M S: J$. liOW.
CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 18-50.
VOL. 2.-M). 27.
ii
fi
:trip ligiitly over trouble.
Trip lightly 'over trouble ' ' " . -
Trip lightly over wrong;- : .
'-' ' "We only make grief double . ,,
' '- By dwelling on it long, ' ' ' '
t a tt ny ciasp woe s nana so iigoiiy :
, AVhy sigh o'er blossoms dead?
; "Why cling to forms unsightly ?
Why not seek joy instead?.' i:
c Trip lightly over sorrow;
Though this day may be dark, '
;The sun may shine to-morrow, '
And gaily sing, the lark;
Fair hope3 have not departed.
! ' Though roses may have fled; '
Then never be down hearted,
But look for joy instead.
: Trip lightly over sadness, . '!
Stand not to rail at doom;
" "We've pearls to string of gladness,
? On this side of the tomb;
"Whilst stars are nightly shining, ,
And Heaven is overhead,
Encourage not repining,
'list look for joy instead.
- From the Scalpel.
SKETCHES OF VILLAGE PRACTICE
,, " . ''It is not all of life to live,
: Nor all of death to die."
1 Sabbath in the country ! The serene, peace
Jul Sabbath ; the time of rest, God-given to
nyn, for purification and prayer J In the city
the day never seems so truly good; so infinite
ly holy as in the country. The sweet sound of
distant Tillage bells; the sight of cattle releas
ed from labor, browsing in contented herds in
the quiet of green fields; the very chirp of the
countless insects, and the innocent song of
the myriads of birds, all breathe of a Sabbath
morality, which in the great cities is lost en
tirely. The noise of active lifo ceases; naught
meets the car but the lingering echoes of those
calm church-bells, as they float on the unadul
terated, healthful air, to the distant farm
houses. 'God made the country, man the town."
It is not unnatural to suppose that a greater
blessing rests with the Divine work, than with
that of mere, however glorious, art.
J - I had bcea a resident of M some three
or four weeks, but had been detained from at
tending church each Sabbath by violent storms;
and, to confess the truth, I did not regret this
as much as I should, from the fact that I dread
ed my first meeting, as their sole and newlv-
established
aristocratic inhabitants of that " pretentious
village. I shrank nervously from the unavoid
able introductions, and the criticism which I
knew must as inevitably follow. However,
one morning I was bereft of my excuse ot bad
weather, and awakened betimes to find the
day most obstinately clear. There was' not a
cloud in the heavens that I could reasonably
persuade myself was the signal of coming
rain ; therefore to church we went, my wile
and I she all a-glow, with expectation, and
looking, as I thought, unusually charming in
her pink ribbons, and I (I acknowledge it can
didly) somewhat oppressed with an indefina
ble sense of doubt and dismay.
.It was a small, fantastically designed build
ing, of ah antique style of architecture, that
would have puzzled the wisest to determine ;
yet it was striking, artistic, and displayed de
cided and refreshing originality. Ivy and oth
er vines crept in thick masses over the rough-ly-hewr
stone walls, and darkened, with their
close embrace, the low, arched windows. In
ternally everything was plain and simple, as
all houses of true worship are, yet there was
not wanting a certain air of quiet elegance.
The pulpit was strongly indicative of classical
simplicity in its own form, and had few adorn
ments; opposite it,at the other extremity of the
church, was a small, veiled gallery, containin
an organ and accommodations for a choir of
Bingers.
7e were early. I seated myself quietly,
and having nothing to occupy my thoughts,
half unconsciously I watched the. entrance,
one by one, of the villagers. Among them I
6aw a face, which, as I beheld it then, has
haunted me for years. It was that of a man
in the prinio of his life, handsome, well bred,
and intelligent, hut so inexpressibly sad, so
indicative of evident stagnation and despair
ing dissatisfaction, that I turned away in hor
ror that anything made by God should dare to
carry a countenance like that.
The services began with slow, sonorous
notes ot prelude from the mellow-toned organ
Throughout the aisles of the little, antique
church, up to tho very rafters, floated that
rare sobbing music, penetrating all hearts,
sensitive either to good or evil, with that del
icate sorrow which Longfellow sa53
is not akin to pain."; J
Tt faded as the burden changed from sadness
.to jubilant hope, and ended in sudden staccato
chords of triumphant joy. All eyes were then
jtcmed towards the pulpit, and all heads rever
ently bowed, as the minister, an aged man,
arose and uttered a brief and impressive pray-
er. It was one of the most solemn thinjrs to
which I ever listened. Its beauty lay in its
naturalness, undefiled, as it was, by the arts
of showy rhetoric. It seemed to pass from the
venerable clergyman's lips up to heaven, as
the sincerest language in which man could ad
dress and adore his Creator. By contrast, the
cold brilliancy of the sermon that followed,
lost all effect ; it could not touch me like that
simple, honest supplication for Divine mercy.
All the after services of the day were nothing
to me ; I had poured out my whole soul with
that prayer, and had no further powei or de
sire" to worship. I was. satisfied.
: I discerned no lack of eloquence or minis
ferial learning in that aged divine's exhorta
tion, and although, as we left the church,
heard many - speak of it with expressions of
lively pleasure, I felt assured that he himself
was discontented with the discourse. It was
like thin, fitful sunlight, veiling a lowering
December sky; or, like snow, blinding tho
eyes with glitter, yet in its actual self, very
cold and unsubstantial. I perceived that there
was that beneath all this sparkle of words
which few present understood. Was it private
grief? "Was it some hidden agony warring
against unnatural restraint? I recognized
the evidences of insincerity, but whether tem
porary or habitual, I could not discover.
When he ceased, I felt merely the silence;
there was none of that strange sensation at the
cessation of impassioned, nobly earnest deliv
ery which I had experienced often before.
'Certainly," thought I, "that man is either
very heartless or very miserable."
Tha congregation was pouring itself quietly
out, when in the usual organ voluntary, came
an abrupt but slight pause, followed by deep
stillness. Immediately a human voice, a full
and rare man's voice, commenced chanti
that celebrated solo from Felix Mendelsskon
Bartholdy's "Messiah," "I know that my re
dcemer liveth." Perfectly in time and tune,
although with no further accompaniment than
tho few opening chords, the voice issued from
the choir, bearing to world-weary listeners
consolation and peace. It was not tho noble
words, nor yet the nobler music, it was the ex
pression gathered by that fine voice from the
two, uniting in one glorious whole, till the
very atmosphere seemed to thrill with its
wealth of melody. On the last notes of the
solo, as it faded magnificently into silence,the
organ's accompaniment ' recommenced, prov
ing by the purest unity ol the two sounds the
successful intonation of the unknown vocalist.
Many curious eyes were directed towards the
gallery, but the curtains weie tightly drawn,
and the mystery still remained mysterious.-
Some casual movement, however, momentari
ly displaced a portion of the floating screen,
and revealed" to me a glimpse of the dark,
handsome face I had before noticed; and it was
fvSeSIerdrte" h.or f iffe'lrsl'lft
wonder, if that soulful singing and that mo
rose, unhappy countenance belonged to one
and the same individual.
The close of this Sabbath day was destined
to reveal to me a strange fragment of the life-
history of this very man.
The night foil, dewy and starry, but with an
oppressiveness of atmosphere that was not,
in that part of the country, an uncommon con
sequence on long continued rains. The
ground was almost destitute of moisture, and
the grass of that harsh, vivid green, so de
structive to vision. The air was heavy and
breathless, the very stars seemed to blink with
the universal drowsiness. "We were just seat
ed at our plainly furnished tea-table, when
there camo a startling peal from the little pri
mitive knocker on the hall door.
"A visitor," said my wife, settling her cap.
"A patient," said I, rushing from the room,
just in time to upset a black boy who ran vio
lently against me. Alternately rubbing his
bruised sides, and grinning from ear to ear at
the adventure, he informed me that "massa
was took sick in a great hurry," and then
scampered off, having first pointed out a large
and conspicuous house, quite near to my own,
as the residence ol the sick man. I had often
before noticed it for tha elaborate arrange
ment of its extensive gardens.
In a few moments I was in the chamber of
the first pa'ient to whom 1 had been called du
ring my residence in M . The room was
large and brilliantly lighted; bouquets of deli
cate flowers were scattered over it evidenllj-,
illness had been totally unlooked for by the
master of the dwelling. As I entered, the
face ol my patient was hidden from me by the
pillows in which it was buried, lho wile, a
young, slight thing, half sat, half reclined be
side him, her head bowed on her bosom, her
pale hands tightly locked one in the other.
She raised her eyes as I entered, and on see
ing me, a sudden gleam of something which,
if it were not hope, had all its beauty, passed
over her features.
"Doctor!" she cried wildly, advancing to
meet me, "Doctor, save him save him!"
Before I had time to answer, a voice from
the other side of the bed uttered in a low, so
norous, but self-possessed tone :
"It is too late !" .
Glancing quickly that way, I saw the gray
haired minister. On his hands were great red
spots of blood ; the pillows, the sheets wero
marked with it; and on the white dress of the
young wife glittered also fresh crimson stains
"He is dying," said the old man, reverently
kneeling at the bedside ; "human aid is of lit
tie consequence now.- Again I say, it is too
late. Abner, my boy, do you hear me you
are dying !" ,
I approached the bed, and as I did so, tha
sick man raised his head, and I saw before me
the beautiful, despairiug facejof tho morning
The dark eyes were fiercer and brighter, and
deeply sunken in their sockets, while the hea
vy masses of hair and beard gave the ghastly
complexion a still more unearthly hue. He
had ruptured a . bloodvessel.- - At a glance I
saw that the case was hopeless, and that the
little I could do, were almost as well undone
Life was fast ebbing away mortality verging
into immortality. I caused his face to be
bathed, and the clotted blood washed from his
nostrils and beard that was all.
Meanwhile the old man sat there on the
bed's edge, clasping one of thoso colorless
hands in his own. He kissed the almost life
less forehead, he bent over that dying man
with the anxiety which none but a father
could feel at such a moment.
"Abner, Abner," he whispered, "do you
can you hear me ? ' If you can, for God's
sake give me some signal ?"
The eyes, gradually assuming a dull,dreamy
look, closed wearily, and opened again very
slowly. A low wail burst from the wife. The
old clergyman turned upon her quickly, and
said, with bitter imperiousness :
"Be still, I must speak avith him!" Then
bending again over the bed :
"Abner, have you thought of Death ! Shall
we pray have you made peace with God ?"
There appeared to be a sort of convulsive
effort on the sick man's part to attain a sitting
posture. For a moment ho seemed possessed
of perlect consciousness and perfect strength
"God!" he echoed hoarsly; "father, how
dare you name Him ! God! You, who made
me what I am ; you, who goaded me to sim,
and allfor money, money ! Was it so precious
to 3-011 that I must sell myself, body and soul,
marry lor it Don't speait to me ot God !
There is none no God no God !"
lie sank back on his pillows exhausted.
Blood burst anew from his mouth, .lie tried
to say more, but the words wero drowned In
the warm tide that bubbled over his chest.
And she, tho wife, stood there in marble calm
ness and heard that which was to blast the rest
of her young life. Her hands wero clasped
jain, her eyes fixed unflinchingly on the
oor. She neither moved nor spoke. Look
ing at her, you would have felt your very
heart melt with compassion, so wild, so for
lornly miserable was tho expression ot that
sweet, girlish face.
" Abner, Abner, my son," was all the father
spoke With his blanched quivering lips.
The momentary "flush faded froni thesick
fnS'TolTohThTs mouth, and I knew that in
a few moments all would be over.' There was
no struggle, but there was that gathering shad
dow on his forehead which is so terribly un-
lerstandable. Seeing thio, the intense de
spair on his wife's face grew a trifle morestat-
sque, and her hand3 locked themselves in
voluntarily tighter, till blood gushed from the
smooth palm that came in contact with the
finger-nails. Not a word was spoken, not a
sound broke the deep stillness of the chamber,
but the indistinct and oppressive breathing of
the dying man. I thought it grew fainter and
slower, and I bent down to place ray finger on
tho wrist, and to listen more intently ; but the
old man waved me fiercely, jealously away.
"Touch him not," he said, "for ho is deadl"
And I thought, indeed, that it was so ; for
even as he spoke, the faint respiration sudden
ly ceased, and the pallor of an everlasting un
consciousness crept slowly over the still features-
But in another moment, I saw that life
was not yet extinct. The eyes again partly
unclosed in the same powerless, dreamy way
as before, and an indcscribable.radiance for an
instant lit up tho pale, handsome face hand
some even then, but with an unearthly beauty.
"God!" the colorless lips muttered, "God
there is a God!" and a smile, whose titter
serenity I have never seen equalled, flickered
around the mouth. Then the shadow deepen
ed, fell, and ho expired . It seemed as though
tho soul had been half freed, and, returning,
gave evidence of that eternity which it but
partially had entered ! -
A woman's voice, sobbing, at last broke the
dreary silence. The old man rose, and ap
proaching his dead son's wife, said feebly : v
"Esther, be comforted; God is over all V '
She drew her hand lrom his clasp wiih a ges
ture of unequivocal abhorrence. , v
"Comfort !" she echoed, with a great defiant
flash of her black eyes ; "comfort! you preach
to me of comfort! Hypocrite '."she hissed
the word from between her closed breath, w ith
startling, . indignant energy. "It is all clear
to me now. "Who was it plotted and schemed
to bring us together ? "Who tempted him into
marriage whero there was no love on his side
none, none, O my God but for money?
Answer me'that!"
Her dark hair had become disentangled of
fastening, and now fell, in wild, confused
grace, over her bare shoulders, ner white,
upraised arms glittered in the bright light of
the lamps, tho scarlet ornaments floating from
the sleeves, falling over them in vivid con
trast. Never shall I forget the impression
created by. that indignant appeal, and the tra
gic, excited beauty of this injured woman.
All this was many years ago, yet I never recall
that Sabbath night without a shudder. Fre
quent as are terrible or touching scenes in the
life ol a physician, I remember nono that own
power so to unman me as the memory of this.
And the sequel was no less sad. Within a
year another grave was made for the poor, de
ceived wife. On tho death of her husband,
she sank into a stupor from which nothing
could arouse her, and which terminated at last
in rapid consumption. It is strange that I
should recollect the day she died. It is as
new in my mind as yesterday. White, freshly
fallen snow lay on the ground. It had come
early that year, and many leaves were still
hanging enmsoraed on their boushs. Tho
trees were loaded with light fleecy fragments
of snow, among which these brilliantly-dyed
leaves gleamed out in the sunshine like blood
on a woman's fair face.
LIFE IN A NUNNERY.
FEOST MISS BCNKLSV'S NEW BOOK.
It will be readily imagined that the unnatu
ral state of things prevailing under the conven
tual system is calculated rather to promote
than prevent tho rising of those petty jealous
ies and dislikes which must be incidental to
such an association. "Without the strong tics
of kindred or friendship to bind them one to
another, it is not likely that tho poor prisoners
of a convent will spend in perfect harmony the
tedious hours and j-ears of their compulsory
seclusion. A single incident may let the read-
der into the realities of that relationship which
Rome pretends to constitute among the un
happy inmates of a nunnery, and which she
deiignates by the deceptive name of "sister
hood."
Having been sent one evening to work in
the boarder's refectory instead of that of the
sisterhood, while standing near ono of the ta
bles at which the boarders wero seated, I took
up a "basket and carried it to the scullery for
some bread- Scarcely had I entered the room
and handed the basket to the sister who had
charge ot the department, when I felt myself
seized by the arm, and, looking round, saw the
angry countenance of the sister who presided
at the boarders' tabic. She asked me, in a
passionato tone, by whose authority I had ta
ken the basket for bread, and whether I had
been appointed waiter by the Superior. I an
swered no, and that I would not have taken the
basket had she not ordered me, the night be
fore, to do so when she had said that bread
was wantod upon the table.
The sister told me that I had no authority of
the kind, and that she would report me to the
Superior, and have mo brought before "tho
council." I replied that I was not conscious
tJne. I dreaded the "sacred council," and
went at once to the' novitiate, and told the
mistress of novices what had just occurred.
She answered me that I had "many a cross to
bear."
That evening, while on the way to my cell,
I noticed in one of the cloisters a sister lean
ing against the wall. She beckoned me to
her, and then made a motion for me to follow
her. I soon found it was the sister who had
11-treated mc in the refectory. I became a-
larmcd, as she was leading me to a balcony be
yond tho cells. I w hispered that I must go to
my call that I would be missed. By this
time we had reached the balcony. She insist
ed that I should wait, closing, at the same
time, the door after us. Just then, hearing a
noise near by, as if some one was crossing the
porch to the infirmary, we walked on a few
steps to escape observation. The sister then
fell on her knees, asking my forgiveness for
having abused me, and begging mo not to
speak of what had occurred should I have an
interview with Superior priest. I would here
state that, in those interviews, a sister is ques
tioned as to any difficulties she may have had
with others in the community. I promised
secresy, and went to my cell.
Wearied and exhausted with my duties in
the academy, bes:des my evening work, an ir
resistible oppression of soul weighing down
my powers of mind and body, I tried in vain
to sleep. 'I thought of my ill health, caused
by the laborious exercises I had to perform,
and the sufferings and sorrows I had under
gone since my reception in the community.
Hooked out upon tho future: it appeared to
stretch before mc, even into eternity, a drear
path ou which no beam of sunshine would fall
to cheer, and in which no voice of kindred
love would breathe its music of consolation to
my heart. I sighed for my home. In deso
lation of spirit, I mourned for its remembered
love. But the fearful consciousness came to
me that I was severed eternally from all that
made life dear. "At length I rose, dressed,
and groped my way along the cloister lead
ing to the choir, and from thence down the
narrow flight of stairs into the chapel. It was
dark, save for the few rays that streamed from
the solitary light which burned dimly in the
sanctuary. Kneeling before the alter, I fas
tened my eyes, upon the crucifix ahove it.
Long and earnestly I gazed, but the feelings
that filled my soul were too deep to find re
pose in the contemplation of any material ob
ject. I bowed my bead upon the railing, and
wept. Ere long, the image of nisi who had
suffered aroso to my view.; the pure and holy
Savior of the' world, whose mild, benignant
eyes, in their pitying tenderness, penetrated
to tho depths of my wretched heart, and shed
a blessed hope upon its gloom. I prayed
prayed earnestly, and from the heart ; my de
sires flowed from its inmost depths. "With
streaming eyes and unutterable groans, 1 ask
ed Him, the Savior of the world, to deliver
me from this prison, this den of .cruelty and
hypocrisy. I believe it to be the only time I
prayed from my heart while in the institution
With this outburst of emotion, this pouring
forth of my grief to God in spirit and in truth,
I found relief, and became composed and calm
I know not how long I had been kneclin
when I was startled by deep drawn sighs and
sobs, proceeding from the direction of the
'seven sorrows' altar, which is at one side of
the chapel door, under tho choir. Fearing ob
servation, I arose, and hastening down one
side of tho chapel, reached the stairs leading
to the choir. As I entered the choir, I saw a
dark figure glide past me, and go into a small
passage behind the organ. Probably this per
son was in search of tho poor heart-broken
creature whom I had left weeping so bitterly
at the foot of the 'seven sorrows' altar For
tunately 1 escaped notice, and, softly closing
the door behind me, reached my cell just be
fore the bell rang for morning prayers in the
chapel.
A Discovert is Perc. The Hon. Thomas
jw Dans, in a leuer to mo national intelligen
cer, communicates some interesting informa
tion in relation to recent discoveries in the ex
cavation of Peruvian tummuli. It was re
ceived by Mr. Ewbank from W.Evans, Esq.,
engineer of the Africa and Tackna railroad, in
Peru. Mr. Evans states that in making exca
vations for the railroad at Africa, hundreds of
graves are demolished, in which are numerous
Indian relics. Tho excavations are seventy
feet deep, and as the soil is loose sand, and as
the work proceeds, everything from the top
comes sliding down dead Indians, pots, ket
tles, arrow heads, &c. Among other interest
ing mortuary relics, an Indian was stirred out
of his resting place, rolled up in a shroud of
gold. Before Mr. Evans had knowledge of the
incident, the workmen had cut up this magni
ficent winding sheet, and divided it among
themselves. With some difficulty, Mr. Evans
obtained a fragment, and dispatched it to Mr.
Ewbank. Mr. Evans notices as a very remark
able fact, that in hundreds of Indian .skulls
which he had examined, not one has contained
a decayed tooth. Mr. Ewbanks thinks the
weight of the entire shroud must have been
eight or nine pounds, and had it been pre
served would have been the finest specimen of
sheet gold that we have heard of since the
time of the .Spanish, coaauest- In . r.ni
cnirs of the departed, and the fulifily ol at
tempting to secure the great dead from con
tact with their native earth, Mr. Ewbanks says
it is the foim or features and not the body or
substance of the dead that should be preserv
ed, and adds : .
"The mummies of Egypt are quarried for
fuel, and whether those of the Pharaohs, their
wive3, their priests or their slaves, are split
open and chopped up with the same indiffer
ence as so many pine logs. The guns and
balsams used in embalming them have made
them a good substitute for bituminous coal;
and thus the very means employed to preserve
thm have become the activo agents for their
dissipation. So it is when materials of coflins
have a high marked value, they are then seiz
ed as concealed treasure, and their contents
cast out as rubbish. Like heroes in the East
ern hemisphere, tho descendants of Nauco
Capoe were sometimes, if not always, entomb
ed in such, and with considerable treasures
besides in vessels of gold and silver: hence we
learn how the Spanish conquerors sought,
often found, and as often plundered rich In
can sepulchres."
AToccnisa Scene. A correspondent of the
Elmira Republican says that in a recent trip
over the New York and Erie Railroad, an in
cident occurred that touched every beholder's
heart with pity. A comparatively young lady,
dressed in deep mourning her husband hav
ing recently died was travelling southward,
having in her care and keeping a young daugh
ter of some six years. The little girl was
mild-eyed as an autumnal sky, and as delicate
aa the hyacinth her emaciated fingers trans
parent as the pearls of Ceylon. Touchingly
beautiful was the affection of her heart for the
mother, whose solicitude for the daughter's
comfort was unceasingly manifested. Lock
ing ever and anon from the car window, she
turned to her mother, saying : "Mother, I am
wearywhen shall we get home ?" After a
time she fell into a slumber, then awakening
suddenly a radiant smile overspreading her
features she exclaimed, pointing upward:
"Mother there is papa hoino at last V and
expired. It was yet many weary miles to the
mother's home, but the angels pitying the lit
tle sufferer, gathered her to the paradiso of In
nocence. -
Harry Erskine, of facetious memory, was
retained for a female named Tickle, against
whom an action had been brought. On the
trial he commenced his address to the court
"Tickle, my client,the defendent,my lord."
The audience amused with the oddity of the
speech, were driven into hysterics by the
Judge replying :
'Tickle, her yourself, Harry, you are as well
able to do it as I.'
Ox the Outside. A man with an enormous
ly largo sucker, called on a dentist to have a
tooth diawn. After tho dentist had prepar
ed his instrument and was about to commence
operations, the man began to strain and strech
his mouth till it got to a frightful width. Say
sir," said the dentist,"don't trouble yourself
to strech yow mouth any wider, I intend 10
stand on the outside of it to draw your tooth."
WINTER IN ST. PETERSBURG.
To defend one's self from tho weather tho
most constant and minute precautions are re
quired. In October tho Russians, and all who
have been in the country, assume fur clothes,
and keep them in continual wear until the
month of April, after the ice has broken up on
the Neva. Stoves -are lit everywhere, and
each family lays in a stock of birchwood, tha
braise of which is moro abundant than any
other wood. There is a servant especially-
appointed to attend to the stoves, and his dnty
is to keep up, as much as possible, an equal
heat throughout the honae. The best stove
keepers, whose fame procuros them a high
salary, are generally from Moscow.' Twenty
degrees of cold do not appear astonishing to
an inhabitant of St. Petersburg, though he
then casts a curious look at tho thermometer.
At 3 or 21 degrees, constant rounds arc
made during the night to prevent the police
and sentinels from falling asleep on their
posts. Should the cold bring on drowsiness,
and the sufferer not bo able to prevent him
self from yielding to its influence, he must
perish, as he can only wake from his sleep in
tho other world. At 25 degrees, the theatres
are closed, and all those who are obliged to
go out on foot, hurry along with their utmost
speed, most anxiously looking at the noses of
all those whom they meet in the street. If a
sudden paleness of which no intimation is
given by any physieal feeling should appear
on that part of the face the passer-by rushes
forward, and commences rubbing the afflicted
feature of the alarmed passenger, with snow,
to produce animation. The same thing mar
occur to tho operator himself before the hour
is over. At 30 degrees of cold, the poor pop
ulace alone go out doors; entire families shut
themselves up; and not a single sledge of any
appearnnce or fashion is seen In the streets.
Yet even then the military reviews aro net in
terrupted, and tho highest dignitaries, up to
tho Empcrcr himself, repair to them without
a cloak. It must be evident that, with cold
of such intensity, the sufferings of the poor
must be dreadful; yet it may be affirmed with
out exaggeration, that the lower classes, . in.
large town of the caapire public establish
ments, heated by large stoves, where every
person that pleases may take refuge. Tram
n Russia.
Singular Physiological Fact. The trans
ference of vitality which appears to take place
when young persons are habitually placed in
contact with the aged, is cot a nursery fiction.
It is well attested by very competent authori-
ies. "A not uncommon cause,"obscrvcs Dr.
Copcland, "of depressed vital power, is the
young sleeping with the aged. This fact,
however explained, has been long remarked,
and it is well known to every unprejudiced ob
server. I have, on several occasions, met with
the counterpart of the following case : I was, a
few years ago, consulted about a 6ickly and
thin boy, of about four or five years of age.
He appeared to have no specific ailment, but
there was a slow and remarkable decline of
flesh and strength, and of the energy of. the
functions; what his mother very aptly termed
a gradual blight. After inquiry into the his
tory of tho case, it came out that he had been
a very robust and plethoric child, up to hit
third year, when his grandmother, a very aged
person, took him to sleep with her; that he
soon afterwards lost his good looks, and that
hecontinued to decline progressively ever since
notwithstanding medical treatment. I direc
ted him to sleep apart from the aged parent,
and prescribed gentle tonics, change of air,
&c. The recovery was rapid. . But it is not in
children only that debility is induced by this
mode of abstracting vital power. Young fe
males married to very old men, suffer la a sim
ilar manner, although seldom to so great an
extent; and instances have come to my know
ledge where they haTe suspected the cause of
this debilitated state. These facts are often
well known to the aged themselves, who con
sider the indulgence favorable to longevity,
and thereby illustrate the selfishness which,
ia some persons, . increases with their years.
Every medical practitioner is well aware cf the
fact, and parents are generally advised not to
allow their infants to sleep with aged persona.
John Randolph was one of the most sarcas
tic men that ever lived. One time a young
man attempted to make his acquaintance." He
obtained an introduction and among the first
remarks faid: "I passed by your house lately
Mr. Randolph." "I hope you always will!"
waathcreply.
Another once twitted him as to his want of
education. "The gentleman reminds me,"
sail Randolph in reply, "ofthe lands about
the head waters of tho Montgomery, which
are poor by naturo and cultivation ha entire
ly ruined them!"
The Size of Lokdoh. London is now the
greatest city in the world, and far surpasses
all the great cities of antiquity. . According
to Gibbon tho population of ancient Rome, in
the height of its magnificence, was 1,200,000;
Nineveh is estimated to have had 600)00; and
Dr. Medhurst supposes Pekin to - have 2,000,
000. The population of London, according to
recent statistics, amounts to 2,600,000 414,-.
722 having been added to it during the last te.
years. The census shows that it contains 307
722 Inhabited, and 19, 389 uninhabited fcwse.
0