Anecdotes of Avarice. My Lord Hardwicke, the late Lord Chancellor, who is said to be worth £800,000, sets the same value on half a crown now as he did when he was worth only £100. That great captain, the Duke of Marlborough, when he was in the last stage of life, and very infirm, would walk from the public room in Bath to his lodgings, in a cold, dark night, to save sixpence in chair hire. If the duke, who left at his death more than a million and a half sterling, could have foreseen that all his wealth and honors were to be inherited by a grandson of my Lord Trevor's, who had been one of his enemies, would he have been so careful to save a sixpence for the sake of his heir? Not for the sake of his heir, but he would always have saved a sixpence. Sir James Lowther, after changing a piece of silver in George's Coffeehouse, and paying two-pence for his dish of coffee, was helped into his chariot (for he was then lame and infirm,) and went home; sometime after, he returned to the same coffee-house on purpose to acquaint the woman who kept it that she had given him a bad half-penny, and demanded another in exchange for it. Sir James had about £10,000 per annum, and was at a loss whom to appoint his heir. I knew one Sir Thomas Colby, who lived at Kensington, and was, I think, a commissioner in the Victualing Office; he killed himself by rising in the middle of the night, when he was in a very profuse sweat, the effect of a medicine which he had taken for that purpose, and walking down stairs to look for the key of his cellar, which he had inadvertently left on a table in his parlor; he was apprehensive that his servants might seize the key and rob him of a bottle of port wine. This man died intestate, and left more than £1,200,000 in the funds, which was shared among five or six day-laborers, who were his nearest relations. Sir William Smythe, of Bedfordshire, who was my kinsman, when he was near seventy, was wholly deprived of his sight; he was persuaded to be couched by Taylor, the oculist, who, by agreement, was to have sixty guineas if he restored his patient to any degree of sight. Taylor succeeded in his operation, and Sir William was able to read and write without the use of spectacles during the rest of his life; but as soon as the operation was performed, and Sir William seeing the good effects of it, instead of being overjoyed, as any other person would have been, he began to lament the loss (as he called it) of his sixty guineas. His contrivance, therefore, was how to cheat the oculist; he pretended that he had only a glimmering, and could see nothing perfectly; for that reason the bandage on his eye was continued a month longer than the usual time. By this means he obliged Taylor to compound the bargain, and accept of twenty guineas; for a covetous man thinks no method dishonest which he may legally practice to save his money.-Dr. King's Anecdotes of his own Times. What Rum Can Do. At an early hour yesterday morning, before a miserable alleyway in the neighborhood of the " 'Points," that ominous vehicle known as "Black Maria," was seen. It was awaiting a pauper occupant, and in itself was one of the most wretched specimens of its kind. The horse to which it had been yoked was blind, spavined and bony, while the driver, lolling on his seat, with a short pipe in his mouth, present a faithful picture of dirty and degraded humanity. Presently a coffin of the roughest material was borne out from the alleyway and deposited in the hearse, which was immediately driven off at a jog-trot, its destination being Potter's Field. The incident was not extraordinary. Every day paupers die and are buried; but the history of the man whose removal to the shabby black hearse we had noticed was incidentally related to us, and thinking it of a nature to "point a moral," we sum it up with all necessary brevity. Rum had killed the man at the age of thirty-eight. By birth a German, and by profession a carver in ivory and wood, he arrived in America seven years ago.Highly skilled in his craft, he encountered no difficulty in procuring remunerative employment. For some time he worked steadily, and was a happy and respectable man, the husband of an amiable woman and the father of three children-the oldest a girl who must now be about 17 years of age.-The demon of intemperance, however claimed him for its own. He became a rum drinker years since, and never ceased to be one until the last week of his existence, when the warning of the priest and the physician, whose joint attendance had been suggested by charity, convinced him too late of the madness of his career. His wife and his two younger children dead, and the elder sustaining a miserable existence by means which the reader may bet ter imagine than we describe-all these calamities caused by him alone; the last moments of that mendicant must have been bitter indeed; most full of agony from the reflection of what he might have been had he continued in his former decent course. For more than a month past, indebted to charitable forbearance and real kindness of heart for the roof above his head and for actual food, his last breath was exhaled on Wednesday morning, and twenty-four hours afterward he was on his way to the general golgotha of such unfortunates-the accompaniments of his progress thither being the mist and snow of a December morning. Thus slays the demon-Rum.-Tribune, Dec. 14. High Life Below Stairs. When this satirical farce was first brought out in London, "Old Drury" came very near being mobbed by the infuriated valets and lacqueys whom it so cleverly took off. But in Young America no such offence can be taken at a squib, and therefore the following, from the correspondence of the Sunday Mercury, is a capital illustration of "Young America," grafted on a little Irish assurance and impudent go a-head-ativeness. I cannot yet drive the election out of my head, and apropos of that I just heard a very funny anecdote relative to it. It runs in this wise: Some two years ago Coleman and Stetson, of the Astor House, had a pet waiter, who suddenly, for some unexplained reason, left them. This waiter was called Mr. Mooney. The day before yesterday Mr. Coleman happened in at the Metropolitan Hotel, and there, in the reading room, he saw Mooney as large as life, smoking a cigar, and perusing the morning newspapers. 'Good morning Coleman," said Mooney, without rising. "Good morning," responded Coleman, "I am glad to see you. Are you here now-I mean are you located in this hotel ?" "Yes sir." "Glad to hear that too. You'll find the Leland's first rate men; you'll like them, I know." "Yes, they're pretty clever fellows," said Mooney impudently. Clever fellows!" exclaimed Coleman, who wondered how Mooney dared to speak so disrespectfully of his employers; they are excellent men and you ought to be proud to be with them!" 6. I am," said Mooney, puffing out from his mouth a fresh cloud of tobacco smoke. Well, Mooney," resumed Coleman, "I wish you well, and I would rather have you at our house than see you here--" "I'll may be come to you shortly," interrupted Mooney, with a patronising air. "But, no," continued Coleman, "while you do well, stay here. Let me give you a piece of advice, however. The Lelands are, as I said before, excellent, easy, good natured men; but they do not like to be imposed upon. If they see you here smoking cigars and making free with the guests, they will most likely tell you to leave the house." "Sir!" "My advice is," continued Coleman, with a parental look, "that you never show yourself here; stick to your own apartments, otherwise, I could swear you'll be discharged." Why, what in the devil do you take me for?" cried Mooney starting to his feet, and displaying an elegant ruffled shirt bosom, and a cable watch chain. THE NEAR-SIGHTED MAN.-In an age of spectacles, the near-sighted individual becomes what Eerson would entitle a representative man. Ile is the embodiment of the afflictions, vexations and advantages of a numerous class, whose organs of vision refuse to extend their scope of observation very far beyond the extremity of their nasal protuberance. He is a character who cannot be overlooked in the civilized society of to-day. To Near-Sight is a man of many foes, however open to forgiveness-however generous in his charity. To-day he is warmly shaken by the hand by Mr. Brown, and to judge from the conversation, you would suppose they were eternal friends. morrow, Near-Sight meets Mr. Brown on the promenade and passes by him without even a nod of recognition; and then the next time Brown and Near-Sight meet in company, Brown turns the cold shoulder. If Near-Sight is too proud to ask an explanation, the two remain separated, and Brown ranks among the enemics of his former friend. But if Near-Sight seeks an explanation, and ascertains the cause of the revulsion of feeling, a reference to his eyes may set matters right. Often, however, even this apology fails. Thus it is that Near-Sight is a man of many foes, and that he is subject to constant vexation from the freaks of those who either can't or won't make allowance for his infirmity. Near-Sight acquires the reputation of being aristocratic in his bearing-although he may be the veriest democrat in nature. His want of extended vision gradually induces a habit of reserve in glance and speech, which is mistaken for an overweening pride. Here is another source of enmity, and relentless are the foes who imagine themselves regarded with contempt by one whem they know to be only their equal. They will pursue Near-Sight at all times and under all circumstances, and try every method their brains can devise to bring him to the dust; and should he fall, through any weakness or misfortune, long and loud is the jeer of triumph with which they greet his prostration. If Near-Sight is a young man, fond of company, he must lag behind many who are his inferiors, because of the spectacles, that conceal while they aid "the windows of the soul," or consent to lose many a vision of feminine beauty in throwing the glasses aside. Rare must be the wit and musical the voice that can atone, in general company, for the defects of eyes in the youth who seek there social pleasure. In the case of a young female, however attractive in feature, what, to the general esteem, can atone for the spectacled eyes? But Near-Sight has an infirmity which is not all an infirmity. The toad bears yet a jewel in its crown. In the first place, there are a number of acquaintances whom we do not care to recognise in the strect, even though we have no especial dislike for them. To say nothing of creditors-they will exist -there are persons who may be very good in their way, but who are not the kind of people with whom we have any desire to be on terms of speaking intimacy. Near-Sight has a glorious preventative of the evil bores, and his button holes are reserved for those with whom he wishes friendly intercourse. He escapes the pressing and garrulous politician and the fashionable scandal of the fop-his eyes are bad, he does not recognise them in the crowd. Again, Near-Sight, through his very infirmity, acquires a habit of turning his eyes within and of self absorption, while others are continually distracted by the objects that intrude upon the sight-and thought is stimulated. Near Sight is pre-eminently a thinking Thus comes the silver fringe to the cloudthe yarn is mingled of good and ill. man. The Philadelphia Sunday Mercury tells a good story of a fellow in that city, who, a few days since, stole a firkin of butter from a grocery store, and ran off with it on his shoulder. When the butter was missed, the thief was of course pursued by the owner and a crowd of men and boys, crying "stop thief!" Being strong and fleet of foot, the rogue had every prospect of escaping, but in an unlucky moment, he attempted to shift his load from one shoulder to the other, and in so doing passed it under his nose, when, as he declared in the Mayor's office, the scent of the butter was so powerful that it immediately knocked him down. This of course enabled the the crowd to overtake and capture him. An Observing Child. Children have sometimes a peculiar way of saying things very subversive of gravity in old folks. "M. Frederick Fitzgerald Smith had a luxurious growth of whiskers. The lower part of his countenice was entirely enveloped in hair from ear to ear. The pilous vegetation stool out in large, matted, tangleland curly magnificeat masses all over his jaws and chin. Nature, if too profuse in her gifts in one direction, is very apt to correct the redundancy by a compensative deficiency in another. So it happened