cheeks flushed as he exclaimed proudly, " I will be great, mother I" Angelo recognised the little lad of the cot tage beside the mountain stream. The sculp tor took up his chisel, bent over the marble and the scene grew dimmer and dimmer till Anirelo could see no more. Once again Angelo beholds lord Como, not this time in a splendid hall and rejoicing in youth, but a wretched old man tottering forth from a low wine shop. The boys laughed at him as he staggered through the street to the bridge, which a little way off, spanned a dark deep stream, which foamed wildly through the narrow arches. The wind blew the old man's grey hair as he leaned against the parapet and Angelo saw his head droop lower till his body hung on the slender railing. The shepherd boy tried to cry out and to rush forward to save him, but giant hands held him back and he could not move. Oh horror ! the old man falls over the parapet into the river and Ai gelo sees the grey hairs tossed wildly in a mad eddy and then they disappear. How pale is the face under the thorn, and how dark the tiny shadow of the thorn leaf! llusli ! what does Angelo hear? What a solemn chant, what a grand organ anthem dy ing away in the sculptured arches of the ca thedral in which Angelo stands, aud how sad the thousund worshippers are ! A body is carried up the main aisle, and Augelo, as it passes him, sees a face which lie remembers as that of the lad in the cottage. But the face is marked with deep flues of care and the mas sive brow is icy cold and the eyes are fixed.— But the corpse is at the ultar and the Bishop is speaking, Angelo listens. " He was born, my brethren," says the Bishop, " in a cottage beside a mountain stream. He only knew his mother, and loved her with I his whole heart. She died, and for a while he j mournfully tended the flocks and then wander ed away into this great city and became a dis ciple of Art. Slowly he learned, but surely, and at last lie won fame, and yet when men applauded and wondered, he never even smiled. One image was ever before his eyes, that of his dead mother, and he resolved to sculpture her as he remembered her. One day he chose a block of the finest, whitest marble and shut himself up his studio. A little girl attended to his wants, and there he toiled from early dawn till twilight, and from out the marble came forth a face divinely fair aud a noble form. No royal robes hung round it, nought! but a tattered mantle, and 110 crown encircled the bending head, but an angelic loveliness rested, like a halo, over the sainted face. At last it was finished aud 011 the pedestal the trembling hand, forever quiet yonder, carved j among immortelles, two simple words " My Mother !*' Yesterday his little attendant en tered the studio and there she found him, dead! They whom she called discovered a singular likeness between the saintly lace, which bent down cold in marble, and that of the sculptor turned upward, cold in death. Here my brethren lie lies, and there stands his mother, as he imagined her, in the snowy marbie " Angelo turned and gazed at the spot to which the Bishop pointed, and a wondrous fear came 011 him, for the face in the marble was the face of his own dead mother. Then the Bishop continued, and Angelo with his whole soul listened : " He was, my brethren, a man of sorrow arid of poverty, but his mother's love and heaven blessed genius were his, and to day when his weary work is ended we meet to mourn his death. But though the form be fore the altar returns to dust his name will live forever ; for yonder queenly statue of his cherished mother, wi I carry her sou's glory down through all coming time." The Bishop ceased, and Angelo seemed to hear a low tender voice murmur down to him from Ihe lofty arches: "Angelo! Augelo! the fruit of fame and glory grows ripest in the land of poverty and sorrow, and wealth is often but the path to an ignominiousdeath.Thou wilt triumph." The voice died away and on Angelo's ears fell the mellow cadence of a distant bell, so naturally that he awoke ! Now reader you can guess why the smile of triumph was on his face, and why he carried little Car issima so proudly and yet so tenderly in his arms arid close to his bosom to the fold in the valley. E. A GOOD THING IN THE STORY LINE. —Some years ago, a Cincinnati paper received and printed the first chapter of what appeared to be a thrilling romance, in the expectation of being provided with the concluding portions as might be needed. The chapter was very in geniously written, and concluded by leaving the principal character suspended by the pan taloons from the limb of a tree over a perpen dicular precipice. It attracted the attention of the press, and inquiries began to be made concerning the continuation of the fate of its hero. Day after day the victimized publish ers looked for the remaining chapters, but in vain. They never came to band. Finding that they had been sold, and wishing to put a stop to the jokes their cotemporaries were clacking at their expense, they briefly conclu ded the story thus : "CHARTER II.