THE STAR OF THE NORTH.
B. W. Weaver, Proprietor.]
VOLUME 8.
■■ •■■ ■ ■
THE STAR OF THE NORTH
13 rVBUSHKD EVERY WEDNESDAY JUORNINU BY ,
. W. WEAVER,
OFFICE— Up stairs, in the new brick build
ing, on the south side of Main Street,
third square below Market.
TERMS: —Two Dollars per annum, if 1
paid within six months from the time of sub
scribing ; two dollars and ffl'ty cents if not
paid within the year. No subscription re
ceived for a less period than six months ; uo I
discontinuance permitted until all arrearages !
are paid, unless at the option of the editor. '
ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square J
will be inserted three limes for One Dollar
and twenty-five cents for each additional in- ■
serlion. A liberal discount will be made to [
those who advertise by the year.
ORIGINAL POETRY!" j |
For the "Star of the North." ! 1
THE ORPHAN. !'
• !'
Angela their watch are keep ing <
Around the couch of rest,
Where a lovely babe is sleeping
Upon its mother's breast. ! 1
But ah! the mother's pillow % \
Death's form is hovering o'er;
And from that silent slumber
She'll never waken more.
Thou'rt left, poor helpless infant
. Without a mother's care,
. For cold and lifeless is tho form
That rests beside thee there.
Sleep on—thou knowest not that sho
Beside thee is so cold,
Or that a grave both wide and deep
Thy father's corse doth hold.
Oh! clay cold are the lips that oft
Upon the young babe smiled;
Then lake unto thy home and heart
Thy little orphan child.
Protect it in its infancy
And guard it in its youth;
And kindly, gently guide it
In the paths of Love and Truth.
And should the world's unkindness e'en
Bid sorrow's tear to start,
Then with the balm of sympathy
Go, heal the orphan's heart.
Hemlock, Col. to., Pa. LILLIAN. |
[T/ tnsluted from the French of Geiard,ly Chas. i
G. Whitehead ]
THE ADVENTURESofa LION•KILLER. I
LION KILLED ON HIS OWN HEARTHSTONE. j
1 left the douar with several Arabs, follow- !
ing the tracks the lioness had made when
Carrying away the stolen sheep. Her course !
lay along a path, thai lay parallel with the one j
I had been watching, and 1 could see in the j
snow that she had walked at an easy puce,
stopping Irom time to time, to tub off the !
snow that dogged to her lee'. At about a j
mile and a half from the douar we cuine to j
the place where she bad dined. There was j
no'bing remaining of the old lady's sheep j
but its skin, which had been neatly pulled !
off, and was rolled up and cast aside with 1
the extremities of the fore legs. From here '
the trail ran on for about a pistol 6kol, and j
then went into the woods. Here the Arabs
came to the conclusion, that it would be sa
last for them to wait und kindle a fire, not in- |
tending in the least to hinder me, in case I
desired to carry my researches any further,
lladier pleased than otherwise to be free
frotn their company, I continued on the trgil
alone, and followed it into the woods being
armed with iny double barrel tifle and a pon
iard.
As I advanced into the woods, the walking
became more difficult, and the close vault of
trees overhead more compact,aud every min.
ute 1 was obliged 10-stop to unfasten my bur
nous that had caught in the bushes, until fi
lially, I took it ofl altogether and left it be
hind. At about a half a mile from the edge
of the woods, 1 saw what I thought was the
lion's cover. It consisted of a dense thicket
ol olive trees, about a hundred yatds in cir
cumference, and so closely pecked that it
formed a perfect rouf; snow ludsr. above, but
dry beneath, and warm with the soil sittings
of the many foliaged Hues, a goodly chamber
for the forest queen. The place seemed to
breathe the, very odor of sanctity, and 1 could
see here aud there the marks of her majes
ty's feet, or more sacred still to plebeian eyes,
the very impress ol her person as she bad Uiu
here and there where faucy led her.
Knowing how soundly the lion sleeps after
hs has well eaten, I hoped to be able to reach
her while still in dreamland, and to awaken
her by the ringing of my rifle. So I advanc
ed slowly, step by step, with my body bent,
and my eye following the trucks or scanning
lite thicket around me. Sometimes s thorn
Would catch my eliirt and hold me hack,
sometimes a vine had fastened its strong ten
dril across my path, and I would have to
stop to free myself with the greatest caution,
or on bands and knees glide uuder the obstruc
tion.
Finally, I came to a halt, before an olive
tree closer than any of the others, under whose
low sweeping branches the lioness had gli
ded, crouching like myself. In vain I tried
to see behind these branches, they formed
an impenetrable veil that shut out all eyes
from the lady'i bower. I "was curtain she
must be here, it was directly in the middle of
the grove, which was not a very large one,
and aa I had been all around it I waa sure
that aha bad not passed out after enteriiq; it.
As the conviction forced itself upon my
mind, my btart beat so full with emotion,
that I was obliged to keep quiet for a moment
or two that my blood might flow on its ac
customed coarse.
When I became perfectly collected again,
I carefully pushed aside the branches that
impeded my view with the end of iny gun.
1 woe right—there lay the lioness not five
Steps from me, stretched on her side, with
iter bead pillowed on one paw, dreaming in
BLOGMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTYfTA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 9, 1856; '
perfect quiet, with the soft respiration of a
girl in her slumbers.
1 made ready to fire, but when my gun was
at my shoulder, and my eyo ran along the
barrel, I found myself in a most perplexing
situation.
The lion was lying in such a manner that
I could see the whole of her form, and yet
being obliged to fire while kneeling, I feared
lest the horizontalposition of her body should
injure my shot.
In a dangerous position, haste or delay are \
equally bad ; but inspiration came to my i
mind to free me from my troubles, and 1 a
dopted a bold course. Rather than send a
doubtful ball ball into the jaw? of the animal,
or into the uncertain regions of the heart, I
resolved to awaken the lioness, and only
shoot when sho should raise herself up. In
order, therefore, that her uwakentng might
be calm and natural, I proceeded with the
greatest caution. While my iell hand held
my gun to my shoulder, with the right I broke
a little twig at my side.
The lioness slept on. I broke another a
little louder. Hatdly had my hand reached
the trigger before the lioness was on her bel
ly. Her eyes lazily opened, her ears were
lain back on her head, her lips moved up
and down, and her glance, fearful with its
fixed intensity, wandered around her cham
ber to seek the cause of the undefined sound
that had caught Iter senses.
Before she saw me I sighted her right ear,
and fired.
The smoke of my gnn lay so heavy in the
air that 1 could not see belore me, but I heard
a short strangled roar, that sounded like a
good omen. Soon I could see the lioness
stretched out where she was lying when 1
tired.
Her sides heaved, and her leet moved
back and forward with a quick, convulsive
motion.
I saw in an instant that she was only stun
ned, and would bo ou her feet in a moment
more.
| 1 hastily wound my turban around my arm
and sprang into the cover. Without losing u
moment, I placed the muzzle of nty guti to
j he.r head and fired. The bold spiyit that rul
' ed the wouds was quenched with the report
; of my gun, and her graceful form lay at uiy
| feet a corpse.
[ 1 found my first ball had entered at the
| corner at her eye, and gone out at the lop of
I the head, fracturing the skull without pierc
j >ug 'I-
In an bcur after my shots had been heard,
this part ol the forest, heretofore so silent and
sacred, was invaded by a crowd of Avtbs,
who, with a thousand wild cries and songs,
placed the body of the lioness upon a rough
lit'.et, and bore iu iu slate to the douar.—
There it was lain upon a mat in the centre
of :he village, a black bull was killed in hon
qj ol the pa'ron of Saint, Sidi-Amar, and the
entire (light devi teJ to festivities.
It v. us a spectacle worthy of an artist's
pencil, and a fantastic and memorable event
to an eye that was used to the daily life of
the nomads.
The fires of cork and oak wood flashed
bright, while moving groups and spreading
trees cast dark shadows ou the background
of snow. In the red light the women of the
douar wont to and fro, as they distributed the
flesh of the beast and the lioness. By the
caldron that would have boiled an ox, Ad
dallah, the minstrel, chanted rude songs ol
valorous deeds, and the softened note of a
flute came ftom the woman's tent.
Here the girls babbling away some ro
mance of their fancy, there were grouped the
men holding high converse on warlike deeds
and talking powder and ball. The birds in
the park lowered at the unwonted light, the
dogs came in aud out from the shadow to
seize a stray morsel, and pet gazels shook
their heads, and rung their bells doubtfully at
the bonlires.
Then, swelling and flying, the war-song
ruse on the air to the clapping of hands,
and the gleams of waving steel, und all the
people—wild phantoms draped in their white
burnous, arose to their feet as will arise one
day the dead that lie iu tho valley of Jehose
pliHl. Tho women sound the shrill battle
cry, the men reply with the firing of guns,
which roll awav on the hills und come back
in repeated echoes, ar.d then the spectres
sink again to the ground, and only the sigh
ing flute bteaks the sudden stillness.
The scene excited ray faucy with its beau
ty, and my pride was its triumph; and I can
never forget its kindly memories or the grate
ful hearts ol these mountaineers.
When the stars gave place in the sky to
the reddening dawn, the women retired to
their tents. The men gathered around the
tomb of Sidi-Amar, and with their faces to
Mecca, devoutly listened to their holy seer
as he recited the morning prayers. Then,
one by o te, the whole tribe came to me to
bid me fa.ewel!, and 1 leaped in my saddle
and pricked over the plain towards Guelmu,
with a heart at ease with myself, arid lull
of emotion at the curious life I bad witness
ed.
i LION THAT DEVOURED THE WHOLE FACULTY
OF A COLLEGE.
There was once a mosque on the old road
from Constantino to Baiua, that went by the
name of Jemael-Bechivu, and its ruined min
arets exists to this day.
The holy men who inhabited thia retreat
had raised a young lion that was brought in
by the Arabs, but after it had uearly attained
its growth, the ungrateful scholar finding the
path ol religion a thorny road suddenly dis
appeared.
in a little while after, the douars that were
located in the neighborhood of the mosque,
became the prey of its heretical appetite.
One evening the head of the holy fathers
of Jemael-Bechiva was missing from pray
ers.
The next evening one of his assistants was
found absent from his supper, a thing very
unusual with a good Mussulman.
So on for forty days, one by one, the num
ber of these wise me( diminished gradually,
tho responses became fainter at prayers and
the platters fewer at table. The lion lay in
ambush by the brook, and when they came
down to make their daily ablutions, they
found their vat into his infidel maw.
It was not until the fortieth professor hud
disappeared, (a whole faculty devoured by a
lion,) that the ten of the lailhlul who-remain
ed look the belter part of valor, and emigra
ted to a safer country, und the mosque was
deserted.
Then the having
coarser fate
scended to the laity, and
the road, seized on every
ed, until he had placed a perfect^^^^^^^H
and there was not an
as he might be, that dare go
the daytime.
At last the lion growing
perfect isolation that his preditnry
imposed on himself, left the country probably"?
in search ol unother mosque, and thence-1
forth, the El-Bechiva road was traveled by i
every one in perfect security.
A NEW KIND OF LION's BAIT.
I came back to rny post where I had left !
my two men about midnight, and feeling 1
very much fatigued, selected a thick-set tree
by the side of the path, and lay down for a
nap, bidding my eaphi keep a good watch
until 1 awoke. The Arab stretched himself!
out a little distance, a few minutes
was snoring like a wiudtnilT.
It was a night of perfeefbeauty. The full
moon poured down a flood of silver that roll
j ed off the trees, and lay knee-deep on all the
| fielils of grain and glossy knolls. "Here and
[ there a cultivated patch of ground showed its
I fruitful breast amid the woods, margined with
j the stately trees of ages ago. The aiq was
| warm and fresh, the wind was whist, and no
soutid met the ear, save the murmur of in
sects in the air, or the bumping ol beetles as
, their shardy whing came against the white
] borked trees. The shadows lay heavily un
j der tHe loliage where we were stationed,
j though the Arab slept in the full moonshine
I that gleamed oil his burnous while as snow.
1 saw for a while around me the pleasant
' view utsoolviug awd)' in the mists of sleep,
when 1 tell my arm gently pulled by my
i spuht. 1 slowly raised my head, and follow- -
| ing his eye, saw on the pathway, at about
u hundred paces from us, two lions silting
| down side by side.
i 1 thought at first that wo had been dis-'
I covered, and was preparing to tire away as
I best I could, but then again I reflected that
i we were in the shadows, partly concealed
by the bushes, while the happy native was'
j lying in the lull light of the moon. It was
evident it was lie they were watching. I
i lotbade my comrade to awaken him, per
suaded that he would be proud of his share
; in the adventure alter it was over, and care
j fully rising to my feet, stood behind the trunk
of the tree to watch the operation of the ene
my.
The distance between me and them was
only a hundred yards, and yet they must
have taken a lull hall hour to cross the inter
vening distance. The moon was shining
bright on the path, but I could only sec them
Irom time to time, as they raised their heads
to see if the Arabs remained iu the satne
place. They took advantage of every lull of
giass and every stone to conceal their ap
proach, gliding rather thau crawling and
winding like snakes among stones or over
sucks without the slightest uoise.
As the leader hud come to within ten pa
ces ol where I was standing, and to within
flfleeu steps of where the Arab was snoring,
and his eyes were ffxed upon the sleeping
man with such a coucentrulioit of desire that
1 feared I had waited too long, and that he
would make his spring belore I could fire.
The other lion,-a few steps further on, placed
himself abieast of his comrade, and it was
not until then that 1 saw that both of the an-
I imals were femu'es, but ot so large a size that
I then sex was hardly recognizable. Their
stealthy motions were feminine, though (he
texture of their skin, their form and their roy-
I al proportions has completely deceived me
|us to their sex. How beautiful they were as
they drew down, like pointer dogs on their
prey, with every passion of their souls delin
eated on their fuoes!
I took aim at the shoulder of the first and
fired. The repott of the gun and the loud
roar of the wounded lioness brought the
dreaming Arab with a bound to hie feet.—
A second bait pierced her heart, and she
fell dead at the very feel of the frightened
man, who stood rooted to the spot by terri
ble nightmare.
Without losing any time, I changed guns
with my spahi, and looked around for the
other lioness. She was on her fet at a lit
tle distance off, watching with amazement
the scene before tier. As I look aim at her
shoulder, she crouched down to the ground.
1 fired, and she rolled over, badly wounded,
as it appeared, and sought safely in a corn
field that bordered the road. On coming to
the place where she bad been slauding, I
could hear her inutteringa in the plantation,
but did not tbiuk it was best tu follow her
into the laud of shadows at such an hours—
So we waited lor daylight, and thee followed
the trail until it left the field, and entered the
tvooda where it waa soon lost to sijht.
Truth and Right Rod and our Country.
FILLMORE'S POSITION Ac SPEECHES.
At Newburg, on Thursday, in reply to a
complimentary address, Mr. Fillmore spoke
as follows: • '
Fellow Citizens of'Newburg: —Accept my
cordial thanks for this unexpected but hearty
greelirig. My friend has introduced me as
the standard-bearer of the American party,!
and a friend of the Union. For the fotmer
position, I am indebted to my friends, who
have, without my solicitation, made me
their in the coining cam
paign. "But 1 confess to you that I am proud
of the distinction. I confess, also, that lam >
a devoted and* unalterable friend of the'
Union. I hava no joslilify to foreigners; 1
have witnessed ther deplorublr condition in
the old country, antlgod forbid thaU should
The
free |
of this fact. 'Bubif we value the -blessings
which Providence, has so bountifully show- I
ered upon us, it bA-omes every American to
stand by the Constitution of this country,
and to resolve that, Aide pendent of all for
eign influence, Americans shuiband will rule j
Apiprica. [Loud and long applause.]
I feel, fellow-citizens,--"that 1 need hardly
allude to the importance of maintaining this
Union. I see the National flags floating from
yonder heights, which marks the consecrated
spot where, had his head-quar
ters: The.re was performed an act of moral
heroism, belore the braves deeds of
Alexander palej and with which the greatest
achievements ol ~ Bonaparte are not to be
compared. cheering.] It was
there, on that Aicred spot, now shaded by the
flag of u free Republic, that Washington re
fused a crown. [Great applause.] It was
there that the officers of the Army, after
our independence had been.achieved, made
him the offer of a cro\yn, which he indig
nantly tepefied. lam sure that I need not
urge upon you who live in sight of that flag,
the importance or dpty of. following the Fare
well Advice'ol dietFatfiC" •kjhij- Country,
to maintain the Uufott of the States as the
safeguard of our liflerilies at home and the
bulwarks of our defence against attacks from
abroad, f Cheers.] '
Again I thank you most sincerely for this
1 cordial welcome to tny native soil. [Cheers]
MR. FILLMORE AT ALBANY —HIS DENUNCIATION
OF TUB HEFUBLICANS.
Al Albany Mr. Fillmore responed to an
address Irotn Mayor Perry in the following
terms;
Mr. Mayor and Fellow Citizens: Tills over
whelming demonstration of congratulation
and welcome almost deprives me of the
power of speech. Here nearly thirty years
ago, 1 commenced my political career. In
this building I first saw a Legislative body
in session—[Cheers] —but al that lime it
uever entered into the aspirations ol my
heart that I should ever receive such a wel
come as this, in the Capitah of my native
Slate. [Cheers.]
You have been pleased, Sir, to allude to
former services and my probable course if I
should be agaiu called to the* position of
Chief Magistrate of the nation. [Cheers.]
Yon all know that when 1 was called to the
executive chair by a bereavement which
overwhelmed the nation with grief, that the
country was unfortunately agitated from one
end to life other upon the all-exciting sub
ject ol Shivery. It was then, Sir, that 1 fell
it my duty to rise above every sectional prej
udice and look to the welfare of the whole
nation. [Applause.] 1 was compelled to a
certain extent to overcome long-cherished
piejudices, and disregard parly claims. [Great
and prolonged applause.] But in doing this
Sir, I did uo more than was done by many
abler and better men than myself. 1 was by
no means rive soul inurrudMl, rmderProvt
dence, in harnfoiiiziug . those difficulties.—
[Applause ], There was at that time noble,
independent, high-souled men, in both
Houses of Congress, belonging to both the
great political parlies of the country, —Whigs
and Democrats,—who spurned the character
of selfish -party leaders, , cheers,] and ral
lied around my administration, in support of
the great measures which restored peace to
an agitated and distracted country. [Cheers]
By the blessings of Divine Providence, our
efforts were crowned with signal success,
[cheers,] and when I left the Presidential
chair, the whole uation was prosperous and
contented, and our relations with all foreign
nations were of the most amicable kind.—
[Cheers.] The cloud that hung upon the
horizon was dissipated; but where are we
now ? Alas! Threatened at home with oivil
war, and from abroad Wfih a rupture with
our peaceful relations. P SfWV not seek to
trace the cause of this change. These are
the facts, and it is for you to ponder upon
them. Or the present administration I have
nothing to say, and can appreciate the diffi
culties of administering this Government,
and if the present executive and his support
ers have with good intention and honest
hearts made a mistake, I hope God may for
give them as I do. [Loud and prolonged ap
plause.] . But if there be those who hare
| brought these calamities upon the country
' for selfish or ambitious objects, it is your
dulv, fellow-citizens, to hold them to a strict
responsibility.
The agitation which disturbed the peace
of the country in 1850 was unavoidable. It
was brought upon us by the acquisition of
new territory, for the government of which
it was necessary to provide Territorial Ad
ministrations. But it is for you to say wheth
er the present agitation, which distracts the
country and threatens us with civil war, has
not been recklessly and wantonly produced
by the adoption of a measure to aid in per
sonal advancement rather thau in any public
good. (Cheers.)
Sir, you have been pleased to say that I
have the union of these Slates at heart.—
This, Sir, is most true, for if there is <x>e ob
ject dearer to me than another, it is the uni
■is great Repub
iir, that 1 fear it
of any partiuu
) several candi
resume they are
r, what do we
g between the
most exciting
oodshed and or
e see a political
> fot the Presi
selected for the
;es alone, with
ng these candi
| da'es by suflrages of one part ol the Union
j only, to rule over the whole United States.— j
I Can it bo pussible that those who are en
-1 gaged in such a measure can have seriously
I reflected upon the consequences which must
inevitably follow in case of success? [Cheers]
Can they have the madness or the fully to
believe that our Southern brethren would
submit to be governed by such a Chief Mag
istrate? [Cheers.] Would he be required
to follow, the same rule prescribed by those
who elected him in making his appoint
ments? If a man living south of Mason and
Dixon's line be uot worthy to be President
jor Vice President, would it be proper to se
lect one from the same quarter, as one of
his Cabinet Council, or to represent the na
tion in a foreign country ? Or, indeed, to
collect the revenue, or administer the laws
of the United States? If not, what new
rule is the tyesident to adopt in selecting
men for office, that the people themselves
discard in selecting him ? Ttiese are 6erious !
but practical questious, and in order to ap- j
preciate them fully, it is only necessary to
turn the tables upon ourselves. Suppose that
the South having u majority of tho Elector
al votes, should declare that they would
only have slaveholders for President and
Vice President; and should elect such by
their exclusivo suffrages to rule over us at
the North. Do you think wo would submit
to it? No not lor a moment. [Applause.]—
And do you believe that your Southern breth
ren are less sensitive on this subject than
yon are, or less jealous of their righls?—
[Tremendous cheering.] It you do, let me
tell you that you are mistaken. And, there
fore, you must see that if this sectional par
ty succeeds, it leads inevitably to the de
struction of this beautiful fabric reared by
our cemented by their blood, and
bequeathed to us as a priceless inheritance.
1 tell you, rny friends, that I speak warm
ly uu this subject, lor 1 (eel that we are in
danger. lam determined to make a clean
breast of it. I will wash my hands of the
consequences, whatever they may be; and
' I tell you that we are treading upon the
brink ol a volcano, that is liable at any mo
-1 meat to bursl,forth and overwhelm the na
-1 lion. 1 might, by soft words, hold out d
' lusive hopes, aiid thereby win voles. But 1
can never consent to be one thing to the
North and another to the South. I should
despise myself if 1 could be guilty of such
evasion. [Tumultuous applause.] For rr.y
conscience would still ask, with The dtamatic
poet:
"Is there not some secret curse— [wrath —
Some hidden thunder red with immortal
To blast the wretch who owes hi greatness
To his oountry's ruin ? [Cheers.]
In the language of the lamented, immortal
CLAY —"t hud rather be right than bo Presi
dent." [Enthusiastic and prolonged cheers.]
It seeing to me impossible that those en
gaged in this, can have contemplated the
awlui of success. If it breaks
asunder the bonds of our Union, and spreads
anarchy and civil war through the land, what
is it less than moral treason? Law and com
mon sense hold a man responsible for the
natural consequences of his acts, and must
not those yvhose acts tend to the destruction
of the Government, be equally held respon
sible? [Applause ] And let me also add,
that when this Union is dissolved, it wilt not
be divided into two Itepublics or two Man
archies, but broken into lragmeuts and at
war with each other.
Bui, fellow-citizens, I have perhaps said all
that was necessary oil this subject, and 1 turn
with pleasure to a less important but more
agreeable topic. [Cheers.] It has been my
fortune during my travels in Europe, to wit
ness tftice or twice the reception of Hoy ally,
in all the pomp and splendor of military ar
ruy, where the music was given to order,
and the cheers at word of command. But
for myself I prize the honest, spontaneous
throb of affection with which you have wel
comed me baok to my native Slate, above
all the pageants which royally can display.—
[Cheers ] Theretore, with a heart overflow
ing *ith grateful emotions, I return you a'
thousand thanks and bid you adieu. [Pro
longed applause.]
Or The youngest member of the present
Congress is the Hon- William Cutnback, be
ing only 26 years of age.
From the Public Ledger.
"DIED OF EATING."
Such would be the verdict of a coroner's
jury, in but too muny cases, if coroner's ju* i
ries sat upon all persons, whether dying by
accident or in bed. If, in less fruitful laud*,
people often die by famiue, here we die of
too much eatinz. In New England, it is pies
and sweet cake that kill; in the Middle ,
States it is a surfeit of good beef; in the
South it is another thing ; in the West, still
another; everywhere it is 100 much eating.
The evil would be less if we were u more
active people. It may seem strange to ac
cuse Americans of a want ol activity; but
while they give the brains plenty to do, or
one set of muscles, they neglect everything
else. Tho lawyer sticks to his desk, the
minister to his study, tho shopkeeper In his
counter, the merchant to his store. They
eat and work, but take no recreation. They
reduce themselves to mere money-making
machines. They go one unvutiod round,
like horses in a mill. It is wonderful, that,
while living like hermits, yet gorging like
fox-hunters, they gradually lay the seeds of
diseases, varying accordingly to the profes
sions they follow, yet all originating in over
feeding, combined with neglect of exercise/
It is strange that they die ol too much eat
ing?
The season has cotne when thousands nl
citizens go out of town. Their ostensible
object is -the benefit of their health; ye t
many will come back, in consequence ol
excesses, far worse than they went. For
tunately, in this age, excess in drinking is
lesscummon than formerly, especially a
rnong those classes who ate in the habit of
annually going out of town; but the cognate
vice of excessive eating, if anything, is on
the increase. Gentlemen devour incredible
amounts of ovslers, eat lobster salad to a
miracle, indulge in terrapin without stint;
in a word, over task their digestive organs
in every way, andtheis express surprise that
that they have headaches, feel dull, or are
laid up with positive sickness. Ladies sur
feit themselves on pastry and cake; lake uo
exercise,except a bath, and not always even
thai; and then wonder why the sea shore,
the springs or the mountains do not agree
with them, while they are guilty of too much
eating.
We Ixave Temperance societies, Corson
leagues urnl Maine Law associations in plen
ty. But who will found a "Society" on the
discouragement of excessive 'eating,' which,
to be frank with reformers, we need almost
as much, liecollecl, wine bibbers and glut
tons anathematized io thy sutne breath. .
Tel man) a person who would not touch I
strong drink, dies at last u victim to eating. j
IN DEBI AM) HUT OF DEBT. ,
Of what a hideous progeny of ill is debt the !
father! What meanness, what invasion of j
self-respect, what cares, what trouble! How j
in due season, it will carve the frank open
face into wrinkles; how, like a knife, it will ;
stab the honest heart! flow it has been i
known to change a goodly face into a mask
of brass; bow, with the "doomed custom" |
of debt, bas the man become lite callous
trickster! A freedom of debt and what nour
ishing sweetness may be found in cold wa-'
ter; what loothsomeness in dry crust; what i
ambrosial nourishment in hard egg. Be sure !
of it, lie who dines out of debt, though his
meal be a biscuit and an onion, dines in I
"the Appollo." And then for raiment—what'
warmth in a thread-bare coat, if tbe tailor's
receipt be in your pocket! what Tytian pur
ple is the fadeu waistcoat, the vest not owed
i for! How glossy tbe well-worn hat, if it cov
ler not the aching debtor! Next the home
I sweets, the out-door recreation of the free
man. The street-door fallsnoia knell on his
heart; the foot on the stair-case, though he
live on the third pair, sends no spasm through
his anatomy ; at the rap of his Coor he can
crow forth, "come in," and his pulse still
beat healthfully, his heart" not sink into Ins
bowels. See him abroad. How he returns
look for look with any passenger, how he
saunters; how meeting an acquaintance he
stands and gossips?
But then this man knows not debt that oast)
a drug into the richest wine; that makes the j
food of the gods unwholesome, indigestible, I
that sprinkles tbe banquet of a LucuJlus with
ashes, and drops soot into the soup of an Em- j
peror; debt that like the moth makes value
less furs and velvets—inclosing the weaver j
in alesteriug prison, (the shirt of Nessus was |
a shirt not paid tor;) debt, that writes upon ,
frescoed walls the hand writing of >he altor- ]
ney, that puis a voice of terror in the knock
er; that makes lite heart quake at the flaunt
ed fireside ; debt, that invisible demon that
walks abroad with a man, now quickening
his steps, now making him look on all sides
like a haunted beast, and now bringing to his
face the hue of death as the uuconscions pas
senger looks glancingly upon him. Poverty
is a bitter draught, yet ntay and sometimes
will be gulped down. Though the drinker
make wry faces, there may, after all, be a
wholesome bitterness in the cup. But debt,
however courteously it be offered, is the cup
ol a syren, and the wine, spiced and delicious
though it be, is poison. The matt out of debt
though with a flaw in bis jorkin,.<a orack io
his shoe leather, and a hole in his hat, is still
the son of liberty, free as the single lark a
bove him; but the debtor, though clothed in
the utmost bravery, what is he but a serf out
upon a holy-day—a slave —to be reclaimed
at any iualani by his owner, the creditor.—-
My sou, if poor, see the wine running spring,
let thy mouth waler at least a week's rool,
think a thread-bare coat the "only ware,"
and acknowledge a white washed garret the
finest housing place lor a gentleman. Do
this, and flee from debt. So shall thy heart
be at peace, and the sheriff is confouoded.
[Two Dollars per Annua.
NUMBER
TRUST IN GOD'S PROVIDENCE.
Two men used lo work in the fields togeth
er. One was cheerful and happy, but the
other was always full of tears, and miserable.
The tearful one would say to hia companion,
"What would become of my children if 1
were to die?" And the other would try and
persuade him to be thankful that he was yet
able to woik, and to earn bread fur them; but
bo could not comfort him.
Now in the field in which they were at
work, they spied two nests on one bush, and
they used lo watch the old birds going in and
out all the day long, with food for their little
ones. And they often spoke lo each other
about the care of these birds for their young.
But one day, just as one of the old birds was
flying to his uesl, a hawk pounced down up
on him, and carried hiin away. And now the
poor rnuti had been miserable before,became
ten times more miserable. He could hardly
sleep all night, for thinkittg first of the poor
little birds thai had no parents lo feed them, -
then of his own children who would have uo
one lo work for them if he should die.
In the morning he went softly to the bush,
and looked in at the nests, for he thought he
should see the young birds in one of iho
nests dying. But he was astonished to see
that they were alive in both nests, und chirp,
ing us rneriily as though uo hawk had ever
came near them. He could not tell how it
could be ; so he sat down olose by to waloh
them. Presently he saw the old birds, be
longing lo one of the nests, fly in, and than
they went away, and came back with food
to the little ones in the nest; and so lhay
went all the day long. And he called his
companion, and almost wept for joy as he
showed him this thing. .
So they said to each other, that they would
imitate the birds, and work as well as they
could, each for his own family, so loug as he
was able; and if either of them should die,
or be unable to work, theu.lhe other would
go on and labor for both families.
What a blessed thing it would have been
for that poor, tearful man, if he had known
the kind words of the Saviour once opoke,
"Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings,
and not one of them is forgotten before God?
Four not therefore: ye ure.'of more value than
many sparrows."— PorlWAd Transcropt.
Pcruulou, I.uzff ne County Pu.
The town, which now contains between
5,000 and 6,000 'lnhabitants, was founded
i about ten years ago, by the Messrs. Scran
• ton, (after whotf.it is namedVwho were the
i heads'cf tin -anion C'oal /rnd Iron Com
) patty, no', possessing a capital of 81.000,000,
: empioyh-u < > using 70,000 tons of
| coal annually, -.tP II manufacturing 15,000
I tons of iron per year. The coal-field is the
i largest known, being 65 miles in length, with
| an average brsadth of six mileß, and a sup
! ply apparently inexhaustible. The field is
| mainly wotked by three companies—the
Delaware and Hudson Canal Company,
whose mines are located at Carboodale, and
who forward their coal by railroad to Hones
dale, and thence, by cattal to Ilondout and
New York; the Pennsylvania Coal Company,
{ whose works are at Pulsion, whence they
{ tiansport their coal by railroad, 45 miles to
Haw ley, on the Delaware and Hudson Ca
' rial, and thence lo market; and the Delaware,
Lackawanna and Western Railroad Com-
I pany. Tito town is prettily located, with
fine stores, large hotels, mammoth lactones
1 and tasteful dwellings, and is well supplied
with churches and means of moral influence.
There are four blast furnaces, and a fifth in
1 course of erection at an expense'of 830,000.
The machinery is driven by Norris & Co'*.
' immense engines ~of 2,000 horse-power,
1 while in the rolling mill, the several opera
! tions of making pig and bar iron, railroad
1 axels and rails, are daily progressing, besides
ail the new rails used by the Erie Company
—and all used in constructing the Delaware,
Lackawanna and Western, and Warren rail
roads, and in making the double track of the
New Jersey Central railroad are mauufaolur-
I ed here.
l'rinl it lo Letters oi Gold.
I A father whose son was addicted to some
i viscious propensities, bade the boy to drive a
; nail into a certain post whenever he commit
j ted a certain fault, and agreed that a nail
I should be drawn out whenever he corrected
! an error. In the course of lime the post was
| completely filled with nails,
I Tne youth became alarmed at the exteftt oi
; his indiscretions, and set about reforming
[ himself. One by one the nails were drawn
| out, the delighted father commended him for
his noble, sell-denying heroism, iu freeing
himself from his faults.
1 "They are all drawn oul," said the paretii.
The boy looked ead,and there was a wfcoJU
volume of practical wisdom ia hie ladueee.—
1 With a heavy heart he replied:
"True, father, but the scars are still there-"
Parents who would have their ohildren grow
sound and henhhy characters must sow the
seed at the fireside. Chytlable associations
can telorm the man, and perhaps, make a
useful member of society; but alas I the scars
are there! The reformed drunkard, gamb
ler and thief is only the wreck of the tnan he
' onee was—which will disfigure bis character
as long as he shall live.— Vollvr Turwf.
t3S*"A sentimental gent was describing
. with the tonderest emotion the last moments
, of a deceased friend, who was noted during
life for his meanness. "He drew me ten
derly towards his side, squeezed my hand,
and gave me his watch." "Did he?" said a
i bystander, "you are mistaken; you meant
I to say, he gave ine his hand and squeezed
his watch."