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THE BEDFORD GAZETTE
la F LIDI. I SHED EVEUY FBI PA Y MORKIJW BY B. R. TII:VI:KS, At tbe lollowino term*, to Witi JL.sli per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " it paid within the year. s2.f>o " it not paid within the year. CCF"No subscription taken tor less than sis months. C*?~No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid , unless at the option of the publisher, it has been decided by the United States Courts that the stoppage of a newspaper without the payment ot arrearages, is prima facie evidence ot fraud and is a criminal offence. nyrhe courts have decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription price of newspa pers, if they take them from the post office, wheth er f hey subscribe for them, or not. ovig i n a I jJ oct v n. NATURE'S SIMILITUDES. ttv [? ? ? ?] All nature has its kindred forms, Its stars and worlds relations arc; The ocean's kindred to its storms. The earth is kindred to each stay- Eaeh flow'r that feels the morning's freeze Doth mingle fragrance with the air; The land is kindred to the seas. In shapes both hideous and fair. The hills and vallcvs are allied— Tho' mountains frown on vales lielow— They lie congenial, side hy side, Beneath the skies that o'er tin in glow. The brook is kindred to the spring. The streamlet to the river's How; 'Hie lakes the ocean's dirges sing. O'er each the -hips sail to and fro. The eagle from his lofty llight Stoops back to earth to rest his wing; j And gazing from his craggy height Hears little warblers sweetly sing. The mighty oak, in lofty pride, Stands monarch of the forest trees: And vet, the woodbine by its ,-ide (Tolibs up the trunk to kiss the breeze. j The lion with bis kingly strength. Oft lets hi< "vengeful anger calm. And in the sun doth stretch his length. Beside the iiger. or the larnh. And thus all nature i.- allied In form, in lineament and love; Its golden cords stretch far and wide Through earth lielow. and sky above. — . And what is man to nature's scenes— The earth, and sky, and flood and lie's monarch of the ocean wave. The land to him its fruits must yield. lie liears the image of his Oud, And angel forms around him glow; He's kindred to the courts above And monarch of the world lielow. Bocks, hills and dales, his brothers are; And mountains, with their jSSaks of blue. Join seas, and sky, and moon afar To lift him up to heaven's view. And so all nature shows its ties, l'rorn God above, to man below — On heaven's plains love's fountains rise, Throughout the universe they flow. i-roiit Once ct ituW N'Ep-SMTii WON HIS MEDAL. A STOUY OK THE < ofcXISH W KF.I KKRS. Some dozen years ago, I* fore the railways now throbbing like arteries through the land, were in existence. I wont with two friends to lodge in Cornwall. The place was the most re* tired 1 ever saw. far removed from countrv road, and only reached by venturing o ver a track —for it could not even IK> called a put til— winding along the edges of cliffs often two or three hundred feet above tbe licacli, it was a place to delight all whose fortune bad car ried them within sight of it. The southern end of the bay dosed in a steep slope of living green, caused by a landslip, in which the turf had slid down like a veil to hide j the ruin it left behind, of which nothing was: seen lrotn the I ►each but a back ground of tow ering rocks. Bike some old Norman castle, wo fancied them still resisting step by stop the ad vance of decav. It was near this southern point that the traces of former lawless doings wore j -•till to be seen. A small hole apparently only a fox don, led into a cave where a thousand kegs 1 of French brandy had often l>een stored in a single night. We were anxious t> learn whether the tales we had heard ot Cornish wreckers were true, and it was some quest inning on this subject which drew from the old miller the following sforv: ••I can't say I never hoere of such things, hut I never seed no such doings myself. I have liv ed here, man and boy. these seventy years, he said, "manv and main's the night we've ltoen watching on these bleak chits tor a chance ft* help the poor creatures as had only a frail plank between them and death. Scores of lives I've seed saved, but never one took: no, not even the brute beast that came to the shore from all the multitudes of wrecks I've seed. lam not going to say that when the ships, poor tilings, are all broken up and the timbers come ashore—l'm not clear to say, there is not some, small matter as never gets reported to the kings man. Utile I hlainc those that take it. for, as the Lord HIMIVC knows, I believe it is more the fault of those that keep back the honest dues for the salvage. _ "I rcmeinlier in the time that harwood," and he pointed to some pretty things made by bis son. of the bright colored logwood, "was com ing in. There was those as worked night and day. landing it, and after all their toil they want ed to pav them oIF with just a quarter of what was the right money. So if they that are so well off trv to cheat like that. I'd ask your hon or if it is not setting an example to the poor ? "There's Ned Kmecth. now—he has got that fine medal from that grand place up to London— I am sure he is as tender hearted as a child, but vou'll never make him believe there is any sin in taking a stray baulk or two the tide brings in, and nobody owns; while after he'd been work ing for a whole week they wanted to pay him with a little more than nothing. That's what I call stealing! "But my old head is forgetting the story. Well, well, you must please to excuse it. It does make mv blood boil to hear such falsities. "'Twas seven years last November—l mind it well—me. and Ned were standing as your hon or and me is now, by my old hut. here. It was a hitter night of weather, and was so dark we could not see even the clouds of foam that kept flying in our faces. I'd just put the mill a go ing with "some barley, and was minded to lie down for a nap. (for von I alwavs wake when ftcMovfo (Bxptte. voliti i: NEW SERIES. i ihc corn's down, anil so don't trouble about the ! mill,) when I thought I heard a gun. I could I not make sure, for the wind was lashing the waves mountain high, and the rake of the beach was most enough to stun a bodv. Savs Ito Ned, "Ned, you're a more spry man than inc. just take a look out to sea. Well, he'd not gone hut a step or two when the report came again full and true, and even mv old eyes could see the flash. I stepped up and turned off' the water, and Ned and me went and called up the neigh hois. I sent a WnOit horseback to Trebnrfoot to bring more iielpjjfan l getting the ropes and things we should want if anything could be done for the poor creature-* on board the distressed ship, we went to tlie point we thought she would strike on. We hail no help from our eves, hut "Vere guided by our knowledge of the wind and the tide, ••It might he alsuit five, or Ist ween that and ?ix o'clock, when we got to SalUtone. Wo could not stand against the wind, but were obliged to lie down on the edge of the cliff to try to dis cover the vessel. It seemed a whole night, tho' I suppose it could not be more than an hour, l>efore we could see or hear anything more than the flash of the gun and the roar of the winds and waves. After a hit we touched hands, and went hack to a more sheltered place to talk over what was b-st to be done. Some were for light ing a fire to try to guide them into Widcmouth Kandbav, but I knew 'twjis no use. for 1 was sure the vessel had not a rag of canvas standing to help her helm even if the helm itself was yet serviceable, and so she could never make a reach to clear Deadmnn's Corner, and might miss the only chance of running into deep quiet water near the Cupboard liock. "All at once, while we were doubting what to do. we heard a crash and cry, such as onl\ a stranded ship and the perishing souls on board of her can make. .\lt! you talk ot Cornish wreckers—hut there was wet eves among us then, and men's hearts that never knew fear, fluttered like leaves on the. lime. tree. "We stood right above where the vessel struck. Sheer up from the beach—we measured it after wards—two hundred and fourteen feet. A mouse could not have found footing down that cliff, and as it was within an hour of high water, no help could come to them poor souls but bv letting some one down from the place where we stood. ••The dim light of morning just enabled us to see each other, and the white line of the shore waves. Some thought they could see the wreck: f cannot tell if it was so. For certain we could hear now and then, fainter, and fainter aqd faint er. the cry of mortal man. •T can't stand this.no longer." >.u> Ned, t last. "I can't stand here In lioaTfti atsl sfmVgtii, with mv two hands idle, while they poor crea tures. are lieaten to death against the very rocks we stand on. Hear a hand, here—l'll go down this place." "We stood like men blind and deaf for a min ute, and then all tried to jiersuade him out ol it. for we i bought it was certain death. The rope, most likelv. would be cut through, fraying over the did", or the wind might dash him with fatal force against the rocks. Hut nothing would stop him: he knotted the rope round his waist, and, taking a short gad" in his hand, stood ready to slip oil". He turned a moment, and. says he: ••(.five mv love to Mary and the children, and if T don't ser them more, don't let them come on the parish." ••lie shoook hands all round, and then stop ped off. and in a moment lie was hanging all his weight on the rope we held. "For Cod's sake, lower away," he cried: "I see them." "We saw them, too, for Cod rent the black clouds, and looked through to see that noble deed. In the east there yy;\s a space ol clear sky, thro which a stream of light fell on the scene ln-fore us. An awful scene it was. '1 he ship was bro ken to pieces, and with every tuyn ot tlie waves her timing* tossed and whirled, and among them were the sailors—some past help forever, and two or three still striving hard for life. ".lust as Ned touched the beach, one man was swept out from the narrow ledge they were try ing to hold on to, with every third or fourth wave breaking over them. T lie man Ned came to first was just such another for height and strength as himself, and we held our breath with terror when we saw bv his actions that he was (as is often the ease) driven mad by his danger, and was struggling desperately yvflli the only man who could save him. For full five minutes they wrestled together. Sometimes we thought of pulling Ned tip, and so making sure of him: for it was a hard choice between the poor demented stranger and Neils young wife and three little children. Hut then the water left them once more, and we saw Ned had hint down with his knee on his chest, and wc knew if the tide gave him time he was his master. So it proved, lie whipped a turn or two of rope round his arms, and catching tight to him with his left hand, gave the signal to haul away. "They had barely left the rock—for we pull ed easy at first —when the whole keelson of the vessel was thrown against the very place they had stood upon. We had them in our lift, how ever, and if the weight had been twice as much, it would have come to grass if the rope held. ••We were all too busy drawing them to look to see what happened on the way. I hold it as Bible truth that there's scarce another man but Ned would have brought that sailor up. lie had, as I liavc said, one arm around him, and with the other, warded himself from the sharp face of the cliff, but lie had some grievous brui ses for all his courage and strength. "When the man found himself lifted up in that strange way, lie got more raving than ever, and finding that lie could not use his hands, he fixed his teeth in Neil's check till they met. For all the pain and danger, Ned held on, and I shall never forget to my lart hour what I felt as we drew them in over the ledge of the cliff, and knew they were safe. "Poor Ned ' we laid him in a sheltered place. Freedom of Thought and Opinion. BEDFORD, PAv. FRIDAY MORNING, MARCH 7, 1862. and would have put the stranger with him, hut we soon found he was too wild to be trusted free, so we bound him for his own safety. "In a few minutes after they were landed Neil's wife came. We had sent a hoy for spir its and tilings, and he, youngster-like, told what Ned was about. None who were there will ev er forge) that fair young thing as she fell on her knees by her husband's side, ami swooned away with her head on his hreast. "Ah, the man that had just hrqyed such dan ger, wept like a child as he smoothed tho golden hair of his wife. "As weak as a child he was, too, from loss of blood. Well, other women came soon after, and bound up their wounds, and then we got a cart and brought them down to my house. "Eleven men and three boys were the crew of the Hesperus, as the ship was called, and only that one man saved, lie lay for days—very quiet at hist—and scarce spoke a word. What he did say was about his mother, and the name of some young woman. When we stripped him —by the doctor's orders—we found a little pack et hung around his neck by a black riband, and as it was wet with the salt water, we took it a wav to dry. Mv wife who tended him more than tlie rest, said he seemed to keep groping for something in his bosom, so she put it back again: and when he found it there all right, he never strove to rise and call out as ho did liefore. It is not for me to sav, but my old woman al ways considered that packet to hold some true love token. She often said she wished she knew, for she thought how glad his mother agd sweet heart would be to know he was alive. "Well, he went on in that strange way nigh 011 three weeks, and we did not know so much i ;is the name of the sick man. Just as Ned was | going about again all well, we thought the sight! ! of him might lu ing tlie sailor to his recollections. ! So Ned went and sat fiv the liedside till he a- i woke. It was getting near C'lipistmas, and he; | wanted the poor man to fie well enough to en j joy the time with us. When lie opened his eyes, : | Ned held out his hand, and says lie : "Give you joy, comrade. Av. I see you'll lie : ' more than a match for me gcxt turn we lave, j particularly when 'tis grass we stand on." "With that the tears came into his poor, dim \ eyes, and catching Ned's hand, he said : •J rememlier now. Were none saved but me?" "Ned was tearful to tell the truth, in case it. might make him worse, so he just laughed and j sa id: "You've been so long sleeping off the effects j ~f yapr wetting, that they've gone ai\d left you. j Hut 'tis time we knew your name, stranger, if. "Gaseoigne," he said—"Richard Gascoigne. Has no one written to my mother ?" ••How could we," says Ned, "as we did not J know where she lived ?" "With that he got up to come away, for he . was afraid if he stayed he'd tell himself about j his shipmates, only three of whose bodies were ' ! ever found. i "He'd just got to the door when the }>oor man ; wanted him to come back, but liefore he could ; (to n about the parson came into the room, and j Ned got away. "Wc never knew tlie particulars for certain, j hut always lielicve. to this day, the young man ! was 110 common sailor. t "The parson used to come and sit with him • hours together, and a fine lot of letters they 1 wrote between them. But we were never the wiser for any of theif scholarship doings, I wit in j one thing, and that won't *te forgot round here 1 for many's long day. "The Christmas day we were all standing a- j bout me church door, shaking hands, and wish-j ing each other a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, when 1 lie little gate that led from j the parsonage lawn into the church-yard opened, ! and a lady came among us, so beautifully dress- i led and so beautiful herself that we all stopped j talking to look at her. '•IHi liefore my story, though, for I should i have told you the stranger had gone to the par- j sonage as soon as he could lie moved. "Well, the lady came forward into the midst j of the crowd, and she said: "Wjijeh of all you brave kind men is Edward i Smecth ?" "Ned was just behind rne, and seemed ready j to slink awav, hut I pushed him fore, and said j I : "If it please your ladyship, that's him.' "Well, Ned knowed manners too well to run > away then, so there he stood, blushing like a j girl. "The lady took his hand, and seemed going , to make a speech ; hqt §he had only just liegun j her thanks when her heart rose in her throat, and • the tears stood in her, eyes, and she only said, j 'God bless you ' and put a little IMIX into Ned's Lipid, and then kissed his great rough hand as if I had been a baby's face. Ned seemed struck all | of a heap. He looked at the things she had giv- I en him, and turned his hands as if he expected j to see a mark where her beautful Hps had touch- | l - . - i !J "\\ eIL as the lady eould not speak for her- : self, tho person up and told us all the sense of it. j How that there was a grand place up to Lon- • don, with a great many grand people, who sub scrilied among them to reward them that saved j life. "And proud," says the parson, 'proud I am 1 that such a token has come into my parish.' > He said many kind and good words, and then told Ned to open the little box and show what; was in it. There, sure enough, was a beautiful medal with Ned's name, and the name of the man saved, and socr,e Latin words, which the par son said was that we should never give up trying j to save life, for perhaps a little spark of hope might yet remain, though all seemed gone. "Ah ! here comes Ned, he'll be proud to show your honor the medal." So we walked into Ned's cottage hard by, and wore delighted to find that, though seven long years had passed—years that had robbed him , of his fair young wife, and laid her, with her new born babe, in an early tomb —his dark eyes Would brighten, and his fine form looked taller, as he exhibited that well-earned medal from the Royal Humane Society. THE FOLLY OF EMANCIPATION- There is no infatuation less able to stand the scrutiny of reason and common sense than that whl.jh believes negro emancipation would eon tribute to the success of our arms, or the res toration of that fraternity without which peace could not be permanent, and lasting. The a dopfion of such a policy :vs this, in oliedience to '**: clamor of a noisy faction of Abolitionists who have been the worst enemies of our do me-tie |>eace for the hist thirty years, would die the Northern people, now substantially united in fighting for the Union under the Con stitution. demoralize the army, produce discord an I contention, aiul force upon the country a j question far more embarrassing than the slave ' question—namely, the negro question. Thee-, mancipation of the slaves, instead of conclu ding our domestic troubles, would only re-eom menee them in a more embarrassing form. Tbe negroes of the South have now a fixed status sanctioned by the Constitution; and there is no reason why we should trouble our heads alio tit [ them one way or the other. They can do us little harm as slaves, and no good as freemen. Our policy, therefore, is to prosecute a vigorous war against rchelliop, without wasting our strength upon foreign and extraneous issues. Should the Abolitionists carry their point and drive the Abministration into issuing a de cree of universal emancipation, the effect, if auy, would be to force upon our immediate at tention the question, what shall be dope with tlii' negroes. , But while the rebellion lasts we do not be li ;ve that a decree of emancipation would haye even this effect. It would oply divide the North ami embitter the .South during the prosecution or' the war, rendering its result more doubtful tlwn it now is. The Government would be e.rtt-ebled by the utter annihilation of the Un i a sentiment still prevalent in portions of the Southern States; tlie war would assume the character of conquest or extirpation on one side ; aad resistance to the death 011 tlie other—and j i' 111 spite of these obstacles, it should tennin- . acc in the eptjpi subjugation of the rebel States, instead of bringing to us peace and quietness, it v find us in our exhausted and impoverish ed condition, with four millions of negroes on ear hands to protect aud provide tor. "Jliey assimilate with the population upon terms of equality—never be made citizens of this nation; and the Northern people would have either to bear enormous taxation for the purpose of colonizing thern, or contribute to their support as free and idle vagrants. A nation so extensive and diversified in its interests as ours can never lie governed by nar row theories. Dor sympathies must be as bound less as the continent, and our toleration as ex pansive. The Fathers of the republic in their ! wisdom comprehended this great truth when I they formed a Constitution adapted to all parts: of the country —a Constitution enabling the ■ New England States and tfoe Southern States to j live under one Government, without compelling j uniformity in their domestic institutions. And it is because infatuated men in both sections have ' sought to force their narrow sectional views up on the whole country. that we are now plunged in the horrors of civil war. The Abolitionists of the North and the Secessionists of the South are the. great criminals who have embroiled a whole people in fratricidal strife; and, until they are both extirpated, we cannot hope for peace. The extreme opinions of neither of these incendiary factions can ever govern this country in peace. We can never all become Secession ists, or all Abolitionists. Our only safety is to abide by the tolerant and comprehensive princi ples of the Constitution, which are alike remo ved from both extremes. If the Union is to be preserved, the Southern man must learn to ljye j in peace with the New England Yankee so long as he renders his vagaries harmless by confining them to his own territory ; and the New Eng land man must learn to tolerate the most extreme type of pro-slaveryism so long as it keeps with in Constitutional limits. Upon any other ba sis than this—the original foundation of our Government —we can never expect that a poo pie. inhabiting a continent, and differing in ori gin, institutions, mental characteristics and edu cation, will ever live in harmony. If one sec tion determines to impress its peculiar ideas tt pon the whole nation, and will abide no differ ence of opinion—if, instead of a Union of c- j qnal States with each exercising absolute con- : trol over its domestic concerns, the aim of the i war is to render us a homogeneous people in j every particular, we have indeed undertakcp an i impossible t;isk. But as the true purpose of the J Government is restoration and not alteration, j its success depends in a great measure, upon the , fidelity wjth which it adheres to this great ob- | ject.—Emancipation would boa fatal departure, j —Patriot & Union. A WOMAN* ELECTED MAYOR. —At a late elec-! tion in Oskaloosa, lowa, there was but one can- ' didate presented to lie voted for. The "boys" did not like him and were bound to have an other candidate, and so, more in the spirit of fun than otherwise, they nominated Mrs. Nan cy Smith on the day of election, and to the as tonishment of everybody, when the votes were counted in the evening it was found that Mrs. Nancy Smith had twenty-one majority over the regular candidate for Mayor. iST Before her marriage, the Queen of England was a wayward and fitful young woman—sub ject to the most variable caprices, and entirely uncontrollable by her ministers. Shrewd politi cians have always ascribed the calm and equi table course of British policy to the influence of Prince Albert, who was one of the most shrewd and accomplished diplomatists. H IIOIiG KUnBGB, 3995. Tl)c Schoolmaster 2lbroat>. EDITED BY SIMON SYNTAX, ESQ. K7"Teachers and friends of education are respect fully requested to send communications to tbe above, care of "Bedford Gazette. 1 ' A WORD TO THE PEOPLE, Citizens of Bedford county! You will soon be called upon to exercise an important prerog ative; that of choosing persons who shall be | clothed with certain prescribed powers to gov lem your local affairs. For the peace and pros perity of your several districts, it is as impor tant that proper persons l>e chosen, as it is for the good of the whole country that proper leg islative and executive heads he elected. But there is a certain local office, to which, in a I great many instances, not enough attention is given in the proper selection of officers, and to which we wish to call your notice in this article, —we mean that of School Director. We have always been of the opinion—sand our expe rience has never taught us to change that opin ion—that the very best men in the land should be selected for School Directors. Everv friend - of education will at once see the force of this assertion, and no long train of argument is needed to establish the truth of it; and as we are more particularly addressing the friends of education, we do not deem it necessary to do so. But as we remarked before, this subject does not receive the attention which it deserves. Ivt many instances jiersons who are apposed to common school education, manage to have them selves elected in order to do all in their power to break down the system, just because its friends do not exercise proper vigilance to keep such in truders out. Thus the progress of the system is retarded, and its harmonious workings de stroyed. With but a little vigilance, all this can be easily avoided. See that you do your duty in that respect, by selecting none but the best men air ( ong you for School Directors. Let no man, under any circumstances, slip into that important office, whose antecedents on the sub ject of our common school system are not, like Caesar's wife, "beyond suspicion." If you love education, if you are in fftYQ? of discharging your duty to your progeny by having their minds properly educated, and thus rear monuments that shall bless your memory long after you cease to exist, you will do this. Although our country is torn by intestine strife, and every kind of business is more or less prostrated and paralyzed, yet we must not neglect the subject of education, we dare not tear down the Tem ple of Learning, or like Samson, we will be crushed beneath its ruins. "We must edu cate ! we must educate," exclaims a celebrated writer, "or we must perish !" Bedford county compares favorably with her sisters, and the commonwealth, in educational matters; and the common school system has in sinuated itself into the favor of a majority of its citizens to such an extent, that wc doubt wheth er it could be easjly uprooted. We apprehend no great danger, therefore, from the influx of a few antagonistic directors, but we don't want them elected because they are clogs to the wheels, and throw obstructions before the "car of education" and impede its onward progress. Select men who are openly avowed friends of the cause ; those who will appreciate the importance of their office, discharge its duties not for its em oluments—-for there are none—But who love education for its own sake; and who will stand nobly to their work regardless of the few grum blers who shall see tit to oppose them. Do this, and you will have the consciousness of having done your duty in an humble but important ca pacity. ABOUT AN EXHIBITION. We had the pleasure, on the evening of the anniversary of Washington's birth-day, of lieing preseut at a school exhibition, in our neighboring borough, Bloody Run, with whieh we were particularly delighted. It was a joint affair, wc believe, between the Sabbath schools and the day school; the whole under the control of PROF. J. C. CI.ARKSON, the excellent teacher of that place, to whose energy and ability the performance owed its success. The proceeds of the exhibition were to be appropriated to the lau dable object of procuring a library for the .Sab bath schools of that place. When we say that we were delighted with the j>erformances, we but re-echo the sentiment of every one who was present. Such propriety in selection of pieces; such tasteful arrange ment and consummate skill in performance wc have seldom witnessed on similar occasions. Among the many pieces, the following were gems, and elicited the approbation of the au dience : "/a the light! In the light!" " IFasA ington crossing the Delaware ;" " Death of Pulas ki-," and " B T ashingtonrS Dream of Liberty." The personification of the 11 Goddess of Ijberty" was exquisite; and the tableaux made more beauti ful pictures than artist ever conceived, or could possibly execute. We do not. generally speaking, approve of - 4* y after you taw her, 1 foun UIK % 'barter than the expected )ne Square, UW-.LQ£ from her other at tat; One Square, each add he . , ' "ou cannot fait than three month* 0 f ,er 09 3 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS. 1 VC- One aquare ........ $2 00 $3 00 $5 00 Two square* . 300 500 900 Three squares 400 700 12 00 i Column ........ 500 900 15 00 i Column 800 12 OU. 20 00 4 Column 12 00 18 00 30 00 One Column 18 00 30 00 CO 00 The spice occupied by ten lines of this size of type counts one square. All fractions of a square under fire lines will be measured aa a half square ; and all over five lines as a full square. All legal advertisements will be charged to the person hand ing them in, VOL. 5. NG. 31. school exhibitions, because too many do not exhibit any thing particular except a super ficial acquirement, by which precious time has been wasted, and which is an injury rather than a benefit, but such as the one to which we al lude, are certainly commendable. If we liad properly conducted exhibitions in connection with the examinations at the close of the schools, it would qo doubt have a tendency to create a deeper interest in the public mind in the cause of education. A great deal can be done by the proper exertions of the common school teach er, to awaken that interest, and not a little credit is due Mr. Clarkson for his efforts to build up the cause in his sphere of labor. The people everywhere will properly appreciate such teachers. fcy'llie following very good rules have been adopted in a school room in Maine ; No chewing tobacco in school hours. No kissing or squeezing the girls in the entry. No snapping apple seeds at the master. No cutting benches with jack knives. No novels allowed to be brought to school BORROWING MD LENDING. There seems to be some infatuation about a loan, esecially a loan of money. No sooner does one gum manage to extract fiye dollars from the pocket of another, and that other a long ac quaintance and x friend than astnuigness seems to sit on the borrower's part towards the ben efactor, the one accommodated appears to con ceive a sudden and unaccountable dislike to the one who was willing to accommodate him and it is ten to one if the man receiving the five dollars, does not very shortly, shun the one who loaned it altogether and even go so far as to cut him dead when he does chance to meet him. There is a concealed perversity in human nature on this point, which is next to impossible to account for. Why it is that a man turns on his bene factor in this fashion, passes the reaeh of all or dinary comprehension. But not a few shrewd and dry individuals take advantage of this quality in the human character, to get rid of disagreeable and impor tunate acquaintances entirely. We know a la dy who said she married her husband at last, just to get clear of him. He had bothered her more than half to death, probably, with his at tentions, and could not, or would not, see that he was excessively disagreeable to her; and so she up and married him, to bring the matter to an end! It js exactly the same with men who are glad enough to lend others small sums of money, feeling pretty certain that they wiil loe troubled with them no longer. The late Amos Lawrence, of Boston, once told a deserving young merchant who came to ask for assistance, that he would gladly give him the aid he required, if, when next he saw his benefactor coming up, or down the street, the young man would not turn suddenly off up a by-street! It ap pears that Mr. Lawrence, therefore, understood the whole mystery of this business. But sum it all up, there is no mistake that many a man is cheaply got rid of for an acquaintance, whom a loan of five or ten dollars is sufficient to gptkc p.bliyioqs tq fine's existence. EFFECT OF THE WESTERN SUCCESSES. The triumph in Kentucky has caused much dismay among the agitators in Congress and the personal enemies of McClellan. They begin to see that these victories are the effectual justifi cation of the general's schemes and their own condemnation. Boscoc Conklingtold the House a day or two ago that the victories in Kentucky were in his judgment largely due to the labors of the committee on the Conduct of the War! To a similar effect is the following from the Washington correspondent of the New York Evening Pout:— "In other words, those members of Congress who urged speedy action in the field are to be crushed, if possible, with the very news of vic tory which comes from the South and West. It is but just to these gentlemen to state an un questioned fact—that the late victories are owing almost entirely to the immense outside pressure which has been brought to bear upon some of our leading generals. It is very convenient for gentlemen to deny this fact, but the state ment is susceptible of proof." To prove this it would be necessary to sbov,' that the "outside pressure" completed the gun boats, manned them, brought down the ord nance from Pittsburg for which they had to wait, raised the rivers to the proper height, and thus rendered possible the movement which the army has been so long waiting to make. A CHAPTER ON BOYS- Boys! What a world of frizzled heads, dirty faees, chapped hands, and crooked, toeless boots this simple monosyllable suggests. Boys/ living, moving institutions of mischief and sport! Crea tures, who run, tumble, scratch, bite, scream, chatter, and hammer their way through the world with the greatest possible impudence and nonchalance. They are the things which so worry the dignity of Old Ferule, who tries to keep them in rows, but fails, for they arc like crooked pins—can't be kept straight. They tum the house up side down, keep a continual uproar in the streets, batter things every way, make life misery, and threaten to pull to pieces. They are till pervading. They are found in the woods, in the fields, in the streets, in the attic, in the cellar* in the burn, in church in taverns and saloons, in stores and shops, on trees, under ground—everywhere ; and ever the same noisy, jostling, original being. They wait not upon care, but away they dash upon their reckless train, apparently heeding nothing—lost in the giddy whirls of their sports—yet not a single move is mode, not a word is uttered by the Old Governor but their ready eye and ear catches it and lays it up in their storehouse of incidents for future consideration.