thbrb is somethiho good ix all.
In the bright bine beeves* shore ns»
■On the Ti*ntwg eerth below.
, In-tbeiheer t« of U&ofy tbst lore us,
' In tbe'&oroy psttuwpknow:
• :; Tbefe'li
riereil»«i£etWogewe4tto'riie«V
A* the gentle os,
'. Am the hloAnlhg’ flower*
n^ebo*r
is jutooring rtWid abofct, Hi,
' }
f '' fhen lot hope bo bright before ns.
Let ua taste Joy’s fountain brim,
sWdwk donds poaj gather ofw os,
And Our brightMl ureoina grow dim;
1 1 Trom W Inmort spirit! feeling
.{.There tesUU wLsngd call, ';
* ffo the heart this truth rpreajlpg.
pM’in <IUI
S&etclK
Candidate For a Sctaqlputster.
k noma u. munis.
A few years ago I chanced' to be a mem
ber of the superintending school committee,
and among the •’arioys comical cenes that
came under ray notice, I mtlst relate the fol
lowing :
Ooe afternoon, as I sal at my. desk, a wagon
rattled up into my dooryuda and in a few
moments more there cnmelWtump upon my
door. I went to see what was wanted, and
I found upon my piazza one of the most ori
ginal specimens of the genius Ypnkee that
it was ever my lot lo fall in with. 1 mean of
such Yankees as we read of, but which are
seldom seen. He stood about “six feet two,”
was rather lean, and yet giving evidence of
plenty to eat. J His dress was evidently bis
best, though the coat and hat surely came
down to him from a gentleman that had passed
away. His vest-was of a blue, homespun
cloth, short, and buttoned with brass buttons ;
his neckerchief was of checkered gingham,
while the wee bit of a dickey which had been
pulled up to sight above it, was but a more ex
tended binding of his cotton shirt. His face
was open enough, in all conscience ; and his
hair, which was of several hoes, from that of
Rax to that of a wilted bat, had been greased
thoroughly, but it would not stick down. His
boots were evidently made for wear, and were
visible half way up to the lop, the trousers
either having shrunk up or mayhap having
been made to clear the mud.
“Mornin,” ’squire,” said he in a lone ngl
unlike ihe grating in a saw mill.
“Good day,” I returned not wishing to re
peal his exact salutation, seeing it Was nearer
evening than morning.
“I kmd’a thought as how I’d come an’ git
yoou to gin me a sartiferknle, bein' as they
wanted me to have one afor 1 commence keep
in schewl in this taown ”
It was in the fall, and ns the day was cool,
1 asked the applicant to walk in, hinting to
•him first, that he could wipe his feel on the
mat. He gave his boots a wipe and then fol
lowed me to my study. He look a seat on
mv lounge deposited his hat upon the floor,
and ihen look out an old pocket-book from
.somewhere within his vest.
“Ef you’re in a hurry, ’squire, don’t know
as there’ll be any need of you’re ’zamanin 1
me, for I’ve got a saniferkate from Ihe selek
men of aour taown. I kept schewl thar last
winter; an’ you’d belter beleve 1 made the
wool fiv. Jes’ let me tell yeo ’bout that,”
he rattled on with as much assurance as man
could have, end in a tone of celf oetoom, be
yond anything 1 ever suspected from his looks,
“iou see they have got the 011-firedest ugly
set of boys over there m Perdishun Holler,
ye ever hearn tell on. Why—they licked
the schewlmaslertm’ lugged him noul of the
schewl’ouse every winter for six winters.—
By gimerky, I was mad. Sez I, jest let me
keep that schewl.”
The kommilty hearn tell on me, an' (hey
aent for me at woost. They ’zamined me,
an’ guv me a saniferkate rite orf. An’ I com
menced the schewl, sum of the big boys com
menced wonst or twist to kick up a row, but
npple-sarse an’greens. I didn’t I wollup ’em.
You never seed such a schewl as 'twas. The
folks said as hoaw there hadn’t been such a
schewel thar for forty years’
The “schewlmaster” wailed a few moments
to see i! I would express any astonishment,
but as I did not he went on.
