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A.. J.. GERRITSON; PUBLISHER.
GRpVER *& -BAITER'S
CEI. E 101 A Y 1)
FAMILY SEWING MACIIi\ES.
New Stl;e.4.-PrieeN Vora S5O to 4125
EXTP.A. mu:GE OF . E*S ti Emir Its.
495 Broadway.- - rinnv York.
F. B. CHAN DLEIZ; AGENT, NIONTROSE.
These te.nArines sew front two spook, as pur
chased Trutt the store. n quiring no rewinding of
thread: the - y flan, F,ll, Gather, and Stito 'in
a superior style, finishing each seam by their own
operatic:it; a ithont r;•conrse to the handtmodle, as
is required by 0111(4 . tulehines. They will do bet.
for and cheaper sewing than a seamstress can,
even if she works for one cent as hoar, arid are,
unquegtiom.bly, the,bf. , t 111 i nFA, in the market
for fanily sewing, on account of-tin ir simplicity,
durinility.:tase of management, and adaptation
t, all varieties of family' sewing—executing
either heavy or fine4votk With equal facility, and
- without sp•ciai artinstment.
CA:ViCtICQ . Of
of tt.. it Machines,
Esc Macni±:r. (A.nr
thu umpes - tionea Superiority
the Gr..% & Bee SEW:
'ANY bog leave to respvctrully
r to lb,.
T.Est IMO LiLg
"Having. had nle of Gr.,ver & M.
cl‘ineA in my E.raily for Hearty a remand a half,
take plea-eare in commending It as every way
71,11:1 1 .lie or the for uni.ch it is designed
—Family letrir M is. Josh Cm Leat itt, wife
of avv. Editor of N. Y 111413(.11-
Alent.
• n e ,, nfess rny•-e:f u. li , htoS with your Sewing
'Nahint , , 11.. s ht•en in my family for many
011,111:1 , +. It h,~ tos.tr, ready for (July,
requiring no adjustuomt,sand is easily adapted
to every v.•:ittc sewina, La sinirk
chan•zin , the , pools 4thr,--01. - -14 to. Rlizals•tit
Striekint:d. tcifce of Rev. Dr. StrieldaLd, Editor
of N. V. Christian Ad% oe.te•
•.Ifter toin, sere-rml ge,' 6:whines,' inefer
.yonrs, on nerotint Of its siniplicily. anti the per
fect ease Nvi'Ar which it is Inanro , ed, xs Wt. I I :111
zhr streng:h cr.:l di:T...11 - 1;1JF of th, scan:. After
Snag experhsot feel eotntiotent to speak in
this manner. :in 1 to ,41::11.!ently p•eonirnend it for
ev'ery v:rit.tv E. 11.
wire of Ej i t :01 I.f I3ruoklyn Star.
".r ha VC rased Cirwer linker's Sewint;
Ma
f'r two and hive tt"tind it ill tilted
t,! il.clity .,, wirtz, froth, Cntottvie itt
~ LI- h.tve been worm Hit
ejt the of n at h he Mrh - f.irti.
t \ eitt i::.•r.:,r, at A .
1. ‘Vhlpple, r.it, of Itt,v, NVhipiiie, New
•
I. wlnz, been In (Ise in tar
tinily the pal,t v ars, a lid the ladic re.itteht
no., to , jive ti t .v tli r Lentirn,,nial.” to perfcet
rAaptedne,,s„ el! as Lbw' eNving finarititti In
the petfarmanee :In•I slew ;
- ing. - -11oLett..Noorrhen. - New - 'fork,
FL:- t,everal monilis we .havo used Grovel- &
P.2.1.t f r%; Serving machine, art.i have came to the
i+tf.r.itatdoa tit3t ryery desi're.t her Mew.
im!, - ia-a-al.ifb,";,.. ~,,,,,,,,,,,, di.rr. WOlll4 be m. , st
fortanme in o'ne of these ieliabie and
itief4tit, - .,0,1.. • fron.ttiredte-women: whose etrumi
Luca tplaiities of st , r , t i vb an 4
invalusble."-1. I.V. Morri:, damfitter of
t0..m.t.;e0. P. Morti,q:iitor of the Ho - rite Jour.
[ Ey.traet of a letter from Thiis. R. Leavitt:
ENG , ah Am...;:en- n.-mlirmaq, new TeNident io
Nv•iv, dated January 12.6,
1 .la,l a s te:.t.marlo 31r1hourn, in-1853, in
• the.to were- osee, three thousand sards of
• done with .4E, of 'Grover & Baker's Ma
• :Ip.f a 'sittLtte sr :f of that has optstood
P' , the d.,1 !1 tons seweti !,y sailors with a
needle a:A twine."
" eonid be cAlled no from his murky
mould sing. the advent of Grover &
Bilker as a, niore • beni , barit miracle of art than
was f - Vt r ulean's Smithy. — lle would denounce
midnight ittirt making the direful sprihg of
woes unnwenbereii:"—Prof. North.
"I take pledsu,re in saying, that tnallriiver E.
I.Ltker 81. wing :oi:chines hare more th.in sus
t,ined in;' expectation. After tryin , f and return.
ittgoliteis, I nave three _of atom in operation in
toc dAerent placer, and, niter four year,' tri.d,
letve nit fault to and."—J. li. Ilammontl, Sc-natto!
-of Stoiith
"My wife has had one of Grover & 111,1;pe,Fam
ilySewitig Machines for some titne,and I am satin.
tied it is one of the hest labor-saving machine's
that has been invented. I take. much p!easnre
in re; ~ 4inmeriing it to the pnblier."—J. G. Dar
six:Govern:l.r 0- To:nesse.
.-:•• It is a beautiful thing, and puts e‘'erybody
rail.) an ex - citement of gcqui humor.. Were I a
Catholic, I should insist upon Saints Grover and
Baker 'luring an eternal holiday in commeniora
ii.,o of their good deeds for humanity,"—Cassius
M. Clay. •
" I think it by far the best patent in use. This
'Machine can be.adapted from the finest cambric
to the heaviest eassimere. - It sews stronger,
taster, and mere beautifully Iban,..ar'y one can
imagine. If-mine tOuld not be replaced, money
could not buy it."—M rs. J. 11. Brown. Nashville,
Tenn. ••••.
it is speedy, reri neat,' and sinrablo in its
wiqk ;, is easily underltood and kr pt: - . in repair.
earnestly ieeommend this Machinrho all my
avynintapers and others."—Mra. M. A. Forrest,
2;l ,, raphis, Tenn..
IV*. find this Machine to cork to o\ur antis.
faction, and with pleasure recommend it to the
PI 6 43ns weiwtieee the Grover & Baker, to be
the best Sewing Miehine in use."—Deary Broth-
TeDa•
' "If need exclusively for family purposes with
ordinary ease ; . I will wager they: will last one
• three score year*, and ten,' and never' get out
of fix."—John Erakhae,'Nashrille. Te6l3.
" I have had your Ili - Chine for several weeks.
1
and am perfectly satisfied th 'the work it does
is the best and mot beauti I that ever was
made."—MaggioAimison. lyi hville,Tenn.
- •
" I use my Machine upon e ate, dressmaking.
aTid fine linen stitehing,, and- he work is admit
i-xbiv—f a r Uetter than the..bes hand-sewing, or
any .ittiermaehine t hare ere seen."--Luey B.
Thompson, Nashville. Tenn,
" I find the work the atrolgesCanui.most bean.
tiful I have ever Been. made either by hanCor
-machine, and regard tbeeGrover & Baker Ma:
< • Linu as one 9f the great6t bleseiogs to our
Avx."--NI ra. Taylor, Nashville, Tenn.'
Tr-AV - SEND FQ/1. A ClRCUl4fi.jja
1617 $42-i*tOcA
"WE 401 N OURSELVES TO NO - PARTY THAT DOES NOT CARRY THE FLAG AND BEEP STEP TO THE MUSIC OF THE UNION."
Trhe appended oration Was delivered by
Mas!er Hamilton Freeman at tlie close of
Prof., Vosbury's School at Binghamton
recently,nild was .puhli4lied in the Binghamton
paperst by rerin,ikt.ci.if several leading citizens;
of all pariieli.l
ORATION.
fIORTRAITURE OF A CITIZEN.
I. The history of :1 human life,' how humble
scove,r its sphere may be,- is fraughl. with
useful lessons. But wheu intellectual gifts
ale trained to a high developinent and devot
ed to noble purposels—when conciousenergy
spurs ambition to lofty ends, the career of the
individual becomes not only a useful theme
lof study, but a pleasing. subject of. coulerns
I elation. - With what admuation dues the
I mind recur to the pages of the past and
ponds fondly over each splendid illustration
of human greatness ! How innigirlstion de
! lights at the recital ; emulation glOWs at the
recoia.: sod pride swells in aflinitv with great
j and good deDls. Wholiads of Marathon
and envies not Miltinde_s ? Of Thermopylte
.
and dues not glorify 'Leonidas l—Who is.
familiar with the triumphs of Alexander from
I his youthful exploit of training Bucephalus
to his magidtictut conques's ; and still a
nobler gene - rm.ity to the captive family of
Darius, but enshrines him as a hero worthy
of the worlds arliniration ? Who . has fol
' lowts..l Ciesar through his splendid career,
but. p,ls hoMage to his genius, almost for
gets his fateb,ainbilion, fo rgives his usurps
tionories I is fall,nnd execrates his assassins ?
Alit{ passing over intermediate couritties,who
has not paused at the wm.drotis nehieve•
meats of {lie Corsican ad;.enturer, whose
sacrifice for the purpose of four:dingo. dynasty
was nut futile,. since' the successor of Iris
Louse now sits upon the - imperil! throne of
Charleinagne, at& guides the councils of
Europe ! And turning last to the greatest
of them till, • what heart but swells= what
pulse but thiills—what soul but ' , expands
with a sense of human dignity and importance
at the name of Washington and as
•Peace had her victories,
No less reni,:iwned th:.n war,"
:'so the same grafifioation, the.sarne generous
emulation, and certainly a holier pleasure is . :
felt in the Contetnplation of these great and
good deeds nltieh involve in their consum
rrinti4n the sacrifice of human life, but shed
; their blessing as the sun gives
. 115 warmth for
the benefit 'of mankind.
'Of thcse'inen who have held „their talent
in conscienrious srewardship,ator i so employed
them as to be able to render ;
, o the Master when ho corneth, the record is
ew Means barremlo the'honor o f h uman ity
be it said ; and it were easy to array ,name
its lustrous name until a resplendea r gslavy
.!mould challenge your : but har
ing seleyted one,honoted and esteemed where
ever he is known, as the subject a my dis
enuffe, I May not trespass upon y our ti me li e
,Ilirr ' ression Iran my theme.
For an ezatuple of those high :in i d noble
traits, those manly virtues in public and
priect, life, an I that pat i,tic devotion evbi c h
renders men Weft/Like/L/I'W/ and great—which
adores his life avid consecrates his
1- bare not a, antlered back through the wisty
shadow s of that past, - bat selected (tom the
I present lute 'not soug,ht in the
gl;tte mng rienks of war a laurel chid to be ;
'My hers, but from the quiet paths e . r,f , elYil
le`ve I - chosen one whose career may teach a
noble less ,u, and "pint a moral" for the
benefit of Ameri,mn youth !
