Newspaper Page Text
ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENT
PEE ARirVM. IB ADTAltCf.
PCBt TS'HD BY
HAPGOOD 6l ADAM 3.
WARREN, TRUMBULL COUNTY, OHIO, WEDNESDAY MAY 30, 18 5 5.
WHOLE NO. 20 17
VOL. 39, NO. 41
51 SBftkiq amilii Sournal,.I)ruofrb ia rrriiam, ifulturf. literature-, v&umitian, Xornl Snidligcnff, anil tjjt &ms of tfy Dai.
[From the Jeffersonian Democrat.]
THE MAY SNOW SHOWER.
BY MISS SARAH A. BEACH.
The husbandman ploira in his field to day.
The farmer has seed in the soil.
Then snow Hake, white snow-Hake, why Ihui dost thou
In this season of hope and of toil I
The plowman looks up to the misty clouds
And sighs for the genial rain.
Then down you descend to enwrap with a shr d.
The fair form of Nature again.
We welcome thee snew -flake. In winter's dread reign
We laogfa mid the feathery shower.
And when the wild winds set thee whirling again
To build the nirh-tarreted tower.
We then can enjoy thee, so stainless and pore.
Can admire thy frail, delicate form
And tread down thy folds, as the merry beUs lure
To pleasures suceedlsg the storm.
But now is the season for bright-laughing May,
In sort Tel-ret Terdure new dressed,
Xmbroidered with blossoms sweet-scented and gay,
Of Nature's rich wardrobe the best,
To lighten the earth wi'h her soft, beaming smiles.
To t'lTimn" her sweet sylran choir.
And dance mid the breeee rutlod leaflets the while.
To anisic that nerer will tire. .
Or should a dark sadness o'ercloud h-r clear sky.
Then the warm gushing tear-drop should fall.
To be turned to bright gems 'Death her soft beaming
A circlet for hearens high wall,
'Till bone reigns supreme, and the dark clouds recede.
And smiles chase the tear-drop away.
And Nature refreshed hastes in frolicsome speed
Her fresh blooming charms to display.
Then snow-flake, bright snow-flake, baste onward, ner
Till thou reachest the mocntain's white crest,
Or hie thee afar to the iceberg's proud top
Hid grandeur terrific to rest,
Or mingle thy form with the tempest's wild roar.
Where the storm-king reigns ceaseless and stern.
Tex a with thy cold frigid presence no more
Till winter inrites thy return.
[From the Home Journal.]
MEN AND MANNERS.
Who shall judg a man from manners t
Who shall know him by his dress f
Paupers may be fit for princes.
Princes fit for something less.
Crumpled s lirt and dirty jacket
May bedothe the golden ore
Of the deepest thoughts and feelings
Satin vests could do no more.
There are springs of crystal nectar
Etct welling out of stone ;
There are purple buds and golden.
Hidden, crushed, and OTergrown;
God, who counts by souls, not dresses,
IiOTes and prospere yor an 4 me.
While he values throne the highest
But as pebbles is the sea
Hen, upraised above his fellows.
Oft forgets his fellows then ;
Masters rulers lords, remember
... That your nraJt mulls mu 1
Men by labor, men by feeling.
Men by thought and men by fame,
Claiming equal rights to sunshine
In a man's ennobling name.
There are foam-embroidered oceans.
There are liale weed-clad rills.
There are feeble Inch-high saplings.
There are cedars on the hills ;
God, who counts by souls, not stations.
Loves and prospers yon and me ;
For to Him all vain distinctions
Are as pebbles in the sea.
Toiling hands alone are builders
Of a nation's wealth and fame ;
Titled laziness is pensioned, '
Fed and fattened on the same.
By the sweat of other's foreheads.
Living only to rejoice.
While the poor man's outraged freedom
Vainly lifteth up its voice.
Truth and justice are eternal.
Born with loveliness and ligbt ;
Secret wrong shall never prosper -
While there is a sunny right ,
God. whose world-heard voice is singing
Boundless love to you and me.
Sinks oppression with its titles.
As the pebbles in the sea.
MEN AND MANNERS. Choice Miscellany.
[From the Home Journal.]
"Is it then true, Leon and may I be
allowed to offer you my congratulations
that yom are to be married ?"
Most assuredly ; you see this trunk
and this valise ? In one hour the dili
gence stops for me. I shall arrive to
morrow evening at Montargis, and the.
day after to-morrow present myself at
the Louse of my future wife, who lives
in a village a little farther on."
" And your intended, is she pretty ?"
' Charming ! I have never seen her;
bnt my uncle Lombard who has done
me the favor to arrange this match
gave me an enchanting description of
the young lady. Eighteen years old,
pretty, a hundred thousand francs dow
ry, and double the sum in expectation.
Yon shall see her, Jules, for you are of
ihe limited number of my friends for
whom I will keep open house."
"Thanks but the time of your de
parture approaches ; adieu a pieasant
journey and good luck !T
Leon Duraud was a very gentlemanly
young man, of fine personal appearance,
and in mind above m diocrity. Modest,
and offering little chance for criticism,
be was never out of place, and passed
unnoticed in the world. Nevertheless,
bis character was not without a certain
originality. Left to himself since the
age of twenty-one, master of his actions
and his fortune, Leon had never shown
a bent for celibacy he- had neither the
inclinations nor the ardor which give
zeal to the life of a bachelor ; for him
independence possessed no charm, noisy
pleasures he shunned, and gallant in
trigues caused him fear. He only com
prehended love as a sweet and perpetu
al tenderness.. Being of a pliant and
gentle disposition, receivingadvice cheer-
fully, and loving lobe governed by others,
he very naturally found himself equipped
matrimony, and vet, no one per- j
ceived all these good qu .lilies of a hus-
which this honest youth possessed, j
The -ood husband was lost sight of on- i
der the envelop of the bachelor, and !
. . .... i . !
-"--- n r i
tractions, his six thousand livres income,
and his great desire of marrying, was
still single at twenty-eight.
As rash as he was diffident, Leon ad
dressed himself at first to a JOUDg wid
ow, whose coquetries he repaid by a
very frank and formal pioposition of
marriage ! The widow, who was not
expecting this, was much surprised to
have been taken in earnest : but t he ap
preciated widowhood too well to be will
ing to renounce that happy state ! She,
therefore, thanked her respectful adorer,
and grave him the mitten.
Leon was disconcerted by this event,
and from that time all his advances to
wards the fair sex weie made with sus
picion and a woeful want of skill. When
he hail been stranded three times, his
defeats became a subject of remark, and
the families with whom he sought alli
ance were distrustful of him. "He had
been refused," said one, by Madame
H , and the Misses L and
W . It must be that this young
man, under good appearances, conceals
gome great defects." Indeed, his dis
comfitures afforded gossip for the whole
community, and gave rise to strange'and
Two or three years thus elapsed, and
Leon, overwhelmed by so many de
feats, finally sank into piofound dis
couragement. Fortunately, his uncle
Lombard came to the rescue.
Monseiur Lombard had been travel
ling agent in his youth ; and having be
come rich, and a partner in an opulent
commercial house, he had reserved that
branch of' the business which requires
travelling to himself, in order that he
might indulge in his early and cherish
ed habits. For thirty years he had
travelled over France, and had required
the reputation of ha ving fait de passions,
in every department. For the rest, he
wns a sufficiently handsome man to jus
tify this gallant cosmopolitism. A great
advocate of celibacy, which he indulged
in as an amateur, he had, still, never
sought to combat the inclinations of
Leon. Frankly liberal, it was a principle-
with Monsieur Lombard never to op
pose the taste of any one.
At the moment of starting upon a
long journey, he had said to his neph
ew : " Do not despair, my boy. I en
gage to find for you an accomplished
wife in Provence ; I will anange the af
fair, and you shall have nothing but to go
there and be married. You can rely
upon me, for I have a happy faculty of
arranging matters of this sort. In one
month vpu shall hear fiom me."
Monsieur Lombard had kept his word ;
three weeks after his departure he wrote
to his nephew :
"Mr dear friend : I have the pleas
ure to inform you that, according to my
promise, I have founJ you a superb
match. A young person, beautiful as
an angel, with blonde hair, magnificent
blue eyes, and the only daughter of a
widow who possesses fifteen thousand
livres income in good stocks. The dow
ry will be a hundred thousand frar.es.
I hope you will not complain of me.:
Set out as soon as you receive my letter,
and hasten to be married. I cannot as -sist
at the wedding, being obliged to go
without delay to Marseilles, and lo spend
I wo months in Provence. On my re
turn, I shall take true pleasure in find
ing you at housekeeping, and until then,
accept my very sincere wishes for your
happiness. Adieu. Tourdevoted uncle,
"P. S. See the name of your future
wife : "MadembrsetlelTuplirasle Ducniols,
at Madame Dulillois, in Bonij, near
This letter overwhelmed Leon with
joy. He set out, as we have seen,
light hearted, full of hope, and dream
ing of a happy future.
At Fontainebleau the diligence stop
ped, and the driver allowing the passen
gers teniy minutes for dinner, they
sat down at the table. In onother room,
the passengers of a diligence from Ly
ons had just finished their repast, and
were preparing to re-enter their carriage,
when some gensd'armes presented them
selves and demanded their passports,
which they examined with care, for
there had recently occurred a conspira
cy of some sort. After having gone
through with the customary formali ies,
the gens-d'armes, made the circuit of the
jwo tables, and each passenger answer
ing to his name received his passport.
While Leon was on his way to Mon
targis, he was the subject of conversa
tion at Bonij.
Euphrasie Dutillois mer'ted the eulog
ium that Monsieur Lombard had passed
upon her beauty. She was, indeed, a
charming young la Jy, who had no de
fer feci save tbat of being a liale self-willed,
like all spoiled children ; and in this re
band spect she perfectly suited to Leon.
An heiress, with fifteen thousand livres
income, Euphrasie was too rich to find,
T- 1,. M.,K Vrt cttitar
had dared to present himself, except a
cousin, Pamphile Jovin by narop, a dolt
whom she had already refused, but who
persevered like a good fellow, and al
ways returned to the charge.
Monsieur Lombard, in p'assing through
Montargis, had recollected that 'he late
Monsieur Dutiollis, his friend, had left a
widow, and only daughter, and a suffi
ciently large fortune. He went to Bonij,
found Euphrasie to his liking, and made
his proposition, which was acc pted.
Jovin was enraged at the event. He
had counted upon his perseverance, and
upon the small opportunities tbat Mon
targis afforded ; but when he saw Paris
enter in competition, the poor fellow lost
all hope !
The day before Leon was to arrive at
Bonij, Madame Dutollois was conversing
with her daughter upon her future du
ties and rights. Euphrasie, who for an
hour had maintained a thoughtful si
lence, suddenly interrupted her moth
er, and said :
" It seems to me that we have been
too hasty in accepting Monsieur Durand
upon the recommendation of his uncle !"
" Monsieur Lombard," replied Mad
ame Dutillois, "is incapable of deceiv
ing us. Besides, my attorney has made
all necessary inquiries. I do not doubt
the six thousand livres income of Mon
sieur Durand; I am convinced that he is
of a good family, and that his habits are
" Ah ! tbat is sufficient for you," said
Euphrasie "your responsibility of moth
er is taken care of ; yon will be comfort
ably settled with your daughter: but
this is not all that is to be considered for
me ; this gentleman must please me, and
I remarked that Monsieur Lombard,
while he extolled the character of his
nephew, avoided speakidr o his person
The fact was, that Monsieur Lombard
Tiad shottn himself very cautious upon
this point, and that, too, for a very sim
ple reason ; it was that Monsieur Lorn- -bard
esteemed but one kind of beauty
among men. His beau-ideal of a man
was to be five feet ten inches in height,
shoulders well set, complexion clear, and
beard enormous ! Leon was far from
possessing these brilliant facultie s ; so that
Mons'eur Lombard, findin;; him out of
favor with nature, contended himself
saying, "I am sure you will not find
him disagreeable !" This ambiguous
phrase had thrown Euphrasie into a state
of doubt and sad perplexity.
" Ah, well," said Madame Dutillois,
"you are still perfectly free ; there has
been no agreement signed. Yen will
see Monsieur Durand to morrow, and if
he does not suit you, we will dismiss
him. But I'll wager that he will please
"That is if! Ycur confidence is your
strength, and that is why you say so
carelessly, 'We will dismiss him." Do
you believe, Ihen, that it will be so easy
to say to his face, ' You do not please
us ; we -find you disagreable and ugly !'
In fine, dear mother, when you shall be
placed in that situation, and it is neces
sary to bestow such a compliment, I shall
see you so embarrassed, so troubled,
that, in pity, and to get you out of your
dilemma, I will consent to marry him !
Oh ! I have it now ; happily, I have
thought of a way to arrange it ail."
"Ah ! pray, what is it ?"
"This is it : tell Stephen to harness
the horses to the coupe. In three hcurs
we will be at Montargis ; we will get out
at the hotel where the diligence stops.
TTo one 'Wttt know us, and wc will sup at
the table d'hote, with the travelers. I
shall see Monsieur Durand, and if he
does not please me, you will write him
a very polite note, which will make it
unnecessary fo him to come to Bonij,
and will spare us a troublesome explana
tion. What think you of my plan ?"
When Madame Dutillois and her
daughter ai rived at Muntargis, and des
cended at the hotel, it was nine o'clock,
and supper was over. Failing, thus, to
sec Leon at the table d'hote, Euphrasie
interrogated the hostess, who replied to
her questions with much zeal.
'Among the travelers from Paris, to
day, you have one Monsieur Durand ?"
" Yes, Mademoiselle, yes ; a young
man who is about to marry in our neigh
borhood, judging from his conversation.
He said that he wished to go to Bonij,
to-morrow, and Thomas is to take him
there in his cabriolet for five francs. It
is not worth but thne, but when one is
goinjr to see his lady-love, he don't mind
a little extra expense ! The ladies arc
acquainted with Monsieur Durand ?
Sh .11 1 tell him you are here ? He has
j not yet retired, for there is a light in his
'chamber. Ah! here conies Catharine i
is pasport, which I am obliged to
:are of for the authorities. I must
go and write his name on tlie register
.11 1..a i.iHiao hni'a cunnur 7" I
" Yes," said Euphrasie, "yes ; serve
as soon as possible."
" Immediately, my ladies," replied
the officious little hostess, and went out,
leaving the passport laying upon the ta
Euphrasie hastily took it np, saying :
Perhaps we will not need to see Mon
sieur Durand his portrait is here. She
" 'In the king's name, Pierre Ignace
"Ignace what a horrid name 1"
"You will give him another to your
liking," replied Madame Dutillois.
Euphrasie passed on to the description.
At the first word she turned r ale, her
hand trembled, and 6he said to her moth
er, "Shall I give him other hair, also,
to my liking?"
" Why, what do you mean, child ?"
said her mother.
" 'Hair red" "
"Red!" exclaimed Madame Dutillois.
" Ah, Monsieur Lombard ! Monsieui
"That is not all," continued Euphra
sie, coldly. Listen, mother :
" ' Forehead low evebrows red
eyes gray nose long mouth largi
beard red face marked by small-pox ;
particular sign, wart on the left nostril. "
Madame Dutillois was in consterna
tion. Euphrasie had played hei part
well and bravely, as one who knew that
she would never have difficulty in get-
tinir a husband.
The hostess returned, announcing that
supper was ready, and adding that Mon
sieur Durand had not retired, but had
just called for pens, ink and paper.
"What matters it to us ?" replied Eu-
phraiie, "we do not know this gentle
man ; the one of whom we were inqu'r
ing, just now, is my father ; he is fifty
In the morning, as Leon was about to
start for Bonij, in the cabriolet of Tho
as, he received a note from Madame
Dutillois. It was written in a very po
lite and skillful manner. Unexpected
circumstances were alleged, and excuses
made, that admitted no reply.
Leon was convinced that a fatality
bound him to a state of celibacy. He
resigned himself to his fate, and sorrow
fully retraced his step3 to Paris. At
Fontainebleau. the captain of the gens-
d'armes, on examining his passport, ex
"Zounds! this is devlish lucky for
the gentleman who was arrested yester
diy, three leagues from here 'Ignace
Durand hair red marked by small
pox wart it is he, and no mistake ; "
and he continued, taking out another
paper : 'Leon Durand hair black nose
ordinary face oval
"It is like hold, sir ; we have made
a mistake ! Yesterday, theie were two
Durands one coming from Paris the
other going there ; your passports were
changed in returning them to you.
This mistake has been followed by an
noying consequences to your namesake,
who has been arrested and taken to jail
in our town. But all is now explained,
and I will ro at once to the kind's coun
sellor.' You can congratulate yourself.
Monsieur Durand, that this accident has
caused you no disagreeable results."
"I t is, indeed, very fortunate," said
After his defeat at Montargis, Leon
became a philosopher. Seeing that it
was impossible for him to get married,
be reconciled himself to an old bachelor's
Monsieur Lombard died suddenly, at
Marseilles, leaving to his newpew, a for
tune of five hundred thousands francs,
which enabled Leon to abandon himself
to all t! c luxuries of a wealthy bachelor.
From that lime, Leon did violence to
his better nature. He courted only plea
ure, and regarded marriage under a new
A year had passad since his unfortu
nate journey to Montargis, wheu Leon
encountered at a ball, a very pretty la
dy, who, upon being introduced to him,
remarked that she once came very near
bearing the name of Madame Durand !
"Ah!" said Leon, "perhaps one of my
"Monsieur Iirnace Durand, of Paris;
do you know him ?"
"Yes, certes ! We made each other's
acquaintance in a singular way. In
travelling, last year, our passports were
changed, and he was arrested. Happily
for him, I returned from Montargis the
next day, and"
" From Montargis ? And your pass
ports had been changed ?"
"Yes, Madame, he had mine and I
had his ; a mistake of the gens-d'armes.
And as wc do not resemble each oili
"Oh ! good heavens! what do you
say was it yor"
" Py, Madame, deign to
PIHm V r. -n t t
"I am Euphrasie Dutillois, sir. I went
meet you, with my mother. At the
hotel at Montargis, I saw your passport,
"And the description frightened you !
with good reason, too. And I congrat-
ulated myself upon having escaped vex
ation from that mistake ! But, Made
moiselle, will it bo permitted me, now,
"Xow, sir, T am married ! My name
is Madame Jovin ; my husband is there.
at that card-table, in front of us."
She pointed out to Leon a gross-look-
in" fellow, with the air of a simpleton,
whose face was expanding behind the ace
of trumps !
"Unlucky passport 1 muttered .Lecn.
"TJnlu4y passport !" echoed, 6oftly,
BY AND BY.
There is music enough in these woids
for the burden of a song. There is a
hope wrapped up in them, atf! an artic
ulate beat of the human heart.
By and by ! We heard it as long ago
as we can remember, when we made
brief and perilous journeys from chair to
table, and from table to chair again.
We heard it the other day when two
parted who had been 'loving in their
lives,' one to California, the other to our
Everybody says it some time or other.
The boy who whispers it to himself,
when he dream-tof exchanging the stub
bed little shoes for boots like a man.
The man murmurs it, when in life's
middle watch he sees his plans half
finished, and his hopes yet in bud, wa
ving in a cold late fpring.
The old man says it when he thinks
of putting off the mortal for the immor
tal, to day for to morrow.
The weary watcher for the morning
whilcs'away the dark hours with 'by and
by; by and by.'
Son:eiimesit sounds like a song ; some
times there is a sigh or a sob in it
What wouldn't the world give to find it
in the almanac, set down somewhere, no
matter if in the dead of December, to
know that it would surely come. But
fairy-like as it is, flitting as a star-beam
over the dewy shadows of the year, no
body can square it ; and when we look
back upon the many times these words
have beguiled u. the memory of that
silver by-and-by is like the sunrise of
Ossian, 'pleasant but mournful to the
BY AND BY. ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN.
We endorae the following from Mac
lin's advice to his son ; and put it again
in circulation as too good to be lost.
I have often told you, he Bays, that
every man must be the maker or mar
rer of his fortune. I repeat the doc
trine. He who depends upon his indus
try and integrity, depends upon patrons
of the most exalted kind ; these are the
creatures of fame, the founder of fami
lies, and can never disappoint or desert
you. They control all human dealings
and even vicissitudes or any unfortunate
tendency to contrary nature. You have
genius, you have industry at times, but
you want perseverance : without it you
cati do nothing. I bid you bear this
motto in mind Persevere."
A Babt Staked Against a Dollar.
We are informed on good authority,
says the Baltimore Re, ttblican, that tha
following circumstance really transpired
on Satuiday night, in a low street in
A card party played foi various stakes
until one of them a woman becoming,
in hir language, "dead broke," offered
to stako her infant against a dollar upon
the issue of the next game. The prop
osition was agreed to by her opponent,
who was a childless mother, and being
favored by fortune, or misfortune, the
conclusion of the same found her the
winner of the babe, a bright, healthy
male infant. The child, wc learn, was
delivered without a murmur to the win
ner, and wc judge from the heartless
conduct of the unnatural parent, that her
offspring will find with its new custodian
a better home than with the oaa who so
ruthlessly staked anl lost it.
Think fob Yolkself. Respect no
doctriue on account o its age or the
number who believe in it. The precept
of the apostle, " Prove all things, hold
fast that which is good," is now begining
to be understood, respecteil and obeyed.
Ileject no doctrine because it is as yet
new, and its teachers have yet their fame,
to acquTe, or because it has not the in
fluence of numbers to support it. A man
should look back upon his wrongs, false
hoods, and. enors of the past, as he looks
upon the LAlies and mistakes of his own
childhood and youth. These are not to
be revered ot repeated. The past has
ks lesson ; but it teaches us for the most
part, what to avid. H "ate - Cure Journ.
"HIGHLY ACCOMPLISHED WOMEN."
How sick we have grown of these
words. The world hasmorethanenough
of such. It needs educated, earnest,
working women educated to become
companions to father.brother, husband
and son. Earnest in the desire to burst
the fetters with which indolence and fash
ion have bound them, and become some
thing beside the nervous, shrinking, in
efficient beinsrs thev now are : workinr
o j . -
ever with miht in the great cause of
Truth and Justice ; making their lives
beauiiful by deeds of humanity, charity
We would not he understood as utter-
Iv contemning the fashionable accom
plishments of the day. They do not in
the slightest degree interfere with the
highest mental culture ; a high minded
noble-hearted woman is none the less so
for being a fashionable, graceful or beau
tiful one. It is by no means necessary
in cultivating the intellect, woman should
eschew all Ihe gentle and attractive
graces of her sex. On Ihe contrary, we
would impress upon her that it is her du
ty to be as pretty and fascinating as she
can. It has been urged as a great cause
of complaint against those who, by fit
tinr themselves for a life of usefulness
and profit, have " stepped out of their
sphere," they at once lost all pride in ap
pearaoce, and effect to despise the win
ning and endearing graces practiced by
others less highly gifted than themselves.
They express their contempt for the tol
ly of such, by wearing ill-fitting dresses,
badly shaped shoes, frightfully ugly bon
nets, and go about with rough, ungloved
hands. This is a species of self sacrifice
we might appreciate, and think heroic
if they could in any degree benefit the
cause in which they feel interested, by
making frights of themselves ; but we
never can be convinced that a badly
dressed or slatternly women, who hates
music, birds, and little children (how
ever well educated or strong-minded,
could advocate a good cause, with half
so much effect, as if she were neatly at
tired, well mannered, and confessed to a
few feminine 1 kings of this sort.
But we would most earnestly express
our distaste for such as are known gen
erally as " highly accomplised women."
Those who are learned in the science of
music, can lisp French, Italian, and Span
ish prettily, who can draw, paint, nnd
dance to perfection, and do nothing
else nothing to better their own souls,
nothing to make home happy, nothing to
fill a husband's heart, nothing to inspire
children in a noble ambition for a pure
life, nothing to create their respect, es
teem and admiration.
We once heard a distinguished states-
man say : "Jti 1 nave acuievea augm 01
greatness, I owe it all to my sister.
Left motherless at an early age, I fell to
her charge, and nobly she fulfilUd her
promise to be to me a protect adviser
and friend. She fitted herself to be
come my teacher, eargerly entered in
to the course of studies she designed me
to pursue ; hei clear and vigorens mind
peculiarly fitted her for her task of im
parling instruction. She fitted me for
college, decided me in the choice of a
profesion ; and when wearied by cares,
and harrased by doubts of ultimate suc
cess, her words of encouragement and
cheer were ever ready to console and
strengthen me." "What higher office,
what nobler mission, could woman desire,
than thus to awaken to action, and use
fulness, the grandest spirit of the age.
Again in speaking of her he said : "In
spite of the many arduous duties which
devolved upon her apart from the care
of a wilful boy, she was the best dressed
and most truly accomplished woman I
ever knew' High praise this, from one
who had spent j ears of his life at ihe
gayest court and among the most attract
ive women in the world.
Such women are rare, yet they do ex
ist, and when found ' their price is far
above rubies, "such are they who do
" their husbands good and not evil all
the days of their life."
Could women but feel what immense
influence for good or ill they exercise on
those around them, better natu-es might
be aroused ; but whilst they remain im
pressed with the idea that, in looking
pretty, speaking softly, and dressing
tastefully, they fulfill tho entire aim of
their existence, they will ever remain
useless drones in the bee-hive of life.
Woman's A ivccate.
TakIsg a Landlord at his Word:
We havj heard of cool things, but never
anything cooler than the following:
The landlord of a hotel at Whitehall call
ed a boarder to him one day, and said
"Look o' here ! I want you to pay your
hoard-hill, and You mut. I've asked
you for it ortcu enough ; and I tell you
now, that you don't leave my house till
vou Dav it ! "Good !" said his lodger
"just put that in writing ; make a regu-
lar agreement of it ; I'll stay with you
as Ion- as I liv !' nick.
TWO IN HEAVEN.
" You have two children," said I.
" I have four," was the reply. "Two
on earth, two in heaven."
Thus spoke the mother ! Still her's !
only " gone before !" Still remembered,
loved and cherished, by the hearth and
at the board : their places not yet filled;
even though their successors draw life
from the same faithful breast where their
dying heads were billowed!
". Jwo in heaven !"
Safely housed from storm and tempest;
no sickness there ; drooping heads, nor
fading eye, nor weary feet. By tho
green pastures : tended by the "Good
Shepherd, linger the little lambs of the
" Two in heaven !"
Earth is less attractive ! Eternity
nearer ! invisible cords drawing the ma
ternal soul upwards. " Still small"
voices, ever whispering come I to the
" Two in heaven !"
Mother of angels ! Walk softly 1 holy
eyes watch thy footsteps ! cherub formj
bend lo listen ! Keep thy spirit free front
earth's tint ; so shall thou "go to them,"
though they may not return to thee."
[For the Chronicle.]
Editors Chronicle: As this is about
the season for the commencement of our
Summer Schools, and the attention of
the public seems to be directed to that
subject, I would ask the favor of a small
space in your paper, for the purpose of
making a few suggestions on that subject.
It will be admitted by almost all re
flecting minds, that our Common Schools
are not as forward as we might expect,
from the time spent, and money expend
ed in supplying them.
The inquiry then naturally arises ;
what causes can be assigned, why, in an
old, settled, and wealthy country, with
Schools kept from seven, to ten, and
twelve months in the year, so little im
provement should be made? Several
reasons might be given, but, in my opin
ion, the principle cause is, the employ
ment of so many young, inexperienced.
and inefficient teachers.
In estimating the qualifications of teach
ers, I should be guided by entirely dif
ferent rules and regulations, from those
adopted by our present School Examin
ers. Something more is required of those
to whom wo intrust the education of our
children, than merely answering techni
cal or puzzling questions, most of them
of no practical use ; and affording no
tes s of scholarship, or fitness for the
arduous, and responsible duties of an
instructor of youth. In these remarks,
I do not wish to be understood as censu
ring any of our present efficient, and
gentlemanly. School Examiners in this
part of the State, for personally I have
no cause of complaint. The objections
are to the law itself, rather thsn to the
adminis: ration of it ; and some of the
School Examiners, I have reason to
know, agree with me in my objections
Now let us look to the operation of
this law. Notices are published in some
newspaper, generally in the Spring and
Fall, wherein applicants are notified to
assemble at the County Seats, and be
examined. The applicants are under the
necessity of leaving home, often before
daylight, and traveling, frequently thro'
storms, in these variable, and inclement
seasons, ten, fifteen, and twenty miles,
to the place of examination, and arrive
weary, and exhausted. They a e then,
without sufficient time for rest and re
freshment, hurried to the place of exam
ination, sometimes to the number of six
ty, ssjventy, or one hundred, all in one
room, and here commences .a hurried,
and necessarily very imperfect, exami
nation. Questions are selected, of little
or no practical use, and those who are
fortunate enough, " partly through de
sign, and partly through mere accident,"
to answer the questions, are duly licens.
ed to teach a Common School for three,
or six months.
While those, who, from diffidence, or
physical inability, to endure the fatigues
of such examinations, however high they
may stand iu public estimation, however
successfully they may previously have
been in teaching, for a failure to answer
certain questions, are rtjecteJ.
There are probably, on an average,
from one hundred and fifty to two hund
red applicants for examination in each
County in this part of the State.
At the lowest estimate, it costs them
S2.0J each, to go to the County Seat,
and rpend the day, and travel the most
part of two nights. This jouney, per
formed twice ia each year, costs the
teachers of each County from six to eight
hundred dollars a j ear ; agrea'er pro
fessional tux than is paid by Lawyers,
j Clergymen, Physicians, and other pro-
I frssious, put together.
i A rounjj man. wishing to follow the
profession of law, eaters his name wi
some Attorney of record, and after two
years' study, and a very slight examina
tion, is admitted to the bar, and allowed
practice law throughout the State.
Now it is not pretended that a young :.
and inexperienced student, thus admit,
ted, is competent to superinted intricate, .
and important suits ; but it is supposed
that if he is a person of sound m:nd, in
dustrious habits, and good morals, a
laudable ambition to excell, and rise to
eminence in li professiou, will induce "
him to make the necessary improvement,
and he ia admitted for life.
But it appears that a different rule is
followed with resoectto teacWr nnrl :
the presumption seems to be, that in tho
brief space of six months, although act
ively engaged in teaching, they will U
utterly unqualified, and must again ba
subjected to the exposure, and trouble
of another examination.
Now it does appear to me. that with
all the efforts made by school examiners)
to improve, and raise the character of
our Common Schools, the principal cause
of the failure of improvement, has not
yet been discovered.
. What is the present condition of most
of our Common Schools ? Why a trav
eler passing through the County about
the middle of the day, can. generally tell
when he is within from one fourth, to a
half a mile' of a school house, by the
noise and confusion, rattling of chairs,
tables, and benches ; screeching, and .
hallowing of thescholais. On approach
ing the scliool house, he will, most prob
ably, see some rare specimens of Young
America, engaged in pugilistic encount
ers, or pitching, bead foremost, out of
the doors and windows ; often with such
profane, or improper language, and in
such a rude and boisterous manner, as
would not be tolerated in a bar-room ,
grocery, or beer saloon, and in some in
stances, but little better order is enforc
ed d uring the hours of school. Yet such,
schools- aro kept by licensed teachers.
who have answered Ihe quest ons, and
the diiectors aie not allowed to employ
Bat, how are these evils to be reme
died ? In the first place, although I con
sider the law regulating th -"-examination
of teachers, somewhat defective, yet,
such, a practice might be adopted, under
the present law, as would tend greatly to
the improvement of our Common Schools.
The inspectors should select from the ap
plicants, a number of persons, residents of
the County, of sufficient age and experi
ence ; (those who have heretofore been
successfully employed in teaching should
be prererred,) of studious, and industri
ous habits, good morals, and who are
well quallified to govern, as well as to
teach Common Schools; and to all such, -certificates
should be given for two
years, with an express understanding,
that upon their impiovement, and success
in teaching and governing, schools, would
depend, renewal of their certificates ; and
that without such improvement, and evi
dence of fitness for teaching, ceitificates
would be withheld, and theyrecommend
ed to follow some other occupation. If
a sufficient number of such teachers
could not be found, and it should be
n cessary to give certificates to young
and inexperienced applicants, they should
be granted for shorter terms, but on the
same conditions; and whenever any
teachers, whether young or old, possess
the necessary qualifications for success
fully controlling the youth, (often unac
customed to any government at home,)
who compose our Common Schools, and
are able to govern them without corpo
ral punishment; (which no well quali
fied teachers will resort to, ex.-ept in ex
treme cases, ) such teachers, whether
male or female, should be considered as
useful and valuable members of commu
nity, and should be encouraged, and
sustained by the examiners, and by the
public, even if they should chance to
miss a few unimportant questions on their
There are several instances within my
recollection, when teachers, who have
been heretofore successfully employed
in teaching, and who stood high iu the
public estimation, as teachers, are now
rejected, and ther places are supplied by
persons without experience, and entirely
unfit to take upon themselves the re
sponsible duties of instructors of youth.
In conclusion, there are but few per
sous in all respects well qualified, to be
come the instructors of youth, and the
necessary qualifications, are not to be
found exclusively, in the high schools, or
among the students of our Colleges, but
whenever persons are found possessing
il.e necessarv qualifications, whether
thev arc found in the mechanics shop ;
at the plow, or engaged in the domestic
duties of the household ; they should be
The more a man is envied, tiio less ha