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Rural Life in Cuba. 
From R. H. Dana’s new book, “To Cuba and 
Back,” we derive the following picture: 
As we leave Matanzas, we rise on an ascending 
grade, aDd the bay and the city lie open before us. 
The bay is deep on the western shore, under the 
ridge of the Curabre, and there the vessels lie at 
anchor; while the rest of the bay is shallow, and 
its water, in this state of the sky and light, is of a 
pale green color. The lighters, with sail and oar, 
are plying between the quays and the vessels be¬ 
low. All is pretty, and quiet, and warm, but the 
scene has nene of those regal points that so im¬ 
press themselves upon the imagination and mem¬ 
ory in the surroundings of Havana. 
I am now to get my first view of the interior of 
Cuba. I could not have a more favorable day. 
The air is clear, and not excessively hot. The 
soft clouds float midway in the serene sky, the 
sun shines fair and bright, and the luxuriance of 
a perpetual summer covers the face of nature. 
These strange palm-trees everywhere! I cannot 
yet feel at home among them. Many of the other 
trees are like our own, and, though tropical in 
fact, look to the eye as though they might grow 
as well in New England as, here. But the royal 
palm looks so intensely and exclusively tropical! 
It cannot grow beyond this narrow belt of the 
earth’s surface. Its long, thin body, so straight 
and so smooth, swathed from the foot in a tight 
bandage of gray canvas, leaving only its deep- 
green neck, and over that its crest and plumage 
of deep-green leaves! It gives no shade, and 
bears no fruit that is valued by man. And it has 
no beauty to atone for those wants. Tet it has 
more than beauty—a strange fascination over the 
eye and the fancy, that will never allow it to be 
overlooked or forgotten. The palm-tree seems a 
kind of lusus naturco to the northern eye — an 
exotic wherever you meet it. It seems to be con¬ 
scious of its want of usefulness for food or shade, 
yet has a dignity of its own, a pride of unmixed 
blood and royal descent—the hidalgo of the soil. 
What are those groves and clusters of small 
growth, looking like Indian corn in a state of 
transmigration into trees, the stalk turning into 
a trunk, a thin soft coating half changed to bark, 
and the ears of corn turning into melons! Those 
are the bananas and plantains, as their bunches 
of green and yellow fruits plainly enough indicate, 
when you come nearer. But that sad, weeping 
tree, its long, yellow-green leaves drooping to the 
ground! What can that be? It has a green fruit 
like a melon. There it is again, in groves! I in¬ 
terrupt my neighbor’s tenth cigaritto, to ask him 
the name of the tree. It is the cocoa! And that 
soft green melon becomes the hard shell we break 
with a hammer. Other trees there are, in abund¬ 
ance, of various forms and foliage, but they might 
have grown in New England or New York, so far 
as the eye can teach us; but the palm, the cocoa, 
the banana and plantain are the characteristic 
trc«s you could not possibly meet with in any 
other zone. 
Thickets—jungles I might call them—abound. 
It seems as if a bird could hardly get through 
them; yet they are rich with wild flowers of all 
forms and colors—the white, the purple, the pink 
and the blue. The trees are full of birds of all 
plumage. There is one like our brilliant oriole. 
I cannot hear their notes for the clatter of the 
train. Stone fences, neatly laid up, run across 
the lands—not of our cold, bluish-gray granite, 
the color, as a friend once said, of a miser’s eye, 
but of soft, warm brown and russet, and well 
overgrown with creepers and fringed with flowers. 
There are avenues, and here are clumps of the 
prim orange tree, with its dense and deep-green 
polished foliage gleaming with golden fruit. Now 
we come to acres upon acres of the sugar-cane, 
looking at a distance like fields of overgrown 
broom-corn. It grows to the height of eight or 
ten feet, and very thick. An army could be hid¬ 
den in it. This soil must be deeply and intensely 
fertile. 
There, at the end of an avenue of palms, in a 
nest of shade trees, is a group of white buildings, 
with a sea of cane-fields about it, with one high 
furnace-chimney, pouring out its volume of black 
smoke. This is s sugar plantation—my first sight 
of an ingenio; and the chimney is lor the steam 
works of the sugar-house. It is the height of the 
sugar season, and the untiring engine toils and 
smokes day and night. Ox-carts, loaded with 
cane, are moving slowly to the sugar-house from 
the fields; and about the house, and in the fields, 
in various attitudes and motions of labor, are the 
negroes—men, women and children—some cutting 
the cane, some loading the carts, and some tend¬ 
ing the mill and the furnace. It is a busy scene 
of distant industry, in the afternoon sun of a lan¬ 
guid Cuban day. 
