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^MISCELLANEOUS.
A lAD lfOlT.
I VMim» SC, Um How tmm Ffcysioiaa.
Ltmit 1 '! ot m*l life,—tar mm, ldptk. wills.
AU tost tbs *f tala! snaisssds
?s Ast tha Iwart« saw Imsttsta crsvsc,
A atjtto* , F.M .trtluUWr wUk sartblj toasts.
Asoxtsoos.
•A moot incongruous title” motbink* torn* arro-
I fcvorito of forlorn eiclaim*. with a scornful
'lbslip. “A physician,engaged each day
^performance of his quiet duties, can surely
i Iktle exposed to the allurements of ambition. r>
■itrtiodted so ? Is thora nothing in the pur-
_i of medical science to arouse the energies of
• soblsst minds ? Surely it is something to ex.
jn tbs bidden riches of nature, and the research
i of icienoe and bend them all to the benificant
■of alls fitting human sufferings—something to
ribs clouds of gloomy despondency from a
Joind, prostrated to the dual from sympathy
j| a diseased body—something to arrest the fleet-
^spirit when just ready to depart from iu earth,
ftaasmeot, and give the loved one to the embrace
I friends—to receive the blessing of those who
i ready to perish, and to cause "the widow’s
I to ting for joy" when the daughter who was
isuaboemof her home,or the son who wu the
yaod staff of her declining years, is restored to
■her after bops had taken its last lingering look,
allbuttbeskil'l^
jdoaedthe sufferer in utter despair. So thought
Edward Ralston as he folded in his arms his youn
r who had just been rescued from death by tit
perseveriog skill of her medical attendant. Ed
ward was a tall, awkward looking boy of fifteen.
He was the youngest of four brothers, who had all,
pt himself, left the paternal home to seek '.heir
ines in the far west. His father, a small far-
jmar in Coooeciiout, had set his heart upon this son
i\heone who should guide his tottering steps
tbs bill of life. For some years every tree
=r«=
Mil,LEDGEVlLI,E, TUESDAY. MAY 28, 1844.
NO 35-
lather, with spectacles on his nose, wae seated at a
little round table, with the Bible,a volume of Fox’s
Bouk of Martyrs, a treatise on Freedom of the
Will, and the last newspaper before him. Each
waa triad in turn, and thrown aside with an exprea-
alon of Impatience till at last with a reverend air,
he opened that bniy book, which had been hit guide
4a be toiled up the bill of file, and whose hopes and
promisee were hiasolace now that he waa Maeend.
ing the vale of years. For soma moments he
•eemed to be reading, but perhaps an acuta obser
ver would have seen that his thoughts ware far
away, even from the sacred "
closing the book,
and said in a hoarse
the sacred pages. At length,
he pushed hack bis spectacles,
• voice, which showed lhathe wu
ruggliug to subdue strong emotion.
"Ned, my fa
i bad dented or pruned, had been for hia favorite
y. The neat stone walls with wbieh his farm
lets enclosed, had been built for him—and as he
llsoksd around on the fruits of his iodusiry be
■would say to himself, these things will remind Ned
lof me when my gtey head is laid in the grave
iHitberto Edward had silently acquieeced in hie de«
|button. The capacities of his soul were yet un-
ssksosd; and secluded ae be waa from the worl j,
I hardly suspected there could be a nobler occu-
K than digging the earth for a subsistence, yet
i thoughtful, and observing of the operations
lof nature to a degree, which exposed him often to
like ridicule of his rough and boisterous school-
Imtas. Where it Ned ? would be the inquiry on
like play ground: for the kindness and gentlenesa
Icf bis name made him a universal favorite. “Oh,”
■mid a brawny, red headed fellow, “the Inst time I
Imw him he wu counting the colors on a butter
I fly’s wing, and bottling up a handful of baight look
Ijag bug. that he had been more than an hour col
llseting in the garden—and he tried to make me be
lam they were beautiful, forsooth, the simpleton.
II believe he expects to get a living by birds and but-
I tsrfliss, and bits of curious colored stone, and
I Mmigs outlandish herba and flowers; for I heard
Ikiaela father fretting about hia filling the kitchen
I garden full of them.” A loud laugh sod clapping
1 uf bands from the merry group, bore teetimony
|Uw truth of their pley fellow’s portraiture.
I 8uch bad been the pursuits of Edward’s leiaure
I hour* hitherto. His father sometimes ridiculed
I Um; but as he war obedient and industrious he
| (aurally suffered him to pursue his own course in
I quietness. But the time had now come which was
I to give coloring to his future destiny; end when
I £ wid 10 *’I will be a physician,” he fixed
I l * J* °P on 'l* 6 star which waa to guide his course
I Jr 011 *!? •' capacities and aspirations of
I Us soul which had bean a sealed fountain now burst
I forth, and tbs stream flowed sparkling on, in equal
| purity and increasing brightness, to the end of his
snort brilliant career. From this moment the em-
pjoyment of the farm became a galling slavery.
