fSl —"Terms of Publication. lIF TIO GA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub . ' Thursday Morning, and mailed to sub lUncd e j every reasonable price of Ons Doi»- scribersa Variably in advance. Itisintend ui perannanM" aobg » iber wflen the term for td , -°i has paid shall bare ex P ired ' b 7 tbe slam P w |iidi ne on t ij e m a r gin of the last paper. —“ Time r will then be stopped until a further re- Tbe paP“ ,„„„; v ed. By this arrangement no man “'ThrSt indebtlo the printer. ca n be iTOR ; B the Official Paper of the Conn k*e and steadily increasing circulation ly,wilha » nEar iy eV ery neighborhood in the reaching > seßl j re e of postage to any Post-office Con" 1 )’- ‘ o[ miy limits, and to those living within willin'“ w ),ose mostconvenientpostoffice may bn' n j ncs j Cards, not eiceeding 5 lines, paper in. cltyS, H per _^ ==^ J WHEN J WOULD DIB. BY JIEETA MELQROVK. 1 would not die in Winter, When snows are falling round; They would so coldly cover My new made, frozen mound. Friends could not bend above me, \ And with affection’s care, Plant violets blue upon my grave, Or scatter roses there. J would not die in Spring time, When tuneful birds are near. And rare and thrilling madrigals Fall on the listening ear. Oh no! for then my life is sweet; I dearly love to trace, The impress of God’s migbty works In nature’s changing face. 1 would not die in Summer, When flowers are blooming round, r And the bending grain stands thickly I Upon the thirsty ground. ;; When harvest fields are ripening-ftst, And harvest songs are heard, } Richer than rarest, joyful notes 01 sweetest singing birds. Rat in sad, sober Anthran, When leaves are brown and sere; When the deep winds breathe a requiem For the waning, passing year. When bright things fade from earth away Without one murmuring sigh ; I too would lay mo quiet down. And calmly, peaceful die. Covington, Fa, The Grand mistake. Every person who has at any time passed upTchoupitoulas street, near St. Mary’s mar lei, sa>s the N. O. Picayune , must have ob served ihe pair of tall steamboat chimneys, elevated over the door in front of Ldng, Al drich & Smith’s sheet iron and stove estab lishment. The other night two drunken flat iaatmen came round the corner of St. Jo seph’s street, arm in arm with a wide lurch, and brought up against a fence. “Halloa! halloa I halloa!” said one of our hero staring with all his eyes at the chim nejs across ihe street—“ Simon my boy, stick her in fast for shore, or we’ll be run over— halloa! there ahead! stranger, give her a lick back—you’ll be over us !” Simon rolled up his eyes, and thought the siats were sparks from the chimneys, while the fire doors below remained closed. He happened to be grasping a loose board of the fete, and thinking it was his oar, he com menced rowing with an energy peculiar to men when terror-stricken in drink. '■Slop! stop! stop ! Simon,” said the other again. “Keep cool ! keep cool! darn me, 1 believe she’s only wooding after all 1” Without any joke at all, the two boatmen were confusedly blue, with but the fainfest glimmering of sense left, and just sight suffi cient to see and know the steamboat chim neys towering with llieir broad while tops right in from of them. As if to complete the illusion, a large steamboal came puffing down ihe tiver, close in shore, at the moment, with a loud i chult! ichuh ! ickuh ! that at once confirmed ihe lerrors of the benighted navi gators. “Look out there,” bellowed Simon, with Asperate and shrieking energy of tone. — “Back her, stranger! hack her! or by thun der you’ll be over us !” They both now pulled off their coals in rapid haste, and went lo work at the loose tends, rowing away at them ready to break far backs or strain their shoulder blades. “What in reason’s name are you doing fare men I' 1 said an astnnished passer-by, who slopped to observe ihese extraordinary pioceedmgs. “Lead a hand!” roared Simon and his com- PWion and his companion wilh one vnice ; all-fired wrath, dont you see the steamboat n Ebl over us ? There by thunder the thing’s B ’Jt—here we no !” i ® k, , * section ol ihe old fence had been sway wnh their united efforts —a motion which E )' imagined was the rocking of the flat- WJI m the steamboat swell—and now gave ra y with.a crash, falling inward and pilch- D 8 the two bacchanalians into a puddle of a| ertn a lumber yard. There our inforra -0 elt them, to find their way out as soon *!, ere damp and cold enough lo gel 1 /hey were thoroughly convinced fair boat was smashed, and that they on« or l^e bale back parlor of Davy 7 s ’ h , ' < l-i Tor ihe last words they uttered, ~m-v S ra sped hands in the puddle-were, Hfzekiah ; good bye, Hezekiah.” ood bye, Simon—good bye.” Eic°" BCE ' —There is in every human ire'f 5 J rav|n 8 f° r home-felt pleasures, a de “ady Co[ nniunion and interchange of So . on Wll b En me kindred spirit, who (eels in our thoughts and feelings i,j e *" e w p r ld beside, and for this, the n ' verse offers no substitute ; yet ri nc J are ffnod, by education, habits and nd 10 e njoy connubial happiness ! log man y do not consider that in choos a]ovmpfloer bf 0 > rational and durable U o f ° can onl y bo expected, with a per b;litie3'.' f 6 a “ e ’ similarity of tastes and Bd er ,.J ? v 'ffnous principles and of good retty facj 10 ® - They are captivated with a Hn ae 1 °S r neable person, and winning U ’ or , vv bal is equally common in mod cr Se . , * ll ' 1 'b o shining qualities of the Hi c jl ; ® nJer looks, and tales of first love, ?d : ih P „V e[l ° n ! y firsl fbffy.) nre exchan ito m ‘ &nc y ‘boy are in love, and rush adfj n j ’’ l ™ on y. like the horse-into battle, B bonds nf’ W j en '* ‘ s 100 l a,e > ‘hat ‘be silk ilk at . w "i° c b are iron bands, fastened 'ound! Afi lee ' ! l * lat B lva _ the sharpest icome wen Sr r 8 S * lort acquaintance, they ■im.’: ry °. eac h other. The force of 's gold apnea- 8 ' 0 ?-,'® Cxhausled > and gb'lter- Mhe eDiov P ml , p e m,r y clay, but a clog Etil ° ,J stoad i" l °- lhose who travel no this toa u to conjugal felicity. THE AGITATOR Debotcir to t&e 3Zxitnnion of t&e &ttn of JFmtrow t&e Spread of ©calt&fi Reform* 1 WHILE THESE SHALL BE A WHONO UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. YOL. V. Taste in Dress, Yesterday we stood looking at a flower bed, into which some really exquisite roses, besides pansies, mignonette, English daises, verbenas, and olhe‘r blossoms, had been trans planted. Kate, our Irish cook, and a beauli ful girl, by the way, was hanging out the Monday’s washing to dry, over a plat of rich new grass,green and velvety, and delightful to the eyes and feet. She sympathized wiih our admiration of the grass, and the delicate, soul-enchanting roses ; “but this,” said she, “is the puniest flower of them all, ( think and she pointed out a sprig of the scarlet bloom of the fish geranium. It was the gay est, and therefore handsomest to her—she re quired not the yearning holiness of the lily, nor the grace and love inspiring perfumes of the roses and pansies. We would not give one half-expanded rose-bud, with the blush diffusing itself outward from its odorous heart, for a basket-full of fish-geraniums. But which of us was right ? Often, when we have been thinking upon dress, as a sub ject for study, to be cultivated as a fine art, we have gone to nature, who is the mother of iarl, fot lessons. We have seen that she min gles all colors with effects which are truly harmonious ; and why should we be more arbitrary than she in her adornment of the flowers, when we would prescribe the hues and combinations for a lady’s toilette ? The “puritan pansy” puts on a yellow vest with its purple velvet robe ; the queenly tulips are gorgeous with streaks of red and yellow, gay enough for an Indian squaw; the florist la bors Tor rainbow effects in his pet dahlias; the poppy daunts her scarlet looped petticoat, and the peony shakes out her dozen of crim son jupes; the morning-glory Irims her blue robe with a scarf of pink; while one and all, without exception, find a mantle of green becoming. Nature tries all kinds of experi ments with the materials at her command, and her success is always certain. If nothing in nature is ugly, then is nothing in art ugly when it simply copies nature; and it cannot truly be said (though it is often asserted) that good taste limits the colors of the toilette, and (bat drab, or black, or white, slightly relieved by some trimming in harmony, not in contrast, is ihe only really elegant cos tume. If a dahlia can look well in purple, black, and yellow, then why not a lady 1 If a maiden fastens ihe flounces of her azure ball-dress with pink garlands, she is only copying Ihe pattern of the morning-glories— and would she ask to be more modest and tasteful than ihey ? Still, there seems lo be such a thing as the correspondence of attire with the complexion height, style, and years. The fragile lily of the valley does not depend from a mullen stock, nor is the superb japonica nestled amid the moss and grass with the violet. Therefore ladies may well' and profoundly study, which of all the various patterns and hues best assimilate with the character of each ; and therefore it is that we enter our protest against the blind adoption of any and every color and shape which fashion may dictate. Upon the brow of fashion is written, change ; she is a chameleon ; yet there is no woman (almost none) but will pronounce her beautiful, whatever aspect she assumes ; and the aspect is hideous and ludicrous. The woman who adored her elegance in large bonnets, coat-sleeves, and slender skirts, now turn from the memory with uplifted hands. The name of fashion is caprice, and of her followers is folly. It is well that nature knows her own mind better; else, some sea sons we should have all the flowers of the garden, regardless of what was intended for them, dressed up in the queenly bell-shaped robe and snowy trail of the calla ; again we should have the hollyhock and peonies all squeezed into dainty ladyslippers ; and anon, the violets and primroses smothered in the mantle of the dahlias. Let word come over from Paris that green is lo be worn by Mistress Fashion, and straight way every sallow-face woman be comes “sickbed o’er wilh the pale cast” of jaundice. O let the mandate be blue, and no face is so florid but that it can afford a deeper tint for the sake of being in the fashion.— No woman is 100 short for plaids or too tall for stripes,.when they are fashionable—nor too thick for short waists, nor too thin for long ones. It is imposible to arrive at any fixed stand ard of taste in dress; for it is a curious fact that, what our eyes have become accustomed 10, that we regard as becoming. Most new fashion displease when first seen, and become more charming as wo grow familiar with them—we regret to change; yet after the change is made, it grows more beautiful than the last. Studying the art of dress is like ga zing into a whirlpool of bubbling waters— the longer it is continued, the more confused we grow. We would only suggest, that ,>vhile fashion is not neglected entirely, prop riety, bdeomingness, style, and place, be also respected. —A Lady in Cosmopolitan Art Journal. Beadtifui.. —“Callous indeed must be the heart of him who can stand by a little grave side and not have the holiest emotions of his soul awakened by thoughts of that purity and joy which belong alone to God and Heaven ; for the mule preacher at his feet tells of life ended without a strain ; and sure if this be vouchsafed to mortality, how much purer and holier must be the spiritual land enlight ened by the aun of infinite goodness, whence emanated the soul of that brief sojournment among us?” A letolaller the other day, asked a neigh bor if he were not inclined to the temperance society, when he replied : “Yes, for when he saw liquor his mouth watered.” WELLSBORO., TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. OCTOBER 7, 1858. A Scrap for Lovers of Molasses. VVe copy the following from a long and in teresting article entitled, “Rambles in Suroi am,” which appeared in the last number of Leslie's Magazine; “W-e went to the boiling-house,' and saw the molasses dipped out of the cistern and put into barrels. The molasses that runs from the sugar barrels is conducted by a gut ter into the cistern, which is under ground and swarms with roaches and rats, many of whom are found dead in the molasses, by which they are preserved from putrefaction. I could not help thinking that the country would be an elysium for Chioiameo, for they might feast here on their favorite dish—rats abundantly, and molasses cured rats into the bargain. I do not know if the molasses which is imported inlo this country is used for anything else besides distilling rum. It is certainly not fit for table use, for beside the above mentioned abominations, it is han dled by the negroes in such a filthy manner, that a description of it will disgust everybody with.the same. The molasses is dipped out of the cislern with large copper spoons, to which are attached long handles, but when the majority is removed, these spoons cannot be employed any more, on account of the quantity of sugar which has settled at or near the bottom, imparting a great toughness to Ihe molasses. Some negroes have to gel down into it, dipping it out with large gourds, and it reaches often over their knees. Clean liness is not to be observed, and their feel and legs are generally covered with jiggers and other sores. If our delicate ladies and gentlemen only had an idea of the manner in which our imported niceties are bandied, they would surely abstain from the use of them. I once saw a dog fall into a copper in which cane juice was boiling intensely ; he was nearly done when the negroes succeeded in getting him out. It happens sometimes that a negro who sits on the mason work into which the coppers are imbedded, slips inlo the foaming syrup, while dozing, and is boiled to death instantly. In neither case is the syrup thrown away, for it will granulate all the same, and nobody is the wiser for it. Earthquake Panic In London. There were (in 1750) wild prophecies and alarming convulsions of nature such as England had yet little known. The first days in February were as sultry as the hot test days in June; thunder and lightning were frequent; and on the eighth of the month the first shock of an earthquake was fell throughout London and Westminster. On the same day in the next month the in habitants were awakened from their slumbers by their pillows rising, the bells ringing, and a strange rumbling as of carriage wheels. It was said that Sir Isaac Newton had fore told that there would be a great change at this lime, and had expressed a wish that he could live to see the phenomenon. As the second shock had occurred exactly a month after the first, it was affirmed that earth quakes were now to be periodical in Eng land ; and a mad life-guardsman prophesied that the next shock, which was punctually to take place on the Bth of April, would swal low up the metropolis. The panic now be came general. On the day before that of the anticipated calamity, the roads were crowded with the carriages of the fashiona ble and the wealthy, hastening out of the de voted capital. Seven hundred and thirty coaches passed Hyde Park Corner that morning. Women made themselves flannel wrappers, which they called earthquake gowns, in order to sit up all night in the open air. Not a bed could be procured in Wind sor. All the lanes and fields in neigh borhood of London were blocked up with carriages, carts and other vehicles, full of people of all ranks, waiting with trembling anxiety until the dreadful hour had passed. They then returned, laughing and exulting to town, to resume, as though their lives would never terminate, the same pleasures and the same occupations in which they had for one moment been disturbed. —Life and Time of Edmund Burke. Tears. —There is a sacredness in teats- They are not the mark of weakness, but power. They speak more eloquence than ten thousand tongues. They are the messa ges of overwhelming grief, of deep contri tion, of unspeakable love. If there were wanting any argument to prove that man were not mortal, I would look for it in the strong conclusive emotions of the breast, when the soul has been deeply agitated; when the fountain ol feeling is rising, and when tears are gushing forth in crystal streams. O, speak not harshly of the strick en one—weeping in silence! Break not the solemnity by rude laughter, or intrusive foot steps. Despise not woman’s tears —they are what make her'an angel. Scoff not if the stern heart of manhood is sometimes melted in sympathy—they are what help to elevate him above the brute. I love to see tears of affliction. They are painful tokens, but still most holy. There is pleasure in tears an awful pleasure. If there were none no earth to shed a tear for me, I should loth to live ; and if no one might weep over my grave, I could never die in peace. “I wish to procure the Biography of Pol lock,” said a student to the bookseller at the corner of Water street, Boston,—“We do not- have it sir,” was the reply.—“ Can you inform me where I can obtain it ?”—“I can not, sir; but 1 dure say you will find it in tho “Course of Time.” The best action we never recompense and the worst are seldom chastised. The Salt Lake of Utah. Like a blue tinted mirror reflecting the sunshine, we remarked the lake about seventy five miles to tbe northwest. It is now about seventy miles long from north lo south, and thirty miles wide from east to west. It once filled, and most probably formed Ihe entire “great basin,” as it is termed, extending 500 miles from north to south, and 850 miles from east to west, hemmed in by the Sierra Nevada mountains on the east and the Goose Creek and Humboldt ranges on the west.— Mountains were then jagged islands, ravines and strait, weeping hollows and gulf and shores of this vast and silent sea. It has shrunk nway to its present dimensions, and is the immense reservoir inlo which all the streams and rivers of the “basin” pour their melted sorrows. It has no apparent outlet, although grad ually diminishing, apparently more rapidly than can be accounted for by mere evapora tion. Ma'ny fla's, blackened with an incrustation of dazzling salt crystals, were covered with water when the Mormons first went there, and their flat boat was pushed easily over long stretches of now baking and cracked soil. Its bottom is very flat, however, and a very slight increase of water would again submerge miles of now exposed surface.— The density of Ihe water varies necessarily in different season from quantities of fresh water pouring down into it. It averages from 1.16 lo 1.18 of specific gravity. It is Ihe strongest natural brine in the word hold ing in solution over 32 per cent of different salts. Its dark, sluggish waves forcibly recall the Dead Sea to the mind of the gazer, and were it not that this is 400 feet above, and that lies 1000 feet below the level of the ocean, and this is completely locked in by abrupt and surrounded mountains, while that rolls over the “Cities of the plain,” it would baeasy to fancy ones self in Palestine, and in that scene of human corruption and Di vine vengeance. The water is extremely buoyant, and it occasions a singular feeling to be unable to sink in it, and very difficult to swim through it. Its water produces immediale strangulation, excessive smarting in the eyes, nostrils and ears, and on com ing out convert even negroes into crystalized white. Numerous salt boilers are erected on the shores ; from four quarts of water they obtain nearly one gallon of clear dry salt. Nature in her great labralory, however, produces thousands of bushels of coarse crystals, and deposits them on the shore. Teams and wagons come from from the cities and shovel it up, and it sells often as high as fifty cents per 100 pounds. Oliver Cromwell’s Head. A correspondent, of the New York Ex press, who is now traveling in England, has seen the head of the Great Protector, of which he gives the following description : “Before leaving England, I had an op portunity of seeing a great.curiosity, a relic of antiquity, which few Englishmen have seen. You will be surprised, and perhaps incredulous, when I say I have seen the head of Oliver Cromwell—not the mere skull, but the head entire, and in a state of remarkable preservation. Its history is au thentic, and there is a verbal and historical evidence to place the thing beyond cavil. Cromwell died at Ha-pnplon Court in 1658, giving the strongest evidence of his religious convictions, and of his sincerity as a Chris tian. After an imposing funeral pageant, the body having been embalmed, he was buried at Westminster Abbey. On the restoration of the Stuarts, he was taken up and hung at Tyburn. Afterward his head was cut off, a pike driven up through the neck and skull, and exposed on Westminster Hall. It re mained there a long while, until, by some vi olence, the pike was broken, and the head thrown down. It was picked up by a soldier and concealed, and afterward conveyed to some friend, who kept it carefully for years. Through a succession of families, which can easily be traced, it has come into the.pos session of ihe daughter of Hon. Mr. Wilkin son, ex-member of Parliament from Buck ingham and Broomley. It was at the resi dence of this gentleman that I saw the head ; and his daughter,-a lady of fine manners and great culture, exhibited it to Rev. Mr. Verrell, the pastor of the Bromley Dissenting Chapel, and myself. “This head of Cromwell is almost entire. The fiesh is black and sunken, but the fea tures are nearly perfect, the hair is still re maining, and even the large wart over one of the eyes—such being a distinctive maik on his face—is yet perfectly visible.” A priest of Basse Bretagne, finding his du ties somewhat arduous, particularly the num ber of his confessing penitents, said from the pulpit one Sunday. “Brethren, to avoid confusion at the con fessional this week, I will on Monday con fess the liars, on Tuesday the thieves, Wed nesday the gamblers, Thursday the drunk ards, Friday the women of bad life, and Sat urday the libertines.” Strange to relate, nobody come that week to confess their sins. He that is proud of his riches is a fool; because if he is exalted above h. • cents for every subsequent insertion. All advertise* ments of less titan fourteen tines considered as a sqnate. The following rales will bo cjtarged lor Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—' 1 3 months, 6 months. 12 ino’O Square, (14 lines,) . $2 50 $4 SO 86 0(1 2Squares,- ... 4 00 6 00 8 00 J column, .... 10 00 15 00 20 00 column,- . . . -18 00 30 00 40 00 All advertisements not having the number of in sertions marked upon them, will be kept in until or. dcred oat, and charged accordingly. Fosters, Handbills, Bill,and Better 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. NU 10. Mrs. B. —“Oh don't talk 1 she don’t neigh bor much with anybody. She’aagreal read er, and I guess she feels cather stuck up because she’s been to school more’n lhe rest of us. She’s mighty-' delicate too; cant do her own work, and keeps it great girl a slallin’ and slasbin’ round, wastin’ as much as her wages come to, Til be ibound. They say to be sure, ihat the doclots say, Miss Harris is realty, alive, and has got to be careful, but she rides out more’n twicsvlo my once, and I’ll bet one half of her sickness is hysterics, and t’other half laziness.” iiAgitntor. ie Calls. “Massy sakes I if ’taint four o'clock. I must go and get lea.” After Tea.— Mrs, P.—“ Well, Miss Ba ker, I must be agoin.” Mrs. B.—“Oh ! not-yet, must you V* Mrs. P,—“Yes, I guess I must. We have ten cows to milk, and the men folks think it’s a dreadful thing if f aim rapnd at milkin’ time. Let’s see, have I got all my work. Here’s my knillin’, and my measurin’ slocking, and ihat skein of blue yarn. (1 didn’t knit up alt I had wound, alter all.) Well do come over to our house just as soon as you can.” Mrs. B.—“I shall, before harvesting. Good night.” , Verily, social intercourse is a “grea'l in stitution.” Aunt Betsy. Decay in Fruit Trees. We have often heard the practice recom mended of driving nails into- decaying fruit trees to restore their vigor. But we have never seen the result set forth so strikingly as in the following from the Southern Plan ter : A singular fact and one worthy of being re corded, was mentioned to us a few da\s since by Alexander duke of Albermarle. lie sta led that whilst at a neighbor’s bis attention was called to a peach orchard, every tree in which had been totally destroyed, by the ra vages of the worm, with the exception of three, and these were the most thrifty and .flourishing peach trees he ever saw. The only cause of their superority known to his host was an experiment made in consequence of observing that those parts of worm ealio" limber into which nails were driven were Gen erally sound. When his trees were about a year old, he bad selected three of them, and driven a ten penny nail through the body, as near the ground as possible. Whilst the balance of his orchard had gradually failed and Anally yielded entirely to the ravages of the worms, those three selected at random, treated in precisely the same manner, with the exception of the nailing, had always been vigorous and healthy, furnishing him with the greatest profusion of the most luscious fruit. It is supposed that the salt of iron afforded by the nail is offensive to the worm, whilst it is harmless, or perhaps even bene ficial to the tree. A chemical writer upon this subject says ; “The oxydation or rusting of the iron by the sap, evolves ammonia, which as the sap rises will of course impregnate every part of the foliage, and piove 100 severe a dose for the delicate palate of intruding insect.” This writer recommends driving half a dozen nails into the trunk.. Several experiments of this kind have resulted successfully. “Asking Pa.” —l am not pleased with n paragraph which I read, to-day, in a pnphr of extensive influence and high moral lone. This exceptionable paragraph plainly inti mates that if “pa” refuses bis consent to his daughter’s marrying the man she loves, then she is justified in marrying without this “con sent,” at any sacrifice ! I Is that girl capable of securing to hus band a life of happiness, who can so far for get or ignore her moral obligations to her pa rent as to outrage his feelings when he is most solicitous for her welfare? She who fails to see her duty to her father will soon lose keenness of vision in reference to her husband’s happiness, if the circum stances which effect his happines conflict with her inclinations. No matter what the civil law says about it, her obligations to re»ard her parent’s feelings is as binding now ns it was ten years previous. And the man who could counsel the violation of those feelings, lover though he be, is not a]safe depository for woman’s heart. We have known many act on the sug gestions which this paragraph gives, and in after life either domestic bitterness and dis trust turned their lives to gall, or trial and misfortune quenched the fire of their hearth, till they wished the grave to cover their woes. Then they cried in agony, “Thy judgment is just—thy laws, O God, are righteous !” Then they remembered their sin, and their advice was—“ Wait: if it is good for you to marry that one, your father will after a time see it and consent. But never marry in opi position to his expressed wish.” Girls, lis ten I Be not deceived. Memory.—Overbnrthen not thy memory to make so faithful a servant a slave. Rf. member Allas was weary. Have as much reason as a camel, so rise when thou hn.-l thy full load. Memory, like a purse, if it be over full that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it. Take heed of a gluttonous cu riosity to feed on many things, lest the gree diness of the appetite of thy memory spoil the digestion thereof. Spoil not thy memory with thine own jealousy, nor make it by sus pecting it. How canst thou find'that true which thou wilt not trust ? Marshal thy no. lions into a handsome method. One will carry twice more weight, thrust and picked up io bundles, than when it lies Hgtotyqrdjy flapping about bis shoulders, Second thoughts arc the adopted chtldreq of experience, r