THE STAR OF THE NORTH. R. W. Weawr, rreprleter.] VOLUME 9. TIIE STAR OF THE NORTH I* PUBLISHED EVERT WEDNESDAY MOHNIKU BY It. IV. IVtiAVI.lt, OFFICE —Up stairs, in tke new brick build ing, on the south side oj Main Street, third square below Market. T" ER M s :—Two Dollars per annum, if paid Within six monllia from the time of sub scribing ; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the year. No subscription re ceived for a less period than six months; no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the editor. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square Will be inserted three times for One Dollar, •nd twenty-five cents for each additional in seition. A liberal discount will be made to those who advertise by the year. Cljoue {Joctrj}. I owe no manA DOLLAIV. BY CHARLES P. SHIRAB. Oh, do not envy, my own dear wife, The wealth of our next door neighbor, But tell me still to be stout of heart, And cheerfully follow my labor. You must know the last of '.hose little debts That have been our lingering sorrow, Is paid this night! So we'll both go forth, VVUb happier hearts to-moirow. Oh, the debtor is but a shame-faced dog, With the creditor's name on his collar; While I'm a king and you a queen, For I owe no man a dollar! Our neighbor YOU saw in the coach to-day, With his wife and h is flaunting daughter, While we sat down to our coverlesa board, To a crust tnd cup of water. I saw that the tesr-drop stood in your eye, Though-ynu tried your best to conceal it— I knew that tbe contrast resetted your heart, And you could not help but (eel it; But knowing now that our scanty fare Had freed my neck from the collar; You'll join my laugh and help me shout, For <ve owe no man a dollar ! Tbii neighbor whose show has dazzled your eyes, In fact is a wretohed debtor. I pity him oft from my very heirt, And wished that his lo 1 was better. Why, the man is ths veriest slave alive, For bis dashing wife and daughter Will live in style though ruin should come— , For he goes as the lomb to trie slaughter. BPI he leels it tighter every day, That terrible debtor's collar! Oh, what wbould he giveconld he say with us, That he owed no man a dollar! , Yon seem amazed, hut I'll tell you more, Within two hours I met him Sneaking sway wiih frightened air, As if a fiend had beset him; Yet he fled trom a very worthy man, Whom I met with the greatest pleasure, Whom I called by name and forced to stop, Though he Faid lie was not at leisure. He held my last note I So I held him fast, Till he Iteed my neck Irom the collar, Then I shook his hand as I proudly said, "Now 1 owe no man a dollar!" Ah! now yott smile, for you feel the forca Of the truths I have been repeating; I knew that a downright hones', heart lu that gentla breast was beating! To-morrow I'll rise, with a giant's strength, To follow my dsily labor; But, ere we sleep, let us humbly pray For our wretched next door neighbor; And we'll pray for tbe time when all shall be free From the weight of the debtor's collar- When the poorest shall lift up his voice and cry "1 owe no man a dollar!" fU i•t ell atteo nO. Idle of un Engineer. The life of a railroad engineer is graphical ly depicted in the following extract from the i Schenectady Star ; " But the engineer—he who guides the train by guiding tbe iron borre, and almost • holds tbe lives ol passengers in his hands— , his is a life of mingled pain and pleasure, in | a little seven-by-nine apartment, with square ' holes on each side for windows, open behind and with machinery lo look through ahead, yoa find kirn. He is the " Pathfinder;" he ( leads the way a! all limes of danger, checks . the iron horse, or causes it to speed ahead 1 with the velocity of the wind, at will. Have j you ever stood by the Hack, of a dark night,! and witched the coming and passing of a train? Away off in the darkness you discov. ar a light, and you hear a noise, and the earth j trembles beneath your feel. The light comes | nearer; you can compare i< to nothing but j the devil himself, with its terrible whistle;, the eparks you imagine come from Beelze-1 bub's nostrils—the fire enderneath, that' shines closs to the ground, causing you to I bslieve the devil walks on live coals. It | comes close to you; you back sway and shndder; you look up, and almost on the devil'* back rides tbe engineer ; perhaps the "inaobine" shrieks, and yon may imagine the engineer is applying the spar to the dev il's sides. A daring fellow, ibal engineer— you can't help' saying so, and you wonder wherein lies tbe pleasure of being an engi neer. But to be goes, day after day, night after night. Moonlight evenings he sweeps over the country, through cities and villages, through fairy seanes and forest clearings. He look* through the square holes at the side i and enjoys tbe moonlight, but he cannot