4clitat -. 40b. 11;0141,:ticitit • iteilititt
[D. A. lIIIEIII.KR, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
VOL. XV11. 7 -3. I
POETRY
Forgive and Forget.
2y the author of "Proverbial Philosophy."
When streams of unkindness as bitter as gall,
Bubble up from the heart to the tongue,
And meekness is Writhing in torment and thral
By the hand of ingratitude wrung—
In the heat of injustice, unwept and unfair,
While the anguish is festering yet,
None, none but an angel of God can declare:
"I now can forgive and forget."
But if the bad spirit is chased from the heart,
And the lips are in penitence steeped,
With the wrong so repented the wrath will depar
Though scorn on injustice were heaped :
For the best compensation is paid for all ill,
When the cheek with contrition is wet— •
And every one feels it is possible still,
At once to forgive and forget.
To forget 1 It is hard for a man with a mind,
However his heart may forgive,
To blot out all perils and dangers behind,
And but for the future to live;
Then how shall it be? For at every turn
Recollection the spirit will fret,
And the ashes of injury smoulder and burn,
Thotlgh we strive to forgive and forget.
Oh, hearken! my tongue shall the riddle unseal,
And mind shall be partner with heart,
While thee to thyself I bid conscience to reveal,
And show thee how evil thou art ;
Remember thy follieS, thy sins,and thy crimes—
How-vast is that infinite debt !
Yet mercy has seven by seventy times
Been swift to forgive and forget.
Brood not on dsults or injuries old,
For thou art injurious too—
Count not the sum till the total is told,
For thou 'art unkind and untrini
And all thy harms arc forgOtten, forgiven,
Now mercy with justice is mefl;
Oh, who would not gladly take lesons of Heaven,
Nor learn to forgive and forget ?
Yes, yes, let a man, when his enemy weeps,
Be quick to receive him a friend ; - -
For thus on his head in kindness he heaps
Hot coals to refine and amend :
A.nd hearts that are Christian more eagerly yearn,
As a nurse on her innocent pet,
Over lips that, once bitter, to penitence turn,
And whisper forgive and forget.
MISCELLANY.
MABEL;
OR THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY
The sun had scarcely topped the high
grounds which had enclosed the valley of
..-theitsleath, when its whole community,
like bees disturbed, were seen in strange
Commotion from the bartizan of the tower,
whither the kinsmen had repaired to hold,
some private converse while the morning
meal was served in the hall below. It was
well that this isolated place had been cho
sen for the interview ; and feelings he
would not have betrayed in the presence of
any but a favorite kinsman, here were free-,
ly vented while Hugh Maxwell consigned
his beautious lady to his cousin's care.—
Not a word escaped the young knight's
lips, but silently wrung the borderer's hand,
looked on with a melting eye, which but a
brief month before, would have kindled at,
a call to arms, then whispered in the bride
groom's ears,—
"Hugh, when I neglect the trust thou
bast confided to me, may dishonor sit upon
my Crest and Heaven reject the recreant !"
The last sad meal was now over, the
secret parting of two young hearts, whose
dream of bliss had been almost too exquisite
for mortals to imagine, and the dispersion of
which had caused the poignance of grief
attendant on human mutability, when the
bowl of joy, sparkling at the laughing lip,
is dashed from the drinkers grasp, by the
withering touch of unexpected misfortune—
this may be fancied but not written. The
borderers were in the saddle. Ralph Max-,
well's pennon was flaunting in the wind,
and as powerful a brown charger as ever
bore a full armed knight upon a battle-field
pawed the earth impatiently. Why dallies
the lingering rider, while every face be
side responded to a proud motto with which
a king had once rewarded the alacrity of
that gallant house when their royal master
had called them to his aid ? Cold man !
little knowest thou what the lover feels'
when severed from a bride—and such a
bride, too, as Mabel Foster. The knight
of Carlavprock guessed well the scene that
was passing in the tower—'twas charity
to end it. "Sound the bugle, Hubert !"
he said to an attendant; and, ere the bugle
note was answered by the mountain echo,
Dark Hugh was in the saddle. • The ri
ders silently remarked that their chief's
vizor was down, the word to march came
.through the close-barred helmet ; for, vere
the truth known, a moistened cheek was
hidden beneath the steel head-piece of '
the borderer. As slowly as the gallant
horsemen passed through the winding
strath, many a glistening eye was turned
on the loved riders for the last time. Two
female forms were seen upon the bartizan
which overlooked_the valley; one Was-the
deserted bride, the other Hugh Maxwell's
mother. In silent agony, poor Mabel's
tear-dimmed eye followed the receding fi
gure of her handsome lord, and a wild burst
of lamentation marked her sorrow; When
a huge rock shut the riders from her view.
Well might the fairbride grieve !
"Long may.that lady look in vain !
Sho ne'er shall .re his gallant train
Come sweeping hack."
Oft from that' bat-az:in the aged—dame
who stood at Mailers side had viewed fife
hold moss-troopers, who rode at the coin
mand of her departed lord, prance merrily
down the swath when ' , bound lin the bor-
der,'" and hvn liar sun'g, followers reach-
From Frazcr's Magazine
ed the spot where the crag projected its
rock mass from the hill-side, she counted
the horsemen deliberately, as file after file
they disappeared behind it.
"By Saint Andrew, a noble troop !" she
murmured; "three and twenty sta!wart
riders ! Ha! would they were more or
less by one,—never did that number bring
luck to the name of Maxwell !"
" Alas !" returned the sobbing bride,
what racks my bosom is not the number
who ride out, but that which may return."
That speech was fraught with evil s au
gury. Of the sturdy band that left the
strath, who, hand to hatid, would have bid
den buffet with the stoutest forayers who I
ever swam the ,Tweed, but five returned
with life,—
"To town and town, to down and dale";
To tell red Flodden's dismal tale,
And raise the universal Ivail.
Tradition, legend, timeand song,
Shall many an age that wail prolong ;
Still from the sire the son shall hear
Of the stern strife and carnage &ear',
Of Flodden's fatal field—
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear,
And broken was her shield."
• More than a twelvemonth had elapsed
since Hugh Maxwell and his retainers had
ridden from the wadi of, Glensleath—a
nother harvest had come round. But, `Olt !
what a contrast did the lonely glen present
to that which it had'exhibited when the
sickle the pieceding year had been put in
requsition! Scaice half the crofts in spring
time had felt the ploughshare„a slight re
turn ofgrain remunerated imps feat tillage;
but still the frightful picture of the fearful
consequences which follow war, might
have been found defective, had not the ap
pearance of those who were employed in
gathering the wretched harvestgivenstrong
but tacit evidence.
In the ill-cultivated fields, with a few
exceptions, old age and youth alone were
'toiling ; not a full-grown form Was seen
among the feeble group, .and-woman es
sayed the labor which lusty manhood
should have claimed. Where were the'
bold riders of the strath ? few were
resting in their father's grave—the bones
of more were resting on the cold - hill-side
of Flodden. Many a proud family in Scot
land had sad reason to curse the folly of
their rash and wayward king ; but none had
greater cause to lament the monarch's in
fatuation, than the once important house of
Nithsdale. When theleft wing of the Scot
tish army was broken, and the, sight had
disbanded for the sake of plunder, the fury
of the English chivalry was launched
against the centre, where the Maxwells
were arrayed beneath the royal banner.—
Gallant, but unavailing, was the resistance
of that devoted family while they withstood'
the combined efforts of Surrey's left wing
and the English reserve ; while
"Front, flank, and rear, their squadrons sweep,
To break the Scottish circle deep,
That fought around their king. '
But yet, though thick the shafts as snow,
Though charging knights like whirlwinds go,
Though billmen ply the ghastly blow,
Unbroken was the ring ;
The stubborn spearmen still made good
Their dark, impenetrable wood,
Each stepping where his comrade stood
Tho instant that he fell.
No thought was there of dastard flight,
Linked in the serried phalanx tight;
Groom fought like noble—squire like knight,
As fearlessly and well,
Till utter darkness closed her will
O'er their thin host and wounded king."
Of five brothers of the house of Carley
crock, four died sword in hand—the fifth,
young Ralph, being carried from the field
by a devoted follower, when Surrey drew
off his forces, and from the ied hill-side,
"Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one
The sad survivor—all were gone."
It may be readily imagined that the ter
rible defeat sustained by the Scottish army,
on the fatal oth of September, plunged the
kingdom into universal grief ; for there
was hardly a noble house throughout the
land which had not relatives to mourn.—
If the castle were fearfully visited, the cot
tage did not escape—peasant and peer had
been involved in the same desperate calam
ity ; and when tile name of Flodden was
heard, the old man shuddered for the son
he lost, and the smile died on the infant's
cheek whom that disastrous day had ren
dered fatherless. In affliction so general,
that of the Maxwells was pre-eminent;
for, from the proud earl to the common
spearman, many a bereaved family was
"left lamenting." Alas ! two hundred of
the clan had Callen.'
Of the many who did not return from
the "lost battle," the gallant bridegrooni of
Mabel Foster was unhappily included.-..
For many a day succeeding the fatal flight,
wounded stragglers dragged themselves to
their native glens ; and there, were the
hurt medicable, the gentle agency of wo
man was not employed in vain ; and if the
injury was mortal, the eyes of the dying
, borderer were closed by those he loved in
I life. Weeks passed, but Hugh of Glens
' loath 'did not come back to his fair bride
and lonely tower—nor haathe border beau
! ty the pleasure of smoothing the pillovi
of him for'whom kindred and home had
been abandoned. Nor to the falleri knight
were the rights of Christian sepulchre per
mined. Like his royal master's,' Hugh
Maxwelle corpse could not be distinguished
among the maimed bodies which heaped the
battle-field, and with many a departed gal
lant he filled a common grave.
Slowly and doubtfully young Ralph's
recovery proceeded. Months intervened,
before lie
_regained strength to keep the,
saddle; but the moment hp' was able to qc- . ,
complish thejourney he hastened to the
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, APRIL 3, 1846
house of mourning to offer his condolence
to the sufferer, and acquaint the bereaved
one that her deceased lord had committed
the fair widow to his cousin's care. In
deed protection was required. The `con
sequences of border warfare were always
the loosing upon the world a number of
reckless men, whom loss of property or
kindred had driven to desperation. Hith
erto the Maxwells were too powerful to
dread any wandering marauders, who pass
ed them 1?y, to plunder others with impu
nity. But the strength of the proud house
was shorn—their best and bravest tiere no
more—freebooters no longer respected a
name whose anger once the boldest receiv
er on the borders would not have ventured
to provoke. Of all the detached, families
of the house of Carlaverock, that of Glens
leath had suffered most 'severely ; and ere
six months had passed after the defeat of
Flodden, twice had the strath been foray
ed and a quantity of cattle driveh off.
The meeting of Mabel Maxwell and her
fair kinsman, was affecting; for the last
time she had looked upon her lord, when
living, was itt the presence of young Ralph,
and the fatal parting with her lover was
painfully recalled. In the appearance of
both, "tokens true" of that calamitous day
for Schtland, which laid "her king, her
lords, her mightiest low," were visible.
The youthful knight no longer exhibited
"footstep, light and spirit high," as he en
tered the hall of his deceased kinsman; the
bloom had faded from -his cheek, and the
bright blue eye was lustreless ; while She,
the once famed border flower, habited in
sable weeds, threw herself in speechless
agony upon her kinsman's breast, and sob
bed as if her heart were bursting. Gently
the youth whispered his condolence—min-'
utes elapsed—and suddenly another im
pulse seized the mournershe sprang from
the_ arms of him who supported, signed to
her cousin - to be seated by .her side, wiped
her tears away, and in a voice that had as
sumed astonishing composure shcr asked,
' "Tell me how Hugh Maxwell died !"
"Alas ! dear Mabel," said - the young
knight, "even in that I.ani unable to pleas
ure thee, for, ere that sad event occurred, I
was borne to the earth by an English ri
der, and how I was dragged afterwards
froM thefield I wot not. Evening was'
closing. Lord Dacre's .horse assailed our
centre furiohsly ; hedging their wounded
monarch with their bodies, the flower of
tho Scottish nobles were lighting hand to
hand, English chivalry charged
where the royal banner still formed a ral
lying point for those who disdained to fly.
In the thickest of the fray, and for the last
time, I heard by brother's war-cry, and at
his right hand I saw thy noble husband
dealing death around. I knew no more.—
Hark ! a bugle !"
As the young knight spake be sprang
front his seat, and looked from the case
ment of the tower, which opened down
the glen.
"A. sturdy band !" he cried ; "St. George
emblazoned on their pennon, too! Eng
lish, by Heaven !"
Young Mabel gazed at the horsemen,
who were now within a bow-shot of the
tower. Paler and paler grew her cheek;
at last suspicion changed to certainty, and,
sinking to the seat she had risen from, she
exclaimed, "May the Virgin protect me !
It is my father! His frown will kill
me !"
A few Minutes passed. Young- Ralph
endeavored to restore the lady's courage.
The ringing of spurs and rapiers was-heard
as several armed men ascended the stone
stairs, the door flew open, and the warden
of the middle marches entered the hall.
Whatever might have been the old
knight's intents, and whether he had come
reproach a daughter who had erred in fi
-1 lial duty anti deserted her father's hall, his
angry mood instantly gave place to pity.—
The stern countenance of the warden soft
ened, he paused within a pace or two • of.
his agitated child.
"Mabel !" he said in a voice whose com
passionate tones betrayed at once the feel
ings of the father—"how couldst thou
wound the pride and wring tile heart of
one who loved thee so fondly as I did ?"
In another moment nature did the rest,
the child was sobbing on her parent's bo
som, and tears stole down tile rugged cheeks
of one of the rudest warriors of that rude
day. *
* Six months elapsed ; the
feud between the Fosters and the Max
wells had been staunched, and under the
joint protection of two potent houses the
relict of Hugh Glensleath remained un- disturbed in her lonely towers. Her cas
tle was respected, forayers no longer ven
tured to approach the strath. The spirit
of her late husband's kindred, which Red
Flodden had almost crushed, was gradually
reviving. Once more two hundred Max
wells could take the saddle, and as - many
Fosters were ready to ride at the fair one's
command.
Mabel had become a mother, and on the
third day after the anniversary of her lord's
death, his relict laid aside her mourning,
and prepared to welcome a goodly compa
ny who were expected that afternoon' to
honor the" melancholy ceremony, which
was to give a dead father's name to his or
phan heir. When evening came, the hall
was crowded with high born guests, while
court yard and offices below were thronged
'with their squires and attendants. •
The sacred rite was over, a noble banquet
followed, all Went merry as a marriage
bell, and in deep_ draughts the Maxwellsand Fosters pleoked each_Other right lion
_
"FEARLESS AND FREE.
estly, that for the future their pennons
should flutter side by side, and their pick
ers ride shoulder to shoulder. But' in that
merry hall more than one aching heart was
beating. The baptismal rite had painfully
recalled the memory of her deceased lord
to the beauteous Widow, while sanctioned
by a parent's consent, her former admirer
' was about to renew his suit, and urge, for
the second time, his claims upon the fair
Mabel's hand. In the deep recess formed
by a casement, Ralph of Carlaverock was
standing alat from the company, engaged
in a deep converse with a palmer, and so
deeply were the company engaged ;n joy
ous revelry that none seemed to notice or
regard them. •
At last the noisy merriment subsided
fora moment, when the bold knight of Cold
inghan announced health to the heir and
happiness to the lady of the tower. The
loud pledge within was answered by a loud
cheer without,-as every goblet was drained:
to'the bottom, and fora time theglen echoed
back the festive outburst. When silence
returned, he of Coldingbam respectfully ad
dressed the beauteous widow, urged his
unshaken love, reclaimed a hand, his for
merly, and by a father's sanction.
Deep silence followed the knight'§ dec- :
laration, and every eye rested on Mabel
Maxwell. - Ralph's cheeks turned pale,
and as the palmer stretched his tall figure
from the recess, he too seemed hanging on
the lady's answer with deeper interest than
one removed-from Worldlfanxieties - might
be supposed' to feel. The warden whis
pered in his daughter's car—it might be to
restore her courage or back her lover's suit.
Pallid and trembling, the fair one rose.
For a few moments her lips appeared to
move; but node could catch what fell from
them. Some sudden impulse seemed to
nerve her—her eyes turned on the wall a
gainst which the blood-stained pennoit and
(tinted. head-piece of her departed lord were
hung, and with a returning calmness which
surprised the company, she thus addressed
the knight :• _ -
"I thank you, noble sir, for the honor you
have conferred, & the courtesy with which
you have overlooked a former disappoint
ment. For the constant love you profess,
a widowed heart like mine could find none
to make a suitable return. With the.dead
my affections arc hurried, and the hand
given'to him who rests on Flodden side
shall neverihe pledged to living man a
gain 1"
The knight by turns became red and
pale. His pride was wounded, and, sooth
to say, the refusal on the lady's part was
rather unexpected. The warden appear,
ed still more mortified, and springing up
'he caught his daughter's hand.
"Nay, sir knight !" he exclahned,"heed:
hernot !—'tis but a woman's waywardness !
Mabel, thou wedded once to pleasure thy
self, and thou shalt mate thee now to please
thy father! Knight of Coldingham thus
do I plight thee the hand of Mabel Max
well ! '
"I deny thy right and I forbid the cere
mony !" exclaimed a deep voice from the
recess, and the palmer stepped forward to
the centre of the hall.
'•Who art thou ?" exclaimed the angry
warden, "who dares gainsay a father's
•
power?"
"One who brings tidings from the Holy
Land, where, under vow of miraculous re-
covery, he has for many a month been wan
Bering,"
"Peace, fellow !" returned the warden,
"doss thou impugn a father's right to re
place a dead htitheitil with.a living one ?"
"How know ye that the fair dame is
witlowed?" demanded the stranger.
"Pshaw ! thy words, Palmer, are sheer
mockery ! the knight rests in his grave."
" "cis false !--the knight stands in this
hall!" and flinging his russet cloak away,
Mabel sprang into the stranger's arms and
fainted on his bosom.
As the lady gradually recovered, Dark
Hugh murmured as he pressed the lovely
one to his heart, and covered her blushing
cheeks with kisses :
"Yes, Mabel, fondly does the memory
of that blessed evening return that made
the border flower mine, and all that beau
ty can bestow was given me in thy peer
less self;—all that fancy could picture I
found realized, sweet girl, in thee! But
ah! what was the lover's rapture to that
with which I press thee to this bosom,
now my own—my tried—my faithful
one ?"
TUE PRIMAL CURSE.—Labour is some
times thought to be part of the woe pro
bounced upon Adam. We do not so read
it; or, if a woe, it is a lesser woe driving
out the greater. We are more inclined to
look on idleness as the curse, and labor as
the cure. How often are these two words
curse and cure, mis-spelt, and one taken
for the other ; and what mischief arises !
The A B C of morals is thought very plant,
but learners make sad mistakes.,.. '
Tlie following is the best definition o
a loafer we have yet seen: "A person wh..
begs all the tobacco he uses—knows more
people than are acquainted with him, when
he meets them—ofteit 'looks at his bor
rowed watch to seethe time, and takes the
papers six months and then slopes." ,
Judge McLean declines the Presidency
of the American Bible Society. The time
Of Ito Wing courts renders it impracticable
for him tit be present at the - ammaL meet
ings.of the Society, and he, therefore de
clines to assume the duly Which he `can
tut dischae,
.
From the German of Richter. I "LOON TO THE SENATE!" are' the. om i-
THE LANGUAGE OF THE HEART. nous words of warning with . which . the
Once came the roving genius of the hu- Senate has been assailed. We accept the,
man race to Jupiter, and prayed "Father, watch-word, while we despise the. Wen
!
give to men a better language. They have tion that gave it utterance. We do look
only words to express joy, grief or love." to the Senate. We rejoiceto believe that ,
' "Have I not given them tears ?" said Ju
-1 the country lookti to it, with well-founded"
piter, "tears of joy, tears ofsorrow, tears of confidence in its . wisdom and liatrietisin,.
love ?" The Genius replied, "tears do notwithstanding the attempts of .doma-'
not speak all the heart. Father, give them gogues to weaken its ' influence with the
another speech, that they may utter their I people, simply because it stands like a
infinite longings,--may paint the lingering 1 rock
.in the way .oe their rash and wicked'
light of the morning star of childhood- 7 -0 r 1 devices. The country has owed its or.'
the rosy dawn of youth, or the golden glow 'ration to the Senate more than onee ? '.and_,
of the life to cone, shed on the clouds be- w e are happy in believing that we are a 7,
fore them, after the sun has set. Give . bout being indebted to it again for saving
them a language of the heart, my father." (us from the guilt-and misery of a war' for;
Then Jupiter heard amid the melody of the I the wilds of Oregon. •The presses of ' the
spheres, the Muse of Song approaCh. He' ultra Locofocos are unanimous and 'deter: -
beekoned_to him and said: "Go unto men mined in their hostility to the Senate,* be
and teach them thy language." The Muse, cause they find its sober counsels a fatal'
of Song came down to Men and taught I font° their wild and ever-changingschemes,
them Music, and from that time the heart For this very purpose it' was ' created by
could speak.. the constitution, and for fulfilling its of ice
deserves, and will receive, the confidence
and honor of the nation. '
New Jersey Fredonian.-
PRIDE IN DRESS---A FABLE FOR THE
YOUNG-A little boy and girl were once
seated on a flowery bank, and talk ing proud
ly about their dress. "See," said the boy,
"Mtt a beautifid—ne* hat I liave got;
what ,a fine blue jacket and trousers ; and
what a nice pair of shoes ; it is not every
one who is dressed so finely as' I am !"
"Indeed, sir," said the little girl, "I think
I-am dressed finer than you, for I have 019,
a silk hat awl pelisse, and a fine feather in
my hat; I ow that my dress cost a great
deal of money."
"Not so much as mine," said the boy,
"I know."
• .
"llold your peace," said a caterifillar,
crawling near in the hedge; "you have
neither of you'any reason to be so proud
of your clothes, for tilt) , are only second,
handed; and hair& - all been worn by some
creature or other, of which you think but
meanly,- before they were put upon you.—
'Why, that silk hat first wrapt up such a
worm as I am." -
"There, Miss, what do you say to that?"
said the boy.
"And the feather," exclaimed a bird,
perched upon a tree—" Was stolen from, or
cast oiTby one of my race."
"What do you say to that, Miss ?" re
peated the boy. "Well, - my clothes were
neither worn by birds nor worms."
"True;" said a,sheep, grazing close by,
"but they were worn on the back of some
of my family before- they were yours ;.and,
as for your hat, I know that the beavers
have supplied the fur for that article; and
my friends, the calves and oxen, in that
field, were killed not merely to get their
flesh to eat, but also to get their skins to
make your shoes." /-
See the folly Of; being proud of our
clothes, since we are indebted.to the mean
est creature for them ; and even then we
could not use them, if God did not give us
the wisdom to contrive the best way of
making them fit to wear, and the means of
procuring them for our comfort.
THE DRUNKARD'S WILL.-I leave to so
ciety a ruined character, a wretched me
mory that will soon rot.
I leave to my parents during the rest o
their lives, as much sorrow, as humanity,
in a feeble and desperate state, can sustain.
I leave to my brother and sister as much
mortification and injury as I could well
bring on them.
I leave to my wife, a broken heart, a life
of wretchedness, a ,shame to weep over
them, a premature death.
I give and bequeath to each of my chil-
ren, poverty, ignorance, a low character,
and remembrance that their father was a
drunkard.
GOOD Nistonnoattooe.—About three
weeks since a saw and grist-mill were burnt
at Vinalhaven. It was whispered_ about
among the neighbors over the Island that,
on a certain day, all the men and boys
should assemble with teams, and spend at
lea one day for the benefit of the sufferer.
At .evn the town was in motion.—
. ,
Iltitive ;On and kwo hundred men, and
thirty-five teams repaired to the woods,
and soon the• oldlnill-site became throb:gad
with sturdy laborers. The timber for tIO'
two mills was hauled, hewn, and . thewliole
nearly ready for raising before night. ' That
was the- right spirit; and, with such aprin T
ciple of benevolence in active exercise,
most of the crushing rigors of life: could be
greatly mitigated or prevented.
Bangor. Whig.
ALTIMORE - CONFERENCE.—The Balti
more Conference of the Methodist Episco
pal Church has unanimously resolved -to
remain in connexion with the Methodist
Episcopal Church; to resist, as it uni
formly done from the first, the introduction
of slavery among its members; to hold nd
connexion with any eclesiastical body that
shall make non-slaveholding a condition of
membership in-the church, and to stand
by the dicipline as it is. The 'Conference
has also expressed its determination to fa
vor the division of the general funds of the
Church, as provided for in the plan of sep
aratiOn. There was at no time any
warmth of feeling or division of seniimeut
I
respecting these matters. So says a letter
from a member of tl i te Conference; publish
ed' in the North American. • .
SCRATCHt:B 124 HonsEs.--The sprinkling
oflia.ster of Paris on stable floors, is not
only an excellent plan for retaining the ter.
tilizing gait ef . Amonia for manure, but it
prevents horses having the. scratches Qr
sore heels.-
TI RMS-TWO DOLLARS PER ANNTM.]
WHOLE NO. 835
SALT TO AID DECOMPOSITION.—Prof.
Johnson has done more than any other man
to extend the use of salt as a manure,by giv
ing to the world his excellent essay on salt
used on soils, and the mass of experiments
he has recorded. It appears that salt in
small portions, promotesAlte decompodi-%
tion of animal and vegitable itibstances ;
that it destroys vermin and kills weeds ;
that it is a direct constituent of som'e plants,'
and therefore necessary to their perfection;
that all.cultivated plants of marine origin
contain it; asparagus for instance; and all
such succeed better when watered with
salt-water, than when deprived of it ; that
salt preserves vegetables from injury by'
sudden transitions - in--temperature, salted
soils not freezing as readily *as those to
wnich salt has not been applied, and that
it renders the earth more capable of absorb
invite moisture of the atmosphere. _
The seed of sin-flowers has been found
to render chickens not only fat, but the
flesh is also rendered tender and juicy.—,'
An experiment„ stated in , the New Eng
land Farmer, in which fowls were shut up.:
and fed with those seeds, is worthy., the ,;
special attention of farmers.
AGRICULTURAL Errrnapirunr.—A noble
Agricultural enterprise is now 'kaki'
importing into this country that variety of
the Peruvian sheep known ii ‘ 8 the . Alpaca.
They will thrive well at t e South, and
companies have been former) in - Kentucky, ,
and other States, and funds raised, and a
vessel will soon proceed on a voySge for
importing the Alpaca.
SECRET FOR A FARMER'S WlFE.—While
the milking of your cows •is going on, let
your pans be placed in a kettle of , boiling
water. Strain the milk into one of the
pans taken hot from the kettle, and cover
the same with another of these hot pans,
and proceed in like manner with the whole
mess of milk, and you will find'that you
will have double the quantity of good rich
cream, and that you will get double the
quantity of sweet delicious -butter.
SHEEP DESTROYED.—In the different
counties in the state of Ohio, sad havoc is
made' by the dogs among the sheep. -In .
Warren county alone it is estimated that
300 are thus destroyed annually, and that
in the State the damage issBo,ooo by this
mode of destruction. A farmer in Warren
county lately lost fifty sheep by dogs in a
single night...
rowe.—Efforts are making towards di
viding this Territory so that it may fOrn°
two convenient States. The line proposed
is the - forty-second degree of north latitude:
The southernmost division of the territor,
would then be about one hundred and twen
ty,miles wide, thus forming a State com
pact accessible from all points. 'rhe north-
ern &vision will contain the larger super
ficies.
GUILT.-Guilt, though it may attain tem
poral splendor, can never confer real hap
piness. The evil consequences of our
rimeslong survive their commission, and
like the ghosts of the murdered, for ever
haunt the steps of the malefactor.. The ,
paths of virtue, though seldom those of
worldly greatness, arealways those of plea-.
santness 4nd peace.--Sir Walter Scott.
Too TauE.--The time was when intlui
try was fashionable, and none were asha
med to practice it. Such times have
changed: fashion rules the world, and la
bor has gone out of fashion, with.those
that live without it, and those thaferi'H
and until a reform is had, and industry -
gain become fashionable; we may bid.fare
well to many a comfort we might Wiwi
wise enjoy!'
At a late sitting of the Mass setts
Legislature, the organization of 'a. It
. town
being under consideration, se
were suggested. At length a pro
posed.as the Flame, Ashland,
an overwhelming aye,val instantly Aidopti.
ed. • • -
At a bite annirbary dinner of the, Bal
timore Typographies' Society, some,. 'ry
po gave in the devßitiop.obbi crifi to , l the ,
ladies in the followingtOut , „
The sweetest typal:Ton tbeeettle.p
pyettrestitwee4—thqi bsirestikere... • ,
'The lot . liestiowersitiatt'sr-itild------
Or ever, clung a utest's esikbrikatr''