AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
347 
latiou of man’s salvation, search the Scriptures, 
for they are they which testify of these things. 
Stick to Some one Pursuit. —There cannot 
be a greater error than to be frequently chang¬ 
ing one’s business. If any man will look 
around and notice who have got rich and who 
have not, out of those he started in life with, 
he will find that the successful have generally 
stuck to some one pursuit. 
Two lawyers, for example, began to practise 
at the same time. One devotes his whole mind 
to his profession, lays in slowly a stock of legal 
learning, and waits patiently, it may be for years, 
till he gains an opportunity to show his superi¬ 
ority. The other, tiring of such slow work, 
dashes into politics. Generally, at the end of 
twenty years the latter will not be worth a 
penny, while the former will have a handsome 
practice, and count his tens of thousands in 
bank stock or mortgages. 
Two clerks attain a majority simultaneously. 
One remains with his former employer, or at least 
in the same line of trade, at first on a small sal¬ 
ary, then on a larger, until finally, if he is mer¬ 
itorious, he is taken into partnership. The other 
thinks it beneath him to fill a subordinate posi¬ 
tion, now that he has become a man, and ac¬ 
cordingly starts in some other business on his 
own account, or undertakes a new firm in the 
old line of trade. Where does he end? Often 
in insolvency, rarely in riches. To this every 
merchant can testify. 
A young man is bred a mechanic. He ac¬ 
quires a distaste for his trade, however; thinks 
it a tedious way to get ahead, and sets out for 
the West or for California. But in most cases, 
the same restless, discontented, and speculative 
spirit which carred him away at first, renders 
continuous application at any one place irksome 
to him; and so he goes wandering about the 
world, a sort of semi-civilized Arab, really a 
vagrant in character, and sure to die insolvent. 
Meantime his fellow apprentice, who has staid 
at home, practising economy, and working stead¬ 
ily atr his trade, has grown comfortable in his 
circumstances, and is even perhaps a citizen of 
mark. 
There are men of ability, in every walk of 
life, who are notorious for never getting along. 
Usually it is because they never stick to any 
one business. Just when they have mastered 
one pursuit, and are on the point of making 
money, they change it for another, which they 
do not understand ; and, in a little while what 
little they are worth is lost forever. We know 
scores of such persons. Go where you will, 
you will generally find that the men who have 
failed in life are those who have never stuck to 
one thing long. — Philadelphia Ledger. 
Cowes. —Doubtless it is £!axe, the humerous 
and always-ready poet, who, on hearing that 
Queen Victoria had again honored the Isle of 
Wight by selecting her wet-nurse from Cowes, 
wrote as follows: 
“ Why now,” says Roger, says he, 
“ ’Tis a thing that Nature allows, 
He being a young Johnny Bull, d’ye see, 
Must of course get his nursing from Cowes /” 
- • • • - - 
Joshua and the Sun and Moon. — Long after 
Washington’s victories over the French and 
English had made his name familiar to all Europe, 
Dr. Franklin had chanced to dine with the Eng¬ 
lish and French embassadors, when as nearly 
as can be remembered, the following toasts 
were drunk: 
By the English Embassador: 
“ England— -The Sun, whose bright beams 
enlighten and fructify the remotest corners of 
the earth.” 
The French Embassador, glowing with na¬ 
tional pride, but too polite to dispute the “ pre¬ 
mises” of the previous toast, drank: 
“France — The Moon, whose mild, steady, 
and cheering rays are the delight of all nations, 
consoling them in the darkness, and making 
even their dreariness beautiful.” 
The American Embassador, Dr. Franklin, 
then rose, and, with his usual simplicity, said : 
“George Washington — The Joshua who 
commanded the Sun and Moon to stand still, 
and they obeyed him!” 
-- 1 • •-- 
A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 
The thoughts contained in the eusuing beau¬ 
tiful lines will often suggest themselves to stran¬ 
gers treading the thoroughfares of a great city, 
amidst the multitudes “ that no man can num¬ 
ber,” the “ leagues of light” at night, and the 
“roaring of the wheels:” 
“ Where, where are all the birds that sang 
A hundred years ago ? 
The flowers that all in beauty sprang 
A hundred years ago ? 
The lips that smiled, 
The eyes that wild 
In flashes shone 
Soft eyes upon: 
Where, O where are lips and eyes, 
The maiden’s smiles, the lover’s sighs, 
That lived so long ago ? 
“Who peopled all the city streets 
A hundred years ago ? 
Who filled the church, with faces meek, 
A hundred years ago ? 
The sneering tale 
Of sister frail; 
The plot that worked 
A brother’s hurt: 
Where, 0 where are plots and sneers, 
The poor man’s hopes, the rich man’s fears, 
That lived so long ago ?” 
There is no answer save the foot-falls of the 
crowd, “like the low murmuring of the sea.” 
THE YOUTH THAT WAS HUNG. 
The sheriff took out his watch, and said, “ If 
you have any thing to say, speak now, for you 
have only five minutes to live.” The young 
man burst into tears and said :—I have to die— 
I had only one little brother; he had beautiful 
blue eyes and flaxen hair, and I loved him; but 
one day I got drunk, for the first time in my 
life, and coming home, I found my little brother 
gathering strawberries in the garden, and I be¬ 
came angry at him without a cause, and killed 
him at one blow with a rake. I did not know 
any thing about it until the next morning, when I 
awoke from sleep, and found myself tied and 
guarded, and was told that when my little brother 
was found, his hair was clotted with his blood 
and brains, and he was dead. Whiskey has 
done this. It has ruined me. I never was drunk 
but once. I have only one more word to say, 
and then I am going to my final Judge. I say 
it to young people. Never! Never! Never!! 
touch any thing that can intoxicate.” As he 
pronounced those words, he sprang from the 
box, and launched into an endless eternity. 
I was melted into tears at the recital, and the 
awful spectacle. My little heart seemed as if it 
would burst, and break away from my aching 
bosom, so intolerable were my feelings of grief. 
And there in that carriage, while on that cush¬ 
ioned seat, looking with streaming eyes on the 
body of that unfortunate young man, as it hung 
dangling and writhing between heaven and earth, 
as unfit for either place, there it was I took the 
pledge never to touch the hurtful poison. 
Long years have since passed away. White 
hairs have thickened around these temples, then 
so ruddy and so young, but I never have forgot¬ 
ten the last words of that young man. And I 
never violated that pledge. When the tempter 
has offered to me the sparkling goblet, the words 
of that young man have seemed to sound in 
my ear again.— Old Man's Story. 
Politeness is a coin destined to enrich not 
him who receives, but him who expends it. 
PLAYING WITH CHILDREN, 
Country life’s opportunity to cultivate inti¬ 
macy with children, seems to me a very impor¬ 
tant, as well as agreeable advantage over life in 
the city. To be a able to get out any moment 
in the day when most convenient, and join a gay 
and loving little troop, and take share in their 
work or play, unobserved by all eyes, is prefer¬ 
able to an opera, I think, as a relaxation from 
care and as a pleasure within reach. And there 
is fresh air with it and exercise ; while its time¬ 
liness makes it serviceable to health. But the 
degree to which a man lives a stranger to his 
children, without it,—neither understanding 
their minds nor their dispositions—can hardly 
be understood by those who have lived only in 
the city :—There is no charm for the child, like 
the presence of a person who takes an interest 
in his play ; and he loves and opens his nature 
to those what do so, as he loves and is frank 
with nothing else. To enter into the excite¬ 
ment of his occupations, and to listen and reply 
with habitual familiarity and earnestness to his 
questioning and impartings, is to link his soul 
with you by an every day strengthening of affec¬ 
tion, like the growing of a branch upon a tree. 
With his memories of these days—all golden 
and treasured—the parent who is the kindly 
companion out of doors is thus inseparably inter¬ 
woven. Nature ordained such to be the inter¬ 
course between parent and child. 
And while to daily life this gives a charm and 
hallowing influence, it plants a flower of affec¬ 
tion that will bloom when old age needs its frag¬ 
rance of respect and tenderness.— Willis. 
How a Coat was Identified. —In a justice’s 
court in Boston, a case was recently decided in 
a novel way : A coat was in dispute, and the 
evidence was direct and positive for both claim¬ 
ants ; the parties were Irish, and full of grit, read} 7 
to spend all they had rather than to give up beat. 
The affair had.been carefully examined, and the 
court was in a “quandary,” not knowing who 
had the best claim to the garment. However a 
moment before his honor was to sum up the ev¬ 
idence, Patrick Powers, one of the claimants, 
made the following proposition for settling 
the affair. Patrick said : 
“ Timothy Sullivan, now you say that coat be¬ 
longs to yourself intirely. I say it is my own. 
Now mind ye, Timothy, that both iv us will 
take the coat an’ look it all over, an’ the man 
that finds his name on it shall be the owner.” 
“ Done,” said Timothy. 
“ An’ ye’ll stick to the bargain ?” said Patrick. 
“To be sure,” answered Timothy, and “yes,” 
replied the counsel on both sides. 
“ Thin look at it,” said Patrick, as he passed 
the coat into the hands of Timothy,' who vainly 
searched every part of it for his name, and pas¬ 
sed it to Patrick, boastingly saying. 
“ An’ now let us see if you can be findin’ the 
likes of your name on the garment,” 
“ Ye’ll stick to the ’grement,” said Patrick, 
eagerly grasping the coat. 
“Upon the honor ova man,” replied Timothy. 
“Then hould on a bit,” said Patrick, as he 
drew a knife and opened a corner in the collar 
of the'eoat, taking therefrom two very small peas, 
exclaiming as he held them in his hand “ there, do 
you see that ?” 
“Yes, but what iv that?” said Timothy. 
“Adivil a dale it has to do wid it—it’s me name 
to be sure—pea for Patrick, and pea for Pow¬ 
ers, be jabers 1” 
He got the coat, amid roars of laughter. 
-- 
Brains vs. Money. —Not long since, an East¬ 
ern man while on his way to Boston, was stop¬ 
ped on the highway by a robber, and requested 
to hand over his money, or have his brains 
blown out. 
“ 0 said the traveler quietly, “ blow away, 
blow away; it’s better go to Boston without 
brains than without money.” 
