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NEW SERIES VOL. 2
...... CUT OP LANCASTER.
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Thursday MorniHS, April 26,1855
'SEASONS OF LOVE."
T MOItO T- HOallS.
The spring-time of love -. -Is
both happy and gay, '.,
For Joy sprinkles blossoms
- And balm In our way;
The sky, earth, and ocean, ,
In beauty reposo,
And ill the bright future "
Is eealear it ro$t.
The summer of love ',.'..
Is the bloom of the heart,. .
When hill, grove, and valley
Tholr Music Imparl;
And the pure glow of heaven"
:, Is seen In fond eyes,
' As lakes show the rainbow
That's bung In the skies.
The autumn of love
Is the season of choor
- Life's mild Indian summer,
The smlluoftheyear; '
- Which comes when the golden,
Ripe harvost Is stored; -.And
yields Us own blessings
, Reposo and rowurd.
'.'The winter of love
Is the beam that we w in,
' While the storm scowls without,
' From the sunshine within.
, Love's relgu Is etornnl,
.The heart Is his throne,
And he has all soasons
Of lift) for bis own.
THE LOST BRACELET.
ii . i BY FRED HUNTER.
v . -
v Between the shire town of Kircudbright
nd Port Patrick, upon tlic extreme south
westerly point of Scotland, there is b bay
makes up inland, above the Mull of Gal
loway, where the northern 'fishermen of
ten find shelter from the rough weather
. that overtakes them in the edge of the Irish
Sea, nod whioh lias served as a capital
harbor for the small craft of that region
many a time, upon the approach of a hur
ricane outside. -.- -.'."
, Anions the families of hardy Scotch
people who resided alonjr the shore there,
many yean ago,' was one by the name of
Gieo-or-McUrcctorhatl been too original
name, but the first syllable bad been drop
ped by the descendants of the more illus
trious of this race, and this family were
known simply as the- gregors. - Jennie
Grogor was the daughter of the fisherman,
and be had two other children, sons, who
were engaged with the father upon - the
small sloop they owned, and whicli was
employed most of the time on the fishing
crounds. -,- - ' i
Jennie was a fair-hatred lassie, who sang
sweetly, and who was always happy, tlio
the Uregors wore poor enough in purse,
. and she was obliged to rise early and work
steadily at the wheel or about the house,
to aid in the family's support. : But, as she
turned the briskly spinning wheel, or bore
the well-filled pail from spring or cow
Louse, she Was always the same merry,
bonnie lass, ever joyous and rejoicing wiih
herself and thoso who surrounded her.
And Jennie came and went, beloved by
all, and idolized by her father, She was,
indeed, a brilliant star in the somewhat
circumscribed horizon '. that encircled her,
and her fond parent often declared that if
fortune dealt with: her according to her
deserts, she Would one day shine in a
brighter sphere than the humble one she
now occupied. . . .
But the fickle dame had thus far proved
.herself (in Jennie's case) a graceless lag-
f art, for as yet no bonnie lad had invited
er to 'gang awa' and be his bride,' tho'
she would gladly have 'danced o'er the
hills' Tight cheerily with the favored one,
had he made bis appearance. And Jennie
Gregor had come to be eighteen years old.
- One afternoon, lata in the season, the
wind suddenly freshenod,-and before night
the little fleet of sloops and schooners
. made for harbor; for the signs were threat-
ening, and the experience of the fisherman
' taught them that a gale was not far off.
The fare was promising, however, and one
or two of the hardiest of the Bkippers ven
' tured to prolong their stay upon the fish
' ing-ground an hour after t the rast had de
partedjshoreward. . . "
Jennie sat at the window of her father's
. little cot, watching for the well known sig
nal that always floated at the truck of the
Swallow,' her father's jaunty sloop; but,
thongh half a score of Vessels were scud
ding merrily towards , the haven where
they would b secure from the tiojencs of
the blow, yet the anxious daughter could
not see the desired craft among them.
Suddenly, tar away to tne southwest, a
black speck was discovered, which soon
loomed up, and was made out a hquare-
rik'sod vessel, much larger than trie shore
people were in the habit of seeing in that
region, and immediately afterwards the
Swallow' hove in swat, with all the sail
spread that she could carry, booming on
over the now angry waves towards the
Mull of Ualloway. , - . '
lue hurricane was coming, and a tear
ful one it was to prove too. The large ves
sel was a brig that had been blown off her
course end now she heared the rough
coast, . where her helmsman was a total
stranger. Tho 'Swallow' lay blithely up
to the wind, and coming down from a quar
ter more favorable, she soon lowered all
sails, save the jib, and before sunset reach
ed the wished-for haven in bafely, where
with the rest she came snugly to anchor.
All eyes were nowtowaid the brig, the
managers of which seemed intent upon
daring off the coast; but 6he became un
manageable at 'last, and an hour after
nightfall, in the midst of the terrific blow
while the fishermen were some of them
dragging their anchors from the increased
violence of the gale the brig suddenly
dashed in amongst them, under bare poles,
while officers, crew, and passengers were
vieing with each other in their shouts of
warning or for ' succor amid their fearful
peril. The anchors were thrown over, but
all eflorts to save the vessel were fruitless.
She stranded upon the rough beach, and
her crew and passengers all perishcd.it
was believed, amidst tho darkness and the
All night the hurricane raged with re
lentless fury, and during the next day the
wind continued to rave and howl, with dis:
mal mournings, as if over the fate of tho
lately lost vessel, pieces of the wreck of
which wore dashed high up over the rocks
at the shore. But no living soul was seen
and i' was clearlv supposed that all on
board had perished with the wreck.
Yet, 'after tho storm comes a calm,' usu
ally. And on the second morning suc
ceeding the gale, the sun rose in all his.
glorious splendor, shining brightly upon
the now calmed waves, and looking cheer
fully upon the dozen or more white sails of
the nnxious ushcirucn, who quickly avail
ed themselves ol the opportunity alloi-Ued
them by this change to pursue their avo
. Jeiinid had been down to the shore to
give her father and brother the customary
temporary adieu and god-speud at parting,
when, upon reiurnnig up the bench to
wards llie cot, her eyes suddenly fell upon a
curious article in the sand, such as she had
never seen before. .
It was a magnificent bracelet of gold,
circled around the edges with glistening
jewels, the real vulue of which Jennie had
no conception of, though thev werh dw
monds of the first water. In the centre of
tho ornament was a larsre emerald, too, of
surpassing beaut', and underneath this
stone appeared the initials, 'C. P.,' graved
on the gold baud. This was, indeed, a
prize to tho poor Scotch lass. And she
hurried away homeward, highly elated with
her good fortune, without thinking how
or when this precious trinket might have
lound its way to that bleaH shore.
"L100U, Uummic, sue cried, jumping
into the cot, whero an old cousin of her
father's, Dunimia Barton, was seated be
fore the peat fire, toasting his withered
limbs, 'look at what 1 found among the
beach-stones. What is it'
. Dummio took it in his hand, turned his
bleared old eves on it, and handing it back
to Jennie, said:
'I dinna ken, Jennie.'
'But isn't it beautiful, Dummie?' insist
ed ihe girl, enthusiastically. 'Seo how
brilliant are these jewels, and how bright
. 'Mebbe it be, Jannio I canna say,' mut
tared the miserable, half blind .Dummie
Barton, who oared nothing about the bnu
ble, and who was only waiting for tho
barley cakes that were scorching by tho
fire, while Jennie was eagerly examining
her newly-found treasure.
'God's pity on the puir folk that cam' in
the brig mther! exclaimed Dummie, a mo
mont aftorwards. 'Dinna ye ken wha
cameo' them, Jannie?' ho continued, re
ferring to the supposed, lost people of tho
- 'Nothing, Dummie, and no signs of any
o' them, either. Now I think of it micht
not this very olasp have belonged to some
one o them, surely? added Jennie, anx
. 'I canna sai, Jannie. . Come the cak's a
burnin'. Jannie seel' and a moment af
ter, the humble breakfast was served, to
which Dummie did ample justice He
was a better judge of Scotch barley -cakes
than of precious stones. -, .... t-
A weok afterwards, the 'Swallow' re
turned once more into port, and Jennie
quickly exhibited her prize to her father.
who saw that it was an elegant affair, and
was plainly valuable. As soon as his
sloop was carefully secured; he again ex
amined the rich and costly bracelet, which
he eoncluded must have belonged to some
unfortunate lady whomicrhtbavebeenapas-
senger.probably, on. board the wrecked
brig; and after a long conference with his
daughterfor Scotchmen are proverbially
slow in their movements he determined
to go over to Dumfries and make inquiries
about it, and perhaps advertise it for the
owner's . benefit, or that of her friends, if
she chanced to .have any. . And on the
third day arter, ths following 'card ap
LANCASTER, OHIO, THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 26, 1855
peared in the Dumfries Courier,'
'roR an Uwnkh. ricked up, on the
beach above Kircudbright, immediately
after the late storm, a valuable gold brace-!.
let. diamond mounted, bearing the initials
r, . m,,
' "PO" the band.; The owner can
have the same by identifying the property,
and making known his pleasure to Mau- j
rice Gregor, at the beach.'
The editor added to this that the brig
Robert Bruce had gone a shore near this
.....i i..k.r ji .i . i. .
been the property of some unfortunate Jady i
J - ...
passenger lost in that ill-luted vessel.
Some six weeks subsequently to the ap
pearance of this advertisement, there ar
rived at the humble residence of Maurice
Gregor, a young man about two and-twen-!
ty years old, who desired to see the fisher- j
man in reference to his 'card.' Maurice
was absent from homo, and Jennie receiv-
d him. He was struck with the sinsru-
ir beauty and modesty of Gregor's fair
daughter, who asked if she could serve
him, in her parent's absence. .
'My name is Plympton, said the stran
ger. 'I heard ot your father s advertise
ment, lately, and I come to claim the
bracelet he has found, as I believe it is tho
property of my sister.' ,
Ho then described the lost ornament ac
curately, and, upon seeing it, pronounced
t to be Ins sister s instantly, ller name
was Caroline Plympton, and she was a
passenger on board the 'Robert Bruoe,' on
the way from Dublin to Carlisle. The ves
sel was lost, but the captain and officers,
with five ol the passengers, had taken to
the long-boat and had been saved, after
three days' and nights' exposure to the el
ements. When the brig had neared the
shore, the master helped the two lady pas
sengers into the boat, and in the midst of
the contusion, as he took Miss Plympton s
arm to hand her over the vessel's side, he
grasped it so suddenly as to break tho
clasp of the bracelet, which fell into the
water. It had plainly been washod ashore
by the incoming waves, and thus Jennie
had become its possessor.
It was highly prized for certain family
associations connected with tho jewels,
and from their intrinsic value also, which
was very considerable the gems being
worth several hundred pounds Merlin?.
While Mr. Plympton was thus conversing
with Jennie, whom ho thought one ol the
sweetest creatures he had ever chanced to
meet, tho fisherman returned, and entered
his cottage to find the stranger alono with
Matters were quickly explained, and the
young Englishman, detailed to Gregor the
object of his mission, tie also gave him
an account of tho loss of the bi ig.nnd then
tendered him a liberal reward for 1, is
course of conduct with tho bracelet. He
tarried at the cottage over night, and even
lingered thero far into Ihe afternoon of the
following day. He visited the beach be
low, in company with Jennie, and talked
to her of scenes thnt she had never heard
of previously. And when he finally left,
he asked the privilege of returning thither
again at an early day. '' He would bring his
sister with him, he said, who would in per
son thank the beautiful Jennie for her dis
covery and many other pretty things he
ventured, which were intended only , tor
the poor fisherman's daughter's private car.
Jennie was in love! Mr. Plympton was
a finc-spoken gentleman, verily, and she
looked forward to tho hour of hisnext visit
th deep Rolieilude. Perhaps he wouldn't
come aam, thoucrh she thought, niter a
week had paspd away; But he did come;
and he brought his sister, and they all got
marvsllously well acquainted, too, in a very
brief space of timo afterwards.
Mr. and Miss Plympton proved to be
tho only surviving children of Henry
Plympton, of Carlisle, a wealthy English
commoner , and the fon possessed a hand
some fortune in his own right. He had
been amazed, at first, at tho rare beauty of
iho innocent Scotch lass he so casually met
at her father's humble abode, and he re
solved to offer her his hand and fortune at
his next visit to the Beach..
.Ho did not hesitate, therefore, to invite
her father to quit tho rude life he was Ihen
pursuing, 'and offered him a comfortablo
and pleasant home at once, if he would ac
cept it, in the vicinity of his own resi
dence near Carlisle. He then formally
asked the hand of his daughter in marriage,
declaring that he had never met so sweet
a creature before in the whole course of
his by no means very limited female ac
(luaiutanno. . ..
Jennie had already consented to his
proposal, provided her father would agree,
and Maurice Gregor saw the advantages
of his proffer too clearly to raise objections
unnecessarily. ' Within a month the nsher
man had been introduced by young Plymp
ton to his proposed new home, and, bav
ing satisfied himself that the pretentions of
the handsome young stranger were in no
wise exaggerated, he gladly accepted him
for his future son-in-law, and Jennie thus
obtained an excellent husband.'
' Dummie Barton wouldn't quit the old
hut npon any consideration whatever; so
he remained there, and died a few months
after, of old ago. The boys continued to
follow 'their avocation the father " gave
them the sloop and his old house, and they
continued to thrive and live happily, as
they had done twenty-five years before.
Jennie 'did ..not make a mistake in the
choice, and ever after her marriagesh.e re
alized that she had indeed found a rniE in
het noble husband. t
'GUMS' BY TDB WAYSIDE.
The stage-horn was ringing in my ear
wa"ng " 'de, it wait-
,eu ior no maD, or woman euner, dui as
!t hurried on throucrl, a dim nass.,. .IW1
a glimpse through a half-open door at a
scene that has impressed itself on my
"Why didn't they hold me?" were
i .... i ,. . j i
. .u -n - . g . '
that tbey thrilled in my ear when the
afnnra linn rwirnu ma tur avuav fivtrn tliot
great city and its sins and sorrows, and I
determined to flint; them as an alarum on
the winds, until statesmen and people,
mother and teacher, should set about forg
ing bands to hold those that follow in the
footsteps of that dreadful sufferer. A half
dozen fine looking men surrounded his bed,
the thrifty growth of hair on their faces,
aud the glitter of jewelry about their per
sons, indicated as plainly as their haggard
features and wary eyes the order to which
they belonged. They were of that myste
rious order of knighthood,, who seem to
have found the alchemist's coveted results.
They live iu first-class hotels, wear first
class clothes, gold abounds with them, and
yet they hold labor, practically at least, in
supreniu contempt. I knew the object of
their care was one of their number, who
the night before, in a fit of delirium tre
mens, had thrown himself from the win
dow in the upper story of the hotel. He
did not toss from side to fcido as men us
ually do when a burning fever rages on
them, for head, spine, limps, had all been
rendeied useless by that fall; but his whole
frame quivered with agony, and from un
derneath the matted, streaming masses of
hair that fell over his' face, already wan
aud wasted with suffering, his eyes glared
out fiercely as a wounded tiger s.
"Why didn't (hey hold me?" he mut
tered, and with his groans ho mingled re
proaches and horrid curses on the care
less watchers that had lot him make that
Why didn't they hold him? Why, they
did not realize the tearfulness of the ter
rois that encompassed him; they have nev
er had delirium tremens not vet. The
fiend thnt brandishes that naked sword over
his defenceless head, was invisible to their
eyes. They did not hear the hiss of the
serpents that coiled aud writhed their sli
my tolas about his shrinking iorm. u no;
they did not see them, and it was such
rare sport, to see that swaggering, bluster
ing bully cower and crouch before hit) im
aginary tormentors! So they mocked and
leered and ineitou una oil lo comma wan
his phantom Iocs, until tho window caught
his eye as a hope tor escape, and so, Willi
a veil and a bound, he made that desperate
loep, and the next moment there was taken
from amid the mire and bluoJ and shiver
ed glass in the street, a shrieking and man
cled wreck of humanity.
Whether that reckless and restless spir
it has cone up to its awltil account ot nu,
spent time, or has yet to beat out Us weary
lite anamst tho prison bars ot a crippled
frame, I know not. Gud be merciful, and
heal, if he lingers, both . soul and body.
Why didn't they hold him? Not these
careless, heartless watchers of tho other
night; the demon of drink was in him then
too strong for mortal control, but long,
loniraro. when ho was a blithe bright
bov. as I remember him, then his nioih
or might have held him in the bonds of
good habits, and trained him as she did
those fragrant vines about her door; and
his virtues iuighl have rendered another
homo as lair as did those clustering br.'.nch
es her own sweet cottage. I remember
that houiebold well. Iho lather was a
man of high standing, filling a respectable
and responsible office. The mother, gay,
indulgent, and afl'ectionale, surrounded by
a band of rosy girls and frolicking boys.
Fashion entored the holy circle first, with
its baneful habits of idk.Tics3.nnd extrava
franco. - With it came the custom of drink-
P . . r r . L.
in"', because ol log or oi nosi, oncause
they were merry, or bocnuse they were
sad. The wind was sown there; long
years they have been reaping tho whirl
A taste for drinking rendered useful oc
cupation disagreeable; gaming at once af
forded excitement, and the promise of liv
ing -without labor. The boys drifted off
into vagrancy, the father was degraded
from his station, and died in penury.
The gills drooped liko cankered flowers,
and God in pity took them. The home
stead has passed into stranger's hands, and
now the poor old mother sits alone in a
comfortless cabin, beside the same stream
which rolled by the home of her early
happiness, and doubtless as it wanders by,
it often whispers of the time when she
might have held them all back by her
counsel and example from their ruin.
Why did they not hold him long: long
aco, when a teacnaoie, irusum uvy, mo
noblest of a group that played in the grand
old forest shade, that sheltered our lowly
scl ool house?
We were euoompassed with noble asso
ciations the Cumberland range lifted its
blue peaks in the distance, and the winds
bore us the anthem of its great cataract.
An old fort was mouldering in ruins be
side us, and the church - and the silent
graveyard were close at hand. -The teach
er often bade us heed how many little chil
dren's graves were there, and told us thril
ling legends of the Indians, . and old pio
neers who slumber so dreamless in. their
rest. s.Whydid he not toll us, that our
fathers, who so bravely defended this fort,
had Dermitted.a'.wort enemy thanlnli.ins
l ' 1 r
to build up magazines filled with far more
destructive elements than ever beset a pio
neer iu his border life?
Why did tbey not hold him? They
could not. - The demon raging in hirawss
one of superhuman strength. But we, as
a people have power to exerone and bind
the fiend which thus pursues and destroys
in our land. .V. Y. Tribune.
Flowkks, Tbees, SnacBBEKr. We are
not about to philosophize at all, but ire
wish to ak the farmer the man who has
a house and a lot with it, the owner of any
spot of solid earth why it is that be does
not more often realize the power which he
lias, to make himselt master of a literal
faradise? Our poets always talk of gren
eaves, and bright fresh flowers, and noble
trees as things belonging of coarse lo a
blussed palace. Our hymns sing of 'Jow
ly plains aud 'trees of life immortal, aud
all our representations of happy places and
scenery include them as a matter ol course.
Why cannot this be . realized? The man
who has a house, a garden, a yard, a farm,
'.an, with little care, have lhete, although
io can lay no claim to wealth. There is
wisdom in cultivating these lovely adorn
ments; and although we promised not lo
philosophize, we cannot help saying that
there is more philosophy and good hard
sense in these notions than more good
men can imagine. There is reason as well
as poetry. And he who has about his
dwelling these children of earth, will have
among them the songsters of the air; anJ
the tragrance and music which comes on
the breath of summer through his open
window will sweeten his intellectual as well
as regale bis senses.
IS'ow if this little artich should bo the
means of planting a hundred trees and
flowers, we should not bo surprised to find
out, in the end that it had cherished, also
i bundled domestic virtues.
Dimensions of Heaves. "And he
measured the city with the reed, twelve
thousand furlongs. The length, and the
breadth, and the bight of it are equal."
Rev. 21: 1G.
Twelve thousand fmlongs, 7,920,000
feel, which being cubed, is 496.793,0C8,-
000,000,000,000 cubic feet. Half of this,
we will reserve for the Throne of God, and
tho Court of Heaven, and half of the bal
ance lor streets, leaving a remainder ot
124,108,272,000,000,000,000 cubic feet.
Divide this by 4C96, the cubical feet in a
room 16 feet square, and 16 feet high.
and tiieie win be 3U,;j-'i,o4j,7ou,uuu,uuu
We will now suppose the world aln avs
did and always will contain 900,000,000
nhabitants and that a generation lasts 33
venrs, making i;,7uu,uuu,uuu every centu
ry, and that the world will stand 100,000
years, making in all 2U,uuu,UW,itJU,l'uo
inhabitants, lhcn suppose there were 100
such woiIJs, equal to this, in number of
inhabitants and duration of years, making
a total of 27,000,000.000,000,000, per
sons. Thou there would be a room 16 feet
long, 16 feel wide, aud 16 feet high for
each person and yet there would be room.
Learning a Trade. If you have no oc
cupation for the bov, be can go in the af
ternoon and be learning a trade aud you
can allow him to have his own earnings,
.i l, i,!, ..,.1 ,l.,.m .,n,lUr ,l,n
hi varents. fur a library ofhis own. musi-
cal instruments, musical instruction, etc
Lot the boy be hardening his muscels andj
learning a trade at the same time. It is
not possible to estimate the value of that
trade to his body and to his manhood.
Does he become a preacher? . Neither the
congregation, nor presbyteries, nor synods,
general assemblies, dictate to his soul what
it shall believe or not believe what it shall
utter or not utter. He can snap his fingers
in their faces, and go on his way rejoic
ing "He has a TaADs!" A lawyer
made such by a machine system and a
sheepskin he can quit with honor and go
to his trade, when he finds nature fid not
t.:... r- r.r.,c;., t.-f i-u.h'
. th honor to he a member." instead
nf dragging out in it a life of dishonor for
tho sake of bread, as so many do!
The Secret of fcciiiK Loved.
William Wirt's letter to his daughter,
on the siyall sweet courtesies of life, con
tains a passage from which a deal of happi
ness might be learned'.: I want to tell you
a secret. , The way to make yourself pleas
ing to others, is to' show that you care for
them. . The whole world is like the miller
at Mansfield, who cared for nobody no,
not he because nobody eared for him.
And the whole world will serve you so, if
yon give them tho same cause, xei an
persons, therefore, Ree that you do care for
them, by showing them what Sterne so
happily calls the small, sweet courtesies in
which there is no parade; whose voice is
too still to lease, and whicli manifest them
selves by tender and affectionate looks, and
little ki"d acts of attention, giving others
. . T.a,ll
the preference in every little enjoyment at.
the table, in the Held, waiKing, suung or
standing. . ; , :
3rWhen Commodore Pekrt wentont! tj0n to t,i,e miod's breadth and depth, the
to Japan, Colonel Colt, of pistol fame, gtore cf information it possesses, and ac
sentoutby him about fourteen hundred , cumulated ideas of its experience, 60 are
dollars worm oi nis improveu ure-rais, . yie intensity and loiuness oi us enjoy-1
to be distributed as, presents to the-Ja-' mar,t.' " -
panesa officials. In return, the Emperor;. . .. t- . ,
sent him several very old fashioned, cluni-1 A fellow stole a wood-saw, and on trial
sy looking, but curiously mounted and told the judge that he only took it in a
finished arquebuses or wall guns, and sev- joke. 'How fardid you carry it? asked
eral swords. ' The Commodore states that the judge., 'Two miles, answered the pris
the Japan blade is equal if not superior oner. 'That is carrying the joke too far,'
lo the To!edo or .the Damascus manufac- i remarked the judge, and the prisonej; was
.,, .i . ... J committed bttbet for examination. -
-.-." , i
There's )ojr lo the reUer,
And Joy on the hlllt,
A rushing of vorre&U,
A laughter of rills,
An echo of glad nest, . .
From manva 4u!l,
For FprUg's i'PK Jf-'rtt ' .
Hath broken the sjiell.
Tiers'! Joy lo tie forest,
A musical din.
For frolicking brsries
Ara stealing 7lth!s;
And birds on their pinions
Their roundelavs sing,
While beauty seems dwelling .
la ererj tiling.
The dew-drop tkat nestle
In eat b fow'retsenp,
Th glad ttiatbice aeetb,
And drinketb them up!
Tbebndi are at gently
; Vnfolding their leaves.
As the fell of those Messing
t'nr spirit receives.
1 be clouds that are Hosting
So lisrhl) and free.
Appear to onr vision
Like tliips on tb sea.
And glitters each rain drop.
Like torn scs -washed jrem,
Ou diw're: expanding
On bad snJon stem.
We bsil thee, sweet April,
Best month In the year,
Thy romliig brings gladness,
Tse lonely to caeert
in holiday vestments
Tbe earth Is now seen.
And rich Is her carpet
Of UeanUruI green.
illtmt utcd lor Cbilslreu.
I once saw a clergyman (ry to teach the
children, that the soul would live afier
they were all dead; they listened, but evi
dently did not understand. He wad too
abstract. Taking bis watch from his pock
et, ne saia:
..i ,.. ...
-James, vnat is ibis i bold in mv
"A watch, sir."
"A little clock," says another.
"Do you see it?"
"How do vou know that it is a watch?"
"Uecause we see it aud hear it tick."
"Very good." -
He then took off the case and held it in
one hand, and the watch in the other.
"Isow, childreu, which is the watch?
you see there are two which look like
watches. Very well. Now I will lay the
case aside put it way down there in my
hat. ow let us see it you can hear the
"Yes, Bir, we hear it," exclaimed sever
al voices. '
"Well, the watch can tick, go, and keep
time, as you see when the case is taken oil',
and put in my hat just as well. So it is
with vou, children. Your body is noth
ing but the case; the body may be taken off
and buried in the ground, and the soul will
live just as well a this watch will go, when
the case is taken off."
The ruGuUhrd Letter.
A lady, being absent on a visit to some
friends, wrote a letter Lome, describing
how she had enjoyed herself, and saying
how much happier she doubtless would
have been, bad her husband aad children
, . i
oecn present vi ii u ner. me letter was
Pos e.d' ceivcd by her husband, ind read
by him to tho children, who were all de
lighted with the good news and kind wish
es it contained. A little bright-eyed, rosy
cheeked boy, in particular, was almost
frautic with joy. But when ho came to
that part of the letter where it spoke about
"remaining yours," etc., the child's coun
tenance changed, the sweet smile of pleas
ure passed away, the bright eye bent down
ward, and disappointment look possession
of h'w features. At length he looked up
sorrowfully in his father's face, and said,
'father, it isn't half a letter; andf if I were
vou. I would send it back again,' and tell
dear mother to fiuUh it." "Why?" asked
e latner. ".because, faia me nine iei-
low' "mother does not say when she U
! coming home again." X. . Observer.
Littu Tuikgs so Trifles. The nerve
of a tooth, not as large as the finest cam
bric needle, will sometimes drive a strong
man to distraction. AuiusHuetoean make
an elephant absolutely mad. The coral
rock, whioh causes a navy to founder, is
the work of an insect. The warrior that
has withstood death in a thousand forms
may be killed by an insect, The deepest
wretchedness ofton results from a perpetu
al continuation of petty trials. The for-
matiun of character often depends
cumsUinccs apparently the most trivial; an
impulse, a casual conversation, a chance
visit, or something equally unimportant,
has changed the whole destiny of life and
has resulted iu virtue or vice in weal or
Misd. It is mind which gives beauty
to the rose, and throws sublimity around
tho mountain or the comet. It is mind
that envelops the cascade with beauty, and
tha heavens with rrrandeur. In propor-
x - - t
: . '-. . it
..''- i :,3
t-1 '.' ,iir)j
ESTABLISHED IN 1826;
roll YOCTG ITJE.T.
How ominously that sentence fallal
How we pause in conversation and ejacu
late 'it's a pity." How his mother bopea
that be will not when be grows older,and
bis sifters persuade themselves . that it II
only a few wild oaii that he is sewing.
And yet old men shake their head and
feel sad and gloomy when they speak of
it; for whoever stopped and did not at tome
time give way to temptation. '
It isdangercus to trifle with pleasure.
Each step that she leads us away from th
path of rectitude, leaves us less desire to
return. Each time that she induces us to
deviate, we must go a little further to ob
tain the same enjoyment. Even with in
creased experience we resolve to walk in
the path of duty, we follow it with more
difficulty if we have once allowed our
selves to wander.
Pleasure stands at a gate ever open, and
she invites us to enter her gardens. She
lells us that we need not fear, for we can
return when we choose. She calls to the
pilgrim on the dusty highway of life, and
way-worn and weary as be is, she invites
him to enter. Sbepoints him to men that
are again npon the road, men who once
whiled away some time iu her dominions,
but bare now resumed their journey. He
does not know the eelf-reproach and the
weakness tbey felt on leaving lief bowers,
nor the increased difficulty with which
they tread the path of daily life. He
wishes, and then turns, and then looks in:
He will enter for . little while. But he hi
soon bewildered in enjoyment. His sens
es revel in the fragrance. He is on en
chanted ground. He is sure that he can
return. And that he will return, after he
has been a little further; yet with every
step he feels less desire to do so. Of what
profit is it lo him now, that the gate suind
open? As he wanders along, ihe air be
comes more exhilerating, and the fruit
more highly flavored. The breezes be
come warmer, the fragrance is more pun
gent, and the flowers more aromatic. His
senses are intoxicated, and his desires bo
come inflamed. The flowers that blos
somed along his morning pgib, the little
modest flowers that opened their meek
eyes, sparkling with dew, and smiled on
him as be eet out on bis journey are for
gotten. The duties that he owes to him
self, to his fellow-men, to his God, all are
forgotten; he goes restlessly forward to
enjoy hotter breezes, more ' stimulating
fruits and more nareotie odors. What m
vails to him now, that the gate remains ev
But already these pleasures have beg-tin
to fail. Some strange influence is benumb
ing his senses. He finds apples with ash
es at the core. Hot winds are blistering
his flesh, but he feels no wound. Excess
of pleasure is becoming pain. He has
reached the marshes where the garden of
Pleasure borders on the valley aud shadow
of death, and he wo'd fain lake refuge in
oblivion. He sits down under the shade of
the Aconite, and binds his throbbing
temples with wreaths of its dull foliage.
The night of despair is fast closing in up
on him. Darkns like a blanket, shuts
out the light of Heaven, and the tremb
ling madness fires his brain. Slimy ser
pents are in attendance upon him. Tbey
glide around noiselesr-ly, end lull him in
drowsy folds. Worms are incessantly
twisting in the soam of his clothing. In
visible fiends are gathering around him
like ravens. They wait 'mpatiently. He
hears the rustling of their skinny pinions
and be feels the air moved a little by them.
Their eyes of fire are shining on him from
their viewless bodief , and the air is thick
with muttering. Out from the darkness
comes the voice of the worm claiming him
as her brother, and the voice of corruption
calling him 'uy son;' ' and with a chill he
curses God and dies. 'At the last it biteth
like a serpent and stingeth like an adder.'
Young man, just commencing life.buoy
ant with hope, dox't drijck. , You are
freighted with a precious cargo. The
hopes of yoar old parents, of your sisters,
of your wife, of your children, are all laid
upon you. In you the aged live over a
gain their younger days; through you on
ly can the weaker ones attain a position in
society, and from the level on which you
place them must your children go into the
great struggle of life. Country Gettfleman.
2Tlndustry is "essentially social. No
man can improve either himself or his
neighbor without neighborly help, and to
better the world is to set the world to
work together. .Every useful invention
has been carried out and perfected by the
co-operations of roauy minds, or bj the
suocessive applications of varied genius to
the same object, age after age. The me
chanic must aid the philosopher, or he
must stand still in his demonstrations, or
he will work, aud work without wisdom.
The astronomer needs the telescope, and
the chemist his material and apparatus.
The sciences hang on the arts, ana the arte
on the sciences. '-'".
X"How little do weappreciate a moth
er's tenderness while living, now neea-
less are we in childhood or ail ner anx
ieties and kindness. Bat When she isdead
and gone when the cares and coldness of
the world come withering to onr hearta
when we learn how hard it is to find true
sympathyhow few love us for ourselvet
how few will befriend us m our misfor
aaegtben it is we think bf -the mother
we have lost, .. ' . " "' ' ' . "" ':"