Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, December 18, 1862, Image 1

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    OIE D3LI.AR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA :
Tbursday Morning, December 18,1862.
Stledti
(From the Hartford Conrant.)
"FAITH AND ITS EFFECTS."
it twilight by my open window sitting,
Watching with curious eyes the passing crowd,
Meting to one-a bridal, gay and fitting ;
To one— disaster, and to one—a shroud ;
j feU t o musing on Life's strange reverses,
Its daily mystery of joy and woe ;
Its cherished hopes, which breath of GOD disperses ;
Its pride and power by sudden stroke brought low ;
I thought upon its hard-won, quick-lost treasures ;
Upon itshorrore-fleetingasa breath ;
Upon its meagre, evanescent pleasures ;
Upon the end of all—unwelcome Death ;
And then I thought upon my own life's sorrow,
Its hopeless present and its troubled past ;
pondered with dread upon the coming morrow,
And questioned— Would life brighten toward the last 1
I asked the future—had it joy or anguish
For my poor, weary, overburdened heart ;
Should I have rest ? Or should I always languish
On couch of pain, and so " act well my part.
No answer had I from the dread uncertain,
* Joy, grief and pain alike were unrevealed ;
No hand of mine might lift the misty curtain ;
Eye could not pierce to that which it concealed.
Weary and weak, I bowed in supplication
Th.it Heaven's own strength be perfected in me ;
So should 1 bear with cheerful resignation
GOD'S holy will, whatever that should be.
I prayed for grace to do the present duty,
Taking, for diys to come, no anxious thought ;
Asked to be led in paths whose wlioly beauty ,
All men behold, but few have ever sought.
And soft and silent as the dew, descended
Upon my waiting heart, the gift divine.
Doubting and fear were for the moment ended,
And peaceful trtis* and fullest joy were mine.
Then came a voice—" Discard the o d wives fable
Of " Special Providence and Heavenly aid !
Trust to yourself; and of yourself be able
"Gainst sin and want to wage a bold crusade.
- God loves his children with no partial favor ;
For you and me He lakes no thought and care ;
From laws established he will never waver-
By Nature's changeless laws we governed are.
And Nature's law is that of compensation,
Who sows shall reap ; he shall obtiin who strives ;
Victory is sine to strength in man or nation ;
And whatsoe'er we make them are our lives."'
Bund truth with rankest error subtly blended !
What wonder if exulting Faith died quickly out ?
What w..nder if Despair with Hope contendedl ?
What wonder it to Trust succeeded Doubt ?"
Despondent, fearful, once again I drilted
On-unbelief s wild sea—until, above
The tumult of its surging waves, was lifted
.Messiah ® voice. I heard his words of love .
" Peace doubting soul! Thy father's care cxtendeth
O'er all the works ol his creative skill.
His love surrounds ; His potent arm delcndeth ;
As in the past, so will he keep thee still.
" His watchful eye beholds with love paternal
Each falling sparrow—these are bought and sold,
Five for two farthings ! Are thy hopes supwrnal
Less worth his care ? O doubting heart be bold !"
Bold am I now. Earth has no wort of sorrow
Which, with this trust, I cannot do and bear,
The present ill suffices—l refrain to borrow
Care from the future. Get thee gone. Despair !
Uliste llaiuons.
habbi :r,_a.sc:h:i.
Rabbi Jarcbi, commonly called Rabbi Ras
chi, lived in the 11th and 12ih centuries, —
(1040—1105 A. .), and was boru at Troyes,
in France. His name is still mentioned with
fevereuce next to that of Maiinonides. lie
wrote a commentary on some of the prophets,
and likewise au explanation of the lalraud,
a gigantic work, without which that obscure
book would be almost unintelligible. He
WHS, besides, a great mathematician, and a
very religious mail.
It is said of Rabbi Raschi, that on reach
ing his sixtieth year, and feeling himself ap
proach the pale of life, he was desirous of
knowing who was to be his companion in
Paradise. He, of cturse did not entertain
the least doubt that such a pious and learned
man as he, who had never transgressed any
ceremonial law, would be ushered iuto the
Garden of Eden, and be seated on a golden
chair at a golden table, with a wreath of
pearls round his head, and wouid be allowed
to feast eteruully on ihe glory of God. But
he wished to know who the pious men was
that should be placed opposite to bim at the
samo table, for the righteous sit two and two
iu Paradise. Wheu he bad fasted aod pray
ed a long time, God deigned to reveal him
a.-lf in a dream,and to tell bim that bis future
conipauion wtg Abruhuin-beu Gersoo, called
Zid.k, at Barcelona.
Having learned thus much, Rabbi Raschi
became anxious to make acquaintance on earth
with his tuture companion, and to this end
undertook a journey to Bareeloua. To his
imagination, the form of his Paradise frienu
presented itself with ft thiu pale lace, sunken
eyes, loug beard, a bent figure, a man who
bad studied the law night aud day, had lasted
aud prayed ; for such u raau only deserved
the soruuuie of Zadik, the Righteous.
Great was therefore ttie surprise of Rabbi
Raschi when, ou arriving ut Barcelona, he
could find no Abraham Zadik. Several per
sous, certainly, had oeeu honored with this
surname, but among them was no Abraham
ben Gersou. At length, ou asking it there
were not in the town a man called Abraham
Gersou, he was auswered : " What! do you
mean Don Abraham the Wealthy ? How
can a uiuu like you condesceud even to ask
for such a heathen, who is never seen at syu
agogue the whole year round—oav, who eats
meat prepared by Christians ? We all wou
der why he does not at once become baptiz-
THE BRADFORD REPORTER.
Ed, and his name would thus be stricken from
the book of life ! Surely, Rabbi Raschi, you
can have no business with hiin.
" A fine fellow is my companion," thought
Rabbi Raschi, and be threw back a rapid
glance on his own life, in order to discover
any sin of omission or commission by which
he might have incurred such a disgrace.
" Surely, you will not visit that man ?" re
peated the learned Rabbi, to whom Rabbi
Raschi had addressed his question.
" Why ?—1 may, perhaps, bring him back
to the right path."
" Do not flatter yourself with that—on him
all endeavors are lost. But do as you like."
When standing before the residence of Don
Abraham, Rabbi Raschi was highly astonish
ed, for it was a real palace, splendid, replete
with beauty and taste, so thut it even moved
the heart of the old rabbi, who could only fiud
this fault with it—that it did not behoove a
sou of Israel to live in such splendor, whilst
so many of his brethren were doomed to be in
poverty aud fi th. On entering the gate, he
found himself in an open court, where servants
in gilt livery were seen moving to and fro, re
ceiving visitors, who had come in splendid
carriages. The rabbi wished to return, and
he only addressed a servant in 'be hope of
being dismissed, aod thus having an excurse
before God ; but the domestic received him
with the greatest respect, aud ushered him up
a broad marble staircase into a richly orna
mented aute-room, where he requested hiin to
wait a few moments. When lett alone, the
rabbi said to himself : " There must be some
mistake. This man is a bad Jew, a man of
no religiou at all he has obtained here on
eurtb bisgoldeu chair and golden table—his
Paradise ; how can any such blessing be in
store for him in the future ? He is too rich
to become converted into the right path of
resignation uud self denial. But I will do my
best ; I an, perhaps, the instrument ol God."
The door opened, and Don Abraham,a tall,
handsome man, of i bout thirty, made his up
pearauce. With a friendly greeting, he bade
the rabbi welcome, ami added : " Let me
hope that my humble roof tuny be honored
during a long period by the presence of such
un excellent, learned and pious guest."
" Pious I"' exclaimed Rabbi Raschi." "How
do you dare to say pious—to talk of piety —
you, a scoruer of the law ! I aunojnce to
you thut 1 have come iu the name of God our
Lord—"
" lam sure you have," interrupted Don
Abraham, smiling, " and therefore I repeat
that you are most welcome : but us lor your
reproaches, you may as well reserve them, as
1 have once lor all chosen my manner of life.
