OVE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. T OWANDA: Thursday Morning, May 24, 1860. [From the Century.] REST. I. Down in the sunlight, Silent, serene, Sleeping in quietude, Stretches the green— Valleys successively Stretching away, Hazy and dreamily Blossomed in May. All o'er the glad hills Peaceful and fair, Hushes the sunlight Boay and rare. Gently each loving breese Quivers the aspen leaves, Nlurmaring sweet Aud low, plaintiv* caress. 11. Bathed in the balmy air, Bosomed so gently there, Deep in the vale, J A> ! the old house appears Home of my boyhood years, Peaceful and dear. Oh! how my heart is filled! How its Rad depths are thrilled— Palsied and drear! Fond hopes it cherished, fled ; Withered its love, and dead- Witliered and sear. Back from the restless tide, Off of lifr's eceaw wide, Surging unrest^ Weary the haunts of mes, Home 1 am come again. Hallowed and blest! 111. Welcome 1 The joyous sound Echoes on hill and dale ; Echoes in hearts around— Hearts of the Vale. Peace in the slumbrous haze ; Peace in the dr* amy days. Gliding away— Wrapt in the summer maze, Best in its tender gaze! Wanderer stay! H. W. Trials of Early Methodism. {We have marked several passages for qno- Intion from the late work of Dr. Peck, " Early Methodism." The following is an interesting sketch of an adventurous trip of the Rev. G. Harmon, Presiding Elder, iu 1812 :] The Rev. Georee Harmon took charge of the Susquehanna district iu lfel2,and traveled upon it three years. The following incidents and adventures we have taken from "a short sketch" of the life and labors of Mr. Harmon, written by himself, front the papers of his daughter, the late Hester Ann Harmon, and from Mr. Harmon's mouth on a late vist at Camillus. Iu relation to bis district Mr. Harmon says: " I commenced on the south end, about one hundred miles north of Baltimore. It exten ded north to within twenty miles of Utica, in the State of New York, and from the Dela ware lliver ou the east, to the Genesee on the west. It was at least one thousaud miles around it. Such roads ! such hills 1 such moun tains ! I broke down several horses during tnv term of service on this district.' The great point of adventure and romance In real life was the Lycoming route, ljetweem i Western New York and WiUiamsport, on the i west branch. Towanda Creek, Sugar Creek, and Lycoming head near together 5 the two former emptying into the north branch below Tioga, and the latter into the west branch 1 near WiUiamsport. From the head of the Lycoming to its uiouth is about thirty miles, and in passing down it had to be forded thir ty-four times. It is a deep and rapid stream, upon which small rafts of lumber were run in the spring. One of Mr. Harmon's perilous trips through this route he gives as follows ; •' I held a quarterly meeting ou the north part of the district, my next, being on the ! south part. I had to pass through the sixty ; mile wilderness. I took what was called the j Lycoming route. It was in the winter, the ! snow between two and three feet deep. I lodged all night at Spalding's tavern, near the 1 head of the Towauda. I started early the ! next morning and rode some eight miles to Brother Soper's, on the Lycoming, and took breakfast. 1 then set out for WiUiamsport. When I came to what was considered the most dangerous crossing place on the route, I found the river frozen over about ouc-tbird of the way on each side. The snow, as above stated, was from two to three feet deep, and no one had passed to open the road. I pansed for a minute. I could not go back to Brother So -swr's, some ten or fifteen miles, the last house [ had passed ; the sun had gone down. If I oould cross there was a log tavern within about one mile. I knew the greatest danger would be in getting on the ice on the other side, for should the ice break I and my horse would go under. 1 must venture it. I saw no other course. I was on a very spirited and powerful horse. I urged him forward, and when his teet touched the bottom his head went uuder water. As he rose on bis biod feet I pat both spirs into his flauks and he at once bouuded off into the river. The water was so deep that it ran over the tops of my 'ooots as I sat upon his back. I got through without further difficulty. • •''Xfhep J reached the tavern my first care was t6 have hpfse attended to. But when I attempted to take oSi ipy bpptg tfiey were frozen to my stockings. I sooceeded after a while in removing them. I had, Dot long be fore, read Dr. Rush on the use of spirituous liquors. That great man acknowled they had thfeir use in certain cases, but there could be no use in which it wonld Dot be better to pour them in the swiil-pa.il, and put both feet in THE BRADFORD REPORTER. them, than to drink them. I bought half a pint of rum and bathed myself in it. I slept comfortably oud took no cold. But my poor horse ! the fatigue of worrying through the snow, and so often fording the river, so affec ted his limbs that I had to part with him at a great sacrifice." The