U V
BY S. B. ROW.
CLEARFIELD, PA., "WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1859.
VOL. 5.-AT0. 51.
LEI'S BE CONTENT.
Why maraur at your lot in life ?
Look upward bo man !
A way with discontent and strife,
And do the best yoa can.
What tho' you hare no broad green lands,
o coffers filled with gold ?
Health and strength, and honest hands,
Will yield you wealth untold.
Far better share the joys that fill
The honest workman's breast,
The sleep that o'er his senses steal,
When nature claims her rest.
Tho' cares are on life's pathway set,
And sorrow spread around,
Kemember that, where rank weeds grow,
A flower oft is found.
Who, then, would live in idleness,
When labor 's health and pleasure ?
Let' be content, and heaven will bless
Our works with loving measure.
copyright secured.
CLEARFIELD COUNTY:
OH. REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST.
And who was G. Philip Guelich, and why
should his name be kept in remembrance by
our people 1 Had the record named him
"Father Guelich," such a question would
hardly have been asked. Are you not familiar
with the lace of that grey-haired veteran who
regularly every Monday night of Court sits as
President of the total abstinence aocietjyand
has done so for so long a series of years that,
had his right been disputed, be conld, even
years ago, have pleaded the statute of limita
tions 7 Yoa have seen him oft, during a pe
riod exceeding tho average duration of life,
w ending his way, whenever the Sabbath dawn
ed on us, to assume bis duties as Superinten
dent of the Sabbath school, and impart to
children, less innocent and artless than him
self, the genial and humanizing lessons of the
Bible. Some style him a Lutheran his walk
and conversation stamp him a Christian.
George Philip Guelich was born in the city
of Hamburg in 1788. Ilis parents were in
good circumstances, which enabled : them to
confer on him a fair education. lie engaged
in the business of reGning sugar in his native
city. Hamburg contained over three hundred
sugar refineries, but duriDg the time of the
Napoleonic wars this, as well as many other
branches of business, was rendered precarious
or almost totally destroyed. So much was
Mr.Guelich's business interfered with, that,
in 1808, be resolved to go to London and fol
low his trade there. The whole of the Ger
man coast was under blockade by the French
ami ranch of the territory overrun by soldiers
of that nation. To reach England under
such circumstances was difficult and perilous.
There was no regular communication between
Great Britain and the Germanic States, but a
contraband trade was kept up, facilities being
enjoyed from the fact that England was pos
sessed of Heligoland, a small island in the
North Sea, about 45 miles from the coast,
which she bad acquired from Denmark. The
island contains but a small quantity of tillable
land on a plateau near its centre, which is
reached by a flight of one hundred and ninety
steps. Its position alone gave it importance.
It once contained several parishes and a large
population, but was at this timo inhabited by
a few fishers and pilots. Having provided
himself with some money and a letter to one
of tho pilots at Cuxhaven, on the coast, Gue
lich packed his trunk and started for that
place. Finding that it would be difficult to
embark here, and not wishing to leave the
country with only such clothes as be bad on
his back, as advised by the pilot, he listened
to the suggestions of a Jew, and accompanied
him to Bremerlay, a small village on the We
res, near tho coast. Hero be remained five
days awaiting a chance to depart for Heligo
land, during which time several vessels from
that port were captured by the French. Hav
ing sent back bis trunk and retaining only
such clothing as he could conveniently carry,
favored by the darkness of the night, he waded
out to a shallop which ' awaited the favorable
moment for setting sail, When out of tho
Weser, a shot from a British frigate made the
shallop lay by until it was boarded and a sig
nal afterwards given by tho frigate for it to
proceed. At Heligoland he tcok passage in a
packet which was detained in port, by contra
ry winds, for eighteen days. The excess of
population on the island had raised boarding
to almost fabulous prices, fully twenty times
the cost in Germany, and the delay exhausted
moat of his means. A difficulty about his
passport delayed him several days in II art
wick. This overcome, he left for London,- and
reached it oppressed with the thought that in
that vast concourse of human beings he knew
not one. He obtained work and remained in a
sugar house 9 months. Accidentally meeting
"itb a brother, who bad been in America but
was then seeking employment in a neighboring
refinery, bis spirits were raised, and a step re
solved on which changed the current of his
life. They determined to depart for the Uni
ted States. His brother went first to visit his
friends, and experienced much difficulty in
entering and leaving the fatherland. In Jan
nary 1811, he and his brother set sail for New
York. The weather was boisterous, the winds
contrary, and the vessel in which they bad em
barked proved unseaworthy. After being out
font weeks, when of! the banks of Newfound- j
land, the captain gave np all hopes of the safe- i
y of the vessel and crew. It was feared that
lh vessel could not be turned. However it
was tnriod to put back to Ireland, If pos
sible. They turned on a day made memora
ble by 26 vessels perishing on the Irish coast.
