Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, April 28, 1858, Image 1
WM. BREWSTER, EDITOR & PROPRIETOR. TERMS OF VIE JOURNAL. TERMS The "Ilunrinanou :fount;At.' is published at the following rates If paid in advance 111,50 if paid within six months after the time of subscribing 1,75 If paid before the expiration of the year, 2,00 And two dollars and fifty cents if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscrip tion taken for a less period than six months. I. All subscriptions are continued until oth erwise ordered, and no paper will ho discontinu ed, until arrearagcs are paid, except at the option 'of thuublislier. 2. Returned numbers are never received by us. All numbers sent us in that way are lost, and 'never necomplish the purpose of the sender. 3. Persons wishing to stop their subscriptions, mustpuy up orrearagcs, and send is written or verbal order to that effect, to the office of pub k 'cation in Huntingdon. 4. Giving notice to a postmaster is neither to legal or a proper notice. . _ b. After o lie or more numbers of n new year have been forwarded, a now year has commenc ed, and the paper will not be discontinued until •rreorafJer are paid. See No. 1. The Courts have decided that refusing total. newspaper from the, oflieo, or removing and leaving it uncalled fur, is PRIM., FACIE eVidenee al intentional fraud. Subscribers living in distant counties, or in other States, will be required to pay invariably in advance. (fir The above terms will be rigidly adhered tu in all cases. ADVERTISEMENTS Will be charged :it the following rate -- I lII3PIIIOII. 2 do. 3 do. Six lines or less, $ 25 $ s7i $ 50 One square, ( In linae,) 30 75 I 00 Two " (32 " ) 100 I 50 200 3 mo. 6 int. 12 mo. $3 0.1 $5 00 $8 00 5 00 3 Oa 12 00 8 00 12 OU 18 00 12 00 18 00 07 00 18 00 27 14.1 40 00 Une square, Two squares, e column, 28 on 40 110 bn Business Cards or six $4.00. Advertising and Job Work. We would remind the Advertising com munity and all others who wish to bring their businesa extethively before the pub • lic. that the Journal has the largest cir culation of any paper it the county—that it is o instantly increasing;—and that it goes into the hands of our wealthiest cit i• zens We would 11160 state that ;ifir for executing all kinds of 013 PRINT ING are equal to those of ti;y other office inthe county; and all Job',%lrk entre,- ed to our hands will li, done neatly, Frninptly, and nt price, which trill be satisfactory. A YOUNG GIRL IN A TRANCE FOR TY EIGHT HOURS.- Asontrit reuwimm.sin smut. About 10 o'clock, lart Thursday night, a young girl nanvd Isabella Ellison, aged 19, residing in Washington street, Pough keepsie. while at the altar in a 31ethn list church, in that co.y, suddenly lifti d up her hanos,..pail fell backward ;Ti, ready a corpse. Seveial members al the church immediately ran to her assistance, and rat sed her lip, Arbon to their horror they lound that her eyes were glazed anti ret, her features pale no marble. lips Crless, her feet nail hands cold: nail the sisectotors thought thnt they were gazing upon the features of it corpse. It was shortly discovered that she yet breathed. when she was conveyed to her re,itlence, the preneher saying that she in a trance, and when rr member ad. ei eti that medical assistance should be prscured, the preacher objected, saying fiat Jesus Christ had throws her into this inesterious state, and Ile will at his own limo raise her to testify to His goodness. She remained in this state until Saturday ;evening, excepting a slight incident which occurred on Friday afternoon, when she suddenly lifted up her hand, and made ' three or four diens to clutch at serne• thing, when the nest fell back over the headboard of the bed. Two or three of tan women who were it the house at 4....tepted to replace the arm upon the bed, lost were unable to bend or move it. On Saturday evening, n number of mein. bens were in the house, singing her fa vorite hymn, when she suddenly lifted tip her hands, and cried out, 'Glory Hal. !' Site then turned to one of her friends, and calling her by name, said, I nel:tont, repent ! Oh, if you had seen so hat I have you would not live another 41103.C11t in your sins, but would pray to Ge Ito have mercy upon you. I have leen in Heaven; Heaven is a tree; it is lit nis with the glory of God, and around tlsrune were thousands of angels sin• tiny sweetly and, praising the King of lleee.m. Jesus came past and spoke to nr•. I also saw the great gulf, and could scarcely see the bottom of it.' On Fri. day is:ght a number of Christians were its the house, singing and praying all night. —See was very weak when she att from the trance, but was strong enough to attend church yesterday morn Seg. This wonderful case was witnessed by se tres in Poughkeepsie and consider able excitement is cause(' thereby in that city. ~~~, (stiert tlottrg. CINCINNATI SWINE, This song of mine Is a song of the swine To be sung by the jolly members Of pork•house clubs That stand by the tubs In the frosty, cold Decembers. It is not a song 01 the bull•frog's gong From wet and misty marshes, • Nor the lowing cow, Nor the dog's bow wow. That sound through the city arches, Nor Iho ba a log sheep That triggers keep To the plains of old Kentucky, Atol whose fleecy wool The brambles pull In it way that is unlucky. For [attest and best Are the swine of the West That grow by the beautiful ricer, And their rich perfume Fills all the room With n mnlison on the giver, And as hollow vats Are the home of rats Forever gnawing and stealing, So this mighty pen Is again and again [squealing. Full of grunting and snoring and Very good in their jigs Are the Boston pigs, And the Philadelphia purkers, But Ohio swine tray,' It taste more iiivino Than even the big New Yorkers. There grow no swine With a fatter chine Nor a more prodigious liver Nor with flesh and Inrd So thick and hard ,1s those by the beautiful river. Many tho damns 11n t greet the hams Whieh conic o'er the salt Atlantic, And the ears and the feet Arc not so sweet, And very much less romantic. the gutters and bop With all such hogs, And the Old Scratch take t h e bris• And scorch theit shins And burn their skins, And el their tails sake whistles. While lingo Ittni flue Are the ;;Int•ions swine, The fattest of the fatty, That roll in :troves • Front thi• field:4 and the groves, To the streets of Cincinnati. And this song of the swine, This grunting of mine, The types and press shall deliver, To the city of hogs As she oils by the logs That float on the beautiful river. 19i5toritai *ltetrij. THE CATACOMBS OF ROME. (continued.) We Hass now over two centuries and a half. About five years ago the CavaHere de Rossi found lying upon the ground, in a Cigna bordering on the Apian Way, a bout two miles from Rome, a portion of a sepulchral stone on which were the letters NELIUS MAR I'YR, the NE broken r cross. He immediately conjecturechlint this was a piece of the stone that had co vered the grave of Pope Cornelius, [A, D. 250-253,] and on the truth of this conjec- ture important results depended. It was known that this pope had beeniuried in the Catacombs of St. Callixtus; aird it was known also, front the itineraries and some other sonrces, that his grave was not in the same chamber with the graves of the oth er popes who were buried in those cats• combs, but that it was not far away from it. It was further known, as we have seen, t hat the chapel in which St Cecilia was buried was close to the Chamber of the Popes. But a tradition dating front a late period of the Middle Ages had given the the name of Callixtus to the catacombs opening from the Church of St. Sebastian, at a little greater from Rome. . In these catacombs the place supposed to be that of St. Cecilia's grave was pointed out, and an inscription set up to murk the spot. by a French archbishop, in •he year 1409, still exists. Many indications, however, led De Rossi to disbelieve tradition and to din. trust this authority. It contradicted the brief indications of the itineraries, and could not be reconciled with other estab lished facts. Not far from the place where the broken inscription was found was an accidental entrance into the catacombs which had been supposed to have been ori ginally connected with those of St. Sebes r", I ' ) .• ^ c tian, but were believed by Dl' Rossi to be a portion of the veritable catacombs of St. Callixtus, and quite separate from the former. The paths in tlrs part, however. were stopped up in so many directions, that it was impossible to get an entrance through them to such parts as might deter. mine the question. Again, in the neigh. borhood of the discovery of the broken stone was an old building, used forn stable and fir other mean purposes. On exami nation of it, De Rossi. satisfied himself that it had been originally one of the churches erected in the fourth oentury at the en trance of the catacombs, and be had little doubt that he had now round the place of the main descent into the catacombs of St. Callixtus. The discovery was a great one ; for near the main entrance had been the burial-place of the popes, and of St. Cecilia. De Rossi laid the results of his inductive process of archmologioal reason ing before tho pope, who immediately gave orders for the vurchase of the vigna, and directions that excavations should at once be begun. The work was scarcely begun, before an ancient stairway, long ago buried under ; accumulated earth and rubbish, was dis covered, leading down to the gavl,' story oi the catacombs. The passage into which it opened were filled with earth, hut. as this was cleared away, n series of chain- bees of unusual size, reaching almost to the surface of the soil, was entered upon. At the right a wide door lad into a large chapel. The walls were covered with rudely scratched names and inscriptions, some m Greek and some in Latin. De Rossi, whose eyes were practiced in the work, undertook to decipher these often obscure scribblings. They were for the most part the inscriptions of the pilgrims who had visited these places, and their great number gave proof that this was a most important portion of the cemetery. The majority of these were simply names, or names nccompanied with short expres sions of piety. Many, for instance, were in such form as this,—Keep Elaphis in remembrance." Many were expressions_ of devotion, written by the pilgrims for the sake of those who were dear to them, an— Vivat in Dotni ,, o, "May he live in the Lord"; Pri[ite] of limy:ulna cum suis bens naviget, "Seek that Vercundus with his companions may voyage prosperously " The character of the writing, the names and the style, indicate that these inscrip tions belong to the third and fourth centu ries. Among these writings on the wall were one or two which confirmed De Ron. si in the opinion that this must be sepul chre in which the greater number of the popes of the third century had been bur ied. Carefully preserving all the mass of ruhbivh which was taken from the cham ber, he set himself to its examination, pick ing nut from it all the bits nr fragments of marble, upon many of which letters or por tions of letters were cut. Most of them weLp of that elaborate character which is well known to all readers of the Inscrip tions from the catncornbs ns that of Pope Damnsus—for this Pope had devoted him self to putting up new inscriptions over celebrated graves and hail used a peculiar and sharply cut letter, easy to be distin guished. It was known that he had put new inscriptions over the tenths of the popes buried in the cemetery of St. Callix tus. After most patient examination, De Rossi secceded in finding and putting to gether the inscriptions of four of these ear ly popes, and, with Cuvier-like sagacity, he reconstructed, nut of a hundred and twelve ssparate, minute, and scattered pie ces, the metrical inscription in which Da masus expressed his desire to be buried with them, but his fear of vexing their sa cred ashes. There could no longer be any doubt ; this was the Chapel of the Popes, and that of St. Cecilia must be near by. Proceed ing with the excavations, a door leading in to a neighboring crypt was r pened. The crypt was filled with earth and dedrix, which appeared to have fallen into it thro' a lutuirrare, now choked up with the growth and accumulated growth of centuries. In order to remove the mass of, earth with the least risk of injury to the walls of the chamber, it was determined to take it out through the I uminare from above. As the work advanced, there were discovered on the wall of the luminare itself paintings of the figures of three men, with a narr.e in scribed at the side of each—Polioainus, Sebestianus, and Cyrinus. These names inspired fresh zeal, for they were those of saints who were mentioned in ouo or more of the Itineraries as having been bnried in the same chapel with St. Cecilia. As the chapel was cleared, a large arcosoliutn was found, and near it a painting of a youthful woman, riohly attired ; adorned w!th neck laces and bracelets, and th• dress altageth 4 . LIBERTY AND UNION. NOw AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE. " HTTNTTNGT)ON. PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 28. 1858, er such as might befit a bride. Below on the same well, was the figure of a pope in his robes, with the name I, Scr. Urhontis" painted at the side ; and close to this fig ure, a large head of the Saviour. of the Byzantine type, with a glory in the form of a Greek cross. The character of the paintings showed that they were of com paratively late date, probably not earlier than the sixth century. end obviously exe cuted at a time when the chapel was fre quented by worshippers, and before the traditional knowledge of the exact site of St. Cecilia's sepulchre had been lost. The discovery made by Paschal after ! the place had been deserted wits thus re peated hy De Rossi after a second. longer, and 'more obscure period of oblivion. The divine vision which had led the ancien t Pope, according to his own accou t, to the right spot, was now replaced by scientific investigation. 'rho statements of inspire tion were confirmed, as in se many more I conspicuous instances, by the discoveriesof science. Cecilia had lain so near the popes that she might. as she had saidt o Pasbhal, have spoken to him when he xis in their chapel, os ad os, •imouth to mouth. But the questions naturally arose, Why was it that in Paschal's time, before this chapel was encumbered with earth, it had been so difficult to find her grave 1 and, IVhy had not the Lombards, who had sought for her sacred body, succeeded in finding it 1 De Rossi was able to tarnish the solution, In several instances he had found walls carefully built up in front ul tombs to conceal them. It wits plain that this must have been' done with some deli nice purpose ; and it seems altogether like ly that it was to hide these tombs from sacreligious invaders. The walls had been built when the faithful were forced by the presence of their enemies to desert the catacombs and leave them Unprotec ed. It was a striking illustration of the eerier, tion in which these holy places hail been held. Upon examination of the floor in • front of the arcosolium of this of this cha pel, traces of the foundation of a wall were discovered and thus the Lombard failure and Paschal's difficulty were ex.. pluined. So ends the story of St. Cecilitivid her tomb. Within her church are the remains of the bath chamber in which she suffered death. The mosaics of the apse film the arch of triumph tell of the first finding of her body; Maderrio's statue recalls the fact of its second discovery long ; sod now this newly opened, long forgotten chapel shows where her precious body was first laid away in peace, brine, the le gend of her faithful death into clearer r,- intentirnrice, and concludes the ancient story with dramatic, and perfect complete ness. "The Lord discovered', deep thing. , ou. of darknoss, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death." (To be continued.) DIET AND DIGESTION. Our good neighbors the French or rath er the philosophers amen them have ns aerted that the peifection of man and ape cies &mends upon attention to diet and di gas ion ; and, in a material point of view, they are not for wrong; and. indeed, in a non-material point of view, it may be said that the spirit, without judgement. is very likely to he exposed to indigestion; and perhaps ignorance complete is be prefer red to an ill-digested erudition. With di et and pa'ience Walpole thought all clis, ease of man might be easily cured. Mon tesqiuu, on the other hand, held that health purchased by rigorously watching over - diet, was but a tedious disease. Bill Wel pole was nearly correct while Montesqieu was not very far distant from the truth.— Dieting, like other thing. must be under taken on common sense principles ; for, though there be multitudes of and people in the world, society generally is not to be put upon the regime of Bedlam. We live, not by what we eat, but by what we digest; and what one man may digest another would die of attempting.— Rules on this subject are almost useless. Each innn may soon learn the powers of his stomach, in health or dis .ase, in this r espect and this ascertained, he has no more business to bring on indigestion titan he has to get intoxicated or, to fall in• to debt. He who offends on these points, deserves to forfeit stomach, head, and his electoral franchise ! Generally speaking, fat and spices re sist the digestive power; end too much nutritious food is the next evil to too little. Good cookery, by developing flavor, in creases the nutritiousness of food. which bad cookery would perhaps render indi• gestible. Hence a cook rises to the digni ty of 'artist.' He may rank with the chemists if not with the physicians. Animal food, of mild quality, is more :( 1 4 , i ~ ,: se i,... ;) 1 it 1 ~,k digestible than vegetable and fresh meats are preferable to salted. In the latter, the salt is a different composition from that which is taken at meals, and which is in. dispensnble to health. Fish fills rather than feeds hut there are no exceptions to this. Vegetables are accounted as do ing little to maintain stamina, but there have been races and classes of men who been born heroes upon brend. fruit and ye. getohles. The poor cannot live upon cur ry, it is true ; but in England, with less drink and more vegetable food, they would be an improved race. Not that thoy could live like a Lozaroni, on 11-Incroni and open air. Layard says the Bedouin owes his health and strength to his spore diet But even a Bedouin swallows lumps of butter till - he becomes bilhous, and were he to live to England instead of the des ert, he would not keep up his strength by living on dishes which supported him in Arabia Felix. The golden rule is .moder. Hann and regularity.' H•. who transgress es the rule, will pay tor tt by present suf. fering and n .check after Christmas.' A false hunger ought not to he soothed, nor u fuse thirst to be sati,fied ; for satis faction here is only adding fuel, to the fire that would otherwise go out. On the other hand the billions and setiantary wan need not be af-aid of beer; it is a better than wine. For him and all the lords ruf that heritage of woe, a weak stomach, thi, common sense system of enolccry, as it is called, is most required. It is so.nething henween the hard, crude system of the Enelkh. and the juice exciting method al the French; while a leaning however, to wards the hitter, (with whom it i= com mon to reduce fond to a condition of pulp) hp uniting t itli it so mulch of the English custom es allows the 7elatinous matter be retained, especiiilly in the meats. Festi lento, is Latin de castine, for , Ent slo v• le, and it is of first value. lie who does s.), gives best 'Aimee for healthy chyle ; and that wanting, I should like to know where the post prandial enjoyments would be. Without it digestion is not, and when digestion is away, Death is nlways leering ■bout to profit by his absence. See to it! as the Chinese chop' says, '!'burr are upwards of seventeen hun dred works extant on the subject of diet and digestion. Sufferers luny study the rpiestion till they are driven mud by doubt and dy,pepsia, and difference of opinions among the doctors. Fordyce saw no use in the salvin, and Paris mountains that without it digestion is not. Quilt 1101114;es tot senteinniei is as applicable here as in every other vexeed question But Paris' lireik on Diet is the safest guide I know for a man tvlio, luting dyspeptic warns to cure himself, or simply to discover the de• linement of his degree of Earring. On the other hand, every man may find corn• fort in reflection, that with early hours. abundant exercise, generous dirt. but not to much of it, occupation—without which a worse devil than the former enters on possession of the victim—dyspepsia can • not Assume a chronic form. It may be a casual visitor, but it will be the caEiest thing possible to get rid of him. But philosophy has said as much front the be. craning. and yet ilyr.pep,i•i prevails and physiciansride in carriages. Exactly ! and why ? Because philosphers them - I Mgt, like the Stoic gentleman in tlnr. montel, after praising silo Acity of living sink to sleep on heavy suppers and beds of down, with the suicidal remark, the 'ls • luxe est one jolly choose.' We most neither act unreservedly on the dictum of books, nor copy slavishly the examples of others, if we would have the digestion is a self•mon dor that truty be consulted. Of his existence there can be no doubt; for every man who wakes with s headache most ungratefully blames the same monitory 'self' .—Dr. Doran. Mr I nm thy (miler's spirit,' as the bottle said to the boy, when he found it hid in the woodpile, end wondered what it wns. Mir Why are potatoesand cars like certain sinners of old ? Because. having eyes they see not, and having ears they hear nut. Sir The strongest kind of a hint—A young lady asking a gentleman to see if one of her rings will go on his little fin- mi How to Bind the Wildest Horse for hoeing and the Wildest Cow for Milk ing.—The way to do it is simply this : Put around them, just buck of the fore legs, a strong rope, or chain; into this twist a stick, so that at every turn the rope will be drawn tighter, until the uni• oral will submit to be ing handled at your pleasure. The most unmanageable ani• orals can be subdued iu a few minutes in this manner. 11 iii I. ja 1:0. f ... , -*A , )4,. - " .41 if i riuiaturrs NO. b. PRIDE. Every one makes some little figure in his own eyes, FCCAUVP pride is often mis taken for greatness of soul, while it is in reality the offspring of weakness. or igno. rance. Humility is n certain mark of a bright mind which cleared from the mists of passion; is capable of considering., and valuing the immense power of God. Ti tles, nod riches help no more toward im proving, mankind. than a fine saddle to the ranking of a better horse. The pal- try advantHges temporarily gained by pride serve only in this- world—for God bath said 'the pride 01 life is not of the Filth er.' Ep. St. John 2d ch., 16 v.'—but 'He shall save the humble person.' Job 2.2 ch., 21) v.' "Of all the causes which conspire to blind, Man's erring reason, and misgnide the mind What. he weak head with strongest bias rides Is prid,, the never failing vice of fools. Whatever Nature has in aorth denied, She gives in large recruits of needful pride; I', as in bodies, thus in souls, wo find, What wants in blood, and spirits, swelled with Pride where wit fails, steps in, to our &hero And fills op all the mighty void (deem, Trust not yourselves—but your defects to know )fake um , of every friend, and every foe. He who considers no man above him, but for his increase •in virtue, and, judg• es no man though evident criminality place som, below him, can never ba far wrong. it is n tricot) pride that mensums worth by the gifts of fortune for •wealth is, often in the hands of those lenst. decor• ving of it. Of twiny who now live •es it were—upon outward show, knew how despicable tiny appear to those of refined intellect,they would in mortification, and rho me cotter their superfluities to the world, and thereby fulfil the wishes of the Saviour by 'feeding the hungry, and clothing the naked.' As regards business prosperity humility and conhdence will always gain friends, while pride will con stantly regime new fields to practice upon. •SV I tosoever shall exult himself shall be abas'd, and he that shall ham• hie himself shall be exalted.' St. Slat. thew 28 ch., 12 v.' (3 od of ft, life— —Pother DiviGe, Give me a meek, and lowly mind In mmleat myth Oh let me shine. •And peace in humble virtue find. Save me alike from foolish pride Or impi,mAisanatent; AI aught tby NVIN(10111 ling denied EIMI!AT011 I LETTER OF A DYING WIFE TO HER HUSBAND The following, touching fragment of a I:mer from a dying wife In her husband, V.,13 found by him coma months after her death, between leaves of a religious v ,, lume, which she was very fond of per- wino. The letter was written long be fore her husband was nwnre thnt the ~ :ra- p of Grtal dismtse had 'listened upon the lovely form of his wife, who died at ihe early oge of nineteen : ii this shall reach your eye, dear George. some day wh n yon are turning over the relics of the past. I shall hove passed away forever, and the cold white stone will he keeping its lonely watch over the lips you have so often pres ed. and the sod will be growing green that shall hide forever from your sight the dust of one who has often nestled close io your wnrm heart. For many long and sleepless nights, when all besides my thoughts were nt rest, I have wrestled with the consciousness of approaching death, until nt lost it has formed itself up on my mind; and although to you, to others it might, now seem but the ner vous imiigining of a girl, yet, dear George it is so!—Many weary hours have I pas. sed in the endeavor to reconcile myself to leave you, whom I love so well, a nd this bright world of sunshine and beauty; slid hard indeed it in to struggle on si lently and alone with the sure convic tion that lan about to leave all forever and go down into the dark volley ! 'Hut I know in whom I have believed,' am! leaning on His arm, fear no evil.' Do not blase me for keeping even all , this horn you. Hose could I subject you of all others, to such n sorrow ns I feel at parting, when time will soon intike it apprviit to you 1 I could have wid.ti to live if only to be nt your side when your time shall come. and pillowing your head upon my breast, wipe the death damps from your brow, nod usher your • neparting spirit into the Nlalm's presence VOL. XXIII . . NO. 17 embultned in woman's prayer. But it is not to be—and I submit. Yours is the privilege of wniehing, through long and dreary nights for the spirit's final flight, unit of transferring my sinking head from your breast to my Saviour's bosom ! And you shall share my last thought, and the last faint pressure of the hand, and the last feeble kiss shall be Yours, and even when flesh and heart shall hove failed me, my eyes shall rest on tours until glazed by death; and our spirits shall hold one last communion un til gently fading from my view—the last of earth—you shall mingle with the first bright glimpses of the unfading elorjes of the better world, where partings are un known. Well do I know the spot. my dear George, where you will toy me; of ten we stood by the place, and as we watched the mellow run-set as it glanced in quivering flashes through the leaves and burnished the grassy mounds around us with the stripes of burnished gold, each perhaps has thought that some day one of us would come alone, and which ever it might be, your name would be on the stone. But we loved the spot, and I know you will love it none the less when you see the same quiet sun light linger and play among the gross that grows over young Mary's grave.. I know you will go there. and my spirit will be with you then, and whisper among the waving branches—'l nm not lost but gone before.' ..farnlets' Otollllllll. !I Mei ky theplouglt would iltriv, Himself: lewd either kohl or drive Fruit List for 1858. The following lit of Fruits for this lo lality .ves adooted last week by the Pitts burg Horticultural Society, and will he found invuluehle ns a guide to persons planting orchards or setting out fruit trees. Cuf it out end preserve it for reference. APPLES AD3PTED.--- SIMMICP-• Early Harvest, sweet Bough, Red Astrachan, Favorite. Fall— Maiden's Blush, Holland Pippin, Fall Pippin. Low ell, or orange, Gravenstein, Fall Harvey, Codlin, Sweet Russet, or (Canada Reinette.) Recommended /or trial—Ohio Nonpareil, Republican Pippin. Winter —Ramos, (early); Rome Beauty; Fallwa ter. Roxburry Russet, Peck's Pleasant, Rhode island (iyeenina ; Green or White Bellefleur, Bethlehemite, Newton Pippin, (for limestone and high culture); Witch Willow, (as a great bearer and long keep er.) Recommended for trial—Northern Spy; Norton's Melon, Wall's (Domine,) Hawley ; Talman's Soteet, Smith's Cider, Smokehouse. Pitnoncs AnorrEn.--Serrate Early York, role's Early Red, Crawford's Ear ly. Early Montagne, Large Early York, Old Nlocon. Morris' White. Druid Hill, (;rose Mienraine, Griffith Belle Ctn., reuse, rooledge's Pnvoriee Crawford's Late, Ward's Late Free, Large White Cling. Recommend /or trial—Sroott's Nonpareil, Rodman's Red, Carter's Large. CREMES Armen:D.—May Duke, Car• nation. Elton, Om Wood, Elk Horn or 'Trade ,cent. Black Heart, Bleck Eagle, Tortarettn, Yellow Spanish, Napoleon Iligarreau. - iIAPES ADOPTED. --Isabella. Cataplia, Concord, Rebecca, Dianna. Recommen ded for trial.--Delaware, RASBEEEIE AD OPTED --••Brincli He's Orienge, Red. Antwerp, White Antwerp, Pas nlll, Friotconiit. Cittowissit, Hudson River Antwerp Recommen,b,l lor le ial. Belle de Fontenay, Paragon, Nlerveille de Cluntre Saitons The Strawberry List will be published in time for summer planting BLACKBERRIES ADOPTED.—New finch. elle, Large Upright. Dorchester, or lona. —Recommended Joe 11.R:1—Newman's Thornless. CURRANTS ADOPTED.—Cherry, White Grupe, Red Grape, Victoria, or Houghton Castle. A lincivE FOR MAKING BROWN BREAD.— I will give you my recipe for making brown bread, which I have adopted of late and find it very good. Take two quarts of corn meal, two do. of shorts, one tablespoonful ()isn't, one tea cup of mo• lasses. Stew a squash or a good pump kin, in water sufficient to wet this mass; pour it on boiling hot. When cool en ough, add a pint of yeast and two quarts of wheat flour, and this will make four loaves. When light, bake three hours. Lady Reader. ;,An editor, in talking of poetry and matrimony, says: "Who would indite militias to a woman, •vhom he .ary every morning in her uight•cap, and every day at dinner swallowing meat nod mustard?"