Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, February 27, 1856, Image 1
•* 1 . !„..?-1 i , , 4. 4 / , - .''.: . : t G ~. ,a , ~,..7.- ' , 41. • (4:77;) I ' ;,. ' 4 'ri , A.,.., . ' .. t1 4:,, r 'J •7 1 1 ): , , , / . . 1 / 1; " f" .. f t,\ - c ''‘; ''.• , 0 I I [r° I t 1 I: P . L.' I t , . • 4? - -) .e! . .',:iy ---,1 . 4 . , ' - I :.-: 1 . i. ' i 0 i l 4 • , . ( Q i i .„ , a ..,,,‘ . P ~- . . . 1 i , • E.. ,x. 1 .. ..... - ~. k • . - L ' - \i ,,, '\, ,- - , . / i ; '3, : • ' , , . ~.e> . WILLIAM BREWSTER, 1 EDITORS, SAM. G. WHITTAKER, ttect Voctra. Prom the Christian ,Spiritualist. POETIC FANCY. Tell me not, poetic fancy Is hut sophistry refined ; The delusive necromancy Of a visionary mind. Don't 1 list with dreamy wonder To the music on the hills, A. I tit alone, and ponder, By the bubbling woodland rills. Tell me not. imagination Grasps the shadow as it flies, Clothing fanciful creation, In the drapery of the skies. Don't I breathe a fiagrance given To the lilach and the rose Don't I see the hues of heaven On the palest flower that grows ? Tell me not, the gush of feeling Is unstable, weak and vain— But the Hash of passion stealing O'er a transitory brain. Don't my bosom thrill and tremble When it meets a genial soul ? Vain the effort to dissemble, Nature ever spurns control. Tell inn not that Spirit voices Never give my soul delight ; de it (beamingly rejoices, In the visions of the night. Don't our angels hover o'er us Now as in the olden time ; Watching to display before us Glories of u higher clime. Tell me nut to worship money, Garnered up in golden store ; I ran live 011 mental honey, And I ask for nothing more. From the selfish world retiring, To the silent, sylvan shade ; Loving still, nod still admiring Everything that God has made. 'c4.lcti 1:12 SECRET BENEFACTOR. CIS the business I spoke of yesterday at tended to?' asked Mr. Lambert, a weal thy owner of real estate, addressing an in telligent, fair looking young man, who sat at a desk, as the above named gentleman entered his office. Charles Buchand collored with 'embar rassment. For a moment his hand moved nervously across his brow, then raising his handsome eyes to his employer's face, he answered in a frank, steady tone. have neglected to follow your instruc tions.' 'Sic?' .1 am very sorry !' .Sorry !' cried Mr. Lambert, angrily, 'sorry indeed ! and this is the way you at• tend to my affairs ! Young man, if you Ciink I will pass over this carelessness—' beg your pardon,' said Charles, with a face like marble, but speaking in a calm tone, 'I atn guilty of carelessness. I have endeavored to do my duty—' 'Your duty was to follow my instruc tion. Number twenty-three has been a lo sing business for me lung enough. The family have had warning. You should not have disappointed MO. I told you that if the rent was not paid beilire 12 o'clock yesterday—' 'I visited the family,' rejoined Charles, 'and It seemed to me that had you seen what I saw, you would not bare me up. ply the extremity of the law to their mis arable case. *They are very poor—they are sick—they are suffering. You would not have the heart to—' 'Charles Buchard,' exclaimed Mr. Lam bert angrily, 'you have been in my employ two years. I have found you faithful, hon est, capable—and I would not willingly part with you ; but since you prefer your way of doing business to mine, and pre sume to dictate, it is not proper that we should work together any longer.' have thought myself,' said Charles, 'that since I cannot conscientiously pursue the extremes you deem necessary, it will be best for me to quit your service. lam ready,' he added, fixing his mild eye upon Mr. Lambert's face, am ready to go.' 'Well sir, we will have a settlement at once. How much am I indebted to you ? What is your due I - 'Nothing.' 'Nothing ! How—how is this 'You will eee. Cast your eye over this page.' 'Yes—l perceive—you have taken up your wages lately, as soon as due,' said Mr. Lambe•t, who remembering his clerk's fidelity and capacity, was becoming soften ed. 'This is a new thing, however. But I presume that you have invested your mo ney advantageously 1' have tried to make Christian use of answered Charles, coldly. 'Have you been dealing in stocks?' 'No air.' 'Ah, you have lost confidence in me and thought proper to put your money into ether hand, ?' 'I have neither made investments nor loans,' said Charles with a peculiar smile. 'What small funds I could command, I have used.' 'You I' 'Yes sir.' 'Bless me, Charles ! I thought you a steady young man; and how you can have consumed your entire salary, I am unable to conceive.' 'And I presume I should be unable to explain it to your nitration, sir. It b a subject which I can avail nothing to con verse upon. If you get a man in my place immediately, I shall' be willing to save you the trouble of instructing him in the state of your business.' 'Cerainly—if you please; and you shall paid—' 'I did not make the offer, expecting re muneration. I trust that If have kept my accounts in such a manner that it will not require half an hour to make an intelligent man understand the whole business.' 'Charles,' said Mr. Lambert, dislike to part•tvith you so. We have always a greed until this time.' 'Six months ago,' replied Charles Rue hard, 'the family in No. 23 could not pay their quarter's rent. I had orders to turn them into the street. I did not do it,' 'But—but the rent was paid.' 'You permitted me to give them a felt days grace; you permitted this, on my pro raise to see that the rent was paid. You are right sir—it was paid ; the next quar ter's rent was also paid. At present they cannot puy. Knowing the condition of the family I cannot follow your instructions.' 'Well,' said Mr. Lambert hardening him• self, 'l've rules which regard tenants which cannot be broken. I have ruses with re gard to persons in my employ, which no thing can induce me to break. Justice is my motto. It's a good one ; I shall stand by it.' 'Mercy is a better one, sometimes,' re plied Charles, softly. 'Justice is admira ble in all—but, mercy, in the powerful is god-like.' Thus Mr. Lambert parted with his faith• ful clerk. Another took the place of Chas. Buchard, and the latter was without a sit uation. About the first business Sr. Carrel, the new clerk attended to, concerned the poor family in No. '23. 'They vacate the premises immediately,' he said to Mr. Lambert. .But there is some mystery about the family; they made allusion to yourself, which I was unable to understand.' .To me ?' 'Yes sir ; they spoke of your kindness to them—' 'My kindness !' Mr. Lambert colored. .The woman is nn invalid,' raid Mr. Car rel. 'The man is a fine-looking, intelligent person with thin cheeks, a broad pale fore head, and bright, expressive eyes. He has been a year at work on some mechanical invention, which ho believes is going to be a vast benefit to manufacturers.' .1 have heard Mr. Buchard speak of it, replied Mr. Lambert. 'But what did these people say of me. 'That they have been indebted to you for numerous favors--' 'Favors !' 'Yea sir—at work at his invention which of course, can afford him no income until completed. Mr. Ward has not been able to do much toward the support of his fa mily. Mrs. Ward, as I said is an invalid. Their only child—a daughter of about 'eighteen, and a girl of seine accomplish ments, has done considerable towards their support-7--' have heard all this from Mr. Buohard. What did they say of me IP 'That in these circumstances they had received benefits from you, for which they aro very grateful.' 'lt is a mere taunt—insolent irony,' mut tered Mr. Lambert. assure you, there were tears in the poor woman's eyes, when she said it i site was sincere.' 'Humph !' ~ T hey appreciated these favors so much the more,' said Mr. Carrel, 'from the fact that as Mr, Ward's invention is a secret, dad all his instruments and contrivances have been in the house, it would have been a sore disadvantage to be obliged to move. His invention is now on the eve of comple tion, and he is firm in the hope of being a ble to pay with interest all your benefits.' Mr, Lambert was greatly perplexed by this inexplicable conversation of his clerk but he concealed his feelings, and leaving Mr. Cerrol to believe that he was a man who did a great deal of good in a quiet way, wont to explore the mystery, by vis iting No. 28. Ile found the Wards making prepara tions to vacate the premises. To n beau " LIBERTY AND UNION, NOw AND POREYER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE." HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1856. urn! girl with a handkerchief over her head who was carrying small articles of furni• lure to the hall, he made known his wish to reo Mr. Ward. This gentleman was engaged in packing up his machinery ; but soon coining out of hie secret room and locking the door be hind him, he appeared before Mr. Lambert, As these two individuals had never met, the landlord was obliged to introduce him• self. feel highly honored—l am thankful for this new indication of kindness,' said Mr. Ward with emotion,' understand,' said Mr. Lambert, 'that you have been at work on an important me chanical invention.' 'Yes sir, and I am happy to inform you it is completed ; the model has gone to Washington. I have used all the money I could serape together to pay the expens es of the patent right; but, sir, a manufac turing company are ready to negotiate with me for my machine, and irt a very short time I shall be able to pay all my debts.' Mr. Lambert had hitherto regarded hint as a visionary. lie did not look like one; lie did not speak like one. The thought struck Mr. Lambert that he might alter all be able to pay his rent. have concluded that I might as well permit you to remain here a short time longer—although I am myself pressed for money,' ho said, with a thoughtful air. 'My dear sir,' exclaimed Mr. Ward, 'this is a tam I had no right to expect, not withstanding all you have done fur us; but lam sincerely grateful. We are going in to a miserable house, where we did not anticipate residing more than three or four weeks, or until I find my funds coining in; and if we can remain here, you shall be no loser by the operation. Your debt I consider sncred ; those benefits snail never be forgotten.' 'Benefits I I am not aware that you are much indebted to me—,' 'You are pleased to say so—but for two quarters rent you gave me receipts in full, relying upon my honor at souse future time. I have also received sums to ail me in pro• seeming my invention. I have at no time doubted but that they came from you.' 'Mr, Lambert pressed his furehetd with his hand. And after a pause he said. 'And why, may I asl:.•.why did you give me credit—?' 'Excuse me for mentioning the subject,' said Mr. Ward, with emotion, •but although you parted in anger from your sister—' 'Sul' exclaimed Mr, Lambert, starting and changing color. '!let's was a pardonable offence,' said Mr. Ward. "She deelind uxurytng the man whom you choose for a husband. You disowned her; you have never met her since. But this was years ago, and I knew you could not cherish resentment so long." ~ My God," cried Mr. Lambert, "what do you mean! I have heard nothing of her for twenty years. I know not what has be. come of her.. Mr. Ward fixed his eyes upon the landlord in speechless astonishment. , js it possible !" he murmured; 'are you serious I' 'Upon my soul ! I have made inquiries for Mary, without success. I have sup pdtbd her dead !' 'Then these benefits have not been be• stowed because—' 'Sir, 1 know nothing of what you say. I die with suspense ! If you know any thing of Mary, tell me what has become of her.' The tenant's eye looked searchingly and earnestly into the landlord's face; then taking him by the arm, he led him softly and deliberately into another room. There was a pale thin woman skiing in an arm chair. She started on seeing twn men enter ; and uttered a faint cry of sur- pri.e. 'My brother !' 'Mary !' gasped Mr. Lambert, •can it be my sister.' 'Your sister and my wife.' • * • • • An hour later, Mr. Lambert might have been seen entering Charles Suchard's lodg, ings. The young man was at home.-- With surprise he greeted his late employ. or. The latter was apparently excited by the occurrence of some recent event. 'Young man,' said he, 'I have learned in what way you have spent your salary the last year.' 'Sir !' 'You have compromised me. I do not wish to blame you but you should not have left the Ward family to suppose the money they received came Irons me. YOU paid their rent and gave them receipts in my name I' 'And do they know it ?' cried Charles. 'Why should they not? Why did you not act openly with them ?` hail no thought that you would be in jured by being suspected of helping them, and I had my reasons for not wishing n as the author of their benefits,' said Charles, blushing. demand your reasons.' 'The truth is, if I must confess it, I hope some day to marry Mary Ward-- 'Ah-' 'She is a worthy girl, sir--' 'But this is no reason !' exclaimed Mr, Lnmbert. 'Well, then, you must know, sir, had I advanced money the faintly openly,' said Charles recovering his self possession, and his face beaming with frankness, .there was a possibility that I might be suspected of unworthy motives, And again, even had it been otherwise, and I could have won Miss Ward, as I would have wished to win her, she might have loved me more from a sense of gratitude than for myself; and I would not have bought her love. As it is, I—l hope she loves the for what I am, and that she will accept my hand, when I am in a position to support a wife. 'Charles, s aid Mr. Lambert, pressing the young man's hand, honor you!— You have . acted nobly. Return to your situation ; you shall have the entrre con trol of my business; your salary shall be doubled- 'But Mr. Carrol—' .lle is not permanently engaged. I will procure a place for him. Charles, you toast come bank ! I confess I have acted wrong in this matter. To tell you ase cret, Charles, Mrs. Ward is toy own sis ter !' 'Four sister I' do not wonder at your astonishment, but it cannot equal mine, when I learned the fact this morning. I disclaimed all connection with her twenty years ago, be cause she refused to marry a roan who was my friend, I was unjust. Afterward she married Mr. Ward of whom I knew nothing. She supposed, however, that I might have learned the fats, and all the favors they have received from you have thus been - rsedited to me. ,i...13e.! it shall all be made right. I thank heaven that I now have an opportunity to atone for my iujus• Lice to en only sister, and to thank you for the lessons of humanity you have taught me. Wealthy as lam 1 shall never again distress a tenant for rents, without ascer taining whether he is deserving of any fa vors.' Mr. Lambert was not permitted to do all the good he proposed to his si , ter's family. In a few days Mr, Ward's patent was de. creed and his fortune made. Thanks to his noble invention, his family were raised to affluence; but Mrs. Ward did riot dis. drain the kindness of a restored brother. Mr. Lambert had lost no time in ac quainting his relative with the nature of their indebtedness to Charles Buchard. If they esteemed and loved this generous hearted young man before, what was now their admiration of his noble qualities!-- None however felt their influence like Miss Ward. The only way in which she could express her joy, gratitude and love was by becoming his wife, with a dowry which relieved him of the care of providing for the comforts of life. Prosperous in bu siness, happy in his domestic relations, Charles Buchard often had occasion to look back to the time whin he left the service of Mr. Lambert 'for conscience sake.' *titct FUNERAL CEREMONIES. The burial of the dead has not its sectari• an, but its national forms, all of which need correction and simplification. There are, however, many beautiful associations connected therewith, which in a manlier offset the moot absurd form, and therefore should not be lost sight of. The follow ing form the Sun 11-axeise o Herald, gives one phrase of tho buryal service among the Chines e, and may interest, if it should not instruct the reader. "Yesterday was a great day in China dom. A rich man heti died. Ile had, du ring life, been a prominent merchant, and occupied a position of influence among his countrymen. His death was, therefore. considered to be an event. if he had been a poor man, he might have been carried out folded up in a winding sheet, on the back of his son, or seine faithful friond, and tumbled into a nastily constructed grave, and with the last sod laid over him would have perished aff 'reonffections of his vir tues or his faults. With the rich man it . is different. 4is good qualities are enhan. cod in the public estimation by n knowl edge of his wealth. Virtue, when associ ated with large possessions, shines out with a pure refulgence, while poverty ob scures the brightest rays. ft is so in civ- lined communities, and tho Chinese have not been bad imitators. The Chinese mer chant at whose grave a most curious cere mony was performed yesterday, died about three weeks ago. He was interred in the lone Mountain Cernetry without any pomp. Yesterday, however, a large number of re• lotions and friends proceeded to his grave for the purpose of making offerings to his manes. A reverence for the dead is one of the meat striking characteristics of the Chinese race. It is, i n tact, the corner stone of their religious belief. On arriving at the grave, the whole company alighted from the carriages in which they had been conveyed; and commenced the ceremony by spreading meats all around it, A roast pig was placed at the foot, something else at the head, while all over it were s. rowed apple dumplings, fruits and flowers. To ! an outside barbarian it looked Very like a well gotten up pie•nic, and to all appear- once, all that the Chinese present requi- ! red in order to make a very good meal, which would certainly be a very sensible way of testifying their respect for the memory of their deceased friends, were the chopsticks, The delicacies were, howcv- I er, all intended for the hungry soul of the merchant, which had not tasted food for three weeks (a privation that would no doubt have been seriously felt if it had been in the flesh,) and which it was sup posed was hovering around, smacking its lips over the dainty food they had provided for it. As soon as all the eatables were laid on the grave, the widow of the decea sed hobbled up and took her stand at the foot. Around her head several yards of white cloth were rolled. A priest, with a very curly pig tail, a very long blue gown reaching to his feet, and a very long face, stood at the head. The friends and rela tires stood around. As soon as the wo man commenced wail, all the clothes , of the deceased were taken out of a trunk and set on fire. Among the clothes were several pieces of tine silk, which had apparently never been worn. Four canary birds were let loose, in order to help the soul of the de- Iceased in its flight to another world, and when the clothes were renowned, and the canary birds had taken shelter in the neigh boring shrubs, the priest with the long face rang a bell which he had in his hand, at the same time muttering a prayer or in cantation, A general howl. Theceremcny was concluded by the whole company marching around the grave headed by the priest, who rang .t bell at every step, and looked solemn indeed. The pig and ap ple dumplings, and the fruits and flowers and the matting were all carefully packed up and placed in the carriages, and the whole party then returned to town, where, we are informed, the eatables exposed on the grove will be sold in small pieces at exhorbitant prices to those who are reli giously inclined." Ancient and Modern Times. We live in better times than did our fore fathers ; times of more enlightment and public candor in examinating into the claims of discoveries and inventions, and in awn ding their out hors that honor and remu neration which they so justly deserve.— It is sorrowful to reflect upon the suffer ings which ancient inventors endured for those heaven-born gifts which now cum• mend so much admiration. Roger Bacon was forbiden to lecture, and when sixty four years of age was imprisoned in his cell for ten years, for the offence of ma king concave end convex glasses, the cam era obscure, and burying glasses. Galil eo was also imprisoned for his discoveries I in anatomy, and good evidence of his be ing put to the torture aecretely for publish ing his opinions, is not wanting. Gut- Lemberg and Faust, the inventors of prin. sing, were looked upon as having sold I themselves to Satan, and were regarded with suTicion. We might present a long list of mar tyrs to science, discovery and invention, but time and space . would fail us. 'We rejoice that the days of such persecutions and trials are gone past forever. Still there may be many pergons living in our day, who are imbued with prejudices against new projects and new discoveries, and may be given to the habit of sneering at new improvements in machinery, especial ly if made by inventors not engaged in the line of business which the machinery is deslgned to improve and advance. It is our opinion that such prejudices are not uncommon in factory or workship—but they are wrong, very wrong. A machin ist is liable to sneer at an invention made by a weaver, if it relates to a tool ; and a weaver to sneer at that of an engineer, if it relates to a loom. These trade prejudi. ces are perfectly natural, for the machinist may well consider that a weever cannot be very conversant with lathes and drills; I Stuck up Folks. and the weaver may well exclaim, . 4 what 1 "I don't like these people, they are so does an engineer know about a loom?"—! dreadfully stuck up,' was the remark we This is natural we say, but not always cor-; overheard the other day. What are stuck rect. The man who is accustomed to up' people, thought we. and we have been work at one branch of business becomes looking about to see if we could find any. habituated to its very defects, and, in a ; Do you see that young man over pa measure, insensible or blind to them. On der, leaning against the post of that hotel the other hand, a stranger to that business, j piazza, twirling a shadow walking stick Horan ingenious turn of mind, is more j now and then, touting the hair on his up ready to notice such defects, and to plan per-bp, and watching every lady that pass and labor to make improvements.. This es, net that he cares to see them, but is is perhaps not a general rule, but it has leanxious to know whether they see him ; happened in very many instances. jhe belongs to the 'stuck up folks.' What Arkwright was a barber, yet he inven.l is the occasion f Well, he happens to ted a most valuable improvement in cotton ; have a rich father, and a foolish vain moth. spinning machinery. Whitney was not er, who have taught him that he isn't com a maker of cotton machines when ho in. mon folks ai ail, and that poverty is almost vented the saw-gig. Cartwright, the in- the same as vulgarity and meanness, and venter of the power-loom, was an Episco- so he hits become 'stuck up,' he does not palian clergyman. Forsyth, the inventor I take pains to learn nnything, for he does of the precussion lock for fire-arms, was a I not feel this need of knowing any more, he Presbyterian minister, and the !lee. E. I does not work for he was never required Burt, of Manchester, Conn. was the in- to, and is extensively "stuck up" that he vector of the first American checklOom. i has net the least idea that he will ever We could present a long list of inventors come down—he does not know, !lowest who have made valuable improvements on machines entirely out of their own line of business. In view of these facts, let us say to every man, banish every thought of prejudice against any new intention that may be brought under your consider ation, no matter who its author may be.— Examine the invention; do so carefully, and then candidly judge of its merits and demerits,—judge it on its own account a lone, for many good improvements have been prevented for years, from finding their ivay into general use, simply bCcause of prejudice in examining Into their me 'ht.—Scientific ✓tntericatt Fighting Indians with Blood Hounds. A correspondent of the N. 0. l'icay. • une gives an account of a fight between Sam Jones, a notorious despera.lo o.` Texas and fifteen of the Lipan Indians. Ha was in his cornfield when they made their ap pearance. but managed to escape, with as old German into his cabin. The Indians surrounded the house with hideous yells. The old man had but little autunition, and was, of coarse, comcious that every shot should teil. When the Indians would attempt to break in the slight door, lie would shoot, and while he was loading, the German would keep them at bay, by pointing un unfunded gun at them through the crevices of the house. They managed in this way till the outside was bristling with arrows, aimed at them between the logs, and the old man's pow der had given out. At this moment the Indians retreated a short distance to hold a council Thv besieged availed themselves of the chance to get the assistance of a dozen blood-hounds that. were confined in an out-building. Under cover of the two unloaded guns, INlrs. Jones liberated the dogs. Hero was a reinforcement the red scamps bad not calculated upon, and in the twinkling of an oye five of the Indians were her u combat. The balance came to the rescue, and soon shot all the remain. der of their arrows into the dogs, and beat a retreat, bearing their wounded, beating off the dogs with their bows, their buck skins in tatter, and blood streaming from every one of them. After the fight the field exhibited one dead Indian, three dead dogs. sundry pie ces of buckskin, mingled with clotted masses of Indian flesh. hundreds. of ar. rows and pieces of arrows. God Pity the Drunkard. For from appearances generally, his fel low man has decided not to do so. He is on the downward track— give him a push. He has no feeling, they all were gone long ago; give hits a 164, hurry hint along Hell's road, he is cf no account. God pity tht drunkard's wife, for the Rumseller has no compassion on her.-•- What right has she to live—poor miserable creature that alto is. She no longer wears fine silks and her rich furs•--she is, a rag ged nuisance, let her be sent to work house,or somewhere else. God pity the drunkard's child, for the neighbors do not allow their children to as sociate with a drunkard's son. Oh, no ! God pity the drunkard and his family, we say, and enlighten mankind so as to make them enlist in the cause of humanity, fur verily the drunkard has a soul, The drunkard's wife quite often is a woman of refinement, and beneath the rough garments of yon son of an out-cast lies a jewel--a diamond and an intellect of uncommon brilliancy. Pity the poor drunkard, oh ye of little charity, and you will be pitied by your Father in Heaven. tom. The eyes of a pretty woman are the interpreters of the language of her heart. They translate what her tongue has a gte.tt difficulty in expressing. VOL. XXI. NO. 9 There goes a young woman—lady, she calls herself—with the most condescend ing air to nobody in particular, and nn all prevading consciousness that ' , all creation the rest of mankind" are looking at and admiring her ; she never earned the It she eats, knows a little very little of ved many things, and nothing thorough• ly of anything ; is most anxious lost she Inlaid be troubled to make a selection out fifty young men, all of whom aro dying f her, she supposes ; she is ono of the ~ s tuck up," folks and that is about all she The oddish gentleman over the way, barricaded with half a yard of shirt collar guarded by gold headed cane, with a pom pous patronizing air— do you see him 1— Well, ho is one of the "stuck up" too.— Ile has been so about ten years, since he got off his leather apron, and began to spec ulate successfully in real estate. There are other fools of this class, some "stuck up" by ha rn, ble. justice of the peace, an alderman. and in various other trays, they got 'stuck up' uoti.ms. They are not proud people, for they do not rise to the dignity .! pride; they are not distinguished folks for they have nut ability or character enough to make them so--they are just what they appear to be "stuck up ;" let theta stick. It Beautiful Figure Life is beautifully compared to a foun• tain fed by a thousand streams that perish if ono be dried. It is a silver cord twisted with a thousand strings that part mul der if one be brolien. Frail and thoughtless mortals arc surrounded by innumerable dangers which stake it much more strange that they escape so lon, than that they al• most all perish suddenly at last. We are encompassed with accidents every day to crush the mouldering tenements we inhab it, TM; seeds of disease are planted in our coustitutions by nature. The earth and atmosphere whence we draw the breath of life are impregnated with death; health is wade to operate its own dee ruc• tkon ; the food that noui ishes cont..ining the elements of decay ; the soul that ant• tastes by vivilying first, tends to Wear it out by its own action ; death lurks in am. bush along every path. Notwithstanding this is the truth, so palpably confirmed by the daily example before Liar eyes, how lit tle do we lay it to heart ! sue our friends and neighbors among us, but how seldom does it occur to our thought, that our knell shall perhaps give the next (ruit less warning to the world ! Be not Proud I never could count how many causes went to produce any given effect or action, and have been for my own part, many a time quite misled in my own case, fancy some grand, some magnanimous, some vir tuous reason for an action of which I was rood—wlren, 10, some pert little satirical monitor springs up inwardly, upsetting the fond humbug which I was cherishing— the peacock's tail wherein my absurd van. ity had clad itself—and says, "Away with boasting : /am the cause of your virtue, my lad. You ore pleased that yesterday ut dinner you refrained front the dry cham pagne ; my name is Worldly Prurience, not Self-Denial, and 1 caused you to re frain. You are pleased because you gave a guinea to Diddles; I am Laziness. not Generosity, which inspired you. You hug yourselfyou resisted other temptations. Coward ! it was because you dared not run the risk of the wrong ! Out with your pea. cock's plumage ! Walk off in the feath• ers which Nature gave you, and thank Heaven they are not altogether black' Tivickcray.