1
ISpISOII
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE COHSTITCTIOJl THB TJXION A'D THE EXFORCEMEST OF THE LAW8.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXVIII.
MIFFLIN1WN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., AUGUST 19, 1874.
NO. 33.
I'oetry.
CHAK;r. OF THE COTRT
UKiu.tni:.
Ilaif a yard half a rani
Half a yard onward.
Throuyli the first crunh-room,
l'rtSHod the Four Hundred.
Forward the Fair Krigade !
On to the Throne, they said :
(in to the Presence Koom,
Crushed the Four Hundred '.
IT.
Forward, the Fair brigade !
Was there a girl dixmared ?
LVd though the chaperon knew
Some one bad blundered.
Theirs not to make complaint.
Theirs not to e:uk or faiut.
Tin irs but words iMiuot tKuut.
Half the discomfiture
of the Four Hundred.
III.
Crowds on the n-htof them.
rowds on the left of them.
Crowds all in front of them,
Stumbled and blundered ;
On through the courtier-lined
RooniH uiost tremendous grind !
Into the Presence-room,
Leaving their friends behind.
Parsed the Four Hundred.
IV.
Flushed all their faces fair.
Flashed all their jewels rare,
Scratched ail their shoulders bara.
Thrusting each other while
Outmders wondered :
Into the Presence-room,
Taking their turn, they come
Some looking very glum
O'er trains sore-undered
Kiss hand, and outwards back.
Fagged, the Four Hundred !
V,
Crowds to the light of them.
Crowds on the left of them.
Crowds all in front cf them.
Stumbled and blundered
Pack through more courtier-lined
Kooms O. tremendous grind!
J) Vi'n''j t'airity pined
For ne or cnp o" tea;
No sofas horse-hair lined.
Not a chair or settee.
Poor dear Four Hundred !
Tt
Mothers to rage gave Tent,
Husbands for Broughams sent,
Yt'hile at mismanagement
ISjth sorely wondered.
Not till the sun had set.
Not till the lamps were lit.
Home from the Drawing-room
Cot the Four Hundred.
rlixcellany
An Fait Indian Paper Cutler. !
I
There is an Eastern air about the fol-
lowing story, but it is not at all an im
probable tale :
MaDy years ago an Indian Rajah, who
was a great admirer tit Lis English
masters, and who had even learned the
language after a fashion, frequently
visited the Viceroy of Calcutta. On
one occasion lie noticed a copy of the
J-Ulaiburg li'iUic on the Viceroy's
table, and borrowed it.
Sjme time after he returned it; and,
npon the Viceroy's inquiry whether he
found anything interesting in it he re
plied : "Oh ! yes, many beautiful
things; bnt also many disconnected ar
ticles." "How so ?' said the Viceaoy.
"See here," said the Kijah. "This be
gins with 'Hunting the Orang-outang,"
does it not ? And now turn over the
page, and here yon have the 'History of
Mary Stuart.'" The Vicery laughed.
The book was uncut, and his vassal
had read it through without discover- j
mi? it. He therefore took from his
table an ivory paper-cutter, with a
beautifully carved handle, and ex-1
plained its use to the lwjah, who was
much pleased, but could not help won
dering how they contrived to print the
inside of the leaves before they were
cut open. This also was explained, and
the lUjah departed, carrying with him
the paper-cutter which the Viceroy had
given him.
About a year after, when the matter
was almost forgotten, the Viceroy saw
from his window a gallant troop enter
ing the court, in the center of which
was the Rajah, mounted on a young
elephant. As soon as the latter per
ceived the Viceroy, he cried ; "Do you
happen to have an uncnt number of the
Ediuburg Ji'cvifif t If so, please toss
it to me." The Viceroy threw out the
book, which was caught by the elephant
and placed between his tusks, which,
to his surprise, the Viceroy saw had
Lad been turned into pa)er-cutters,
even to the carved handles. In a mo
ment the intelligent beast cut open the
leaves and then handed the book to the
Viceroy. The Rnjah dismounted, and,
pointing to the elephant, said to the
Viceroy : "He is yours. I return to
you your paper-cutter alive."
Relations
of Animals
1'lant.
and
The animal takes from the air ox
vgen, and turns if ' to carbonic acid;
the plant takes f "Jbonio acid, and
turns it back int. ,en, which has
thus discharged Ynwrreat office of car
rying carbon from the bodies of ani
mals, and transferring it to the systems
of plants. In what an interesting re
lation do the two kingdoms, the ani
mal aud the vegetable, thus stand to
one another, not alone as respects the
air in maintaining its constitution uni
form by a mutual eutagonization, but
also as respects their own structures 1
The elements of which plants are
formed have all been derived from the
pre-existing parts of animals; and the
elements of which animals consist, from
the pre-existing parts of plants. To
tha classical scholar, what a beautiful
commentary on the fictitious stories of
autiquity are these modern discoveries!
He calls to mind the metamorphoses
that Ovid describes; the bore, perhaps,
of Lis school boy life, the elegant
amusement of his latter years. He re
members how Daphne was turned into
a laurel, and Adonis into a flower; the
musical stanz is are no longer an empty
sound, they are descriptive histories.
The thing he has read of is actually so.
These transformations.instead of being
imaginary exceptions, are the common
lot of life in this world. There grows
not now a leaf that is not formed from
the parts of animals that are dead;
there lives not a solitary animal being
which has not derived its constituent
elements from plants. Popular Sci
ence Monthly.
A new way of killing alligators has
been discovered in Louisiana. A two
ounce can of nitro glycerine, with
lighted fuse, is put inside of a chicken,
the latter tossed to the alligator, and
in a few minutes an explosion ensues
and the carcass of the reptile float
gently oa the waters.
MATCH 3IAKEBS.
In his "Social Photographs" in the
last number of A ppleton'i Journal thug
writes Junius Henri Browne of a very
numerous class ia the society of the
day :
Marriage, as at present managed, is
bo mucn oi an experiment that the
person undertaking to bring it about
necessarily assume great responsibility.
Sentimentalists like to talk of the
matches made in heaven. Many of
these confronting as on earth are so ill
made as to reflect little credit on the
place of their supposititious origin.
Heaven, it is to be suspected, is a false
ascription for what, in most cases, is
merely human and very fallible agency.
Men and women, even when left to
themselves, have little difficulty in per
petrating serious conjugal blunders.
For these they should have themselves
alone to blame. If they fail of discreet
election, the cause of failure should be
sought within ; and to be honestly so
sought, they must direct their own
destiny.
How few there are who do, however !
One wonld think, since marriage chiefly,
if not exclusively, concerns the persons
entering into it, that they would be
permitted to exercise their own judg
ment in such regard. But they are not.
As a rule, all their relatives, friends
and ordinary acquaintances, are more
active, more outwardly interested, than
the contracting parties. This activity
and interest, though often commend
able, are oftener impertinent and prag
matic. Relatives and friends cannot
well be indifferent to so momentous
matter as the nuptials of those they
esteem and cherish ; but ordinary ac
quaintances have no call for the solici
tude they affect wherefore, perhaps,
they affect so much.
Certain minds, especially feminine
ones, seem to have a constitutional be
lief that the majority of men and women
are unable to marry properly without
their aid. They are constantly acting
on this belief, appointing themselves
emissaries of Juno, ministers of Hymen.
Benevolence may prompt them to this
at first, though by indulgence a habit
is fixed, and the habit ultimately be
comes a passion. These are profes
sional match makers. They never see
I a bachelor or maiden, a widower or
j widow, without feeling an nrgent desire
j to change his or her celibate condition, j
i Neither he nor she. in their opinion. :
ought to be consulted about the change.
Few mortals thus they reason know
what is best for them ; such knowledge
is geuerauy reserveu ior outsiders,
j whose discernment should be clear be-
i cause disconnected with the sympathies
, or affections. They have a vague
: apprehension, in opposition to Malthus,
i auu lue aemonsiraiea iacis, mat ine
planet will cease to be peopled, nnless
! - ' . " a- ti A a j
ckum; ui prupuguiiuu. alio urat UlUJ
of both sexes is, as they conceive, to
Ka ,-n,l w lw,
K. fla ; i.n
; cannot make them see that they are
i liable to error ; that many things are
needful to matrimony ; that the wisest
, course is to let the delicate question
arrange and answer itself.
I The masculine match maker is rare
yet he exists. He never has the tact.
energy, perseverance and ingenuity of
his feminine fellow. He conhnes him
self mostly to the practical and his own
sex ; deals largely in his counsels with
facts and figures, and adroitly, per
chance unconsciously, misrepresents
them. He is invariably a husband and
he never tires of making this statement
as if there were nothing else than his
word to show for it. Any objections
which may be offered he is ready to
overcome. If a bachelor put forward
poverty, he is told, in the face of the
plainest arithmetic, that two can live
as cheaply as one ; no reference being
made to the corollary that one and one
in conjugal circumstances commonly
make three, four, five or six. Having
been for some time a spouse, he is pre
sumed to know of what he speaks ;
nevertheless, he speaks untruth. Only
in ceftain conditions, rather exceptional
than otherwise, can one person subsist
for the same price as two. In these
days matrimony is likely to more than
double expenses. Howbeit, when the
exact contrary is affirmed by those who
have had experience, it is not strange if
the falehood is credited. If the bache
lor should say that he is unacquainted
with anybody whom he wants to wed,
the matchmaker immediately proposes
to introduce him to a score of girls, eo
full of physical, mental, and sooial per
fections that they might be thought to
have had their birth in a contempora
neous romance.
. There is Clara, for example. She is
a charming creature, abounding in
sweetness and beauty as a rose itself.
She has no money, to be sure ; but she
is t etter than a fortune to any man.
Jane is not so lovely in person as she
might be, albeit she is a pattern for her
sex, modest, discreet, generous, high
minded. Entirely domestic, she would
render the humblest home happy ;
would consecrate herself to wifely du
ties. Kate Is simply magnificent, a trifle
forward, mayhap, because she has been
so much flattered and petted, but loyal
and loving at heart, replete with superb
possibilities. She is the kind of woman
whose affection, once fixed, knows no
shadow of turning, who loves once and
forever.
In this sort of recommendation, how
ever, the masculine match maker is not
an adept. He bestows on it little in
sistence, being conscious that it is an
intrenchment on the feminine domain.
As has been said, facts and figures, or a
misrepresentation of them, are bis spe
ciality, and he never feels quiet secure
while dealing with sentiment. He is
skilled in spreading a mist over the in
evitable, and in disposing of nn welcome
particulars by pleasant generalization.
What he is ignorant of he asserts with
dogmatism ; what he cannot even guess
at he predicts with complacent rash
ness, as befits the foolhardy mortal who
advises marriage on abstract principles.
The true and temperamental match
maker is feminine. She seldom ban
gles, seldom gets put into quandaries
from which she is nnable to extricate
herself. She instinctively avoids facts,
or their semblance, for ahe feels she is
not quite at home with them. Sensi
bility and idealisation are her forte.
Like an eipert captain, she frequently
succeeds by masking her designs;
brings that to pass which she appears
to oppose. Secretly she selects the
twain she intends for one another;
brings them together as if by accident ;
leaves them alone with deep deep pre
meditation ; comes and goes out at ne
right moment; j
circumstances ; prepares surprises ,
arranirea emotional
OCnOUmcni: OO
twmMtpil ia aha with the
joining them in wedlock that she takes
no time to consider whether they are
mutually adapted or not. Once united,
she imagines they will adjust themselves
by some unknown law that create
harmony from disharmony, converts
ansipathy into sympathy. But the
question of their agreement, of their
happiness, is remote, altogether sec
ondary, in her opinion. She fancies
she is responsible for nothing except
their marriage. Having achieved that,
her task is discharged : Fate must pro
vide the rest The addition of another
pair to the bead roll of matrimony is
glorious triumph, always to be
counted to her advantage.
Why it should be, what merit there
is in hymenal meddlesomeness, prece
dent or logio would be puzzled to show.
Still, such is her belief, and the belief
is ineradicable. She fancies she has a
vocation to slip the matrimonial noose
about the necks of her acquaintances,
and she is not content unless she can
do so periodically. When she hears
that any body has been married without
her manipulation or manoeuvring, she
feels hurt, wronged in some mysterious
wsy, and resolves to make amends for
her loss by never permitting the slight
est opportunity to slip thereafter.
The feminne match maker has no
regular method ; she varies her process
according to the emergency. To keep
her connubial motive concealed, often
requires more delicacy and ingenuity
than she can master. Moreover, it is
prone to imperil the prosperity of her
issues ; she must have recourse, there
fore, to direct management. After pnt-
ting two persona into nuptial nomina
tion, and arranging their convention,
she confesses with them apart ; sounds
them for their thoughts, feelings and
opinions, respecting one another.
She mentions to Mr. Jones, as if
casually, that Miss Brown is very
amiable and engaging ; so simple and
unobtrusive, too, in mind and manner.
that one must know her intimately to
appreciate her. She cannot avoid no
ticing that the young lady has been
much impressed by him ; that she
evinces a decided partiality for his
company, which he should deem com
plimentary. for her taste and discrimi-
nation have always been subjects of
remark. In the society of Suss Brown
sue does not hesitate to praise Mr.
Jones ; to intimate that he has talked
of the lady incessantly since last they
met. and that be is manifestly smitten.
Thus are the first seeds sown and
they rapidly germinate under the foe
tering care of a few weeks, or months
at farthest, she has brought the couple
to believe, by cunningly administering
to the vanity of each, that they are
genuinely in love with one another.
She ought to be aware that, soon after
they are united, they will be likely to
discover their mistake, and jar and
clash until divorce or death relieves
: them. But what of that ? Is is not
one more marriage ? Is it not another
chaplet laid upon the brow of the social
: intriguer ?
j had ghe ooserved Mr. Mark.
I well Ana JJ.1B8 baowmuca in conrerru.-
I tion, than she determined to wed them.
; if possible. Her natural insight may
tell her they are antipodes ; that they
can no more mingle than oil and water.
But, then, if she should have the good
luck to hide this fact from both until
they have taken the desperate step.
what a victory for her ! The very diffi
culty of the enterprise whets her ardor.
Discharging the thought of what they
must suffer, she remembers only what
satisfaction she shall enjoy. While they
are waging domestic wars, she is intent
on new triumphs new slaughters of
individual peace, new creations of the
bitterest disappointments, new blastings
of sacred expectations.
The match maker would seem to be
malignant, at least criminally heedless
of the happiness of her neighbors. She
is not necessarily either one or the
other ; she is, generally, but unmindful
of the danger and difficulty of her self-
appointed work, one fails to compre
hend hnman nature ; has no suspicion
of the requirements of the individual.
Because marriage often brings comfort.
mutual contentment, the best that life
has to offer, she thinks, without think
ing, that it always does so, irrespective
of the conditions under which it is con
tracted. Experience teaches her noth
ing. If her own nuptial experiment
has been unfortunate, she imagines
another will be fortunate. If she has
drawn a prize in her connubial lottery,
she fondly believes there are scarcely
any blanks. She is conscientiously
wrong -minded. By trying to do good,
she does incalculable harm. By seek
ing to sow the wheat of happiness, she
sows the tares of misery, and she re
mains in ignorance in that she gathers
not the harvest. Let her bear this in
memory : If a man and woman cannot
discover in one another sufficient rea
sons for marriage, it is not probable
that a third person can make the dis
covery they should make for themselves.
Let those who fail to detect sufficient
cause for conjunction remain apart, or
tarry for a later oyportunity !
If professional match makers could
see half of the wretchedness they have
engendered by misdirected zeal, they
onld be overwhelmed with regret.
suffused with repentance. They would
take no further risks in the peace of
others they would be humbly thank
ful if they had themselves escaped the
biting woe of a bad selection. Every
man should do bis own marrying, as he
must do his own dying. The difference
between the two often is, that in death
his troubles end ; in marriage they
have only begun.
Facta.
Some men who pride themselves on
their common sense and whenever a
roan boasts mnch about that, it may be
assumed that lie has very little sense,
either common or uncommon will
maintain that all knowledge consists of
facts, that everything else is mere talk
and theory, and that nothing has any
value except facts. Those who speak
so much of the value of facts may un
derstand the meaning of facts;but they
evidently do not understand the mean
ing of value. For, the value of a thing
is not a property residing in that thing,
nor is it a component; but it is simply
its relation to some other thing. We
say, for instance, that a gold dollar has
a certain value; but the value does not
reside in the coin. If it does, where is
it f Our sense cannot grasp value. We
cannot see value, nor hear it, nor feel
it, nor taste it, nor smell it. The value
consists solely in the relation which the
dollar price bears to something else,
just so in regard to facts. Facts, as
facts, have no sort of value, but are
simply a mass of idle lumber The
value of a fact is not an element or a
constituent of that fact, but is its rela
tion to the total stock of our know
ledge, either present or prospective.
Facts, therefore, have merely a poten
tial and, as it were, subsequent value,
and the only advantage or possessing
them ia the Doflsibilitv of drawing con-
ri's"mgto"the ideahe princiPTerthe
M7 tb(.mf 0nr know-
J -t fanta lint nf
the relations which facts and ideas
bear to themselves and to each other;
and real knowledge consists not in an
an acquaintance with facts, which only
makes a pedant,but in the use of facta,
which makes a philosopher.
The Strngtle for Wealth.
No one can settle down in a European
city or village for a month, aod observe
the laboring classes, without noticing
a great amerence between their asp
rations, ambitions and habits, and
those of corresponding classes in this
country. He may see great poverty ia
a continental town, and men and wo
men laboring severely and faring mean
ly, and a Hopeless gap existing between
classes; he may see the poor virtually
the slaves of the rich; but he will wit
ness a measure of contentment and a
daily participation in humble pleasure
to which his eyes have been strangers
at home. There is a sad side to this
pleasant picture. Much of the appar
ent contentment and enjoyment un
doubtedly come from the hoplessness
oi tne struggle lor anything better. An
impassable gulf exists between them
and the educated and aristocratic
classes a gulf which they have recog
nized from their birth; and, having re
cognized this, they nave recognized
tneir own limitations, and adapted
themselves to them. Seeing just what
they can do and cannot do, they very
rationally unaertaae to eet out of me
just what their condition renders at
tainable. There is no far-off. crowninsr
gooa ior tnem to aim at, so they try to
get what they can on the way. They
make much of fete-days, and social
gatherings, and music, and do what
they can to sweeten their daily toil,
which they know must be continued
.... . . . "
while the power to labor lasts.
In America it is very different A
humble backwoodsman sits in the pres
idential chair, or did sit there but re
cently; a tailor takes the Highest hon
ors of the nation; a canal-driver be
comes a powoi.'ul millionare;a humble
derk grows into a merchant nrince.
absorbing the labor and supplying the
wants of tens of thousands. In city,
State and national politics, hundreds
and thousands may be counted of those
who, by enterprise and self-culture,
and self-assertion, have raised them
selves from the humblest positions to
influence and place. There is no im
passible gulf between the low and the
high. Every man holds the ballot, and,
therefore, every man is a person of po
litical power and importance. The
ways of business enterprise are many,
and the rewards of success are munifi
cent. Not a year.nor, indeed, a month,
passes by that does not illustrate the
comparative ease with which poor men
win wealth or acquire power.
The consequence is that all but the
wholly brutal are after some great good
that lies beyond their years of toil
The European expects always to be a
tenant; the American intends before he
dies to own the house he lives in. If
city prices forbid this, he goes to the
suburbs for his home. The European
knows that life and labor are cheap.and
that he cannot hope to win by them the
wealth which will realize for him the
dream of future ease; the American
finds his labor dear, and its rewards
comparatively bountiful, so that his
dream of wealth is a rational one. He,
therefore, denies himself, works early
and late, and bends his energies, and
directs those of his family into profit
able channels, all for the great good
that beckons him on from the far-off I
golden future
The typical American never lives in
the present. If he indulgas in a recre
ation, it is purely for health's sake, and
at long intervals, or in great emergen
cies, ne aoes not waste money on
pleasure, and does not approve of those
who do so. He lives in a constant fe
ver of hope and expectation, or grows
sour with nope deferred or blank dis
appointment. Out of it all grows the
worship of wealth and that demoraliza
tion which results in unscrupulousness
concerning the methods of its acquire
ment, so America presents the anom
aly of a laboring class with unprece
dented prosperity and privileges, and
unexampled discontent and discom
fort.
There is surely something better than
this. There is something better than
a life-long sacrifice of content and en-
jopment for a passible wealth, which.
however, may never be acquired, and
which has not the power, when won, to
yield its holder the boon which he ex
pects to purchase. To withhold from
the frugal wife the gown she desires, to
deny her the journey which wonld do
so much to break up the monotony of
her home-life, to rear children in mean
ways, to shut away from the family life
a thousand social pleasures, to relin
quish all amusements that have a cost
attached to them, for wealth which
may or may not come when the family
life is broken up forever surely this is
neither sound enterprise nor wise
economy. We would not have the
American laborer, farmer and me
chanic become improvident, but we
would very much like to see them hap
pier than they are, by resort to the
daily social enjoyments which are al
ways ready to their hand. Nature is
strong in the young, and they will have
society and play of some sort. It should
remain strong in the old, and does re
remain strong in them, until it is ex
pelled by the absorbing and subordi
nating passion for gain. Something
of the Old World fondness for play,
and daily or weekly indulgence in it
should become habitual among our
workers. Toil would be sweeter if
there were a reward at the end of it;
work would be gentler when used as a
means for securing a pleasure which
stands closer than an old age of ease;
character would be softer and richer
and more childlike, when acquired
among genial, everyday delights. The
all-subordinating strife for wealth, car
ried on with fearful struggles and con
stant self-denials, makes us petty, irri
table and hard. When the whole
American people learn that a dollar's
worth of pure pleasure is worth more
than a dollar's worth of anything else
nnder the sun; that working is not liv
ing, but only the means by which we
win a living; tne money is good lor
nothing except for what it brings o
comfort and culture; and that we live
not in the future, but the present, they
will be a happy people happier and
better than they have been. "The
morrow shall take thought for the
things of itself." may not be an ac
cepted maxim in political economy, but
it was uttered hy the wisest being that
ever lived in the world, whose mission
it was to make men both good and
happy. Scrtbner't.
Old Paper Menej Items.
Prof. Sumner's book ia encouraging.
as showing that we are not much worse
than our ancestors, and discouraging as
showing how litttle we have learned by
experience, or how ignorant we are of
even recent history. His condensed
accounts of the continual issues of pa
per money in the North American Colo
nies should be read dy vaose wno oe
lieve in inconvertible paper. Those
who think it any advantage to buy at
low prices may be glad to learn, that
whan ha Rritiah Parliament paid to
Massachusetts its share of Louisburg,
.v.;h it wanantnaA from th Cniouea
(amounting to 138,619, and this
amount was sent out in coin, used to
cancel the outstanding paper, then
worth about nine per cent), while, of
course, a "panic and "shock were ex
pected, tne only "shock fell on
"Rhode Island and New Hampshire,
who found their trade transferred to
the 'silver colony,' and their paper
suddenly and Heartily depreciated. The
west India trade of Massachusetts had
been largely done through Newport. It
was now transferred to Salem and Bos
ton. In 1692, in Connecticut "there
were four prices 'pay,' "pay as money,'
money and 'trusting.' 'Trusting was
an enhanced price, according to time.
'Pay' was barter at government rates.
'Money' was Spanish or New England
coin, also wampum for change. 'Pay
as money' was barter currency at one
tnird less man government rates. A
six-penny knife cost twelvepence in
P7t eightpence in pay as money, and
sixpence in coin.
One of the new socialist devices for
cheap money is as old as the "banks,"
i. e., as understood about 1700, "a
batch of paper money issued either bv
the government or a corporation."
ine bills for one of these "banks ' in
Pennsylvania were printed by Frank
lin, who says. "It was a very profitable
job.and a great help to me;" but though
issuea at nve per cent on mortgage of
land in each county, according to tax
able assessment, the result of the
schem shows that Franklin was the
only one who fairly profited by the
wretched device.
The issue of bills to "make business
brisk." and attempts to "grow up" to
exoessive issues, will be found not to
be new in our times.
With the Revolutionary War. paper
money flowed afresh, and in 1780 was
worth two cents on the dollar: and
some who had faith in paper promises
left basketsfull of it to their children.
Col. Pickering insisted that Congress
should authorize contracts to be made
by him as quartermaster-generaL pay
able in specie, and was thns enabled to
obtain supplies for the army. "It
ought to be noticed," says Prof. Sum
ner, "mat this continental paper was
vaunted as 'the safest possible cur
rency,' which "nobody could take
away'(L e., export)
"In 1814 all the banks, save the New
England banks suspended. Specie
went to New England because there
was a sound currency and low prices
there, and went away from the Middle
and Southern States because displaced
by redundant paper and consequent
high prices." Some contended that
silver had risen, and that the paper
dollar was an ideal unit
Interesting and instructive accounts
follow, of the banks, and the currency
up to the present time. The second
part of the book contains an account of
the English Bank Restriction; and the
Appendix contains the justly celebrated
"Bullion Report," made by the Select
Committee to the House of Commons
in 1810. Old and Acir.
Camp 4'nre lor uysprpsia.
Quite as sure is the relief from dys
peptic troubles; for although the diet
of (-.imps would be at home, for the
dyspeptic, but a mode of tardy suicide,
the steady, bin, not too severe, exer
cise aud the constant exposure rarely
leave a man after a few days much
fault to lind with the most evil dis
posed stomach. Among our lakes and
streams the bill of fare of the camp is
by no means a bad one, but it would
be a slicx-kiiijT one at home. There is
always hah fried, or broiled if you are
wise, or perhaps, if you have a taste for
delicacies and want the trout at its
liest, you will cook it in paper, when it
is a thing to remeniler. Birds, es
pecially ducks, are rarely lacking, and
in the Adiroudacks venison is abund
ant enough. Then it is easy to carry
cauned ami dried vegetables, Wans,
potatoes, biscuits for bread, condensed
milk and the inevitable pork. If I
wauted a comparative test for the ab
sence of dyspepsia, I should say that
when a man can relish a bit of well
dried, crisji pork on the top of a stew
of duvks, aud can wind np with a big
onion eaten raw with salt, he might be
regarded as tolerably competent to
comiiete with the proverbial ostrich. I
think it was that good fisherman, the
late Dr. Itethmie, who said that a good
part of the value of wood life was in
the fact that you crave onions and can
eat them. In fact, there is always a
row in camp when the onions
give out, and the new men often won
der at starting why an old woodsman
is so very particular shout having
plenty of onions; but in the wilderness
and in armies ouions are at a premium.
I remeiulier once, in paddling along
the shores of a lakein Maine, we espied
a log cabin in a rough clearing, and,
pulling the canoes up,sct off to see who
was about, with that odd craving for
new faces which haunts men after a
few days of lonely wood life. We
found four children with measles, the
mother recovering from pnenmooia,
the father down with a lively chill im
ported from Illinois, and the grand
father with a dislocated nngcr. we
soon put the last right, and then,draw
ing water cool from the spring, with a
few lemons and white sugar, we made
them a drink which called down npon
us unnumbered blessings. Next my
little medicine case came into use for
the first time in several summers; and
so by and bv. leaving them our remain
ing lemons may I never do a deed of
greater self-denial! we went away.
As we were shoving off the old man
came down the hill and stopped us
guessed, as we were doctors we ought
to be paid. "Well," he said, "you done
us a heap of good, and we was kind of
mournaome before you come." 1 felt
that the new word mourn some was
worth many fees, and so guessed in re
ply that we wouldn't take anything.
But maybe you d nave tins," lie
urged, with an air of triumph. "Them's
what no man will refuse;" and so say
ing he threw into the canoe a rope of
somewhat ancient onions. 1 accepted
the honorarium, and we paddled away
down the lake. Dr. Wier Mitchell.
Animals and Fire-arms.
That crows and many other species of
birds have little fear of man when he
is unarmed is a familiar fact, and sug
gests that they fear him chiefly because
of the weapons he carries. In Scotland,
where shooting was prohibited, on Sun
day, crows aud rooks were gentle, and
fed around buildings witbont concern.
Singularly enough the same thing was
observed of animals by Dr. Tristram
when traveling in the wilderness of
Moab, where the sound of a gnu is
quite rare. He says: "We were struck
with the sagacity which all the wild
nimals showed in the matter of fire-
i rma, little familiar as they can be with
tl em here. As it was Sunday, we stroll
ed or sat down among the ruins without
our fowling-pieces, and were conse
quently objects of indifference. A fine
fox sat and looked at us a dozen times
among the stone heaps, and just walked
away, keeping almost within gunshot
all the afternoon. The Sakkr falcon sat
calmly on his favorite perch, and allow
ed us to reconnoitre him on Sunday,
while the eagle, owls, sand-grouse, and
partridge, showed a
partridge, showed a similar contempt
for unarmed Europeans." Popular
Science Monthly Tor Aumm.
Ilew Figs are Dried Im Smyrna.
At a meeting of the Fruit Growers'
Association of the Galf States, Mr.
Geo. A. Faunce gave a description of
the mode of preparing figs at Smyrna,
Turkey, which may be the means of en
lightening many persons why they hsve
failed in making a merchantable article
of our native fig.
Mr. Faunce describes the soil in the
neighborhood of Smyrna as being of
volcanie origin, the climate mnch cold
er than ours, and surrounded by high
mountains covered with snow.
Of the fig there are three varieties
generally grown there; one a large pur
ple fig, much like those seen in the
neighborhood of New Orleans; a large
yellow, and a smaller kind which is not
much thought of and is never shipped.
The trees average the size generally
seen in our gardens. The fruit is very
dry and rather insipid, and when fresh
is not used by the natives.
The crop ripens about the 28th of
August, and they are shook from the
trees and thrown on the ground in the
sun where they are allowed to remain
a few hours; they are then packed in
hampers and brought on the backs of
mules to the baaaar or market and
thrown into nilea twelvn or fifteen feet I
classes by women and children, and
na'tfiil wit linn t fnrthep nrenaratinn in-
to ooies or cartoons.
Figs are generally shipped on sailing
vessels, the hold of which is kept well
ventilated by windsails and the hatches
kept open. There is also a small white
worm or maggot which bores a noie in
the bottom end of every flg; these
worms are in such abundance that they
crawl over the vessel and drop into
everything. Our informant has often
seen the skippers trying to clean the
stem of his pipe which was full of the
vermin.
When the fruit arrives at its destina-
tion, if it is dry and covered with grape
sugar, it is considered in good order; if
dark and of a shining appearance, it is
in process of heat and decay.
'
Beneflt of Laagfeter.
. . , , . ,
It is said by good authority that there
is not the remotest corner or little inlet
of the minute blood vessels of the hu
tha. Kit-
man body that does not feel some
wavelet from the convulsions occa
sioned by good hearty laughter, and
also that the "central man." or lite
principle, is shaken to its innermost
uepths, sending new tides of life and
strength to the surface, and thus ma
terially teuding to insure good health
to the persons who indulge therein.
The blood moves more rapidly prob
ably caused by some chemical or elec
tric modification occasioned by the con
vulsion and conveys a different im
pression to all the organs of the body
as it visits them on that particular
mystic journey, when the man is laugh
ing, from what it dors at other times.
t or this reason every good hearty
-7 , . ! , r
lauga in wuicn a person inuuiges ieuu? .
K " ""b"
vital forces. We doubt not that the j
tin, wrill rnm irl.cn nhtrai.-ima n
cetling more importance than they now
do to the influence of the mind upon
the vital forces of the body will pre-
scribe to the torpid aud melancholy pa-
tient a certain number of hearty peals ;
of laughter, to be undergone at stated .
periods, and believe that they will, in
so doing, find the best and most effec
tive method of producing the required
effect upon the patient. Our advice to
all is, indulge in good, hearty, soulful
laughter, when the opportunity tillers,
ami, if you do not derive material bene
fit therefrom, charge us with uttering
false principles of materia medica.
Drinking la the Last Century.
Oar ancestors could without any diffi
culty find a place to wet their whistles.
The grand jury of Philadelphia declared
in 1714 that of all the houses in the
city nearly one in every ten sold drink.
John Adams, referring to PownaU's
remark about every other house being
a tavern, says that country towns within
his observation had at least a dozen
taverns and retailers of intoxicating
liquors. The keepers of these places
had a great influence at elections, a fact
he regrets. One of the Bland letters,
written from Virginia in 1765, tells us
that a Mr. Bannister "has been very
much engaged, ever since the dissolu
tion of the assembly, in swilling the
planters with bumbo (rum), and I dare
say from the present prospect will be
elected a burgess." About the middle
of the century complaint was made that
Harvard undergraduates were in the
increasing habit of "frequenting taverns
and ale-houses" this was before the
college was "pleasantly and conveni
ently situated in Parker's bar-room"
and also of using wine, beer, and dis
tilled liquors in their rooms. They
shared, too, in another prevalent fault
of the time, that is, "profane cursing
and swearing. The Oalary for August.
Orlsjla af Great Jlea.
St. Andrew, apostle, was the son of a
fisherman; St. John was also the son
of a fisherman; Pope Sixtus V., was
the son of a swine-herder he was also
one; Aristotle, of a doctor; Boccacio.of
a merchant; Columbus.of a wool-comber;
John Basth, of a fisherman; Dide
rot, of a cutler; Cook, of a servant;
Hampden, of a carpenter; Talma, of a
dentist; Gesner, of a bookseller; Sal
vator Rosa, of a surveyor; Euripides.of
a fruit-woman;Virgil, of a baker; Hor
ace, of a denizen; Voltaire, of a tax
collector; Larnothe, of a hatter; Fletch
er, of a chandler: Masillon. of a turner:
1 ameriane, ot a stiepneru; uninauit, oi ;
a Knlrof Italian At a MiiHcaf MnllOftV s-if
' " r " " , . . y-v - a i. .
" """ "i V..i
maker; Sir Samuel Bowditch, of a sil
versmith; Ben Johnson, of a mason;
Shakspeare, of a butcher; Sir Thomas
Lawrence, of a custom-house officer;
Collins, of a hatter. Gray, ot a notary;
Beattie, of a laborer; Sir Edward Sug
den, of a barber; Thomas Moore, of a
swordmaken Rembrandt, of a milier,
Heniamin Franklin. of a chandler:
diual Woolsev, of a butcher; Napoleon,
of a farmer, Lincoln, of a backwoods- j
mn ,mm
irei-ailve KlaaacM.
j
Do the doctors know that half the
wives in the world die of this com-
plaint! -lie never spoKe an unsinu
word to nis wue." 1 es, out uiu ne re-
member, now and then to speak a kind
one t Did he have any sympathy for
her "bodily and mental ills I Or was he
blind and deaf to both, treating them
with that cutting indifference which in
. - .1 - i : t 1
I me-c-n' L"sV"""t .UCJ:. ""
;u ; ,u:. Tot.
young girl from the warm atmosphere
ef a loving, cheerful home, and after a ;
few weeks of devotion leave her to i
battle single-handed with new cares !
i 1 x i
and new duties, and to bear sickness
with what courage she may, and go
their ways into the tangled paths of
life, without a thought of the responsi
bilities they are shirking or the solemn
vows they have really broken. No
wonder so many happy brides ripen in
to irritable dissatisbed matrons, who
seem to have lost all real delight in
living.
Youths Column.
measuring the Baby.
W meaTOi-rd nAnam bahT
Airsm-M tb- (ittaire wail -A
luy trn-w at the thifwlioM.
AuJ the boy vu jiul aa liL
A iMyal tigt-r-ul?.
Wi h (kju of purr and of ffi'M,
And a heart of xwtiUt-d chllrc,
1 be lrariraut dew to bold.
Without the blackbird whixtlM.
High up in the old roof treii.
And to aud t ro at the wind- w
The rl roM- rucked h-r bea ;
Anil the wee pink nets of baby
Were nerer a moment stiU,
Snatching at nhine and nhadow
1 bat daucvd at the butice-sLL
Ay ! fa a darkened chamber.
Wiii- the HUhiuc shut iwit,
Th-oiufb t-ant that fLl nke bitter r-in.
We mea-mred the baby W day.
And the ittle bare feet that wera dimtl-'l
And sweet an a bu.l.hiiK roe.
Lie Hide by Hide ton-ether
lu tile huau of a loutf repoee.
Tn fmtn the dainty pill w.
White an the riM-'n dawn.
A fair face lay Hunting
W ith the lutht of hea Ten thereon :
Ana the dear little han-le like r leav. a
llropped from the rota, lay atiu.
Never to catch at the eun-tiiiue
That crept to the aurouded 8llL
We nieanred the aleepinfr baby
With nbltone whi e as -mow.
For the shimiiil roeewoo-1 canket
i hst waited him below.
And out of the darkened chamber
We went with a cinldle-ia moan :
For to the beiifht of the eiul-. aiitf'-W
Our dear little oue had growu.
! Oceek FarESDS. Tobv was a big or
j ue naa grown too oia to worn : so ne
i used to stay all the time in the barn -
yard, and had a stall under a ehed in
the warm corner.
Peep was a poor little motherless
cuicaen, wun not enongn learners on
to keep the cold off. He had to hunt
np his own victuals ; for nobody
thought of feeding him : so he used to
peck meal in Tobv's feed-box, and Toby
never refused to let him.
Sometimes Peep sat on Toby's horn ;
and, when it grew colder, he roosted
on Toby's broad, warm back. When
Toby got sleepy in the daytime, he
j would low for 1'eep to come and sit on
j his horn while he took a nap.
I By and by a little brown pig, seeing
1 how happy Toby and Peep were to-
j gether, left all his kinsfolk, and went
I to live in the shed with them. Piggy
air.t in ti.a .i. k. ov.k.'. .1.1..'.
' n.i m,, ru.. i.i . i.i ii -i,'
" -
ever he was fed. till Teen and I'iggv
came to eat with him.
At last the butcher came and took
Toby a ay; and poor Peep and Piggy
were left to mourn for their dear old
friend. But they loved each other all
the better, and slept side by side in the ,
BtT-
henever yon saw one, you were ,
sure to see the other. If Peep found :
any thing to eat, he was sure to divide
it with Piggy ; and, though both were
homelv fellows, it was a pretty sight to 1
see them together. j
, .
!
J1A5SE&S. .uanners are more im-1
iiuiiiiui tuau uiuurr. a uiT wuu is
nte and pleasant in his manners wiU
fc Mend and will not make
emie, Uood behavior is essential to
prosperity. A boy feels well when he
Joes well. If you wish to make every-
body pleasant about yon, and gain ,
friends wherever yon go, cultivate good j
manners. Many" boys have pleasant j
manners in company and ugly manners !
for home.
We visited a small railroad town not
long since and were met at the depot ;
hv a litMu 1 11 . r .1 f olwi.it .Wan st '
years, who entertained and cared for
us, in the absence of his father, with as
mnch polite attention and thoughtful
care as the most cultivated gentleman
could have done. We said to his mother
before we left her home :
"You are greatly blessed in your son ;
he is so attentive and obliging."
"Yes," she said, "I can always de
pend on Charley when his father is
absent. He is a great help and com
fort to me."
She said this as if it did her heart
good to acknowledge the cleverness of
her son.
The best manners cost so little, and
are worth so mnch, that every b y cau
have them.
The Steeples. When we look at the
steeples of a city piercing the blue bky
we should ever regard them as so many
friendly beacons calmly aud gratly di
recting us to look up above mere mate
rial things to the calm, peaceful serenity
of heaveu, of which the bright firma
ment is a symbol. When the dark
clouds of adversity hang around us like
a funeral pall aud their thunders would
seem to rend our very souls, let us look
up to the friendly Eteeple which points
to God's bright sun and heaven's smiles
beyond the clou is, remembering :
- Tr'iTiMe" will not last foeerer :
Ihedjrk.-st day wi.lrsay- rri 1 1 m 1
, . . . . , The miserable selfishness of some
nave friends been torn from us hose fellows U enough to make a man
bright smiles no longer cheer us as we ashamed of his sort. So mnch as they
pass on the rugged pathway of Lie ? do expect when tLey re selecting
lhen let us look at the friendly steeple j ; Fooi down in riorida, for in
spanned by the bright bow of promise, ; Btance ! He advertises for a wife, and
and promoting us to the Eden of rest- I ne jet9 the pnbljo know tnat he maBt
the pilgrims home. Let us learn be none of your "common doin's." Im
lesson from the friendly steeple "True prjmis. she must have a cow. Also a
greatness consists in moral grandeur. ! gooll feather bed with comfortable
That our thoughts should be elevated j ijnen. Likewise $500 in good, genu
andpure. Ihiit the tendency of our ; ine Greenbacks. She must comprehend
aspirations be heavenward, and i-hat we
ata to nhnvA all that i low and '
are to rise above all that is low and
grovelling and aspire to that pnrity
whose birthplace is God's throne.
The BrsT-BoDt. Aa old red cow :
came in at the gate to eat the fresh
young grass. '"How do you do, old
cow ? Have you a calf ? Why do you '
come into our yard ? Where is your
J
home ? yoa ma eat
J
the grass, bnt do
not touch the trees.
The cow ate and ate. Then Tom's
kid Nan came to the gate, looked in, !
and at last lan in also.
"How do you do, Nan ? You, too,
may eat the grass, and no one must say '
'Go out !' " I
Then the cow spied the kid, ran up j
to her, and tried to hook her, and drive i
..Wnat m .einsh busy body, you old
cow , Trho gaTe on iVe, praTt
to come into the yard ? Suppose Mary
had run at you, and said, Go out !'
Ion should have let an eat, as you
were doing, in peace, selfish old red
cow You are Lke some girls and
ooy. hat are never willing to share!
Thb "Great Cux:k or ErBRsm." j
A Washington lecturer says that the
earth's orbit has been widening out for
20,000 yean past, and will continue to !
do so tor 20.000 years to come. It will
then begin to contract, and will con
tinue to do so for 50.000 years. The
eccentricity of Mercury has been
sieaaiiy increasing ior me ias aw.uuu
years, but has nearly attained its limit
V i . -it i :
In about 5,000 years it will begin to ! and water wheels are made or it, to
dirninish and will continue to do so for j gether with fences, ropes, furniture.
more than 100,000 years. The orbits '
of the planets must go on oscillating in
this manner as long as the laws of nature
remain unchanged, forming what a
French writer has called "great clocks
of eternity, which beat ages aa ours
beat seconds."
Varieties.
The rifleman's creed Creedmoor.
Milwaukee is now known as Chicago's
left boot.
Is the Black Hills expedition a dark
business ?
Another triumph of the female sex.
A man has made his escape from a
Georgia jail by the aid of a hair-pin.
Lawrence, Mass., is one of the few
cities that can boast of never having
had a murder within its limits since its
incorporation.
A marriage was broken np in Duluth
by the young man making an unexpec
ted call and finding the poodle dog
playing with his true love's glass eye.
When anything is forbidden to be
done, whatever tends or leads to it, ss
' the means of compassing it, is forbidden
at the same time. Latin Law Maxim.
It is not enough that we swallow
truth; we must feed upon it, as insects
do on the leaf, till the whole heart be
j colored by its qualities, and shows its
food ia every fibre.
. Smart woman "Doctor, what do you
think of women for doctors ?" Doctor
i "They are invaluable, madam, to our
profession. We derive two-thirds of
our income from them."
""g uuuu u sometimes more
1 ea8y impressed than a weak one. For
example, yon cannot so easily convince
i fool that you are a philosopher as eon-
in philosopher that you are a foot
. The son of Emir had red hair of
which he was ashamed, and wished to
dye it But his father said, "Nay, my
son, rather behave in such a manner
that all fathers should wish their sons
had red hair."
To our mind babies resemble wheat
I in many respects. Neither are good
for much till they arrive at maturity.
Both are bred in the house, and flotvrr
in the family. Both have to be cradled,
and are generally well thrathed before
they are done with.
Deaths take place, the world over, at
the rate of one every three seconds, and
births at the rate ot one every two seo
onds. There is a sense of profound
relief in the thought that every time a
man goes out of the world, a baby and
a half are coming into it.
Cicero, who was born 106 years be
fore Christ, wrote : "I consider this
world as a place which nature never
intended for my permanent abode; and
I look on my departure from it not as
ljing driven from my habitation, bnt
simply as leaving an inn."
A pet-canary having escaped into the
7arJ was ooBht bT favorite cat, but
""stead of devouring poor Dickey, puss
gently brought the bird indoors and
placed it in the hands of her mistress.
whn , atT.iar.i .n,i iK.r,,.i
to find scarcely a feather injured.
A papyrus manuscript, found in an
Egyptian tomb, has lately been trans
lated by a scholar of Heidelberg, who
" auuress oi nam-
" nations oi ui eartn,
detailing minutely all the causes which
Jetl to 'he exodus of the Jews from the
'and of Pharaohs,
n, mr,,,;! ., a,..
m'uino
anj iettrs in England. One of the
most beautiful works of recent Eng
lish design is a massive vase in gold
and silver in honor of Alfred Tennyson,
adorned with illustrations from his
principal poems. It is said to have
been made by Emanuel of London.
The Burmese Ambassadors are called
in Paris those unpleasant looking bun
dles of faded silk and foul linen. They
make night hideous at open air con
certs and theatres, and make day still
more so in the Bois, at races, reviews
everywhere. They should be women,
and yet their beards forbid one to in
terpret that they are such. They are
the most ill-favored and apparently ec
centric exotics that ever came from the
tropics.
An instance of rare honesty, and
showing how a dog may desire to pay
his board bill, is said to have recently
occurred in Fitchburg. A lady saw a
dog frequently about her house picking
up odd bits which had been thrown
out, and one day she called him in
and fed him. The next day he came
back, and as she opened the door, he
walked in and placed an egg on the
floor, when he was again fed. The fol
lowing day he brought another egg to
pay for his dinner, and on the fourth
day he brought the old hen herself,
who, it seems, had failed to furnish the
reqnired egg.
the whoie ,rt ,nJ my8tery of tending
cj 11 i .
children. Small-pox she must have
ouiau-pui
bad, and also measles. Sincerely we
hope that this Florida donkey will be
swindled.
The late Edward Everett condensed
into a single brief paragraph his esti
mation of what constituted a good edu
cation. Here it is: "To read the Eng
lish language well, to write with dis
patch a neat, legible hand and be mas-
ter of the first four rules of arithmetic.
so as to dispose of at once, with accu-
racy, every question of figures which
comes up in practice I call this a good
education. And if you add the ability
to write pure grammatical English, I
regard it as an excellent education-
These are the tools. You can do much
with them, bnt you are hopeless with
out them. 1 nay are tne foundation.
and unless yon begin with these, all
your flashy attainmenta,a little geology.
and all other ologies and osophies, are
ostentatious rubbish."
What would a great portion of the
I nations of the earth do without partio
' ular plants and fruits ? Take away the
potato from the Irish cabin, and star
vation comes. Famine already has it
hold on Bengal on account of the rice
crop. The bread fruit is to the West
Indian both food and clothing. Heaven
sends it ind causes it to grow, and the
lazy natives asa notaing lunaer. auu
yet all these yield to the despised
bamboo. We go fisb;ng with these
poles: the Chinese eat them. The usee
to which it is put render it a national
benefaction. Houses, boats,
. 1 . muia c.
hats, umbrellas, ail varieties oi weap-
ons. lamowicks. pencils, brushes, pens.
squeducts; telescopes and a thousand
other things of daily use. We might
almost say that were the bamboo to
perish suddenly from off the earth, the
whole Chinese Empire wonld eoUapse.
a
4
s
,1
J X
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