The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, February 08, 1849, Image 1
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.