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BY. JAS. CLARK.
CHOICE POETRY
THE OLD TURNPIKE.
We hear no more the clanging hoof, •
And the stage coach rattling by;
For the steam king rules the travelled world,
And the old Pike's left to die.
The grass creeps o'er the flinty path,
And the stealthy daisies steal,
Where once the stage-horse, day by day
Lifted his iron heel.
No more the weary stager dreads
The toil of the coining morn;
No more the bustling landlord runs
At the sound of the echoing horn:
For the dust lies still upon the road,
And bright-eyed children play
Where once the clattered hoof and wheel
]tattled along the way.
No more we Lear the cracking whip,
Or the strong wheels rumbling round;
Ah ha, the water drives us on,
And an iron horse is found !
The conch stands rusting in the yard,
And the horse has sought the plow;
We hare spanned the world with an iron rail,
And the steam king rules us now !
The old Turnpike is a pike no more,
Wide open stands the gate;
We have made us a road for our horse to stride,
Which we ride at a flying rate.
We have filled the valleys and levelled the hills,
And tunneled the mountain's side,
And round the rough crag's dizzy verge,
Fearlessly on we ride!
em—on—on—with a haughty front,
A puff, a shriek, and a bound,
While the tnrdy echoes wake too late,
To babble back the sound.
And the old Pike-road is left alone,
And the stager's sought the plow ;
We Lave circled the earth with un iron rail,
And the steam-king rules us now!
MISCELLANEOUS
HUSBANDS AND WIVES.
Their Errors and Their Duties.
" Bat happy they, the happiest of their kind,
Whom gentle stars unite, and in one fate
Their hesrts, their fortunes, and their beings blend.
Marriage is said to be a lottery. It would seem
eo indeed in some cases, the contrasts are so ex
traordinary, and the circumstances so novel.—
But so solemn a compact, so sacred in the eyes of
heaven and the Law, and so calculated to affect
for "better" or for "worse," not only the tempor
al but the external happiness of the parties, should
not be thought of lightly, or determined upon rash
ly. We fear that in too many marriages, wordly
considerations are permitted to exercise a control
ling influence. Hands are united, not hearts.—
Pecuniary objects, and not harmony of sentiment
constitute the "motive power!" Matches are
made with reference to "an establishment," and
not to Rifle of pence, tranquility nod happiness.—
The best affections, the highest sympathies are tri
fled with, and sacrificed, if not sold, while the glit
ter of fashion and the pomp and vanity of worldly
display, conceal the breaking heart within. Hence
the frequent divorces—the unhappy homes, the
lonely and deserted wives, end dissolute and reck
less husbands. On the other hand, how many rush
into matrimony who do no not duly consider its
responsibilities, who take no note of the future:—
Controlled by a sudden fancy, influenced by a wild
impulse they hasten on, and find "too late," that
they have assummed a position to which they are
inadequate, that more nerve, patience, and perse
verance are necessary that they can command.—
The excitement, too, the delusion may have passed
away, and they are surprised to find imperfectiens
in the angel of their idolatry. They forget that
they themselves are human, fallible, full of errors,
and thus they cannot snake proper allowances for
others. They become petulant and peevish, harsh
and brutal, and the "rosy and sunny home" that
VMS pictured in "the day of streams," is converted
into a scene of strife and anger, of passion and
discord. They find themselves disappointed, sour
ed. The prospect has changed, and instead of dis
covering the cause iu themselves, instead of pursu
ing a magnanimous and manly course, they tarts
upon the "gentle one," into whose ears they "so
lately" poured fond vows and earnest protestations
and make her the source of all the bitterness and
vexation. Alas for the victim under such cir
cumstances! How, day after day, must her fairy
dream fade, and the withering reality of a longlife
of sorrow loom before her ! How, in her quiet
hours, she must remember her early home; and
the lavish love that she enjoyed beneath the pa
ternal roof! At times, too, she may recall a moth
er's lore—and feel disposed to unhu•thce her heart
and comminicate the secrets of her soul to the be
ing who watched over her cradle! And yet, why
disturb, why agonize unnecessarily—why commu
nicate a sorrow that will only pain and wring with
out the means of affording relief?
But there is another side of this picture. There
are gentle ones who forget or neglect their duties,
and who, by coldness and asperity, snake home a
scene of perpetual discord. The husband is wel
comed with frowns! Complaints are ever upper
most. Nothing satisfies. Toil on, by day or by
night, and still the murmur is the same. A pee
vish, a frettisl spirit seems to have taken possession
"of the better half," need after struggling in vain
against such a constant source of disquiet, the
hasband abandons his home in despair, and seeks
elsewhere for companionship, or at least for ex
emption from perpetual fault-finding. How fear-
ful this mistake on the part of young wives—bow
they trifle with affection—how they peril peace of
mind! The out-door world is full of care and
anxiety._ The struggle for the means of subsis
tence often taxes all the energies of body and mind.
The competition in trade, the rivalry in business,
the vicissitudes of chance and change, the perils
of misfortune, the treachery of friends ! Alas!
these seldom enter into the ordinary reflections of
a thoughtless wife, especially if she be vain, proud
and devoted to display. Her idols are false pride
inflated vanity, and a desire to creel; and if her
hnsband do not minister to every whim of the hour
if he hesitate to comply with her demands fur funds
if he venture to remonstrate against unnecessary
expenditures—anger, passion and invective are by
no means unusual. He may at the moment he
pressed to the earth by some sudden monetary
exigency, may require the exercise of extraordi
nary moral courage to maintain his position and
sustain his character—may need consolation, en
couragement and incentive to exertion, and instead
find reproachers, angry looks and harsh insinua
tions at home ! How many men have been mad
dened and ruined under these circumstances !
How in same sudden moment of excitement, have
they abandoned the control of their own fortunes
and yielded to the dark impulses of despair. Part
ners in trade are bound by the law of self-interest,
to say nothing of higher and noble considerations,
to assist and sustain each other by every honorable
means. How mach more incumbent, therefore,
is such a policy in partners for life, and between
those who have united themselves for better or
worse,—between man and wife, who have linked
themselves, not only ou grounds of affection and
principle, hut to a certain extent have made their
destinies one ! How essential the wisdom and the
duty of mutual forbearance, mutual assistance !
How important that each should strive to contrib
ute to the happiness of the other—to soothe the
sorrow, end to share the joy—to counsel and en
courage in a moment of adversity, to restrain and
subdue in the hour of prosperity ! The bond of
marriage, when entered into wisely, thoughtfull:-,
kindly and generously, is indeed the bond of af
fection, of concord end of happiness. But the
obligation is mutual, and while every husband of
a right mind and a right heart, will endeavor to
provide to the best of his ability for the necessi
ties and the comforts of the being of his choice
the wife should not forget the smile of welcome at
nightfall, the look and the manner of love that sub
dued and won. She should not forget the honor,
the interests the happiness and prosperity "of the
head of the household," and the source of all its
comforts !—Ploladelphia Inquirer.
The Root of Evil.
Dow, Jr. in the Sunday Mercury, thus discour
ses on the importance of money :
"My hearers—this is not only a great, but a
curious and mysterious world we live and pay rent
tor. All discord is harmony; all evil is good; all
despotism is liberty, and all wrong is right—for as
Alexander Pope says, 'Whatever is, is right,' ex
cept a left boot, and wanting to borrow money.
You may want sense, and the world won't blame
you for it. It would gladly furnish you the arti
cle, had it any to spare ; but, unluckily, it has
hardly enough for home consumption. However,
if you lack sense, you are well enough off, after
all; for then if you commit a "fox paw," as the
French say, you aro let go wills the compliment,
'Poor fool. ! he dosen't know any better !' Thu
truth is, a great deal of botheration. Au empty
skull is bound to shine in company, because the
proprietor of it hasn't sense enough to know that
there is a possibility of his making a nincompoop !
of himself, therefore he dashes ahead, hit or miss,
and generally succeeds beyond the bounds of all
expectation. Let a man he minus brains and
plats brass, and he is sure to pass through the
world us though he were greased from car to an
kle; but rig hint up a complete machinery of
thought, and it is as much as he can do to tend
it. He goes to his grave ruffled anti tumbled—
curses life fur its cares, and moseys hue eternity
packsaddled with mental misery. Oh ! for the
happiness of a fool."
Fops and Fools.
We once heard an English gentleman remark
that "the lowest style of a civilized man is found
in the British soldier," but we incline to think that
he had forgotten for a moment, that there was such
a thing in ebristendom as is DANDY. Except as a
subject for jesting, the poor creature is absolutely
good fur nothing. Here is an old epigram on him
that is tory good considering the poverty of the
sebject—
Your boots my friend, unlike to mine.
With polished lustre brightly shine ;
Had you bestowed such studious pains
To gloss the dullness of your bruins,
It would not then by all be mitt,
'How touch his feet eelypse his head!'"
"Is Your Name Brown I'9
Capt. W—, tells au amusing occurrence wit-,
nessed by him last week on board the steamer
`Ocean,' on lier dassage down. Au oldish and
somewhat purblind gentleman pacing up and down
the upper saloon, stopped in front of a large, 11111-
length mirror, and, utter gazing at the figure
presented, for a moment ur two, inquired in a
very deliberate tulle—"h—your—nainc—Breiria'
No answer. The question repeated louder—gel
Yoc NAME Batmen 1' Still no answer. QUeli
tion'again repeated louder still— . l6—YOUlt
NAME—BIIOWNV Still no answer,—`Well,'
said the questioner, 'you urn eitherno gentleman,
or cursed deg . t' saloon was in a roar.
'The Albany Knielterbucker tells of a young
man who recently died iu that city, el' disappoint
ed ambition—as 'he wanted to wear high shift
collars, and his mother wouldn't let him.'
HUNTINGDON, PA., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1850.
A HUMOROUS STORY.
Getting into the Wrong House.
"For me, I ndore
Some twenty or more,
And love them most dearly."
Such was the light air hummed by a young man
one evening in the month of September, between
the hours of seven and eight, as he turned into a
court leading ont of Wasbingtototrect, where was
his boarding house.
The character of the air suited we'll with the
appearance of the young blade, for as he turned
into the court the light of the lamp "illuminated"
him; he was tall, and somewhat slender, but fine
ly formed; his pale and handsome features, large
bright eyes, with dark circles around them, told of
lete hours and excitement.
His exterior frock-coat, buttoned at the top by
a single button, pants of snuff colored hue, white
vest, and chain fastened at its lower hole, attach
ed to the deuce knows what in his pocket, boots,
hat, and dickey of the latest fashion, and switch
cane, surmounted by a delicately carved lady's leg
in ivory, completed the rakish tout ensemble of our
young hero.
As we said before, he was humming a tune as
he went into the court. Passing up, lie ceased;
and his thoughts, if they had been uttered, would
have been something like this:
"Byron was a hard one; one of the b'hoys, de
cidedly; hang me, it' he wasn't the very personiti
' cation of his Don Juan—he went on the principle
'go it while you're young,' and he did 'go it' with
a vengeance."
During these cogitations, he reached, (us he
supposed,) his boarding house. Ascending the
steps, he sent his hand on an exploring expedition
in his pockets, and extracted an instrument resem
bling a portable poker with a joint handle. In
serting this instrument into a round hole in the
door, he effected an entrance.
On entering, he tens surprised at the disappear
ance of the hat tree, and a table in its place.
"Where the deuce is the hat tree gone to now,
I should like to know I" he mentally exclaimed,
throwing down his hat. "How awful quiet it is
just now," he continues?, proceeding towards the
sitting room. Finding it in total darkness, lie was
still More surprised.
"Juno ! is every body dead, I wonder ? Pit haw
some light 011 the subject," and with that deter
mination lie crossed the room to a mantle-piCeCiti
to search fur a match. Hu placed his }milli Ole
something that made him utter mt exclamation of
surprise.
"By everything Clint's blue, a lady's shoe; ex
traordinary events must have transpired during
'my absence—a sofa here I" he exclaimed, striking
against one under the nmtle-piece. "They hove
been pitching the personal estate around eta terri
ble rate. Al ! a baby's shoe ! Oh, mein Got, as
the Dutchman said."
"Charles, is that you?" whispered a soft voice
at the moment, and a warm hand clasped his own.
"Whew! what the deuce is to pay now?" he
almost ejaculated in surprise; but recovering him
self lie answered, in a whisper, "yes, dearest, it is
me—over the left," he said to himself.
"I sec how it is; Pm in the wroughox, and this
damsel thinks I'm Charles; no matter, l'lu in fur
it now, and might as well pat it through."
So thinking, he seated himself by her side, on
the sofa, with one hand clasped in hers, and an
arm around her waist.
"Charles," she said, "what made you stay so
late? I have been waiting for you this half hour."
"The deuce you have," thought he. "Indeed,
I am very sorry, but positively I could not come
sooner," he said.
"The folks have all gone away this evening,
and we will make the best of our time," said she,
squeeziug his hand.
"Yes, by Jere, we will," was the reply, as lie
embraced and kissed her several times.
f wonder who 1 am kissing in the dark," tho't
he, during the operation.
"Why, t' hen I should think you'd be asham
ed of yourself; you never did so before."
"This Charles must be a very bashful youth,"
thought our hero.
"Charles, you musn't do so !" she exclaimed.—
"What du you mean?"
"I'm making the hest of my time," was the in
nocent reply.
"You remember the last time I saw you, you
said you'd tell me to-night when we should be
married," said she.
A whistle nearly escaped the lips of Gus, (such
was the abbreviated sponsorial of our hero.) "1:
would say immediately," thought he, "but she
might mistrust, and it would be no go."
"The time, dearest," he replied, "shall be when
it will be most convenient for you."
"Oh, how glad I am," she exclaimed.
"What a pickle I would be in, if the folks should
pop in all of a sudden," he thought at that llW
ment, as he had at presentiment. As the thought
passed his mind, a latch key was hoard fumbling
at the door. At this ominous sound she sprang to
tier feet greatly frightened.
"Oh, dear!" was her exclamation, "what shall
I do? here come the folks."
"What shall / do ?" was the question of Gus,
as he sprang to his feet.
"Oh, dear oh, dear I" she bitterly exclaimed,
"where shall I hide you? There's no closet, and
, you can't get out of the room before the folks will
see you. There, the door is opening—qtdek—
hide under the sofa, it is 0 high one."
The didn't stop to look for a 'better place, but
popped down and commenced crawling under.—
progress was greatly accelerated by her feet,
' which she applied quite heavily te, his side.
t "Thunder! what a plantation she's got," said
Gus, as it came in contact with hie ribs.
Ile found the space under the sofa quite narrow;
so much so that he was obliged to lie on his face.
"Whew! they keep a cat in the house! Mist!
there they come—one—two—three daughters, the
old man and woman, and two gents, friends of the
ladies, I suppose. Here they are down on the so
fa. flow I would like to grasp one of those deli
cate little feet! Cods! she would think the devil
had her. I wonder how long I'vegot to stay here.
Hope the conversation will be edifying."
In this manner his thoughts ranonfor about an
hour. By that time, he found his situation any
thing but pleasant, not being able to move at all.
There was no signs of their departure, judging
from their conversation, which was lively and well
kept up; and not knowing how long he would be
compelled to stay in such uncomfortable quarters,
caused him to anatbemetiso them most severely.
lie finally became worried to such a degree, that
he accidentally let an oath slip through his lips.
"hark! what's that ?" exclaimed one, but the
others heard nothing.
"Jesu Maria!" thought Gus, "what a narrow
escape. If any of the others had heard it, I should
have been discovered, and then a pretty plight I
would be in. I would be taken for a burglar."
While thus congratulating himself on his escape,
a shawl belonging to one of the ladies, hanging
over the bock of the sofit, slipped behind. It was
soon missed, and a search commenced.
'•lt must have fallen behind the sofa," surmised
the thin owner.
"I will soon ascertain," said one of the young
rising lions the sofit.
one end of the soft, he whirled it nearly
into the middle of the room.
;0d,..! what a scream ! The ladies Noted away
at the sight of Gus lying on his face.
'Burglar! thief! robber!" shouted the head of
the house, retreating towards the door.
"Complimentary," said Gus, looking op.
The two young gentlemen promptly seized hint
and raised•him to his feet.
"Give an necount of yourself; bow came you
here?" were the questions put to bins.
'Thieves! robbers ! watch!" screamed all the
young ladies.
"Stop your noise," shouted the old gentleman,
as Gus commenced an apology.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Gus, you have
found me concealed under the sofa in a burglarious
manner, but 'pun my soul, it was for a different
t opose altogether."
lie then gave a lucid explanation, and in such
a manner that it set the old gentleman in a roar of
laughter. The girl was called in to be questioned
about the matter.
"I shall see now, at any rate, who I have been
skylarking with," thought Gus, as her step was
heard on the stairs.
A moment more, and a daughter of Ham, black
as the ace of spades, strode into the room. Such
an apparition of darkness struck our hero dumb.
Fur a moment he was a model of amazement; but
a roar of laughter from all in the room restored his
scattered senses, and he became fully aware of his
ridiculous position.
"Where's my hat 7" he faintly ejaculated, as he
rushed from the room.
Until sleep closed his eyes, did the roar of laugh ,
ter ring in his ears, and when sound asleep, a vin•
ion of the "negress" flitted before him.
Tricks Upon Animals.
In breaking or managing'a horse, however in
tractable or stubborn his temper may be, preserve
your own. Almost every fault of the brute arises
front ignorance. Ile patient with him, teach and
coax him, and in CV,. in time is certain. There
are tricks, however, which are the results ofconfir
med habit or viciousness, and these sometimes re
quire a different treatment. A horse accustomed
to starling and running away, may be enctually
cured by putting hint to the top of his speed on
such occasions, and running hint till pretty thor
oughly exhausted.
A horse that had a trick of pulling his bridle and
breaking it, was at last reduced to better habits by
tying him to a stake driven °tithe bank of a deep
stream, with his tail pointing to the water; he com
menced pulling at the halter, which, suddenly part
ed, over the bank he tumbled, and after a somer
set or two, and floundering, awhile iu the water, he
was satisfied to remain at his post in future and
break no more bridles.
A ram has beets cured of butting at even• thing
and every body, by placing an unresisting effigy
in a similar position; when the sudden assault on
a wintry day, resulted in tumbling his ramship into
a cold bath, which his improved manner took good
rare to avoid in future.
A sheep-killing dog has been made too nuu•h
ashamed ever again to look a sheep in the face, by
tying his hind legs to a stout ram on the brow of
a hill, while the duck were quietly feeding at the
bottom. On being free, and somewhat startled at
setting out in baste to rejoin his friends, he tum
bled and dammed master Tray so sadly over the
stones and gullies, that he was quite satisfied to
confine himself to cooked mutton thereafter.
Man's reason was given him to control "the
boasts of the field and the birds of the air," by
other means than brute force. if he will bring
this into play, be will have no difficulty in snorting
and overcoming, every emergency of perverse in
stinct or bad habit in the dumb thing by his supe
rior cunuing.--Ararrican Agriculturist.
IW - A rural poet in describinghis lady love, says
she is us graceful as a water lily, while her breath
smells like au armful of clover. His case is
certainly approaching a crisis.
How often we err in our conceptions of the
persons and things around us ! And yet, we are
always ready to depend implicitly upon our own
..jnrlginentA.
ri, r l
en/rift/4f
OLD WOMEN OF TUE 9 76 DOUSE.
Interesting Incidents.
What relates to Washington, and the war be
led in, can never be tiresome. Here is an incident
of a visit lately made by Lewis Gaylord Clark to
the "Old '7O House," at the village of Tappan,
and related in the editorial gossip of the July Knick
erbocker:
Arrived at the "Seventy-Six bates," we ex.
amined the room where Major Andre was coati.
ned, and from which he went forth to clic. Our
friend, and the jotter down hereof, were made hap
py. by a present, from the obliging proprietor of
the house, of two of the pictured tiles which com
pose a frame work around the fire place. Pock
eting these interesting mementos of the past, we
next repaired to an old, crumbling, low-roofed
mansion, once the head quarters of Gen. Wash
ington. We drew rein at the gate, and passed into
a little patch of meadow that lay between us and
the house. It was about half mown; the sweet
scented grass lay in swaths around; and where the
mower had stopped in his labors, there lay his
scythe and whetstone. Little faith had our com-
tnion that "Old Knick" could deftly wield that
instrument of "Old Tempus," but ask him now.—
Ask him if be didn't make the little meadow re
sound with the cling clang of the whetstone, and
len, seizing the sharpened instrument with long,
sweeping strokes, lay as close cut and clean a swath
around that field as he ever saw in his life. There
are several thing that we can't do—but we can
mow 1 Well, rejoicing in the glow which that best
of all exercise has given us, we next repaired to
the old house. It was more than a hundred years
Id and the very personification of decay. We
entered, and were cordially welcomed by its occu
pants, two elderly ladies, who were born in the
house. Nothing could be in more perfect keeping
ith the mansion than those two women. One
vas nearly eighty, and the other turned of seven
but both were most agreeably lively for persons
:o old, and were obligingly communicative.—
' , Many and many a time," said the elder of the
two, "in this very room, has Gen. Washington
held me in his lap. I remember it just as well as
if it was but yesterday. lle was a most lovely
man, Gen. Washington was—lovely ! Here," she
continued, going to a cupboard, "he used to keep
his things, and here's his very bowl he used to
make his wine sangnree into ; and used to pass it
round from one officer to another, when they come
to see him. He seen a good deal of company,
Gen. Washington did." We spoke of Major
Andre. "Oh," said the old lady, "I see him '
more'n fifty times. He was a handsome man, and
he was a kind man. I see him the very morning
they took him to the top of the hill to hang him.—
Every body felt sorry for him."
We asked how Gen. Washington seemed to feel
on the occasion. "Oh, he must ha' felt dreadful !
He walked back'ards and for'ards nil that morning
in this very room, and I've beard Pap Blauvelt
say that 110 never see him feel so bad afbre. lie
kept looking at his watch every now and then, and
was oncasy till the time had come, and Major
Andre was hung. I seen Major Andre myself
when he was a swingin' and I seen him when he
was dug up, and so did you, too, Polly, didn't
you 1" The old lady mentioned a circumstance
connected with the revolution and with this spot,
that struck us an interesting and somewhat instruc
tive. The enemy, it would seem, were in the hali-
it of coming sometime into the rich valley of Tap
pan and driving otF cattle, sheep, etc. "One day
Pap Blauvelt's nigger boy Jim, hearing some of
'em coming drove all our cattle into the swamp,
and when they came up he told 'emit° hadn't seen
no cattle, and so saved 'em. Pop Blanvelt liked
him so much for this, that he told him he might
have his liberty, but Jim wouldn't; be stayed with
him more'n forty years a'ter that." And thus these
good old people beguiled an hour with reminiscen
ces of the revolution, to sonic others of which we
may have occasion to refer to hereafter. Our ride
home in the evening was made doubly pleasant by
all that we had seen and heard, and we tetired to
rest to dream of other days, and of the "times
that tried men's souls."
The Discontented Dove.
The daughter of a poor, bat good and sensible
mother, was complaining to her that, when she
mixed with girls of her own age, she felt ashamed
of her plain attire. The mother, instead of re
monstrating with her daughter, read to her the
following table.
The dove appealed to its guardian genius, to
bestow upon it a gayer external.
"
Why is it," said she, "that I have only the
plain feathers, this unadorned plumage, While the
peacock and parrot shine in such fine and glitter
ing apparel?"
"Thou shah have what thou desirest, gentle
dove," said the genius; "hut remember, if thou
would'st shine like either the peacock or the parrot
thou must become like then in other respects.
Art thou, then, willing to resign thine own char
acter? Wouldst thou no longer ho my timid,
tender, loving dove, that thou might's become
vain and noisy as the peacock—chattering and
idle as the parrot ?"
"No," said the dove: "oh! no! kind genius;
I will not give up the characteristics which render
me thy care, and contribute so much to my hap
piness. "
The daughter looked up into her mother's face.
"And I, too," said she," will remain thy dove,
dear mother, and be satisfied with the gifts with
which my heavenly father has endowed me."—
Truth Teller.
""What are the chief suds of man?" asked
a school teacher of his pupils. "Head and feet,"
was the prompt reply. The teacher fainted.
VOL. XV.---NO. 44.
A Splendid Description
Patti Denton, a Methodist preacher in Texan,
advertised a barbecue, with better liquor than
usually furnished. When the people were assem
bled, a desperado in the crowd cried out, "Mr,
Paul Denton, your riverencc has lied: You prom
ised us not only a good barbecue, but better
liquor. Where is the liquor?" "There!" an
swered the missionary, in tones of thunder, and
pointing his motionless finger at the matchless
double spring, gushing out in two strong columns,
with a sound like a shout of joy from the bosom
of the earth. 'There !' he repented, with a look
terrible as the lightning, while his enemy actually
trembled ou his feet; there is the liquor which
God, the Eternal, brews for all- his children !
Not in the simineiing still, over smoky fires,
choked with poisonous gases, and surrounded
with the stench of siekening odors and rank cor
ruption, cloth your Father in Heaven prepare the
precious essence of life, the pure cold water.
But in the green glade, and grassy dell; where
the red peer wander, and the child loves to play,
there Gotl brews it, and down, low down in the
deepest valleys, where fountains rammer, and the
rills sing; and high upon the tall mountain tops
where the naked granite glitters like goad in he
sun, where the storm t eloud broods and the thus.-
der slot ms crush, and away far out on the u i!‘'
sea, where the hurricane howls music, and tl.,
big waves roar the chorus, sweeping the. march
God—there He brews it, that beverage of lif
health giving water. And everywhere it is a thin !
of beauty; gleaming in the dew drop ; singing it
the summer ruin, shining in the ice gem, till ti
trees all seemed turned to living jewels, spreadii,
a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white
gauze around the midnight moon; sporting in the
cataract, sleeping in the glazier; dancing in the
hail shower, folding its bright snow curtains so
softly about the wintry world; and weaving the
many colored iris, that seraph's zone of the sky,
whose warp is the raindrop of earth, whose woo'
is the sunbeam of heaven, all checked over -
celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of ref.,
Still always it is beautiful—that Mesfed life 1...
No poison bubbles on its brink; its foam WI -
not madness and murder, no blood stains its liqu, -
gaze, pale widows and starring orphans weep not
burning tears.in its deptht; no drunkard's shrieking
ghost from the grave curses it in words of eternal
despair! Speak out, my friends, would you ex
change it fur demon's drink, alcohol 1' A shout
like the roar of a tempest answered—" Ns t"
California Land Titles.
It is said the Pope has sent the Rev. John S.
Almani, lately created Bishop of California, on a
mission to this country to examine and report onr
progress in the various arts and sciences, and
public and private enterprises. MI is then to ex
amine and display the titles of the old Jesuit prop
erty in California, and it is thought will lay claim
to one hundred and fifty millions of dollars worth
of land, as the rightful property of the early
Jesuit missionaries in that country. This, in con
nection with a variety of land claims in California,
mny yet give rise to extensive litigation. The
validity of the old Spanish or Mexican grants to
Capt. Sutter, Colonel Fremont and others, has
been greatly doubted, but recent investigations
by our Minister to Mexico it is said fully confirms
the grants. If this be true, Bishop Almani will
meet with but little difficulty in regaining posses
sion of the landed property of the early Jesuit
missionaries.
ei r lf life be a battle, how mad must he he
who fails to arm himself for the contest. If tVe
he a storm, how infatuated is he who steps while
his hark is driven amid unknown waters. If life
he a pilgrimage, how unwise is ho Who strays
from the right road, nor seeks to return until the
twilight shadows gather round his pathway
c a r An Irishman lost a child iu Ireland and af
terwards emigrated to this country, where he lost
another. Wishing to obtain a grave stone that
would tell the whole story, ho had the lines onoa
ved upon it:
"Here lies two children dear,
One in ould Ireland, 'tether here."
GrA deacon of the South Church, Boston,
having been invited to join iu the serenade to
Jenny Lind, said he could not think of such a
thing, but if it would be any favor to the commit
tee, he would go the next evening and sing a
Psalm or two under her window.
girDo you find my eyes expressive of my
feelings V' said sentinel lover to a lady he desired
to please.
"Oh, yes I presume so, " said the lady;
'•they make me think of a codfish dying with the
toothache:"
eirThe wise man is ever learning, the fool
thinks he has learned enough; so the good man
wishes ever to be better, while the transgressor,
fancying himself as worthy as many others, is
content to be like them.
Reade Washington, of the family of Gener
al Washington, will not serve as United States
Connuissioner at Pittsburg, under the Fugitive
Law.
GrA celebrated writer on sight says, that
wearing veils permanently weakens many naturally
good eyes, on account of the endeavors of the eye
to adjust itself to the ceaseless vibration ofthat too
common article of dress.
les'lllr. Poitevin made n balloon ascension at
Paris a short time since, mounted on the back of
an ostrich!
CZ" The frost saw the pretty Flower, and sought
to marry. "Wilt thou ?" said the Frost, and the
Flower wilted.
**mio