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1A.1 4 ( 11 4 (0/btitt
I I "
BY J. A. HALL.
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AN INGEL BY THE HEARTH.
They tell me guseen spirits
Around about us glide;
Beside the still• waters
1)::r erring funtsteps guide:
"l'is nleasatut, tints believing
'Chef r mini.o y on earth :
lknow en angel sitteth
This moment by my heau•th.
tr false-lights, on waters,
To wreck my soul appear;
With finger upward pointing,
She turns me with a tear:
'Twere base to slight the warning.,
And count it little worth,
Of her, the loving angel,
That silted: by my hearth.
She wins me with caresses
V onn passions dark 'ldles;
She guides me Mien I falter,
And strengthens nil with smiles;
It may be, unseen angels
Beside tne,journey forth,
I knot,. thst one is sitting
This moment be nn• hearth.
A loving wife• brothers,
An angel here below)
Alas! your eyes arc holdvit
Too t7ften 'till they go;
Ye upward look while grieving,
When they have pass'd from earth;—
O cherish well, those sitting
This moment by the hearth !
The Night Before Christiu;*
There are many sunny glimpses, and bits
of the picturescie, to be met with in our
journey through life, dear reader—don't
you think so I
Then, is it not a very foolish thing to
plunge gloomily in among the shadcws, to
aviod meeting with those golden gleams
that glide at brilliant intervals, across the
pathway of the years
As the maidens of South America gath
er fire-flies, to light up, with their soft,
pale flames, the masses of their dark hair
—even so will a tho'►ghtful man garner up
flitting fragments of brightness, that, thro'
the aid of the arch magician, Memory, they
may illumine the blackness of a present
If we walk through the world, looking
neither to the right hand nor the left, we
shall miss many a wayside flower that might
have beguiled, with its mute love-language,
leagues of heart weariness. But if we
wander in our appointed path with our shi
ning robes about us; with a smile for ono, a
warm grasp for another, and a spare coin
slipped quietly into the outstretched hand
of poverty, we shall find the world much
nearer heaven than some incredulous per
sons imagine it to be. .
I have a few more words for your ear,
gentle reader, this pleasant Chrismast eve.
DeneVolence does not consist in giving coin
merely. Cheerful smiles, and kindly words,
often do more good than the rich luau's
Doubtless there are times when our own
griefs lay cold about us, like snow in patch
ed; and the very sun looks' wintry, seen
through sad eyes; but our sorrows will sure
ly moltaway in the reviving warmth of true
Faith, and if good seeds have been planted
in a proper soil, they will soon put forth
green leaves, and after a while will come
buds, and blossoms of sweet odor.
Tliore never was a good deed flung noise
lessly upon the ebbing wave of time but
what scented the air around with its fra
grance, and returned rosily to the doer at
some future flowing in of the tide. If you
practice the amenities to those of adult
age, dear readei, you shall do well. You
shall do better still, if you extend yuor
graciousness to little children.
To bo a sage in reason, and a child at
heart, is to be gifted with the best attri
butes of humanity. It is only a child-man
that ,can love little children dearly, and
attach them to him with all the native'
warmth of their young affections.
When we, wrap ourselves in our dignity,
we may become objects of wonder and of
awe to youthful minds; but we shall fail to
win either their rtverence, or their love.
The nearer our manliness approaches child
likeness, the nearer we are to heaven, for
it implies both purity and simplicity. •
It is neither, then, descending, aor con
deeending, to enter with children Into their
little sports; . to soothe them in their infan
tile troubles; or to bond your maturer mind
to the telling of pretty stories, adapted to
the listening ears of the tender group that
will gather, on such occasions, and stsnd
in rapt wonder about your knees..
They are the best of auditors, for skepti
cism is with them an unknown feeling; and
while they marvel greatly, they implicitly
And then, their imagination! How viv
idly it pictures all the personages of the.
story; and with what an easy readiness their
credulity admits all manner of violations of
natural law 4! The wolf that speaks to lit
tle Red Riding Hood, and bids her pull tho.
bobbin of the latch, is for them a veritable
wolf endowed with human organs.
They absolutely see the marvellous bean
stalk of Jack the Giant Killer shoot up,
high in the air, and sustain upon
topmost branches another world, where
ogres dwell in great castles, and subsist by
devouring little children:
The seven league boots, and the coat of
invisibility, have a real existence iu their
imagination. The wonderful achievements
of the little hero delighted them beyond
measure; and v ith what shouts of rapturous
rejoicing they clap their tiny hands, when
the valiant Jack severs the bean stalk with
his hatchet, and the huge giant comes top- .
pling down headlong, and stretches his
great length, prone and motionless ; upon
'When you toll them the story of Alad
din and his wonderful lamp, how absolute
ly breathless is the interest you excite!—
book, how the Hide mouth partly opens,
and the eye be ones fixed, and the counte
nance changes to an expression of fear, or
.sorrow, or intense joy, as the marvellous
But the tale is not marvellous to them.
They believe it all. They would not thank
you to tell them that Aladdin never exist
ed. They see him in his youthful poverty.!
They are eye witnesses of his meeting with
the Dervish. They go down with him into
' the cavern, and pluck with him the many
colored fruit-jewels of the tree. When the
mouth of the cavern ()loses over Aladdin,
it shuts them in also. When he rubs the
lamp in his despair, they see the genius of
the lamp rise out of the ground at their
Net. They are among the spectators at
the wedding of Aladdin with the Princess,
and take an especial delight in the gorge
ousness of the cdremony.
Quickly as his magnificent palace rose ih
the night, they saw it grow, and expand
from the foundation stone to the pinnacle
of the dome, with all its glorious orna
ments, its rich gilding, and its.vivid colors.
Their keen eyes detect the character of
the disguised magician who goes about sel
ling new lamps for old; and their hearts
beat with rapid-throbs,- as the simple wife
of Aladdin exchanges his wonderful talis
man for a common household vessel.
And then, when the palace rises sudden
ly in the air, they are lifted with it like
wise; :dill are borne aloft, and arc carried
with it into a far country, neither knowing,
nor caring Vatter, hut moving wherever
the course if the story takes them, and
coming back, at length,' to the' world of
their own home, with a sort of dreamy be
wilderment, followed by a deep drawn
But, not alone has a child faith in those
wonderfully-written stories, which from
the time of Saxon Alfred, have made at
willing prisoner of the ear, and plumed the
rapt fancy of Vie young mind for excursive
flights into an ideal world.
He believes, as readily, in the oral tra-
ditions whi3li have descended from father
to son through many centuries, and though
tricksy fairies that once fed on honey dew,
and rocked thensclves to sleep in the cha
lices of flowors,-or danced gay dances in
circles upon the green sward—circler
made darker by the pressure of their tiny
feet have strangely disappeared from the
sophisticated eyes of modern people, the
child still throws himself back into the me
dieaval ages, and dwelling with the cotter
at his rude fireside, admits no shadowy
doubts to destroy the perfection of the
For him, too, oven now, in his tenderer
years, Santa Claws is a real presence.—
Has he not seen him delineated in pictures,
stepping down a chimney, bearing on his
back that astonishing variety of toys and
confections, with part of which he benefb
lently fills the stockings of all good chil
dren, somewhere between the closing in of
Christman eve and the morning of that day
NGDON; PA.; THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1852.
which commemorates the birth of the Sa
viour of mankind? And so, even to this
day, little children hang up their stock
ings over the fire place, not doubting to
find them supplied with good things in some
mysterious manner, when they rise at
break of day, and slip down stairs, with
beating hearts, to seize on the treasure
which has come to them while they slept.
And do not some of them peep cautiously
up the chimney before they retire to rest,
to see if Santa Claus is already there;
while others gaze at the pendant stockings
long and earnestly, hoping to behold them
in the act of being filled with their choice
contents by inviable hands: •
And the father and mother look grave
ly on with only a slight curve of their lips,
and a mutual glancing of eyes. Good aunt
Margaret, holding the lamp in one hand
and the youngest child by the other, coax
es the children to come to bed; telling them
that Santa Claus is a timid gentleman, who
loves to bestow his favors in secret, and
will not make his appearance while there
arc any youthful eyes watching for his
And now, dear reader, let us remember
in this season of festivity that the poor, al
so, are, in some sort, 'children—children
of a celestial father; that many of them
hang their empty wallets over a darkened
hearth, and go to sleep, in humble and pi
ous trust; believing, that in some mysteri
ous and unknown manner, Humanity will
come, like the Santa Claus of little chil
dren, and gladden their eyes, and strength
en their faith, by its well-timed gifts.
The want of good pastures and fresh
streams is very unfavorable to cattle, but
the camel makes amends to the Tartars of
the Ortor.s for the absence of the rest. It
is the real treasure of the desert; it can re
manin fifteen days or even a mouth with
out eating or drinking, and however miser
able the country it always finds something
to satisfy it, especially if the soil is impreg
nated with salt of nitre; plants that other
animals will not touch—brambles or even
dry wood serve it for food. Yet little as
it costs to keep, the camel is more useful
than can be imagined out of the countries
where. Providence has placed it. Its or-
dinary burden is seven cr eight hundred
weight, and thus ladenod it can go forty
miles a day. In many Tartar countries,
they are used to draw the coaches of the''
king or princes, but this can only be on
flat ground for their fleshy feet would not •
permit them to ascend hills and draw a car
riage after them.
Notwithstanding the softness of its foot,
however, the camel can walk over the
roughest roads, stones, sharp thorns, roots
of trees, &0., without being hurt. But if
obliged to walk t.o far, the real sole of its
foot wears out, and the flesh is bare. The
Tartars, under such circumstances, make it
shoes with sheep skin; but if, after 4his,
their journey is still much prolonged, the
creature lies down and must be abandoned.
There is nothing the camel dreads, so
lunch as a wet and marshy soil. When it
places its foot on mud, and finds it slips, it
begins to stagger like a drunken man, and
often falls heavity on its side. Every
year, towards the spring, the camel loses
its hair, and it all goes to the last frag
ment before the new comes on. For about
twenty days, it is as naked as if it had
been clean shaven; from head to tail; and
then it is extremely sensitive to cold and
rain. You may see it shivering all over,'
like a man exposed without clothes. But
by degrees the hair grows again; at first it
is extremely fine and beautiful, and when
it is once more icing and thick the camel
can brave the severest frost. It delights
then in marching against the north wind,
or standing on the top of a hill to be beat
en by the tempest and breathe the freezing
air. Naturalists have somatimes said, that
camels cannot live in cold countries; but
they could hardly have meat to speak of
Tartar meets, whom the least heat ex
hausts and who certainly could not bear
the climate of Arabia.
The fur of an ordinary camel weighs
about ten pounds; it is sometimes as fine as
silk. That whic the camel has under its
neck and along its legs is rough, tufted and
black; but tho hair in general is roadish or
gray. Tho Tartars do not take any care
of it, but suffer it, when it falls off, to bo
.lost. In dr) pineos whore the camels toed,
you see great bunches of it, like old rags
blowing about, and sometimes in the hol
lows and corners of the hills, largo quanti
ties will be drifted by the wind. But it is
neves picked up, or only a small portion of
it, to wake a coarse sort of sacks or oar
trf-A. woman residing in Ciueinnutti, Who
has been married thirty-four years, and is
now in her sixty-ninth autuuin, agreeably
astonished her husband by preseting Lim
last week, with a pair of twins, bouncing
boys, the first children to whom she ever
gave birth. Becoiniag a mother at this
period and for the fiirst time, is not a little
Some Account of Paganini:,
The far-famed Italian musician . was born
in 1784. He is justly celebrated for his
wonderful power over that most expressive
of all musical instruments, the violin; for
the brilliancy of his mechanical execution,
and for the pathos of those tones which he
used to draw, as it were, wailing forth from
that one string, on which, in the latter part
of his life, he invariably played. The fol
is a brief sketch of his childhood,
and of his subsequent career es a violinist.
Paganini, when only six years of ago,'
played the violin; at eight, composed hi, '
first Sonata; and at nine, made his first pul, •
lie tipp6arance. Other children have shown
the same precocity of talent, but their af
ter efforts never equalled his. When thir- •
teen years of age, Paganini commenced his
professional tour. At Parma, Pasina, an
eminent painter and violin player, to . test
his powers, brought him a MS% concerto,
containing the most difficult passages, and
placing in the hands of the boy musician an
excellent Straduari violin; "This," said he,
"shall be yours, if you can play in a mas
terly manner this concerto at first sight."
"If that is the case," said Paganini, "you
may bid adieu to it," and forthwith pro
ceeded with the piece in so exquisite a man
ner that Pasiui was thrown into raptures.
llis course as a young man was by no
means free from vice and folly, and gam
bling and looseness of morals sullied his
fame. Many crimes have been attributed
to him, murder not excepted, all of which
his biographer, Who traced his whole life,
shows to have been the purest inventions.
In 1804, however, he broke off his vicious
habits, and again commenced severe appli
cation to the study of his violin. In this
lay the secret of that unapproached maste
ry which he obtained over the instrument.
Gifted by nature with the highest musical I
genius, he undoubtedly was, but he poss-1
essed that which always powerfully aids in'
the development of genius—perseverance.
He has been known to play the same pas
sages in a thousand different ways during
ten or twelve hours, and to be completely
overwhelmed with fatigue at the end of the
day. The severity of this early study suf
ficiently accounts for what passed for a mir
acle in his after life, viz : his never practi
W. 11. C
At the age of '2l, he commenced a new
musical tour in Italy. At Lucca, he be
came conductor of the opera concerts, and
director of music to the Princess Baccioehi,
the sister of Napoleon, who regarded him
with something more than esteem. Here,
on one occasion, he astonished the court by
entering the saloon with only two strings
to his violin—the first and fourth. On
these he played, to the perfect ravishment
of his auditory, a duet expressive of jeal
ousy and subsequent reconciliation between
two lovers. After it was over, the Prin
cess said to him, "Von have performed im
possibilities—would not a single string sta
tics, you for your talent ?" Paganini, who
himself narates the incident., says, "I prom
ised to make the attempt. The idea do
ligted me. Some stocks after, I composed
my military sonata, "Napoleon," which I
perforined an the 25th of Angst, before a
brilliant court. Its success far surpassed
iny expectations; my predilection for the
string dates from this period." Thus are
at once disposed of all the received stories
of his being compelled to adopt one string,
by having worn out the others during an
His subsequent career in London, Paris,
and the,principle European capitals, was
' of the most brilliant and suceessfuL oh erec
ter, and the fortune he realized, immense.
His death took place at Nice, a Mediterra
nean seaport, situated on the confines of
France and Italy, on the 27th of May, 18-
40: His last hours aro thns affectingly
given by an Italian writer :
"On the last night of his existence, he
appeared unusually tranquil. He had slept
little. When ho awoke, he requested that
the curtains of his bed should be drawn
aside, to contemplate the moon, which was
advanciug calmly in the immensity of the
pure heavens. While steadfasly gazing at
the luminous orb, he again became drowsy,
but the murmuring of the neighboring trees
awakened in his breast that sweet agitation
which is the reality of the beautiful. At
this solemn hour he seemed desirous to re
turn to nature all the soft sensations which
he was then possessed of; stretching forth
his hand towards his enchanted violin—to
the faithful companion of his travels•—to
the magician which had robbed care of its
stings—ho sent to heaven, with its last
sounds, the lust sigh of a life which had
been all melody."
That instruniert he bequeathed to his fa
iorite pupil and friend, Camillo Sivori.
.New York wirer states
&ill on Wednesday evening last au ox be-
came wild and at the corner of Vend=
and Varick streets, teased a littlo boy na
med John Quin into the the air. The little
sufferer was severely briused, and received
a frightful wound in the head, but is in a fair
wa.y of recovery. The enraged animal was.
shot l after repeated, attempts, at the corner
[of Broome and Varick streets.
Anecdote of Dean Swift
Ibed, and what is called 'the hardy manner
in which he is reared.! . The civilized man
The following is well authenticated. A
has a better constitution, if he is a man
gentleman who was in the habit of attend
of temperate habits, and he has also a
ing the ministry of Dean Swift, and much
addicted to sporting; very frequently sent stronger frame and can endure morn fa
presents of game to the Deanery. The i li g" - '
's army, at the
fficer s of NapoleCit
footman who went to the door complained The l o
to his master that the man invariably de-
retreat from Moscow, endured the fatigue
livered the game in a very
unbecoming i far better than the common soldiers, and
'there ire abundant evidences to prove that
manner. 'Tell me,' said the Dean, 'when he
a generous rearing tenths to prOduce a tn.'
comes again, and-I will go to the door.'—
Soon after, the footman announced to the bier physical and mental constitution, than
that to be rearecl amid poverty and stunted
Dean the man's arrival with another pre
with hardshi:, Those who point to the ad
sent. The binni Immediately went to the
vantages of a barbaric life
_cap:find no at
door, and was thus accosted, 'Please my
Bement master's sent this hare.' 'Now,' said theument for bettering the condition of the
Dean, with some appearance of displeasure poorer classes. It is an old and exploded
'that is not the
in. his voice and xuanner '
doctrine, that the children of the poor are
way to deliver a message from your master
healthier and stronger than the children of
the rich. If this were true, poverty sure
tohere; just step within and suppose yourself
ly were a blessing. Wo conclude by say
and I will go out and come to the door and
be Dean Swift, and give me tbe hare
ing that good, soft and cleanly - beds for
show you how you ought to delive your children and adults,will tend greatly to rpro
message.' The man having agreed to this
mote health, by producing refreshing slum
temporary exchange of their respective so 7 her, especially to the weary workman.
cell positions, this eteefitrie divine imme-
(1 iat e 1 y took the hare, went out of the house •.--
Who is Krim; Kringle ?
with it, and having taken a short walk up
the street, returned and gave a suitable It MU: the day before Christmas-4.!
knock at the door. It was immediately
ways a day of restless, hopeful excitement
opened. 'lf you please ski' said.tbe tem- among the children; and my thoughts were
porary servant in a most respectful Man-
busy, as is usual at this season, with little
nor, 'my master's compliments, and he wish
-1 plans for increasing. the gladness of my
as you to accept this hare.' ,0 ! thank 'happy household. The name of the good
you,' said the man, acting the part of the genius who presides over toys and sugar
plums was often on my lips, but oftener on
Dean to the very life, and taking out i
'here i s a half-crown for the lips of my children.
you 'lt is almost unnecessary to add that "Who is Kriss Kringle, mamma 1" asked
the hint was taken, and the man for the fu- a pair: of rosy lips, close to my ear, as I
• stood at the !7telicii table, rolling out and
lure delivered his presents of game with
a proper courtesy and respectfulness, re-
ceiving with every delivery a trifle fur Lis : I turned at the question, and met the
trouble I earnest gaze of a couple of bright eyes, the
Man is so constituted, that engaging
either in physical or mental labor for a cer
tain number of hours every day .a feeling
of fatigue is induced and ho sinks into a
state of unconsciousness for a number of
hours, and then awakens with 'nature re
freshed,' and ready to toil for profit or
pleasure. It is a necessary part of our exis
tence to enjoy sleep, and the more uninter
rupted, the more refresbing it is. It is
during the hours of sleep that the electric
battery of the nervous system is replenish
ed with invigorating power. It is therefore
a matter of no little consequence to exam
ine into the means which will tend to re
freshing repose. The state of the body
before going to bed, the kind of bed
clothes, and ventillation must all be then
taken into account. A full meal before
going to bed, generally causes unpleasing
night visitations and broken sleep; there
fore it should be avoided. It is not so re
freshing for a person to lie on the back, al
though many prefer lying on their back, or
on the left Fide.
In regard to the kind of beds most suit
able for refreshing slumber, there are dif
ferences of opinion; some are advocates for
soft, and.some for hard beds. The differ
ence between the two is this— , the wei,ht
.tho body on a soft bed presses on a lar
ger surface than on a hard bed, and con
sequently more comfort is enjoyed.' Child
ren should never he allowed to sleep on
hard beds, and parents err who suppose
that such beds contribute to health, har
dotting and developing the constitution of
children. We have read accounts of a
feW, quilts being good beds for children in
the summer; .oflicrs 'a corn husk mattress,'
or, a pine board with a pine of woolen laid
upon it.' Tho latter kind of n bed is a
gross violation of the laws for the preser
vation of health. Eminent physicians, Dr.
Darwin among the number, states that
'ford beds' have frequently proven injuri
ous to the shape of infants. Birds cover
their nests for their offspring with the soft
est down or the most velvety moss. Tho
softness of a bed is no evidence of its be
ing unhealthy, and they have but n poor
understanding of the laws of nature who.
To render slecti - refreshing, the body
should be bathed every night,and the bed.
room should be of large dimensions; not the
life-destroying boxes named 'bed rooms,'
for which our cities are famous, owing to
the value of city property. Front current
statistic, it has been observed that the
deaths of children of the pourer classes un
der ten years of age, in proportion to the
children of the higher classes, are as ton to
live. Poor beds is one cause of this mor
tality. Above all things, however, it
should never be overlooked, that cleanli
ness tends more to healthful sleep than
In warns weather, night clothes should
be light, and a thin blanket is . perhaps the
beat covering that can used, but many
asitart that a cotton' sheet is preferable;
and if the clothing' products of warns eli
mates are any data whereby we may. form
a correct opinion, the latter Covering must
be the best. It is alt nenseneo. te suppose
that the Arabian has a sounder coustitu
' tip, a stronger frame, and can bear wore
than the civilized man, owing to his squalid
VOL. 17, NO. 51
roguish ownerof which had climbed into a
chair for the purpose of taking note of my
I kissed the sweet lips, but did not an-
"Say, manure? Who is Kriss Kringlel"
persevered the little one. . . .
"Why, don't you know?" said I, smiling.
"No, mamma. Who is he 1"
\i "Why, he is—he is—Kriss Kringla."
"Oh, mamma! Say, won't you tell mar
`Ask papa when he corned home," I re
I ' I never like deceiving children in any
thing. And yet, Christmas after Christ
mas, I have imposed on them the pleasant
fiction of Kriss Kringle, without suffering
very severe pangs of conscience. Dear lit
tle creatures ! how fully they,believed, at
'first, the story; how soberly and confiding-
ly • they hung their stoe,kings in the shim-'
Iney corner; with what faith and joy did
; they receive their many gifts on the never
! to-be-forgotten Christmas morning !
Yes, it is a pleasant fiction; and if there
be in it a leaven of wrong, it is indeed a
"But why won't you tell ine, mamma 1"-
persisted my little interrogator. "Don't
yo ow Kriss Kringlel"
"I hever saw him c dear," said I
"Has papa seen him 1"
"Ask him when ho comes,home."
"I wish Missy would bring me, Oh,
such an.elegant carriage and four horses,
Iwith a driver that could get down and go
If I see him, I'll toll him to bring you
just such a nice carriage." .
"And will he do it, mammal" The
I dear child clapped his hands together with
delight: - -
"I guess sb."
"I wish I could see him," he said more
soberly and thoughtfully. And thou, as
if some new impression had crossed. his
mind, he hastened down from the chair
and went gliding from the room.
half an hour afterwards as I came into
the nursery, I saw my three "olive branch
!es," clustered together in a corner, hold
! ing grave counsel on some subject of int.
portance; at least to themselves. They be
cam silent at my presence; but soon be
gan to talk aloud. I listened to a few
words, but perceived nothing of particular
' concern; then turned sey thoughts away.
1 "Who is Kriss Kingle, papal" I heard
my cherry-lipped boy asking of Mr. Smith,
soon after be came house in the evening.
I The answer I did not hear.. Enough
' that the enquirer did not s.ppeer satisfied
( therewith. .
At tea-time, the children were not in
very good appetite, though in fine spirits.
As soon as the. evenine. ° meal was over,
Mr. Smith went out to buy presents fur
~nr little - ones; -while I took upon myself
the task of getting them off early to bed.
' A Christmas-tree bad been obtained
' during the day, and it stood in one of the
' parlors, on a table. Into this parlor the.
good genius was to descend during' ' thi:
night, and hatq on'tha brunches of the
I tree, or leave upon the:table, his gifts for
I the children. This was our arrat.gement.
I The little ones expressed some doubts as
to whether Krit.'s Kringlo would come to
i this particular room; and little "cherry
I lips" couldn't'just sea how the genius was
going to get down the chimney, when th , .
fire-place was closed no.