Now these groups of white one-story buildings 
become more frequent, sometimes very near each 
other, all having the same character — the group 
of white buildings, the mill, with its tall furnace- 
chimney, and the look of a distillery, and all dif¬ 
fering from each other only in the number and 
extent of the buildings, or in the ornament and 
comfort of shade trees and avenues about them. 
Some are approached by broad alleys of the palm, 
or mango, or orange, and have gardens around 
them, and stand under clusters and shade-trees; 
while others glitter in the hot sun, on the flat sea 
of cane-fields, with only a little oasis of shade 
trees and fruit trees immediately about the house. 
I now begin to feel that I am in Cuba—in the 
tropical, rich, sugar-growing, slave-tilled Cuba. 
The Poetry of Nature. 
Wiiat is it that imparts to Nature its poetry? 
It is not in Nature itself; it resides not either in 
dead or organized matter, in rock, or bird, or 
flower; “the deep saith it is not in me, and the 
sea saith it is not in me.” It is in the mind that it 
lives and breathes; external nature is but its 
storehouse of subjects and models, and it is not 
until these are called up as images, and invested 
With “ the light that never was on land or sea,” 
that they ceased to be of the earth earthly, and 
from the ethereal stuff of which the visions of 
tbe poet are made. Nay, it is not mainly through 
that associative faculty to which the sights and 
- — K —, - 
MY NATIVE HILLS. 
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1 . My na - tive hills are dear to me: Each val - ley and each stream, Each old gnarled oak, each spreading tree, Like well known friends do seem 
2. Each sha - dy nook, each moss-grown rock, Round where the pathway leads; The pas - ture where the fleecy flock In quiet safe - ty feeds. 
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3. The foam - ing ca - ta - ract, whose roar In ceaseless stunning noise. 
4. Whilst me - m’ry car - ries me once more To plea - sures that have gone. 
But brings my mind to think the more Of home, and all its joys. 
I sigh to think those days are o’er, And ne - ver can re - turn. 
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5. Yet still 
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I love my na - tive hills, And shall where’er I 
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roam; The mountain streams, the murm’ring rills, And my own happy home! 
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sounds of present nature become suggestive of 
the images of a nature not present, but seen within 
the mind, that the landscape pleases, or that we 
find beauty in its woods or beside its streams, or 
the impressive and the sublime among its moun¬ 
tains and rocks? Nature is avast tablet inscribed 
with signs, each of which has its own significancy, 
and becomes poetry in the mind when read; and 
geology is simply the key by which myriads of 
the signs, hitherto undecipherable, can be unlocked 
and perused, and thus a new province added to 
the poetical domain. We are told by travelers that 
the rocks of the wilderness of Sinai are lettered 
over with strange characters, inscribed during 
the forty years’ wanderings of Israel! They tes¬ 
tify, in their very existence, of a remote past, 
when the cloud - o’ershadowed tabernacle rose 
amid the tents of the desert; and who shall dare 
say whether to the scholar who could dive into 
their hidden meanings they might not be found 
charged with the very songs sung of old by Moses 
and by Miriam, when the sea rolled over the pride 
of Egypt ? To the geologist every rock bears its 
inscription, engraved in ancient hieroglyphic char¬ 
acters that tell of the Creator’s journeyings of 
old, of the laws which He gave, the tabernacles 
which He reared, and the marvels which He 
wrought—of mute prophecies wrapped up in type 
and symbol—of earth gulfs that opened, and of 
reptiles that flew—of fiery plagues that devastated 
the dry land, and of hosts more numerous than 
that of Pharoah, that “sank like lead in the 
mighty waters;” and, having, in some degree, 
mastered the occult meanings of these strange 
hieroglyphics, we must be permitted to refer, in 
asserting the poetry of our science, to the sublime 
revelations with which they are charged, and the 
vivid imaginery which they conjure up.— Asays 
by the late Hugh Miller. 
Books Received. 
Tub French Revolution of 1789, as viewed in the 
Light of Republican Institutions. By John 8. C. 