The storm which they bad experienced had
carried off their' boats, and torn their sails to
shreds. By dint of constant labor at the
Dumps day and nizht. bv casseneers and crew.
J" - - m - w
Cj.be vessel was kept afloat, scudding under bare
poles, until they reached Cork. In order to
repair the vessel, it was necessary to unload,
in doing which a hogshead purporting to con
tain Spanish whiting was broken, and a cask
containing saltpetre was found concealed in
the whiting. Further examination disclosed
a cask in each of the hogsheads on board, and
the vessel was condemned. Another vessel
was then chartered and Guelich and his broth
er reached New York in May. They repaired
to tha house of Frederick W. Geisenhainer,
a native of Germany, an eminent and talented
Lutheran divine, and father of the celebrated
clergyman of tho same name now living in
New York, who, in order to divert his mind
from tho afflictions caused by the death of
some of his children, had turned Lis attention
to other pursuits and was then principal agent
of the Allegheny Coal Company and one of its
members. Geisenhainer owned a farm on the
Juniata, to which place G.Philip, his brother,
and Chas. Loss, another manager of the com
pany, went. Coal was in great demand at that
time, and hearing that it abounded in this re
gion, Loss and Guelich's brother came out to
Clearfield and discovered coal, of which they
advised the company on their return to New
York . The company sent out Boker and Lud
low, who gave such flattering accounts that
they purchased what is now known as the
Ringold tract on Clearfield creek, and some
three or four thousand acres near the Mushan
non, embracing the site of Karthaus. Guelich
and Loss started forV Clearfield creek, and
reached there in October, 1811. They re
mained that winter with Alexander Read on
the Ridges. The next spring, Loss went on
tha Ringold property, where he remained a
year and then returned to New York.- Mr.
Guelich worked a few months for Mr. Reed
and then went to Huntingdon county. In the
fall of 1813, he was atMuncy and his inclina
tion was to return home, but Geisenhainer
would not hear of it and persuaded him to go
up to the company's lands near the Musban
non. Just before Christmas he and Joseph
Ritchie attempted to ascend the river. They
reached Birch island, but the ice and snow
compelled them to return. Having built two
boats and procured provisions, Guelich, ac
companied by John Frazer and James Bow
man, after spending three days in ascending
tho river, reached the present site of Kart
haus and slept, tho night of April 8th, 1814,
on the bank of the Mushannon. They at once
commenced the erection of a cabin which was
completed on Good Friday. Some six weeks
were passed in clearing off land for the erec
tion of houses for those who were to be en
gaged in the future operations of the compa
ny at Karthaus. A difference in opinion be
tween Guelich and O. F. J. Junge. who had
been sent out by the company as manager, e
termined Guelicli to leave the day beforo Gei
senhainer, in company with John Reiter, came
up with about seven German families. Gei
senhainer prevailed on Guelich to go to that
part of their lands, known as Ringold, on
Clearfield creek. He farmed the Ringold place
until 1818, and acted as agent for the company
until lately when the balance of tho lands in
the county was sold. Whilst at Ringold, he
became acquainted with and married, in 1815,
Sarah, a daughter of Frederick Haney, by
whom be had ten children, nine of whom live.
Having become possessed of some means,
which had descended to him in Germany, be
purchased from his brother-in-law, John Kline,
bis present residence, to which he removed.
Mr. Guelich was appointed Treasurer in 1830,
filled that office during -three years, and then
acted as deputy under Martin Hoover foi two
years longer. He has acted as Treasurer of
the Bible Society from its organization in 1827
until now.
The land on which Guelich lives was first
occupied by a German bachelor named Jacob
Anspach, who remained on it a few years and
sold his improvement to John Kline in 1805.
Kline was born in Northampton county, but
spent his youth in Centre. He was in the
county several times - between 1802 and the
time of his purchase. For soma years after
he settled, he was not aware whose land he oc
cupied, but Mr. Montgomery, of Philadelphia,
coming here to make arrangements of sale
with some other settlers near tho mouth of
Montgomery creek, informed him that he was
on his land. Kline wanted to leave, but Mont
gomery insisted that be had done too much
work, on the land to lose it, and that he should
purchase. He then sold the land on the most
favorable terms to Kline, who, on selling to
Guelich, purchased a piece at the Point,
which he afterwards traded for the land on
which be resides at present.
(TO BE C05TISCED.)
A celebrated European naturalist has dem
onstrated that the hedgehog is proof against
the goison of venomous serpents, even when
bitten by them on t!he snout or tongue. The
animal prefers'to make his abode where ad
ders, vipers, and similar reptiles abound, as be
feeds on thera with great relUb.
'I don't think, husband, that you are very
smart.' "No indeed, wife, but everybody
kcowa that I an avfuJly shrevetd."
FANNY CLIFTON'S ELOPEMENT.
BY MARY GKACB H ALPINE.
. "Fannie," said Judge Clifton to his daugh
ter, one morning; laying down the paper, eve
the top of which he bad beeor for some time
regarding hjycome hnber,' my child."
. Fanny very dutifully did as she Was bidden.
And as sho stood by his side, the Judge took
both of her small r bands in one of his, and
smoothing caressingly with the other Iter soft
shining hair, looked tenderly into her face.
"You are a woman, now, Fannie,' he said.
"Eighteen: last Christmas, . papa, returned
Fannie, demurely, trying to assume the digni
ty and gravity - which belong to that mature
age, though to tell the truth, :they looked
strangely outpf keeping -with her slight form
and girlish face, and in spite of all her efforts,
her rosy mouth would, dimple with smiles,
and her eyes wear the arch, saucy expression
natural to them. - - . . 1
"Can it be possible ?'? exclaimed .the old
gentleman, heaving a deep sigh. "How . timo
does go, to be sure. You are a year older
than your mother was when I married her.
Well well." he resumed, after a pause, taking
off his spectacles, and wiping them carefully,
he readjusted them upon bis nose, "I suppose
I must come to it some time, and it may as
well be first as last. All fathers have to Iobo
their daughters, and I suppose I shall have
to make up my uiind to lose you."
"Lose me, papa!" exclaimed Fannie, open
ing her eyes in astonishment. "Why, what
do you mean ? I hope I am not going to die
yet awhile." . ....
"You know well enongh what I mean, you
jade. I mean, that like all the rest of the sil
ly young girls, who never know when they are
well off, you will be getting married."
"For shame, papa," said Fannie, blushing
and laughing. "I shall do no such thing." .-
-'Of course not," returned the Judge,ufily.
"Never had such an idea during the whole
course of yoHr life, I dare say. Couldn't be
persuaded to do anything so highly improper.'
"But what put tbat idea into your head this
morning ?" persisted Fannie, whose curiosi
ty was aroused.
"The visit of a certain young gentleman,
who has requested permission to pay his ad
dresses to you."
'That homely and disagreeable Major Sin
clair, I suppose," said Fannie, scornfully.
"No, my dear, it is not. It was tbat band
some and very agreeable Mr. Chailes Ray.
What do you think of that" ;
To her father's surpiise, Fannie's counte
nance fell ; her rose-bud lips showed a very
perceptible pout, and a frown actually gath
ered on her smooth, open brow.
'Think ?" she repeated, with a disdainful
toss of tho head, "1 think he came on a fool's
errand ; that is what I think."
"Iloity, toity !" exclaimed the old gentle
man, with a puzzled air. "What has come
over you now 7 It seems that you have
changed your opinion very suddenly."
As Mr. Ray never took the trouble to ask
my opinion, it can matter very little to him if
I have," retorted Fannie.
"O, ho ! there is where tho shoe pinches, is
it ?" said Judge Clifton, laughing. "Well,
never mind, niy dear, he is coming here to
day to talk with you about it. I have given
him my full permission."
" Without which he would have stayed a
way, I suppose," said Fanny, in. an under
tone. What is that my dear ?" inquired, the old
Judge who was a little deaf.
"I said that it will not be convenient for
me to see Mr. Ray," said Fannie, in a louder
voice. "He may come if ho chooses, but I
cannot be at home."
Fannie," said Judgo Clifton, sternly,
"what is the meaning of this folly 1 Of course
yon will receive him.. -Mr. Ray is a worthy
and honorable man, and I shall insist that he
shall be treated civilly."
"I suppose the next thine you will be in
sisting on my having him for a husband," she
returned, her eyes filling with this unwonted
harshness in her indulgent father.
"My dear child," said the Judge, kindly,
touched by the evident grief of his daughter,
though unable to understand the cause, "I
shall insist on -flo such thing. I really sup
posed you had a partiality for tho young man,
and I was glad of it, for I entertain a very
high opinion of him. Only remember that I
desire you to see him this evening, and tell
him yourself."
But it so happened that business of a very
pressing nature called Fannie over to her sis
ter's that evening, much to her lovers disap
pointment and her father's chagrin, who was
quite mystified at his daughter's conduct.
"Only to think, Mary," said Fannie, as she
drew a chair up to the table where her sister
was sewing, "tbat Charles Ray has asked pa
pa's permission to visit me."
Well it's just what I expected," replied
Mary, quietly.
. "What! without a word to me about it ?"
"I suppose he was pretty well informed of
your sentiments in regard to him," said her
sister smiling. '
"Well, be will find himself mistaken if he
thinks he is going to marry me." said the
little lady with dignity. "I have no idea of
being bargained for like apiece of merchan
dise 1"
" Why, Fannio ! I really thought that you
liked Charley. I am sure it was very proper
and honorable in him to ask papa's permission
before speaking to you."
"Very proper, 1 dare say," said Fannie
scornfully. "But I can't abide these proper
people that always do everything "by rule. : I
suppose if papa bad refused, be would have
walked away as a whipped spaniel, and never
come near me."
"How ridiculous, Fannie. Papa thinks a
gread deal of Mr. Ray. I beard him aay only
the other day, tbat be would rather have him
for a son-in-law than any one he knew."" ,
"He thinks a great deal more of him than I
do, then," was Fannie's scornful rejoinder.
"I have no idea of having husband picked
out for me. 1 can make my own selection.
And I would rather never marry, than to have
for my husband such a tame, spiritless man as
Charles Ray !" - .
Fannie was as good as her word. , She took
every opportunity of avoiding her suitor for
whom she had hitherto exhibited a preference,
which would no doubt, in time, have ripened
into a warmer feeling; never giving him a
chance of seeing or speaking with her alone.
This obvious change in ber deportment
quite disheartened poor Charles, who was sin- t
cerely attached to ber, and was a source of
much annoyance to Judge Cliftop, who, bad.
set bis heart on tb8 oatcb
"My child," said the Judge to Fannie, one
morning,- a few days after, "I quite agree with
you in your opinion of Mr. Ray j he is an in
sufferable puppy ?"
"Who, Charles Ray ?" said Fannie, in as
tonishment. . "Yes, Charles Ray, I repeat it, is an Insuffe
rable puppy !" 'said the old gentleman, in a
still more excited tone and manner, bringing
his cane down on the floor with emphasis.
"To keep banging round here, when he knows
he is pot wanted ! -1 shall take the very first
opportunity I have of requesting him to dis
continue his visits.." ,
"Why, how you talk, papa," exclaimed
Fairoie, hep color rising. "I see nothing at
all out of the way in the young man ; be has
always behaved remarkably well, I am sure."
"Perhaps you may not,' replied the Judge,
sternly, "but I do ; which is of some conse
quence, whatever you may think to the con
trary. And I shall make it a point with you
that you abstain from all intercourse with
Mm?' . - .
And so the old gentleman went out of the
room, banging the door after him in a manner
that quite frightened Fannie, who bad never
known her father so excited before.
It so happened tbat Charles called that very
afternoon.. . . . ...
