0 C. & H. If. FRA.ZIER, EDITORS. Scatter the Genes of the Beautiful. Scatter the genes of the beautillil I By the wayside let them fall. That the rose may spring by the cottage gate, And the vine on the garden wall; Cover the rough and the rude of earth . With a,vetbof leaves and Bowers, And suark.with the opening bud and cup The , march ofsununer hours. - - • Scatter the. germs of the beautiful In the holy shrine of Mite L e t the pure, and the far, and the gracefril there In their loveliest lustre come, Leave not a trace of deformity . In the temple of the !mart, But gash& shoot Its hearth the gems , •of Nature and of Art. Scatter the germi of the beautiful . In the temples of our God— The God who starred the uplifted sky, And flowered the tram led sod; ' , When Ile built stem* for himself,. And a home for his priestly rase, lie reared each arch in symmetry, And curved each line in grace: . Scatter the germs of the beautiful In the depths of the human soul; They shill bud and hicusom, and bear the fruit,. While the endless ages roll ; Plant with the_flowers of charity The p.ornds of the tomb, And the fair and the pure about thy path In Paradise shall bloom JOHN pRODIE'S WIPE. A STOGY OF TIES TWO "PANTOS." Dr syLvasts CORD, IL "Marry her if you will, sir; but the eon seque'nces be upon your owttllead. Mind that!" - And Silas Brodie, as he thus spoke, gazed sternly upon his son- lie.ivas very angry, and his lips were compressed until their ; hue was bloodless. " She must be my wife; father," Jobn Bro die returned, calmly and decidedly. 41.fust! Will you set at nought a father's authority ?" " You ,have no right to put the question in that Way," the young man said, reprovingly. You know very well that in all things jus4 I will still obey you. But not in this—not in this.. 1 cannot. I love Alice Darcy-4. have loved her a long time—and I- , cannot sacrifice my. whole of joy and peace for coin ing life to a false, pernicious idea of fashion or expediency." • Very well, sir;" cried the.old man,. with a waive'of the hand. "Go! I will. not re tract. MarrY with Isabel Ogden, and faun *fired thousand dollarsare yours.. Marry with this low girl. and—net one penny In. "My father—one hundred thousand del. Jars eannot_lmy your son l" And thuiproud ly speaking:John Brodie turned from, his parent's presence. Thera. ifyas a gleam of pride upon that filth tr.., gazeid='npon the erectbandsornc. form of his boy ; not it aided - 1 . ..L*1 v awa y, and. his foot: came down with a stamp, as :though be would crush forever the emotion he had for a moment experienced. - Sties Brodie had retired froin business, and W.as very wealthy. John was - his only child, and ha had long -held a .plan for a "brilliant alliance" for his heir. He bad even made arrangements with the parents. of Isa bel Ogden for a union Intween herself and Lis son, hence, when he found that John had .shaped his own course, and !resolved to marry a podr, unknown girl, his . rage was deep and bitter. He would riou-.think of it —he would have the low girl apprehended for robbing his son of his love—he would stop it in some war. But when, in - the end, fie found tha4 he-could not 'stop it, he r wokan oath that he would disinherit his child if be persisted in his rebellicius course. We have seen the result. In the home of an humble artisan, and en gaged in knitting, sat Alice Darcy. Her pure, handsome face was • lighted up by a happy smile, fur a little child—a child of her only brother—gamboled by her side. Alice had been spending the winter in the city with her brother, and had intended to-return in the spring to.her home in the country, where she had been living with' an uncle, her par ents being 'both dead. In a little while the child went away, and then Alice stopped knitting, and became Sad had thoughtful. "Eh? How now, Atlie , my darling'!" cried-a stalwart man, of some five-and-thirty years, whose garb bore upon it the dust and wear of toil. " Why so sad ?- Tell me." "Sit down, Tom, and I Will tell you." So the brother sat down, and took both his r sister's hands in his own. There was an honest, loving look upon his' face ath gave Alice confidenCe at once; "Now what is it ?" • I'll tell you, Tom,—l must not—" Not what ?" , Oh, fudge ! Don't tremble so, and tell what you walk to say. You meats to say ye mustn't marry with John Brodie. - "Ay,: •Tom,--the • very words - I would have spoken," returned Alice, bowing her head, and trembling . more violently stilL • 6 Why—what a silly girl. Pooh Non .4euse I Look up berc, darling mine. You' don't know what you're talking abort, Not narry with John I And why notl". • Because," said the sister,. with more coin pos.ure, " 1 shall only rob bum of his Tatri 111Y. His father will disinherit him. ":And what of that ? John Brodie - has made his own selection ; and let me tell you, e teas made a good one. When I started ut to learn his true character I found Mtn all could wish for the husband of my sister.— md I found out one more thing, too: ;found itn to be one who would count all the gold t all the world as dross and >t woe were it Aped up in one great pile, and offevedito him it he woad sell his heart. hipsiliter— John Brodie loves you too well- r you lam him too *ell—you would both be miserable if you were "to leave him. But then _ know yogi won't. John won't let you." Just as Torn spoke John Brodie - entered the room. The latter took the brother's seat, and was then informed of what Alice had been sayin g . He gazed into her beautiful face a moment, and -then he clasped her to his bosom. Nevei V' he criet:\ " Leave me ? Oh, every hope of joy in the future is Centered in you. Leave me? You cannot. Togeth 'cr, with youth and health, we'll start up Life's bill, and_ cabre our own way. Say; love-- you cannot deny me." She did not. At • otA 7 -- ".. • . .