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American Lancaster gazette. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1855-1860, February 15, 1855, Image 1

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FFICK Old Public Building Southoast comer of
Uo Public Square.
TERMS One veer In advance, 3,00; at the enlra
tlenofthe year, "2,SO; Club of tea, 1S,WJ Clousof
twenty-five, S30,M.
One Square, 10llnes(orloss) three Insertion
. Jmnk atlilltinnftl Insertion
iM"t" tMontkt
12 Jlf'.
j One Square
Two "
Three "
X)ne-fourth column
One-thlnl "
'One-half " .
Yearly ndvertlters haro the privilege of renewing
. ."their ndvartlsements.
TrpHuslnoua Cards, not exceeding- one eqnare will
be Inverted, for eulnerlburs, at 85,00 per year; non
.gubsorlbors will be charged S,00.
Thursday iriorniutr. Feb. 15, 1855
Our Forefathers' Home;
Br Ec Vaa.
'Ol the land ofonr tlret, where ourforefnthersdwolt
O! theola Plymouth Kock,wheroour furcfutliorsknell.
Where thojr brcathe'd forth tho prayer, "where they
read from God's page,
Which, If etudlod In yeulh, it an anchor to age
Our hearts,-'mid all changes, wherever we room,
With delight wlllroinoniborourrorofathors'horue.
? The laud of our slret,our forefathert' home,
God bless, 'mid all changes, our forefathers' home.
"'tis our owbIotM home, where our mothers reside,
And ail whom we love and most rulue beside;
'Tin God's chosenlaml, whero his Bible is rcud,
XVhere bit Gospel It'preaMied, and hit table ttspread.
The opprest'd of all nations', If lillhor they roam,
With Joy will remember our forefathers' home.
.'The lund of our sires, our own loved homo,
" God blcts, 'mid all charges, our forefathers' home.
Tts a Protestant land! our fathers unfurl'd
The bnnnerof freedoinjo'er this wostern world;
And Potostant children will ever contend,
Portliefulth which their forefathers' died to defend;
That faith which reposes on Jesus alono,
. The one mediator, their sins to atone.
A Protestant land Itourown native home;
God bless, 'mid all changes, our forefulhers' home
To the God of our fathers we'll sing a new song!
Praise the Lord, O my soul! praise him ell lite day long,
For the word that Ho spake his promise la sure,
And Hi mercy and Vlndness will ever endure
We'll love Him and serve Him, oarth. till we die,
And trust In Christ Jesus, to praise him on high.
' In that happy homo, In that happy home,
Whore there are no changes thut eternal home.
Til 13 OLD.
'.Old!' Can you remember liow yon felt
when that adjective was first coupled with
your name? Perhaps vour milliner, in lit
ling a new hat, chanced to remark, that
was a 'becoming fashion for an oldlady;'
or some coachman, by way of recommend
ing his carriage, miglit have added, it was
remarkably easy for an 'old gentleman to
cot in and out of. ,'
' Old indied! ' How officious and rude
these common people are! Whereupon,
you have consulted your mirror, and been
still more indignant at their stupidity!
But you may have been more gently
helped, along to this conclusion, by the cir
cumstance of paternity. Old Mr. and Mrs
set in opposition with young Mr. and Mrs
lose rrtuuh of their discordance, and be
come familiar household words. The sat
isfaction of hearing yonr eldest darling thus
'distinguished, had softened the bitterness
-of your own unflattering cognomen. Pos
sibly, you Have been moved, magnanimous'
Jy to exclaim, with the sententious Ossian
'Let the name of Morni bo forgotten among
the people, if they will only sayi Behold
i,a fati,UKr n..i
Still, it is hard to have a quietus sudden
ly put upon long cherished hopes and van
ities. ' 'The baby shall not be named after
me,' said a young parent of his first born,
'for it will be old John and young John,
while I am yet in my prime.' 'I wish my
on had not taken it into his head to marry
J0 early,' said a lady in a remarkably fine
state of preservation; 'for now, I suppose,
it must be old Madam, and young Madam.'
The unmarriod whose recollections can
disect a century, are prone to bo ann.iyed
,at the disposition to pry into dates, and aio
sure that no well-bred' person would be
guilty of such absurd curiosity. .
, Yet to cover the tracks of time, and put
. family records out of tho Way, are of little
avail. There will be,.. here and there, a
memory stubbornly tenacious of cronologi
,cal matters, and whoever labors to conceal
his proper date, will usually find some Ar
gus to watch over and reveal it.
m But, after alll what is there so frightful
in this little Saxon word oldt This collo
'c at ion of three innocent letters, why do they
thrill the hearts of so many fair women and
brave men, with terror and aversion?
Is everything that is old deterioated?
What do you think of old wine? We can
not, indeed, say quite as much about that,
in these ' temperance times, as Anacreon
did. But I've always understood, when
-physioians - recommended its tonic or re
storative powers in medicine, it was the
old, and not the new. Ask the epicure to
. partake of new cheese. Saith lie not, 'No:
the old is better.' Docs any one question
the correctness of his taste? What do you
ay of an old friend, that best cordial of
life? Blessings on his smile, and on the
'hearty grasp of his hand. What if he
' doe come, leaning on his staff? There is
ho winter in his heart.' Ho was brought
up in times when friendship wasmore than
- a name.
r. 'The vine produces more grapes when
I it is young,' says Bacon, 'but better grapes
wJnRjriil0.wJ)cajtiajold because, jtajoices
NO. 41
are more perfectly concocted.' Very true,
no doubt. A wise man, was my Lord Ba-
con. We see everything is not worse for
being old.
Is it wort while .to be so muobshocked
atthe Circumstance of becoming old? Is
it a mark of excommunication from our
race? On the contrary, we have a chance
of finding some rerv good company.
So, then, we to whom thrice twenty
years, each with its four full seasons, fair-
ly counted out, pressed together, and run-
ning over, have been given, will no longer
resist the epithet, old. 'Tothis complex-
ion we have come at last.' We will not be
ashamed of it. It is better to be old, than
to oe wickea.
Let us draw nearer together. I hold
that we are not a dospisable body. Simi
larity of position, gives community of in
terest. Have we not something to say,
that others need not hear? We'll say it in
this book.
And first, I would whisper a proposi
tion, that we depend not too much en sym
pathy from the yoUng. Thoso who ear
nestly demand that commodity, having
outlived their early associates, will stand a
chance of being numbered among the re
piners of old, 'sitting in .the market-place,
and calling unto their fellows, we have
piped unto you, and ye have not danced;
we have mourned unto you, and ye have
not lamented.'
Secondly, let us search after bright
things, in the world, and among its peo
ple. 'Every year of my life,' says Cecil,
1 grow more convinced that it is wisest and
best to fix our attention on the beautiful
and the good, and dwell as little as possi
ble on the dark and the base.
t it is isaid that the past-mei idians arc
prone to bo querulous, dissatisfied, and to
multiply complaints, i think I liaVe heard
few of these. Supposing we should list
en to and examine them.
'The world is not what it used to be.' No
It is in a state of palpable progress. It has
thrown of its seven-mile boots, and travels
by steam. We plod after it in our antique,
lumbering stage-coaches, and can scarce
ly keep in sightoftho smoke of itstnginc.
We cannot overtake it, and it will not stay
for us. The world is in a different phase
Of action. It pleads guilty to this ftccusa
tion. What next?
' We do not revive the respect that wasonct
patd to age. J'crhnps wo exppct too much
Is not something due from usY We think
the young neglect us. Do wo not owe
something t the young ourselves? Those
who linger at a banquet after tho others
are gone, should take especial pains to
make themselves agreeable. If we find
less cour'esy than we wish, let us show
n.ore. ' It becomes us to be very' meek and
patient, to make amends for our long enter
tainment at life's board. 'I had a beauti
ful dream,' said a bl ight boy. 'I thought
we children were all in heaven; and so
happy! By and by, grandfather came in
frowning,, and said, as he always does,'
'Can't theses children slop their noise?''
So We nil ran away.'
'People are tired of vs.' It may be so.
The guest who tames late, is sometimes
counfed intrusiveor burdensome. Toward
those who have long retained coveted hon
ors or emoluments, there is a natural im
patience for reversion. 'That old lawyer
has stood first at the bar long enough,
says the younger aspirant. 'That old phy
sieian gets all th practice; We young doc
tors may starve.' 'That old nuthor-has
been the favorite of the public an unrons
onable time;-the rest of us want a fair
chanco.'' Tho monopoly of ' wealth is o
qually hazardous, though expectant hen-
may be. less Irank in their expression ot
impatihee The resignation at the depart
ure of the aged and distinguished, can be
readily understood. Allusiohs to the ma
jority of tho early summoned, may be some
times significant. 'Those whom the gods
love, die young,' said a pagan. In nn ago
when all slow movements are unpopular,
speed in departure may possibly be count
ed among the graces; and in a republic, a
desire for the equalisation of honors, is
neither pecular or reprehensible.
We are not in good heahh.' . Very like
ly. It would be remarkable if we were.
We could not expect to wear the world's
harness so many years, up hill and down
hill, without some chafing. It would be
a wonder if none of our senses were en
feebled. They have served -us for a long
time. Let us be thankful for the period in
which we have seen clearly, heard quick
ly, and moved nimbly. Many mysterious
springs, and intricate chords, and delicate
humors, have been kept in order to this
end. We will praise tho Architect of such
wonderful mcchnnism, that it has so well
served us, and that ho has seen fit so long
to keep the 'pitcher from being broken at
the fountain; or the wheel at the cistern.'
' Our early friends have departed' Ahl
there is sadness in that sound. But on
this tenure we commenced pur earthly
journey. They were to go from us, or we
from .them. We linger in the deserted
hall, and ought not to marvel that its flow
ers droop, and its lamps wano, or are ex
tinguished. Yet our blessed ones, lost for
a timo on earth, are they not to be found
in heaven? Only a little in advance of us,
have they forded the dark river. See we
not their white garments glitter from the
opposing bank? Does not their smile in
spire us-with courage ourselves to launch
away? We go not to a stranger's land.
Is not that glorious clime of our hope en
deared by the thought that so many of
those whom be best loved here, await us
therertbat the hands which we here prcs
sycEJSS'isa ebo
sed so fondly, shall renew the love-ties,
which death for a moment sundered? that
those voices which have never ceased to
linger in our hearts as a treasured melody,
shall be the first to welcome us to the soti-
ety of an 'innumerable company ofurfgels,
and to the spirits of the just made perfect?'
Whoever persists in complaining of this
mortal life, virtual! ndmlia tw h
another. Are we read v for an untried ex-
istence? readv at A mnmpnl's wnrnlnrr In
launch away, and return no more? ready
for its atmosphere and service of love?
If any preparation for this change of
clime is comrjlete. let us mlrlreas nurs. K px
fervenilv to the work, without loss of tim
or energy in murmuring. We might, in
deed, in our loneliness and morbidness,
multiply complaints without end. The
habit would grow with indulgeuce, till every
breath became a claim for sympathy, or an
abjurgation if it were withheld.
But eui bono? have not others infirmities
and troubles, as well as ourselves? Why
add to their load? Would it not be better
to takeapnrt of theirs? 'Bear ye one anoth
er's burdcns.nnd so fulfil the law of Christ.'
It hath been Well said that 'murmuring is
a black garment, and becometh none so ill
as saints.'
Oh, friendsl let us not lose our interest
in life's blessings, because we have so long
enjoyed our share of them. Rather, as an
eloquent writer of our own has said, will
we 'ause and throw open a window in our
hearts, and let in the tone of the bird, and
the breath of the violet. . We will not
permit that bl ight heart-r indow to bo seal
ed, nor the hand, through our own inert
ness, to become paralysed." while genial
nature still spreads her charms around us,
and invites us to rejoice in them, and in
uod who gave them.
X5TThe Springfield, (Mass.) Repulll
can contains, at times, articles which, for
true poetry and noble thought, are unex
celled in the world of daily journalism.
This thought upon the New Yearissoex
quisito that we must be permitted to quo'.e
these paragraphs;
Time, kneeling upon the shores of Eter
nity and murmuring a prayer to the Great
Unknown lias counted another bead upon
his frosty rosary. Standing at his side,
the angel of the bright New Year looks
0 dmly out on the lar flashing- sea, while
lying upon the shore, swathed in the un
pitying heavcus, the Old Year ebbs his
ifu away.
The annual recurrence of this day brings
tears to memory, while it wreaths with
smiles the lips ot rlope. Who among us
Can look back upon the path of the vanish
ed year, and behold no dear friend, who,
"weary with the march of life," has fallen
by the wayside? By the eide of the path
lies a husband, the mound above whose
motionless bieasthas been steeped in tears.
A. wife, whose bosom, for many long years,
pillowed a weary brow, lies cold and stony
there. A child, the- first born, the best,
the only, ho who seemed so like
an angel that your heart misgave you
when you called hira yours, and tho mem
ory of whose sweet prattle and caresses is
locked as your choicest treasure in yuur
heart of hearts, lies by that silent path.
The wealth with which many began the
lastyear'8 journey has taken to itself wings
and left them naked and houseless. All
look back upon some dear hope crushed,
some loved one among the dead; and my
riads of dreams that seemed born in heav
en have been dissipated before they de
scended to the grave.
BEAt'tiCL. Dickens has the following
beautiful thoughts in his "Nicholas Nick
leby." "It is an exquisite and beautiful thingin
our nature, that when the heart is touchodi
and softened by some tranquil
,,.(Tn.(;n0(-, fr.i;nn. 1. vV,..m; .f '!
V 1 UUl'VblVIIMVV 1V.VI"! f r.W IUVMJVI J V' ,
: l A rii
irresistiblv. It would afmost seem as
i. I...... .t i
inougu our ueuer viiougnis anu sympa-
thies were charms, iiv virtue of which the
soul is enabled to hold some vague ahd
mysterious intercourse with the spirit of,
those whom we dearly loved in lite. Alas!
how .long and how often may those pa
tient angels hover above us watching for
the spell which is so seldom uttered, and
so soon forgotten." . -i
Uniikaltu? Plastering. A communi
cation in the Journal of Commerce asserts
that tho hair used in plaster for new hbtises
is, very often so dirty as to emit unpleas
ant effluvia, which are. quite sickening and
calculated tokeop a room unhealthy for
years afterwards. The writer 6ays: -
. "Hair used for mixing in mortar should
be thoroughly washed re-washed, and
dried, and thus deprived of the putrid mat
ter that often adheres to it. Tho lime in
mortar is not sufficient to cleanse the hair.
It will generate an unpleasant sickly efflu
via whenever the room is heated, until
nitrate of lime, orso mnch of it as is mixed
with tho animal matter is incorporated in
the mortar."
" X2TLet every man look Well to his hab
its. A reputation which it has taken him
years to acquire, may be lost in a day or
an hour. A man should keep himself not
only honest and correct in his character,
but should beware of his deportment, that
no taint of suspicion may be likely to be
thrown upon it.
. X3TA spare and simple die) contributes
to the prolongation of hf. -
d.sxc ixl S3 aDsir miixi'SD-gokge Washington.
Tub Lord's Pbateb. What shall one
feel in the presence of this bleied pray
er? It is the Lord's prayer. It has been
the prayer of his universal Church! It
was this that our mother taughtus. It was
the sacred sentences of this prayer that
first opened our infant lips with the lan
guage of devotion. It is dear to our mem
ory; it is full of the mists and budding de
sires of childhood; it is perfumed with pa
rent's love; it is full of suggestions of home,
brother, and sister, and mother. ., It was
the evening prayer. When the sun had
gone down, when shadows stretched
them forth more . widely, when the eve
ning star hung silent over the horizon,
when evening insects were full of chirpings
ic the belated bat flung himself noiselessly
about for his food; then, in the hush of the
day, bended before a mother's knees, with
little hands innocently put together,: held
in hers, with stammering repetition, we
echo with pur child's voice, the soft low
voice of mother, as she uttered with Jove'
and awe this divine prayer.
it is, therefore, as sacred as use, as love
as memory, as devotion, as the hope of
heaven, and the love of goodness can make
it. Ao using will wear it away; it is like
the atmosphere. Stones crumble under
continual footsteps, the hardest wood will
wear under the softest bands that do ply
it for years, but one may rush through the
air forever, and it cannot be chafed or
worn. It has recovering force.like fabled
spiritual natures, when wounded, with in
stant power to heal itself. And like that
ethereal sunlit atmosphere in this diviae
prayer, that remains fresh in everlasting
youth; no uttering can make it trite, no
frequency can wear it out, no repetitions
cantire the soul of it. It begins life with us,
it goes through life dearer atevery period,
and when nge begins to shiver & tremble a
mongourdecayed boughs, this is that'which
like the damsel sought out for David, lies
in our bosom, and lends us warmth, and
breathes another life into our decaying
Dress, The honorable Miss Murray
sister of a Scotch Duke, a maid of honor
to Queen Victoria, has been staving for
some days past in New Yoik. Mis Mur
ray is a lady of fine person, robust health,
and uncommon enprgy of character aged
about 25 vears. She has visited several of
the public ihstituilons, and been entertain
ed by many citizens at their own houses,
where her frank and cordial manners, her
singular intelligence and great kindnessof
heart have secured her mnny friends. Miss
Murray, we understand, has keenly enjoy
ed her extended tour in this country. She
i poears, however, to have been struck
wiih amazement at the expenditure, the
helplessness, and the ill health of that un
fort unnte class of being?, tho fashionable
women of our cities. Miss Murray, 1 keall
the fashionable Women of Europe.dresses fo
plainly that it probably costs her less todrcss
tor a whole year, man mnny a m. ions inoy
expends for hnlt-a dozcn namikereniois.
It is a settled thing in Europe. that extrav
acrnncc in dress is the very extreme of vulgar
ily, and is heVer indulged in except by those
whose only claim todisiiuction is the length
of purse
Fried Apples. A dish of fried apples
is quickly prepared for the table, which is
often a consideration of no small impor
tance. Wash them cut them in too, take
oMt the stem, core andcalyx.and unpccled
put thetn into ft tin psn with butter, or the
gravy ot baked pork, witn some water
proportion to the quantity to be fried
eover them with a lid, set them on the
stove, stir them occasionally until they be
como soft and bo careful hot to burn
them. Romanites, which are often almost
worthless, baked or raw, "disappear with
good gusto when fried." We may trutn
fully prononnco despicable Ponies, when
" 9 ooaLDl" "'vlL
I xRiiman sweets, nnu.uiiS r. ......
1 9 ,
l imifriu name, wnen mcuf iwim
t a t e.;A Ae w a l.ii-
Sour apples do not fry well-they
frv to nieces too much Country uremic
' '
: man' '
Coitif CAKts. A lady, in the OMoctit
tivator, recommends the following receipt
for Corn Uakej fttid joreakmsi cake:
To one Dint of sour butter-milk add
three crS. one teaspoonfull of saleratus
ene-quarter poiind of butter, thicken with
fine meal, do not nine it loo sun, sprcau
on a buttered pan and bake quickly.
The following makes a very nice break
fast cake: To one pint of butter milk
or sour cream add two tablespoonfuls of
molasses, salt arid spico or nutmeg to suit
the tasto, and thicken with the Indian
meal; mix over night and bako quickly for
breakfast. :
To PnESEnvK Ikon and Steel Knives
From Rust. Procure some melted virgin
wax the purer the better and rub It
thoroughly over the blades of the knives.
After it has dried, Warm the knives and
having carefully removed the wax from
tho surface, rub them briskly with a dry
cloth, until the original polish is fully re
stored. This Will fill all the pores with
the unctuous and minuto particles of wax,
which will adhere firmly, and prevent the
intrusion of water or moisture, which is
tho cause of rust. They will retain their
brilliancy for weeks, if Used
An ' Emetic. Many lives might be
saved by a knowledge of this receipt: A
large teaspoonlul of mustard mixed in a
tumbler of warm waterand swallowed as
soon as possible sets as an instant emetic,
sufficient to remove all that is lodged in the
i. . ". .
jBaMBSwgBBi' J .I'.iuiiTT "; i i iTilHg
Life Journey EafeJ.
"So when a ship well fretgkud with ths store
The sao stature, oa India1 spicy shores,
Hat d roped heraacbor td her eaavat furl4
I some fair have f oar westers world;
Twer vein Inquiry to what port she went,
The gale Inform as, Uden with the sceoU"
How does love glow toward their fellow
travellers, their future fellow-citizens in the
Better Land! Is it the beavenly-m'indtd
whoslight or slander those with wbom they
are to dwell under the same roof, with
whom they are o serve and sing forever? !
Mow do the heaveniy-raindea welcome
death, desiring to depart? W tiat foretastes
do they enjoy .as they approach the confines
of Canaan? Land-birds, of beautilul plu
mago, greeted Columbus days before his
eyes caught a gimpse oi u:e iew worm.
A more southern voyager found himself in
the fresh waters of the Amazon, before Uia
covering the continent from whence they
came. So, at the close of life's voyage, do
birds of Paradise come hitherward.carwr
ngon bright wings, and the river of life
sends its refreshing current far out into the
rinysea of this world. "Hie celestial
ity," said Paysoni'Ms now full in my view
Its glories beam upon me it sounds strike
uon my ears, and its spirit is Dreauiea
nto my heart.
In observing tho transit of Venus across
the sun's dise, Rittenl.ouse was so filled
with rapture that he fainted. And as the
dories of the unper world, the unutterable
pienaoroi tnesunoi jA,ignieousness,auraci
. . . A' . . . .
the eye of the beholder, is it strange that
he should be raptand overwhelmed! "I lie
ingdom of Heaven is within you. oucn
holy anticipations turn earth into Paradise.
Tue Mother.
It has been truly said: "The first being
that rushes to the recollection of a soldier
or a sailor, in his heart's difficulty, is his
mother. She chnis to his memory and
affection, in the midst of all the forgetful
ness and hardihood induced by a roving
ife. The last message is for her his last
whisper breathes her name. The mother
as she instills the lessons of piety and filial
obligation in the heart of her infant son,
should always feel that her labor is not in
vain, cue may crop into tne grave, uui
she has left behind her an influence that
. nt J . 1 . 1. .. 1
will work for her. The bow is broken but
the arrow is sped, and will do its office'
There It In If J no blessing like affection;
It soothes, It hallows, elevates, subdues,
And bringethdown to earth Its native heaven;
It sits betide the cradle patient hours,
Whose sole contentment it to watch and love;
It bendeth o'er the death-bed, and eonceala,
Its own despair with words of faith and hope.
Lifd hath nought else that may supply Its place;
Void Is ambition, cold la vanity.
And woalth an empty glitter without love.'
MUs Laxoox.
A Dyiso Father's Anvicx to his Son.
Sir William Penn, who was an Admiral
in the British Navy during the Protector
ate Df Cromwell, and in the reignof Charles
II., gave the following as his dyingndvice
to his son, William Pcnn, the celebrated
founder of Pennsylvania:
"Three things (said the dying Admiral)
I recommend to you:
1. Let nothing tempt you to wrong
conscience; it you keep peace ai nome
it will be a feast to you on a day
.l in An 1v it
justly and time it seasonably; for that gives
-v.8 ,
security and uispatcn.
3. Be not troubled at disappointments.
If they maybe recovered, do it; if not,
trouble is in vain.
These rules will carry you with firm
mess and comfort through the inconstant
The Christian's Work. Dr.
ming beautifully remarks:
"The builder builds for a century we for
eternity; The painterpaintsfor ageneration
we for ever. The poet sings for an age
we for ever. The statuary cuta out the
rnnrhln that Boon nerishes let us try to
nut out thtt likeness of Christ to endure for;
oi-.r nnrl vpr.
"A hfifirlrad thoiisand men were em-
nlnvnrl in Errvnt to construct a pvramidal
tab for a dead kins: let us feel' that wo
n. anrran,1 in a fur nnhlnr uriiir in Cun
structiiKr3 temples for the living God. In
mv humble judgment, the poorest par
Uli school in our land with no other orna-
mcnts than the dew-drops of the morning
to gild it. and the sun beams to shine up
on it, is a nobler spectacle than the loftiest
European cathedral with its spires glisten
ing in the setting and rising suns of a thou
sand years." .
ble ticking from the clock of time. "Now"
; i.,.,i.t.,rirti,i isn. "Now" is
the banner of the prudent.
t i ... 1, ; liulo vnrrl nlwnvs in nnr
mind: and whenever anything presents it
selftousin the shape of work, whether
nut.,nu.;l.,l.irs ahnnld do it with
all our mirrht, remembering that now it, the
only time for us. It is indeed a sorry way
to get through the world byputtingit off.ea lorour Kepuoncm.uneiHu.ee
till to-morrow.saying. "Then I will dolt." choice than even their monarchical and .r-
No! This will never answer. Xe is oars; , lstocratie sisters. The resu t is a lassitude
ife will never be.. ...; of. nind. often as '"""'
j I bodily exercise. The wife who leaves her
It is stated that there is a merchant in i household cares to tho servants, pays tho
Boston who, during fourteen years, has penalty which has beon affixed to idleneyi
always had . his name on the docket of since the foundation of. the , world, and el
some court, either as plaintiff or defend-1 therwilta away from enni, or is diiven to
ant. The. lawyers "tip their beavers" to all gorts of fashionable follies to find efil
this gentleman almost instantly. loyment fefthe minrfc ' ' .'. " 1
Frost the Knickerbocker Gallery.) -
. ar. unnutt,
One the Emperor Cauaus of
With bis swarthy, grave commuaera.
I forget In what campaign,
Long beselged In mod and rala
foot eld frogUtr town of Flander.
Up and dowa las dreary eamp,
In great boots of Spanish leather,
FUrMicg wltk a measured tramp.
These Hidalgoe,dull and damp,
CunedUt Fr,he, ear4 the weather.
Tavu to and fro they went.
Over ayland and throagh bollew.
Glringthelr Impatience vent,
PerchtQ upon IV. Emperor' tent,
In her acat they spied swallow.
Yes, It wa (wallow's neat.
Built of clay and hair of boTset'
Jlaue or tail, or dragon's crest.
Foand on hedgerows, east or west,
Afiersklrmish of the aire.
Then tnoid nlJalgo said,
As he twirled his grey mostachio,
"Burs, thlswallowovr-bed
Tbinksour Emperor tent shed,
Aud oar Emperor bat a mtcho."
Hearing bit Imperial Bam
Coupled with these words of malice,
Half In anger, half In sham,
Waea the great campaigner earner
Slowly from his can vast palace,
'Let no hand the bird molest,
Eaid be solemnly, 'nor hurt her!'
Adding then, by way or Jett:
Golondrlno It my guest
Tis the wife of some deserter.'t
Bwtft tftow tiring speed a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the raaasri
And the toldtert.as they qoafled
Flemish beer, at dinner, laughed
At the Emperor's pleasant humor. '
8o unharmed and unafraid,
There the swsllow aat and brooded,
Till the constant caanoaad
Through the walls abreteb had mad,
And the siege waa thas concluded.
Then the army, ele where bent,
ftrnek the tents a if disbanding;
Only o the Emperor' tent
Fur be ordered, ere be went,
Very enrtly: 'Leave it alandlnkt'
And H stood there all alone-
Losely flapping, torn and tattered.
Till the brood waa fledged and flown,
Bioging o'er those walls of stone,
That the canaoo ahoi aee? i
Midio The Fptnlih for mule.
TGoLosoaiNO, in tpanish meant a swallow ar.dide
ertur. To Youko Men. We extract the follow
ing beautiful paragraph from the Baccal
aureate Address lately delivered before the
Graduating Class of Rutgers College, by
the Hon. Tbeo. Frelinghuystn, and com
mend it to the perusal of the young:
'Resolve to do something useful, hono
rable, dutiful,' and do it heartily. Repel
the thought, that you ran, and therefore
you- miy live above labor, and without
work. Among the most pitiful objects of
society, is the man whose mind has been
trained by education who has learned
how to think, and with all these noble fac
ulties cultivated and prepared for atl hon
orable activity, ignobly sits down to noth
ing with no influence over the public
mind with no interest in the public con
cerns of bis neighborhood to be regard
ed as a drone, without object ot character,
with no effort to put forth to help the
riffht or defeat the wrong. Who can
think with any calmness of such a misera
j ble career? And however it may be with
0r you in active enterprise never permit
pour influence to be lu hostility to the
cause oi iruiu ana virtue, co live, mat
1 .e - J . o 1- - .1.-.
n,Rti0n v,rr vr.ii msvtrul i.
...... ...w . f-"i ;--
lully say that
"if your country stand hot by y Bur skill;
At least your follies have not wrought her fall
Eloquence of Ibe Hands.
TlitS hands are by the very instinct of
humanity rnsed in prayerj chisptd in al
fection," Wrung in despair on the forehead
when the soul is 'perplexed in the ex
treme:' drawn inward to invite, thrust forth
objectionately to- repel; the fingers point
to indicate and are snapped in disdain; the
palm is laid upon the heart in invocation
of subdued feeling and on the brow of
the compassion in benediction. The im
orosive capacity ot the hands was never
. ....
moiestrkinglydisplated than in the orisons
of tho deaf and dumb. Their teacher
stood with closed eyes and addressed the
Deity by those signs made with the fin
gers, which constitute a language for the
- . ctiPrrhlesg
j Around him were grouped more diaii a
- , hundred mutes who followed with rever
ent glances every motion.- It Was a isl
ble, but an inaudible worship.
Despising Household Duties. From
variety of causes, nothing is more common
than to find Ataerican women who have
not the slightest idea of household duties
A writer thus alludes to this subject:
this neglect of household cares, American
, females stand alone. . A German lady, no
matter how high her rank, never forgets
i that domestic labors conduce to the health
of the body and mind alike. An English
- . lady, whether she be only a gentleman
wife or a duko a, does not despise
household, and even though she 1
house-keeper, devotes a portion of her lime
j to this, her happiest sphere. It is reserv-
Ths? PrayiiiK Sailor Boy.
The Cornelia was a good ship, (said one"
of the West India cliaplniua tC the Sea
man's Friend Society.) but a' one time era .
feared site was on ner last voyage. W
were bat few days out of harbor,' whed
a severe storm of five days continuance1 .
overtook us.
-1 must ttH you of a feat performed by
sailor boy at the height of the storm. - The
ship waa rolling fearfully. Some of the
rigging got foul at the mat head, and It
was necessary that tome one should go up
and rectify it. It was a perilous job. I
was standing near the mate, and heard bun
order the boy to do it. He lifted Lisvap
and glanced at the bending mast, the boil
ing, wrathful sea, and at the steady, de
termined countenance of the mate. He
hesitated in silence a moment; then null
ing across the deck he pitched down into
il forecastle. Perhaps he was gone two
minuws when be returned, laid his hand
on the ravVms, and went op with a will '
My eyes followed him till my head was
dizzy, when I turned and remonstrated
tvith the mate for sending the boy aloft.
'He cannot come down alive. Why did
you send him?' -
I did it,' re plied" die mate, Mo save life.
We'te sometimes lost men overboard, bul
never a boy. See how he holds like a
squirrel. He is more careful. He cornea
down safe, 1 hope.'
Again I looked, till tears dimmed my
eves and I was compelled to turn away,
expecting every moment to catch a glimpse
Of bis last fall:
In about fifteen Or twenty minutes he
came down and straightened himself up
with ths conscious pride of having per
formed a manly act, he walked aft with- i
smile on hi countenance. '
In the course of the day I took occasion
to speak to him, and asked him why he
hesitated when ordered alofu
I went, sir,' said th boyj 'to pray.'
; 'Do yon pray?' - r
Yes, sir; I thought that I might not
come down alive, "and I 'went to commit
my soul to' God.' .' ' ' ' .
Where did you learn to pray?
At home; my mother wanted mo to go
to the Sunday school, and mj teacher urg
ed me to pray to God to keep me; and I
do.' . . . . .
What was that yon had in yoar jacketr
My Testament which my teacher gavO"
me. I thought if I should perish, l would
ave the Word of Ood close to my heart.
The Good of Children: ..
What would this world" be really worth
if it were robbed of the hearty laugh, and
merry piattle of .littlts children? - What
home would be worth tne name oi 'nome,
if there were taken from it those little1
vines, which morning and night put . ou
their little arms to climb and kiss the par
ent stem? What hearth would look cheer-'
ful, if around it were not those little Lares
to cheat it of its loneliness and gloom?'
Whatadeeertis, without an oasis a ior
est without a shrub a garden without
floWer--a lute without a string sq Us)
home Without children. Who does no
feel happy ,wben his heart-doors are locked
suspiciously against all the rest of tho
world, in raising its Windows arid, letting
these lit tie ones flock in, and rumage every
secret drawer and cupboard from the base
ment to the attic? Happy is that man
who loves little children; Let him be a
stranger in a strange phi e lot him meek
withtfilces Unknown bt fore let him find no
heart which beats sympathetically with his
own, and yet the sparkling eyes, the curl
locks, the sprightly step, and the happy
laughter of children are the same to him
. . . mi . , , . e '
here, as at nome. inetr ongni laces are
like the stars td him, ever twinkling the
same wherever he goes: their gay voices
are like cheerful murmuring rivulets, or
like the happy songs of birds, always
sounding the same to his ears.. Let. him
be sad let the clouds of sorrow gather
their darkness around his heart let the
snows of adversity chill his better nature-
and yet, let him but feel the influence ot
children, and his soul, like a broken instru
ment, new repaired and newly strung, vi
brates wiin softer ana more melodious
tones. .,...
What Unclx Sam has done is H Iearsi
Uncle Sam was born a nation seventy
Seven years ago since then be has whip
ped his mother and one of his. brothers;
thrashed his Barbary cousin, threatened
Fiance and made her pay up, and s-.leared
decks for battle with Austria. He lias 0t
an example of liberty and popular power,
that has thoroughly frightened the des
pots of the earth and perilled their ancient
thrones,-- Ho has grasped a continent and
is fast covering it with a free, educated
and thriving people. He has built more
ships than any other - nation in the some
time, and his flag is now seen on. every tea
and ocean, and in every harbor and liret.
Ho has built more steamboats, more riN
ways, more telegraph lines, more school
houses, more churches, more cities,- big'
ger babies in that scvertty-seven years,
thaft any other nation in five hundred
years. And has printed more ncwspa
pers, made more speeches, done more brag
ging than any other nation has done In s
thousand years.
The spirit of liberty is not as mnlti'
tudes imagine, a jealousy of our particular'
rights, but a respect for the rights of otlw
er. and an nnwillingntts that any mint
whether high ot low; should bs wTODgod
kJ trampefcd under toot. '' ' '

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