A
It
4
lWE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAV WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW.'
BV JOHN G. GIVEN
EUHNSUUUG, Til U US DAY, SEPTEMUEU C, 1819.
VOL. 5. NO. 48.
iff
5
piiB1.TTrrrniiT IBM
MISOiiLL ANEO U S
A CUAR.11IMJ srOKY.
The Virgin ol V.m Dyck.
Jldajte I from the French,
Hi KvsK AC ION.
In one of the large saloons of St. James
palace, during ihe reign of the first Jaines,
was assembled a bright group of mirth
and beauty young tair girls, from wuosa
softly roauJed anJ dimpled cheeks the
blush of hope and pleasure had never fa
did, whose laughing eyes could never
have known tears. Tnese were gathered
round an open window, looking upon the
palace gardens, beading o ver the tapestried
woik, men so comm. inly saeu in ui deli
cate lingers of those lifted by rank beyond
the cares and concerns of household man
agement; and the briglit buds blooming be
neath ihe skilful needles of llie fair work
men, seemed all that engrossed their
thoughts on that lovely morning; though
over their graceful heads had passed
enough summers to teach that, however
we tread, even among flowers we mast
encounter thorns. But ah! :here lay
the secret, it hid been always summer to
those light-hearted ones. Eaeh bent
lau.
jIlIM M..' f . H . l1T t:lk . IlllU.' UIIll tlli'll '.
pausing ui expectation of a summons; for i
ths Queen had not yet risen, ana nu tern-
ble tyranny of court ceremonies had not
commenced. Every sunny spot has us
siiade, and the only shadow cast over dial
fair scene was the presence of a lady who, ;
by her age and grave dignity, seemed of
advanced rank, and in e.ide.u recolleciion
ot her responsibility and required stateli- i soCdv. 'You are proud, and we are pow
uess. This lady was the Urund Duchess j er,-uj. ,Ktj lawCver, let me assure you
D'Alhy, lust lady in waiting, aud guar- lllal .hesu fak0rs are 0reredon one WA$Xm
than an J muaitress to the young maius ut
honor gathered around her, waning tier
Majesty's summons lo their dunes. Of
t ie lovely w o.kme i, one was d.ot ng lished
from her companions, amidst their eoquet
ish adortimenis, by the studied simplicity
of her dress aud tne quiet thoughu'ulness
of her lair features; her robe of black vel
vet fell open, discovering a full u nite satin
petticoat; whila deep iuiiljs tailing from
the elbows, only allowed a partial glimps
of the small rounded arm; and her only
ornament was a litde diamond cross, the
souvenir ot a lost and beloved mother;
this simple attire was further deepened by
a long veil, flung over her dark tresses,
and mingling with the folds of her som
bre dress.
Dorothea was of one of the noblest Scot
tish families, and inheritress of its high
pride and dignity; Lord liuthven, her fatti
er possessing an escutcheon as famed for
its unstained nobility as his vast estates
for their extent.
; short time before our tale opens, the
young ocotch maueu nau oeen orougnt
from her Highland fastnesses to occupy a
post of honor near t .e Queen, for the pur
pose of completing hr education in the
accomplishments extant in those days.
But Gie heart had charms for the young
student; naturally thoughtful, motherless, j
uuu icit iu ui vji iau- si ve inougniiuiness men mingling wmi u.
cies, Dorothea had from childhood loved . Tlie Duchess was the first to break the
to make herself friends among the pictured spell thing round the lisiening group. 'And
ancestors of her house. Daily in the yet, surely you could somewhere find a
large galleries, ruigh be seen a fair young perfect modal.
form holding converse, in thought, with Yes, madame, among those who are
ths generations passed away; and insensi- j exalted as well as beautiful; and even there
bly the girl's untutored mind began to no- j i have seen but one whose perfection re
tice and appreciate, as time passed by the alizes mv visionings. Alas! she whom 1
glorious creations of the painter s vision
ings; and Paul Veronese, Guido, and Reu
bens, were able masters to the young
dreamer; aud when youth usurped the
place of childhood, the childish fancy
deepened to a fervent passion; and Doro
thea came into the world to taste its plea
sures and experience by the side of royalty,
with bin one aim and hope in her young, j
guileless heart; the yearning to achieve a
glorious fame in the noble art of which she
was a worshipper.
But to return to the morning tasks of
the fair group. Ten o'clock struck, and
each young head was lifted lo the large
time-piece, while a chorus of wondering
voiees was raised in evident surprise at
the absence of an expected addition to
their circle. Hardly had the echoes died
when the door of the saloon was flung
pen to give entrance to the object of their
sjrmises the painter Van Dyck. At the
announcement of his name there was a
gineral flutter among the pearls and satin
robes of the fair girls like the waving of a
group of flowers beneath the touch of the
eening breeze, and each graceful fold was
. rJ-arranged on the silken ottomans. The
young pupil of Rubens, accustomed as he
was to look upon the beautiful among cre
ation, could not refrain a glance of sur
prise and admiration on suddenly finding
himself in the midst of sq brilliant a rircle.
Nor was the involuntary emotion unnoti
ced by the noble maidens.
The Duchess UAlhy, attributing the
yojng man s embarrassment to the digni
fied hauteur of her greeting, condescended
to relieve him by a polite smile and tone
'We have been told of your lallent, my
dear sir, and I suppose truly, she com
menced patronizingly. '
'They do me too much honor. Madam.
Those who told you this have judged it
by the intention; but I have yet dons noth
ing to pro ve their assertion correct.
Van Dyck bowed as he spoke, with as
much haughtiness as had characterized
the question of that noble ladv'.
Dorothea had felt the prjud blood of
her land m mtle in her cheek during the
signiuemt introduction of her monit.css;
and at the painter s reply, the blush deep
ened to that of such eager gratification -while
her dark eyes weie raised suddenly
to his face dial the young man noticed
the kinJly interest, and in his heart bless
ed hr for it.
'Well, well, continued the Duchess,
more gently, -we shall be anle to jjdge of
this for Her Mijesty wishes the decora
tions of the chapel to be renewed; so you
will have suJfieient motive for exertion.
For your winter stuJio you will be allow
ed Blaitlbrd House; it is an ancient mon
astery, which you can see from here; you
will oequi'e alone there, an I uninterrup
ted. And for the summer you will be
granted Eltheirn House. I think the ar
rangement suiiieiendy agreeable for the re
quirements of an artist.'
'My art is a lejal talent, Madame, that
knows no epid,' replied the artist proud
ly. lf I p ssess it to the height of my
ambition the labors which you speak of
as beyond a pointer's deserts will not suf
fice to procure materials for my work.'
I'l . . I.. , : i . i " i . i
i n il in iv o'i, sir, saiu ;ue uueness,
tion. The Q leen nominates you as Court
Artist, when you have won the prize off
ered to the pupils of the Italian school for
the Head of the Virgin.'
'Yes, M idline, 1 know it know it too
weli,' replied the young painter, with a
hall sigh. 'If the Queen'
obtained on this condition
s favor can be
alone, it is not
for me. 1 shall not gain the prize.'
Ana w v not, sir i
Do you refuse the
honor, or is it that you have no taith in
your powers." And the eyes of the no'ole
I in piisitress were bent wonderingly on the
; suddenly drooping figure of the young
! man.
j lIow is it possible, MaJime, to repre
! sent the features of Oar Lady, glorious as
j they should be' I have no model.' And
' as he spnke, he fixed his earnest glance on
the gentle face of the Scottish maiden. 4l
; ha e sought everywhere for the beautiful
peace and holy resignation upon an earih
. Iv face and vainly.'
By the same Lnpiilsc of enthusiasm, the
graceful heads of
tlie young girls were
raised to tiie despondent speaker, and for
tlie first time did liny acknowledge the
attraction of the inspired countenance,
Nothing could cxeeed the brilliant glow of
the soul's sunshine on the face of Van
Dvck, and nothing could so enhance the
beauty and expression as the shade of pen- j
have found is lost tome; she is a noble
lady, who would disdain to sit to a poor
artist.
As he ceased, Van Dyck bent his glow
ing gaze again on ihe young Dorothea;
j while the maiden's unquiet mien and
j bljshing brow betrayed her coneiousness
! of ths worlds' veiled meaning; aud on
the minds of each of the fair workmen
burst the same suspicion, Dorothea was
the noble model of the proud young pain
ter's wishes. The Grand Duchess alone j
was blind to the passing scene; and a j
greater degree of sympat .y bleuded in her
tone as she turned again to the artist.
And this noble lady who is she.''
The Virgin htrsef Madame.'
He arose as he spoke, and bent grace
fully and gravel, in adieu, casting a glance
upon the troubled features of his pictured
subject.
if I gain this prize, Madame,- he mur
mured as he passedi befjre the Duchess,
you will see me again; if not, 1 shall
leive England.
According to the Queen's arrangement.
Van Dyck took possession of BlaifTord
House, situated opposite to the Palace;
he was to work out his design for the off
ered prize, as well as re-decorate the chap
el ornaments. Hardly had he been in
stalled in ihe royal studio, when his pen
cils were seized to portray the form which
had haunted his imagination ever since
his interview with the Duchess. BtAas
the bright figure of the young girl rose be
fore him, his gaze was dim and unsteady,
and his hand faltered in its task. A new
ecliug, intense in its depth, was strug
;ling in his heart; mvriads of vague fan
cies rose each time he essayed to compl -te
ihe creation. Alas! for th5 dreamer!
Tne was passed in struggling to realize
his vision; and the night surpassed him.
pale and exhausted, by his eased, despon- J
dent of success. j
And for the young subject of his dreams? :
From th moment of the absence of
Van Dyck from the Palace, the mockeries,
the envious glanc.es, the sarcisms of the
fair group were lavished on the drooping
head of the young Dorothea without mer
cy. Before they had separated that night,
the slighted beauties had mule their gen
tle companion bitterly rue the chance that
had given her the painter's choice. We
know not how far the promptings of each
of those young vam hearts led them, in
th
eir dreams; but we do know that after
her evening prayer, tne last thought in the
Scotch maiden's pure and guileless mind
was devoted to her fellow-worshipper at
ihe sarins of the most noole of the arts.
It was midnight, the broad shadows of
the tall trees in the Palace gardens stood
out in hold relief against the moonlit stat
uary, and dewy flowers beneath; while
the old abbey walls adjoining the ground
even among their creeping mosses and
ivy glistened in the silver light Hung
down ny night's fair Queen. Midnight:
yet that silent hour found one of earths
denizens sleepless, and unconscious of
Time's passing struggling amidst the
sternest of ail toil, that of the teeming
brain. The hour had come round to tind
Van Dyck before the unlinished image of
his visionings in his monastic studio; there
were traces of heavy thought and exhaus
t.on on the painter's feu aires, as he laid
down his pale.te and pencdls with a sigh; j
and in t.iat sigh there was a bitter despair
whicii held tne key to his broken mur-
murines: 'Unlike! unlike! It will be ,
ever thus.
w
I am but striving to preserve
1 a vision that is too
dazzling for mv poor
weak gaze. So it wid be. Peace, joy,
all love for her; wiide I like the poor
worshipper that grovels in the dasl before
his glittering idol stand here, hoping on, '
i struggling with mc
iimri,' -.i r! n rn i n ir ii i .'
taut shrine, unknown, uurememoered
alone!'
Aione! Pause in thy murmuring, Van !
Dyck. It is an hour when hearts that !
know not care or suffering should be bea-
ton wnh the calm pulse of sleep; and yet :
other eves than tiitne are waking in it.
We will leave ihe dreamer to his mward
communing, and pass out again into the
moonlit girdensof the Palace. At the
moment uie painter's sigh eenoed through
! hi
cloistered studio, and he fancied luin-
self the sole disturber of th
night s
soli- j
tude, a window of tne palace was gently
opened, and a female form stepped out '
upon the stone balcony; and, traversing its
length, descended the broad steps into the ,
shadow ot the tall trees, and.
emerging
from the ground, paused at the gothic por
tal of ihe manasier
figure
It was strange to see that slight
gliding on in that
solemn silence, amidst
rumeJ sione-wurk, and tree and shrub, rus-
tling in the night breeze; but the wander
er seemed to oe too much engrossed by
inougnt to tccoiieci wnere sue stood,
I Passing through the porch, she wound her
, way among tne dim aisles of the chapel,
an entering one ot the galleries, pusued
opeu a h-ili-closed door: and without pau-
sing to observe its occupancy, stood in the
i louely studio, looking eumly and gravely
upon the drooping form ot th? young artist,
at his tasK. of memory.
For an instant, the young man's cheek
paled, as his gaze fell on the motionless
form of his mysterious visitant, old forgot
ten visions of the supernatural rustling
across his heated mind. Wliat did she
there, breaking upon his midnight vigils?
Did not the long veil hide from mortal
gaze the features radiant in the purity of a
celestial world' Wmle the thought rose
in the gazer s neart, his cheek paled; for
a vague vision connected the trait form be- into the listeners ear, betrayed the Duch
fore him with tne object of his dreams, ess's cognizance of the scene of the past
And what did itforbode that silent watch night. A deep Hush overspread the fair
upon his actions? j cheek of Dorothea, as it was followed by
As if conscious of the communings, the a volley of vituperation from the beautiful
figure advanced from the gloom, and ap- lips of her scornful friends; and the large
proacuing me easei, seated nersell silently
oetore it, dinging back the long drapery
from her face, as she did so. The gen
Us rustling of her garments made the only
sound to break the dead silence; for the
breathing of the painter was inaudible in
the bewilderment of that revelation while
the hot blood rushed to his cheek and
Orow in that sudden revulsion of feeling,
uefore him, on his vacated couch, rested
. I .1 O -U I r
the form of the Scottish maiden Doro
thea!
AH this had been the action of a mo
mentthe next. Van Dyck had fallen on
fas knees before his beautiful visitant, in
gratitudj for her remembrancs of him.
i'here was a remnant of her noble pride,
iu the calm gesture of the young girl, as
she waved him to his task, and pointed to
his scattered pencils. Tint earnest, pas
sionless gize recalled the dreamer to him
self. The fair face turned towards him,
was lighted by so peaceful and guileless a
light, that the reality of her presence faded
from toe ideas of Van Dvck; and the holy
vision of the Saviour's mother rose before
him again. Bending reverential! before
her, as he approached the easel, the artist
conlmusu his task with a faltering hand;
but the calmness of his fair model com
municated itsalf to him by degrees, as he
proceeded; at its close, that midnight hour
found not two hearts beating, within the
Palace walls, more evenly ivi.h inward
peace than those drawn together in that
silent work. Four hours had passed, and
th early morning light fell upon the pale
features of the artist as he turned towards
his noble model, and laid his palette in si-
tenceainer teet. ins tasK was ended; a
work of beauty and inspiration, glorious
in its nvijesty, was given to the world, to
become hereafter the guiding star to the
fame of Van Dyck. A sense of the reali-
1 . I C . fill ii
ty of the passing scene rushed back upon '
the young man's heart, as he turned to
meet the clear, calm gaze of the Scouish
maiden; and stretcaing out his hand im-
plonngly, he stood s.rugglin lo frame !,
some expression of Wi.nd;rin grat-j
ittide, for the boon thus strangely granted !
him; bat, as if conscious of his intention, '
Dorothea rose, and drawing round her j
slight form the folds of her veil, bent a
long, eirnest look on the noble revelation '
of the Virgin Mother, and, without word
of adieu or explanation of her silence, gli- j
ded from the chapel, across the Palace '
grounds, and ascending the stone staircase, I
disappearing at the window from whence ,
she nad emerged.
Alas! for tiie poor visionary! For
inome:
it lie stood watching that form pass j
from his sight, with ihe last
CI rn r:rl i mr t
remnant of his wild hones: and then over-
t .
come widi exhaustion and excitement, fell
on the vacant couch, he rushed togaze
upon his work; and its glorious beauty
struck upon the heari of its ere tor, all
aspiring as were his visionings. A dream
of fame, of glorious distinction, rose before
him; and then a sudden thought by whose
aid he had advanced on t.iat high path
of fortune. Tne painter fell on his knees
before his creation, and wildly bursting
tears were his acknowledgments,
The close of an hour had brought corn-
posure and Van Dyck rose from his couch j
with a firm step and Hushed brow. W h .
can tell what had been the ponderings of
: that hour iu the teeming brain of the future
! noble master of imagery? He seated him-
self before his wriiiug materials, and, with
! an untrembling hand, traced a few lines;
and then, as il fearful of their consideration.
hastily
securing
them with their silken
string, went forth from his monastic studio,
and among the busy, stirring world
It was tlie province ot
the Grand Duch- !
billets addressed
ess D Aim v to open the
to the noble maiden's
under her charge;
j and that morning one was delivered 10
Iter, bearing the name of Lord Ruthveu's
fair daughter, the young Dorothea. Its
perusal alforded the bewildering discovc-;
ry of the following lines:
i ' Tell me if thou art
indeed an angel!
lelline it thoa wouidsi not drive inc
senseless - thou, who hast given me life
and hope wast thou a woman, or an
angel ot light, that burst upon my sight
: last niu-luf
Van Dvck.'
l For an instant sat the stately monitress,
' gazing upon the words, asking question of
nei
outraged d
ignuy, wu
i:ier
me meaning
of the
missive were
not a
jest at the
worst, a breach of courtly etiquette. But
with the thjug.it, cams a sudden reeollec-
tion ol the painter s singular introduction
the day before, and a vivid remembrance
of the half-veiled sarcasms of the slighted
companions of the fair culprit. '1 o de
cide was to act, and the presence of the
young girl was commanded before her
inquisitress. rew words ol explanation
suilieed, and the tale of deception poured
tears stood in her downcast eyes
And now yourdefence," broke from the
quivering lips of the stern monitress.
Then, and for the first time, the voice
of the culprit rose above the murmuring of
j her accusers is falstl
A momentary silence fell on all that firm
denial in the face of proof. The Duchess
had expected to have been met with tears
! and prayers for pardon; and then in her
I I .1: - i f I .t. ..
piouu uignuy, to nave cast irom ner uie
clinging form of the pleader; but at the
defiant tone of the defence at the over
throw of her pictured exultationburst
forth the fierce fire of the smouldering
passion. The story ol the deception rang
through the palace, calling for judgment on
the offender. Each hand held the stone
of aceu3a'.ion ga:nt the s:r c ceo s jppl.canl
and, ere night the verdict had been given,
which was to drive her forth from the side
of royalty, to seek shelter beneath the
roof of her Highland home.
Another midnight had coma around, to
bring rest and calm to light hearts, and
happy forgetfulness to the care.Iaden
Dorothea retired to her chamber for the
last time; but not unnoticed was she to
pass tho intervening hours before day. To
secure the culprit from a repetition of the
secret meeting with the painter, the Duch
ess had placed a guard at the door of the
apartment. The midnight hour struck,
and the echoes rang in the heart of more
than one listener in the palace. A step
approached the apartment of the Duchess,
and a hurried summons called her from
her sleepless bed. Dorothea had been
overheard to pace her room with cautious
steps and the window had been gently
opened to admit her egress upon the bal
cony. A moment sufliced to collect the
excited watchers for that second act of
deception. Flambeaux were procured.
and an exulting throng poured forth from
the palace gates in pursuit of the truant.
Onwards through the grounds among
flowers lushing beneath the tall trees, the
hostile band followed the track of the
fugitive neared the monastery passed
noiselessly across the portal, and burst
into the chapel, confronting the p unter at
his silent task; the eded maiden seated
before htm. The vivid light, the tramp
of many fee, stai tied the former frcra Ids
visions and recalled him to earth. Upon
the beautiful truant the effect was mure
startling; springing from the couch, her
hands clasping her fair brow, her eyes
lighted by wild terror, a cry of intense fear
broke from her lips. At the sound, all
rushed to gaze upon the convulsed features;
while
the truth burst simultaneously on
heart in that revelation, teaching a
each
lesson of reoentance for the ast of tvran
i
ny and distrust: calling up, in many long
dormant feelings of human k ndness.
T.iey looked on a somnambulis:! T.ius
had she been led in her dreams to beeome
the inspiration of th a unconscious paiuter
thus led him onward in his path of lame,
And need it be told that his creation wen
for him tlie yearned for prize; and far more,
laid the foundation of his greatness. What
need it to be told that, a few months from
the passing of these scenes, there was
celebrated the marriage of the painter Van
DycK, and Dorothea, the beautuul Virgin'
of his dreams.
among her
highland fast-
n esses
t
A Bii of Romance.
English paper has tlie following
An
story; A strange statement is afloat in the
gossiping circles it is that a beautilul
English widow of great wealth is dingcf
love for Blanqui, the famous conspirator.
Before he got himself caged up for the
allair of tlie I5di of May, til n jui used 1 1
preside over a debating club held in the
Conservatoire. To tnis club the lady went;
and the gaunt looks, wild energy and in
describable fascination which the man ex-
erases over all who approach him, went '
straight to ths unoccupied heart of the
I Englishwoman. She became a regular
; attendant at the
rn
club, in tne hope of at-
j tracting the attention of the areh-conspira-
' fvi Kill fil-innni nation I nrvf KriffKt
tor.
eyes
had no charm lor him.
I
1 o
o
excite
t his iuterest she sent him a
boa net.
and
' I -I I . . L " .
anomer una auoiuer; out tne conspirator
threw t le n a.viy wit t a contemptuous
pshaw!' and never even condescended to
inquire irom whence they came, with
t woman's usual perversity, the more she
was slighted the more shebecame smi.ten;
I and with woman's usual ingenuity she at
n j length after many efl'orts, succeeded with-
e I out any violation of decorum, in getting
introduced to ISIanqui, and even m persua- ;
ding him to appear at her table, though he '
would not accept any thing else than a j
lump of bread, a few lettuce leaves and a i
glass of water his only food. The man!
is a thorough Spartan. And when at last
he was replaced in dungeon in which he has J
passed so many years of his life, she paidj
him every attention she possibly could.
During his trial at Bourges she was there; :
and now that he is cooped up again tor
many years to come, she is his principal
correspondent, and even, it is said, enter
tains hopes of becoming his wife.
She Bears.' The principal of an
Academy, in an advertisement, mentioned
his female assistant, and the 'reputation
for teaching which si.e bears;' but the
printer careless fellow left out the
which' so the advertisement went forth,
commending tne lady's reputation for
teaching she bears.1
Opolknce. A rich officer of revenue
one day asked a man of wit, what sort of
a thing opulence was.'
lt is a thing, replied the philosopher,
'which can give a rascal the advantage
over an honest man.
The Wouirn of Hungary.
Patriotism and true love of country, ars
the great charach r ti s of the nob'e m i
irons of Hungary. Ladies of the highest
rank, as well as those of the humblest ori
gin, all mingled together in a maternal bond,
of a'diane, stand forth as the encouragers
of the inartrrs of the republic. The young
Countess Cs;iky has been foremost in the
bloody ttrugxle; she raised a regiment of
volunteers at her own expense, and is ac
tually in command of it. The adjutant is
also a lady of rank, and is her sister.
They dress in the uniform of officr rs
Hungarian jacket, blue panta'oons, aud a
large sword at their side. Watch-fires
surround t':eir tent, and seu inels I.cp
guard throughout the night. Before the
Countess retires for the night, she writes
despatches to all her officers, giving them
orders, and if any spy brings a repjrt of
an advance of the enemy, she is at once at
the head of her divisions. With the
most wonderful talent, she lays the plans
for the surprise of her enemy. To the
discomfiture of the foe, her commands arc
carried out confidently and strictly. The
animated patriotism of this noble wemat
inspiies such enthusiasm amongst the s 1
diers, that each one beeomes a hero in hi
courageous desire to out do in deeds of
daring, his compatriot. The skill in ma
noeuvring displayed by these heroic women
is wondc.ful, and in many instances the
enemy have surrendered without a blow.
Not the less efficient are many other ladies
who are not quite so famous in arms; every
where the angelic presence of the women
is visible, saving the soldiers from thejaws
of death. European American,
S ick lo your BaiM j ss.
If you have set up in bu-dn3S3, but do
nzl succeed as weli us. you anticipated, be
no: anxious to chinge. Sdck to your
business, and the long run, you will have
no naon to regret it. Call to mind the
rich and successful men of your acquain
tance, and you will find they ill commen
ced business and stuck to it year in and
year out in dull timas as we I as in pros-
I e.ous times.
1 he changing he uneasy
j never seem to get aneuo, out are forever
j 1 1 the suds. It is difficult to hnd a man
i who has pursued a regular business for a
dozen ycrrs, who has net prospered and
, made money. He in iy hve lost itaga:n.
by bad debis or endorsements, or specula-
tions, but in business he was pro p.-rous.
To you, joung man, we would say,
stick to your business. Be not easiiy
persuaded to make a change, no matter
how golden the prospects held out to you.
You ;.re sure and safe wh-Te you are. In
another situation, you may be ruined.
j Tnousunds may have failed by a change,
where a score have made tiiUr fortune.
Tnere is no danger, if you stick to your
busiLCS1, are economical, and d i not credit
too muc i. Credit is the ruin of hundreds.
At le.stten percent, of all you sell on
credit you may put down as Icsr. Before
) ou ihus venture .rust A r your goods, it
will be well to count .he iost. By pru
dence and indus.ry by a careful loo. out
by being cons. ant at vour Lusiness, we
see no reason why you may not calculate
! upon success. We arc sure you will not
lad, while you attend to your own affairs,
and let speculations aud wild schemes
alone.
Pat's Xalioacf the Future Stale.
It is to be apprehended that the notions
of many in Christendom are not a great
deal more just, or elevated than appears in
the following case which occurred on the
frontiers of Maine, between Jemmy McGee
and Pat McGarlin.
Pat being called to visit his neighbor
i Jemmy McGee, and hear his last words
j of farewell btfjre 'shuttling off this mortal
coit, he donned his best suit of clothes,
smoothing his usual cheerful phiz, into
unusual gravity, and made his appearance
at the bedside of his old friend. Upon
meeting nim Pat exclaimed:
Vell Jemmy 1 understand the doctors
have given you up.'
Jim 'Yes Pat, it's over wid me.
Pat (after a pause) Well Jemmy, ye
haven't been a great sinner, ye'll go 10
the good place.
Jim Uh yes, Pat to be sure I stole
some of the government timber.'
Pat (taking Jemmy's hand and assu
ming a diplom .tie air,) 'Well, farewell
to ye; when ye reaches the good place tell
them you're well acquainted wid Pat Mc
Garlin. Here Pat started for the door, but, as if
suddenly thinking of Jemmy's dishonesty
in stealing the government timber he
wheeled around to bis friend, and seriously
and earnestly exclaimed
'But Jemmy, if anything happens to ye
that je should go to lhA other place, jist
tll them ye don't knoto devit a word
ESThe harvest in Canada is favorably
spoken of by the Toronto Globe