- . • . : • . . .. . . 1 . . .-., . .. ... . . . , . ' . . 1 - . . '.....• .... '.. . ~ . . . ..... .. . .. , .. . . .:- ,. .-.1. -...,..... :. . . .. ... „., .. . .. . John Brodie took sweet ' Alice Darcy for his wife, and, true to his promise, the old man cast him off, and even closed his doors against his disobedient boy. - John was sor ry, for he still loved that old man who had been his fatbe.r. - But the young husband was happy. liie had found 'a wire more valuable than houses, and money, and he knew bow to prize her. He went to his fatber'onee and asked that he might be received, not as an heir, but as a child; but he was Indignantly rejected. ' 6 * But you will love me some time's gain," the young man said.. . " - Never !"*as the parent's response. John wc.nt no more to his father's house- Alice did alOn her power to make hsr hus band happy, and she succeeded. Rod she did more. She helped him in his business, and encouraged him and sustained him in all his efforts. • • In a few years fortune smiled upon John Brodie Ile': had saved tnough, with his , wife's help, to go into business, and an excel lent opportunity- was found. All the young' merchant's ventures proved favorable. Gold came to his cOffers, and he grew rich. In course of time Saw a group of four children about him—three daughters and one son—and his home was one of ant coce and solid comfort, lie had placed his gentle Alice zt the head of a costly establish. went, and thauture promised much. When, Alice's oldest daughter was sixteen, the mother received word that her old uncle —the one• whit had brought her up—was dead, and that all his property was left to her. ,It amounted to a farm srortirsome five thousand dollars, beside good buildings, farming utensils, good . stock of oxen, horses, pigs, sheep and hens. • "We do not need it," said John Brodie. t s‘ But I shall.keep it nevertheless. Who knows but the time may come when our buy may need a hcime. I'll keep it, John." A good man was•obtained to live on the distant eirm i lttid from that time John Bro die almost forgot that there WAS such a thing. . A few More - years sped on, and then came a cloud over-the business world. The cloud grew more heavy and dark—the lightning bolt followed—,and the crash came. - For tunes sank like. wrecked ships; men arose in the morning worth tens of thousands, and re turned to their homes at even, penniless strong firms became weak and tottered ; magnificent business sehemes fell through in a day, carrying their projectors down to ruin ; and a wail of woe and distress wcnt , up from the land. - . John Biodie came home .one evening and milk into a Chair. He *as pale and wan,and a deathlike damp stood upon his brow. "I know it all," whispered Alice, winding kher arms about big neck. " You have lost y rou forttme.". 1. - " Ave," the merchant . grosno.3, g' every_ penny r' . ,:,. .. _ • _ • i" Is ali lost, John t . Have you saved lioth i ing ?" ,1 I "Nothing, Alice:--nothing I I have lost thirty thousand dollars by. one bank. and nearly as mue more by the failure of a sin gle house. lam ruined I 'Oh ! I.could bear it for myself-but for you--my '-wife and children. 'Ti's terrible r . • "What is ;terrible V' asked Afice, in a I whisper. .1 , .. . . , "Such ruin?' , - . . " Ruin of What ?" said the wife, eagerly iind earnestly; with her arms still about her busband's neck. "Arc we not richer than we were *heft we were so .happy in our morn ing of life? See our children—" " A ye—and see them suffer !" ' " No, no," lcried a chords of voices ; and more warm arms were about his neck. "No, no," 'repeated Alice. " Never so hap py as now if they can but help you to happi ness. You have worked for years to rear a glittering pile, and what was it worth after it was done 1 It was worth. to us only our sus tenance. It was not worth the love of one of these ehildren—it was not worth the smilss of peace that 'shall still be ours." "But no I house !—no borne!" groaned John Brodie. " Misplace is alreadY seized." "But we would norltay here if we could, my dear husband. We hare a better home. Come with me—with your children—to our home in the country." John Brodie started with a new life. " Would you—would these petted children —be content in that far-off place?,': " Ah,Johti, the children of your Alice are not petted. i have taught them to love the home of my childhood, and in all their edu cation they have not learned to loire the gau dy show and empty fashion by Which they have been surrounded. John—you shall find your children worthy of you." The stout man wept when this soft influ enee of devotion beamed upon his soul, and ere heretired to his sleep he knew that his wire and his children were anxious to get away upon the quiet farm. As won as possible John Brodie settled up his affairs. Ile gave up everything, and his creditors, when they' saw that be had no more, set him free, But John Brodie could not go without one more attempt to regain his father's, love. He went to the home of his boyhood, but the . stern old man would not see him. The long cherished enmity had become a part of his very soul, and be would not relent. So, John Tit ant away and vas unhappy for a while, but the smiles of his own loved ones soon brought