4 1 .
t •
1 1 'IA
-
• A •
BY JAMES CLARK
VOT,, XTIT, NO. 2.
TERMS
The " HUNTINGDON JOURNAL" will be
pupliehed hereafter at the following rates, viz
1111.75 a year, if paid in advance; $2.00 if
paid during the year,and $2.50 if not paid un
til after the expiration of the year. The above
terma to he adhered to in all case..
No subscription taken for less than six months,
end no paper discontinued until all arrearages are
paid, unless at the option of the publisher.
ci:j . To Clubs of six, or more, who pay in ad
vance, the Journal will be sent at *1.50 per
copy for one year; and any one who will send us
that number of names accompanied with the money.
shall receive the Journal one year for his trouble.
CHEERING NEWS.
DAROER & MORROW having purchased
tho stock of goods lately owned by Joule
Power' & Co.and rented their old and well known
stand, respectfully beg leave to inform those who
desire to purchase
CHEAP GOODS,
that they are now receiving a splendid addition
to their present Leavy supply, which enables them
to say, without boasting. that their establishment
'eunnot be surpassed in Lewistown, either in the
excellence anal variety of their assortment of all
kind. of goods, or the
Lowness of their Prices.
As seeing is Ire'ieving. they most cordially invite
all to come and examine for themselves. Their
goods will be exhibited by polite and attentive
salesmen. whose pleasure it wall ever be to wait
cheerfully upon those who may favor them with a
call, and endeavor to gain their confidence by fait•
dealing. Here
Cloths, Cassimeres, Satinelts 4.
Vesting,
of every hue and shade may be found, to please
the most fastidious taste.
Ladies' Dress Goods in endless variety; con
sisting in part of silks, satins, plain and figured;
cashmeres, mous de !wines, ('aledmria, Lama, Cal
ifornia, Jenny Lind and Opera plaids; English
and French inerinoes; alpacas, striped and plain;
lustres, and a splendid assortment of calicoes at
unusually low prices.
Ladies' and Getilleniens . Scarfs Terkeri,
cashmere, blanket, and home-made shawls; rib
bons, fringes, gimps, and trimmings of all kinds,
together with a beautiful assortment of fancy goods.
A fine stock of
Boots and Shoes,
lace boots and slippers, metallic and gui
shoes. Hate and eaps:and any quantity of
Ready:illude Clothing,
at ouch prices as cannot fail to please the moat care•
fat purchnocr, and cause even the Jews to be amn•
zed!!! _ _
Groceries of all kinds; Hardware, Cedar-ware,
Queensware, Nails and Spikes, Iron of all sizes,
and every variety of Steel. Also, Plaster, Salt
and Fish constantly on hand.
In short, everything useful and ornamental may
he found at this establishment that W usually wen
ted by the community. and at such prices as only
require comparison with the prices of similar Atli
des elsewhere. to enable the purchaser to decide
that he has lost nothing in buying of 13.titaztt &
Nlouttow.
TO F.ARIVIERS
The highrst price will be paid in CASH for
Wheat, live, Corn, Cloverseed, Oats, &c. All kinds
of marketing taken in exchange for Goods.
PURCHASERS may confidently rely that all
articles sold here will prove to be as represented, if
not, they con be returned and the money will be
refunded.
BARGER & MORROW.
Lewistown, January 4, 1848.
MORE NEW GOODS!
At the Cheap Corner !
THE subscriber has just received
another large and well selected stock
of WINTER GOODS, among which
may be found all kinds of
ladies Dress Goods.
ALL KINDS Of STAPLE DRY-GOODS
A splendid assortment of Calicoes at low
er prices than ever was known.
Boots and Slioes—Caps and Bonnets :
.MUFFS and MITTENS; also,
liewdware, fineensware and
Grticeries.
Persons wishing to purchase CHE.RP
GOODS, will find that they will be ac
commodated at the Cheap Corner. Goods
shown with pleasure at all times; they
shall be thrown down on the counter
end therefore save you the trouble of
pointing them out with the yard stick.
Thankful for past favors, I still hope to
receive a liberal share of public patron
age. JNO. N. PROWELL.
"CHEAP Comm',"
Huntingdon, Dec. 21, 1847.5
di OTIC
THE stockholders of the Juniata Bridge com•
pany in Huntingdon county, are hereby no
tified that an election will be held at the house of
C. Couts, in the borough of Huntingdon, on
Tuesday the eleventh day of January next, for
the purpose of electing one President, six mana
ger. and one Secretary and Treasurer, to manage
the concerns of said company for the ensuing year,
d2l-te.l JAMES GWIN, Sec'y.
siiamrs.
SOME time inNovember last there
came to the residence of the sub
scriber living in Franklin township,
Huntingdon county, one red and white
steer, about three years old, and one red
and white and one brindled heifer, about
three years old. The owners thereof
are hereby requested to come forward,
prove property, pay charges and take
them away, or otherwise they will be
disposed of according to law.
d2l-3t.] JONA. M'\VILLIAMS.
PRIVATE SALE.
THE subscriber offers for sale a tract
of land situated in Tyrone township,
Blair county, three miles from Tyrone
Forges, containing One hundred and ten
acres, the principal part Limestone Land,
in a high state of cultivation, with wa
ter in all the fields except one '
• a Foun
tain Pump at the barn, and running
water at the house. The improvements
are—Two Dwelling Houses, a
.. good Bank Barn and Stable, a
iii Cabinet Makers' Shop, Wagon
House, Carriage House, Cider
Mill, and other out-buildings, all sub
stantial and in good repair. Also, a
new Draw Kiln for burning Lime.
There is also on this farm an : t sv
Orchard of Two Hundeed apple 4 54.4%
Trees nearly all of the very best j
grafted fruit. ri
_ _
r, The Central Railroad will pass
within three miles of the above property.
JAMES E. STEWART. •
Nov. 30, 1847-tim.
THE GREAT CENTRAL
L.r—C
HAT AND CAP STORE,
Wholesale and Itched,
No. 284 Market Street, Ninth door above Eighth
Street, South side,
PHILADELPHIA,
Comprises onebf the largest and most beautiful as•
sortmeut of HATS, CAPS and MUFFS in the
Union, and of the latest and most approved styles,
manufactured under the immediate superintendence
of the Subscriber, i.t the beat manner, of prima
materials, and will be sold at the lowest possible
prices for cash.
The assortment embraces a splendid variety of
Silk, Moleskin, Beaver, Brush, Russia, Nutria,
and other HATS of beautiful finish, and a complete
stock of all kinds of Cloth, Glazed, Fur and Plush
CAPS, of the most desirable patterns, together with
a supply of Muff's, Furs, Buffalo Robes, &c.
Country Merchants and others are respectfully
invited to examine the stock, which they will find
it their advantage to do before purchasing, as it is
his determination, having adopted the cash system.
to sell for Cash only, and at the lowest prices.
dec7•6m.] JOHN FAREIRA, Jr.
A n toU I. CA lAA V!
A GREA'r number of valuable lives were very
_A nearly sacrificed in the rush to H. K. Noir
& B1111':4 WATCH & JEWELRY STORE in
Markel Square.
There you will see Cold and Silver Levers of
every style, quality and price. Also, gold fob,
chains, guard chains and keys of every descriptlon.4
Breast Pins and finger rings in great variety; gold
and silver pencils, silver thimbles, tooth and nail
blushes, steel beads, clasps for bogs end purses,
purse silk. spectacles, accordions, gold pens of su
perior quality, pen holders, a fine assortment of
Caney stationery. motto wafers, fancy boxes, perfu
mery, Diarie s for 1848, envelopes, &c. &c.
. .
Call and examine, before it is too late. Clock
and Watch repairing done as usurd,llllti warranted.
ELLWOOD SHANNON,
Dealer iss Teas,
Warehouses 63 Chesnut above Second and Elev.
emit and Chesnut Streets, Philadelphia,
AS constantly in Store, a ehoich as.
H
sortment of Fresh Imported,
GREEN AND BLACR. TEAS.
Country Merchants are invited to call at 63
Chesnut street, and examine his stock, which ho
(Airs nt the lowest wholesale prices, for Cash. and
where ho attends personally. (d7.6m,
.11DOLLAISTR.1TORS' NOTICE.
Estate of Richard Bradley, late of Cass
township, deceased.
L . •
ETTERS of administration having
been granted to the undersigned on
said estate, all persons having claims
against the same are requested to present
them for settlement, and those indebted
are requested to make immediate pay
tnent to them. GEO. HUDSON,
JONA. MILLER,
dec2B-6t.]
SADDLE, HARNESS AND TRUNK
JILIATIF.ICTOIR
ffrcbctick Breit,
R"PEGI FULLY returns thanks t.) his
friends and the public for past favors, and
takes this °ppm (unity to inform them that ho still
continues at the old stand, one door east of Car
moues Tavern, and nearly opposite the Post Of
fice, where he is at all times prepared to manufac
ture All kinds of Harness, Saddle:, Trunks, Mat
tresses, Sofas, Cushions, etc. etc., at the shortest
notice and most reasonable pricer.
_ .
All kinds of hides and skins, and country pro.
duce, for which the highest market prices will he
allowed, taken in exchange.
Huntingdon, Aug. 31, 1347.
Full all Mastery Goods.
UWIM a 7- 11/glia o OCYII@o
Importers and Dealers in Silks, Ribbons
and Mil Unary Goods, .No. 45 South
Second Street, Philadelphia,
ARE now opening for the Fall Trade a very
rich assortment of Mil Unary Goods, a largo
proportion of which are of their own importation,
viz:—Bonnet Silk., figured and plain.
Bonnet Satins, of all colors and gualties. •
Fancy Bonnet and Cap Ribbons, a very hand
some assortment.
Silk Plush..
Silk Velvets, black and colored, of all qualities
French and American Arrificiol Flower..
Riney Laces, Cap Stuffs, Lace Trimmings.
Bonnet Crowns, Tips, Buckram., Willows, Pre.
They have also received by the late arrivals a
very beautiful assortment of Fancy Feathers, direct
from the manufacturers in Paris.
Phila. sept. 7, '47.
[CORRECT PRINCIPLES-817PPORTE0 BY Tit/TIT.]
HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, JANUARY 11, 1848.
THE STORY OF THE BELL.
BY CLARA CUSHMAN
The village was small, and the church
was not a cathedral, but a quiet, unos
tentatious, stone chapel, half covered
by climbing plants, and a forest of dark
trees round it. They shaded the inte
rior so completely in the summer after
noons, that the figure of the altar piece
—painted, the villagers averred, by Al
brecht Durer—could scarcely be distin
guished, and rested upon the broad can
vass a mass of shadowy outlines.
A quaint carved belfry rose above the
trees, and in the bright dawn of the
Sabbath a chime sweet and holy floated
from it, calling the villagers to their de
votions ; but the bell whose iron tongue
gave forth that chime was not the hell
that my story speaks of—there was an
other, long before that was cast, that
had hung for years,
perhaps a century,
in the same place. But now it is no lon
ger elevated ; its tongue is mute, for it
lies upon the ground at the foot of the
church tower, broken and bruised. It is
half buried in the rich mould, and there
are green stains creeping over it, eating
into its iron heart : no one needs it now,
for those who had brought it there are
sleeping coldly and silently all around
in the church-yard. The shadow of
these dark trees rests on many graves.
How came the old bell to be dins ne
glected? A new generation arose—
" See," they said, 44 the church where
our parents worshipped fall to decay.—
Its towers crumble to dust. The hell
has lost its silver tone; it is cracked, it
is broken. We will have a new tower,
and another bell shall call us to our wor
ship."
So the old belfry was destroyed, and
the old bell lay at the foundation. It was
grieved at the cruel sentence, but it
scorned to complain; it was voiceless.
They came weeks after to remove it ;
the remains would still be of use ; but
strive as they would, no strength was
able to raise the bell. It had grown pon
derous ; it defied them ; rooted to the
earth as it seemed.
"They cannot make me leave my post,"
thought the bell. "[ will still watch
over this holy spot; it has been my care
for years."
Time passed, and they strove no lon
ger to remove the relic. Its successor
rang clearly from 'the tower above its
head, and the old bell slumbered on, in
the warm sunshine and the dreary storm,
unmolested and almost forgotten.
The afternoon was calm - but the sun's
rays were most powerful. A brieht, no
ble boy had been walking listlessly un
der the whispering trees; he was in
high health, and was resting from eager
exercise, for there was a flush upon his
open brow, and as he walked he wiped
the beaded drops from his forehead.
Ah, here is the place," he said : " I
will lie down in this cool shade, and
read this pleasant volume." So the
youth stretched his wearied limbs upon
the velvet grass, and his head rested
near the old bell ; but lie did not know
it, for there was a low shrub with thick
serrated leaves and fragrant blossoms
spreading over it, and the youth did not
care to look beyond.
Presently the letters in his book be
gan to grow indistinct; there was a
mist creeping over the page, and while
he wondered at the marvel, a low, clear
voice spoke to him. Yes it called his
name, "Novalis."
"I am here," said the lad, though he
could see no one. He glanced upward
and around, yet there was no living crea
ture in sight.
"Listen," said the voice. "I have
not spoken to mortal for many years.—
Illy voice was hushed nt thy birth.—
Come, I will tell thee of it." Tho youth.
listened, though he was sadly amazed.
He felt bound to the spot, and he could
not close his ears.
"Time has passed swiftly," said the
voice, "since I watched the children
who are now 'men and women, at their
sports in the neighboring forest. I look
ed out from my station in the old tower,
and morning and evening beheld with
joy those innocent faces, as they ran
and bounded in wild delight, fearless of
the future, and careless of the present
hour. They were all my children, for I
had rejoiced at their birth; and if it was
ordained thut the Good Shepherd early
called one of the lambs to His bosom, I
tolled not mournfully, but solemnly at
the departure. I knew it was far better
for those who slept thus peacefully, and
I could not sorrow for them.
I marked one, a fair, delicategirl, who
often separated herself from her merry
companions. She would leave their noi
sy play, and stealing with her book and
work through the dark old trees, would
sit for hours in the shadow of the tow
er. Though she never came without a
volume, such an one as just now you
were reading, the book was often neg
lected ; and leaning her head upon her
hand, she would remain until the twi
light tenderly veiled her beautiful form,
wrapt in a deep, still musing. I knew
that her thoughts were holy and pure—
often of heaven, for she would raise her
eyes to the bending sky, jewelled as it
was in the evening hour, and seem in
prayer, though her lips moved not, and
the listening breezes could not catch a
murmured word.
But the girl grew up innocent as in
her childhood, yet with a rosier flush
upon her cheeks, and a brighter lustre
in her dreamy eye. I did not sec her so
often, but when my voice on the bright
Sabbath morning called those who love
the good Father to come and thank him
for his wondrous mercy and goodness,
she was the first to obey the summons; 1
and I watched the snowy drapery which
she always wore, as it fluttered by the
dark foliage, or gleamed in the glad
sunshine. She did not come alone, for •
her grandsire ever leaned upon her arm, '
and she guided his uncertain steps and
listened earnestly to the words of wis
dom which he spoke. Then I marked
that often another joined the group—a
youth who had been her companion
years ago, when she was a very child.
Now they did not stray as then, with
arms entwined, and hand linked in hand ;
but the youth supported the grandsire,
and she walked beside him, looking tim
idly upon the ground, and if by chance
he spoke to her, a bright glow would
arise to her lips and forehead.
Never did my voice ring out for a
merrier bridal than on the morn when '
they were united, before the altar of this
very church.—All the village rejoiced
with them, for the gentle girl was as a
sister and a daughter; all said that the
youth towhoin she had plighted her troth
was well worthy of the jewel he had
gained. The old praised, and the young
admired, as the bridal party turned to
wards their home, a simple, vin e-shaded
.
cottage, not a stone's throw front where
thou art lying. They did not forget the
God who bestowed so much happiness
on them, even in the midst of pleasure;
and often they would come in the hush
of twilight, and kneeling by the altar,
give -thanks for all the mercies they had
received.
Two years—long as the period may
seem to youth—glide swiftly past when ,
the heart is not at rest. Then once more
n chime floated from the belfry. It was
at early dawn, when the mist was lying
on the mountain's side, and the dew hid
trembling in the hare bells, frighted by
the first beams of the rising day. A son
had been given them, a bright, health-
Gil babe, with eyes blue as the mother's ,
who elapsed him to her breast, and ded
icated him with his first breath to the
Parent who had watched over her or
phaned youth, and had given this tress
ore to her keeping.
That bright day faded, and even came
sadly upon the face of nature. Deep
and mournful was the tone which I flung ;
upon the passing wind and the fir trees
of the forest sent back a moan from their
swaying branches, heavily swaying as
if for syntpathy. Life wns that day
given, but another hnd been recalled.—
The young mother's sleep wns not bro
ken even by the wailing voice of her
first born, for it was the repose of death.
They laid her beside the very spot
where she had passed so many hours;
and then 1 knew it wns the grave of her
parents which she so loved to visit.
The son lived and the father's grief
abated when lie saw the boy growing
into the image of his mother ; and when
the child, with uncertain footsteps, had
dared to tread upon the velvet grass, the
father brought him to the church-yard,
and clasping his little hands as he knelt
beside him, taught the babe that lie had
also a Father in lleaven.
I have lain since that time nlmost by
her side, for my pride was humbled when
they removed me from the station I hnd
so long occupied. My voice has been
hushed from that sorrowful night even
till now, but I am compelled to speak to
thee.
Boy ! Boy ! it is thy mother of whom I
have told thee! Two lives were given
for thine ! thy mother, who brought
thee into the world—thy saviour, who
would give thee a second birth—they
have died that thou mightest live : and
for so great a sacrifice how much will
be required of thee ! See to it that thou
art not found wanting when a reckoning
is required of thee."
Suddenly as it had been borne to his
ears the voice became silent. The boy
started as from a deep sleep and put his
hand to his brow. The dew lay damp
upon it—the shades of evening had
crept over the church-yard ; and he could
scarce discern the white slab that mark
ed the resting-place of his mother. It
may have been a dream—but when he
searched about him for the old bell, it
was lying with its lip very near to the
fragrant pillow on which he had reposed.
Thoughtfully and slowly the boy went
towards his home, but though he told no
one, not even his father, what had be
fallen hini, the story of the old bell was
never forgotten, and his future life was
influenced by its remembrance.
THE CASTLE OF UHAVUTEPEC
The following description of the Cas
tle of Chapoltepec; near the city of Mex
ico, is contained in a letter from Lieut.
A. G. Sutton, of the 15th infantry, who,
with his two sons, fought and greatly
distinguished theinselveS in the battles
of the 2,oth of August and 13th of Sep
telpher. The letter was written to a
gentleman in this city, without any idea
of its publication. It is dated Colegia
Minter, City of Mexico, October 30,
184.7. He says :
Not having seen any attempt at a de
scription of the castle we now garrison,
I will try to give you a brief sketch of
it, though, from the limited time I have
to write, it will undoubtedly be very
imperfect. The great Castle of Chnpol
tepee—the COLEGIO MILITAR, or West
Point, of Mexico—is situated about two
miles westwardly from the capital, on
the summit of an abrupt bluff, which
suddenly lifts itself from the valley to
the altitude of 150 feet perpendicularly.
The bluff is steep and rocky, and cover
ed with small stumps of trees and a low
undergrowth of brambles and shoots ;
the large trees having been cut away,
to be out of the range of their artillery.
The whole fortress, or work of defence,
is about 300 yards in length, and the
terreplein and main buildings about 600
feet.
The castle is about 40 feet high, and
the whole structure,including the wings,
bastions, parapets, redoubts, and batter
ies, Is very strongly built, and of the
most splendid architecture. A splendid
dome decorates the top, rising in great
majesty about '2O feet above the whole
' truly grand and magnificent pile, and
near which is the front centre, support
ed by a stone arch, upon which is paint
ed the coat-of-arms of the republic,
where once floated the tri-colored ban.
ner, but is now decorated by the
gluri
ous stars and stripes of our own happy
land. Two very strongly-built stone
walls surround the whole; and at the
west end, where we stormed the works,
the outer walls arc some ten feet apart,
and twelve or fifteen feet high, over
which we charged by the help of fas
eines. It was defended by heavy artil
lery, manned by the most learned and
skilful gunners of their army, including
some French artillerists of distinction.
The infantry force consisted of the offi
cers and students of the institution, and
the national guards, and chosen men of
war of the republic—the whole under
the command of General Bravo, whom
see mate prisoner. The whole hill is
spotted with forts and outposts, and
stone and mud walls, which were filled
with their picket or castle guard. A
huge high stonewall extends around the
whole frowning craggy mount, and an
other along the southeast base, midway
from the former nod the castle. A wall
ed paved road leads up in a triangular
form to the main gate entering the south
terreplein ; and the whole works are in
geniously and beautifully ornamented I
with Spanish fastidiousness and skill.
A view of Chapoltepec, the residence
of the once powerful prince Montezuma,
as you come down the sunny valley of
Anahuac, is a sight the most enchant-
ing in the open volume of natures de
lightful scenery. A mountain range en
circles this lovely valley, the uneven
rugged peaks of whose bluffs, like the
gems of India, are ever and anon lit up
by the freaks of sun-shine, that drive
the dark shades from their gorges, and
play in sportive majesty on their proud
summits Popocataptl is in full view
southeastwardly from us. This was
formerly a volcano; but for a long time
has been slumbering. She will, doubt
less, again vomit up her fiery bowels up
on the pleasant valleys that lie like car
pets at her rugged base. She is cover
ed with perpetual snows, upon which
the rays of the sun fall with a lustre
that dazzles brighter than the jewels of
Golconda.
Two calm glassy lakes, Tescuco (salt)
and Chalco (fresh water) ornament the
scenery, closing the capital in a womb
of waters, like the ancient city of Tyre.
Ornamental shrubbery, splendid acque
ducts, arches, cisterns, and sculptured
stone statuary decorate the avenues and
main entrances to the city. Three cost
ly and ingeniously made acqueducts
convey the water from the highlands to
the grand plaza, and the whole land
scape is dotted with haciendas and mod
est little churches, whose spires glitter
through the green trees with a silver
sheen quite ravishing. But nothing ex
cept convents, nunneries, cathedrals and
churches, has any prominence in the
view towards the city. Upon the whole
EDITOR AND i'RatlETOlt
- WHOLE NO. 624
a view from Chapultepec is like a View
from Etna—you fOl abote the world,
enraptured with the delightful Scenery
that fills your vision.
We had a grand revel in the halls of
the Montezumas on the eVening of the
28th October, and intend having anOth
Cr soon.
POT ER OF AVARICE,
The following narrative refers to the
Senior partner in the great New York
house, which lately became a bankrupt:
In early life, Mr. Prime was an ostler,
and was quite famous for the cleverness
with which he handled the curry-comb.
He married a Miss —, the offspring
of some successful worshipper of the
golden idol, and began to curry men in
stead of horses. When he had got un
it'aY,' and scraped together a few
thousand, he actually got an invitation
to a dinner party, where there were,
perhaps, two or three gentlemen ;though
as the dinner was given by a New York
financier, of course the conversation was
occupied with the all-absorbing topic of
money making. He eagerly entered in
to the conversation, and closed some
very shrewd remarks, observing—ii if
could borrow 435,000, I would double it
in six months, and return the principal
with seven per cent interest."
NN hat security can you givel" ask
ed one of the party, a planter from
Charleston.
The security of the word of an hon
est man," said the adventurer. "I have
none other to offer at present."
" You shall have the money," said the
planter.
Mr. P. realized as he expected, and
returned the loan. Years passed on, and
the "financial genieus ' earned his tens
of thousands and hundreds of thousands.
He served his master faithfully, and
verily he did not go without his reward.
But the planter in the meantime, had
met with sad reverses. He was a poor
man. He was on the verge of ruin, in
a worldly point of view. To save the
remnant or his estate, he came to New
York, in order to make an effort to raise
some money. He thought of Mr. P.—
He waited on the great New York bank
er. He asked a loan of $3,000;, it would
save him from utter destruction.
What security 1" demanded the
Christian Shylocli,
" Really, 11r. P., I must answer as
you answered me. I have nothing to
give but the word of an honest man!"
" Oh ! that be d-d l" said the most
righteous banker. " That won't go cur
rent in Wall street."
The rich man retires] from business
with a million, and " died as the fool
dieth," committing suicide under the
delusion that he was a poor man. Amid
all his wealth, horrid images of want
and famine, haunted the man of gold.
The Toil of a Newspaper.
Newspaper literature is a link in the
great chain of miracles which proves the
greatness of England and every support
should be givin to newspapers. The
editors of these papers must have a most
enormous tusk. It is not the writing of
the leading part itself, but the obliga
tion to write that article every week
whether included or not, in sickness or
in health, in affliction, disease of mind,
winter and summer, year after year,.
tied down to the task, remaining in one
spot. It is something like the walking
of a thousand miles in a thousand hours.
I have a fellow-feeling, for I know how
a periodical will wear down ones exis
tence. In itself, it appears nothing.—
The labor is not manifest, nor is it the
labor, it is the continual attention which
it requires. Your life becomes, as it
were, the publication. One week is no
sooner corrected, and printed, than on
conies another. It is the stone of Slay
phus, an endless repetition of toil, a
constant weight upon the mind, a con
tinual wearing upon the intellect and
spirit, demanding nll the exertion of
your faculties, at the same time that you
are compelled to do the severest drud
gery. To write for a paper is very
well, but to edit one is to condemns
yourself to slavery.—Maryatt.
A PR ETTYD r. P , who is
attached to the Parisan theatre in qual
ity of a physician, expressed his aston
ishment that man and women were not
created nt the same time, instead of the
latter springing from the rib of our first
parent. A young actress standing by,
remarkable for the graceful turn which
she gives to the expression of her ideas,
immediately said—" Was it not natural,
sir, for the flower to come after the
stem'!"
An Irish orator, speaking of an oppo
nent's love of praise, described him as so
vain in that respect, that he would be con
tent to give up the ghost, if it were but to
look up and read the stone-cutters puff on
his grave.