“I’seemed’ as some of the folks down here
in Pordunk hev hearn tell hoaw I sukseeded,
and they’ve sent for me to kum an try my
hand the:.”
I remembered now to have heard Ihe agent
of tlie school in the district which was gene
ral known as Paukruk, says that he had
sen'. 10 tr\ and hire a teacher who kept n
sciiool in B , the previous winter, and
i suppose this must be the one. His fame
had only reached our town connected with
a tnrafhmg exploit, in which he had floored
some half dozen big boys,
“As I was sayin,” squire, lhar’s no need
« vour ’zamin’in’ me. Here’s the sartifir-
Kate. 1
And as he thus spoke he handed me a
soiled and crumbled paper, which I found
io ue indeed a bonaflde certificate, and
signed by two of the school committee of
h ,
“o» course you’ll give us b rekomenda
snun, squire!”
‘‘l beneve 1 must examio you a little, first,”
J ; /or J had a curiosity to see how
niurh the fellow really knew.
“VVal, ov course you ken. Bui raily,
squire, I dono but I may be a little mite
rusiy. Hain’t brushed up any lately. But
rayiher reckon yeou’ll find me some.—
Haow il you lake mel What comes first ?
‘‘Suppose we try a hit of Geography
first, said 1. A 6
“Wal, he uttered, noi quite so confident
ly as before. “Go ahead, but mind,” squire
—as I said afore, I may need a Huh. brush
ing up.
“What is the capital of this Slate 1”
asked first.
“Port—!—Let’s see—ya-as—Portland.”
“No, no,” said I. “Portland used to be,
but Augusta is now the capital,”
“Wal, naow I didn’t know that. It’s been*
changed sense 1 studied jography. How
somever, go ahead.”
“WhaMs the capital of Massachusetts ?”
“Wal,” he replied, slowly, and solemnly,
at the same lime counting his fingers, as
tho’ the solution were to be arrived at math
ematically, “naow, let me ape, that’s clean
way daown sumwhar by theoshuo. I never
was thar, but Joo Popwhack, as used to
Mil 'im—he wqs thar. By thunder, ’squire,
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Joe’d be rather astonished ef I was
a keepin schawl, wouldn’t,he.,, Vesee.Joc--
Martin, Ws name isi/hut we qi»j| fmiv Pop
whack ’cause he Used to use that word.—
But Joe doit’ 1 Kridw much, but hbwsomever
go ahead ’squire." 11
“Well,” 1 returned, feeling that he would
not enlighten me on Geography, “suppose
we try English grammar."
“Thai’s yer sort. Ye see I never look
much pains with, jography, ’cause the, mas
ter allers has n hook, an’ he can tell jest
whar all them places is. But yeou’ll find me
to hum-in ’rithmeliek, naow 1 tell ye. I’ve
devoted the most of my time to figgers, for
up in aour parts they want their boys to
cypher."
“But first,” said I, holding in the laugh
that was trying to burst out, “tell mo what
gramar is.”
Sartin,” he responded, with an energy
that led me to look for more understanding
of the mailer than I had expected, “gram
mar is the study wol’s got naouns—an’—
verbs, an’—an’ aich sorts ov things in it.—
Yer see I han’t quite forgot it yet."
“No, I see not. Can you tell me what a
noun is f”
“Wal, I’m afeared yeoure got me thar.—
But then you sec, it’ nil in the book, on’ I
ken tell when the schollars recite right.—
But yeou’ll'find me to hum in rilhmatick."
“Very well," said I, “suppose we try it.
In a piece of land ten rods long and four
rods wide, how many square rods are there.”
Mr. Spriggs, for so I call him, commen
ced to count his-fingers energetically.
“Wal,” he at length uttered slowly and
thoughtfully, “ten rod long an’ four deep.—
Guess we’d better try that by square rewt,
hadn’t we ’squire?”
“Any way you please," I replied, turning
my face towards the window, to hide the
smile I could no longer repress.
The “candidate” studied hard for some
moments, counting his fingers over and over
again, and at leng'h he broke out in a sort
of relieved tone.
