The agitator. (Wellsborough, Tioga County, Pa.) 1854-1865, January 21, 1858, Image 1

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    Terms of Publication. I
THE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub- j
I,shed every Thursday Morning, and mailed lo sub
bribers at the very reasonable price of One;Dol-
Itlsintepd- -
ed to notify every subscriber when tbe icra} for
which he has paid shall have expired, by the stamp
-“Time Out,” on the margin of the last paper.
The paper willlhen be slopped untila further re
mittance be received. By this arrangement no man
can be brought in
The Agitato* is the Official xaperof the Coon
w iih a large and stoadiiy increasing cirenktion
reLshing into nearly every .neighborhood in-the ,
County It is seal free of postage to any Post-office
within the county limits, and to those living within
the limits, hut whose most convenient postoffice may
be in an adjoining County.
Business Cards, not exceeding. 5 lines, paper in
cluded, $1 per year.
How I Game to be Oaizied.
I: is notorious (bat Bachelors, like Jews
are a persecuted race. Their roost active
persecutors (I speak of the bachelors —I am
a persecutor of the Jews myself) are those
who are bound in the bonds of wedlock, and
who will persist that everybody shall be “both
almost and altogether such as they are,” in-'
eluding “these bonds.” 1 was a victim of
this persecution for I dare not say how many
years, and for a long, lime was the special,
care of a society instituted in Connecticut (my
native State) 1 fat the “conversion -and coup
ling of single men and women.”
It was plain from the beginoisg.thal I sfao’d
have to give io. I was a marked man.—.
Stephen Pearl Andrews could not have saved
me. But I fought long and manfully against
my fate, and fell at last under circumstances
which it was impossible to resist. Let the
reader judge.
During the long period of my single life
my most intimate companion, was a young
man by the name of Diggs, who was one ol
my classmates in college. Now, if any one"
of an anlelhetical turn ol mind will describe
a character the exact opposite of what is
called a fast man, be will describe my friend
Driggs to the life. He was the slowest man
in the world—slow-in thought, slow in speech,
slow in gait, slow in everything but.eating,
drinking and paying his scot. But though
slow, he was sure: Whatever he undertook
he accomplished. You could no more move
him than you could move a mountain ; but
he would move you, or anybody or anything
at will. How he did it nobody knew, but
there was no resisting him. He asked noth
ing and got everything. He came upon you
when he had an object to gain (as he gene
rally had) unawares, and without observa*.
lion, and moved steadily on, as though drawn
by a million or two snails, who couldn't be
hurried on any account whatever; but on the
other hand, he couldn't be slopped, and car
ried everything along with him. One day
he resolved to merry. He went to a form
house, told the farmer that he wanted his
daughter, told the same thing io the course of
conversation to the daughter herself, and the
next week came in a one horse chaise, took
the young woman to church, and got the min
ister after sermon, to marry him to her,
which, of course the minister did without ask
ing a question ; he would as soon have ques
tioned his off-deacon.
As Driggs “never told his love,” or any
thing else for that matter, his friends found
out that he was married by reading the an
nouncement in that beatific corner of a village
newspaper, decorated (very appropriately)
with a transfixed heart. None of us were
surprised, for nothing that he could have done
would have surprised anybody. We all tho’l
that we should like to have seen the court
ship. He managed the matter in his own
way. Ha didn’t “pop” the question like an
impulsive lover, but propounded it like a cool
headed lawyer; and the poor girl doubtless
said “Yes,” because no mortal could have
met that stolid face of his with a “No,” and
the one and a half (I repudiate the idea of
the equality of the sexes) were forthwith
made one—and that one, Joseph Driggs,
Now Driggs had an affection for me, and
a devotion which nothing could shake—not
even silting up with me a fprlnight when I
had ihe chills and fever. It was his firm be
lief that I couldn’t take para of myself, and.
that he was my special providence. He was
resolved, therefore, whatever happened, to
"put me through”— not that he ever used so
fast an expression, but that was his idea to
put me through. Being the exact opposite of
himself, he look, or, as Fanny Kemble would
say, cottoned to me. He was the best schol
ar in our class, and helped me through all my
troubles, though in such a droll way as to
make me half suspect that I was helping him;
m fact, 1 got the credit of so doing, though !
don’t now remember ever having helped” me
in any other way except through an occasion,
a! dinner. And having seen me safely thro’
college, he determined to see me safely thro’
life. Indeed, I found out the other day, that
.he had actually secured a place for me at
Greenwood, and had composed my epitaph !
Now, a part of his plitn, it seems, was that
I should marry ; but understanding the weak
point in my character, he knew very well
that I should never fall in love with any wo
man whom I was at all likely to obtain,
though he gave full credit to my sensitiveness
(another weak point) to female charms. Un
fortunately, I had always found those women
most charming who were married, or, at any
rate, engaged. The question was, how to 6b
j-iaie this difficulty, for marry I must, if I had
to be chloroformed into it. ft is needless to
»ay that this resolution on the part of my
W , as J nel ' er even suspected by myself,
e se he had surely been foiled, and Miss
fish r ?° ,ced ia lhe name ° r Mrs - Craw
jnn ‘, n " rdal > 'hough he was always speak
ju 3.j . e m y future, he never once a,I
subiect r ar a ,a 5 e - °l" le n led him up to the
of it -t U h ,®. dldn ’ 1 a PP® or 10 like the look
iust 'h?™*!!-‘ k , e - ,eadln S a horse 'hat had
glance at - drmkln S. 10 a spring; he would
turn hi, l ’ P I US I r ° r a momen, < and then
like that \° n ° ead round at me * ( ver y horse*
; you are I” 05 n ’ Uc! ‘ 33 10 “ How stu P id
f set of'’ abou * s ' x months after Driggs had
1 m am S lehe “ 1 should follow, I
arm and' n , B , road * a JV with a lady on each
•team t Ug fo ' a " th e world like a
little yachts ?.v° W . ed J OWn s,ream by tvro
•elf, isevidemt I, acbl No ’ 1 >” said * lO my '
did woman sbn Mr9 ’ Dri SS 9 - What a splen
ls. to be sure ! What luck
could She h 6 have in lhis world ! What
2 I did?, InV ‘"D'igg B Yacht No.
cut aor c h hkfs> I approved neither her
aor rig, she looked too much like a
THE \(ilH TttH.
gifroug to tpe Sgytenaiw ot ist &vtn of ifmOom of©eaxtfjg
■Waits TREES SHALL BE A WRONG UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ Man’s INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATIOIT *U9T CONTINUE.
YOL. IV.
smack. I had just got this ridiculous idea of
the smack in my head when if . came full up
to the parly, and hailing Briggs, asked him
where he was bound, and (s'ottocaee)bo» he
happened to be under such charming convoy ?
The result was an immediate introduction
all round, one of the ladies turning out as . I
hod supposed, lo be my friend’s wife, and (he
other her sister —Miss Thorp.
- “Will you join os?” said-Ditggs; “we are
going to take an ica cream?’’
Nothing of course .would ■ give me greater
pleasure-; so I offered my arm at once to Miss
Thorp -fjbough not whhonta look at her sis
ter which said plainly enough that I bad no
choice in *htrmalter,-else, etd.,) aad ima few
■moments wo'were tat Maitlaird's,-where we
spent nearly an hour—my friend Driggs in
such unusual spirits that twice ha positively
smiled, and I the unhappiest and awkwardest
of mortals. The only moment I enjoyed
was that spent in congratulating my old class
mate, and consequently complimenting his
wife, who looked—well, if 1 must say it,
looked divinely. "But my chief attention bad
to be paid to Miss Thorp, whom I decided at
once to be very pen, very homdly, very mat
ter of fact, and in a word, (under the circum
stances,) a great bore. • Still, f deported my
self gallantly to her, spilled but one spoonful
of cream upon her dress,, and doubtless gave
her the idea thsl she had made a most favor
able impression. Ice cream finished, conver
sation run out, and the hour growing late, we
separated, and Driggs invited mo to come
the next day and dine with him, the invitation
being cordially seconded and thirded by the
ladies.
Now, was ever a man in such a fix I I
was positively in love with Mrs. Driggs! In
love with my friend’s wife! I had never seen
a woman who came so near to my ideal.—
She had all the bloom of the country and all
the grace of the city. She was intelligent,
refined, and (1 had no doubt) accomplished.
Her hands, to be sure, were rather large, but
their whiteness was ravishing. • And then
what a neck, and what teeth! Such expres
sion too ! Her smile, instead of being con
fined to her lips, reached to her verjl eyes;
indeed, eye and lip, cheek and brow, all con
tributed their part to it; and when it gre ( w
more and more animated, until at lasi it broke
out into a clear ringing laugh, why it seemed
as if her happy soul, no longer able to con
tain itself, had broken loose and flooded her
whole countenance!
As for Miss Thorp, I hardly gave her a
thought. I really had not noticed her enough
to know Ihe color of her eyes. I don’t be
lieve I looked her fair in the face the whole
evening. The idea that she was single, per
haps free, and that possibly my friend Driggs
imagined she would “do for me,” prevented
my taking the least interest in her. The
only feeling I had in respect to her was that
she ought to have been Mrs. Driggs, and that
Mrs, Driggs ought to have been Mrs. Craw
fish ; and I pitched into Ihe Fates that it was
not so. What right had Driggs, a slow, dull,
unromantic creature, to up and marry an an
gelic, seraphic being like Kate Thorp ! Who
would dare to talk to me after this about
matches being made in Heaven 1 '
Twice I wrote a note to my friend, pretend
ing that circumstances —“circumstances over
which I had no control” would deprive me of
the pleasure of dining with him, but in neith
er instance had the resolution to send it. —
The fact is I was conscience stricken. Sup
pose a second sight of Mrs. Diggs should
make me love her still more—should “feed
my guilty passion,” as thq jjovelists say.— :
But was it my fault that 1 loved her the mo
ment I saw her 1 Again, if I am so made
that a certain combination of feature, a cer
tain air, a certain feminine make up, in fine,
a certain style of woman, set my heart on
fire, am Ito blame for it ? To all which con
science replied, “Fool that you are, do you
not know that you love that womans only be
cause she is another’s! That il she were
single and attainable you would not perhaps,
deign to look at her! That, in truth, her
beauty had nothing to do with the matt-r,
and you ought to cure yourself of this terri
ble propensity of dhveting what is another’s!”
But I appealed to conscience to answer me if
Mrs. Driggs was not the most beautiful of
women! If, therefore, I could help admir
ing her! If Driggs himself did not intro
duce me etc! But it was of no use ; the lit
tle monitor stuck to its text and I stuck to
mine—and went to Driggs’ dinner.
- To tel! all that passed that afternoon and
evening would require a three volume novel.
Driggs alone shone as he never shone before,
and seemed to be the happiest man in the
world. Why should he not be, I asked, with
such a wife! After coffee, we' had singing.
I had heard Jenny Lind and Grisi; but what
were they to Mrs. Driggs ! I verily believed
that she would sipg them off the stage. Miss
Thorp sang also; but to be frank, I look her
powers for granted, and retired to the other
parlor with Mrs. Driggs. And there for
hours (so the clock said, but it seemed incred
ible) we talked about every imaginable sub
ject—about the weather, the country, the city,
the opera, the fashions, the last new novel,
about poetry and sentiment, and love —until
at last one of my Stands, without the slightest
consciousness on my part, had slipped into
hers, and the other I verily believe was about
to clasp her to my heart, when in came—
Driggs! My hands were transferred to my
pockets in a second, and I shrunk from my
friend as if I had been stealing his silver. —
I had not said a word to his wife (so at least
she has told me since) which was not per
fectly proper ; but I felt as if I was the black
est villain ip the world. Judge however, of
the state, of my brain, of my utter bewilder
ment, when, as I stepped to the window to
hide tjiy emotion —or to jump out, were it
WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. JANUARY 21* 1858.
necessary—l overheard the’ lady saying to
my friend: "
“My dear, what a charming man Mr. Craw
fish is I ■ How intelligent i . He has read
everything. And then how beautifully be
talks; and how affectionate he seems. Ah I
If I had a husband like him I would be per
fectly happy.” •
This was terrible. ■ I had made her discon
tented with her husband. It was 100-much
to bear ; I seized Driggs hy the arm, hurried
him into the ball, owned up to him my vil
lainy, asked him-a thousand pardons, prom
ised neveree cross his threshold again, and
then rushed for my bat, when, with the most
impertnrbable coolness he walked between
me and the door, looked me quietly in the
face, and said:
“My dear Crawfish,-be calm. Come with
me into the garderi-and let us settle the mat
ter at once.”