"I cant imagine what papa can see out of
the way with htm," thought Fannie, as she
looked upon bis hahdsome, animated counte
nance. "He has a beautiful smile, and is so
very,gentiemanly in his manner, beside."
Perhaps something of this was visible in
Fannie's countenance. At any rate, there
was something in its expression which embol
dened him. to take a seat by her tide, which
he had not ventured to do for some time.
He had hardly done so, however, when the
door opened, and Judge Clifton walked in.
II is .brow grew dark', as his eye tell on Mr.
Kay. ..
"How is this, Fannie V' he Baid, sternly ;
"I thought that I had previously instructed
you in regard to your intercourse with this
gentleman. . And as for you," he added, turn
ing to Charles, "I beg leave to inform you,
that you are coming here for what you won't
get with my consent. I have other views for
my daughter, and desire that you will, for the
future, keep away from the house."
This tirade so shocked and astonished Fan
nie, that she burst into tears. Upon which,
her father desired her to leave the room, which
she losl no time in obeying.
Alter indulging in a long, hearty cry, Fan
nie wiped her eyes, and went over to her sis
ter's to pour all her grievances into her sym
pathising bosom.
Mary consoled her as well as she could, but
ended in advising her to soften her father's
feelings by avoiding: Mr. Ray as much as pos
sible. To which the young lady very indig
nantly responded, that she would die first.
Tbat she would show papa that she was not a
child to be controlled in tbat way. Not she.
Fannie stayed to tea; and in the evening
who should come in but Charles Ray. The
meeting was rather embarrassing to both, but
Fannie, anxious to atone for her father's rude
ness to him, was more than usually gracious
and conciliating, and this soon wore away.
Charles remained all tho evening, and at its
close, accompanied Fannie to her father's
door, though he did not consider it advisable
to go farther.
"How well Mr. Ray looked to-night," said
Fannie to herself, as she entered her room.
"I never saw him so agreeable."
After this, Fannie met him frequently at
her sister's, and every succeeding intervjpv
deepened the favorable impression she receiv
ed that evening. At last the lady's heart was
fairly caught, was brought to terms, and o
bliged to surrender, and to tbat "tame,
spiritless man, Charles Ray."
When Fannio began to realise the state of
her feelings, the strange' aversion that her
father had so suddenly conceived for her lover
began to trouble her. Bat in spite of all she
could say, sho was unable to persuade him to
renew his former proposition to the Judge, or
to make the least attempt to conciliate him.
Weeks passed, ' and as there appeared to be
do hope of obtaining Judge Clifton's consent,
Charles at last proposed a clandestine mar
riage, and after a severe struggle in Fannie's
heart between ber affection for her father, and
her love for him, the latter triumphed.
It was nearly eleven o'clock at night, and
Fannie Clifton sat at the open window of her
room, anxiously awaiting the approach of her
lover.- An elopement does not appear to be
such a fanny affair, after all ; her cheeks were
pale and tears filled her eyes as she thought of
the indulgent father that she was about to
leave 'forever. Suddenly a low whistle fell
upon ber ear. Fannie seized her bonnet and
shawl and glided noiselessly down the stairs,
and was soon in her lover's arms.
Dear Charles," she sobbed. "I am afraid
I'm doing wrong. It "seems ungrateful, to
leave poor papa, who has been so kind to me."
"Do you love him more .than you do me,
Fannie ?" inquired Charles, a little reproach-.
fully.
"O, no ! Charles, I do not mean that. But
do yon really think that be will forgive me ?"
"I have not. the least donbt of it, darling,"
he replied, a quiet smile playing around his
lips. , -
Soothed by this assurance, she allowed him
to lift ber into the carriage.
" "I hope you are not going to stop here,
Charles,", said Fannie, in alarm, shrinking
back into the carriage, as, alter riding nearly
a mile, they drew np in front of a large white
house. "Why, this is Elder Kingsley's! I
know him very well.'
- "O I that will make no difference," replied
Charles, gaily, jumping out, and then holding
out his bands for ber to alight. "I've told
him all about it. He is expecting us."
- It seems so ; for the venerable man had not
'yet retired,and manifested no surprise at their
appearance, or the arrand on. which they came.
