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American Lancaster gazette. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1855-1860, May 03, 1855, Image 1

Image and text provided by Ohio Historical Society, Columbus, OH

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85026105/1855-05-03/ed-1/seq-1/

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Cbcaucastcr incite
'.uVpICK Old Public Building floutheart corner ol
. , ttao Public Hqur. '
TERMS One ye.rln dvnco,5,0(n l the cxiilra
U...1 oftlia yenr, J-.'.jl); Clubtoflcn, $15,00; Club, of
lruty-Ure, jm.oo.
On,, s, ni.ru. iniinei(orltf4ji)inroolnortlon ' 1,00
3 Month! 6 Montil
Ono Square 3.0 tjW
Two " 4,08 6,00
.L Throe " 5,00 S.OO
Oiia-fannhcoluinn . 7,o- ' l0."
Oim-thinl . 9.00.. -M
One-half ". 10,00 ,0
ii li.oo no.oo
u.l. 11(1.. ....I Itiaurttnil
' 13.()it
. )U,00
' 55,00 .
"Yearly edTcrllson Iirto lh pritllogo of rnowlng
: their nvortU:nniiit. " .-.in
"TB'iino Cimlfi, not excceillnu one qiirn win
bo InwrtJil, for nhwrlli-r, st $3,00 per year, non
(Ubscrlbort will bo charged 0,00.
Thursday. Morning Mny 3, 155
U to the orchunl,
. . Down In the hme
Hunted all over,
Hunted In vain.
.. For thoao which wondered
Thn n.-nil I m O n 11
; (Ws thinking of Fnul,
' And the men of Bulh-Shenn;) ,
Vlh they'd "got mlrod,"
Or they hd broko
' Their uecks, when they Iwlnted
Them out of the yoke.
Th.,r ilwivi loVeil clover.
l' '' ' ' . Par mure than their yokes;
Vlrst lime they broko over,
SUould've put on tlionokcu.
All comes of improving
" ' The lo.son we'd tunglit thciu, -
. Lute to think of It now,
In viiluhuvlngougut thc!ii;
Hopples and foltera
" Portlio onruly "critters,"
That will uot slay pull
Hut Saul ho found olio thing
And we huvo found something
Becllos, wedges, and glut,
Just whoro llicy left them,
When they anatchod up their guns,
And pat aftor quail.
Hogs In tho garden . ',
Cows In the corn
Humble-bees building
Their nests in the burn:
' Hung tho "low fences,"
Teaching cattle to Ju mpl
Gates off their hinges
Leuky old pump
' Candles too slender
To soo by the bats
That couio through tho window,
For lack of more hati
"Tatcrs" few in a hill,
And dwarfish at that;
. And liulf of theui wusled . - .
'Twoen the "girl" and Hie rat;
Owing to planting
. Wrong lime of tho "moon,"
'f Too lato with them last oar,
This year too soou.
,1 Children In tatters, 4
Don't know how to spoil
Wife In tears always,
There's nothing goes well
Swine wllh their jokes ou
Kino withthelr pokosou
' Clultea sight, d'yo soe?
Raw-boned und long-necked
But what could yon expoct
From such farmorsas weT
Or, what would you give,
The secret to know?
'TIs writ on tho face
Jeimal of Ctmrnertt. P.
The -Yt-nr 'wo Live In.
This question does not appear to bo set
tled yet.' This year, according to tho Ma
hometan theory of time, is 1270; according
to the Jewish, 5C15, and according to thu
Christian, fiC50. Thib is dated from the
creation of tho world,' in the Jewish and
Christian computation, and from the He
gira or flight of Mahoraot, in tho firsL
Tho Alphonsino tablos, however, make
this year the 7088th from tho creation;
whilo tho Greek Church dates this year as
'7362, and somo of tho Eastern Churches
date it sixteen years later than the Greek
church. ' Tho Chinese adopt tho Sexagen
ary Cyclo of CO years, giving a name to
each year. Seventy-live cycles have now
elapsed, their era commencing in 27U0 B,
C, so that they uow deem themselves in
the year 4554. By the Hindoo era of the
Caliguy this year is 4955. Tho Moxioan
era dates this year as 2944, only com
mencing 1090 years B. C. Tho Mexican
year is correctly astronomical. Tho Tal
mud makes this, year 7199; the Septua
gint, 7726; and the Samaritan Pentateuch,
.6554. :
Dr. Hales, the eminent chronologist,
fixes this year 7265, but the Catholic
Church adopt the bost settled authorities,
and designate this year as 5858. Anno
Mundi, or creation of the world, and 1854,
Anno Domini If the Roman Empire had
existed as it was under the emperors, this
year would be 2507, dating form the foun
dation of Rome.
There is as much uncertainty regarding
the dato of tho flood, as of the creation.
The Soptnagint makes it 3426 A. M., Jo
sephus, 3146, the Samaritan Pentateuch,
2997, and the modern Jews, 2104. Some
of tho profane writes make it 2358 A. M.
' ' Amid all the abstruse and painful calcu
lations which have been made relative to
, these epochs, tho Chritian era is undoubt
edly the most correct and authentic Ac
cording to that, the world was created
6858 years ago, ' the deluge swept the
earth 3510 years ago, and 2348 years be
fore Christ, and that we are now living in
the year 1855. dating from, the birth of
NO. 52
, . OP NEW YORK., . ...
Mr Dear Sir, In mv two last letters I
have stated to you some of the causes of
my early misgivings as to yours beyg a
true church, and as to its holding the true
faith. These causes I might multiply in
definitely; for you well know it lobe a law
of the human mind chat when its confi
dence is once shaken, it sees causes of sus
picion even in things truo and honest. In
my first letter I stated to you that when I
deliberately rejected the authority and
teachings of your church, I became an in
fidel. And my object in the preset letter
is to reveal to you the process through
which my mind passed, in its transition
from popery to infidelity. I believe that
your Reverence will pronounce it a very
natural one. .
On reaching the years of maturity my
mind was a perfect blank as to all religious
instruction. And if suuh instruction is
ever given by your church or priests, my
advantages were peculiarly good for re
ceiving it. Indeed I was even talked of
as a candidate for Mavnooth. Whilst mv
mind was filled with superstitious uotions
concerning meats and penances, and exter
nal observances, and legends, it was ut
terly ignorant of the liible. With my
Missal 1 was somewhat familiar; I said the
Catechism when I was confirmed at the
age of nine or ton; and that was the amount
of my religious education.' At the age of
eighteen years the Catechism was forgot
ten, and the Missa) was neglected; and as
my conscience was uneducated, and my
mind unfurnished with religious principles,
the only test of truth left me was roy com
mon sense. I then became the associate
of companions of Protestant education, who
would sometimes ask me my reason for
this and that observance; and not being a
blo to give any, as none were ever give mo,
I was frequently put to the blush. I can
didly state to you that it was in this way I
was first led to bring to the test of my
common sense, then my only standard,
some of the doctrines and rites of your
church. And this reveals tho reason why
your priesthood is so intensely concerned
that Catholic children should bo guarded
fiom nil contaet with those of Protestant
education. The snii it, of inquiry is con
tagious; and pop, 141.018,1 nd pi iists fear
it worse than the plague. Its indulgfiice,
you know, either is, or leads to, mortal sin.
Let ine briefly state to you somo of the ef
fects of this spirit of inquiry upon me.
From my youth up I was taught to ab
stain from all meals on Fridays und Satur
days. Why on those days mora than any
other, I was never told. And if by mis
take I was involved in the violation of this
law, I felt a burden upon my conscience,
of which confession could only relievo me.
Circumstances lod me to inquire into this
matter.' I saw good papists eating eggs,
and fish, and getting drunk on these days;
but this was no violation of the law of tho
Church! Yet if these persons bhculd eat
meat of any kind; or uso gravy in any
way, their conscience were ti on bled and
they must perform penance! This led mo
to ask. Is tins reasonable: If 1 may eat
meat on Thursday, why not on Friday?
Lan uod, in things ot tins kind, make tlint
to be a sin at one time which is not on
another? I saw also persons, for whoso
moral worth I had the highest regard,
eating meats on those days, and without
any injury t And I camo to thq conclu
sion that your regulations upon this mat
ter were unreasonable, and rejected them.
And, as far as I now remomber, this was
my first step towards light nnd freedom.
Whother our course is upwards, to
wards tho region of light, or downwards,
towards that of darkness, one step always
prepars foranother. Devoted to reading
at this period of my life, I perused, with
o'ut discrimination, every thing that came
in my way. Some book or tract, now for
gotten, gave rise to some inquiries ns to
the Mass. I asked, what does it meas? I
could not tell, though for years a regular
attendant upon it. Why does the - priest
dress so: What book does he read from,
when carried now to his right, and now to
his left? What mean those candles burn
ing at noonday? Why do I say prayers
in Latin, which I understand not.' ohould
I not know what I am saying when ad
dressing my Maker? Why bow dowu.and
strike my breast, whon the little bell
rings? What does it all mean? The
darkness of Egypt rested upon theso ques
tions. I thus reasoned with myself; God
is a spiritual and intelligent being, and he
requires an intelligent worship. What
worship I render him in the Mass, I
know not. My intelligent worship only is
acceptable to him, and is beneficial to me.
I am a rational being, and I degrade my
nature, and insult my Maker, by offering
to Him a worship in which neither my rea
son, nor IDs intelligence is consulted.
Having come to this conclusion, I gave up
the Mass as a form of worship well enough
fitted for an idol, but unfitted to be ren
dered by a rational being to the infinitely
intelligent Jehovah. I have nevor been to
Mass since, savo. out of curiosity to see how
an ignorant people can bo edified by what
seems to mo the most unmeaning and far
cical of all the rites that ever mail : has de
vised.' And you know, sir, that with all
devotion and honesty a Catholio may wait
on you Masses until his locks are as white
as your surplice, and then pass into eter
nity without one single spiritual idea upon
the subject of religion; rosolving it all into
external observances.. . :.
When I came to the aboto conclusion
on tho subject of the Mass, I experienced
no great difficulty as to tho other matters
which passed rapidly in review before me.
Must I go to Confession? My prejudices
said, Yes. My reason ssiid, No. And my
logic was simply ns follows: If I truly
repent of my sins God will forgive me; if I
ao not, me priest cannot absolve mo.
And I spumed as unreasonable, nnd as an
insult to my common sense, your terrible
doctrine that "Every Christian 1s bound,
underlain of damnation, to confess to a
priest all his mortal sins, whioh after dilli
gent examination ho can possibly remom
ber; yea even his most secret sins; his very
thoughts; yea and all tho circumstances of
them which are of any moment." I ask
you, sir, if this dogma of tho Council of
Trent is not a horrible dogma? It sus
pends upon confessing to a priest, what
the Bible suspends on believing in Chris:.!
Do vou, sir, believe it? Can you believe
it? '
With yet greater abhorrence, I gave np
the doetrino of Transubstantiation. As
explained by Dr. Clialloner, in his "Cath
olic Christian Instructed," Chap. 5, it
means "that the bread and wine are chang
ed by tho consecration into the body and
blood of Christ; and are so chatisred that
Christ himself, true God, nnd truo man, is
truly, really, and substantially present, in
the sacrament." With this doctrine in
view, I went to witness the administration
of the Eucharist, as you call it. I went to
Saint Peter's in Barclay-street. The com
municants drew around the altar upon their
knees. With a little box in his hand the
priest passed from one to the other, taking
a wafer, smaller than that used in sealing
a letter, from the box, and placing it upon
the extended tonguo of the' communicant.
I was always taught that the teeth must
not touch the wafer; that it must melt
upon the tongue. This I find to he the
law of your church. I witnessed the cer
emony, as I had ot:en done before. 1 re
tired from tho scene, asking these ques
tions: Is that liule wafer tho real body and
blood of Christ? Does the priest, in that
liule box. not as largo as a snuff-box, car
ry two or throe hundred leal bodies of
Christ? Do theso communicants, each in
their turn, eat the real body and blood of
Lhrist; My dear sir, 1 cannot express to
you tho violence with which my mind re
jested the absurdity. Look at it in what
li",ht you may, it is abhorrent to our com
mon reason it gives the lie to everv sense
with which God lias endowed us. It is a
wicked imposition
Having gono through this process, not
with a light and trilling, but with a serious
mind, my prejudices rising in stormy re
bellions against my convictions, 1 raised
up mv eves, ana ocnoiu, my reiiirion was
gone! The priest was a juggler, nnd his
religion a fable! Every thing that I hnd
every leaniGd from parent and priest to
esteem as religion, was now rejected as
false; and not knowing but that this was
all of religion that was in tho world, I had
no alternative but infidelity. 1 had no test
of truth but my reason, and when I bro't
your system to that, I was compelled to
reject it, not only as false, but as a mon
strous absurdity, and with it, all religion.
Nor havo I, dear sir, any hesitation in
saying that tho process of my own mind
from popery to infidelity, is that through
which multitudes of minds have passed,
and are now passing. To nn inquiring
mind, which knows nothing of tho Bible,
infidelity is the fruit of popery. Hence in
papal countries, whilst the masses are su
perstitious, the intelligent nnd educated
are infidel. If they sustain the vulgar re
ligion, it is for reasons of state. Hence,
the infidelity of France, of Spain, of Italy.
At the present hour tho mind of these
countries is more infidel than papal. And
this is true of every country on the globe
whero your religion prevails. It makes
the masses superstitious, and the intelli
gent, infidels.
And permit mo to say, my dear sir, in
reference to yourself, that I have' far too
hiirh resrnrd for your intelligence to admit
for a moment that you believe in the ab-1 raised it again; spread its wings; and soar
surd doctrines which you church tenches. ; ed away singing; its thirst was appeased.
Like the ancient priests of Egypt, you must, I walked up to tho trough, and there, in
have ono class of opinions for the people, 1 tho stone-work, I saw a little hole about
and another for yourself. Will you say ' the size of a wren's egg. The water held
that this is harsh and uncharitable? None there had been a source of revival and ro
knows better than yourself that history nf-1 freshment; it had found enough for the
firms it of popes, cardinals, and bishops
that have lived before you. On no other
ground can I possibly account for your
remaining an hour in tho Roman Catholic
Church. - ; ' '
" 1 With great respect, yours, - -
What Is Dirt!
The train, meat, fruit you eat, are all
,i:f Ti,o .i;fnl ,. o,.n nnrnJ,, n r,lto
upon "which you place your food, was dug' nd it rolled its legs against themun
out ofa clav bank last week.' That bright 1 Joked le yellow hose as the
steel blade with which you are now lifting! bee-keepers say; and then,:j. heavily laden,
the salt out of that crystal cup, if left in , flewnway home. 1 hen ,. said I "Thou
contact with that salt a littlo space, a vejy earnest seeking honey, and finding none,
short fraction of eternitv--would turn to
dirt Tory dirty dirt. Even the crystal
cup, reduced to powuer anu
mixed wmi
water, would change into the potato you!
are eating; And if crystal is dirt noth-i
ing but dirt, what are you yourself? Dust
thou art. ' You need not be ashamed to
talk about yourself or your fellow what
you are or he will be, in the course of na
ture' eternal changes for by her inimi
table laws, we are but dirt purified from its
most bflonsive particles for a little season,
and shall return again to our original con-:
dUion'.Z Illustrate,' ' - j
It that the way tied Eaiut1
It was the evening of tlm Sabb.ab.
Tho sun had just descended bcluw the
horizon, and his niullow rayJrero thrown
back upon the ' fleecy cloud, which hung
in reefs and folds along fftc western sky,
and tinged it with golden hues, so varie
gated that a p':ou mind might innocently
eontemjilate ii as imaging forth to earthly
expectants, the drapery of those mansions
in the heavenly temple, which oar ascend
ed Lord has prepared for his redeemed
ones. ...... :.-..-
The hour for the last services of the Sab
bath was approaching, and a vouny ladv
was standing at tho window admiring the
gorgeou sunset, hcodless of a tinny broth
er by her sidu, until he exclaimed, "O how
beaulilul it is! Sister, is that the way God
paint!,?" , .
fho idea was not new, that all the col
ors aro contained in every beam of light,
but it was newly dres-ed. It was divested
of its philosophic robes, nnd beautifully
vested in innocent and elr.id like drayery.
God paints with rays of light. Evctv.col-
lor simple and compound, wkh all their
modifications, variously combined and ar
ranged, winch adorn and beautify visible
creation, are pcnciliugs f an infinitely
skillful hand, drawn in rays of light, pour
ed forth from the sun, llio centre of our
Ours is a beautiful world still, though
sin has sadly blurred it skillfully arrang
ed us it . was, and richly adorned by the
hand of the Great Architect. They only
who have gone to that bright and sinless
world, of which 'God himself is the light,'
tho sun in tho centre, shedding forth his
boams of empyrean light upon all tho holy
things in heaven, are able fully to appre
ciate or satisfactorily to respond to the
question of our little friend, "Is that the
way God paiuts?" fenn. Baptist.
"Nothing is it." Last year's bird's
nests and squirrel-quarried filberts me not
tho only things in the world, of which it
may truly bo said, "nothing in it." A
coquelto's ' heart and a bacLclor's home,
and a candidate's cordiality, nnd a Shy
lock's smile of all these, may it safely be
picdicten, there's lothing in it.
"Nothing in it," eiiesihe Hunker, as lie
glances over column after column of the
daily, and sees nothing to stock or ex
change no hint whereby l.o can make
cent per cent no competitor bankrupt.
"Nothing in it," exchuuis the politician,
when lie vainly seeks a leader on tho 'state
of the country," or the latest card, or the
newest candidate.
"Nothing in it," murmurs the maiden,
when the poet's corner is filled np with the
rhetoric of poik, and the "niariiage head"
is crowded out by "fancy goods at cost."
"Nothing in it," sighs the mourner, as
she looks over the page so full of life nnd
human interests no tribute to "Nelly"
who died yesterday no plaint for Jemmy
who languishes to-day. . ,
"Nothing in it," laughs tho bride, ns
her eyes dance over the columns: the cap
itals look like bridesmaids, the italics are
waltzers, the paragraph's are pauses in the
tune, and she is too happy to read.
So amidst them all, the poor Editor has
a thankless time- of it. "Mate Tel-el" is
pronounced ngainsthim by those whomhe
respects and those whom ho loves. . 'Tis
nn arrow at random---a leap in the dark,
and when tho last "proof" is read, and tho
sheets are fluttering, like autumnal leaves
from the press, and he reviews his labor,
he too,- is constrained to say with the ret
of tho world, "there's nothing in it!"
Lessons of Contentment. It happened
once, in a hot summer's day, I was stand
ing near a well; when a little bird flew
down, seeking water. There was, indeed,
n largo trough near the well, but it was
empty, and I grieved for a moment to think
that the little creature must go away thirs
ty; but it settled upon the edire of tho
troun-h, bent its little head forward, then
present, nnd desired no more; ibis is con
tentment. . .... -j.: ' j
Again, I stood by a lovely, sweet-smelling
flower, and there came a bee, humming
and sucking; and it chose the . flower for
its field of sweets. But the flower had no
honey, This I know, for it had no nec
tary. ..'What, then, thought I, will the bee
do?,, Itcamo buzzing out of. the cap to
take a further flight; but itspiod the slam
, ina lull ol f'oicicn lamia, roou ior maKin
Mia m i t
1 been saiisneawun wax anunastsiorea
't for house, tliBt thy labor may not bo
- -
lesson of contentment. -
The night is far spent the daik night
of trouble that sometimes threatened to
close around us, but the day is at hand.and
even in the . night there are stars, aud I
have looked out on them, and been com
forted; for as one set, I could nlwuys see
another rise, and each was a lamp show
ing me somewhat of the depth of the riches
of the wisdom and Knowledgo of God.
Psralle from the German.
.Tub Corai, ok, what Little , Hinds
can oo. Can a child do as much as an
inst-ct? vWhy yes". ecUims eery young
reader, "and more tooV' Let us Im
agine that you aiitf I are sailing in avenli
on the boutb sea.,? How l,eauiifu"y we
glide along! The vessel f kirns the ocean
hkeaewan. But what is that yonder,
rising above tho billows, like a "painted
highland? . Now it sparkles in the iays of
the sua like a foek ol silver, and now it as
sumes different colors. .variegated in. the
most charming manner. Rod, golden,
silvery hues, all blend together in delight
ful richness. Nearer and nearer we come
to tlie attractive object,' ali the while ap
pearing more beauiiful and brilliant; when
io, we discover it i.s the splendid work of
insects so small that wo cannot ee them
with the naked eye. Yes, the little coral
instet threw up those many colored reefo,
a littlo at a lime, until wc have this mag
nificent sight.
And just over there, beyond that line of
reefs, you see that little, inland cotercd
wiih tall palm trees ko green nnd slender.
The foundation of that Uhmd, ijw a tit
habitation for men, was laid by the tame
li'tle coral insect.
Myriads of them worked away, year af
ter year, until a huge bed of coral became
tho foundation of the island; then the soil
accumulated, seeds were dropped, and the
trees grew as they nie row seen.
This is what some insects do towards
making this world a habita ion for man
kind. They make Islands. God did not
ct rate them to bo useWs in this world,
where there is so much to be done. Their
work amounts to something.
Would you not be as useful as the little
coral insect? You cannot build i.-.laud,
but you can help tho people who live upon
them, and those who live in other parts of
the earth, A cent is a small gift, bui one
hundred of them make a dollar. A grain
of sand is very minute, buteuoiigh of them
will make a mountain.
So the littlo which one child can do may
seem too small to be counted, but perhaps
twenty of these littles are equal to the
work of a full grown man or woman. Try
then to be useful.
Everybody can do something. If the
coral insect works so hard for others, ought
you to be idle?
riysttiilcs on Every Side.
The world is full of mysteries. The
chamber in which tho infant opens its eves
is a universe of mysteries. The father's
voice, ihe mother's smile, reveal to it slow
ly the mysterious world of the affections.
The child solves many if the mysteries;
but as the circle of knowledge is enlarged,
its vision is bounded by a veil of mystery.
The sun that awakens it at morning, and
again at night looks in at its window to bid
it farewell, the tree that shades its home,
and in whose branches the biids come and
sing before the dews nrediy, the clcuds
with shining, edges that move across the
sky, calm and stately like the chariot of an
angel, nil are mysteries. Nay, to grown
up man there is not a thing which the
hand touches or on which the eye rests,
which is not enveloped iu mysteiy. The
flower that springs at your feet who has
revealed the wonderful secret of its organ
ization? 1 Its roots shoot down, and leaf
and flower rise upnnd expand into tho in
finite abyss of mystery. Wo are like em
igrants traveling through an unknown wil
derness; they stop at night by a flowing
stream; they feed their horses, sot up their
tnt, nnd build a tire; and ns the flames rise
up, all within the circlo of n few rods is
distinct nnd clear in its light. But beyond
and bounding this, are rocks dimly seen,
and trees with vague outline stoop for
ward to the hhize; and beyond the branch
es creak, and the waters murmur over
their beds; and wild unknown animal howl
in the dark realms of night nnd silence.
Such is the light of man's knowledge, and
so it is bounded by the infinite realms of
Singular Flicuouicuou.
We havo never seen in print a notice o
the following 6trange fact, although every
steamboat man acquainted with Green riv
er navigation, can verify its truth Just
above the locks, when tile river is in a cer
tain stage, very low,' for several miles
steamboats shut down their furnace doors
and allow no torch to be lighted, for fear
of what the deck hands call "setting the
river on fire!" Frequently boats using
torches or keeping their furnace doors open
at this particular place, have found them
selves engulphed in blue flames, greatly
to the alarm of the passengers, and in sev
eral instances setting the steamers on fire.
In somo instances the passengers have on
ly been prevented by the strenuous exer
tions of the officers from leaping overboard
in their alarm. The cause ofibe singular
phenomenon is simply this:
The bottom of the river becomes cover
ed with forest leaves arid rubbish to the'
depth ofsomo inches, probably several feet.
Boats in low water run through this bed of
vegetable mittcr, thoir wheels stirring it
up thoroughly. An inflammable gas is
thus permitted to escape, which, on com
munication with a flame, at once takes fire
and burns with a blue blaze. At such 'time
j 4,10 boat s topped and the flame ceases.
When out, the boat goes on again, taking
the precaution mentioned above. Unless
allowed to continue some little time, this
burning gas is not apt to communicate its
flame to the ' wood but, it is quite suffi
cient to seriously alarm those not acquaint
ed with.ifa cause. EvansviZe jf.ru.
. . Love iu Small Thing.
, As I walked, on a bright ipring day, a
long onfl cf the avenue of the Green Park,
in London, aJmiring t! v bright gruvel
Walk; the verdant 'foliage, the silver
barked stems and elegant branches of the
birch-trees, and observed the company, I
saw two very JittlirgirU one', indeed, iris
bnt bribe- neatly and genteelly dressed
in li:jht blue p!aid frocks, rr.oving'on be
fore me, jumping and laughing in the very
joy of their hoarts. By accident the Ie?."er
of the two fell, when the other, a mite ofa
creature, assuming all the protective kind
nessofa mamma, lifted up her fallen sister,
wiped away tenderly the bits of Kravpl
which stnek to her tinny linnds, and kissed
her and comforted her . till her face was lit
tip with a smile. ' ' . '
I do like to fc instances of love in small
things; for they are the germs and the bud
of what shnl! blossom and bring forth the
fruit of kindly deds in after years. . Go
on my little madens, not only along the
gravel-walks of tho Green Park, but thro'
the thorny p iths of Tit, r!.-o, with your
hinds' and your hearts united. An 1 may
He who said,' "SuOfer little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not, for
such is the kingdom of heavrti," be ever
more your guide, your guard.aud comfort
er. Trwt .Ifnyazine.
. JcMk upon Scripiiiro.
.! his very common with some perrons, to
rai.re a laugh by means of some ludicrous
s:or'y connected with a text of Scripture.
Sometimes it is a play upon the words, or a
pun; at other limej a blunder; and not sel
dom a down-right impiety. .Whatever be
its form, even when lightest, it is no light
offence, leading as it does to profane con
tempt ol God's word. Those who prac
tice this have never been celebrated for
genuine wit. The laughter which they
call forth is provoked solely by the unex
pected contract between the solemn words
of Scripture and some droll idea. There
is no teal wit in the case; and the dullest
persons in society are most remarkable for
those attempts.
Tho evils arising from this practice are
greater man appear at nrst. it leads; in
general, to irreverence for Scripture. No
man would jest with the dying words of
Ins lather or Ins mother; Vet the words of
God are quite as solemn, i When we have
heard a comic or vulgnr tnleconnected with
a text of Scripture, such is the power of
association, that we never beard the text
afterwards without thinking of tho jest.
Ihe effect of this is obvious. He who is
much engaged with this kind of false wit
will come at length to hare a large portion
o, Holy Scripture spotted over Ly his un
lucky fancy.
Pehpcval IEcor.Anox. In a short time
of universal famine, how many, jewels
would you givo for a single loaf of bread?
in a raging fever,- how many' diamonds
would yousacri!iceor a moment's ease?
in a parched desert, how many embroider
ed robes would you exchange for a cool
draught? That these gaudy trifles should
be valued at so high a rate, is certainly a
disperngement to the understanding of
mankind, and is a cad demonstration of
the mcannoys into which we have sunk by
the fall. Compare thorn with the sublime
and stupendous, and the lovely objects that
every where meet your eye in the creation
aiound you. Can your richest purple ex
cel the violet, or your purest white eclipse
the lily of the'Tafley? Can your bright
est gems outshine tho glory" of the "sun?
Why then should enormous sums be ex
pended on baubles and sparkling dust?
Compare them will? your books, your Bi
ble, your souls all neglected for their
sake! -Arise at once to correct you senti
ments nnd noble aims; make the Bible
your looking-glass, the grace of the Spirit
your jewels if yu must shine, shine
hero; here you may shine with advantage
in .the estimation of the wise arid good in
view of tho approbation of the holy angels
and tho eternal God; shine in death when
the lustre of the line gold has become dim,
and the ray of the diamond extinguished;
shine in the celestial hemisphere with
saints and seraphs, amid the splendor of
the Eternnl. "
Newspapers. Jude Longstreet, whose
views on all subjects are. sensible, practi
cal, and worth treasuring up, thns sets
forth the value ofa paper: .. ; t
"Small is the sum that is required to
patronize a newspaper, and most amply
remunerated is the patron.. I care not
how humble and unpretending the - Ga
zette which he lakes, it is next to impos
sible to fill a sheet fifty-two times ia a year,
without putting into it something that is
worth the subscription price. rEvery pa
rent whose son is 'off from biru at school
should bo supplied with a paper. I well
remember what a difference there was be
tween those of my school-mates who had
no aiicess to newspapers..-. Other things
being equal, the first were always decided
ly superior to the last in debate and com
position at last; The reason is plain; they
had command of more facts. Youth will
peruse-a 'newspaper with delight when
they will read nothing else." ,
13.The warm hearted and , benevolent
man finds nil nature smiling around him,
or, if he chances to meet .misery and suf
fering, the sympathy ho extends to it re
acts with pleasant influence on his own
mind and proves a sufficient reward; but
the. morose and 8urely, or ', supercilious
mind, wonders in the fairest Bcenes n in
a desert sees only to be dissatisfied, hears
to be displeased. '
Beautiful Extract. 1
The following beautiful tribute to Wo
man;, was written several years go.. by a
contributor, I believe, o"tktf Saturday
uji. ii urrun iii it tine oi loucninir in-
terest, enikled "Thtf Biokeri Heart.'.. .Its
author, Dr. F. J. Straiten. . now. of at
leaat several Thi3 since." a resident cf
Preble county, id this State, contributed
in years past, 'many beaotifnl things to
American Literature.over the hondcDlumt
of Ras.ilas.
'Ohl'the priceless value of the lore of
truo woman! Gold cannot purchase a
gem so precious! Titles and honors con
fer npon th heart no such serene , happi
ness. Iu our darkest moments, wben dis
appointment aud ingratitude with corrod
ing care, gather thick around and even the
gaunt poverty menaces with his skeleton
tnger.it sfieam around the soul with an
angel's smile." Time cannot mar its bril
liancy, distance hut strengthens its inflrt-
ence, bolts and bars cannot limit ii prog
ress it loiiows the prisoner into bis dark
cell and sweetens the home mortal that ap
peases his hunger, and in tho silence of
midnight, it plnvs around his heart, and in
his dreams he fold to his bosom the form
of her who loves on still, though the world
has turned Coldly from him. The couch
made by the hand ofa loved one, is soft to
the weary limbs of the sick sufferer, and
the potion a Jministered by the same hand,
losc3 half its bitterness. The pillow care
fully adjusted by her, brings repose to lha
fevered brain, and her words of, kind en
couragement, revives the sinking Fpirit.
It would almost seem that God, compas
iouing woman's first great frailty, had
planted this jewel in her breast, whose
litavon like influence shonld cast into for
getfiilneas man's rom-'mbranne of the Fall,
by buil Jing up in his heart another Eden,
where perennial flowers forever bloom, and
crystal waters gush from exhausfless foun
tains. " ' . . , :
Ts Paatkrss op Horsks. The past
em joiui should be largo, and the distance
from them to the foot short; the elastio
pastern is not at all adapted to the violent
shocks it sustains in. leaping. I once
knew a steeple chase horse particularly
long in this respect;. I saw hitn on train
ing, and in taking a gidlop across the
country, and examined some of his foot
marks at the jumps he had taken, and wa
rather surprised to see the impression of
the four pastern joints deeply imbedded in
the ground. .1 was unable to watch the
effect produced on this horse, as he almost
at the commencement i.f his career per
manently injured himself in jumping
wall; but what.convinced me on the su
periority of the short pastern wa. that the;
horse that trained with him, nhhongh go
ing over the same jumps, and on the same
day, left, no pastern mark. I need not
say he was particnlarly short in the past
erns; they s'ood an iinmojisity of work,
and Were sound to ihe last. I never knew
a single instance of long elastic pasterns
standing much work. Cor. BtU't Lift
in London. . ;
An IsiKinTAXT Historical DiscovrRr.-
Some two or throo weeks since wo an
nonnecd through our colutnns, the prepar
ation ofa history of Massachusetts by Rev,
Mr. uarry, ot uanover, which is now in
the hands of the printer. We were inform
ed confidentially Bt that time, that ' Mr.
Barry bod made the discovery of some .val
uable manuscripts relating to the early his
tory of the state, and are now happy 'o bo
.ibla to add that yesterday afternoon, at ther
annual meeting of the Massachusetts His
torical Society, an official announcement
was made of Mr. Barry's discovery. This
discovery is no less than the long lost .man
uscript history of the Plymouth Colony,
written by flurcrnor Bradford, which was
in 'the hands-of Prince, when he prepared
his New England Chronology, and of
Hutchinson, when he wrote hi History of
Massachusetts. This document is in Eng
land, and a copy of the same is soon CX'
pected in this country' for publication.
Boston Jourmd, April 3ih. , T
. Home-Badi! Chloride of LIm.
Professor Nash say 3, take one barrel of
lime, and one bushel . of salt; dissolve the
salt in as littlo water as will dissolve the
whole; slack tho lime with the water, put-'
ling'on more water .than will dry-slack it,
so much that it w ill . form a very thick
paste;' this will not take nil the water; put
on, therefore, a little of the remainder ai
ly, until the lime has , taken the whole.
The result will be asort of impure chloride
of lime; but a very powerful deodorizer,
equally good for all out-door purposes,
with the article bought under that name
at the apothecary's, and costing sot one'
twentieth part ns much. .This should be
kept under a shed, or some out building.
It should be kept moist, ami h may be ap
plied wherever offensive odors are gener
sted, with the nssurance that it will be ef
fective to purify the air, and will add to the
vtluo of the manure,', much more tfian it
costs; It would be well for every farmer
to prepare a quantity of tbrrand : have it
always on hand,'. ;, : 1 . ';: !.Vi
Baked HAB.--Most persons boil hami
They are much belter baked, if baked
right., Soakit for an hour in clean water,
and wipe it dry; next spread it all over
with thin batter; and then put it in a . deep
dish, with stick under it to keep it out of
the gravy. When hVis fully done, take off
the skin and matter crusted npon the flesh
ctrla nnrt dot it ffl Artfl- ' . Tftlt . WlH
find it verv deliciousbut too rich fordya-
peptieff.. . .' .

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