He procured, 1 know not how, some elementary
works on natural philosophy, and the structure of
tbs human frame, and over these hs pored day and
night, He soon began to make experiments in the
profession he bad chosen. Not a bruised foot or
wounded finger could be bound up without his help
•—the lame old horse who wns a faithful servant of
tbs family for fifteen years, was subjected to many
* r °P® r **' on b y Ike young enthusiast in the
j L *' ^* l k® cou 'd make him young again;
g°o*e and an unlucky sheep who had
snen a broken leg, afforded fine opportunities for
the display of hia new powers. While hie expert-
■sett were confined to euch cases, his father on-
T *8 ,r iet with the patience of a martyr ;
Jaoogh hs had sometimes muttered between his
teeth that he believed Ned was going crazy. But
Wuckily au epidemic among the sheep gave the
" e *otoe ■» opening for skill in the Materia
■•wca. Six of his patients scan rested from
cares and sorrows, and the patience of his
touch enduring father was buried In the same grave
“There Ned,” he exclaimed in wrath
Muey witnessed the dying struggle of the sev-
Ifath, “tske your books and be a doctor, and then if
,r ® «>ul» enough to lake your drugs, the siaJs
J~* r °*° i but for thaee poor innocent dumb
"••to, ‘ will not lei them auflar for your learning.
Ned • pale face grew yet paler, and his full
■*•* •?" looked m if they would start from their
rackets at this mortifying rebuff. But he stole
10 Ws little chamber, and aoon loot ilia memo.
»y of his defeat in speculations on the cause why
so highly recommended for men
I oat prove equally salutary for sheep. In the
fT*to»ghe seated himself as usual by the blight
T^kao fire. His mother whose face beamed the
11 y ?P* rlt °f kindoaaa. pursued bar knitting quiet-
| V1 'bough N4d thought aha now and than cat
•toueasnally aorrowful glance toward him. Hia
■fdtofa wheat delicate frame tod lovely,
tetslligext conoiosinco, suited ill with the homely
"«o, wm oestled oloao by her side, arranging
Jba taata of a painter the various colors orhor
W *•* bod-Quilt," and often lookioc frees bar
wsd ea
, His
xed, my boy, I believe your heart is not here
in your old father’s home, and our little form as it
used-to lie.”
Ned tried to answer, but hie tongue wns palsied,
and refused to move.
“Weil my boy, 1 tee how it is ; you want to bo
puahiug your way upwards io the world.' God
knows 1 have apeut many a weary day and night
for my boya, and I hoped for one of you. to watch
over me and your old mother, when we are chil
dren again. But I never yet tied the hand of my
boya. If you want to try your skill with the rest
in swimming on the current of life, why then go.
“■140111116 your mother and 1 can do for you, but
that little you shall have, and our blessings loo.”
He pauaed, and a slight twitching around the
mouth of the stern seeming, but kind hearted old
man, alone told wlial a struggle it cost him to give
up the cherished hopes of years. The mother si.
lently wiped a tear from her eye; and Ned af
ter many attempts to speak, finally articulated t
"Father you ahali never be ashamed of me,” and
then retreated to his own room to give vent to hit
full heart. And now the way was cleared before
him, and he proudly threw back the black hair
which hung in manes over his broad forehead, and
said, I will be something or nothing—I will rise in
tha world, or—I will not live to be taunted with my
fall.
Ha aoon placed himself under the care of the
parish minister, a man of polished mind, though un
pretending manners, who yet cherished a love for
literature and classic lore. He possessed a well
furnished library, to which the young soholar had
free access, and while the noble, and the learned of
aneient days passed before his mind's eye, he form
ed that high standard of intellectual and moral ex
cellence, which he ever afterward pursued with un
abated action. Here, too, while poring over the
•ongs of the olden bards, was awakened that deep
enthusiastic love of the beautiful, and that intenae
thirst for perfection in hi* pursuits, which is ever
the concomitant of high genius. When his thoughts
turned aside from the one purpose to which his high
est energies were devoted, he luxuriated in the
dreams of loveliness such as exist only in the fanoy
of the poet. But all these imaginigs were buried
in the recesaes of his own bosom, no kindred spir
it had awakened the sympathiea of his soul. His
books were his world, and he shrunk with the in
stinctive delicacy of an imaginative and gifted
mind from all communion with the uncongenial be
ings by whom he was surrounded. The prepara
tory college studies were mastered with a rapidity
which astonished his teacher, and drew from him
many a fond prediction of future eminence Alas!
he knew not that ha was thus fanning the flame
which waa to consume him.
His college life wrought a wonderful change in
the eileot reduce. He found there thoie who
could undentand and aympathize with him; and
from tha ahy, awkward hoy he became an intelli
gent, noble looking young man. Yet their waa
then a careworn look, which to a prnctiied eye,
told of midnight vigils by the pale light—of hours
•tolen from needful dumber to explore the exhaust,
less mines of intellectual wealth, which were then
opened to hia enraptured gaze. The day when he
left his Alma Mater was a proud day for him. He
left with the highest honors; and his father and
young sister were to hear the rapturous plaudits
which his performance called forth. The old cler.
gyman, who was here, and the applause of others
was unheard when the young student saw his face
light up with an exulting smile, and then behold
him brush the unbidden tear from his eye. "Were
you satisfied with me,” he whispered to the delight
ed old mao, aa they dispersed among the crowd.
“Yes, i was proud of you ; but remember my boy,
that earthly honors will not purchase a seat in hea.
ven. Don’t make fame your idol, and worship it,
for you will find it but a faithless friend upon a
deathbed'" “1 know it well my dear sir” here-
lied—"I will remember your advice, and seek a
icavenly treasure—but now—I must pressforward
—I cannot pause now to think of eternity. When
my profession I tha-
JM, and then I will follow your kind counsel-” Oh,
how many a young heart has thus silenced the whis
pers of conscience, and lulled their aouls asleep
with the vain hope that the time would come when
they should be satisfied with wealth, or fame, or
pleasure, and be ready to turn their thoughts to
ward heaven. Did they but know that it is at
Bethesda’s fountain alone that the heart can find
rest, or the fevered longings of the deathless mind
can be allayed, they would not turn scornfully and
ungratefully from the voice of heavenly compas
sion which says, If any man thirst, let him come
to me end drink. * * *
The traveller who is passing through Vermont is
arrested in his course by the beautiful situation of
a little village, on a high awell of land two miles
from the Connecticut. In the aspect of the hamlet
itself there ia nothing remarkable. A few nest,
3 uiet looking dwellings are dispersed around a ver-
ant square ; while the ample church, which opens
the unpolished exterior of many of his pariahlouare. and struggling for years to obtain. Tam like that
Perhaps scenery by which they were surrounded child,” he continued, pointing to a little girl who
was uot without influence upon their minds and waa forming a boquet of flower*, "see, she has
hearts. just graspod a—-a”—he paused, and pressed lus
They who habitually look upon nature in her
loveliness and grandeur, especially if they have
been taught to *e# in tha wonder* of ereatioo the
tha hand unerring wisdom united with untiring love*
and infinite power, can hardly become enslaved by
tha base and degrading passions of our nature.—
Tha Connecticut fluwed beneath them bordered
by meadow* which rivalled in beauty and fertility
tha vale of Tempo; the curtain of mist which hung
over it in the morning, wav festooned in ten thou
sand fantastic shapes along the side* of the lichty
wooded hillf, now hiding, row revealing to view,
some deep glen or some quiet cottage aoene, and
lighted up by the rising tun, reflected the gorgeoua
hue* of tne rainbow ; while far away into the dis
tance, the While Mountains, rising high toward
heaven, carried the thought* to Him, who dwelleth
in light unapproachable.
Here young Ralston commenced hi* profession
al career. There was no rival to obstruct his path
for his superior powers and profound knowledge in
his vicinity. For a time his progress wm gradual,
and while needful slumber was allowed, and the
Sabbath could be to him a day of rest, he bore op
against the anxiety which hi* sensitive mind en
dured when he felt the live* of other* entrusted to
hi* care. He was constant in the house of prayer,
and there the overtasked brain, turned to yet high
er and nobler themes, oould rest from the deprera-
ing and exhausting toils of the week. Ob, tha
8abbath is indeed one of Heaven’s best gifts to
man ; not less necessary is its holy rest to the cul
tivated intellect and the polished mind, thsn to him
who eats his bread in the sweat of his brow.—
Then in the house of worship in the presence of the
great benificent Parent, of all petty rivalries of
literary strife are forgotten, the aspirations of ambi-
lion are hushed, and the soul feels the nothingness
of earthborn cares and hopes when placed in com
petition with the interests of uternity.
But soon with success came an increase of la
bor end anxiety—labors more exhausting, anxie
ties more depressing, because the best feelings of
his mind were nil enlisted in the profession he had
chosen. And now fame began to breathe its se
ductive music ia his ear, Not in the coarse notes
of flattery from which a delicate mind shrinks in
stinctively ; but it came
"Likeths perfumei on the wind
Which none may may or bind”—
in the half muttered "God bless you” of the mo
ther who clasped again to her bosom her little one,
that seemed to her a* one raised from, the dead—in
the respectful look and kindly words of the uncul
tivated tiller of the soil, a homage whose sincerity
could not be questioned—in the eloquent though
brief acknowledgements of the richly eudowed and
polished mind from which he had lifted the pall of
despondency and gloom, cast over the soul by a
diseased body ; and in the soft though fervent tone*
of woman’s gratitude which sounded sweet in bis
ears as hi* gentle sister’s voice. Thus lured on ■
ward, he paused not in his career; pressing on
and reaching forward to yet higher distinctions with
out aonciousneas that he needed rest- His pro.
fessional cases and duties absorbed his whole soul.
He formed none of those kind and gentle ties which,
by dividing the thoughts and awakening the affec.
tions, tend to silence the clamors of ambition, which
ever cries "give, give !” No wife welcomed hie
return to the domestic fireside, no little ones clung
fondly around him, a boarding houso was his home,
and when rest and relaxation were in his power,
books were his only resource. But the softening
hand upon hiv brow—“oh, 1 cannot remember the
name—what is that flower which is surrounded
with thorns I”
"A rots f” inquired hi* companion.
"Yes, yes—a rose ; she ha* just grasped a beau,
tiful rote, but the leaves have all fallen at her touch,
and the thorns have wounded her hand. But how
strange I could not remember a name so perfeotly
familiar to my memory. The truth Is," he conlin-
ued In a tone of deep and melancholy foreboding,
"1 am not, 1 shall never again be what i hsvo
been. I feel that I am prostrated. At times I
think little of it—I suppose at such times all my
mind revives, so that 1 feel the extent of my weak
ness and decay, my anguiah is xuch that insensibil
ity ia preferable.”
‘•Tliie conversation was reported to some of hi*
frionds, and alarmed them. At that time Dr. Na
than Smith, whose skill and knowledge gave him a
power like intuition, was io the meridian or his
fame. A messenger was despatched for him by
Ralston’s friends, whu had no doubt his own Im-
pressioif j were correct—and that he had been in
jured by a blow upon the head. He camo and ques
tioned, and examined the sufferer; and then beck
oning the landlady out of the room, asked tier of
his former habits—of hia application—his hours
of repose ; and his appearance when perplexing
cases were uuder his care.
“I cannot tell you, Doctor," replied the old lady,
"how he seemed in other places, but 1 tell you for I
shall never forget how he looked and appeared
when my dear boy was sick a fow week* since. He
is my only child—the hope and stay of my heart
since his poor father was laid in the grave. My
own doctor was absent when he was taken of the
violent fever which has laid so many young heads
low. With a heavy iieart I sent for old Doctor K*
but Robert grow worse every hour, and in three
days his cure was pronounced hopeless—no more
could be done for him. Alt, these.were sad tidings
for mei prayed for submission, prayed that I
might be willing to give up my last earthly treasure,
and go down to my own grave alone, with no one
to wipe the cold death damps from my brow. And
1 thought 1 was willing—thought I could say from
my heart, "Not my will but thine, oh God, bo done.’
But when 1 sat down by my boy, and stroked back
his curly hair from his pale forehead, and fell that
all I could do was to moisten his parched lips, and
liatthi to his low quick breathing, oh, doctor! my
heact swelled and rose, and I thought I should suf
focate. I had sat thus by him twelve hours; lie
had not opened his eyes nor spoken, and Iliad no
hope of again hearing that voice which had been
my sweetest music. I was bending over him and
listening to his faint breathing, when 1 heard a well
known step. My heart bounded—it was my own
dear physician. But when tie opened the door a
death-like sickness come over me. "Oh Doctor,”
said I, "you are too late. Had you como yester-
day vou might have saved him, but he is dying
now. I looked up at him ; and he looked so pale,
and shrivelled, and weary I waa frighted." You
are sick yourself,” said I.
“No, no,’ he replied impatiently ; ‘what are you
doing for Robert?"
“Why, I am only welling his lips; they say he
must die.”
“Die,” he repliod, in a voice so deep and stern
that I started, ‘any body would dio so. There, take
these,’ handing me some bitter drugs, "put them in
hot water and bring them to tne immediately.”
“He then threw off his coat, and began rubbing
Rmults o» Kxtkrprise.—The two principal
psrtosrs in one of the greatest bsnking houses in
tlto world, probably the largest discounters of bills,
were both servants, in tlio outsat of thoir lives, and
blacked their employers' boots. The paper which
tltoy now discount, amounts to four hundred mil.
lions a year. Almost all their decisions, are made
by one of tlieso men, who is so fumiliar with his
business men, that ho runs o handful of acceptances
through Ilia hands, and pounces upon them in less
lime than a bank teller pays his bank notos for a
check.—The resources of the house are so vsst
that the Bunk of England lias found itself quite un-
able to dictate to them or to indulge in rivalry with
them. One of the partners, it is suid on good au
thority, is in the Imbit of giving away, from his
■hare of the profits, a hundred thousand dollars
annually.—N. Y. Jour. Com.
Hard Milkers—it is well known tlint sotno
caws, milk so hard that the labor is so severe as to
exceed the value of the milk when obtained. Wo
have seen several notices of late, on this subject, in
the papers, from different writers, and different
methods recommended of obviating the evil. One
lias proposed the introduction of a keon nurrow bla.
ded knife, to enlarge the opening of ihe leal, ami
•ays the practice lias been entirely successful.
Another says he made some pine plugs and crowd
ed into the teat holes, and let them remain about
two weeks, except when milking, and afterwards
had no troublo wiilitlio cow. Another recominonds
the insertion of a small quill, for tlto double pur
pose of enlarging the opening and drawing off tlto
milk without using the hand ; the quill to bo with
drawn at each milking.
Now wo should fear tlto result of this tampering
with the teat, the more so as a few years since we
knew a valuable cow, not a hard milker, that iiad
lost her hag from an inflnmation caused by the in-
traduction of a quill for the purpose of drawing off
the milk, to an ease-loving boy milker. The oper
ation was repoated hut a fow limes, yet the result
was fatal to the udder. Using a knife we should
apprehend, would allow the milk in most cases to
flow out ns fast as collected ; and should expect
front the'pine plug’ either a similar result, or an
inflammation.—Alb. Cul.
Influence of domestic charities were not all his t m y boy with something—I forget the nume—but I
its doors as a refuge appointed by heaven to point
iroke
the weary and the broken hearted to that home
where sorrow and sighing shall floe away ; and the
air of quiet and repose which hang a* a broad man
tle over tha scene, tell that there, if any where on
earth, every warring passion in the breast of man
should be hushed. It was there that young Ral
ston fixed his residence, among a people simple in
deed in their manners, but possessed of sufficient
intelligence to estimato and feel.
"Tbs power of iboufht.tbe mefic if the mind."
They possessed, too, that refinement and dolica
cyof feeling which results from moral culture.—
On the Sabbath, every hook, and hill, and valley
■ont out it* inhabitants, and all, from tho gray
haired patriarch down to the unconscious intent, as
sembled in tho house of prayer. Tho purifying and
softening influences of public worships were not
lost upon that unsophisticated |ieople. Their roll-
gious teacher was a man of more than ordinary in
tollectuai power. He was ardently and dovotedly
pious, and possessed that singleness of mind and
energy of purpoee which give* unlimited sway over
the mind* of other*. His people had grown up
under hit leaching—they loved and venerated him
at a father. I knew him well, for that quiet ham
let wm the residence of my maternal relatives.—
Often in my childhood and eariyyouth did I listed to
hit Instructions, and tho tones of mingled kindness
aod severity with which ha would reprove the erring
and recall tha wandering to thapathof duty, yat
ring in my ear. I remember, too. the iatalligaoca.
the scute diecrimfaaling mind, aod dolfoaey of per-
eoption which would gloan. «»t llko sunbeam*
through a mist, f«m bdndsth tho *«k|ue gnrb sod
spirit needed. The hallowing influence, the cairn,
ing as well as exalting hopes of the christain, were
strangers to his hesrt- He drank only of earth’s
troubled fountain’s, and though he had not yet
found their gall and Utterness, for life’s cup still
sparkled for him, he drank but to thirst again
and again. Somoyears thus passed away in un.
remitting labors on his part, rewarded by unrivall
ed fame within his own circle, and it was not a
narrow one.
At this period a young man of brilliant talenta
and fascinating manners, offered his sorvices aa
physician in the vicinity of Ralston; and soon after,
a severe end wide spreading epidemic called for
renewed exertions, while at the same time it a.
wakened fears that his more showy rival would
have it in his power to supplant birr. He now
knew no repose either of body or mind: The day
was spent in administering to the sick—Ihe night
in making prescriptions, and consultiug his books.
He became emaciated, and looked pale nnd care
worn. His step once firm and vigorous was now
at times alternately hurried, or feeble and unsteady;
and some, more observant than others, noticed that
he often pressed his hand upon his brow, as if
thought und recolloction cost him a painful effort.
Those nppearances were, however,only momentary.
On the contrary, there was never before a time
when his efforts and success were so brilliant.—
He seemed indeed like* being all soul, all spirit.
There was a dazzling brightness in his eye, a
quickness and vividness in his perceptions, which
inspired both admiration and awe. After a time,
a shadow of unutterable gloom would pass for a mo.
ment over his countenance, and began to whisper
to the very few friends whom he trusted, of strange
fantasies; he hinted of plots formed against
him ; and wild and groundless suspicions of his
younger rival haunted his imagination. His friends
knew not what to fear, but listened in silent wonder.
At length, after a day of intense exertion, here-
turned home at a late hour to his lodgings, and en
tering with a pale and haggard look, sunk appar
ently exhausted in a chair. "There, he has done
it at last,” he muttered in a low tone, "I have re
ceived a violent blow upon the top of my head
which knocked me off my horse. How long I lay
insensible I know not—Oh 1 there is such a weight
here,” he whispered faintly, putting his hand to
his head.
His kind heartod hostess administered such sim
ple remedies as her very limited knowledge could
supply; but he seemud sinking, wasting—and the
powers of his fine mind soemed rapidly declining.
An incident, trifling in itself, first gave his friends
to fear that the spirit which had been like a power
ful and sweet toned harp, vibrating at the slight
est touch, was now hopelessly unstrung and shatter
ed. It was a lovely evening in June. Support
ed on the arm of hit hostess" son, a young man
whose life he had saved, and in whom he felt a
deep interest, he was walking in the garden and
enjoying tho bulmy freshness of the evening air.—
The hour and the scene softened hi* heart, and re-
moved for a time the guard he habitually placed
ovei the expression of his feelings. He spoke of
his early home—of his father’s worth, of his mo.