next spring Mr Harmon held aquartely meeting for Canisteo circuit at Squire Buck ley's on the Cowniskey. He says : "My next meeting being at or near Williamsport, I re solved to take a new route through the wilder ness. I passed through what is now celled Wellsborougb, a flourishing village and county seat, but at that time the enterprising pioneers were jnst commencing their settlements. When I reached the last house iu the settlement it was about one o'clock. I took some refresh ments and fed my horse. The family told me it was doubtful whether I could get through, it being in the spring, and there being nothing to guide me but marked trees. Not even a footman had been through since the last au tumn. and it was probable the path would be blocked up with fallen trees. " Being on an excellent horse I ventured on, but had not gone far before my difficulties j commenced Trees were blown down, and the path, at best a blind one, was blocked up. Iu some places I had to rile ten or fifteen rods around to get through, aud then work my way on to find the path again. At length it began to be dark, and in a short time I could not set the path or the marked trees. My horse seemed bewildered. In the midst of tny perplexity I thought I heard the sound of an axe. I started for it as straight as pos sible, and soon saw a light and a man chop ping. lie had taken up a lot in the wilder ness, there being no house within six or eight miles. lie had built a large fire and was chopping by its light. As soon as I thought I was near enough to make him hear me I hailed him. He was astonished to hear a ha- J man voice at that distauce in the wilderness, | and told me to stop immediately, as I must be on the brink of a precipice. There was a gulf between us and he would try to get to me ( with a torch light. Of course I came to a full stop. When he reached the place I was astonished to find that not more than a rod before me there was a yawning gulf, and a steep pitch of some fifteen or twenty feet down. The cold chills ran through me. The good woodsman hunted around and found the path If I could have crossed the gulf with ray horse I should have stayed with the man in the words, but that could not be done, and it was uusafe to leave ray horse alone, as he might be devoured by the panthers, wolves, and bears. So I concluded to try to get to the black house, some six miles ahead. The black house was a mere whiskey shanty. " When I reached the desired house, be-; hold ! the family had deserted it, and I had | no a'tcrnntive but to push ahead. Some six or eight miles further across Laurel Mouutaia I found a stopping place. Here I found a com fortable log tavern, with good accommodations for nrau aud beast. It was then about eleven o'clock. 1 had my horse taken care of, eat a good supper, prayed with the family, went to bed, and had a refreshing night's rest. The rest of the route was more pleasant, and I reached Williamsport in safety. I,ORE.VZO now. The eccentric Lorenzo Dow commenced traveling and preaching in 1798, being then but eighteen years of age. He was appoin ted to Cambridge circuit with Timothy Dewey. In 1799 he was appointed to Essex, but soon left his circuit under a strong impression that he had a special mission to Ireland. Away he went across the ocean, and for some time at tracted considerable attention in Ireland aud England. He was dropfied by the conference, and never again connected himself with the ! itinernancy in the regular way, but traveled and preached independently, being responsible to no ecclesiastical body. Still Dow was a : Methodist in doctrine and in feeling, and often I rendered valuable service to the Methodist Episcopal Church in varions ways. When Colbert heard him at the Union meeting it had not been long since his return from Europe, and he was now rambling up and down the country and attracting vast crowds of earnest and astonished listeners. He ofteu preached with great power, and was the means of many awakenings and convul sions. He was zealous, shrewd, often witty, evangelical, bold, and eccentric. He was an original. There was never but one Lorenz.o Dow. He found acongeuial spirit in "Peggy," whom he married, and who traveled with him over the continent, sharing, as far as possible, in his labors aud privations. He spent years in the south among the planters and the slaves, but rested at no point for any considerable time. He often traveled through our terri i tc: i°s, preaching us he went to vaA multitudes. We heard him for tiie first time in Cazeuovia, ! in 1816. lie stood in the piazza of the old i Madison Ci unty House, ou the second story, and addressed thousands who stood on the i green. He drove his own carriage, rode sorac , times at the rate of forty to fifty miles a day, I and preached four or five times. He passed on west al>out four weeks previously, and ad dressed all who could be hurried together without previous notice, and left an uppoiot ment for a particular day and hour on his re tarn, which be promptly met, and then disap- I peared. Of course horse flesh suffered sadly nuder Dow's hands. On being once rebuked by a friend for a want of mercy to his beast, he replied : " Souls are worth more than old horses." He was stoop-shouldered, a confirmed as thmatic, breathing and speaking apparently with great difficulty. His voice was harsh, being worn threadbare by constant use ; his shoulders mooving convulsively up and dot(D, as he worked his vocal organs as laboriously as a man would work at a dry pump, although with a little more success, lie never shaved; his hair hang negligently down his back and over his shoulders in long, undressed twists. He seemed to hare as little to do with soap aud water as with a razor. All this helped to make np a character such as no one bad ever seen before. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " REFFLARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." Lorenzo was a brare polemic. He availed the issue with unmerciful severity. In many of his sermons he undertook a complete refu tation of Atheism, Deism, Universalism, and Calvinism. He figured considerably as a writer. We have before us a copy of his " Polemical works; New York, printed and sold by J. C. TotteD, 9 Bowery, 1814 ;" a 12 mo. of 300 pages. His Journals, and those of his wife ' Peggy,' are quite voluminous. His writiugs have passed through various edi tions, and have beeo extensively circulated and read. Most of them are quite readable ; some of them instructive. His mode of reasoning may be seen in his " Chain of five Links, two Hooks, and a Swivel." He often reasons con secutively and logically, and not unfrequently deals in aphorisms and sarcasms, which are more telling upon common minds than the se verest logic. " A double L does not spell a part and, "You can and you cant, you shall and you shan't ; you'll be damned if you do, and you'll be damned if you don't," announced and reiterated in the hearing of thousands, were often more terrible blows inflicted upon the Calvinistic doctrines of limited atonement and the decree of reprobation than the most learned and ingenious reasoning. Dow held himself bound by no conventional laws of society. He feared nobody, and cared for nothing beyond the simple claims of con science. He was just as likely to open his batteries against Galvanism in a Presbyterian church as anywhere else. The fear of man was net a snare to this singular character ; nor was he very much restrained by the com mon laws of courtesy. lie seemed to take it for granted,that when he was invited to a pul pit, he entered it by common consent, eccen tricities and all. He was deeply interested in New England politics at the time the question of Church and State was agitated, and contributeli his full share iu the reduction of "the stauding or der " to a level with other denominations. He ofteu rallied vast assemblies, and held them for three, and even four hours together, upon the impolicy and the vices of religious estab lishments, or the support of*a particular de nomination by law, and the support of the ministry by taxation. Iu those discourses the most terrible facts came out without the least matigation —such as selling a poor man's cow at auction to pay the minister. And there was no use in murmurs of dissatisfaction. The more " the galled jade mincbed" the heavier the burden was heaped upon his back. It was Lorenzo Dow, and there was no use in saying a word. Every effort in the way of trying to sustaiu the old order of thiugs really, as he used to say, only made a bad matter worse. Dow performed many curious antics, which were published in the pa|ters and rehearsed everywhere until they became familiar as house hold words. As a specimen, the story of his raising the devil may suffice. Dow pnt up at a tavern in the South, and soon discovered that th# landlord was absent from home, and that there was so nuusnal intimacy between the landludy and a gentleman visitor. The landlord returned in the evening, as it would seem, unexpectedly, and put his good lady and her friend in a panic. Under the directions of the lady the terrified visitor jumped into an empty hogshead and the lady covered him with cotton. The landlord came in half drank, but was most affictionate/i/ received by his good wife. Upon finding Dow in the house,he very uncermoniously demanded that he should raise the devil from him. alleging that he had often heard that he could do it. Dow deelined.but the landlord insisted. " Yon will be frightem ed when you see him," said Dow "No I shan't," added the brave man. " Well," said Dow, " if I must raise the devil I mustaud and taking the candle in his hand, he said, " Follow me." Passing into the back room, and coming up to the hogshead, he adroitly lighted the cotton with the candle, and, sure enough, up came the devil enveloped in a blazel Not a word did his satanic majesty say, but instantly disappeared. The fellow was com pletely deceived, and the next day went before a magistrate and made oath that Dow really raised the devil iu his bouse, and he saw him. The matter being likely to call for a repetition of the miracle, and it not being probable that he would meet with the concurrence of the same favorable circumstances, Dow was oblig ed to make a public explanation. Dow's last special mission was to expose the Jesuits. He lectured long and loud upon the wiles of the disciples of Loyola ; showed up their eternal intermeddling with politics, and their designs upon the free institutions of this country. He expounded the prophecies, quoted history, poured out a flood of invective and warned the nation most solemnly of the perils which were impending. On his way to Washington, for the purpose of enlightening and awaking the government upon the subject he passed through Wyoming. He delivered several powerful discourses in the old church in Kingston, and passed on South. In one of ! his discourses, he said the Jesuits were watcb | ing him, and would kill him if they dare, but I knowing that if he should be missing they would be suspected, they dare not molest him. He went on to Washington, and there died sud denly a few weeks after this. Some sormised that he was poisoned by the Jesuits ; whether this was so, or whether he died of organic affection of the heart, or from some other cause, we know not. Lorenzo Dow was a strange specimen of humanity. He was called, and often called himself,crazy Dow.'' He was not a lunatic, nor was he a monomaniac for if he was insane on one point, he was equally so on many.— He was so eccentric as to the border on insan ity in everything. Hie conduct could not with justice be judged of by the ordinary laws of social or conventional propriety. Upon the whole, we always had a very high opinion of bis piety and his integrity. He was a straDge good man—a man of rare natural endowments bet with an intellect of so peculiar a cast as to consti ate him a great oddity, and in some re spects an enigma. In his day he did much good and some harm. His influence upon the mind of the public, fairly entitles biw to a place iu the history of the Church and of the times in which he lived. Amputating a Limb under Chloroform. We will take a quiet post of observation in the area of the operating theatre at one of our metropolitan hospitals, in this year of our Lord 1860. Notice is posted that amputa tion of the thigh will be performed at two o'clock, p. mi, and wo occupy onr seat ten minutes before the hottf. The area itself is small, of a horse shoe form, and surrounded by seats rising on a steep incline one above another, to the nnmber of eight or nine tiers Prom 100 to 150 students occupy these, and pack pretty closelt, especial ly on the lower rows, whence the best view is obtained. For an assemblage of youths be tween eighteen and twenty-five years, who have nothing to do bat to wait, they are tol erably well behaved and quiet. Three or four practical jokers, however, it is evident, are distributed among them, and so the time pass es all the quicker for the rest. The clock had Dot long struck two when the folding-doors open, and in walk two or three of the leading surgeons of the hospital, followed by a staff of dressers, and a few pro fessional lookers-on, the latter being confined to seats reserved for them on the lower and innermost tier. A small table, covered with instruments, occupies a place on one of the area ; water, sponges, towels and lint are placed on the opposite. The snrgeon who is about to operate rapidly glauces over the ta ble, and sec c that all his instruments are there and in readiness. He requests a colleague to take charge of the tourniquet, and with a word puts one assistant to " take the flaps," another to hold the limb, a third to hand the instruments, aud the last to take charge of the sponges. This done, and while the patient is inhaling the chloroform in an adjoining apartment, un der the care of a gentlemau who makes that bis special duty, the operator gives to the now hashed and listening auditory a brief history of the circumstances which lecV to an incura ble disease of the left knee-joint and the rea sons why he decides on the operation about to he performed. He has scarcely closed, when the unconscious patient is brought in by a couple ot sturdy porters, and laid upon the operating table, a small but strong and steady erection, four feet long by two feet wide, which stands in the centre of the erea. The left be- ing the doomed leg, the right is fastened by a bandage to one of the supports of the table, • so as to be out of harm's way, while the dress- ! er, who has special charge of the case, is seat- j ed on a low stool at the foot of the table, and supports the lefe. The surgeon who assists, encircles the upper part of the thigh with the tourniquet, placing its pad over the femoral artery, the chief vessel which supplies the limb with blood, and prepares to screw up the instrument, thus to make sure that no consid- , erable amount of the vital fluid can be lost.— j The operator standing on the left side of the j corresponding leg, and holding in his right hand a narrow, straight knife, of which the i blade is at least ten inches long, and looks j marvellously bright and sharp, directs his! eye to him who gives the chloroform, and j awaits the signal that the patient has become j perfectly insensible. All is silence and pro- , found 5 every assistant stands in his place, , which is carefully arranged so as not to inter- i nipt the view of those around. The words " quite ready," are no sooner whispered, than the operator, grasping firmly with his left hand the flesh which forms the front part of the patient's thigh, thrusts quiet ly and deliberately the sharp blade horizontal ly through the liuib, from its inner side, so that the thigh is transfixed a little above its central axis, and in front of the bone. He next cuts directly downwards in the plane of the limb, for about four inches, and then obliquely outward, so as to form a flap, which is seised and turned upwards out of the way, by the appointed assistant. A similar trans fixion is again made, commencing at the same spot, but the knife is this time carried behind the bone; —and, a similar incision follows, and another flap is formed and held away as before. Lastly, with a rapid circular 1 sweep around the boue he divides all left un- , cut j and banding the knife to an assistant, who takes it and gives a saw in return, the operator divides the bone with a few more workman-like strokes, and the limb is severed from the body. A rustling sound of general movement and deeper breathing is heard among the lookers-on, who have followed with I straining and critical eyes every act which lias ! contributed to the accomplishment of the task ; and some one of the younger students is heard to whisper to his neighbor, " Five and thirty seconds ; not bad, by Jove !" The operator now seats himself on the stool just vacated by the dresser, who has carried away the leg, and seeks in the cut surfaces be fore him the end of the main artery on which to place a ligatare. There is no flow of blood, only a little ooxing, for the tourniquet holds life's current hard and fast. Only five min utes' uncontrolled flow of the current from that great artery, now so perfectly compressed, and onr patient's career in this world would be closed for ever. How is it permanently held in check ? and what have we to substitute now for the hissing, sparkling, and spattering iron, and the boiling pitch ? The operator takes hold of the cut end of the artery with a slender, delicately made pair of forceps, and draws it out a little, while an assistant passes round the end to draw ont a ligature of very fine whipoord, fine but strong, and care fully ties it there with double knot, and so ef fectually closes the vessel. A similar process is applied to perhaps six or seven other bnt smaller vessels, tonruiqnet is removed, and no bleeding ensuetf. Altogether, the patient has lost little more than half-a pint of blood. The flaps are placed io opposition, the bone is well covered by them, a few stitches arc put through their edges, some cool wet lint is applied all around the stump, aud the patient, slamber iDg peacefully, is carried off to a comfortable bed, ready prepared in some adjacent ward.— Half an hour hence that patient will regain consciousness, and probably the first observa tion he makes will be, " I am quite ready fur the ojieration, when is it going to begin?'' And it takes no little repetition of the assur ance that all is over to make him realize the happy truth. A BLAUTIFLL EXTRACT. —It was night. Jeru salem slept as quietly amid her hills as a child upon the breast of it mother. The noiseless sentinel stood like a statue at his post, and the philosopher's lamp burned dimly in the recess of his chamber. But a dark night was abroad upon the earth. A mortal darkness involved the na tions in its uuligbted shadows. Reason shed a faint glimmeriug over the minds of men, like the cold and insufficient shining of a distant star. The immortality of man's spiritual nature was unknown, his relations to heaven undis covered, and his future destiny obscured iu a cloud of mystery. It was at this period that two forms of etberial mould hovered around the land of God's chosen people. They seemed like sister angels sent to earth on some embassy of love. The one of majestic stature and well formed limb, which her snowy drapery hardly con cealed, in her erect bearing and steady eye, exhibited the highest degree of strength and confidence. Her fight arm extended in an im pressive gesture upwards where height appear ed to have placed her darkest pavillioD, while on the left reclined her delicate companion ; in form and countenance the contrast of the other, for she was drooping like a flower when moistened with refreshing dews, and her bright but troubled eyes scanned the air with ardent, but varying glances. Suddenly a light like the sun flashed out from the heavens, and Faith and Hope hailed with exulting songs the ascending star of Bethlehem. Years rolled away, and the stranger was seen in Jerusalem. He was a meek nnassnm | ing man, whose happiness seemed to consist in acts of benevolence to the human race. There j were deep traces of sorrow on his countenance though no one knew why he grieved, for he lived in tne practice of every virtue, and was luved by all the good and wise. By and by it was rumored that the stranger worked mira ; cles, that the blind saw, the dumb spake, the i dead reappeared, the ocean moderated its chafing tide ; and ihe very thunders articulat ed, he is the Son of God. Envy assailed him to death. Slowly, aud thickly girded, he ns iceudedthe hill of Calvary. A heevy cross | bent him to the earth. But Faith leaned on i his arm, and Hope, dipping her pinions iu his I blood, mounted to the skies. THE ISOLATION OK SICKNESS. —I see spring budding, flowering, leaf-starting, and verdue brigbteuing, in wonderous beauty out-of-doors —but within me ! I am left behind while this gay procession is gliding past me t ! We are no less islanded on our sick-bed because we are tenderly watched and kindly administered to. ! It is across a gulf that they reach to us— they with whom we no longer sit down to eat, j or go forth to walk, or converse carelessly and | gaily. The mail comes in as usual with its news, but from a world with which my pulses I are not in tune. The sun rises over familiar rivers and mountains that I cannot now travel, , on well-remembered labor and pleasure that I j cannot share. Children come in to see me,; but not their usual frolicsomeness and freedom. Their voices are subdued with a vague awe of the paler face and the invalid surroundings. Of what 1 know as" the world," I am no lon ger a longer necessary to its present day's doings and competences. And, strange ly enough, there is no pain in this conscious dismemberment from the life around. As to the mere instinct, it is like undressing for sleep when weary—laying off the clothes tliat to wear with comfort we must be stroug and wakeful. BETTER IN THEORY THAN IN PRACTICE. —Not many years ago two young Frenchman—one wealthy and in possession of ready cah, the other poor aud penniless—occupied by chance the same room in a suburban hotel. In the moruing, the seedy one arose first, took from his pocket a pitol, and holding it to bis own forehead,and backing against the door,exclaim ed to his horriGed companion:—" It is my last desperate resort ; I am penniless and tired of life ; give me five hundred francs, or I will j instantly blow out my brains, aud you will be arrested" as a murderer 1" The other passenger found himself the hero of an unpleasant dilem ma, but the cogency of his 'companion's argu ment struck him "cold he quietly crept to his pantaloons, handed over the amount, aud the other vamosed, after locking the door on the outside. Hearing of this, another French man, of very savage aspect, oue night contriv ed to room with a tall rawboned gentleman | from Arkansas,who had been rather free of his money during the day, and evidently had plen ty more behind. Next morning, "Pike,"awak ing, discovered his room mate standing over 1 him with a pistol leveled at his own forehead, ' and evidently quaking with agitation. " What in are you standing thar for in the cold ?" I asked Pike, propping himself on his elbow,and and coolly surveying the Gaul. " I am des peratt !" was the reply ; " you gives tome oue ' hundred dollar or I blows out mine prains !' | " Well then, blow and be darned !" replied Pike turning over. " Bote you vill be arrest for ze meurtre," persisted Gaul, earnestly.— "Eh what's tbut ?" said Pike ; " oh, I see 1" —aud suddenly drawing a revolver and a large Bowie from nnder his pillow, he sat upright " A man may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb," he coolly shouted ; aud at the word he started foi the Gaul, but the latter was too nimble—the " hoss pistol," innocent of lead, exploded in the air, with one frantic leap onr little Frenchman was standing in his night-robe at the foot of the staircase. A proof that what may suit one latitude will not always answer for another. AONCE TO YOUNG MEN. —Get a piece of caiico that wHI waAi, VOL. XX. —NO. 51. Tlie Cattle Disease in Massachusetts^ This terrible epidemic, by its continuous spreading, threatens to become one of the greatest scourges that has ever visited our country. The imagination is appalled at the contemplation of the thousands of herds from Maine to Texas being visited by this wasting and fatal malady. The suffering and anxiety from the loss of property and from the dread of its loss among the agricultural community, and the fear of diseased meat in all our cities, may be partly conceived but cannot be fully realized. It seems that the Legislature of the State has been aroused to the importance of the matter. A law has been passed for tbo appointment of three commissioners to investi gate the subject, and authority has been given them to have slaughtered,at the expense of tbo State, all the cattle that are sick or that havo been exposed to contagion, to have their bodies buried and the barns purified—-even bnrning the hay if the commissioners think it necessa ry. The commissioners are Richard S. Fay, of Lynn, Paoli Lathrop, of South Hadley, and Arnasa "Walker, of North Brookfield. They have caused fourteeu animals to be killed,that tbey might trace the progress and character of the disease in all its stages. It is purely a disease of the lungs, affecting the animal in no other organ, and seems to be certainly con tagious. A cow that died before the com missioners arrived was examined, and both her lungs were a mass of frothy, chessy corruption. One cow that was taken sick so long ago as the Ist of January, and seemed to be recover ing.appcaring bright and healthy, was slaugh tered ; and left lobe of the lungs was sound but from the right was taken a mass of pus, looking like rooten cheese, of more than a pint in measurement. She might poisibly have thrown off the disease and lived, had'she not been killed. Another cow in the same herd, aud showing stronger signs of the disease, had a similar but greater mass of pus in the lungs, and with it a large amount of watery fluid.— An ox that looked bright and well, and ate and chewed his cud as if in a healthy condition was among the slain, and one of his lnngs was a mass of corruption. Another singular case was that of a cow that calved some ten days ago ; one lung was healthy, but in the other the disease was developing itself in scattered balls or masses of pus, looking like liver oa the outside, but, ou cuttiug, like rotten cheese; and her calf was found to have the disease iu precisely a similar stage. The presence of the disease is detected by the breathing of the ani mal, which makes a croupy noise like breath ing through a quill. It is to lioped that these energetic measures are not too late, aud it is especially to be de sired that the commissioners will allow no child ish weakness to prevent the thorough and efficient discharge-V)f their momentous duties. Contagion is so subtle in its nature, and is scat tered abroad by such widely pervading agencies that we shall be agreeably disappointed if any human power is able to arrest the spread of this deadly pestilence.—-V. Y. Scientific Amer ican. SLEEPING CSBER TFTE CI.OTHES. —There ii reason to believe, (says Miss Florence Night' ing.ale,) that not a few of the apparently un accountable cases of scrofula among children proceed from the habit of sleeping with the head under the bed clothes, and so inhaling air already breathed, which is further contamina ted by exhalations from the skin. Patients are sometimes given to a similar habit ; and it often happens that th bed clothes are so dis posed that the patient must necessarily breathe air more or less contaminated by exhalations from the skin. A cood nurse will be careful to attend to this. It is an important part, so to speak, of ventilation* It may be worth while to remark that wheu there is any danger of bed-sores, a blanket should never be placed under the patient. It retains damp and acts like a poultice. Never use anything but light Whitney blankets as bed covering for the sick. The heavy impervious cotton counterpane is badj for the very reason that it keeps iu the emanations from the sick person, while the blanket allows them to pars through. Weak persons are invariably distressed by a great weight of bed clothes, which often prevents getting any sound sleep whatever. SEASON*.'*™." ADVICE. — An exchange has the following seasonable advice on gardening for ladies : Make up your beds early iu the morning, soic buttons on your husbands shirts ; do not rake up any grievances 5 protect the young and tender branches of your family ; plan' a smile of good temper in your face, and carefully rwt ont all angry feelings and expect a good crop of happiness* GuT The Anglo Saxon elbows his way sharp ly through the world ; he has thrust his bless ings at the needy, sometimes on the point of a sword, and sent the GOSJKJI by a swift leaden messenger ; he likes harmony, if be can give the pitch, and so he is for " pitching iu.'' fey- War is a game in which kings or gov ernments seldom win, the people uevcr. To be defended is almost as great an evil as to be attacked ; aud the common people have often fouud the shield of a protector uo less oppres sive than the sword of an iavader. Qj?=*Some men seem born to be lucky j whatever they touch turns to gold—their path is paved with the philosopher's stone. At games of chance they have no chance, but, what is better a certainty, they hold four suits of trumps ; they get " windfallswithdat a breath stirring. fgy- A ton of perfect pain can be more eas ily found than an ounce of perfect happiness ; he knows little of himself or of the world, who does not think it sufficient happiness to be free from sorrow. frjr- Be upon your guard against treachery, I Remember, that when, men aud women laugh \ most, they au;i show their teeth.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers