ffiSQl'll?- K(sHB1' BUI ; Jil ; Si if i B. F. SCHWEIER, THE CWTSTITTinOS-THi; USIOJ-AID TEE EfPOSOEMEIT OF THE LAWS. Editor and Proprietor. VOL. XXXI. MIFFLIMWX, JUNIATA COUNTY, FENNA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1877. NO. 47. T0-X0RR0W. The setting sun, with dying beams. Had waked the purple hill to fire, . And citadel and dome and spire Were gilded by the far-off gleam ; And in and oat the pine trees crept - Fall many a slender line of gold ; Odd metes athwart the river swept. . And kuwed it aa it onward rolled ; And snnUght lingered, loth to go. Ah ! we1, it cause th sorrow To part from those we love below ; And yet the sun aa bright shall glow To-morrow! The t do was ebbing on the strand. And stooping low its stiver crest ; Tbe crimson seaweed lay at rest rpon the amber-ribbed sand ; Dashed o'er the rocks and on the sani Flnng parting wreaths of pearly spray. Then fled away? yet tnrned ones more Kui sent a sigh across the bay. As though it could cot bear to go. Ah ! well, it cu-eth sorrow To part with those we love below. Vet th. the. ward the tide shall flow To-morrow ! Two heart i have met to fay farewell At even when the ann went down t E ch life-sound from the busy town f-'mote sadly as a pa-sing bell. One whispered : "Parting is sweet pain At morn and eve returns the tide ;" '-Nay ! parting rends the heart in twain." And a ill they linger, loth to go. Ah! well, it canaeth sorrow To part from those we love below - Fur shall we ever meet or tio To-morrow ? The Two Portraits. "Beautiful! beautiful !" exclaimed Earnest I.avalle, as, throwing himself back in his chair, he contemplated, unit ryes hair shut, a lovel v counte nance that smiled on him from a canvas to which he had just added a few hesi tating touches. It was but a sketch little more than outline and dead color ing, and a misty haze seemed spread over the tace, so that it seemed vision- likeaud intangible. Theyoungiainters exclamation w not addressed to hi: workmanship he was not even look ing at that faint image; but through its medium, was gazing on lineaments as rare and fascinating as ever floated through a poet's or an artist's dream. Ieep, lustrous blue eyes, in whose depth sincerity and feeling lay crysta- lizcd ; feature as regular as those of a Grecian statue; a lip melting, ripe, and dewy, half concealing, half revealing, a line of earls; soft brown hair, de scending in waves n x n a neck and shoulders of satin surface and Parian tirmness. Such were some of the ex ternal traits of lovliness belonging to "A creature not to bright and good For human nature's daily food," who hail completely actualized the ideal of the young Parisian artist, into whose studio we have introduced our readers. The fair original, w hose iwr trait is before us, was Rose'd Amour, a lieautiful actress of one of the metro politan theatres, who had just made her debut with distinguished success. There was quite a romance in her history. Of unknown parents she had commenced her career, like the celebrated Rachel, as a street singer, and was looking for ward to no more brilliant future, when her leauty, genius and purity of char acter attracted the attention of a dis tinguished newspaper editor, by whose lienevolent generosity she was enabled to prepare herself for the stage, by two or three years of assiduous study. The success of his proUye more than repaid the kind natron for his exertions and exjieniliture. A word of Ernest Lavalle, and it shall suffice. He was the son of a humble vine dresser in one of the agri cultural departments of France. His talent for drawing, early manifested, attracted the notice of his parish priest. whose earnest representations induced his father to send the boy to Paris, and give hi in the advantages afforded by students of art. In the great city, Ernest allowed none of the attractions, by w hich he was surrounded, to divert htm from the assiduous pursuit of his beloved art. His mornings were passed in the gallery of the Louvre, his after noous in private study, and his even ings at the academy where he drew from casts and the living model. The only relaxation he permitted himself was an occasional excursion in the pic turesque environsof the French capital ; and he always took his sketch book with him, thus making even his pleas ure subservient to his studies. Two prizes obtained, for a drawing and a picture, secured for him the patronage of the academy, at w hose expense he was sent to Italy, to pursue his studies in the famous galleries of Rome and Florence. He returned with a mind mimed with the beauty am! majesty of the works of those great masters, whose glory will outlive the canvas and marble which achieved it, determined to w in for himself a niche iu the temple of Fame, or perish in his laborious ef forts to obtain it. At this time he was in his twenty-second year. A vigorous constitution was his heritage; and his rounded cheek glowed with the warm color of health. His strictly classical features were enhanced by the luxuri ance of his hair, which he wore flowing in its native curls, while his full beard and moustache relieved his face from the charge of effeminacy. Ernest w as yet engaged In the con templation of the unfished work or rather of dreaming of the bright origi nalwhen a light tap was heard at his door. He opened it eagerly, and his 1-oor studio was suddenly illuminated, as it w ere, by the radiant apparition of Rose d'Atnour. She was dressed w ith a charming simplicity, which well be came a sylph like form, that required no adventitious aid from art. "Good morning, Monsieur Lavalle!" said the beautiful actress, cheerfully, as she dropped gracefully into the faateuil prepared for her reception. "You find me in the best possible humor to-day, thanks to this bright morning sun, and to the success of last night. Moh Dieul so many bouquets! you cau't think ! Really, the life of an urif begins to be amusing. I'1 vou find it so, aa a painter ?" "I confess to you mademoiselle, 1 Lave my moment of despondency." "V itn your fine talent! Think bet ter Of yourself. I hope, at least, that I have not been so unlucky as to surprise you in one of those inopportune mo ments. Ah, mademoiselle," said the painter "if It were so, one of your smiles would Uispel the cloud In a moment. "Really !" replied the actress, gaily "Are you quite sure there is no flat tery in the remark? I am aware that flattery is an essential part of an artist profession." "Not a true artist's,, replied Ernest "The aim and end of all art is truth anu ne wno lorgets it is untrue to hi: high mission." l rue," said the laxly. "Well, then faites rotre possible us Xapoleon said to nis mend David for I am anxious that this iortrait shall be a rh'f-d'a-urre. I design it for a present." "With such a subject before me," re plied the painter, "I could not labor more conscientiously, if the picture w ere designed for myself." The sitting passed very rapidly, for the artist; and he was surprised when the lady, after consulting her watch rose hastily and exclaimed, "That uuiuus rt-nearsai : i must leave you but you ought to be satisfied, for 1 have given you two hours of my valuable time. Adieu, then, until to-morrow. With a smile that seemed natural to her, the beautiful girl vanished, taking with her half the sunshine of the room l lie painter continued his labor of love. Indeed, so alisorbed was he in his employment, that he did not notice the entrance of a visitor, until he felt light tap on his shoulder, accomiianied ty the words, uravo, rnrnt clter I ltm are getting on famiiously. That is Rose herself- as radiant as she appears on the stage uen me locus ot a lurgnene had ex cluded all the stupid and tHnuuint figures that surround her." The Seaker w as .Sir Frederic Stanley. an English baronet, now some months in I'aris, w here he had plunged into all the gayeties of the season. He was handsome man, of middle age, whose features bore the impress of dissipation. lou know, the original, then?' asked the painter, somewhat coldly. "Know her! Mr dear fellow. I don'l know anybody else, as the Yankees say. W hy, I have the entrv of the 7onY,and pass all my evenings behind me scenes. I natter myself but no matter. I have taken a fancy to that picture; what do you say to a hundred lotuses for it?" 'It is not for me to dispose of it ? l ou nave succeeded so well, you wish to keep it for yourself eh' Double the price and let me have it impossible, Mr r rederic. It is painted for Mile. d'Amour herself, anil she designs it for a present." Say no more," said the baronet. with a self-satisfied smile. "I think I could name the happy individual." r-arnest would not gratify his visitor by a question, and the latter, finding the artist reserved and dtetrtu't, sud denly recollected the races at Chantilly, and took his leave. Can it be possible," thought the painter, "that Roe has suffered her af fections to repose on that conceited, purse-proud, elderly Englishman? O woman ! woman I how readily you barter the wealth of your heart for a handful of gold?" Another tap at the door another visitor ! Really, Lavalle must be get ting famous? This time it is a lady a lady of surpassing loveliness one of those well preserved English-women, who, at forty, are as attractive as at tw enty. This lady was tall and stately, with elegant manners, and perhaps a thought of sadness in her expression. She gazed long and earnestly upon the )Mrtrait of Rose d'Amour. "It is a beautiful face!" she said, at length, "And one that indicates, I should think, goodness of heart." "She is an angel !" said the painter. "You speak warmly, sir," said the lady, with a sad smile. Ernest blushed, for he feared that he had Itetrayed his secret. The lady did not appear to notice his embarrassment and passed to the occasion of her visit, which was to engage the young artist to paint her liortrait a task which he readily undertook, for he was pleased with, and interested in, his fair patron ess. The- picture was immediately com menced, and an hour fixed for a second sitting, on the next day. It was on that occasion, that the fair unknown encountered the actress, and they re tired in company. The two portraits were finished at the same time, and reflected the greatest credit uiou the artist. They were var nished, framed, and paid for, but the painter had received no order for their final disposition, when, one morning, Le was waited on by the two ladies, w ho informed him that they should call upon him the following day, when the two portrait would be presented, in his study, to the jiersons for whom they were designed. The artist was enjoiued to place them on two separate easels that of the actress to stand near est the door of the studio, and both to be concealed by a curtain until the ladies should glve the signal for their j exposure, the porirai oi wie r.iigiif lady, we will here remark, had, ny ner request, been hitherto seen only by the artist. There was a mystery in tins ar rangement, which piqued excessively, the curiosity of the painter, and he was anxioHS to w itness the denoument. The next day, at eleven o clock every thing was in readiness, and the painter awaited the solution of the mystery. The first person who presented nim- self was Sir Frederic Stanley. ITe was very radiant. ' "Congratulate me, won rnrr, he. -"Read that." Ernest took an oien note troin nis hand, and read as follows... n- .t t . atndio ef Ernest Lavauc wwnor- row. at eleven. Yon will there receive a p"es n which, if there be any truth in m.n . Tows, will oertainly delight yon. Dm- Tlx. astonishment and disappoint ment of Ernest was at iu height, when his door opened, and tneacircs--"" followed by a female, clesely reiiea. i ou are true to your appointment. Sir Frederick," said the actress, gaily, anu your punctuality shall be re warded." She advanced to the farther easel, and lifting the curtain, disclosed the features of the English lady. "This is for you !" said she laughing, ".My wife! by all that's wonderful!" exclaimed the baronet. "Accompanied by the original !" said Lady Stanley, as she unveiled and ad vanced. "Sir Frederick! Sir Fred erick ! when you were amusing your self, by paying unmeaning attentions to this young lady, I am afraid you for got to tell her that you had a wife in England." ' "I thought it unnecessary," slam mered the baronet. "How could you disturb the peace of mind or a young lady, when you could not requite her affection?" continued Lady Stanley. "It was only a flirtation, to pass the time." said Sir Frederic; "but I ac knowledge it was culpable. My dear Emetine, I thank you for your present. I shall ever cherish it as my dearest possession next to yonrself." "For yoo. sir," said the beautiful actress, turning to Ernest, "I cannot think of depriving you of your best ef fort. Take the portrait. I wish the subject were worthier." And she with drew the curtain from her picture. "I am ungrateful," said Ernest, in a low and tremulous tone. "Much as I prize the picture, I cau never lie happy without the original." "Is it so?" replied the actress, In the same low tone of emotion; then, plac ing her hand timidly in his, she added, "The original is yours!" Oat of Doors. ho can describe the pleasure and delight, the peace of mind soft tran quility which we feel iu the balmy air, and among the green hills and rich woods of an inland village! Who ran can tell how scenes of peace and quie tude sink into the minds of pain-worn dwellers in close and noisy places, and carry their own freshness deep in their jaded hearts ! 5Ien who have lived In crowded pent-up streets, through whole lives of toil and never wished for change; men to whom custom has been second nature, and who hare come al most to love each brick and stone that formed the narrow boundaries of their daily walks even they, with the hand of death upon them, have been knowu to yearn at least for one short glimpse of nature's face; and, carried far from the scenes of their pains and pleasures, have seemed to pass at once into a new tate of being, and. crawling forth from day to day, to some green, sunny spot, have had such memories wakened up within them by the mere sight of sky, and hill, and plain, and glistening water, that a foretaste of heaven itself has soothed their quick decline, and thev have sunk into their tombs as peacefully as the sun whose setting, they watched from their lonely cham ber window but a few hours liefore failed from their dim ami feeble sight! The memories which peaceful country scenes call up are not of the world, or of its thoughts or hoes; their gentle nfluence may teach us to weave fresh earlands for the graves of those we loved, may purify our thoughts, and ear down lefore it old enmity and hatred. But leneath all this there lingers in the least reflective mind a vague and half-formed consciousness of having held such feelings long before n some remote and distant time, which calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come, and bends down pride and worldliuess beneath It. Broken Bottles. The question as to what becomes of the oyster and cockle shells has lorg ao been solved. They are pulverized and used up for several useful purposes. The crushed cockle shell is invaluable as a bed on which to rest flower pots In the conservatory or forcing-house, and the oyster shell makes capital gravel for garden walks and "rubble" for builders' purposes. What becomes of all the pins Is a question more difficult to answer. Millions of these useful ob jects are daily manufactured, and yet the demand increases. Export orders cannot possibly keep pace with the sup ply, and consequently the number ab sorbed for home consumption must be something fabulous. But what becomes of the broken bottles, may well be asked. Thousands of tons of bottles must be broken every year in London alone, and the difference between the value of the sound and the broken bottles must amount to something very considerable. Broken "wines" and broken sodas" are converted . to many useful purposes, the latter especially. The best soda water bottles come from Yorkshire, and the "gingers" from Derbyshire. The "sodas" are no longer sent to the metro polls packed in crates, as formerly. In the crate they were pilfered to a great extent en route to their destination, and the cost of carriage was higher. They are now transmitted in bags made of coarse canvas packed in layers of straw. Each bag holds eiht dozen. Tbe broken bottles are subsequently utilized for the manufacture of cheap jewelery, chim ney ornaments, and inferior household glass for the. manufacturing districts. They are also used for the manufacture of emery power, glass paper, etc. Sour idea of tbe number of "sodas" broken In the process of filling, corking, clean ing, and distributing may be gathered from the circumstance that one great mineral-water manufacturer (Mr. H. D. Rawlings) sold last year 100 tons. The value of the "metal," as it is styled, is somewhere about 10s. pe" tn Dut ' varies according todemand. When the market for fancy goods is active, broken bottles command a better price. A re vival of trade sets this particular In dustry in motion along with others, and broken' bottles are enhanced In value. In fact broken glass and broken pottery serve many purposes, thougn it is oniy wiv that economical science has learned how to turn them to account. The cattle plague files-- ' The Marvels of Mas. While the gastric juice has a mild, bland, sweetish taste, it iossesses the power of dissolving the hardest food that can be swallowed. It has no In fluence whatever on the soft and deli cate fibres of the living stomach, nor upon the living hand, but at the mo ment of death it begins to eat them away with the power of the strongest acids. There is dust on sea, on land , In the valley and on the mountain-top there is dust always and everywhere; the at mosphere is full of it; it penetrates the noisome dungeon and visits the deep est, darkest caves of the earth ; no palace-door can shut It out, no drawer so secret as to escape Its presence ; every breath of wind dashes it upon the open eye, yet that eye Is not blinded, because under the eyelid there Is incessantly emptying itself a fountain of the bland est fluid iu Nature, which spreads it self over the surface of the eye at every winking and washes every atom of dust away. But this liquid, so mild and so well adapted to the eye itself, has some acridity, which, under certain circumstances, becomes so decided as to be scalding to the skiu and would rot away the ej lids were it not that along the edges of them there are little oil manufactories, w hich spread over their surface a coating as iniervious to the liquids necessary for keeping the eye ball washed clean, as the best varnish is impervious to water. The breath which leaves the lungs has leen so perfectly divested of its life giving pr. pet ties that to re-breathe it. unmixed with other air, the moment it escaies from the mouth, would cause Immediate death by suffocation, w hile if it hovered about us a more or less de structive influence over heat Ih and life would be occasioned. But it is made of a nature so much lighter than the com miiu air that the instant that it escapes the lips and nostrils it ascends to the higher regions 'above the breathing- point, there to be rectified, renovated and sent back agaiu, replete with puri ty ami life. How rapidly It ascends is beautifully exhibited every frosty mor ning. But, foul and deadly as the expired air is, Nature, wisely economical in all her works and ways, turns it to good account in its outward passage through the organs of the voice, making of It the whispers of love, the soft words of af fection, the tender tones of human sym pathy, the sweetest strains of ravishing music, the iersuasive eloquence of the finished orator. If a well-made man lie extended on the ground, his arms at right angles with the body, a circle, making the navel its center, will just take iu the head, the finger-ends and the feet. The distance from top to toe is precisely the same as that between the tips of the Angers when the arms are extended. The length of the body is just six times that of the foot, while the distance from the edge of the hair on the forehead to the end of the chin is one-tenth the length of the whole nature. Of the sixty-two primary elements knowu iu Nature, only eighteen are found in the human body, and of these seven are metallic. Iron is found iu the blood, phosphorus in the brain, lime stone in the bile, lime in the bones, and dust and ashes in all ! Not only these eighteen human elements, but the whole sixty-two of which the universe is made, have their essential basis in the four substances of oxygen, hydrogen, nitro gen and carlxm, representing the more familiar names of fire, water, saltpeter and charcoal. And such is man, the lord of earth ! a spark of fire, a drop of water, a grain of gunpowder, an at om of charcoal ! Hull's Journal of Jlniltk. Goldoni. After Oliver Goldsmith, I do not know any figure in the history of literature that should take the gentle reader's lik ing more than the Italian comic drama tist, Carlo Goldoni. These two charm ing writers are not unlike in certain particulars of their lives. They were both children of that easy-going eigh teenth century, of the period before its griefs began with the French revolu tion, and as Irishman and Venetian they might very 'naturally have been allied In temperament; the American traveler is nowhere more vividly re minded of a certain class of adoptive fellow-citizens than in Venice. More over, they had b.ith the vagabondizing instinct, and were aesthetic wanderers, Goldsmith all over Europe, and Goldo ni up and down Italy, to die after many years' self-exile in France. They were alike in their half-education for the medical profession, and alike in aban doning that respectable science for the groves of Academe, not to say Bohemia; Goldoni, indeed, left the law and sev eral other useful and grave employ ments for these shades which are not haunts of flowery ease, after all. But these authors are even more alike in certain engaging qualities of mind than in their external circumstances. If the English essayist was vastly higher in the theory than in tbe conduct of life, poor Goldoni had his moral ideas too, and tried to teach in his comedies puri ty, good faith and other virtues which were foolishness to most of the world by whose favor he must live. lie re sembled Goldsmith in the amiability of bis satire, the exquisite naturalness of his characterization, the simplicity of his literary motives; but he was no poet, though a genius, and he falls fur ther below Goldsmith in this rather than in respect of the morality he taught. Perhaps Dr. Goldsmith would have been but little pleased to be 'com pared with the Venetian dramatist, if the comparason had been made in his lifetime, for if he ever heard of Goldoni at all, it must have been in scornful terms from that Joseph Barrettl who dwelt in London and consorted with Dr. Johnson, and had wielded upon his Italian brethren a Frusta Litteraria, or Literary Lash (as he called his ferocious critical papers,) that drew blood ; Bar rettl despised Goldoni for a farceur ot low degree, not being able to see the truth and power of his comedies, and nsed to speak ' of him as "one Charles Goldoni." Nevertheless, if the Vene tian could have brought himself to leave the delights of Paris long enough to pay that visit to London which the Italian operatic company once desired of him, he might have met Goldsmith ; and then I am sure that the founder and master of the natural school of English fiction would have liked the inventor of realistic Italian comedy. At any rate Goldoni would have liked Goldsmith The Spectator was the fashion at Venice as well as at London in Goldoui's day; it had formed the taste for the kind of writing in which Goldsmith excelled, and tbe Citizen of the World would have found an intelligent admirer In a man who haplessly knew as much of the world as himself. The Atlantic Monthlg. Alia. In Algeria, the tall, reedy grass. lending the otherw ise airy plains the glow of mellow corn-fields, Is the Stipa tenaciima familiar to botanists and the alfa of commerce. A handful of it, shown to me by the head of a large newspaper Arm In London, looks like nothing else I know of in the vegetable world. The blades, between two and three feet high, are brown and wiry, and exceedingly tenacious in texture. A more unpromising-looking natural specimen It would be difficult to name; yet this ill-favored plant has already made the fortune of speculators, and is tending in no small degree to aid the progress of Algerian colonization. It may, indeed, be regarded as an exhaust ible source of wealth, seeing that mill ions of acres are covered with it, that it requires no cultivation, and as soon as one crop U cut another begins to grow. A fewyears siuce, this desert grass was regarded aa an obstacle to progress, but the happy notion occurred to some in ventive mind that paper might be made of it, and so well did the experiment answer, and so rapidly did the inven tion spread, that enormous quantities are now exported to England and other countries. Many of our leading news papers are printed on paper thus man ufactured, the proprietors Lloyd's H'eel ly .Yew, I believe, taking the initiative. In 1S0S 95,Xl0 tons of alfa grass was ex ported to England alone, the quantity now exported having risen to 12.-,0U0 tons. The $t(ja. tnaeitsima grows in Spain, and has become an object of com merce in that country, but the prepara tion of it in Algeria seems to be lietter understood, and it Is chiefly from the French colony that we draw our sii plies. Within the last two or three years an enterprising firm have under taken to construct railways between the plateaux a.id the seaports, receiving as sole indemnity from the Government the right of farming some hundred thousand hectars of the great alfa re gion. These new lines of railways are in progression, and by diminishing the cost of transport will greatly faciliate the commerce. In his S)eech before the Conseil Superieur of Novemler, lS7-", Gen, Chanzy, the Governor-Gen eral of Algeria, alluded to the exporta tion of alfa as one of the most promising sources of wealth in the country, and great prominence was given to It in the Kxwsition. Not only jiaper of first rate quality is manufactured from the Stipa tnnciima, but hair-brushes and other brushes, mats, artificial flowers and basket-work. It has also a medical use. A few grains of the ashes of the plant mixed with oil makes an excel lent remedy for burns, and it also sup plies capital tooth-powder. The net result of this commerce last year reach ed 8,814,2:10 francs. Fratr Magazine. i Evening Damps. One more fruitful cause ofdisease re luains'to lie noted, and that is, excess ive diurnal changes of temcrature. The range of the thermometer from noonday to morning is not only great er in the country, but the heavy dews consequent upon this render the chang es more perceptible and less easily re sisted by the human system. During the day the heat is felt more severely than in the city, where shelter during exercise is obtainable for most of the day, and when evening comes on with its cool breezes, incautious persons ex pose themselves with little or no addi tional clothing. ' They came Into the country to be comfortable they say, and they ride or sit in the open air till thoroughly cooled if not slightly chill ed. At the same hour on tlie next day they are again chilled, and so on until intermittent fever or some one of its kindred diseases so cordially invited, steps in and takes full jxtssession. We by no means repudiate the malarial origin of these diseases, but we do say that such a course of conduct strongly predisposes the system to the Influence of that dread unknown destroyer. Such checks of perpiration are also frequent causes of intestinal diseases, more frequent than any other; as is no toriously seen in the great prevalence of dysentery . and kindred disorders when the contrast between the tempera ture of night and day is most marked. Dr. Searl. M ystertows Lights. From time to time the west coast of Wales seems to have been the scene of mysterious lights. In the fifteenth cen tury, and again on a larger scale in the sixteenth, considerable alarm was creat ed by fires that "rose out of the sea." Writing in January, lb04, the rector of Dolgelly stated that sixteen ricks of hay and two barns had been burnt by "a kindled exhalation which was often seen to come from the sea." Passing over other alleged appearances in March 18T.", a letter by the late Mr. Ptcton, Jones appeared in "Bygones," p. 198, giving an account of curious lights which he had witnessed at Pwllheli, and now we have a statement from To- wvn that within the last few weeks lights of various colors have frequent ly been seen moving over the estuary of the DysynnI river and out at sea. They are generally In a northern di rection, but sometimes they hng the shore, and move at a high velocity for miles toward Aberdyfi, and suddenly disappear." 0$vestr Advertiser. The Ottoman Greek. The fault of the Greek character is love of Intrigue, and a deficiency in the power of making individual interests subservient to the interests of the State, But it cannot be denied that very great progress has been made by Greece since her escape from Ottoman rule far greater, in fact than would have been the case had she remained under it. The cause of this Is not far to seek: unity of religion, and unity of social habits among the subjects make them more easy to govern than If they were of opposite religions, and under the in fluence of fanatical hatred. Moreover, in Greece there is no Inquisition of foreign intrigue to foster insurrection and thwirt every attempt at reform. such an exists, in Turkey : and last, not least, there are more able and educated men to meet the wants of the Govern ment. The Gieeks complain that the area of their country is too small to develop the great administrative talents which they possess; but I much doubt whether, if it were extended to a Bay santine Empire, their habits of intrigue would not create divisions which would break it up into'small and independent States. One thing they have learned of late years which will tell to their ad vantage, and that is, that Russia has hitherto made use of Greece simply for her own purposes, and that Pan-Sea-vonic and Pan-Hellenic schemes are forces acting upon the same line, but in opposite directions. Amid the late dis turbances under which Turkey has been laboring, Greece has shown one encouraging symptom of power, and that is self-control. This proves that the Government has a hold over the passions of the people, and is also alive to the real interests of the country. A rising of Greek-Ottoman subjects, sup ported by an attack from Greece proper would certainly prove a painful thorn in the side of Turkey at the present moment, (January, 1877.) but, cui bono, it could only end in promoting the views of Russia at tbe expense of Greece. Greek lives and Greek money would have to supjKirt the rebellion, commerce mould be obstructed, massacres would excite the interference of foreign powers, and Greece would be reduced to her former limits a poorer and a wiser State. In traveling along the Macedonian frontier it is painful and melancholy, but not unnatural, to find the bitter feeling which has been left among the Greek-Ottoman subjects by the horrors produced by retaliation during the war of independence. The town of Niausta iu a lovely situation about 2,000 feet up Mount Bernius, and overlooking the whole of the Mace donian plain and the sea beyond suffered more than any other in this way. I was there last year, and was led by an old man to a beautiful green sward in a grove of walnut trees just above a precipitous rock, over which fell a clear stream in r. succes.Mve cas cades for about 1,000 feet until It reached the wide plain below. Moun tains and woods rose at the back, and I was basking In the beauties of nature, when I was aroused by details of the hideouscouductof man. "It was here," the old man said, "that when a boy I saw all the male population of Niausta brought to execntion. The Turkish officials stood here, the executioner there. One by one the Christian Greeks were led out. The question was put to them. 'Giaour, wilt though save thy soul by following God and the prophet? The answer was No, Eflendirn; and the executioner did his work. But there was one young man, so grand, so noble, so handsome, that they paused, then reluctantly put the fatal question, and he firmly answered 'No.' Go back, Giaour, and think over your refusal for an hour.' Again he was brought forth, and again the same answer. Still loth to take so fine a life, they offered him a third and last chance for repentance. What now, your.g Giaour, wilt thou accept the terms and live?' 'By God's help, never, he replied, and boldly met his tate." Truly, these were Christian martyrs, and their race should be capable of great deeds. The demoraliz ing effects of such horrors are not con fined to the moment, but leave their track behind. This I witnessed on visiting the house of a Greek shortly after this old man's recital. A pretty child came into the room, a boy of about i years of age, and upon ray taking him on my knee, and making my u-ual re mark that he was a fine boy for his age, tbe father said, "Georgie, tell this gentleman how many Turks you will kill when you are a man." There was much behind that question.' In the small Greek towns on the Black Sea coast very little complaint is iieard of Turkish misgovernmcnt, but on the Macedonian froutier it is the chief topic of conversation. The Greeks take more kindly to brigandage than any other of the Ottoman subjects, Ciicassians ex cepted, and most of the bands which used to intest the mountains which divide Thessaly from Macedonia were composed of scoundrels from that na tion. Mchemet Ali Pasha, (by birth a German,) by his energy and persever ance, dispersed the whole of these bands when In command of the district, three years ago; but since tbe anarchy pro duced by the late rebellions he has been called to the seat of war, and brigand age has again appeared. Here again Is another instance of the difficulty under which Turkey labors, of not being allowed time to set her house in order. Baker t Turlcea. To Toans; Men. It has been said, and truly, that a man is a bundle of habits. It may be said, with equal truth, that bad habits are our worst enemies. How they steal on us almost unconsciously and securely fasten themselves to us ! What tremendous efforts it takes to rid our selves of them when once we have yielded. In one of the great churches of Naples I looked upon a form of mar ble that I shall never forget. Tbe statue is called "Vice Convinced," and represents, in life size, a man strug gling with tremendous efforts to break loose from the network of evil habits j with which they have completely en veloped him. The net is represented by a cordon of open work marble abont him. A roaster hand was wrought out this wonderful piece of statuary. A strong man in the prime of life finds himself completely encircled, bound hand and foot by bad habits. The net work is complete. There seems to be no possible escape from it meshes. But under the inspiration of a new purpose, that seems to have come to the man from the face of a beautiful angel, with a mighty effort he has succeeded in breaking asunder the coils that are about him. Every muscle isatatenison, every part of the entire form seems con vulsed in the fearful struggle. But he has been successful, and a radiant smile of joy and relief light up his face. Never before had I so fully realized the power and tyranny of a habit, how ut terly impossible it is to break loose from a bad one. Every day I neet, on these streets men, who, though rich, would give ail their treasures in a moment could they rise above the power of an evil habit. Only tbe other day a citi zen fled away from our city to a distant part of the country, hoping, as he said, to get rid of the temptations that were about him. The formation of correct habits in early life is comparatively easy, in a word : if you would become model characters you must discard all bad habits, all odd habits, all that is ungra cious or ungrateful in word or deed, or manner. In order to do this you must study constantly yourselves, and, if possible, be under the influence and shadow of good men and women. Read, in hours of recreation, good books. Shun, as you would a deadly poison, the impure literature that is more or less abroad. Pass by on the other side, al ways, when invited to take a social glass with a friend. Bear about with you the conscious dignity of manhood, not in a vain but a modest, yet positive way. Never sacrifice principle for plaee. Embark In no business scheme that has not a fair promise of moderate returns. Never spend that which you have not got. Don't discount the fu ture, it may not be yours. The First Champagne. It happened that about the year 1GC8 the office of cellarer was conferred upon a worthy monk named Perignon. Po ets and roasters, we know, are born, and not made; and this precursor of Moets and Cliqtiots. the Heidsieck and the Miliums of our days, seems to have lceu a heaven-born cellarman, with a strong head and a discriminating palate, The wine exacted from the neighboring cultivator was of all qualities good, bad, and indifferent, and w ith the spirit of a true Benedictine, Doni Perignon hit upon the idea of "marrying' the produce of one vineyard with that of another. He had noticed that one kim of soil imparted fragrance and another generosity, and discovered that a white wine could be made from the blackest grapes, which would keep good, instead of turning yellow and degenerating like the wine obtained from w hite ones. Moreover, the happy thought occurred to him that a piece of cork was a much more suitable stopper for a bottle than the flax dipped in oil, which had here tofore served that purpose. The white, or as it was sometimes styled, the gray w ine of Champagne grew famous, and the manufacture spread throughout the province, but that of Hautvillers held the predominance. The cellarer, ever busy among his vats presses, barrels and bottles, alighted upon a discovery destined to be far more important in its results. He found out the way of making an effervescent wine a wine that burst out of the bottle and over Aowed the glass, that was twice as dainty to the taste, and twice as exhil arating in its effects. It was at the close of the seventeenth century that this discovery was made when the glorj- of the Roy Soleil was on the wane, and with it the splendor of the court of Versailles. The king, for whose especial benefit liqueurs had been invented, found a gleam of his youthful energy as he sipped the creamy foaming vintage that enlivened his dreary tete-a-tete w ith the w idow of Scarron. It found its chief patrons, however among the bands of gay yonng roysterers, the future nufs of the Re gency, whom the Due D' Orleans and the Due De Vendeme had gathered round them at the Palais Royal and at Anet. It was at one of the famous s-iitjtrri d'Anet that the Marquis De Sil lery who had turned his sword into a pruning-knife, and applied himself to the cultivation ofhis paternal vineyards on the principles inculcated by the cellarer ot St. Peter's first introduced the wine hearing his name. The flower-wreathed bottles, which, at a given signal, a dozen of blooming young dam sels scantily draped in the guise of Bac chanals placed upon the table, were bailed with rapture, and henceforth sparkling wine was an indispensable adjunct at all the ttits sUjrt of the period. In the highest circles the pop ping of champagne-corks seemed to ring the knell of sadness, and the vic tories of Marllorotigh were in a measure coin eii sated for by this grand discov ery. .'' Suri'ti. Srlf-Reliance Xreeswrv to Saeresa. Self-reliance, conjoined with promp titude in the execution of our under takings, is indispensable to success. And yet multitudes live a life of vacil lation and consequent failure because they remain undetermined what to do, or having decided that, have no confi dence in themselves. Such person need to he assured, but this assurance can be obtained in no other way than hy their own successes in whatever they may attempt themselves. If they lean npon others, they not only become dissatisfied with w hat they achieve, but the success of one achievement, in which they are, entitled to but partial credit, is no guar anty to them, that, unaided, they will not fail in their very next experiment. TV, a mttnpu of a man not to be faultless Is, bat to be raised above the faults which yet are his. A Veteruai and His OarM, The order, In 1S0IT to cut off their hair, issued by Brigailier"General James Wilkinson, then general in chief, caus ed great indignation among the veteran officers, who looked upon it as a "French innovation." It was a follows: "For the accommodation, comfort and health of the troops, the hair is to he cropped without exception, and the general will give the example." This was followed by another, which said, "whi.-kers aud short hair illy accord; they will not. therefore, be permitted to extend lower than the bottom of the ear. The less hair about a soldier's head the neater and cleaner will he be." Of these or ders, the first, as to the cropping of the hair, is still in force. The second, as to wearing whiskers in any other man ner than thus prescribed, w as not re scinded uutil 1S.k; and then it was pre scribed and still is the regulatiou that "the beard may be worn at the pleas ure of the individual, but must be kept short and neatly trimmed." For the corps of cadets there is stili the regula tion, which is strictly enforced, that "the hair is to be short, or what is gen erally termed cropped; whiskers and moustaches shall not be worn." In lsol there was an old and distinguished of ficer, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas But ler commanding the Second Begulrr In fantry, who had entered the Second Pennsylvania Infantry as a 1st lieuten ant in 1776 (St. Clair's Regiment, Jan. ",) served through that war with hon or, having beeu wounded, and agaiu twice wounded in St. Clair's defeat in 17SU. He solemnly declared he would not cut off his much-prized queue. General Wilkinson did not then press the matter, but issued the following or der: "Lieutenant Colonel Commanding Butler, at his particular request, and in consideration of his infirm health, has permission to wear his hair. On the subject of this order the general will briefly observe that it has been sanction ed in America by the first military characters of the British ami American armies; that it ha been recommended by the ablest generals who have lived, and has been adopted by the bet troops in the world, and thatthecut of the hair is as essentia! a part of military uniform as the cut of the coat or color of the fa cings." Afterward Wilkinson with drew the indulgence, and as Colonel Butler persisteil in a queue, he sent him in 1803 before a general court martial of his ow n apiiintment, on this, for disobedience of orders and other mat ters. He was acquitted of the other charges, but sentenced to lie repriman ded, which gave Wilkinxm an opjior tunity to indulge in invective and sar casm, and to again order Colonel But ler to cut off his hair. The latter iu a personal interview re fn set I (Wilkinson to Secretary of War, Washington, Oct. 2-", 184, War iH-partntcut file), aud having gone to New Orleans and as sumed command, committed anew the breach of orders. At this time an ar tillery officer, writing home, said, "Col . Butler wears his hair, and is determin ed not to cut it off." (New Orleans, Nov. 10, 1S4, Lieutenant Colonel Con stant Freeman.) For this, Wilkinson sent him before another general court martial, "for w ilful, obstinate and con tinued disoliedience of orders, and for mutinous conduct." The court sen tenced him to suspension for one year, but liefore the order was issued the vet eran had leen gathered to his fathers, and was buried w ith his queue. M-ij. '( Amrricin History. Two Rowian Cathedra.!. Among the greatet glories of St Petersburg are the two magnificent cathedrals St. Isaac's and Our Lady of Kazan. In their construction and fin ish both display an enormous outlay of money, iiiio-iiig architecture, costly materials and exquisite interior decora tion. It w ill suffice to give some idea of the former, w hich is the most stu pendous of the two. In the first place, the cost of sinking the piles on which the foundations rest was $l,0n0,0iio. The building, which is iu the form of a Greek cross, is of Finland granite, and supported by over one hundred pol ished pillars, sixty feet high and seven feet in diameter. The cupola is sur rounded by thirty more of these pillars of large size, which support the gilded dome, sixty-six feet in diameter, with a miniature cupola above. Then the whole is surmounted by a gilt cross, the top of w hich is 3:16 feet from the ground. The exterior decorations are huge bronze figures and doors, as well as Corinthian capitals and biblical groups in the facade. Inside the effect is most impressive, Here again are great pillars of polished granite, as well as ten of iron covered w ith malachite and two w ith lapis lazuli. The walls and floors are of glistening granite and marble of different colors. Pictures of " sacred subjects adorn the walls; images loaded with jewels and gifts are met at every turn; -the altar is resplendent with bronze, gold, silver, jewels, bght and trappings; gold aud silver chande liers for hundreds of candles are hung from the lofty ceiling, and everywhere shrine lights and burning tapers meet the sight to complete the impressive grandeur. Duriug service the effect is heightened. The Greek Church em ploys vocal, but not instrumental music. The resjionses are chanted at St. Isaac s by a large body of choristers without accompainmeut. 1 he candles in tne chandeliers are all lighted; several priests and altar boys appear in gold and silver vestment.-:, and the people all standing are constantly crossing themselves or bowing their heads tothe marble floor the w hole constituting a scene of profound devotion to the Su preme Being that can never be rorgot ten. On account of irreconcilable dif ferences between the Catholic and Rns-so-Greek churches, Russia still uses the old style Greek or Julian calendar, w hich "is twelve days behind the new style Latin or Gregorian calendar. A Maryland peach-grower is said to have shipped twenty barrels of peach kernels to Dayton, Ohio, recently to be used for "chemical purposes." if ! ' J
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers