Richmond Hill Public Library News Index

York Herald, 9 Jun 1865, p. 1

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

ha? m; 7 «Wy‘mnâ€"n- 1+: I 2:4: LAW“‘C’MD‘S . Alla disp'atched to subscribers by the earliest ‘ pr. other conveyance, when so desired. The. Yonk'fiflmflép' will zil'lvays be found to ' *3?an tlielal§5£ fillflyfigfljmpultant Foreign Indvl’mvinoldflNgws vhnd ‘Marlxets, and the great“: cine will be taken to render it ac- . coplable to lhq man of business. and a valu- gble Pam'in Ll‘lewspaper. , TERMS:â€"0noi Dollar and ‘Fll'ty cents per Six lines and under. first imortlon . . . .3500 50 Each subsequenl insertion .. . . . . . . . . . . 0U 13 Ton linen and under. first insertion. . . . Cl) 75 Each subsequent insertion. . . . . . . . . . . . . 00 20 Above [on lines, first insertion. per line. 00 ()7 Each subsequent insertion. per line. . . . 00 02 Une,Column per twelve months. . . . . . . 50 OH Halfncolumn do do 30 00 Quart.” of a column per twelve months. 20 00 One column pox six months” . . . . . , . . 40 00 Halfacolumn do ...........'2500 Quarter pf a column per six months. . . . l8 0!) A card of tan lines, for one year. . . . . . 4 00 A» card of fifteen lines, do . .. .. 5 ‘25 A card oftwenty lines, do . . . . . . . G 5“ I WAdvertisemems without written direclions inserted till forbid, and charged accordineg IA“ transitory advertisements, from Mrangers or irregular customers, must he paid for when hundrd in, for inser‘ion. A“ letters addressed to the Editor must. be post-paid. No paper discontinued until all arrearages are p‘id : and panics refusing papers wilhoul fiayiug up. will be held accountable for tho “Inscription. - All‘advenisemeuh puhfished for a less perhni than one month. must be paid for in advance. Member of the Royal College cf Surgeons England. --£li _ Con'sqltalim nf' -'I‘heԤda\"s: mum-1M; (UTAH wristth (lush. ‘ “Wright; 3 "Ju'ii’e 931365" ‘ " a in the office on the mornings Thmvdayd and Saturdays. 8 to aliens in the'olficn. I . i.‘ M. REID, M. D., conim-‘vouee AND CGLBUBNE 373., Clerk dfifihé 3rd Division Cou’rt, CONVEYAHCEI‘, AND COMMISSIONER IN THE QUEEN’S BENCH Office opposikebfl. RAYMOND'S HO’IEL. Richmond Hill. ' Dee'trs. \fdrigages, &c., drawn up with neat- naqa-and dws‘palch. Richmond Hill, June. 1865 )_ i I CQNVEYANCEK. AND DIVISION COURT AGENT, DR. JAs. LANQNAW, M7. TEEI‘Y, ESQ, ‘thary Public, COMMISSIONER IN THE QUEEN’S BENCH, :qnn‘um. I>N ‘fii‘Iv'Aificin': 'if hot paid within VVTku-ee Months, Two Dollars will be charged. £1“ ili‘Cl’Ié'nc/ery. Conveyanéor. V in Victoria Bui‘xdiugs, ovorlhe Chronicle office, Brook Street, W hitby. W A; LAWRENCE; ‘ Also a Bfauch Office in the village of Ram vérion, Township of Thorah, and County of Ontario. ‘ 'ZTho Division Courts in OntarioY Richmond Hill,pnd Markham Village regularly attended ’ DAVID EYER, Jun, Slave &Shingle Manufacturer ESIDENCEâ€"Lot 26. 2nd Con. Markham. ‘ on the E lgiu Mills Plank Road. ' ’ :A' large Stock of S'I'Avris and SHINGLES kept arms-tan“; Oll hand.and sold at the lowest Prices. .gerall mld'examiue Stock before purchas- i 'gelsewhere. ; EVERY FRIDAY MORNING, frost. Qtfiqu Addressâ€"Richmond HJII. 1111101865; * Julie; ' 1865,: Garriage‘ and Waggon ‘4 " v; ' MAKER, MITCHEL: 1’10 USE ! MqLEOD begs to announce that I. h 4.1.1315 Leased the above Hotel and filled it n ’m "r‘n‘an'ner second to none on Yonge St. Wh i‘é‘he W'I‘ili'ebphonstgnlly on hand a good supfilydf flair-class Liquors,.&‘c. This house posses§es every accommodation Traveflers can define, tllosqwhp wish to stay where they can find vai‘j éfim‘l’ort are respectfully invited to ya; gub; gm 1: 'establishmenu " I ' ' &c. &c.' &c. Pyéside'flce‘L-Néfi'rly oppositn' the Post Oflice, ~'- - Richmond Hill. Aurora, June. 1865‘ t1 . ,WiHs, fin , &c., drgnrmrlr with itéifiioii mf prqmptitudqfi Terms moderate. Opposite the Elgin Mills, June 9, l865. Richmond Hill, June 9, 1865‘ Riélgfiqdud Hm, June 9, 1865. flusiumfi flimctum. DR. HOSTETTER, Whitby June 2,1865 RATES OF ADVERTISING. ' RICHMOND HILL POST OFFICE- .GRE'EMENTStBonds, Deeds, Morigages. ixCHAS. C. KELLER, ‘T'I'QfiNEY - A’l‘ - LAW, .somcmm (Eb): mark firmlh ILL generaHy be found at home before :halfipasl 7 mm and from 1 to 2 p m. '{fflQMAS SEDMAN, IS PUBLISHED THORNHIL’L AURORA. RICHMOND HILL PU] [Inasclu U\V U;â€" mlhs. . . ... . 50 00 o .......300(l Ive months. 20 00 ......... . 4000 ...........'2500 months.... [8 0!) yeah... .. 40“ lo 5‘25 0 650 l-tf l-tf l-tf Published for the Proprietor by A. Scott. " Oh ! bless’d with temper, whose unclouded ray Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day ! She wh') ne’er answers till Va. husband cools, Or if she rules him. never shows she rules; Charms by accepting, by submitting away, Yet has her humour [nest when she obeys."â€" [Pom HARRY J ONES was one of the smartest young men of the village in which he was born. His parents were industrious and contented; and he himself was of that active and cheerful disposition which derives a pleasure from habitual employment, and requires no excitement of Vice or folly in the hours of leisure. Harry Jones was by trade a cabinet- maker. He was a skilful and ingenious workman, and his master delighted to exhibit the tables and drawers which Harry manufactured, as thcbest speci- mens of his workshop. He lived in a small town to which the refinement of large societies was almost entirely un- known. On a summer evening he might be distinguished on a neighboring green as the best bowler at cricket; and at the annual revel he could try a-full with any lad of the surrounding villages. But his chief delight was his proficiency as a fluteâ€"player. He made himself master of the newest country dances; and oc- casionally astonished his friends with some more elaborate piece of harmonyz which required considerable science and taste in its execution. He was a distin» guished member of volunteer performers at his parish church; and had several times received the praises of the clergy- man for‘the'skill with whiph'he regjllai lted‘the lessijprfictise‘d abilities‘of liiscom- themselyes ihndbent; and; Harry Jop'os hzid sufiicient éensé 'z‘méi virtu'eunot ‘th permit them to diVCrt his‘ attention from the duties 'of his occupation, nor to make him forget that life had more important object? than the pursuit even of sinlcss amusement. a little money. His imastcr was kind and liberal towards him, and having himâ€" self other occupations to attend to, re- signed his little interest as a cabinetâ€" maker to the hero of our story._ Harry became, if possible, more assiduous; he he did not Want friends and customers, and there was a particular object which gave an additional spur to his industry ; he naturally and properly desired a wife as soon as he had acquired the means of maintaining one. In a neighbour- ing village he had formed an acquain- tance with a young woman, who possess-l ed those excellanoes which strongly reâ€"l commended themselves to the prudential part of his character. Her parents were honest and pious people, who had brought up their daughter with the strictest at- tention to economy, and with those habits of regularity which assign to every duty an exact time and place for its fulfilment. These habits of order and punctuality had become a second nature to Martha. She would not allow herself to deviate from the prescribed path, nor could she endure any deviation in those by whom she was surrounded. She had a sircere 'and affectionate heart ; but this precision had given something of coldness and formality to her character. Harry, with the fondness of a lover’s eyes, saw every- thing to admire; he considered that her seriousness would properly regulate his cheerfulness, and that the strict discip- line which she exercised ovcr her own actions would control his inclination for hasty and various modes of occupation. He was satisfied that he could not make a more prudent choice, and the world thought so also. Then married. By his industry and frugality, Hurry, at the age of five and twenty, had saved ‘ At the end of the first fortnight after their union, Harry sat down by his eveâ€" ning fireside exceedingly fatigued; he felt incapable of exertion, and remained for some time listless and dispirited. Martha began to read aloud from a se- rious bookâ€"but she did not choose the. ,most favourably moment for making a proper impression: Harry yawned and almost fell asleep. Martha laid down her book, and recommended him to look over his accounts : with every disposition V01. [a N00 10 The Flute-Player. RICHMOND HILL AND YONG'EI' ST. GENERAL ADVERTISER. flitemturr. A TALE. Harry bore this exceedingly well ; for thcllovc of his Wife came to thl: aid of his ; naturally good temfer. He locked up ifthe flute. But he was disappointed in iexfjeétingx Magnum fibula oiféér . himvanyi isnbstrgt'ute‘ .ffoti 1135‘; fm'nx'ufie‘uainiusqIfient iwere those‘of rigid V and . unsparlng' indufi try. She was never _ tired other domes: tic occupations, and: slimeouldinot. under- stand how a man who had his living to get i could ever tire in the pursuit of'his calling. When the hour of work was over, Harry sat down in his little parlour,â€"but his wife was seldom with him. It was true that the hoards of his housewere cleaner than the floor of any of his neighbours ;‘ that the saueepans of his kitchen shone with a brightness which all the good housewifes in the parish emied ; and that not a cinder deformed the neatness of his hearth without calling forth the brush and the shovel for its instant removal.â€" But then it wasalse true that he someâ€"â€" times caught cold at his dinner hour, from the wetness which the floor acquir- ed from the indefatigable cleanliness of ‘his mate ; that he sometimes made a faâ€" : tal error when he forgot to clean his shoes ‘before he crossed the sanded threshold; that While his wife was rubbing the skil- lets into lookingâ€"glasses; he was desirous of the conversation of a friend and corn- panion; and that his well swept hearth had no charms for his eyes While he was left alone to enjoy its neatness. He was debarred too of his favourite flute ;â€"and it cannot therefore be wondered that he sometimes said in his heart, “‘ why did I marry.” to do right and oblige 'his wife, Harry felt that tho labours of the day were past; He thought of his flute. The sense of fatigue was at once forgotten, as he again placed his old book of times before him. He played his briskest jigsâ€"but Martha did not beat time: he tried his most pathetic airsâ€"but Martha remained un- moved. Hediscovorcd to his mortifiea- tion that his wife did not love music. The next evening Harry did not for- get the recreation of his flute ; he played in his very best style, and he‘appealed to Martha for encouragement and approba- tion. Her praise was of a very negative quality. Sunday came, and Harry, as usual, took his place in the music gal- lery ;, he put forth all his powers, and exercised no common address to make his associates play in tune. As they Walked home he ventured to ask Martha What she thought of their little band. She answered in a tone between indifferâ€" ence and contempt. His pride was hurt, and he determined to say no more upon the subject; The flute continued to be produced every evening, and Harry ceased to ex- pect the praise or ask the attention 01" his wife. But even thisindif‘ferenee did not long continue. On one occasion he observed something like a frown upon her brow ; on another, he heard a pettish expression pronounced in a whisperednndi hurried tone. At length hostility was openly declared against the “flute; and Martha wondered how a man of any sense could wsnte his time, and annoy his family by such a stupid pursuit. It was at this juncture that Harry met with an old companion who had some- thing of the vivasity, but nothing of the goodness which he himself possessed.â€" Harry appeared uneasy and dispirited,â€" the cause of his discomfort was at length communicated. His companion told him, with the common cant of a, libertines, that the way to make Wives amiable was to neglect them ;â€"that his home was unâ€" comfortable becttuse he appeared too fond of it;â€"and that he might find society where his merits would be properly rated- Harry was persuaded to fetch his flute, to spend the evening at a. neighbouring ale-house. The harmless vanity which had been so long pent up now broke ferth beyond its natural boundaries. Harry, played well, and he played' to a late hour, for he was flattered and caressed. On his return home Martha was angry, and he was sullen.‘ The next night brought} with it the Same temptation. What was intended to be a rare induigence at length became a confirmed habit. The public-house could not be frequented without expense; and late hours could not be kept Without RICHMGND HILL, FRIDAY, JUNE 9,1865. Let Sound Reason weigh mor'g‘éoith us than Popular Opinion.” Martha did not want sense. She re- flected deeply upon the causes of their misery; and she at length perceived the error which she had committed in oppos- ing her own fixed habits to the equally confirmed inclinations of her husband.â€" She took her resolution. Honestly and impartially she stated her distresses, and the cause of them, to the vicar of the parish. He was a pious, a sensible, and a charitable pastor. He pointed out to her, what she herself at len h acknowâ€" ledged, that a small portiq‘n ‘ time de- voted to an innocent amusement is not incompatible with the more serious duties of a citizen and a christian ; that the, en- gagements even of themost lowly might afford some leasure for cheerful relaxâ€" ation ; and that religion did not require course of intense exertion and unbendâ€" ing gravity: The» wet y“ allergy ,an t‘weislse'Martha tfie . fseaiim iii-Plan Washer? ‘ Mar-the expend/ad ‘ the mm friendly loan in procuring thgwerfiion of their furniture: but she didfnot asyet bring it home. Her husband had one evening returned Without intoxocation, and in a temper which promised that the succeeding day would be one of industry. She exerted herself to accomplish her plan at this favorable moment. Before the next evening arrived her cottage was once more neat'and comfortable; and the flute, which she had also redeemed, lay upon the table. Harry came in dejected, but his dejection became astonishment as Martha threwher arms around him and pointed to the indications of their future happiness. She confessed the error which had been the original cause of their misery. He felt her generosity, and with bitter tears made a vow of amendment. He was too much afiected to take up his flute that evening ;â€"but on the next his wife pressed it'upon him. She listened to his performance ;â€"â€"she strove to fancy that she had a taste for music ; she prais- ed him. By this effort of kindness on one part, mutual kindness took the place of mutual discomfort. The hour of flute- playing was succeeded by the hour of serious meditation on the divine cem- mands, and of humble prayer before the throne of grace. Their tastes and their pursuits gradually became assimilated.â€" A timely concession‘saved Martha from hopeless misery, and a timely reforma» tion saved Harry from the wretched life and the miserable death of a vagabond and a drunkard. diminishing the capacity for the perfbrm- ance of ordinary duties. Harry, too, acâ€" quired the practice of drinking freely ; and, as his mind was ill at easz, the morn- ing draught often succeeded the night’s intoxication. He was not, as before, seen constantly at his workshop, to receive orders with good temper, lied to execute them with alacrity. He was not distin- guiscd for the brighest. shoes and the cleanest apron of an}r mechanic in the town: his habits were idle and his garb was slovenly. He slunk away from public :ibscrvation to bury himselifin the haunts of drunkenness and proflighcy, As his business failed> he made himself pref tences for employment in {jagabond par- ties of anglers or lark-shooters. One by one every article of furn itute was pawned for present support. The fatal flute was the last thing consigned to the grasp of the money-lender. It is the fashion to venerate, or pro- fess to venerate, the “ sages of antiquity.” We call them the “ancient worthies,” and all that sort of thing, and yet many of them «are as arrant Charlatans and swindlers, and as thoroughly versed in the arts of clap-trap, as any of the bogus “professors” of the present day. The “wisemen” of Greece and R's-me were about on a par with our itinerant magi- cians, and the philosophers were as tricky as the “wise men.” Indeed, it is only an act of justice to modern humbugs to say that they are better fellows upon the Whole than many of the classical gentle- men whom our college-bred youth are accustomed to glorify in their Greek and Latin theses and orations. Unlike the learned and scientific men of our age, Who for the most part take delight in in- structing and enlightning the masses, ANCIENT HUMBUGS‘ and disabusing them of error, the “ wise- men” of the distant past-often eajoledthe multitude in true mountebank style, for their own especial advantage. Take Pythagoras as an exampleâ€"one of the most celebrated of the early Greek as- tronomers, mathematicians and physi- cians. That examplary ‘ ancient worthy,’ in order to attract. people to his lectures, gave out that he was the son of the god Hermes; that he had a golden leg; that he had a spell to tame lions and strike eagles dead in the midâ€"air ; that he could appear in two places at the same timep‘ that he had been to Hades, and was on fainiliar terms with the ghosts beyond the Styx ; that he had heard the planets Sing, and that Saturn was the first bass and the Moon the first tenor of the skies. Certainly our Mesmerists, pscliycologists andflfiologists do not tell such astounding fibs as these. And yet Plato and Aris- totle7 sages of the very first water, were not ashamed to eulogize their author. One day Phytogoras died, whereupon his wife Theans became president of her late husband's “institution,” and “ lecâ€" tured” in his veinâ€"from which we infer that her discourses were decidedly more objectionable than those of a majority of the female philosophers who propound strangeereeds from the rostrum at the present day. If I am going to be moving about out of doors a great deal I can give a full swing to appetite ; which is never exceed; ingly bad. But if I am engaged active- ly and necessarily in mental labor, I can- not eat much. And I have made eating with regularity and with reference to what I have to do, a habit so long that it ceases any longer to be a subject of thought. It almost takes care of itself. I attribute much of my ability to endure good work, to good habits of eating, con- stant attention to the laws of sleep, phy- sical exercise, and a general cheerfulness. It is not fair to run down our own im- postors in the same breath in which we “crack up” the deluders of two or three thousand yearsggo. If Pythagoras was a “worthy,” so isâ€"â€"â€"anyb0dy that gulls the modern public. At any rate, the mountebanks of 1000 years B. 0. should not be lauded at the expense of modern humbugs. weld, reaffirm Sta-{larger at afâ€" worlc with agparentlyfio‘little dialing-g tion of strength. 1 I’lattribnte my power" of endurance to a long formed habit of l observing, every day of my life, the sim-1 ple laws of health ; and none more than those of eating. It ceases any longer to be a mater of self denial. It is almost like instinct. If I have a. severe tax on my brain in the morning, I cannot. eat heartily at breakfast; If the whole day‘ is to be one of exertion I eat very little until the exertion is over. I know that two forces cannot be concentrated in ac- tivity at the same time in the body. I know that when the stomach works the brain must rest, and when the I brain works, the stomach must rest. There is one thing more to be said in this connection. It is not a matter of epicureanism that a man should be dainty concerning the food he eats. On the contrary, I hold that a civilized man ought to be civilized in his cookery. I suppose that one of the infallible signs of the milloniiim Will be a better regula- ted kitchen; a kitchen that sends out food that will not make Christian men sick. The average returns show that a citi- izen of the world on the first day of its appearance in public, weighs about six pounds and a. half; a boy baby a little more, a girl baby a little less. Some very modest babies hardly turn the scale viith two pounds and a half, while other pretentious youngsters boast of ten and eleven pounds. When Shylock asked for his “ pound of flesh” he asked for an equiv alent to a little less than one sixth of a baby. How the tiny ones grow during child- hood We “heed not trace here ; but it may be inter‘esting to know that boys and girls of twelve years of age are nearly equal WEIGHT OF PEOPLE. I cannot eat the whole day eat very little I know that ‘39.; i lmight be seen by the butchers, began to 'gape Wide his jaws and yawn in a formal ‘manner ; when (so great is the power of simpathy) t11e.whole of the butchers as @1393: their shambles, began aegkymr in concern. . 7 lanato‘xjy‘gfifihg influence of an idler on ‘ those Withigggis sphere. The industrious “citizen yen; views his neighbour lolling in- dolently in his porch, begins immediately to draw envious comparisons. “ Be- ihold, “saith he ; “ mine is a life oflabor; I toil, and I sweat; but yonder man, who is no richer than I am, pleasantly passcth away his time, [puffing the cares land disquietudes of the world from him, lwith [smoke from a cigar, or an old ‘ tobacco pipe : I will go and do likewise.” Foolish man! thou hadst better not. In the midst of summer when the me- ridian rays of sun oppress by their in- tense heat the whole animal creation, who is their that has not experienced the at- traction of an idler as he loiters in the cool shade ? “ L0 ” crieth one “ their is Lawrence seated under the shadow of yonder building ; doubtless it is a ‘cool and refreshing place; Ecome let us go and sit with Lawrence. ” Friend if thou valuest life, thou hadst better mind thy business, and pursue an object more es- timable than pleasure and ease ; that will be profitable to thyself, to thy fam- ily, or to the public. We do much injury to our eyes by sitting sidewise by the lamp, so that one eye is in a strong glare. of light, while the other is in the shade. The optic nerves, which transmit light to the brain, unite before they reach it. A strong light vibrating through one nerve and a dim one through the other, will impair their perfect unity, and the custom fol« lowed night after night for years, will, by thus destroying the haimony of the delicate nerves, result in damaged eye- sight. The woman who works at night by her table loses her sight early. Some evening when you have thus sat for an hour» go immediately into a partially ‘dark room; a blur will be before the lightâ€"scorched eye, while the other will be clear. The contraction of the iris has something to do with this; but the jarring, discordant action of the nerves is the same. They weredesigned to act as one ; if they act as two there is wear and tear. Eyesight will fail. with the decline of the body, but upeople that canâ€" not read and will not sew keep their sight longest. Avoid this “strain” on the sister nerves by facing the light. in weight, after which limit males are heavier than females of the same age.â€" Young men of twenty average one hun- dred and forty-three pounds each, While the young Women of twenty average a hundred and twenty pounds. Men reach their heaviest bulk at about thirty-five, when their~average weight is about a hundred and fifty two pounds ; but the women slowly fatten until fifty, when their average is a hundred and twenty- nim. {inunds Men and women together, their weight, at full growth, averages almost exactly one hundred and forty lpounds. Full grown men and women average about twenty times as heavy as they were on the first day of their exist- ence.‘ Of course, averages are here only meant. The averages were formed from men ranging from a hundred and eight to two hundred and twenty pounds, and woman from eighty eight to two hundred and seven pounds. The actual weight of human nature, taking all ages and conditions, nobles, clergy, tinkers, tailors, wives, maidens, boys, girls and babies, all included, the average weight is almost exactly one hundred pounds avoirdupois for each human beingâ€"â€"a quantity easy to remember, at any rate. A HUNGRY wolf is not more danger- ous to a flock of sheep, nor a cat to a mpuse, than an idle man is to the indus- try of a neighbourhood. A pleasant story is told of fifellow who went'into a town market, and placing himself in ‘ the center thereof that he ° What kind of sweetmeats were most firevalént in Noah’s ark? Preserved pairs. ‘ TERMS $1 50 In Advance. SIT FACING THE LIGHT. THE IDLER. Whole 1V0. ed for our dinner, have, in their raw state, the one seventy-five per cent, the other ninety per cent, 'of water. If a man weighing ten stone sore squeezed flat in an hydraulic press, seven and a. half stone of water would run out, and only two and a half of dry residne remain. A man is, chemically speaking forty five pounds of carbon and nitrogen, diffused thI‘Ough five and a half pailsful of water. » The extent to which water mingles with bodies apparently the most “solid, is very wonderful. The glittering opal, which beauty wears as an ornament, is only flint and water. Of twelve hundred tons of earth which a landholder has .in his estate, four hundred are water. The snow-capped summits of Snowden and Ben Nevis have 4 many million tons‘ of water in a solidified form; In; every plaster-of-Paris statue which an Italian carries through streets for sale; there is one pound of water to every four pounds of chalk. ‘ In plants we find water thus mingling no less wonderfully. A sunflower evapo- raties one {ind a gnartcr pints of water a day, and a cahbage about the same quantity. A Wheat~plant exhales, in a, hundred and seventy-two days, about one hundred thousand grains of water. An acre of growing wheat, on this calcu- lation, draws and passes out about ten tons of water per day. The sap of plants is the medium through which this mass of fluid is conveyed. It"forms a deli- cate pump, up which the watery parti- cles run with the rapidity of a swift stream. By the action of the sap, vari- ous properties may be communicated to the growing plant. Timber‘in France, is, for instance, dyed ‘by various colours being mixed with water, and poured over the root of the tree. Dahlias are also coloured by a similar process. Do you know that your best educated women are the most economical without being mean. They stop to count costs. They are never deluded by fashion. They only pay a decent respect to other people’s opinions, and fit their garments by the length of their purses. They can give liberally to God’s poor, and be happy with an ingrain carpet. They can look neat and be contented in a plain bonnet, because they love a Wild rose better than one made by a French mil- liner. They can be intelligent and en’ tertaining without reading more than one book a year, because, keeping their eyes and ears and heart open, rich and beautiful experiences are daily falling out to them. And. after all, this is the great secret of happiness and efficiency in lifeâ€"this is what you are to be educated up toâ€"an earnest appreciation of the ca- : pabilities and treasured joys of the pre- sent.‘ Your true learning, what makes others richer for being with you, are the golden sparks struck out of your own being, Your worthiest opinions are not borrowed from books, but those born of the thought and culture you have brought forward into your life-work. The sym- metry and harmony of your character was not drilled into you at once by your teachers, but grew daily by aeeerations, until you had learned to live as if you were accountable to God, and not to man, for deeds done in the body. EDUCATION OUTSIDE OF BOOKS The air we breathé‘contains five grains of water’t‘oemb $u'bic footpf' its bulk. The Civil List of the Queen is 'very much less than that of any of her pre- decessors, and is, indeed, Very much e: - cecded by the Sovereigns of several second-rate states in the world. Theyi‘n- come of George I. mounted up to'one million sterling, and even that of Wil- liam IV. (who was relieved from. the lburden of many charges to which his pre- decessors were “liablej‘ was £510,000.â€"â€": The Queen’sfiivil-List is £385,000, and : even the expéndit’ure- of that is dictated by Act of Parliament; £60,000‘is allot-- ' ted to the Privy Purse; 232,260 for the salaries of the royal household ; £44,240, for retiring allowances and pensions to servants ; and £13,000 for royal bounty, aims, &c. In order to givethe reader some idea. of the liberality with which this nation deals with its sovereign, We subjoin a few Civil Lists and incomes belonging to some of thc‘more prominent sovereigns in the world, promising that, in several cases (in that of the French Emperor notoriously so ), the maximum amount is by no means adhered to, but a large amount of debt is annually added to the regular allowance :â€",â€"Emperor of“ Austria, £760,787; Emperor of France with a, debt of (£3,200,000), £1,680,- 000 ; King of Italy, £650,000 ; the Pope (total income calculated at over) £1,000,000; King of Prussia (about) £450,000; Emperor of Russia (the in; come (If the crown domains is calculated at) £5,700,000 ; Queen of' Spain, £523,500; King of Bavaria, £249,663; Sultan of Turkey, £1,333,882 ; Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, and of the colonies upon which ‘ the sun never sets,’ £385,000.â€"The Queen. CURIOUS FACTS ABOUT WATER. THE CIVIL LIST OF THE QUEEN mwxmw

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy