(HE DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOAVANDA :
Thursday lilorning, November 8, 1860.
THE meeting.
Bitter was the tale I dreaded.
Grief of heart for evermore,
When from years of weary travel,
Landing on my native shore,
I sought out the ancient village
And the wcll-remembercd door.
Long it was since any tidings
Beached me wandering o'er the wave,
And my soul lor certain knowledge,
Though it held a curse, did crave—
Though tiie melancholy answer
Only echoed of the grave. >
I had left three little children
In the years of long ago—
But past joy is present sorrow j
Painfully tiie seasons How—
Who am I to he delivered
From the broken hopes below ?
1 had left an angel woman
Guardian of the tender three-
Is she dead or is she living ?
Is her spirit true to me?
Will 1 know that many winters
Cannot change her constancy.
And F sought the well loved cottage,
Skirted by the poplar tall ;
Waited b> the garden wiiket i
Listening to the waterfall ]
And I caught the pleasant odour
Of the jasmine on the wall.
Then I entered, and she knew mo,
And sank tainting in my arms,
On her lace 1 -aw imprinted
Midnight watchings. pain, alarms,
And her children clustered round ine,
t'ndiviUeiij lite from barms.
D 2. Worslf.Y .
te= 1 " 1 ' '
Ulisnllaneous.
Bread-IVI king iu Spain.
Finding tnvsclf about two leagues from
Seville, iu tlmt picturesque village of Alcude
tie Guudaira, but commonly called Alcade de
j, is Pa nwleres —or baker-. —aa almost nil tin
bread consumed i" Seville is made there, I
determined to know how it was rna No
traveler who ever visited the south of Spain
ever fails to remark, " How delicious the bread
is!" It is white as snow, close a* cake, and
vet very light; the 11 ,vor i- rnos' delicious,
for the wheat i- good and pure, and the bread
is well kneaded.
As practical demonstration it better than
Van-ay or theory, I would r.or content my
s-'.t with the description of the process of
I ' .li-aiakiiiif. but Went to the house of aba
i V. , whose pretty wife and daughter L had
;>ed to look at, us they were sorting
f - it, seated on very low stools in the
j rue, the bouse. Ii was a pretty picture ;
dirk, sparkling eyes, rosy Cheeks, and
• .uvy teeth ; their hair always beautifully
-setl, and always ornamented with natural
I ers from their little gard"i>. in the back
. land ; their bright-colored neckerchiefs
lied i.i at the lop, showing the neck ; tiit i' -
jtton gowns with short sleeves ; their hands
-ensjealously clean, and o small that many an
n ivoeratie dame might have envied them ;
-abounded by panniers filled with wheat,
which they took out, a handful at a time, sort
ing it most expeditiously, and throwing every
defective grain in another ba-ket.
\Y en this is done the wheat i ground be
tween two large circular stones, in the way it
W-LS ground in Egypt two thousand years ago.
rotary motion being given by a blindfolded
mule, winch paces round and round with un
tiring patience, a bell being uttached to his
neck, which, as long as lie is ii: movement,
link sou ; and when he stops he is urged to
- duty by the shout of " nrre nu! from
see one within hearing. When ground, tie
*!i u it is silted through three sieves, the last
i si) fine that only the pure Hour can pass
gli it ;itis of a pilc apricot color.
■ ' bread is made of an evening ; and
3 """sunset I returned to the baker's and
[ ".1 his pretty wi;e first weigh the flour,
3 'itiiea mix it with only just sufficient water,
E- t-d with a little salt, to make it into dough.
A very small quantity of leaven is added
Scripture says, " A little leaven leaveneth
'• vhnle lump but in Engl ind, to avoid
'ye trouble of kneading, they put as much
.•aven, or yeast, in one batch of household
yfeadas'm fspniu would Inst them a week for
hi? six or right donkey loads of bread they
Wiul every icglit from their oven.
A\ lieu the dough was made it was pnt in
irks, iui4 carried on the donkey's backs to
'.he oven j n tj,„ f #M ,fyf pi e villa;•>, so as to
kuke it immediately after it was kneaded.
On arriving there, the dough was divided
; ■> portions weighing three pounds each.
to iong i narrow wooden tables on tressels
w ""e then placed down the room, and, to rny
-iirpn.se, abom twenty men came in and
r ' ! -"d themselves on one side of the tables.
A lump oi dough was handed to the nearest,
Y he commenced kneading and knocking
" "'ut, aud then passed it to his neighbor, who
yie same, and so on successively, till all
-I - Kneaded it, when it was as soft as new
• -■ a " ' ready for the oven. Of course, as
W the first baker hands the loaf to his
• Ji lor, another is given to him, and so on
I ' w 'iole quantity of dough is kneaded
J bum all. lh e baker's wife aud daughter
ar it m'" -° r the oven " Some ol ,l,c loaVes
into many smaller ones and itn
■Wistel, baked. The ovens are very large,
y lires under thera ; but a
jural' ' °' herbs of the sweet mar
and th - vme . which cover the hills in great
Tec i ar i P P ut ' nto oVen a,l d is'iited. \
atnl '! l ! oven t0 aQ ext ent required ;;
?'adii l ,n " ,' rea< * P pts baked the oven gets
t y (:ullltr . fif > the bread is never burned
forcltl.,)"?!' the , brea(i ' Spain with such
but the palrn of the hand and the sec-
S*? 0lL ; W™-* hli rc covered
•is, ar,d it so affects the chest that
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
they cannot work for more than two hours at
a time. They can be heard from some dis
tance. as they give a kind of guttural sound—
ha—ha—as they work, which, they say, eases
the chest. Our sailors have the same fancy
when hoisting a sail.
1 have kept a Small loaf of Spanish bread
for several months in a dry place, and then
immersed it in boiling water and rebuked it,
and I can assure my readers that it was
neither musty nor sour.— London 'paper.
Education in Ciiina.
The boy 9 commence their studies at six or
seven years of aire. In China there is no royal
road to learning, but every boy, whatever his
rank, takes the same class-book and submits
to the same training. The school-room is a
low shed, or a back room iu some temple or
some attic in some shop, where each boy is
supplied witli a table and a stool, and the
teacher has a more elevated seat uud a larger
table. In the corner of the room is a tablet or
picture of Confucius, before which each pupil
prostrates himself on entering tlie room, and
then makes his obesiance to his teacher. He
then brings his book to the teat'her, who re
peats over a sentence or more to the pupil,
and he goes to his place repeating the same at
the top of his voice till he can repeat itirom
memory, when lie returns to his teacher, and
laving the book on the teacher's table, turns
his back botli book and teacher, and repeats
bis lesson. This is called backing his lesson.—
in this way he uoes through the volume till he
can back the whole book ; than another, then
another,till he can back the list of the classics.
The boys in tiie school, to the number of ten
to twenty, eacli go through the same process,
coming up iu turn to back their lesson, and he
that has a defective recitation receives a blow
on the head from the master's ferule of bamboo
and returns to his seat to perfect Ins lesson.—
School teachers are usually unsuccessful candi
dates for the preferment and olliee, who, not
haying habits lor business or a disposition to
labor, turn pedagogues. They receive from
each ol the pcpils a given sum, proportioned
to the means of the parents, and varying trom
three to ten or twelve dollars a year from each
pupil, and perhaps iu addition an occasional
gut ol fruit or food.
The schools are opened at early dawn, and
the boys study till nine or ten o'clock, when
they go to breakfast and after an hour or so
.eturn and study till four or five o'clock in the
afternoon, and then retire for the dav. In
winter they sometimes have a lesson iu the
evening.
Tiie first book is called the Trimetrical
Classic, which all Chinese boys begin with,
and which some of their commentators have
called a passport into the regions of classical
and historical literature. Wo should as soon
think of putting a copy of Young's Night
Thoughts into the hands of a beginner with
the expectation of seeing him master it.—
Tnese young celestials are not expected, how
ever, to understand what they read,nut simply
to memorize, and occasionally write out some
more simple character, and perhaps, after two
or three years' reading and memorizing, they
| begin to study the sentiments of the author.—
| The sons of tradesmen and mechanics seldom
study long enough to master the classics, but
gain a smattering of books, and learn to read
laud write the language sufficient to keep ac
j counts, and a little knowledge of math
ematics, when their education is ended Such
boys —and they constitute no small portion of
school boys in China—as they grow up, retain
i ! h ' •otiHtl of many characters, but are unable
to explain the meaning ola page in any com
mon book. Three or four years of schooling
! forms the sum of their education, and that is
insufficient to give any one a practical knowle
dge of the written language.— The China
Mission, ly IE Dan, J). D.
AUTJCI.ES OF DIET. —The useful articles of
• lit t are numerous, and the commonest we
have. As to the quantity required, the prize
fighter, who requires most, has thirty six oun
ces per day, besides the innutritions portion
which everybody swallows at every meal. For
women, twenty ounces may suffice, though a
larger allowance is better. Healthy working
men ought to have fro n twenty-five to thirty
ounces. The greatest amount of nourishment
of both kinds is contained in flour, meat, po
tatoes, and peas ; milk, cheese, rice, aud other
grains, and sugar ; while tea, coffee, and co
coa are of great value in their way. Such
are the materials ; but they may be so treated
iri the cooking as to waste what is most val
uable, and preserve what is of the least con
st quince. It is possible to manage the rnak
ing of a s'ew, so as to wash away the best
qualities of the meat, and leave the vegeta
bles hard, and drain away the thickening,caus
ing a predominant taste of smoke and salt.—
When Miss Nightingale and her assistants un
dertook to cook in the Eastern hospitals, they
made a pint of thick arrowroot from one
ounce of the powder, while in the general
kitchen it took two ounces to make a pint of
thiu arrowroot. It was the proper boiling of
the water that made the difference here. —
Again, two ounces of rice were saved on every
four puddings, when the nurse made the pud
dings. Such incidents show that it is not
enough to have the best materials for nourish
ment ; they must be husbanded in the prep
aration. It seemes probable that, by sensible
conduct all around, everybody might command
enough of the best material for food ; and it
is certain that a small proportion of the wives
of Englishmen know how to do justice to the
food they buy.— llarricl J\[artiveau, in Once
a Week.
A French writer has said that, to
dreain gloriously, you must act glorionsly
when awake ; and to bring angel® down to
hold converse with you in your sleep, yen
must labor in tho cause of virtue during the
day.
Oaf- Gentlemen who smoke say the mote
they fume the lees they fret.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" RESARDLE3S OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
How the Lion woos his Bride.
Let os first sketch the story of the lion's
life—beginning with his marriage, which takes
place towards the end of January. He was
first to seek his wife ; hut as the males are
far more abundant than the females, who are
often cut off in infancy, it,is not rare to find
a young lady pestered with the addresses of
three or four gallants, who quarrel with the
acerbity of jealous lovers. If one of them
does not succeed iu disabling or driving away
the others, madam, impatient and dissatisfied,
leads them into the presence of an old lion,
whose roar she has appreciated at a distance.
The lovers fly to him with the temerity of
youth and exasperation. The old fellow re
ceives them with calm ' assurance, breaks the
neck of the first with his terrible jaws, smashes
the leg of the second, and tears out the eye
of the third. No sooner is the day won and
the field clear, than the lion tosses his rnanein
the air as he roars, and then crouches by the
side of his lady, who, as a reward for his
courage, licks his wounds caressingly.
When two adult lions are the rivals, the
encounter it more serious. An Arab, perched
iu a tree one night, saw a iiouess followed by
a tawny lion, with full-grown mane | she lav
down at the toot of the tree—the lion stopped
on his path and seemed to listen. The Arab
then heard the distant growling of a lion,
which was instantly replied to by the lioness
under the tree. This made her husband roar
furiously. The distant lion was heard ap
proaching, and as lie came nearer the lioness
roared louder, which seemed to agitate her
husband, for he marched toward her as if to
force her to be quiet, and then sprang back
to his old post, roaring defiance at his distant
rival. This continued for about an hour,
when a black lion made his appearance on the
plain. The lioness aro-c as if to go towards
iiim ; but her husband, guessing her inten
tion, bounded towards his rival. The two
crouched and sprang upon each other, roiling
oir the grass in the embrace of death. Their
bones cracked, their flesh was torn, their cries
of rage and agony rent the air, and all this
time the lioness crouched and wagged her tail
slowly iu signs of satisfaction. When the
combat ended, and both warriors were stretch
ed on the plain, she arose, smelt them, satis
fied herself that they were dead, and trotted
off, quite regardless of the uncomplimentary
epithet.
This, Gerard tolls us, is an example of the
conjugal !i lolity of milady ; whereas the lion
never quits his wife unless forced, and is quite
a pattern of conjugal attention.— Westminster
Itrvieic.
Newspaper Publishing.
A veteran editor, after an experience of a
quarter of a century, gives his opinion of the
common honesty of mankind. Hear him :
" We have tried the business for more than
a quarter of a century, and regret to say that
our estimate of the aggregate honesty of
mankind has been considerably lowered.—
There is a great deal of latent, undeveloped
rascality iu the race, and if a man has any
of its composition he is sure to exhibit it
when his newspaper subscription becomes due.
Within the last ten or fifteen years wc have
been engaged in the business, wo have lost
enough money, through the rascality of our
customers, to make a man of moderate de
sires rich ! Many of those who owe us these
small amounts—from five to fifty dollars—are
rolling in wealth, and could pay any day in
the year, if they wished to do so. Many
others belong to the migratory trib, who are
here today and in Texas or California to
morrow. Others belong to a class quite nu
merous, who write to the editors to send them
papers, and they will pay when their crops or
do something else ; but pay-day never comes;
and finally, after sending liio paper for four
or five years, it is ascertained tiiut they never
were worth a snap! Another class of losses
grows out of the negligence of postmasters.
A subscriber, after taking the paper for six
months or a year, leaves the country without
giving the editor notice', and, after four or
five years have elapsed, he happens to meet
with the postmaster, who most magnanimously
informs him that Lis subscriber has gone to
'parts unknown,'and that, if he wishes to got
any pay for his paper, he had better stop it 1
or, after suffering the paper to come two or
three years, he writes to the editor that, 'for
the second or third time, he will inform hiui
that the paper is not taken out' Ac.
"These losses, and various others we might
refer to, absorb the profits of the business
to such an extent as greatly to discourage
those engaged in it.
" Although we have had our full share of
non-paying subscribers, and have been worse
swindled than any publisher we know, we
take much pleasure in saying that we have on
our books the names of many gentlemen,
whose punctuality, through a long series of
years, always paying in advance, entitles them
to be rated as the 'salt of the earth.' Oh,
for an increase of the number.
" Occasionally some one long in arrears,
moved by a tirdy sense of justice, pays his
long-standing indebtedness. We regret that
these cases are so rate."
A good story was told us (Hartford
Press) the other day about John Yan Bilren.
He had taken some technical legal advantage,
by which his opponent's client in an action
was non-suited. The man was furious, and
declared his purpose to give John a piece of
his mind when he saw him—he would wither
him. Happening to seen John one day at
Downing's standing at the bar, getting ont
side of a dozen New York bays, he boldly
confronted the Prince, and, being a small man
looked op at him fiercely, and bnrst out.—
" Mr. Van Bnren, is there any client so low
and mean, or any case so nasty,that you won't
undertake to defend him in it? "I don't
know," said John,stopping to pnt away anoth
er oyster, then bending down and confidently
drawling out bis reply in the little man's ear,
, " What have you been doing ? '
A Vegetable Mummy
Let us trace the history of a single pine
tree of the Oolite, as indicated by its petrified
remains. His gnarled and twisted trunk once
anchored it roots amid tho crannies of a pre
cipice of dark gray sandstone that rcse over
some nameless stream of the Oolite in what is
now the North Seotland. The rock which,
notwithstanding its dingy color, was a deposit
of the lower old red sandstone, formed a num
ber of the fishbeds of that system —beds that
were charged then,us not with numerous fossils
as strange and obsolete in the creation'of the
Oolite as in the creation which at present ex
ists. It was a firm, indestructible stone.cover
ed by a thin,barren soil ; and the twisted root
lets of the pine, rejected and thrown backward
from its more solid planes, had to'penetrate in
to its narrow fissures for a straitened and
meager subsistence.
The tree grew but slowly ; in considerable
more than half a century it had attained to a
diameter of little more than ten inches, a foot
over the soil ; and its bent and twisted forui
gave evidence of the life of hardships to which
it was exposed. It was, in truth.a picturesque
rag of a tree, that for the first few feet twist
ed itself round like an overborne wrestler strug
gling to escape from under his enemy,and then
struck out nn abrupt angle, and stretched it
self like a bent arm over the stream. The
seasons passed over it ; every opening spring
gave its fringe of tenderer green to its spiky
ioilage, and every returning autumn saw it
shed its cones into the stream below. Many a
delicate fern sprang up and decayed around
its gnarled and fantastic root,single leaved and
; simple of form, like the scolopcndri t of our
caverns and rock recesses, or fretted into many
a siim pinnate leaflet, like the minute maiden
| hair or the graceful Lady fern. Flying rep
tiles have perched among its boughs ; tiie
; light winged dragon fly has darted on wings
of gauze through the opening of its lesser
! twigs ; the tortoise and the lizard have hyber-
I nated during the chills of winter amid the l.ol
' low of its roots ; for many years it formed one
of the minor features in a wild and picturesque
scene, on which human eye ne'er looked 5 and,
at length,touched by decay, its upper branches
began to wither and bleach white in the winds
of heaven; when shaken by a sadden hurricane
that came roaring adown the ravine, the raa.'S
of rock in which it had been anchored gave
way, and bearing fast jammed among its roots
a fragment of the mass which we still find
there, and from which we read a portion of its
story, it was precipitated into the foaming tor
rent. Dancing on the eddies, or lingering
amid tho pools, or shooting, arrow like adown
the rapids, it at length finds its way to the
sea ; and after sailing over beds of massive
coral—the ponderous Isastre and more delicate
T/rimnastrca —and after disturbing the Hnul
losaur and the llalemnite in their deep giccn
haunts, it sinks, saturated with water, into a
lied of aranaceous mud,to make its appearance
after loug ages, in the world of man—a mar
bio mummy of the old Oolite forests—and to
be curiously interrogated regarding its charac
ter and history.— Hugh Miller's " Popular
Geology."
QUAKERS —"Friends," commonly called
Quakers,are easily singled out from the throng
eis of Broadway by the dress, which,although
the fashion cf two hundred years ago, is no
longer so except to them. We never meet
them without a respectful, affectionate draw
ing thither, accompanied with a sorrowful re
gret that there are not a hundred where there
is but one.
A true "Friend" is the embodiment of
plainness, placidity, and prosperity. The be
nevolent calmness which plays upon their fea
tures inspires iu the beholder confidence and
attachment.
But what is the secret of their universal
power of the presence and their general thrift?
Who ever knew a Quaker to be in a fidget
or a fix—the awful fix of having "nary red?"
Tiiev neither beg nor steal nor—we mean the
"true blues"—cheat. The renegades, the
half-and-half, the deserters, the impostors, and
those who have been " hove overboard " neck
and heels, we say nothing about. We are
speaking of the stern and steady sort who
have never been ashamed cf their flag or drab.
The members of the Society of Friends
have the kindly respect of all men—not the
respect of fear, but that of love. When thus ?
It is because of their distinguished trait, that
which is ever and all-pervading, they act from
a consciousness of justness. They wrong no
man ; they allow no man to wrong them. Or
if they do suffer wrong, it is for the sake of
peace, but with a protest or a " testimony "
against it, lest they might seem to connive at
evil and wrong doing.
When a man acts always from a sense of
justness, there is a freedom from fear, a con
fidence, a feeling of repose which iu time fixes
on the whole character a calmness, a serenity,
which is worth to its possessor more that gold.
Hence there is a quiet in a Quaker,and a power
too, iu that quiet,which would rout a regiment
of fussy people in any contest. The heart, the
conscience, the features, the very gait of a
Friend, all are quiet—the glorious quiet,which
nothing can ever give but an habitual conscious
ness of an all-pervading rectitude of purpose.
Tims it is that Friends do not fidget and fret
and fritter their lives away, like the " World's
people," as they call outsiders. English statis
tics show that their average age is some fif
teen years more than that of others. The
great eecret then, of a iong and successful life
is to "Do justly."— Halt's Journal of Health.
B©* A man down East has invented a ma
chine to renovate old batchelors ; lie can make
quite a decent young man, and have enough
left for two small puppies, a pair of leather
breeches, and a kettle of soft soup.
4©* An Irishman being asked, on a late
trial, for a certificate of his marriage, took
his hat off, and exhibited a huge scar, which
looked as thongb it had beeu made with afire
6hovel. The evidence was satisfactory.
tfimcatiomil department
What the Teacher can Do.
A few years since, the trustees of a school
! district iu central New York, applied to the
principal of a neighboring acadamy, for a
teacher. On enquiry,the principal learned that
they had recently built a uew house, and were
strougly desirous of improving their school ;
and as a means of doing so, had determined
to secure the services of a competent teacher:
! and os they (lid not expect to do so at their
i previous wages of ten and twelve dollars per
. month, they had resolved to pay fourteen or
] even sixteen dollars. The principal assured
' them that no such wages would secure the
j services of the best and most experienced
I teachers, but said that if they would say eigh
teen dollars per month, he would furnish them
with a teacher, whose success he would war
rant. This was finally agreed to, nnd a young
man of bat one winter's experience in teaching
but whose success at that time, together with
his known character, ability, and earnest do
! votion to whatever he engaged in,was sufficient
j to justify the strongest expectations of his fu-
I tare success, was sent to fulfill the engage
| mcnt.
Knowing that his friend and teacher had
I fully endorsed his success, lie entered upon his
j labors with the determination that the confi
: denco thus reposed in him should not be be
trayed. He accordingly threw himself, as it
were, into his work. He gave himself upwhol
i !v and unreservedly to his duties. He neither
! knew nor recognized any higher duties than
i t'.iore which has vocation involved. liis ear
; nestness and enthusiasm soon communicated it
: self to his punils ; they seemed imbued with a
new life ; they labored iu conjunction with
him ; they took home their books at night ;
they talked of their teacher ; they repeated his
sayings, so different from the teachings to
which they listened before ; their zeal,earnest
ness, and enthusiasm in their studies, know no
bounds ; the parents caught the infection, and
: wondered at the change ; they enquired of
! him in his visitations, while bearding round,
! how lie acquired such an influence : he
answered—and at the same time took oppor
, tuuity to suggest new thoughts and ideas upon
the subject of education ; the interest deiipeneu;
| the parents must sec how these matters were
i conducted,to produce results so unusual ; they
visited the school ; found order .and system to
' prevail, and labor to be the eve idea of teacher
; and pupil ; they saw that the great effort of
; tho teacher was not to get his pupils through
j books, but to imbue the minds of his pnpi's
! wi'h the principles they contained; that he
' sought not so much to impart know/edge, as
to develop rand ; that ho deemed one principle,
thoroughly understood, better than twenty
fails poorly appreciated in their bee rings and
applications. These were new thoughts to the
pie, and presented in any other form than
with the practical demonstration of their utility
and truthfulness before them, would doubtless
have been strongly discredited. But with this
conviction fully impressed, they were desirous
of becoming better informed upon the princi
! pies of education, which service the teacher
J cheerfully performed in his visitation and in-
J tcrcourse among them. The result was, that
* at the close of his school, he was solicited to
engage it for the ensuing winter, at thirty dol
lars per month, aud board at one place. ' lie
accepted the offer, and taught the school with
increased rather than diminished success.
TiiF is a siinplcjiilustrution of what a teacher
may accomplish. Here was a double duly per
formed. Tit? teacher taught the schorl, and at
the same time taught the people, too ; and this
is the teacher's true mission —lie must not be
content with exercising an influence simply in
till school reran ; —he must be the exponent of
the great principles of education,and enlighten
the public mind with regard to them. We
thus see, also, that a3 soon as the public are
properly inform'., there is no lack of liberali
ty on their part. Universally, the public are
found liberally supporting those measures which
then deen important. The difficulty lies in get
ting them properly informed upon the subject ;
and the reason why they are not properly in
formed, is because teachers shirk from respon
sibility and labor in this matter ; content to
earn only the scanty piltano 'they receive.
Had the district above cited, been at the
first called upon to pay thirty or even twenty
five dollars per month, they would have scout
ed the idea, —because they could not then esti
mate the value of education by any such
standard ; —but when they are made to see its
value, and the difference between that which
is specious and that which genuine,they readily
offer to the exttnt of their means.
Will not teachers impress themselves with
this idea, aud act accordingly ?
Hudson. E. W. K.
CORRECT SHAKING.— We advise all young
people to acquire in early life the habit of
using good language, both in speaking and
writing, and to abandon as early as possible
any use of slang words and phrases. The
longer they live the more difficult the acquisi
tion of good language will be ; and if the gold
en age of vonth, the proper season for the ac
quisition of language, be passed in its abuse,
the unfortunate victim of neglected education
is, verv properly, doomed to talk slang for
life. Money is not necessary to procure this
education, every man has it in his power. He
has merely to use the language which he reads
insteads of the slang which he hears ; to form
his taste from the best speakers and poets of
the country ; to treasure up choice phrases in
his memory, nnd habituate himself to their
use—avoiding, at the same time, that pedantic
precision and bombast which show rather the
weakness of a vain ambition than the polish
of an educated mind.
GREAT MEM stand like solitary towers in the
city of God ; and secret passages running deep
beneath external nature, give their thoughts
intercourse with higher intelligence, which
strengthens and consoles them, and of which
the laborers on the surface do not drearr.—
VOL. XXI. NO. 23
NEW IN CHINA. —The following is an
account of New Year's ilay in China : " The
first of the Chinese year falls in the middle of
the month of February, and is called at Yat-
Youil. For some days proceeding,all business
is suspended, and the people of all classes fre
quent the theaters, and indulge in good cheer.
The authority of the mandarins is suspended
\ during those days, which sometimes occasions
I disturbances. All disputes between parties,
| especially between creditors and debtors, ere
j endeavored to be arranged amicably on the
eve of the new year The solemnities observ
ed on the day itself are called Soon-Nin, and
are the following : In the vicinity of each
temple a large theater in bamboo is construct
ed for the performance of pieces in honor of
local divinity ; every house is decked out with
new lanterns ; the furniture of the house is, in
part, renewed ; red paper is stuck up at the
door, aud the inhabitants put on their best
clothes. The popular belief is that a man
would be poor all tin? rear if he were not well
dressed on New Year's day ; and the poor,
whose garments are shabby, do not hesitato
| even to pilfer in order to obtain something
i new. At midnight, loud dutonutioos are heard
everywhere, being caused lit fire-works, which
everybody lights up. In front of the houses
of the mandarins, the fire-wOrks are attached
| to long poles, and burn about ten minutes,
I causing successive detonations. The Chinese
suppose that the use of fire works renders tho
divinities propitious, and they employ them ou
many solemn occasions. The Chinese pay each
! other visits of ceremony on the first of the
year. A rich man to receive his friends places
! himself on a sofa in a large room newly de
! corated, and his servants, all wearing new
> clothes, are stationed round the room. The
furniture, freshly polished, is covered with red
j colored stuffs. When the visitor arrives, the
door is (lur.g wide open, and the master of the
house advances amidst beating of tomtoms to
welcome him. The two acquaintances bow re
peated y to each other, and exchange cotnpli
; meats ; when one them is of high rank, tho
i compliments occupy sometimes ten minutes j
afterwards tables are placed before each of
them, aud they drink one another's health in
tea. Then they part, crying in a loud voice
extravagant compliment*. Festivities are
kept op for ten days after the new year. The
fir>t. is ealiek Kay Yat, ' the day of the birds,'
and is destined to remind the people that birds
firm part of the food of man. The nse of
meat is rigorously abstained from, and the sin
gular custom of removing bells and secreting
j brooms is observed, from the belief that those
articles can occasion misfortunes. The second
day is called Kov-Ynt, the day of dogs—an
1 animal which the Chinese reverence, though
they eat its flesh. The third is Cben-Yut,
!'the day of swine;' the fourth, Yaong-Yat,
' the day of lambs the fifth of cows, and the
j sixth of horses. The four other days are ded
icated to Pont 80, a divinity, who is supposed
j to have taught the Chinese the use of wheat,
rice, and meat, the cultivation of peas and
beans, and other useful arts. Offerings are
made to this god, bat they can only consist of
wine, water, and vegetables."
THE FIRST STEIX —Ttie first step towards the
abyss of infidelity is a doubting or skeptical
state of mind in regard to some parts, or tho
whole of the Script life*: the next is either in
to the wilderness of universal doubt, or into
the abyss itself. Skepticism is a most danger
ous state of the mind. Like moderate drink
ing, it leads on its unhappy victim from bad to
worse, til! Loth mind and heart are rained and
damned forever. It. is the moral inebriation
of the man in its incipient stages. Beware of
it, ye young men, as ye would the contagion
of death. Its administrations to the soul aru
those of sorrow. Break away from the
symptoms of its deadly approach. Let not a
a corrupt and unbelieving heart beguile thesu
vritli the promises ot a proud and vaiu philoso
phy. There is no safety in a cultivated intel*
I; ot, nor in ail the resources of a Christaiu ed
uction, and the watchfulness, and teaching
of friends; no,not even under "the droppings''
of the sanctuary. In the faith of Jesus only
there is safety. Believe in him to the suiva
tiou of the soul, then will you " know tba
truth, and the truth shall make you free."
Foixv OF PRIDE. —Take some quiet, sober
moment of life, add together the two ideas of
pride and man. Behold him, creature of a
span, stalking through infinite space in all tho
grandeur of littleness. Perched on a speck
of the universe, every wind of heaven strikes
into his blood the coldness of death ; his soul
floats from his body like melody from tho
string 5 day and night, like dust on the wheel,
he is rolled §long the heavens, through a lab
yrinth of worlds and all the creations of God
are flaming above and beneath. It this a
creature to make for himself a crown of glory,
to deny his own flesh, to mock his fellow,
sprung from the dust to which both will re
turn ? Does the proud man not err? Does
he not suffer ? Does he not die ? When ho
reasons, has he not been stopped by difficul
ties'? When he acts, is he never tempted by
pleasure ? When he lives, is he free from
pain ? When he dies, can he escape ilie com
mon grave ? Pride is not the heritage of
man ; humility should dwell with frailty, and
atone for ignorance, error, and imperfection.—
A MOTHER'S ISFCKSCK.—How touching the
tribute of the Hon. T. H. Benton to his moth
er's influence : " My mother asked me never
to nse tobacco. I have never touched it from
that time to this, and I have never gambled,
and I cannot tell who is winning and who is
losing in games that can bo played. She ad
monished me, too, against hard drinking ; and
whatever capacity for endurance I have at
present, and whatever usefulness I may attain
in life, I have attributed to having complied
with her pious and correct wishes. When I
was seven years of age, she asked me not to
drink, and then I mado a resolution of total
abstinence, at a time when I was sole
constituent member of niy own body, and that
I have adhered to it through ail time, I owe
it to my mother "