with Mr. Fitzgerald Smith. All over the under part of his head, below his ears, was very curly. But per contra: "He had no wool on the top of his head, In the place where the wool ought to grow." Mr. Smith lodged one night and breakfasted at the house of Mr. John Simpkins, his friend. Mr. Simpkins had like every parent who has children, a very smart little girl. It is surprising how many smart children there are now-a-days! At the breakfist table young Miss Arabella Simpkins could not take her eyes for one moment from the patriarchal countenance of Mr. Smith. "Arabella, love, don't be so rude," nudged Mrs. Simpkins, primus. "Arabella, eat your toast," frowned Mr. Simpkins, secundus. But Arabella kept on staring at Mr. Frederick Fitzgerald Smith. "Betty, remove this naughty girl from the table," cried Mr. Simpkins, in a rage. "I don't want to go, I don't," squalled the smart Arabella, "I want to look at that man a little longer. Don't you see, ma, he has got his head on wrong side up?" The young lady was living at last accounts, and doing well, but it is difficult to conceive how she can survive. A REMARKABLE MAN.-A correspondent of The Louisville (Ky.) Democrat, writing from Madison, Dec. 3, 1855, relates the following: "Having during the last ten years heard the history of Mr. David Wilson-who formerly resided at Carrollton, Ky.-repeated frequently, and which Beemed to me fabulous, or which at least taxed my eredulity very much, and happening a few days go to meet with Mr. Alexander Wilson of North Madison, with whom I've been acquainted for several years, I spoke of his father, and he said what I had heard was correct. He told me that he (Alexander) was the 45th child of David, and David Was the father of 47 lawful children. He lived to the age of 107 years, and during his lifetime had five wives. By his first wife he had eighteen children. A few years before he died he expressed a desire to remove to Indiana, but was opposed by his fifth and last wife. He however took a trip to find a new location to suit him, and when he retuned home he found that his wife had packed up Sone of her goods and chattels and returned to her fends in Kentucky. He went after her and endeavored to persuade her to return to his house, but she would not go. In a short time, however, she relented, and then wished to return to his house; but he would have nothing to do with her-and so ey remained separated till his death. Very few Lis children died in their infancy or youth; and there are now 35 of them living who are all men women full grown. David Wilson was a man of pure good health and robust physical constitution. At the age of 105 years he could mow an ere a day for a week at a time without evincing Tuch fatigue. He appeared to have not a rib.The whole region of his breast was shielded by a Pate of solid bone, and he could receive the most severe and powerful blows upon it without being He frequently, for the gratification of others, Buffered them to strike him most violently in the breast without being made to feel in the least unfortable. During our border wars he was taken prisoner by the Indians, and they attempted to stab in the breast, but found the solid bone impenerable. His minute history would be interesting collected and published. He was one of the ot remarkable men that ever lived in America. rogeny was very numerous, and he attained a green old age. At the age of 107 years, when he died, one of his faculties of mind or body were materially impaired." GREAT MORAL SPECTACLE OF MOUNT Seen opens. Distant Moon. View of Bay of Naples. A thin smoke rises. IT IS THE BEGINNING OF THE ERUCTION! The Naples folks begin to travel. Yaller fire, follered by silent thunder. Awful consternation. SUTIIN RUMBLES! It is the Mounting preparing to Vomic! They call upon the fire department. IT'S NO USE! Flight of Stool pigeons. A cloud of impenetrable smoke hang over the fated city, through which the Naplers are seen makin' tracks. Awful explosion of bulbs, kurbs, forniquets, pin wheels, serpentiles, and fourbillion spirals! The Mounting Laver begins to squash out! End of Part One. Part Two. Bay of Naples 'luminated by Bendola Lites.The lava gushes down. Through the smoke is seen the city in a state of conflagration. The last family! "Whar is our parents!" A red hot stone of eleven tuns weight falls onto 'em. The bareheaded father falls scentless before the statoo of the Virgin! Denumong! The Syracuse Standard is responsible for the following: "Twas towards the edge of the evening on Saturday last when a portly individual, with good capon lined, was being shown to his room in the Globe Hotel, when as the key was about being inserted in the door of room No. 7, a voice was heard inside to speak in a loud and menacing tone, 'open that door and I'll fire!' "The Lord be good to uz and presarve uz!" exclaimed the Irish servant as he rushed back towards the stairs, whence a large party of ladies and gentlemen were ascending with the good natured Landlord at the head of them."What is the matter Rooney?" "Shure there's a crazy man is after shooting out of No. 7, sir. Mr. Alton bid me come up and unlock the door and the divil a mon of me dares to do that same, sir."Land.-" Go and unlock the door, he dare not shoot you for that." "Shure can't ye come yourself, you know, sir, ye didn't hire me for to get kilt, sir.' "That's so, Rooney; I'll go myself. Halloo here, you are in the wrong room, I guess. Say stranger. Female voice inside-" There, I told you, husband, there was some mistake here, that we wasn't in the right room. Dear! you do make such blunders every time we travel." 'Silence, madam," said a coarse, angry voice, "I am a man of blood, and brook no opposition. Come one, come all, I'll conquer here or die, Booh!" "He's going to shoot!" and away rushed ladies and gentlemen, waiters and all, except the worthy host and the portly traveler afore mentioned, both of whom seemed not a little intimidated, however, by the desperate manner of the insider. A violent struggle was now heard in the room, a heavy bound upon the floor, when the female voice within was heard to say, you may come in, I've the pistol away from him." Whereupon several stalwart 'helps' were induced to enter the room and found-nobody there but themselves. The author of all this mischief and mirth (for it ended in mirth) was Winchell. THE CHOLERA AND THE METHODIST.-And now that we are down in that region, we are tempted to tell the story of a Dutchman who made his entry into New Orleans last summer, while the cholera was raging there, and was greatly troubled in finding a boarding-house. He inquired of the first one he saw if they had the cholera in the house, and learning that they had, he went to another, and another, determined not to stop at any house where the disease was doing its work of death. At last, after a long and weary search, he found one where there was no cholera, and he took up his quarters there. The master of the house was a godly man, and had family worship every night. As all were assembled for that purpose, and the master was offering prayer, he groaned with some force and fervor, when the Dutchman started up, and cried out "O Lord! vot ish tere matter?" Nothing," said the host; "keep still, will you, and behave yourself." In a short time he groaned again, and the Dutchman started, with his eyes staring like saucers, and exclaimed, "0, mine Got! dere is something ter matter mit you!" "No, there ain't," said the landlord; and then, to calm his boarder's apprehension, he added: "I'm a Methodist, and it is the habit of the most of the members of the church to groan during their devotions, and that is my way.' This was enough for the Dutchman, who rushed into the street, asked for a doctor, found one, and begged him to run to the house on the corner. "What is the matter?" said the doctor; "have they got the cholera ?" "No, no, but worse; dar ha got der Mettodis, and der man will die mit it pefore you don't kit there, if you run quick!"-Harper's Magazine. MR. GREELEY IN WASHINGTON.-A Washington letter-writer tells the following, in speaking of the presence of Philosopher Greeley at the Federal Cap ital: A trio of Irish servants were busily talking politics in the corner of the reading room, (Irish sevants are great politicians here,) when one of them suddenly exclaimed 'Be jabers, boys, an' there's ould Greeley!' 'Where?' exclaimed his companions, with as much interest in their looks as they would naturally exhibit on being told that St. Patrick or Bishop Hughes was before them. 'Standin' yon by the table, talkin' wid the tall gentleman.' The Hibernians gazed curiously and intensely at Horace for an instant, when the youngest of them, apparantly a late importation, with wonder in his voice, observed 'Sure, an' he's a white man !' 'Av coorse he's a white man,' said the first speaker, in a patronizing tone, as though Horace and he were the greatest of cronies. 'Well, be my sowl, I've been decaved in the ould fellow entirely,' continued the other, 'I thought he was a nagur.' My friend asked Anthony Rox, a superb engine driver on the Ohio River, how he came to get free. "Why, Massa Vincent, my health was very bad when I was in Kentucky; I couldn't do no kind of work; I was very feeble; 'twas jes as much as I could do to hoe my own garden and eat the sass; and the missus that owned me see that I was a mis'able nigger-one of the mis'ablest kind. So I said to her, "Missus, I'm a mis'able nigger, and I ain't worth nothing, and I think you'd better sell me, I'm such a mis'able nigger.' Now, Massa Vincent, I was such a poor nigger that missus agreed to sell me for a hundred dollars, and I agreed to try to work and earn the money to pay her, and I did, and my health has been getting better ever since, and I 'specks I made about nine hundred dollars that time out of that nigger. Wah, wah, Massa Vincent." t 'SHE THOUGHT SHE HAD IT.'-The Petersburg Express tells the following story A few nights ago, a lady up in the South Ward woke up in affright, called her servants to make all possible haste and fetch Dr- (one of our very talented physicians much patronized by the ladies.) She thought she had it! Away went the negroes with full steam up, and alarmed the doctor, exclaiming, 'O make a hurry, doctor, missus thinks she got it!' On arriving at the lady's residence, the doctor enquired of the first maid how her mistress was then? 'O, sir, she thought she had it,' was the reply. The doctor hurried up stairs, ruminating in his mind on every kind of ailment the faculty luxuriates in, and pathology mystifies mankind about, and found he lady en robe de nuit,somewhat calm and collected 'Well, doctor,' exclaimed she, gracefully, 'I really thought I had it.' 'Had what, madame, in the name of goodness?' 'Why the yellow fever, doctor.' It seems that the cause of this very ludicrous mistake took its rise as follows- The lady in question had been recommended a wash made from yellow ochre as a preventive against mosquito bites, and to soften the skin at this season. She had rubbed the wash over her face, neck and arms, and had retired to bed; but as the liquid dried up, it left quite a yellow coating on the skin, and gave the lady the appearance of a magnificent bright yellow belle. Happening to rise in the night to get a glass of water, she peeped in her glass (as ladies will ever do), and by the power of her night lamp, saw herself strangely colored, and thinking the worst thing first, she thought she had it! The doctor left. AN INTERESTING INCIDENT.-A little Indian boy, named Jack, in the Indian school established on the Red River, by Messrs. West and Cockran, Missionaries of the English Church Mission Society, was taken very sick. In this condition one of the Missionaries visited him, and observing a Bible lying under the corner of his blanket, he said: "Jack, you have a friend there; I am glad to see that, I hope you find good from it." Weak and almost dying as the poor fellow was, he raised himself on his elbow, held the Bible in his emaciated hand, and while a smile played on his countenance, he said "That, sir, is my friend. You gave it to me when we all went down to live at Mr. Cockran's. For a long time I have read it much, and often thought of what it told me. Last year I went to see my sister, across Lake Winnepeg,(about 200 miles off,) where I remained two months. When I was half way back over the lake, I remembered that I had left my Bible behind me. I directly turned around, and was nine days by myself, tossing to and fro in my canoe before I could reach the place; but I found my friend, and determined I would not part with it again; and ever since that time it has ever been near my breast. And I have been thinking that I should have the blessed book buried with me; but I have thought since, that I had better give it to you when I am gone, and it may do some one else good." While speaking thus he was often interrupted by his cough; and when he had finished, he sank down upon his pillow entirely exhausted, and soon after died and went to his reward-another trophy of the grace of God, through the instrumentality of His Word, which is able to make men wise unto salvation. Among the "quaint and curious" correspond. ence almost daily received at the Cosmopolitan Office in this city, we have been shown the following from a genius "out West!" To the inquiry propounded him by the Circular of the Association, demanding "how many papers are published in your place-population, &c.," the reply was :-- "No papers published here, because the people can't read." The population is as follows: Irish, 160 175 Amsterdam Dutch, Other dam Dutch, White Men, 80 7 "There was formerly eight white men, but your humble servant has vacated the ranche and pitched his tent in Mineral Point, where if he can aid the Cosmopolitan in a moral or religious way, command him. Yours." Sandusky Register. MISTAKES OF A NIGHT.-The following ludicrous Incident occurred, recently, on board the night train from New York. Two married conples took their seat in the cars at New York, bound for Boston, in close proximity, and about eight o'clock they both indulged in balmy slumbers, the heads of their wives resting upon their husbands' shoulders. When the cars reached Worcester, the gentlemen stepped out, and the ladies, apparently exhausted, slept on. The delay was brief, and on entering the cars, the husbands, whose eyes were scarcely opened,exchanged seats, and in a few moments resumed their natural positions, and were in the land of dreams. At Framingham the cars stopped again, when one of the ladies asked: "Will you have time to get me a drink of water here?" The affrighted gentleman, not recognizing the music of his wife's voice, exclaimed: "By heavens, have I made a mistake? This isn't Tilly!" "No," exclaimed the lady, "and you a'nt my husband!" "Perhaps we had better change seats," exclaimed the husband in the seat immediately in the rear, who had awoke, "for there's a slight mistake here." The second lady, too much fatigued, did not awake, and as the temporary husband endeavored to shift his burden so as to move she merely ejaculated, impatiently-"Do keep still." Is IT so?-Somebody, we don't know who, and it makes no difference, thus warns young men to look out for the women : 'Young men keep your eye peeled when you are after the women! Is the pretty dress or form attractive! Or a pretty face even! Flounces, boy, are no consequence. A pretty face will grow old. Paint will wash off. The sweet smile of the first, will give way to the scowl of the termagant. The neat form will be pitched into calico. Another and far different being will take the place of the lovely goddess, who smiles sweet and eats sour candy. Keep your eye pecled, boy, when you are after the women. If the little dear is cross, and scolds at her mother in the back room, you may be sure that you will get particular fits all around the house. If she apologizes for washing dishes, you will need a girl to fan her. If she blushes when found at the wash-tub with her sleeves rolled up, be sure, sir, that she is of the codfish aristocracy, little breeding and little sense. If you marry a girl who knows nothing but to commit woman slaughter on the piano, you have got the poorest piece of music ever got up. one whose mind is right, then pitch in. hanging around like a sheep thief, as though you were ashamed to be seen in the day time, but walk up like a chicken to the dough, and ask for the article like a man.' Find Don't be The ladies are responsible for having wounded a young gentleman's feelings very much at Mr. Thackeray's lecture an evening or two ago. A young gentleman-the modest man of his sexand no less polite than modest, was sitting in a pew rather remote from the light. A lady sat next to him. Looking down on the floor during a short pause in the lecture, he espied what he thought was a lady's handkerchief, the edge just visible, and the rest covered by her dress. Thinking his pew mate had dropped it, he gallantly whispered, "I'm afraid you've dropped your handkerchief, madam," and before she could reply, he proceeded to pick it up. Horror! he had seized the edging of madame's petti-unutterable, and did not discover his mistake until the top of a gaiter boot stared him in the face, and the faint sound of a laugh just nipped in the bud by the application of a handkerchief, warned him of his mistake.-Phancy his pheelinks. MORAL.-Don't attempt to pick up anything with lace to it before you are sure of its nature. The Bangor Journal tells of a gentleman who, at the opening lecture of the Mercantile Association, was much annoyed by a beautiful young lady in the gallery near him holding a pair of small junk bottles before her eyes, during a greater portion of the evening. Sir Walter Scott wrote: "The race of mankind would perish did we cease to help each other. From the time that the mother binds the child's head, till the moment that some kind assistance wipes the death damp from the brow of the dying, we cannot exist without mutual help. All, therefore, that need aid, have a right to ask it of their fellow mortals, and no one, who has it in his power to grant, can refuse without incurring guilt." A letter from Callao, Peru, says that the prineipal business transacted there now, is in the sale of Chinese, as slaves. These men are stolen from their homes,--carried on shipboard without their consent, and all who do not die or drown them selves on the passage, are sold in Callao at the aggregate rate of $250 a head, for the nominal term of eight years- in reality for life. The sufferings of these poor Chinamen are said to be terrible. Commend us to children for pretty fancies and gems of thought. The Portland Transcript relates the following: "One of our correspondents has a bright little girl, just learning to talk, who is destined to be a poetess. Some of her pretty sayings we have already chronicled. Here is the last-a bobolink come and sang on a tree near the window. She was much delighted, and asked-"What makes he sing so sweet, mother?-do he eat flowers? As a good looking friend of ours, whose moustache is jet black and curls magnificently over his lip, was passing the residence of a couple of damsels, the following conversation is said to have been overheard: L-"I do wonder how it goes to kiss one of those creatures with a horrid moustache ?" S-"Why of course I don't know." L-"Well, I'm going to get the boot brush and try it." And she did-but we won't tell of you girls. In the Arrison trial at Cincinnati, says the Columbian, one of the gentlemen chosen as a juror, and who lives almost within a stone's throw of the place where the infernal machine exploded, stated in his examination that he "had never heard of the case;" and in this excuse for want of knowledge of what was going on, said that "he had a house rented to a lot of Irish, and they gave him so much trouble that he couldn't think of anything else." The Boston Transcript says: Wordsworth is the author of the line "The child is father of the man.' So was it, when my life began; The child is father of the man; Bound, each to each, by natural piety." "Delaware will never yield an inch to New Jersey," said a patriotic Delawarian when the pea patch case was being tried. "If she did," replied a Jersey Blue, "she would lose half her territory." "What are you about?" inquired a lunatic of a cook, who was industriously stripping the feathers from a fowl. "Dressing a chicken," answered the cook. "I should cal! that undressing," said the crazy chap in reply. The cook looked reflective. ALL ON THE BOTTOM.-"Is there much water in the cistern, Biddy ?" inquired a gentleman of his Irish girl, as she came up from the cellar. "It is full on the bottom, sir, but there is none at the top." TO CURE WARTS.-Put your mouth close to the wart, and tell it, in a whisper, that if it will not go away, you will burn it out with caustic. If it does not take the hint, be as good as your word. A Maltese offered his services a dragoman at Alexandria. "Know English well, sir," he said -"have served many English gentlemen; I'm English subject, sir; I get drunk, get drunk, sir." A down east skipper, with a boy, was trying to manage a small sloop, when a master of a Liverpool packet, who had been dodging out of the way, in censed at their awkwardness, called out:'What sloop is that?' "The Sally, from Maine,' cried the Yankee. 'Who commands her?' 'Well said the Yankee, 'I undertook to, but I swow she's too much for me.' Poetry. PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER WEEK AS A PART OF THE FOR THE COURANT. CONNECTICUT COURANT. HARTFORD, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1856. Brother, watch! that foe may come Watch then, husbands, fathers, brothers! Footprints in the Snow. BY STELLA. Merry ring the sleighbells, How the riders go! Through the ice and sleet; Eyes that brightly shine, Shivering in the snow, Makes her footprints shrinking,Winter is her foe. May God bless the children, Bless the rich and gay, Keep them all forever In his own true way. Children whose young hearts Feel the weight of sorrow Ere the youth flower starts,Put thine arms around them, While through care they go; Warm them while they're making Footprints in the snow! Jan. 15, 1856. C. H. B. FOR THE COURANT. Papists in Our Midst. Father with thy watchful eyes, Guarding well thy household loves, Guarding all thine heart doth prize With a care that nothing moves,There's a foe, with stealthy tread ! There's a foe, with winsome smile! Watch that foe has hither sped! Watch lest he your heart beguile! Mother on thy bosom lies Babe as sweet as ever slept; Watching it, are other eyes! Vigils, unlike thine, are kept! For that foe, with stealthy hand, Has won her way within your door. Mother! wake and understand! Banish her forever more! Sister with a blush of pride, Gazing on thy brother's form! Loving, stands he by thy side, With his heart so kind and warm! But that foe is gazing too, With a fascinating eye,Ah the charmer's spell is true! Lo he falls no help is nigh! Brother! leaning on thine arm, Thy sister, like a lily stands, Guileless, safe from fear of harm; Trusting in thy guiding hands. Ah! the frail, the trusting one ! Ah! the artful, treach'rous foe! Farmington, Conn. Heart and Hand. Much that we covet, and all that we need, Of pleasure, of glory, or gold, M. A. L Is ours, if our hearts and our hands are agreed The one to work out with its sinews of might, What the other has prompted, and knows to be right. Our hearts and our hands, if they only were true No hazard in life which we may not surprise, And the fortress of Fortune must open its gate, Though "crowded the world," there is room for us yet; And those who must work, should by no means forget Put the heart with the hand at the laboring oar, And Fortune, that's smiled on such efforts before, Our hearts and our hands !-oh, strengthen the will. O dreamer who buildeth air-castles so high, To see him kneeling at my feet, Jubilate I am loved So dearly loved, that till I prayed, I was more than half afraid;- Jubilate! I am loved! Lord forgive my glorifying! Just think how Adam must have stared I wish that I could do the same, Original. Individualism. NO. 3. There is a very marked tendency in the American character to obliterate the individual traits, that every son of Adam possesses, if he had the courage to show them; and to make the whole aggregate of society consist of a multitude of minds, as much like one another as one pewter spoon is like another spoon, run in the same mould. Now, we protest against this. The individual has his rights; as well as society have theirs; and that man is false to himself, unfaithful to his trust, and an infidel to his better nature, who fails to act out his idiosyncrasies-think his own peculiar thoughts -lay out his own peculiar plans; and follow them after his own peculiar way. It would seem as if some people did not know that they are themselves, and nobody else. They ought to own their owu souls. We frequently hear it said of a man, "He has not courage enough to call his soul his own." People speak as if it did not require any great courage for a man to lay claim to his own soul; but the fact is, that three quarters of society do not and dare not own their own souls. They are in somebody's charge. Such persons are not in the habit of consulting their own private judgments, as to what is right, or true; but habitually defer to the judgment of some neighbor or counsellor, who may be as wise as Solomon; and may be as ignorant as the Widow Wakeman, or Elder Sly. No matter; a large proportion of society are governed by the opinions of others; and it is very much a matter of chance, whether the directors are wise or foolish. It seems to us that the right of private judgment. for which Protestants contended so earnestly in times past, under Luther and Melancthon, should be exercised freely in a free country. And yet, it is queer, but true, that European travellers among us universally remark a want of that individualism of thought, action and life, that refreshes the most despotic regions of Europe. The greater the political despotism, the more perfect is the toleration of individuality, within its proper province. There must of course be limitations on every man's individuality. We are creatures of society; and owe duties to society, that are as binding as our duties to ourselves. But every man, while faithfully and cheerfully complying with the restrictions essential to life, in a community, may also assert his own individuality. We like to see individuality in dress; in gait and manner; in the style of our houses and gardens, and equipages. As honest Will says, "to thine own self be true! Thou canst not then be false to any man." Franklin and the Present. It is related of Dr. Franklin that once, when dining with some of the learned men in France, a bottle of wine was opened that had been preserved fifty years, and some flies were found in it, which were resuscitated upon being exposed to the sun. Franklin said that he should like to sleep, thus, fifty years, and be resuscitated to see the various changes that would have taken place in the sciences and arts-→→ in politics, and the condition of his country and the world, during that period. About eighty years have elapsed since that wish, and it would be really curious to note the changes that Franklin would see, could he now re-visit our land. The experiment of a self-governing republic has been successfully tried. The vessel of state has steered clear of the Scilla of licentious Freedom on the one hand, and the Charybdis of Despotism, on the other. Franklin trembled at the experiment.He would rejoice at its success. In no one thing would the extent of our land and the greatness of our power appear so evident as in our Postal arrangements. Dr. Franklin was once Post Master General of the Colonies, and labored hard to establish a system of internal communication through the Post Offices. He often went in his old gig to inspect the different routes. A small folio, containing three quires of paper, lasted as his account book for two years. What would he say now? Think of his attempting to examine the feasibility of all the mail routes, in his old gig now! Think of the Doctor's little account book in comparison with the three thousand large sized ledgers in constant use, and the hundred clerks employed in the Post Office Department at Washington to fill them! Probably, the mail locks and keys cost as much as the whole expenses of the Department when Franklin was at its head. Think of Franklin riding into Washington in his old gig and reviewing the Department there, with the noise of the steam whistle in his ears, and the rail cars carrying his mails, thundering past him at the rate of thirty miles an hour! Prof. Jackson's Lecture, before the Historical Society...Concluding Portion, Jan. 8. The lecturer gave a full and clear history of the life and public services of Mr. Ellsworth. The most important and interesting portion comprised the thirty years which he gave to the service of his native state and of his country after he had once entered on public life. In that long period how many and how different were the positions he occupied? And yet diverse as they were, in every one, he rose to the full measure of his office and showed himself the truly great man. Five years during the darkest period of our revolution he gave to the Continental Congress, and was acknowledged to be a master spirit in that assembly of great men. Then for five years he sat as a judge in the Supreme Court of Errors of Connecticut. In the Convention of 1787 which framed the Federal Constitution he greatly distinguished himself and to him as the leader of the representatives of the smaller states more than to any other man do we owe that feature of our government which makes us federal as well as national. Roger Sherman and Judge Paterson of New Jersey, nobly seconded his efforts, but to Ellsworth must be accorded the first place in this great struggle for equality of representation in the Senate. John C. Calhoun has said of the men to whom we are indebted for "the best government instead of the worst and most intolerable on earth."-"Their names ought to be written on brass and live for ever. I will name them. They were Chief Justice Ellsworth and Roger Sherman of Connecticut, and Judge Paterson of New Jersey." The State Convention that assembled at Hartford, Jan. 3, 1788, for the adoption of the Federal Constitution, was probably for wisdom, talent, and the importance of its discussions and issues, the most august body ever convened in. Connecticut. And of this assembly, Ellsworth was the recognized leader. He was armed at all points and his "Demosthenean energy" bore down all before it. Seven most important years were now spent in the Senate of the United States, at the period of the formation and developement of our government. Here he gave to every subject of deliberation the most thorough study and he bore a most distinguished part in its debates and acts. A single remark of Oliver Wolcott, then Secretary of the Treasury, and of course in constant intercourse with members of the Senate, shows conclusively what Ellsworth's position in that body was. With Hamilton's financial views in general he cordially agreed, but to his plan of leaving one third of the national debt unfunded for ten years he felt the strongest objections. These objections were urged by him, says Wolcott, "with that boldness and force of reason which give him a predominant influence in the Senate." In the very beginning of his Senatorial career he framed the Judiciary Act under which our whole National Judiciary has since been developed. This was a most delicate and responsible task and his success in its performance may be judged of from the fact that it has stood the test of time. Wharton in his notes to the State Trials thinks that he ought to be spoken of with peculiar reverence by the American bar, on account of our national judiciary; "for the whole edifice, organization, jurisdiction and process, was built by him as it now stands." In 1796, Washington named him Chief Justice of the United States, an office which he held about four years and a half. During one year, however, of this period, he was abroad as Envoy Extraordinary to France. On his return to America, he again accepted office as member of the State Council and Judge of the Supreme Court of Errors, the duties of which he discharged till within a short time of his death, which occurred in 1807, in his sixty-third year. In the busy whirl of our excited and changing life, the memory of even a great man soon fades from the public mind, and we think it likely that there are at present very few in this city, where Oliver Ellsworth's commanding form and features were, only fifty years ago, a familiar presence in our streets, who have any distinct conception of his character, or adequate measure of his greatness.A few simple statements of the lecturer will place his superiority as a man in a strong light. A distinguished jurist, who has seen all our Chief Justices from Jay to Taney, testifies that none has presided over that august court with a presence so commanding as was that of Ellsworth. The late Thomas Day, who was a reporter of our legal decisions, even while he was a member of the Supreme Court of Errors, used to say that "there was in Oliver Ellsworth a majesty and greatness of manner when he spoke that he never saw in any other man." The late Chief Justice Daggett, who sat with him as member of the Council, used to say that "beyond any man he ever knew Oliver Ellsworth possessed an intuitive insight into men and measures, and that he possessed in a pre-eminent degree the qualities of a statesman." Dr. Dwight, who was intimately acquainted with him, has left it on record as his own conviction that other men were irresistibly affected with a sense of inferiority whenever Ellsworth was present. And then take in connexion with this the testimony of Mrs. Samuel Hoar, a daughter of Roger Sherman, who says that she well remembers, when she went into society as a young lady in New Haven, that "Dr. Dwight took the lead in conversation in all companies where she ever met him except when Mr. Ellsworth was present, but then he became a listener." Any one who knows anything of Dr. Dwight's conversation al power will understand how much this silent homage implied. The above statements with regard to the impression which Ellsworth made on his contemporaries are specimens of the new matter which Prof. Jackson's investigations have brought to light. We will add but a single anecdote, which will be read, we are sure, with peculiar interest in this community: "While Ellsworth was a Judge in the Supreme Court of Errors of Connecticut, after he had resigned the office of Chief Justice of the U. S., an important case was to be argued. The senior counsel for the prosecution, who was a celebrated lawyer, took up his own line of argument, without even deigning to consult his junior. Nothing daunted by this act of discourtesy, though he felt it keenly, the young lawyer calmly surveyed the case, selected his points, and pursued a course of argument altogether different from that of his senior. The argument of the junior counsel made a strong impression on the Court. Not, however, being able to agree, they requested the counsel to argue the case again, when they decided it in favor of the points raised by the young lawyer without paying the slightest regard to the argument of his celebrated associate. A few days after this, Mr. Ellsworth called to see the young lawyer at his of fice, where he had never been before. On looking round the room he said, 'You have but few law books. You ought to have more. And if you do not find it convenient to buy them, it would give me pleasure to place any sum of money at your disposal.' The young man thanked Mr. E. warmly for his generous offer, which, however, he declined because he had means of his own. That young man, then unknown to fortune and to fame, Mr. Ellsworth afterwards admitted to the endeared relation of a son. Nor did he disappoint the augury which that first plea before the Court of Errors inspired, for he rose to the highest eminence at the bar and became Chief Justice of the State; and I will add that he still lives in our midst, in the calm enjoyments of a venerated and beneficent old age." FOR THE COURANT. Farmington and its First Settlers. That the first settlers of New England were in advance of their age in the principles they had imbibed and were endeavoring to inculcate respecting personal, civil, and religious liberty, will readily be conceded; but the justness and practicability of their views have been denied. We propose to look at those principles as the rule of conduct in rearing up communities of men and women, as carried out in the practice of the settlers of the town of Farmington, and its effects on their descendants.These men believed that moral instruction was necessary to the well being of any community, and that religion, as the foundation of all morals, was indispensible to build upon; hence, in the establishment of a new community, their first enquiry should be for a religious teacher, and such we find to be the conduct of these men. After providing dwellings for themselves and families we find them in communication with a man in the vicinity of Boston to become their religious teacher, and a prepar ation also for an house of worship. It is not certainly known how early this teacher settled among them, but it is believed that as soon as preparation could be made for the accommodation of Mr. Newton, the man with whom they had negotiated with for the office, he was established there in that ca pacity, as is supposed, either in 1644 or '45. Thus, within four years from the time the first blow was |