“Look here, ’squire, rather think that ere’ll
come undef Ihe head ov snrveyin,” an’ ye
see I never studied that. 1 never had no,
wat-dye-call it—the thing they slick up on
three legs to look through; never could
’ford it. But naow giu us sumlhin’ of a com
mon schewl kind."
‘Well,’ said I determined to - let the fellow
answer one question if possible, ‘suppose a
bushel of corn is worth one dollar, how milch
are ten bushels worth ?”
Again he went over his fingers.
‘Yeou mean shelled corn, I ’spose,’ he
said after a while.
‘Yes,’ 1 unaworsd.
‘Cause it makes a good deal of difference,
yer see, ’beout that. Corn on the ear'll
overrun the bushel ef it’s good (or anything.
Saow the corn wo raise’ll overrun for quarts
to tho bushel. Ten bushel of ear’ll make
mor’n a bushel of shelled corn, Yer see I
should be particker to ’splnn (his to my schol
ars, ’cause ye see, ’squire, [ mean to fit ’em
for the bizziness of life. Naow a good many
schewlmasters don’t dew that, but I dew.
Ginger and Jerewsrlam, ’squire, yew ort to
see me handle big boys when they git onru
ly. 1 tell ye they don’t try it mor’n wonsl.’
I dcspnred of getting even one fair answer
from my applicant, and I concluded to drop
him.
‘Mr. Spriggs,’ said f, as politely as I
could, ‘l’m afraid you wouldn’t suit here.—
I could not give you a certificate without
overslepping the bounds of my duly.’
•Yeou don’t mean so, ’squire’ uttered the
poor fellow, in a doleful, sinking lone. —
‘Why I kep’ last winter, an’ got along fus
rale. Guess yew’d better let me try my
hand. Naow 1 tell ye, it’ll be a great dis
appointment to me. I’ve got rigged (or it.’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘But 1 ken brush up, ’squire. I told yer
I was kind o’rusty naow, but I ken over
haul these things and look ’em up.’
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘When you have
brushed up and overlooked your studies
some. I should be happy to examine you
again.’
He went away with a sad and sorrowful
countenance ; but whether he ever “brushed
up’ I do not know, for he has never since
shown himself lo me.
This may seem overdrawn, but I will just
say that the fellow did not know one bit more
than I have represented, and yet he had a
certificate, in which he was fully recom
mended as a suitable and competent teacher
of youth, and it was signed by two of the
school committee of his native town. But I
will simply add, that the writing of the cer
tificate betrayed as much ignorance of the
English grammar on the part of the commit
tee as Mr. Spriggs had displayed in his ex
amination.
Jeffehson’s Decalogue of Canons for
Observation in Practical Life:
1, Never put off till to-morrow what you
can d° to-day.
2, Never trouble another for whet .you
con do yourself.
3, Never spend your money before you
have it.
4. Never buy what you do not want be
cause it is cheap ; il will be dear to you.
5. Pride costs us more than hunger, thirst,
and cold.
0. We never repent of having eaten 100
little.
7. .Nothing is troublesome that .WS‘ do wil
lingly. • , •
8. How much pain have cost us tbeevila
which never have happened.
9. Take things always, by their smooth
handle.
10. When angry, count ten before you
speak ; if very angry, a hundred.
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WELLSBOROIF6H, TIOGA CQliWiMi, THURSDAY $OOTI?G,: TOBUAM' 21. > 1?56.
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- Franklin haS said'that he owned a consid
erable share of his success in tile to the im
pression (hade op hitp, while yet a .boy at
biome, by a passage in the book' ofjftngs
(hat those who were “diligent in business’’
should stand-in the presence of Princes. It
is : equally well known that 'Tew men were
.more industrious. It is equally well known
that, while he began bis career as a poor
boy, he lived to be an honored ambassador
at the Court of the proudest monarch in
Christendom.' He wbs'bd example therefore,
of the liberal fulfillmerit'of the text.
But he was not the only man who realized
its truth. We dont indeed if any man ever
succeeded In life Who wasnotdiligent in busi
ness. The supposed* instances to the con
trary, so often' popularly quoted, invariably
prove fallacious when rigidly examined!—
Curran, the great Irish orator, was said to
have eloquence native born ; but, on the con
trary, helms left it on record that he look
the greatest pains to perfect elocution, his
gestures, and his -knowledge of law. Burke,
the British Cicero, built up the edifice of his
fame by slow, perserving, laborious effort.—
The late Stephen Girard amassed his colos
sal fortune by assidious attention to business.
Clay, Webster, and Calhoun all worked hard.
And Napoleon the First, who way a born
genius, if ever man' was, achieved most of
what he did by hard labor, often dictating to
several secretaries at once, and. always tir
ing out every body about him.
If these great men achieved distinction
oply by their diligence in business, or even
if this, as none can deny, was the principal
cause of their success, how can those of in
ferior abilities expect to prosper unless they
follow the same example 7 He who neglects,
his business will soon find his business neg
lecting him. Ability, without industry will
not do. Men who think to succeed by doing
half a day’s work must Sooner or later gd'to
the wall. There is but one way to rise'; it
is to bo diligent, always diligent. The mer
chant who leaves his store to lake a “socia
ble drink the mechanic who ‘'slops work
to have a “blue Monday thq professional
man who goes off on parties of pleasure and
misses the chances of clients or patients call
ing—alt these either foil utterly in life at last,
as is the case in nine examples out of ton, or
fall -short of that 'complete success which
they might otherwise have obtained. The
old fable of a tortoise, who bent the hare to the
goal beconse the latter stopped so often, is re
alized 'every day and hour in life. The old
adage, “slow, but sure,” is verified continu
ally by experience. Even genius itself has
been said by no less a tbinlior than Sir James
Mackintosh to be only another name for in
dustry. Go end ask of the scores of beg
gared old men, who once prosperous, now
eat the bread ofi dependence, what it was
that ruined them! and they will answer if
honest, because we were not diligent.”
It is young men just starting out in life
who should especially lay this truth to heart.
They not foolishly suppose, because
they see the rich employers dining in fine
houses, dress expensively, doing little hard
work,"or lavishing lime and money in other
ways, that they also may do the same. If
their superiors had not been diligent in ear
ly life tffty would never have earned the
means to jive luxuriously. A'clerk is not
the head of the firm or an apprentice a mas
ter mechanic. By “diligence in business”
thousands of poor lads have risen to opulence
and come at last to hove all the leisure they
desired ; but tens of thousands, who would
not wait to enjoy life until they had won the
right to it by “diligence in business,” have
gone hopelessly down in the full meridian of
existence, like the crew of a leaky ship sink
ing in sight of a harbor, because they ale
drank and made merry when they should
have been working"at the pumps.
How tub Mouest Man was Mistaken.
—The Lowell Courier is responsible for the
following
“ In a neighboring city, at Thackeray’s
lecture, a few evenings since, a young gen
tlemen—the modest man of his sex, and no
less polite than modest, was silting in a pew
rather remote from the light. A pretty lady
sal next to him. Looking on the floor during
the lecture, he espial! what he thought was
the lady’s handkerchief, the lace trimmed
edge just visible from under her dress. Turn
ing to his pew-mate, ho gallantly whispered,
“You’ve dropped your handkerchief, mad
am !” and before she could reply, hu pro
ceeded to pick it up. Horror! He had
seized the edge of her peli— skirl, and did
not discover his mistake, until -the lop of a
gaiter boor stared him in the face,-and the
faint sound of a laugh just nipped in the bud,
by the application of the real handkerchief,
warned him of his mistake. “Phancy his
phelinks.”
Moral.—Don’t attempt to pick up any
thing with lace to it, before you knofr what
it is.”
Quite Complimentary. — A correspon
dent or (he Louisville Times says, a Tew days
since Lieutenant Governor Ford, of Ohio,
visited New York, and put up at the Astor
House. Greeley called upon him, and found
him in his room, in bed. After talking* a
short time on the general topics, Greeley
you are not quite
such a looking man'os I expected to see.”
“If you are'more disappointed in my appear
ance than 1 am in yours, 1 commiserate you,”
replied the Governor.
“Sniglefriiz. will you haye some of the
butter V’: “Thank you, marm; I belong to
the temperance society, and can't take any
thing strong.”
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A fcaaghabte ,
Ift December, 18—, we Wero traveling
through one of IheNew England towns,ln
en old'fashioned stage Coach, wilhriTfierid,
whose powers of niaking fun from thwslighi
eal cause were manifest from any passing
object that he chosyto hiiack, (t was' mid
night, arid as *we approached the' village bl
R 1 he' espied o large mansion ■ house
on the top of a small sugar-loaf hill, close
hr the road. ■ When-we arrived opposite, he
asked the driver to atop a few minutes; the,
request ,was cheerfully compiled with,-al
though we were almost freezing; but what!
trick hahad jn vieyv pone could. guess.
The fonpy gentleman .matched directly up
to the fropt door of; the mansion and knock
ed with liiscape loud eoough to awake all
the ihhabiiams. Immediately a window sash
was raised, and out popped a red night cap,
containing the head of the proprietor, who
exclaimed t
“What what is the matter? What’s
wanted at this lime of night?”
“Pardon me sir, for this intrusion ; but I
have a communication to make to you per
sonally, and as the stage is waiting impa
tiently for me, please hurry to the dopr for
one moment’s interview,”
The old gentleman's red night cop, with
its owner in a garment curtailed or its fair
proportions, were almost .immediately qi the
door, politely bowing ip the funny stranger,
who again apologized for disturbing his slum
ber and thus exposing him to the chilly
winds of a December night..
“My dear sir," interrupted Mr. Nightcap,
don’t mention it,.but pardon .me for appear
ing befoie you in the plight in which you
see me.”
“You are certainly quite excusable, and
especially as my great haste prompted this
courteous response to my call upop you.”
“Be pleased .to step into the house, as I
notice sogte ladies in the coach are attracted
by my appearance.”
“Never mind them, my dear sir. Your
finely located mansion has arrested (he at
tention of us all—it makes a truly beautiful
appearance in the bright moonlight. Speak
ing of the moon, brings to my mind (he ques
tion which has recently agitated the scien
tific world, and in which you have undoubt
edly been interested, viz : Is this luminary
inhabited, or is it not inhabited 1 The tele
scope’—
“Excuse my interruption, sir, but allow
me to get a cloak, for lam almost frozen,
and"
“Teq thousand pardons, my dear friend,
but tW stage is wailing for me, and I musi
lose noHjmo, for of alt things in this world,
time, that " '
“Allow me to remind you, sir, that you
desired to moke a communication to me. I
am now ready to receive it.”
“Ah, ma 1 How unmindful lam in the
discharge of a duty incumbent upon me, and
which has been too long protracted, 1 most
readily acknowledge.”
“Oblige me sir, by coming directly to the
communication you desire to make.”
“Again, I beg you to forgive my apparent
tardiness in doing so. The fact, my dearest
sir, which as a scientific man I felt it my
duty to divulge to you for your own benefit,
for I need not inform you ’that men endowed
with scientific attainments, nnd|”
“But, sir, [ demand,- without further de
lay, what is the important fact you desire to
communicate 1”
“It is simply this : Your house being sit
uated on the apex of a hill, with sides slo
ping sufficiently to allow water to flow there
from. I have slopped the coach this cold
night, and aroused you from your slumbers,
to apprise you of the fact that you can with
the greatest ease drain your collar from
four different directions /”
“You infernal scoundrel!” shrieked the
astonished and infuriated madman, “I'll
teach you a trick worth a dozen of this,’’ as
he seized the funny gentleman’s cane, who
had commenced a rapid retreat for the coach
—the red night-cap and abbreviated white
garment after him os fast as two spindle
shanks could carry him. But the funny gent
gained upon his pursuer, jumped into the
conch, which was at once put into full speed
up an adjoining hill, with the enraged country
gentleman, in curtailed garments fluttering
in the breeze, in cold pursuit, but whose
hot imprecations against us all was enough
tp stifle the mirth of a live Yankee.
The power and peculiarity of this preach
er’s eloquence has frequently been cited ; the
following is an instance. When he preached
before the seamen at New York he used the
following bold apostrophe in his sermon.
Well, my boys, we have a clear sky. and
are making fine headway over a smooth sea,
before a light breeze, and we shall soon lose
sight of land. But what means this sudden
lowering of the heavens, and that dark cloud
arising from beneath the western horizon ?
Hark I don’t you hear distant thunder? .Don't
you see Uhose dashes of lightning? There
is a Storm gathering I • Every man to his
duly I How the waves rise, and dash against
the ship I' The air is dark I The tempest
rages I Our masts are gone I The ship is
on her beam ends I > What next ?. f
It is said, that the unsuspecting tars, re
minded qf former perils on the deep, as if
struck by the power .of magic, prose, with
united voices, and minds and exclaimed—
Take to the long boat!
Freedom of-speech is the greatest ferrot
to tyrants, bpcausn H is.kpmelhipg thpy nan
neither coptiql nof encounter, . _ ‘ '
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(Onomi*htf»fri“wiyi nothing Itt It,•
But that charnj me orcry mingt*;—)
Utllo liny, now X know ' ‘
Why moldoiio lot tholrringloti fcrdw.
For otherwjoo—« bonnoto go— - _
Their bead* tronld frtoeae'and'thatls soT
Little waist and monstrous flonntos! r
How the sllkjßoa waves ami bouucek } >
How the hooping billows quiver
Llkoa lovcljTnaUlug river I'
, Oh wondroos watered-silken sMI ■
What whalebones in your depths most bo I
What lots of gold,—all wastofolly*
Squandered ou yqu—bright silken 1 sea I
eommmueat ion#.
V/- i s • , F or %
Is Party'Spirit Beneficial?
1 (concluded.)
IP, as we attempted to show in a previous
article, parties are necessary for free gov
ernments, and .if party-spirit is identical
with antj necessary to the qxistence of : a. par
ly, theh, as' a consequence, the liberty any
people.enjoys, is-in- proportion to the'liberty
of its parties, and the liberality of thqir spirit.
Let us glance at'the existing gdvqriim'enU for
the proof. ,6oVornments. are propcrly of
three kinds, hereditary, :mix£d-and elective.
They may be severally, represented by Bus
sin, England and America. Russia, Prussia,
Austria, Italy; France, Spain and Portugal
have no free parties whatever. What the
Kings say is law. The people have no means
to discuss their principles. They are silent,
they are slaves, serfs and beggars ; they Have
no parlies, they submit, acquiesce, cringe,
till forbearance is no longer, a virtue, then
break out into open rebellion. Hence the
fruitful aburce of terrible devastating revolu
tions. If through the influence of parties,
men may not express their wishes, they will
do it with the sword. Obedien e without ds
cussion and slavery without appeal are the
edicts of kings.
England has parties but they are limited.
And it is clearly observable that whatever of
liberty the people enjoy comes through them.
Her representative system has glaring ine
qualities ; and it cannot escape observation
that in the legislation of England, the good
of the-poor has been sacrificed to the advan
tage of the rich, and the rights of the ma
jority to the privilege of the few. The con
sequence is that -England at the present day
combines tlie extreme of fortune in her so
ciety ; and her perils and calamities are equal
to her power and her renown. The people
rely vastly more upon the Whig than the
Tory parly for a hope of equality. And it
Is working a mighty reform, earnestly and
urgently presenting the claims of the people
in opposition to the Aristocracy. Through
this means intelligence is being rapidly dif
fused j the clouds are dispersing and they be
gin to catch glimpses of their power ond po
sitlon in society. Already her prominent
men point to the United States as a model, and
it cannot be many years ere England herself
will demand an equal representative govern
menl. God hasten the day!—all that is
wanted is unrestricted party-spirit, and this
principle will diffuse liberty as the sun does
light! Look all over Europe, there’s a qua
king nnd a hum of rousing fires. The tyran
nical systems of government, which succes
sive generations.have worshipped as revelil
lions are passing away ns dreams. The dawn
of universal liberty is rising upon the earth
in splendor and in power. Kings are more
fearful of party spirit than of a legion of foes.
Louis Nnpolean.ihis moment fears the spread
of parly spirit in France more than all the
hordes of Russia.
They know full well that by banishing
parlies and the free discussion of principle,
that they surround the people with insur
mountable barriers, and build walls of sepa
ration between the people, and the great
realms of thought and intelligence. Thus
they effectually paralyze those intellectual en
ergies, which they know to be the only instru
ments for working the golden mines of truth.•
When that 2d Nero—Louis Napoleon— sub
verted the liberties of a free people, and de
stroyed the infant Republic of France, why
did he banish or behead the leading-men of
the parlies, close every (ree press, and im
prison the noble statesmen and poets? Why
did he rear the guillotine, the dungeon and
the ptison-house I Why did he impose rhose
restraints upon the freedom of thought ? Alt !
he knpw full well that party spirit, which at
ways implies a/td guarantees the largest lib,
erly, would have shaken the throne under
him, toppled dow.t) the Imperial palace about
Bis devoted head, and he 100 hung'up by the
neck like the execrable villain that he is!
Parlies find their truest expression in the
United States—because voluntary and ack
nowledged. If America ever approached
that lofty pinnacle of glory ho which the
proud imagination, and the strong hope of her
people had aspired, it was at that moment,
when the “Declaration of Independence” was
boldly announced, when the constitution was
peacefully adopted and the nation flung the
“star-spangled banner” to the breeze inscribed
with those fraternal words, “E pliiribus u
num! ' The spirit of universal liberty was
called up from the darkness and the sleep of
ages, and found in our government n uue
politic personality— more glorious than the
splendid imagination of Pluto ever pictured
or Poet eveVnung I Free speech, free thought,
and freeaclion expressed themselves naturally,
systematically in the term of parties, which
term the keystone that hinds together the nor
hie and well arch of our country
and,our constitution. Immediately the coun
try was djvjided into two parties—thjFederal
and the Republican—the one tendjng to limit,
the other to extend the pp>ver of the people.
These ate the parties that have successfully
mo v 9d.ai)d : controlled oar nation, with her
[ vast interests till the present lime. Tbereja
' hiVe ttb distldguhtiing fchdractenstid.—That
wKicß make* ooeffetfuie cisebtiallf differeri'i
•from anothpr,:is the radical and flindamCotal
?hvcb ■ Add
.thia or, bad, unifts, in*
.organization as com*
plerely and forcibly as the mind of man moves
(he J body. ‘ We havd-but (o refer id the fexikl*
iog; partied lo obsbrvo the piNicli&il applica
(liooof lhis theoryi: Take: the t*<r foremost
pf the .times.. ... The.; party has
bold|y ? ppepljf aod. tbproughly espoused the
cause of; “rteoerj(’ r The lately organized
rt ße^bblica’n , * da 1 heartily espouse the
cause of ‘‘/iSertyf’*' -la'it hbt evident that the
spirit tkbieh arausiesahe boa is-totally dissim*
liar from that whiefaanimates ihe otherl The
characteristic of each therefore is, as>it should
bd, dit(inctive, Were not this the case neb
tfaer could have aby definife aim, but *ll would
..meager into on?, and; that one a wild, chaoiio
aimless, useless thing.
. Parly spirit-beneficial I Is it not enough
that.our government exitta through its influ
ence! Yetfurther, it sustains the liberty of
the press. It called into action the unrivalled
system of the elective franchise; and-what a
rill of patriotism stirs the heart of every
(American as he goes to the polls and deposits
Ilia • omnipotent vote, feeling (bat he has a
land and a voice in-guiding the destiuiea of
its country! It praqlically proclaims the
sovereignty of the people—rihe sublimes! re*
alizalioo of human glory i It allows every
man to worship God as his own-conscience
dictates I Finally it gives us all the blessings
5 of liberty—innumerable as the stars of hca*
ven 1 H. B. ENSWORTH,
r-’dV
lb* , r
v.'. n.v " -/. *
i :«n
' NO/30.
Hints to Housekeepers.
The attractiveness of a room does'pot de
pend on.ihe richness or expense of ilf furni
ture, but on the taste which selects and ar
ranges it. A city parlor is no model lor one
in the country. That which is suitable for
one may be entirely inappropriate to the oth
er. Elegant furniture, rich curlainsj showy
mirrors, and velvet carpets belong,io those
who have nothing pleasant to look upon
without the walls of their dwelling! but in
the country far more simplicity is desirable,
apd in belter taste. Ido not like a prolu
sion of gilding anywhere. It always has a
tawdry and vulgar look, but in a country
house it is shocking.
. There should be a correspondence in the
furniture of a room,-'. People who have nev
er thought of this, would be surprised at the
beautiful effect of .harmony in color that can
be secured by proper attention. They are
pleased, but they do not know why they are
pleased. 1 well recollect the impression mads
upon my mind years ago by a simple parlor
furnished in the most economical style. The
wood-work was painted cream color. The
paper was of a small figure, .buff and while.
There was a sofa in the room. The chairs
had mahogany-colored frames and cane
seats. There were various other seals made
of soap-boxes and shoe-boxes, covered .with
brown and buff striped furniture calico. The
effect was exceedingly pleasing.
“What a pretty room this is,” was the ex
clamation of almost every visitor. There
were but two colors in the room, allho’ there
■ were various shades of them, brown and
buff. These afforded an agreeable contrast,
and harmonized admirably together.
Another room has often pleased me, where
the furniture is all bird’s e)e maple. Instead
of n stuffed sofa, there is a cane sealed-omv
similar to the chairs. A hair cloth sofa rrmy""
be comfortable, but where it affords a vio
lent contrast to chairs and tables, it is not
so pretty ns something more simple. Da
mask and plush I do nBt consider at all de
sirable in most country bouses. Where
tbero are curtains, they should be of a color
which either corresponds with, or contrasts
well with the carpet and paper.
Furniture' should’ not be stationed in a
row against the wall, as if drawn up in mil
itary order, but should bo placed where they
would most naturally and sociably be used.
No particular directions can be given about
these things, for each individual’s taste must
preside in her own house ; but hints we of
ten find, to be of value to us.— American
Agriculturist.
Tub Slippery’ Customer.—The following
anecdote is related of the Emperor Alexander
I. of Russia:—Most of the houses in Peters
burg are provided with two doors—a circum
stace that, unfortunately for the isvotchik
(Rusian hackney-coachmen,) furnishes man
cats sujets with the opportunity of bilking
them of their fare. Whilst a poor isvotchik,
with his humble equipage waits patiently at
one door, the customer often walks quietly out
at the other. The Emperor, in the course of
his. incognito excursions, occasionally en
gaged one of the above named modest vehicles.
He one day ordered on isvotchik to driVo him
to the palace, and; on alighting, desired him to
stop on instant, adding, that his fare should be
sent to him. "No, no,” replied coachee,
“ I’m up to that trick ; I’ve driven many, a
grand gentleman to this same place, and never
seen a sight of him again. Just try your
pockets, will ye, and see if you can’t find my
fare at the bottom?” “I postively have no
money,” replied the Emperor; “but stay—
here is my cloak, which I leave in pledge with
you.” “I’m satisfied," said the isvotchik ;
“1 see it’s new, and therefore you’ll be in a
hurry to redeem it.” The Emperor laughed
heartily, and disappeared. In a few minutes
a valei-de-chambre of the court was sent to
demand "His Majesty’s cloak,” and at tho
same lime 4 presented a hundred rubles to the
amazed isvotchik, to make up for the losses
ho might have previously sustained. Coachee
retired in the utmost consternaton at the idea
of having mistaken the “Emperor of all the
Russians” for a slippery customer.
Joe and Hal were at an evening parly, and
walked to a window opening to a balcony.
1 Miss Smitherings is very Jbenutiful, is she
not,'said Hal, in commenting bn the company,
but with out taking the precaution lo look into
the balcony.
‘Very handsome—but has she any brains V
, ‘ Nary brain 1 " sighed Hal, as he deeply te.
.gretted the deficiency.
•» A scream and a fall on the outside of'the
balcony—Miss Smitherings had heard apd
fainted. None of the.company except Joe
and Hal ever kuew «Hv. ' '