Come, be friendly ; let us become better ac
quainted ; aud, first, of all, uo favor me with
your company to morrow at the celebration ol
my nuptials—"
" All, you are going to be married ! and,
perhaps, to a heathen girl ?"
" No, to a duughti r of Iruel, a lovelv, am
iable, kind hearted girl. Come to-morrow aod
see her."
"Is she rich ?"
" No !"
" Well ; if only she were Ic 1 into ft good
Jewish house, it would be an agreeable sight
in the eyes of God. Meanwhile it may be a
mitzwa* I will come."
The conversation was interrupted by a ser
vant announcing a poor woman.
" Let rer wait a momeut," said Don Abra
bam.
" A poor woman !" exclaimed the rabbi.—
" Your mariiage is to take place to morrow,
and you have not yet thought of the poor ;
but you allowed them to come to you to re
mind you of your duty ? For shame !"
" My dear Rabbi Raschi," said Don Abra
ham, " you are too severe. That you may
judge for yourself, I beg you will accompany
me to the woman, aud ask her any questions
you please."
They went into the room where she was
waiting, and, on being questioned by the rab
hi, she answered : " Alms have been given,
as far as I know, to all the poor ; but Ido
not come for alms."
Rabbi Raschi was pleased to hear that his
future companion was, at least charitable ;
he was therefore silent, while Don Abraham
asked the woman : " What is it you want ?
What can I do for you ?"
" I want your advice," said the woman.
" Fpeak, aud be sure you shall have friend
ly nivice."
The woman said : "lam a poor widow,
with four children, three of whom are quite
young. My eldest son, a youth of eighteen,
worked for us, by his homst i idnstry, has
made a comfortable though modest home ;
but now he is ill, dangerously ill."
" Thet> my good woman, you must have a
physician. I will send you my own doctor."
" No, Don Abraham, a physician is of no
avail ; my sou is ill through love, disapjioiiit
ed love. There is a young girl, poor and
honest, like myself, whom he had hoped to
marry ; but now the poor girl is forced by
her parents to marry another, a rich man "
" Wo nan, why do you tell this to me ?"
said Dou Abraham. •
" Because you are the maD, Don Abraham;
and now, having spoken, 1 leave you to God
and vnur conscience." .
" What is your sou's name ?" asked Don
Abraham, faintly.
" Abraham ben M :nuel "
When they were le't alone, Rabbi Raschi
seeing Dou Abraham deadly pale, with large
drops of sweat on his l>row, said consolingly :
" Af'er all it is nothing. I have never, in
my life, heard of a man dying for love.
" liave you not ?" said Don Abraham.
" No, indeed not. You may be quite sure
that young fellow is not going to die. Young
folks sometimes make a great noise about
their love. After some time, he will fiud an
other woman quite as handsome."
" There is no other beneath the sun I"
Don Abraham exclaimed, passionately :
" there is but one sun in the heavens. Take
it away, and all is dark—the air is chilly, tkj
•A goo 4 action.
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
meadow has no verdure, the garden no flow
er ! Take it away, and you take life away I
Life without love is uotbiug 1 Oh, the wom
an was right 1"
" Well, well, Don Abraham, I only wished
to comfort you. It is a bounded duty of a
guest to share the grief of his host. It may
be disgreeable, nay, painfuly to her lover ;
but I bouestly think and say there is no dan
ger of death. Such sorrows may be over
came ; but of course, something must be done
for the family, something of cousequeuce,
even."
" You are right, Rabbi Raschi ; I hope I
shall have something arranged by to morrow.
Do not forget to come to viincha." f
Next day the rabbi was punctual at the
palace of Don Abraham, round which an im
mense crowd had gathered,*bi Ist through the
gates flowed a magnificent stream of guests,
who eagerly brought their congratulations to
the rich owner of the palace.
The hruppa, or baldachin, under which the
wedding ceremony was to be performed, was
erected in the court, the marble pavement of
which was strewn with flowers. The prayer
having been said, the bride, preceeded by a
band of music and by torches, was led iuto
the court, when the notary read the marriage
contract, upon which Don Abraham said :
" There is but one little thing to be correct
ed ; the name of the bridegroom is not Ahra
ham-ben-Gerson, but Abraham ben-Manuel :
I have only been the schatchan* In all oth
er respects, the stipulations are unaltered, and
I leave Abraham Ben-Manuel to conduct my
business, whilst I favel abroad. Hallo ! let
musicians and the torch-bearers accompany
Abraham ben Mauuel aud his relatives iuto
the court."
" Oh!" cried Rabbi Raschi, " thou art wor
thy, indeed, to be my companion in Para
dise 1"
At first, the Rabbi's exclamation was un
heeded ; but be afterwards related bis dream
ti Don Abraham, who replied good liumored
ly: "I am glad to hear it ; it is so pleasant
to have a good neighbor ; and besides,' he
added, with quivering lips, " I shall come sin
gle "
Since then, eight hundred years have elaps
ed. We may all see, iu a short time, if they
are seated together.
fThe afternoon prayer with which the marriage ecremo
ny commences.
♦lie who demands the briile from her parents for another
PEDDLER VERSUS QUAKSR —A Yankee ped
dler, traveling in Pennsylvania, met a Quaker
going to mill with a bag of corn.
" I snv mister, what do you ask for your
corn ?" inquired the \ankoe.
"It isn't for sale, friend," replied Broad
brim.
" But I'm greatly in need of corn just now,
as my mare is nearly starved, and nobody
round here 'pears willing to trade. I thought
you Quaker fellers iva-* chock full of the m.lk
of human kindness. Now, as Ive been tob
bed back here a piece of all my cash, I don't
know what on airth I'm goiu' to du wheu the
mare's gin out."
" Well, friend," said the shrewd Quaker,
" if thee has anything that 1 can turn to the
same account as my corn, 1 will trade with
thee, at dollar a bushel, but uot otherwise.
" And pray, whut are jon going to do with
it."
" Grind it, to be sure !" said Broadbrim,
chuckling ut the thought that that was u po
ser for the peddler.
•' Wall, I'll dew it on them terms, and yon
mnv empty your com iuto my feed box at
onct," said the Yankee.
" And prav, friend, what am I to have in
exchange for the two bushels of corn that I
can turn to the same account ?"
'* Oh, you can take your choice ; I've got
jack-knives at twenty-five cents a piece, razors
at the same price, axes at a dollar, and va
rious other notions. Aon'll find 'hat they can
all be ground to great advantage. In short,
you can grind 'em us often as you please, aud
it won't hurt 'em 1"
The Quaker was so tickled at the Yankee's
wit that he let liira have the corn without
further parley, and took bis pay iu trade.
" llow do you do, Mrs. Towe ? Have
you heard that stoi v about Mrs Ludy ?"
" Why, uo, really Mrs. Gad ? What is it?
Do tell."
" Oh, I promised not to tell for all the world
—no I must never tell on't; I'm afraid it will
get out."
" Why, I'll never tell on't as long as I live,
just as true as the world. W hat is it ? Cotue
tell." , .
" Now, you won't say anything about it,will
you ?"
" No, I'll never open my month about it—
never. ' Hope to die this miunte."