■ “Settle the mailer 1 What, fight with my
old friend Driggs, the dearest friend I -have
in the world, and fight with him on his own
premises I Never. I own up that I have
grossly outraged you and beg your pardon if
necessary, on my knees. Moreover, if you
re—”
“I (ell you again, my dear friend, keep
cool.”
By this time we were in the garden, and
Driggs, forcing me into a chair, continued
thus:
“Now, Crawfish, be quiet and listen to me,
while 1 too, make a confession. I hqve a se
cret to tell you. All right I”
The words ‘.“all right” relieved me im
mensely ; but what manner of man was this
who could use them under such circumstan
ces ? The mystery was soon solved.
“My good fellow,” said Driggs, in a lone
severe but kind, “do you really fancy you
love Mrs. Driggs 7 Don’t be afraid lb an
swer ; tell me honestly and truly. Remem
ber, you have met her but twice, and it may,
afieij all, be nothing but a mere caprice.”
“My dear Driggs, you are cruel. Why
torment me thus ? Have I not made a clean
breast of it and confessed it all I”
“Then you do love her. Good! I believe
you. Listen, now, and hear my story. 1
sympathize with you most profoundly, for I,
100, cold as I appear, know what it is to love,
and to tell you the truth, do this moment love
—l6ve with my whole soul—the lady to whom
you have hardly spoken a word this whole
evening.”
“What, Miss Thorp ! Impossible ! Com
pared with your wife, she is not worth a tho’t.
Why—”
“Hold, my friend, not so fast. You may
praise your own love as much as you please,
but not a word against mine, for know you
I not only love that lady, but she loves me
in return, and, in fact, is my wife.”
“Your wife!”
“Yes, you dunce, and any one but a crazy
pale, like yourself, would have discovered it
long ago. So, my good follow, if you really
love her sister, now is your chance.”
I did love her; it was my chance, and I
improved it ; so the reader knows how I came
to be. married, and, I may add, why 1 now
love my friend Driggs more than ever.
An Appearance not set Down in the
Bills. —On the first night of Cooper’s en
gagement at Cincinnati the following whimsi
cal incident occurred—Othello was the play :
The fame of the great tragedian had drawn
a crowded audience, composed of every de
scription of persons, among the rest a coun
try lass of sixteen, whom (not knowing her
real name) we will call Peggy. Peggy had
never before seen the inside of a play-house.
She entered at the time Othello was making
his defence before the duke and 1 senators ; the:
audience was unusually attentive to the play,-
and Peggy was permitted to walk in the lob
by until she'arrived aflhe door of the stage
box when a gentleman handed her in without
ever taking his eyes from the celebrated per
former, and her beau, a country boy was
obliged to remain-in,the lobby. Miss Peggy
stared about her for a moment, as doubting
whether she was in her proper place, until
casting her eyes on the stage, she observed
several chairs unoccupied. It was probable
this circumstance alone would have induced
her to take the step she did; but she observed
the people on the stage appeared more at ease
than those among whom she was standing,
and withal much more sociable 1 ; and as fate
would have it, just at the moment, Othello
looked nearly towards where she was stand
ing, and said, “Here comes the lady.” The
senators half rose, in expectation of seeing
the gentle Desdemona, when lo ! the maiden
from the country stepped from the box plump
on the stage, and advanced towards the ex
pecting Moor. It is impossible to give any
idea of the confusion that followed; the au
dience clapped and cheered —the duke and
senators forgot their dignity—the girl was
ready lo sink with consternation ; even Coop
er himself could not help joining in thn gene
ral mirth. The uproar lasted for seveial
minutes, until the gentleman who handed her
in the box helped the blushing girl out of her
unpleasant situation. It was agreed by all
present that a lady never made her debut on
any stage with more eclat than Miss Peggy.
— Burton' Encyclopedia of Wit and Humor.
Iron Toes. — A man who can endure to
have his coins mashpd without grumbling is
undoubtedly possessgd of a heavenly dispo
sition., One of iheselfue Christians bejng
at a political meeting, he said, in a pleasant
manner to a big burly fellow who was stand
ing upon his toes :
“My dear sir, are you not a miller?”
“No sir ; why do you ask ?”
'•Why, sit;, the fact is, I thought you were
a miller, and a very honest one, 100, Tor you
have been grinding my corn, this half hour
without taking toll.'’
Anecdote of Aaron Burr.
The interest whiph , Col. Burr took in the
education of youth, has before been alluded
to. He always bad a protege in training, .up
on whose culture he bestowed unwearied pains
and more money than he could always af
ford. The story of Vanderlyn, that most
distinguished protege he ever had, was one
he often related in bis later years.
He was riding along in a carriole and pair
one day during his Senatorial term, when one
of his horses lost a shoe, and he stopped at
the next blacksmith’s to have it-replaced. It
was a lonely country place, not for from
Kingston, Ulster county, N. Y. He strolled
about white the blacksmith was at work,-and,
returning, saw upon the side of a stable, near
by, a charcoal drawing of his own curricle
and'horses. The picture, which must have
been executed in a very few minutes, was
wonderfully accurate and spirited, and he
stood admiring it for some time. Turning
round, he noticed a- boy a little way off,
dressed in coarse.homespon clothing,
“Who did that ?” inquired Burr pointing to
the picture.
“I did it,” said the boy.
The astonished traveler entered into con
versation with the lad ; found him intelligent,
though ignorant; learned that he was born
in the neighborhood ; had had no instruction
in drawing, and was engaged to work for the
blacksmith six months. Burr wrote a few
words on a piece of paper, and said :
“My boy, you are 100 smart a fellow to
stay here all your life. If ever you should
want to change your employment and see the
world, just put a clean shirt into your pocket,
go to New York, and go straight to that ad->
dress,” handing the boy the piece of paper.
He then mounted his curricle and was out
of sight in a moment. Several months pass
ed away, and the circumstance had nearly
faded from the busy Senator’s recollection.—
As be was sitting at breakfast one morning,
at Richmond Hill, a servant put into his hand
a small paper parcel, saying that it wasbro’t
by-a boy who was waiting outside. Burr
opened the parcel, and found a coarse, coun
try made clean shirt ! Supposing it to be a
mistake, he ordered the boy to be shown in.
Who should enter but the Genius of the
Roadside, who placed in Burr’s hand the
identical piece of paper he had given- him.
The lad was warmly welcomed. Burr look
him into his family, educated him, and pro
cured him instruction in the art which nature
indicated should be the occupation of his life
time. Afterward, Burr assisted him to Eu
rope, where he spent five years in the study
of painting, and became an artist worthy of
the name. ,
While Burr himself was wandering in Eu
rope, Vanderlyn was exhibiting pictures in
the Louvre, at Paris, and received from Na
poleon a gold medal, besides compliments
and felicitations from the Emperor’s own lips.
Vanderlyn did all he could for his benefactor
in Paris; but unhappily he had the success
ful artist’s usual fortune—poverty embittered
by glory. He afterwards had commissions
from Congress, and painted the well known
“Landing of Columbus” for a panel in the
rotunda of the Capitol at Washington. He
also painted the portraits of Cob Burr and
Theodosia from which the engravings were
taken by which their lineaments are now
known to the public. Vanderlyn died only
five years ago at Kingston, near the spot
where he drew the tharcoal sketch which de
cided his career.— Barton’s Life of Burr.
Anecdote of Western Stump Speak
ing.—The system of canvassing and elec
tioneering, as it is carried on in the South
-west, affords much that is amusing as well
"as instructive. We find in the “Editor’s
Drawer” of Harper, for December, a rich
joke said to have occurred in a canvass in
Tennesee, between the Hon. Cave Johnson
and Major Guslavus A. Henry. As the story
rnns, Major H., in reply lo an allusion of his
opponent ns to his manner of shaking hands,
said ;
“I will tell you a little anecdote illustra
tive of the peculiar electioneering abilities of
my honorable friend in his intercourse wilh
our intelligent constituents. We were can
vassing in a remote part of the district, and,
having an appointment to speak near the
house of a very influential squire, we spent
the previous night at his house together. It
was well known that the Squire controlled all
the votes in that precinct, and that his belter
half controlled him, so that it was all import
ant lo get on the right side of her. We had
agreed not to electioneer with the Squire
while we staid with him ; but I did not think
this forbade me to do my best wilh his family.
So I rose about daybreak next morning, and,
thinking that I should make friends with the
mistress of the house by bringing water to
cook the breakfast,"l look a bucket and start
ed off for the spring. I was tripping off on
“a light fantastic toe,” singing merrily as I
went along, when what on earth should I see,
as I looked into the barn yard, but the old
woman milking the cow, while my honorable
friend, with his face ruddy with morning ex
ercise, and his long locks streaming in the
breeze, was Holding the cow by the tail 1 1
saw in an instant that he had the start of me.
I returned to the house discomfited and aban
doned all hope of a vole in that region.”
A Chance for an Inference. —In pass
ing down one of our back streets, a few days
since, says the Mobile Advertiser, we over
heard a colloquy between a couple of dark
ies, and were just in lime to hear the fol
lowing :
“Now, look’ere ye'r, Charley, Jim moul be
an honest nigger, and then agin he moment;
but if J was a chicken, and ‘ knowed dat he
was about de yard, I tell yer what, I’d roosi
high, that I would.”
eommumcattons.
Jtor lbs Agitator.
Education and the Educator.
BY J. WALBRIDOR.
The infant comes into life an ignorant and
weak being, and morally incapable of dis
tinguishing right from wrong ; and since edu
cation implies the development of the whole
{nature moral, intellectual, physical, and so
cial, in ordet to complete its destiny—to
accomplish the end of its being, these weak
organs must be made strong and I vigorous ;
these often neglected mental andj moral for
ever must all be awakened, unfolded and
framed. The child no sooner has existence
thdp the mind expands itself for jibe recep
tion of knowledge. Its bjdily frame-work
byVproper exercise acquires strength and de
velopment, and thereby fulfils the design of
its Creator. No person can become strong
intellectually unless he taxes h(s' physical
powers m the same ratio that he does his in
tellectual. A sound mind requiijes a sound
body, and \ice versa. Either should not re
ceive a diyorce at the other.-
As resects the moial training-—the time to
commence such a course of discipline is not
of little consequence, for no sooner does the
intellect begin its action than the sentient na
ture follows closely and perseveringly in its
train. It cannot be doubled by iny one but
that the development of the head! and heart
begins essentially at the same time. As the
mind is continually operative asja matter of
couse, it receives and incorporates into itself
moral principles either right or wpng. The
child is endowed with faculties which fit it for
grasping great aod.comprehensive principles,
yet, it is by nature a- helpless cipalure. Its
dormant powers must be drawn but, must be
developed, before the miod can k'how its own
nature, its own acts. j
The mind in its first stages is wholly des
titute of any actual knowledge; pence arises
the necessity of education, and its object
should be to educate the whole najure of man.
Education is not limited as many suppose to
the mere training of the intellectual faculties,
the moral and physical as wellas the mental
should also be subjected to severe and con
tinued discipline—these should hot be suffered
to remain neglected, but should! be aroused
and pul into'effective operation! Can it be
possible that a man can be a: rpental giant
and at the same time a physical dwarf? Can
it be possible that a person can be a complete
man while he is deficient in moral principle ?
What is the condition of that! man who has
a strong and vigorous body and-at the same
lime does not possess sufficient) intelligence
to know his duly to himself, ‘la bis family,
and to the community in which he lives. —
What signifies the word power! to him who
does not know to what purpose fo apply that
power of which he so vauntinfjly boasts?
Brule force does not not make theiman ! great
physical strength must yield thej palm to su
perior intelligence. Now what isiinteliigencef
A great many have defined it-i-ai great many
constructions have been given ,tp this simple
though important word—yel,;Tts meaning is
well understood by him perceives that
it denotes a cultivated mijft .the developed
faculties of the human understanding. Then
who does not esteem it a principle worthy of
being sought ? Who does not desire to have
all the discriminating powersiof his internal
Intellect, unfolded to that degree, that will
enable him to hold converse ‘with nature in
all its phenomena 1 Who can jquestion that
he would not live happier and! better if he
only knew as he ought to know?
The mind is first brought ipto action by>
means of its connexion with the material
world and considered in relaliondo that world
it is truly a blank, on which impressions are
lo be made which will continue unchanged
as long as time exists, fur nothing is ever
forgotten. The power of recollection may
slumber, but cannot die. This>curious com
bination of powers made up pfl the invisible
soul and bodily frame-work which surrounds
it, is at first voiceless and silept. Nor is it
possible that it will ever become operative
unless affected by those outward influences
which exist in the various forms of the ma
terial creation. The basis of all our knowl
edge is derived from those outward objects
which surround us. It is not until we have
in some measure exhausted lhajt which is ex
ternal, that the mind inquires} reasons, and
compares. Our first knowledge is acquired
by means of the senses, yet the eye never
saw, nor did the ear ever heajr ; how true
the fact yet how few ever thought of it.—
Deprive man of his ear, and all nature be
comes silent; deprive him of! his eye, and
the universe becomes darkened; and why I
Simply because the mind has lost the use of
those organs, which it employs ns mediums
of intercourse wilh the external world. Why
is it that the child does rio( comprehend
abstract ideas—ideas which require a test of
the reasoning powers ? Hdwt can it know
what it should not have been taught? How
can it comprehend what nature did not intend
it lo know. Consequently,jthe teacher at
tempting to teach the young idea how to
shoot, finds that he must restart to some other
expedient than abstract theories. Ho often
finds it impossible to conform| to the wishes
of his patrons, many of whom being igno
rant of the tiue nature of the .mind send the
child to school loaded with books, expecting
that it ought to comprehend what some ma
ture minds can barely conceive. They won
der why the pupil does make greater
progress in his studies. The fact is the child
is not prepared to study what it iaexpected
to study-; it is not prepared to leave the
world of sense and dive into bold, calculating
abstractions.- During the'oitrly period of
fife, far thfe greater portion of; the minds acts
can be traced to a material aotirce. Children
Advertisement* will be charged 81 per square of
fourteen lines, for one, or three insertions, and 25
oenls foy ev*rysub*eq.ncnt insertion. Alladsertise
menls.of less than fourteen lines considered as a
squate. The following rat» wilt be charged for
Quarter];, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—.
’ ' C 3 months; 6 months. 12 mo’s
Square, (Ulines,)-82 50' 34 50 8600
•Squares,- . , . 400 600 808
rcolanm, - • - • 1060 is 00 20 00-
.edamn.. - . .-.18 00 30 00 40 00
A(J advertisements not having (he number of iq*
sertions marked open them, will be kept in until or.
oered out, and charged accordingly;
• IWw, Handbills, Letter Headland all
liimls of Jobbing done in coootry eatabGxbments.
executed and promptly. Justices’, Coasts,
blcs’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and
printed to order." '
NO. XXV;
musc.be instructed by means of sensible ob.
jeers. A teacher cannot succeed fa making
an. abstract ’ statement of an action or event
clearly understood by them; they cannot
understand it j they listen, but do not coot
prebend, for the process is without question
against nature. But present the object or a
faithful picture of it and then explain yon*
abstract language by a reference to the object'
or picture, and it la/bond that they learn with
rapidity and delight. Thia ie a good reason
why a.child cannot become a scholar by any
abstract forming, in process. Having mads
these preliminary remarks I shall proceed to
discuss the nature of the education that the
people want. The, requirement should be a
true education, but true education is develop
ment, then what ends should it contemplate ?
First, there should be a thorough and harmo
nious development of the whole man. The
powers of the mind and body should be cul.
livaled together. One extreme wastes the
vital energies; the other degrades heaven,
born powers to a level with the brute.
(To he continued .)
“Don’t you think we have got the dearest
minister in the world V’ said-Laurina, as she
was spending an afternoon at Mrs, Parting,
ton’s. Mrs. Partington’s mind sallied back
majestically in review of many ministers who
had officiated in the Old North, before she
replied : “This is the dearest one, by a heap
of money, dear; and if ministers is to be
considered good according to their market
valley, he is,the best.” “Don’t you like his
preaching?” said the young lady, cutting the
drift of the old lady's remark like a snow
plow; “I think he is divine. He’s so flowery,
and his.description so, graphic that while list
ening we can almost hear the sound of water
and see the growing herbage. She was very
enthusiastic, and the subject called out all
her eloquence. “Yes, be is very fluid,” re
plied the dame, “I know—very watery—and
I’ve, noticed the herbage also, but I don’t
think he comes up quite to some of our old
pastures in point of real strength. Why,
Dr. Verbal used to preach a sermon three
hours long, and then have a lecture in the
evening, which was well giving us our mon
ey’s worth. But all to their taste, as the old
lady said when she kissed the cow.” She
relapsed into a chair and the conversation
turned on other subjects. The question is.
Did the old lady alluded to ki& her cow, and
did she make any such remark ?
I Guess You Cart Come. —We heard a
good story a day or two ago, which we tell
maugre the risk of its being second-handed ;
and it is too good a story to oflbnd even those
whose sect it hits. Some good lady, at the
o’utset of Universalism, conceived a holy hor
ror at the blasphemy of its bold supporters
in pretending that all would be saved. It
was preposterous, outrageous; in the spirit
that filled her, she wouldn’t have a man in
her house who believed in the abominable
doctrine. She kept a boarding house, and
applied a test ol belief to all who sought to
obtain board. The first who offered was a
sea captain, and she began with—
“Do you believe that all the world will be
saved!”
“No, madam,” said he. '
“How many do you think will be damned?”
continued she. 1 •
“Oh !” said he, “I don’t know—perhaps a
million.”
“Well,” the old lady remarked, in a tone
of cor tent, “well that’s better than none at
all; I guess you can come.”— Lynn's Rep.
Literal Construction. —Mr. Hurd, the
celebrated tjeacher of grammar, once on a
time at Hopkinton, Mass., set his class to
parsing the following lines of Pope :
“Heaven from all creatures hides the book
of fate; All but the page described,'” &c.
The word “all,” in the second line, had
been parsed, when coming to the word “but,”
and directing bis eye to the next pupil the
master said:
“.But,” the-next.
No sooner was the word out; than plump
went the bead of the pupil into the bread
basket of his next neighbor.
“800 I hoo! hoo !” roared the latter most
lustily.
What are you about there? said the mas
ter of the former.
“I’m butting the next, sir, as you told me,’’
replied the lad.
Sentimental Scene. —(Romantic young
man tenderly pointing with his Jeweled digit
to the star in question) Marintha Ann, do you
see that star?
Young Lady —(expectantly) “Oh, yes.”
Young Man —(gazing upon his partner
with a look expressive of considerable doubt
and great internal agony) “Marintha Ann,
do you love that star?”
Young Lady —(tremulously) I think I do.”
Young Man —(big with the consequence
of having made a point) “Oh, Marintha Ann,
I wish I was that star.
At the top or at the bottom of all illusions
I set the cheat which will leads us to work
and live for appearances : in spite of our con;
viction, in all sane hours, that it is what w$
really are that avails with friends, with' stran
gers, and with fate or fortune. — Emerson,
A good pun is a qoveltv, but N. P. Willis
recently got off one. Describing a recent
dinner at Delmonico’s, at which George Cur
tis was a' guest, Willis devoted a paragraph
to the latter, and informs his readers '“£Toi»-
nd/ilaled he was.”
Sidney Smith says, “The Angld-Sazon
race was made for two purposes—to manu
facture calico and steal land which God gave
for every man lo use,” Land-stealers and
speculators generally, please copy.
Bates of Advertising.