{ title: 'Herkimer County Democrat. (Frankfort, N.Y.) 1843-1854, May 25, 1853, Page 1, Image 1', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031097/1853-05-25/ed-1/seq-1/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031097/1853-05-25/ed-1/seq-1.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031097/1853-05-25/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn83031097/1853-05-25/ed-1/seq-1/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
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Herkimer (CoEixt^ A Y E A E , YOt^UMI!. I I fS issvum t^ C a t t i u g B e m d c c a t* PtTBI.TSKED BVBET t^^W E S C ATr MOEI^mQ At Herkimer, Herk. Co,, 3Hf; Y. BOBERT EARL^ ^ ' Cr. G. ATITHERSTINEJ Bstot^xAroiis. “ I /ib e r t y , F m t e r f iity , a n d lERIlMR, ¥EMESDAT jSfOEI« IfAT 2S, 1808. TERSIS.—The Democrat? w ill h e left at the residence o f village subscribers at $2,0 Cl a year. Mail subscribers, $2,00 per year, or $1 5fr, in advance. Spates of AdtrextisitiS* One square 6 months, ....................... 5 One square one year, ............... .. 8 0 5 ^A liberal deduction w ill he made to those who advertise BOOK ANB. JOB PSlSTrUG Tn all i t s branches, executed with neatness and dispatch, and on reasonable terms. Mr. 7 . Bi, FARMER is our authorized ■ Agent in- the cities? o f New York, Philadelphia and Boston. All contracts made by Mr. P. w ill be duly recognized by ua SELECT POETRY. THE STEEASI BE TIME. JOHN SWAIK. It is a silent stream *, Calm as a quiet sleep j To a-strange repose, The still stream flows, Where the mourners cease to weep. It is a -wide spread stream. And every valley fills;— It Covers the plains. And the high domains O f the everlasting hills. It is a ceaseless stream; For ever flowing fast ] Like a solemn tide !an wide O f the far, unfathomed path . It is a tn ighty^strear^ Resistless 'ift i t s stray; The loftiest things. The strongest kings. It carries with ease away. Leward the care Of the searcher there; And its sands are sands of gold. Through silent realms of night; Through every glorious clime; By night and day On its wide spread way. Past flows the stream o f time. MISCELLOY, From the Dnited States Review,- REGEPTION o r MBS. BEECHES STOWE IN LONDON. We have received the following graphic description of this ceremony from an eye-witness, whose authority may be implicitly relied, on, and who assures us that nothing like it has ever been seen in England, or will probably ever be seen again, unless, the King of the Musquitos should accept the invi tation of the ladies of Stafford House to pay them a visit. Mrs. Beecher Stowe, who had, in compliment to the sympathies of the ladies of Stafford Hod^e, painted her face black, and put on a pair of hlack kid gloves, descended from the L ivetr poo! ears, a few miles from London, where she was most enthusiastically received by the ladies of Stafford House, who saluted her with a most affection-^ ats welcome, kissing her on both cheeks, whereby they got their lips a little soiled with lan^-hlack,. which, however, was rather a fortunate oir^ cmnstance, a,a the sympatliiea of all present were decidedly ia faYoc of that colon This ceremony being over, Mrs, Beecher Stowe was plaoed in a superb carriage, drawn by thirty-six horses, having the cellbrated Frederick Daug-^ las cm her right, and the Right Hon. the Earl of Carlisle on her left, painted and dressed Up to represent Uncle Tom, and carryingJo bis hand a superb copy of Uncle Torn-’s Caban, edited by him* self. Mrs. Beecher Stowe was delight ed with his lordship’s personiSeation of Uncle Tom, and declared she could al most swear it waa Uncle Tom. himself, though she had never seen him. Mrs. Beecher Stowe, however, looked rather askew at Mr. Frederick Douglas, and showed g. decided preference for Uncle Tom,, which the ladies of Stafford House took notice of, and made amends to Mr. Frederick Dougl^ip for the neg lect of Mrs. Beecher Stowe, by re doubling their attentions to Mr. Fred erick Douglas. The Hon Gerrit Smith, M. 0., was said to be among the crovvd; but, being a white man, escaped notice, and was cut by Mr?. Beecher Stowe, who, h| fact, seemed entirely occupied by the Right Hon. editor. Uncle Tom. Preliminary arrangemenls^ beiP\* jnafle, which took up Some time, tl procestion |>roceeded towards ttondon following order: Mrs, Beecher Stowejs superb car riage, which it is whi^ered was fur nished from a very high quarter, drawn by tbiFty-mx horses, followed by the la^es .of Stafford House, their facee covered with black crape, ai^ their hqr^es crowned wffh black nodding emblonia,tic of mourniug for the WJ?ongs- o f Africa. Rach lady car- ried copy of Unde Tom’pc Cabin, bound in calf, and superbly gilt, edited of Garhsle, uSa# tlncio Toip, ip hopor of Airs. Ecechef in tho rear o f the pro cession 0i carriages in honor o f Mrs. Bflflcbor Stowe, author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin,, edited fay the Right HonJ the. Earl of Carlisle in honor of' Mrs. Beech er Stowe, came a deputation from the colliers, who, being covered, with coal dUsl, it was supposed. would be apt representatives of the A nierican slaves. They were attended by their overseers, who personated the “ atrabilious ty rants and two legged wolves of our Southern States,” and were each arm ed with a cat- 0 ’-nine-tails, with which they belabored the poor colliers, es pecially the little children, till they roared lustily, to the infinite delight o f Mrs. Beecher Stowe and the noble la dies of Stafford House, who cried “ En core—let them roar once more,” And took out their white handkerchiefs on the occasion. As this was the first time they had ever seen daylight, tbe poor colliers found great difficulty in keeping in the line of the procession in honor of Mrs. Beecher Stowe, until by the boun ty of the noble ladies of Stafford House, they were each furnished witUa pbir’ of green spectacles. Next came a deputation of several hundred of the seamstresses of London, who, we are told by the London Times, the London Morning Chronicle, and other staunch advocates of the entire human race, are reduced to resort to street prostitution, to keep themselves from starving on the wages allowed them by those employed by the noble ladies of Stafford House, in making their chemises. These poor victims of British philanthropy looked very thin, pale, and emaciated, and some half a dozen actually fainted by the way, from weakness occasioned by hard work and ha*d Jiving. But Ihe nobJh ladies of Stafford House turned away with horror and disgust from^ these naughty'creatures; and Mrs. Beecher Stowe was very much affronted a t be ing brought into such bad company.— Some of the spectators, vast crowds of whom were gathered around, murmur ed their sympathy for these poor girls, pon the Right Hon. the Earl of }, editor of Uncle Tom’s G^bin, read some passages from that'worfei-^o., show how much better off they were than the African slaves in the United States, and they all cried out—“ Liber ty and Old England forever.” In the rear of these unforfunute spinsters, knitters, Und seamstresses, came a large body selected from the hundred thousand freeborn Englishmen, who, the London Time?, the London Morning Chronicle,, j^nd other sympa thisers with the wrongs of Africa, tell us, rise in the morning every dky of their lives, without knowing where they nre to get a morsel of bread.— They looked very wretched, ragged, and d u ty; and Mr. Frederick Douglas could not help observing to Mrs. Beech er Stowe, ” that he never had seen any slaves in the States in such a misera ble condition.” “ Lord,” said Mrs. Beecher Stowe, “ who cares for their misery? Don’t you see they are white people ?” These representatives of the hundred thousand freeborn Englishmen begged of the noble ladies of Stafford 1 Mrs. Beecher Stowe and the ladies of House some small pittance to relieve Stafford House separated from the dep- their hunger, but were soon silenced by i uties of the other classes of freeborn those great conservatives of English ; Englishmen, and proceeded to Stafford freedom, the policemen, who fold them | House, where- a splendid entertainment tlienobleadies came thereto honor Mrs.' w^as provided in honor of Airs* Beecher Beecher- Stowe—not to bestow their ' Stowe, Afr, Frederick Douglas, and the charity on them. As the procession Right Hon. Uncle Tom. The cither proceeded on slowly, we noticed every members of the procession in honor of now\ and then, some one or other of i Mrs. Beecher Stowe, &c., proceeded to those Wndred thousand freeborn Eng -1 the Crystal Palace, where they partook lishmen suddenly Jeave. the ranks, to . of a sumptuous regale of cowheej and sqatch an old cabbage leaf or potato sheep’s trotters,.^ Poor Gerrit Smith, paring, which they devoured with the M. C,, was permitted to dine all alone greatest avidity. Whereupon Mrs. At Dolly’s Chop House, and poor Mr. Beecher’ Stowe turned quite sick at the Tappan received a dead cut from Airs, stomach, and thought tp herself hoW Beecher Stowe andMr. Frederick Doug- much more enlightened and Worthy o f las. And thus ended this triumphal sympathy wer^ the cannibals of Africa, entry of Airs. Beecher Stowe, into the But Upcle Tom, alias the Right Hon. great metropolis of the world- the Earl of Carlisle, being used to these' We understand Mrs. Reecher Rtowe things, took no notice of thern, and has received pressing invitations from amused himself with looking over the nH tb® crowned heads of Europe, to- preface to Unde Tom’s Cabhi. gether with his Holiness the Pope, to The next in order was a deputation P^y them a- visit, and bring Mr, Fred- from the vvomen and ehildrea of the ©rick Douglas and the RLbt Hop. Un- manufacturing operatives, who had put cle Tom with her. But they say noth- on their best, for the honor of Airs, ing^ of poor Gerrit Sraith*aud Air. Tap- Beecher Stowe, but who, somehow or pnn. The Emperor of France^it is ru- Qther, looked like vegetables that had mored, will get up an. emute, or conspi, grown up in cellars and root-houses, racy, and shoot qown a few huqdredi without the vivifying influence of the red republicans in honor of Airs. Bqech- suuandair. Their complexions were a er Stowe. The Emperor of Austria sort of mixture of blue and green— ; h^'S intimated his intention of gettifig their eyes sunk in their heads—their up a splendid spectade called the “ 'Pali they had been driven by having, their hovds burnt over their heads, so as to. expel therh from their homes, like rats and vermin. A stranger who stood by us contem plating this splendid demonstration in honor of Mrs. Beecher Stowe, On see ing these poor disinherited children of a fertile soil and genial air, thus plung ed into ignorance and barbarity, and driven to distant climbs, in search of that they could not find at home, said to us with bitter emphasis, “ I have been among the slaves in the United States, I have visited every country of Europe—X have seen the miserable bar barians of Patagonia, the negroes of Africa, the mongrel race of the Mus quitos, apd the root-diggers of the des ert of the great Salt Lake,‘ but never did I behold a race of men reduced so low as in that country which is thus pretending to redress the Wrongs of those very slaves, who at this moment are as much above the condition of those who are now passing before u.s, as the well-fed, well-lodged laborer in the U^ States is above the houseless, starving beings, that flit along like spectres on their way tp the land of souls, clothed in their worn out winding sheet?,— Look/’ continued he “ look at that woman who pretends to sympathise so deeply in the sufferings of African slaves—look at her, the very personifi cation of inflated! vanity, who thinks these honors are paid to her superior talent, little dreaming that she is only the Punch of this puppet show got up by Lord Palmerston, and the Right Horn representative of Uncle Tom, for purposes too deep for her shallow ca pacity to fathom.” The procession in honor of Airs, Beecher Stowe was closed by a numer ous deputation from one-sixth of the freeborn Englishmen, whn ace either out-door paupers or denizens of poor houses, bearing a banner, with tfie de vice of three dried rat? and an onion. Though among the most miserable specimens o f humanity we had ever .seen, they seemed in high spirits* hav ing learned rrom<Unoia^Tom’s Cabin, ♦ the statements of which were voucheaT^fa^Ker for by the Right Hon. the Earl o f Car lisle, editor, who .was once a great lion in the United States, as well as from the Manchester Guardian and other newspapers, that they were so much better off than the slaves of America. They, however, looked like a pretty particular selection of vagrants ; and Air. Frederick Douglas whispered to Airs. Beecher Stowe, that even the free gentlemen of color in the United States , would take the shine off them. !l^t Mrs. Beecher Stowe paid no attention to Air. Frederick Douglas, being entire ly pre-occupied by the Right Hon. the Eari of Cairlisle, editor of Utfeie Tom’s Cabin, and a lineal descendant of “ Bel ted Will,” the renowned moss-troop er, immortalised in the Lay of the Scottish Fiddle—we mean tbe lay of the Last Alinstrel. Qn arriving at Hyde Park corner, From Arthur^s Home Gazette. FEIENFL'S' WdahR BY MAY LINDWOOD. Reader—tbpu smd I arp aleap^a, In the harvest field of Time j Day by day tbcgrraifl is ripefiing. For a pnnmer dime. ■ Whethei Or as weary h ’Alid the noon-day beat,r’^ Let us strive with cheerful spirit. Each onr duty to fulfill * Till the time of harvest—'juhject To the master’s w ill. -Let uS garner up sweet memories. Bound with ties of love; Pleasant thoughts to cheer the pathway, To our homes above. Trusting that these predous gleanings, Bound with loving hand. May in golden sheaves b e gathered To the spirit-land. LETTER OF MSfl. WELLINGTOR TO HER SON. The following letter, which we copy from the Hudson Daily Star, was writ ten by Airs. Wellington to her son, C. C. Wellington, while in daily antic ipation of her own death* It is a beau tiful and touching epistle, and is, as has been truly said a “ perfect gem.” The following is the mother’s letter r M y D ea r B oy — Feeling sensible that I must soon leave you, I wish to say a few words, to which I entreat you to give your attentioif as^^ the last words, the last wi?bes o f yo u r dying mother—a mother who would be glad to live and suffer for your sake, if, it was the will o f God that she shouldv— In the first place, my d.ear Charles, love and serve- God; make a friend Of! Him, and-He will be better to you than all earthly friends. Never forget to pray to Him ; remember that from the time you^Kvas a very little ongtjand could scarcely speak, you have knelt beside your mother and offered up your prayers to Sim. You have also read His holy word with her; do not forsake this practice now she is gone t -i omit it for a single night or morn ing; tMnk is looking pleased at you | f youdo this, and looking grieved if you neglect it; above all, think how displeasing it is to our Heavenly Father to bo neglected by us, his creatures. He, has made and protects every hour £.nd momnnt o f oUf Jives. But remember mv dear child, that just to kneel before God and say yout pfayer? is not praying. You must feel what you say; you must re member that God is looking into your heart—remember that jp[e loves chil dren that try to ’ do good,: and that He will help them to do so if they ask him . endeavor to stature deformed and diminutive; and. while the woman looked as if they had never been young, the children looked as if tirey bad always been old. A dead and se/iseJess apathy, or rather it might be said, an expression a f utter hopelessness, conpled with an equal care lessness of the future, arising from that hopelessness, gave to their faces; a more painful expression than any we bad ever seen before; and we thought them even more whrthy of emancipation than the twenty or thirty thousand poor seamstresses, or the hundred thousand half starved freeborn Englishmen of Landon. .We noticed, however^ that Airs. Sto.wc pointed out to the Right Hon. .theilarlof Carlisle, editor of Uncle Toln’S Cabin, one o f these poor women, who was a little humped back, leading a crippled child in each band, and they bad a hearty laugh together at the lu dicrous trio, which we think, was. very ungracious, seeing they cameto do hon- freedom came a hand o f representatives from the sister kingdom of frelapd, fu gitives from their native land, whence of Hungary,” in honor of Mrs. Beech? er Stowe. The Emperor of Russia is prepared to outdo even John Ruli, by a, procession of serfs, three hundred miles long, all eating raw turnips and cabba ges. - The great Padisha of Turkey in tends, it is said, to use every effort to Induce Mrs. Beecher Stowe to become the favorite sultana, understanding she has no particular attachment to the Alosaic law. And Ms Holiness the Pope intimates a (|ps%n to makp her a cardinal. Who knows bu$ Mrs. Beech er Stowe may one day becqm^ a Second Pope Joan ? Therefore, every night think what you have done, or said, or thought, wrong, and beg Him for the sake of your dear Saviour, to forgive you, and help you to do better for the future. Every morningthank Him for taking care of you through the night; thank him for all your blessings; beg Him to keep you from sjirning against Him through the day. and then all day long endeavor to remeiiber that His eye is upon you, that He will be grieved if you do wrong—that He wants to save you and make you happy. If bad boys tempt you to do wrong,remember that His holy word has said, “ My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.” Next to God, love and obey your father, my dear boy; he has always been good to your mother. Strive to be a com* fqrt to hicq, do everything to oblige him that, you can, and if you live till he needs your help, do all for him that you can. Remember that it is well pleasing to your Father in Heaven for you to Jove and honor your earthly pa rents. Be obliging and kind to all, en deavor to make every one lore you, obey your teacher, try to improve in your studies that you may grow up ap intelligent, useful man; he. good to dumb animals; do not tyranize over any living thing; try to deny yourself -T-that is, my dear Charles, try-to qbligf others even if it puts you to in convenience on ypur own account.— \When you think'of* .the poor heathen children that know not God, and think how much better you are off, strive to save something for them. -When yon ' to spend u3on “ leed, determini it, but save it to do good is self-denial. When you see a poor creature hungry, and you go without a part of your frbii tP give it to hiM. tha^ is seif-denial. When yonare tamP* ted to do, a wrong action and' 4o not do it, this is resisting |emi^|ation—thie is well pleasing to God.nvhq will always help you to resist it if yOli. asfc him. I JOY will b^ms^uL I Rope yoq will liy^ for a gj^od”i»urpose« 1 shall w;rite much more If I am^hle. I want to write what 1 hope might profit you as you. g row o lderbut if I can write no more endeavor to pro.fit'by.wbat^ I have IQt/tpiat ....ansa i pf every i^ea and feeHug. that Bprfppt cornmunRy of the heart’s ?ecr^t$ apd the mind’a thought^, Whl# fwo beings together more Jnorp dearly than thp dearest * more thgp the row Pf hf thP qath of the^alMr. It is confidence: ■ J oy m P E w&S T h e oabse op i t . It is now more than forty years ago that Mr. L. called at the house of D r ..— — , one very cold morning on hi& way to H. “ Sir,” said the doctor, “ the weather is very frosty—will you not take something to drink before you start?*’ In that early day, ardent spirits were deemed indispensable to v/armth* in the winter. When commencing a journey, and at every stopping place along the road, the traveler always used intoxi cating drinks to keep him warm. “ No,” said Air. L„ “ I never now touch anything of the kind, and I will tell the reason —^ my wife is the cause of it,’ I had been in the habit of meet ing some of our neighbors every evening, for th e purpose o f playing cards. We assembled at each other’s shop, and liquors were introduced.— After a while, we met not so much for playing as for drinking, and I used to return home late in the evening more or less intoxicated. My wife always met me at the door affectionately i and when I chid her for sitting up so late for me, she kindly replied: “ I prefer doing so, for I cannot sleep when you are out.” “ This always troubled me, I wish ed in my heart that she would begin to scold me, for then I could have retort ed, and relieved my conscience. But she always met me with the same gen tle and loving spirit. \Things passed on thus for some time* when I at once resolved that I would, by remaining very late, and re turning much intoxicated, provoke her displeasure so much as to cause her to lecture me, when I meant to answer her with severity, and tbu?u by creating another issue between us, unburden my bosom of its pent-up troubles. “ I returned in sUoh a plight about 4 o’clock in the morning. She met me at the iJdor, with her usUal tenderness, Und said: “ Come in, husband, I have just been making a warm fire for you, because I knew you would cold. Take off your b o o ts and warm your feet, and here is a cup of hot coffee.” “ Doctor, that was too much. I could not endure it any longer, and I resolved, from that moment, that I would never touch another drop while I lived, and I never will.” 3I?^***Ruins,’’'writes a traveling cor respondent of the Alorniag Post, “ are the great frature of Ireland—ruins of all kinds—ruins old and ruins new— ruins of lordly castles—ruins of vener able churches—ruins of wealthy mon asteries and noble abbeys—ruins of lowly cottages—^ruina of time, of pow er, of wealth, long matters of history, and ruins of times of rashness, extrava gance and p o v e r ty —-of undertakings commenced improvidently, and thrown aside despondingly, without completion. All is ruiq wherever you g o ; from the crumbling walls and faintly character ed tombs that tell of greatness and ab sorb and delight the antiquary, to un roofed cottages that tell of present mis ery, death and emigration; that shock the mdq of feejing and set the political economist to theorizing.” 01?* How many young men start in life with.absent hopes and foolish ex pectations—expectations that they nev er realize and hopes as forlorn as Mad Antony Wayne’s. Flattered it may be, by a coterie of admirers, they are led to believe they have so much talent that industry is unnecessary. Affect* ing idiosyncrasis they do not possess, they hope to palm off the vagaries as original and talented. If they imagine they possess poetical powers the first intimation the public have of it is the extravagant pretentions of a Byronio shirt coliar., Genius is supposed to he egneentfated in bad gin; and, on the principal of the syphon, they hope by pouripg that down one tub, to raise po etical inspiration in another. After aH/ perseverance is the philosopher’s stqne which achieves success in life.— By this, the difficulties are surmounted, and. Though they rise. Like A1P3 on Alps, Until they touch the skie.s,” Yet the energetic person will sur- jqount' thejn. By overcoming one dif ficulty, strength is obtained* to over come another and thus success con tributes to success. Let all who will he anything, go tp work vigorously.- ing of God it may do yougood* Tnef e-' fore, my dear cMid, -if “mY life is aot spared to finish this, receive it as i t is '—receive it as the last farewell, jihe May God bless and protect ray moth erless fadji and enable him te become a oy, au( true Ohristian. Danger .q|qqld b?* w'hep distant, and braved wheu fresent, only allures you from the true path of fame into the slough of indolence.— Cultivate what fiature has given; and, if success is not obtained, it will at least be deserved. Great numbers of this class are to be found in this city. Young Striplings who laboring under the' deeeRful hallucination that they “ are gifted” will launch out into the seaofr excess, and although they may at the starting bp possessed o f f pme little talent Tfill stqer the bark intq the are in^e fiarksi—fragile #n<i ven^^ six'fe^t o f hemp as the best article tfiey could biiy for ifidney. 10*’ A man% rdresf ha^ U TVoiiderM; iBfineiigq ou fiis qhMacteir. fike a rowdy, and in less than n thoMh you will commence acting like one. YOUR CHANGE SIR- One of these nondescript specimens of humanity, called- dandies, travelling iu Connecticut a few days since; iii his own or a borrowed conveyance, was brought up with a “ round turn^’ at a toll gate which he designed to have passed without paying the usual fee.— When he found Mmseif in limbo, from which he could not escape without “ forking over,’* he inquired o f a young lady wha was in attendance at the gate how much be had to pay before he could pass the formidable barrier. “ Three cents, sir, for single wagons,” replied the young lady, “Three cents is a threepence, the half of a sixpence, one of the smallest bits of silver*in use, eh, young woman—am I right ?” said the dandy, feeling in his pocket for change. “ T h r e e cents, sir, if you p lease,” said the lady. “ Well young woman, as you seem to be highwayman here—so take my mon ey, and shovel out the change as quick as you can trot for it,” said the dandy at the same time purposely dropping a shilling piece in the mud beneath his wagon. *‘ Ah ! there it is in the mud, I declare—I wouldn’t dirty my fingers for twenty of them.” Tho young lady took the shilling from the mud where he had dropped it, went into the house, and returned with nine cents, which she placed immedi ately under the wheel, where she had taken up the shilling. “ Hillo, hillo, young woman, what is it you mean?” said the dandy. “ Why don’t you put that coin into my hand, eh?” The girl archly replied, “ Sir, I found your money under the wagon, there you find your change,” and as she turned into the house she gave the fellow a most significant smile,, aiid added, “ I WGuld’nt dirty my fingers for twenty of them, wduid you,- Mr. dandymasj, P ’ H-a, ha, ha,—there?s your change, sir,” and she closed the door. The GENTLEMAN dismounted—picked up his “ coppers,” and was off at full speed, impatieUt to get out of sight and hearing-. If he should ever happen in that country again, he will bo careful how he makes change with Yankee girls. THE BASSiON OF ENVY. Of aji the spies, human or animal. Envy is the most persevering, prying,- observant, and indefatigable in its ser pent-like attributes. When the great Frederick of Prussia put the question severally to each of his courtiers, req^uesting their opinion as to the best remedy to sharpen the eye-sight; some recommended fennel, some glasses, some one thing, and some another, till it came to Actias, who very gravely advised his sovereign to try Envy. Whatevei we do or say, is straight way snapped up by this lurking sinister meddler, distorted and disarranged by this eldest born of Alalibe, and then given to the crew of semi-demons ever lurking along the hedgerow o f vice, as a by-word and matter of ridicule. Whatever we do ill, is magnified by this imp of Hate, to absolute wicked ness, and even our fiest actions and motives are distorted to very hideous- ness of aspect. All our failings are watched and blazoned forth to the gap ing crowd, ever ready to grasp at a fault in a fellow being, and for that fault crucify him without mercy. Envy is the lowest, vilest, meanest o f all the passions that ever sWayed the human heart. And while Faith, Love, Hope, Justice and all their sister vir tues. combine to ennpble and elevate humanity ; and while Hate, Revenge, and blear-eyed Alalice, are but semi-ac tive qualities, dependent upon other circumstances foreignto their influence, for their i^ry existence. Envy is eVer on the alert, even iu action, playing the insidious spy. \ ^ Dependent upon no circumstahcesi indigenious to no clime or counfry, at leaps into instant being fulT-fledged like Mineryia from the brain of Olympus’ Thunderer, and the first act of the edness and laughs and makes it more wretched still. He that would avoid Envy in him self must possess hqnesty and indepen dence enofigh to despise it iq others.— Bqt he tfiat would avoid the danger of it in others, must keep well clear of their company. ______ A celebrated clergyman was Spendings'a Sunday at Greenport not long since, and, of course, preached a sermon. Returning from church, he passed a number of specimens of “ Young America,” amusjng themselves witfi a gam® of marbles, rather inti mately mixed with foney swearing. , ’ «»My boy,” #a|d'thjeReYs an |n- wfong chaupel, and befom they * are “m lively I “ Why the 4 —I don’t you ruU; DT/^ Yb^re 'is nothing purer than hbnesty-r^nothing sweeter than charity ^—-nothing brighter than virtue—noth ing Warmer than loye-^and nothing niore steadfast than faith. The^ unh t|d in'dns Mind, forms the purest, Uie 50 I N A D V A N C E . ' lUMBEE 88. A rthur S pr in g . —The following par agraph is from and Irish paper, the Kerry Evening Post, of April 16th : “J&nee the publication of our lash we have beard, on good authority, that the wretched culprit whose trial we copied from the Philadelphia papers, though calling himself Spring in Amer ica, was never known by that name in this country—^having been called Ar thur Crosbie, after his mother. Peg Crosbie, a woman of such notoriously bad character that her son’s claim Was never admitted by tEe gentleman after whom she choose to call him ; and con sequently, as before stated, he always went by her name. Besides him, this miserable woman had several other il legitimate ehildreii, all named after dif ferent fathers. Left to the sole-gui dance o f s u c h a m o ther, it is no vronder the unfortunate wretch should have been no better than he w a s .” — Tralee Chronicle. 0I?“ “ How do you manage yourhiis,- band Mrs. Croaker ? Such A job as I I have had of it with Smith !” “ Easiest thingin the world, my dear; give him a twitch backward when you want him to go forf ard. For instance; you see to-day I had a loaf of bread to make. Well, do you suppose because my body is in the pastry, room, that my sou! need be there too ? Not a bit of it. I am thinking of all sorts.of ce lestial things the While. Now, Croak er has a way of tagging i’ounil at my \heels and bring me plump dovrii-, in the Well, you- see it drive? me frantic ! and wherf I woke up Ibis morning and saw this furious storm, I Jkliew I had him on my hands for the day, unless I man? aged right; so I told him that I hoped he would’nfe think of going out to catch- his death such weather; that if he wan’t capable of taking care o f himself, that I should do it for him; that it was ve'ry lonesome rainy days, and that I wan ted him to stay at home and talk td m e ; at any rate he mus’nt go out, and I hid his umbrella and india rubbers.— Well, of course, he Was right nnd up, (just as I expected!) and in less than five, minutes was streaking off down street, at the rate o f ten knots an hour.” You see there’s nothing like human nature ; no woman should be married till she is thoroughly posted up iu this branch o f her education. FANNY FERN. SuETT’s J oke .— “ The candle’s yoii sold me last are very had,” said Suett, to a tallow-chandler. “ Indeed, sir, I am sorry for that.” Yes, sir, do yoq know they burnt to the middle, and would then hum no longer.’* You surprise nie; what sir, did they go out ?” ’ “No, sir, n o ; they burnt shorten'* (E?“ A country cletgyman was onq day riding along,, when he was observed by two lawyers- Riding up, one on each side, they asked him how it was that gentleman of his cloth made such \lad mistakes. “ I was present not long since,” says one, when a clergymSin, instead of saj^ ing Ogg, kmg of Bashan,” said, “ Hog king o f Bacon.” “ Oh,” said the old gentlepi^n, “ we are like all our fellow beings, subject to mistakes, t meant myself to say; not long' sincej that “ the Devil was the father of liars,” and said that he was the father of lawyers;^’ . ., “ Are you a fool or a findve ?’* said one of thenii “2 believe, gentlenien,” said be “ that I am hetweem both.” S chool MARMS.--‘Govenior Slade and sixteen pretty Yankee girls, fresh from the hills of New England, arrived in Cincinnati op Thursday last. The Gazette says “ they are to he distribu ted throughout the West, to fiecopae teachers of the infant mind in t|iqse benighted regions, and eventually to change from blushing; maidens, d8mu.re or frolicksome, as the case may be, to sober wives, faithful matrons and frqit-^ ful mamas. Health and Jong life to His Excellency the Governor, and, hia blooming bevy of “ probagaudists.’’ - E?* Ike,” said a ruskv old heatHeii o f tbe desk, “ how do you astrottdihers measure tfie distance to the sun - \ Why,” replied the young hopeful, they guessed at oneffourth t.he dis* tance and then multiplies by foij^. DI?* A man who shows any desire to do good is at ojice made a packhdrse; and those who cannot Use himj Will call him a hypocrite. The severest punishment o f hnV injury is the conscionsness of having done if; and no one but the guilty, knows the withering pain of repent* ' Lyman Beeehef, in a recent Bostonseripom said “ that preachers* ideas should stand o.ut like rabbits’ em*s so that the people could grab hold of them, and get something for thcfr pains.!’* 0>* Bhlwer divides thehuman famhl' into two classes-—those who are and those who are othcr-wisot
