glair " litamativral."
v. a. nlmlU, UM sod ?replete?
lotout a vt At;
.... Aztrg . 7 . 7; f 7 . 1 . ,
No Pre ttllltro
moor, fi,.."....htVC=l moaner No oak
411 ommotaiotlimmtut Potv PAID to toothy &tow
4tr. 224.44.1.24241 r,
' 4, - 4 ...di, 2
4
Dellars 04444, et lbw L... 14.4 2
Insat, Agveribles (.4 seog, .4 ft.', 4 mmarer,) I
0. 0.1•11, we yew,
11:2P AVMs& et /OS ROLL vvv4W VO
limy es favenble 144224.
SeiTtff2
Tulin tan EMI, POl ILL.
What mud of all 'hie for and strife,
Each waning with his brother?
Why thould we, in the erowd of life.
Keep trampling down each other ?
le there no goal that can be won,
Wltheat a ismer. to gain it ?
No ether sway of rain' on,
But scrambling to obtain it ?
Oh fellew men, hear wisdom then,
In friendly warning call—
?, Your claim. divide, the world is wide—
Them'. room enough for all.
Whet if the swarthy peasant find
No field for honest labor,
.11e ...duet idly Mop behind,
To thrust aside his neighbor?
There is eland of gunny skim,
Where gold for toil is given,
Where every brawny hand that trim
Its Mrength, can grasp a living•
Ott ! fellow men, remember then,
What ever chance befall,
The world is wide—where those abide,
There. MOM enough for all.
From poisoned air ye breathe hr court.,
And typhos•tsinted alley.,
Go forth and dwell when health resort.,
In fernleohills and valley.;
Where every ann that clears a bough.
Finds plenty in attendance.
Up! leave your loathsome cities, now,
Aud toil for independence.
Oh! hasten, then, from fm erect den,
And lodging. cramped and small;
The worldie wide—in land beanie.
There. room enough for all.
rpginli far away.
Wdl labor find ••Itipinynn,tbl—
A fair day'. work, a fair daj, .0 pay
And toil, will rant enjoyment.
What need, then, of this doily etnfo,
Where each wars with his brother?
Why need we, through the crowd of life
Keep trarttpliug down cock other?
From rage and crime, that distant clime
Will free the romper's thrall ;
Take forttine's tide--the world m wide,
lie. room enough for all.
From ihr Mnsaar'meet's Ploughman
'Some Pa*liaise. In the
LIFE OF DEACON GOODMAN.
Wherein is shown the inconvenience of NOT
having the " Musical Ear."
Deacon Goodman wee extensively known,
not merely , in his own parish, but through
several miles of the surrounding country,
fur his amiable disposition, active benevo
lence, and unquestioned piety. So thor
oughly was the Deacon's character estah
lished, that when the people of the migh
boring to*ns saw him passing by, they
would any—That man was rightly named,
for if there Aver woo a good non, he is
one. And from this there was no dissent
ing voice. Nay; lam wrong in saying
that; for there arc some who never hear
any body praised without an interposing
and qualifying bat ' Ho may be well
enough on the whole, they will say, ' but,'
he. &e.; and then they will go on and
snake him out ' any thing but a clever fel
low.'
The qualifying but' must: beinterptdied
*yin in the ease of Pathos Goodman. He
bad a fault t He would sing in ,nesting.
' Call you that a fault?' taith the reader.
Well then, kind reader, call it a misfortune.
'But why a misfortune?'
I will tell thee. Nature bee eo formed
us, that some have the musical ear,' and
others not. Now this musical ear' has
nothing to do with real character, morel or
intellectual; but yet the persons who have
not the mongol ear' ought never to sing
is sleeting. If they do, they will be sore
to annoy ethos, and make themselves ridki
aloes. Dalian Goodman bad not the ' =i
nked ear.' Whether it were the ' Messiah,'
or Creation,' or Jim Crow and Zip
Ono% it was ail the same to him, so far as
Epode was concerned ; it was just so much
Asking. Whether the artist were Snort
or Olellull, orpoor old John Casco, it was
just so much Addling. He had not the
• amend sir,' and stall less, if possible, the
vansical voles; but yet he mould slag in
maning. Aed the gentle and respectful
remonstrances of the eboir leader ware met
with the mantled reply. Shilling Is pray
ing: yen might as wellask sae not to pray;
if shall nag in mesting.' •
It is now proper for the Biographer to
hint at another trait in the good Deaeon's
eheraeler. Be wag nigher .• set in his way;
or la Writ weeds, Se was dreadfully obsti
nate In what be limed • good and
be we sunnily 'effect in appreelating the
malts of the mum.
We ell know that mudeel people are opt
to be semiiiio and seestlheee • little ea-
Odom ; and who has aver known a thwa
rted Orchestra, or eves • village choir, that
had not le Nyder blow up' at least ones •
parl
d V,I all daub{ Demon Good
man'. d was • vewy serions griemme
to th e , and no mull annoyame to the
oesprgation. lid eonaideration of hie
gnat audit he was indnivid; and hie rag
-
112, Sunday parhonnamea, oftea drew forth
the torttb, tbil if mule murder Irma min,
Demo Goodman would have inch to m
um for. But. time le • point beyond
with* liwbeenumu le no longer a virtue.
Grad jaim hid been taken* the Moir in
11.1=up a new Anthem (selected from
) for Tbarklugiviag day, and the eery
gem of the plea was • eel% width had been
gito the emeeteel robe, and the
b= nide girl In the village. All who
Mended the rebearenho were pufeetly de ,
VIM with the solo a. sow by 'WM
law limo very 111111krali. 111 woo mark
ed kat bigledur. es
- rj
I) it . \. - . • :._ 11 *ii
11 Li, „),Itrike, *eta* crats
VOLUME VI
Dolce,' • Affetuso,' Crescendo,' Piano,'
Pianissimo,' with changing keys, and data
and .harps, springing out from unexpected
places; but she bad conquered it all.—
Three or four accomplished singers who hod
come from Boston, to pass Thanksgiving in
the °country, and who attended the last re
hearsal, ware in raptures with little Mary's
singing. They h.& heard Tedesco, and
Biscaccianti, and Madam Bishop; and yet
they say, ' for a country girl, she is 111 prodi
g3'..
In due time, Thanksgiving day arrived ;
and while the second bell' • was ringing,
news came to the-village that a very serious
accident had happened - to the Universalist
minister. His horse bad thrown him, end
either his leg or bin neck we broken ; the
boy who.hn brought the news had forgot
ten which. • I hope it is not his neck,' said
the rich and charitable old church member.
When Deacon Goodman heard that remark,
he held up his hands and exclaimed • I
never !'
Now the Deacon dearly loved ' good
preaching, and the meeting-house was to
him a • house of feasting.' But his religion
was of a very practical kind and although
he thought but precious little of his good
works, be took care to do a good many of
them, and was far from believing with Anne
dorf, that • good works are an impediment
to salvation.' So, and ho to Mrs Good-
man, ' do you go to the house of feasting,
and get all the good you can, and I will go
to the house of mourning, and do all I can.'
And away he went to ace, and if possible,
to relieve the Universalist minister.
In the mean time the congregation as
sembled, and the worship proceeded in the
usual way. - At length conic the Anthem.
It even went beyond expectation. A long
'rest' immediately preceded the solo. It
was no rest for poor 'little Mary.' It wan
the most anxious minute she had ever pass
ed. She arose, blushing and trembling.
Ike agitation gave a tremor to her voice,
which added to the pathos (litho music. It
was beautiful.
Now, Deacon Goodman always made it a
rule, when any accident bail detained him
until after worship had commenced, to cone
in very softly. llow different from the
fashionable flourish ! All were intent on
the solo. None heard, and but few saw
Deacon Goodman enter his pew, and take
up the sheet en which the words of the an
them were printed.
Unlike that of many singers, the articu
lation of • littlo Mary , was perfect. The
Deacon soonsfonnd tie place; and to the
astonishment of the congregation, indigna
tion of the choir, and the perfect horror of
' little Mary,' he 'struck in,' and accompa
nied her through the whole solo. Accom
panied I I • Oft in the stilly night,' annum
ponied by Capt. Bragg's hattery, would
give some notion of it. Poor. little Mary
was sick a fortnight. Whv don't you cut
that old hollow's tongue off?' said ono of
the Boston singers. ' What good would it
do?' said the choir lender, • he would howl
through his nose.'. They wore all very
cross. As for the Deacon ho looked around,.
as innocent as a lamb, and thought he haffT
sung as well as any of them.
Immediately after meeting, the choir
leader railed on the nli ll ister. 'Sir,' said
he, tide must step. If Deacon Goodman
sings again, I do not.'
. .
• Oh, I know it,' said the minister, • I
have long felt the difficulty ; but what ens
we do? Deacon Iniodman is a most ex
cellent man, and his only faults are that he
is rather set in his tray and will sing in
• But Deacon Goodman is a rcuonalcle
n,' said the choir leader.
On moat occasions,' replied the minis-
• Do go and see him, sir, for my mind is
made up; if ho sings in meeting, I do not.'
'Deacon Goodman,' said the minister, • I
have come on a delicate errand; I have )
come to present the respectful request of
the choir that you would not sing in meet
ing
The Deaeon was tbundeistruek : but ho
soon recovered. • Singing is praying,' said
he : ' They may just as well ask me not to
pray : I shall sing to meeting.' And on
the next Sunday, more enough he did :
louden, and if possible, more inharmonious
than ever. The men singers looked dag
gers at him ; the girls hid their smiles be
hind their music books. Little Mary was
not there.
• This shall stop,' said the choir leader.
• I will go and see him myself '
• Deacon Goodman, we all most highly
respect you, as you most well know: but
you have not the musical use nor the must,
cal voice, and It is the earnest wish of the
choir, and many of the congregation, that
you do not again sing in meeting.'
The Deacon wee again thunderstruck,
but soon reoovered.'Bioging is raping:
said be, • and they might as well ten me not
to pray. I shall stag to muting
The good Ileseon was dramifelly sal in
his way, and so it went on again weak Air
week, la the same old way.
But an budding 'marred, widish eon
&Abated musk to bring this singular case to
a ends. About two miles from the Dei+
eon's eon:foldable dwelling, there was a
'Matched hovel, whieb imperfeetly sheltered
the wretched wife and children of a still
=me wretched drunkard.
On ono of the most inelentest oveninp
of s New England January, the Dosses
and his family were sheerftilly and thank
fully enjoying a glorious bakery bre ; Mn.
Goldman was mewing for the family, and
her daughters. for the Mistionsry Soddy.
His son was reading the Massaohumas
Ploughman, and the good man himself was
just finishing o ff s sermon by a distiugadsh
ed divine of - his own denomination, when' .
bang went Ow front .or, and in mane his
goalisighlbor and own beloved and reapeded Moister. IWhy I I mid Ma
mma Goodman, wYtt hos
b you
along hi mash • Ifight . sar garle:,
N:stpal{ra Iretzo, MlairirlVarr, Igrra',l.l:lll7.lrT, N'llmfrMlVa
Minister had his peculiarities as well as the
Deacon. Among others, he was very close
mouthed about his own good deeds: He
merely answered, ' I have been about my
duty, I hope.' The fact wan he had been
to visit, and to talk, and pray, with a poor
!dying negro. ' Seems to me you are rath
er crusty, said the Deacon, ' but I suppose
you are half frozen, and so sit down and
thaw yourself out.' I thank you,' said
the Minister, • but I merely calledio tell
you that I have just left a scene of misery;
and I want you to go there as early as you
can in the morning. On my way here and
home, I peeved that wretched hovel which
lwe all know no well. I felt it my duty to '
up
! c ause and learn the mum of the terrible up
!roar within. I found the wretch beating
his wife; and hqr scream., and hie horrid
oath. made my blood run cold. I knocked j
the rascal down; ( served him right,' said
the Deacon,) and think he will be quiet un-;
til morning; but do go as eadly as you can.'
Od rabbit the varmint,' said Deacon'
Goodman, ' and od rabbit the eternal blast
ad rum shop.' That was the nearest to
swearing that the Deacon was ever known
to come.
' Put old Meg in the wagon,' said he to,
his son. • Deseon, don't go to night,' said
Mrs. Goodman. - •Do wait till morning,'l
said all his daughters. • Let one go,' said
his son. • 31ind your own business,' saidl
the Deacon to all of, them, • I shall go to-
night.' • When it came to that, they knew
there was no more to be said. Ile was
dreadfully • set in his way.' lle took a
' bag and a basket, and went down cellar.
lle filled the bag with potatoes. Ile took '
a piece of pork from one barrel, and a piece
of beef from another, and put them in the,
I basket. Ile went to the closet, and took a!
brown loaf and a white one. He went to ,
Ithe wood pile, and took an armful of wood,
and told his son to take another. All wan
put in the wagon; he not forgetting six
candles and a paper of matches. Deacon'
I Iloodman needed no secondary motive to'
' Chrildian duty ; yet historical truth do
mantle the concession, that the wife of the ,
goon drunkard was hie first love. She jilt- !
red him ; or es we Yankees say, ' gave him
the mitten,' in favor of the abject wretch
who was now become hoc tyrant. Anil this,
was the way lie • fed fat the ancient grudge'
he owed her! The truth is, Deacon Good
mon knew nothing about grudges, ancient
or modern. The old Adam would ocea
sionally flare up, but ho always got him un
der before sun-down.
All was ready, and in five minutes the ,
Deacon wee • exposed to tire peltings of the '
pitiless storm.' But what did he care for I
dm storm ? •I am going on God's errand,' I
said 100 to himself. ' latu going to vita
the worse then widow and fatherless.' The
next thing he said was, • Oh, get out.' I
That he meant for the proooptings of his
95n proud heart. ,
Misery, misery, indeed did he find in that
most miserable dwelling. The poor wretch
himself was dead drunk on the floor. Tito
I Poor Palo woman was 'sobbing her very
heart out. The children were clamorous;
'Fialtne*w were the words of their clamor.
' I am cold,'—• I am hungry'—end that,
woos all. The Deacon brought in the wood;
made up a fire ; lighted a candle; and emp-
I tied the hag and basket. • The poor pale!
I woman wept and sobbed her thanks. • Oh,
you varmint,' said the Deacon, as he looked
let the husband and father; and broke off,
a piece of bread for each .of the children. I
The general commotion aroused the poor
wretch from his drunken stupor. Be look-1
eel up and recognised the Deacon.
• Illdlo, old music,' said he, 'aro you home?
'give us a stave, old nightingale. Sing as
you do in meeting. Sing and scare the
rats away.' ' Why, what on earth does the
critter mean ?' said the Deacon. Tho poor,
pole,
grateful woman smiled through her
teors. She could not help it. She had
been a singer in her better days : she had
also heard the Deacon sing.
I do nor record gum incidents merely
because they are honorable to Doe. Good
man, but because they aro particularly con
nected with my story. In thim errand of
merey the good Meaeon caught a very se
rious cold; it affeeted his throat, and his
nose, and even his leap ; andgave to his
voice a tone not unlike to that colthe lowest
note of a crooked bass-viol alternating with
the shriek of a elarionet powerfully but un
skillfully blown. On Saturday evening he
soaked his feet in hot water; drank copi
ously of het balm tea; went to bed and said
be felt comfortable. 'Now Deacon,' said
I Mrs. Goodman, you are dreadful hoarse ;
_y ou won't sing to-morrow, will you?'
Singing is praying—and—'—he dropped
asleep. And sure enough he did 'sing to
morrow,' and itwurpassed all that had gone
berme ' This is.the last of it,' said the
choir leader, 'I have done.' In the after
noon, the eboir was *meant, some of the
singers absent and others mattered about
in the pews. Thi Minister read 'throe
cerise of a psalm ; and then observed, the
choir being atoms, siniing mast neesesatily
be omitted' Bat Drawn Goodman saw
no such neeeseity. He arose, and smog the
three verses himself I He stopped six time
to wens; and blow his noes between the
verses by way of symphony! The next
day he was elek abed. NAparish mewing
was hastily Galled, and a resolution unani
mously passed, that ' Whereas the 'solemni
ty and &opium - of . public worship depend
muds on the character el the music :
that hereafter, no person shall deg
in meeting, in this parish without the up
, probation of' the eh* l' Rather a stria-,
go - nt meager. •'
bat what would they do ? I
The Minder called owDeaeon Goodman, 1
!and handed him the reeolutkm. He read
it over three times. He then calmly folded !
!up the paper, and handed it beck to the
Minister. This le a free eountry_ yet, I
ope. slurli sisal seseting.'
those very words He was dreading, ' set
15 his may!
- .Tim Droop: said As Misisisr,
MONTROSE, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1819,
have a most painful duty to perform : I am I
instructed to tell you, that your connection
with the society must cease.' The Deacon
, hero started from his seat. Had the full
I moon split into four pieces, and dance. I a
quadrille in the heavens: Orion singing,
and the Northern Bear growling bass, he
could not have been more astounded. Ile
was silent. Emotion after emotion renal
over his heaving spirit. 'At length tears ;
came to his relief,' as they say in the Nov
els. Ho spoke, but almost inarticulately.
I' I know I am a poor unworthy creature,
but I hope they will take mo in somewhere.' j
' The Milliliter wept himself. I - low could lie
help it? The Deacon's cold was nearly
cured; and about an hour after the inter
view, ho was seen mounted on old Mug,
heading duo north. Four miles in that di
rection, lived the worthy Minister of moth
er parish. The Deacon found !lull in his
study, where also was Ida daughter copying
music. She was a proficient in the art, and
played the organ in her father's church.!
She had hoard of the Deacon's musical
troubles, and had also heard him sing.
'Sir,' said he to the Minister, 'there has
been a little difficulty in our parish, which
makes mo feel it my duty to withdraw; and
I hove come to ask the privilege of uniting
with years.' (At that moment the young
lady vanished from the room.)
'I much regret the difficulty in your
parish,' said the Minister, ' and hope it will
bo amicably nettled. But if you finally
conclude to withdraw, we shall be most
happy to receive you; and whoa it shall
•
please the Lord . to take good old Deacon
Grimes to himself, (and a very few days
moat now give him his dismission,) we shall
expect you to sit in his seat.' After half
an hours' pleasant conversation, the Deacon
' arose to take his departure. At that ow
moot, a boy came in and handed a billet to
tho Minister. He glanced at the billet, and
' Deacon, sit down one moment,' said lie.
He read the billet, and after 30010 hesita-
Lion said, • I have received a singular cum
munication from our choir leadOr; ho has
somehow or other hoard of your intention The Dutchman area the Balloon.
I
'to join our society; and bus beard of it with A great many curious and facetious
very great pleasure: but, he odds that it timings bane been told of lb:remote, and
is the earnest and unanimous wihli of the their :oriel carriages, 'yclept balloons. A
hoir that you will not sing in meeting.' 'balloon making a descent on or near poo
-1 The Deacon was-again electrified, but had pie who have never been such a flying um
got used to the shock; • Singing in pray- chine, unquestionably looks a leetle ••su
ing; and I join no church where I cannot pernaturablike," and, no doubt, makes their
sing in the meeting,—good day, sir.' Ho hair rise about as sudden as •• breadstuffs"
was very set in his way.' ido semi-uccaitionally.
Five miles West of Lie own dwelling, 1 . The Penntqlvanionsnre great on balloon
lived the good Pastor of another flock. The ing, that State having produced about a'
Deacon found him shelling corn in his crib. baker's dozen of meal experimentalists,
I This Alinister, although eminently pious, whom performances have been attended by
thought it no harm to be a little waggibit in no disastere, some pecuniary advantage—
a good cause, and for a worthy object. Me to the meronauts— and considerable addition
also had beard of the Deacons musical to the general stork of useful science.—
troubles, and shrewdly suspecteil the object , Sono: years ago, a balloonist, named West,
of his visit. • Deacon Goodman, lam glad mode several voyages to the upper regions
tq eon you; said he, • this is not exactly from Laoeastor, Pa. About the same pc
ministerial labor, is it ?' •lam of a differ- lied, a Dutch tanner from the interior of
'cut opinion,' said the Deacon, • any honest New York State, Dutch na sour knout, took
and useful labor is ministerial labor; I hate it into his head to pay a visit to some lif
all Dandies —the Lord forgive toe, I don't'' his equally Dutelifrrots iu the aforesaid
, like then; and I like a dandy Minister IL:master county. Nick Morgan was the
I least of env."You and I are agreed there, old farmer' s 1/nmue—simplo end honest he I
said the Minister; ' come, walk into the was as the day ia long—with not ten con
house and see my wife; she says she is in . secutive ideas beyond the daily routine of
Love with you for your honesty and your his farm; a railroad and locomotive lie had
oddities." I never!' said the Deacon • but never seen, and as to the matter of balloons,
I thank you, I am in something of a bur- i they were altogether such contrivances as
ry ; and have a little business which wo can he had never dreamed or heard of. Mount
just. as well settle here. ed upon his old sorrel mare with a few ai
-1 • There has been a little difficulty in our !hies, and a clean shirt or two in his saddle
'Parish, which makes me feel it my duty to [bags, old Nick started on his tour for Penn
i withdraw, and I come to ask the privi- sylvania.
!lege of joining yours.' At this tlio Bever- The from had preceded old Nick some
end genthman looked as if be waa very few days in his visit, and he Wailed along,
much surpri.ed. •Is it possible,' said lie; to join her.
' • well, Deacon, though an ill wind for them, Jogging along quietly and unsuspecting,
it is a good ono for us; for it has blow., not far from his journey's end, the old fur
you hither. Wo shall be moat happy to mer and the old more were crawling up the
receive you, especially as our choir leader slept, of a little hill, when a voice bawled
has followed the multitude and gone West. out—" Hurry on, old man ! I wont to
Wo have been looking about for a coupe- pitch my grapnel into that bill eide r -hurry,
tent man to take Irisplace. Oar singers hurry."
are all young and di ffi dent, and'each ono is Ths old sorrel pricked up her ears, and
loth to take the lead. Wo bear that you old Nick's eyes " pouched out" oonsidera
sing the most dillimdt muido ble, and be screwed and twisted them he
' Why, mercy upon you,' said the Dea- hind and before, right, loft and down below,
eon, • I don't know one note from another. yet nothing could he see, when still louder
I know that singing is praying; and I sing and more stentorian than before, same the
in meeting an I pray in meeting.' same awful voice—
• Exctum me, my friend,' replied the . Min- •• Come, come, old codger, ride on, tido
ister, •it is your modesty that now speaks; on, I say, or I'll pitch square on to you I"
you do understand muds, you mast under- The old man was bewildered, alarmed,
stand music; or you could never sing Mo- horrified. He reigned up the old mare, and
cart with proper expression ; and did not the poor old " critter," as terrified as her
you sing that moat beautiful solo, which is master, trembled like a leaf. Old Nick's
worthy of an angers ear and voice?' Now eyes fairly hung out in every direction but
this was all Greek to the Damson, and like upwards—but not the first ghost of a thing
a sensible man as he was, he always said could he me, moo the hill en which he stood
nothing when he bad nothing to say. • You transfixed, and a few old stumps close by.
say trul' condom:4 the - Minister, • that To these old stumps, West, the montane
singing Is praying.' But to those who —who was some hundreds of feet in the air,
know nothing of mash, it is praying in an Just over the Dug:an—wished to fasten
unknown tongue, sal lam sure you are is grappling ire d stop his balloon ;is
not Papist enough to approve dam; mule night was approao ing, and no better spot
is a language,
_and like other languages could be easily found there, and then West
must be learned before it can he spoken. was extremely anxious to alight. But the
When the deaf and dumb Walla to speak old fellow and his horse materially inter
our common language they make strange hired with his arrangement. Time was en
noises, and still worse anima do we make erything Just then, the seronant did not
when without the email oar or the meal- wish to book up the traveller, nor lose his
sal voles, we attempt to sing.' balloon, so pining vexed at the Dutchman's
Thus sensibly did that good Minister deity, down, Vest throve his grapnel. at
speak. The Demon was I good deal 'stook taohed to many fathoms of strong coal, but
up,' though set in At, may, be was not a which, proving & &vele too short,just lit
fool; and only needed to be touched in the upon the hind - quarters of the old sorrel,
right pima 'lt Maar appeared to lee in booked the Dutchman's coat tail, and
than light before,' said the Deacon thought- clamped the bank part of the meddle tight
fully. ea wax l At thin critical juncture a puff of
And yet, my friend, it is the trim lig*t.' wind bounced the balloon upwards, and
mid the Minister. ' And now, do let me lifted tie mars clean and ohm off her hied
giro you a word of advice : Go home, and , legs, and but for the girth parting, the moor
take your old teat on Banda{ ; and never quadruped, Dutchman And all, might have
again attempt to sing in meeting. For if been carried bodily off t The old mare
your heart is right, your ear is et:tuned, and , turned up her eye just as the girth of the
your voids, the kind, is anything but I meddle broke, and espying the great balloon
musioal.' The Dome ' said nothing but , ova bead. else bolted as If the mumble
thought the more.' He mounted old Mag.' old Niak' himself was after her.
The Angel of reflection came down, and Poor Nl* Morgan !
- his coat tail mine
oat ups log mane, and looked him foil in l out by the mots, and he and time saddle
Baader, 4oas OW. Hap Wore- it Ititabod imdimulad forty rods deep
'mons Is do old auire's awn an be- the 104 where, with mil the bough kmook.
proper seat fpr an Angel I lam afraid you
are
T_prond. Who ononcerodeon an Ass.?
The Deacon passed a point in the road
where on ono side was a sturdy oak that
had been blown over bye recent whirlwind,
and on the other, a flourishing willow,'
gracefully bending before the panning breeze.
Od rabbit it,' said the Deacon to httnnelf ;
it wan the first word he bad spoken, •to
think that I should be ouch an obstinate old
fool '
!He npproached his own village. The
reasonr for his errand abroad bad been
I strongly suspected, and they were all on the
!look-nut for his return. There stood the
choir lender. Welcome home, Deacon,'
said he, hope wo have not lost you yet.'
' Get out,' said the Deacon, with a good
natured but rather sheepish look; and on
he wont. Thorn stood the Minister, ' Wel
lcome home, Deacon, I hope we have not
lost you yet." Get ;' he was Just
going to say get out, but habitual reverence,
for the Minister cut hint short.' He looked'
nt the Minister, and the Minister leok'd at
him, and Loth burst into a fit of laughter.'
The choir leader came up and took the Don
eon'. hand, and joined in the merriment.
Od rabbit you all,' said be ; and on he
went. At the front door and windows of
his own house, were his wife and daughters,
and two or three of the singing girls, 'all of
a titter.' They hod seen and heard his in
terview with the Minister and knew that,
all was well. Od rabbit the whole bunch'
of you;' said he, and went to put old Mag
in the stable.
Deacon Goodman took his old seat on
Sunday, but since that day's adventure,
has never sung in meeting. Once, and
but once, did he attempt to raise a realm
on his own private account. He waii m his
barn putting some hay in the cow'. manger.
Now, the neighbor. were always ready to
do a good turn for Deacon Goodman ; and
before he had finished the first verse, two
of them rw+hed in and asked him if his cow
wee choked! He never sung again.
NUMBER 6.
ed out of his body, the poor old man lay
stretched out, like a spread eagle.
There, you infernal old donkey, you,"
bawled the Arenaut, as ho was sailing
away, there, you aro; I knew it would
be so."
Old Nick revived is time to hear this
malediction, a nd get one glimpao of the ey
ing machine, when up he bounced, and after
his mare ho wont ten or twelve wiles an
hour.
On, on he splurged, until not two ounces
of vital air filled his breathing apparatus;
over the fence of his relative's grounds Nick
flew, and up the lane ho traveled, bustled
into thu house, foamed, and cut up such
wondrous strange didoes, that his wife and
friends believed ho had gone stark mad !
i Exhausted quite, the poor old fellow
throw himself down upon the bed, and to
1411 the combined efforts of his friends, the
tongue of Nick Morgan refused to operate
'and unravel the mystery. At length his
from essayed—" Nicholas, vat ish do mat-
I ter mit you 9 Umph, shpeek, and dell your
rife rot do matter ash, umpli
No reply, but turtling his head over, and
hulking at his with and friends with all the
subdued tenderness of a dying calf, tho
fellow offered up a heavy doleful groan.
, Nieholas, mine tern hushbant, vat ink
do madder, mnpli 9"
Another look, anti another dreadful groan.
"Nichol., Nicholas, vy don't ye dell me
vats de matter Y"
The old men rose up a little, stared
around, caught hold of his wife's arm to
, satisfy himself that she was there, real flesh
and blood, then in a voice low and strong,
lbetokening the deep solemnity of his (cei
lings, lie spate—
, " I've seen—seen—l—l've seen him!"
The friends all huddledaround, the old
:
Prow leaned over the bed, and, with a voice
of extreme anxiety, asked—
' "Seen hint 4—who von it vot you seed?"
"I—l've seen him !"
" Who 9" cried all the friends.
" Der di-vil !"
"Der di-sill" echoed the whole group
of listeners.
' "Tans, an oh, wino gout, root a pig pag
he carries on hish shouliers r—Yankee
' Blade.
Geographical Memoir
UPPER CALIFORNIA:
DV 30I1N 1.711..LL11 FREMONT.
(Coniinued.)
Merck 30.—The sun rose in masses of
clouds over the eactern mountains. A
pleasant morning, with a sunrise tempera
ture of 40 deg.s, and some lausyttitoes—
never seen, as is said, in the roast country;
but at seasons of high water abundant and
venomous in the bottoms of the Joaquin sod
Sacramento. On the tributaries nearer
the mountain but few ore seen, and those
'go with the 51121. Continuing up the val.
Icy, we crossed in a short distance a large
wooded creek, having now about thirty-five
fort breadth of water. Our road was over
an upland prairie of the Sacramento, having
a yellowish, gravelly soil, generally two or
three miles from the river, and twelve or
fifteen from the foot of the eastern moun
tains. On the west it was 25 or 80 mike
to the foot of the mountain., which hero
make a bed of high and broken ranges. In
❑ne afternoon, about half a mile above its
mouth, INC eneamped on Deer creek, anoth
er of these beautiful tributaries to the Sae
ramento. It brot the usual broad and fer
tile bottom lands common to these streams,
seeded with groves of oak and a large
sycamore, (platoons occidentalis,)
distin-
Iguiahcd by bearing its bathe in strings of
three to five, and peculiar to California.
Mr. Lessen, a native of Germany, leas es
tablished a rancho bore, which he ban
stocked, and is gradually bringing into cul
tivation. Wheat, es generally throughout
the north country, gives large returns; cot
ton, planted in the way of experiment, was
not injured by Dorn, and succeeded well;
and he hoe lately planted a vineyard:tor
which the Sacramento valley, is considered
to bo singularly well adapted. The sea
sons aro not yet sufficiently underntood, and
Jon little has boon done in agriculture, to
afford certain knowledge of the capacities of
the country. This farm is in the 40th de
gree of latitude; our position on the river
being in 30 deg. 67 min., and longitude 191
deg. 60 min. 44 see., west from Greenwich,
and elevation above the sea 500 foot.
I About three miles above the mouth of this
stream aro the first rapids—the present
head of navigation—in the Sacramento riv
er, which, from the rapids to its mouthln
the bay, is more than 200 miles long, and
increasing in breadth from 150 yards to
000 yards in the lower part of its course.
During sin days that we remained here,
from the 80th March to the sth April, the
mean temperature( was 40 dog. at sunrise,
52 deg.s. at 9 in the morning, 57 dog. 2 at
noon, 50 deg. 4 at 2 in the afternoon, 58
deg.B at 4, and 62 deg. at sunset; at the
eorresmonding times the dewfeedlot was at
87 deg.o, 41 deg.o, 88 deg.l, 30 dog 0,
44 deg. 9, 40 eleg.fi ; and the moisture In a
outdo foot of air 2.838 gee., 0.179 gro, 2.-
035 gre., 8.034 gm., 8.700 gra., 8.150 grs ,
respectively. Mesh eloudy weather and
some "hewers of rain, during this interval,
oemeidembly reduced the temperature, which
rem with fine weather on the sth. Salmon
was now abundant in the Ekteremeato.
Those whisk we obtained were generally
between three and four fitotrhe length, and
appeared to be of two distinat kinds. It is
said that as many me four different kinds
emend the river at different perieds.. The
great abundant* in wirieht roue*
girlie it en Important plans among the re
sources of the erountry. The Salmon crowd
in Immense number. up the Umpqua Tla
math, end ;MOW rivers, end brio every
little river and: wok on doe Gout north of
the Bay Sati'lheintitee, sealing the river
Ttanoth te the lake war PI Iftertet Thigh
upwards of 4.000 feet above the see, and
distant from it only about . 200 anon
In the evening if the 6th . tie resumed
our journey northwardsp osin p o g on .
little creek, near the t o , 'o n...
emigrant from " the woe o o sog o b.
ing himself, and had already built a bows.
i
It s a handsome place, wooded with gswrhn
of oak, poi along the creek are sycamore,
ash, cottonwood, and willow. The day wag
dee, with a northwest wind.
The temperadmraakommitte the seat day,
(April oth,) was 42 deg., with a northeast
erly wind. We continued up the Sacra
mento, which wo crowd in canoes at a
farm on the right bank of the river. The
Sacramento was bore about 140 yards wide,
.d with the actual stage of water, which
1 was informed continued several month.,
navigable for a steamboat. We encamped
a few miles above, on a creek wooded prim
, eipally with large oaks. Grasp was good
and abundant, with wild oats and pea vine
in the bottoms. The day was fine, with a
cool northwesterly breeze, which 'bad in it
the nit of the high mountains. The wild
oats ',Pre were not yet headed.
The snowy Peak of Shoat, bore directly
north, showing out high above the other
mountains. Temperature at sunset 57
deg., with a we,,t stied and sky partly cloud
ed.
April 7 .—Tho temperature, at sunrise
was 37 deg., with a moat air; and a faintly
clouded sky indicated that the wihd was
southerly along the coast. We travelled
toward the Shastl peak, the mountain
ranges, on both sides of the valleys, being
high and rugged, and snow-covered. Some
remarkable peaks in the Sierra, to the out
ward, are called the Sisters, and, nearly
opposite, the Coast Range shows a promi
nent peak, which we have called Mt. Lino.
Leaving the Sacramento, at • stream
called Red Rank creek, and continuing MS
the head of one of its forks, wo entered on
I a high and somewhat broken upland, dia
-1 bored with at least four varieties Of oaks,
with mansanita (arbartus ifenriesii) and
other el. obbery interspersed. A remark
, able specie. of pine, having leaves in threes,
(sometimes sis to nine undies long,) with
bluish foliage, and a spreading, oak-shaped
top, was scattered through the timber. I
have remarked that this tree grows lower
down the mountains than the other pines,
being found familiarly associated with the
oak., the first met after leaving the open
valley& and seeming to like a warm climate.
Flowers were as usual abundant. The
splendid California poppy characterised all
the route along the valley. A specie. of
clover was in bloom, and the berries of the
mansanita wore beginning to redden on
some trem, while on others they wore still
in bloom. We encamped, at an elevation
of abourl,ooo feet above the us, on •
largo stream called Cottonwood creek,'
wooded on the bottoms with cake, and with
cottonwoods along the bed, which is sandy
and gravelly. The water woe at We time
about twenty yards wide, but is frequently
fifty. The face of the ountry traversed
during the day was gravelly, and the bot
toms of the meek where we encamped have
a sandy soil.
There are ale or seven rancherias of In
dians on the Sacramento river between the
farm where we had crossed the Sacramento
and the `mouth of this creek, and many
others in the mountains about the heads of
these streams.
The next morning was cloudy, threaten
ing rain, but the. sky grew brighter as the
sun rose, and a southerly wind changed to
northwest, which brought, as it never fails
to bring, akar weather.
We contfnued 16 miles up the valley, and
encamped on the Sacramento river. In
the afternoon (April 8) the weather again
grew thick, and in the evening rain began
to fall in the valley and snow on the moun
tain. We were' now near the head of the
lower valley, and the fare of the country
and the weather began sensibly to show the
influence of the rugged mountains which
surround and terminate it. e
The valley of the Sacramento is divided
into upper and lower—the lower two hun
dred miles long, the upper about one hun
dred ; and the latter not merely entitled to
the distinction of upper, as being higher up
on the river, but also se having a superior
elevation of some thousands of feet above
it. The division is strongly and geographi
cally marked. The Shull peak stands as
the bend of the lower valley, in the forks of
the river, rising from a base of about 1,000
feet, out of a forest of heavy timber. It
ascends like an immense column upwards of
13,000 feet, (nearly the height of Mont
Blanc,) the summit glistening with snow,
and viable, from favorable 'mints of view,
at a distance of 140 miles down the valley.
The river here, in &wending hem the up
per valley, plunges down throegh a Canon,
falling 2,000 feet in twenty miles. TM;
lugger valley is 100 mile. long, heavily tim
bered, tho climate and productions mods:
lied hilts altitude, its more northern posi
tion, and the proximity and elevation of the
neighboiing mountains severed with mow.
It contains volleys of arable land, and is
deemed capable of settlement. Added to
the lower valley, it makes the whole valley
of the Sacramento 800 miles lon,.
I quaker AMONNO&
There is a good story told of a Quaker,
who during the late war with England own
ed a vessel in which he had taken passage
for home, baying been to a foreign port on
bubiness. On the pemage the vessel was
overhauled by a privateer. The Friend wan
d course nnzious to save his property, and
at the name time desirous of avoiding • par
ticipation in fighting. He said to the Cap
tain :
I do UWE approve of fighting ; but thee
must get the vessel to ports:l4ly."
Ile then went below. The enemy rap
idly approached and having fired a few
times, name near with the intention of
bearding. As she got along eide..olll , Qua
ker friend canto upon leek with la battik
et in his hand. One of the enemy had
seised a rope which happened to be twig
ing over t h e side of the vessel and we.
oiimbing upon deck. Apprsaohlsg hint the
Quaker meid :
" Friend, if thee wants that piece of rope .
thee may have it 1
.4 & d, suiting the action to the word, he
out off the rope, and down wont the poor
&lbw into the ocean. It is' needless tb
add, that the privateer hauled off and her
intended prise arrived safely at its port.
The whole samba; of periodicals fa this
Uldsed States hi 1775, wee 83. They now
exceed 8000.