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"ai • C .W Y E ,t.'"it.at ...1 ,- 4: -,".= A -,,-...,,, xic ~.4,,,,,..,_ ,q,-.: , , : k i. ~1,,,... ~,,,„*„.,, ;14 , ~$ . 4 , ..; k , ;, ,...,.. ~,4 . .,, ;,, ,,,, -..i......„, 4 „, , ,, ~, lv;i ~.. i; 1 ~..,„, 8 4,4-, .e.,v w 1; ' .7 ^.41 - teO• w-,- ' - 1r , " , r"...;.%:' ,:ktv ...., '''''''r•3:. ...' 4 ' - 'l'4 ' 'rt'r ..- ` . .';:• 4( '' ''',.?.P' ~... A ';? 7 , - :'; ‘ .4 7 . 4.:ct '4 \4 .. .; N-- , ^ ' '<v4ll4tlA+' • ' ''':'`. Ife '`'. ''"''''' A S) ' . - 04 • -..-......- ..1 a, ' ' -• 1 --. 4 '' .'.' ,X..`: - ., ..**. 11 / 4 %... • / ' I' '' ; W t .. _,.... , BY W. LEWIS. COURT AFFAIRS. NOVEIIIIIBEFL TERM 'ISM , . TRIAL LIST. FIRST WEER. 'John Brown vs Caleb Brown. H. Mytingcr vs P. Livingston. 'J. Simpson Africa vs Daniel Flenner et al. Hirst for Cal dwell vs Daniel Africa, Hon. John Stewart vs Love & Smith. D. Caldwell vs Dell 6- Crotsley. Comth: for Bratton vs M. Crownover. Joshua Johns vs Blair, Robison, 4 Co. Horatio Trexier, 4 Co. vs J. 4- W. Saxton. Thomas Clark's heirs vs Brison Clark. Charles S. - Black vs D. MeMurtrie q. tam. Adolphus Patterson vs John Doughenbcugh Comth. for Kyler vs Robert Madden. SECOND WEEK George Jackson vs Sassaman's Ex'rs. et al. Sterritt & Potter vs J. Alexander, Garnishee. John Lee vs Joseph P. Moore. Amos Potts vs James Neely. S. Creek & Philipsburg I'-. Co. vs W. Graham Waterman, Young ,S Co. vs John Jamis..n • James Entrekin vs Brison Clark. • Grand Jurors. Samuel Barr, farmer Jackson. David Beck, Jr., farmer, Warriorsmark. Samuel Book, farmer, Tell. William Coleburn, farmer, Franklin. John Carver, mechanic, Barree. Jos. Cremer, mason, Clay, now Huntingdon John Flenner, farmer ; Henderson, Samuel Gregory' farmer, West. Henry Horton, farmer, Tod. John S. Isett, iron master, Franklin. Richard Madden, farmer, Clay. Berriamin McMahan, farmer, Barree. William McLain, farmer, Dublin. John B. Morrow, farmer, Tell. James Neely, farmer, Dublin. Henry Orlady, physician, West. 'Samuel Rolston. Warriorsmark. John G. Stewart, carpenter, West. William Sims, clerk, Franklin. Samuel Stewart, drover, Jackson. Andrew Wilson, farmer, West. John S. Wilson, farmer, West. Jonathan P. Doyle, Shirley. David McGarvey, farmer, Shirley. Traverse Jurors FIRST WEEK Thomas N. Barton, farmer, Shirley. Samuel Beaver, farmer, Hopewell. Jacob E. Bare, miller, Springfield. George Cresswell, merchant, West. James Duff, farmer, 'Jackson. Henry Davis, blacksmith, West. William Dowlan, farmer, Penn. Adam rouse, farmer, Hopewell. John Gehrett, Brady. Charles Green, Esq., farmer, West. Henry Garner, farmer, Walker. Augustus Green, farmer, Clay. Adam Heeter, farmer, Clay. Thomas Hooper, farmer, Cromwell. Thomas B. Hysk ill, farmer, Warriorsmark. Adams Houch, farmer, Tod. Asahel Flight, laborer, Huntingdon. Samuel Harnish, farmer, Morris. Jacob Hicks, farmer, Walker. Samuel 'lsenberg, carpenter, Porter. John Jamison, merchant, Dublin. Daniel Knode, farmer, Porter. Adam Keith, farmer, Tod. James Long, farmer, Shirley,. ~James Lane, farmer, Cromwell. James Lynn, mechanic, Springfield. Joseph Mingle, farmer, Warriorsmark. .John Mash, farmer, Jackson. George Miller, farmer, West. Reuben Massey, farmer, Barree. !Robert Madden, merchant, Springfield. Samuel Neff, farmer, Porter. John Piper, farmer, Tod. ,John Reed, farmer, Hopewell. •Henry Rhodes, farmer, Shirley. Jonas Rudy, farmer, Barree. Abraham Shaw, farmer, Union. Abednego Stevens, merchant, Warriorsmark Samuel Sharrer, farmer, Tell. David Stevens, plasterer, Springfield. Isaac Taylor, farmer, Dublin. Walter C. Van Tries, clerk, Warriorsmark. John Whitney, manager, Tod. Simeon Wright, Esq., farmer, Union. Isaac Yocum, farmer, Penn. Lewis Knode, farmer, Porter. John Bisbin, mason, Porter. 'Daniel Perghtal, farmer, Penn. SECOND WEEK. William Appleby, farmer, Dublin. David Albright, milrer, Porter. Henry Boyles, farmer, Penn. Samuel Bell, farmer, Shirley. Basil Devor, farmer, Cromwell. John Eberly, farmer, West. Jaime Fleming, farmer, Jackson. Thomss Fisher, merchant, Huntingdon. Samuel Garner, farmer, Penn. JameS Hutchison, farmer, Henderson. Samuel Harris; farmer, Penn. Archibald Hutchison, farmer, Warriorsmark Evans Jones, gentleman, Franklin. William gritler, farmer, Warriorsmark. Daniel Kyper, farmer, Walker. Thomas Locke, laborer, Springfield. John Long, merchant, Shirley. John Murphey, shoemaker, West. William Morgan, farmer, Warriorsmark. James