i i.;
. t :
r:
H B. MASSER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
OFFICE, MARKET STREET, OPPOSITE THE POST OFFICE.
"! ...' ... - ! . . - ' .... ,..(: , . --Mi.'IMr .... . .,; .,T. . r .... 'V -.v ';. "
m U R flMH' .MERI- C A N.
. , , - ag8ag.5zg3& -. .
NEW SERIES VOL. 3, NO. 13.
TERMS OF THE AMERICAN .
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ATTORNEY AT LAW,
EUXTBURV, PA.
Bu.lne.sa. tended to in the Countie. of No
hn.l..rlnd, Union. Lycom.nK ni Columbia.
liefer to I
P. . A. BovonuT, (
SomKH &. S.10UOBAIIH,
Riikolds, McrAtm Sl to.
8rtniio, 5ood & Co.,
S-Philait.
BANK NOTE TA1M-
PENNSYLVANIA.
riTt n. PHILADELPHIA
All'aolvent tKinkn I di.
r 1 ir Al SET i .
U. S. Bunk note. ! ''
All .olvent bnnk. , ral
mnsTRT.
All lvMit Imiiks a dl
CONNKCTtCUT. ..
Bank of Chuinbernliurg 1 di
Bank of Chester Cn. pur
Bank of Del. Co. Chcutcr mr
B.uikof Germautown par
B:ink of (iettvuliiira: 1 di.
All olvriit Imnk.s 3 di.
NEW VOUK.
All milvent bank.
rr?"Bk note, under $3 1 di. j
corsTRY.
All ilveiil kink. 1 dl.
NKW JKKSEV.
n..li ..1..r. ! 01.
Hank of Mlddletown I din
I4....lr n( 1.u'i.tnwn
Montcotnerv C Bunk mr
Runlf of Nortfmnilerl lid. p:"
Itmikof Pittflinrir 1 di.
..,n,:,l ll Lllk Idil
Hunk of Danville
.'arliKlA Batik
nnrlFnr. Hunk M nit Holly FJr
1 Ui F. & AI.,iMiililltl.wii i
0.mbia ll'k ft B'go Co par
.Mpclianir.' k. .-cw..i i
Mecli. Uk of linrlinv'f'il ir
.Modi. Mnn. Bit Trent mt
M .rri. r.l llllllk ! dl.
D.n-el.toVn Bank l"
:num Bank lr
Erie Bank di.i
i..l - 1VJI, Plflaltitrff I ill.
Newark Bk'ir & In.. Co 3 di.
S Hi. B.,h" 1 di Orm, Itank
Id
3 1MB
Farmer.' Bk, lai.maler "V..
Farmer.' Bk. Rending ir,halcin Bank ns C,
pur
p:ir
, armer. k. ." K , Cl) ,lilnW I ,1,.
F rb Bk Wavne .'g i . itate B,k Cumden pnr
?rfnSinBBkVa." lU Slide W'!"
MarrUhnrg Bank ifi vicl
trs-xLank,Ne-ton Jdi.
par
llMiwtn Bnnk par
Prenton Bnnkiiis Co . pnr
Merrh. Mnn. Bunk 1 di.
Minx..' B'k. Pmt.ville pe'
rnion Bank, Dover J dii
Vnnleyv'lc 4Dcl Dr Co l.li.
(7'Bk note, under 3 J di.
Monongahehi Bank I dif
Tavlnrv'e Del B'l Co IS di.
Wt Branch Bank par
Wyoming Bk, Wilkestfe pnn
York Bank, 1 ''!
ry Relief note. 1 dn
WAIVF..
Uh.l.Aw Alio.
Rank of Delaware par
ii;t.ic of Smvrua PaT
llelnware City Bnnk pnr
Hk Wlling'ne: Hrnnuyw. par
I'nrmer.' Bk Si DcUiwiirc par
rnion Bnnk. Wilmington par
ry-V inter P.V. J di.
OHIO.
AH .olvent bunk. 2di.
r-Ilk ivite. under S' 4 di.
Bank of Whellock Sdi.!
Mercantile Bk, Bangor in di
A II olvent bank. 1 dl.:
vpaV H AMPSHIRE
All anlvent Imnk. di.
VKK IHIA
Bank f St All.
All nlveiit bank.
S di. All wilveut Inuk.
Sdi.
Ait 11 Lnucr:)
SJ di.
A CALL TO HOUSEKEEPERS '
At the Cabinet Ware Uoom of
SEB'N HOUPT & CO.
Market Sauare,
Ahoal the corner of Fawn street $ the Railroad)
SUNBURY, fa.
Thankful for tlw patronage of hi. friend, and
en8tomcr during the 17 year. c ua. nee . ... .
: ..:. l.e.olirits from the pulihc aeon.
tinuance of their favor. During this pc1 he
ha. endeavored to keep up with the improvements
of th. day, and ha. accordingly extended his Im.
ness in eJiry branch and variety. The public are
therefore invited to the attention ot the present
took of
CABINET WARE AND CHAIRS,
Manufactured by
SEBASTIAN HOUPT & CO.
At ik. Old Stand
Where in addition to their former atock f the
establishment they now nianuiaciuro
Mahogany, Walnut & Cane-Seat Chairs,
Large Srme; Seat Rocking Chairs,
Dressing Bureaus, Centre Tables,
Marble Top Wash Stands,
und a variety of other
new style und
Fashionable Furniture.
Having secured a Hearse and made the necea
ary arrangements for the purpose, they are now
J . . , f .11 ita kr.in.fhM- 111
prepared lor li uueriaaiiiB " "
tin. vicinity or at any conumoii.
Ye maid, and mirtresK., aud husband, too,
Here', furniture of every .tyle and hue,
From aide board, down to kiteheii table.,
From rocking chair, to rocking cradle.
Should you not have, the ready Johk to pay,
We'll wait awhile for a brighter better day,
Or take potatoes oau, com, wheat and rye i
11. rk, hoop pok, alavea, or lumber wet and dry,
Or any thing but yoke, and threshing flails,
Fiom pigs and turkies down to Utile quails.
. Come ou then friend., eoroe one and all,
Keep trad, a moving, so "goes ou U oau -
ty Orders from a distance promptly attended
to and work of all kinds delivered with dispatdi.
Sunbury, March 9, 1850. tf
EEFOBM YOUB, HABITS.
Com. ye', with garments bare and seedy,
Y barh'lors, wido'ers and husband, too,
If, in th. outward man you'r needy,
We sooa cau make you a. good a new.
THE subscriber respectfully informs his friends
a .v.. ni,i;. thnt he will commence in tins
place, on the 8th of April next, the
TAILORING IICSIXESS
in all iU branches. He will be careful to see thut
l: .i, i m..la no in the best manner, and
he
flaU. himself, that he will
action u. 1
friend and th public generally to call and give
him a trial.
His shop U a new building in Fawn street be
low Weavers Hotel. ,.,,
, . . . JACOB a BECK.
Sunbury, March 30, 1850, 6in
.... .. EDWIN IIAXL,
(Lats or Ti Fim or Watkiso & Hah,)
,h .. JV o. H South Second Street,
. , Philadelphia,
' 13 ESPECTFULLT informs his old friends and
;,.rnrf.
atylea of
Spring & Summer Dress Goods.
His assortment consists of the latest and most deal-
table
styles of English, German, French & A me-
ncan Uuoda. Bucn as ueiainea , . issue., uerm-
M.8ilks.L.wntMu.linfc81..wl..Hdkflm(ilovea,
v.ri.1, of Dressand Fancy Good..
fk lJ. M.rrh 11. 11S0 IV
& jFamtlg ilctospaptr-Dctotrt
SELECT POETRY.
"NO."
BY ELIZA COOK.
Would you learn tho bravest thing
That man can ever do ;
Would ye be an uncrowned king,
Absolute and true 1
Would ye seek to emulate
All we learn in story,
Of the moral, just and great,
Rich in real glory 1
Would ye lose much bitter care
In your lot below ?
Bravely speak out when and where
Tis right to utter "No."
Learn to speak thisliltlo word
. In its proper place
Let no timid doubt be heard,
Clothed with skeptic grace,
Let thy lips without disguise,
Boldly pour it out j
Though a thousand dulcet lies
Keep hovering about.
Tor be sure our hearts would lose
Future years of wo,
If our courage could refuse
The present hour with "No."
When temptation's form would lead
To some pleasant wrong
When she tunes her hollow reed
To tue syren's song
When she olfers bribe anil smile,
Anil our conscience fools.
There is nnueht but shinning guile
In the gifts she deals.
Then, oh! then, let courage nsu
lo lis strongest How ,
Show that ye are brave as wise,
And firmly answer "No."
Hearts that are too often given,
Like street merchandise
Hearts that like bought slaves are
driven
In fair freedom's auise,
Ye that poison souls and mind
With perjury's ioui siains,
Ye who let tho cold world bind
In invlpss marriaiio chains,
Be true unto yourselves and God,
Let rank and fortune go ;
If love light not the aliar spot,
Let Feeling answer "No."
Men with goodly spirits blest,
Willing to ito riL'ni,
'et who stand with wavering bieast
Beneath Persuasion might,
When companions seek to taunt
Judgment into sin ;
When the loud laugh fain would daunt
Your better voice within,
Oh! be sure ye'll never meet
More insidious toe ;
But strike the coward to your leet,
By Reason's watchword, "iso.'
Ah. how many thorns we wreatne
To twine our brows around,
By not knowiug when the breuthe
I his important suunu i
Many a breast has rued tiio day
When it reckoned less
Offinilsupon the moral "Nay"
Than flowers upon the "Yes."
Many a sad repentant thought
Toms to "long ago,"
When a luckless fate was wrought
By want of saying "No."
Few have learn'd to speak this word
When it should be speken,
Resolution is deferred
Vows to virtue broken.
More of courage is required
This one word to say,
Than to stand where shots are fired
In the battle fray.
Use it fitly, and ye'll see
Many a lot below
May be schooled and nobly ruled
By power to utter "No.''
oimtrn SUctcf).
THE CITY BELLE;
OR.
SIX MONTHS IN THE COUNTRY.
BY MRS. LYDIA J. PIERSON.
i.ATv sweet Louisa, the doctor has inform'
ed your pa that be can prescribe nothing
further for you except a six months' resi
dence in the country, which, with proper
care, he says, may greatly alleviate your
symptoms. We consulted on the subject
and have concluded to write to a relation
nf mirs in Lebanon county, to know if she
can accommodate and nurse you. lour
pa and I cannot possibly leave the city at
. . n I 1 II .ml.
but Baran snail accompany uu,
anrt rip U careful and affectionate."
UlCBCtll.
"Oh. ma. how can I live six months in
t)e country away from fashion,' society,
anj elegancies of life ? And with
no other companions than the rude, igno
rant country girls ? Dear ma, I had rather
stav and die here."
This conversation toon piace unwecu
Mrs. Hnshaw and her invalid daughter, in
a.. . ... i- i u. ,1.
one of the most elegantly furnished parlors
in Philadelphia. Mrs. Henshaw was the
leader of the lashionable circle, and her
onlv child. Louisa, had been a belle from
her childhood. uut a depression oihj...
and bodily langour had for some time laid
. . I I.L I .1 k
heavily over her ; ana ner neaita uuu uc-
gun rapidly to decline. Perhaps she could
hav, -tnlained the cause of her illness, but
she did not ,ttempt it, and her aflectionate
mother determined to lay upon her country
relatives the burden of which she was so
hpartilv wparv. It was to her own bro
ther she had resolved to confide her child
He was a wealthy farmer, and lived on the
very lands on which she passea ner youin
Havine been adopted bv a wealthy, child
less aunt, she bad married the rich and ele
gant Mr. Henshaw, and had utterly forgot
ten the home and friends of her childhood,
until it became necessary to take her Louisa
to the country, and the utter impossibility
herself, awakened in
her memory the idea of a brother that was
once dear to hsr. But she spoke of bira
then only as a relation, trusting that her
I duuo-hter's pride would justify her caution
.,; , k;nrl,r ot I thnnerht of leav
- "I""" T.jVf. -A
Wg D.r nt, - .
1 f"l i'l.a. .A:ii."
to jjolfttcs, aiitraturr, flloraUti?, jFcrctcn ana Domcstfc atctes,
SUNBUKYj .NORTHUMBERLAND COUNTY. PA., SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 1830.
parations, and the invalid lady with her
maid were, sent away, with an earnest
charge to avoid damp air, damp feet, and
write if she should grow any worse.
It was the latter part of March when
they set out, but the day was exceedingly
fine. Louisa wept until the carriage was
some miles from the city, and the sun was
high in the heavens. Then she uncovered
her face and and looked out of the window
with a determination to see something hate
ful, or at least some unpleasant object.
But her eyes fell on neat white dwellings
arid fair fields, with a shade of green on
every swell, relieved by the brown ground
work, and orchard trees standing in sightly
rows, while the light winged songsters
were flashing to and fro, and filling th?
air with their sweet, chirping melody.
"How beautiful !" she cried, involuntarily.
She was already in love with the country.
Mrs. Henshaw received several brief let
ters, stating that she was contented, and
that her health was improving.
"I wonder she can be contented," A'rs.
Henshaw would exclaim "a girl like Lou
isa so genteel, so highly accomplished, so
very delicate and sensitive, to be contented
among such ignorant and unpolished peo
ple! I suppose, however, she is amused
at the wonder and admiration of the coun
try beaux and belles, and enjoys a kind of
queenly triumph among them. How must
her fine figure, magnificent costume, and
refined language and .manners contrast with
the coarseness of the young creatures
around her. I should like to see her in the
rustic church shining amongst them like n
dew spangled rose in a field of dasies. I
wonder how she gets along with the young
Greys. 1 warrant she keeps them at her
leet. tor she is a queenly girl. I snouio ue
amused to see their awkward attempts at
imitating her dress, speech and manners.
Towards the last ot Jseptemoer, imfs.
Henshaw was surprised at the receipt of a
aro-e sheet ol foolscap in the lorm 01 a let
ter from her daughter. She was just dress
ed for a sailing party, so she laid it aside
till the next morning, when witn snnury
exclamations of wonder, she broke the seal.
But how did her wonder increase as she
read.
Dear Father and Mother:
I have provided myself with this mam
moth' sheet for the purpose, and with the
intention of writing you a history of my
x months m the country.
"We shall find some amusement in this
letter," said Mrs. Henshaw to her listening
husband. "Louisa is disposed to be f'ace-
ious, I see by her commencing with father
nd mother."
It was Saturday evening when I arrived
at Mr. Gray's, and, as you will remember,
cold rain succeeded the hue weattier. 1
felt chilled and miserable, and the snug old
farm-house presented a most comfortable
appearance. As the coach drew up, the
house door opened, and a pleasant looking,
portly gentleman came out, paying to some
person within, "no, no, t can Dung ner in,
n my arms, it necessary." tie looked ra
ther surprised as I sprung from the vehicle;
be however conducted me very courteously
into .the parlor. But at the door I paused.
It was a large apartment, destitute of centre
table, piano, lounge, but there was a bright
wood fire burning on the heartn, and tne
room contained everything necessary to
comfort, and some superfluities ; for before
the fire stood a velvet cushioned chair and
loot stool, and my good Aunt Grey, with a
large snowy pillow in her hands, was wait-
nr to accommodate her invalid niece.
She looked curiously ; 1 blushed lor very
shame, while my heart overflowed toward
them for their kindness. And then the
grotesqueness ot my own position presented
tself, and while 1 pressed a hand ol eacn,
burst into a hearty ht. ol laughing, in
which my uncle joined merrily. "Girls,"
he said as soon as he could speak ; "come
and shake hands with her."
The three girls entered, and while they
matle theircompliments, he went on, "away
with the big chair ; all Louisa wants is em
ployment, air and exercise. In six week.
she will be able to run a race with the fleet
est beau in the township." He then sat
down beside me aud inquired for you both
with great kindness and solicitude, until
we were called lo tea. During the eve
ning I had leisure to observe my cousins.
They are named Mary, Ellen and Lucy.
I was struck with their beauty, ana me
propriety of every thing around them. 1
assure you, mother, they were perfectly
elegant in their homemade dresses wun
white capes and aprons. When we re
tired for the night I tound we were all to
sleep in a large chamber, with a good fire
in the small tire place, and two beds sianti
iny in onoosite corners, with wash stands
and all the etceteras. Miry the eldest sat
down by the table and opening a large
ra il '
Bible, becan to read. I followed the ex
ample of Ellen and Lucy, and sat down and
utened devotedly. When the chapter
was read, she said let us pray and we knelt
while she read devoutly some beautiful
evening prayers. I never laid down so
happy in my life before. In the morning
we arose before the sun, and when we
came down, we found aunt busy about
breakfast; and the girls got the white pails
to go and milk. I would go with them,
and though I was very mucn airaia oi tne
cows. I went into the yard, and soon grew
so bold as to put my hand on the one that
Lucy was milking, and nnany resoivea to
do as they did. I was very awkward, and
we all laughed heartily, but they said I
would soon learn. And then the funny
little calves with their innocent faces and
merry eambols oh ! how I did love them,
After an excellent breakfast we dressed lor
church. Neither of my cousins vere any
wav inferior to vour elegant Louisa. The
conffrep-ation at the church was highly re
soectable in appearance, serious and dpyout
in their demeanor, and attentive to the ser
vices. Through the week, as 1 observed
the cheerful activity of my uncle and his
family; saw the girls sweeping, scouring,
scrubbing, churning, baking, cooking, spin
ning, sewing, ki.ilting, embroidering,
sketching, pointing, and withal finding
time to read and write, I grew ashamed of
my own ignorance and helplessness, and re
solved to make myself mistress of those use
ful accomplishments. They were all busy
the whole day, and seemed to take pleasure
in their occupation. Oh! if you could see
their happy laces as they sit at work in the
evening, while uncle reads, aloud and
then if you could listen to our evening
hymns. Such singing I never heard, so
sweet, so clear, and so natural ! I declare I
forgot my ill health before I had been here
two days. There is such pleasure in gar
dening. When the girls commenced, I
put on laced boots as they did, and went to
work digging beds transplanting flowers,
sowing seeds and training shrubs. We do
not fear dew, or. run for a slight shower.
Such a garden ns we had : such variety and
abundance of flowers and vegetables, such
luxuries in the form of peas, beans and sal
ads. I flatter myself 1 am now quite a
gardener, though at first I did not know a
plant from a weed. 1 have also learned to
make cheese. Not merely to see it done,
but to perform the whole process myself.
I have become proof against damp air
and damp feet. You should see us gather
ing strawberries in the meadow, while the
grass is wet with dew, or raking hay at the
approach of a thunder cloud until the big
drops began to fall, and then running to the
house laughing, amid the bright shower.
Oh! there is no life like a country life
no pleasures like the free exercise and
pleasant labor of a farmer's family. I often
smile as I recall my impressions of country
life and country people before I came here.
1 was taught to sum up in these words all
that is degrading, ignorant and vulgar. 1
find here, on the contrary, all that is enno
bling, truly great and excellent.
What a worthless imbecile was I when I
left home. Only (it to be waited on, and
dressed at an enormous expense, and ad
mired for a season ! Now I cannot only
superintend housekeeping, but can bake
good bread, and cakes and pies, cook meats
in the most excellent manner, make butter
and cheese, and spin flax and wool. These
are such accomplishments as grace a wo
man. Call country people ignorant !
Why, there is not a farmer's child of ten
years old that might nut pity ine aepiorauie
gnorance ol a city belle. ror are tne
inds of country people infeiior in any
respect, and most of them are well cultiva-
d. Do vou remember those lovely poems,
which we so much admired in Peterson's
Magazine ? and how we wondered who
the fair author, who signed herself Ellen,
might be? U ell, it is my very little coun-
ry cousin here. Does not this settle the
rwunt as to intellect ! And men you Know
hat most ol our great men were lurmers or
farmer's sons, brought up to work until they
were sent to college. Apropos. Do you
remember the enthusiastic praise with
which the reverend professor, Dr. D.
spoke of a young Mr. Grey, a student in the
seminary. Well, that Mr. Grey was your
brother's son. I wonder vou did not en
quire him out, and invite him to your
bouse. He came home just in tne merry
ime of harvest. He is handsome, genteel,
and highly intelligent : how did he surpass
any gentleman of my former acquaintance;
and particularly that mincing, delicate Mr.
Lansons, of whom I once fancied myself
desperately enamored, and to whom was
owing in part my terrible illness. In part,
I say, for idleness ot mind and body nau a
good share in producing it. I could have
knelt down to him the first evening ol our
acquaintance, and when the next morning
he put on a linen frock and large straw mil,
and took down his sickle, I thought him, if
possible, niore captivating than before.
What comes next 1 V hy he says lie win
be a farmer, an independent, happy far
mer ; and dear parents, with your consent,
your daughter Louisa will be mistress of
his larm, his bouse and heart, uo not get
angry, dear mother, but come you and fa
ther and see how happy we are all here,
and how good. I know you will approve
my choice and bless your affectionate
daughter.
Louisa M. Henshaw.
"Ha! ha!' laughed Mr. Henshaw. 'I
agree with you wife ; there is amusement
in that letter. 1 always told you, you
would get your reward for cutting your
good brother so unmercifully. Your cher
ished only daughter, who was to marry a
titled foreigner, at least, will now become
the younger Mrs. Grey, a farmer's wife.
She shall not! indeed slie sliall not,'
... a. , .1. I I I 'II
cried JMrs. llensiiaw. mi wouiu kiu me
outright,' and she wept bilterly.
Ilut,' persisted Mr. Henshaw, Jyjtusa
will do as she pleases. Shr; is her own
mistress and our only child. And I doubt
not, will be a much happier, useful, and re-
spectaLle woman with your nephew Grey,
than as the wife, of the first lord of Eng
land. We will go and see them married.'
We will eo and take our poor deluded
child home.' sobbed the lady.
'But vou know,' said the rising gentle
man, 'the doctor ordered her to slay in the
country six months, lou surely would
not de v the doctorT i-ouisa woum cer-
taiuly die if we would take her away be'
fore the six months have expired.
Mr. and Mrs. Henshaw left town the
next day. and after a pleasant journey came
in sight of the venerable mansion with its
sheltering elms, noble orcnaros, ami exten
sive fields, in which the lady was born, and
where she sported away her childhood;
but which she bad not seen before since
she was in her fourteenth year. Now, as
she looked upon it many a tender memory
arose from every pleasant spot, and she
weDt for very tenderness, and fond regret.
Passing the orchard they saw a group of
lovely girls chatting and laughing as they
gathered the large, i:iir apples into baskets,
Scfcitcc an5 the arts, aurtculturr,
which a noble looking young man carried
and emptied into a wagon for them.
'There is our daughter and son-in-law,'
said Mr. Henshaw with assumed gravity.
'God bless them!' cried Mrs. Henshaw,
with energy. 'I have been a fool, and now
I feel that sixty years of artificial life in a
city were well exchanged with all its pride
and circumstance, for the true happiness
which that dear girl has enjoyed during her
six months in the country."
PARENTS AND CHILDREN. .
It is said that when tho mother of Wash
ington was asked how sho had formed the
character ofher son, she replied that she had
early endeavored to teach him three things:
obedience, diligence and truth. No better ad
vice can be given by any parents. Teach
your children to obey. Let it be the first
lesson. You can hardly begin loo soon. It
requires constant care to keep up the habit
of obedience, and especially to do it in such
a way as not lo break down the strength of
the child's character. Teach your children
to be diligent. The habit of being always
employed, is a great safe-guard through life,
as well as essential to the culture of almost
every virtue. Nothing can be more foolish
than an idea which parents have, that it is
not respectable to set their children to work.
Play is a good thing; innocunt recreation is
an employment, and the child may learn
early to be useful. As lo trulh, it is the one
essential thing. Let everything else bo sa
crificed rather than that. Without it, what
dependence can you place in your child 1
And be suro lo do nothing yourself which
may countenance any species of prevarica"
tion or falsehood. Yet how many parents do
leach their children the first lesson of decep
tion. TAKE t OlKAOE BOYS.
Many a lad whoso courage has quailed at
the formidable task of declaiming before his
school fellows, will take courage from the
following fact from Daniel Webster's auto
biography. It is communicated by a corres
pondent of the Independent, who states, that
while a schoolboy, under the instruction of
Dr. Btickminsler, he made a tolerable pro
gress in all branches; but there was one
thing which he could not do he could not
speak before tho school. "Many a piece
did I commit to memory and rehearse in my
own room over and over again ; Dut wnen
l he day came, when the school collected,
when my name was called, and I saw all
eyes turned upon my seat, 1 could not raise
myself from it. Sometimes the masters
frowned sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buck
minster always pressed aud entreated wilh
the most winning kindness that I would only
venture once; but I could not command
sufficient resolution, and when the occasion
was over I went home and wept bitter tears
of mortificalion." Surely this fact, so unlike
what any would imagine could have been
true, who judges by Webster's senatorial and
forensic eirorts; should encourage every mo
dest aspirant, and every teacher of tho young,
not to give over at their first unsuccessful
efforts.
A GOOD MAN'S WISH.
I freely confess to you that 1 would rather,
when I am laid low in the grave, have some
one in his manhood stand over me and say :
There lies one who was a real friend to me;
he kindly and privately warned me of dan
gers of Iho young no one knew it, but he aid
ed in time of need ; 1 owe what 1 am to him;
or 1 would rathor have some widow with
choking utterance telling her children, there
is your friend am! mine. He visited, me in
my ntiliction, he found you, mv aun, a good
employer ; und you my daughter, a happy
home in a respectable und virtuous family;
1 say I would rather that such persons should
stand ut my grave, than la have erected over
it the most beautifully sculptured monument
of Parian or Italian marble. The heart's
broken utterance of the recollections of past
kindness, and'the tears of greatful memory
shed upon tho grave, are more valuable in
my estimation, than the costliest cenotaph
ever reared." Dr. Sharp.
A Tol'CIIINC ISSTANCK OF MOTHERLY Af
FECTfoN. Mary, Countess of Orkney, was
deaf und dumb, and married in 1753 by
signs. She lived with her husband, Mur
ough, first Marquis of Thomond, who was
almoM her first cousin, at hi seat, Rostellani
on the harbor of Cork. Shortly after tho
birlh of her first child, the nurse, with con
siderablo astonishment, saw the mother cau-
tioucly approach tho audio in which the in
f.iut wun sleeping, evidently full of some
deep design. 1 he Countess, perleclly assur
ing herself that the child really slept, took
up a largo atone, w hich she had concealed
under her shawl, and to the horror of the
iiurise, who was fully impressed with an idea
of tho peculiar cuuuing and malignity of
"dummies," seized it wilh uu iutout to fling
it down vehemently. Before the nurse could
iiilerpute, the Countess had Hung the stone
not, however, as the servant had apprehend
ed, at the child, but ou the floor, where of
course il made a great noise. The child im
mediately awoke, and cried. The Countess,
who had looked wilh maternal eagerness to
the result of her experiment, fell on her
knees in a transport of joy. She had dia.
covered that ker child possessed a sense, of
which she waa wanting herself.
Poets seldom make good astronomers.
They so love the women, that they can't see
any other heavenly bodies.
Tu c present Emperor of China, Szehing,
is P years of ajje.
artutg, amuscmtntg, Sc.
RUSSIAN JUSTICE.
On the 8th March, 1794, the empress Ca
tharine II, dressed in the National costumes,
which she wore as much from coquetry as in
compliance with the distaste manifested by
the Russians for all foreign innovations, and
attended by the Princes Zoumowski and Po
temkin, had taken her place at one of the
windows of the Hermitage, under which the
royal guard and the four Regiments of Proo
bajuski, were about to defile along the quay
of the Court. When then second battalion
of this fine regiment of infantry appeared in
sight on the bridge of Troist, the princess
leaned on the balcony, and her eyes seemed
to be wandering in search of some one; then
either designedly or by an accident, she let
fall one of her gloves. A young officer,
whose eyes had been fixed in the direction of
the palace, saw the glove drop from the prin
cess' hand, and without accelerating his pace,
or breaking from the ranks, adroitly received
it on the point of his sword, pressed it to his
lips, and stealthily hid il beneath his uniform.
The princess blushed, Potemkin leaned
toward her.
"That officer," said he, in a hollow voice,
"haa become enriched by one of your gloves,
To whom, pray do you destine the other V
To you Count, if you are gal lant enough to
attach the least value to such a trifle," was
the reply.
''Give it me, then."
So saying Potemkin retired.
On tho evening ol the same day, a feldja
ger and a couple of Cossacks made their ap
pearance in Galernis, at Major Tcheghelow
ski's. The officer turned pale on beholding
them, for such visits boded no good.
"Follow me!" said the feldjager.
"Whither?"
"That's a secret."
"By whose order?"
"Look."
"Will the journey be long,"
"Perhaps."
"Allow me to take a bag of roubles and
some papers."
"Neither roubles nor papers nothing."
"Very well, sir, I will follow you," said
the major, pale wilh emotion, "but permit
me at least, to give a last embrace to my mo
ther who will awake in tears and sorrow. For
mercy's sake grant me but one single mo
ment!"
"It is impossible ! The orders are positive.
Get in."
And the iron feldjager pointed to one of
those little covered carts, called "tealeagues,"
which stand very high from the ground, and
are provided with only one wooden seat.
All resistance was vain, and would have
been punished with the utmost severity.
Seven days were spent in unspeakable suf
ferings, the major was half-dead wilh exhaus
tion, when the tealeague halted on the bor
der of an arid steppe, where here and there
weie sprinkled about twenty wretched huts,
more fit lo serve as dens for wild beasts than
as human habitations.
"This is your destination," said the feld
jager.
The major's face became livid.
"No it is not impossible ?" cried he convul
sively wringing the band of his sinister com
panion, "you cannot leave me here alone, in
this accursed spot! What have I done 1 What
is my crime? Why was' 1 carried off in this
mysterious fashion ? I am the victim of some
inconceivable some horrible error! Oh!
for pity's sake take me back t St. Peterburgh
and all 1 possess, and all that my family pos
sesses, sliall be yours."
"I cannot," answered the feldjager.
Aud then, drawing from the pocket in his
cloak, a small parcel, he presented it to Ma
jor Tcheghelowski, adding: "There is what
Gen. Potemkin bade me give you when we
parted."
The Major started; his deep emotion
caused the blood to rush to his face ; and a
fond recollection awakened the courage that
had almost failed him under so tiying a cir
cumstance, he replied, "Very well, sir; tell
Gen. Potemkin that I value hit present far
more than I dread Siberia, and that he has
given happiness enough to support me during
the period of my exile."
The feldjager bowed, cracked bis whip,
and off the vehicle flew; while the unfortu
nate exile watched its disappearance, with
much (he same feelings as the wanderer, lust
in a labrinth of catacombs, would witness
his feeble lamp flickering, and about to be
extinguished, or perceive the thread that was
to guide him back to light and life, suddenly
snapped asunder. Seventy yean passed by
seventy years were dragged thro' amidst
hardships, dangers, and privations of every
kind. Y'es, even in that iron clime, that moat
desolate latitude, years flew rapidly over the
exile's head for it is astonishing how time
seems abridged by the sameness of the life
one leads.
Chaoce at length caused ihe unhappy vic
tim lo be discovered in 1842, by an officer
under Government, who was sent on a mis
sion to Tobolsk. Having learned his story.
he caused it to be immediately reported to
Gen. Tcherenichjw. who related it forthwith
to the Emperor. The injustice had been
secret, the reparation was open and signal
The exile, now a centenarian, was taken
from the isba that he had built -vita his owq
hands In Siberia; he was brought to St,
Petersburg, and the Emperor, in the pres
ence of the twelve regiments assembled on
the place of Admiralty, addressed him in Ihe
following noble language : "Be assuied, sir,
that had I sooner knowp of your misfortunes,
they should lona since hve ceased- Remain
in St. Teiertburs : a penrton of 4,000 loubles
OLD SERIES VOL. 10, NO. 3.
is henceforth insured to you it is Russia that
gives it."
Maj. Tchelowski has religiously preset red
the uniform he wore in the eighteenth cent
tury. Notwithstanding his advanced age
nearly a hundred and seven years, he msy,
be seen walking about on the Newtki Parad
with a small figure still erect, and a mildly
serene countenance, looking with the grea test
surprise, on the changes that seventy years
have effected in society, and talking, with a
degree of enthusiasm that the snows of age
have not yet frozen, of Catharine II, ths
Prince de Ligne, Count Segur, the Alexis
Orloff, as if all these personages were stilt to
be found in the Halls of the Hermitage, or in
the garden of the Truride Palace.
On reaching the capital, his first care had
been towrite his will, It consisted of tho
following words :
"I request, as a last favor, that I mar bo
buried with the glove that will be found fas
tended to my neck by a black ribbon.
THE IMAGE OF HIS FATHER.
On the birthday of the seventh child, all
the women cams rushing to see the dear lit
tle infant, and to congratulate the happy pa
rents upon the event. Our friends anticipa
ted the visit, and instead of having the child
prepared for it, made the servant girl bring
in a sucking pig, and dressed it up in swad
dling clothes; covering up its face, wo laid
it in the place the real child should have oc
cupied, and gently approached the bed : tho
coverings were turned down, and a portion
of the face of the little griinftr was exposed.
"Bless my seul '." cried one of the ladies,
"what a remarkable child !"
"So very interesting !"
"And so good nalured !" observed tho
third as she commenced toying with it.
"And how very like," a fourth remarked,
"how very like his father!"
They were all immediately struck with
the observation, and exclaimed :
"The very image of his father !"
The flattered parent rushed out of the)
room, convulsed with laughter, leaving tho
old woman to discover their mistake.
A HOME FOR ALL.
If unto industry and worth,
But poverty pertains by right,
If to the drones belong the Earth,
Why not also the Air and Light t
To carry out the rule of wrong,
The Sun and Moon, and Stars as well
Unto the privileged belong,
River and sea, to hold or sell !
Not one, but all God's gifts should be
Held by the favored of our kind
A glorious monopoly,
Of Light and Earth and Wave and Wind!
Why should the landless wreck exist,
It heaven this goodly earth designed
But for the blest monopolist ?
Why has he taste, and sight and mind 1
If destined but to till the soil
He has no right to call his own
.If, as a hireling he must toil,
Or tenant of a haughty drone,
Why was he formed a man erect!
Made in the image of his God !
Furnished with a glorious intellect !
And soul that loathes the yoke and rod.
A drudge upon the common loam,
In all except the name, a slave !
No sacred spot to call his home !
Save in that narrow slip, the grave.
Just God ! and must it always be ?
Must millions of our race temain,
Victims of vile monopoly
The dupes and tools of Mammon's train.
COURTSHIP OF A BAS iFIX CLEROTMAH.
The Rev. John Brown of Hedington, ths
well known author of the Self-Interpreting
Bible, was a man of singular baahfulness.
In token of the truth of this statement, it
need be only stated that bis couitship lasted
seven years. Six years and a half passed
away, and the reverend gentleman had got
no further forward than he had the first six
days. This state of affairs became intolera
ble. A step in advance was to be made, and
Mr, Brown summoned all his courage for tho
deed.
'Janet,' said he, as they sat in solemn si
lence, 'we've been acquainted for sax years
an' mair, and I've never gotten a kiss yet.
D'ye think I might take one, my bonnia
girl ?'
'Just as you like John, only be becoming
and proper wi'it.'
Surely, Janet, we'll ask a blessing.'
The blessing was asked, the kiss wss ta
ken, and the worthy divine, perfectly over
powered with the blissful sensation, most
rapturously exclaimed,
Oh! woms.i, but it is gade. We'll re
turn thanks.'
Six months made the pious coupli man
and wife ; and, added his descendant, who
humorously told the tale, a happier eouplo
never spent a long and useful life.
Discontent. Discontent is a sin that is
its own punishment, and makes men torment
themselves; it makes the spirit sad tho bo
dy sick and all the enjoyments sour; it arises)
not from tho condition, but tho mind. Paul
was pontented in a prison Ahah was dis
contented in a palace; he bad all the delights
of Canaan, that pleasant land, tho wealth of
a kingdom, the pleasures oft, court, tkej
honors and powers of a throne ; yet all this)
avails him noihing without Nsboth's vineyard.
Inordinate desire exposes men to continual
veiationa, and being disposed to fret, thsf
will always find something to fret aboot-
Mathtw Henry.
r.:i!.-
Tuc corrimoneat mind is full of thoughts,
soma worthy of tho rarest ; and eould it s
them fairly it would wonder al its voaitfc.