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jSS.****™- ■ -
dreaming
fhii changing and uncertain life
Is Hke a troubled dream;
And in the fitfoi, feverish strife .
Things are not as they seem,
for joys and pleasures quickly fade,
As die the Summer flowers:
Leaving the heart in deeper shade
For those few thoughtless hours.
And sorrows, tho’ they fill the soul
With grief—the eyes with tears,
WiH give us strength and self-control.
for ell the coming years;
Will teach ua by the very smart
That piereea thro’ our own,
To wound no more the breaking heart,
Nor live for ttlf alone.
Slitl would the dream be all noblest,
But for one constant friend;
Hope whispers of the coming rest
And joys that will not end.
She shows us 'mid oar doubts and fears
The home we call our own,
And bids us see thro' smiles and tears,
“The rainbow round the throne.”
For the Agitator.
The Tear of an Infant.
[TRANSLATED FROM TOE FRENCH.]
Fancy yourself seated in the farge parley
of an actor in one of the theatres of Paris.
From six o’clock till midnight are assembled
actors, directors, authors, dramatists and
journalists. There one ‘ converses—not in
order to slander, but to converse. Among
friends, none are constrained, but the bright
ttream of thought has uninterrupted How-aa
the warmth of the heart giving freedom'to
ibe tongue.
In one of these assemblages, after hastily
renewing the news of the day, the conversa
tion took a more metaphysical turd. "One
cinnot cure himself of fear,” said one. “Na
ture has created us daring, or timid, and her
decrees we cannot reverse ; so, also, were
(recreated repulsive, or attractive, cold, or
ardent in our attachments ; likewise, either
inclined to virtue or to vice. Hence, the fal
lacy of the idea that men are what education
tniltes them.” ■
“Come,’’ said one of the auditors, “what
you say stivers of materialism, and that of
the most grievous character. If humanity
had been thus made, it would be naught but
a pest. It would be like pulling a stone to
(he neck, to bind one, and then casting him
in the river. Is it that you believe, for ex
ample, that he who has faults, vices, or pas
sions, cannoi correcLlhem 1”
“Of faults perhaps, or habits contracted ,
he may ; bul of vices, never. I defy you lo
show me a convened miser, for instance.”
“There is a converted miser among us,”
cried one of the most distinguished of the
dramatists, whose unbounded benevolence is
proverbial til! the present day.
“You have ever been a miser?” cried one.
“Yes, the more I had the more miserly I
became, Bul a circumstance occurred which
has radically cured me of this infirmity.”
“And what has effected such a marvelous
cure?”
“A tear of an infant."
Here the attention was redoubled, and all
eagerly gathered around the convert.
“It was in 1834,” said he, “I came to give
lo the theatre, ope of my pieces, which to
this day has,brought me the greatest sum of
ntouey, and pardon my.egotism-when I say
it, ms won no smalf renown. I received two
letters at me same time. One announced to
me that the great expense attendant upon the
representation of my drama, and other diffi
culties attending, demanded my persona! at
tendance immediately. The other ran as
fellows,
‘Sir.- The wife of your deceased brother
•nd her little daughter are dying in poverty.
A little assistance from you may arrest death
sad restore them to health. 'Signed,
f Db. Lambert.’
"I crushed the letter with an angry ges
lute. Meanwhile the proposition relative to
the theatre demanded an immediate response.
i' e v A* t 0 m y sister-in-law, I thought of
, er ° at little, that is, I tried to banish the
ou £ltt of her, whenever her suffering con
'tton presented itself to my mind. Some
)ws before, my brother, since lost at sea,
iDr ° rinin S me °1" b'* alliance with the
“Sa'er of a poor fisherman whose only
ow ry was a good heart and beautiful eyes.
m 'Saamly responded to him in no mild
Moer, and severely upbraided him for thus
la s Unn >indful of his pecuniary interests.
oreionne, the subject of my displeasure,
31 Was her name (became acquainted
j o ' s entiments in regard to her, and bc
® t ra 'l’ er a P r °ud, independent nature,,
roomed with fine sensibilities, she very nat
bk conce ' ve d 8 sort of contempt and dis
feurU me ’ BO muc l' so > 'hat when she
loth | se^a P°° r i helpless widow, reduced
raik ° West dre S s poverty, she resolved
SO( j er i 0 die than appeal to me for sympathy
re I • Hut her firmness relaxed, and her
crib r' 011 wa r ered > as B * le saw ,n litHo
(• ere ’ r ° m day re day, the patient little suf.