ther’s kindness, in tones of deep emotion; and
when he named his sister, and dwelt on her deep
lendernera and love for him his voice faltered. He
then alludeded to his own history—to his brilliant
succeM—to the fame he had acquired—but, he con-
tinued t
"I have been pursuing a shadow. There ha*
been uo rest, no quiet at my heart. If 1 could but
know thsl peace which beamed in my beloved mo
ther's fsoe, when she returned to us from her sacred
hour of secret oommuoion with her God, how glad,
ly woqhj 1 lay down oil—alt 1 have been toiling
know it is very powerful; this he continued till I
brought the preparal ion he had ordered. When I
returned to the room 1 was startled at the change
in the doctor’s appearance. Ho looked no longer
pule and shrunk as before—I cannot tell you pre
ciseiy what I.thuught, but it seemed tho spirit with
in changed to another man. There was no look of
weariness, but he stood erect and firm ; his face
flushed, and his eye so bright that I shrunk from his
gaze. He now took his station by the bed-side, and
with the fingers or one hand pressed upon the pulse
of thesufferer he continued to give him, once in s
fow moments wlaal I had prepared for him. For
some time there was no change. I felt scarcely a
gleam of hope ; and there was something so strange
in the doctor’s appearance, he looked to me so, like
alright spirit that I almost left caring for my
boy in wonder and nuxiety for him. I at last ven
tured to urge him to take refreshment; but he hade
me desist in a manner so different from his usual
kiadness and gentleness toward me, that I was rea
dy to weep afresh.
‘My goi)d mother,’ said he, in atone which
seemed to c rave forgiveness for his apparent harsh,
ness,‘lean swallow nothing now. 1 have often
he continued with a smile, ‘gone without food twen
ty-faur hours, when our dear Robert’s life hangs by
a single Isair’—
"1 was *.t his bed side in a moment, and oh how
my heart beat! But the doctor put his finger on my
lip, and motioned me to be silent. Such a glad joy.
ous smile its passed over his countenance for a mo
ment as he looked at me—I shall never forget that
look—and then turning his hoad from me l saw
the tears fall drop by drop on the floor. My son is
raised from, the dead ; ho is mine again—but he
who savod 'nis life”—
"He must die,” said Dr. Smith, in a suppressed
voice. “I see plainly how It is,; there is no hope
for his owi» spirit has consumed him. The brain
has bean over.wrought—there was the only blow he
received, and lie has been in truth his own destroy
er.”
And it wns so, the remainder of his sad story is
swan told. He never recovered from that shock
There wore indeed, occasional gleams of bright
ntiM, which served only to render more dreary the
mnntal darkness that which had settled down like
m.idnight gloom over that brilliant intellect. There
rvere times when he soemed struggling with the in
cubus that weighed him down ; when he atrovo to
arrest tlto thoughts which flitted like shadows
across his mind, and when he made painful efforts
to give expression to emotions that seemed for a
moment to be struggling for utterance. But it wes
all in vain; and ia a short time even these momen
tary efforts censed. Mind and body wasted grad
ually and almost imperceptibly away, and before
the scene closed he was reduced to almost child
like imbecility. A simple monument in the village
burying ground now marks the spot where, at the
early oge of tbirty-two, Edward Ralston was 'aid
in hi* lung home.
Portland, Maine.
An Indian Duel.—Wingenund wailed until the
peechof his antagonist had been translated to
them, when he replied, with unmoved composure,
"If the Crow warriors require bettor witness than
words, it is not difficult to find. They have alrea
dy been told that Kein-na stranger gave to Mahe-
ga a present of a bow and arrows, which lie hid in
the rocks. Wingenund took them out, ami hero
they are.”
As the youth spoke, lie dropped the blanket that
had been thrown over his left arm and shoulder,
holding up to the council the bow und arrows, which
all present instantly recoguised as being made and
ornamented by the Blackfeet.
"Are the warriors yet convinced,” continued the
youth, raising his voice, “or do they wish for more?
If they do, let them seize the Waslmshc wolfe,
they will find in his belt—”
He was r,ol allowed to finish the sentence ; the
storm that had long been brooding now burst in a!!
its fury. Maltegu, driven to desperation by the
damning evidence brought against him, nnd ruck,
less of all save the gratification ofltis fierce re
venge, whirled his iron-pointed mace around his
head, and launched it with tremendous force at
Wingenund.
Nover had the latter, even for an instant, taken
his falcon eye off tlto Osugo ; hut, so swift wns tho
motion tvitli which the weapon was thrown that lie
sprang lightly asido to avoid it, the spike head
grazed and laid open his cheek, whenco it glanced
off, and striking on unlucky crow who stood behind
him, felled him with a broken arm to the ground.
Even in tho act of stooping to escapo tlie mace,
Wingenund fitted an arrow into the Black-foot bow
which he held in his hand; nnd, rising quick as
thought, let it fly at his gigantic adversary with so
true an aim, tliat it pierced the windpipe, ana tho
point came out at the back of his neck, close to tlto
spine. While the Osnge, half strangled nnd para-
lysed, lugged ineffectually at the fatal shaft, Winge
nund leaped upon him with the bound of n tiger,
and uttering aloud the war cry of tho Lcnnpc, bu
ried his knife in the heart of his foe. With one
convulsive groan the dying Osnge full heavily to
the earth, and, ero the bystanders had recovered
from their astonishment, his blood stained scalp
hung at tile belt of the victorious Dolawaro.
C. Murry's Praire Bird.
Aoe of Animals.—A bear rarely exceeds 20
years ; a dog lives twenty years ; a wolf twenty ;
n fox fourteen or sixteen ; lions are long-lived—
Pompey lived to the age of seventy years ; n squir
rel or hu re seven or eight years; rnbbitsscvcn. Ele
phants Itnvo been known to live to the grout ngo of
400 years. When Alexander tho Greullind con
quered one Porus, King of India, he look a great ele
phant which had fought valiantly for the king, and
named him Ajax, dedicated hitn to the Sun, and let
him go with this inscription, “Alexander, the son of
Jupiter, hath dedicated Ajax to tlto Sun." This ele
phant was found with this inscription 850 years af
terward. Pigs have been known to live to the ngo
of thirty years ; the rhinoceros to twenty. A
horse has been known to live to the ngo of sixty-
two, but overages twenty to thirty. Camels some
times live to the nge of one hundred. Sings urc
long-lived. Sheep seldom exceed the age of ten.
Cows live about fifteen years. Cuvier considers
it probable that whales sometimes live one thous
and years. Mr. Mnllarlon has the skeleton of a
swan that attained tho oge of two hundred years.
Policans are long-lived. A tortoise lias been known
to live to the nge of one hundred and seven.
An old clergyman, and rather an eccentric one
withal, whose field of labor was a town in the in
terior of Massachusetts one Sunday, at the close of
his Mrvices gave notice to the congregation that in
Ike course of the week, he expeclod to go on s mis
sion to the healltea. Tlto members of the church
were struck with alarm aod aorrow at tha sudden
aod unexpected announce meat of the loss of their
beloved pastor, and one of tha deacons, in great
^Ration exclaim," Why, my dear air, you have ne-
vjr told us one word of this before I What shall we
dot” "Oh, brother C,” said the parson witk the
greatest sang froid,"! don't expect to go out ol
town!’’ , -
Ghosts.—Thera is n curious case related in an
old dedicul work, of a man who was a well known
character, and a man of senso, where it was snid he
used to see s number ol'pcrsons in the room tvith
hitn. Now lie himself has described lliu wliolo
phenomenon, and all tho adjuct to it. lie hns said,
after taking a cup of coffee, or tea, they dime into
his room in great unmhers; and as he got belter,
and less nervous, ho has only seen the arms and
legs of them. This is all an irregular action of
the eyes. A gentleman sittiog in his library ono
day, rending or writing, on turning round his head,
saw, sitting in a chair a woman in n red clonk.—
He said to her,“How came you here, good woman ?
The woninn suid nothing. “What is the menuing
of your boing horn, woman ?" No answer was mude.
“You have no right to bo here—go out of the room."
She look no notice of him. lie got up and rang
the bell for his servunt. Tho seivant came in.
“Turn this woman out.” Wlial womnn, air?”
“Why the woman in a red cloak.” Tlmre’s no
woman, nor any red cloak, sir.” "Well, go and
fetch the doctor for me; tell him I am ill, and wish
to speak to him.” The man, however, wus not to
he frightened by this, because lie knew it was a
delusion of Ids sight.
A person wns remarking tbe other day. "How
very cheap every thing lias got I”
“Not evory thing,” said his friend.
“Why, wlial is not ?”
“Woman I"
"Oh, aye, i forgot—women are always dear
»*ueo the case of sound an
der proper morel influence. The wide diffiistun '
of learning under a proper rell|ioue supervision,
and the increase of the fucilitles fof acquiring use.
ful knowledge, aro vital to our syalem of sell'-gov*
ernment,
It is knowo to many of your readers dial ao eff
ort has been in progress for several years to endow
liberally a literary institution called Oglethorpe
University, at Midway, a pleasant settlement, situ,
sled on sn elevated ridge, 2} miles south of Mill—
cdgevijle, the Seat of Government of Georgia,
The site was selected from its long dewrvea re-
potation for health, end its centrality and access).
bleness from all parts of the Southern and South
Western States. The institution is under the gen
eral supervision of the Presbyterian Church, but is
designed to be liberal in it* administration. Itia
modeled very much on the plan of Princeton Col
lege, and to be endowed in tho same way. It em.
bracos a very comprehensive couree, including an
Academy with an English and Classical department,
an I a thorough College courts.(There is also be
tween the College and Milledgeville a thriving Fe-
malo Academy of high order under admirable reg
ulations.) The College 1ms been in successful op.
oration on a limited scale for several years, and
has secured the confidence of the enlightened men
of the state. It is now proposed to enlarge Its
board of instruction by the addition of a Carolina
Professorship and also of an Alabama Professorship.
In the loiter State a spirited effort is in progress to
endow a Professorship, nnd Rev. T. S. Wither
spoon is Professor elect, who is expected toon to
take his Chair in the Faculty. W. P. Findly, Esq ;
a omive uf this City, has been appointed Carolina
Professor, and his uppointment meets with univer
sal satisfaction. The Board of Trustees are de.
pendent on the liberality of the publio to secure the
endowment. Considerable progress has been made
within a fow weeks towards its completion. It on.
ly needs a few benevolent men to set a liberal part,
and the success of tho project will be beyond the
hazard of a failure. To the enlightened of the
community and to tho liberal friends of ed.
uculion the Trustees are looking for coun
tenance and patronage,and they are fullycon-
lident that their appeal will not be made in vain.
The South has been munificent in past times in
aiding to endow Northern Colleges, and especially
Princeton, and will she be backward in building a
Southern Princeton within our own borders? A
friendly and an honorable rivalry between liberal
institutions will only tend to increase the number
of well educated men, and to stimulate the differ,
ent institutions to those improvments which will
elovuto the slnndurd—whilst it will tend to promote
tlto great object of training the rising generation of
our land for the responsible parts they aro soon to
occupy in wielding the destinies of this mighty na
tion—and prepare them to be instrumental in trnns-
nitting our glorious heritage to future ages and
distant nations.
_ PHILANTHROPOS.
Curious Relics.—Among the relics of the Histo
rical Society at New Haven, Ct., there is a cuno
manufactured from tho root of the tree on which
tho Salem witches were hung; the old oak chest
formerly in tlto possession of the family of Aaron
Burr; tlto arm chuir of Roger Williams, the camp
stool of the Ptuvorend Colonel Elisha Williams,
once President of the Yale College General Put
nam’s old tavern sign, with a portrait of Gen. Wolfe
planted thereon ; a part of tbe keel of Capl. Cook’s
old ship ‘Endeavor,’ that pased round the world,
nnd finally onded lior days at Newport, R.I.; tho
basket und glass found with Capt. Nathan Hale,
who was hung by the British,on Long band, as a
spy, during the revolution, as a retaliation for the
death of Andre; and last,but not least, tbt:.order
book of a British Adjutant, containing the “ardors”
"f Ihe British army on the day of the memorahlo
battle of Bunker Hill, ono sheet of which was
stained and stamped, for eternal endurauce, with a
drop—a single drop of human blood !
Prospects of the Wheat Crop.—If there be
not n larger wheat crop in the United States this
yeur, or in tho West at any rate, titan over before,
wu shall hu disappointed. In our rambles through
Illinois, Wisconsin, nnd Indiana, we have seen and
been informed that more wheat was sown last full
than usual; nnd almost without exception, so far
us we have been ablo to loam, it has been uninjur
ed by tho winter. The early opening of spring will
hasten its growth so that there will be little danger
from rust, und this living the chief cause of fear for
wheat in this region, wo think tlto prospect is good
for a large crop. Several of our correspondents,
writers from Wisconsin, and southern and central
Illinois, coincide with these views.
From inquiry we do not think there was quite as
much sown in control and southern Illinois us last
year ; but probably more than any previous year
whem tho crop hus not been cut off. The seasoti
lias been so favourable that an unusual amouut of
spring wheat has been got in. If no eulamity falls
upon the crop, next harvest will be a busy season.
—Prairie Former.
Flowrrs anu Shrubs.—Why does not every
lady who can afford it, have a geranium or some
other flower in Iter window ? It is very cheap—its
cheapness is next to nothing, if you raise it from
seed; or from u slip ; und it is a beauty and n com.
panion. It was remarked by Leigh Hunt, that it
sweetens tlto air, rejoices the eye, links you with
Nature, und is something to love. And if it can.
not love you in return, it cannot Imic you ; it can
not utter a hateful thing, even if you neglect it, for,
though it is all beauty, it hath no vanity ; and such
living the case, and living ns it does, purely to do
you good nnd afford you pleasure, how will you he
ahlo to neglect it? Wo receive in imagination the
scent of these good-natured leaves, which allowed
you to carry ofl'thoir perfume on your fingers ; for
good-natured they are, in that respect, above all
other plants, and fitted for the hospitality of our
room. Tho very feel of the leaf hus a household
warmth in it—something analogous to clothing and
comfort.
This is the season for transplanting trees. We
ure aware that there are somo things to discourage
Ihe farmer in relution to his orchards : but persc-
vero. There is hardly an outlay that will pay bet
ter ; und let it be remembered by the man who is
looking forward to planting an orchard some day,
lliul its postponement for a twelvemonth, is years,
so lar as respects this part of Ilia plans, irrecovera
bly lost.—Funner's Cabinet.
Bad Air in Wells.—Never go down into a
well wilicli has been any lime out of use; or if it ba
deep, without trying tho nir in it. This may be
done by lowering u lighted candle—if it burns,
there is no danger; but if it goes out the air is bad,
and death would be tbe consequence of venturing
into it. It is said that the air may be speedily cor
rected by putting into the well—say from a half
bushel to u bushel of quick lime, which will absorb
the acid gas—the agent alike deleterious to com
fort and respiration.
Ghosts.—Tom Hood, tho prince of English wits,
talks about ghosts in the foilwing facetious and fu
miliar munner:
“Ghosts bo hanged ! No such things in nature;
all laid long ago, before the wood pavement.—
What should they come fur? for reform, and Joseph
-Sturge may rise, an ! rising generation may rise,
but lliut tho deud should rise, only to muke one’s
hair riso is more than I can credit. Suppose your
self s ghost. Well, if you como out of llie grave
to serve a friend, how are you to help him T and
if it’s sit enemy, what's the um of appearing to him
if you can’t pilcli into him.”
Pulse or the Elephant.—la a healthy animal
die pulse boats 34 strikes in a minute.