" Well, if you'll believe it, Mrs. Fundy told
me last night, that Mrs. Trot told her that
her sister's husband was told by a person that
dreamed it, that Mrs. Trouble's oldest daugh
ter told Mrs. Nichens that ber grandmother
beard by a letter she got from her sister's sec
oud husband's oldest brother's step daughter,
that it was reported by the captain of a clam
boat just arrived from the Feejee Islands, that
the mermaids about that section wear crino
lines made out of shark skins "
FRUIT AS MEDICINE —Ripe fruit is the medi
cine ol uatnre ; noihiug can be more whole
some for man or child, though green fruit is,
of course, rank poi-on. Strawberries are fa
vorites with all cla-ses and constitute a popu
lar luxury. Who can tell the number of dis
ordered livers aud digestive apparatuses gen
erally restored by that fruit ? Alter them,
we do homage especially to peaches, and ap
ples, aud grapes. We once knew a person
who, believing himself in a decline, determined
to eat from four to six ripe apples a day, and
note the result ; in three months he was well
We know of another who was in general ill
health that commenced the habit of orinkiog
a glass of plain cider every morning, and
I never had a uay's illness in twenty five years
thereafter. Such remedies are simple eDongb.
" RESARDLESS OF DENUMCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
Letter from Suffolk, Va.
SUFFOLK, Va., Nov. 29,1562.
DEAR SIR :—Your letter was very gladly
received, and to show ray gratitude, I will an
swer immediately. The REPORTER containing
the Muster Rolls of the 141 st Regiment, P.
V., also arrived, and it was with great inter
est that 1 looked over the names. Many of
them are persons of my acquaintance, and
several were pupils of mine at my school in
West Fraukliu years ago. Years ago 1 How
strunge to cast a glance at the quiet past aud
compare the years gone by with the exciting
preseut.
Boys of a little while ago—qniet, inoffen
sive boys—insignificant as they thought them
selves, are uow eurolled with the uatiou's
hosts, writing their part on the great exclam
atory page of American History.
What a volume is being written ! And
who will arise with so wonderful powers as to
be abie to paint the untold agony of the mil
lions bereaved ?
No ! Let it not be written ; let History
record deeds of valor, causes lost or yon, the
numbers of killed, wounded and missing, and
let some dashing novelist or writer of romance
with imagination vivid as the lightning, re
gale his readers with stories of lost loves and
broken hearts, but let no man dare—even if
it were possible—to enter the sacred portals
of the broken household, with a view to pub
lish abroad the keen aud poignant grief of
those whose best loved have been sacrificed to
the Moloch of Slavery.
Truly, we have fallen upon troublous times,
but we have nothing to complain of, for when
we remember our National follies and pnju
dices and sins which we have not only tolera
ted, bat winked at, even if we come uot out
till the " uttermost larthing " is paid, we are
constraiued to say— it is a just sentence.
In Jeremiah there is a complete description
of the slaveholder. I will make a short quo
tation from the stb chapter, commencing at
verse 25, adding a word or two as I go on, to
make the application clear ;
" Your iniquities have torned away these
things, and your sins have witholden good
things from you.
" For among my people are found wicked
men ; (slaveholders, kidnappers, etc.) —they
lay wait, as he that setteth snares ; they set
a trap, they eaich men. (Slaves, ruuaways,
contrabands, free black men, and some not so
black, are caught in these snares.)
" As a cage is full of birds, so are their
houses full of deceit ; (deceit that covers the
worst system of coucubfuage iu the world,
where a man makes merehaudi.se of his own
children) —therefore they are become great
and waxen rich.
"They are waxen fat, they shine; —(in
silks and satins purchased with the price of
blood)—yea, tliey overpass the deeds of the
wicked : they judge not the cause, the cause
ol the faiberless,— (but sell children from their
mothers, wives from their husbands, and pa
rents from their children) —yet they prosper,
and the right of the needy do they not judge.
" Shall I not visit for these things ? saith
the Lord ; shall not my soul be aveuged on
such a nation as this ?
" A wonderful and horrible thing is com
mitted in the land :
(" American Slavery, the vilest that ever
saw the sun.' Wesley.
" The prophets prophesy falsely, and the
priests bear rule by their means ; (yes, min
isters (!) declare that Slavery is a divine in
stitution, and on the strength of this false
prophecy, Southern aristocrats boldly asseit
their rigfit to rule) —and my people love to
have it so ; (mark that, every Northern dough
face, every Southern sympathizer, every ex
cuser for Slavery, every compromise man in
all the world who is nominally a Christian,
aud therefore my people is among those who
love to have it so, aud the terrible, the awful,
and as yet uuauswercd question follows) —
and what will ye do in the end thereof ?"
Without contending that Secretary Seward
is without his weaknesses, which is too much
to say of any great man. I canoot agree that
onr disasters are attributable to /uVfollies, for
the cousequences following men's weaknesses,
depend altogether upou the re?ponsibilities of
their position.
A private in the ranks of an army may be
a fool, and no one the worse for it, for, iu the
language of a certain defunct Captain, " A
private is supposed to know nothing but or
ders but au officer is at least supposed to
kuow how to command, and a sioglc mistake
ou his part might work disaster to many.
So, as effect follows cause, and as the effect
is in proportion to the cause, I can fix upon
uo one as directly responsible for our disas
ters aud snailface movements as the President
himself. Still I wculd support the President.
Beeause he has made a great mistake,' we
should uot desert bim ; for that would make
a bad matter worse.
President Lincoln is undoubtedly a great
man, but has betrayed one great weakness ;
uud that very weakness is esteemed by many
to be his great virtue.
That weakness is his wonderful conserva
tism. This grand idea led him to select from
all parties to fill places in his cabinet. In
stead of having a preference for the Republi
can party which elected him, he very kindly
appoints men of known hostility, from the
Breckinridge and Douglas ranks, to fill res
ponsible positions and act as bis political ad
visers, under the mistaken notion that this
course would uuite the country. Is it to be
wondered at, then, that with snch a mixed
cabinet, he puts generals iuto the field of the
same calibre ?
The President's policy seemed to be to please
everybody.
His advisers undoubtedly disagreed, and so
to satifv all, he will be very conservative, ap
point a few good aud loyal men, a few abont
half and half, and some who "(idn't know
what the war was about. 11
The men most earnest in the struggle, were
checked, lest the rebellion should be crushed
too soon, aod the favor of some of the half
and half men lost. When the quarrel about
General Fremont arose, the demands of the
party that placed bim in the Presidential
chair, were set aside to satisfy the opposition.
This course followed up, has divided the Re
publican Party. Thus the President's grand
struggle to uuite all parties and please every
body has failed, and be has pleased nobody
His conservative kindness led bim to keep
generals at the head of our armies whose mo
tive power was political jealousy, and whose
highest ambition seemed to be to defeat each
other.
We hope Bnrnside will succeed, bat if he
fails, let bim be removed before he causes as
much loss of life and trrasure as did McClel
lan. We are for the man that can and will
win.
And when the successful man is found, we
are for the policy that will let him go forward,
and the Cabinet that then begins to quarrel
about him, should be hung.
We believe in the Scriptural policy," What
soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy
might." Radical, isn't it ? but that is what
we want in these trying times.
We believe in Burnside, but are not so con
fident of his success as are some. He has too
many difficulties to encouuter.
The good time to move was wasted by his
predecessor, but an opportunity may offer to
strike a deadly blow, aod no doubt Bnrnside
is looking anxiously for just such an opportu
nity.
At this place nothiog of interest has trans
pired.
Toura truly,
S. PARKHURST,
Co. G, 39th Illinois.
WHY CHILDREN SHOULD NOT BB ABSENT
FROM SCHOOL —Some ooe has thus " summed
up" the unfavorable results of unnecessary
absence :
1. If a boy learns to feel that he may leave
his duties as a scholar for trivial causes ; for
causes equally trivial he will forsake his busi
ness when a man.
2. The time of the teacher and the whole
school is wasted, while this absence is beiug
recorded.
3. The teacher's time is wasted, in reading
and racording the delinquent's excuse, when
he returns to the school.
4. He interrupts the exercise of the teach
er, or some other part of the school, in finding
the places at which his various lessons com
mence.
5 He has lost the lesson recited yesterday,
and does not understand the portion of to-day's
which depends upon that of yesterday ; and
such dependence usually exists.