It is the boast and glory of a landlike.ours,
that worth and honor make a men; that the
heritage of free thoughts and high aspiratiOns
is confined* to no exclusive cites ; but, mole
v.:doable than 'tall that heralds rake from
; eofiin'd clay;' iris a patent - of nobility from
GO . ; and if reverence is ever . duo front a
man to man it is when endowed with muni
, merits like-these be rises in the simple grand
!
our of his nature, spurns the tinsel_ trappings
of id-ite vanity,walks upright before his Maker.
and lives usefuily to lee fellow being. Such
att.one we should delight to honor and Ruh
1 tate, and the character of suelt a one I pro-.
I pose to linld 'tip to your consideration.
In the last year of the past century was
biro at Goshen, in Litchfield County, Con
necticut, a man whose lofty and Roman-like
character kas itnl r, sed itself upon this
whole nadon. From frozen north to Ninny
ri nth, from the shores of the Atlantic to the
broad Pacific, what freeman who reverenyes
the Colon of these S:atesr,,,who believes in the
growing destiny cr - our Country, who desires
rte leg:re:nation of 'Constitutional liberty,
and admires those great principles 4 , ,f democ
racy which Jefferson illustrated, nod Jackson
perpetuated, and which are now the only
safe foundation of our national prosperity, but
mud respect and revere rite r noble living - '
champion--Daniel S. Dickinson !
]turn to 1:13 hereditary liouors, .the son -of
1 a simple farmer, but a man of energy and
1 ' i ntelligence, who gloried in his birthright of
independence and freedom, he early' learned_
thor4 lessons which have formed, and taught,
and forlified the Democracy of the land in
their principles.
j Tire faller of Mr. Dickinson was . one of
1 those men. upon whom the pillars, of this
Republic rest'; be possessed intelligence and
energy, and was justly proud • of his calling,
and maintained through life the character of
MI upright man. He was schooled in, the
doctrine ofJefferson, and iustained through
all the vicissitudes of politics that great and
!gloriousstateiman to whom our county 1--
Flo : much indebted for its•bippiness and prof.-
peritY. To the honor of this old-time demo
crat be it said, he wassever. faithful to his
I principles, under adversity as well as is
! prosperity ;And it is related' of him that ,at
one time 4 led the Democratic Republicans'
in the town where be resided, when they
could all sit-in a single pew, at the annual I
I.lreerrian's Convention, -in the Meeting
house. .
From Poch a sire we might well, expect a'
noble son ; from such a teacher it would
seem that nothing but a patriot could come
-yet, not always is promise so richly fulfilled
as in this case, for never has ancestral worth
been more gloriously vindicated—never from
the loins of shows sturdy Filen who isustained
our - Republic .in its earlier days hire..sPrung
a nobler, scion! And he who writes the
ist9ry of this nation Hereafter, will class
Daniel S. Dickinson among these great and
glorious statesmen to - whose fame the trap-1
pings of office could add no 4iilliancv
I
. His early life was one of patient and
earnest endeavor ; he was not surrounded
by wealth or sustained by politital influence;
But fixing his ambition on high - and_ worthy
objects, he strove to attaiti them Ity honest
,labor and instructive study, and the success
which has crowned his career is an inspiring
lesson for the young men of America, In
1 1806 his family moved to what is now the
town of Guilford, in Chenango County, New
York.—llere he enjoyed only the advantages
of kcominoo school education; but true to.
that &softy -whose promp . ings he early felt,
and 'to that controling taste w hich God bad
implanted in hint; he 'devoted every leisure
• hour to literary and scientific pursuits. Ile
thus became the ripe and ready scholar,
and although he never received-the diploma •
of a College, his totsinments hive won him
distinction in many of the ft . st literary in.
aitutions of the country. At the last ecim ,
mencetnent of Hamilton College in this Stale
he received from, the faculty the honorary
degree of Doctor of Laws, and fesi men are
more noted for their acquirements in the field
of letters. His love_ of leaning is further
evinced by the fact thist while engaged in
the study of law lie was also employed
teaching in the common, and select schools
of the neighborhood, and his popularity and
success are said to have been unbounded.
In 1826• he was admitted to the bar of the
Supremo Court of the 1...5`• ate, and at once
took ' high stand in his profession. In
December IS;.11 he removed to Bingharuter,
which has ever since - been his iesidenco,and
where he immediately its:arned that pronti
ment position profeisionally, politically and
socially which he lots so honorably main
: tained arid enjoyed. To you who know him
and loye him I need indulge in no eulogy'—
nay, it may• almost seem presumptous in me
to select his name as the subject of my.diss
course; but Qd miring and respecting him as
140 in common is i , i))out all, you will fur
gibe my short comings in consideration of
the hone.ty of my purpose.
It is well known to you that Mr..Diekin ;
son lots held a lending - position at the liar
steal its polities eveetotice he gas e li. first
vote in favor of Democracy; and the high
character he has sustained has nrfvey fer one
instant been corn; r. inked by an unworthy
act or an nom:oily concession ; in the path
•-f duty he has never faltered; is public life
be has never quailed under ilkappointment
or i/sfeat ; as a politician and a statesman he
has never changed the e. great cardinal.
