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with whom, mo6t likely, they would quickly join ; which accordingly happened at the erecting his standard and displaying of his banners.

I (being at Carlisle when this surprising departure of the Popish party happened, and with them our great fears) wrote to my brother, Chaplain to the Countess Dowager of Carlisle, and then with her at Howard Castle in Yorkshire, a full and particular account of all the circumstances of it, which being intercepted with other letters, and sent to the Lord Delamere, then in arms in favor of the Prince, it gave him great satisfaction. But the noise of passive obedience and non-resistance being still fresh in my ears; and thinking the clergy would oppose their late doctrine by a contrary practice, I inserted this sentence in the close of my letter: "However, I could now wish that those who have so lately been preaching passive obedience to others, may not be found in actual rebellion themselves;" not being aware into whose hands it might fall, nor had I penetration enough to discern or apprehend the subtle and ambidexter distinctions oontrived by the learned clergy, to reconcile their practice to their doctrine; distinguishing and explaining it so as to make it at last passive obedience and no passive obedience.

But the sentence above, being then unfashionable, my brother was directed to admonish me, to forbear meddling any more with that subject.

These things gave me still more and more occasion to reflect, and closely to consider the foundation of our own religion, and those who seemed and pretended to propagate it. For though that doctrine, rightly stated, is a Christian doctrine and duty; yet the failure in practice renders that testimony, as to them, void, how nicely and subtilly so ever they may interpret themselves out of the practice of what the people understood, and the priests intended they should understand by it at that time.

But, to conclude this subject for the present: though I was well pleased with the revolution of affairs at that time, the circumstances thereof being attended with sufficient evidence of a very particular providence of the Almighty, yet I took offence at the clergy's appearing so much in it as they did, who had lately so vehemently preached up contrary principles.

This great and sudden revolution in the government, seemed to unhinge things for a time; and few, if any, knew where they would at lust fix. The Church was divided in judgment, if not in interest; some few keeping to the practice of their former doctrine, but the generality receding from it; so that for my own part, being young, and only a private person, I could not see any certainty in any thing we called religion, state, or politics, all being so interpreted as time served ; or as if none of them had any certainty or steady bottom, or longer continued the same, than the humor or interest of pretenders

run that way; so that as Christianity, Heaven, and Eternal Life, and the way thither, were the general pretences of so many insincere and empty professors of Christ, wholly strangers to his holy and divine nature; under a deep humiliation in a view of these things, and of my owu want of an experimental knowledge of God, in true contrition and bent of both mind and body before him in secret, I often implored his divine wisdom and discretion for my aid and conduct, in a concern of the last importance; in which, above all things, we ought to be most certain and clear, both as to the object of faith, and things to be believed, done and suffered; about which there are so many great and unchristian-like contests in the pretended Christian world, and so little of the wise, innocent, and holy nature of that divine and heavenly thing we all talk and make profession of.

I think proper, in this place, to recount some of the gracious dealings of the Lord with me from my early days. I was not naturally addicted to much vice or evil; and yet, through the conversation of rude boys at school, I bad acquired some things by imitation, tending that way; i but as I came to put them in practice, by word ! or action, I found something in myself, at such , times, suddenly surprising rue with a sense of the evil, and making me ashamed when alone; i though what I had said or done was not evil in | the common acceptation. And though I did not know or consider what this reprover was, yet it had so much influence and power with me, that I was much reformed thereby from those habits, which, in time, might have been foundations for greater evils ; or as stocks whereon to have engrafted a worse nature, to the bringing forth of a more plentiful crop of grosser vices.

Nevertheless, as I grew up to maturity, I bad1 many fluwings and ebbings in my mind; the com no i temptations among youth being ofteD and strongly presented. And though I was preserved from guilt, as in the sight of men, yet not so before the Lord, who seeth in secret, and, at all times, beholdcth all the thoughts, desires, words, and actions of the children of men, in every age, and throughout the world.

The lust of the flesh, of the eye, and the pride of life, had their objects and subjects presented; the airs of youth were manyand potent; strength, activity, and comeliness of person were not wanting, and had their share; nor were natural endowments of mind, or competent acquirements afar off; and the glory, advancements and preferments of the world, spread as nets in my view, and the friendship thereof beginning to address me with flattering courtship. I wore a sword, which I well understood, and had foiled several masters of that science, in the North and at London ; and rode with fire arms also, of which I knew the use; and yet I was not quarrelsome, for though I emulated, I was not envious. But this rule as a man I formed to myself, never to offend, or affront any wilfully, or with design; sad if inadvertently I should happen to dis oblige any, rather acknowledge than maintain or vindicate a wrong thing; and rather to take ill behiviour from others by the best handle, than be offended where no offence was wilfully designed.


[To be continued ]

Review of the Weather, Sfc, for Sixth Month.

Rain during some portion of the24 hours, do. "the whole or nearly the whole


Cloudy without storms,

Ordinary clear,

Mean temperature of the month, . . .
Amount of rain (allin; during do. • ■ .
Deaths in Philadelphia during the four
current weeks of the month, . . .

The average Mean Temperature for the Sixth month for the past 68 years has been about 71°; the highest occurred in 1793, 76°, and the lowest in 1816,64°. In reference to rain we have been kindly furnished with information from the Record at the Penna. Hospital, from which we learn that the quantity which fell during the Sixth month of both last and the present year, has not been equalled in any corresponding month since 1825, inclusive, (and probably for a much longer period,) while the average since 18-58 with the same guage used, has been only about three and three-quarters (3f) inches.

From our own record we 6nd the largest nnmber of days in any Sixth month since 1835, inclusive, on which rain has fallen during some portion of the 24 hours (except the present year.) was 17; occurring in 1845. The average for the same period has bjen 13; the month this year exceeding the average by 10 days of iiiny weather—a pretty large proportion out of thirty.

Independent of its having rained 23 days in the mouth under review, we also find that, commencing with the 27th of Fifth month last, rain fell on 23 consecutive days, with one exception, viz., the 7th of Sixth month.

Knowing this to have been an unusual season, and yet bearing in mind having some twenty years since passed through something similar, the writer was induced to institute a search therefor, which resulted in his finding the following notes in his Diary of

Sixth Mo., 1836: %th.—" The rain which commenced on the 24th ultimo has continued more or less every day until to-day, inclusive, during which time the tun was visible but twice, and then only for » few moments. Twelve days of the time we Lad a very cold N. E. storm, making cloaks^

over-coats and warm fires quite necessary for health and comfort.

20th.—" The thermometer fell no less than twenty-four degrees in four hours—viz. at 11 A. M., it stood at 94 deg. while at 3 P. M., it had dropped down to 70 '."

23.—" In the midst of another cold N. E. storm—overcoats and fires quite in demand."

27.—" Cleared this afternoon, being the sixth successive day of a cold N. E. storm."

On 6th mo. 1, 1843, there is also a note of a small spit of snow in the city, and a squall lasting several minutes opposite the mouth of the Schuylkill River.

Having now had quite enough of matter calculated to damp our spirits, let us turn to something more cheering. The number of deaths last month was unusually small, being only 635. Want of time has prevented a comparison further back than 1850 inclusive, which comes the nearest the present year, during that period, viz. 658. The last week in the 6th month of the present year was also remarkable, being only 131. The next smallest number in any week between 1850 and 1857, was 135, occurring in 1853. When we take into consideration the great extent now embraced in "The City" by the addition of the rural districts, we have truly great cause for congratulation and thankfulness.

Phila. 1th mo. 4lh, 1857. J. M. E.


We have yet a few words for the times to utter, and will condense them as much as possible.

We have no desire to create a "pressure" or a " panic," but rather to prevent one. And this we consider the way to do it:

I. Let the farmer, or other man of moderate moans, who meditates building a new house this Summer, consider carefully his means as well as his needs, and be sure he has the wherewithal to finish before he is tempted to begin If he owes nothing which he is liable to be required to pay, and has means in hand sufficient to surely carry him through, let him go ahead with energy and confidence. If not, let him fix up the old shelter and make it do for another year. Don't let the new house eat up the old farm.

II. Let the country merchant about to buy a fresh stock look carefully through his old one, and see whether he cannot cut down his orders considerably without impairing his assortment. If he bought $10,000 worth last Spring, let him see if judicious and careful purchases of $6,000 worth would not replenish his stock adequately this Spring. Let him who sells $50,000 worth and him who sells $3,000 worth per annum make similar retrenchments in their Spring purchases. And let all be sure that their customers will not only buy and consume, but pay for their entire stock before the season for replenishing again.

III. Let each consumer in moderate circumstances ask himself—" Have I paid for the goods I have already bought and used? If not, let me stop short and buy henceforth no faster than I can pay. The old score must be wiped off as I can afford it, but not a dollar's worth shall hereafter be charged to my running account." If this constrains the wife and daughters to wear their old dresses and the sons to wear their old dress boots and hats till the busy season shall have ended, they will manage somehow to survive the trial.

IV. Let the farmer who lives under a mortgage or chronic debt ask himself if he could not sell something that would pay off at least a part of that debt. Suppose he has a hundred acres of land and owes 91,000, might he not sell off a quarter of his land, pay off his mortgage, and have as much land left as he has stock for, with means to till to the best advantage? But very many are worrying along under a load of debt who have much more than one hundred acres of arable land. To such we say, sell off if possible enough to pay your debt, and provide you with an adequate stock and implements for the residue, unless you are sure your crops will pay off your mortage when due, and do n't rely on the chance of your land rising rapidly in value. It may do so; in time, it probably will; but the sheriff may sell you out ere that time shall have arrived.

V. If you are pressed to take stock in a new railroad or other improvement calculated to benefit your locality, do not shrink behind your neighbors and try to reap a personal benefit at their expense, but consider what you can do, in justice to your family and creditors, and say: "If I can sell a piece off my farm for enough to pay up my subscription, and have a farm left worth more after your road shall be built than the whole now is, I will go in; but if not, you must wait till next year—at all events, I must. I value railroads, but I cannot permit them to plunge me deeper into debt. Henceforth I pay as I go."

VI. This is a good time to stop drinking liquors, using tobacco, and other noxious habits like these. There is a good deal that might be said on this head, but we will beg our readers to suppose it. We arc a prodigal people, and are always letting our expenses run ahead of our incomes. Let us resolve now to see the end of this, though this should bring us down for a season to old clothes and coarse fare. We are heavily in debt to Europe. Our city merchants and bankers owe those of Great Britain; the country owes the cities; the farmers owe the merchants—in short, two-thirds of us are in debt. To "owe no man anything" is not the rule, but the exception. The bare interest on our foreign Debt is a heavy item in our annual outgoes. The Tariff Reduction, which takes effect in July, will

inundate us with more goods, even though we do not order them. We may not be able to pay off much this year, but let us resolve to go in debt no further. Let us stem the current this year, that we may be able to roll it back thereafter. And, as our Foreign Debt is mainly made up of the debts of companies and individuals, let us sternly resolve that we will, individually and corporately, go in debt no further. It is high time that we recognized and enforced the sound old maxim of Pay as you go.


We have been furnished the following description of a large cave in Maries County, by M. Meyer Friede of St. Louis, who explored it on Thursday, the 14th ult. The cave is known by the name of the Big Saltpetre Cave: "" The cave is in Maries County, If miles from the Gasconade River, on a creek called Cave Spring Creek, in Township88, Section 21, Range 9, west. He went to the cave, guided by Mr. R. H. Prewett, a young man about 25 years old, who was born and raised about a quarter of a mile from the place.

"In front of the entrance was a small stone house, which the old settlers thought was built by the Indians, but is now in ruins.

"The entrance goes straight in the rock on a level with the surrounding surface-rock, is about one hundred feet wide, and, in the centre, about twenty-five feet high, arched. Messrs. Friede and Prewett entered the cave for near four hundred feet, where it narrows to about twenty-five feet wide by fifteen feet high, and presents the appearance of an ante-chamber ; from there they passed into a large chamber about one hundred feet in height, where three galleries branch off; they then passed into the left gallery, which ascends near twenty feet on a bed of saltpetre. This gallery is called the Dry Gallery, and is about five hundred feet in length; the height varies from one hundred to about thirty feet. The ceiling and sides are composed of solid rock. Near the end is a large round chamber which Mr. Prewett calls the Ball-room, and that gentleman states that his father had given balls in the chamber frequently; the last was in the winter of 1850, at which time there was about • eighteen or twenty persons there. They went in the morning and stopped all day, and arrived at home in the evening, cooking and eating their meals in -their subterranean saloon, and had a merry time of it.

"After exploring this chamber, they retraced their steps, and passed into the right branch (or fork) of the cave, where they ascended a rise of about twelve feet, and entered another gallery, the end of which is not known; they, however, explored it about three fourths of a mile.

"Mr. Prewett states that he has been in this

gallery over two miles, and did not get to the end of it. In this gallery the dropping of the water has formed stalactites of the most beautiful conceptions—statues of men and animals and large columns, supporting the most beautiful arches, form the ceiling, which is from fifty to one hundred feet high, which forms several chambers of various sizes. The ceiling is decorated with different groups of spar, forming a variety of figures which represent the inside of a cathedral. The size of some of these chambers is about forty feet wide by over one hundred feet high, and look like rooms in some old feudal castle.

"They were afraid their lights would give out, and, therefore, retraced their steps to the main chamber, from which they ascended the middle gallery, where a large stream of clear water issues from the interior of the cave, and has a fall of about six feet, and falls in several round marble basins. The water has a pleasant taste. The water flows all the year round, without variation, iu sufficient volume to drive a mill.

"They ascended the galleries, and found themselves in several beautiful chambers, leading from one to the other, in which, however, they did not penetrate to more than six hundred feet.

"There is a strong draft of air setting in from the entrance. Inside of the cave the atmosphere was mild.

"The chambers are of unusual height and extent.

"They went in at 1 o'clock, and emerged from the cave at 3 J."

The Wind and the Sun disputed,

One chilly Autumnal day,
As they noticed a traveller wending

Far over the common his way,
Wrapt up in a cloak that shielded

His limbs from the early cold— The Wind and Sun disputed

Which could loosen its ample fold.

The Wind, who was always a boaster,

Said he could succeed, he knew;
So he eummon'd up all his forces,

And terrible blasts he blew;
But in vain were his angry strivings,

For the traveller, bowing politely,
Only hurried along the taster,

And grasp'd his cloak more tightly.
With a beautiful smile the Sunshine

Steps forward her skill to try;
And she ofter'd her kindliest greeting

To the stranger passing by;
And her glance was so warm and winning

That be presently felt its charm, And flinging aside his garment,

He threw it across his arm! Now our story is but a table;

But its moral is surely plain— That not by force, but ptrtuation,

Our brother we strive to gain.

Cross words and unkind reproaches
Will never his heart unclose;

We must seek to persuade him gently,
Not ha shly his way oppose.

Take " Love" for your constant motto,

And follow it out each day,
And cast upon all around you

A kind and cheerful ray:
For a great deal more good to others

Men might in our world have done,
If fhey risjhtly had learn'd the fable

We have told of the Wind and Sun.



It is a trifle—give a mill

To help the poor along;
'Tis not the amount—it is the will

That makes the virtue strong.

"I have but little," never say,

"'Twill not avail to give;"* A penny if you give to day

Will make the dying live.
It is the spirit—not the gold

Upon the waters cast—
That will return a hundred fold,

To cheer and bless at last.
Then give a trifle cheerfully,

From out thy little store;
With interest it will come to thee,

When thou wilt need it more.

1'ortland Tribune.



Sir John Franklin, Rear-Admiralof the Blue, was a native of Spilsby, in Lincolnshire. Sprung from a line of freeholders, or "Franklins," his father inherited a small family estate, which was so deeply mortgaged by his immediate predecessor that it was found necessary to sell it; but by his success in commercial pursuits he was enabled to maintain and educate a family of twelve children, of whom only one died in infancy. The fortunes of his four sous were remarkable, unaided as they were by patronage or great connections.

John, the youngest son, and subject of this memoir, was destined for the church by his father, who with this view, had purchased an advowson for him. He received the first rudiment? of his education at St. Ives, and afterwards went to Lowth Grammar-School, where he remained two years; but having employed a holiday in walking twelve miles with a companion to look at the sea, which up to that time he knew only by description, his imagination was so impressed with the grandeur of the scene that former predilections for a sea life were confirmed, and he determined from thenceforth to be a sailor. In hopes of dispelling what he considered to be a boyish fancy, his father sent him on a trial voyage to Lisbon in a merchantman, but finding on bis return th-it his wishes were unchanged, procured him, in the year 1800, an entry on the quarter deck of the Polyphemus, 74, Captain Lawford; and this ship having led the line in the battle of Copenhagen in 1801, young Franklin had the honor of serving in Nelson's hardest fought action. Having left school at the early age of thirteen, his classical attainments were necessarily small, and at that period there was no opportunity on board a ship of war, of remedying the defect. Two months, however, after the action of Copenhagen, he joined the Investigator discovery ship commanded by his relative, Captain Flinders, and under the training of that able scientific officer, while employed in exploring and mapping the coasts of Australia, he acquired a correctness of astronomical observation and a skill in surveying which proved of eminent utility in his future career. In the prosecution of his service he gained for life the friendship of the celebrated Robert Brown, naturalist to the expedition.

In 1803 the Investigator having been condemned at Port Jackson as unfit for the prosecution of the voyage, Captain Flinders determined to return to England to solicit another ship for the completion of the survey, and Franklin embarked with him on board the Porpoise armed store-ship, Lieutenant-Commander Fowler. In the voyage homewards this ship and the Cato which accompanied her, were wrecked in the night of the 18th of August, on a coral reef distant from Sandy Cape, on the main coast of Australia, sixty-three leagues, and the crews, consisting of ninety-four persons, remained for fifty days on a narrow sand-bank, not more than 150 fathoms long, and rising only four feet above the water, until Captain Flinders having made a voyage to Port Jackson, of 250 leagues, in an open boat, along a savage coast, returned to their relief with a ship and two schooners.* After this misfortune Captain Flinders, as is well known, went to the Isle of France, where he was unjustly and ungenerously detained a prisoner by General de Caen, the governor. Meanwhile Franklin proceeded with Lieutenant Fowler to Canton, where he obtained a passage to England in the Earl Camden.

On reaching England, Franklin joined the Bellerophon 74, and in that ship he was again intrusted with the signals, a duty which he executed with his accustomed coolness and intrepidity in the great battle of Trafalgar. In the Bedford, his next ship, he attained the rank of lieutenant, and remaining in her for six years, latterly as first lieutenant, served in the blockade

'The Bridgewater, another merchantman, was also in company with the Porpoise at the time of the wreck, and narrowly escaped sharing the same fate. The master of ber, however, having on the following day seen the shipwrecked vessels from a distance, proceeded on his voyage to Bombay, where, on his arrival, he reported their loss. He did not live to explain his motives to those whom he thus deserted, for the Bridgewater never was heard of again after she left

of Flushing, on the coast of Portugal, and in other parts of the world, but chiefly on the Brazil station, whither the Bedford had gone as one of the convoy which had conducted the royal family of Portugal to Rio de Janeiro in 1808. In the ill-managed and disastrous attack on New Orleans, he commanded the Bedford's boats in an engagement with the enemy's gunboats, one of which he boarded and captured, receiving a slight wound in the hand-to-hand fight.

On peace being established, Franklin turned his attention once more to the scientific branch of his profession, as affording scope for his talents, and having made his wishes known to Sir Joseph Banks, who was generally consulted by government on Buch matters, he set himself seduously to refresh his knowledge of surveying. In 1818, the discovery of a north-west passage became again, after a long interval, a national object, principally through the suggestions and writings of Sir John Barrow, secretary of the Admirality, and Lieutenant Franklin was appointed to the Trent, as second to Captain Buchan of the Dorothea, hired vessels equipped for penetrating to the north of Spitzbergen, and if possible, crossing to the Polar Sea by that route. During a heavy storm, both ships were forced to seek for safety by boring into the closely packed ice, is which extremely hazardous operation the Dorothea was so much damaged that her reaching England became doubtful; but the Trent having sustained less injury, Franklin requested to be allowed to prosecute the voyage alone, or under Captain Buchan, who had the power of embarking in the Trent if he chose. The latter, however, declined to leave his officers and men at a time when the ship was almost in a sinking condition, and directed Franklin to convey him to England. Though success did'not attend this voyage, it brought Franklin into personal intercourse with the leading scientific men of London, and they wore not slow in ascertaining his peculiar fitness for the command of such an enterprise. His calmness in danger, promptness and fertility of resource, and excellent seamanship, as proved under the trying situation which cut short the late voyage, were borne ample testimony to by the official reports of his commanding officer; but to these characteristics of a British seamen, he added other qualities less common, more especially an ardent desire to promote science for its own sake, and not merely for the distinction which eminence in it confers, together with a love of truth which led him to do full justice to the merits of his subordinate officers, without wishing to claim their discoveries as a captain's right. Added to this, he had a cheerful buoyancy of mind, which, sustained by religious principle of a depth known only to his most intimate friends, was not deprcs>ed in the most gloomy times. It was, therefore, with full confidence in his ability and exertions that he

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