& cfofu rft MSSk &me. tu. BY nEYDItS & BEAi'OKD. WHOLE NO. 2767. VOL 53. 6c 1 1 c t Poct xn . CLOE TO CLAIM- A Saratoga Letter. BY JOHN (is SAXE. DEAR CLARA : I wish you were here; The prettiest spot upon earth ! With everything charming, my dear- Beaux, badinage, music and mirth ! Such rows ol magnificent trees Overhanging such beautiful walks, Where lovers may stroll, if they please, And indulge in the sweetest of talks. We "o every morning, like geese, To drink at the favorite spring ; Six tumblers of water apiece Is simply the regular thing ; For such is its wonderful virtue, Though rather unpleasant at first, No quantity ever can hurt you, Unless you should happen to burst! And then what a gos-ipping sight ! What talk about William and Harry; How Julia was spending the night; And why Miss Morton should marry ! Dear Cfara, I've happened to see Full many a tea-table slaughter, But, really, scandal with tea, is nothing to scandal with water ! Apropos of the spring—have you heard The quiz of a gentleman here On a pompous M. C., who averred That the name was remarkably queer ! The Spring—to keep from failing— With wood is encompassed about. And derives from its perfnanent railing The title of "Congress," no doubt! 'Tis plea-ant to guess at the reason— The genuine motive which brings Such all sorts of folks in the season, To stop a few days at the springs. Some come to dispose of the waters, (The sensible, old-fashioned elves,) Some come to dispose of their daughters. And some to dispose of—themselves ! Some come to exhibit their faces To new and admiring beholders ; Some come to exhibit their graces, And some to exhibit their shoulders ; Some come to make people stare At the elegant dresses they've got; Some to show what a lady may wear, And, perhaps, what a lady should not! Some come to squander their treasure, And some their funds to improve, And some for nrire love of pleasure ; And some for the pleasure of love ; And some to escape from the old, And some to see what is new ; But most—it is plain to be told— Come here—because other folks do! And that 1 suppose, is the reason, Why I am enjoying, to day, What's called "the height of the season," In rather the loftiest way. Good-bye—for now 1 most stop— To Charley's command I resign— I'm his for the regular "hop," But ever most tenderly thine. CLOE. —Whoever is afraid of submitting any qoes inn, civil or religious, to the test of iree discus ion is more in love with his own opinion than with truth. —A girl on a visit to the city,and freh from the woods, was one day asked how she liked the country. ".Oh, ma'am," she replied, " I'd like the country very well if it was only in the city." Never break your neck to bow at all to a "sweet sixteen" with a flounced dress, who is ashamed of her old-fashioned mother : or to a strutting collegian, who is horrified at his grandfather's had grammar. A carpenter's apprentice, too lazv to work, dodges it in this fashion : when he takes a no tion, he bumps his nose against a post till it bleeds, and then sits up to have a resting spell. —When all the white people of the United States reduce their expenses one shilling per dav, it makes a difference of eighteen millions ofdoliarsa week,and ofover fifty millions y. very month. —Professor Agassiz, of Harvard Univesity, has been offered hv Louis Napoleon the Profess orship of Paleontology al the Museum <>f Na tural History in Paris, made • acant by the death ) of Md'Orbigny. He has, however, declined the honor. —Senator Pugb, of Ohio, in a speech the other dav, gave the Black Republicans a hard blow. He said, 'They had but one United Stales Mouse of Representatives, and even in that one, the last two weeks of the session were spent in quarrelling among themselves as to who snould be expelled for obtaining the mostptunder.' —At a Black Republican meeting in Lorain county, Ohio, on (he 22d ult., Mr. Washburn gave utterance to the following: "If, because 1 stand up for the equality of the negro, social ly and politically, with the white man,they cali me a negro worshipper, let them do it. I shall persevere to the end." A GRAVE JOKE.—Some years ago, Spurr kept a livery stable in Toledo. Spurr had his pecu liarities. one of which was this: he never let a horse go out of the stable without requesting the lessee not to drive fast. One dav there went to stable a young man, to get a horse and carriage to attend a funeral. "Cert airily 1 ' said ! ' purr, "but," he added, forgetting the solemn! purpose for which the young man wanted the j torse, "don't"drive fatt "Why, jest look ai , °ld feller," said the somewhat excited | young man, "I want von to understand 'h"t f v.of-w ith th procession if it kills tho j ? " purr instantly retired to a Jvorse stall j " d amongst the straw. CON O'KEEFE AND THE GOLDEN CUP. DY R. SUEI.TON MACKENZIE. In Ireland, as in Scotland, among the lower orders, there is a preva 1-nt belief in the exis tence and supernatural powers of the gent:y commonly called "fairies." Manv and strange are the stories told of this mysterious and much dreaded race of beings. Loud and frequent have been the exclamations of surprise, and even anger ofthe hard incredulity which made me refuse, when I was young, to credit nil that was narrated ofthe wonderful leats of Irish fairies— the most fiolicksome of the entire genus. The more my disbeliefwas manifested, the more won derful were the legends which were launched at me, to overthrow my matter-of-fact obstinacy. I have forgotten many ofthe traditions which were thus made familial- to me in mv boyhood, but my memory retains sufficient to convince me to what improbabilities superstition clung—and the more wonderful the story, the more implicit the belief. But in such cases the fanaticism was harmless, — it was ofthe head rather than ollhe heart—ofthe imagination rather than the reason. It would be fortunate if all superstitions did as little mischief as this. It is deeply to be lamented that the matter-of factednessof the Americans is not to be subdued or modified by any—even the slightest—belief in the old world superstitions, of which I speak. Of fairy-lore they do not, possess the the slight est item. They read of it, as i! it were legendary but nothing more. They f>-el it not they know it—they are, therefore, dreadfully actual. So much the worse for them! Having imbibed a sovereign contempt for the wild and wonderful traditions which had been duly accredited in the neighborhood, time out of mind, I never particularly chary in expressing such contempt at every opportunity. When the mind of a boy soars above the ignorance, which besets his elders in an inferior station, who had neither the chance nor the desire of being enlightened, he is apt to pride himself, as I did,on th "march of intellect" which has placed him superior to their vulgar credulity. Many years iaa v - passed since 1 happened to he a temporary visitor beneath the hospitable roof of one of the better sort of farmers, in the county of the Midsummer holi days. As usual, | there indulged in sarcasm against the creduliw of the country. One even ing, in paiticular, I was not a little tenacious in laughing at the very existence of "the fairy folk;" and, as sometimes happens, ridicule ac complished more than argument could have ef fected. My hosts could bear anything in the way of argument —at least of argument such as mine—they could even suffer their favorite legends and theories about the fairies to be abused; but to laugh at them—that was an act ol unkindness which quite passed their com prehension, and grieviously taxed their pati ence. My host wasquitein despair, and almost in anger at my boyish jokes up >n his fairy-legends when the village schoolmaster carne in, an un invited but most welcome guest. A chair was soon provided for him in the warmest corner— whiskey was iinrnediatelyon the table, and the schoolmaster, who was a pretty constant votary to Bacchus, lost no time in making himself ac quainted with its flavor. I had often seen him before. He combined in hi? character a mixture of shrewdness arid simplicity: -was a most excellent mathematician and a good classical scholar—but of the world he knew next to nothing. From youth to age had been spent within the limits of the parish over which, cane in hand, lie had presided for more than a quarter of a century —at once a teacher and an oracle! Me was deeply im bued with a belief in the superstitions of the dis trict, but was more especially familiar with the wild legends of the rocky glen (the defile near Kiiworth, commonly railed Araglin, once fam ous for the extent of illicit distillation carried on there,) in which lie had passed away his lite, usefully, but humbly employed. To this eccentric character nry host trium phantly appealed for proof respecting the ex istence and vagaries of the fairies. He wasted no time in argument, but glancing triumphant ly around, declared that he would convert me by a particularly well-attested storv. Draining his tumbler, and incontinently mixing another, Mr. Patrick MeOann [dunged at once into the heart ol his narration, as follows : "You know tlie high hill that overlooks the town at Fenr.oy 1 Handsome and thriving place as it now is, I remember 'he time when there were only two houses in that same town, and one oftheni was then in course of htiilloing ! Well, there Iv.-d on the otb-m side Gorran I'hi erna (the mountain in question, though Corns* is tile true name) one of the Harrys, a gentle man who was both rich and good. I wish we had more of the stamp among lis now—is little of the Whiteboys or Rihboumen, would 'trouble the country then. He had a fine f.rtune, kept up a fine house, and lived at a dashing rate. It does not matter, here rtor there, how many ser vants he had: hut I menti >n thern, because one of them was a very remarkable fellow. Hi tqual was not to be had, far or near, for love nor money. "This servant was called Con O'Keefe. He was a crabbed little man, with a face the very color and texture of old parchment, anil he had lived in the family time out of mind. He wa.< such a small, dwarfish, deeny creature, that nc one ever thought of putting him to hard work. All that they did was, now and again, from tht want of a better messenger at the moment, oi to humor the old man, to send him to Rathcor mac post-office for letters. But he was toe weak and feble to walk so far—though it was only a matter of three or four mi't" • - got him a little ass. and he* rod" upon it. quite as proud as a general at the head of an n my o conquerers. - ' 1 was as go .Jas a play to in* <' t nrjunted' upon his donkey—you could > ar< d; FRIDAY MORNING, BEDFORD, PA., OCTOBER 23, 1857. make out which had the most stupid look. But neither man nor beast can help hi* looks. "At that time Rathcormac though 'tis but a village now, was a borough, and sent two mem bers to the Irish Parliament. Was not the srreat Cur ran, the orator and patriot, member for Rathcormac, when he was a young man ? Did not Colonel lonsongei made an Irish peer, out of this very borough, which his son William is, to this day, by the title of Baron Riverdale of Rathcormac ? Does not his shield bear an open hand between two castles, and is not the motto, 'JVlanus haec inimica, tyrannis*—which means that it was the enemy of tyrants ? Did not the Ulster King of arms make the Tonsons a grant of these lands in the time of Cromwell? But here I have left poor little Con mounted on his donkey all this time. "Con O'Keefie was not worth his keep, for any good he did : but, truth to say, he had the name of being hand and glove with the fairies; and, at that time Corran Thierna swarmed with them. They changed tin ir quarters when the regiments from Fermoy barracks took to firing against targets stuck up at the foot of the moun tain. Not that a ball could ever hit a fairv (except a silver one cast by a girl in her teens, who has never wished for a Ic-ver, or a widow under forty who has not sighed for a second husband—to there's little chance that it will ever be cast,) but they hate the noise of the firing and the smell of gunpowder quite as much as the devil hates holy water. "Tis reckoned lucky in these parts to have a friend of the fairies in the house with you, and that was partly the reason why Con O'Keefe was kept at Barry's fort. Many and many a one could swear to hearing him and the "good folk' talk together at twilight ori his return from Rathcormac with the letter-bag. My own notion is, that it he had anything to sa.v to them, he had more sense than to hold conversation with them on the high road, for that might have led to a general.discovery. Con was fond of a drop, and when he look it (which was m an al gebraic way, that is, 'any given quantity,') he had such tarnous spirits, and his tongue went so giiblv, that in the absence of other company, he was sometimes /breed to talk to himself, as he trotted home. "One night, as he was going along, rather the worse for liquor, he thought he heard a con fused sound of voices in the air, directly over his head. He stopped, and sure enough it was the fairies, who were chattering away like a bevy of magpies, but he did not know this at the time. "At first he thought it might he some of the neighbors wanting to play him a trick. So, to show that lie was not afraid (lor the drink bad J made him as bold-tfV'.t lion,) when the voio s a-"* bove and around him kept calling out, 'High up ! high up !" be put m his spoke, and shouted as loud as any of them, 'lligh up! high up, with ye, rnv lads!' No sooner said than done. He was whisked ofl'his donkey in a twinkling, and was high up in the air in the very middle of a crowd of 'good people'—for it happened to he one of their festival nights, and the cry that poor little Con heard was the summons forgath ering them altogether. Although Con had the reputation at Barry's fort of being well acquain ted with them ail, you may well believe that j there was not a single lace among the lot that he knew. "In less than no time, off they went, when their leader—a little morsel of a fellow, not, bigger than Hop-o -my-J hntnb—bawied out, 'High for France! high for France! nigh over!' Off thev went, through the air—quick as it thev were on a steeple chase—Moss and moor mountain and valley—green field and brown |>og land and water, were all !e|t behind, and thev never once halted until they reached the coast of France. "Thev immediately made for tlip house (there it is called the chateau) of a great lord one of the Seigneurs of the Court—and bolted , through the key-hole into his wine-cellar, with- i out leave or license. How little Con was I squeezed through I never could understand, but i it is as sure as fate that he went into the cellar with them. Thev soon got astride the casks, ■ and commenced drinking the best wines with out waiting to he invited. Con you may lie sure, was not behind anv ol them, as iur as the i drinking went. The more he drank the better relish iie had for their tipple. The 'good peo ple,' somehow or other, did not appear at all ! surprised at Con's being among them, but they I did wonder at his great thirst, and pressed him to take enough—and Con was not the man who'd wait to be asked twice. So they drank on until night slipped away, when then the • sun like a proper gentleman as tie is. sent in 1 one of his earliest beams, as a sort of gentle hint that it was time for them to return. They had a parting-glass, and in half an hour or so had crossed Die wide sea, and dropped little Con ('pretty well, I thank you,' by this time) on ; the precise spot he bad left on the evening . ■ fore. He had been drinking out of a beautiful : crolden cup in the cellar, and, hy some mistake jor other it had slipped up the sleeve of the J ' larce loose coat he wore, and so he brought it home with him. Not that Con was not honest ! enough, but surely a man may be excuseu for taking 'a cup too much' in a wine cellar. "Con was soon awakened by the warm sun- ' 11). am., playing be. At first hj tta?hl !he had been dreaming, and he might ha thought so to his dying day, but that, •*hen he j cot on bis feet, the golden cup rolled on the ! road before him,and was proof positive that at. j was a real it v. . 4 Hesaid bis prayers directly, between h.m ' and harm. Then he put up the cup and wa.k --' S hom " where, as bis little donkey had re turned on the previous night w,thou h.m - i familv had given h.m up as mrt or or rTnde/d ft . mol th 01 M >S ilCf >U -V T ' ! , <, ofji'.s having gone oh e.u s thy K- •oa.w.my . r * i with the ta.i n'S. x "Vow does not my story convince y.u
' - i-'rr It IS UOt Freedom of Thought and Opinion. more* than twenty years since I have heard Con O'Keefe tell the whole story frombeginning to end ; and he'd say or swear with any man that the whole of it was as true as gospel.— And as sure as my name is Patrick McCann I do believe that Con was in strange company that night, I ventured to say to Mr. McCann that, being yet incredulous, I must have better evidence than little Con's own declaration. "To be sure you shall," said he. "\\ as not the golden cup taken up to Barry's fort and to be seen—as seen it was—bv the whole coun try ?" I answered that, "Certainly, if the cup is to be seen there, the case is materially alter ed." "I did not say that the cup /sat Barry's fort," said McCann, "only that it was. The end of the story, indeed is nearlv as strange as the be ginning:— When Con O'Keefe came back from this wonderful excursion, no one believed a word of what he said : for though it was whispered that he was great with the fairies, yet when the matter canw tangibly before them they did not credit it. But Con soon settled their doubts ; he brought forward the cup, and there was no gainsaying that evidence. "My Barrv took the cop into his own keep ing, and, the name and residence of the French lord being engraved upon it, determined (as in honor bound) to send it home again. So he went off to Cove without anv delay; taking Con ; with him : and as there luckily was a vessel go- ! ing off to France that very day, he sent off lit tle Con with the cup and his very best compli- ; ments. Now, the cup was a great favorile with the French lord (being a piece of family plate, giv en to one of his ancestors by one of the old kings of France, whose life he had saved in bat- ' tie), and nothing could equal the hubbub and j confusion that arose when it was missing. His j lordship called for some wine at dinner, and i great was his anger when the lackey handed it ; to him in a glass, declaring that they could riot i find the golden goblet. He threw glass, and i wine, and all. at the servant's nead—flew into a terrible passion—and swore, by all that was good and bad, that he would not take anything stronger than water until the cup was on the table again ; and that if it was not forthcoming I in a week, he'd turn oifevery servant he had, without paying them their wages, or giving them a character. , "The cup was well searched lor, but all to no purpose, as von may suppose. At last the week ; came to an end —all the servants had their clothes packed to be off in the morning. His lordship was getting dreadfully tired of drink- i ing cold water, and the whole house was. as one may say, turned topsy-turvy, when to the de light and admiration of all, in came Con O'- Keefe, from Ireland, with a letter from Mr. j Barrv and the cup in his fist. "I rather think they welcomed him. His] lordship made it a point to get 'glorious' that j night and, as in duty bound, the entire house-j hold followed bis example, with all the pleasure ; in life. Voir may be certain that Con played : awav finely at the wine—you know the fairies I had made him free of the cellar—so he knew ; the fast n of the liquor, and relished it too. There ; can he no doubt that there was a regular jollifi cation io the chateau that night. "Con remained in France for a month, and perfectly in clover, for, from the lord to the lackey, every one Miked him. When he re turned he had a heavy purse of gold for himself, and many fine presents for his master. In depd. while the French lord lived, which was for fifteen good years longer, a couple of hogs heads of excellent claret were annually received at Bariy's fort, as a present from him, and there was no wine in the country to equal it. As for Con O'Keefe, he never had the hick to meet the fairies again, a misfortune he verv sincerely lamented. And that's the; whole storv." I asked Mr. McCann whether he really he- 1 lieved all of it. That worthy replied in these; words; — "Why, in truth, 1 must say. some parts of it ■ required rather an elastic mind to take in : but there's no doubt that Con tens sent over to j France, where it is said, there was a great todo ! about a golden cup. lam positive that Mr. Bar rv used to receive a present of claret every vear, j front a French lord, for I've drank some of the i best claret in Ireland from Mr. Barry's cellar. Tf the tale he true —and T have told it as T beard Con O'Keefe tell it, especially when overcome by liquor, at which time the truth is sure to 1 romeont disproof positive that there have; been fairies in this neighborhood, and that with in the memory of man !" Such a logical conclusion was incontroverti ble, especial I hen enforced by a facetious) wink from the schoolmaster : so I even left mat- : ters as they were, and listened with all proper ; attention to other stories in the same vein, and to the same effect. If the narrator did not credit them, most of his auditors did, which amounts' to much the same in the end. Some other time, j perhaps, f may be tempted to relate them. Wait. Of course it is very hard to wait. No matter whether yon have to wait in certainty, or in doubt; whether for the fulfilment of a promise or the arrival of a "ship load of money," wait ing is tedious, and one feels that patience is a virtue. Young Hopeful cannot wait for dinner a id spoils his appetite and digestion with apples aid bread and butter. Older grown, he cannot wait for his majority and borrows. Tell people to wait and they answer tb.a' b'ejral! •Mve wait.-:! long enough, .ti:l waiting makes fj Ye ! uiting i- F- • rIo 1 of moral , strength. The grandest achievements have to :• way for, Small min- * are always fizzing and leaking ' when the time comes they are if: . th n iVi or emp- y. London Times, THE GRANDEUR OF NATURE. We live peaceably on the surface of the earth, while oceans of fire roll beneath our feet. In the interior of the globe the everlasting forge is at work. How dreadful must an earthquake be, when we are told by Pliny that twelve cities in Asia Minor were swallowed in one night. Not a vestige remained—they were lost in the tremendous Forever ! Millions of beings have been swallowed up while flying for safety. In the bowels of the earth Nature performs her wonders at the same moment that she is firing the heavens with her lightnings. Her thundprs roll above our heads and beneath our feet, where the eye of mortal man never penetrated. In the vast vortex of the volcano the universal forge empties its mplted metals. The roar of Etna has been the knell of thousands, when it poured forth its cataract of fire over one of the fairest portions of the earth, and swept into ruins ages of industry. In the reign of Titus Vespasian, m the year 70, the volcano of Vesuvius dashed its fiery billows to the clouds, and buried in burn ing lava the cities of Hercularieum, Stabic and Pompeii, which then flourished near Naples. In the streets once busy with the hum of indus try, and where the celebrated ancients walked, the modern philosopher now stands and rumin ates upon fallen grandeur. While the inhab itants were unmindful of tbp danger which awaited them ; while, they were busied with the plans of wealth and greatness, the irresistible flood of fire came roaring from the mountain, and shrouded them in eternal night. Seven teen centuries have rolled over them, and their lonely habitations and works remain as their monuments. They were swept away in the torrent of time—the waves of ages have set tled over them, and art alone has preserved their memory. Great Nature, how sublime are all thy works ! ANCIENT FAMILIES. —It is well known that | the Highlanders are great sticklers for hered ! itary honors, and trace back, with the most ear ! nest veneration, the origin of families into I the remotest ages. An amusing instance of this : tenacity to hold to the dignity and antiquity of their kindred, may be found in the case we sub join. ! A dispute arose between Campbell and M'- j Lean upon this never dying subject.—M'Lean 1 would not allow that the Campbells had any j right to rank with the M'Leans in antiquity. who he insisted, were in existence as a clan ; from the beginning of the world. Carribpell ' had a little more biblical lore than his antagonist I snd asked him ifthe M'Lean clan lived before the flood.' "Flood! what floodl" said M'Lean. "Why the flood, that you know, drowned all ; the world but Noah, and his family, and his flock," replied Campbell. "Pooh! you and your flood," said M'Lean, | my clan was afore the flood. 1 "I have not read in the Bible," said Campbell, of the name of M'Lt-an going into Noah's I ark!" i "Noah's ark !" retorted M'Lean, in con ; tempt "whoever heard of a M'Lean, that had not a boat of bis own ?" ! HEAVEN. —Can mortal minds conceive the glorv of that upper sphere, where the sun never j goes down, and night never can come. Where ' the river of life rolls its crystal waves around the high white throne of the great Eternal, j Fairer flowers than any Flora's hand has strewn jon earth, bloom in the fields of Immortality. ! Cherub forms float on the waves of music, j swept from the Golden harps of God's elect.— Earth's brightest sun-beams are but darkness compared to the light that emanates from the ! Sun of Righteousness. Frail mortals deem it shadowy land! Not so! Ttiere, no clouds | come to dim the light of eternal day! Sorrow never flings its dark mantle o'er sinless dwell ers there, and death cannot enter the better land. Shipwrecked mariner tossed on life's tempestuous sea ! Wearv pilgrim, treading 1 the patii that leads to death! Let not earth's fleeting pleasures deceive you ; trust alone in Heaven. - Two SCOTCHMEN thus discoursed : i "Aw say, Georgie, man,aw hear thou's been ' makin a fule o' theesei'?" "A v, man, I've gotten a wife." "Why, didst thou know ative dun that same thing mesel'? What kind o' body bast thou i gotten!" "A perfect deevai, man—a perfect deev : a I." "Smash me, man, an wish mine war nae | warse than that." "Warse than that!" responded Georgie, "how car. she be warse than that ? Isn't Beelzebub ; the warst critter a man cood have tor an akwent | ence i' this world ?" "Nought o' the kind, man—nought o' the i kind. Did'st thou knaw what the Bible says (and thou knawst it cannot ue wrong) ! It says, 'resist the deevai, and he'll flee from you ;' but, bless thy soul, sample lad, if ye resist my wife, I she'll flee right at ye." A BAD "CASE." —Dobbs rushed to the Doc tor's office with terror depicted upon his visage in unmistakeable characters. He looked pale : his nostrils were dilated, and there wns an un-' easy look in his eyes. The doctor noticed it instantly and inquired, with as little exhibition of excitement as the nature of the case would admit : —"Why what's the matter, Dobbs ?" j Dobbs dropped into a chair iu an all-gone-a --j tivenes manner peculiarly touching. I don't know, he replied •"T believe Tam >•;; '' • h.n. t '.- sn;.i i'-p-ix." "Why how do '■*<■ .:. ■ -!: • in! the doctor. "O, Ido not know, hardly.'" said D ■ "J a great relucMm •* to do at.y --1 thing." The doctor inquired lv.w long he trad , had the symptoms, D^ro, ' "/'we always \n " ■ ■ Ti - .* •. ' . ■ . . ! Dobbs'case was evidently past ail Snn.yTy. TERRS, $2 PER YEAR. NEW SERIES VOL I, NO. 12. WHAT SCIENCE SAYS OF BREADMA" KING- It is a praiseworthy characteristic of the A merican people, that they are curious to know the philosophy of all things. Causality, as the phrenologist would say, is large among us.— We analyze the smallest as well as the greatest objects. The reason why the stars keep to their orbits is hardly more interesting to our practical minds than the mysteries involved in bread-ma king. For the making of good bread, to thousands and tens of thousands of housewives even, is a mystery. Cooks pride themselves on their suc cess in the art ; and naturally : for it is a distinc tion to be able to insure light bread. Yet of a hundred thousand breadmakers, how few under stand why it is that the bread is sometimes good and sometimes bad ! The proficient has a kr.ack in kneading and baking her bread ; and that is all she knows about it. The rival, whose bread is a failure, can only say that the baking went wrong ; and is as much in the dark as the other. To make bread the flower has first to be kneaded. But why knead it 1 Because a cer tain quantity of water, in addition to that ex isting in the flour, is necessary to produce those chemical changes, without which good bread can never be made. The water dissolves the sugar and albumen: combines with and hydrates the starch; and moistens the minute particles of gluten, so as to induce them to cement together, and thus bind the whole into a coherent mass. The good house wife knows, by practice, when this state of things has been brought about; in other words, when her dough is properly knead ed. For as only a certaiu limited quantity of water can be used to produce this effect, as too much or too little would wholly frustrate the end, it is plain that the water must be carefully and thoroughly worked into the flour; so as to bring every separate particle of the one into contact with the required amount of the other. Kneading, with the hand, is the sole way to do this. The competent housewife tells by the feeling when her dough is fit to put away to rise. No machinery can do it perfectly. The next process is the fermentation. This is produced, generally, by yeast; and always more safely and perfectly by it. Yeast, as the microscope has proved, is a vegetable—a true plant belonging to the fungus tribe. It makes bread rise, by producing a changp of the gluten or albumen, which acts upon the sugar, break ing it up into alcohol and carbonic acid gas.— If the dough has been skillfully kneaded, and the fermentation is regular and equal, the gas is evolved evenly throughout the mass, so that the bread, when cut, will be honeycombed with numberless minute pores. Bad yeast, or a bad fermentation, makes the bread sour, which the experienced housewife corrects with a little al kali. Chemical substances are sometimes used to make bread rise. But Youmans, the chemist to whom we are indebted lor most of these facts, says, that as such substances are not nutri tive, but medicinal, they exert a disturbing ac tion on the healthy organism, and, consequent ly, ought not to be employed habitually. Oth er writers, also, have attributed the increase of dyspepsia to the wide-spread introduction of these agents as a substitute for yeast. The baking of the loaf, as every housewife knows, is not the least part of the "art and mystery" of bread-baking. The heat of the oven should be equal everywhere throughout it, and should continue constant for a consider able time. Ifthe heat is insufficient, the bread will b" soft, wet and pasty; if too great, the crust will be burnt, the inside raw dough. The baking temperature of an oven should range 350 deg. Fahrenheit, to 500 deg. An ordinary way of testing when an oven is proper for bak ing, is to strew fresh Hour on the bottom, and if the flour chars, the heat is excessive. The loaf diminishes in weight and enlarges in size bv baking, in consequence of the evaporation of the water, the expansion of its carbonic acid gas, and the vaporizing of its alcohol. The crust is caused by chemical changes in the out er surface of the loaf, producing an organic matter which chemists call assamar. Such is the scientific history of breadmaking.— Phil. Ledger. DANIEL WEBSTER ON THE LOVE OF HOME. —lt is only shallow-minded pretenders who make either distinguished origin a matterof per sonal merit or obscure origin a matter of per sonal reproach. A man who is not ashamed of himself need not be ashamed of his early con dition. It did happen to me to be bom in a log cabin, raised among the snow drifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early that when the smoke first rose from its rude chimney and curl ed over the frozen hills there was no similar evidence of white habitation between it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its re mains still exist: I make it an annual visit. I carry mv children to it, and teach them the hardships endured by their relations before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollec tions. the kindred ties, the early affections, and the narrations and incidents which mingle with all I know of the primitive family abode; I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now amongst the living, and if 1 ever /ail in af fectionate veneration for hint who raised it, and defended it against savage violence and destruc tion, cherished all domestic comforts beneath its roof, and through the fire and blood of seven years revolutionary war shrunk from no toil, no sacrifice to serve his country, and to raise his children to a condition better than bis own, ma; mv name and th" ram" of my ? \ Or,.- cann. t see the grand sepulchres ot Egvp,,M*s Emerson,) without i'eei;ng that for sue I) si truiV') ino almost wish to di<*.— ;!r, . u-i the high marble wails and ceilings so o!irately cai ved, were not so much tombs as . >' ui-nin-T chambers for immortal spirits.