G. The teacher's time and patience are tax
ed iu repeating to him the instructions of yes
terday ; which, however, for waut of study,
he does not clearly appreciate.
7. The rest of the class are deprived of the
instructiou of their teacher, while he is teach
ing the delinquent.
8 The progress of the rest of the clas3 is
checked, and their ambitiou curbed in waiting
for the tardy delinquent.
9. The pride of tee class is wounded, and
their interests in their studies abated, by the
conduct of the absentee.
10. The reputations of both teacher and
scholar suffer, upon days of public examina
tion, by failures, which are chargeable to the
absence, and not to the instruction.
11. The means generously provided for the
education of the delinquent are wrongly wast
ed.
12. lie sets pernicious example for the rest
of the school, and usually does some actual
mischief while absent.
llow HE GOT HIS WIFE. —John W
was, or is a genius. He made quite a pile in
the Mexican war, and invested it in a canal
boat running on the Ohio Caual. John was a
bachelor, but in course of time was smitten by
the little god. An old farmer, who lived in
the " heal" path, near Masillion, had two ro
sy cheeked daughters, but all attempts to gain
an introduction by their admirers, were foiled
by the old man. But John was not discour
aged. A large chunk of beef brought off the
mastiff, and John proceeded to deliberately ap
propriate the various articles hanging on the
clothes' line. Cheraizettes and stockings,
breeches, skirts, and things, were crowded in
inglorious confusion into the capacious bag
carried by Jonri on this occasion. They were
brought aboard the boat and placed in the
" bow cabin," to pave the way for an introduc
tion on the return trip.
A week after the boat passed the farm
house on its way north, and John jarupea
ashore, and went to the house. He represent
ed that or.e of his drivers had stolen the cloth
ing, and that he had discharged him, and de
sired to restore the articles. The young la
dies were delighted, as the sack contained all
their " Sunday fixings." The old man said :
" I always thought that all the boatmen
would steal ; and I am delighted to fiud one
honest one. Yon most call again captain."
The captain did call again, and soon after
married the " yoangest.''
On the wedding night, he toid bit wife the
ruse he had used to gain an introduction, and
the old man gave orders that no more clothing
should be left " out o' night."
♦
WHISKY AND NEWSPAPERS. —A glass of whis
ky is manufactured from perhaps a dozen
grains of corn, the value of which is too small
to be estimated. A pint of this mixture sells
for one shilling, and if of a good brand, is con
sidered well worth the money. It is drank in
a minute or two—it fires the brain, sharpens
the appetite, deranges and weakens the physi
cal system. On the same sideboard npon
which tbi3 pernicious beverage is served lies a
newspaper. It is covered with half a million
of types —it brings intelligence from the four
quarters of the globe. The newspaper costs
less than the glass of grog—the juice of a few
grains of corn ; bat it is no less strange than
true that there is a large portion of the com
munity who think cora juice cheap and the
newspaper dear.
t®- What is the most woudarfuf of acro
batic feats ? For a man to revoke in bis mind.
VOX,. XXIII. —NO. 29.
A Ghost Story.
At a town in the west of England twenty
four persons were accustomed to assemble once
a week, to drink, smoke tobacco and talk poli
tics. As at the academy of Rubens, at Ant
werp, each member bad his peculiar chair, and
the president's was more elevated than the
rest. As one of the members had been in a
dying state for some time, his chair, whilst he
was absent, remained vacant.
When the club met on the nsual night, in
quiries were naturally made after their asso
ciate. As he lived in the aujoining house, a
particular friend went to inquire after bim,
and returned with the melancholy intelligence
that he could not survive the night. This
threw a gloom on the company, and all efforts
to turn the conversation from the sad subject
before them were ineffectual. About raid
night the door opened, and the form, in white,
of the dying or the dead man, walked into tho
room and took bis seat in his accustomed chair.
There he remained in silence, and in silence
was he gazed at. The apparition continued a
sufficient time in the chair to assure all who
were present of the reality of the vision. At
length he arose and stalked towards the door,
which he opened as if living ; went out aud
shut the door after him. After a pause, soma
one, at last, had the resolution to say, "If
only one of us had seeo this, he would not have
been believed ; but it is impossible so many
of us can have been deceived." The company,
by degrees, recovered their speech, and tho
whole conversation, as may be imagined, waa
npon the dreadfnl object which had engaged
their attention. They broke op and went
home. In the morning inqairy was made af
ter their sick friend. It was answered by an
account of his death, which happened nearly
about the time of his appearance in the club
room. There could be little doubt before ;
but now nothing could be more certain thau
the reality of the apparition which had been
simultaneously seen by so many persons. It.
is unnecessary to say that such a story spread
over the country, and found credit even from
infidels; for, in this case, all reasoning bo
came superfluous, when opposed to a plain
fact, attested by three-and-twenty witnesses.
To assert the doctrine of the fixed, laws of na
ture was ridiculoas, when there were so many
people of credit to prove that they might bo
unfixed. Years rolled OD, and the story was
almost forgotten.
One of the club was an apothecary. In
the course of his practice he was called to an
old woman whose business it was to attend to
sick persons. She told him that she could
leave the world with a quiet conscience, but
for one thing which lay upon her mind. "Do
you not remember Mr. •, whose ghost has
been so much talked of ? I was his nurse.—
On the night of his death I left his room for
something I wanted. lam sure I had not
been absent long ; but at my return I found
the bed without my patient! He was delirious,
and I feared bad throwu himself out of the
wiudow. I was so frightened that I had no
power to stir ; but, after some time, to my
great astonishment, he entered the room, shiv
ering, and his teeth chattering, laid himself
down on the bed and died ! Considering my
negligence as tbe cause of his death, I kept
this a secret, for fear of what might be done
to me. Though I could have contradicted ail
the story of the ghost, I dared not do it. I
knew, by what hud happened, that it was he
himself who had been iu the club room (per
haps recollecting it was the night of the meet
ing ;) but I hope God aud the poor gentle
man's friends will forgive me, and I shall dio
contented."
They have some bravo orator 3 out
West. This fact there is no disputing, if wo
admit that they are correctly reported, as the
following specimen ot lofty and burning elo
quence will testify : " Americans I—This is a
great country —wide, vast, and in the South
west unlimited. Our public is yet destined
to reannex all South America ; to occupy the
Russian Possessions, and again to recover the
possession of those British Provinces which
the prowess of the Old Thirteen Colonies won
from the French on the plains of Abraham,
ail rightfully ours to re occupy. Ours is a
great and growing country. Faneuil Hall
was its cradle, but whar—whar will be found
timber enough for its coffin ? Scoop all the
water out of the Atlautic Ocean, and its bed
will not afford a grave sufficient for its corpse.
And yet America has scarcely grown out of
the gristle of boyhood. Europe—what is Eu
rope ? She is uowhere, nothing, not. a circum
stance, a cipher, an absolete idea. We have
faster steamboats, swifter locomotives, better
fire engines, louger rivers, broader lakes, high
er mountains, louder thunder, forkeder light
ning, prettier women, braver men, and more
money than England dare have 1"
19* Mrs. Partington says : "It is a con
federate shame for the Cabinet people at
Washington to allow our men of war ou the
Potomac to hug the Mary LaDd Shore so
much."
19* Adam was fond of bis joke, aud when
he saw his sons and daughters marry one an
other, he dryly remarked to Eve, that if there
had been no apple there would have been no
pairing.
19 The Providence Press says the propo
sition to amend the internal tax law so as to
include babies under the head of "manufac
tures" does not seem to meet with favor. The
proposer is a bachelor.
BQU A gentleman, in an inland town, ten
dered a dollar bill to pay a charge of sixty
cents, and was gravely offered forty squash
seeds to represent the balance due him.
j@- Folly bae often the same results as
wisdom ; but wisdom would not engage in hor
school-room so expensive an assistant as ca
lamity.