— CONCLUSION. —After hang ing to the treacherous tree for four weeks, his pantaloons gave way, and Charles Melville rolled headlong over the yawning precipice. " He fell a distance of five miles, and came down with the small of his back across a stake and rider fence, which so jarred him that he was compelled to travel in Italy for his health where lie is at present residing. He is engag ed in the butchering business and is the fath er of a large family of children." pgv If we were as careful to polish our man ners us our teeth, to make our tempers as sweet as our breath, to cut off our Inults as to pare our nails, to stand as upright in character as in person, what au immaculate race we should become ! PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " RESARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." The Defeated Duellist. A REMINISCENCE OF 808 JOHNSON, OF ARKANSAS Some twenty years ago, the raging excite ment of politics, and the burning bitterness of party spirit, were at the climax of their inten sity in the state of Arkansas, and fur trans cended, anything ever before known, recorded, or even imagined in the annals of American factions. The democrats, it is true, hud a heavy numerical majority, welltrained, and com manded by leaders of distinguished capacity. But to counterbalance this otherwise decisive advantage, the whigs could boast of the most famous fighters and dexterous duellists in all the great west, while their chosen champions had come off victorious in every grand conflict. On the doubtful field of honor, Crittenden had killed Conway ; Fent Noland had vanquished the chivalrous young Pope ; and Ashley and Woodruff had been put hors da cunbat by backing out, because forced by fear to the craven cry, peccavi. As many naturally be supposed, the whig heroes became insolent and intolerably over bearing, and too hastily adopted the system of carrying everything by storm and violence.— Their presses teemed with libellous vitupera tion and menace ; but at the slightest personal attack, or even insination, byway of reply,the imprudent editor was called to immediate ac count in a bloody payment by a summons un der the paramount authority of the sanguinary code of honor —a tribunal, then, of the last resort, aud of general jurisdiction throughout all Arkansas. Among the most eminent of the belligerent corps of whigs was one William Cummings, a ( learned and very eloquent lawyer, and equally skilful in the use of pen and pistol, as prompt to tire a bullet as a boil mot, and the oue almost as deadly as the other for if the formeralways stretched the body of his victim in the dust, the latter never failed to annihilate hischarac ter as if blasted by lightning. Indeed such was the notoriety of his powers aud unerring art as a marksman, that few desperadoes could be found willing to grant him the accommoda tion of a hostile interview, which he seemed to regard as the highest possible favor. Nor did this political barbarian coufine his assaults up on reputation to the actual chiefs of the op posite party ; but, in the true spirit of savage warfare, he extended his hostilities to all their friends and retainers of both sexes without mercy or discrimination,dragging into the light, every family secret, and crucifying every char acter ot the living or the dead on the point of his poisoned pen. For tliu purpose of wounding Colonel Ambrose H. Sevier, then the popular principal of the democracy in Arkansas, he made u ter rible ouslaught,through the columns of the whig journal,against his father in-law, Judge Johnson a gentleman of the highest respectability, and of stainless reputation, as well as a professed Christian, and therefore a man of peace. The day after the publication of the libel, the mar tial calumniator prepared his weapons and sal lied forth into the streets of Little Rock, in eager anticipation of a collision with some friend or relative of his illustrious victim. And he was very soon gratified by a combat, but in a totally different manner from what he had so confidently expected. As the duellist was passing across the public square, he saw a yonth of some twenty sum mers approaching him in front, with rapid yet quiet step.. His was a slender, elastic figure, with a pale radiant face, almost feminine ill the delicate beauty of its outlines, with vivid blue eyes, and a profusion ot golden hair. The slight snowy lingers of the right hand, jeweled with rich rings, flourished an ominous horse whip and the finely-chiselled mouth wore a smile, hut such a smile as causes cowards to tremble and brave men to make ready for bat tle—a smile of fire as lurid as the red light of a forge at midnight. "Is your name Cummings?" inquired the boy, who with obeisance of bitter mockery, as he came within three paces. " It is," answered the other, pausing, aston ished at the youth's tone and bearing. " William Cummings ?" repeated