111 fiSiilii'M w
JHf '.'v fcfl ', Lil? O . PI IS E O fen
.-sisy t 1 in m in-.-' t i j l n if ;i ;n i
;. ' 'COME AND TAKfi ME. Dcvivier.
CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 1-3, 1854.
WO. 23-
VOL. 1.
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RAFTSMAN'S JOURNAL.
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Jr. annum, (payab'e in advance,) 51 50
If paid within the year, ...... . 2 00.
No paper discontinued until all arrearages are
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ed a new engaemnr. ' - '
' " TI1E RAINY DAY.
,' SY tl. W.. LOS1FKLLOW. . ,
The da; in cold, and dark, and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine Hill clings to the niould'rin wall,
And at ev'ry jcust the dosd leaves fall,
And the day It dark and dreary.
My life isecld. and dark, and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary ;
My thoughts 3fill cjicg to the raould'ring past.
And the hopes of my youth fall th isk on the blast.
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be till. w.d heart, and cease repining.
Behind the clouds is the sun still shiing ;
Your fate U the common fate of all,
In erery life some rain must fall.
Borne days mn?t be dark and dreary.
THE ISLE AND STAR.
In the tropical sea.
There" a beatiful Isle,"
Where storms never darken
The sunlight's toft inil.
There tho hymn.of the breete :
And the hymn of the stream
Are mingled id one, . -
. Like sweet sounds in a dream.
Thre the Tons-birds at morn. -
From thick shadows start.
Like musical thoughts ;
From the poet's full heart
There the song-birds at noon,
Kit in silence unbroken,
Like an exquisite dream
In the bosom unspoken.
There tbe flowers bang like raiubowa '
On wildwood and lea
Ob.' tav, wilt thou dwell
In taat tweet Isle with me? -In
the depths of the sky
There's a beautiful star.
Where no cloud casts a shadow, -
The blight scenes to mar. . -.
Thre rainbows ne'er fads.'
- And th' dews are ne'er dry,! '
And & cirolet of in ions :
' Ever shines in the sky.
There the songs of the blest r ;
And the ongs of the sphere.
Are tiac -asir.iy heard
Through the infinite years..' .
There :La aoftairs float down .
Fr"m the amaranth bowers, .
All fresh with the perfume
Of Eden's own flowers. '
There truth, love anl beauty
Immortal will be
Oh ar. wilt thou dwell
In that sweet isle with me?
(Drigintil ' Jlloral Calr.
WIUTTKS FOR TBE JOttNI- J
COrtXIGHT SECURED.
. CHAPTER XI.
The KrapL'ror, a stucd, has seated himself
upon tho great pyramid.il throne, in the cen
tre of the Forum, surrounded by a strong,
frowning guard, clad in bright, glittering ar
mour. The great hall of the court is brilliantly il
luminated, and fllled with a dense mass r
citizens, of all sexes and classes.
Directly in front of the throne, and under
the full blaze of an immense chandelier, is
seated, pensive and nationless as the Idols be
fore them, the little group, whose melancholy
fate has drawn together the vast assemblage.
. Upon thtse, juat at this moment, the red
bleery eyes of the Emperor are fixed ; and
with a constant grin playing over his swarthy,
leaden features, he is surveying them with
fiendish sort of delight.
He is about to begin thsir trial; and, per
haps, he is marking out some with whom to
.oinmene-2.
Before, however, sketching this scene of
imperial cruelty, it may bti well to notice a
few cf the crimes alleged against the accused ;
and,, on account of which, they have been
ruthlessly dragged before this august tribunal.
They are charged with laying two-thirds of
Rome in ashes. This is the principal accusa
tion. In addition, however, to this, within
the past few days, the most slanderous reports
had been industrially circulated,, and there
is scarcely a crime of any enormity with which
tLey wera not directly charged. Among many
other things, they were accused of meeting in
secret places at night, to indulge ' in licenti
ousness, revelings, and drunkenness; as being
cf a rebellious, turbulent spirit ; hostile to the
empire, and plating the Emperor's death.
" These, and other things, equally false and
landeroug, had, chiefly at the instigation of
the Emperor hiruse'f, been circulated by his
laves and soldiers; and which, the mass of
the credulous Romans believing had stirred
up a feeling of the most bitter and deadly hos
tility, throughout tr.c city, and among all
daises.- "" " ;. '
The question, "however, mostly proposed at
their trial, was simply whether they were
Nax'.renes I . SonietSaies, to give brevity to
the proceedings, they were merely command
ed to bow io the images before them. A de
nial of the former was mostly tested by the
Utter : and verv often were the proceedings
o hurried and informal, that tbe accused had
acarc t.m ta reply, one way or another, to
tbe several nnattfen ' In trnth. scores were
crd"-l t the fUosj, tbrocjrb tbe ungoverna
ble rage of the Enneror, who had scarce ever
heard of Christianity, much less embraced it.
'First on the black, on my right; stand up?"
said the Emperor, in a shrill, squeaking voice,
as usual when strained, or desirous of making
a show of imperialjauthority.
An old man slowly rose to his feet, trem
bling under the infirmities of age, and quite
palsied in his limbs. He leaned forwa d on a
staff ; and, for a moment, closed his eyes ; then
quickly opening them, he looked, calm and
submissive, at the Emperor, his face assniing a
strange, unearthly whiteness. -
"I'm a poor old man ; and dont care much
about this worth less body any more. My
weary scul longs for its rest in another world;"
said lie, and before the Emperor had recover
ed from a violent fit of sneezing, a distemper
with which he was frequently molested. ;
"Are vou a Nazarene 1" at length, shouted
the Emperor, his sudden paroxysm having sub
sided. "
"I'm weary of this life, and want to ex
change it for a better;" siid the old man, with
a sigh.
- 'I ask ; are you a cursed Xazarene ?" again
shouted the Emperor, in a voice, if possible,
more shrill.
"That life wont end, like this ; this fruil old
body '11 be renovated into blooming youth J
and I'll wear a crown more bright and unfad
ing than that on your majesty's brow;" siid
the old man with great earnestness, while his
features suddenly brightened, and a tear or
two fell from his eyes.
The Emperor remained silent for a moment,
as if at a loss what to say, or how to proceed.
At length, however, leaning forward in his
seat, and fixing his gTey eyes fiercely on the
old man, he said :
. "Bow to the Gods before yon," pointing, at
the same time, at the row of images, with his
finger. - ;
"v;;"For many a sad and weary year of my life,
I worshiped them images of stone ; but the
only living and true God had mercy on me,
and gave me, a poor, unworthy sinner, the
light cf his knowledge. Him. alone I now
worship j and I shall not bow myself down;"
taid the old man, meekly, but with trembling
firmness.
"Ha ! ha ! the Dogs you v.'cnt ! Then to
the flames ! soldiers !yoiir duty ;" cried the j
Emperor, with the usual grin and display of j
yellow teeth. : -
Instantly, several huge monsters pounced
upou him, like so many demons; aud amid
the shouts ami jeers of the spectators, he was
hurried along the great, broad aisle,' and de
livered t j the executioners ut the door.
The old man made no resistance ; but, with
his stail firmly grasped in his hand, he hobbled
rapidly along, with his eyes raised to heaven,
and a smile upon his white, time-worn fea
tures. In a few moments, a loud shout was heard
in the square. The old man was in the flames.
Again all was still. His weary spirit.had ta
ken its flight, and entered upon the joys of
that life for which it panted earnestly longed.
Poor old man! well done! Thou didst
make a glorious exchange ! Who will doubt
it!
His life, in this world, had indeed been one
of suffering. Afflicted from his earliest child
hood with an incurable disease, he had been
lelt an orphan in his infancy. Supported
many years, lor the most part, by the charities
of a few friend?, these, at length, had either
died or abandoned him. But his afllictions
had given a serious, reflective cast to bis
mind ; and he had often thought, even of him
selfj that if this life and world were all of man,
then how miserable his lot !
At length, however, through a providence as
mysterious as it was merciful, he had been
thrown into a family of poor Christians, who
cared for him cared lor his soul. . He was
i
told of Jesus, the poor man's friend and Sa- j
viour told f another life and better world i
believed ; and this was the decrepit old man,
at whose trembling side stood the young, mod- j
est sou of IIcli,as both were baptized by Pry-..
thei's. . "
"First on the block, on my left stand up!"
said tbe Emp-eror.
A middle-aged female rose. Her head re
clined upon her shoulder. Her eyes were fix
ed with a mysterious gaze on the floor, as if
absorbed in some wondrous thought-
"You are charged with being a Jsazarene ;"
shouted tbe Emperor, as usual.
The poor woman made no reply ; but stood
as if chained in every member silent and mo
tionless as the images before her.
"Are you a Nazarene, or not ", again de
manded the emperor, angrily. . t .
The woman meekly raised her eyes, and
nodded an assent.
: "You confess ?"
-There was the same nod, with a perceptible
tremblicg of the frame, and a momentary pa
lor of countenace.
"Renounce the cursed faith bow cried
the Emperor, in a furious rage.
A quick shake of the head was the signfi
cant reply.
The woman then turned her eyes up toward
the great, lofty dome cf the Forum, and stood
as if gazing at some sudden, wondrous vision.
At Cr3t there was a sparkling lustre in her
j eyes, blended with surprise ; then a smile as
i of rrwc:uiticr., followe-i by tvidtct oniotios
of irrepressible joy. And then,' stretching
out both hsr hands as if expecting some one
to seize them from above, she exclaimed in
rapture, "I'm coining ! I'm coming!''
The Emperor, looking disdainfully at her a
a few moments, pronounced her a fool, and or
dered his soldiers to do their duty. . . :
"Quickly! let me hence! away to the
flames: to the skies! to my loved ones! to
my sweet family: home !" cried the woman,
looking imploringly at the Emperor.
Almost in an instant, she was in the hands
of the executioners at the doorl
There is a breathless silence in the hall.
Each one is listening as if anxious to citeh the
expected, meaning shout. There it is, wild,
horrid ; like the terrific yells from an assem
blage of fiends. ' '
neavtn, reader, had only answered a moth
er's prayer. Soon very soon, indeed, had
she been allowed to join her family in the
bright, distant ikies to nestle again on her
bosom, in the gushing joys of immortality,
that sweet, darling little babe.
, . And may we not follow her joyous, ransom
ed spirit, as, bursting from its writhing, con
suming tenement, it bounds away up through
the unineasureable voids, swifter far than
thought or the lightning speed ; on on! till
the light and glory, the songs and the hallclu
j ihs of another world burst upon it.
Then, the husband and little ones, on the
limitless shores,, have tuned their, harps of
gold, to greet tbe arrival; and, expecting,
gaze down into the vast, azure depths. "There
yonder see ; it's mother ! it's mother ! O.
she conies! she comes!" and the father looks
and smiles ; and they all touch their harps to
one of heaven's sweetest songs, gazing, all
the while, at the advancing spirit, with smil
ing, joyous looks. In a moment, their hnrps
are at their side, an i their arms are out-spread,
and they are in eaeli other's embrace; united
a family in heaven, through grace 1
"Stand up! you ."'siid the Emperor, point
ing to a young man about twenty years of age,
who all tbe while, had kept bis eyes intently
fixed upon the Emperor, keenly watching every
varying expression of his features, but seem
ingly unmoved either by his own impending
fate, or those around him.. - '
The young man instantly rose to , his feetf
with his eyes stiil rivetted. piercingly, upon
the same cruel and merciless monster before
him. , ..
. To be continued.
iisrrllanrouH.
General Taylor's Sesidence.
In Harper lor November, we notice an in
teresting article on "General Taylor's resi
dence at Baton Rouge," illustrated with a
truthful picture of the same. The sad reality
and truth of the writer's words, when he says,
"A few years more, and General Taylor's res
idence will have disappeared," must strike
the visitor as he ascends the beautiful avenue
leading out of town to the barrncks.
The modest littlo picket fence, with its un
assuuiiug gate, have gone to decay; and the
shrubs and flowers, so carefully protected in
the d ivs of the old man's glory, have become
rank and wild in the struggle, with briers and
brambles for existence. The vine, growing
over the balcony, so carefully looked after by
the gentle hand of the old hero's daughter, no
longer blooms to fill the air with fiagnance.
The flowers have drooped, the leaves with
ered, aid nothing but the ghostly frame of
'what was," now lingers. The house itself is
a sptctre. The last and only occupant since
Geu. Taylor left it forever, was Col. Webster
and family, who are also numbered with the
dead; and the "old rustic cottage," as it is,
has beeu turned over to the rats, and it reels
now to tumble to ashes under the gnawing
tooth of oblivion. What a lesson !. .
It was a very brief day ago, when the old
gentleman returned from the wars, "with all
his honors fresh "upon him." A former resi
dence in B.iton Rottge had .endeared him to
our people, and they claimed him as a citizen.
Hie news of his approach was hearhkd, and
the town went to the water's cige to welcome
him.
A torch-light procession, with music and
banners, followed him, and amid the cheers
and acclamations of the people he was escor
ted to the home of his choice, the cottage now
drooping its head, and only rescued from
oblivion by a wood cut. What an episode in
the history of the world's glory.
With what reluctance the old man left that
fairy spot, his own words betray, but there
was a destiny ruling him, and he was forced
away, to occupy a position altogether unsiii
ted to his temperament." Tbat destiny has
been sadlv worked out. The hero of Buena
Vista is dead, his amiable widow has followed
him, and his accomplished son-in-!aw, W. W
i Bliss, has fought his. last battle.
" The remains of Gen. Taylor should have
been deposited on this spot a place (as he
often expressed himself) uior?dear to tim
than any other on earth.
i
LT7""Is that the tune the old cow died of ?"
asked an Englishman, nettled at the industry
with which a New Englander whistled Yan
kee Doodie. "No, beef," repliei Jonathan,
"that's the tun th old Bnll diM of."
J -y-
"WHEN I AM DEAD."
In the dim crypts of the heart, where des
pair abidcth, these words seem written. A
strange- meaning a solemn intimation unfolds
itself at their utterance. For simple monosyl
ables how much gloom ye convey! How ye
speak in 'funeral tones of the extinguishment
of earthly hope of the spirit that has strug
gled in vain, and is painfully quiet now !.
:-. "When I am dead!" is uttered calmly but
what a calm such as the tornado leaves when,
silence broods over desolation. The voice
pronouncing that despairing phrase, has not
all its mournfulness from itself. The listen- j
ing ear hears something more ; for from those
words tbe groan of high aspirations quenched,
and hopes pale bleeding upon the sharp rocks
of adversity, come up, phautom-like, amid
the ghastly scenes of the buried past.
"When I am dead!" We have heard it oft
en, like the pealing bell that tolls the body of
the departed to its filial rest. The last word
"dead," lingers strangely, and echoes sadly
on the earj and through the portals of the
sympathizing soul. Dead dead dead and
the world grows gray, and the heart'stills, and
the eye moistens, to that mysterious sound.
But the echo fades amid encircling mist, and
toe spirit turns back confused with blinduess.
.. Even the echo of death cannot be penetra
ted. . The few feet of mould that composes
the grave, are wider than the globe, higher
than the stars. Not the mind's eye, nor the
anxious can glance the barrier the boundary
between Time aud.-Eternity.
"When I am dead!" . More or less signifies
resignation, or ' dependent wo, a fulfilment of
nature or a prevision of its ' end, may. these
words express, though sad they are at best.
When the aged man, whose steps have
grown feeble in the walks of goodness, and
whose hands tremble with the fruits of his oft
given charity, utters these words, they fall
from the lips as a prayer to heaven. In them
his will harmonizes with his destiuy ; and' the
tear that starts from a superior soul about to
leave its clay, glistens in the light of happi
ness that gleams out of the heart, at the pro
spective reward of the future.
.ThC lips, too, that never pressed the rim of
the fount of Nature's Posey, may murmur
'When I am dead!" but death to such an one
is better perhaps, than life. -His heart holds
no music, chiming in cadences to weal and wo
His iuward existence is void, and the. rough
surface of being checkered, though not bright
ened by the half stray thoughts, darkened but
little with the panoply of tho touib.
'How different,' when youth, glowing with
beauty of soul and heart, rich with the treas
ures of mind, and warm with sympathy for all
of love!iness,sighs, like the south wind 'When
I am dead!' A spiritleenis to wail its anthem,
and an eclipse of the noontide sun to f all upon
the picture of a high nature checked in its
purpose turned f rom duloit waves upon a cor
al reef, agaiust the rocks of a destructive shore.
"Wlien I am dead!" It is as mournful as
the plaint of a ghost on the tempest and mid
night wind. Bii't we must all say it sometime;
for the crave lies at hand, yawning through a
bed of thorns, or cleamius like a whicVsrven-"l
ue of hope feaning againt the stars. s
"Wheii afadead!" STbftfSe 'tryi fteBrful
import hath it to the utterer, but it is a weak
phrase only to others, the great world. Who
speaks it, may think the single going forth of
a soul will move none ail will be as before.
When he, aud you, and we, gentle reader,
are folded in our shrouds, friends dearest, and
those who loved us best, will dry their tearsere
thev had all begun .to flow. The heart that
beats with rapture against our own will freeze
above our memory inabrief time brciferthan
woman's trust or man's period of goodness.
But it is well thus; 'tis the world's custom
and nature's law. We weep uot for the dead
but when they die. We shall soon .be with
them; and it. may be good, we go early
to their narrow homes.
Uxuer the Rose. A floating paragraph
explains the origin of this expression : "The
term under the Hose, implies secrecy, and had
its origin during the year B. C. 418, at which
time Pausaniasy the commander of the con
federate fleet,' was engaged in an intrigue with
ierxes, for the marriage of Lis daughter and
the subjugation of Greece to the iledean rule,.
Their negotiations were carried ou in a build
ing attached to the Temple , of Minerva, call
ed the Brazen House, the roof" of which was a
garment forming a bower of roses; so that
the plot, which was conducted with the utmost
secrecy, was literally matured under the rose.
It was discovered, however, by.a slave, and as
the sanctity of the place forbade them to force
Pausanias to kill him there, they finally wall
ed him in, and left him to die of starvation.
It finally grew to be a custom among , the
Athenians to wear roses in their hair whenev
er they wished to communicate to another a
secret which they wish to be kept inviolate.
Hence the aying tub rosa among them, and
now among almost all Christian nations.
8"7"Mr. Smith, don't you. think Mr. Dusen
dorf is a young man of parts V ' ' .' '.y
'Decidedly so, Miss Brown he is part num
skull, part knave and part fool.
.. .:. . .' Charity, ..,:
"Charity covereth a multitude of sins,'
says the Gospel; is it not strange, therefore,
that so little should prevail in the community,
and that those especially who should claim it
as one of their peculiar attributes are either to
tally devoid of it, or totally mistaken in regard
to its character? We do not mean the charity
of the pocket, (though to tell the truth, there
is little' enough of that,) but the charity of
the heart, so beautifully expressed in the em
blem of a little child giving honey to a bee
without wings, that charity which .
"Disdains to weigh too nicely the re'urns
Her. bounty meets with like the liberal gods
From her own pracious nature he bestows,
Nor stoops to aik reward."
Behold that christian, an old and venerable
man fast wending his way toward the portals of
eternity, and list a moment to his conversa
tion. Perhaps he has just returned from the
house of God, perhaps f'rem His holy table,
where he has.con'tribiiteq liberally to send the
gosple to the far offpagau, a man who bears
among his fellows the reputation of a benevo
lent and exemplary christian, and distinguish
ed for his charity. The character of a young
man of his acquaintance is the subject of con
versation, and he is shaking to a stranger,
Yes,'j- is certainly a young man of tal
ent. but totally wanting in integrity, he
cannot be trusted." He knows this not from
his own experience, but from hea.s v;-, yet be
adopts it, gives it all the force of his own opin
ion founded on a reliable foundation, and the
stranger goes away satisfied of the depravity
of a young man of whom he was prepared to
recieve favorable impressions. Now had that
old man leen a true christian, imbued with
the spirit of true piety, had he iossessed
that charity which "covereth amultitude of
sins," he would have excused that young man's
faults, forgot his vices he would have heard
and obeyed '
" that deep voice, which from the skies " '
.-Forbade the patriarch's sacrifice, - '-."
God's angle cry. Forbear!" .. . :. i.
But il he heard that voice, he obeyed it not,
and the consequence was, that the young man
reciered an injury, that time, nor wealth, nor
pleasure, nor anything earthly can ever heal.
Nor is this a ficticious illustration.' The pic
ture imay' be presented from a difieren point
of view, or with a slight variation in perspec
tive, but it Is nevertheless correct, alas! too
true. Nor is it yet, a solitary7 example. ' We
see the same thing occurring around us daily
and hourly. 6td and young, grave and gay,
infidel and christian, all are guilty of the same
sin, without reflecting perhaps, on its bein
ousness, or the injury they do their fellow men.
They have not charity which '
"Pure in her aim. and in her temper mild.'
Her wi.-ulom seems the wenkness of a child;
She mflkes excuses when she might condemn.
Reviled by those thnt hate her pnys for them,
, Suspicion luiks not in her artless breast
The worst suggested, she believes tho best."
Answer to a Challenge. The eccentric
H. H, Brackenridge, one of the Judges of the
Supreme Court of Pennsylvania, when ayoung
man, was challenged to fight a duel by an Eng
lish officer, whom he answered as follows:
"I have two objections to this duel matter,
the one is lest I should hurt yon; the other is
lest you should hurt me. I don't sec any good
it would be to me, to put a ball through your
body. I could make no use of you when dead
for any culinary purpose, as I would a rabbit
or turkey. I am no canibl to feed upon the
flesh of men. Why, then, shoot down a human
creature, of whom I could make no use J A
buffalo would make bettor meat. For though
your flesh might be delicate and tender, yet it
wants the firmness and consistency which take
and retain salt. At any rate, it would hot do
for a long sea "voyage. You might make a good
barbecue, it; is true, being of the nature of a
raccoon or oppossum; people are not in the ha
bit f barbecuing anything that is human now.
And as to your hide, it is not worth taking off,
being little better than a two year old colt!
So much for you. As to myself, I do not like
to stand in the way of anything that is hurtful.
I am under the impression that you might hit
me. This being tbe cise. I think it most ad
visable to stay in the distance. If you mean
to try your pistol, take some object, a tree, or
a bam door about my dimensions. If you
hit that, send me word, and I will acknowl
edge that if I had been in the same place,
you might also have hit me." .
rr'As to the free-love doctorings,' said
Mrs. Partington, with a face as benevolent
as a thanksgiving dinner, I don't know much
about 'era, but it seems to roe they : needn't
cause much fear where any love exists at all.
Where hearts beat responsible to each other,;
and where they are mouldered together by
early love and plenty of children, depend on
it no free-love doctrings can do 'em any harm.'
The old lady stopped here, like a Chelsea fer
ry boat at the droy, and stirred her tea slowly,
looking vacantly at the picture of the corpo
ral, that model of military, political, and con-
jngal constancy, while Ike tested the cat's'
iternutatory powers by filling her nose with
pulverized bread crumbs. ' "
. nrAn eminent writer says: 'It is my opin
ion, derived from experience, that the- period
of courtship cmnot be loo short. .1 have rea
son to say that when you. have hooked your
fish, the sooner yon ns yonr Itadins net tbe
b-'t-or."
Tattling, Gonop and f lander.
'51aader meets no regard from nobU tBfnda; '
Only the base believe, what the bare only otter.
Bellek. .
It almost seems as thongh the serpent when
fleeing before the angry frowns of the Mighty
One, after having taught the mother of men
his subtile secret the damnation of a world,
had selected for his retreat the town or city,
for it is there he delights to dwell, and that he
is found, still insatiated, "seeking whom , ha
may devour." Towns are indeed Satan's hun
ting grounds the "pest-bouses of civiliza
tion," wher .
'On eagle's wings immortal scandals fly.
While virtuous action are but born to die."
It fs ahumiliating reflection, but one never
theless true, that there is a contagious, putrid,
disgusting Inst ' in every community for slan
derous reproaches, Iwckbiting, false flatteries",
and liceneious infamies, that can never be ful
ly satiated, but is always seeking material up
on which to feed. - It hesitates not to . enter
into the veryi secrets of the grave, and draw
aside the white shroud from the clay cold
corpse, that it may gloat over the agonized
sufferings of surviving relatives! It seizes in
its slimy, withering grasp, reputations, spotless
and pure, as the snowy robes that envelope tho
inhabitants of Heaven's high halls, and black
ens them with the bittcrgall like vomititgsof
malice! Virtue itself escapes not its enven
omed dart, shot, forth from the yawning gulf
of perdition through the instrumentality of
fiends in human form! And yet individuals
who rank, high in the world as men and womc-a
of talent, who rank high in the church as
devout followers of the spotless but much
slandered Jesus, can lend themselves to tho
encouragement of this degraded vice by pan
dering to the lothsome, filthy appetites of
gossips and tale-bearers, and drinking in their
malicious, black hearted, and foul mouthed
si ihders ! ' ' '
' Such persons should remember that, "it
requires two to make a calumny, one to tell
. it, the other to hear it told," and that tbe lat
ter is equally guilty with the former. . If then .
they would preserve their own . reputation,
and more , ; if they would . pre serve unsullied
their immortal souls, let them not give ear to
' 1 '-The whispered tale.
That, like the faltlcd Nile, no fountain knows
Kair-facd deceit, whose-wily concions eya
Ne'er looksdire.'t.-The tongue that li:ks the -dust,
Uut when it safely dares, is prompt to sting."
The Wives of "Wcrkinj Ken.
If you wish to behold woman in' all her glo- '
ry, go not to the mansion of opulence, where
she is surrounded by smooth-tongued flatter
ers, where she is decked like a puppet in
silks and jewels, but go to the humble home
of the mechanic or the laboring man, and see
her as a wife partaking the cares and cheer
ing the anxiety of a huaband, placing all her
confidence and all her happiness in the man
she loves. There you see her in the sphere
for which she was originally designed by tho
Creator, and which she is so well adapted to
bless and adorn. There yon behold her min
istering at the very fountain of life and hap
piness, the affectionate wife and mother, train
ing up her children to thought and virtue, pi
ety and benevolence, and preparing them to
discharge the important duties, and fulfil the
high destiny of citizens of the United State a,
with honor to themselves and all connected"
with them by ties of association or kindred. )
The domestic circle, where the presence of;
woman is the centre and the sun by which it
is irradiated, is the nearest glimpse of heaven
that mortals can get in this life. It is there tbat
" arigels find a resting place
When, bearing blessings, they descend to earth."
No Good Deed Loit.
Philosophers tell us that, since the creation
of the world not one single particle has ever
been lost. It may have passed into new shapes
it may have floated away in smoke or vapor1
but it is not lost. It will come back again
in the dewdrop or the rain it will spring up
in the fibre of the plant, or paint itself on the
rose leaf. Through, all its formations, Provi-
dence watches over and directs it still. Even
so it is written of every holy thought or heav
enly desire, or humble aspiration, or generous
and self-denying effort. It may escape our.
observation we may be unable to follow it,
but it is an element of the moral world, and it
U not lost.'
CfSheridan is reported to have once fallen
into a coal celler on his way home, after a
good supper at Drury Lane; and his abuse of a .
vender for . not keeping a light at the door,
was warmlv rrtorted bv the wife. "Ilanjr it.'
; . i s-h-ja-,, ui1Q was not much hurt, "do
thjnk j t to pocket your coal?"
j tx0 , storied the woman, "but your nos
might set the coals on fire."
DT7 "Vonce, ven I was courtim my Cater
ine, was gone to my fielt to hoe mine later. '
Veil den I see my Caterine courtin in derroad, :
so I dinks I give her a boo; so I climbs a tree,j
and shust as I vas goin to boo her, I falls off
on der hemlock fence aid s:i a pina knot
in mine pantaloons, an Caterino vas laff and
make more shame dan a sheep xnit ona tana
tief on his back.' ' '" :
? AT Yankee,' describing an opponent,,
Bays: I tell you what, sir, that' man don't
amount to a sum in arithmetic i Awn .
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