princil has which lie learned in the school of
Jefferson, fir the sake ether of personal ad
vantage or party expediency. Planting hie
faith on the C instil mita', he has always s . tood
proudly dein:ill in c •itscious integrity while
the petty ildferences, and unhappy disputes
of the New York I..temocrscy have surged
; and _broken atrium] him .like waves at the
foot of some tall cliff, whose base might be
uliscgsd bt . clouds, v Idle - its brow was
bathes in eternal sun-bias
In 183.8 he was elected to the State Senate
of New Yr.rk for four veers, and s rved out
his time with suchlrty and distinction
• that the Democratic party of the State
nominated him an th.ir. candidate for
Lieutenalif Governor on the same ticket with
the veteran Win. C. uck. In that cam
paign he shared the fate of his party which
by sjme mysterious dispensation of Provi
-dente was obliged to succumb before the
Is-Ltions - 'of the -hard- cider and coon skin"
alloy. At the - next election, however. he
' r.a.aived the nomination for the same office,
ill connection with his old and revered leader,
and was triumphantly erected. In December
1814 he was appointed by Governor Bouck
to the vacancy of the United States Senate
occasioned-be the resignation, of Senator
Tallmadge., and at the next meeting of the
I.6gislature he
. was elected both for the va
cancy and tie term succeeding.
Dow Senator Dickins.m bore Lis part in
the e.Carticds of the nation let the respect
and nomination with which his name is
spoken all over this broad land attest.
Neither the time, nor the occasion would per
-mit a critical review of Li, life, suffice it to
say that he was always on the side of the
Constitution and the Union ; that sectional
ism never found in him a friend; advocate or .
stripatliizer; Chet to his public speeches and
public acts he has always illustrated most
nobly the doctrine, of Washington; Jeffer
son, and Jackson ; and that whether S in the
minority, or the maj,wity he Vas never aacti
fiend principle for oue moment to personal or
party consideratitms. Shakespeare, who hiis
been justly called "the bard of all time,"
makes4fark Anthony
,boast lo his eulogy on
-the fallen Caesar,"thrice upon the Lupereat
did ho refuse' the kingly crown," and all
history to the remotest period of time will
record of oui own immortal Washington
that he had laid down power without a regrets
in the hour of victory and chose to be
.a
citizen when perhaps he might have been a
Monarch !
But among modern politician - r., whose
sellishm:ss had become proverbial it was re
served for Daniel S. Dickinson t o re f use th e
Presidency through fidelity to his friend !
There is no example in hi-tory of a more
sublime ;elf-abriporitiou The record of the
occasion on which this noble act occured is
familiar to Jou all in the proceedings of the
Democratic Convention of 1852. His con
duct nerds no comment. Henry Cley,whose
mernOry every American must rove and
revere, how much suever he'may differ with
his political sentiments, declared 'that he
-woad 'rattier be light than be Prefident."
Darriel,S. Dickinson proved Us faith. Lc .his
acts!
Since his retirement 'from the United
States Seurte be has not held public office,
but the eyes of the nation have been turned
to him in emergency ; his opinions and his
course watched with the deepest anxiety, and
the Democratic Party of the_ Union, upcin
Which as n youth I place my hopes, my con.
fidence and:my all for the future of this great
and glorious Republic, always hail bim in
trouhfous tines as the bacon" of light and
safety in the north He has ever stood firm
against the fluctuating tides of sectional
suite; ho has placed his faith.in the
tutiun as upon a rock; be _bas'refured to, he
swayed by the changing kind of popular
sentiment; but always proved himself con
stant, earnest, hopeful, brave in the defence
of the Constitution ind the Union
A man thus.fiimin bis advocacy of right
doer not always suiti the intriguing spirits of.
the day, and hence, as it natural, h%•bae
been assailed and vilifitd by time serving
tricksters whose envy sod spleen have been
excited by his big arid purereputation which
MONTROSPA., MAY 12, 1859:
they can 'lever hope to iivalr and it is but j THE SONO OF SEVENTY.
lately that the ribald tongue of one,who now L [There are few rhymes for the peruki of old
represents a Democratic district of thial3tate lollts,in the whole aegis of English poetry,•that
in congress seemed him of undue - ambit - tun; are more smoothly worded, and are imbued with
a more soothing spirit, than the tameled little
but on the ears of those wko know our patriot
and Statesman his charge must fall ionocu- poem ilroS It is one of the later productions
!l er A!ARTITII FARVHAR Thermic—and was first
mtg. The man who might bare been Presh ' 'published some dozen or fifteen years ago.l •
dent without one ilishoporab!e.o.reven doubt- :f
r I am not old—l.eannot be old
ful act en - his own part, and who turned aside
the proffered honor through an almost •
Though three spore years and ten
quixotic fidelity to his - frieVtl, could stoop to Have wasted away, like'a - tale that is told.
no unworthy arts for the purpose of self-ele- ! The lives of other men :
rattan. The record of his own career con- !I am not old ; though friends and foes
fetes his slanderer who stands baffled and
Alike hare. gone to their graver, • .
powerless for injury. He can• - never snatch . I.A a
n left me alone to my joys or my woes
ono laurel from the chaplet , lie so nobly
As a rock in the. midst of the waves •
wears. As well might ha seek with impious I
hand to - tear the glittering• diadem from
night's imperial brow, ae to -rob him of the
glories of his well-spent life
Since leaving the Senate Mr. Dickinson
has employed his time in !item . ) , and rural
vursuita, with such -.attention to general
politicsna his patriotic devotion' ;to the inter
ests of. Lis country has naturally inspired.
These, with Jim successful practice of his
profesdon now till up the measure' of his
timit: To you who ktiow him as an advocate,
a politician, and a citizen—as a man, a
neighbor and a Christian, what need that I
should indulge in extended eulogy I Go•
along your itighwayis and yoUr by-ways ;
ask of the humblest or the tprondest—mix
with Ws professional brethren at the Bar, dr
his political alsociates, or with the honest
yeomanry, the bone and sinew of our coun
try—the fame's, from whose elms heisprun b
w
-,—and you will find but one opinion, that he
is a mad honored and beloved, capable of
adorning any potition however exalted :
How appropriately to him may be applied
rho beautiful eulogy of the Latin Bard or a
temporary atatosmad:
u_____justum et tenneem proposits,rirum ;
Non eivittm didor prnea julentium.