Morrow, farmer, Franklin. Charles H. Miller, tanner, Huntingdon. Joseph Marlin, farmer, Porter George McCrum, Jr., farmer, Barree. George W. McClain, farmer, Tod. Jesse McClain, farmer, Tod. James S. Oaks, farmer, Jackson. Samuel Pheasant, farmer, Porter. Andrew Smith, farmer, Union. Martin Shank, farmer, Warriorsmark. William Stewart, farmer, West. Wm. B. Smith, farmer, Jackson. Dorsey Silknitter, farmer, Barree. Peter C. Swoope, Huningdon George L. Travis, mechanic, Franklin. Michael Ware, farmer, West. William Hutchison farmer, Warriorsmark. rpH E handsomest assortment of Dc - lanes, Per. sian Cloth, Larilla Cloth, Beragc de Lanes, Paramette Cloth, and all wool Merinocs, all wool de lanes, of the best styles and selected with the greatest care, for sale by s. & W. SAXTON. THE HUNTINGDON GLOBE, "The oldest inhabitant could not recognise Per annum, in advance, $ 1 50 it now. Climbing up the .Redan which " if if not paid in advance, 200 was fearfully cumbered with the dead, we No paper discontinued until all arrearages witnessed the scene of the desperate attack arc paid. and defence, which cost both sides so much A tailure to notify a discontinuance at the ex- blood. English dead, some of them scorched piration of the term subscribed for will be con.: sidcrod a new engagement. and blackened by the explosion and others Terms of Advertising I lacerated beyond recognition. The quantity 1 ins. .2 ins. 3 ins of broken gabions arid gun carriages here : 25 37a 50 , was extraordinary; the ground was covered 50 75 1 00 i with them. The bomb proofs were the same 100 150 205!as in the Malakoff, and in one of them a 150 225 300 i music book was found, with a woman's name 3 ni. 6 rn. 12 i n.,- 1 i it, and a canary bird and vase of flowers $3 00 $5 00 880.: re outside tht entrancie .. 500 800 120 0- „ -• 7 50 10 00 1 5 00 l An Indian Execution In Michigan-- 900 14 00 23 001 Avenging the IVlurder---Horrible Cru -15 00 25 00 38 00 elty. Six lines or less, 1 siaare,l6 lines, brevier, •) 41 1,1. = I square, .6 3 ill 4 " 5 i. 10 " " 25 00 40 00 60 00 Professional and Business Cards not exceed ng 6 lines,one year, 4 00 Horrible Scenes Within Sebasto pol From the Sebastopol correspondence of the Londen Times; "Of all the pictures of the horrors of war which have been presented to the world the hospital of Sebastopol presents the most hor rible, heartrending, and revolting. It cannot be described, and the imagination of a Fuseli could not conceive anything at all like unto it. How the poor human - body can be muti lated and yet hold its soul within, when ev ery limb is shattered, and every vein and ar tery is pouring out the life stream, one might study here at every step, and at the same time wonder what little will kill. The buil ding used as a hospital is one of the noble piles inside the dock-yard wall, and is situa ted in the centre of the row, at right angles to the line of the Redan. "The whole row was peculiarly exposed to the action of shot and shell bounding over the Redan, and to the missiles directed at the Barrack Battery, and it bears in sides, roofs, windows, and doors, frequent and destructive proofs of the severity of the cannonade. En tering one of these doors I beheld such a sight as few men, thank God, have ever witnessed! In a long low room, supported by square pil lars,. melted at the top, and dimly lighted through shattered and unglazed window frames, lay the wounded Russians who had been abandoned to our mercies by their gen eral. The wounded did I say I No, but the, dead, the rotten and festering corpses of the soldiers, who were left to die in their extreme agony untended, uncared for, packed as close as they can be stowed, some on the floor, oth ers on wretched trestles and bedsteads, or pallets of straw, sopped and saturated with blood, which oozed and trickled through upon the boor, mingled with the droppings of cor ruption. "•With the roar of exploding fortresses in their ears, with shell and shot forcing through the roof - -d sides of the rooms in which they ..e roof and sides of the rooms lay, with the crackling and hissing of fire around them, these boor fellow's, who had served their loving friends and master the Czar but two well, were consigned to their terrible fate. Many might have been saved by ordinary care. Many lay, yet alive, with maggots crawling about their wounds. Many nearly mad by the scene around them, or seeking escape from it in their extremest ag ony, had rolled away under the beds, and glared out on the heart-stricken--oh ! with such looks. Many, with legs and arms bro ken and twisted, the jagged splinters sticking through the raw flesh, implored aid, water, food, or pity, or, deprived of speech by the approach of death, or by dreadful injuries on the head and trunks, pointed to the lethal spot. "Many seemed bent alone on making their peace with Heaven. The attitudes of some were so hideously fantastic as to appal and root one to the ground by a sort of dreadful fascination. Could that bloody mass of clo thing and white bones ever have been a hu manbeing, or that burnt black mass of flesh have ever been a human soul 3. It was fearful to thirk what the answer must be. The bod ies of numbers of men were swollen and bloated to an incredible degree, and the fea tures distended to a gigantic size, with eyes protruding from the sockets, and the black ened tongue lolling out of the mouth, com pressed tightly by the teeth which had set upon it in the death rattle, made one shudder and reel round. - "In the midst of one of these chambers of horrors,—for there were many of them— were found some living English soldiers, and among them poor Captain Vaughan, of the 90th, who has since succumbed to his wounds. I confess it was impossible for me to stand the sight which horrified our most experien ced surgeons—the deadly, clammy stench, the smell of gangrened wounds, of corrupted blood, of rotten flesh, were intolerable and odious beyond endurance. But what must the wounded have felt who were obliged to endure all this, and who passed away with out a hand to give them a cup of water, or a voice to say one kindly word to them ! "Most of these men were wounded on Saturday—many perhaps on the Friday be fore ; indeed, it is impossible to say how long they might have been there. In the hurry of their retreat the Muscovites seem to have carried in dead men to get them out of the way, and to have put them upon pallets in horrid mockery. So ~that this retreat was secured the enemy cared hut little for the wounded. On Monday only did they receive those whom we sent out to them during a brief armistice for the purpose, which was, I believe, sought by ourselves, as our over crowded hospitals could not contain, and our overworked surgeons could not attend to, any more. . 'The Great Redan was next visited. Such a scene of wreck and ruin All the houses behind it a mass of broken stones—a c lock turret, with a shot right through the clock— tl a pagoda in ruins—another clock tower with all the clock destroysd save the dial, with the words ‘Baiwise, Louden' thereon—cook ! houses, where human blood was running a mong the utensils; in one place a shell had lodged in the boiler and blown it and its ; ' contents, and probably its attendants, to pieces; everywhere wreck and destruction. This evidently was a beauquartior once. HUNTINGDON, OCTOBER 81,- 1855. The Clinton county (Michigan) Express publishes the following and vouches for its authenticity. It is certainly a curious his tory : In the different parts of Central Michigan there are two tribes of Indians, the Ottawas and Chippewas. They are friendly to each other, and during the huntinc , season, fre quently encamp near each other. In the fall of 1853, a party of one tribe built their cab ins on the banks of the Maple river, and a party of the other tribe, about eighty in num ber, encamped in what is now called the town of Dallas. It. is unnecssary to speak of their life in these camps—suffice it to say that the days were spent in hunting, and the nights in drinking "fire water" and carousing. In one of the revels at the camp on Maple river, an Indian, maddened by liquor, killed his squaw, and to conceal the deed threw her body upon the fire. Recovering from the stupor of the revel, he saw the signs of his guilt before him, and fearing the wrath of his tribe, he fled towards the other encampment. His absence was noticed—the charred re mains of the poor squaw were found, and the cry for blood was raised. The savages were sour. upon his track—they pursued him into the encampment of their neighbors—he was found, apprehended, and in solemn council doomed to the death which, in the stern old Indian code, is reserved for those who shed the blood of their kin. ft was a slow, tortu ring, cruel death. A hatchet was put in the victim's hands, he was led to a.larg,e log that was hollow, and made to assist in fixing it for his coffin. This was done by cutting in to it some distance on the top, in two pla ces, about the length of a man apart, then slabbing off, and digging the hollow until larger, so as to admit his body. This clone, he was taken back and tied fast to a ti ee.— Then they smoked aril drank the "fire wa ter," and when evening came they kindled fires around him, at some distance off, but so that they would shine full upon him. And now commenced the or g ies—they drank to intoxication—they danced and sung in their wild Indian manner, chanting the dirge of the recreant brave. The arrow was fitted to the bowstring; and ever and anon, with its shrill twang, it sent a missile into the quiv ering flesh of the homicide; and to heighten his misery, they cut off his ears and nose. Alternately drinking, dancing, beating their rude drums arid shooting their arrows into the victim, the night passed. The next day was spent in sleeping and eating, the victim meanwhile still bound to the tree. What his reflections were, we of course cannot tell, but he bore his punish ment as a warrior should. When night was closed around, it brought his executioners to their work again. The scene of the first night was re-enacied, and so it was the next night, and the next, and so on for a week. Seven long and weary days did he stand there tortured with the most cru el torture, before his proud head dropped up on his breast, and his spirit left its clayey tenement for the hunting grounds of the Great Spirit. And when it did, they took the body, wrapped it in a new clean blanket, and pla ced it in the log coffin he had helped to hol low. They put his hunting knife by his ' side_ that he might have something to defend him self on the way, his whiskey bottle that he might cheer his spirits with a draught now and then, and his tobacco and pipe that he might smoke. Then they put on the cover, drove down the stakes each side of the logs, and filled up between them with logs and brush. The-murdered squaw was avenged. The camp was broken up, and the old still ness and quiet once more reigned over the forest spot where was consumated this sin gular act of retributive justice. Our informant has visited the spot often since then--the log is still there with its cover on, and beneath may be seen the skele ton of the victim. Mr. Clay's Successor in the Senate. Senator Dixon, of Kentucky, formerly a Clay Whig, but who, during the recent elec tion in that State, addressed several Know Nothing assemblages, announces in a recent letter his determination hereafter to act with the Democratic party of the Union. Mr. Dixon is the successor of Henry Clay in the United States Senate, and is a gentleman of great weight of character and influence: HENDERSON, Sept. 24, 1855. GENTLEMEN :-I am in the receipt of your favor of the 15th inst., requesting me to be present and address a mass meeting of the Democracy, to be held at Paducah on the 27th inst. You are right ir. supposing that it is my intention to cooperate in future with the Democratic party. The Whig party, with which I have so long acted, has rto lon ger a political existance. have no party now but my country. To this I shall not cease to be faithful. The American• party, divided as it is into two great sectional par ties, the one northern and the other southern, can only injure where it would serve the country; for, instead of strengthening the na tional men of all parties, it can only divide them in all the elections, when union and concert of action are necessary to the very salvation of the country. As far as I can judge, the Democratic party, although weak ened in the free States, is still national, and still co-operates with the southern Democra cy in opposition to the Abolitionists and Free soilers of the north, who, to deOpoy the ineri- tution of slavery, would tend the union as sunder, and bury beneath the ruins of the Constitution the liberties of the country. I regret, gentlemen, that circumstances over which I have no control will prevent my being with you on the occasion alluded to. I am very truly, Your obedient servant, ARCH. DIXON. L. C. TRIMBLE, R. I. f. T WYMAN, and others. How They Plow at Agricultural Fairs, The following good natured communica tion to the _New York Tribune upon the sub ject of plowing is quite interesting. We ticet know what there may be to be said on the other side, but in the matter of plowing we rather like Mr. WARINGS idea of "running his thing into the ground." Srß—The old fogies are not all dead yet, and this is how I know it. But first let me explain my position ; it is all about a "plow ing match" in which I was one of the com petitors—the first premium being $B, and I having received at this exhibition awards to the amount of 5415, a diploma and a book, I cannot be accused of pecuniary disappoint ment. I write this for the benefit of farmers in general, and old fogies in particular. Yes terday being the day for the plowing match of the Westchester County Society, at White Plains, N. Y., I was on the ground with my large plow, three heavy horses abreast, and teamster. The lands, of one-eighth of an acre each, having been laid out and our po sitions selected, we started—there being two other competitors with small plows and two horse teams. The time allotted was an hour, and the result was as follows : One man (Mr. Van Wart, I believe,) plowed his land in thirty-five minutes ; the depth of his furrow was not more than five inches. The second plowed his land, at about the same depth, in about forty minutes ; I plowed my portion in twenty-eight minutes, at an honest and uni form depth of over ten inches. lam within bounds in my figures, for I think that I plow ed nearer a foot than ten inches deep, and I think that five inches is a very lib eral estimate for the others. When comple ted my land lay at least eight inches higher than that joining me ; showing clearly that I had loosened more soil and left it lighter.-- The remarks that I heard as my furrows were rolling up most gloriously were edify ing—to antiquarian philosophers. These are some of them: `.That fellow is a fool." "You needn't tell me that it will do to bring that dead land to the surface." "What-is he do ing? Digging graves 1" etc. Of course there were many who commended the work, and my own neighbors testified to the good re sultsof the same plowing (only much deeper,) on my own farm, but perhaps a majority of those present„ hooted at the idea of—what Why, of plowing in a way that was impos sible in the days of the "wooden bull-plows" of their grand-fathers and incurable in their traditional coarse. I left my surface roughly broken up, while the others were flatly turned upside down.-- Mine was in the best condition for the action of the frost of winter and for immediate har rowing. Theirs were simply samples of pa rallel lines, which are more useful mathemati cally than agriculturally. The next crop will indicate my land in the middle of the field, and will do more than any writing can do to assert the force of scientific truths, even in such every day business as farming. I leave further discussion of the subject to the seed ' which Mr. Fisher may put on the land next 'spring. I write the foregoing not for self laudation, nor from any personal motive, but merely that those who save files of the Tribune for twenty-five years may see that a committee of farmers in the county adjoining New York awarded the third premium to the matt who plowed his land over ten inches deep in twen ty-eight minutes, and gave the first to those who plowed less than one half as deep, and required a longer time. My prize is a work of .some kind on agriculture, and I herewith publiely devote it to the "Committee on Plowing," hoping that they will profit by the instruction it may contain on the supject of thoroughly disintegrating the soil to a sufficient depth. I have no space to say why I plowed no deeper at this time, but I wish that those who doubt the expediency of such plowing would come and see my corn, grown on ground plowed fifteen inches deep, and my Lirna beans, where my furrows averaged more than eighteen inches in depth. They can't beat it with five inch plowing. G. E. WARING, JR. Chappagau, N. Y., Sept. 29 1855. Success in Life It is the peculiar vice of our age and coun try to put a false estimate on the mere acqui sition of riches. Ido not undervalue either wealth or the dilligence and enterprise so often exercised in its attainment. I wonld not say a word to throw doubt on the impor tance of acquiring such a measure of this world's goods as to render one independent, and able to assist others. The young man who thinks he may amuse or employ himself as he sees fit, at the same time throwing the buithen of his support on others, or leading a precarious life, on the verge of debt and bankruptcy, is a dishonor to his species. Rut I assert that the too common mistake, which makes men look upon the acquisition of a fortune, or the having a fine and fashionable house, as constituting success in life, is ex tremely pernicious. Success in life corsists in the proper and harmonious developement of those faculties which God has given us.— Now, we have faculties more important to our welfare than that of making money—fac ulties more conducive to our happiness, and to our health of body and soul. There are higher and better modes of activity than those which are exhibited in multiplying dollars. Men, can leave to their children a better pat rirany than money; they can leave to them the worth of a good example, good habits, a religious faith, a true estimate of the desira ble things of this life; resources of mind and heart, which will shed sunshine on adversity, and give a grace to prosperous fortune. "It is not wealth which is deserving of homage, but the virtues which a man exercises in the slow pursuit of wealth—the abilities so cal- led forth, the self-denials so imposed." I have heard of two brothers, whose father died leaving them five hundred dollars apiece. "I will take this money, and make myself a rich man," said Henry, the younger broth er. "I will take this money, and make my self a good man." said George, the elder. Henry, who knew little beyond the multiplication table, abandoned all thoughts of going to school, and began by peddling, in a small way, over the country. He was shrewd, and quick to learn whatever he gave his attention to; and he gave till his attention to making money. He succeeded. In one par his five hundred dollars had become a thousand. In five years it had grown to be twenty thousand; and at the age of fifty he was worth a million. George remembered the words of the wise man : "With all thy gettings, get understanding." He spent two-thirds of his money in going to school, and acquiring a taste for solid knowledge.— lle then spent the remainder of his patrimony in purchasing a few acres of laud in the neighborhood of a thriving city. He resol ved on being a farmer. After the lapse of thirty-five years, the two brothers met. It was at George's house. A bright, vigorous, alert man was George, though upwards of fifty-five years old. Hen ry, though several years younger, was very infirm. He had kept in his counting-room long after the doctors had warned him to give up business, and now he found himself stricken in health beg and repair. But that was not the worst. He was out of his ele ment when not making money. George took him into the library and show him a fine collection of books. Poor Henry had never cultivated a taste for reading. He looked upon the books with no more interest than he would have looked upon so many bricks. George took him into his garden, but Henry began to cough, and said he was afraid of the east wind. When George pointed out to him a beautiful elm, he only cried, "Pshaw !" George took him into his greehonse and talk ed with enthusiasm of some flowers, which seemed to give the farmer great pleasure.— Henry shrugged his shoulders an yawned, saying, Ah ! I dont care for these things." George asked him if he was fond of paintings and engravings. "No, no ! Don't trouble Yourself," said Henry, "I can't tell one daub from another." "Well, you shall hear my ' daughter Edith play upon the piano; she is no ordinary performer, I assure you." "Now, don't brother—don't, if you love me I" said Henry, beseechingly; "I never could endure music." 'But what can Ido to amuse you? take a ride?" "I am afraid of a horse. But, if you will drive me carefully down to your village Bank I will stop and have a chat with the President." Poor Henry ! Alor.ey was uppermost in his mind. To it he had sacrificed every other good thing. When, a few days afterward, he par ted from- his farmer brother, he laid his hand on his shoulder, and said, "George, you can just support yourself comfortably on the in terest of your money, and I have got enough to buy up the whole of your town, bank and all—and yet, your life has been a success, and mine a dead failure !" Sad, but true words.—Osborne. Do it Yourselves, Boys Do not ask the teacher, or some classmate to solve that hard problem. Do it yourselves. You might as well let them eat your dinner, as "do your sums" for you. It is in study ing, as in eating; he that does it gets the benefit: and not he that sees it done. In al most any school, I would give more for what the teacher learns, than for what the best scholar learns simply because the teacher is compelled to solve all the hard problems, and answer the questions of the lazy boys. Do not ask him to parse the difficult words or assist you in the performance of any of your studies. Do it yourself. Never mind, though they look as dark as Egypt. Don't ask even a hint from any body. Try again. Every trial increases your ability, and you will finally succeed by dint of the very .wis dom and strength gained• in the effor 1, even though at first the problem was beyond your skill. It is the study and not the answer that really rewards your pains. Look at that boy who has succeeded, after six hours hard study, perhaps; how his large eye is lit up with proud joy, as he marches to his class. He treads like a conqueror. And well he may. Last night his lamp burned late, and this morning he waked at dawn. Once or twice he nearly gave up.— He had tried his last thought ; but a new thought strikes him as he ponders the last progress. He tries once more and succeeds ; and now mark the air of conscious strength with which he pronounces his demonstra tion. His poor, weak s3hoolmate, who gave up that same problem af:er his first feint tri al, now looks up to him with something of wonder, as a superior being. And he is su perior. That problem lies there, a great gulf between those boys who stood yesterday side by side. They will never stand together as equals again. The boy that did it for him self has taken a stride upward, anti what is better still, has gained strength to take other and greater ones. The boy who waited to see others do it, has lost buth strength and courage, and is already looking for some good excuse to give up school and study forever. Conn. School Journal TIIE LAST SNARE STORY.—The States Rights Democrat, published at Elba, Alabama narrates the following: "Two gentlmen were lately in the woods, when their attention was attracted by an uproarious noise of hogs. Thinking that something uncommon was to the spot, and found that the hogs had been in a fight with a very large rattle snake. The fight, from appearances, had been a long and desperate one. The snake vas torn to pieces, three hogs dead ; and a fourth dying. They say thst, as the last hog would groan, the snake would raise his head, being unable to do anything else. The snake and fourth hog soon died. They report that for thirty yards around the grass and ground were torn up. The snake was sir and a half or seven feet long. The hogs, in the fight, had demolished all the rsttles except two !" VOL. ii, NO. 19. Grant Thornburn on Tom Paine k We select the following about the celebra ' ted author of the "Age of Reason," written by the venerable Grant Thornburn, in March I last, in the New York Observer. I 1 will tell you the truth, as I shall stand l before the Judge of all the earth in a few months ; being now In my 83d year—a step between me and death. To make the narra tive plain, 1 must first say a few words about William Carver, with whom.l.ll.r. Paine and I boarded. From, my youth I liked Mr. Paine's political writings ; and in my twen tieth year was a prisoner in Erienburgh, for reading and preaching his "Rights of Man." I arrived in New York in June, 1794. A. few weeks thereafter William Carver arrived from England. He wrought a journeyman blacksmith, in the same shop' with myself, he making wrought (not cut) nails. Mr. Paine and I boarded with Carver; hence our intimacy. He, his wife and Mr. Paine were natives of the same town in England. I of ten sat with them on winter evenings, hear ing them relate their youthful pranks and deeds of riper years. Thus I learned hie history from his cradle, traced him through 'life, and followed him to his grave in 1809. We agreed on politics, and parted by natural consent on the "Age of Reason," never in anger.He married a respectable woman in the town of Lowis. She died in eleven months thereafter; a premature delivery from brutal treatment. lie then married the daughter of the collector of the port-of Low is : after three years she obtained a „divorce for like treatment. In 1773, while he held an office in the custom house. (given him by his fatherin-in-law,) he was detected in ta king bribes from smugglers, and fled to America. He was appointed Secretary to the Secret Committee of the House of Congress, and took the oath of office not!to divulge their secrets. He broke his oath by publishing in the Philadelphia Bulletin the project of a secret mission to the court of France by Silas Dean. He was summon ed before Congress, acknowledged himself the author, and was dismissed with disgrace. [See the Journal of Congress of 1794 or 5.] Ills treachery occasioned much trouble to Congress, and in the court of Louis XVI, and nearly frustrated the earning of Gen. La fayette, with the French fleet and army. Mr. Paine now went to Franca and was chosen a member of the first Convention.— For a time he helped Robespierre to establish the freedom of the press, the liberty of speech and the rights of conscience, by means of the guillotine. Robespierre quarrelled with Mr. Paine ; he was marked for the guillotine, and escaped by a miracle. Mr. Jefferson sent a frigate to bring home Mr Paine from the hands of his enemies. He arrived in the spring of 1802. I spoke with him in the City Hotel, a few hours after his arrival. He found letters urging him on to Washington. A. feast was got ready, and those of like thinking were invited. Paine entered late, his face unwashed, his face unshorn, and reeling like a drunken man. A look of consternation shone forth from every face, mirth ceased ; one by one they went out, leaving Paine on his chair fast asleep. Next day he received letters and instructions to return to New York. When Aaron Burr came back from Europe, whither he had fled after his duel with Hamilton, he kept his law office in Nassau street, near my seed store. From him I obtained the ac count as above stated. Mr. Paine was absent eight or ten days. Meantime the waiters spread abroad the fame of his intemperate, slovenly and filthy hab its. The City Hotel and every decent house refused to board him. In this dilemma Wm. Carver took him in. Mr. Paine was a man of strong mind, and having seen the gutters of Paris flooded with blood, his company was very interesting when snot under the influenCe of brandy. He told me that when Louis XIV was comiemn ed by the Convention to suffer death, each member on voting was requested to state his reasons. When it came to Mr. Paine, he voted against his death. "I think, gentle men," said Mr. Paine, "we are not making war on the person of the king, as a mar. We are contending for principle. Unfortu nately for Louis, he was bout a king; he could not help it. Let us banish him to America, there he can do NO harm. Let us spare his life and give him a sum of money to live on." I think this is the bright "spot in Paine's history. In consequence of his very intemperate habits, he was shun ned by the respectable portion of his friends, many months before his death. He asked permission from the Trustees of the Society of Friends, to have his bones laid in their burying ground ; they refused. He was much hurt by their refusal. His father was a member of the society of friends in -Eng land. Paine died of delirium tremens. Mis last words were, "Lord Jesus, help." He was buried on his own farm, near New York. Carver, his warm friend and admirer, assured me that Mr. Paine drank two gallons, of brandy per week, during the last three months of his life. T. A. Emmet, one of his executors, told me, when Mr. - Paine's af fairs were all settled, a balance of $4OO re mained for his relations in England. CONSUMPTION or GoLn.--lt has been as certained that in Birmingham, England, not less than one thousand ounces of fine gold are used weekly, equivalent to some $900,000 annually; and that the consumption of gold leif in eight manufacturing towns to 584 oun ces weekly. gur gilding metals by the elec trotype and the water gliding processes not less than 10,01)0 ounces of gold are required annually. A recent English writer states the consumption of gold and silver at Paris at over 18 ; 000,000 of francs. At the present time the conumption of fine gold and silver in Europe and the United States is estimated at 500,000,000 annually. A VENERABLE CLERGYNAN.—The Tennes see Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, met at Nashville on the 10th. In addressing the candidates for the ministry, the Rev. Joshua Soule, the senior Bishop, said, that he had been fifty-six years in the ministry.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers