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: TH E PRE E M AN.
r . rTnBtia advance...,,. ....... .-; f 1.50
t . Jo. , wimii. tn year.. S.OU
; ' Do. - after the expiration of the year 2,50
- Aratluretonotiryusof a desire todiscontinae.isander
i stand aa wishing to contiaaelhe subscription, aud the pa
Mr will basest nacordino-lv. bat all orders to dtscontinae,
whoa arrearages are paid, wifl be faithfully aMsnded to.
' ': IiJv of Newspapers.
I. Sabacribers who do Dot fire express sot ice to the
contrary, are considered aa wishing tecoatinne theirsnr
3. If abribers order thediscontiBoanee ef their pa
Mrs, the publisher may con tinae to esed them natil all
arrearages are paid.
1 If stthncribers neglect or refuse totake theirpapers
from the office to which thy are directed, they are held
. reapoastbletill they settle tbeirbill and order their papers
diaeontiaaed. .. & ;,. , -. - ,
; 4. U subscriber re moe ta other places, without in
forming the publisher, and the paperissent totheforoi
sr direction, thevaro held responsible.
- 5, The courts here decided that refaeinf to take a
aewepuper or periodical from the office, or removing and
leaving tt ancaUed Tor, is prima Tacts evidence Of laten
tioaal fraud." -
How to stop i pfcb. First see that Tea have paid
j for it ap to the tint yoa wish it to stop; notify the posi
x master efyoer desire, and ask him to notify the pabKeher
ader his frank, (.as he is authorized tu do J of Jon wish
to diseontinae. , ,,.,,.'.
Bnshuas v Directors.
., SO.S OP TEMPEBAXCE.
Fort Stevenson Division. No. 432 Sta
ted meeting, every Taesday evening at the Division
Rooraia the old .Northern Exchange.
-5 CADETS OP TEMPEPAJfCE.
. Port Stevenson Section, No, 102 meet
every Thursday evening in the Hall of the Sons of Tfra
peranc. -.; ; ; , ' . . -
; I. O. O..F. :.-,.. . -.
CrOZhan I.Otis', No. TT, rneeia atihe Odd
Fellows .Hall, in Morehouse's baUding, every Saturdsy
-. ROBERTS. HUBBARD & CO, :
.I.''" strrcTOKns of "
Copper, Tin and Sneet-Iroa Ware, ; ;
Stores, Wool, Hides, ShecFpelt9, Rags,
. old Copper, Old Stoves, &e, &c Also,
.""ALL SORTS OF GENUINE YANKEE NOTIONS.
'.. .,- Pease's Iti-iok. Black, Xo. 1.
Fremont, Sandusky Co. Ohio. 32
, 1S19. -
c. n. hc ctjm,ocii,
" ' ' - DEALER IN ' - '
s DRUGS, MEDICINES, PAINTS, DTESTUFFS,
U- BOOKS." STATIONARY, Ac. ' '
iV ' :FR EMONT, OHIO. ,
UAtl'H P. Ul'CKLA9f,
ATTORNEY and Counsellor at law and Solicitor
in Chancery, wilt attend to professional business in
Sanduskv and Adjoining counti"".
' O Orncs Second story of Tyler's Block.'
" JOIIX L. CBEEA'E,
' TTORNET AT LAW and Pronecutine Attorney
1 J for Sandusky county, Ohio, will attend to all pro
fessioaa) huninees entrusted to his care, with promptuees
sod fidelHy. . . . .
' . JET Orrics at the Court Honse. :
. CHESTER EDGERTON,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law,
, - , ' ASD SOLICITOR IH CMAKCERY. .
6 ' Offics At the Vourt House. , '
Fremont. Sandusky Co. O. " "No 1. "
' - - 15. J. BARTLETT, . I
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW
-. '"W H S U O SI, SAKBCsir, CO., o., ' .
WILL, give his undivided attention to professional
bcsiaessMi Sandusky and the adjoining couutiea.
fr- Fremont, Feb; 27,'49. - - "- : . 1 -
physician ' axd surgeon;
RESPECTFULLY tenders his professional services
to the citizens of Fremont, and vicinity.
- OrrteK One dooracsth of McCuIloch'a Drugstore.
v LA Q. R.AWSCN,
; pinrsiciAX and scrgeox,
FREMONT, SANDUSKY CO, O. .
May 26. I&U9. , - " ' U
' ' PORTAGE COUNTY
- Sfataal Fire Insnrance foeipaay.
Jt. I. Z? VCrtlsJi.VO, igent.
FREMONT, 6ANDCSKT CO., OHIO,
' DELL fc SHEETS, "
FREMONT, SANDUSKY COUNTY, OHIO.
OFFICE Second Story of Knapp'a Building.
July 7. 1849. 21
- Pot-Offiee Honrs. . t
V I iHE. regular Post-Office hours, unlil farther notice,
' I i will be as follows: '
' From? to 12 A. M. and from t to 8 P. M. " '
, Suudayafrom 8 to 9 A. M. and from 4 to 5 P. M.
--fr W.M. STARK, P. M.
NEW ARRANGE ME NT.
DUS. SHEETS & BELL,
"TTAVING entered into a partnershipin the Drug Store
11 owned by Dr. Sheets, in Tvler'a Building, where
they now offer a full assortment of
' Drugs, Medicines,Dye Stuflfe, Oils, Paints,
and a creat variety of fancy articles, such as cologne,
hair oil, indelible ink, pen-Knivea, combs, brushes of all
kinds, with a full assortment of . r " .
for every disease thnt iiffl els mankind; which wa offer
at verv low psioes forCush, Beeswax Ginseng", Sassafras
Bars: from the root and Paper Rues. Low Prices, and
Ready Pay in something, -is
onr motto forever. ' SHEETS & BELL.
Fremont, July 14, 1849. 21
EXT DOOR SOrTH OF PEASE'S TVS AXD
- STOVE ESTABLISHMENT.
rHE SUBSCRIBERS have opened New Gro
cr.nr in looser Sandusky, at which will be found
Sugar, brown & white, Coffeee, ' Tea,
Satrrataa, i -i r .- - White Fish, ? Mackerel,
, " HnmbarK Cheese, ' Cod-fish, ' Spice,
. , Pe.iper, . Ginger, , - Notmegs,
" " Nuts, different kinds, Raisons,' " Tobaccos,
chewing and smeKing;, and many ether articles. Also
choice liqaors. Wine and Brandies, of different brands,
aid bv competent judges to be equal to sny heretofore
brought to tha place; also, southern Ohio Whiskey, of a
' eueerior qoalitY, which will be sold as cheap aa Monro
wille cons juica. Alan. Alcohol of the highent proof, sold
.' cheaper than at any other establishment in town. New
eider just received and for sale. Wa invite onr friends
and tha people generally to give a a call, and trv onr.
goods. SHRENK& SHRENK.
Fremont, October 13th, 1849. ' . 30
MY FRIEND, do Ton went pood Goods, snd cheep
Goods, call on PETTIBONE and examine his
' new stock just opened at hi old stand opposite Deal's.
RUBBER OVER-SHOES. A spleurid stock at
ALT, Sol LsaUiar, tc, dfce-, pleuiv and cheap at
- . ., . -t . , rTTtso-s,
From tha Daily Sandnskian. -
Escapo of Qjneen Mary from Ioclsleven.
If CHARLES O.
' Now give sir give way row for
God aud lha Queen. . . Sir Walter Scott.
The balls are alt silent, and gloom is shrouding, .
Both tower and turret in darkneea now.
The silvery moon-beams gleam on the bright waters.
And mirror in silver the mountain's dark brow.
Aud tha voicea that chanted in gladness to cheer me.
And strove my lone bosom with pleasure to nil
Are gone, and no muaia ia waiting to greet me.
Save (lie murinsriag streamlet umi (His :rju toe lull.
The darkness grows deeper, and in the deep silence
Of midnight I Wait for the signal from far
That telle me friends are awaiting to greet me
Thev have sworn not to fail me in peace or in war.
O why do they linger when I am ao lonely, "
And pining to breathe the Tree air or the glen f
I feel like an eagle that's eighiug in prison.
I o soar to its own mountain eyrie again.
Hark! hark, they are coming, I hear them.I hear them
Jov. iov, for the captive from prison they'll free;
And soon far away from Lochleven they'll bear me.
No mors in my kingdom a captive to be.
The chaina that have boaad ma will quicxly ba broken,
And the pride ol the uouglaea no Humbled ere long.
And Murray, the traitor, ahall wail the sad moment,
That caused htm to wish to do Scotland's queen wrong.
Haste, haste thee, O! hasten, for day is dawning.
And tha star of the morning is shining now.
The gray mists of morning are wreathing the hill-tops;
They are climbing majestic the Cheviot's brow. .
And the waves of Lochlvven are dancing in gladness,
As fairy lipped breexes sweep over them still;
And they murinrr their songs to the night winds so lonely
I hat glide along switily e'er valley and mil.
We are free! close the gates of the eastle behind ns,
And throw their huge keys to the depths of the inKe
Push oft fur the shore for your lives speed in silence.
Lest the foes of vonr monarch our bark overt ike.
Hark! the warder is heard on the battlements calling
His minions to arm ere our boats reach the shore-
But 'tis vain to light up their beacon fires wildly.
JTor ocotJand'a queen pines in their prison no more.
Once more on the shore of Lochleven Cm standing.
Surrounded with kinsmen all glittering with steel;
And my own nobis pillrey is standing beside me.
Slill truelo her mistress, thro' woe and through weal.
And now o'er the heather all dew-decked I'm bounding,
On! on, ere the su.ilight shall gleam on our pith;
For toes are behind us the highlands before us, '
To shield us from Murray and Douglast' fierce wrath.
ill t s c e i I a n e o n 0
Ohio Conference of the Methodist Epis
At the recent Conference held at Dayton, the
presiding officer, Bishop Waugh, alluding to the
mortality by cholera in the vicinity, said:
. 'Some of your fathers, whose presence was hail
ed with delight, and whose counsels were so salu
tary at your annual assemblages, are gone. Tne
interest they took in your deliberations, from time
to time, and their deep devotion to every thing vi
tal to the interests of the Church and the world,
you have been permitted to see ; but they have
been called from the scenes of their labors and anx
ieties and are promoted to higher honors than the
Church militant can give. Several ofyouryoung
er brethren have also been called away from your
We may drop a tear of regret over their early
departure from the scene of their toils and we
could have hoped for their longer stay on the walls
of Zion, in zeal ami fidelity to publish the glad ti
dings of peace and salvation to their fellow men ;
but God who sees not as man sees, in the exercise
of a providence too-wise to err and too good to be
unkind, has taken them to the society of the blest
in heaven. One thouglrt is suggestive of consola
tion to us all they died at the post of duty they
fell where they were battling in the field of the
Lord, among the hosts of ImmanueL Cherish for
their bereaved and stricken families a Christian and
The year of 1849 will long be remembered as a
year of great affliction in the great valley of the
west. The angel of Death has swept over its vast
area, and thousands upon thousands have fallen
as his victims. Our sister churches have also suf
fered in common with us; and we humbly trust our
afflictions together will produce a chastened, reli
gious influence upon all our hearts. Of those min
isters who remained at their postsbut few have
fallen, compared with the multitudes in other pro
fessions. There is one aspect which occasions joy
and rejoicing in all our hearts, and that is, that all
our ministerial brethren did stand at their posts in
the hour of deadliest conflict, attending the sick
and the dying, and the obsequies of the dead min
istering consolation to the departing spirit and heal
ing the broken heart These are men of the right
stamp, and duly impressed with a sense of their
high and holy vocation.
'You teach,r said the Emperor Trajan to a fa
mous Rabbi, 'that your God is every where, and
boast that he resides among your nation. I should
like to see him.' .
God's presence is indeed every where, 'the Rab
bi replied, 'but he cannot be seen, for no mortal eye
can behold his splendor.'
The Emperor had the obstinacy of power, and
persisted in his demand. 'Well, answered the Rab
bi, suppose we begin by endeavoring to gaze at one
of his ambassadors?
Trajan assented, and the Rabbi, leading him in
to the open air, for it was the noon of the day, bade
him raise his eyes to the sun, shining down upon
the world in its meridean glory. The Emperor
made the attempt, but relinquished it.
I cannot, he said, 'the light dazzles me.'
- 'If then,' rejoined the triumphant Rabbi, 'thou
art unable to endnre the light of one of his crea
tures, how canst thou expect to behold the un
clouded glory of the Creator V
KO NiEht but hath its Morn.
There are times of deepest sorrow,
When the heart feels lone and sad;
Times when memory's spells of magic
Have in gloom the spirit clad.
Would'st thou have a wand all potent
To illumine life's darkest night?
'Tie the thought that e'er in nature
Darkest hours precede tha night.
When the world, cold, dark, and selfish.
Frowns upon the feeble flame,
L'ghted from the torch of genius.
Worth hs kindled round thy name,
When the fondest hnpes are blighted.
And thv dearest prospects lade.
Think, Oil! lone one, scorned and slighted,
Sunshine aver follows shade.
FREMONT, NOVEMBER 3, 1849.
From the Boston Herald. A
THE HEIR OF X.IXX.
f ST W. . SNELUNO.
There is as beautiful a Scotch ballad by this ti
tie as I ever saw in my life ; but it made a very
stron? impression upon me. As the ballad is not
to be found I will endeavor to tell the story in plain
The Laird of Linn, in Galway, was one of the
richest landed proprietors in Scotland, Besides
the lands and dwellings he had flocks and herds,
and a good store of gold., . Moreover, he was a man
of frugal and parsimonious disposition, so that the
men of Galway avoided his company, and the whole
country side cried shame on him. Nevertheless,
his riches grew and increased to a mighty sum,
and there was no telling what heaps of treasure he
had snugly concealed.
The Laird of Linn did not marry till late in life,
and his wife died within a year after his marriage.
She left him one child,-a son. who was the joy and
plague of his existence. Though naturally of a no
ble and generous temper, he was wild, reckless and
extravagant Seeing and hearing his father ridi
culed every day for his miserly temper and habits,
he resolved at all events not to' be like him, and
spent all he could lay his hands on among low, and
dissolute companions, in drinking and riotous living.
bo true it is that one extreme often produces
the other. It was in vain that his father remonstra
ted with him ; he only grew worse as he grew older.
At last the Laird of Linn lay on his death bed.
Ho had out-lived all his near relations, and he had
no friends, so that he was obliged to leave all his
substance to his son ; and, beside, next to his gold,
he loved his prodigal heir. Previous to his death
he called the heir of Linn to his bed-side, and thus
spoke: , -
"Aly son, when my lips are cold m death and my
tung silent in the grave, I know how it will be with
you. I ou wiu spend all the substance ot your an
cestors, and all the gold x got together,- in disipa
tion and extravagance. Nevertheless, I do not
wish my son to live a beggar. Therefore give heed
t" my only dying command, and if you disregard it
twty a father's dying curse cling to you. You
know the upper chamber of my house in Kipletrin-
gan. It Is now locked up, and I have thrown the
key into the sea. When you have lost both gold
and land, when you have not a friend who will lend
you a bawbee, and when you are actually suffer
ing for a crust to appease your hunger, break the
door open and you will find a certain relief, but if
you open the door before that time, I say again
may a father's curse cling to you."
With these words the old man fell back and ex
pired. The heir of Linn did not grieve long for his pa
rent He soon after threw open his house to all
corners; His forests fell beneath the axe. His
chimneys were always smoking, a hundred men
sat daily at his board, and he bought him horses
and hounds, and lent money without counting it
to his dissolute companions; he feasted, drank and
gambled ; as if -he could not get rid of his substance
in all these ways, he took no care of his affairs, but
gave up the guidance of them to a bailiff or stew
ard, named John of Scales, who was a knave and
a notorious usurer. John cheated his master in
various ways, and put more than half his rents in
to his own pocket
At last what the Heir of Linn's father had fore
seen came to pass. His money was all gone, and
he had no means of keeping up his excesses ex
cept by selling his lands; but no one was rich
enough to buy them except John of the Scales, and
every one knew how he came by his money. The
young Laird was desperately in want of cash to
pay his gaming debts, and, was moreover, heated
with wine, when the unjust steward offered to buy
his estate. It was a hard case, but after much
discussion he agreed upon the bargain.
"Give me your gold, good John of Scales, and
my lands shall be yours forever," said the heir of
Then John counted down the good red gold, and
a hard bargain his master had of it For every
pound that John agreed, the land was worth three.
The "last money went like the first and the Heir
of Linn was a beggar. He first went to the house
that had once been his own but now belonged to
John of Scales, to seek some relief. He looked in
to the window of the great banque'ting hall, but
there was no feasting going on in it The tire was
out and the . dinner table taken away, and all was
desolate and dismal. "Here's sorry cheer," said
the Heir of Linn.
John would not give Tiim a penny, but told him
to go to the friends he had spent so much money
upon foolishly. He did so, but it did no good.
Some pretended not to know him, and no one would
lend him a farthing, or even offer him a dinner, so
he wandered about forlorn and hungry for two
d tys ; for work he could not and to beg was asham
ed. At last in his extreme misery, he bethought
himself of his father's dying words. "1 have not
sold the house in Kippletringan yet" said he, '"for
no one would buy it I will go and break open
the upper chamber. My father said I would find
relief their, and perhaps he meant treasure. If it
should prove so I will be a wiser man than I was,
and not waste it on knaves."
To the house then he went and broke the
chamber door open. He found relief, indeed.
There was nothing in the room except a high steol,
and directly over it a halter dangling from a hook
in the ceiling. He looked up and read these words :
"Ah graceless wretch and wanton fool; You
are ruined forever. This is the only relief for those
who have wasted their patrimony as you have done.
Behold, then put the halter round your neck, and
jnmp from the stool and save your family the dis
grace as a beggar."
"Very excellent counsel," said the Heir of Linn,
"and as I . must either hang or starve, I think I'll
take my father's advice and hang. It is the short
er death of the two."
So he mounted, fastened the halter round his
neck, and kicked the stool from under him. -
But the Heir of Linn was not to die so. The
board into which the hook was driven gave way
with his weight, and he fell on the floor with a show
er of gold coin rattling about his ears. - I will not
say that he felt no pain in the neck the next day,
but at that moment he certainly felt none. Joy
rushed into his heart like a torrent at seeing him
self rescued from death and beggary. The space
between the ceiling and the roof contained an enor
mous treasury. On the uperside of the board from
w hich he thought to suspend himself, was fastened
a letter addressed to him. He hastily tore it open
and read as follows:
V W. F M A
1V1L i JL
' "My dear son, I know your character, and no ex
postulation or advice can wean you from the des
perate course you are pursuing. Nothing but mis
ery sharper than death can work the cure on you.
If therefore, your misfortunes should be so greiv
ous that yoa prefer death to their endurance, you
will not rashly encounter them again. You have
made the trial, take my gold, redeem your land
and become abetter man."- "
The Heir of Linn did not leave the rpoi without
putting up a prayer to Heaven for .the soul of a
parent whose admirable wisdom ha l discovered
the means of raising him from beggary and des
pair to affluence, and of weaning him from the fol
lies and vices which had so disgraced his charac
ter. To evince his gratitude, he resolved to amend
his life from that day forward, and become all a
father's heart could wish.1
But he first thought he would make one more
trial of the false friends 1 on whom he had wasted
his time, his substance and his character. He
therefore kept his newly discovered wealth as a
great secret, until he beard that John of Scales was
to give a great entertainment and that all the lords
and ladies of Galway were to be there.
When the Heir of Linn entered his father's hall
it was crowded with richly dressed gentry, but he
was in beggar s rags. He appealed to the charity
of the company, saying he was starving. To one
he said. "You have dined at my table a thous
and times will you deny me the crumbs that fall
from your own ?" i To another, "I gave you a fair
steed and trappings ;" to a third, "I lent you a thoa--
sand pounds and never asked you to repay me,
and so on to all the rest of the company. But in
stead of remembering his favors, they reviled him
and called him a spendthrift beggar, and all man
ner of vile names. Some said it was a shame that
such a wretched object should be suffered to come
among them; and one to whom more than all the
rest his purse had been open, called on the servant
to thrust mm out ot doors.
But one man took his part- It was master Rich
ard Lackland, a poor younger son of a wealthy gen
tleman. He stood up and said, "I never ate at the
board of the Heir of Linn, I never rode his hors
es or shared his purse, or received favor of him to
the value of a farthing. . But what then ? He was
a' worthy gentleman when he had the means. I
have twelve gold nobles, and that is all I possess
in the world, and there are six of them at the ser
vice of the man whose hand was never shut to the
poor. And, as I am a gentleman, no man shall lay
a finger on him while I wear a sword."
A glad man was the Heir of Linn to find one
man worthy to be his friend. He took the six no
bles and advanced towards John of Scales, who was
standing at the end of the hall attired in gorgeous
"You at least" said the Heir of Linn, "ought to
relieve my nesessities, for you have grown rich up
on my ruin, and I gave you a good bargain of my
Then John of Scales began to revile him, and to
declare he had given him much more for the lands
than they were worth ; for he did not like to be re
minded of his extortion before so goodly a compa
"Nay," said he to the Heir of Linn, "if you will
but return me half of what I paid for your father's
estate, you shall have it back again."
"Perhaps I will find friends who will lend me the
sum," said the Heir of Linn. "Therefore, give me
a promise under your hand and seal, and I will see
what can be done." -
John of Scales knew that few people of the coun
try had so much money, even if it were a common
thing to lend money to a beggar, and he had just
seen what reliance was to be placed on friends in
such a case. He had not the least idea that the
Heir of Linn would ever be the owner of the hun
dredth part of the sum. He therefore called for
pen, ink and paper, and sat down before the compa
ny and wrote the promise, and right scoffingly
gave it to his former master.
Then the Heir of Linn strode to the window and
opened it, and took a bugle from a tattered gaber
dine and blew it till the joists and rafters shook with
the din. Presently a fair troop of servants rode
up, well armed and mounted, leading a mule with
them laden with treasure. They dismouted . and
brought the bags of gold into the hall.
"My father's land is ny own again," cried the
Heir of Linn, joyously ; and before the company had
recovered from their astonishment, he had counted
down to John of Scales just the sum he had agreed
to take. Then turning to his servants, he said :
"Scourge me this viper out of the house of Linn
with dog whips," and it was immediately done.
The company crowded around him to congratu
late him on receiving his patrimony, and excusing
their own neglect and ingratitude. But he said
to them :
"Catiffs, slaves, dogs, begone ! Polute the floor
of my house no longer. If you enter my grounds
again, I will have my servants loose the hounds up
To master Lackland he said : "Come to my arms,
come to my heart my brother! Live in my home
and share with the heir of Linn in all things."
And the Heir of Linn became another man and
an ornament to his country and a blessing to his
Inflamable Gas a Ccriosiy.
There are HHmerous issues of inflamable gas on
the farm of Mr. Michael Faulkner, in Brecksyille,
in this county. About an acre of the bottom lands
of the Chippewa give forth the gas the soil being
exceedingly porous, and filled with cracks, from
which the gas escapes. Place a common tin horn I
over one of these cracks, apply a match to the top,
and a brilliant flame of yellowish appearance breaks
forth, which will burn steadily for weeks.' The
propritor made an excavation some twelve feet
deep at one of the gas opening and flung in burn
ing hay. Quite an explosion followed, the hay
was scattered in the air, and a blaze issued sev
eral feet high. It continued to burn until the
ground caved in and smothered the flames.
The ground from which the gas escapes never
freezes, and nothing will grow upon it although
the soil is rich. The location is 14 miles from
Cleveland, and has attracted many visitors to see
earth burn. The existence of the gas has been
known .there for a dozen years or more, and the
quantity escaping which is large, seems to be
increasing rather than otherwise. Cannot Nature's
gasometer be appropriated by man to some useful
purpose? . Cleveland Herald.
U. V 0
HAVE I PAID THE PRIJfTEB:
When the cold storm howls ronnd the door,
And you, by light of taper.
Sit closely by the evening fire,
Enjoying the last paper
Just think of him whooe work thus helps
To wear away the Winter, '
And put this query o voorself ,
"Have I paid the Pr'interT" '.: -'' -
'From the East and West from North and Sonth
From lands beyond the water, .
. He weekly brings you "lots of news," .. .'
From every nook and quarter. - .
No slave on earth toils more than he, ' "
Throuch Summer's heat and Winter , .-
How can you for a moment, then, I
Negleet to pay the Printer?
Your other bills yoo promptly pay.
Wherever you do go, sir
The butcher for his meat is paid, "
For "sundries is the grocers '
- The tailor and the shoemaker, "
The hatter and the vinter.
All get their pay theu wht skolict
To SETTLK WITH THI PrIKTIS? " .
Splendid description from Bayard Tay
lor's IiCtters of the Isthmus.
. There is nothing in the world comparable to
these forests. No description that I have ever
read conveys an idea of . the splendid overplus of
vegetable lite within the tropics, lhe river, broad,
and with a swift current of the sweetest water I
ever drank, winds between the walls of foilage that
rise from its very surface. All the gorgeous
growths of an eternal summer are so mingled in
one impenetrable mass that the eye is bewildered.
From the rank jungle of canes and gigantic lilies,
and the thicket of strange shrubs that line the wat
er, rise the trunks of the Mungo the ceiba, cocoa,
sycamore, and the superb palm. Plaintains take
root in the banks, hiding the soil with their leaves,
shaken and spit into immense plumes by the wind
and rain. I he zapote, with its truit the size
of a man's head, the ground tree and other vegeta
ble wonders, attract the eye on all sides. Blossoms
of crimson, purple and yellow, of a form and
magnitude unknown in the North, ' are mingled
with the leaves, and nocks of paroquets and bril
liant butterflis circle through the air like blossoms
blown away. Sometimes a spike of scarlet flow
ers is thrust forth like the tongue of a serpent,
from the heartof unfolding leaves, and sometimes
the creepers and parasites drop trails and steamers
of fragrance from boughs that shoot half way a
cross the rivers. Every turn of stream only disclos
es another and more magiticent vista or leaf, bough
and blosom. All outline of it is lost under this de
luge of vegetation. No trace of the soil is to be
seen ; lowland and highland are the same ; a moun
tain is but a higher swell of the mass of verdure.
As on the ocean you have a sense rather than a
perception of beFUty. The sharp clear lines of our
scenery at home are here wanting. W hat shape
the land would be cleared you cannot tell. You
gaze upon the scene' before you with a never-sated
delight till your brain aches with the sensation,
and you close your eyes; overwhelmed with the
thought that the wonders have been from the be
ginning that year after year takes away no leaf
or blossom that is not replaced, but the sublime
mystery of growth and decay is renewed forever.
- L tribune.
The Desert of Sahara.
North of the mountains of the moon in Abyssinia,
lies the great Desert of Sahara, stretching 800
miles in width to its Southern margin, and 1000 in
length between the Atlantic and the Red Sea.
It is a hideous,barren waste prolonged eastward in
to the Atlantic for miles, in the forms of sandbanks,
interrupted to the west only by a few oasis and the
valley of the .Nile.
This desert is alternately schorched by beat and
pinched by cold. The wind blows from the east
nine months in the year, and at the equinoxes it
rushes in a hurricane, driving the sand in clouds
before, pruducing the darkness or night at mid day,
and overwhelming caravans otmen and animals in
common destruction. Then the sand is heaped up
in waves ever varying with the biast ; even the at
mosphere isof sand. The desolation of this dreary
waste, boundless to the eye as the ocean is terrific
and sublime the dry heated air is like a red va
por, the setting sun seems to be a volcanic hre, and
at times the burning wind of the desert is the blast
of death. There are many salt lake6 to the north.
and even the springs are brine ; thick incrustations
of dazzling salt cover the ground, and the particles
carried alolt by whirlwinds.tlash in the sun like dia
monds. Sand is not the only character of the desert;
tracks of gravel and low bare rocks occur at times
not less barren or dreary. On these interminable
sand and rocks, no animal, no insect, breaks the
dread silence, not a tree nor a shrub is to be seen in
this land whithout a shadow. In the glare of noon
the air quivers with the heat reflected from the
red sand, and at night t is chilled in a clear sky
sparkling under a host of ttars. Strangely but
beutifully contrasted with ths'se scorched 6olitudes
is the narrow valley of the Jv.le, threading the de
sert for 1000 miles in emerald green ; with its blue
waters foaming in rapids among wild rocus or quiet
Iy spreading in a calm stream amidst fields of corn
and august monuments of past ages.
Immcasity of tbe Universe
Baron Jach, an eminent astronomer, computes
that there may be a thousand millions of stars in
the heavens. It we suppose each star to be a sun,
and attended by ten planets, (leaving comets out
of the calculation,), we have ten thousand millions
of globes like the earth, within wht are consider
ed the bounds of the known universe. As there are
suns to give light throughout all these systems, we
may inter that there are eyes also to behold it, and
beings whose nature in this one important particu
lar, is analogous to our own. To form an idea of
the infinitely srr.all proportion which our earth bears
to this vast aggregate of systems, let us suppose 6,
000 blades of grass to grow upon a square yard,
from which we find by calculation, that a meadow
one mile long by two-thirds of a mile in breadth,
will contain 10.C0O millions of blades of grass. Let
us then imagine such a meadow stretches out for
a mile before us; and the proportion which a sin
gle blade of grass bears to the whole herbage on its
surface, wilf express the relntiou which our earth
bears to the known universe I
But even this is exclusive, probably, of millions
of suns, 'bosomed' in the unknown depths of space;
and placed forever beyond our ken, or the light of
which may not have naa time m travel nowa to us
since the period of their creation.
Progress of Enmaolty
It is not many years since any enforcement by tha
presses in England of the duties which the titled
and wealthy elasses of society owe to the poor and
ignorant would have been looked upon as almost
treasonable to the spirit of British institutions, and
tending to sow far and wide the seeds of democra
cy and disorder. - In England, and indeed in most
countries of the old world, the masses of society
were subject not only to deprivation of the privile
ges and powers conferred upon rank, but were look
ed upon as almost a different order of beings, be
tween whom and the nobility there was not a sin
gle link of sympathy or of interest A great change
of feeling has since occurred, producing in France
those social fermentations which have ended in
bloodshed and crime, without affecting much meli
oration of the condition of the poor, but making' a
gradual and healthful progress in England, like
seed falling into good ground. - The following ex
tract from that violent tory periodical, Blackwood's
Magazine, is highly significant of the progress of the
cause of humanity in Great Britain, and may be
read with ' advantage on this side of the water:
These are not the times when truth is to be with
held because it is disagreeable. There is a moral
ity connected with wealth, its uses "and abuses, not
enough taught, certainly not enough understood.
The rich man who will not learn that there is a du
ty inseparable from his riches, is no better fitted for
the times that are coming down on us, tnan the
poor man who has not learned that patience is a du
ty peculiarly imposed on him, and that the ruin of
others, and the general panic which his violence
may create, will inevitably add to the hardships ana
privations he has to endure.' If society demands
of the poor man that he endure the privations of
his lot, rather than desperately bring down ruin up
on all, himself included, surely society must also de
mand of the rich man that he make the best use
possible of his wealth, so that his weaker brothers
be not driven to madness and despair. ' It demands
of him that he exert himself manfully for that safe
ty of the whole in which he has so much more evi
dent an intei est For, be it known, prescribe what
ever remedy you will, political, moral or religious,
that it is by securing a certain indispensable amount
of well-being to the multitude of mankind that the
only security can be found for the social fabric, for
life, and property, and civilisation." "If men are al
lowed to sink into a wretchedness that savors of de
spair, it is in vain that you show them the ruins of
the nation, and themselves involved in those ruins.
What interest have they any longer in the preser
vation of your boasted state of civilization ? What
to them how soon it all be in ruin ? " You have lost
all hold on them as reasonable beings. "As well
preach to the winds as to men" thoroughly discon
tented. . Those, therefore, to whom wealth or sta
tion, or intelligence, has given powers of any kind,
must do their utmost to prevent large masses of
mankind from sinking into this condition.'" i If they
will not le8rn this duty from the christian teaching
of their church, they must learn it from the stera
exposition of the economist and the politician. .
The Tatican. !r C-;; c'
The Vatican, which crowns one of the seven IU1
of Rome, is an assemblage or group of .Wildings,
covering a space of 1,200 feet iu length, and 1,000
feet in breadth. It is built upon ; the very spot
which was occupied by the gardens of Nero. Jt
owes its origin to the bishops of Rome, who erect
ed an humble residence on its site, in tbe early
part of the sixth century. Pope Eugenius III, re
built it on a magnificent scale, about the year 1150.
A few years afterwards, Innocent II gave it up H
a lodging to Peter II., King of Arragon. t In 1305,
Clement V., at the instigation of the King of
France, removed the papal see front Rome to
Avignon, when the Vatican remained in a condi
tion of obscurty and neglect for more thon seven
ty years. But soon after the return of the ponti
fical court to Rome, an event which had been so
earnestly prayed for by the poet Petrarch, which
finally took place in 1376, the Vatican was put
into a state of repair, again enlarged, and it was
thenceforward considered as the regular palace
and residence of the popes, whey one after the
other, added fresh buildings to it, and gradually
enriched it with antiquities, statues, pictures and
books, until it became the richest repository in the
world. ' .. " -
Its library was "commenced fourteen hundred
years aga It contains 40,000 manuscripts, among
which are some by Pliny, St. Thomas, St Charles,
Borromeo, and many Hebrew, Syriac,- Arabian and
Armenian Bibles.' The whole of the immense buil
dings, composing the Vatican are filled" with stat
ues, found beneath the ruins of ancient Rome ;
with paintings by the great masters, and with cu
rious medals and antipuesof almost every descrip
tion. When it is known: that there has been ex
humed more than 70,000 statues from the mined
temples and palaces of Rome, the reader can forra
some idea of the riches of the Vatican. -
Fashionable Manners. -
There is a set of people whom 1 cannot bear
the pinks of fashionable propriety whose every
word is precise, and whose every movement is un
exceptionable ; but who, though versed in All the
categories of polite behavior, have not a particle of
soul or of cordiality about them. We allow that
their manners may be abundantly corrrecfc,. There
may be elegance ia every gesture, and gracefulness
in every position, not a smile out of place and not
a step that would not bear the measurement of th
severest scrutiny. ; This is all very fine ; but what
I want is the heart and gayety of social intercourse
the franknes that spreads ease and animation
around it the eye that speaks affability to all that
chases timidity from every bosom, and tells every
man in the company to be oohfident aud happy.
This is what I conceive to be the virtue of the text,
and not the siekeneng formality of those who walk
by rule and would reduce the whole human life to
a wirebound system of misery and constraint
Scoab. It is estimated that the exports of sugar
from Cuba, for 1850, if nothing occurs to injure the
crop between this and the early part of December,
will be equal to 1.600,000 boxes, worth at present
rates, (molasses included) about 130,000,000. The
largest crop ever exported hitherto, was in 1847,
amounting to bear 1,300,000 boxes;, since which
date, the cultivation has been increased, and tbe
present season has been uncommonly good. . . r
(N. O. Bulletin.
The world is seldom what it seems
To man who dimly sees ,
Rsatiti's seem as dreams.
And dreams Realities.
Trie Christian's years, tho stow their flight,
When he is called away. -: .
" Ai Hat the watches of a night, .
. Atd death the dawn of day -.
O Mr. Calhoaa contradicts the report that battle
wtthdrar from tha U. 8. 9ests.