V -,olllllftwe • • . . • • , i - • N N . . '' l , l l •• 2-1 _ • • 'clut . s 4 , e<> .ik: J. GERRiT . SoN, PI:II3LISHEit _ Gaol= & BAKER'S VELEBRATED FAMILY SEWING MACHINES. /iesvSlytes4•Prices Irons Bso is Siert. Errr.A-crtincr:or ss4'ort HEMMERS. 49 5 "Browlway - Neui York cuANDitn, AGENT, ItiONTEOSK, These machines sew from two Spools, as pur chased from the store, requiring no rewinding of thread; they Hera,' Fell, Gather, and Stitch in a superior style,-tinishing each seam by their own operation; without recourse to the handneedle, as is required by Mtge machines. They.ski fiLdolvt. ler :And cheaper sewing than s sealnkreb& Leveicifshe works for•one cent an honk:and are, unquestionably the best Machines, in he'marictst for family sewing, on aecount of their simplicity !durability, ease cf management, and adaptation Lto all 'varieties of - seseiog—esieenting either heavy or fine work with equal faeitity, suet without special ruljostmenL • As evidence of the unquestioned superiority df their Machines, the Gnol - c - r. &_•l3:tx - Er. Sate. Xti 11AertacE CpArANY beg leave to.respectfully refer to the following ' TESTIMONIALS;: n Having had• one of Grover & flakes Ma chines in my family for nearly a year and a half, take pleasure in commending it as every way reliable for the purpose for Whitlt it is deOgned - Sewing."—Mrs. Joshua Leavitt, wife •:f 'R ev. Dr. Leavitt, Editor of N. 1. Indepen dent. • 'ft I confess myself delighteti with ynir Setting Machine, which has been iii my family formany months. , Itly,s always been ready for duty, requiring no adjustment, and is easily adapted t. n . ovory striety of family 'sewing, by simply r chapchanging the spools of thread."—Jlrs. 'Elizabeth Stric I land, wife' of Rev. Dr. Strickland, Editor "oT N. i '. Christian Advdcate, ' ' .. "After trying several good machines, I prefer yours, on account of its simplicity, atui the per. tce.et ease 'with it is managed, as well as the , atrength and durability of the seam. After long experience, 1 feel competent to speak in thjs manner, and to confidently recommend it for 'every* variety of family sewing."—Mrs. Xt.. B. Spooner, wife of the Editor of Brooklyn Star. "I hive used Grover & Baker's Sewing Ma chine for two yeard„ and have found it adapted , to atl.kfnds of fmnity acting, from Cambric to Broadcloth: Garments havel,een worn oat with out the giving wayof a stitch. The Machine i. easily kept in order, and easily m,ed."—Mrs. A. ft. Whipple, wife of Rev.-Geo. Whipple, Nov Yoit. "Your Sewing Machine has been in use in my family, the past two years, and the ladies request me to give yolitheir.testimonials to its perfect adaptednees, wen as labor dying qualities in the performanCe of family and household sow. 4..".g,"—Robert !Doorman, New York. - rev several months we here used Grover & Eskers Sewing'machine, and have wane 'to the conclusion that every lady who desires her sew ine beautifully and guickty done, would be most A - fortunate in possessing, one of these retaido and indefatigable 'iron peedle-'omen,' whose corn: bined:qualities of beauty, strength and simplici, arjCinceluable."—l. W. Morris, daughter of ten. deo. P. Morris, Editor of the time Jour. [Extract of eletter rrom Thor.R. Leavitt,. L'aq., an American gentlemen, now resident: in Sydney, New South Wales; dated January 121. h, 1858.] t had a tent made in %Ahoy% in 1853, in 'which there e.-ert: ore: three thousand - yards of sowing done with one of Grover & Baker's Ma. dimes, wad a sin:l/s seam orthat :1133 outstood all the flohtde sesma.seded by sailors with, n needle and twine.". "If Homer cOnld be callcknp-from his Marty hades,. be wool:is - sing the adcent of-Grover dt- Baker as amore benignant miracle of art than was ever Vl:times smithy. He would -denounce midnight skirt•malting as 'the direful spring of woes nnnumbered."—Prof. North. I take pleasuile is that the Grover & Baker Sewing Marlines-have more assn aaa tained my expectation. After trying and return. ing others, I have three of theta in operation'in lay flitrerent places, and, after fear years' trial, haVe no. ail 1110 find ."—.1.11. Hammond, Senator of Sera Carolina. 0 )1y wife has butane of Grover &Bker's Fam ily Sewing 'Machines for Borne time,and tam satin• bed it is one of - the best. labor-saving mphines. that has been invented. Like much pleasure in recommending it to the publie."-4. G. Har ris' Governor of Tennesse. It is a beautiful thing, and ids everybody into an excitement of Good humor. Were I a Catholic; I should insist upon Saints Grover and Baker having. an eternal holiday in commemora. tion of their good deeds for humanity." * --Casains X Clay. • - • " I think it by far the best patent in, use.. This Maclaine can be adapted from the finest cambric to the heaviest eataimere: It. semi stronger, faster, and More beautifully than ary one can imagine. If mine could not be replaced, money could not buy it." . —Mrs. J. 11. Brown, &ash ville, Tenn. -"[t is speedy, very neat, and durable in its work; is easily understood and kipt in repair. I earnestly recommend this Machine to all my acquaintances and others."--31rs. - M. A. Forrest, Fenn.' "We find this Brachia° to work toper satis. faction, and with pleasure I.ecomniend it, to the public, .as we believe the Grover & Baker to be , the best Sewing Machine in use."—Deary 'Broth era, Allison* Tenn; "If used exclusively for family purposes, with Ordinary care, I will - wager they will last ope 'threescore years and ten,' and never getout of fix.”—John .Erskine, Nashville, Testi. "I base had - yew:lig:whine for several weeks, aud am perfectly aitisfieittliat - the w or k it d oes Is the best and moat. beautiful that, ever *as made."—Vaggie AiMison, Nashville, Tenn. - "I use my Machine upon coats, uressulastug, and fine linen stitching, and the work is adml rable—far better than the best hand-sewing,_ or any other machine I have ever seen."—Lucy Thompson, Nashville. Tenn. " Ilea the work the atrongett and twist beim. Ural I have ever lieen, made either by hand. or roaehge, and regard the Grover & Baker Ma. chine as one ofthe 4reitteet blesiiinge to our atz re. Tay] On; Washville, Tenn. WSPi'D Er 4,4 A CIRCULAR. Wroe4...for t4,Detpcnit. 11 -1 1 VM Co SLIM Lostr! That word is the , requiein dill that is brightt and best in our lives. "Blessings brighten as they take their !flight," and no hours Or opportunities are so precious as those we hare lost. .No friends' so dear and 'treas ured 'as those the 'grave and ,the'sods hide forever from our longing eyes. N o piasures so sweet as those we have already` drained from life's chalice. No buds of hope so live ly as those the returnless waves of time hall borne from us. - From the regions of eternal death, the rU: ined spirits send up their wail of horrible ag ony and the refrain ever is "losti lost 1!" The man grown hoary in crime, look's back, with a remorseful anguish torturing I him, npnn the-noble aspirationrcheeked, the high reso lutions broken, the confidence betrayed, the sacred trust violated, and, as lie thinks of the innocence and integrity of earlie'r years, his pate tremhling, lips utter the knelf of-departed hope and happiness;"lOst ,Our pathway may bo blooming bright with flowers, wo may poisess God's! best gifts, friends, the purest affections of 'warm, true hearts may tie lavisbecturion us. With care , Less- , steps, we may crush ont all the life from the flowers that should have gladdened right and sense with their beauty and • *a= grance. In some hour of hasty anger, we may wound the Mends we should "grapple to' our souls with hooks of steel." and the friendship of years be sacrificed toI the caprice of a motnent. Listening to the promptings of a -false pride, we mar cast aside the affee "tilsn that has unspeakably blessed us, and then how yearningly we stretch out our bands for the lost. Napoleon staked bettor, integrity, all agaiitst glory. li'in ,, doms end principalities werd in his gift, and the crowns of king., or the mitres of . prelate., were- alike , his toys. The thrones of the world trembled at the tread of his-embattled legions. Ms eagle perched uiian the hoary pyramids, bvside; the cum- Kling ruins of storied . I'bilae beyond " far Scene" and froze amid the snows of a Rus-ian a - Inter. At Austerlitz, Lodi, and Marengo " deedsa writ in gore." HO tore hit self from tinging armeof Josephine; teaching his proud heart to forget ;bow beau a thing is woman's love, and on the lone, island rack, a captive and an exile, the wild. waves sang the -requiem of fall be bad lost. • There Was a Storm on the ocean. The mad waves leaped heavenward and then dashed themselves into foam, in the very impotency of wrath, Ath wart the clouds of i why lackness the lightnings - leaped in villa flashes and, for an instant, lighted up the wild waste of waters. The sullen thunders boomed incessantly from tire black battlements of the sty. A gallant ship rode for a moment on' . the foam-crested billows. and then plunged into the 'sallies be tween—quivering as if a !ring thing in ter= Tor, it aped before the Mast. It bore the brave and the beautiful ; but, amid the raging f the - fearful tempest and the demoniac war of wind and waves, it went 'down with its pre cious freight of human beings. . At trstone universal shriek thoro rushed Louder than the loud ocean, like the crash Of echoing thunder; and Ihensll wai,hushod, Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows; but at intervals there gushed, Accompanied with a convulsive splash - , - A solitary shriek—the bubbling t-4 Of some strong swimmer in his agony." OD the land there went up from a hundred homes, shrouded in woe, the, wail of los?! lost! The bereaved wife knew that the pitiless waves alone would sower he cry of anguish. The son and brother had gone Ifecom the homestead, with proud hopes kindling the {lush of joy en his manly cheek; yet the dark seaweed' made ewinding s street for his coffinless grave. The betrothed maiden lis tened vainly for the returning footsteps of the lover ; who had gone down with the beloved name rniniing with Lis last prayer. reacefully they slept--husband, brother, loser, rig in State in old ocean's coral halls, While the cruel murderers smiled serenely in the mor row's sunlight, unheeding the LOST. - Tie 'Painter's Ettasp-t. • 3 Michael Arlielo Cerinozzi .was :a Boman painter, whit ved in the middle of the seven teenth century. Ilis clever fainting of pasto rals, markets, ' fairs and scenes of lows-life, gained him the name of Michael Angelo delle Bambocciate. Lie excelled ;especially in the painting of battles, whence be was also called Michael 4kt:lg-eh; of the Battle geld. Michael Angelo had occasion one day to paint St. John the Evangelist,bni his habit of employing ridiculous and grotesque types made it difficult for him to find a proper model, and pursuance of his . Want be walked towards Tivoli ,and called on Al gardi, one of the most famous sculptors of the - period,. to whom -he confided i his diffP culty. Giacinto 1' cried the sculptor, 'come and show. yourself.' . Giaciato wns a handsome, young man of about twerity,cytho, for some months past i had lived withy i Sigael Algardi,serving him as iomodel. . . am monger surprised, Al,gardi, that our Roman ladies prat with such fervor to the saints_turned out of your studio,' said Michael Angelo, the lad suits you, I'll make his over to you with the greatest pleasure.' Michael Angelo did not observe the singu lar expression with which Algardi ntLeredtho two tut words. 'Are you willing to-follow mel' he asked the young man. - Ara, if you'll promise ,to teach me bow to paint.' I 'I wish you better luck with the brush than with the chisel,' said Algardi. „Giacinto, the eon of Giovanni Mandl, an embroidery-designer, had hitherto manifested op desire to attain a more elevated!positiorr in art thee his.father, and if Algardii showed him but little affection, this was partly caus ed by the small advantage be bad !derived from the lessons of the , greet, sculptor. Ills conduct at the outset of his career nii,a pupil of _Michael Angelo was not very faiorable ; saes` covering -.a canvass with - caters, be examined it with scrupulous attention, and when forced to confes' s that his first trial bad not produced a master-piece, he trampled it under foot exclaiming • far 7 c27,10e.13 -• "WE JOIN TIME-INES TO NO 'PARTY -TEAT DOES NOT CADET 'TUE FLAG AND =MP STEP. TO THE MUSIC. OF Ind tiNIONj'. NEttie curToN.; 'I shall never be' a great painter ! Yet, he added„ in h Itivit voice, I must have fame or money!'. 'For the space otamontb 6iacinto neglect ed brushes and palette; to became taciturn and morose. Each morning, as soon as he had 'finished sitting for St. John, ho withdrew .to some isolated spot, and remained there till night, buried in sombre reverie*. But after one of these solitary fits, Gilt cinto reappeared in the studio with a. more Cheerful> - Countenance , and energetically commenced sketching the bead 'of a ma - ''That's not amiss, :sel - lob:1 . cl Angelo ; think I have seen. that bead some where.' 'lf you had seen it, master,' replied the young man hastily, 'you would-think this an abominikble daub' 'lon young goose?—when I was your age, also thought the madonna of my dreams far superior to those created by my brush; that was perhaps why I gave - op painting them. Follow my example." • But it was very apparent that Giscinto's vocation was to paint madonnas rather than scenes of.low-life; for regularly every Mon day, after having speniSunday in wandering about Tivoli, he rubbed out the madonna -of the preceeding week and began ..a now one instead. Soule five or six canvasses had been used in tills way, when, on Monday morning, Giacinto again abandoned the palette and relapsed into those fits of melancholy which had latterly disappeared as they had come, without apparent reason. Michael Angelo noticed this sudden change, and was alarmed by, it. In a visit ho paid to Algardi, Giacin te's name having been mentioned; he could not help saying reproachfully : 'That lad you gave me is a perfect mad man r_ 'l'e;, he'll come to a bad end shortly,'' . re plied the-sculptor. And he changed the suhject, as jibe wish ed to avoid further explaations. Itliehael Angelo then recollected the plea sure wtsich Algardi had expressed do giving up Giaciuto to him a 3 a model; coupling this remembrance with the well-known selfishness of the sculpter,who would certainly not have parsed so easily with a hid who gave Mtn satisfaction, ho became , mriouslv uneasy, and by the time he reached borne, his mind was filled with infinite apprehensions. An excla mation which he heard by chance bronchi his uneasittess to a climax, and struck terror into his soul : • 'Money money ! even if I rob or murder for it! It was Giaeinto's voice. Michael Angelo, containing himself with difficulty, went straight up to the young mqn and axid : `Giacinto, get your thing; together and leave my hcrese ibis very evening—not to return bdo you undel•staud f' master,' be answered ; and, without making any further remark, set about mak ing 'preparations for his departure. Betleetsug on Girieinto's promptsubmission nod the apparent tranquilly . with which he left the house, Michael Angelo' was more dis turbed than ever. Ile hastened to his bed room, drew out from under his bed a box, which be opened burriedly,. and ex claimed: t:Thank God!—the crime has not beep accomplished. But,' thought be, 'may it not be that, for the completion of his,crime, it is indifferent to him whether he is inside or out side the house, and that his plans are so well laid that he feels sure of success P To account for the anxiety evinced by Michael Angelo, it must be eaplaieed that he was not . used to have in his possession any large sum of Money; but it had to happened that only the week before several noblemen had sent Lim - the price of various commis sions. Our painter had not intended to -keep these monies long in his possess.l4, as he feared.. they would deprive him of his most precious treasure—his cheerfulness. But at that period, the only place in Rome in which money ceuld be safely deposited, was _the Monte-de-Pieta, to the use of which Michael Angelo felt an invincible repugnance; be was therefore awaiting some more satisfactory opportunity; when the imminence of the danger to which. he believed himself exposed, -pointed out to hint the necessity of coming to a decision, and' executing it promptly.. Ile remembered that, when returning from Algardi's, he had noticed at some ribs stance-from the main road, in a wild spot surrounded . ' by rocks, - a dark and deep cave, at sight of whiciLhe had exclaimed : `fbat's the very place for a miser to bury his ,treasure in I' His resolution was instantly taken. 'Now,' said he, putting the box under. his arm, 'let the robber come whenever he pleases,- he will find neither the man nor the money l' The box was heavy, and the distance from Rome to the cave about ten miles. It was a beautiful night; innumerable stars twinkled in the heavens; a cuul and perfumed breeze bad succeeded to the heat of the day ; it was just the time for a walk; and Michael Angelo got easily over the first three. miles. In a little time, however, heated by the exertion of walking, our traveler began to feel the air moist and heavy. • Props of perspiration oozed from his brow. ills legs felt Stiff," and he. was 'obliged to slacken his pace. In proportion as be felt tired,tbe weight of the box seemed to increase; he passed it from under one arm to the - other, and from shoulder• to shoulder, but only sue deeded in inerruisibg his sense of general fatigue. At last s 'yielding to the absolute necessityof taking rest,be threw himself down at the foot of a tree, exclaiming.: 'lf it were to save my life, I could go no further I" The night wus wearing away, the stars were paling, the rosy tint of morning was just peeping -above the horizon Michael Angelo could not remain eternally under the tree with his boi; some determination must b e arr i v ed at. Just, at the spot where be wl): sitting) the road - pasied at the foot of - a bill, halfway Op the sides of which fragments of rocks jutted out here and there, This.place appeared to him much lent secure than tbe cave he bad in slew, yet, as there Seemed nothing better to be done, be determined to bury his box there, even if he retested for it in a few days „later, when be bet entirely recoiered from fatigue. "lie therefore climb ed, and not without - ditDmilty, up .tts a sort ofseat formed naturally by a piece of rock, undei wbieb a ' with the help of hie daggei, he IMMEEEPi MONTROSE, 'PA; MAY 26, 1859. dug a hole in which he 'Placed the box; be then covered it with earth,and overall placed some tufts of grata in such a wity,asto deceive the sharpest eye. • thismidne, heTegained the highroad, and free frorn ,i hia burthen, tuined once more towards Rome: * As be left the bill; he was assailed by fresh perplexities. Ile-reflected that his labors bad no t been wholly 'concealed by the shades of night. 'Might not some unknown witness have watched his depart,re in order to pos sess himself ofan' easy - .prey II This thought came upon him as a prftsentiment; he baStily retraced 'his steps, and there, on his - krises, close to the stone which concealedhis trees ure,gazing anxiously shoat him, Was a man. It was Giacinto,,Brandi: 'I ace you, wretch!' cried Angelo. Startled by theyoice,Giaointo did noteven wait to ascertain whence it had come, hut sprang up and disappea*waa path watch led roiind the bill. • . . Michael Angelo burned to the stone; the tufts of grass were intact; nothing had been touched. - Tie breathed freely. 'The villain must have followed mo all the way from Rome, and watched rely every movement. What herrible depravity in - a young man of twenty , Michael Angelo's perplexity was 'Slow great; his exhausted strength would riot allow him to return to Rome with the boy ; 'to return without it was to bid his money an eternal farewell. What WAS to be done Y 'Otte clime seemed practicable—it was that of seating imself on the Ague, spending his day there, and at night digging up the box and endeav oring to reach the city, where he would ha-t en to lodge his money in that very Monte-di- Pieta which, only the day before, had inspir 'ad him with such insurmountable antip athy. Michael Angelo bad -already passed two hours seated uponthis stone, when he heard a slight sound- a little behind him. ills firit impulse was to spring up and seize his dag ger, but seeing only a young girl who hastily disappeared as if frightened by his menacing gesture, Michael Angelo resumed his seat. After a few minutes h‘saw the same girl .re appear on another „spot, peering cautiously throngb the bushes, and again disappearing on finding herself observed. After looking at her for a moment, be ex - - claimed : 'ity hearensGiacinto's madonna!: tlte.mystery was now completely solved ; donbtless this bill wat the 'traria of brigands, and Griacinto was Oise of them as to the madonna, bet employment was that of watching for travellers and giving. notice to the band. Michael Angelo, the dagger in his band, held himself in readiness fur whatever might happen. Once more be saw the young girl reappear, and this titiit