stop te enjoy the beauty of the scenery. Cold; rainy, muddy, dark night, it is the seme Perhaps the track* are undermined or over flowed with water; pet haps some scoundrel* have placed some obstructions in the way, or trees been overturned across the track ; mad, in either case, it is almost instant death —to him, at least but be ttops not. Bight on i* the word with him, and on be goes, re gantlets of danger, weather, end everything, save lb* well-doing of his dety. Think ol bin, jr* who shodder through fear in the cushioned seats of the cars, and gel warm from tbe fire that i* kindled for your benefit. OT When the Irishman first tried peach es, he eaid he liked their flavor, but the seed* lay hard on bis stomach. BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, Fg* WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29, 1857. ELECTION OF COUNTY SUPERIN TENDENTS. This may be the last No. of our Journal that will meet the eyes of Directors before tbey assemble to elect Coonty Superintend ents for the next three school years. The proper performance of that duty, so as to ef fect the original design of the libera! and far-seeing Legislature which established the office, will be of incalculable benefit to tbe Slate; and tbe contrary will be equally inju rious. It is, therefore, our design, as nr-e amongst the thousands of Pennsylvanians who are watching the wotkingvof this new feature in our educational system with in tense interest, frankly to stale the conclusions lo which our observations have led. Three years ago, few Directors or others had any clear view of the necessity, nature, mode of opetaiion, or probable results ol Ibis office. Tbe natural consequences were, in the first instance, numerous mistakes io selection and compensation. These have been, we think erroneously, attributed, in and out of the State, to a settled purpose to defeat the office, out of general hostility to the system itself. In a few cases, feel ing may have had tt influence; but im most, the action complained of really grew out of : %nete want of knowledge of the naiure of the office itself, and an honest belief that such an addition to the expense and the working machinery of the system was wholly unnecessary. Whatever may have been the cause, it ia certain that tbe duly of selecting County Superintendents was so performed as to produce one of tbe three following results: ! Either, 1. ASA incompetent person was chosen, who failed, no matter what the salary. Or, 2. A competent person was chosen, who j failed, or was crippled in his operations, by j total inadequacy of salary. Or, 3. A competent person was selected, with adequate salary, who fulfilled the just expec tations of the Iriends ol the law. From this it would appear that fitness in (he person and adequacy of compensation ' aro the elements—the essential conditions— of success. Of course, as in all other com- ; plcx affairs, there are instances that appear : lo conflict with this conclusion; but on close inspection they will be found raiher to con-1 firm it. For example: one Superintendent' may have been so well qualified for Ihe sta- | lion, and so devoted to the system; that he ' discharged iis duties at a most shamefully inadequate salary. But who will argue from : this, that it is the right of the public to im- j pose such a burthen on private means or in- ! dividual patriotism! Or it may Lave been that all the conditions appeared to be secur- \ ed—both adequacy of salary and "skill and experience in the art of teaching"—yet fail ure ensued. But who will condemn the of fice, becanse, here and there, a good teacher! may have made a poor Superintendent!— Many an able lawyer makes s miserable Judge; few of the most successful practising physicians are qualified top the Professor's Chair; so a capital teacher of boys may not succeed as Teacher of Teachers and admin istrative officer of a complicated school sys tem. It wontd be no difficult task to run over i the whole State and show the correctness of the conclusions just stated. Bat it is Deither proper not necessary. Taking it (or granted, that experience has i fully justified the wisdom of the Legislature | ia requiring the selection of a fit ptrson and i the payment of a sufficient salary, for this ■ office, two questions arise: ' 1. Who is a fit person for the office! ! 2. What is a sufficient salary ! I 1. 'Literary and scientific acquirements.' These are both indispensable, and the de gree of them should be considerable. In | every county, schools of every rank and , grade—from the lowest primary to the high 1 school, with its full round of branches—are | or must soon come into existence; and to ! discharge tbe office properly, the Scperin | lendent must be qualified "to examine" all I the Teachers, "to visit" them, and a "give ] such instructions in tbe art of Teaching and ] the method thereof iq each school" as the : condition and grade of each shall require.— ! How can this be done, except by one wbo | is scholar enoogb to teach the Teacher of 1 the highest branch taught in tbe highest school in his county! I 2. "Skill and Experience in the Art of Teaching," it another requisite—not only sk ill to know, but practice to do. It is no doubt true, that, in some instances, the office has been well filled by persons of uo great actual experience in the art. This is owing to the known fact that soma men have nst urally in them so much of the elements of the Teacher, and inch a love for the work and the csuse, as to supply, to a great degree all other defects. But tbe exception only proves the rule, for the instance of faiti.re for want of this element have been too no l merous lo leave Ihe question doubtful. But mere learning and profesaional skill aro not sufficient, unless, aa the law and the neces sity ol' the case everywhere intimate, they are accompanied with power to m>ke them efficient. Hence, 3. Ability to impart knowledge, and give information, poblicly as well as privately, is indispensable. Since the passage of the act of 1854—in addition to the public meetings for the examination of Teachers, and the visitation of schools in tbe preseoce of di rected and parents thereby prescribed—the holdiog of district acd county Institutes, As sociations and Meetings, for the improve ment of Teachers, aad the delivery of pub lic lectures end addressee for the furtherance of the system end tbe explanation of tbe law, have become so general, and are foond to be so beneficial, that tbey may now be regarded as an integral part of the Superin tendent's duties. All these occasions impose the duty of addressing tbe public; and the officer who does not do it, fails io his doty. Some ability therefore to speak in pob'ic should be embraoed among Ihe requisites of fitness for the office. 4. Energy of character and love for the work, are the last essentials that need be specified. Without these, the highest de gree of echolaatic attainment, of professional skill, and of power of expression, will fail, i for the great moving forces of the required character will bo wanting. With these pres ent in large degree, even a medium of quali fications in other respects may succeed. Amongst the qualifications necessity to this most important office, it is, of course, not deemed requisite to speak of temper ance, honesty or indns'ry, nor of common sense, suavity of manners, or knowledge of human nature. These are requisites lo the safe and efficient discharge of every public trust; the one iu question being no exception lo the general rule, but rather demanding them in greater degree than roost others.— In a word, and aside from special requisites, the nearer the character of a County Super- i lendent approachea to that of the Christian i gentleman, the gieater will be bis acceptance and success. The answer lo the question, What is an adequate salary ! will depend mainly on the locality; and the experience of the past three years will, in many cases, modify past action ■ on this point. Mary of the Conventions ( | fixed ihe salary in 1834, nnder a total or ' very material misapprehension of the nature ' of the office, the amount of service required ! end the degree of good to be effected. Now, | in many parts of the State, all these points ' 1 are clearly comprehended, and the action of j | the directors will no doubt be different. No j I one who knows the people of Pennsylvania 1 1 will, for a moment, suppose that injustice j j will be done in regulaling the compensation ol those who ere found to be amongst the i most useful, most laborious and most impor 1 tant of our public agents. The salary must, as just remarked, depend on (ho circum stances of each case; still, certain general 1 principles are indicated by the nature of Ihe I | office and the wants of the schools, which I it may be useful to elicit. I The first point to be determined is, wheth ! er the whole, or only a portion, ol the of ficer's time will he required for the full dis- I charge ol the office. This will wholly de- I pend on the number of schools in Ihe coun- I ty. If they are materially over 100 and ! should be increased, then tbe best policy : and the course most productive of good, - will be to pay for his whole lime and ser vices. Io such cases more than half of tbe year may be most beneficially devoted lo | school visitation, which, to be effectual, i should he full and frequent. The rest of the . , year can be profitably devoted to Ihe improve ment of the Teacners in one or more fnsti ; lutes of greater of less duration, to tbe offi cer's own improvemeat and to (be prepara tion of his reports, &c. In smaller counties a less portion of the officer's lime will be needed, and Ihe salary may be in proportion; but in all cases enongb | should be given to secure his whole lime ! : and efforts lo Ihe service of tbe schools while | in operation, and to the improvement of the , teachers during a portion of the recess. I I The only other general principle to be kept 1 i in view in eiranging the salary, ia /hat ol ' ; making it large enough to command the ' very best professional talent within the reach of tbe Convention. For reasons already giv en, no other should be ibougbt of. The man, then, whom Law, Experience and the Wants of the System demand for ' j County Superintendent, is: A practical Ttach -1 er, who is also an accomplished scholar, and a ' ready public speaker; With sufficient love for it j ' to undertake, and energy lo perjorm, the great , icoii before him; and the salary should be suf -1 ficient to compensate him, as far as money can, for the efficient discharge of so great a labor. '; Wherever such a man is found, he should ' be selected. Wherever he has already been ' found, he should be retained. I At ihe pirsenl lime it may be proper to re ' call to tbe attention of Conventions to elect ' County Superintendents, that Section 40 of II tbe school law of Btb May, 1854, confers 1 j upon the State Superintendent of Common I Schools, very considerable powers in refer fleece to lbs commissioning of lbs persons ' 1 elected. The words alluded to are these: > I "If objection be made witbio thirty daya ' | lo the issuing of such commission, tbe Su 1j perimedent of Common Schools may re- E quire such evidence, unddr oath or affirma ' tion, in regard lo the election or qualification f of the person eleoted County Superintendent, : as he shall deem necessary, and shall then 1 issue his commission lo the person properly ' qualified who shall have receivsd the high ' est number of voles." Under Ibis provision it is competent for I any citizen, and it would seem lo be bis du t ty, to make objection to the commissioning - of an unqualified person, and to sot in one r ration, for tbe good of lbs system in this rs t spect, the powers vested in the Slate Super intendent. lo view of this fsct, tbe true > course for Directors in their Convention will 1 be, to vote for nooe unless sugk as ljy learn -1 ing and professional skill are folly qualified 1 lo discharge all tbe duties of tbe office.— 1 Pennsylvania School Journal for April. , IT IS SAID or PARIS tbat one of every three thousand persons commit suicide ; that two thirds of the population cannot afford the ■ expense of burial; that in every three births . one is illegitimate; that 30,000 persons be , sides those assisted by regular charities, arise every morning without knowing how 1 they will get a dinner, aod that 1T,004 ha • bitual drunkards, of tha most brutal char- I scter, disgrace the city. Trath and Right 6*4 "id v ClHtrj* A SWEDISH TALE. TRANSLATED TROM TUB GERMAN OT HKBCL. In Fstun, a mining town in Sweden, a han dled years or more ego, a young miner kiss ed his fair bride and said to her: " On St. Lucia'* day our love will be blessed by the priest's band. Then we shall be hus band and wile, and we wilt build u* a neat little nest of our own." "And peace and love shall dwell in it," •eld the beautiiul bride, with a sweet smile, 'for thou ar: my ell in all, and without Ibee 1 would choose lo be in my grave." But when the priest, io proclaiming their bans in the church for the second time before St. Lucie's day, pronounced the werds, "If, now, any one can show reason why these persons should not be united in the bonds of matrimony," Death was at young man, as he passed ber house dext morning in bis black mining gsrb, already wore bis shroud. He rapped upon her window end said good morning,—but be never returned to bid her good evening. He never came back from the mine, and ail in vain she em I broidered for him a black oravat with a red i border, for the wedding day. This she laid ■ carefully away, and never ceased to mourn or weep for him. Meanwhile, time passed on; the Seven Years' War was fought; the partition of Po land took place; America became free; the French revolution and the long war began ; ' Napoleon subdaed Prussia, and the English . bombarded Copenhagen. Tbe husbandman ' sowed and reaped, the miller ground and the smith hammered, and the miners dug after | the veins of metal in their subterranean work ! shops. As the miners cf Falun, in the year eighteen hundred and nine, a Utile before or ! after St. John's day, were excavating an open ' ing between two shahs, full three hundred ells below the ground, they dog from the rub ' bisb and vitriol water, the body of a young man, entirely saturated with iron vitriol, but otherwise nndecayed and unaltered—so one could distinguish bis features and age as well as if he had died only Hn hour before, ; or had fallen asleep for a little wnile at bis ' work. ! But when tl.ey had brought him out to the light of day, father and mother, friends and acquaintances, had long been dead ; no one could identity the sleeping youth, or tell any* thing of his misfortune, till she came who ws once tbe betrothed of that miner who had one day gone to the mine and never re lumed. Grav and shriveled, she came to the place hobbling npon a crutch, and recognized ber bridegroom, when more in joyful ecsiaey than pain, she sank Sown upon <he beloved form. As soon as she had recovered her composure, she exclaimed, "It is my betroth ed, whom I have mourned for fifty years, and whom God now permits me to see once 'more before I die. A week before the wed ding time he went nnder the earth and never returned." All ihe bystanders were moved to tears, as they beheld the former bride, a wasted and feeble old woman, and the bridegroom still in the beauty of youth ; and bow, after the lapse of fifty years, her youthful love awoke again. But he never opened hi* mouth to smile, nor his eyes lo recognize ; and she, finally, as the only one belonging to him, and having a right to him, had bim carried lo her own little room,till a grave could be prepared in the church yard. The next day, when all was ready, and Ihe miner* came to take him ' away, she opened a little drawer, and taking | ! out the black silk cravat, lied it around his neck, and then accompanied him in IterSan day garb, as if it were their wedding day and not the day of his burial. As they laid him in the grave in the churchyard, she said— " Sleep well now, for a few days, in thy cold ' bridal bed, and let no', the time seem long to | thee. I have now but little more to do, and will come soon,and then it will b day again." Aa she was going away, she looked back once more and said, " What the earth has once restored, it will not a second time with hold." Decisive Bellies of Ihe World. The decisive battles of the world, those of which, to us* Hallam'e words, "a contrary event would have essentially varied the dra ma ol the world io all its subsequent scenes," are numbered as fifteen by professor Creasy, who fills ihe chair of ancient and modern hi*- | tory of the University of London. They are the grand subject ol two volumes by him, jqst from Benlley's press. These battles are : 1. Tbe battle of Marathon,'fought 490 B. C., in which the Greeks under Tbemistoclev, defeated lite Persians under Darius, thereby turning back a tide of Asiatic invasion, which else wuuld have swept over Europe. 2. Tbe battle of Syracuse, 413 B. C., in which lbs Athenian power was broken, and the West of Europe saved from Greek dom* inalion. 3. The battle of Arbella, 331 B. C., in which Alexander, by the defeat of Darina, establish ed his power in Asia, and by the introduction of European civilization produced an effect which as yet may ba traced tbere. 4. The battle of Metaurae, fought 207 B. C., in wbieb tbe Romans nnder Consul Nero defeated the fartbagenians under Hasdrubal, and by which tbe supremacy of the great re public was established. 5. The Viktory of Arminus, A. D. 9, over the Roman legions Under Varus, which se cured Gaul from Roman domination. 6. The battle of Chalons, A. D. 451, In which Actios defeated Atilla the Hun, Ihe self-styled "Scourge of God," and saved Eu rope irom entire devastation. The battle of Toore, A. D. 732, in which Charles Her el, by the defeat of the Saracens averted tbe Mahommedan yoke from Eu rope. 8. The battle of Hastings, A. D. 1086, in which William of Normandy was victorious over the Anglo-Saxon Harold, and the result of which was the formation of tbe Anglo- Norman nation, which is now dominaat in Europe. 9. The battle of Orleans, A. D. 1429, in which the English were defeated, and the in dependent existence of Franoe seemed. 10. The defeat of the Spanish Armada, A. D. 1588, which crushed tbe hopes of Papacy in Eugland. 11 The battle of Blenheim, A. D. 1704, in which Marlborough by the defeat of Tallard, broke the power and crushed Ihe ambitiuus schemes of Louis XIV. 12. The defeat of Charles XII, by Peter (b Great, t Follows, A. D. 1709, which se cured ihe stability of the Muscovite empire. 13. The battle of Saratoga, A. D. 1777, in which Genera! Gates defeated General Bur goyne, and which decided the fate of the American revolutionists, by making France ihtir ally, and otber European powers friendly ' to them. 14. The battle of Valmy, A. D. 1609, when the continental allies, under the Duke of Brunswick, were defeated by lb* French un der Dumourier, without which the French revolution wnuld have been stayed. 15. The battle of Wateiloo, A. D. 1815, in which the Duke of Wellington hopelessly detested Napoleon, and saved Europe Irom bis grasping ambition. A Funny Threat!. "John Phoenix," a most quizzical writer, lately (nok a trip from Boston to New Orleans and gives an account of tbe same in (be Knickerbocker Magazine. John gives an account of a meeting be tween a fellow passenger and Ills wife, at New Orleans. He was accompanied by his old friend Butierfield, who had joined him at Memphis; he landed at New Orleans, and proceeded forthwith the St. Charles Hotel.— At this great tavern Bnlterueld expected lo meet bis wife, who had arrived from Cala fornia, to rejoin him after a thiee months' separation. Phcenix says: " I have never seon a man so nervous.— He rode on the outside of the coach with the driver, that he might obtain the earliest view of the building that contained his adored one. It was with great difficulty that I kept pace with him as be 'inmultnoudy rushed' up the steps leading to the Rotunda. In an instant he was at the office, and gasping 'Mr*. But terfield.' 'ln the parlor, sir,' replied Dan, and he was off. 1 followed and saw him stop with surprise as he cams to the door. In the centre of the parlor stood Mrs. Butierfield.— That Admirable woman had adopted the very latest and most voluminous style ; and having nr. a rich silk of greenish hue, looked like a lovely bust on the summit of a new mown haystack. Butierfield was appalled for a moment, but hearing the cry "Amos," he answered hys terically, "My Amander!" and rushed on. He ran three times around Mrs. Butierfield, but it was of no use, he couldn't in. He tried to climb her, bnt tho hoops gave way and frustrated the attempt. He extended his arms to her; she held jut hers to him ; tears were in their eyes. It was the most affecting thing I ever witnessed. Finally, Mrs. But terfield sat down, and Amos got behind the chair and kissed her, until their offspring, by i howling and biting the calf of his leg, crested a diversion. Tltey were very happy, so were the people in the parlor. Everybody appear ed delighted; and a small, boy a year or two older than little Amos, jumped up and down j like a whip-saw, and halloa'd 'Hoop-ee' with all his might. 'Butierfield,' said I, an hour or two later, 'I inspect that Mr*. Bulterfield has adopted hoops.' 'Oh! yes,'answered he, 'I saw that slick ' ing out. Perhaps it will obvia'.e the little tendency she bad to 'blow up.' 'l'm glad of it.'" Tbe Pacific Wagon Bonds. The Secretary of tbe interior is poshing for ward rapidly the arrangements for a vigorous prosecution of ihe Pacific wagon toad recent ly provided for by Congress. Tbe road is di vided into five sections, each of which has a superintendent lb construct it. Mr. W. E. Nobles will construct the roscl from Fort Ridgely to the South Pass, and return over the Platte road to Fort Kearney; Mr. M. F. Magraw, of Missouri, will consltuct the Fort Kearney and Honey Lake road as far as the City Rocks; John Kirk, ol California, will complete this road from City Rocks lo Henry Lake Valley, working from the Calafornia side; the road from El Paso to Fort Yuma has been plaoed unter the supervision of Mr. James B. Leeoh, of Texas; from Fort Defi ance to the Colorado is assigned to Mr. Beale. A new Bureau has been established to take immediate charge of tbe business of the road and Mr. B. H. Campbell, civil engine*!, has been placed at its bead. These wagon roads will enable the Gov , ernmer.t lo trsusport with greater facility mil itary stores and troops to our distant poeees . sions. Tbe power of the Government and lb* security of lbs laws will be extended to . everp quarter of the country. Tbey may be , regarded as the sore precursors of tbe stream of populatioa and civilization wbiob will i spread over tbe whole extent of the oountry i from our prase at western border* to the Pa cifie, ami will be followed in good tiro# by a railroad connecting the eastern and waste qt , divisions of tbe United St alas io closet union. . —Mf** T ALLEY HAND'S APUURWU. Oar welcome to a stranger depends upon the name he been—npon the coat he wearr, our farewell upon tbe spirit be be* displayed in the interview. There is so great a charm in friendship, that there it even a kind of pleasure ic ac knowledging ounelf duped by (he sentiment it inspires. Unbounded modesty is nothing mora than unavowed vanity ; tha too hnmble obeisance ia sometimes a disguised impertinence. Ths reputation ol a man is like bis shadow —gigantic when it precedes bim, and pigmy in its proportion when it follows. Beauty, devoid of grace, is a mere book without a bait. He who cannot feel friendship is alike in capsble of love. Let a woman beware of the man own* that be love* uo one but her self. Tbe Count de Coigny possesses wit and talent, but hi* conversation it faligueing, be cause hia memory is equally exact in quoting the death of tbe PtincesadeGuemenee'e poo dle. To contradict and argue with a total stran ger, ie like knocking at e gate to ecertaiu if there is any on* within. The love of glory can only create a halo ; the contempt of it create* a great man. The error* of great men, and tha good deeds of reprobates, should not be reckoned in our estimates of their respective charac ter*. It is aomething'quite enough for ■ man to feign ignorance of that which' he know* to gain the reputation of knowing that of which he is ignorant. Both erudition and agriculture ought to be encouraged by government; wit sod manu factures will come themselves. Too much sensibility creates unhappineea; 100 much insensibility creates crime. It is an attribute of true philosophy never to force the progress ol truth and reason, but lo wait till the dawn of light; meanwhile, Ihe philosopher may wander into hidden paths, but be will never depart from Ihe main track. A generous man will place the benefits he confers beneath his feet—those he receives nearest his heart. "The Woild owes me a Living'" That's false, sir I It doesn't owe you a farthing. You owe the world for the light of its days, the warmth of its sunshine, the beauty of its earth and sky, and for its love, oflections and friendships, clustered around and clung to your worthless trunk. For all these, and other blessings of coontless num bers, you are n debtor. You have never even thanked God for health and life. You never made the world better for your living. You owe for the breath you breathe and the ttrengm you enjoy. You have nothing to your credit on the day book or ledger of life —not a cent. Yon have never taken a dol lar's stock in Heaven. You are a miserable, aimless, indolent bankrupt. You float down the stream of your lazy existence like flood wood on water. Were you to sink to-day to oblivion, yon would not leave a bubble. The world owes you a living ! Where is there a manly thought uttered, or a noble deed performed! Where are there evi dences of your labor? Nowhere. Yon are loungicg through life with your hands in your pockets, an indolent loafer, swearing and slavering nonsense. Yon drink, gamble ahd chew tobacco, bnt never earned your board. A pile of lumber would be of more account, for that could be worked iuto forms of usefulness and beauty; but you will not make anything of yourself, or allow society lo do it. A world of such as yon would be the place lo live in, indeed! You have degraded our common manhood, instead of ennobling end elevating It, and in nothing but the form and vulgar speech, are you above the brutes that perish. And because you ate too lazy to work, you claim that the world owes you a living! Don't tell that lie again, you shtgzirdl— The world or society would not suffer loss were lightning to strike you, or the oholera to take you off. Tbere are too many of such. Were you treated ae drones are treated in the hives, you would bave been kicked out of creation years ago. You are a sponge, swollen with what you have absorbed Irom society. You dwarfed tbe intellect given you, and neglected liia endowment it would have brought you. So effectually have you wasted the boon of life, (hat unless your bonvs shall go to the dissecting room, and your picked caresss as a fertilizer upon some God forsaken spot, yon have passed through life to no purpose. The tobacco you have chewed, has only defiled everything around you, and the liqaor you have drank has only been adulterated by your miserable, and vile nature turned into rowdyism and pro fanity. You contamii.ate everything you touch, and even those like yon, will keep their children from the leprosy of your teach ing acd example. No, sir, yon owe the world a better life.— Yon never can pay all the debt, but you can do belter end commute for twenty-five centa on tbe dollar. Do and aay something ooble and manly I and (or some honorable purpose, •nd not inhale God's pure air for nothing, and grunt through existence like a hog, hav ing only two aims io life—to reacb the bar and dinner table; aod only two attributes— to eat to gluttony and drink to drunkenness. Tbe world owe* no socb e man a living. OT A lady told her husband aha read the "Art of Love," qa purpote to be agreeable to him. "I had xathe* have love without art," replied he- [Tw Dollars per Annu. NUMBER 15. From the Public ledger. WHAT IM INSTINCT. It is no unprofitable study in natural his tory to trace back the history of an instinct. Teach a spaniel to beg for food, and you often trace in its pups a tendency to tha samo habit. Let a setter be trained to set, and its progeny will do so instinctirely, though they may never even witness the action performed. The chicken, though countless generations, pick up crumbs and insects from the ground, while the wood pecker, with beak adapted for it, sits "tap ping the hollow beecn tree." We may take the eggs of the duck, and the unconscious hen will ait upont&em and hatch them, and guard the progeny ss # her own; but no sooner have these littls ones cracked the shell, than by the inward impulse, they seek for the water and swim ofT, to the infinite terror of the poor hen who hatched them, and who vainly tries to lure them away from what seems to hat to be their certain destruciion. This wisdom of the web foot, this pro pensity, or instinct, whence comes Neither by education nor example, that it ' clear; neither is it anything communicated by the hen, nor her life, nor her instinoU in any way transferred; neither is it any pe culiarity in the matter of the egg, as analy sis could probably show. Is it then the re sult of organization? And if so, what does this mean but the result of motion t If we take an egg, and put the wet tip of the tongue to the large end of it, ws at once become sensible of a gentle heat, if the egg is alive. This is then the germ of all the after vibrations of life, stimulated by the vital warmth of the hen, and these pulsa tions transmit the instinctive tendency that impels the duck to the water, embodying a kind of memory, or impulse, from former generations, quite distinct from that of the hen. These vibrations organize the fluid of the egg into a form corresponding with the idea of which lite whole past suggests as the intended future of the bird. The uneducated but honest Christian sees or thinks lie sees, in this, however, the im mediate finger of God, a part of the all per vading mind of Him in whom we live and move, and have our being; His -1 wisdom directly imparting wisdom to each creature according to its wants. But, as we have already seen, a more ex tended observation will indicate to a reflect ive mind that instinct is, after all, a part, at least the result of fixed laws, and but an in nate tendency to reproduce actions that are habitual in the parent. And this very law, , so faf from allowing us to lose sight of a designer, will conduct us back to a precon certing mind, comprehending, arranging and rewarding all actions, so that each vio lation shall consolidate into an habitually recurring purpose, each purpose into an in stinct, and each instinctive habit shall en tirely mould even the physical system in accordanto with the whole—sharpening the beaks and hollowing the bones of birds, giv ing web feet to water fowl and claws to beasts of prey, the immaterial thns forming the material. If then the differences of instincts are all merely those of development of the inten tions and habits of the varions animals, through the course of ages apl generations, and if every exercise of every habit has in it the tendency to reproduce itself and to become hereditary and instinctive, it in no measure lessens the marks of a purpose in creation. Should it seem to remove us a step further from the designer, it only thus enables us to take broader views of His pro found design. DIGGING WELLS IN QUICKSAND—HOW TO MAKE A CUES.— The following from a Mich igan piper, is ■ simple end ingenions meth od for the construction of the curb] "When they came to the water, as WM ' always the ease there on the opening*, they found en abundance of quicksand. So to stop that out they went to the woods and out a white oak tree about three feet over, end cut off three feet of the butt, then mark off about three inchee thick around the outside, and solil it off in pieces like stave bolts, be ing careful to number tbera so at to set them up, hoop them together—having first chain pered off the ontside so as to sharpen the lower end, then let them down into the quicksand, a little at a lime, being eareful to keep them to their natural place, dipping out the sand from the inside, and thus settling tbem down till tha top was even witb the wa ter Being under water it would never rot out, and the thickness of the staves would prevent them from ever moving oot of, their plaee. It kept the ssnd out perfectly, the water came in from the bottom, and, after tha first six months, was as clear ss the crystal . fountain." A NEW LAW IN OHIO.— A bill has become a law in Ohio which provides that all prop erty held for religious purposes shall be deemed to be the property of the congre gation and shall be held by a corporation for that purpose, for organizing which the bill also provider, but in cases where it haa already been deeded td on individual, for the church, exclusive of any rights of the congregation, it may remain in his hands till his death or removal; after which it must pasa into the possession of tha con templated Corporation. But if ho auoh CON poration has been formed, it shall past to the State, to be held in trust for the erftgie. gation. This, af coarse, would interfere with the present system of holding property among the Catholic*.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers