THE STAR OF Till] NORTH
R. f, Weaver Proprietor.]
VOLUME 3.
TUB STAR OP TIIE NORTH
It published every Thursday Morning, by
R. W. WEAVER.
OFFICE — Up stairs in the New Brickbuilding
on the south side of Main street, third
square below Market.
TWMS :—Two Dollars per annum, if paid
Within six months from the time of rubscri
bing; two dollars and fifty cents if not puid
within the year. No subscription received
for a less period than six months: no discon
tinuance permitted until all arrearages are
paid, unless at the option of the editors.
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square
will be inserted three times for one dolla r,and
rwanty-five cents for each addition! inser
tion. A liberal discount will be made to those
who advertise by the year.
1 REMEMBER.
1 remember, 1 remember,
When 1 just began to creep,
How 1 crawl'd straight into mischief—
How 1 wouldn't go to sleep-
How I pult'd the table linen.
With its contents on the floor;
How my mother spanked me for it ;
Till my tender llesh was sore.
I remember, I remember,
When I first began to talk ;
And 1 also well remember
Well the day I tried to walk ;
Firm I grasp'd old Jowler's collar,
But he gave a sudden hop,
So into a pan of waiter,
Jowler spilt this child "ker slop."
1 remember, 1 remember,
When I used to go to school,
How 1 kept u watchful eye on
The Schoolmaster's rod and rule ;
How I cut up monkey-shines
Every time bit back WBB turned—
How 1 sometimes used to catch it,
When I'd not my lesson 1 .ariied.
1 remember, I remember,
When 1 want a booking peaches,
Jlow a dog caine on*, and caught me I
By the surplus of my breeches ;
How I hung on to the bushes—
How the dog hung fast to me.
Till my crying brought a man who
Flogged me most "orful-LE."
I remember, I remgmber,
When the girls 1 used to kiss,
How I thought it rather funny,
But it gave no oxtra bliss ;
Now it seizes me with rapture,
Now it fills my soul with joy ;
Yet with manhood's blissful pleasure',
Would that I were still a boy.
THE THREE MAXIMS.
. An old soldier entitled to his discharge from
ilhe army, on the score of long service and
many wounds, being on the point of quilting <
his regiment, went to make bis adieus to his ;
captain.
Ah well, mon brave," said his officer, "so I
.you are about to leave us—to exchange the
of a soldier for that of a citizen. Now,
s this ctreor will be somewhat novel to you, |
■my esteem and friendship, -which you have
■won by bravery and good conduct, prompt
•ine to give you a little advice before patting,
.end if you will submit lo the conditions of
.that advice, without at present seeking to di
•viee their motive, you will never have cause
ao regret having followed my counsel. What
money.havejou about you V'
"Duly three louis d'or, captain, and a few
fraacs to defray the expensos of my jour-!
ney."
■"Very well—give me the ihree louis d'or, :
ind I will give you three max ins for your ,
guidance."
"The slate of my finances renders that'
, rather a dear bargain,,' said the soidier,
-•.'nevertheless, as wisdom is more precious '
lihan gold, and in order to prove to you the
confidence which 1, in common with the rest
of my comrades, repose in vou, I consent to
it" And the soldier handed the Ihiee louis
•d'or—all hit fortune—to the captain.
"Very good," said the Caplnin; "now my
-friend, listen to, recollect, and put in con-:
alant practice these three maxims : Keep the
atraight road ; Never meddle with the affairs
of others; and Postpone your anger to the
morrow. In the meantime, await me here a
few moments."
The old soldier remained, pensively lean
ing on hit musket, and somewhat repentant
of bia bargain. "Keep the straight road—
Never meddle in the affairs of others—and ,
Postpone your anger to the morrow,—very j
aviso assuredly, and very well worth three ,
louis d'or ; only it is rather unfortunate that
that sum should happen to bo the whole of j
my fortune."
In a few minutes the Captain returned and
placed a small loaf of bread in the hands of!
the soldier, exacting from him a promise '
that he would not cut it until that moment
arrived which he should consider the happi
est of his life. Then embracing each other
with that sincerity and affection which char
acterize all Frenchmen and old companions
in arms, they bid each other adieu.
The soldier took up his line of march for
homo. Having been joined by a compagnon
da voyage, towards the evening of the same
day they arrived at a point where the road \
separated into branches; the one wide and
apparently easy, turned a little to the right;;
while the other, narrow and difficult in ap
pearauce, was the direct coutinuatiop of the
grand route. The travellers hesitated for an
instant, deliberating tvhi ch road to follow >
when the soldier suddenly recollecting the
iicst parting maxim of his Captain, said—
"! keep the straight road."
"And i," said his comrade, "shall choose
the easiest."
But the unfortunate traveller lounJ that
t^groad, se wide and easv at its entrance,
term tested in a gloomy forest, the haunt of
wild beasts and lawless men. He paid the
penalty <4 hia unwise choice that night, and
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA~ THURSDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1851.
on the morrow the old soldier learned that
his companion of the preceding day had
been assassinated.
i "Ah, my dear Captain," thought lie, your
I first maxim, at luast was not a dear one ;
| truly, wisdom is more precious than fine
: gold."
j The same day be arrived at tho auberge of
I a small village ; and in conversation with
i some of the peasants, they advised him to
| visit, in his quality of a soldier, a certain
| Marquis, the proprietor of a neighboring
i chateau, who made a pleasure of dispensing
the most liberal hospitality lo all military
' men who might happen to pass on that road.
' Following their advice, lie was received with
i courtesy and politeness, assured of a hearty
! welcome, and invited to the table of the no
bleman.
But, wonderful to relate, in the midst of
ilio supper, a lady clothed entirely in black,
with slow step and downcast eyo, entered
and took her seat at the table; and ibis lady
of noble birth, and a. Frenchwoman, drank
from a human skull!
The soldier, however, took no notice ap
parently of this singulnr circumstances, and
the conversation proceeded as usual, without
interruption. It was not that he was the less
curious to discover the meaning of this ex
traordinary conduct, but the substantial ben.
efit which he had derived from the principle
contained in the first maxim, caused him to
appreciate the second—"Never meddle in
the affairs of others."
After the supper, when the lady had been
some time absent, the Marquis* addressed
himself to the soldier, and regarding him
fixedly, said—
"My friend, you are no ordinary man;
for a most remarkable scene has been enact
ed before ycur eyes, and yet you have not
made the least remark."
"Monseigneur," responded tho soldier, "it
is one of my principles never to meddle in
the affairs of others."
"Brave man !" exclaimed ihe Marquis,
"1 perceive that I can trust you, and that you
are a man of honor and prudence. Follow
me, and you will learn the value of your dis
i retion."
Taking a torch lie led the soldier by a
winding passage to a subterraneum vault.
But, oh, horror! the pale and vacillating
light of the flambeau was reflected on all
sides by ghastly skeletons, which its flicker
ing seemed to reanimate, and which appear
ed to menace the two visiters.
"Listen, my friend," said tho nobleman;
"the black lady whom you have seen this
night, is the lady of the chateau, condemned
to drink at my table from tho skull of her
lover whom I have killed. These bones are
those of travellers who have seen precisely
what you have seen, but have not been pos
sessed of your prudence. 1 have satisfied
their curiosity, and their death alone could
protect me from tho consequances.—Y'our
discretion has saved your life ; and now, my
[ friend, as a proof of my appreciation of your
prudeuge and good judgment, accept lht*
purse. Y'ou are at liberty lo remain at the
chateau as long as you choose, or if you pre
fer, to continue your journey."
Conceive, if possible, tho emotions of tho
old soldier. Who would wonder if ho had
that night often repeated in his sleep, "Never
meddle in the affairs of others."
The next morning ho continued his route,
and the remainder of his journey passed
without any further adventure of interest-
He at last arrived in eight of his cottage,
where all that was most dear to his heart
awaited him—that heart heat quick as he
paced his foot on the threshold. Withou l
announcing himself, he eulered ; hut alas,
what a reception !—tho first object that met
his astonished gaze, was a young priest
tenderl v embracing his wife !
With lha decision of an old warrior, the
soldier levelled his musket, and in another
instant a ball would have pierced the heart
of the unhappy priest; but a thought arres
ted his hand, penetrating his heart like an
electric shock—"Postpone your anger to the
morrow !" and he lowered his musket, and
hung his head, overcome with bitter disap
pointment and despair.
His jealousy, however, was not of long
deration; for behold, upon explanation, the
priest was his son! Adopted in his infancy
by a good curate of the village, who had di
rected his studies, he had recently taken ho
ly orders, and had preceded but a few mo
ments, the arrival of his father.
Thus the soldier, after a long absence, had
at last returned to his family, and had found
his son a priest—the neplus ultra of human
perfection in the popular estimation. When
had he ever conceived of such happiness as
this? It was assuredly the moment to cut
his loaf of bread—but hardly had he done
so, when a playful kitten, wishing to share
the general joy. sprang tow aids some bril
liant object which rolled from the loaf upon
the floor. H was the three louis d'or, which
had been placed there by the good Captain.
t? Tire way the whig tide is retting for
President may be inferred by the fact that
23 papers in Virginia have expressed a pref
erence lor Mr. Fillmore for President in 18-
52. In addition to which the Buffalo Com
mercial Advertiser, a paper called "the do
mestic organ of President Fillmore," says:
—"The campaign on tho Rio Crande elec
ted one president. Nothing more can be made
out qf that teries of brilliant exploit!."
I - * i■• • •
fy The Turks believe, that after Adam
l was driven out of Parodigp, he did penance
by standing ttine hundred years on one leg.
From the Burlington llaukey.
EARLY TIMES IN INDIANA.
Said Major Ondesley, as ho casually drop
ped in,<m us yesterday morning and com
menced talking away in his usual quiet,
chatty, and peculiar manner—
"l'm Bick and tired of this artificial way
of doing things It) these latter days."
"'Why so, major V
"There is an eternal sight too much pa
rade about everything that is going on."
"I was at a wedding last night, the daugh
ter of an old and much-estccmcd friend was
to be married, and I was so urgently invited
that 1 couldn't help going; there was so
urgently invited, that I couldn't help going ;
there was so much fuss and parade that 1
was perfectly disgusted. I couldn't help
comparing the proceedings where a couple
was married iu Lawrenceburg many years
ago, when Indiana formed part of the great
Northwestern Territory. At that time the
settlements of the emigrants were mostly
confined to the rich bottom lands of the
water-courses. Lawrenceburg was a small
village of a few log cabins. My father was
acting magisiratc for the district, and very
promptly attended to all the various duties
of that office, in addition to which he was
in the babit of doing a good deal of man
nual labor on his own hook."
' That was when you wasn't big enough
to do much, major."
"Exactly, I was a tow headed brat of
some eight or ten years old when the inci
dent lam about to relate occurred, but i
remember all the particulars as well as if it
occurred yesterday. You see it was about
dinner time one day in the fall of the" year,
when the old man, being engaged in laying
in a supply of wood for the winter, drove up
his ox team with solid load of fuel.
Just then a young and unsophisticated
couple entered the village, hand in hand, in
quired for the Squire, and were daly direc
ted to the house. The youth was barefoot
ed, and wore a coarse but clean low linen
shirt and pants, and rough straw hat of home
manufacture. His fair companion was dres
sed in a blue cotton frock, pink cotton apron,
fine bonnet, and coarse brogan shoes wi h
oul stockings.
These were their wedding dresses, and
f'teir severe simplicity and the.lhorouglr in
dependence they manifesteu 'made an im
pression upon my mind that will never be
> ffa:ed.
"We come to get married,"saidtheyoung
man to the old lady, my mother, who was
properly busy among the pots and kettles.
"That's very good business," sa d she,
smiling graciously, "though you appear to j
look vety young ; but there's the Squire,
just drove up ; he'll splice you in less than
no time." So out she bolted, to give the
fortunate functionary due notice of the bu
siness in hand
"I can't stop till f unload this wood,"
said the old man ; "tell them to come out
here."
Out they cattle.
The old man was on the top of the cart,
and every time he threw ofl a s'ick he ask
ed a question. Before he was fairly unload
ed, he had the youth's whole story, having
ascertained the hames, ages, and residence
of the parlies, hew long he had known the
young woman, if he really loved her, and
was willing to labor honestly to promote her
happiness, &c.
The youngster gave simple and satisfacto
ry answers to all tho questions propounded.
In the mean lime, the old lady, perfectly
understanding Dad's way of doing things,
had sent out to say to the people that a wed
ding was coming off at the house ; and by
the time the wood was unloaded, quite a
crowd had collected to witness thj ceremo
ny.
Tho old fellow, having pitched out the
last stick, and picked up his long goad,
I stood up in the cart and commenced the
performance.
"Jest jino hands," said ho to the young
couple. It was done accordingly.
' I am satisfied with both of ye," contin
ued he, "you've a perfect right to got mar
ried and he united 'em in short order.
"As the rollers on this house nre joined to
gether, so 1 jine you—you are man and
wife—salute your bride. I dou't charge you
anything for the operation.
"Whoa haw, Buck ; get along, Bright!"
and with an eloquent flourish of his long
stick, he started for another load of wood,
leaving the newly wedded pair amid the vil
lagers, kissing each other with a very dis
tinct and particular evidence of satisfaction.
"That was a wedding worth having,"
said Major Oudesley ; "I knew the couple
afterwards, and know them yet, for they are
both living in a high state oi prosperity.
And I know their children after them, too,
and mighty fine children they are, for one of
them is at this very time Governor of the
State of Indiana.
I?* A Western editor says that "a child
was run over by a wagon three years old
and cross eyed, with pantalets on, which
never spoke afterward and adds that "in
consequence of careless driving, the shafts
of death are constantly through their vil
lage."
It is said that the diiprence between
I eating strawberries and cream and kissing a
! pretty girl is so small, that, it cannot be ap
preciated.
POTTSVILLE SPIRIT.— It seems that one of
the principal peyons in the recent revolu
tion in Northern Mexico ie a l'ottsvillian—
j Major McMicken.
Troth and Sight—Rod and ony fo||try.
Curiosities at Hie World's Fair.
Specimens of silver lead ore, 'weighing
350 lbs., front the Great Coward silvof lead
mine.
A block of pure silver, weighing more
than 140 lbs.
Cansister of boiled mullon, supplied to
Arctic
Captain Sir John Ross in P rinceßegent's lu
let, in 1849, in a perfect st'ite of preserva
tion.
Pure Southdown ewe, stuffed, seven years
old, aoif which was never shorn. Length of
the wool 25 inches, weight 36-lbs.
Working model of "a pair of non-conden
sing stegm engines, standing within the
compass of a shilling, and weighing three
drachms.
Sewing machine, capable of sewing 500
stitches per minute.
A sporting watch, which shows the time
to one sixth of s second.
Clock in a case which occupied thirty"
four years in completion, with astronomical,
chronological, and other .movements, wind
organ, &o.
Tuniag fork, with chromatic scale, by
which any note may be tuned at pleasure.
A boot and shoe made from a single piece
of leather.
Patchwork quilt, in 13,500 pieces of cloth
the sole work of the exhibitor, and has oc
cupied his leisure hours for eighteen years.
A horse she, designed to permit the natu
ral expanding action of the foot ol the
horse.
Bed cover of patchwork, the number ot
pieces nearly 91,000.
Self-acting calculator of surface. The a
tea of any figure drawn on a plane, is found
by moving the tracer over the outline, how
ever irregular it may be.
Oval medallion of her Majesty, produced
by a single line of equal thickness, and 259
feet in length.
A piece of white linen, spun and woven
by hand, having 7,000 threads in the warp.
A lump of gold ore weighing 3 cwt.
A second wa'.ch made of ivory, with gold
screws and steel moving powers. It works
in ten rubies, and weighs (glass and vase
included) half an ounce.
An octagonal table [of inlaid wood, con
taining 3,000,000, tho arms of England a
lone in a space of three inches by two, con
sisting of 53,000 of these pieces.
A watch going one year.
A Berlin wool carpet, executed by one
hundred and fifty ladies of Great Britain.
l'hn (iimorcioua o£ ibie oar,.t ..... thirty fool
in length, and twenty in breadth. Tho car
pel has been produced in the following man
tlet ; The pattern originally designed and
painted by the artist, has been subdivided
into detached squares, and which have been
worked by the different ladies ; and on their
completion the squares have been united so
as to complete the design? In the pattern,
which consists of geometrical and partly of
floral forms, healdic emblems have been in
troduced. The initials of the executants are
o rnanientahy arranged so as to form the ex
ternal border. The whole design is connec
ted by wreaths or bands of leaves and foli
age, the centre ol the group representing the
storo from whiclih they Lave been distribu
ted.—London Family Friend.
Extravngance in Livinfc.
' One cannot wonder that the limes ocna
stonally get bard," said a venerable citizen,
the other day, "when one sees the way in
which the people live and ladies dress.''
We thought there was a good deal of truth
in what the old gentleman said. Houses at
from five hundred to a thousand dollars rent;
brocades at three dollars a yard; bonr.els at
twenty ; and shawls, cloaks, &o. &c, from
fifty dollars up, are enough to embarrass any
community, which indulges in such extrava
gances as extensively as Americans do For
it is not only the families of realized wealth,
who could afford it, that spend money in this
way; but Ihose who are yet laboring to
make a fortune, and who, by the chances of
trade, may fail of this desirable result after
all. Everybody almost wishes to live, now a
days, as if already rich. The wives and
daughters of men not worth two thousand a
year, dress as richly nearly as those of men
worth ten or twenty thousand. The young,
too, begin where their parents left off. Ex
travagance, in a word, is piled on extrava
gance, till
j "Alps o'er Alps arise."
The folly of Ihis is apparent. Tlio sums
thus lavished go for mere show, and neither
refind the mind nor improve the health.
They gratify vanity, and that is all. By the
practice of a wise economy, most families
might, in time, entitle themselves to scch
luxuries: and then, indulgence in them
would not be reprehensible. If there are
two making a clear two thousand
a year, and one lays by a thousand at simple
interest, while the other spends his entire
income, the first will have acquired a fortune
in sixteen years, sufficient to yield him an
;ncome equal to his acoustomed expenses,
while the other will be as poor as when he
started in life. And so of larger sums! In
fine, any man, by living on half of what he
annually makes,Jbe it more or less, can, be
fore he is fotly, acquire enough, and have it
invested in good securities, to live for the
rest of his life in the style in which he has
been living all along. Yet how few do it!
But what prevents 1 Extravagance, extrav
agance, and again extravagance ! — Phil. Eve.
Bulletin.
CP" WtTEB is the best of all drjpks.
What Constitutes a Gentleman.
To be a gentleman is a laudable ambition
and every man should aim to attain that
character. But difficulty arises fiom the va
rious fancies lba( more or ross prevail as to
what constitutes a true gentlemen.
That j-oung man with a diminutive shoe
brush on his tipper lip, imagines himself a
fine specimen of the genuine article. How
elegantly he is stiffened and starched with
corsets, straps and dickey ! His boots are
just the fit, and tho tailor made a "dead hit"
when he cut that suit. He has no visible
means of sustenance, and yet ho picks his
teeth, with elegant nonchnlence, in front of
the most fashionable hotels. He c nrrics,
too, a gold-headed cane ; wears a quizzing
glass, swells like a toad, while talking of his
upper-ten acquaintances; goes to the thea
tre ; criticises learnedly ; dances divinely ;
is admired by the ladies ; and, after dark,
prowls the streets to insult the poor girl who
is returning home wearied with toilsome la
bor.
But thai youth makes a great mistake. lie
has not a single element ol the true gentle
man in him. Strip him of his gewgaws, and
the dialitio ion between him and the monkey
wouldn't be worth mentioning. Brainless
and heartless; they are the mere scum that
float upon the surface of society, of no use
to themselves or any body else, except as
dolls. A million of them wouldn't be worth
as much as little black Billy Button, who
flourished in Middle street, for he did do
something, although he made a mistake
when he whipped his wife for letting the
lightning gel into his closet. If the tailori
the milliner, and the laundress, were to des
ert these minikens, the ditference between
the false and the true would soon appear.
But look at that well-dressed man with
black whiskers. Is not he a gentleman ?
We bhould,hardly dare to tell him to his
face otherwise; if we should, he would
probably knock us down, and we can assure
those of our readers who have tried il, that
the position is neither comfortable nor grace
ful. Yet we will whisper in your ear, pri
vately, mind, and while his eye is turned
another way—that he is not a gentleman !
"on the contrary, quite tho reverse." He
lives by victimizing at the gambling table;
or by oilier still more dishonorable practices.
He is worse than lite semi comical animal
above described in possessing greater ability
to injure.—Yet, superficially, though the
foulest bogus, be tries to pass tolerably well
as current coin in society. Very likely, the
State Prison, or the gallows—if banging is
not meanwhile abolished—will snap him up,
and close his eventful career.
Some men have a notion that to be a true
gentleman , they must scofT at religion, avow
disbelief in a future life, sneer at professors
of tho christian failfi, repudiate nil virtue,
boast of their licentiousness and seductions,
drink deep and long, and swagger '.heir way
,downdard to eternity.
Faugh ! such miserable wretches are to
society, what the green, putrid, stagnant,
miasmatic waters ure to the beautiful garden,
exhaling the poisonous odors of death all a
rotind them.
Dress does not make a gentleman.—lf it
did, (hen the greasiest fool and knave in the
world might lay claim to the character, pro
vided lie had money enough, or sufficient
credit.
Fashionable accomplishments no not
make the gontleman. A man may be exqui
sitely courteous in his demeanor—be may
touch his hat and make a bow with the re
puled grace of Chesterfield—he may be all
smiles and suavity—yet
"He may smile and smile, and be a villain."
It is an old adage, "that mind makes the
man." The exterior is but the covering.
Many suppose that this outer packing of
muscle, and botte, and sinew, is the real
man; and ladies sometimes say, "What a
handsome man be is!"— Why, if they could
only look beneath this fine frame work, and
seethe interior life, they wculd behold a de
formity utterly loathsome—all snarled and
twisted out of shape by demoniac p: ssions.
The HEART makes 'the gontleman. We
have seen men steeped to the eyelids in dir
est poverty, battling manfully, hour after
hour, and day after day, with adverse fate,
I for the mere permission to live; and we
have felt that they deserved our profoundest
homage. We see such, indeed, daily. Un
dismayed they struggle on with their hearl s
warm, and their hopes ever on the wing. In
a little circle of their home—a place sacred
and glorious, and beautiful to them, however
humble, thoy manifest all (be amenities, and
drink iri all the joys that home is designed
to produce. With firm confidence in Provi
dence and the final rest in Heaven, they
meet all the trials cheerfully, and breast the
heaviest waves on the rough ocean of life
with strong rrms. Through all, forever
beams out the heart-smile.
Theso are gentlemen, not fashioned by
the tailor's skill, not spawned from the mon
ey-chest, but made and moulded in elegant
proportions by the artistic band of the Great
Architect.
On our way to church on the Sabbath day,
wo somolirnes see a young man leading his
venerable mother to tke house of God. We
mark the watchful eye with which he guards
4ier tottering steps—how gently he leads her
along—how his whole mind is nbsorbed in
tender regard for his mother. Her face is
seamed all over with wrinkles—but she has
I no wrinkles in him.
Who denies his title to a patent nobility 1
He may dress plainly, perhaps meauly—he
may make you an awkward bow—he may
lack all the graces and charms of refined
manner—yet he is in the noblest sense of
all, the TRUE GENTLEMAN.— Ike Eclectic.
SALLY BROWN.
A NICE NtV DALL.VD.
i Not far from a place c illeil Liberty town,
J There lived a young lady y'elep'd Sally
I Brown ;
A lady of merit as soon will appear,
| If you will have patience to listen and hear,
Derry down, derry down, derry down.
Her dress, I'll describe you in less than a
minute,
So be you attentive and hear me begin it;
; Her head is adorned with a nice collage bon
net,
With knots of red ribbon in abundance noon
it,
Dorry down, derry down, derry down.
I Her shawl is dark brown and her gown it is
drab;
I And Iter eyes much rcsemblo the eves ef a
crab;
■ Hrr mouiti is no wiilo tin an ovoo, I'm ruru,
I Or (to use the old proverb) as any barn door,
Deny down, derry down, derry down
I Now listen, ye gallants, of every degree,
This lady's not married, bu'. wishes to be ;
. So he who may think a good wife is no curse,
j May take the sweet damsel for bclteror worse,
Derry down, derry down, deiry down
Never Give Up!
The Albany Knickerbocker asks who are
our rich men ?—our distinguished men l—
our most useful men ? Those who have
been cast clown, but not destroyed—who
when the breeze of ndvereily swept away
their props, Eought new standards—pushed
on—looked up, and then became what you
behold them now. A glorious sentence and
worthy to be inspired—Never give np ! Men
are not made—they make themselves. A stea
dy perseverance—a determination never to
sink, though millstones were hanging about
iheir necks—is the doctrine. It is this (the
Knickerbocker eloquently continues) thai has
made the wilderness to blossom—that has
given wings to the ocean, filled valleys, lev
eled mountains, and built up great cities of
the world. Who, then, is a tool, and.'yields
simpeiing before the blast I—who is a suck
ling, and cowers before a cloud ? Is it you,
young man, strong and healthy as you are 1
Shame, shame on you ! You arc big enough
to possess an iron heart, and to break down
mountains at a blow. Up, and let this be
the day of your redemption. Resolve to le
a fool 110 longor, even if you are obliged to
stand with a red-hot iron upon your brow—
i nover give up I— City Item.
Horse Power Ditching Machine.
! Mr. cnartes Bishop, or Nor walk, Ohio,
j has invented and taken measures to secure a
| patent for a good improvement in Ditching
■ Machines, whereby the old spado method of
j ditching by manual labor is entirely thrown
j Into the shade. His machine is worked by
j horse-power, and is provided with a revol
ving excavator, the shaft or axle of which
lies in the direction of the length of the
! d'lch. Iho excavator is of a screw forijp.
and operated by an endless chaii. The
I ditch is cut of a semi circular form, and it
I deposits the cut clay, or other kind of exca-
I vated earth in a box, from whence it is ile
j livered at one side on the road by scrapers
attached to the endless chain. Tha machine
being propelled forward try a friction wheel
| or roller, moving in the ditch, and operated
j by the excavator shaft.
A Second Band President.
| We heard the following good story a few
days ago, related by one of the high dignita
ries of the land—Tom Corwin--whose inim
; ilable manner of relating the same, we art!
I sorry cannot be committed to paper:
President Fillmore upon his elevation to
the Presidential chair, was obliged, in con
formity with the dignity of his new station,
to purchase a carriage and horses—'.he bor
ses were soon obtained—and Mr. Preston, of
South Carolina, olTered to dispose of his ffue
coach, which was accordingly sent to the
new President for Ins inspection.
! Irish Jemmy, the While House coachman,
was on'hand when Mr. Fillmore called at
; the stable to inspect it, and wishing an opin
j ion from Jemmy, as to the lilness ol the
: coach, asking if he thought it tine enough,
i *'Ooh, it'o a gaud cuach, your horror," said
Jemmy.
i "But is it good enough, Jemmy V said the
President.
. Jemmy, with a doubtful scratch ol bii
bead, again answered in the same manner;
! when Mr F., wanting u positive answer,
said—
"Jemmy, do yon think a second hand car
riage would do for a President V
j "Och," said Jemmy, "remember youriion
or's a second hand President, and suie it's
jusl right!"
The President took the coach.— Cincinnati
j Commercial.
tW An Knglishman observed a stone roll
1 down a staircase. It bumped on every stair
1 till it came to the bottom ; there, of course,
l it rested. "That stone," said he, "resem
bles the national debt of my country ; it has
| bumped on overy grado of the community,
but its weight rests on the lowest "
! ty A gentleman, speaking of Cincinnati,
said its most appropriate name would be
j Ham-burgh of America.—"Yes," replied
J another, "I think it would be the meaf-ropo
' lis of the United States."
! ST "Will yov clasp my cloak,sir f" asked
| a young lady of the gentleman who was to
; accompany her home from a parly. "Yes,
! and ita contents," replied he, putting his a.-nt
| around her waist.
[Two Dollars per Anqgßa
NUMBER 47."
Gambling;in JCorope.
The enormous sums of money which dai
ly change owners at Wiesbaden, Carlesrhoe
and other watering places which aro gene
rally resorted to by the fashion and aristoc
racy of Europe, are almost incredible, and
of course this high playing'!, frequently at
tended with tragical results.
A few weeks ago at Carlesruho" a gentle
man named Tissard, who had long bean
considered the most successful gambler of
his day, and who lias frequently won SIOO -
000 in one night, suddenly took it into his
hea lto send a bullet through his heart, be
cause on one occasion his good luck had de
serted him; which though it would not be
the cause of his ruin, yet he thought would
dishonor him. Playing wiih a German
Countess he lost every time : though they
continued for thirty.one hours without the
slightest interruption, except while occe ta
king a die). of coffee. At last finding him
self minus the sum rf 400 000 francs ho
coolly rose from the table and requesting the
lady to excuse him for a moment, retired
Afler the lapse of some time the Countess
having become a little fidgety about his re
turn. seat a servant to seek him, who finding
his door locked, knocked several times for
admission, but receiving no answer, lie at
length broke it open. There lay the gam
bler extended on the floor with a bullot hole
through the heart, and beside him on the ta
ble an envelope bearing the address of the
Countess, and containing in bank bills the
amount she had won from him. The Conn
less, it is said, when she was informed of
the catastrophe which occurred, remarked,
"well, at least, ho might have told ma he
was never coming back, nnd not have
kept me here wailing so long "
About a month ago a Russian Princo
Bonbegliii at Rade i-baden, broke the bank
two days in succession, a thing which has
not occurred for jseveinl years. The Duko
began by staking a Louis D'ro, and in terf
passes broke the bank, gaining from 130,-
000 to 135,000 irar.ks. Tlio saloon was im
mediately evacuated ; half an hour after
wards the doors were again opened. The
next day the Prince-again broke the bank,
winning about 127,000 francs. One of his
adversaries lost 50,000 Irancs. The next
day the Prince gave a dinner to his friends
which cost hi in 2,000 francs, and the next
left for \\ isbaden, declaring his intention of
breaking the bank, there also.
Obstinacy.
An obelitia'e man does not hold opinions,
but they hold him ; for when lie is onoo
possessed of an error, it is like n devil, ouly
cast out with great difficulty. Whatsoever
he lays liolJ on, like a drunken man, hs :
never loses, though it does but help to sink
him the sooner His ignorance is abrupt and
inaccessible, impregnable both by art and
nature, and will hold out out till the last,
though it has nothing but rubbish to defend
It is as dark as pitch, and sticks as fast to.
anything islays hold on. His skull is so
thick, that it is proof against reason, and
never cracks but on too wrong side, just op-*
posite to that on which the impression is
made, which surgeons say dooa happen very
frequonlly. The slightor and more inconsis
tent his opinions are, the faster he holds
them, otherwise they would fall asunder of
themselves; for opinions that are false ought
to be held with more strictness and assurance
than those tlutt are true, otherwise they -wilt
be apt to betray their owners bdfore tbay aro
aware. He delights most of all to differ in
things indifferent, no matter how frivolous
they arp, they are weighty enough in his
weak judgment; and he will rather suffef
self-martyrdom than part with the least scru
ple of his freehold, lor it is impossible to
dye his dark ignorance into any lighter color.
—He is resolved o understand no man's rea
son but his own, because he finds no man
can understand his but himself His
wits are like a sack, which the French
proberb says is lied faster before it is fuff
than when it is; and his opinions are like
plants thai grow upon rocks, that slick fast
though they have no rooiing. His under
standing is hardened, like Pharaoh's heart,
and is proof against all sorts of judgmontS
whatsoever.
The Right Stripe.
The Editor of the Pcnnsylvanian in a
speech at New York, recently, related the
following anecdote, which is illustrative of
the true democratic character:
"Before I take my seal, let me tell yon of
an old anecdote of John Randolph, who
was placed on the Democratic ticket for
Congress in Virginia, a number of years a-'
go. He got into a personal quarrel with
Col. James Carter, who was a staunch Dem
ocrat. A challenge war given, which 'was
to be fought after the election. The electors
voted in that State not by ballot, but vtt-a
voce, and as Col. Carter came up there was a
good deal of curiosity to know how he
would vole in reference to his personal ene
my. Amidst breathless suspense, he said in
a loud and distinct vnice, "1 vote for Jdhrt
Randolph." Randolph, overcome by this
act, went over to htm and offered him llt
hand, Carter refused and said, "Nb, sif, f'
did not vole for you, but for the great Dam-'
orratio party ; for regular nominations ; and"
d—n you. 1 will shoot you on Monday next.
(Great laughter and applause.)
IT There are lour sets of twin children,
of four different mothers, all at home in a
row of foud different bouses, on Beech, St.,
1 St. Pauls, Minnesota. "Now, By St. Pauls,
! ihe-wwdt K** bravely on."