joy to his heart. In due time John Brodie reached his wife's farm. It had been well taken care of; and was in excellent Condition. A neat white cot tage, with green blinds, half hidden by huge cherry trees; S . long succession of sheds, and wood.bouses, end carriage -louses led thence to a white stable, and beyond this was the huge barn. The surface of -.the tillage land was smooth and free from stones, While' the rest of the fart lay in beautiful swells, part y covered hiwcxxl, and in other places dot ted by the grszingberds. " Now if v-p only had a little money to be gin with," said,John, after he had. been over the premises. :. - " I guess we can sane anough," rettanwl Alice with a tee. " llow 1 Where l"- " Why—whet do you suppose this farm has been dointfor the past five years?" The husband gazed eagerly into his wife's AIM but made no reply. "I have received five hundred - dollars a you for it," am -resumed, "and have the money i n my . pocket now. I drew it out from th e Sarmgsßank two weekiago, thus, ..... -......- "FREzDo . _ . I suppose, doing my share '., warcL4 creating -.1. v i • - a panic." ~ ,•-•, . Ali *lrew ost twente4 . :hundred dol lars and-handsillitacilohn,,lle looked at the money r then:into that stilbs*,eet face—and then his head was piliti'wesir - h - n her bosom. . . John Brodia's farming p • p rogr essed .fateous ly; and he soon assured him f that the place would more than support his Family. • In a 40 little while .new strengthct e to his own • frame ; new cob,r came to the unding cheeks of his children, and to the Me of his Alice 1 d cam ss,p e ,,,.. ,rek the old joy. and . .bmilc of other 1 .4 , V.V . ,:blit: wOlild induce 'you Ito go back to ihe-ftitgio'il - 4the great city s John?" Alice I asked, 'When they had been Year in theiri new home. "Only one thing in all the *odd could in. I duce, me," the husband answered, while he stood with both his hands upoh Alice's shoul ders, and gazed into ler still ihandsome lea tures,—" only. one thing in a I the -world— !' the happiness of my wife and hildren." " And if they were hippiehere.?" Alice ri said, with tears in her eyes. ' "Then not all the world bqiide could hire ; i me to leave this happy retrea • ". Time passed on. John Br . ea I , gray, but his step Ica frame strong. his daughters Tied amid doing well, While his a stout maii,lad taken a wit'. control of the firm. The bead of Alice seemed only ne% about her brow, and t r he few her.face were only lurking-pi and hippy joys. • And. the farm had been pr uctive,too.— A railroad- had brought it near to the city,and in.the one item of fruit much tnoncy was ev-' ery year realized over and above the cxpen 7 ses of the_funily. Twenty years had John,Brod ie lived upon his m, and then came another cloud, light ning-bolt, and crash upon the financial world. But notupon him—no, not, tikkm him. He sat in his cosy library, with hived Alice by his salts ' and read in the pope i ls of the terri ble wrecks of fortune in theworld about him. His thought%ran back over twenty years„and he remembered that, other sto m wherein he had been %reeked. So he at sympathy for those who suffered now. . And the storm raged in thegreat world of business, and .b7-and-by a n w wreck was i thrown upon the strand of ru n. It was an old man-,very old: - For yetirs he had prid ed hirfiself upon his wealth. One storm had he ridden out in safety, and killed not feared this one. But of late,sto ket* down memo ries which haunted him, be blid dabbled in stocks, . lie sprculate . &—and ell. • And when all was gon wben the rule Wag complete—that old m took his staff and walked forth front the cit . The autumn e.. 4f wind blew his 'aparso,sno lor.w h?te locks about, and his frame trembled.as he movedon. '- - . John Brodie sat in his - lib ary„ and Alice was by his side. The door opened, and a little'boy—one ofJohres gttand-chthlren-- 7 - lell in an aged man. ' ' ".21fy father!" cried John, Aarting to his Wet.- -- And the old man. put forththis trembling hands andmurmured,— , '" Mr sox !—Mr SON ! 011, 1 NY SON r. Alice took the boy by the. hand and led him out. An hour passed, and thenl John Brodie came forth reading his father by the arm— Both had been weeping luch, l and both look. ed . very happy, though o% - that older face still lingered the , traces of of regrets. ' ' " Alice,'! spoke John," thiS s.NIT Firma re The old hum seemed fearfial at first; but when he saw' that quick, joyus look beam upon Alice's -face, be had no. ore doubt.--= Sbe gave him both her. Lab s, and on the atnext. moment his hoary he was pillowed upon lier bosom. In a little - while he looked up, and, in brkken accents, sail' • " Love me—love me—and fur the ruin t • Love me, both yo`u while I live !" And when the old man ilas - assured of their love_ and they were all sted .together, and the children had - come to .ft , their great grandfather, John Brodie spoke,— .. "I thanked God foe the' orcrash a score 'of years ago, for it gave.me• new life, and ; it opened. to me a knowledge. of the love of my wife and:children, which !had never fully I appreciated before. And now how fervent. ly mayl thank God for this present crash of ruin, - when it has given back t me a father.'! "Oh ! we should be very grateful," said Alice. " Grateful !" cried John,•th tears starting to his eyes as he did so. "'teful!" he re peated. And then be wound ibis arms about his wife's neck, and his tears and kisses were' upon her cheek together. • 1 , Ab—that - was still his geat gratitude— his great joyHtis great hopefhis Wirt ! SELF-dULTOWS...