Rates of Advertising.' Advertisements will be charged SI per square of lines, for one, or three insertions, and 25 fourlee eryaa bsequent insertion. AH advertise. inf leas than fourteen lines considered an a m enlB 01 following rates will be charged tor Half-Yearly and_ yearly advertising:— Qear er g months. 6 months. 12 mo’s 114 lines,) - S 2 50 S 4 50 S 6 00 Square, Ct .. 4 00 6 00 8 00 BSqoaWr ’. .10 00 15 00 20 00 J column, ■ _ , .18 00 30 00 40 00 '“'““.“■’rtiMmsats not having the number of in- A Girted open them, will be kept in until or 'ertT,f„rr«i charged accordingly. Handbills, BUl,and Letter Heads,and all Jobbing done in country establishments, neatly and promptly. Justices', Consta- Mef’aod other BLANKS, constantly on hand and jyTHE LADIES OF WELLSBORO, ffl, turned out in such numbers, notwithstanding the utifatoraUe character of the weather, to listen to my lecture on “Bums and his Poetry." • JOHN MACINTOSH. Ladies, thank you for your pains. Which, despite the mirk and rains. Von took to hear my humble praise Of him who sang the sweetest lays That e'er were penned in any age* In future when his burning page, 1 shall rehearse, your kindly grace, Though every feeling line, I’ll trace; ’Twill mingle with the poet's glow, And make his numbers sweeter flow. The record of the kindly act, Secure in memory, intact, Inviolable will remain; Von, ladies, plunging through the rain; Through the rain, and through the mire; A scene, a bard might well inspire— Ah, how my soul in sadness mourns. It cannot thank like poet Burns; Wdlsboro, Oct. 14th, 1858. •Let no one profanely apply the Doctor's remarks about “Poets who write for the village papers,” to himself.—[Ed. Agitator. A Sketch of the War of 1812. BV A DOWN EASTER. In ihe dark shadow of Fisher’s Island, gloomy, sullen and grim, lay like huge mon sters upon (he wa(ers, (he British fleet, “the mistress of (he Seas.” The broad red cross of St, George floated from their mast heads, proclaiming them en emies of our country. Long had they thus lain in the inglorious inactivity of a blockad ing squadron, crushing, it is true, the little commerce between the seaport towns of Con necticut, and the cities of New York and Boston, but in reality putting themselves to far more trouble and inconvenience than their enemies. The commander of the British Squadron, Sir Thomas M. Hardy, as loyal and brave a man as ever trod the quarter deck of an English Seventy-fopr, grew heartily tired of this monotonous life, and wished that some cursed Yankee Privateer or Commodore wo’d make an attempt to run the blockade. While he was thus thinking, a party of Yankees on shore, wearied and exasperated by the continual and petty annoyances of the English fleet, were laying a plan to decoy a patty of them ashore. Capt. Sim Haley, as true, beloved and patriotic a Yankee, as, ever played a trick on an unwary foe, accordingljy loaded a large boat with a lot of old boxes filled with some worthless articles, and manning it with a few trusty comrades, pulled down the river Mys tic into the Sound, as if determined to give the British Squadron ihe slip and run their goods to Now York. Com. Hardy seeing the boat, instantly gave orders to midshipman Chambers to man ihe barge and capture the Yankee rebels. His orders were promptly and cheerfully obeyed, for his men were glad of the opportunity to have a brush with the Americans. Capi. Sim and his men prelending not to see the movements of ihe enemy held stead ily on their course, laughing to themselves meanwhile thamthe bait which they had thrown out was so quickly swallowed. The Cntish excited by the hope of a prize pulled vigorously at the oars, and Ihe barge gained rapidly on Capt. Sim's boat. Suddenly the Americans seemed for’ the firk lime to be come aware of the approach of an enemy, "tih loud cries they bent'to their oars but « thoroughly frightened did they seem, that '■ere was no sort of time kept by the rowers, a. j 6 ® 501 oP w hich was to retard," rather than ad to the progress of the boat. iThey how ever managed to gel the boat headed toward mouth of the Mystic. The British were ard on their heels and gained rapidly on' Americans had gradually recov- | e rc ™ their fright and now were lustily work. The distance between the boats ow was kept about the same, each party m g al lke !o P of its strength, his h le dar ' n g Captain Sirri'ordered of Uplo 3 cerla ' n point on the west side who 6 ■ n 'lf r j a^ out one mile from the Sound, i an / e 3 ha “ keen arranged that he should the h ,! Sem .|; arkin g. 'he boat’s crew ran over ’ , e ® rll ' s h by this time had also ba J 3 1 Ending, and no sooner had their i|J? 8 kee B ra 'ed 'he sandy shore, than Pecmd D fi 0U r 3 sudden mosl "nex- M«ti 3re , , m . a volunteer companyi from Ansnn » v ‘ c inity, composed of Captains with r’ Ve l7’^ a ley, Crary and Denison, 2 S eU w 'f. heeler - Pa '-r! Hyde arid Will haok r* 11 ? t3 ' ot h era secreted behind the Eolrnnr 1 j PUrpoae ‘ The British, startled 'he till ° r hy the sudden apparition and like r,„ ° . severa ' of their comrades, leaped Y°gs into the water. m idshinm° ne r.r 3S ' ePt to man 'he barge but sirord l,i. an Chambers, who stood with drawn Wh 6 * sl3lue ’ n 'he stern sheets. 'W„„ e , aCOm, ? 3nde d 10 surrender, he with rne n f, nm e3S ,° 3 brave general, ordered his sw<j r, 1 "? wa,e f and delivered up his ttete mn ; la ! ,n g secured the prisoners, litters which ih 6 ° r tbe dead an( l wounded, on HisonerlL* 6 ? borne . to ,he vi,la 8 e - The low gq ere termed in the centre of a hol '"livenir/ 6 3nd marc hed into Mystic to the and the. i Blrain3 oP 'he “Rogue’s March,” cniz eos ° uts oP 'he hardy and patriotic Th * O*"* i°y on shore were echoed told Cn m tj Bl *? ,0 ‘he British fleet, which *hipman L/[ dy *^ e f ale of his brave mid fcs heel he » |,' s , bar 8 e ’ 8 crew. ‘Turning on ' D ‘o the n»K- , . ? own 'ho companion way hke a kinp m his flag ship ; there, seated and inn™** l 'h rone i muttered curses oi about the revenge he would THE AGITATOR. BeDote* to tfyt Sytensrtou of tfce s&vt* of Jfmtrom ana tfte Spread of 3&eaUBfi 2&cfovnt, WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A. WRONG UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE, YOL. V. yet have on these ‘infernal tricky Yankees !' Revenge being the sweeteslthing that Com. Hardy could ihijik or dream of, he was de termined to revenge himself if possible, and on ihe morning of the 10th of the same month, he ordered bis fleet up to bombard the town of Stoniogton. For two days and nights the fleet poured into the town shot and shell of every description, but with very little effect. The bomb brig Terror look her sta tion in the line nearest the town, and made the night light as day with the blaze of rock ets, while her shot and shell hissed like mad dened vipers through the air, the floating bat teries and line of battle ships making every thing tremble with their thunder, but the hearts of those Yankee boys that manned the guns on shore. They, behind breastworks hastily thrown up, headed by this same daring Capl. Sims, assisted by Captains Dean and Deni son, with hosts of other brave fellows at their guns on those hot days, like blacksmiths at their forges, firing with (such precision and taking such deadly aim that hundreds were killejd. and wounded on board the enemy’s fleet! while the bomb brig Terror was made a perfect wreck, so much so, when ordered by the Commodore to retreat, she dare nnt lake lime to weigh her anchor, but slipped her cable and floated off with the tide, amidst the shouts and cheers of the warlike host on shore. All the ships in the line getting the worst of it, a general retreat was ordered. With shot holes plugged up and pumps working, the monster ships moved slowly and sluggish ly off, like a wounded lion to his lair. They again dropped their anchors under the dark shadows of the Island, where a “Few short prayers were said. O’er proud St. George’s dead.” And the sea received their mangled corses to be swallowed up by the sharks of the ocean. The surgeons were busy with saw and knife among the wounded, and the sailors were busy repairing the shattered ships, while the brave Commodore cursed himself and the way he revenged himself on those “infernal tricky Yankees.” // Respectable Society. We heard a man, otherwise intelligent enough, lately sneer at another, “because” said he, “one does not see him in respectable Society !” The speaker did not mean, how ever, that the person he affected to look down upon was immoral, but merely that his circle of intimates were not composed of the fash ionable or the rich. This motion of what constitutes respecta ble society is quite a favorite one with that class of individuals whom Thackery has so significantly called “snobs.” Empty pretence always making its own characteristics a standard by which it strives to measure the respectability of persons at large. In a com munity of mere money getters, wealth is the teat of respectability. Among the proud, narrow minded, effete nobility of the Fau bourg St. German, respectability depends upon being descendants from ancestors who have married their cousins for so many cen turies that neither muscle nor brains are left any longer to degenerate descendants. With the dandy officers who constitute a con siderable portion of the American Navy, respeciabilities consist in having sponged on “Uncle Sam,” in wearing gilt buttons, and in jilting tailors. Every conceited fool thinks himself, in! like way, the only man really weighty, the only person who is respectable. But true respectability depends on no such adventitious circumstances. To be respec table is to bo worthy of respect; and he de serves respect who has most virtue. The humblest man who bravely does his duty, is more, worthy of respect, is more truly respectable, than the covetous millionaire among his money bags, or the arrogant mon arch upon his throne. The fine lady who backbites her neighbor is less worthy of respect than an honest washerwoman. The profligate noble, though he may wear a dozen orders at his button hole, is not often as respectable as the shoe-black who cleans his bools. That which is called “the world” exalts the one and despises (he other, but it does not make them respectable according to the real meaning of that word. Their respectability is but a hollow sham, as they themselves frequently feel; and those who worship them bow down to a Fetisch,a thing of feathers and tinsel. The selfish-idle drone who wastes life in his own gratification, and disipates the fortune of his progeny, is not and cannot be respectable; but the bard working, self-denying father, who wears out his life to bring up his children is, though he be a day laborer. Nothing can make Dives fit to lay on Abraham’s bosom while Lazarus is welcomed there, even with the sores the dogs have licked. The false views of life, which would meas ure respectability by a conventional stand ard, is totally at variance with our republican institutions. It creates an “imperium in im periofor while the law declares all citizens equal, it erects a social standard which en deavors to ignore that great truth. The coarse, brutish, knavish, profligate criminal —in short, all who fall short of their duty to themselves and their fellow men—are those who are not “respectableand this, whether they are poor. While those who live hon estly, and strive to do what good they can, constitute in reality the respectable class, ir respective of the fact whether they eat with silver forks or steel ones. I In' all ranks, those who are gentle apd uncomplaining, too candid to intrigue, too delicate to encroach, sutler much. They suffer long, and are kind; verily, they have their reward. -WELLSBORO, TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. OCTOBER 28, 1858. “Rain, rain, rain; will it never slop thought little Amy Howard, as she pressed her small face close to the window paoe, in a vain attempt to see further round the cor nei, whence sister Anna must come from school. It was not one of those rainy days that every one loves, when the drops fall steadily and cheerily, and one feels sure they are completing their mission as rapidly as possible, in order to treat us to a rainbow.— It was a cheerless, mizzly, drizzly, rainy day, that seemed unwilling to leave cloudland, and bent upon making everybody sympathize with bis ill humor. Poor little Amy looked the embodiment of forlornity, as she watched the long, pendu lous branches of the elms swing hither and (hither in an uncomfortable manner. She wondered wbat made the rain fall, and if the pool little doves felt it through their glossy feathers; but she knew it was quite useless to ask her mother, for she would only tell her not to ask so many questions, and to keep out of her way. Mrs. Howard loved her child, but she was a bustling, energetic woman, whose chief care was to keep a tidy and well-ordered house; and she did not understand the delicate na ture of the little Amy, who had been from in fancy a feeble child, and stood sadly in need of loving and tender sympathy. She was not beautiful, but to those who loved her there was a depth of love in her little heart, which only needed sunbeams to make it bear sweet est blossoms, and light up her dark face with the beauty of contentment. This had been such a sad day. In the morning she had climbed into a chair, to watch her mother’s operations at the pastry table, when an unlucky motion of her hand sent a dish of dour to whiten the'floor, calling forth an impatient reprimand from the mother.— Choking back a rising sob, she left the table, and essayed to play with her blocks, building with them a wall to confloe While Lilly, her kitten. But kitty, impatient at such close im prisonment, made vigorous efforts to free herself, and as she succeeded, scattered the blocks in every direction. “What ails my pet 7” asked Anna, as she took the child in her lap, and parting the hairs from her pale face, remarked the look of weariness in her eyes. “Nothing,’’ answered Amy, “only my head aches so, I can’t play without troubling moth er.” Anna sighed, for she knew the little heart had sore trials ; so far into the dusky eve, she sal with Amy’s head upon her shoulder, telling of the olden time, when the fairies danced by the moonlight upon the green sward, when every hill and dale, every river and tiny streamlet, was haunted by unearthly beings. Then she told of heaven, made glo rious by God and the angels, and as Amy listened, her eyes beamed with delight, and she exclaimed, raising her head with anima tion : “Anna, 1 must go there, I must—is it such along ways'!” Suddenly a shadow dark ened her face, as she said sadly, “Perhaps, though, I should gel in the way of the angels —I am so careless I” “Never, darling,” said the sister, clasping more closely the little form, which, in an al most prophetic sense, was too surely fading away. At midnight there were hurried steps and anxious questions, as the household was awa kened by Anna’s cry that Amy was very ill. After days of watching, a weeping group surrounded the bedside of the dying child. “Mother,” said AmyVlitlle voice, “I did not mean to get in your way so much. I hope I shan’t trouble the angels—good bye, mother, I am going to sleep.” And little Amy was dead. . Long years has grass grown on Amy’s grave, and harebells have rung iheir merry chimes above it, while the birds sing requi ems in the shadowing trees ; but nightly, as she lays her head upon the pillow, Mrs. How ard sees the pale, weary (ace of her child, and hears a sweet voice say, “Mother, I did not mean to get in the way.” Not all in vain was the lesson taught by those dying lips. Seeds of gentleness were sown in the mother’s heart, which, watered with the tears of repentance, gave promise of an abundant harvest of peace. Scientific PAKADOXEs.-The water which drowns us as a fluent stream, can be walked upon as ice. The bullet which when fired from a musket, carries death, will be harm, less if ground to dust before being fired.— The crystalized part of oil of roses, so grate ful in its fragrance—a solid at ordinary tern pdratures, though readily volatile—is a com pound substance, containing exactly the same elements, and exactly the same proportions as the gas with which we light our streets. The lea which we drink daily, with benefit and with pleasure, produces palpitations, ner vous tremblings and even paralysis, if taken in excess; yet the peculiar organic agents called theine, to which tea owes its qualities, (as theine, not as tea) without any apprecia ble effect. The water which will allay our burning thurst, augments it when congealed into snow ; so that Captain Ross declares the natives of the Arlic regions “prefer-enduring the utmost extremity of thirst rather than at tempt to remove it by eating snow.” But if the snow be melted it becomes drinkable wa ter. Nevertheless, although if melted before entering the mouth, it assuages thirst like other water, when melted in the mouth it has the opposite effect. To render this paradox the more striking, we have only to remember that ice, which melts more slowly in the mouth, is very efficient iq allaying thirst.— Blackwood'*. Always In the Way. Extraordinary Adventure. Louis the Fifteenth dispatched into Ger many a confidential person on a mission of importance; on this gentleman’s returning post, with four servants, night surprised him in a poor hamlet, where there was not even an ale bouse. He asked, could he lodge at the manor one night, and was answered that it had been forsaken for some time; that only a farmer was there by daylight, whose house stood apart from (be manor, which was haunted by spirits (hat came again and beat people. The traveler said that he was not afraid of spirits, and to show that he was not, bis attendants should .remain in the hamlet, and that he would go alone to the manor house, where he would be more than a match for any spirits that visited there— that he had heard much of the departed coming to again, and he had long had curi osity to see some of them. He established himself at the manor house —had a good fire lighted—and as he did not intend going to bed, had pipes and tobacco brought, with wine ; he also had on the ta ble two brace of loaded pistols. About mid night he heard a dreadful rattling of chains, and saw a mao of large stature, who beck oned and made a sign for his coming to him. The gentleman placed two pistols in his belt, put the third in his pocket, and look the fourth in one hand and the candle in the other. He then followed the phantom, who going down the stairs, crossed the court into the passage. But when the gentleman was at the end of the passage his footing failed, and he slipped down a trap door. He ob served, through an ill-jointed partition, be tween him and the cellar, that he was in the power of several men, who were deliberating whether they should kill him. He also learned by their conversation, that they were coiners. He raised his voice and desired leave to speak to them. This was granted. “Gentlemen,” said he, “my coming hither shows my want of good sense and discretion, but must convince you that 1 am a man of honor, for a scoundrel is generally a coward. I promise upon honor all secrecy respecting this adventure. Avoid murdering me that never intended to hurt you. Consider the consequences of putting me to death ; I have upon me dispatches which I am to deliver into the King of France’s hands; four of my servants are now in the neighboring hamlet. Depend upon it such a strict search will be made to ascertain my fate that it must be discovered.” The coiners resolved to lake his word ; and they swore him to tell frightful stories about his adventure in the manor. He said, the next day, that he had seen enough to frighten a man to death ; no one could doubt the truth, when "the fact was warranted by one chatacter. This was continued for twelve years ; after that period, when the gentleman was at his country seat with some friends, he was informed that a man with two horses that he led, waited on the bridge, and desired to speak to him, and that he could not be persuaded to come nearer. When the gen tleman appeared, accompanied by his friends, the stranger called out: “Stop, sir, I have but a word with you ; those to whom you promised, twelve years ago, not to publish what you knew regard ing them, are obliged to you for the obser vance of this secret; and now they discharge you from your promise. They have got a competency, and are no longer in the king dom, but before they would allow me to fol low them, they engaged me to beg your ac ceptance of two horses and here I leave them." The man, who had lied the two horses to a tree, setting spurs to his horse, went off so rapidly that they instantly lost sight of him. Then the hero of the story related to his friends what had happened to him. An American October. —The gifted Prentice indulges in a very poetic description of October, characterizing it as a season for poets and painters to revel in. Every lover of the beautiful in Nature will respond affirm atively to the sentiment that “October is the very time to enjoy the animated crowds of (own life, and it is the lime of times to admire God’s marvels in the country, as he works his wondrous change from summer to winter and scatters over the face of nature a rain bow vail to conceal the effects of‘decay’s ef facing fingers,’ as he would strew forget-me nots over the grave of old flowers. October may be sharp and even cold to us, but we love it for its laughing skies, itsgorgeons sun sets, and the bracing lone of its morning sal utations. It paints the cheek of beauty to make it look more like the rose, and it ani mates the step of manhood as if by a new infusion of natural vigor. We may in the springtime have flirted with coquettish April, with flowers in her hair and tresses flowing in the vernal breeze—but October, with her queenly gait, wreathed with the purple glo ries of the vine, her train borne by Exercise and Sport—clothed in rare and dazzling tints —her eye all animation and her step all grace—she is our maturer love, and we are so attached to her (hat when we die we want to die with her. 'Die as the leaves do, that fall in October.’ Beautiful in the’ country, where fields and forests glow like many col ored fires, and even beautiful in the city, which providentially is “open at the top” to let in the glories of these cerulean skies and the crisp breeze of early autumn, till ‘the benediction of the covering heavens falls like dew.” When a man gets to the top of the hill by honesty, he deserves to be taken by the neck and hurled down again, if he’s ashamed to turn about and look at the lowly road along which once traveled. ©ommmUcatior Perils of the Sea. Mb. Editor ; The Atlantic ' 'elegraph seenjs destined to be a magnificen failure.— This is rather mortyfying after al: >ur glori fication over it. To say nothing bf the illu minations in city and country, lUct speeches and hurrahs; only think of th| Trinity Church celebration in New York—|ne chimes rung, the procession of clergyman in their robes, the “Te Deum” sung, the airmen de livered by a high church dignitaryl and the earnest thanksgiving there and at many other religious meetings; thanks for tlie glorious success of what after all has not succeeded. Meanwhile the poor Telegraph lies (as Simpkin Sodger says) “at the bou|m of the ocean, like a immense angte-dog.pl It still, (to quote further from the same distinguished author,) “lies low, and keeps dktJc."' We fear the “grate string” will never of much use to any one. I.; ; When the shock of disappoiutnjent is over, perhaps we may find a wiser way |o dispose of our surplus dollars hereafter. IjiLong be fore the ocean Telegraph was talked of, we had many beautiful steam vessels hying be tween the eastern and western worlds. We then managed to exist with our “three or four days later from Europe” and we fore bably can still, and for the conveyanceiof p issen gers and freight these steamers will always be needed. But “they who go dc|vn to the sea in ships” and “have business; in great waters” encounter fearful perils pfl“fire and flood.” Literally any one crossinklhe ocean now, takes “his life in his Often, far oftener than is right or necessafji, we who remain on land are shocked by|(hl news of some awful disaster at sea, like (kpat which befel the ill-fated Austria. ?! | Human life is precious beyond Valuation. “All that a man hath will hegive!fp| his life.” And yet life is recklessly and criitiiifally was ted, in all these terrible accidents at sea, not .to mention those on land. Vessels pave late ly been built partially secured against sinking from a sudden leak. If there arejafay inven tions which can render them fireproof or partially so, would it not be to adopt them 7 -Do not mercy and justice demand that they shall be adopted 7 ■ l;| Vibgikia. 1 1;? 7 ll r Difference in Wivesj,; Two weaks since we were ricli jg in the cars, when a gentleman came and spoke to a lady directly in front of us who; was sea ted beside a sickly man, whom;we thought was her husband. The conversant n turned upon the health of her companion, who was evidently a consumptive. ; i “Last winter,” said she, “I wen, to Kan sas wjih him; the winter befote|l we spent in Florida, and now we are think ng of re moving to Minnesota, for the benefit of his health.” ; j! The gentleman expressed some thoughts relative to her hardships in thusgpjng. away from her home and friends, and leveling so much abroad. j||- “O !” she replied, “I do nnuminktfrat at all; if he can only regain his hermits I like New England better than any ofaer'part of the country, for it is home; but ijim willing to live anywhere for his sake.”- jl; Her husband made no reply asijhe heard these words, but volumes were'i'n his eyes. The incident, however, did not particularly impress us until we slopped at la station about a half hour afterwards, Tl IS a friend entered the car aud look a seat I: ) our side. He was troubled with a brondhiai 'and lung difficulty, of some years standing, jin course of conversation we recommended a I residence in a certain Western State, to wh cb he re plied in substance i “I should have been there thi<!g months ago if my wife had been willing to go.— But all her friends are here in | Massachu setts, and no consideration could; nduce her to leave for a residence so far away.” We looked at once.at the strange woman whose conversation we cited. “N;oble wife,” we said. “One of a thousand, doubtless, in the spirit of self-denial for her; husband’s sake.” There is certainly a great differ ence between these two wives.- —Happy Home. j i, Outset in Life.— Who that lhas ever seen the young about to embark ojn! the great sea of the “world” can have faile'd to mark the elasticity of spirit with which |fhey enter on the new stage of existence ? ]Tbe present is regarded as nothing, the past| ‘is looked upon as a watch of the night, and the future alone is esteemed the end and object of life. Age lakes its pleasures from “memory youth centres its joys in the hope.of the future ; philosophy, which belongs! neither to the young nor the old exclusively, has regard to the present, and sobers its visions of what is to come by the experience ofj what has already gone before. The youngj have no experience, and time alone must! ;be their monitor. The silver hairs, and the:furrowed brow, and the tottering step, must! ‘all come ere ever we fully realize the unwelpome truth that, in our schemes and prospects of enjoy ment, distance alone has lent enchantment to the view, that under the fairest! pleasures there have ever lurked insidious ihprns, and that the gorgeous shapes that have floated before us in golden magnificence 1 have been but a monster soap, bubble, which t that first breath of air shattered into annihilation. No life can bo well ended that! has not been well spent; and what life haplbeen well spent that has had no purpose,-Jthat has accomplished no object—that has realized no hope ? : ! Terms of Publication. THE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is poll luned every Thursday Morning, and mailed to sab scribers at the very reasonable price of Onk Dot, las per annnm, invariably in advance. Itisinlend ed. to notify every subscriber when the term for which be baa paid shall have expired, by the stamp —“Time Oat,” on the margin of the last paper The paper will then be stopped until a further ro mittance be received. By this arrangement no mat* can be brought in debt to the printer. Tbk Agitator is the Official Paper of the Coaq ty, with a large and'steadily increasing circulation reaching into nearly every neighborhood in the County. It is sent free of pottage to any Post-office within the county limits, and to those living within the limits,but whose mostconvenieotpoatoSce may be in an adjoining County, Business Cards, not exceeding 5 lines,paper In cluded, $4 per year. Nf). 18. • i'l. TEACHER’S COLUMN. Tort Agitator. •* Tic education Ibrms the common mind; Just aa the twig is bent the trae's inclined.'’ In opening a series of articles on Ibis sub ject, it is well to begin correctly—to begin with fixing definitely what id to be understood by the term Education, as it will constantly appear in the ..series. The importance of thus fixing the. use of ibis term, so frequent ,iu the mouths and on the pens of the multi tude, will be apparent on a moment’s re flection upon the looseness and vagueness which has of late obtained in its use. It is now very fashionable to tell us about the education of the eye, the ear, the mus cles, &c. Now this is all sheer nonsebse. We might with equal propriety talk of edu eating the liver, the spleen, the lungs, the arteries, the capillaries, the veins, and so on to the end of the catalogue of Ihp organisms in the entire body. Neither is any part of the body, nor all of the body, subject to edu cation, It is subject to development in functional energy—so is each of its several distinct parts ; but the augmentation of nor mal power in any organ is no more a mailer of education than is the metamorphosis of the wilt}, biller, unedible potato, into the “loaf dry from the ground, ready for cook ing”—a mere mailer of vegetable cultivation ; the former is animal cultivation, entire or in part —nothing else. Intelligent spirit only is susceptible to edu cation ; and all intelligent spirit, not abso lutely and infinitely perfect, is susceptible of education, in a greater or less degree—at least, all intelligent spirit in connection with bodies. Of this we have ample proof, in the numerous experiments on the lower animals —insects, fishes, birds, reptiles, quadrupeds, and quadrumana,all having been made to do wonders through educational training. In the supposed education of the various organs of sense and motion—the ear, the eye, &c., —there may be, and generally is, a two-fold effect produced—an increased sus ceptibility to impressions through the proper medium and from the proper stimuli, but especially a greater spiritual power and deli cacy, in noticing the impressions on the organs and in controlling the organs them selves. The latter is a phenomenon of edu cation ; the former is not, but is merely a phenomenon of the cultivation of organic vi tality, through which cultivation, in accor dance with an organic law, a greater amount of substance is animated into the structural, lissure, and the nervous excitability of the structure is augmented. I have been (he more particular upon the above subject, because of the extensive prev alence of the dogma, as it appears in lectures and disquisitions of sot disant scientific lectures and writers on “Physical Educa tion nay more, because it has taken a seat in the chair of legal authority, and comds yearly ; in the form of requisitions upon academies, seminaries,and colleges, for in formation respecting kind and amount of “Physical Education,’’ employed in these said institutions, and in the form of Reports from these same institutions, enumerating “ Ventilation ” and “ Gymnastic and Calls thenic Exercises as a response to these calls from headquarters! Let no one sup pose therefore, that the shedding of a little ink on this subject at the outset, may not have use; for, though others may use the term as they deem it convenient. 1 shall use it to convey no such absurdity. If, in the course of these articles, any one should find the expression, "the education of the entire man," let him remember, that the intelligent spirit of man— the man par excellens— 'Only, is meant. At a proper time, the reciprocity between the body and the spirit, as also be tween the external world and the internal spirit, will profitably form material for a caapter of two in the development of our plan. Till then, let it rest. , Ira Sayles. Alfred Centre, Sept. 20th, 1858. VV esters Simplicity. —ln a wild western neighborhood, where the sound of the church going bell had never been heard, notice was given’that the Rev. A , a distinguished Presbyterian divine, would preach on a cer tain day. The natives, who consisted mainly of those hardy pioneers who have preceded civiliza tion, came in crowds to hear him. They had an indistinct idea that 'preachin' was something to be heard, and all intended to hear it. . After the service had begun a raw-boned hunter with rifle in hand and all the accou trements of the chase about him, entered and took the only vacant seat—a nail heg without either head.- The current of the preacher’s thoughts led him into a description of heaven and its inhabitants. With great power he had drawn a picture of the habitation of the blessed, and was assigning each of the patri archs, prophets and apostles his appropriate place. His Calvinisfic tendencies led him to reserve the apostle Paul for his climacteric. With his eye fixed on the highest point, and with upward gesture that seemed to be direct ed to the loftiest altitude of the heavenly pla ces, he sard : - “And where, my brethren, shall we seat the great Apostle of the Gentiles?—where [ say, shall we place the Apostle Paul?” Then pausing, to give the imagination time to reach the elevation designed for the Apos. lie, he fixed his eyes on our hero of the rifle. He, thinking the address personal, rose in stanlly, and replied, “If he can't do any better he can lake my seat.” It is needles to say that thtft clinia* was never ttached. Education,
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