They stood up, and Elder Kingsley, in a few
solemn words, united them for life. . The cer
emony was so brief tbat Fannie could hardly
realise that she was a wife and looked up be
wildered into her husband's face, who was
looking down upon ber with a proud and hap
py smile. - - .
They were too much absorbed in their own
happiness to observe the appreach of a gentle
man who had-entere1 nnperceived, until he
stood directly opposite them. Fannie turned,
and uttered a cry of terror and surprise, for it
was Judge Clifton,wbose eyes were fixed upon
ber with a look of severe displeasure ; , though
attentive observer would have noticed
a light twitching around the month, evident
ly prompted-by aa inclination ta laugh.
"Forgive me, papa!" exclaimed the new
made bride, bursting into tears.
"Ha, ha, ha !" laughed the Judge, unable
longer to contain himself. "Forgive you ! of
course I won't. I'll cut you off without a
shilling banish yon from my house forever,
you deceitful baggage, you ! Do you know
what you have done, you ungrateful . minx !
You have married the very man I have select
ed for you done the very thing you declared
over and over again, that you never would do.
Ha, ha, ha ! it is the most capital joke-1 ever
read of." .:-
When Fannie comprehended the successful
ruse that had been practiced upon ber, she
made a strong effort to assume a displeased
and indignant look, but it was a complete
failure. . !
- She was, in reality, too happy at the unex
pected turn that affairs had taken, to look oth
erwise than pleased, and received the congrat
ulations of her numerous friends, who now
poured in from an adjoining room, with all the
6tniles and blushes usual on such occasions.
"Are you offended, dearest?" inquired
Charles, as soon as they were free from obser
vation. Fannie might have been, bnt there
certainly was no trace of amrer in the soft
blue eyes that were raised to his, overflowing
with love and happiness.
RUSSIAN JUSTICE.
Last December, an officer in the elegant u
niform of the Chevalier Guards, galloped along
one of the most crowded and fashionable streets
in St. Petersburg!. Passing a magasin des
modes, he saw a charming young girl enter.
He followed her, and was struck by her cheer
ful grace, and the freshness and tenderness
which distinguished her. On her retiring, he
learnt that she was the daughter of a poor CAi
nowick (civilian,) that the shop-people work
ed for her at a low rate, from admiration of
her youth and character, and that she would
return at six.
The officer, with two of his friends, indulg
ed in a sumptuous dinner, inflaming bis pas
sions with costly champagne. But exactly at
six, a large and gorgeous troika, (a double sea
ted sledge,) stopped near the magasin, harnes
sed with three splendid horses. The poor 01
ga advanced, was instantly halfstifled in a fur
cloak, lifted into the troika, carried on to
Czarsko Zelo, where a convenient and lonely
house of entertainment awaited them, and was
there brutally ravished, after indignantly re
jecting every kind of bribe. But ber resis
tance was so violent that she disfigured the fa
ces of her assailants.
On her return, her father appealed to the
hated police, but in vain. The police master
assured him tbat the criminals could not be
identified. On this her brother, an officer in a
country regiment, was written to. He was in
defatigable in his inquiries, and discovering
that three officers had suddenly annonnced
themselves sick, to bide the scars in their fa-.
ccs, wrote a petition to the Emperor, and suc
ceeded in awakening his sympathy. The po
lice master was summoned, and theCzar charg
ed him instantly to procure a true report of
what had passed. This was done. The crim
inal was Prince Galitzin.
But mark the punishment. The Czar in
stantly compelled him to marry the sufferer,
endow her on the spot with half his worldly
goods, making her at once very wealthy, and
then immediately issued a ukase of divorce,
leaving her entirely free. All the three offi
cers were transported to a country regiment,
deep in the heart of Russia, and were refused
any rise in military rank.'
Never was poetical justice more rapid and
more complete. The sentence does honor to
the Emperor, and almost makes us long, in
certain cases, for an omnipotent despot. But
this Is not the only instance in which Alexan
der II. has given proofs of a good heart and
great vigor. The circumstance has excited
an immense sensation in the Russian capital,
and will doubtless have good results.
GOLD FROM THE GRAVES.
The aboriginal inhabitants of Central Amer
ica, or those people who occupied it at its dis
covery by the white men of the. East, and ma
ny nations in South America, had a custom of
burying their dead surrounded with gold. In
one instance a corpse has been discovered em
balmed in a case of beaten gold, and from one
tomb, gold to the amount, of $921,000 had
been taken by tha Spaniards in the sixteenth
century. This mining among the graves, or
huacas, as they are called, became of such im
portance that the Spanish crown sent over
commissioners to collect a royalty oi one-fifth
of all gold so obtained, and this produced a
handsome revenue. For some tima these pe
culiar placers have not been much worked, out
still from New Granada and Peru, they have
sent several, thousand pounds' worth annually
to England, where it has been melted down at
the British- mint. ' By a late California arrival
wa learn tbat similar discoveries have been
made at David, Chiriqui, the gold being in the
form of roughly cast images, which wero bu
ried with the dead, evidently as' votive offer
ings to some deity of ancient worship. There
is now a great emigration to these novel "dig
gins," and report says that gold . is very pro
fuse. But we are inclined to think that after
the country has been ransacked by the Span
iards, there cannot be so much' as rumor would
have us believe. Dr. Etls, the surgaon of the
Hoses Taylor, has brought some specimens to
New York, and among, them ona representa
tion, of the bat, . the eagle, tho peccary,
the frog,' and other animals. The lar
gest, representing a bat, is about five inches
long by three and a half inches in width, and
weighs six ounces. The gold is generally a
bout20 cara's fine some of it slightly alloyed
with copper and is worth as merchandize a
bout $17 the ounce ; but, as objects of curios
ity, the images are sold on tho spot for $20
the ounce. Tha images are cast and polished,
and exhibit much ingenuity in the modeling.
The people by whom such objects were made
mnBt have been considerably advanced in civ
ilization. Tha study of American antiquities
will doubtless be advanced by the discovery
of these remarkable images, and we think tbat
they should do preserved, instead of being
thrown into the refiner's melting-pot, liks an
unfashioned nugget or scaly dust.
; Recently a man was arraigned for stealing a
demijohn of whisky. "Are you guilty or not
guilty ?" asked the clerk. "Wall, yer can
call.it what you likes, I tuk the whisky, tbat
1 admit, and drunk it, too." " You took it
without leave, did you not V I never wait
to be asked, when that article is arooad !"
VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY NO. 2.
We can then by an examination of the fixed
principles contained in the ashes of vegetables
determine the nature of tho earth' proper to
the various species of plants ; likewise, we can
know the chemical composition of useful prin
ciples, which we should seek there ; and be
able to distribute properly the humus which
yields carbon, and the manure or muck which
pt oduces azote or nitrogen. Let us give soma
examples The straw of wheat contains sili
cate of potassa, and the grain, phosphates of
potassa, lime and magnesia. Earth the most
abundantly provided with manure and humus
shall then give a sorry harvest if the substan
ces above name exist not properly commin
gled with tha soil. We say properly commin
gled, for if we there find only a small quantity
of the phosphates, and the silicates predomi
nate, we shall have a harvest rich in straw but
poor in grain ; if the silicates and phosphates
are wanting we shall have many leaves and a
fine flexible straw like that of which they make
Italian (Leghorn) hats ; if the ground contain
only calcareous matter or sand, the wheat har
vest will be nothing, because tha potash ne
cessary to the growth of the plant is wanting ;
but if, on the contrary, to the silicates and
phosphates of the alkalies, ammonia is joined,
then the harvest will be perfect without hu
mus being necessary, for the atmospbers is an
inexhaustable reservoir of carbonic acid.
The potato yields almost one seventh of its
weight in alkaline ashes, whilst wheat furnish
es less than a twentieth. The same earth, then,
is not equally favorable to the two plants. It
the potato is cultivated in a soil rich in hu
mus (which is not indispensable for wheat) tha
carbonic acid furnished by the humus favors
the development of fecula or starch , if, on
the other hand, the ground is provided with
dung, this nitrogenous mannro augments the
proportion of. albumen and of cellular tissue,
and renders the tubers soapy and much less
nutiitious. The same observation applies to
turnips. Beets also yield more sugar in a soil
analogous to that which the potato demands.
Oak wood furnishes in alkaline ashes one
fortieth of its weight, and tho leaves one twen
tieth ; the firs give less than a hundredth and
their leaves are ten times less rich in potash
than those of the oak. Behold why limestone
and sandy soils, poor in alkalies, produce on
ly some green trees ; whilst those which con
tain felspar, gneiss, granite, basalt and other
silicates, produce the most beautiful forests
of oaks and other large leaved trees. "
The ashes of vegetables always contain phos
phates of potassa, lime and magnesia, especi
ally those of tho seeds of the cereals and le
gumes, and we know that in the animal king
dom phosphate of lime constitutes the solid
part of bone. This striking agreement which
forms one more bond between the two king
dom, shows that the presence of phosphate
of lime is a condition, indispensable to the
existence as well of vegetables as of animals. ;
From all the facts which have come to light
we must conclude that the various vegetables,
require in the soil, certain mineral substances
without which , they cannot prosper. -The ex
amination of vegetable ashes discloses their
presence there, and if the soil, where we wish
to cultivate those vegetables, does not contain
like mineral substances (which can be Verified
by analysis) tho cause of its sterility becomes
known and the means of remedying it also.
The Milky Way. The Milky Way forms
the grandest feature of the firmanent. It com
pletely encircles the whole fabric of tha skies,
and sends its light down upon u.c, actor
ding to the best observations, from no less
than 18,000,000 of suns. These are planted at
various distances, too remote to be more than
feebly understood ; but their light, the medi
um of measurement, requires for its transit to
our earth periods ranging from ten to a thou
sand years. Such is the sum of the great
truths revealed to us by the two Hershels,whot
with a zeal which no obstacle could daunt,
have explored every part of tho prodigious
circle. Sir William Ilershel, after accom
plishing his famous section, believed that ho
had gaged the Milky Way to its lowest depth,
affirming that he could follow a cluster of stars
with his telescope, constructed expressly fop
the investigation, as far back as would require
330,000 years for the transmission of its light.
But, presumptuous as it may seem, we must
be permitted to doubt this assertion, as the
same telescope, in the same master-hand was
not sufficiently powerful to resolve even the
nebulae In Orion. Nor must we forget that
light, our only clue to those unsearchable re
gions, expands and decomposes In its progress,
and coming from a point so remote, its radiant
waves would be dispersed in space. . Thus the
reflection is forced upon us, that new clusters
and systems, whose beaming light will never
reach our earth, still throng beyond ; and that,
though it is permitted to man to : behold. the
immensity, he shall never see the bounds, of
the creation. Marvel of Science
A friend of ours, just returned from Ken
tncky, tells tho following story, which he says
Is true : A "hard-shell" preacher in that sec
tion, who was not very particular about paying
his debts, sent his boy one Sunday morning to
a storo kept by a man named' Paul; to get a
few pounds of. butter "on tick ;" but Paul re
fused to give the butter until the old gentler
man should settle op his account. The boy
then left the store, and proceeded to church
where his father had already commenced his
discourse ; and just as the boy entered the
room, the old gentleman, alluding to the A
postle PanI, cried out "What does Pan!
say J" The boy, thinking yjat bis father had
spoken to him, replied at th4op of bis voice,
"Paul says you can't get anotheriiarned pound
'til yoa pay off the old score !?' The effect of
this new "epistle of Paul,'? thus abruptly sndL
unexpectedly delivered, can be more easily
imagined than described. - j
. "I say, Mr. Pilot, ain't yon going to start
soon ?" said a cockney on board a ateamer ly-
clears up," replied the captain. We!l Its
starlight now over head,'; said the cockney.'
"Oh ! yes, but we're not going that way ," said i
' t t'';."-' -,i
Tha Parisian belles have adopted,-as -tha
"reigning mode," plain rice straw or Leghorn ,
hats, without any trimming whatever. Some
of these unpretentious hats coat ow two ha
dred dollars a pieco, which probably accounts)
for their popularity with the gay ladies 6f the"
French matropoBs. ' - ? - t y;;. vr- -v-.
r, ' ml-v;. f '
Do not believe one half that you bear; but
make fare that you fceliere all you say.