»ho was becoming daily more and more
iip ale d' an d fast passing away.
«Dd , relonne > as w ® have said, was proud,
omnipotence of a mother’s love
* )arr ‘ ers °f her reserve, and she
Wofid -i DOl herself to wriie to me, but lo
ant h • * * rile c ' rcomsta < > ces to her attend-
She Ma C ' an ’ atlt * solicit, at least, his advice.
»ith ° t **' m extreme poverty, and
his o* • ? ce he saw that ■ the true cause of
0 e f*'[ eal ' a illness was merely insufficiency
*aaißh ™ was Dna ble to ministeno their
• but at last obtained permission to ap
-10 his° m ? s y* n P a, hies. AS I had not replied
feiterJnl- * c a PP eat > in his simplicity he
«o h'wself that 1 was hastening thither
w hich . W|D B B °f love, and the first words with
n DB Seeled me were these : 'God will
YOL. V.
recompense you for this good action. You
have coroe just in time to cheat ihe grave of
its victim. Good souls are always prompt.
God will reward you.’
This eulogium fell upon my ears and stung
my heart like- the language of bitter irony,
and yet I had not the courage to tell him that
it was Unmerited, for what man ever declined
praise! My first visit which I had decided
should be only to the theatre, was directed lo
ray sister-in-law. I (bund her in a miserable
hovel, everything indicative of the keenest
want. In a crib; was lying a sweet little
child, of a peculiarly interesting appearance.
-Fine intelligence was imprinted on her phys
iognomy, and a resigned gravity such as
habitual suffering alone can create, seemed
(o have settled upon her innocent features,
throwing a subdued shade over her youthful
heart.
For tho Agitator.
“Silently 1 contemplated her, and began to
fear lest my heart might not prove impervious
to the quiet, though powerful pleading of her
large, dark eyes and emaciated figure. Nev
er, till now, had l comprehended the attract
ive power of infancy—the irresistable fasci
nation which sways even the most obsti
nate, whose hearts seem closed to all the gen
tler emotions which love prompts and which
brighten life’s pathway.
“My first impression was to clasp the little
child to my uearl; but sordid avarice quickly
suggested to me a horrid thought: I said,
‘lf-I allow myself to be moved, I am lost;
for it will create for me new duties without
number. There will be constant draughts
upon my bank, and it may continue for
years.’
“The thought of thus becoming involved
in expenses, struck me with terror, and I re
coiled, as one would who saw a frightful
abyss open in bis path.
"The good doctor stood stupefied. He
could not divine the cause of my abstraction,
and thought very naturally, that my silence
■was attributable to painful emotions, and my
fright fij, the apparent struggle between life
and death. This supreme selfishness, con
flicting with the gentler promptings of (he
soul; this hesitation of avarice in the face of
suffering, seemed to him to be (he workings
of the tender heart, and with a melancholy
smile upon his lips, he approached me and
taking my hand he soothingly said:
“ 'Sir, the sight of this extreme misery
touches you ; but medicine must always fa
miliarize itself with the aspect of disease be
fore it tries to cure. You are the only phy
sician for these poor creatures, whose suffer
ing alone results from an insufficiency of food.
Draw nearer.’
VIXQIKIA.
“He conducted me to a pallet of straw,
where such a sight met my gazd that the
cold drops of sweat fell from my forehead,
and shame with its piercing fangs seemed to
tear my very heart, whilst conscience was
sealing my doom.
“When Bretohne perceived us so near her
she made an effort to rise. There was a
complex expression on her countenance —
that of sadness blended with pride, the for
mer, however, predominating. She steadily
regarded me, but seemed resolved lo solicit
no favors. After a painful pause and with
much emotion, she raised her thin, trembling
hand, and pointed to her daughter, ‘Behold
an angel of Heaven who will soon be left
motherless I’
“This brief bul touching appeal did not
conquer me. My hardness had only fear of
the child, and carefully guarding myself, 1
responded coolly, ‘Why have you such fear
ful apprehensions? You are (young. You
have a goad physician, and you need not
despair.’ The kind doctor then added, ‘And
you have Just had a brother arrive whose hap
piness will be to make ypu forget your past
griefs by restoring your comforts lo you.—
Count upon him. He will be a father lo your
child.’
“1 added not a word. 1 was horrified, and
I only questioned with myself how I could
plan an escape and lopever close my eyes on
the scene.
Oh, worship of Gold I Thou art rife with
infamies and shame of the blackest dye I
“Bul the charming little child steadily re
garded me, rather with interest and surprise
than affright. She modestly approached me
and look my hand from that of the doctor’s,
and pointing me lo the side of her mother’s
bed, said, in a voice the sweetest in the world,
‘Please sit down there, for now you are too
high, and I cannot embrace you if you don’t
hold me.’
“1 sealed myself and she sprang upon my
knees. Bretonne, seeing this, raised her
eyes to Heaven and seemed to pray. As for
me, 1 fell that the crisis bad arrived, and
again 1 tried lo steel my heart for the ordeal
which too plainly I saw approaching. I said
to myself, ‘I owe nothing lo this woman and
child, and am not under the slightest shade
of an obligation to relieve them. The future
is vast and full of peril, and to sacrifice would
be imprudence and folly. 1 1 tried lobe firm,
and knitting my- brow , I regarded the child.
She in turn regarded me. Her childish con
fidence and innocent gaze were destined to
loosen the mighty glacier from my heart, and
as a last resort she threw her little arms
around my neck aod-aaitf in a clear, winning
voice, ■ ■
“ ‘Do you wish lo be my papa, and have
me love you ? You look- so much like my
dear, dead papa, who lies under the waves.
He bad a wicked air just like you have, but
he was so good. He could make great eyes
just like you, and I was never afraid of bins,
Ateyou so-good I—You !’
“There was such a sWeetj childish grace in
this appeal, that 1 trembled from very fear,
lest she might find thd avenues to my heart,
and I'rudely unclasped her arms from around
my neck, and without saying a word was
THE AGITATOR.
3edote9 to tfje Sfctcn»{<w of tfce area of iFreettom anU tije Spread of ffieaXtfcg a&eforntl
■WHILE THEBE SHALL BE A WEONO UNSIGHTED, AND UNTIL “ MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE.
WELLSBORO. TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. NOVEMBER 4, 1858.
about to place her upon the floor, when I read
in her countenance such a doleful expression
of surprise and grief, that involuntarily I re
tained her one moment when I felt a hot tear
drop fall burning on my hand ; yea, 1 felt it
in my neart. It was enough. A sudden re
vulsion came over me, and my avarice loom
ed up before me in all its hateful hideousness.
I blushed at myself.
“Without longer wishing to combat with
natural impulses, I was content to be sensible
of them, and obey their gentle promptings.
Henceforth I would let my heart guide me,
and placing my hand on the head of the child,
I vowed before ils mother, and before God,
that no child should be.cherished more ten
derly than would I cherish the little one be
fore me.
“When Bretonoe heard me thus speak, a
si range expression of bewilderment and joy
sat upon her countenance. She tried to
speak, but could not, and her bosom only
heaved with emotions conflicting within.—
The doctor was alarmed; for he thought the
strength of her joy too great for her weak
stale. Soon, However she breathed more free
ly, and began to acknowledge that she had
wronged me so much by entertaining unkind
thoughts toward me.
, “I interrupted her with some acknowledg
ments on my own part, when the good doc
tor wisely ordered silence, as her present
state would not permit excitement.
I deposited with the doctor a sum of mon
ey sufficient to supply every want, and has
tened to attend to my other business. * *
“Returning I found them happily located
in a cozy retreat, where every want was an
ticipated and provided for. Bretonne met
me with an animated expression, and in the
happiness of the moment I misinterpreted the
ruddy glow of her cheeks and the increased
brilliancy of her eyes as indications of re
turning health. But when I heard her hectic
cough, I was led to analyze the rose upon
her cheek, and cooscious fear with its pale
fingers traced upon my heart the painjul truth
that the ‘root thereof was death.’ ‘ j
“Two months flew swiftly by. Yes, swift
ly, for I had learned to count lime by heart
throbs.
I had allowed my heart to follow its nobler
impulses, and expand in the radiant sunlight
of a common humanity. I loved to breathe
this new atmosphere, and to be near the gen
tle being to whom 1 considered myself in
debted lor all ray newly found joys. That
tear I precious pearl I which fell from her
eyes and which my soul received—which has
been to it as the drop of dew to the opening
flower.
“My gray locks and forty years seemed to
have been entirely forgotten by both mother
and child, as the former, in order to gratify
a desire expressed by the latter, assented that
I should indeed be her father. But'alas! our
hopes were only kindled to be quenched;
for scarcely were the words uttered, ere dis
appointment folded her sable wings over the
bright dream.
“A heavenly serenity overspread her coun
tenance, and a smile, such as wreathe the
lips of immortals played around her pale lips,
and feeling her hand growjepld in mine, too
truly I felt that she was passing away.
“She remained silent a moment, and then
reviving, said, ‘Brother, I thank you format
ing me so happy. Oh! so happy. You
will ever love my orphan child I —you will’
; here she was unable to proceed.
“I was not terrified, but -I was awed into
silence by the majesty of the scene.
“Presently reviving, again she said, —
'Brother, this is not the darkness of night,
but the aurora of a beautiful day, the vesti
bule of eternity, and the portal of Heaven
and pressing my band she added, '1 leave
you here. Adieu.’ ”
Lawrenceville. Altaic.
Minister’s Walk and Conversation. —
The editor of the North Carolina Presbyte
rian, who is at the Virginia Springs, has
heard a good story of Speaker Orr and the
Rev. Dr. W., of Lexington. Not long since,
the story goes, they were both at the Warm
Springs, and met in a public room of the ho
tel. They hud been silting with other com
pany, and after a while the doctor rose and
walked across the room with the usual limp
in his gait. Mr. Orr immediately recognized
him, and asked if he were not the chaplain
at the University of Virginia at such a time,
naming the year. The doctor replied that
he was. “I was there,” said Mr. Orr,.“a
student at the University, and I knew you by
your limp.” “Well,” said the doctor, “it
seems that my limping made a deeper im
pression on you than my preaching." The
joke placed Mr. Orr in an awkward predica
ment, and most men would have been unable
to extricate themselves, but he replied with
ready wit“Ah, doctor, it is the highest
compliment, we can pay a minister to say he
is known by his walk rather than by his con
versation.
Somebody writes from an American vessel
in the Chinese waters, that a worthy mission
ary had scattered several copies of the Ten
Commandments on the shore. The next day
they were sent back with the request that
they might be distributed among the French
apd English, for the tracts contained admira
ble doctrines, and these people evidently much
needed them.
The Forensic “We.” —Barristers have
a ludicrous habit of identifying themselves
with their clients by speaking in the plural
number. “Centlemen' of the Jury,” said a
luminary of the western circuit, “at the mo
ment the policeman says he saw us at thp
tap, | will prove that we 'were locked up in
the station house, in a slate of intoxication."
The Innkeeper’s Story.
ST HU. HARRIET MDIXT.
About seventeen years after the close of
the revolutionary war, a stranger arrived at
a principal (own in one of our eastern States,
.and on being shown to a respectable public
house, informed the landlord, whoso name
was Jedson, that it was his intention to. re
main there several days. There was nothing*
extraordinary in the arrival of a stranger in
•the town, and yet the landlord of the Inn
before mentioned, could not help regarding
this stranger with peculiar attention. He was
rather inclined towards - the' vale of years,
and evidently in’ill health, and there was
something in his countenance and in his air,
rhe forcibly drew the attention of the'worthy
Jedson towards him, and which seemed to
recal the far off remembrance of other times
and other scenes; he communicated his
feelings to his wife, and added, “if it were
possible, Mary, I should say that I have seen
this stranger before, and on the very night
when we first saw our poor Eva 1” “But if
it is not possible,” echoed (he good Mrs.
Jedson, “he would have known you at once ;
besides such a wretch would not have been
permitted to cumber the earth so long. It is
only a fancy, dear husband; and for pity’s
sake don’t speak of it to poor Eva—it will
put her in mind of all her troubles !’’ The
good man promised caution—and went to
take one more look at the stranger.
Woman’s curiosity is proverbial; and the
excellent wife of the innkeeper was not with
out her share; but a stronger motive than
mere idle curiosity, impelled her to feign an
excuse for entering the parlor appointed for
the stranger, and she forthwith followed her
good man. Long and intense was the scru
tiny with which the usually modest and quiet
dame regarded the elegant looking guest,
who reclined apparently buried in thought,
in an arm chair which occupied a recess near
the fire place. The stranger looked up, met
her ardent gaze, and started. Seventeen
years had not wrought so great a change in
the person of the landlady as might have
been expected ; for an innocent and active
life had aided a constitution naturally robust,
and she still appeared much the same as she
had fourteen years back. The stranger felt
he had seen her before : he passed his hand
over his flushed face, and addressed to her
some trivial question. The lone of her voice
in answering seemed to strike upon his ear
as one remembered, but he said nothing.
“We have seen him before, Josiah,” said
the landlady to her husband, when alone.
“He has not yet met the punishment due to
his misdeeds. What shall we say 1 some
thing, we most do J” ..
“It is indeed him,” returned Jedson;
“what can have brought him here! it would
kill Eva to see him—luckily, she is confined
by a cold up stairs—but to-morrow Fanny
returns. He shall see Fanny ; she is the
image of what her mother was when he first
saw her; if he is the person we suppose, he
must be struck with the likeness. My mind
misgives me strongly, but 1 think he has only
come here to die.”
“I hope he will render justice before he
goes to bis great account,” returned the
zealous matron.
“He will, wife, he will!” replied her hus
band ; “there is that in his face which be
speaks a broken spirit; he has a contrite
heart, depend upon it; and if it is him, he
will do justice as far as he cau.”
The next morning the stranger was much
indisposed, and Fanny, who had returned
from an excursion, was seat by her grand
mother, as she called Mrs. Jedson, lo his
apartment with some refreshment. The
guest started as she entered, and as she
drew near he became dreadfully agitated.
Fanny was alarmed, but unwilling to leave
him thus, remained riveted to the spot where
she stood. At length the invalid, conquering
his emotion, made an effort lo receive the re
freshment from the hand of the unconcious
cause of his agitation, and as if impelled by
some irresistible motive, inquired her name.
“Fanny, sir, Fanny Jedson,” answered lhe
agitated girl, ns blpshing, find courlesying,
she withdrew.
“It is her very image,” murmured the
guest; “who is this gir-1? how came she
here? so beautiful ! so fair, to conjure up re
membrances so painful! recalling a form
never to be forgotten.”
In a few moments he had summoned the
landlord, who was prepared by Fanny’s
strange agitation, to hear interrogations
which he was resolved to answer in his own
way. The gentleman requested Jedson to
be seated, said be was lonely and should like
a little chat, and after a few preliminary re
marks, enquired of his companion, if the
pretty girl he had just left was his daughter
or his grand daughter.
“She is neither,” answered the old man ;
“but I love her as much as if she was.”
“But she bears your name,” resumed the
stranger.
“She does," returned the innkeeper, "be
cause, the poor thing 1 she has no other.
However, it is an honest name, and never
was coupled with a treacherous deed; so
perhaps it suits the child as well as another.”
“She is then an adopted child ?” enquired
the invalid, in a bumble voice.
“Why, sir,” replied Jedson, “I'll tell you
the story, and how I came by the girl, and
if you do not join with me in saying that
her father was a villain, you will be the first
who has differed from me in that opinion.
But as I said before, I’ll tell you the story.
“It was about the time when tba British
were about leaving Boston—l did not live
here theft, sir—l kept an htn on the Boston
road ,* efld adtpewhere about that time, ope
evening, a chaise drove into our yard, aqd
an officer, sir, a British officer alighted, and
handed out a young lady ; a sweet, pretty
creature; she. appeared melancholy, and
somehow my wife and I both- thought that
she did not look like an officer’s? lady, but
just like one of our New England young
women, so modest'and unassuming. Well,
the officer called for a room and.ja sppper,
and desired that bis horse mighfl be taken
cafe -oT, as they were to go on directly.—
Curiosity, you know, sir, is natural I|o women ;
people say, to New England worsen in par
ticular. However, the yonng woman who
went into the stranger’s room to lay the cloth,
and attend on the table, said, whed| she came
out, that she had looked sharp at! the lady,
and that she kept crying all the] time, and
never tasted a morsel of supper.J My wife_
who is as stout as a lion in the cause of her
sex could not rest a minute; she was afraid
the poor girl was unhappy ; perhaps going
away against her will; and speakjto her she
would ! So she took an opportunity when
■the officer went out, to go the room
where the young lady was, to asklherif any
thing troubled her. The poor young thing
said she was grieved at the thoughts of leav
ing her home. “Then why do you go, my
dear?” inquired roy good woman, “is the
gentleman a relation of yours ?” }‘He is my
husband,” said the girl; and shel looked up
so innocent and quiet, that my wife was com
forted about her, and contented herself with
giving her all the consolation she qpuld, about
leaving her home, since she was'jgbing with
her husband; and my good woman contrived
to speak a few words with the gentleman,
akd begged him to lake great care of such a
gentlecrealure; and he promised he would.
On going away the young lady clatne to my
wife and said softly, “If you hear any one
speak of Eva Hayward, tell (hem she has
gone to England with her husband.” My
wi/e promised she would.. They drove off,
sir, anci we never expected to see them again;
but my good spouse could never forge.t the
circumstance, and often spoke of the young
girl, and said her mind misgave ter that she
was not happy. Well, about two years af
terwards, it was in winter, sir, a young
woman got out of a wagon that ’passed that
way, and came into our bouse. She had a
babe in her arms, and it was crycng bitterly.
The wagon it seems had taken hpr up three
miles beyond, and she had askpd.io be set
down at the first house. We knew her in a
minute. It was the girl who went away with
the British officer! She knew tte too, as ill
as she was, for she was nearly Mead ; ' she
told us her pitiful story—she had lived with
her .uncle, who was her only relation living,
in Boston, where she became acquainted with
this officer. Her uncle hated the British;
and forbade her lo speak to one of them.
But this one', sir, she loved; apd when a
woman loves, she is ready to forsake every
thing lo follow her husband; He stole her
away from her uncle’s house, E)nd married
her privately. They were on their way to
embark for England when they i, stopped at
our bouse. Well, sir, they arrived in Eng
land, and she says he appeared tojidolize her,
and she was happy ; but it was pot lo last I
After some sirange conduct on hiS part, he at
length told' her he could no longer conceal
from her that he had been married previous
lo his coming to this country, that his wife
was living, and he could not entirely estra’hge
himsolf from her; that his violent passion
for her had induced him lo do What he had
done that he repented, and shohld always
love her alone. I shall not repeat all that
Eva said,” continued Jedson ; “bin the.resull
was, that she scorned his promisejof support
ing her and her child in affluence, and re
solved to quit the villain who had so basely
deceived her ; she chose a lime when he
was absent, and secured her passage in a
vessel bound for home. She applied lo sev
eral, but sailed in the one whichf-was ready
first. When she arrived in America, she de
teimined lo throw herself uponp her uncle’s
mercy, but when so far on he i journey lo
him, she was obliged lo stop to gal her strength
and courage to proceed. We made enqui
ries about her uncle ; he was chad and his
estate left lo strangers, in his will, Poor Eva
and her baby had no friend and no home!
We kept her with us. God has blessed our
means, they have both been treasures to us.
We removed to this town, and have lived
here eight years; this girl you taw is Eva’s
child.” o
“And her mother !” gasped out the stran
ge- . i
“She, too, is here, and still deals upon the
wretch who has never made one enquiry
about hef or her child.” i
“lamht/ I believed them | dead,” ex
claimed the unhappy invalid ; “luring me my
child ! I will explain, 1 will alette for all !”
The proud officer was humbled before the
simple innkeeper—he saw amf- blessed his
wondering daughter, and not (faring lo ask
to behold her her mother, he in erms of deep
contrition, informed Jedson tba ?Eva was in
reality his wife; lhal after his arrival in
England he was urged by his friends to fulfil
an engagement with a wealthy lady lo whom
he had long been contracted, and the mar
riage was only delayed on account of his
enforced departure; that, dresding'jthe re
sentment of his family, and overwhelmed
with shame for his inconstancy, he at length
resolved to impose on Eva thu tale of bis
previous marriage, trusting thai her devotion
to him, and her destitute site alien among
strangers, would induce her tq be content
with possessing his love, while another bore
bis name. But on returning efler a tempo
rary absence sod learning her departure his
grief and remorse knew no hot ads. He en
quired concerning all tfio vessels that salted
. for America, and learned that ft female and
a child, answering lo his description of Eva
and her babe r -had gone in opeofHhem. That
“ -f
Rates of Acl returns,
j Advertisements will be charged SI per square of
I* fourteen lines, for one, or three insertions, and 2S
cents fur everysubsequcnt insertion. All advertise,
ments of less than fourteen lines considered as ■
r j equate. The following rates will be charged Id;
' ' . Quarterly, ftalf-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—
1 i 3 months. 6 months. 13 mo’s
[ ] Square,(l4lines,) •$2 50 $4 50 $6 00
S Squares,- .... 400 600 800
i column, 10 00 15 00 $0 00
column,. . . . .18 00 30 00 40 00
All advertisements nut having the number of ia
■ sections marhed upon them, will be kept in until or.
dured.out.aud charged accordinglv.
Posters, Handbills, Btll.and Letter Heads, and all
W * Kinds of Jobbing done in country establishments,,
executed neatly and promptly. Justices’, Consla.
Wes’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and
printed to order.
14 *
vessel was- wrecked, and (he miserable hus
band and father believed himself bereft of
those he bad so fondly loved and so deeply
injured. He never fulfilled his marriage con
tract, nor lost the remembrance of his first
and martyred love. He bad been for many
years an invalid, and at length resolved to
visit the land and birth-place of bis lovely
victim.
The result is known, except that (be gentle
Eva saw, pitied and forgave her repentant
husband; and heal’h and happiness again
visited the reunited pair, and the worthy
Jedson and his excellent wife, were sharers
of the happiness they had been the means of
promoting; and the father-of the beautiful
Fanny never forgot the impressions made by
the innkeeper’s story.
TEACHER’S COLUMN.
[We extract ihe fallowing from an article
pn “Punctuation” in tbe Indiana School
Journal, a monthly published at Indianapo
fis, at SSL,OO per annum, and edited by W,
D. Henkle and others. The articles are good
and as a whole the Journal is very, instruct,
ive. Teachers and persons wishing a good
educational Journal will do well to send for
this.]
The subject of Punctuation being discussed
in the latter part of works upon grammar, it
generally happens that students do not reach
it, or if they do, it is at the close of the term,
when they are compelled to go over the sub
ject in a few lessons. A subject so import
'ant should not be thus slighted. We are
satisfied that a careful study of Wilson's
Punctuation, a book of 334 pages, would re
suit in the acquirement of much practical
knowledge. A knowledge of Punctuation is
essential to type-sellers and proof-readers,
but it should not be inferred that such know),
edge must be confined to them, and that
copy may, therefore, be sent to the printer
unpunctuated. It is very common nowa
days for authors to make up for their igno
rance of Punctuation by using the dash when
they do not know what else to use. The
compositor, or Ihe proof-reader, may not in’
many cases be able to decide our meaning,
if we neglect to punctuate. Suppose we had
written in our notice of the Stale Meeting in
the last number, page 259, “Addresses were
'made by Barnabas Hobbs the President Prof.
John Young Hon. R. W. Thompson and the
Rev. Jos. G. Wilson how would the com
positor have known whether Hobbs or Young
was the President, or whether either was the
President. We will punctuate the sentence
according to these three ideas : “Addresses
Were made by Barnabas Hobbs the President,
Prof. John Young, Hon. R. W. Thompson,
and the Rev. Jos. G. Wilson “Addresses
were made by Barnabas Hobbs, the Presi
dent Prof. John Young, Hon. R. W. Thomp
son, and the Rev. Jos. G. Wilson and
“Addresses were made by Barnabas Hobbs,
the President, Prof. John Young, Hon. R.
Vljt. Thompson, and the Rev. Jos. G. Wil
■ajSh.’ 1 The first idea might also be brought
otii by writing “Barnabas Hobbs (the Presi
dent,”) &c. This style we did actually use
on the next page, in our notice of the Ohio
Slate Meeting, in the sentence “Addresses
were delivered by the President (M. P. Cou
dery,) Prof. Robert Allyn, of Ohio Univer
sity, formerly Superintendent of Schools in
Rhode Island, and Rev. W. Clark, Editor of
the Ladies’ Repository.’’ We may also
punctuate the sentence as follows; “Ad
dresses were made by Barnabas Hobbs, the
President; Prof. John Young ; Hon. R. W.
Thompson ; and Ihe Rev. Jos. G. Wilson.”
For the convenience of those teachers who
desire to impress upon their pupils the im
portance of Punctuation, the following illus
trative examples have been collected :
In No. 742 of Littell’s Living Aga (14th
August, 1838,) we find in an article on
“Ghosts of the Old and Neva School," from
The National Review, the following sen
tence :
_“They grasp the sceptre as if it were a
walking stick, and hold i disembodied spirit
hard and fast by the button.”
There should have been a hyphen between
“walking” and “stick” if the writer meant
a cane, but if he meant a slick that was walk
ing, it is right as it is.
The hyphen will frequenily produce quite
a change in the meaning of a phrase or sen
tence. The New York Tribune, The Broad
Axeof Freedom, Green Mountain Boys, and
An Intellectual Arithmetic Class, mean a
new Tribune published at York, an Axe-of-
Freedom that is broad, mountain boys that
are green, and an Arithmetic Class that is in
tellectual : but The New-York Tribune, The
Broad-Axe of Freedom, Green-Mountain
Boys, and An Intellectual-Arithmetic Class
have quite a different signification.
Observe the effect of the use of a comma
in thq following sentences;
George Washington was a great general;
Mary Jane has lost her book; Thomas
Charles went to college; and Boys go to
school; which become: George, Washing
ton was a great generaj; Mary, Jane has
lost her book; Thomas, Charles went to
college ; and Boys, go to school.
Observe the effects of punctuation in the
.following :
“The persons in the coach were Mr. Mil.
ler ; a clergyman ; his son ; a lawyer ; Mr.
Angelo ; a foreigner; his lady; and a little
child.”
The persons inside the coach were Mr.
Miller; a clergyman, hia son ; a lawyer, Mr.
Angelo; a foreigner, his lady ; and a little'
child.? ;
Several other modes pf punctuating this'
sentence may he adoptpt}, tvhjeh «-illgi»e
Still other muampgs. ‘
Punctuation. 1