—It is our 'Leine*, care fully toscultivate in our mind i , to rear to the utmost vigor and maturity ev ry sort of gen erous and honest feeling that,belongs to our nature: To bring the dispo itions that are i lovely in . private life into die service and c"nduct of the commonweelt4 ; eo to be pa -Wets as not to forget we gentlemen.— To cultivate friendship, and to incur enmi. ties. To model our principl to our duty and situation. To -be fully rsuaded that all virtue. which is impractical le is spurious; and rather-to run the risk of ling into faults in a course which leads us to act with effect and energy, than to loiter out our days with; out blame and without use. lie trespasses against his duty who sleeps upon his - watch, as well .as he 'that goes over I to the enemy. 14 . ; t . CLmisteNestas.—A Mormist Editor, writ ing an account, of his journey Ito Utah, tells of preaching in places with about the hardeut string of names we ever encountered. He I says that he , had visited and teaselled in the'; following plaoes4n' Teias :-Empty bucket, su lek Rake - pocket ; Dough-plate, -snort, Pos sum-trot, Buzzard-rciost, II -s crabble, Nip. pentad,- and Lick-skillet, ost of . which, however, he says, are • ply one-horse towns: • • . :These go ahead of the nem. of the villa ges and stopping places in . - Jersey Pines, and come near toostod tin reel classic astrtap of New York State—such Ilekiiidteads, Painted Post, Cate # riviCorsers; Oild;l33uusateles,Payililin - amnion Ben ecit'llollow;Acc,-' • • - --.- • • D AGAitIEgY? VL.LVWERI7 aRYZE2OIkIO.99 3.IONTIOSE, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2, :1857. ie's head be . firm, .and his were-all mar !on, now grown and assumed ilver upon the . rays. cifglory . furrows, upon ces fur smiles I'll bless Gid and bless sl,‘ t $: • EACH OTHER. DS DUTRA SINCLAIR. Oh ! there's a theme to make each dream, And power to make eachtunir As light and sweet as the bloom at our feet Which' is culled from the Mayday Sower. . Men seek too high for things thst are nigh, . Foregoing the help of a brother ; Selfish and blind is the state of the mind When wanting in love to each other. Oh ! there's a plan to make each man Happy the whole day through, • Nor need be to roam to better his home Would we find him but work to do. - There's plenty of soil or which to toll, • And add to the golden dower; Would men be. bat wise, and speedily rise In loving and aiding each other. Oh! there's a way to make each.dAy. - And "power to make each night Bright as the moon and the sun's afternoon, Would men be but wise and unite. There's plenty.for all, the greatand the small, And plenty to give to our brother; We too often waste bijou? hurry and haste By wanting in love to each other. • l'From the Philadelphia Press. Bow Maj. Williams became a Conductor. Dr JO!iN, Or LANCASTER. About ten years ago there resided in the little village ot, Tioga, in the county of the smile name, n gentleman named. Major Wil liams. was very much esteemed by all rho knew* him, on account of his ngrettblo and social disposition. In fact, he was ex- tremely popular, and beloved and respected by a large circle , of friends and acquaintan ces. He was tolenshly well off; being pos sessed of a sufficient property to enable him to live in comfortable style; whilst an amia ble wife and several interesting children still further aided to contribute ta his happiness, About the tjrrie spoken of above, a Scotch gentleman named Campbell, came to reside In the same village. He was employed by the wealthy firm of Phelps, Dodge & Co., of Nei• York City, to superintend . one of their lumbering establishments near that place.— Mr. C. was strictly temperate, an ex anent business man, and admirably adapted to dis charge the duties assigned him in a highly satisfactory and creditable manner. It wan but a short time after his arrival that be became acquainted,with raj. Wil: linms ' and in a few months they were fast friends. 'The Major delighted to be in his company, and frequently accompanied him about the country, when in the discharge - of his duty ; and embraced every oppportunity to make him presents of various little arti - elm In the course of a year or two, Mr. Camp bell who had become a very efficient And trustworthy agent - for the . company, wan re moval:ly tkemr to a neighboring tor - morn° distaale Sonth, to superintend the erection of a neW lunibering establishment on a more extensive sk.ale. lie took au 4re etiopato leave of his par ticular and a arm•Fartid7trientt, - the" 3,1 apr, who was loth to , see him:depart . from the Village. . It was but seldom that. he had occasion to i visit that part of the country, and he had not,. been in the little Village for several )ears;,--. but he still remembered hi.; old friend, the Major, who had been so kind to' him; and embraced every opportunity to make inquiry concerning his health, &c. At last the un welcome intelligence reached him that the Major had taken to hard drinking, was-neg lecting his businessand rapidly squandering .. • his means. --. Five years had now rolled away, when one pleasant afternoon, Mr. Campbell found himself at the hotel in the pleasant village of tioga where he had spent so many happy hours of his life in the company of his friend. He - had scarcely alighted from his carriage and stepped on the plaxs, when.he was met by a man in a shocking bad hat, tattered garments, and blvtred eyes, who walked up slapped him on the. shoulder; and accosted him as follows.: "Campbell, my old friend, how are you . 1" " Why, Major Williams is this you 1 ' I an scarcely recoznize you. how have you been ?" " But middling.: lam ashamed to meet you • I have been very unfortunate. In a u•or, I am poor, and a most miserable drunk ard !" "I am very sorry, Major, to find you in this situation,' replied Mr. Campbell. What do you follow ?" • • . . Drinking liquor! But I want to . reform ,—wont you give • me work at- your mills?" "Yes, lean give you plenty of workupon owe Coadition.' "What's that V' the poor man eagerly in- quired. " Why, that,you will solemnly pledge me never to taste liquor again, and I am your friend." The Major clasped his hands with delight, whilst a tear glistened in his, eye, and Fe plied : • "I will swear, Mr. Campbell—liquor shall never enter my mouth again." " Good ! good !" exclaimed Mr. C. ; ".that is a-glorious resolution, and I pray God you may never break it. You can . have work, and good wages too. Get into the carriage and come along with me." *. "But My clothes , are too poor, and my family is in want," exclaimed the Major in a desponding tone. " Don't grieve about that; here are fifty dollars—go and buy yourself a new suit, and provide something for your wife and chil dren." The Major did as directed, and the next day he was ready to start with his friend.— Suitable employment was given him, and he worked faithfully and accumulated conside rable Money. happiness again reign e d in his little homily, and be frequently thanked his frieed for riscuing • bim from the down, *yard road to ruin, and the brink of a drunk. erd's grave." Nobly did' he keep his resolution. In the course of a couple of years he re quested his friend to reoomtnend him to Me. d ge.for a situation on the New York and Erie Railroad. This be gladly did, the very first time this gentleman-clime from the city, in the following manner : - "Mr. Dodge, you. are aware that Major Willianwhas worked for us some time, and has kept his pledge." "Lam sir" as Mr. D.'s reply. 1-.4.Weß;be seas ensic•us to get ai situation on the railroad, and as the firm is largely inter ested requested me to speak to you upon - the object. He is a very worthy men, and I would like to see him fraatiotWt" Mr. D. made no reply for some minutes, but seemed buried in deep thought, when he desired the Major to be sent for. On his ar rival he addressed him as follows: "My dear sir, r understand you would like to get a situation on the railroad V' "Yes, sir," replied the Major, can't.3ou do something for me I" "It is pretty hard to .get "in, but I will gladly valist you all I can. Will you agree to, take any sithation that may be procured for your " I will, sir," was the reply. "Then, it is . fairly understood," continued Mr. Dodge, "that you 'wilt accept of any post that an bo got for you, is it?" "Yes, sir, I agree to that?" " Very well, I will see what can be done for vou. -Mr. Dodge returned 0) New 1"..e1t, and some months. elapsed before anything was heard-from him concerning the Major's pileation. In the mean time; however, he continued steadily at work, like . Mr. Miam i:ter, trusting that "something would turn up." At length a letter was .received from Mr. Dodge stating that he had succeeded in se curing Major Williams a situation us brakes. man, on the New York and Elie Railroad. That evening, when the Major same into Mr. Campbell's office, he tookup the letter and informed him-that Idr./Dodge had suc ceeded in procuring him situation as brakes. man! • •'. What !"- exclaimed the Afajiir in aston ishment. " brakesinan on the cars!" Yes," replied Mr. C. " 0, my God ! Mr. Campbell—brakemen on the cars—just think °fit!" "It is rather an inferior post,",, replied Mr. C, "but then, I believe, Major, that you agreed to take anything that might be offered you." "So I dire; but brokesnsan on the carsl— jewbie&etty ! just think of it ! Suppose some of my friends would be travelling on t 1 road and loosing, out of the cars they would be led to exclaim;• "Is that Major Williams out there screwing that thing up 'I" 0. my gracious! just think of it ! " 'Well, what will you dot". naked Mr. Campbell. " I will take It," said the Major, " I can't forfeit my word." - In a few days he repor:cd himself to •the Superintendent of the road, and ,wasplaced upon a freight train as brakasman. After making one trip to Dunkirk and back he was. promoted to a 'conductorship - on the same train, where he was continued just long enough to learn the business thoroughly, whey' he was ordered to take charge of the lighlning- train. Here he got a good salary, and•occupied a very .important position. lle wits :very attentive to business, and- fultr're. sh r ed tie Confideree'Mr. Dadgehad reposed in him. His object in getting him to agree to take any post that might be assigned him, was merely to illustrate the principle that a good man will agree to rise gradually. Major Williams is now one of the best, most gentlemanly and responsible conductors on the N. Y. and Erie Railroad, and don't t.late a clop of liquor. SEA Mosszs.—A. summer's visit to the sea. shore has passed, and through the coming winter Its pleasant recollections will famish many an hour's social chat. I brought away a little bag of shells, each curious in its way, and another of pebbles; but these aim not as pretty now as-when they lay wet and sparkling upon the beach. I prize most my sea mosses. Perhaps some children -do.not know or im agine how beautiful are the bright leaves and mosses %I - 11M' grow down in the rocky eay. erns of the great ocean. After the storm has passed away, the waves float in landward great q&tntities of these mosses. They are so delicate it seems strange that the waves do not destroy them ; but they come floating up fresh and lovely, and are left upon the sandy beach. Their colors are as varied and brilliant as the flowers of our gardens. The "silver moss" glistens in the water like threads of silver; the "feather moss" -droops its long crimson pluines gracefully ; the "kelp leaves" bear the. most perfect tints of rose color and green. I-low fall 'are all the works of God of vari ety and beauty. My little mosses, carefully pressed, will , after remind me of the hand which painted their exquisite colors, and guid ed them in the rough journey through' their rocky beds, so that not obe tender sprig or leaf was broken. I once saw written beneath a little basket of gay mosses, or seaweed as they are sometimes' called, these beautiful mess. " Oh call us not weeds, hut flowers of the sea, For lovely and bright and gaptinted are we ; Our blush is as deep as therose of thy Dower ; Then can us not weeds; we are ocean's gay flowers. " Not nursed Eke the plants of a summer parterre, Whose gales are hut sighs of an evening air ; Our exquisite, fragile, and beautiful forms. Are nursed by the ocean and rocked by the storms." [A incriean ,Ifeasenger. SOMETHMG Anorr Scnons.—We know a 'an wbo last summer hired four colts ra.- ,tured en a farm, some five miles distant. At least once in two weeks he got into a wagon rand drove over to see how his juvenile hors es fared, lie made minute inquiries of the keeper as to their health, their watering, &c., he himself - examined the condition of t)o pas ture, and when a dry season came on, made special arrangements to have a daily allow ance of meal, and he was c a reful to know that this was regularly supplied. This man had four children attending school kept in a small building erected at the crossroads. Around this building on three - Adonis a space of land six feet -wide; the fourth side is.on a lino with the street. There is not si shade tree in sight of. the Of the interior of the school house, we need not speak. We wish to state one fact only. This wrier of thole colt& and the father of those children haspever been in that school house to inquire after the comfort, health, or mental-food daily dealt .out to his offspring. In the latter part of the summer we chanced to oak " Who teaches your school I" his re ply was, "he did not know, he believed her came was Parker, but he hod no time to look after school matters.' —Americon -Agricul , twist. YANKEE PONTItY.- , -A down east poet - thus immortalizes the beautiful river Connecticut : " Roll'onjoved Connecticut, long hot thou ram, giving shad to old Hartford end free dom to maul" Dare tole singolgr when you know aground tou to be wrong.. • H. 'H. FRAZIER, PUBLISHER=--YQL..BNck.:4t 114:1:f1A4AkishioPtcrrt#A41)8sti/g1 The following is the substance of ar paper on the above subject, read before the British Association .for the advancement of 'Science, by Herr R. Sehlagintweit - - The existence of the Yak. or. Thibetan-ox, in a wild state, has been repeatedlrdoubted, but we frequently found _ •wild yaks. The chief localities where we met with them were both sides . of the 'range which separates - the Indus from the klutlej,-near the origin' of- the Indus, al ! d near-the environs of Gartok ; but the greatest, number,of then) was at the north of the high Karakorum, range,:ns well as ,to the south ,- of. the Kuenlaen, .Turkistan; In Western Tbibet, particularly in . Laaak; there are - no more yaks in a wild state , atpresent, though 1 have no doubt that they have .tor merly existed there. They seem to; base been extb-pated hero, tb..# population ' , ;being, though very thin, .1 little more nuniefeus than in Tbibet in general. • As !Adak' has been occasionally- more visited by travelers than any other part. of Thibet, the want of the yak here has proliabiy given .rise to ,:the' :den that they are no more to .be found in a mild state at Amongst all quadruped animals the ral; is round at the greatest height ; it stands best the cold of the Snowy 141)euntainsk, and is least affected: by the ratified air. But at the same time the range of temperature in which ulak can live is very limited; the real yak can scarcely exist in Summer in heights-of 8000 feet, We often found large herds of wild yaks—from thirty to forty—in, heights of 18,000 to 18,900 English-feet; and one oc-. casion we traced them even as high 19,300 f,jt—a remarkable ,elevation, as it is.,very . considerably aboVe the limits of vegetation, and even more than 1000 feet above:the-inow line. The hybrid between the yalt'arid•the Indian'eow is **lied Chooboo, and it is very remarkable that the 01001100 S are fertile. The Chooboos, which are most useful do. mestic animals to the inhabitants of the Him alayas, are brought down . to , lower places, where yaks, dO tiot exist, and whereponse quently, they . cannot mix either With. yaks or with the Indian -cow. We had occasion to see and examine the offspring of Chooboos a t far as to the seventh generations acid in all these cases we found the later generations neither much altered -non deteriorated; and we were moreover informed that there.was never found any .limit to the nuintier of gen erations. The Kianr, or wild horse, - lias been often confounded with the Korkhar. Or:wild ass, though they differ considerably in appear ance, and inhabit countries with very . dissim. ilar climates.. The Kiang exists in the high cold regions and. mountains of Thibet—the ass in the heated sandy plains of .Sindlt and I.lelooehistan. The. Kiang is limpid in great nUmbers nearlyin.the same .loCalities as the yak ;:: he does not; however, go up the mount ains so high as the yak, but the range of his distribution' is greater than that of the yak. The greatest elevation where we found Ki angs was.lB,6oo,.ENT,lish feet, while We traced l yak :. as high, up as 19,300'feet.. The regions where the yak and the kin.