Non volute inetnntia Tyranni, -
Diet quilit aolidar
To American youth, imbued with the
ririt of our in , t'tutions,prond of the achieve
inent.,, of tittirerices.turp, rand determined to
preserve the gloriutis heritage bequeathed
them, what, example more fruitfuL titan ',the
career ~f such a maul Ilis youthful stru - gglts
will teach iudustry and perseverance ; his
tuanho,.,l, con-fancy of pritiCiple, and the
high and pure reputation ho erijqys in the
ripe autumn of histrauseendiu,„,m all the
results of mere political emcees; may .;he well
regarded as the Most gloriotis reward of an
honorable and virtuous life.
Let the tiring generation of our entiotry,
u-pen ti born must soon devolve the destinits
of this great Republic, Which God seems to
have ordained-as the favorite. theatre of human
development, and perfectability ; when seek
ing an examplar, turtr from the low and
sordid tools of party„-from selfish ambition,
no .matter how Millions- t4e-tateiits which ac
companies it, and choose fey th"eir.metlel
statesman like this; and then, whatever may
be the shade of the political opinions they
irdopr, how much soever tlicTlimy differ on
mere questioh; of policy, of one thing we
may he assured,that the future of our country
will be safe in their hands, and 'that the
blessings. of American liberty will be perpetu
ated to the remotest generations !
11 GOING THE ENTIIIEPOIIKEIt.-01,1 Levi Al
len used to go tin peddling in his younger
days, at which bul-ne.ss be ac4rinulated vite
eortone before he was seven and twenty.
The neighbors of the borough,witere he final
ly settled, as the proprietor of a pretty large
farm, would often insinuate that Allen had
not been any too honest in gatheritig tow•ther
his riches, and such was the fact. A fellow
sinner has since revealed some of the-old roan's
youthful short-comings and over doin•rs, and
there Wars one "dodge" of his so original that
it is worth a mention. It -was this.
Whe,rever our dealer in tin wrire chanced to
put up for the night, he was pretty sure to
I make his , way to the best bed in the-house.
From this bed he Would take a bag full of feath
ers, fetching in a bag from the cart-for that
Orpose, and contrive to smuggle out the same
and get it stowed away in his "kit" before
nor one was stirring. This - proceeding, giv
. in; him several pounds of goad geese feathers
every dav,dith net a little toward swelling the
prolits of liis business, and wo are assured that
it was only one of many similar practices iu
which he indulged.
On one occasion Allen slept in a bed which
was very scanty—a diminutive bed, a bed of
few feathers, but all it contained were "live
.geese,'" and unusually good at that. The spec
1-ulative tin-ware merchant thought it would
'be rather small huisness to takeaway feathers
from a case containing so few—in short, that
his onlY - Sonsible Mode of procedure -was to.
I take the entire bed. " He accordingly rose be-
I fore the sun, and commenced shoving it out
!the rear window, alai the intention to go
down on account of "that 'ere colic.-and
stow it away before any one was - "up." But,
' as ill luck would bare it, the host had arisen,
andtwas out underthe window gathering some
light chips and fuel for the morning 11re, and
1 when !resew the bed "looming hp" in such
• an 'unnatural position,and juet, ready to fall to
! The ground, lie cried out to tbtkpedlar:
"Halloa there, stranger: What are you '(11:5-1
ingr
I The astonished "operator" saw that ho was
caught in the act, but his ready wit helped
him out. .
"Duing?" be rejoined, with a look full of
wrath, as he thrust his, head out and took a
survey of the field, "I guess BOMOzof,thes3 in
fernal bed-bugs will soon find out what I am
about—haven't slept a wink all night!"
With this, he let the bed out of the window,
and - went down to the wood-pile, from whence
he took a club, and gave the bed suet: a beat
ing therewith, as- would haVe been fatal to
any sott of "creeping thing" enscbosed there
in. He then took it back to lAA room, and
looked so honest at-breakfast, thil the host
didn't charge him but half price fdr
and took it-all in "tin." •
sear A beggar accosted a member of Par
liament, and. telling a piteous tale, said, "If
your honor does not assist me
: I. shall be com
pelled to do an act which nothing but des
peratiop could tempt me to . do," The honor;
able gentleman gave him a shilling And
walked an, but an idea struck him; so ho
called the "beggar, and asked him* what ha
bad meditated doing, "Can't you gurus,"
said, the leggy. "I should have been com
pelled to bunt for work, which nothing but
desperation could have tempted me to do.",
t Life may be tam, tie - well useful
I am not old—l cannot be 'old,
Though tottering, wrinkled, and gray;
Though my eyes a r e diw, and my marrow is cold,
Call me not old to-day. ,
FQt, early memories around me - throng,
Old times, and manner, and men,
itook behind on my journey ao long
Of three heoro miles and ten;,
look behind, and am once more young,
Buoyant, and brave, and bald,
And my heart can sing, as of yuru it sung,
Before they called me old.
I do not see her—the old wife tbere-
Shrivelled, and haggard, and gay, 1
But I leeli on her blooming, and soft, and fair,
As she was on her wedding day.
I-do not sCo you, daughters and sow.,
In the likeness of women and men, -
But I kiss you now as I kissed you once,
Sly-fond little children'then :
And, ak my own grandson rides on my knee,
Or plam!rith his hoop or kite,
I can welrfecolleCl. I was merry as he- 7 -
The bright•eyed little Wight
"Chi- not long since,—it cannot bo
long,—
Sty years so soon were spent,
Since I liras a boy, bulb straight and strong.
Yet now lam feeble and bent. -
A dream, a dream,—it is all a dream!
A !strange, and dream, good -- Rooth;
For old as I am, and old us I seem,
My- heart is full of youth;
Eye bath not seen; tongue loth not told, _
And ear bath not heard it sung,
(tow• buoyant and bold, though it seem to grow
old, -
Is the heart, for ever young;
Kyr ever young,—though lire's old age,
ll2th every nerve unstrung;
The IIEART, the ICEAAT is a heritage
That keeps the old man young! -
FIRST AND THIRD MARRIAGE.
'Tuns you see, my own Hortense, that I
must leave you. I shall proi:ithran income of
a hundred locis for your expenses. Look
lurward consnintly to my return,; and when
fortune again smfbs upon me, I !ball come
back, never again to be separated until
death,'
The weeping wife could not be comforted
It wns hard that, so soon after her, marriage,
when the world teemed so bright and gay,
and when wealth and fortune smiled so se
rent.ly' upon ter. all should be swept away,
and ~be left, liken lone widow, to protect
herself. The husband- was alme4t. &greeted
with the thought of leaving her. His heart
hnd been bound up in his beautiful Hortense.
She. had been
,his idol from bovhood-the
right dream of Li, existence; and when he
4nd attained the distinction of one of the
Merchant princes of Montreal, he married
her, and placed her in the very heart of
luxury.
3,11.11,4quces came on swift wings to the
happy pair. o,ne by one-his possessions left
him, and, worse than that, others were in
volved in his affairs, who were less- able to
lose than himself. Ile could- notlook upon
the ruin of those around him; for he had a
kind heart, and would not wrong any one
for the. world. They that lost by his
ill
fortune admitted that, M. Valentin was a .
strictly honest Rm; and that is great praise
for thbso who are injured by a man's ill luck.
People are but too apt to call it dishonesty.
There was but a single bright spot before
9f. Valentin. Australia gleamed up, warm
and golden, and with a desperation born of
love todhis wife 'and justness to his creditors,
he secretly embarked for the land of premise.
There was a nine days' wonder as to where
he bad gone, and to what purposti; and then
he died out of the thoughts of the communi
ty, Rs
.t.hcroughly as if ke - had been dead and
buried.
- The weeping Hortense removed to another
locality; the fashionable& who had strained
every nerve to get invited to the house of the
'rich merchant, never paused td ask after his
wife; and lonely and miserable, without
friends or relatives, Hortense drooped and
pined, until the beauty whieb her bustrand
had 'so praised was changed into dimneet‘
She never heard from M. Valentin. No sin
gle word bad ever cheered her solitude since
he left her. As r;onth After month dragged
its slow weight along, and no tidings-reached
her, her heart utterly sunk within her, and
,she believed him dead: What, indeed, could
she think! It was better to think go than
to believe him unmindful of her, and day
after day she watered his memory with tears
of genuine sorrow, as one sorrews - for the be
loved dead. •
She put on the deepest mourning; kep t her
room for months, and when she finally went
out again, and that only to church, her sor
-tow was written plainly in the face, which, i
it bad lost some of its beauty; was yet most
deeply interesting. So at least arought the
young Eugene Stanbury,. an Englishman of
unblemished character and prosperous busi
ness. lie saw her at church, devised some
ingenious expedient to bo intrixlireed, and
begged the pristlege of - waiting upon her.
The lady pleaded her inability to entertain
Company, the impropriety of her receiving
gentlemen, and'a thousand reasons why he
shorrhinot visit her. -s
Ile overruled them all, bcseught her to
waive all ceremony with him, to consider him
as a deeply. attached abrother y any
thing, in short,,if he might he pentitted to
see her sometimes; and Itirtease; many of
her monotonous and drekry life 4 at last (ion
-
' Once baring - reneWed the''.Wioious con.
sciousneu of.a protecting•presen4, sis*fonid
it herd to.giye it up for the ; mere punctilious
fear of what the world would. ee r y, of Ler,
Indeed, she had long sinee shaken Wall with .
the world, and parted-from it. She owed it
no favor. It bad uo right to critieise'her,con
duet:, Thus she reasoned while listening to
Eugtne'S impassioned entreaties ::that she
would lay aside her sorrow for the -.dead and
become his wife.
Still she hesitated. She truly believed in
her busband'tdeath; . Air would be not have
written !mite been living! ;Of the many
letters she had written to him, the many in
, (pities she bad instituted, no answer could
be oblained. No one knew anything of M.
Valentin. -
In an hour of more than : usual loneliness
and trouble, she whispered to herself that,
if Eugene should press his -suit anew sbe
would consent to marry him. Sbeliked him.
She was weary of her own life, caged and
oribed as she was; she longed kr freedom'
I (torn the restraint that pirierty and widow
, hood were constantly imposing upon her;
; and all these combined, operated wonderfully
in gu g enciti favor. The marriage'was strict
ly private; and half Mr. Stanbury's friends
had no suspicion that she bad ever married at
all %milt she became bis-wife.
Ira took her to a pleasant horire:, as com
fortable, if foot quite as Inxiteious, as the one
she had shared with M. Valentin; and all
that she could ask for was
_showered upon
het with generous profusion. Their dwelling,
two 8r three miles from the heart of Montreal,
WAS surrounded with trees and :flowering
shrubs of every description. Inside, there
was every comfort that a loving - heart could
suggest. The heart of- llortenie swam to
life, to love, •to happiness; and to-see her
thus rejoiced that ef her husband,
- Two years.of almost unmingled.bliss went
by; but, the third year coinmenCed---wjth
some alarm for the'health of - Eugene. Tvice
bad llottense seen him draw a hankerchief
from his lip-, which was steeped in blood ;
and often hie-nights were passed in soughing,
until nature was exhausted, and the morning
sleep found him drenched in . the terrible
sweats which so surely portend consumption.
Llortense struggled against , this new and
terrible sorrow. [t was the first time shelled
watched over one dear to 'her. It was the
first time she bad seen the effect of this in
sidious disease; and hope and fear alteinated
in her breast, until at length she hoped
against all hope, and the blow time :down
upon her aH the harder that die hiul not,
schooled herself to its approach.
It wag hard to see With parting with the
mute oidenues orhis brief happiness. Every
window where he bad sat will her, every
arbor where they had rested, every tree un
cler whose shades they had walked, or, whose
trunk he had calvecrwith her name, all re
ceived a faiewell look. ,
can I part with you, dearest !" he
asked, after his painful journey round the
rooms abd the;arden.
"Eugene No not name it," she said . ;
will break my heart."
"But you ninst-loa- r it, Hortense. I au,
not stay with you long. Thank Heaven
that I leave you above Want. Promise me,
dear, that you 'will never •leai'e this home.
Trust rue, 'I will be with you in spirit,
when my form is Mid in the earth ; ,watching,
guarding, if possible, speaking to you,"
It was his last night on earth. When the
morn brcke, his, eyes were closed in the
slumber Of death. ' •
Hortense,wandered for months about her
beautiful hoine.like perturbed spirit. There
was nothing ".that had been touched by
Eugene that. had not x sacred and solemn
value- in her eyes. The trees he : had planted,
the bow s ers he had formed, all had a meaning
for her: that none else could understand ; and
yet upon each one of those; ant) upon her
whole heart and life, seemed written "the
glory has departed!"
- It: is time to go back to the days of M.
Valentine, and see what became Of the fond
husband, the courageous adventurer. At
Ifirst, he was alniost distracted at the thought
r of parting with Hortense ; but-once the Rubi
con passed, he became more calm.
, A few years, he thought, will find them
together, 'never to part; and perhapti they
would be nil the h'itopier for the sefaration.
""-• Full of hope, he went to the mines of
Australia. Day by day he wrought. there,
enduring hardships unheard of before, but
hearing them with the courage and fortitude
of-a hero. Ever before him was the Word
Hortense. It nerved his'arrn in the rough
mines, when he struck his iron inttithe gold
giving roil ; it soothed him when he ray
burning with fever, in a rude shanty in the
mountains; his thought by dap miff hied ream
by night was still his own liortense. , --Not a
word, however, ever reached him-from her ;
and often he shuddered at the fearful pro
babilities that arose to his mind. Hortense
might be sick, suffering ; • might 'dolma him
dead or unfaithfuL; no, that could never be—
she` would have faith in him as in the sun. I
Come what would, she wont(' not be shaken
in her trust. -But as be lay in the miserable
eked which held his sick-bed, be would have
given. worlds fur oce-glance from her eye, one 1
pressure of her hand, to show that be was
not forgotten ; and as he watched the stars
overhead, shining through she crevices rof the
low roof, he thought that if Hortense. were
dead, she would appear to Mai then in his
need.
The rude minors were too intent on gain to
watch beside his ned; and many 'were the
long days and nights in which he lay un
tended. Aid came at last in the shape 6f a
child-La young boy, whose father was at
work in the mines, and whose mother sup
ported herself and child by washing. How
did little Ben Cole sit beside him, watching
evens; movement,and trying to give him ease;
or bringing water from the spring, he would
bathe — his fevered forehead with • his little
hands. A tinder-nurse, indeed, was little
Ben, and on bia'ree — every, Mr. Valeatitrmade
the lauudms happy for providing for -the
boy. .
•
.Mr. Valentine bad been richly rewarded
for his enterprise. Gold had showered in
onw him in almost fabulous profusion ; and
no he seriously thought trf_, returning home.
Somewhat enfeebled by his lateillnerts,he was
struck ; with, dismiv at beiniagain prostrated,
and to that his disorder waa the dreaded
smell-pox. That he lived jhrough this,
,was
only because his constitution was so excel
lent that even this enemy could not vauquish
it. Ile did live, but hits own mother could
not have known him , -
so deeply scarred and
disfigured had be bitiome. With hitt:first
lemming stirsiikth be se; out-fer4l4erne. Hor
tense Alimtreal wemnow, . 2 0a begintrikr
and and or his aspirations: Ode thingonly
VOLUME xvi; tkipmßEl3,
marred his joy on his' Iromairaid -
Would Hortense loco Lis scarred and dis
figured face that Waked at him'from the little
glass cabin ? Would she eridure the
long shaggy - heard 'by which le "was en•
abled.to cover a part of the deep searal
had-. taken - pa-sage in se Amerjcan,
vessel bound for New York... He ..,arrived •
safely, and the next hour saw him
.6e Ms
way to Montreal. lie bent his course to the
neighborhood where Hortense had -pro'poced -
going after his departure. Ile inquired r-erv
wfiete for Madame Valentin. No one knew '
bor. He Liinself was not 'recognized, even
when he haunted the old places of liusjuertn. -
Another name, of course, was ukoif the
familiar door; and hither he turned his steps„
to 'see, if haply some old friend of former
days might not have 'heard of her. Er',en
the name w unremembered, or preteneed
to be ; and yet the person he asked, was one -
whom he remembered as plotting zealously
to be invited to hi's-dinner parties. •
"They will remember me when they find
that kam riciingnin," said Valentin, to him- •
self, bitterly. ' „ .
He turned into. aby reel, nod saw abe ...• •
ger sitting in the sunshine. It 'was..the most
cordial, and happy face rime had . met his
gaze since he earnehack. Tlio man did not -
ask, for anyth'inu either, nor .how him the ,
whithered arm that Jiang „loosely under his
coat; and hopeless as the question leetnedihe
thought lie would ask it. • •
As he dropped money into the ragged hat.
titat lay on tke grunn4 beside the begger;,ba
eareleaily : • • • •
"Cao you tell me where Madam. Valentin
lives now, my wan !" - • • • i• ;..
.
"I (Ind -to know her - when she lived- E n
Queen street. Wgs that the one r •
It was the street where 111. Valeuthes grand
house stood;
. .
"She's gonelfrom• that house, but she did
not forget old - 3aoh, and many's- thy. penny
ehe hae given me since. glad enongh vita I
when. I tumid she Iv : lmm:wiled ngp.in.
"Married r'exelaimed M. Valentin: .
"Bless you, sir, yes; 'married- to
.Mr.'Stan
bury -hot, pour mail, he died a yearrigo."
.Do
vou know where she lives-now:lr •
"Somewhere out of town. I • don't . go .so
far now, lam old. I think ,it is...in Blooms
burg Pince, West Terrace."
To paint Mr. Kalentin's faelingityould be a
hopeless task. Hortense married, , but still
free! A painful revulsion 'took prac.i, in his
mind; and he resolVed, as all seethed to for
get Ilitn,ithat-he "iiould not yet discover him;
self. That night he vidted the neUlhborbood
of Hortenae, rei d Stanbury on. the deer,. and
managed to secure the neat-house, which
happened to be . quite empty, at'd having his
genial ailjoitting hers.—The next day he
furnished it rieb lv , brought • a number of
servants ; bought a fine cariiage and horses,
and under the name-of Ritchie, he 'settled
down to watch at his leisure the movements
of his neighbor. He chose all. his .private
rooms on that side o f the house that -over
looked hers.
The first time that he saw fi s ir_ was in the
garden. She still 166keditandsome, btu't very
sad andifen.ive. He wondered' if it.vi.ni.for
his loss, or her late husband'is ! , He soon be
carneaatisfie I tha , she lived-. a , very retired
and' quiet life; that she had , ' little' eumpanY,
and kept early hours. I t wiz 'early- spring,
but he had' plenty of flowersand fruit in the
green-house, and he sent "
some for her accept
ance with Mr. Itittihie's'complirnents. Again
and again be repeated this- gifts. and eitah
time . with a selection that marked a definite
taste.
• -•-.
Hortense was charmed with. her new neigh
bor whom shn s hml not seen. '
The flowers. had been sent several times
when he added to them it request that he
might call on the lady. She returned a
fairoral.:re answe4tand under the coverrof the
twilight hour, he found hinutelf - in. the room
of Hortense: The Emma . of his voice; filttal
her with indescribable etnotioni Jrcaus4 it
resembled That of her first husband.} but she
persuaded herself that it Must he fimety. She
found her neighbor agreelibleted attentive.
did act neglect any oppoitunity of being with
her. They Mode together, suns together, and
often, bia voice would thrill. thiough theloul.
ocHertertse, like a remembered lay hem' the
lac-off fand.
InsemiblY she was becoming iuterefted in
him. Ile had told-her much that wastrtie
ef his past life, and openly mourned 60104
being whom heaaid was lost to hinp 7r tie, did
not say be death —but Hortense arm it in
that light. Mors and more tender; grew
their intercourie, for the lady seemed_ utterly
to disregard his scatik-until she was scarcely
surprised, and certainkfmtit .offended, at re*,
ceiving an offer of.bisr.hand.
She was alone in the *odd ; she Last no
one to consult, no one wiyi had any right to
blame her for trusting to one_ of wtotu she
knew so little. It was her own. risk, ant she
accepted him ; frankly telling bun "how well
she had hived him Nho had gone from , her
sight, and promising that she would,kry
love him as well.
M. Valentine'ekult•pd greatly in thisanswer;
and came near die .uv eriug . biuwelf; but ba
had desired to delay it to n certain time, and
he checked hiMself in time.
* * * ' Or
•The •edding-day was appointed and-leverY
thing was in‘rearliness for ,the occasion. Itk
exchanging rings, lior tense loOked fixedly . at •
the one which the bridegroom gave her." If,.
was the ;rely ring which -M. Valentine had
given her at their tir.t wedding !-:-She 'feint- -
et:l on the spot, end tie began to think that,
"he had untried matters too far. H 6 bung
over her with au anxiety such as he never
known before, If she plied .by his folly, :what
would, become of him I He execrated his
scheme,: and he rePorited even with tearsthatl
he hadlicen led to pursue it.
Ilia Hortense awoke to life, awoke; to the.
new joy of hi'm pi . er! . ance, to ask his forgiveness
for-the past, and .inPpire new hopet for- alit'
future. .There had ever been an inexpliCable ,
attraction towards hint - on -her part, from
their first interview t_ and as she. confessed
thith her husband Was quite inclined to bs
satisfied, and to foigive the apperent die
reaPect whieb. befaucted She had paid to his •
memory. •
,
Ai M. Valentin predicted, the inhabitants
of Montreal as' soon as they founts out! his
•
wealib, were . happy to make his acquaint
ance, and, retnembe.red%iut at an - old friend.
With the tructstkirit of,.an hdnest man; be.
khas:liquittated- his dub's to the last farttOng . i . ..
1 and no* / with his:'stili - beantifirl wife; be is
toi"llibg -. Ihioughl.,;urope,. 4Aptiy -as soy.
couple. con - pc_ls-dbiy 1;e, on their. bridal P;our i . ,