Abbott. With One Hundred Engravings. [Svo. pp. 
439.] New York: Harper & Bros. Sold in Roches¬ 
ter by D. M. Dewey. 
Popular Tales from tiie Norse. By George Webbe 
Dasent, D. 0. L. With an Introductory Essay on the 
Origin and Diffusion of Popular Tales. [12tno. pp. 
879] New York: D. Appleton & Co. Rochester— 
Adams & Dabney. 
Lives of the Queens of Scotland and English 
Princesses connected with the Regal Succession of 
Great Britain. By Agnes Strickland, author of 
“Tne Lives of the Queens of England.” Vol. VIII. 
[12ino. pp. 379.] New York : Harper & Bros. Roch¬ 
ester— Dewey. 
Love (“L’Amour.”) From the French of M. J. 
Michelet. Translated from the Fourth Paris Edi¬ 
tion, by J. W. Palmer, M. D., author of “The New 
and the Old,” “ Up and Down the Irawaddi,” etc. 
[l6mo. pp. 842.] New York: Rudd and Carleton. 
Rochester - Dewey. 
Tent and Harem: Notes of an Oriental Trip. By 
Caroline Perine. [12mo. pp. 800.] New York: D. 
Appleton & Co. Rochester— Adams & Dabney. 
M. T. Ciceronis De Officiis. Libri Tres. With Mar¬ 
ginal Analysis and English Commentary. Edited for 
the Syndics of the University Press by the Rev. Hu¬ 
bert Ashton Holden, M. A., Vice-Principal of 
Cheltenham College, &c. First American Edition, 
corrected and enlarged. By Charles Anthon, LL. 
D. Professor of Greek in Columbia College, [pp. 
315.] New York: Harper & Bros. Dewey. 
Elementary Grammar, Etymology and Syntax 
Abridged from the Octavo Edition of the “English 
Language in Elements and Forms.” Designed for 
General Use in Common Schools. By Wm. C. Fow¬ 
ler, late Professor of Rhetoric in Amherst College. 
[16mo. pp. 224.] New York: Harper & Bros. Roch¬ 
ester- Dewey. 
Roman Orthoepy :—A Plea for the Restoration of the 
True System of Latin Pronunciation. By John F. 
Richardson, Professor of the Latin Language and 
Literature in the University of Rochester. [16mo. 
pp. 177.J New York: Sheldon & Co. Rochester— 
Adams & Dabney. 
The China Mission. Embracing a nistory of the vari¬ 
ous Missions of all Denominations among the Chinese. 
With Biographical Sketches of Deceased Missh naries. 
By William Dean, D. D., Twenty Years a Mission¬ 
ary in China. [12mo. pp. 396.] New York : Sheldon 
& Co. Rochester— Adams & Dabney. 
The Cavalier. An Historical Novel. By G. P. R. 
James, Esq. [16mo. pp. 891.] Philadelphia: T. B. 
Peterson & Brothers. Rochester— Dewey. 
The Wars of tiie Roses; or, Stories of the Struggle 
of York and Lancaster. By J. G. Edgar, author of 
“History for Boys,” “The Boyhood of Great Men,” 
etc. With Illustrations. [16rao. pp.470.] New York: 
Harper & Bros. Rochester— Dewey. 
TnE Poetical Works of Edgar Allen Poe. With 
an Original Memoir, [pp. 278.] New York: Red- 
field. Rochester— Dewey. 
Napoleonic Ideas. Des Idees Napoleoniennes, par 
le Prince Napolbon-Louis Bonaparte. Brussels- 
1889. Translated by James A. Dorr. [pp. 154.] 
New York: D. Appleton & Co. Rochester— Dewey. 
Napoleon III. tiie Man of Prophecy; or, the Revi¬ 
val of the French Emperorship anticipated from the 
necessity of Prophecy. By G. S. Faber, B. D. First 
American from the second English edition. New 
York: D. Appleton & Co. Rochester— Adams & 
Dabney. 
Straight Forward; or, Walking in the Light. A 
Story for School Girls of all ages. By Lucy Eilen 
Guernsey, author of “ Irish Amy,” “The Sign ot the 
Cross,” “Kitty Maynard,” etc. [16mo.—pp. 345.] 
Boston: Henry Hoyt. Rochester— Dewey. 
Hannah Lee ; or, Rest for the Weary. By the Author 
of “ Isabel, or Influence,” “ Beauty of the Heart,” 
etc. [llimo. pp. 256.] Boston: Henry Hoyt. Roch¬ 
ester— Dewey. 
Haydn’s Sacred Oratorio, The Creation. Edited by 
Vincent Novello. Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co. 
Rochester— W. S. Mackie. 
STONE ARROW HEADS-HOW MADE. 
The heads of Indian arrows, spears, javelins, 
Ac., often found in many parts of our continent, 
have been admired; but the process of forming 
them conjectured. The Hon. Caleb Lyon, on a 
recent visit to California, met with a party of 
Shasta Indians, and ascertained that they still 
used those weapons, which in most tribes have 
been superseded by rifles, or at least by iron- 
pointed arrows and spears. He found a man who 
could manufacture them, and saw him at work at 
all parts of the process. The description which 
Lyon wrote and communicated to the American 
Ethnological Society, through Dr. E. H. Davis, we 
copy below: 
The Shasta Indian seated himself upon the 
floor, and laying the stone anvil upon his knee, 
which was of compact talcose slate, with one 
blow of his agate chisel he separated the ob¬ 
sidian pebble into two parts, then giving another 
blow to the fractured side/he split off a slab 
some fourth of an inch in ’thickness. Holding 
the piece against the anvil yith the thumb and 
finger of his left hand he commenced a series of 
continuous blows, evev y-p A of which chipped 
off fragments of the britti^Bp stance. It grad¬ 
ually assumed the requirea^Kape. After finish¬ 
ing the base of the arrow IjW} (the whole being 
only little over an inch }W length,) he began 
striking gentler blows, even} one of which I ex¬ 
pected would break into it pieces. Yet such was 
their adroit application, his ■ skill and dexterity, 
that in little over an hour he produced a perfect 
obsidian arrow head. I then requested him to 
carve me one from the remains of a broken por¬ 
ter bottle, which (after two failures) he succeed¬ 
ed in doing. He gave as a reason for his ill 
success, he did not understand the grain of the 
glass. No sculptor ever handled a chisel with 
greater precision, or more carefully measured the 
weight and effect of every blow, than this ingenious 
Indian, for even among them, arrow-making is a 
distinct trade or profession, but in which few 
attain excellence. He understood the capacity of 
the material he wrought, and before striking the 
first blow, by surveying the pebble, he could jndge 
of its availability as well as the sculptor judges of 
the perfectness of a block of Parian. In a mo¬ 
ment, all that I had read upon this subject, writ¬ 
ten by learned and speculative antiquarians of the 
hardening of copper, for the working of flint 
axes, spears, chisels, and arrow heads vanished 
before the simplest mechanical process. I felt that 
the world had been better served had they driven 
the pen less and the plow more.— JT. Y. Courier 
and Enquirer. 
WALKING. 
Of all forms of exercise, walking is the most 
useful, as it brings into play the greatest number 
of muscles, without unnatural strain upon any. 
It also leaves free scope to the external senses, 
while allowing of simultaneous occupation of the 
mind. Another advantage is that it admits of 
complete regulation, both in degree and duration, 
according to the strength, time, or wishes of each 
individual. Those who have weak lungs or heart 
must be satisfied with gentle walking, and on level 
ground. Although conducive to mental activity, 
it is often advisable to keep the mind free from 
severe or sustained thought when walking. Hence 
the advantage of a companion with whom cheer¬ 
ful conversation can be kept up, or observing sur¬ 
rounding objects, whether in town or country, so 
as to divert the mind from study and care. The 
pursuits of natural history are good in this way, 
and hence also the chief hygienic effect of shoot¬ 
ing and field sports, excitement and diversion of 
mind accompanying the actual exercise. Those 
who are engaged in business, where the dwelling 
and the place of business are at a distance from 
their place of residence, ought to walk at least 
part of the way, both in the morning and after¬ 
noon, if confined within doors during the day. 
Literary and professional men ought to walk more 
than they generally do. The time is not lost, as 
the mind will always be revived to work with 
greater energy. The brain will do as much work 
in one hour, when there is a fine glow of pure 
ox yg ena ted blood, as in double the time when the 
nervous system is exhausted and tbe veins con¬ 
gested with dark blood. Artificial stimulants 
may quicken thought for a time; but their effect 
diminishing by habit, the quantity has to be in¬ 
creased, and injury in other ways is done to the 
system.— Selected. 
SUDDEN WHITENING OF THE ttatr 
A correspondent of the Medical Times having 
asked for authentic instances of hair becoming grey 
within the space of one night, Mr. D. Parry, staff 
surgeon at Aldershott, writes the following very 
remarkable account of a case of which he says he 
made a memoranda shortly after the occurrence:— 
On February 19, 1858, the column under General 
Franks, in the South Oude, was engaged with a 
rebel force at the village of Chanda, and several 
prisoners were taken; one of them, a Sepoy of the 
Bengal army, was brought before the authorities 
for examination, and I being present had an oppor¬ 
tunity of watching from the commencement the 
fact that I am about to record. Divested of his 
uniform, and stripped completely naked, he was 
surrounded by the soldiers, and then first appa¬ 
rently became alive to the dangers of his position; 
he trembled violently, intense horror and despair 
were depicted on his countenance, and although he 
answered the questions addressed to him, he seemed 
almost stupefied with fear; while under observa¬ 
tion, within the space of half an hour, his hair be¬ 
came grey on every portion of his head, it having 
been, when first seen by us, the glossy jet black of 
the Bengalee, aged about 24. The attention of the 
bystanders was first attracted by the sergeant, 
whose prisoner he was, exclaiming, “ He is turning 
grey,” and I, with several other persons, watched 
its progress. Gradually, but decidedly, the change 
went on, and a uniform greyish color was com¬ 
pleted within the period above named. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MISCELLANEOUS ENIGMA, 
I am composed of 45 letters. 
My 23, 5, 21, 33, 42 was the name of an ancient king. 
My 26,12, 41, 3 is a kind of coin. 
My 30, 28, 9, 82, 34 is what most people fear. 
My 1, 7,19, 89 grow on my 34, 27,13, 15 as well os on 
yours. 
My 10, 44 is a word of negation. 
My 22, 45, 43,14 is a mineral. 
My 2, 24,4, 2, 35, 39 was the name of an ancient Persian 
king. 
My 6,16, 37, 8, 22, 29,16, 31 is a Southern State. 
My 11, 31, 25, 33 is a bad word. 
My 18, 40, 17, 86 means splendor, parade. 
My 20, 29, 27 is a unit. 
My whole is one of “ Poor Richard’s ” maxim. 
South Bristol, N. Y., 1859. L. F. J. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 17 letters. 
My 1, 8,12, 3,11, 6 is a county in Georgia. 
My 2, 9,15,11, 6, 5 is a city in Europe. 
My 3, 5, 4, 7,15,14 is an island in Polynesia. 
My 4,11,12, 8, 9, 9 is a town in Michigan. 
My 5,15, 9, 2, 6, 3, 7,16 is a county in New Jersey. 
My 6,14, 9, 8 is a river in Africa. 
My 7, 6,13, 5, 9 is a river in Europe. 
My 8,13,14,1, 5 is a town in Missouri. 
My 9,11, 6,13,11, 6 is a capital in Europe. 
My 10,11, 8,17, 6,14, 5 is a gulf in Europe. 
My 11,10, 7 is a gulf on the coast of Asia. 
My 12, 5, 9, 8,11, 6 is a county in Florida. 
My 13, 8, 2,13 is a sea in Asia. 
My 14,16, 8, 9, 2, 6, 13 is an island belonging to Den¬ 
mark. 
My 15, 7, 3,14,16, 5,16, 2 is a lake in South America. 
My 16,11,10,10, 8 is a capital in Africa. 
My 17,11,16, 4,11,12 is a volcano in Asia. 
My whole was a great American astronomer. 
Mount Vernon, Mich. J. Mir ton Johnsten. 
Answer in two weeks. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHARADE. 
My first is the name of a prophet and priest, 
Imprisoned awhile, but shortly revealed; 
My second’s a bower, and but one of the kind 
In the pages of history you ever can find; 
My whole is a vine, by man neither planted nor tilled, 
Although of great size, by an insect was killed. 
Wauwatosa, Wis., 1S59. A. B. 
p?T Answer in two weeks. 
ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, &c., IN No. 497. 
Answer to Poetical Enigma:—Gutta Percha—Gutta 
Perolia Cane—Cable—Coffin—Pen. 
Anwer to Geometrical Problem:—19 1-5 acres, and 
12 and 16 chains sides. 
PLEASURE. 
“And pleasure was so coy a prude, 
She fled the more, the more pursued.” 
Pleasure assumes every variety of form. T® 
one it seems to exist in boards of gold; to another 
in hastily squandering such a prize. One pursues 
the phantom as it glides through his fancy to the 
summit of fame, another debases every noble fac¬ 
ulty of the soul to the extreme of human degra¬ 
dation, to attain the same object. Pleasure is not 
found by those who most eagerly seek her. The 
rich often deny themselves the necessaries of life 
to amass their worshiped gold, or spoil the appe¬ 
tite and stupefy the sensibilities withjndulgence. 
The man of genius reaches the long sought goal, 
and rests to enjoy the anticipated pleasure, but 
learns too late, that the “ coy prude” has ever 
been near him till his ambition was gratified, and 
then left him. 
The youth throws off all restraint and follows 
desire through every form of excitement, but never 
can secure pleasure in his grasp; it is still before 
him, still beyond him. He only reaches the misery 
that ever follows in its shadow. Human nature is 
so arranged that excitement soon loses its effect 
if long pursued. Strong and unnatural excite¬ 
ment consumes the natural healthy action of the 
spirits, and leaves them to droop and despond.— 
Lord Byron, who suffered his noble genius and 
generous heart to be bound to the slavery of his 
passions, and spent his lifetime in their gratifica¬ 
tion, was ever unhappy. Burns, equally eminent 
for genius, yielded to his strong social impulses, 
and was intemperate. He has given the most ac¬ 
curate delineations of the pure pleasures of life in 
his poetry, but he has given an equally prominent 
example, in his life, of their opposite. Perhaps no 
Poet ever excelled him in picturing “the native 
feelings strong, the guileless ways,” of a manly 
heart. His poetry was the language of a warm, 
generous heart, and though remarkable for the 
bright sunshine which pervades it, its author was 
far from being happy. He felt that intense an¬ 
guish which only a noble heart can feel, when it 
has been carried away by generous impulses.—• 
Others, after spending a lifetime in pursuit of 
pleasure, with the advantages of talent, wealth 
and fame, acknowledge their unhappiness, and 
say they have spent their lifetime in seeking pleas¬ 
ure where it was not to be found. A volume 
might be filled with such results to pleasure seek¬ 
ers. The history of mankind, thus far, has clearly 
proved that the road to happiness runs parallel 
with the Bible rule, “Be temperate in all things.” 
Castile, N. Y., 1S59. H. E. 
HIGH NOTIONS. 
Messrs. Editors :—“ Chips,” in the Rural of 
June 4th, was evidently laboring under intense 
excitement when he wrote that article on “ High 
Notions.” A person would naturally be led to 
think by reading his flowery description of farm¬ 
ing that it is one of the most delightful occupa¬ 
tions on the face of the earth. “ Chips,” like 
many others of his class, has gathered his impres¬ 
sions and opinions by visiting the farm in the 
summer season, when Nature is clothed in her 
finest dress, when farming would be a. very fine 
thing, if it consisted only in sitting under shade 
trees, and taking rides and moonlight strolls with 
the ladies, &c. These impressions can only be 
cured by taking a firm grasp on the handles of the 
plow, and laboring a few weeks in the hay and 
barley fields. I think if “ Chips ” was put through 
a course on the farm one summer, he would be 
willing to return to his commercial life, and let the 
farmer’s boys work out their destiny in their own 
way, which many of them will do, in spite of all 
opposition. Let none of our young men yield 
themselves to this “ old fogy ” influence—which is 
afloat in our land, and tends to smother.the exer¬ 
tions of many that are struggling to choose their 
own occupation, and prepare to wield an influence 
that will be beneficial to mankind—to the benight¬ 
ed millions that are now struggling in the darkness 
of error’s night. . w. s> 
Niagara Co., N. Y., 1859. 
When Alexander was giving away estates and 
domains with lavish prodigality, before setting 
forth on his eastward march, Perdiccas asked him 
what he reserved for himself. Hope— was his sole 
reply. And the whole secret ot his wondrous 
career of insatiable conquest, fearless intrepidity 
and boundless aspiration, lies wrapped up in that 
sublime answer. 
