ijpgfins of Publicfllion#
TFIE TIOGA COONTY AGITATOR is pub
J Thursday Morning, and mailed to anb
i ' sD .f‘L n/ihe very reaaooable price of Ora Dol-
Kr,be rmnomi invariably inadeanee. Itiaintend-
P e ,;f v every subscriber when the term'for
ed hlrh he has paid shall have expired, by the stamp
ffluc jj. p 0u i ”on the margin of the last paper.
T oer Will then bh Sloped until a further re-
Tie paper . j toy tills arrangement no man
jniltance “^ debt r/the prinlel
ran bc fc ' o “^ iTot ia the Official Paper of the Coon
■1 I,«ra and steadily increasing circulation
ly, with a ur- neir)y every neighborhood in the
reaching I Mnt j Ttt 0 y to any Post-office
C™" l *;,.. coaD ty limits, and to those living within
within w (, ose mostconvenientpostoffice may
tlie mad oin.ag County.
Cards, not exceeding s.lines, paper in
eluded, 34 per
ORATION,
Delivered before the Tioga Co. Teach
er’s Institute,
RE F. D. RITTER,
Ladiei and Gentlemen, c History tells us
that far back in the early ages of the world,
wbeo it was shrouded in comparative dark
ness, civilization began springing up here and
there like springs in a desert, shedding joy
and peace around, and forming an oasis in
the great desert of human degradation. Fol
lowing farther down the great stream of time
they become more frequent, and uniting, form
larne streams that sweep on with irresistible
impetuosity. When impediments to their
progress were presented, it sought outlets
through other channels or swept away all
obstructions. Civilization began wending its
way through ancient Greece and Palestine,
penetrating . he confines of ihe darkness which
encompassed them, until they were acknowl
edged as the cradles of learning, the sources
from which emanated all light, and to which
art and science pointed as their birth-places.
But alas! how changed our condition. To
accomplish the present refined stale of society,
mijhtv struggles have been made. As the
healthful influence of civilization advanced,
sow 1 .? improved, and the same bright stand
ard cf reform that waved o’er the shores of
Galiilee now unfurls its bright folds o’er the
“cradle of Liberty,” where it is the pride of
each true heart to raise it still higher ; where
no caste or obscurity of birth dooms man to
!stiommy and disgrace, but where by their
industry and moral worth, each may attain
positions of honor and dignity. Woman,
once the slave of eastern climes, here takes
the place -to which by nature she is designed.
Anciently a nation’s delight and highest glory
consisted iq bloodshed and carnage. Rome,
whose praises have been so loudly sung, de
lighted in her gladitorial combats, and in
maddened frenzy reveled in human blood.—
Greece, around whose name clusters so much
of elory, also indulged in scenes that will
forever tarnish and dim the brightness of her
glorious career. Yet these by their down
fall and ruin furnish us examples that we
may shun the shoals and quick-sands upon
which they were cast, [n short, civilization
transforms man from a mere animal, without
one high and lofty aspiration, with no enjoy
menl but the gratification of low animal na
ture, to a reasonable and intelligent being.—
Yet in all the darkness the mind is still there.
But what is that mind, that viial part which
the Creator has bestowed upon man, but a
perverted power to plunge him still deeper
in degradation and woe I Contrast the con
dition of the civilized wiih that of the sav
age. Go with me to file heathen shores,
where the nature of mankind has never
known the healthful influences of civilization,
or the arts and sciences broken through the
misty atmosphere of the darkened under
standing, where Ihe religion of the cross has
never iliumed the fogs of ignorance and su
persniion that envelop them. Behold what
scenes present themselves to our sight. The
moihcr leaning the babe from her bosom and
hurling ii into the flood, with no heart lopily
the helpless thing as it sends up its cry of
distress, but with seeming joy sees it writhe
in agony ; and the victim of idolatry, throw,
ingbrnself to be crushed to deaih beneath
the winds of the car of Jugernaut. Behold
these ihmgs and thank God that your lot has
cast m a land of reason and Christianity.
Asciriliziijon advances, ignorance and SU-
persuiion give way, and instead of heathen
idols are seen ihe spires of church
os glancing m the rising and setting sun, and
lr o6 Christian worship ascending from hearts
that formerly reveled in heathen idolatry.—
To civilization we owe the privileges and lux
unes of life. U has given us laws by which
*o are protected and by which we may be
governed. It affords us the means of enlight
enment by establishing the printing press—
. 1 mighty engine of thought, and by build
,n 2 our school houses, placing knowledge
"'t'hin the reach of millions; thus enabling
ntankmd to see the position they occupy in
creation, to know partially the end for which
™an was created, and to enjoy the thousand
twites that are given for our enjoyment up
cn the right hand and upon the left. It pro
caims the gospel of Jesus Christ to a dying
or ,and points with living hope to a bright
n g'Onous hereafter. It alleviates the suf
, J ,n g s of mortal man by leaching him the
", 01 nalure upon which his happiness de
s,° j 1 as placed the products of a world
‘° ,J r disposal, by placing upon the mighty
tron' m , ean3 01 ,ran3 portalion, and upon the
rai ’h® engines that speed along our val
vhe' mas,n S "°ods and hills re-echo back
’hus rendering the elements
li hi- e VeS su i )ierv ient to the will of man.—
ii,j 1 *’ lau Sh t man 10 bring down the forked
rom the murky cloud and attach to
r(°-° h ! s an( * set> d * l the faithful
juj'j' 01 bis w dl; thus annihilating lime
itomT' 6 stretching the magnetic wire
ev en fr*" l ° lo .' vn ’ rom sla,e t 0 stale, nay,
coa,ment 10 continent, qommuni-
Ihat r na ? ’ aslant with places so distant
°ecess rno . er wce ' ts nni * even nnonihs were
kin a 10 accom Piish what it now takes
■ks m .° menl 10 perform. In view of all
Hj ail 18 bat natural to enquire by what
•koui S p ® reat results have been brought
seernerf t ‘ ac^r ' n 'he dark ages. when all
th ere snomerged in blackness, here and
kaviri'i i ° at j ” ave been seen seme minds,
ing ;. 0 a f „ ’he cup of inspiraiiun, tower-
C™ el above the rest of mankind,
Br °und nj* V ri = I'’ 1 '’ J ewels from the rubbish
"form = D j s ” odd ’ n 8 forth- rays of healthy
face of n ao< *' ,n B boldly forth, dared in
lhe nnew. a k °P pos ' , ton to proclaim whai
lh, S bad io°fi„k? Shl P nd j us, ‘ Atld although
= m against superstition, ignor-
I
THE AGITATOR.
Scfroteg to tfte Extension of tf)t a«a of iFmgont nnlf tfie Ssmtt of mtnltf)s ntfovml I
WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ MAN’S INHUMANITT TO MAI?” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE,
YOU. IY. ,
ance, and worse than all, the jealousies of
potentates, yet they persevered, and many
testified to their.faith in the works which they
did by expiring amid the faggot’s blaze; yet
their ashes spoke eloquently for the doctrines
they taught. the work went on.—
Others caught up the strain, and it burst forth
with an impetuosity that the potentates of
earth wiih bloody hands were unable to stay.
Under this genial reform the arts and sciences
sprang up; and the civilization thus begun
in the old world extended westward until it
reached its culminating point in the new.
“Westward the star of empire takes its way.”
Not the least in the aid to civilization and
reform is education, preparing the mind for
greater exertion in true reform, by expanding
and developing its natural slate. For ’tis
the mind that gives to man his boasted power.
■What is the puny arm of man compared
with halure animate and inanimate. Man
sinks into insignificance when compared with
inanimate nature. The lightning that flash
es athwart the sky, shivering the mighty oak
to atoms; the fierce wind that tears the for
est trees from the earth; the vast wave of
the mighty deep; the myriads of revolving
worlds, do all bid him wonder and admire.—
Yet with reason at his side, man can subdue
these and make them his servants.
Leaving the mind out of consideration,
what would be the power of man to combat
with the most insignificant of animate nature.
The horse, that so patiently submits to be
his servant, would be far his superior, and
could withstand the combined strength of
many such feeble creatures as man. It is
reason that gives man the strength to sub
due. Then how important that it should be
cultivated aright, while the mind is yet ten
der and susceptible of being moulded either
right or wrong, for as learning and virtue
appear, civilization shines out bright and
speeds more rapidly. As were in ancient
limes the philosophers and reformers to the
world, so may the school teachers be to the
present day. As the philosophers nod re
formers held the destinies of their nations
within their grasp, so in a measure dues the
teacher, by training the mind of the young
and disciplining it to toil and rigid though'.
For ’tis thought that makes the man. It is
not a knowledge of facts, (true these are nec
essary) but the disciplined mind has prece
dence over these. Many a school boy of the
present day knows mote of the facts con
lained in philosophy, than Sir Isaac Newton
ever did. Then why is ha not as great a
man? Simply because so great original
thought ia not of his composition. He has
not plunged into the mysteries of nature and
brought forth those things which were con
cealed ; but he has only to look at those
things which have been searched out by oth
ers. To the teacher peculiarly belongs the
duty of so training and developing thejnlel
lect of those under his care, that
“With minds inured to rigid thought.
In love, in science and in virtue taught,”
they may be prepared well their part
in the drama of life. Civilization has drawn
aside the pall of darkness which surrounded
the understanding. Education has awakened
the slumbering powers of man and given to
him new energies, discovered to him new and
hidden beauties, and whispered in his ears
words of heavenly import. With mind no
longer trammeled by ignorance, but quicken-'
ed and refined, the present time limits not his
scope of vision, in contemplation he can
dwell in eras beyond the flood—lread the
walks of Eden where Jehovah first spoke
mao into being—commune with patriarchs
and sages of olden time—can stand at the
foot of sacred Sinai and behold the lightnings
playing from the clouds—penetrate the dark
confines of the future, and watch the ever
varying scenes its dark vista yet conceals
from the uninspired. How vast the contrast
between the cultivated and uncivilized mind.
How sad and dark the history of the latter.
Millions have groveled along the pathway of
life in ignorance, beholding no ray of light
to guide them —have been wrecked at the
gales of vice, victims to a thousano crimes
—have left the world and a darkness dreary
as the tomb. But that darkness is fast dis
appearing before the onward march of civili
zation. Who shall tell the results of the la
bors of the missionaries who have left home,
friends, and everything dear to them but the
cause of Christ, and gone to the heathen
shores to proclaim the Gospel, and to carry
civilization with all its benefits to the very
doors of the savage. Although many perish
by cruel hands, yet their blood may be the
means of redeeming a fallen nation, and en
veloping (hem in a halo of light. Tradition’s
tales may pass away. Monumental marble
may crumble into t dust, yet time can not ob
literate from the memory of ages the moral
influence of such men. Their monuments
shall be raised in Heaven. Let us each of
us try to do something worthy of the privi
leges we enjoy.
Fellow, Teachers, let us not yield to dis
couragements. We can see many things to
encourage us, and our present position should
cause our hearts to swell with gratitude as
we turn our eyes to the rock first pressed by
pilgrim feel and as our thoughts linger on
the scenes of their sufferings, may we re
member the inheritance they have left us and
what it cost, may we ever guard with con
stant care this priceless treasure, and resolve
to prepare fora “mysterious' future, fathom
less, o’ercast.” Whatever may be the dreams
and fancies of youth, life is a stern reality.
Then it demands of us that our notions of it
be real, that we cultivate proper tastes and
habits, for in the morn of life is the time to
be armed for its sterner duty, for the vicissi
tudes of its decline. How sad and filled with
remorse must ba that mind which can look
I back upon a'Jife spent in vain display, culli-
WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. JULY 8, 1858.
vated in naught but trifles. When the
hours of youth, which might have been de
voted to exalted attainments, preparing it for
usefulness, are gone never to be recalled,
then all regrets are vain, remorse of no avail.
Few know the duties, cares and perplexities
of (he teacher till they have assumed the
responsibility. And few there are who can
realize the anxieties of everv faithful teacher
for the immortal minds under their charge.
Souls undying are being moulded, either for
the weal or woe of every youthful voyager.
Impressions are being made that will be
carried with them through the endless ages
of eternity as enduring as the characters
made by the finger of God upon tablets given
to Moses on the sacred Mount, Sinai. With
these reflections before the mind, what teach
er can have a heart so indifferent as not to
feel the responsibility of his position and his
duty to those beneath his care; and whom
they are bound, socially and morally to
watch over with prayerful solicitude. Al
though we have but little sympathy from
without, let us do our duty and leave the rest
to God. Finally, may I not hope to see our
Institute leading to glorious results. And
that many of its members stand proudly con
spicuous in this empire of mind. May the
star of its destiny ever shine with unsullied
lustre, and as the impersonation of real
genios, (he embodiment of all that is great
and noble. The world has.need of such
teachers to take charge of the rising genera
tion. All departments of life loudly call for
such men and women. Who, with earnest
ness stamped upon their brows may pursue
the right with a zeal that knows no diminu
tion. Then shall those who have spent their
lives and energies for Ihe cause of civiliza
tion and reform know that they have not
lived in vain.
Spare Moments. —A lean, awkward boy
came to the door of a principal of a celebra
ted school, one morning, and asked to see
him. The servant eyed his mean clothes
and thinking he looked more like a beggar
than anything else, told him to go round to
the kitchen. The boy did as he was bidden,
and soon appeared at the back door.
“1 should like to see Mr. ,” said he.
“You want a breakfast, more like,” said
the servant girl, “and I can give you that
without troubling him.”
“Thank you,” said the boy ; “I should
like to see Mr. 1, if he can see me.”
“Some old clothes may be yo(i warn,” re
marked ihe servant, again cyeipg the boy’s
patched .clothes. “1 guess he has noue to
spare —he gives away a sight.” And with
out minding the boy’s request, the servant
went about her work.
“Can 1 see Mr. .’’again asked the boy,
after finishing his bread and butler.
“Well, he is in the library ; if he must be
disturbed, he must. He does like to be alone,
sometimes,” said the girl, in a peevish lone.
She seemed to be very foolish to take such
a boy into her master’s presence. However,
she wiped her hands, and bade him follow.
Opening the library door, she said, “Here’s
somebody who is dreadful anxious to see you,
and so I let him in. 1
I don’t know how the boy introduced him
self, or how he opened the business ; but I
know that after talking a while, the principal
put aside the volume that he was studying,
and look up some Greek books, and began to
examine the new-comer. The examination
lasted for some time. Every question the
principal asked the boy, was answered as
readily as could be.
“Upon my word,” exclaimed the principal,'
“you do well,” looking at the boy dom head
to fool over his spectacles. “Why my, boy,
where did you pick up so much.”
“In my spare moments,'' answered the
boy.
Here was a poor, hard-working boy, wiih
few opportunities for schooling, yet almost
filled for college, by simply improving bis
spare moments. Truly are spare moments
the “gold-dust of time.” How precious they
should be. What account can you give of
your spare moments? What can you show
for them ? Look and see. This boy can
tell you how very much can be laid up by
improving them ; and there are many, very
many other boys, I am afraid, in the jail, and
in the house of correction, in the gambling
house, in the tippling shop, who, if you were
to ask them where they began their sinful
courses, might answer, “in my spare mo
ments.’’
Oh, be very careful how you spend your
spare moments! The tempter always hunts
you out in small seasons like these ; when
you are not busy, he gets into your hearts,
if he possibly can, in just such gaps. There
he hides himself, planning all sorts of mis
chif. Take care of your spare moments!—
Mrs. H. C. Knight.
The Doctor’s Welcome. —Down East
there resides a certain M. D. One very cold
night he was roused from his slumber by a
very loud knocking at the door. After some
hesitation he went to the window and asked :
“Who’s there '!”
“Friend.”
“What do you want?”
“Stay all night.”
“Slay there then,” was the benevolent re-
Plj.”
The Duke Marborough passing the gale of
the tower, after having inspected that fortress,
was accosted by an ill-looking fellow thus :
“How do you do, my Lord Duke? I be
lieve your grace and I have been in every
jail in ihe kingdom.” “I believe friend,” re
plies the Duke with surprise, “this is the on
ly jail I .have ever visitedi” “Very like,”
replied the fellow, “but I have been in all the
rest.”
The Death of the Tigress.
The time for action, however, was nearer
at hand than any of the party imagined,
which was to lest our nerves and bring us
into somewhat close proximity with the game,
which with the exception of Lieut. F., none
of us had seen killed, much less encountered
on foot. Immediately beneath where we
stood Jn the lower fort commenced one of
those ravines of fissures with which the
mountain side was furrowed. Boulders of
rock betwixt the openings of which sprang
trees, cactus and grass, served to conceal its
shadowy depths and to afford a safe retreat
for the larger descriptions of game we hoped
to find. At this juncture of our tale, when
the cries of the beaters announced their ap
proach below the mouth of the ravine, and
the hopes of the expectants above became
fainter from the little space of ground that
remained unbeaten, one of the nearest beaters
shouted to Lieutenant F., who had clambered
a little way down the hill-side, that he had
seen something in the jungle for a moment
like “a small cow of a yellow color’’ making
for the mouth of the ravine, and the next in
stant the officer addressed fired a shot at some
object below, which was responded to by a
roar that left little doubt of the nature of the
game afoot. A call for volunteers from the
parly above was quickly followed by the
addition of Lieutenants P. and-W. to the
storming parly, consisting now of three tall,
active young men, fit for the ugly work be
fore them.
No time was lost in moving for the mouth
of the ravine below, which, it was judged the
animal must have made for; and knowing
that it had been struck by the shot fired by
Lieutenant F. the beaters were ordered to
form in the rear of the officers, who began |
their ascent up the bottom of the ravine and i
through a tangled mass of brushwood, trees
and rocks, towards an abrupt cliff that ap-1
peared to terminate it. Here an opening in
the cliff formed a cave of some ten feet wide
and as many deep, at the further extremity
of which appeared an ominous looking cir
cular hole about three feet in diameter—
a snug retreat for the animal we were in
search of.
The ground around was slrewn with sand,
and from the unmistakable foot-prints, of a
cheese plate size, surrounded by smaller ones
of a similar form, the startling fact an
nounced itself that we stood within a few feet
of A wounded tigress with cubs! Nothing
animated, however, was visible, or audible,
except the suppressed voices of the beaters
outside the den. VVe looked at other in si
lent question as to what was next ’o be done.
To return to our parly above, empty handed,
i.fler having'run our game to earth, was not
to be thought of. As a reconnoisance, F.
now cautiously crawled with rifle cocked, to
(he mou'h of the hole, and listened ; but
nothing was heard.from the darkness, though
from the recent foot-prints, it was clear it had
a resident; but how to draw him out was the
difficulty.
Smoking at last was determined on, and a
quantity of dry grass was heaped up at the
mouth of the hole and set on fire. The bla
zing pile now lighted up the rocky ante
chamber in which the expectants sat, or
rather kneeled, with their rifles cocked and
presented in the direction from whence we
expected her advent. Not a sound was heard
but our deep breathing and the crackling of
the burning grass and sticks, the smoke from
which rolled in volumes into the hole. Our
nerves, strung to tension for several minutes,
were on the point of relaxing, and the expi
ring flames of the grass as it shot forth its
last flickering gleams, revealed our com
pressed lips and somewhat pallid faces—
paled, but not, I trust, from Tear.
A glance around the space within—six
feet from the mouth of the hole—at once
assured us that our game could not escape ;
or -rather, what more probably suggested
itself at that anxious moment even to the
boldest heart of the parly, was, that the ti
gress could not possibly pass out without the
loss of life to one or all of us! In other
words, three armed men, with the door be
hind them, stood in a’room with a wounded
tigress. The fire had now burnt low, and
no longer obscured the aperture; and seeing
nothing of the enemy, hopes gave way to
fears that she had in some mysterious way
eluded us, when at that moment a volume of
smoke gently rolled back from the aperture,
and hardly gave! us lime to exclaim, “Steady
—here she comes !” ere the chest and head
of the tigress slpwly developed themselves.
At first she stood within six feel of us, her
eyes glaring, and her mouth open, from which
the gouts o( blood slowly trickled down,
turned towardsjus ; happily for us, she ap
peared momentarily blinded by the smoke.
But little time was left for reflection ; in a
moment more and our rifles were discharged
into the white field of her chest; a roar and
a spring, and the next moment she lay dead,
touching our feet.
New Way to Kill Rats.—A writer in
Ihe Rochester Vpxon proposes a new method
for killing rats, j His own house being over
run with the vermin, the servant gir6, who
had seen the effects of “old bourbon whisky”
on bipeds, thought she would try an experi
ment on the rats. Accordingly she look a
small quantity, made it very sweet with su.
gar, crumbled in bread enough for the crowd,
and set the distil in the cellar. A few hours
after she went down and found several rats
gloriously “fuddled,” engaged in throwing
bean pods and j hauling one another up lo
drink. These were easily disposed of; those
not killed.lefl thp premises immediately, suf
fering with a severe headache. The writer
adds that the medicine is quite agreeable to
take. j
Blairlage.
Marriage has in it less of beauty,rbut. more
of safety than the single life ; it 'hath not
more ease, but less danger; it is 'more mer
ry and more sad ; it is fuller of sorrows and
fuller of joys ; it lies under more j burdens,
but is supported by the strengths of love and
charily, and those burdens are dfelrghtfuU—
Marriage is the mother of the world; and pre
serves kingdoms, fills cities, churches, and
heaven itself. Celibacy, like the: fly in the
heart of an apple, dwells in perpetual sweet
ness, but sits alone, and is confined! and dies
in singularity; but marriage, like the useful
beej builds a house and gathers sweetness
from every flower, and unites man into
societies and republics, and sends out colonies,
and feeds the world with delicacies, and'obeys
their ruler, and keeps order, and exercises
many virtues, and promotes the interest of
mankind and is that state of gooci to which
God hath designed the present constitution
of the world. [
The marrage life is always an insipid a
vexation or a happy condition. 1 The first
is, when two people of no genius lor taste
for themselves meet together, upjon such a
settlement as has been though reasonable by
parents and conveyancers, from an exact
valuation of the land and cash of [ both par
lies. In this case the young lady’s person
is no more regarded than the house and im
provements in purchase of an estate]; but she
goes with her fortune, rather than 1 her for
tune with her. These make up the crowd
or vulgar of the rich, and fill up [the lumber
of human race, without beneficence towards
those above them.- P j
The vexatious life arises from a [conjunc
tion of two people of quick taste and resent
ment, put together for reasons wejl known to
their friends, in which especial care jis taken
to avoid (what they think the chief!of evils)
poverty, and insure to them richesjwith every
evil besides. These good people, live in a
constant constraint before company; and too
great familiarity alone. When they are
wi'hin observation, they fret at each other's
carrage and behaviour; when alone, they
revile each other’s, persons and conduct. In
company they are in purgatory ; when only
together, in a hell. [
The hi " marraige is, where t«d persons
tie happy raig- ~ ..-.o person:
meet and voluntarily make choice" of each
other, without principally regarding or neg
lecting the circumstances effort or beauty.
These may still love in spile of adversity or
sickness: the former we may, in Jsdme mea
sure, defend ourselves from; the lolher is
the portion of our make. | [
There is no one thing more loyefy in this
life, more full of the divine coinage, than
when a young maiden, from heV (past life,
from her happy childhood,] when dho ram
bled over every field and moor around her
home; when a mother anticipated) h!er wants
and soothed her little cares, when [brothers
and sisters grew, from merrjr playmates, to
loving, tru.-tful friends, from Christmas gath
erings and romps, the summer festivals in
bower or garden ; from the rooms! sanctified
by the death of relatives ; from Ih? secure
backgrounds of her childhood, and girlhood,
and maidenhood, looks out into the dark and
unilluminated future away from all [hat, and
yet, unterrified, undaunted, leans her fair
cheek upon her lover’s breadl, and tyhispers,
“Dear heart! I cannot see but j believe.
The past was beautiful, but the future I can
trust —with thee.'" \ ;
When a young wife leaves the! society of
het own kindred, and goes |o resid'e among
those of her husband, she passes under a new
set of influences, fa.vorable qr unfavorable to
her character and wishes. If sheifinds their
sentiments harmonious with her dwn, and if
both are elevated and refined, then the union
is the'augmented flow of a-brighj qnd Iran-'
quil stream. More happy i still jfojr her, if
superior worth or sockjl - standing bn their
part affords a welcome influence to light her
to their level. But often she beconfes allied
to those whosa views and ways a|c .[quite di
verse from hers. The two families,;ot races,
have been trained on diiferent [systems,
trained to different habits, prejudices, and
aims. Then supposing their stacditni to be
inferior to hers, it will usually and almost
necessarily-happen, either that shejwill ele
vate them or they will depress her. j
Beautiful. —The lollowmg lines : are from
the pen of Geo. D. Prentice : j
“Why is it that the rainbow and the cloud
come over us with a beauty that [is not of
earth and then pass away, and leave us to
muse on faded loveliness? Why is it that
ihe stars that hold the nightly (estival around
the midnight throne, are placed above the
reach of our limited faculties, forever mock
ing us wiih- their unapproachable glory?—'
And why is it that the bright’ foirris of hu
man beauty are presented to ou - piew and
then taken from us, leaving the thousand
streams of affection to flow back in |almighty
torrents upon the human heart ? i We are
born of a larger destiny than ihaldsf earth.
There is a land where the stars will be set be
fore us like islands in the ocean,japd where
the beautiful beings that pass before us like
a meteor, will stay in our-presence furevetS”
After the flight ofythe Pope fJom Rome,
the King of Naples/ who had come lo visit
the Holy Father irf his exile, went [with him
on board an American frigate. The com
mander welcomed them in these terms :
“Pope, how are you ? King, holv d’ye do ?
Here, Lieut. Jones, you speak Fren:h—par
ies vous with the Pope while the King arid 1
go down and have a drink. Come <jh King.”
Women are true to each other in all things
but babies, and there it must be| Confessed,
they do flatter each o'hqr a little- 1^
I
[ i
i :
: I
Advertisements will be charged SI per square nf
fourteen lines, far one, or three insertions, and 25
cents tor every subsequent insertion. All advertise
ments of less than fourteen lines considered as a
sqnaie. The following rates will be charged for
Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—
1
i
; [
| t
I i
Square, <l4 lines,) - $2 50 84 50 86 00
2Squares,- - ... 400 600 809
J column, .... 1000 15 00 20 00
column,. . . . .18 00 30 00 40 00
All advertisements not having the number of in
sertions marked npon them, will be kept in until or
dered out, and charged accordingly.
Posters, Handbills, Bill,and I.eLtcr Heads,and all
kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments,
executed neatly and promptly. Justices’, Consta '
bles’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and
printed to order.
NO.XLK.
Look Before you Kick. —A minister re
cently, while on his way lo preach a funeral
setmon in the eountry, called lo see one of
his members, an old widow lady, who lived
near the road he was traveling. The oid
lady had just been making sausages, and she
felt proud of ihera they were so plump, round
and sweet. Of course she insisted on her
minister taking some of the links home to
his family. He objected on account of not
having his portmanteau along. This objec
tion was soon overruled and the old lady,
after wrapping them in a rag, carefully placed
a bundle in either pocket of the preacher’s
capacious coat. Thus equipped, he started
for the funeral.
While attending to the solemn ceremonies
of lhe grave, some hungry dogs scented the
sausages, and were not long in tracking them
to the pocket of the good man’s overcoat.
Of course this was aigreal annoyance, and
he was several times under the necessity of
kicking those whelps away. The obsequies
at the grave completed, the minister'and con
gregation, repaired to,the church where the
luneral discourse w'as to be preached.
After the sermon was finished the minister
halted lo make some remarks lo his congre
gation,when a brother, who wished to hive
an appointment given out, ascended the steps
of the pulpit aid gave the minister’s coat a
hitch to gel attention. |The divine, think
ing it a dog having a design upon his pocket,
raised his fool, gave a sudden kick, and sent
the good brother sprawling down the steps.
“You i wdl excuse me, brethren and sis
ters !” said the minister, confusedly and
without looking at the work he had just done,
“fur I could not avoid it. 1 have sausages
in mv pocket, and that dog has boon trying
to grab them ever since I came upon nie
premises !”
Our readers may Judge of ihe effect such
an announcement would have ala funeral.
Mrs. Partington's Visit to the “Tent
ed Field.”—“fiid the guard present arms to
you, Mrs. Partington V’ asked a commissary
as he met her at ihe entrance of the marquee.
“You mean Ihe cenlury?”said she smiling.
“I have heard so much about Ihe tainted
field, that 1 believe I could deplore an attach
ment inio line myself, and secure them as
well as an officer. You asked- me if the
guard presented arms. He didn’t, but a
sweet liitle man with an epilepsy on his shoul
der and a smile on his face, did,'and asked
me iff wouldn’t go inm a tent and smile. [
told him that we could both smile as well ou’-
side, when he politely touched his chateau
and left me.” L
The commissary presented a hard wooden
stool upon which she reposed herself.
“This is one of the seats of war, [
pose?” said she. “Oh, what a hard lota j
soldier is subjected to! I don’t wonder a'i
mile at the hardening influence of a soldier 1 ?
life. What is that for?” asked she, as the
noise of a cannon saluted her ear. “I hope
they ain't firing on my account.” There
was a solicitude in her lone as she spoke, and
she was informed that it was only the Gover
nor, who had just arrived upon the field.—
“Dear me 1” said, she,' “how cruel it is to
make the old gentleman come away down
here, when he is so feeble he has to take his
staff with him wherever he goes. She was
so affected at the idea, that she had to lake a
few drops of white winn to restore her equi
librium, and to counteract the dust from the'
“tainted field.” —Boston Post.
A Miser’s Praver.— rThe following sin
gular prayer was made by John Ward, of
Hackney, England. The document, which
was found in Ward’s own hand-writing,
might be called the miser’s prayer.. It is one
of the examples on record of men combining
in themselves the utmost fanaticism, with the
total absence of anything like feeling:
“O, Lord, thou knowest that I have nine
estates in the city of London, and likewise
that I have lately purchased an estate in fee
simple in the county of Essex ; I beseech
thee to preserve the two counties of Middlesex
and Essex from fire and earthquakes; and
as I have a mortgage in Hertfordshire, f beg
of thee to have an eye of compassion on that
county, and for the rest of the counties thou
mavesl deal with them as thou art pletsel.
0, Lord, enable the bmks to answer all their
bills and make my deb's on good men. Give
a prosperous voyage and return to the Mer
maid sloop, because I have insured it; and
as thou hast said the days of the wicked are
but short, I trust in thee that thou wilt not
forget thy promise, as I have purchased an
estate in reversion, which wi!) be mine upon
the dea'h of thati profligate young man, Sir
1. L. Keep my friends from sinking, and
preserve me from thieves and house-break
ers ; and make nil my servants so honest
and faithful that they may attend to mv in
lerestSj and never cheat me out of my
properly, night or day.
Three Good Reasons. — Mr. Brandy
toddy’s three reasons for not drinking are
very characteristic of that gentleman. ‘-Take
somethin® to drink ?’’ said his friend to him
one day. “No, thank you,’’ replied Mr. li.
“No! why not?” inquired his friend in great
amazement. “In the first place,” returned
Mr. Brandy-toddy, “I am Secretary ol a
temperance soc.jiy that meets to day, and I
must preserve my temperance character. In
the second place this is the anniversary of
my father’s death, and out of-respect to him
I have promised never to drink on this day.
And in the third place, 1 have just'taken
something.
Beware of con'racting friendship with sur
geons. When >on most require their servi
rfS w;' 1 m -yli .V v *»* sr>’».
Rates of Advertising.
3 months. 6 months. 12 mo’s