the boy, with a silver ringing laugh. " At your service," replied the lawyer, with a furious imprecation. " And mine is Bob Johnson. I arrived at home last night from the University of Yir inia," said the juvenile voice. " Then 1 trust you are the first of the Johnson family to get safely over the pons assinorum, and I hope you will stay over," re mared the duellist iu tones of withering sarcasm. " I have learned at least one useful art—the modus operandi of administering proper punish ment to the maligaut slanderer of my father, aud 1 will now proceed to indoctrinate you in the very first lesson," retorted young Johnson, still smiling, and lie struck a blow with his whip as sudden us lightning across the other's face. Cummings uttered a fearful yell of mingled pain and rage, arid, snatching a small revolver from the side pocket of his coat, aimed at his enemy's heart. But the latter, with the agility of a cut, sprang upon the desperado, and, be fore lie could fire, wrested the weapon of death | from his hands, and hurled it off to the distance of a hundred feet, where it fell with a loud ex plosion, to the horror of numerous spectators, who were rushing from all directions to the scene. The duellist then drew his bowie-knife, and the bystanders gave a wild cry of pity and terror, for the bloody doom of the fairliaircd boy appeared to be sealed irrevocably. Indeed he had only a single chance for his life, and that seemed awful us the pangs of death itself But, without a moment's hesitation, he bravely embraced it—grasped the keeu blade of the knife with both his hands, aud, although the razor like edge cut his fingers to the hone,after a brief and desperute struggle he gained pos session of that desperate instrument also, and thus had the foe completely in his power. But with wonderful and most praise-worthy for bearance, considering the past provocation and present flaming excitement ot mortal strife, he disdained to use bis perfectly legitimate advac- tage, and tossed the murderous dagger away from him in sublime scorn aud maguanimity, and again had recourse to his less dangerous horse-whip. The crowd, however, soon interposed to separute the parties, and the singular drama closed without loss of life, or serious injury to either of the combatants. A challenge necessarily followed. Young Johnson selected short words as the weapon of final umpirage, and once more displayed his chivalrous generosity of soul, by disarming and sparing his ruthless antagonist. His character as a hero of the highest class was now established beyond all possibility of doubt or denial; but to insure his immunity from all future annoyance, or the necessity of another appeal to the arbitrament of arms ho was careful to exhibit his matchless skill us a marksman. In the pistol galleries of Little Rock, he would ting the bell a dozen times in succession ; while not a hunter from the White Mountains could equal him with the rifle. He received no more calls to the perilous fields of houor ; and from that duy the supremacy of dueling declined in Arkansas. The democrats now had au Achilles to pit against the whig Hector, the famous and lirey Tent Noland.the Pete Whetstone of the Devil's Fork and Spirit of the Times. There is, probably, more than sciolists deem in hereditary blood ; and truly Bob Johnson came of a chivalrous stock. His grandfather was celebrated as au unrivalled ranger in the Indian wars of primitive Kentucky, and 011 the same side lie claimed as an uncle the renowned conqueror of Tecumseh, that man who, like English Nelson, of the Nde, never knew the meuning of the word fear. Another uncle, the eloquent Christian preacher, John T. Johnson,of the Campbellite church, possessed as great prowess, but lie de veloped it in u different way—in the most des perate theological duels against all sorts of clerical opponents, after the manner of Luther in all of which he achieved the most distinguish ed success. The father of our hero also evinced remark able firmness of the character, espedially on the bench, but his judicial station precluded the opportunity of physical manifestations.— He was, besides, a consummate scholar, and one of the most profound jurisconsuls in the United States. As a political), Senator Johnson has a broad sweep and comprehension of mind, blended with the piercing sagacity of annalytic talents. But he is not the master of eloquent diction. He rarely speaks, yid when he does so, it is always to the pointy and with admirable cornmou sense, yet never with grandeur of language and the rich glow of sparkling illustraction. if fact, the race of giant statesmen in America seems now to be extinct. All our orators talk if they were tongue-tied, or speak, like Dem osthenes may be imagined to have done when extemporising 011 the sea sh >re byway of practice—with pebbles in their mouths. They have argument, information, and pretty details in abundance—fluency without force, and movement without momentum. They spend their strength in the parrotry of endless com monplace from the newspapers, without the faculty of creating so much as a single new phrase or idea. They have no animation, no celestial fire, and never exhibit those sublime explosions of original genius, which come and go with the power of sun-bursts, and all the beauty of rainbows, in the stormy atmosphere of burning discussion. And so great is this desert barrenness, that one is almo>t tempted to adopt the European hypothesis as to the actual degeneracy of the species in America, were it not so amply refuted by the glorious achievements of American intellect in every sphere of thought, save the waste of politics, so dreary and unproductive. SYMPATHY FOR THE ERRING. —Of how much of our iudignat'on against even a deliberate wrong would we be disarmed, if we could but know for ourselves a tithe of all the sorrow, and trouble, and disappointment the poor er ring heart had passed through !—what efforts were made in youth to stand up against the pressure of the world ; and how, when fallen, from miscalculation, or an over confiding na ture or want of tact, it bravely rose up and tried again ; and when hard necessity came aud drove it to the wall, how it looked around for help, and waited, still striving to stand up right, and fell while striving ; and even when fallen, how it yearned for one more chance to rise and be a man—how loth at last to give up all for lost ! Could we but see a thousandth part of the struggles, as tliey rend our brother's bosom, and almost break his heart, how should it disarm us of our viudictiveness, and incline us even to run to him, and rise liirn up, and stand by him, and with godlike forgiveness, bid him " Try, try again !" A MOTHER'S LOVE. —Oh ! there is nn endur ing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to be chilled by selfishness, nor daunted by danger, nor weakened by wortli lessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She w ill sacrifice every comfort for his convenience ; she will surrender every pleasure to his enjoymenj; she will glory in his fame and exult in his pros perity ; and if misfortune overtake hiui, he will be dearer to her from his misfortune ; and if disgrace settles on his name, she will still love and cherish him in spite of his disgrace ; and if all the world beside cast him oft', she will be all the world to him.— Washington Irving. HUSBAND AND WlFE— Between yon two, lot no third person come to share the secret grief or joy that belongs to your two hearts alone. Let neither father, mother, brother, 110 sister he the confidant of that which concerns your domestic peace. Bear all things, suffer all things ; but iu silence and sadness. Let a moment of alienation, or years of estrange ment, be healed and forgotten in after mo ments and years of intense love ; but never let the wall of another's confidence be built up between you and your wife's or husband's heart The Stolen Secret—lron and Steel. The main distinction between iron and steel is, oue holds carbon, or the matter of char coal, whereas the other does not. The auiouut of charconl is trivial, and is impurted by heat ing bars for a long period together, surround ed by powdered, broken churcoul in a box.— Having regard, then, to this operation, it seems natural enough that the outer portion of each bur should become more steehjied (if I may be allowed to coin un expressive word) than the internal portion. Now, steel of this sort, though good for many purposes, is ob jeetiouable for others. To give un example, it is by uo means good for the manufacture of watch springs ; nevertheless, before the inven tion of cast steel, to which the reader's atten tion is shortly to be directed, watch springs had to be made of it. There lived iu Attcrcliffe, near Sheffield, about the year 1700, a watchmaker, named llunt.sman. He was very much dissatisfied with the quality of steel of which watch springs were made in his duy, and set himself to the task of thinking out the cause of in feriority. Mr. Huntsman consequently infer red that the imperfection of such watch springs as came iu his way was referuble to the fact of the irregular conversion of steelification of the metal of their manufacture. " If," thought he, " I cuu melt a piece of steel and east it in to an ii.got, the composition of the latter j should be regular and homogeneous." He tried and succeeded. The fame of Huutsmau's steel became wWely spread, but tlie discoverer took care not lo designate it by the name of cast steel, under which it is now familiarly known. This was his secret. About the year 1770, a large manufacture of this peculiar steel was established at Atter cliffe. The process was wrapt iu secrecy by every means which the inventor could command. None but workmen of credit and character were engaged, and they were forbidden to dis close the secret of the manufactory by a strin gent form of oath. At length Huntsman's secret was stolen in the following manner : Oue mid winter night, as the tull chimney of the Attercliffe steel works belched forth its smoke, giving promise of u roaring lire within, a traveler, to whom the desire of placing him self near a roaring fire might seem a reasona ble longing, knocked at the outer door of Mr. Huntsman's factory. It was a bitter cold night ; the snow fell fast, and the wind howl ed across the moor ; nothing, then, could seem more natural than that the tired wayfarer should seek a warm corner where lie might lay his head. A workman presented himself, whom the wayfarer addressed, humbly begging ad mission. "No admittance here, except on business." The reader may well fancy how this intimation fell upon the tired traveler's ear 011 such au inclement night. But the workman scanning the traveler over and discovering nothing sus picious about him, granted the request, aud let him in. Feigning to be completely worn out with cold and fatigue, the wayfarer sank upon the floor of the comfortable factory, and soon up peared to have gone to sleep. To go to sleep, however, was far from bis intentiou. The traveler closed his eyes, all but two little chinks. Through these two little chinks he saw all that he cured to see He saw workmen cut bars of steel into little bits, place them iu crucibles, and with cuormous tongs pour their liquid into a mould. Mr. Huntsman's factory had nothing to disclose. This was the secret of cast steel. It would lie easy to extend the list of man ufactured secrets disclosed in the dishonest way indicated above.— London Leisure Hours. PEACE AT HOME. —It is just as possible to keep a calm house as a clean hou-e, a cheerful house, an orderly house, as a furnished house, if the heads set themselves to do it. Where is the difficulty of consulting each other's weaknesses as well as each other's wants ? each other's temper, as well as each other's health ?—each other's comfort, as well as each other's character ? Oh ! it is by leaving the peace of home to chance, instead of pursuing it as a system, that so many houses are unhap py It deserves notice that almo>t any one can be courteous, aud forbearing, aud patient, in a neighbor's house. If anything go wrong or be out of time, or disagreeable there, it is made the best of, and not the worst ; even efforts are made to excuse it, and to show that it is not felt, or if felt it is attributed to acci dent, not design ; and this is not only easy, hut natnral iu the house of a frieud. We will not, therefore, believe that what is so natural in the house of another, is impossible at home ; but maintain without fear that all the courte sies of social life may he maintained iu do mestic society. A husband as willing to he jdeased at home, and as anxious to please as in his neighbor's house ; a wife as intent to making things comfortable every day to her family, as on set days to her guests, could not lail to make their own home happy. Let 11s not evade the point of these re marks by recurring to the maxim about allow ances for temper. It is worse than follv to refer to our temper, unless we could prove that we ever gained anything good by giving way to it. Fits of ill humor pain us quite as much, if not more, than those they are vented upon ; and it actually requires more effort, and inflicts more pain to give them up, than would be re quisite to avoid them. BRIGHT AND GI.OOMY HOURS. —Ah ! this heau'iful world Indeed, I know not what to think of it. Sometimes it is all gladness and aud sunshine, and heaven itself is not far oft'. And then it changes suddenly and is dark and sorrowful, and the clouds shut out the sky. In the lives of the saddest of 11s there are bright days like this when we fell as if we could take the gr< c.' world in our arms. Then come the gloomy hours, when the fire will neither burn in our hearts nor on our hearth, and nil with out and within is dismal, cold and dark.— Believe me, "every heart haj its secret sorrows which the world knows not, and-oftentimes we call a man cold when he ie only gad. VOX,. XX—KO. 9. To liESL'SCITATE THE DnOWNUO.— A.S this itf the season for bathing and for fatal accidents in the water, we prepare the following direc tions for the guidauce of those who may need to use them. We believe lliey embody all that is material in restoring a drowned person though of course a person who hus been long submerged would require the treatment of a careful physiciau after being revived : Use no harsh means, such as rolling on a barrel, rolling on the ground, hanging by tire heels, or any of the relics of a barbarous age. Have the body immediately stripped and wiped dry, and either carried to a bed or placed upon dry blankets, with plenty of covering ready to retain the heat that you may succeed in rousing. Then commence inflating the lungs in such a manner as to make an artificial breathing ; this may be done by holding the nose of the person and forcing through the mouth into the lungs sufficient uir for a natural breath, imme diately expelling it by an upward pressure just below the ribs. Or, the air may be thrown into the lungs by applying the pipe of a bel lows to one nostril, while holding the other nostril und mouth firmly closed. This inflation of the lungs is the sheet an chor, and must uot be intermitted, except to turn the head and body upon the side to let out any water that may be forced iuto the throat and mouth. While tins inflation is going on, let as many warm, dry hands be rubbing the limbs, as can be employed ; or let the body be enveloped in hot flannels, and cloths wrung from hot water be applied ; at all events get and keep the body warm. These two points—getting the lungs to breatiling and the body warm—are the main chance, and in fact the only chance ; and the treatment must not Ire stopped for anything else until tlie person is given over for dead. This method oi treatment is so simple that it can be conducted by any person of common sense, and should not be discontinued for at least live or six hours. It may be that the application of electrici ty, after the other treatment is fairly at work, may serve to rouse vitality, but of this we are in doubt, and believe it should uot be too free ly used.— North and South. MOBIUZATIOX. —Some of our readers may have been puzzled regarding the meaning of this word—" mobilization " —which has, of late, frequently appeared in our Etiropeun in telligence. Prussia has " mobilized " her army } that is, she lias placed her army in a condition to take the field—-to mure to auy point where its services may be required. The military system of Prussia rests upon an organization which divides the forces of the monarchy into two armies—the one the army of the line, as regular troops ; the other, the army of reserve, or the militia who are called the landwehr, and which consists of the men who, having passed thrrugh the army of the line, are subject to landwehr duty; from their twenty-fifth to their thirty-second year. Besides the landwehr, which is divided into a first and second levy, according to age, lliero is the landstrum, or general levy, which com prises men between the ages of forty and fifty years. The Kingdom is divided iuto eight military districts, and the landwehr of the first levy are called out of their districts once a year for fifteen day's drill. Each regiment of the line or regular army, has a corresponding reg iment of the landwehr attached to it, and the Prussian army is said to be mobilized when tho corresponding number of the landicehr of tho first levy are called iuto service in connection with each division of the regular army. Tims (he army is doubled by mobilization. Tho regiments mobilized do uot leare their military districts until orders are given to that effect, but tliey arc held in readiness to more—that is, lhey arc in a mobile or moveable state. SOLDIERS OF the REVOLUTION. —The Pension office had upon its roll 011 the 30th of June, 18f>9 the names of 253 revolutionary soldiers. Of this small rcmaut of of heroes, information has been received that during the succeeding half year 40 went to their long account, leav ing upon the first day of the present year 207 survivors. The ages of some of these soldiers are stated to have been from 100 to 103 years. Thus u dwitiding away the small number of that gallant band which has come down to us from a former generation, to pass forever from the earth before this generation shall have finished its work. At the period above refer red to there were 4 200 wi lows of revolution ary ,-oldiers upon the pen-ion rolls, and in six I mouths death diminished that number by 200. ' Of those living at the beginning of this year, j 45 were the wives of revolutionary soldiers be- I fore the termination of the great struggle.— 11 ~ushington Const itufion. COMMIMO.V WITH Gor.— A monarch vested .in gotgeou> habiliments is far less illustrious than a kneeling suppliant ennobled and adorn ed by communion with God. Consider how august a privilege it is when angels are pre sent, when Cherubim and Seraphim encircle with their blaze the throne, that a mortal may approach with unrestrained confidence, and converse with heaven's dread Sovereign. O ! what honor was ever conferred I k-this? j When a Christian stretches forth his hands to pray, and invokes his God, in that moment he leaws behind htm all terrestrial pursuits, and traverses, on the wings of intellect, the realms of light ; he contemplates celestial objects on ly, and knows not of the present state of things during the period of his prayer, provided that pruver be breathed with fervency. A negro, on being examined, was asked if his master was a Christian. "No, sir, he's a Member of Congress," was the reply. WHEN the sturdy Quaker, William Pern, was introduced to Ohas. 11. Ire kept on bis hat " Friend Penn,"eaid the good matured monarch, "it is the custom of this court for only one person to be covered at a time and tiieu his majesty took off his h*t.
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