% are found,..are„ in a zoological point of view, altogether one of the most remarkable and interesting of Lour globe. The highest :absolute elevation coincides here, it is true. with the greatest height of the-snow line, or rather it causes i the suoiii line to lie higher. But those high, 1 plateaus and regions, though ,free from snow and ice in summer, remain a : desert through out the year. The amount of vegetation on -- them is leas than it is in. the Desert between, iSuez and Cairo in .Egypt. Nevertheless, these high,. sterile regions are inhabited by numerous herds Of largd quadrupeds and be side.s,those already mentioned rillmerous - sPe, i cies of wild sheep, antelopes, and a 6.. iv canine. animals, chiefly wolves as, well as hares, are abundant. The herbivorous animals find . here their food only by travelling daily over Vast tracts of land, as there. are only a few • fertile spot; the greater part being completely barren.. The great scarcity of vegetation - , .partiou tarty the entire . abt:ience . of mosses and lich ens, has a very different effect, thangh -an in= direct one, on the occurrence of , birds. The small plants arc the chief abode, of inSeets, the want of mosses and lichens coinciding with a total absence of hitmu; IhnitS, there fore, to its minimum the occurrence of in: sects, the exclusive food tit small birds in ail extremely elevated parts of the globe, where grains are no more found.. We indeed met, travelling twenty consecutive days between heights of 14,1)00 to 18,200 feet, only with three individuals belon,gmg .to a species of Fringilla, but occasionally a few large car nivorous birds, as vultures, Were met with. The'Clorkbar, or wild ass, an animal, which, as I mentioned before, has. been often con. founded . with the Kiang, or wild hotse, in habits chiefly the rather hilly districts of Be looehistan, in Persia, where it is called Ktio lan. Dr. Barth'lately told me, that„aceording to the-description I have him, he thinks the asses ho saw in African identical with the Gorkhars, or wild asses of ,Strullt and Beloo.. chistan. I will now try to give an explana.. tton about the fabulous Unicbrn, or animal which is said to have one horn only. This animal' has been described by Messrs. Hue and Gabe% the famous travelers in Eastern Thibet; according to information they receiii ed, as a species of antelope with one :horn placed unsymmetrically on his head. When my brother Hermann was,in Ilepanl he pro cured specimens of horns, of a wild sheep (not of 1n antelope) of very curious appear ance. At first sight it seemed to be but one horn placed on the centre of the head ; but, on closer examination, and after hating made a horizontal section of the hdin, it *us found to consist of two distinct parts,which'were in eluded in a horny envelope, not unlike to two fingers put in one finger cif a glove. The. animal, when young, has two scparate horns, which are, however, placed so close to each other, that the interior borders begin very soon to touch each other ; later, by e slight consequent irritation, the horny matter forms one uninterrupted vows and , the two horns are surrounded by this horny substance, 'to that they appeer at first sight to be but , one. In conclusion allow me to saga few words about migratory birds. The _ re are tto migra tory birds in theßimalays; we nowhere and at no season , found docks crossing the Pima lays, as many birds of Eumpe cross the *fps, between Italy and Germany,. Thallimal4yen _birds dcknot change, their . abodes on'a large scale; the different various heigktu themselyeu afford them the opportunity . ,4o the . climate they require in different, eika.tona, , the plithts of India, howeyer, chiefly in Ben. lir gal, a large number of birds dirukcipearrliting the breeding time -the3r do110t; =later, leave India alb:tether, but select theirabodes in Jower , impenetmbie jungjunglesidikeks_ of the' Ganges and Brahmacidtstliiirs Sundationnds,' where they were brother' 'Hermann in large it the semis ;time thei . Anßeaty dbmitspoost in Fienesl Proper,- - ... rV"',James -6; -1311 'neY't wilo o # 4: l4.'Ela - gleswOod, Perth; Amboy, Nov. ZOOM, it the age of 65 years, his...beeit'eutleringthitlitt - the past "twelve years - from attaeltsof parity- si", which has tecettly beentianplities* . irith ' ' heart diseasu,. - and aggrinted by 41010110 1 111100- ties of old age. i . • - ' - . 'f:- -:-. ' Idr. Birney 7 v/es-borp , at - Dinsilkie Sy; ~In . 1793. -Ile graduated - at Nassau 1114afew - - - - Jersey-, and studied la*.mith Ifi.,,Dallas in Philadelphia., , At the - age 25 he eopo 'of bi a - planter in Alabama and Arnim:et; iti Shirty"- - five slava!, but sosa,aftetwattle 640-4_,..itittar the practice of his prOfeitsion split stlittpls vine, Ky. ' Early in life Mr. Biritey Itesittlat' l interested- in the ArtiSlayery movemeitt • and not only freed • his own slaves; bat-in ducedhis father-tO•make such - - a diviispition',, of his estate as to leave him his twentrore - .slaves, when he' set them.free at crtess,' , : in 1334 be attempted;' tc.k start - -an - An4 - Slin* newapapen,ia - Kentucky, but finding it kapok ''shale to proctire, - printers there, eoritaeisted' I it.s. publialtion'in Ohie; where it- culled - AS • most violent hostility: lu 1844,.irhen liti.ing E in Michigan, be berame the a I,iikatitrparty"' I candidate fur the - PresideneY, anti fisi.,lieen - - thought by the friends of. Mr. MY iii: l ‘ have • largelyixontributed to his defeat. - ' Sines dot time trite, ,public" have Wel' Beard of him; _ - but he has ',:continuesr to Ibis center Of a i circle. of ardent friends. ". t his yovut- I son might enjoy the advantages of -Mr. isiore Weld's segool, and -that he might bit nearer the frienda of the iileirms which be bad Much at heart, he , renteked to Newsrer soy. Mr. Birney - hasbeen tytiga.Mairis Ilia second wife, who was a sister-ia-Issr of ' the Lion. Gerrit'Smith;'enrviys him, "As a reformer Jarncs G. Birney had none of that .i rancor and bitterness which "sometimos -dia. 'figure the • advocacy : of , a noble eattset. lifs character was singularly : pure, and his mat- .. tation is without a blernioh.. :.-. -, - 3.fEnwsts Isx.—The following' amd—y sis of the Manner in which spiritist tattiio IS natictimes. produced,*owurred a htsr. dale since in . The Vox Populi sayrk: The celebrated 'DavenpOrtmediuine Who, have been perforn , ing bete' the last 'tiro, weeki such wonderful tricks as sic from* various instruments without:- tooth-, ing thep, were outwitted, a day ortwo gnaw, by a printer of this city. The two bop wie diums Were tied.hand4.and feet, and putino• a dark (of course !)'place with the instra; ments, the whole arrangement being 'first. examined, by the spectators. - .Now,, on- ~thla occasion, the said.printer was-a. visitor, .and he determined to apply 'a little privat4 test for hiS own satisfaction. He took albng with him'a very little printing_ink,*.(whiCh is sw. tenacious as wheeig„,mse,) and inarked_thera .with the instruments., • The ,perfonnito!e . went on ; the. tnediutns,Were 'firmly tied - and , hound to their seats, to convince - the andietnie that they could net totieb 'the *. iasteuffien*"; then came the darkness.; then• instintim4l music by the spirits ; Alen the,manager i said I Let there be light,'. and the mediums ,iratt unbqundand came forth—each withfiagiri, well bednubecl with printer's ink." v 7 - 4. -- - - When the deck as reeking like el. Aspen, said a friend-who - has erashelaround.: the.world in a steamship; When e f c#,ancir : sky . seained mingling. ino.-oae, and the winds end' Naves roared tog her ; when fOrderS weie thundered from .tri ipeo., 'and alt - wail 7 iiellfo. e t sionand disrna);, I went doWn into:Atli-Be, gine Room. -' : .'" ' ' .- 1 .' -' . . 'l-(.. . - There all was calm ; steadily and_ the polished arniS turned .the.wheelt; thiough theovhite furrows; of the - sea a, if the eliands. Were anchord; and the winds asTeeg.' •= ' There was a sort of sublimity iii the tlight. Up and down Swayed, the-faanderous beam ;-to and fro, played the.shetts,_ : glitter" ing in the lamp•light as they, went. The valves opened and tiose_det,tholi - wianta tervals, and' the great . :artnst reached - &melt to the dim wells m quietly ,, as The ship grtianed, as, beffeted "by the'etoite,',it - . staggered and rose, and • wallowed :ht. the; trough of the sea, but .steadily 0.n, - Went Engine.. . - It was like a large, stout heart-hrtitties:'ilf - trouble, that never internli6t, but- bestir right - on like the tread of ,mvn in ariner e -,,Citice-. go . Journal - 1 .- 74 r" The cluck struck ten,; T sclizedliticitatt and bade gMxl night to all , eatieptll4 - - - Ilist I: '- courted ; she came the she stood within - the 'portal, and ydd Upon her charms ; and oh I 19nged:thattruirivat to clasp her In Tay arms: ShostiOlie the melon and - stars-4ciiv clear.: and they shone ; I said I thought theicropi would fail unless we had rain soon. ..Then4:,.oged a little 4loser,put my arms arounditer wahrt, t and g41,2 1 ,(..41 upon those _rosy ,much 1 : 67 taste; said . l,'My - d'etiriet - never rest contented, ii t leaVe-to4tightifilib- '; nut a kiss surely grow dettiontetts . - Then • tip ske..turned her.. rosy , ,ImOuth,-And.:,evati thing. •ivass handy.; quick.froitt ed a kiss, oh, Yankee doodle. dandyl rfatt off for home I started, I could * - 0 loaOrit4; with: a light hoot and breeches' .thin - il,:iortils, tied all the way. iiente icqu'ihisliatll4o - I .you tb, who 'seek . ft.r :Nedde4 ,Niop no lass moYe her with a kiss; ALMOST Ag AMiItICA'S.—A writer Spirtt, of the.Tirrsee. in correctiPgoo"ArrM. awl omissina of Bishop 'respect4pg the ""first fnillics":of Virginik allows incl., dentally that:the poet Thomas` Impbelt had. a narrow eScape tom being an Anteriein.-- The - head of the Campbell tamilyin Vi was the Rev, Archibald Campbe l 4frotD =lll4 *- land, related to Stuat t and. Argyle 6upt- Ilk Ile ItePt - eahonl iu Weitmemilands where Chief Juitice Marshall and `the" Plod dents Madison and Monrei were : tsught_ly him. His brother Alexander resided AY& mouth, but, on the,treaking out ot.tht , .. v olution, prefened.44lßriti4h side Ottliet coot , Lion. 'imd fethimid - Seotland,, sithe* .- in .1777;'he I*Atiithe rather ofThonnis Quit. bell, the authOrs of The Pteatiurtas of 'Wipe and " Gertradcof. Wyomine, :of the peAaurrieil daughter rstior. Hearn INES ;~ .. , i - ,i.'il . ~.' ) -•.:-' - i ., . ,c' :1'.4! t ",` <,- ~, ME EIMEIM EMI Mill ==ls= =EI MEESE
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers