Locomotive, Volume 32, Number 12, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 May 1855 — Page 1
JOHN R. ELDER, Editor.
VOL. XXXII j THE LOCVMOTIVK 3 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY ELDER & HARKNESS, At their Book and Job Printing Office, on Meridian Street Indianapolis, Ind., opposite the FostOfflce. , TERMS: One Dollara year. Twentv-rlve Cents Tor three months. Six copies to one address for one vcar, Five Dollars; thirteen copiesone year for Ten Dollars, irjm 1Dvtlci in all cases. QI Ku paper will be sent until 'paid for, and no paper will be continued aflerthcllme paid for expires, unless the subscription is renewed. Look ou r roa rut Cross All mall and county subscribers can know their time is ou t when they see a larjrorxoss marked on theirpaper.and that is always the lastpapcrscut untillhe Bs ascription is renewed . tikms or iDviiTinia: One Square, (81ines,orless, 250ms.) for 1 week... 0.5(1 " " for each subsequentiiisertion, O.Slo " " for three months, 3.00 ' forsix months, a. 00 " " for one your, without alteration, 8.00 4 ' for one year, with frequent, idianpros, 12.00 A small reduction made on larcor jidvuriLtuiiiiMiru. rni and Special Notices double the above rate. Advertisements must be handed in by Tkuritday of each ueekorthey willbedeferreduntittheneztissue. Printers Ink! WE have just received, direct from the Manufactory 0 John G. I.iirhtbody, a frenli supply of .Summer Ink, which will be sold In the following sized kegs, nnd at the fololwing prices: NEWS INK 25 Coats per ft : 12 ft,s and keir, tn $( 21 lt,s and ko(r, - 5.'75 oi fts and keir, - - - - - . . . 14.25 In hall' barrels, of 100 fcs, no charge for kejrs. NEWS INK NO. I 30 Certs per ft: 2in,andkce, - - - Sti.60 54 lbsand ke?, - - - 10.ft5 10(1 u,s, (no chargo for keir,) - - ,,- - 30.00 BOOK INK 40 Coirs per : 12 68 and kejr, - - - 85.30 21 lb and keg, - - - $8.90 FINE BOOK INK-50 Cents pir ft: 21 ftsandkeg, Jll.On FINE CARD INK: In 1 and 2 lb cans, at SI. 00 per fb. COLORED INKS : Red, Blue, and Green, in half pound cans, at $1.50 percan. All orders accompanied withtho cash, will bo nrnmntlv st. tendod to. Address, El.UKH & H A KKK KSS, ' Agents for Lightbody's Inks, Indianapolis, Ind. Stoves, Plows, Arc, Ac. J UST received a large and general assortment of Cooking and Parlor Stoves, which are unsurimssed bv anv in the market. Among our Cook Stoves may bo found Facillc, Triumph, Buckeye Slate. Bay State, Empire State, Hooaier State, Queen City, Prize Pritnium, Oiiio Premium, Oregon, California. Pheonix, and Cleveland Air Tight; also, a great variety of Parlor Stoves and Coal Grates; also, a general assortment of Steel Plows, kept constantly for sale, waranted of the best quality. Tin-Ware consiantly kept on hand, wholesale and retail. All kinds of Tin, Copper, and Shee tron work done to order. Those wanting anything in our lino, will do well to give us a call before purchasing elsewhere, at the sign of the Gilt Ball, south side of Washington Street, near the Masonic nail. ocll-y It. u. or A. W. JVIcOUAT GREAT WESTERS ttAKItl.F. YARD lf5SSS THE UDERS1GNE1) f yjfe i "".Hi this mutliod of i Inn. n. .f A-XA, a K lhe public to his large I srfiril t MARBLE. Marinr tt r-ijtast, where he has X ei t quarries and mills been to all the differ - r'..'iT . s '1. . '-' .e K moiit. anil linviiio. t,. tr in ew York and Ver4 7 vrrr ! 1 L'ctn.g his .Mi.rbl", ho does not hesitate in saving that he has now on hand the turgest and best assortment of en great pains in se--St J-f 1 1 " .u.HM''..-ii;i...i Marble ever brought West of the htale ol Vermont, and Is daily receiving now supplies. ', He most respectfully invites the public to call and examine his stock and work, as he Is prepared to furnish anything in the Monument. Tomb, and Head Stone line, that may be desired, on the most reasonable terms. He feels assured that he can give perfect satisfaction in the finishing of his work as he has in bis employ among the best of workmen from the most fashionable establishments in the eastern cities. Tnose who wish to perpetuate lhe memory of those who were near and dear to them, will And it to their interests to cull at No. 67 Washington street, opposite A. Wallace's store; before purchasing elsewhere. He would say to the trade, that thev can make it to their interest to call and examine his stock, as he is prepared to wholesale at prices that will be satisfactory. All orders sent by mail, or otherwise, from different portions of the State, for finished work, will receive prompt attention, and the work forwarded on at the earliest opportunity. Remember No. 67 Washington street, Indianapolis. Ind. ' nov4-6in JOHN DUSTMAN. NEAV ARRANGEMENT TO TAKE EFFECT ,,.'IO!,IAY July 24, 1854. fTr nrol i?IDJNP0LIS AJi U CINCINNATI KA1LKOAD, Connecting with the Ohio and MisaiasiimTIiuiP road, bv Snecinl Train. No detention on this route bv waiting for other trains! Through to Cincinnati in 4i hours. The only direct route to Cincinnati, being 30 miles shorter and H hours quicker than any other route. Lightning Express Train leaves Union Depot at 11 A. M., and arrives at Cincinnati at 31 P. M.. onlv stopping at Shelbyvine, Groensburgh and Lawrenceburirh; dine at Shelbyville. Chicago Mail Train leaves at 4 P. M., aftr the arrival of tho Chicago tram and arrives at Cincinnati at i P. M., supper at Greensburgh. 11 Fare to Cincinnati, $3 00 Baggage checked through. ' Through tickets can be procured at Union Depot, over this route to New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Columbus, O., and Wheeling, via the Little Miami Railroad. Passengers taking the 11 A.M. train, arrive in Cincinnati in tune to take the 5 P. M. trains for the East. JulJ29 T. A. MORRIS, Pres't. GREAT CENTRAL AND EASTERN ROUTE. INDIANA CENTRAL RAILWAY. 1855. 1855. NEW ARRANGEMENT. IVTew Route to Cincinnati and Dayton, Co11 lumbus, Cleveland, fittsburtrh , l'hilaAelphia and New York. On and afterThtiraday, August 17,1854, PassengerTrainswill run as follows, Sundays excepted: Two Trains daily, each way. Morning Express leave Indianapolis at 5.45, A. M. Passengers leaving in 5.45 A.M. train arrive in Cincinnati at 11.45 A.M., in Dayton at 10.40 A. M., in Columbus at 3.30 P.M., in Cleveland at 6.45 P. M. . Mail train leaves Indianapolis at 12 M. Passengersloaving L"J, tr"in arrive i11 Cincinnati at 6.30 P.M., in Dayton in 5.00 P. M. - : , Passengers for Columbus, Newark, and Zanesville.by taking d J ' tr"in arrive io Dayton at 5.00; in Columbus at 9.45 P. M., being six hours in advance of all other Routes. 1 assengers taking 12 M. train arrive in Cincinnati at 6.30 P.M. Passeneers leaving Indianapolis at 12 M. for Davton, Columbas, Crestline, Pittsburg, Philadelphia, and New York, arrive in Dayton at 5.00 P. M., in Columbus at 9.45 P.M., at Crestline 12 at night, in time to connect with the night train on Ohio and Pennsylvania Road, for Pittsburg. Philadelphia, and N. York. No change of guage or curs to Davton. Passengers save by thisrouteSSmi'lesto Davton. and50miles route b''9' P"t5burS' or Wheeling, over any other Railroad Through tickets can be procured at the office, in the Depot i lltjilerii Bacsafi Chocked to Buffalo; Pittsburg, Philadelphia and New York Baggage to Pittsburg. A, regards Freight.inquire ofJAMliS M- SMITH'Sl'PU 3""7 w- A- BRADSHaW, Freight A gent. THE 1855. GREAT EASTERN ROUTE. 1855. CLP. V K T. a ivn INDIANAPOLIS, BFLLEFOATAIiXE AND CONNNECTING at tl.is place with train, from Latayette. Terre Haute, Jeffersonville, and Madioii. Passengers will And this the cheapest. shortest, quickest andmon comfortable route to Dayton, Springfield, Urbanna, f.l if i-Cl'i'nl,,",!,ClCTel,ln1' Pittsburg, Dunkirk BufWani4on' 6W ' Boston' PbiladelphiafBaltimorend l'.TIi'1 ra'n3,lcaTeJnl''"iP0l8 daily(Sundays excepted). M c,L .efrra,)h fc!l,resa le"ve' the Union Depot at 6 A. Belle?, , , 81 U",,0.n wiUl Train for Day" ""d Cincinnati ; at G io , wHhWTrU, nrarm f ,SanJusk)-. Toledo, and Detroit; it -asm. L n for Co'umbus; and arrive in Cleveland Lake Shore Ra'S'lro', Ik ti,ne to" ' Cleveland with to Mal'mff,r!9 MallTruin 'eavesthe Union Depot at 12.45 P. mr., g V 0 "''y-ooniiections-arriving in Cleveland next and NeKw"Yorknea "o1?6 EpT Tr:lin9 fr "uSSlo more Yof-also for Pittsburg, Philadelphia and Balti0pfshsJns8f;rnrbe, "rKC"red in the Depot. ' BeSntaine aive at rLTnbSS- by takin6 A- train via. Fare Through .!. . . 5 """" lk"e"''i - -J.N 6TTiNGHAM,''superint'endant, Indian.poll, 1853. "e"tbe "'o',0;101'
A.
'The Chariota shaU raee in the streets,
INDIANAPOLIS, i rtiD8T. and its Consequences It will never do, Jedediah," said my uncle Ubed Allen, to my vounsest brolher, "it will Dever do tliis flirlinir with all the young girls, nuu inning wim guileless atk-cuons 1 My brolher Jedediah was a handsome young ieiiuw.. He liad a fine person when his bunday clothes were on a clear black eve, and red cheeks. He wore a pair of whiskers at eighteen During vacations our village girls were all in a tumuli; all were anxious to have the honor of his attentions and- many an eye was closed, with a tear under its lid, after wailing the whole evening at the window, with the expectation of fceeing jecieuiall ride up to tho horse-block. He saw their sly glances at him, as he stood of a dunriay in the galery at the church and led the choir. He knew that they thought him hand some that he was admired and he was fool enough to be flattered by such things. His van uy grew at last to be a rulinjr passion, and he thought the party tedious where all eyes in the room were nut directed towards him. He spent his vacation wholely with the girls; numg wim one, walking with another, and "set ting up with another. He made declaration in a garland of flowers, and expressed his adoration to every bright eye in the village with a boquet U1 "wceiesi ana lreshest rosebuds he could gather. As long as their admiration had the charm of novelty, he was all devotion, but when that was gone, he iled awav, like a surfeited bee, to some fresher flower. " At the, time Obed addressed him as I have stated, we were sitlino- at the break fust i.nhl Jedediah had just returned from a walk anion" the hills with Isabel Johnson, one of the sweet est girls in our village. As he came into the room, he snapt the dew out of his whiskers with high glee, and sung out at the top of his voice: "I say, Absolom, that Bell Johnson is not to be sneezed at on a damp clay. She's a real Cauliflower. , What a foot she's got ! Didst ever see her dance, uncle Obed? You'd think her the shadow of a gossamer, she's so light. Ah, Absolom, my boy, such a tramp as wehave had'l Such flowers as we gathered ! Faith. she trod her little foot upon the violets, there came up such a cloud of perfume, you would have thought madam Flora was liirhtinrr un evrv one of her incense burning altars. But hark ye ! We stopped awhile upon the brink of the ledge of old Chesnut Hill and looked down upon the water as it tumbled over the mill-dam. Bell gazed at it, as if she saw ten thousand little minds dancing minutes upon the bubbles. While she was looking, I took her little paw, so then I squeezed it gently so and I whispered, in her ear, so. But, uncle Obed, mum's the wordBell and I know who's who." It was then uncle Obed SDake. "If. wnn't rln Jedediah," said he, and his voice choked with emotion as he spoke, "it won't do. I A V I All this may be "strawberries and cream" to such a crazy pate as yours. It may be fine fun to win the heart of such an innocent thine as Bell John son, just to throw it away again, like a worthless orange after you have squeezed all the juice out. But, mark my words, Jedediah, I have seen more days than you, and observed somewhat of the ways by which Providence brina-s his rio-htpnns ends about. Justice is suie of foot though slow mark that. And for every idle word and deed of yours, there will be a riav nf account here or elsewhere. It is true I have seen some precious scoundrels, in my day, die quietly in their beds, who deserved to die at. tho t-nrl nf the halter. And the preacher says, "there is one I event to all, both the righteous and the wicked." tfut observe, my pretty fellew, I never knew a graceless rogue that trifled with a woman's affections who did not ever after find a bitter curse in his cup. Judgment follows hard upon such misdeeds. I believe there is a special woe pronounced upon the wretch and he might as well at tempt to fly into the region of infinite to try to escape it." space, as "Leave off those wicked ways, then, Jedediah, if you would prosper if you would live, to lie down without dreaming of fire and brimstone, or would die without hearing the wail of a brokenhearted one knelling in your ears. But let this motto be your guide, when you go among the sweet innocent flowers whom God has raised up here : "Never excite expectations you do not intend to gratify!"' Here uncle Obed's voice grew husky. He took a long and deep draught from his mug of cider, and rose from the table and walked out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, Jedediah drew a long breath, looked at me half mad and half ashamed, and then contemptuously whistled whew.- :' My foolish brother continued to flirt with Isabella, until her whole being was locked up in his. Her friends cautioned her in vain she was blind to the suggestions of her better judgment.. At length, after he had completely triumphed' over her simple heart, he left her, and sought some other sweet flower to blight as he had done this. Isabel bore his coldness awhile with apparent indifference. But the lustre gradually left her eye, her cheeks grew pale and thin, and her fine red lips to a deadlike purple hue. She complained to none. She murmured not against him. Her friends noticed that she mingled less witli the gay. It was evident, however, that the machinery of her existence was eraduallv rnnninnr down; and every day was expected to bring some story of her sickness or death. She mingled less with society, and spent her time, when the weather would permit, in wandering anion o- the hills and forests. . . One evening of a pleasant day which she spent away from home in this manner, her parents observed that she did not return at her usual hour. They became alarmed, and rousing a party of their neighbors they went in pursuit of her. They traveled the forest and thicket for a long while in vain. They shouted her name through the deep glens and blew their horns on the tops of the hills. But echo alone replied At length about midnight, one of the party on his return, discovered her on the edge of a hio-h ledge of rocks, seated at the foot of an old beach, which hung far above the precipice. He
they shall seem like torches, they shall run
IND., SATURDAY, 3IAY 12 1855.
called on her as soon as he discovered her. She returned no answer. He thought she might be asleep, and he clambered up the rocks to where she sat. lie called again, and louder, but she answered not. Then he touched her thuulder and genily shook her, and started back with horror. . She was dead cold and stiT; though as she sat, she looked the more like one enjoying a quiet slumber. Her left firm rest d on the trunk of the tree, and the fingers of her right hand were laid upon the letters of my brother's name, cut out on the smooth bark, i'- seemed as it she had been trying to trace them out in the dark Doubtless such was the fact, and that her broken spirit had passed a war while busied in this strange but natural effort. She was buried the village church yard lhe next day without any parade. But the story or iier lite and death be came one of the tradui 'iis ot the place, and stranger may hear it to.J by any of the villagers. should he chance to ask w liose neat white mon ument it is that stands in the corner of the yard w ith a strangely quaint device sculptured upon it. Our Schoolmaster l ad been a rejected lover or Isabel s, and procui '.- i the artist who executed the monument to engrave upon it an emblem of his own devising. It consisted of her name in beautiful Gerrruin capimls, under which there was a drooping lily iu full bloom around whose stock a small adder has coiled himself; its head thrust into the cup of the flower, as if he was sucking away the life juice of the lovely plant ibis was her only epitaph. Ivo one who knew her story could be at a Jens as to the design. My brother was absent when she died. When he returned and heard the story of her death, he snowed some signs ot emotion. For several days he kept aloof from society; you could read icuiuiae in ins eye, an t ai times mere was a twitching of the muscl s of the face, as if he felt the gnawing of the worm which never dies. But it soon wore off, and he became as gay as ever. He mingled with li is usual lightness in the village parties. He smiled as ever upon other belles, and, alas poor human nature, thev return ed them as sweetly as ever. f l must contess that I, thought sometimes nf my uncle Obed's warning, and looked for unp dreadful fulfilment of n)e deceiver's curse. I felt a foreboding that a Judgment would pome It did come. After he had graduakij he studied law, and established himself in an adjoining county in his profession. He had fine talents for the bar, and rose rapidly in the esteem of the public. Several years rolled away, aijd at the age of twentynine he found himself wealthy, with a good repuratinn vr .;n t , f 'ciuauitt, no-rtever, as reckless and as wild in his intercourse with society mingniiy in an us gayest circles. in tne winter ot his tli year he catio-ht a areaurul cold, while oJ a sleigh ride, which raaue great inroads upon his health, and biwht on symptoms ol consumption. His physician torn Him mat lie could nut survive the rigor of another JNew England winter, and recommended a voyage to Cuba. I went with him as his nurse, and the following winter we spent in Havana. Here he rapidly regained his health, and as ha spoke Spanish as fluently as a Castillion, he mingled a great deal with Spaniards. His fine person flnH fucinotin. r i i .,.-w.,..,.,g iiiaiiucis souu touno mm a passport to the favor of manv a black-eved donna. He seemed perfectly happy while" baskinoin the sunshine of their smiles. But alas, poor fellow, slow-footed justice was about to overtake him. On some occasion the Governor General o-ave a splendid ball at this place. We were botlf invited. I was satisfied with looking on the gay scene, but he mingled in all its luxuries. I observed that he waltzed several times with the beautiful wife of a young Spanish officer of high rank. The last time he handed her to her seat he plucked her a moss rosebud from a vase, which stood near him, ad dropped it into her bosom. Here he stooped and whispered something in her ear, and when she raised her head I observed that a deep blush was passing over her face, and a smile of peculiar meaning curling her hps. He forgot that the eye of Spanish jealousy knew neither slumber nor sleep. Two days afterwards he was found by the city guard, about daylight, on the pavement in front of this Spaniard's house; a broken guitar laying beside him, and a Spanish dirk sticking in each side, botli thrust quite through his heart ) . It is more than twenty years since these events occurred. But they are as if they occurred but yesterday; and now when I see a gifted younoman flu ting or trifling with the feelings of a loverly girl a sight too often seen in these degenerate days, I think of Jedediah, and feel tempted to say to him, m the words of my uncle Obed "beware how you excite expectations you do not mean to gratify !" Courtship of the Elder Adams. Some ten years since, I spent a colle tion m the town of Weymouth, Norfolk county, Mass. While there, I attended church one Sunday morning at what was called the old Weymouth meeting-house, and heard a sermon from the venerable pastor, Rev. Jacob Norton. About the same time I made Norton a visit, and became much interested in the old gentleman. I mentioned my agreeable visits to an aged lady of the Parish, whose acquaintance I had made; she informed me that Mr. Norton was ordained pastor when he was twenty-one years of age, and that he had been with them nearly forty years. She observed that most of his parishoners could remember no other pastor ; but that she could well remember the predecessor, the Rev. Mr. Smith, and that he and Mr. Norton had filled the same pulpit for the better part of the last eighty years. "Mr. Smith," said she, "was an excellent man, and a very fine preacher ; but he had high notions of himself and family in other words, he was something of an aristocrat." "One day," said she to me, "to illustrate to you a little the character of old parson Smith, I will tell you an anecdote that relates to himself and some other persons of distinction. Mr. Smith had two charming daughters the eldest of these daughters name was Mary, the otlm-'s name I have forgottenwho were the admiration of the beaux, and vaca-
like the liShtaing3."-AAum,t,, 4.
tlic envy of all the belles of the country around. But while the careful guardians of the parson's family were holding consultation on the subject, it was rumored that two young lawyers, (I think both of the neighboring town of Quincy.) a Mr. Cranch and a Mr. Adams, were paying their addresses to the Misses Smith. As every man, woman and child of a country parish in England, is acquainted with whatever takes place In the parson's family, all the circumstances of the courtship soon transpired. Mr. Cranch was of a respectable family of some note, was considered a young man of promise, and .altogether worthy of the alliance he sought. He was very acceptable to Mr. Smith, and was greeted by himself and family with great respect and cordiality. He was received by the eldest daughter as a "lover; and was in fact a young man of respectability. He afterwards rose to the dignity of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas of Massachusetts, and was the father of the present Hon. Judge Cranch, of the District of Columbia. The suitor of the other daughter was John Adams, who afterwards became President of the United Slates. But at that time, in the opinion ofMr. Smith and family, he gave butslenderpromise oi me aisuncuon to winch he atterwards at tamed. His pretentions were scorned by all the family, except the young lady to whom his ad dresses were especially directed. Mr. Smith showed him none of the ordinary civilities of the house, he was not asked to partake of the hospitalities of (he table; and it is reported that his horse was doomed to share with his master, the neglect and mortification to which he was subjeuwu, lor ne was irequentiy seen slavering in me cold, and gnawing the post at the parson's uoor, oi long winter evenings. In fine it was reported that Mr. Smith had intimated to him that his visits were unacceptable, and would do him. a favor bv discontinuing them: he told his daughter that John Adams was not worthy of her; that his father was an honest tradesman and farmer, who had tried to initiate John in the arts of shoemaking and husbandry, but with out success; and that he had sent him to college as a last resort. He in fine begged his daughter not to think of making an alliance with one so much beneath her. Miss Smith was among the most dutiful of daughters, but she saw Mr. Adams throua-h a medium very different from that through which her father viewed him. She would not for th world offend or disobey her father, but still John saw something in her eye which seemed to sav K., ft -J .1 1 . i . , J ' jjcisevert:, uiiu on inai nint lie acted. Mr. Smith, like a good parsonjin'd an affection ate father, had told his daughters if they married vvith-hi3 approbation, he would Broach e-u-h nf them a sermon on the Sabbath after the joyful occasion ; and they should have the privilege of choosing the text. The espousal of the eldest daughter, Mary, arrived, and she was united to Mr. Cranch in the holy bonds, with the approval, the blessings and benedictions of her parents and her friends. Mr. Smith then said, "my dutiful child, I am now ready to prepare your sermon for next Sunday ; wnat ao you select tor your text?" "My dear father," said Mary, "I have selected the latter part of the 42d verse of the 10th chapter of uukc ; "Mary has chosen the good part which shall never be taken from her." "Very good, my daughter," said her father; and so a sermon was preached. Mr. Adams persevered in his suit in defiance of all opposition. It was many years after, and on a very different occasion, and in resistance of a very different opposition, that he uttered these memorable words, "sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my heart and hand to this measure." But though the measures were different the spirit was the same. Besides he had already carried the main point of attack, the heart of the young lady and he knew the surrender of the citadel must soon follow. A fter the usual hesitation and delay that attend such an unpleasant affair, Mr. Smith, seeing that resistance was fruitless, yielded the contested point with as much grace as possible, as manv a r,dent father has done, before and since that time. Air. Adams was united to the lovely Miss Smith. After the marriage was over, and all things wpre. settled in quiet, Mrs. Adams remarked to her father, 'you preached sister Mary a sermon on the occasion of her marriage, won't you preach me one likewise?" Yes, my dear girl," said Mr. Smith, "choose your text, and you shall have your ser mon." "Well," said the daughter. "I hav chosen the 33d verse of the 7th chapter of Luke:" "For John came neither eating bread or drink ing wine ; and ye say he hath a devil." The old lady, my informant, looked me vprv archly in the face when she repeated this passage, and observed : - "If Mary was the most dutiful daughter, I guess the other had the most wit." i could not ascertain whether the last sermon was ever preached. It may not be inappropriate to remark, how well the ladies justified the preference of the distinguished individualsTwho had sought them in marriage. Of them it will hardly be extravagant to say, they were respectively an honor to their husbands, the boast of their sex, and the pride of New England. Mrs. Adams, in particular, who, from the elevated position in which her husband was placed before the world, was brought before the public evs. was suDDOsed to hold the same elevated rank with the gentle sex, that Mr. Adams did among men, and she is reported to have rendered her husband much assistance in his multiplied labors of the pen. Oin. citron. jTSTThe following lucid descrintion of a lost bird appears in the form of an advertisement in an exchange: "The scoundrel who took the canary with a pug nose, red face, and a light overcoat is requested to return it immediatelyrto 28 Willow street, as the bird is a valuable one, from whom no questions will be asked." ,5?The last new societv snoken of in Cali fornia is the Pay Nothing. It is said to be alarmingly prosperous. The password is "Lend me a dollar" the response is "Broke."
ELDER & HARKNESS, Publishers.
NO 12. The Character of Merchants. The Rev. Dr. Adams, of New York, recently delivered a lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association of Newark, in which he portrayed the mercantile profession in its brighter feature, without touching the darker sides of the picture. He commenced with a happy allusion to the motto on the seal of the letter inviting the lecture, "Res non verba" actions, not words which was worthy the imitation of every young man. Our republic was not founded by poets and theorists, but by surveyors, merchants, mechanics, and others, whose principle was Res, non verba. In commencing his theme lhe ideal of a vierctanthe noticed Shakspeare's description of Shylock and Antonio; while we stigmatize one as an avaricious man, believing strongly in law, but not in mercy, we are won by the sublime heroism of the merchant's self-sacrifice. The world is a great mart, where riches, fame, and luxurious ease are striven for; but he would protest against the idea that to attain these we must devote all our energy, discarding everything else. He mentioned prominent merchants of the Old World who had done much for literature as well a business; there was no incongruity between habits of thought and action. The merchant should not write over his mind the inscription of his counting room "No admittance, except on business." The idea that mercantile life was one of ease and exemption from labor had poisoned the prospects and advancement of many a boy, and spoiled a good farmer or mechanic in a poor merchant. There is no more respectability in wielding a pen in broadcloth, than in following. a plow or wielding an axe. As much worth, interest, and honor as a man puts in his business, so much will he derive from it. , In mercantile life, honesty will be severely tried, and will either decline or be strengthened so that it will be steadfast ever after. He then dwelt upon credit its beautiful derivation credo, I believe men" trusting ia fellow-men; and this surrounded them like the halo that old painters throw around everything divine. The nice sense of honor in their code was more binding than statutes, and helped them in adversity. What expanding ideas crowd the merchant's mind as he views the great panorama of Commerce ! Who knows so well as he the civilizing effects of commerce? Their exchange forms a sort of court to which every nation sends its representatives, and nature seemed to have distributed her products for their benefit. He spoke strongly in favor of early and discreet marriages, which should not be deferred till they could vie with the opulent; and paid a high tribute to Mrs. John Adams, who he regardedas the cause of her husband's advancement. Iier gentle influences, which lay about the roots of his character, stimulated and strengthened its growth. Wealth adds nothing to intelligence or real enjoyment, our capacity for happiness being in our nature, and not in our means. Simplicity and industry are the most beautiful ornaments of successful merchants; and the world looks more hopefully and trustfully to them than to its legislators. India Rubber Combs. In consequence of the numerous applications of iron to the arts in our period, the present is frequently termed the "Iron Age." It is sometimes, too, very properly called the "Age of Steam," and at others the "Age of Electricity." WTith equal propriety it may be termed the "India Rubber Age." The application of this substance to the arts and manufactures are so numerous that we cannot think of giving a list of them here; nevertheless, we will mention a few facts relative to this material. When we were at school India rubber was looked upon only as "a curious specimen of a vegetable gum, which had the singular quality of removing pencil marks from paper." Now this is some thirty summers past; and during that short period India rubber has been employed for shoes, coats, hats, carriage wheels, pipes, joints, &c, in endless variety, Every day we find out some new application for some useful purpose. This is not to be wondered at when its extraordinary qualities are considered. It is now, we perceive, made into combs, superseding expensive tortoise- . shell and the brittle horn. When India rubber is mixed and kneaded with a portion of sulphur, and passes through heated rollers to thoroughly incorporate the sulphur, it is then called "Vulcanized. " Now if the vulcanized rubber be exposed for a few hours in a vessel to the action of high-pressure steam, say of 300 centigrade heat, it acquires new properties. From being soft it becomes hard, though very difficult to break. In this state its texture very much resembles tortoise-shell, and can be beautifully polished. Comb-makers cut and work it like shell. It can be carved, and designs of any form can be made; and. from its strength, it is well suited for delicate work in instances where other materials would be liable to fracture. Thus the milky juice of a tree (Siphonia and Ficus Elastievs) is made by the art of man into a walking cane, a picture frame, a top coat, a slipper, or a comb. Septimus Piessb. Very Touching. Here is a touching description of a moonlight scene. After whirling for some time in the ecstatic mazes of a delightful waltz, Cornelia and myself stepped out unobserved, on to the balcony, to enjoy a few of those moments of solitude so precious to lovers. It was a glorious night the air was cool and refreshing. As I gazed on the beautiful being at my side, I thought I never saw her look so lovely ; "the full moon cast her bright rays over her whole person, giving her an almost angelic appearance, and imparting to her flowing curls a still more golden hue. One of her soft fair hands rested in mine, and ever and anon she met my ardent gaze with one of pure, confiding love. Suddenly a change came over her soft features', her full, red lip trembled as if with suppressed emotion, a teardrop rested on her long, drooping lashes, the muscles around her faultless mouth became convulsed, she gasped for breath and, snatching her hand from the warm pressure of my own, she turned suddenly away, buried her face in her fine cambric handkerchief, and sneezed ! ! Ex.
