MARRIAGES OF PRINCES OF WALES.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 7, Issue 349, 25 June 1863, Page 3

MARRIAGES OF PRINCES OF WALES.

Of the fourteen Princes of AVales known to English history, only five married while holding that title. -The others, excepting of course those who died at a tender age, disported freely in Veche bnissoniere, and only- consented to range themselves, as a duty to society, when they.: came ..to the throne. . . . - The most famous of all the! Princes of Wales, Edward the. Black Prince, the third of the order, was the first who :aa«rried as a prince ; - and few events m English history have taken such a .hold-on tlie mind of the people For centuries it was oile of the most attractive tales that •could-.be: told, -at our English ■ fire-sides*, and there was iio chap-book with winch; the pedlars drove a better trade thanitlialf which commemorated the loves of Edward, and Joan. The, popularity of the story was. ho,doubt attributable -toffthefame off the hero, to the nationality of the heroine, and, above all, to the Union having been: a genuine love-match. ; When the Prinqe w r as “a hopeful young gentleman ”! of fom-tecn years of age, there had been some talk, of a.marriage between him and. Margaret of Brabant, an innocent little prattler- only four years old. But*’ somehow or other, the proposal came to nought, probably on account ’of some question of dower ; .certainly, we . may presume, not .because the affections of the lady were pre-engaged.- "

Afterwards, when the Prince had distinguished hiinself by his prowess-' and valour in''.the hold, .the daughters, of the kings qf Frane'e and. Portugal, we're successively suggested as suitable bride-. But these schemes fell .-through too, and when Edward came home, in 1361, from vanquishing the French, and proving what wonders a gallantleader can;achieve with a handful of trusty men, lie was still a bachelor. It is a question, however, how far his heart was free. ..k ..

Joan of Kent, the lady to whose.charms lie now’: surrendered, ... must have been known to him from boyhood, for she was a relation qf his own, being a grandchild qf the same King Edward • whose great grandchild he himself w-as. Joan’s .early life was somevvhat; chequered. Betrothed as a girl to the heir to the earldom of > alisbury, she .had afterwumls married Sir Thomas Holland. Notwithstanding this second.alliance the: earl claimed her as his wife g and the'intervention of the Pope was required, to decide, authoritatively, to whom the Fair Maid of Kent really belonged. The, Pontiff, very properly pronouneedlthnt the marriage which had been carried Into effect , was the true one. In 1361 Sir Thomas, had just died, and Joan .was a widow, with four bouncing “ encumbrances,”':■ At this critical period of. her fortunes she was fair,- fat, and not far off forty (being thirty-three years off age). The Prince, of : Wales was two yearslier junior, . and, like Lauuce■lot, was “ once of the.goodliest men that ever among.ladies eat in hall,”' . . Such was the pair. He,” says tlie magniloquent old ..chronicler, .“ the glory of his sex far military performances’and all: princely virtues.; and she, the flower of hers, for a most surprising.beauty.’-’

The. next ;Prince of Wales who .was married was Edward of Westminster, son of. Henry VI. _ There .are,..sQme„ romantic but rather apocryphal passages in the story of liis courtship. . It is -said that when a fugitive with his mother in Paris, he met the Lady Ann Neville, .daughter of, Warwick, the King-maker, then a little girl of, about his own years ; that the two playmates conceived a deep affec-

thm for each other which did not pass, away with cliildhood ; and that Edward, niter life return to England, escaped from lennej-and crossed to Calais to have anMilier interview with his sweetheart, much to the alarm of his mother, who

thought he had. been spirited away or mur-'d-red by some of the opposite faction. '! he young couple seem to lniye been very well content with each other ; but there is no doubt the match was made purely for political reasons, and to cement the alliance between the powerful earl and the house of Lancaster. The wedding took plape at Aniboise. The marriage of a boy of sixteen to a girl of seventeen, in the first year of the sixteenth century, exercised, indirectly, a momentous influence on the destinies of this country, and indeed, ctf Europe—that was the union of -A r-thur- of Winchester, eldest son of Henry the Seventh, to Catharine of Aragon. The negotiations in regal'd to their alliance lasted for eight years, and the boy prince had no. sooner mastered the conjugation amo, than he began, with the help.of his tutor, to indite

love letters in precise, pedantic Latin to his little mistress, whom he never ventured to address more familiarly than f! - most illustrious and excellent lady,”

■’ your- highness,” and “ your excellency.” -■ When at r length the terms of the dowry ?uid %ettiemeiit had been agreed upon by ° the piunctifiausand exacting parents., tbe princess the Alhambra in May to proceed to England, but, owing to stormy weather, did not reach her adopted country till early in the russet days of October.

The marriage itself was celebrated in St. PaulV Cathedral, cm the 12th November-, at nine o’cloeh in the morning. The court, attended by the great dignitaries of the church in “ pontificalibus ” and the city authorities, went by water from Westminster I’alace to St Paul’s, The cathedial was hung with arras, and a giand stage was erected for the chief performers in the drama. We are told that it took nineteen bishops and abbots, with the Archbishop of Canterbury at their head, to solemnise. the. marriage The Prince and Princess were attired in pure white, aud attended by a “ great estate” of the first ladies and gentlemen o ' tlie land.. , Prince Arthur did not survive the marliage more than five months ; but it was not till his brother Henry came to the throne that-the Princess Catherine was united: to- him..

One of the most remarkable courting expeditions in which a prince of the blood ever engaged was probably that which took Charles the Pirst (when Prince of Wales) to Spain in 1623. Negotiations for a match between him and the Infanta had been going on for six years before ; biit, discontented with the delays of di plomacy,the ardent young prince resolved to try the effect of a personal application. So. Charles and Buckingham, under the names'of John and Thomas Smith (not the last, if it was the first time that royalty assumed that illustrious “ nora de voyage”), accompanied by a few gentlemen of the court and Archie Armstrong, the King’s fool, but, as has been justly said, “ not the least sagacious member of the party,” set off for Madrid. The Prince w3s well received at the Spanish court, splendidly lodged, and superbly feted; but little encouragement was given to his suit for the Infanta. At first he was allowed to see her only at a distance, “ she wearing a blue riband about her arm, that the Prince might distinguish her, and as soon as she saw him her colour rose very high.” Afterwards he was permitted to speak with her, but only in the presence of others, He would watch for horn’s in the street to meet her. Once he leaped over the wall of a garden where she was walking, and would have addressed her, had not the old marquis who was in waiting thrown himself on his knees and solemnly protested that his

head "would be in danger if the Prince - spoke a single word to his fair charge, i i -In forder to gain favour in the eyes of his m mistress, Charles rode at the ring and dis- " ‘ iinguished himself in the tilting ground, “to the glory of his fortune and the great contentment both of himself and the lookers-on.” He also lavished presents on the Princess and the chief personages of the coiirt. Jewels, over half a million in value, were consigned to Spain for this purpose. But, notwithstanding all the exertions of “ Babie Charles” and “ £ teenie,” the love mission did not prosper The Spanish King was insincere, and the people both of Spain and England were against it on religious grounds. After six months philandering, the Prince bet the English ambassador at Madrid 1000 Z against a “ fair diamond ” that in three weeks he would be mat of the country, and won the wager. Prinoe Charles did . not marry till after he was crowned. The fourth Prince of Wales who, m : that degree, entered the married state was Frederick, the eldest son of George the 11. His bride was Augusta of SaxeCoburg, a pleasant, good-natured girl, if not very brilliant or beautiful. Lord Delaware brought her to Greenwich on the 23rd of April (St. George’s Day), 1736. It was a Sunday when he arrived there, and only a few ladies and gentlemen of the court were in waiting to give her welcome. Ihe citizens, however, turned out in large numbers, and greeted her with enthusiastic cheering. The Princess was . lodged in the Queen’s House in the Park, were Prince Frederick came to pay his respects to her. The young couple dined and supped in public-—-that is with the windows of the apartment open, so as to “ oblige the curiosity of the people.” They also made an excursion up the river in a gaily decorated barge, amid salvos of artillery : and musketry and the blowing of many horns. On the Monday she proceeded to St. James’, being carried in a coach.to Lambeth, in a boat a<U’o;..- :I -'

Whitehall, and thence in a sedan-chair to St. James’s where she was introduced to the King and Queen. Next day the marriage took place, after a state dinner in the chapel of St, James’s, The bride was “ in her hair,” and wore a crown with one bar as Princess of Wales. Her robe was a “ virgin hkbit of silver’,” over whioh was thrown a mantle of crimson velvet bordered with row upon row of ermine and with a train attached. The bridesmaids, four in number, were also attired in dresses of silver tissue, and, like the Princess, were covered with a profusion of jewels. The booming of cannon announced to the world the completion of the cei’emony. Immediately afterwards a drawing-room was held, at which, the King and Queen gave the young couple therr- blessing, and at half-past ten there was a jolly supper party. Next followed the state reception in the bedroom. The bride and bridegroom, splendidly arrayed the former one in superb lace, and the other in “ silver stuff,” sat bolt upright in bed, while the King and Queen and lords and ladies in waiting filed past befoi’e them, offering their congratulations. His Majesty, we are told, wore a dress of gold bi’ocade turned up with silk, and embroidered with large flowers in silver and colours, with a waistcoat of the same, and buttons and star blazing with diamonds. Most of the peel’s were similarly dressed, ft being worthy of note that nearly all the stuffs “ were of the manufacture of England and in honour of our own artists.” Queen Caroline had on a plain yellow silk robe, with abundance of pearl and diamonds. This must have been among the last occasions when a bedroom reception was given. It soon after became a fashion of the past. Of the "last marriage of a Prince of Wales, when George IV. espoused Caroline of Brunswick, there is little to be said. The cold winter journey of the Princess to England, under the charge of Lord Malmesbury, who was always lecturing her on the untidiness ’of her dress and the freedom of her manners; her reception at Greenwich by her sneering rival Lady Jersey ; the silent ride to London, without a cheer from any one on the road ; the mutual disappointment of the affianced pair at their first interview ; the Prince’s demands for “A glass of brandy Harris,” and his precipitate retreat ; the Princess’s doleful exclamation, “ Moil Dieu, qu’il est gros !” and the ill-omened nuptials, at which the bride was sulky and for which the bridegroom had himself fortified somewhat too liberal libations — all these incidents combined to form by fit prelude to the unhappy drama which ensued.

It is pleasant to turn from this sad story to the marriage on which the hopes of the nation are just now fixed, which combines all the elements of happiness and all the omens of good, and which is, no doubt, destined to form one of the brightest episodes in the story of the wooings and wedding of the P rincess of Wales.

Spectre Drama.— At the Polytechnic Institution, in London, a clever and startling entertainment, called the Spectre D rama, has done a great deal to ridicule and expose the pretensions of the rappers, and callers-up ol‘ the departed. Two performances 'a day scarcely seem to satisfy the crowds who flock to witness it ; for natural magic, although it has shown us many wonders, has never before produced anything so striking. By a scientific apparatus —the invention sof a Mr. Dircks—a solid representation of a human being is thrown into the centre of a stage, and is made to appear and disappear at will without the aid of any visible agency,. Whilst essentially solid and real, the image is surrounded by a faint halo light, just sufficient to give it a supernatural character. It can be cut through with a sword or a hatchet, or can be walked through by a spectator, without being demolished, or it can be changed in an instant for another image. Tlie counterfeit presentment, of any person e&n be thrown upon the stage by Mr. Dircks’ contrivance. The startling optical trick will doubtless soon be introduced at our theatres, and applied to the improvement of our supernatural dramas. Banquo’s ghost—the spirits in the cauldron—the spectre in the Corsican Brothers, and even the ghost in Hamlet might he well represented in this way. It is not impi-obable that some active dramatist may jump at the idea of writing round it, and making it the basis of a new spectre drama. “ Papa, didn’t you whip me once for biting Tommy ? ” “Yes, my child ; you hurt him much.” “ Well, then, papa, you ought to whip sister’s music-master two, for he bit sister yesterday right on the mouth : and I know it hurt her, because she put her arms around his neck, and tried to choke him.”

Not long ago a youth older in wit than in years, after being catechised concerning the power of nature, replied, “ Now I think, there’s one thing that nature can’t do.” “What is it, my child 1 ?” “ She can’t make Dan Braiser’s mouth any bigger without settin’ his ears back.”

We heard a good stoi’y the other night of two persons, engaged in a duel. After the first fire one of the seconds pi’oposed that they should shake hands and make it up. The other second said he saw no particular necessity for that, for their hands had been shaking ever since they began?” Hot Guilty.- —“ Julius, did you ever speak in public?” “In course I did nigga.” “ Whar,” “ At the perlice.” “ And what did you say ? ” “ Hot guilty ! Mr. Snow. What else could a gentleman ■say under de powessh a ob de suckumstances. A wag says of a woman—To her virtue we give love ; to her beauty, admiration ,

LARD PURCHASES. [From Old New Zealand , by a Pakeha-Maori,]

I now purchased a piece of land and built a “ castle ” for myself. I really can’t tell to the present day' who I purchased the land from, for there were about fifty different claimants, every one of whom assured me that the forty-nine were “ humbugs,” and had no right whatever. The nature of the different titles of the different claimants were various. One man said his ancestors had killed off the first owners ; another declared his ancestors had driven off the second party ; another man, who seemed to be listened to with more respeot than ordinary, declared that his ancestors had been the first possessors of all, and had never been ousted, aud that this ancestor was a huge lizard that lived in a cave on the land many years ago, and sure enough there was the cave to prove it. Besides the principal claims there were an immense number of secondary ones—a sort of latent equities—which had lain dormant until it was known the Pakeha had his eye on the land. Some of them seemed to me at the time odd enough. One man required payment because his ancestors, as he affirmed, had exercised the right of catching rats on it, but which he (the claimant) had never done, for the best of reasons, i.e., there were no rats to catch, except indeed pakeha rats, which were plenty enough, but this variety of rodent was not counted as game. Another claimed because his grandfather had been murdered on the land, and—as 1 am a veracious pakeha—another claimed because his grandfather had committed the murder ! Then half the country claimed payments of various value, from one fig of tobacco to a musket, on account of a certain wahi tapu , or ancient burvingground, which was on the land, and in which almost every one had had relations or rather ancestors buried, as they could clearl} T make out, in old times, though no one had been deposited in it for about two hundred years, and the bones of the others had been, as they said,'-removed long ago to a rorere in the mountain. It seemed an awkward circumstance that there was some difference of opinion, as to where this same wahi tapu was situated, being, and lying, for in case of my buying the land it was stipulated that I should fence it round and make no use of it, although I had paid for it. (I, however, have put off fencing until the exact boundaries have been made out; and indeed I don’t think I shall ever be called on to do so, the fencing proviso having been made, as 1 now believe, to give a stronger look of reality to the existence of the sacred spot, it having been observed that I had some doubts on the subject. No mention was ever made of it after the payments had been all made, so .1 think I may venture to affirm that the existence of the said wahi tapu is of very doubtful authenticity, though it certainly cost me a round “ lot of trade.”) There was one old man who obstinately persisted in declaring that he, and he alone, was the sole and rightful owner of the land ; he seemed also to have a “fixed idea” about certain barrels of gunpowder; but as he did not prove his claim to my satisfaction, and as he had no one to back him, I of course gave him nothing ; he nevertheless demanded the gunpowder about once a month for five-and-twenty years, till at last he died of old age, and T am now a landed proprietor, clear of all claims and demands, and have an undeniable right to hold my estate as long as ever I am able. It took about three months’ negotiation before the purchase of the land could he made ; and, indeed, I at one time gave up the idea, as I found it impossible to decide who to pay If I paid one party, the others vowed I should never have possession, and to pay all seemed impossible ; so at last I let all parties know that I had made up my mind not to have the land. This, however, turned out to be the first step I had made in the right direction ; for, thereupon, all the different 'claimants agreed amongst themselves to demand a certain quantity of goods, and divide them amongst themselves afterwards. I was glad of this, for I wished to buy the land, as I thought, in case I should ever take a trip to the “ colonies,” it would look well to be able to talk of “ my estate iii New Zealand.” The day being now come on which 1 was to make the payment, and all parties present, I then and there handed over to the assembled mob the price of the land, consisting of a great lot of blankets, muskets, tomahawks, tobacco, spades, axes, &c. ; and receiving in return a very dirty piece of paper with all their marks on it, I having written the terms of transfer on it. in English to my own satisfaction. The cost per acre to me was, as near as can be, about five and a half times the same quantity of land would have cost me at the same time in Tasmania ; but this was not of much importance, as the value of land in New Zealand then, and indeed now, being chiefly imaginary, one could just as easily suppose it to be of a ver} great value as a very small one ; I therefore did not complain of tlie cost. SMOKING. I will mention here that my first antagonist, “ The Eater of Melons,” became a great friend of mine. He was my right hand man and manager when I set up my house on my own account, and did me many friendly services in the course of my acquaintance with him. He came to an unfortunate end some years later. The tribe were getting ready for a war expedition ; poor Melons was filling cartridges from a fifty pound barrel of gunpowder, pouring the powder into the cartridges with his hand, and smoking his pipe at the time, as .1 have seen the natives doing fifty times since ; a spai’k fell into the cask, and it is scarcely

roasted alive in a second, I have known three other accidents of the same kind, from smoking, whilst filling cartridges. In one of these aocidents three lives were lost, and many injured; and I really do believe that the certainty of death will not prevent some of the natives from smoking for more than a given time. I have often seen infants refuse the mother’s breast, and cry for the pipe till it was given to them ; and dying natives often ask for a pipe, and die smoking. I can clearly perceive that the young men of the present day are neither so tall, or stout, or strong, as men of the same age were when I first came to the country ; and I believe that this smoking from their infancy is one of the chief causes of.this decrease in strength and stature. SUICIDE. Talking of by-gone habits and customs of the natives, I remember I have mentioned two cases of suicide. I shall, therefore, now take occasion to state that no more marked alteration in the habits of the natives has taken place than in the great decrease of the cases of suicide. In the first years of my residence in the country, it; was of almost daily occurrence When a man died, it was almost a matter of course that his wife, or wives, hung themselves. When the wife died, the man very commonly shot himself. I have known young men, often on the most trifling affront or vexation, shoot themselves ; and I was acquainted with a man who, having for two days been plagued with the toothache, cut his throat with a very blunt razor, without a handle, as a radical cure, which it certainly was. I do not believe that one case of suicide occurs now for twenty when I first came into the country. Indeed, the last case I have heard of in a populous district, occurred several years ago. It was rather «a remarkable one. , A native owed another a few shillings; the creditor kept continually asking for it •; but the debtor, somehow or other, never could raise the cash. At last being out of patience, and not knowing anything of the Insolvent Court, he loaded his gun, went to the creditor’s house, and called him out. Out came the creditor and his wife. The debtor then placed the gun to his breast, and saying, “ Here is your payment,” pulled the trigger with his foot, and fell dead before them. I think the reason suicide has become so comparatively unfrequent is, that the minds of the natives are now filled and agitated by a flood of new ideas, new wants and ambitions, which they knew not formerly, and which prevents them, from one single loss or disappointment, feeling as if there was nothing more to live for.

WHEAT GROWN FROM OATS AND BARLEY. The origin of our various cereals was long a subject of doubt to scientific agriculturists, and numerous experiments were tried with a view of ascertaining it. The general developement of a wheat from a grass resembling rye grass, by a .French Gentleman, by means of careful cultivation and selection carried on during a long series of years, was one result of these experiments : but the direction in which the attention of the bulk of enquirers turned, was determined by the well-known fact that in any abandoned wheat cultivation, oats spring up : . spontaneously, and gradually displace the selfsown wheat, previously to the entire disappearance of both. Experiments proved that the wheat actually degenerated into oats, but for a time nothing further was arrived at with any cer ainty. The converse of the proposition has now been proved, as will be seen by the following letter, dated Wappe'nham, near Towcester, Northamptonshire, which appears in a late number of the Berkshire Chronicle : “ In answer to your letter, dated December 2, it is a positive fact that I grew both wheat and barley from oats. The wheat I continued to grow up to last yeai', but in consequence of the crop going off I was obliged to fill it up with spring wheat. The wheat I grew from the Dutch oat was a beautiful quality, small seed, weight 651 b. per bushel, light-coloured chaff, fine straw and blade. The wheat I grew for about 10 years, and sold lots of it to my neighbours for seed. Now I am growing a coarser wheat that a neighbour of mine grew from the Poland oat. That is a much stronger straw and larger ear, but is very apt to mildew the last few seasons. The way I adopted was to plant it thin, under a sheltered wall, the middle of June ; it then will require to be cut off about one inch from the ground before coming into bell three times the first season ; the following-year' it' produces the wheat I speak of. Many people saw it when growing ; it was a very thin berry the first year. The difliculty is in keeping the root to stand the winter. At the Towcester Union their’s produce barley, and mine lias the same from a coarse oat. Black oats will produce rye same way. You are quite at liberty to make use of my name. “ From yours truly, “ William Cowper” Quite Settled.— An editor of an Ohio paper writes to his subscribers : “ We hope our friends will overlook our irregularities for the past few Sveeks. We are now permanently located in the county gaol, with sufficient force to ensure the regular issue of our paper for the future.’

“ India, my bov,” said an Irishman to a friend on his arrival at Calcutta “ is jist the finest climate under the sun ; but > a lot of young fellows come out here, and they dhi ink and they ate and they dhrink and they die ; and thin they write home to their friends, a peck o’lies, and say it’;? the climate as has killed ’em.”

HORSE BREAKING. [From the Nelson Colonist , June I.] •

Sir, —Among the various occupations that fall to the lot of one in the colonies, one among the number that has fallen to myself has been that of horse breaking, and from the vicious and cruel means frequently resorted to by the professional horse breakers, I thought my own experience of the far greater efiicacy of humane and common sense methods, might be acceptable to your readers. “ Horse breaking !” is a very appropriate term for the modes of treatment I am about condemning, but “ horse teaching ,> is a more suitable one for the means I recommend for making a horse acquainted with the things expected of him, and familiar with the handling the tackle, and circumstances he will have to endure in becoming a useful animal, instead of being a grazing one. It is only natural to suppose that from the very delicacy of its organization, the horse is highly sensitive to fear and the various instincts of self-preservation, and also that the best horses are the most so, and from cruelty in breaking often become what are called the moat “ vicious.”’ For my own part, I believe the horse is naturally inclined io do what is wanted of him, and is partial to man’s society ; but before it am obey it must understand what is required of it. And can it be wondered at, that a young tiring that has. always been used to run at liberty, when driven in to the stock-yard and assailed with whips, and ropes, and all kinds of breaking tackle, should resist and try to free itself from such treatment ? One would think that a moment’s reflection would convince anyone that it is nothing but what might be looked for, and no proof of either vice or intractability. In proof, however, that the view I take of the cause of fractiousness in horses is the right one,: I will now speak of the different results of an opposite kind of treatment, which I have practised, and which has entirely confirmed me in my good opinion of the horse, and my bad opinion .of the so-called “horse breaker ” —-his want of sense, his want of patience, and want of humanity. As I have said before, a horse naturally feels strange and alarmed at being driven in from its usual routine of grazing and roaming with its associates, and the first thing to be done is to reconcile him to this as gently as possible. Your presence in the small space a stock-yard affords, will be quite as much as he can bear at first, and he will stare, and look wildly about for a means of escape ; but if you keep moving about at a little distance; speaking gently and avoiding everything that excites his fear, his alarm will- gradually subside, upon which you can come closer and lay hold of a long stick (which with a halter should be previously placed for him to smell and take notice of) and begin moving it, which will be a fresh source of apprehension, but if you continue to proceed in the same manner I am speaking of, he will soon take no more notice of it in your hand, than he did when it was lying on the ; ground. When he will bear you moving the stick about, you can next proceed to touch him with it, when he will start away, but you must follow him up, and when he has settled down again, which he will soon do with gentle .words, you can touch him again, and so proceed till you can rub his neck with the stick. I grant that it may be some hours before yon can do this in an open yard, and that it requires a good . deal of patience to proceed in this way, but you get amply rewarded in the end. But to return, you gradually shorten.your hold of the stick, till your hand is close by his side, and by degrees you... will be able to touch him with your hand, and pat him, but you will find it best to hold the halter in your hand and let him smell it, and most likely he will bite it and play with it, which is all so much the better. By proceeding in this way and with the aid of the stick yon will get the halter on, in an open yard, in from two to four hours; the bridle and bit is easily added, and then the best thing is to let the horse, go till the next day, with or without the halter on his head.

I will not make myself tedious by explaining how, I put the saddle on, and back the horse. I will merely state that it is the same gentle and gradual means, letting the horse see and smell the saddle and bridle before I attempt to put them an him, . then touch them against him, and let him become so familiar with the sight, sound and feel of them that he takes no notice, and in fact gets into a dreamy half-sleepy state under the process. ' Then I don’t leap into the saddle for the first time, and stai'tle the horse with my weight all at once, but bear a hand on one stirrup harder and harder'— get him used to the jingling sound, flap the stirrups against him till he .takes no notice of them, then lean on the saddle and gradually mount him. By this means a horse can be made fit for riding with out taking an ounce of flesh of his bones, without spoiling his temper and spirit, and without inducing any bad habits. He will feel confident that you mean him no harm, because you have*' done him none, and will face anything, and go anywhere that is practicable for a horse to go, and although at the beginning it, may seem a slower process than the flash methods too generally in use, in the end it will be much the quickest ; for your horse, with liis life, and strength, and spirits, in air these will be gentle, obedient, and fearless, whereas with the rasher plan he would still be unridable except by a good horseman, or only quiet because too weak to do any harm, or be any good, besides having in a Improbability acquired vicious or bad habits of shying, bucking, or bolting, or some other equally dangerous and objectionable practices. An Amateuh. Nelson, J ne H

Drinking Impure Water.— Set a pitcher of iced water in a room inhabited and in a few hours it will have absorbed from the room nearly all the respired and perspired gases of the room, the air of which will .have become purer, but the water utterly filthy. This depends on the fact that the water has the faculty of condensing, and thereby absorbing all the gases, which it does without increasing its own bulk. The colder the water is, the greater its capacity to contain these gases. At ordinary temperature a pint qf water will contain a pint of carbonic acid gas, and several pints of ammonia. This capacity is nearly doubled by reducing the temperature to that of ice. Hence water kept in the room awhile, is always unfit for use, and should be often renewed whether it has become warm or not. And for the same reason, the water iti a pump-stock should always be pumped out in the morning before any is used. That which has stood in the pitcher over night is not fit for coffee in the morning. Impure water is more injurious to the health than impure air, and every person should provide the feeans of obtaining fresh pure water for all domestic purposes. QUEER EPITAPHS. Poor Martha Snell, burs gone away, Hur would if hur could, but bur couldn’t stay, Hur bad two. sore legs, and a baddish corf, Bub her-legs it was as canned her off. ON MR.. STRANGE,'A LAWYER. If ere lies- an honest lawyer, And that’s Strange; Here lies John Bram. - Who was killed by » giro. His name wasn’t Burin, But his real name was; Wood - But Wood wouldn't rhyme with gun, So I thought Burin should. Here lies me and my 3 daughters; . We was killed of drinking Harrogate watersIf we’d only stuck to Epsom salts,. We shouldn’t haT been lying in these here vaults. . ON A SOLDIER. John Macpherson was a remarkable person p He stood 6 feet 2 without his shoe, ‘ ■ Aud he was slew at Waterloo. A Settler for “ Him”. —The correct answer to the gentleman who wrote thesong, “ Why did I marry ?” most likely would be, “ Because your wife was. foolish 1 ” Neat. —-A clergyman being muchpressed by a lady of his acquaintance to preach a sermon the first Sunday after her marriage, complied, and chose the following passage in the Psalms as his; text; “ And there shall be abundance of peace—while the moon enclureth.” : Advice to a Toper. —Don’t let your spirits go down. Schoolmaster —“ Boy, c f what gender is cliair V’ “ Masculine ” “ Why 1” Because it has four legs •” Love or Toothache. —Put two persons in the same bedroom, one of whom, has the toothache and the other is in love, and the person who has the toothache will get to sleep first.— American Paper. A candidate for a registrarship in Texas: offered if appointed, to register marriages for nothing. His opponent, undismayed, promised to do the same,, and throw a cradle in. Of course the later was successful. A musician near Eccles,. in Lancashire one George Sharp, had his name painted on the door thus—“ G. Sharp.” A wag of a painter, who knew something of music, early one morning made the following significant undeniable addition—“ i 3 A flat.

More Wit than Money. —A boy about six years of age entered a shop in Dundee and asked for a pint of canary seed. As he had no money to pay for it the shopkeeper (to whom the boy was. well known), wishing to ascertain whether he had been sent by bis parents -or by any other party, asked, “ Is that seed for your roither, my mannie ?” “No,” said the boy, “ it’s for the bird.”

Holloway's Ointment and Pills. Female complaints.—Many complaints arise in women from neglect or inattention duririg youth. Then is the fitting time to reduce all functional disturbances to order; once set right, no further irregularities will-occur: , Holloway’s Ointment well rubbed down the whole length of the spine thrice a day corrects all derangements both of nerves and circulation. •It may be used with, the most perfect confidence. In all the ailments dependent upon excessive nervous sensibility, it is a specific, such as no discovery has heretofore presented. ; Holloway’s Ointment, aided by the internal use of bis: frills, is a healing balm in cases of ill health arising from over susceptible nerves so frequently affecting our wives and daughters. -