*tar Si ittostelittimimtv
VOL. 6--NO. 7.]
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THE GARLAN D.
"With sweetest flowers enrich'd,
From various garileas eulril with eam."
"WE ARE BUT YOUNG .r)
HYMN FOR SUNDAY SCHOOLS.
We nro but young—yet we may Fin
The ridges of our heavenly King;
.1 le mad., the earth, the son. the sky,
And all the starry world on high.
W e are hut young—yet ruiit'd all
By Adam, our first parent's fall;
And we have aimed,') Lord, tingive,
Testis bath died that we might live.
We are but young—yet wo have heard
Tho gospel news, the heavenly word:
If we despise the only way,
Dreadful will be the judgment day.
We are but young—yet we must die,
Perhaps our hitter end is nigh;
Lord, may we early seek thy grace,
And find in Christ a hiding place.
We are but young—we need a guide—
Jesus in thee we would confide;
Oh lead us in the path of truth,
Protect and bless our helpless youth.
We ale but young—yot God has shod
Unnumber'd blossing,a on our head;
Thou lot our youth and ripor days
Ito all devoted to his praise.
SELECT TALE.
Fllo3l' THE NEW-YORK Jtinnon.
The Blacksmith of Clonmel.
[B James Sheridan Knoters
CHAPTER THE THIRD.
I nAvE often wondered at the strange
fatality by which it seemed pre-ordained
that 1 should be present whenever any event
ful incident occurred in the early lite of the
blacksmith. Ity accident I was by when
Margaret Lynch eloped with him, and when
she was married to him. A year libid age
now been his wife. He was a father. She
had presented him with a boy. They lived
near the forge which I spoke of in the com
mencement. The house was a very neat
cottage, a little off the road, with about an
acre aground in the rear, which served
fur a kind of kitchen garden. Potatoes,
cabbages, and currant and goosberry trees,
in rows, were set in it. I became a sort of
visiting acquaintance, I am ashamed to say,
without my mother's knowledge; and
through the aid of Mick, who took care to
give me a hint whenovcr his car was going
in that direction, had frequent opportunities
°refilling. I was always heartily welcome;
but it pained• me to see that neither the
blackimith nor his wife was happy. Not
that they did not love each other! .Far from
id Their attachment seemed to have in
creased since their union. I never saw any .
thing more tender than the manner of his
deportment toward her. There was a
melting softness in his voice, whenever he
addressed her; while the way in which, on
such occasions, she would look up in his
face, would often bring a tear into my eye;
it was so fond, so confiding, so grateful.
There was no secret as to the cause
which preyed upon their hearts and depress•
ed spirits, which love and contented pos
session had else - made light and buoyant.
The curse of Jerry Lynch was hanging
over them. It lowered upon thorn from
the looks of their neighbours, their acquain.
tances, and even their friends. "Who would
be Margaret Brennan? Three times had
she fainted before the priest could begin
the ceremony, and her father had cursed
ber and her husband at the altar, at the
entrance, and outside the chapel." I was
not aware of the last circumstance until
sometime afterward. 'llad luck was sure
to be their portion." And palpable were
the signs by which it showed itself. The
price of iron suddenly advanced, and no
stock had Phil Brennan on hand. It was
the same with coals, which, the winter be
ing unusually long and severe, rose to so
high a price that there was scarcely such a
thing as .purchasing them, except by the
wealthier tradesmen and the gentry. Then
nothing seemed to prosper that Phil Bren
nan put his hand to. The horses that he
shod were certain to fall lame, or to stum
ble, or to get the glanders, or to become
touched in the wind. A wheel came off
near his door; he repaired it; and scarcely
had the car gone a mile when the horse
ran away, fell, and broke the car to pieces.
His fire would not light like that of any
other smith —had not the Same heat in
was as weak as if it had been made of turf.
In a word, his mus[decline, and
of course, it did so t or the gossips had else
been false prophets. This accounted to me
hfterward for the way in which Margaret
Brennan coloured, when several times run
ning she set down before tag it piece of cake
without any butter on it; or hastily removed
without letting inc see it, some dish on which
they had been dining, when I paid them an
unexpected visit.
"Missl Miss!" whispered Mick one Sun
day as I was coming out ofchapol, my mo
ther being in conversation with a neighbour;
"Miss, I drive by Margaret _Brennan's to
morrow and back again in half an hour. I
shall be at the barrack-gate exactly at ono
o'clock."
At one o'clock the following day, I was
seated like a lady in. Mick Quinlan's car.
The poor fellow seemed to have a kind of
vemtralion for
" 111:it's my fine, hould girl," cried he,
and (awe drove.
Mum we reached Phil Brennan's forge,
we found ►t surrounded by a crowd.
"Fegg.s, stop along with secs, and see
the fun;" cried Mick, and helping me off
the car, soon made way fur "the young la
dy that was come to see Mrs. Brennan;"
and I lound myself in the centre of the look
ers on, listening to Phil Brennan and a re
spectable looking man in earnest conver
sation.
"My tithes arid dries must be pnid, Mr
Breintan;" exclaimed the latter. "You are
now full a year in arrears. You have put
me off from quarter to quarter, only to add
one quarter to another; I have indulged you,
expostulated with you, warned you, threat.
cued you, and all to the same purpose.
Not a shilling have you paid me for a whole
year. I must have my tithes."
"My expenses have increased of late,"
replied Phil, "and my trade has fallen off."
"I understand," rejoined the clergyman,
"you have got married. The curse of you
Irish! you become husbands and fathers be
fore you can well maintain yourselves, and
honest people are obliged to go without
their dues. I shall give 3 , , uno longer time;
my money must be forthcoming, or the dis
tress shall be executed before I leave this
place."
"You do nothing for me," coolly remarls
ed Phil Brennan.
"what's that you say?"
"You do nothing (or me. I neither trou
ble you to pray for me nor to preach for me.
Why should I pay you your tithes?"
"The law will teach you that, !Ur. Bren
nan;" replied the clergyman.
"To the devil with the law;" retorted
Phil. "I take my house of my landlord,
and I pay him his rent if I can. If I can
not, heAstresses me, if he has a mind; and
I do not grumble, because it is the right as
I well as the law. But I take no house of
you. I never enter your house. I neither
wish it nor want it--I mean that house
which you preach and pray in! I hate it, as
all my forefathers did, that knew any thing
about it. It was built against thoi.. will,
and it stands against mine. I have no call
to your house. What call have you to my
money? "The law gives it you," you say.
Cursed be the law that says "give!" when
right says "no!" It is the law of the mus•
ket.ball! the bayonet! the sword! the jail!
the cat-o'-nine•tails! the gallows! The law
of poor Ireland for many a long—long year!
Levy your distress, parson—you are a mag
istrate as well as a clergyman. You work
or the king six days of the week, and for
the Saviour on the Seventh. One day do
you give to the good of our :souls—small
thanks to you! and six days do you take
care of our bodies—with your bailiffs and
your handcuffs and your jailers! Levy your
distress! Make the • poor man poorer—for
the good of his soul! Grab his half kish of
potatoes, his pipk 111 of milk, and 'his salt
herring! Sell his bed from under him! rake
out his spunk of fire and drive him to the
whislcey•bottle—in the name of Godr and
then drive home in your carriage, and sit
down to your dinner of fish and fowl and
roast meat! Levy your diStress, parson—le
vy your distress! I have neither the will nor
the means to pay you your tithes and (hes!"
In half an bout the furniture of the forge
'was sold off: Next came that of the house;
the door of which was opened by the young
wife and . mother, who came to it with her
little boy in her arms. The minister of
the gospel half stepped back when she pre-
sented herself.
"Good heaven! what is the matter?" she
ejaculated.
Phil Brennan could not speak. Ho was
obliged to hold down his head. I saw a
tear fall upon the lapel of his coat—for I
stood close by him.
"What is the matter, Phil?" again inquir
ed she. Phil made an effort.
"Put on your cloak," said he, without
lifting his head; "go into town, with the
child, to my mother's, and wait for me there."
"Go into town, with the child, to your
mother's!" she echoed. "What's the mat
ter, Phil, that you hold down your head?"
Phil replied not. He stood still for a
moment; then, suddenly stepping into
. the
house, he took her by the hand and drew
her into the little parlour.
"Your reverence will stop for a minute
or two," cried he, as he shut the parlour
►oor. •
In a minute or two Phil Brennan and his
wife to appeared. Her cloak was ore. Her
child in her arms, under it. Phil had his
hat on.
"A good morning to your reverence,"
exclaimed Phil, as he btood for the last time
upon the threshold of his (*lva door;_"a good
morning to your reverence—l thank you
for myself and for my wife,and for her baby,
that'S under her cloak! and, I thank the laws
that give. you leave to drive from under their
own roof, a father and a mother with their
child, for whom, from one end of the year
to the other, you never do a hand's turn,
yet can compel them to pay you Your dues
and your tithes! God judge betwixt us,
Parson--; you have your glebe and your
337 nonmilir WHITE I.IIZOLETOIT, EDITOR, PUB.:MEER AND PROPRIETOR.
"I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MC LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."-SHAKS:
0-2221f2,21 1 Vg1ee ZEkack E) JEta.43 4 4Dottlire GITZLair ZICI E) tlai)43o
servants, and your horses and your coach!
and you come for your tithes and your dues
in the 'name of your Master, as you say,
who had none of these things!—who gave,
where you take!—who wanted, wherein
you are abound! Who was lowly and meek
and merciful, where you are unsparing,
and harsh, and proud. God judge between
us, 1 zay! '.,Take the house and the farm
ture, and every thing! and kindly tell us we
are welcome to the open air--and we know
it—For you cannot deprive us of that; and,
when you preach.- to your flock next . Sun
day, Wier you have been upon your knees
praying with them, he sure you tell them
of the sheep with their lamb, which you
have shorn to the quick—thou g h they never
belonged to your flild!"
Nothing would do Mick Flynn, hut the
car must go b'ick to Clonnaii, with Mrs.
Brennan and her little boy, and her husband
and me. No matter who expected him,
devil a bit of him would drive his horse any
other way, though it was for the sheriff
himself. The sheriff is a great man in the
south of Ireland --thatis, the high-sheriff.
I have seen one give a sound slap on the
ear to a countryman who was standing un
der his box, and who happened to raise his
voice in conversation. Well! (ewe all set
in Mick Quinlan's ear—that is, Mrs. Bren,
nan, the child, and myself. Phil Brennan
walked by our sole in earnest discourse
with two men, who followed him from the
crowd, and who had something peculiarly
wild and restless in the expression of their
countenances. Oue valor another they ad
dressed him in an under voice, but with
vehement energy, as if persuading him to
do something. 1 sat with my hack to his
wife, but, turning round, I saw she was un
easy, and more than once or twice I heard
her half-articulately pronounce her hus
band's natue. At length she could suppress
her feelings no longer.
."Phil Brennan!" she exclaimed.
"Presently—Presently!" replied Phil.
The conversation continued with increas•
ing earnestness. I looked in Phil Bret).
nan's face. I saw anxiety and irresolution
painted in it; while now and then, it lower
ed, as I thought, with. the recollection of
what had been just going on at the forge
and at his house.
"Phil Brennan, 1 want you!" repeated
his wife.
"Presently!" was still his reply. The
momentous argument went on. I looked
again in his face—l saw that it was settling
last into an expression of resolve. His full
blue eyes seemed to dilate; the scowl thick
xycd on hia brerir till the lICSi 01 his counte
nance absolutely darkened with it; his up
per lip, compressed by his nether one, at
last utterly disappeared beneath it.
"Phil! Phil! Phil Brennan!" again ejac
ulated his wife. This time he returned no
reply. His companions had ceased talk
ing, and looked as if they were waiting
some answer which they expected. Phil
and they suddenly stopped short. Hands
were jnined. Heads were laid together; a
whisper passed; the pair turned back, and
Phil Brennan rejoining us, leaped beside
his wife upon the car. We reached don
mel in silence.
A week passed without my seeing them;
but, the following one, by the same strange
fatality to which I have alluded, my mother
and I became inmates of the same house.-
r Thrgot to mention that my mother was a
widow, and that I was her only child.
Our own house took fire and was burnt to
the ground. Phil Brennan was among
the first that came to the spot, and his imme
diate care was to get us out and convey us
to his mother's. There my mother, upon
small persuasion, made up her mind to stop
until her own house, which, together with
the furniture was fully ensured, should be
rebuilt.
Phil Brennan had many friends; and some,
among the many, stanch ones. These put
their heads together; and, in less than a
month, he was set up in business in Clon
mel; his work-shop—the forge—being upon
the opposite side of the way, within about
forty or fifty yards of the house. Market
day was, at that time, a day of note in
Clonmel. Scaring and worrying and de
gradation and torture were the remedies
adopted to induce order among a restless,
wild and impulsive people; refractory, be
cause they found, or thought they found,
any thing but protection in the laws, or
friends in those that enforced them. It
was the especial day for dealing out the
dread awards of justice, inexorable upon
the plea of necessity. Upon that day, in
the most frequented street, was the tree
of the pillory planted; and, through the
dense crowd, the lane of terrour was made
by the car of execution, with the stripped
criminal behind it, and the cat-o-nine-tails
flourishing at his, reddening, trickling back!
Poor Ireland! They may cast the charge
of ignorance in the face of her children!
There is one book in which they are tho
roughly read-‘—every page of which they
have by heart--have conned again and
again—the book of retribution!
I must remark here that the happiness
of Margaret Brennan did not seem to have
been improved by her residence in town.
I frequently observed her in tears, which
she in vain endeavoured to conceal, and
sometimes could not succeed in checking.
Her husband began to lieeplate hours. 1.. y;
ing awake in my bed, I often heard the
street door opened and shut again at mid
night—nay, at one or two o'clock in the
morning. Two or three times I was posi
tive that he never came home at all. Yet,
not the smallest change appeared in his
treatment of his wife. I never saw him go
in or go out without taking her in his arms;
and, whenever he accosted her, his address
was as tender and soft as on the night of
the wedding, when they walked together in
the garden. But, to return to market-day.
One market-day, I never shall forgot.
It was in the harvest time. This day the
town was unusually crowded with labourers,
offering themselves to those who were dis
posed to employ theta to reap. Of these,
there were two divisions; the one consist
leg of men from the county of Kilkenny,
and the other of" Tipperary boys." Each
party occupied a different side of the street.
Employment, that day, seemed to be as
scarce as the applicants for it were nume
rous:and, who could expect an Irish peasant,
in an Irish crowd, and upon a market day,
and in sweet Channel, too, to stand idle?
Faith and sure he must have something to
do besides sporting his nate figure upon
the pavement.
Our boys regarded the Kilkenny boys
with anything but the welcome looks which
an Irishman casts upon a dish el malty
tatoes.
"A rrah, boys!" cried one, "have you no
town in your own county to go to, that you
come to Clonmel?"
"Sore," remarked another, as if correct
ing his companion; "sure 'tis to pay us a
morning visit, and bad manners to you! that
they have taken so long a walk!"
"Have you your sticks wid yees, boys?"
inquired a third. •
"Bad luck to you!" vocierated a fourth.
"What would bring a Kilkenny man with
a stick in his hand to Clonmel?"
The other party now began to retort.
Gibe answered gibe. Those, who had the
laugh on their side, kept their temper: those,
against whom it went, lost theirs. Their
blood grew hot• They sounded the no'e
of preparation with their sticks, which
they rattled against the pavement and
the walls.
"Hurra for the men of Clonmel!" cried
a Cloninel boy, brandishing his shillelagh
in the air; and, in a moment, two or three
hundred sticks were up!—A rush—a close
—and a general fight!
All this time I was in Margaret Bren
nan's room, looking out of the window.
I saw Phil Brennan at the door of his forge,
gazing on quietly, and enjoying the fray
--suddenly I heard the cry ' Shanavat!
Shanavat!" I looked toward the quarter
whence it came, and descried the two men
who had joined Phil Brennan on the day
of distress, running at full speed in the
direetian of the - conibataws, with the view
of tat , ;ng part in the fun!
"Shanavat! Shanavat!" they cried, as
they came on. The combatants caught the
word; it was re-echoed by some: while,
from others, the watch-word of "Caravat"
arose, till at length the din of sticks was
drowned in the cries of "Caravat!" and
"Shanavat!" They fray now raged with
redoubled fury. At the sound of the well
known party words, the ranks of the con
tending peasantry rapidly augmented; now
one side—now another-prevailing. In ten
minutes every window in the street was
thrown up and filled with spectators, stretch
ing out their necks to see the fight; 'while
the shutters of the shops were in universal
requisition.. I could scarcely draw - my
breath. I grew cold and hot, and trem
bled from head to foot; yet I continued look
ing on, perfectly absorbed in what was pass
ing! At length I lotted at the sound of Mar
garet Brennan's iroice, close to my ear.
"Holy mother!" she exclaimed—" what
is he going to do? Phil Brennan!—Phil !
Phil !—Phil Brennan! come here! Hnve
nothing to say to them. Phil Brennan!
Phil Brennan!"
I now saw Phil half-way between his
forgo and the combatants, advancing with a slow
and steady steps, brandishing a sledge-hammer,
which he had taken from tho shop. "Shanavat!
—Shanavat!" he cried, in a voice which the gon.
oral uproar was insufficient to di own. The mo
ment his party caught sight of him, ha was wol.
corned with a tremendous cheer, and in one min
ute the fight was suspended, and every face was
turned in the same direction. Right in the mid.
dlo of the street he walked, and never stopped
when he came up to the crowd; who, instantly
dividing, made a lane for him. There was no
difficulty in distinguishing him, for he was fell a
head and shoulders taller than the tallest man in
the three counties. Nearly midway the field of
action had he traversed, when I saw a different
movement at the farther end. Sticks disappear
ed. Hats were taken off and replaced. Room
was malting for somebody who had just como up.
on the field ofrecent contest, and of whose white,
uncovered head, I was just now and then able to
catch a glimpse.
"Shantivat!" exclaimed Phil, when he had gain.
ed the centre; not a voice beside being raised.
"Phil Brennan!" sternly ejaculated his uncle,
the prie4.; wli4at the very sameioornent, con
fronted him. Phil hold his weap`ob suspended in
the air; , his eye steadily fixed upon his uncle.
"Phil Brennan!" repeated the latter; "where is
the young woman to whom I married you a year
ago, and where is the son that I christened for
you? What has become of them, that I find you
hero, as though you had nobody to care fire but
yourself?' And how is it that you have become
a Shanavat ?—that you have lent a hand in keep.
ing up 04 factions that turn the sons of the land
against oils anothei, as if their common enemies
did not find them work enough; and is there
no chapel or priest in Clonmel, Phil Brennan,
that for the last two months you have neither boon
at confession, nor at mass ?" Ho paused.
Phil eloly lowered the sledge-hammer, his eye
fell before the firm, yet calm gaze of the priest—
and he half thing his head. •
"Go home, sir !" resumed the reverend man;
"and, all of yon go home': • You men 01 Kilken
ny !as well as you men of Cloninel! Break up
your night meetings; and your night expeditious
—and your swearings—and your combats, or look
for no absolution. You may get it, but it avails
you nathinfT, while you continue robbers, and, 1
fear, ors° What good do you get by
your '‘i. , :ions?• To be hunted by the polico
and ••s, and carried away froth your fami.
lies to the jail, and to run the risk of transporta
tion or the gallows ! Shanavats and Caravats.
You call 'yourselves Irishmen—and you aro the
greatest enemies that old Ireland has. The land
is filled with houghing of cattle, ploughing up of
crops, and burnings, and murders, and they lay
it all to your account; and right they aro in do
ing so! And your consciences are growing hard,
and you begin to sot your clergy at defiance ; but
you cannot sot your Maker at defiacco! Go
home ! For a quarter of 8/1 hour I will not stir
from this spot—let mo see which of you will bo
remaining on it, at the expiration of that time I"
Phil Brennan was the first to move; he raised
his head, looked nt his uncle, and respectfully ta.
king off Iris hat, turned, and instantly wont home.
His example was promptly followed.
When Phil entered his house, ho did not, no
usual, go up to his wife, but threw himself in a
chair, and folded his tarns. I made an offer to go,
but :Margaret Brennan whispored me to stop and
take tea with them.
Not a word did Phil speak during tea. Dusk
came on—Night—still not a word from him ! It
now struck nine. It was limo for me logo to bed.
I rose from my chair and approached the door.
"Stop, my deal!" said Phil; "stop, and sit down
again " Ho then rose, approached Ida wife—and,
stooping, kissed her; while she flung her arms
around his neck and wept heartily. She had put
her child to bed. Ho then drew a chair bosido
her and sat down.
"1 have been a had husband to you lately, Mar
garet; though a fond one. I have been a bad hus.
band to you lately; but I will no more be so. I'll
break with the Shnnavats, cost what it may. It
is they that have kept me from coming home to
you at night—and that havo led me into things
which have made my heart a stranger to peace
and quiet over since I became one of them. 1 , 11
have done with them t I'll tell them so. be
a good husband to you, Margaret, fur the future!"
At the commencement of this address her arms
had (Mien from his neck, os she listened with doop
attention to what ho said. They wore now
thrown round it again— , and she kissed him pas
sionately, tier tears flowing all the time, for , joy.
Suddenly she started, and. turned her head in the.
direci ion of the window.
"What's that 7" she exclaimed.
"What ?" was his brief rejoinder; whiln his
countenance suddenly lowered with an expres
sion of uneasy conjecture.
"1 hoard a whistle!" she resumed: "the same
that I have hoard many a night when I have look
ed in vain for you to comp homo!"
"I did not hear it!" said Phil.
"Ay!—there it is again!" said his
Phil Brennan slowly rose upon his fact. He
looked toward the window—then 'looked at his
wife; and, folding his arms, gazed vacantly at
the candle, as utterly lost in irresolution. Mar
garet all the time sat with her eyes fixed upon the
g round, without attempting to utter a word. An
other whistle! Phil started from his revery—
caught up his hat and put it on—rushed toward
his wife, embraced and kissed her.
"This is the lust time:" cried Phil—and ho
darted out of the room !
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
VARIOUS DIATTErtg.
The speech Of THADDEUS STEVENS, Esq.,
on the Education Bill, will be found on the
first page of this paper. The friends of that
law, and the lovers of eloquencemill be rich.
ly compensated for the perusal. All par.
ties unite in bestowing the highest commen
dations on this effott of Mr. Stevens.—Bed
ford inquirer.
WHAT ARE THE WHIGO—The following
definition of the principles of a Whig, we
give for the benefit of those Van Buren men
who do not understand the same and affect
to despise the name. It is from the pen of
Benjamin Franklin:
"The Whig lives in every state, but wish
es to live only in a free state. e claims
no right in himself but what he is willing to
give to his neighbor. He is not listed in
sects by bounds, nor kept in them by preju
dice; his mind is not contracted by systems,
nor sacred bigots; it is open to God and na
ture; he is not attached to persons or factions,
but to things, to justice, to liberty, te,virtue
and to his country. He adheres to men who
adhere to these; and adheres to them no
longer than they adhere to those. With
like contempt of promises and menaces, un
awed by power he is attached to these.--
Not lurking like a drone to reap what others
sow, he cheerfully acts his part in society;
he does what he can; he endeavors, within
his sphere, to promote the general welfare.
No matter what you call him, what his
name, his profession, or the title of his reli
gion—" This is a HIG."
The people of North Carolina have deci
ded by a vote of 27,550 to 21,694, in favor
of a convention for the amendment of the
constitution. Elections are to be held in the
several counties of the State, for the choice
of delegates to the convention, on Thursday,
May 21.
HAMMERING BY STEAM.—There is no
pause, no stop to the inventive genius of our
countrymen. A physician of Boston has
invented a machine, consisting of numerous
hammers which go by steam, the force and
rapidity of which will enable the owners of
the rich granite quarries of Massachusetts
and New Hampshire,to dress and face blocks
of this hard rock for building in a very short
time, and at a cheap rate. This had been a
serious difficulty; and it is now overcome.
SAIVDY AND BEAVER CANAL --The Penn
sylvania and Ohio Canal Systems are to be
united by two Cross Cut or Grand Junction
Canals—the southern line of connection,
called the Sandy and Beaver Canal, is to be
placed immediately under contract. E. H.
Gill, Esq. of Philadelphia, has been appoin
ted Chiet Engineer. There is no doubt but
this work will be commenced at once, and
soon completed. Meantime, we trust means
will be taken by all parties interested, to
secure the completion of the Susquehanna
Canal from Columbia to tide, as soon as may
be. This laqt improvement ought to be
completed at least afi soon as the Grand
Junction- Canals, above mentioned, are
brought into operation. There is nothing
like a fair start in the competition for the
[WHOLE N0..2670:---.4.-1
vast commerce which will flow into:llW
Pennsylvania Canal, from the heart of 1110,
State of Ohio, so soon as that route tom t it•OF :
ket is made available, by , , the oFettiouoilic
these connecting lines.' •
Speaking of the Csoss Cur Canal anyl of
its importance to- that city, the Pittsbutc,
Gazette says:--The work will go on--wi ll;
,
be soon completed=the prosperity of Pitts
burg is placed beyond tile reach of any 'or
dmary circumstance. Her destinies- will
rapidly unfold themselves, and the head - rit --
the Ohio, which was so early nn important„
point in the operations of hostile .nations;;.
will become equally prominent in the peace.-
ful pursuits of commerce and manufactures:: "
THINGS A FAitMEIt. SHOULD NOT DO*
A farmer should never undertake , to-eu1t , ...7
tivate more land than beam do thoreughly
half tilled land is growing poorer—well till ,- L4• -
ed land is constantly improving.
A farmer should never keep moro-caftt,e,';i,:
horses, sheep or hogs, than he can keep` in
good order; an animal in high erdet- the firsti;
of December, is already half wintered.
A farmer should never Alepend hie
neighbor for what he can, by care and good
management, produce on his own farm;
should never beg fruit while he can plant:.
trees, or borrow tools while he can make
buy; a high authority has said,. the borrow-.
or is a servant to tho lender.
The farmer should never be so immersed
in political matters, as to forget toltow biti :-
wheat, dig his potatoes, and bank up MS
lar; nor should he be so inattentive to them .
as to remain ignorant of those great qaes.;''
tions of natiorral and state policy which wilr
always agitate, more or less, a freepeople:"
A farmer should shun the doors ola bank,'
as he would an approach of the plague .or=
cholera; banks are for men of speculation,
and theirs is a business with which farriers;
should have little to do.
A farmer should never be ashamed of hii
calling; we know that no man can be entire•
ly independent, yet the farmer should., re.
member, that if any one can be said to pos...
sess that enviable distinction, he ist he nnati.:
No farmer should allow the reproach : of
neglecting education to lie against himself
or family; if knowledge is power, the begin:.',
ning of it should be early and deeply laid in
thedistrict school.
A farmer should never.use ardent spirits
as a drink; if, while undergoing severe fa:.
tigue, and the hard labors of the surnmeri
he would enjoy robust health, let him
.be
temperate in all things.
A farmer should never refuse a fair, price
for any thing he wishes to sell; .we have
known a man%vito had several hundred bush
e!s of wheat to dispose of, refused 88. be
cause he wanted Bs. 6d, and:after keeping
hts wheat six months, was glad to get t;ts, qd.„
for it.
A farmer should never allow his wood.
house to be emptied of wend during the-sum
mer months; Who does, when winter comes,,
in addition to cold fingers, he must cxpect ,
to encounter the chilling looks of his wile,'
and perhaps be compelled, in a series of led
tures, to learn that the man who burna green',
wood has not mastered the A B Cof dolma
,
tic economy.
A farmer sheuld never allow hts witiloWs
to be filled with red cloaks, tattered coats,
and old hats; if he does, he will most saw
edly acquire the reputation of a man 'who , '
tarries long at the whiskey, leaving his wife.
and children to freeze or starve at hOme.
There are three things of which the Ivan
who aims at the character of a prosperous
farmer will never bo niggardly—manure,
tillage, and seed; and there are three things
of which he will never he too liberal—proni.:
ises, time and credit.—Genessee Farnier,..
TnE DUTCII.—A French writer, speak
ing of Holland, says: "I never knew a calm
-
try in which there was such p . lenty Of every
thing. They have no vines in the ceuntry,
and there are more wines in their cellars
than in those of Bordeaux; they h ave
forests, and there is more ',hip building
ber in their dock yards than at the sources-')
of the Meuse and of the Rhine, from which •
their oaks are transmitted. Holland con
tains little or no arable ground, and her gra
naries contain • more corn than any other
kingdom in Europe. The sane thing holds
true as to articles of luxury; for• though
they observe great simplicity in dress, fur
niture and domestic economy, there is more
marble on sale in their magazinesoban lies
cut in the queries of Italy and of the
pelage: more diamonds and pearls in their
caskets, than in those of jewellers of NMl
gal; and more rose wood, ActijOu, -Sandal,
and India canes, than there are in all Europe
besides, though their own country produces
nothing but willows and linden trpea."
,
A petition was presented in tne flouts(' 54
Commons on the let of April, &ono the Eng
lish residents of Beauharnois, (Lower Cina
da) complaining of tho oppression of the
Frenbh majority of that 'Colony, and pray ,
ing relief.
The Baltimore Chronicle thinks - it - not
unlikely, that Mr. Bum will be appointed
Governor of Michigan. . .
A prospectus has been issued in N. To,*
for the establishment of n Sunday pppeTon
the plan of those published in Loudon.; . - it -
is to be issued in the morning, before church
hours.
Louisiana has now 50 millions of banking
capital, the largest of any state in.tho
Fifteen millions of this amount was • *WO
by the Legislature in their !stage
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