Newspaper Page Text
I. CHRIST?
EDITOR.
SERIES—VOL. HI., NO. ,28.
VOLUME IVn. NUMBER 40
ATHENS, THURSDAY, JANUARY 10, 1850.
UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA USRARV
jffiisnllamj.
fPntjsiiSE (£ntbrring5.
OUR OWN FIRESIOC,
ranJcro! hr, I'to waovlcred wide
t country »a«t and ki;
till my own dear fire* idej
the only hearth tor me.
gy to throw a brighter glow.
£wrtffl pDftnj.
I. of friends has we!
Tord* that cheer tlie heart,
a language find
Brilliaat Repartee.
!. The dexterous leap of thought, by
j which the mind escapes from a seem
ingly hopeless dilemma, is worth all the
} vestments of dignity which the world
' holds. It was this readiness in repar-
j tee which continually saved Voltaire
! from social overturn. He once praised
j another writer very heartily to a third
i person. • It is very strange,* was. the
j reply, that you speak so well of him, for
' he says that you are a charlatan.*
plied Voltaire, ‘ I think it very likely
8it cloudy by" I ho
Enjoying ihu la-t pnjH.r—
,l: how work thus helps
Just think ..fhi
To w«*-jiw»jrtJie Wi
ml put thi«qiwry toy.
■m~ I mmM tie Print',
How can you for i
, Nrglrct to pay the J'r inter !
Tour other bills you promptly pay,
Wherevst you do go. sir— "
The butcher fi»r hi* roi-ut is paid.
For “sundries" is the grocer:
the change,
dsalong thus'
di spot of blue,
No swarthy clouds along Uhi sky
aibled sleep,
be well To-morrow"
Kite spoke of her jaior stricken boy,
mt pain was sorely pres
And though To-day refused a joy,
k Hut lirings us I tick the medicin
Hut l.a.k tiki
I Of fancy peeping through
A mother closed tier wenrv
I
Am
Bay c
war.
That sooeths our ills to-day.
And like the muon from whom the night
Its fairest look must borrow.
So Hope, an Angel, winged with light,
Lends glory to tho Morrow.
jUnmnrans Srlrrta.
Davy Harris.
Any body that’s lived in G*alveston
Bay could tell you who Dave Harris
War. I reckon ho won’t disremember
hr* first surveying expedishun in a hur
He '
that botbofus may be mistaken.* Agai
you must all have heard the anecdote
of the young gentleman who was dis
coursing very dogmatically about the
appropriate sphere of woman. ‘ And
pray, sir,* screamed out aa old lady,
* what is the appropriate sphere of wo
man?’ ‘ A celestial sphere, madam !’
Robert Hall did not lose his power of
J retort even in madness. A hypocritical
condolcr with his misfortunes once v"
ited him in the mad-house, and said,
a whining tone, ‘ What brought you
here, Mr. Hall?’ Hall significantly touch
ed his brow with his finger, and replied,
‘ What’ll never bring3 r ou,sir,—too much
brain.’ A rapid change from enthusiasm
to nonchalance is often necessary in so
ciety. Thus a person once eloquently
eulogizing the angelic qualities of Joan
of Arc, was suddenly met by the petu
lant question, * What was Joan of Arc
made of! • She was Maid of Orleans.’
A Yankee is, never upset by the aston
ishing. He walks among the Alps with
his hands in his pockets, and the smoke
of his cigar is seen among the mists of
Niagara. One of this class sauntered
into the office of the lightning telegraph,
and asked how long it would take to
transmit a message to Washington.
* Ten minutes,* was the reply. • 1 can’t
wait,* was the rejoinder. Sheridan,
who never was without a reason, never
failed to extricate himself in any emer
gency by his wit. At a country house,
where he was once on a visit, an el
derly maiden lady desired to be his
companion in a walk. He excused
himself at first on the ground of the
baducss of the weather. She soon af
terwards, however, intercepted him in
an attempt to escape without her.—
* Well,’ she said, * it is cleared up, I
see.* • Why, yes,’ he answered, it has
cleared enough for one. but not enough
for two.* It was this readiness which
made John Randolph so terrible in re
tort. He was the Tbersites of Con
gress, a longuc-stabbcr. Nd hyperbole !
of conlempl or scorn coOUfLc launched i
against him, but he could overtop it with
something more scornful and contempt* j
uous. Opposition only maddened him !
into more brilliant bitterness. • Isn’t
A natron’s Opinion of Girls.
There are hundreds of girls in every
city, who parade the streets in feathers,
silks and laces, whose hands are Soft
and white as uselessness can make
them, whose mothers keep boarders to
get a living for their idle daughters.—
These mothers will cook, sweep, wait
on tables, carry loads of marketing, do
the most menial drudgery, toil late and
early, with very little clothing; while
their hopeful daughters spend their
mornings lounging in bed, reading some
silly book, taking lessons in music and
French, fixing the finery and the like.
The evenings are devoted to dressing,
displaying their ebarmsand accomplish
ments to the best advantage, for the
Let no man, who is in anything above
his fellows, claim, as of right, to be val
ued or understood; the vulgar great
are compehended or adored, because
they are in reality in the same moral
plane with those who_ admire; but he
who deserves the higher reverence,
must himself convert the worshipper.—
The pure and lofty life; the generous
and tender use of the rare creative facul
ty ; the brave endurance of neglect and
ridicule: the strange &u4 cruel end of
so much genius and so much virtue—
these are the lessons by which the sym
pathies of mankind mutt be interested,
and their faculties educated, up to the
love of such a character and the
prehension of such' -an intelligent
Still the lovers and scholars will be
few ; still the rewards*©! fa mt: will be
dermcnl and ad miration of the knights of j scan ’ t y and ill-proportioned; no accu
se yards:,ck, and young aspirants for, of kno i. le( | go or series of ex-
professional bonors-dociors without pa- • • ■ - ■
tients, lawyers without clients—who art
as brainless and soulless as themselves.
After a while the piano-pounding sim
pleton captivates a tape-measuring, law
expounding, or pill-making simpleton.
The two ninnies spend every cent that
can be raised by hook or crook-get all | i( they 0Ilce col0cidedi ltie problem of
that can be got on credtl in broad cloth, be solvedi Bnd ‘ lhe hopc>
penences can teach the meaning of g<
nius to those who look for it in additions
and results, any more than the numbers
stud.ded round a planet’s orbit could
approach nearer infinity than a single
unit. The world of thought must re-
maiu apart from the world of action, for,
satin, flowers, lace, carriage, attend
ance, etc,—hang their empty pockets in
somebody’s chair, lay their emty heads
on somebody’s pillow, and commence
their empty life with no other prospect
than living at somebody’s expense—
with no other purpose than living gen
teelly, and spiting the neighbors. This
is a synopsis of the lives of thousands
of street and ball-room belles, . per
haps of some whose shining costume
you have envied from a passing glance.
Thousands of women in cities dress ele
gantly on the streets, who have not a su
fficiency uf wholesome food, a comforta
ble bed, or fire enough to warm their
rooms. I once boarded in a 'genteel
boarding-house,* in Louisville. There
were \wo young ladies and a piano in
the house—hall and parlors handsomely
furnished. The eldest young lady, the
belle, wore a summer-bonnet at ten dol
lars—a silk and blond concern that
could not last more than three months
—silk and satin dresses at two, three
and four dollars per yard, and five dol
lars apiece for making them, and the
entire family, women, boys and babies,
nine in all, slept in one small room,
with two dirty bags of pine shavings,
two straw bolsters, and three dirty
quilts, tor bedding—no^sheets, nh slips
! !.’"!» «haine, Mr. President,’ said be
•you see catched, but he allowed lie wui , . ^ , ... .. , „
yillired knowing—erne of tlico, Moo day to the Senate, • thaMhc noble bull-
smart’ ones I preached about a smart!
piece ng ~
that lool
of the administration should be
on dried codfish tails, lie war so thi
and dry. You’d laflcd if you could have
seen his rig for the first expedishun; lie
had more blankets nnd riggin than
would Imvc snrvcd out a dozen, nnd his
saddle were hung around with coffee
pots and tin cups, till it looked jest like
a tin peddler’s wagon a iiorseback, and
as for spurs, he’d mounted the biggest
pair 1 ever see, good six inches across
the rowel. The first night we camped
out war on Clear Creek whnr he’d stak
ed out, and wc war a sitting around the
lire on the ground, a tclliu big snake
stories for Dave’s edification, when all
of a sudden he jump, gin a most onarlh-
ly yell; and then keeled up.
* Oh, Lord!* says he—Ob, Lord !!
Oh, Lord ! ! !*
•Why, what’s the matter, Dave?’
says 1. .
Oh, Lord! I’m a dead man; tear out
my hat linin and. give me a chunk of
coal, I want to make my will directly.
Oh, Lord, Oh Lord, that 1 should have
Jed by a rallies sale
• A rattlesnake ?’ scs I. • Hurrah, boy;
bunt him up! artcr him, or else some
of the rest on us’ll catch it!
Well, wc stirred up the fire till it gave
m powerful light and hunted all around,
but could’nt see no sign of any thing
I .. a snake, so we give it up, atid all
irands went to see what wc could do
lor Dave. He said he war bit whar he
set on, and we inspected pretty close,
but we could’ut find nothing very seri
ous—lhar was’ntany swelling nor noth- . in ..
ing ot that son lo speak on, and finally , U P™. < ha ' aab J a « ’ ,
begot roore docioui and gin up that hi!.. <l ° n ., 1 know ’ *' r ’ sa,d ll '° 0, ' , . er -
waMU again to make ndio of i« that! ‘ e “'R 11 ‘ 9 . hat P aS ’ S « h.ch
lime, but be .war it warn snake bit i 8
him only be reckoned he’d jumpt up so j •
t mighty spry that the varmint bad'nij “Will you not have a Daily SunT*
Up lime to get the pisen in. He come up said a news boy to Mrs. Partington.
ly the Senate was in an uproar, and he
was clamorously culled to order. The
presiding officer, however, sustained
liim ; and pointing his long, skinny fin
gers at his opponents, Randolph
screamed out,* rats, did I say? mice,
A sailor about being married, could
not find change enough to pay for the
parson’s fee. The reverend gentleman,
unwilling to lie the couple without the
accustomed fee, demurred. Jack, plac
ing his hand in his pocket, drew out a
few shillings, saying: Never mind,
brother, marry ns as far as it trill go!"
“ Miss, \3yll you take my arm ?”
“ La, yes, and you, loo.”
'* Can’t spare but the arm, Miss,” has
tily replied the old bachelor.
“ Then, said Miss, I can’t take it, as
my motto is to •* go the whole hog or
none.” *
The following toast was given at the
uit the place whar 1 lived to home festival held by the typographical craft
n east to come Out. here and be kil- of New York city, on Wendesdy, 17th
city, on Wendesdy,
memory of Benjamin Frank-
of April,
lin:
“ The Press—It ex-presses truth—re
presses eiror—im-presses knowledge
and op-presses none.”
We thought this too good to he sup
pressed, and therefore publish it.
•* Did I not give yod a flogging the
other day,’- said a schoolmaster to a
trembling urchin.
** Yes, sir,” answered the boy.
Well, what does the Scripture say
—and there on the wall hung the pea-
green, and white satin, the rich silk and
lawn dresses. These ladies did not
work, but played the piano, accordion
and cards; and nearly broke their hearts
the week we were there, because an
other, who I presume lived just as they
did, called on them with a great clum
sy gold chain on her neck. None of
them had one, Miss Lablinda, the belle,
could eat no supper, and had a fit of
the sulks to console her for the want of
a chain.—Mrs. Swisshe/m.
Wbat is Prejudice?
Prejudice is the contrast of judgment,
since it anticipates reflection. It has
olten been acknowledged that precipi
tation of thought, as well as of speech,
entails very fatal consequences ; and
that the man who, through life, can
wisely steer clear of the double incon
venience, deserves the appellation of
happy. He thinks, and thinks again,
before he lets his tongue mingle in the
flow of conversation, and consults his
inmost self ere he ventures to decide.
He has also learned by experience, that
Nature has its mask, Science its obscu
rities, the World its artifices, and Merit
its enemies ; and, he consequently nev
er determines, without having first deep
ly searched into the matter. He lifts
the veil that enfolds each object, and
discovers that it would be madness to
judge too harshly and at first sight.
What would the result be, if we trust
ed to our eyes only ? Why, the sun
would be pronounced lo turn around the
earth, instead of the latter encircling
the orb of day.
The prejudices of a single mind can
easily be destroyed ; but when they
have been reduced into regular systems,
and found tbeir way into social circles
formed to accredit them, there is no
remedy.
which wc call heaven, would be realiz
ed on earth. And therefore men
“ Are cradled into poetry by wrong:
They learn in suffering what lhey teach in song.
A Woman’s Adrautage.
A woman can say what she likes to
you, without the risk of being knocked
down for it.
She can take a snooze after dinner,
while her husband has got logo to
work.
She can dress herself in neat and tidy
calicoes foi a dollar, which her husband
has to earn and fork over.
She can go into the street without be
ing obliged to “ treaPL-ot every coffee
house.
She can paint her face if she is too
pale, or flour it, if too red.
She can stay at home in time of war,
and wed again if her husband is killed.
She can wear corsets if too thick and
other “fixtures” if too thin.
She can run into debt all over,
until the husband warns the public, by
advertising, not lo trust per on his ac
count any longer.
A Ci
T[ie (highest^.
havd of-a gee?^
derstands theyff^P^Us own sojil
and is continually exerting,that power
for the promotion of good ; is one who
cherishes a deep and solemn sense of
the sacredness of duty, be the conse
quences never so injurious to his inter
ests ; is one who in matters of religion
lends nought but a deaf ear to the loud
voice of sects, nought but a blind eye
to all party creeds, but scans the work
of nature, the revelations in scriptures,
the yearnings of the soul; is one who
is ever ready to execute infiexiblejustice-
how much soever it mey affect his in
terests ; is one who rebukes all evil,
however high the transgressor stands j
is one whose sympathies always es
pouse the cause of the oppressed, the
down-trodden and injured.
to tho fire again and dropped on his j 41 Will I have a daily son? Why y-ou
knees \ which war the way he’d been • little scape-grace! How dare you in-
sittin afore,) then he sunk down till the ! sinuate against a lone woman from
biggest part of him hit on his heels, andhome ? No indeed—I guess I won’t
the mioit it did, up he jumped again have a daily son ! My dear poor man
aud yelled out— j used to complain awfully wben.Ipre-
• Snake ! snake! snnkc!’ , sented him with a yearly son. A daily
•Shetnp,’ seal ‘you doron- no-ac-J son, indeed. Begone, you little upstart
cornl critter, if you can’t tell a darn fool \ imp!” and the old lady called for the
£ a*>f spurs from a rattlesnake, ye’d jold turkey fan to.keep her from swoon-
cst staid 10 home and sent your old {ing.
woman a land hunting.*,
The Crown of Hungary has not been
. discovered by tho Austrians. Kossuth
A person looking nt some skeletons; concealed it, no one knows where.
— r- — ... .v«.v miiwaiwi ,,, une Knows waere.—
the other day, asked a young doctor It was received by the first king of the
present where he got them. He repli- j Majjars from Pope Sylvester 7* in the
cd— i% We rawed them!" ^ I year 1000.
Omnibus Business in New York.
An omnibus driver communicates
some interesting statistics to the Eve
ning Post:
We have three hundred and seventy-
six licensed omnibuses now running,
owned by some dozen or more different
proprietors. Each omnibus costs, new
$550, making their aggregate cost $206,-
800. Each omnibus earns, on an aver
age, S10 a day, and S3,000 a year.—
The whole earn $3,760 per day, and
$1,128,000 a year. Their expenses are
always rated at $5 each, per day, and
$1,500 a year, making the aggregate
cost of the whole $564,000 a year.—
The profit, therefore, of each omnibus
to its.proprietor is $5 a day, and SI,500
a year; and the nett profit of all the
omnibuses ia the city is $564,000.
Rev. Peter Rogers, aged niuety-ninc
years, four months and ten days, died
in Waterloo, III., on the 4th ult. He
was one of Washington’s Life Guard,
in the war of Independence, and per^
baps the last of that noble band.
The Poor Boy’s College.—“The
printing office,” says the New York
Globe, “ has indeed proved a better
college to many a poor boy—has grad
uated more useful and conspicuous
members of society—has matured more
intellect, and turned it into practical,
useful channels; awakened more mind,
generated more active^ and elevated
thought—than any of the literary col
leges of the country. How many a
drone has passed through these colleges,
with no tangible proof of his fitness oth
er than his inanimate piece of parch
ment, himself more inanimate than his
leathern diploma ?—-There is something
in the very atmosphere of a printing of
fice caculated to awak^p. the mind and
inspire A thirst of knowledge. Aboy who
commences in such a school will have
his talents brought outs if he has no
mind to be drawn out, the boy himself
will bodrmm-eutJ^r*-
Honest Farmer.
Two farmers having a dispute as to
some land, an action aLlaw was com
menced to determine it. On the day
fixed for the trial, one of them called
on his opponent to accompany him to
the court, that each migbvgive his own
statements of the case. Finding his
neighbor at work in bis field, he said lo
him, “Is it possible you have forgotti
nur cansn ia In hp. rtpridprl f/wtntr 9’’.
cause is to be decided to-day ?”—
“No,” said the other, “I have not for
gotten it, but I cannot vjell spare time to
go. You will be there, and I know you
are an honest man, and will state the
case fairly, and^justice will be done.”
And so it proved; for the farmer stat
ed hi3 neighbor’s claims so clearlv, that
the cause was derided against himself,,
and he returned to inform his opponent
tRal.he had gained the property. Such
a character is worth more than the
wealth of the Indies.
On Mr, Jefferson being presented to
the’French Court, some eminent func
tionary said to him—“you replace Dr.
Franklin, sir ?” “ I succeed Dr. Frank
lin,” was the reply—no m;
place bim!”
The Beggar aud (he Banker.
^ “Do you take notice that God has
given me a soul and body, just as good
for all the purposes of thiuking, eating,
drinking, and taking my pleasure as he
has you, and then \*ou may remember
Dives and Lazarus, as we pass. Then
again, it is a free country, and here,
too, we are on an equality; for, you
must know, that here even a beggar’s
dog may look a gentleman in the face,
with as much indifference as he would _
brother. You and I have the same
common master; are equalty free, live
equally easy; are both traveling the
same journey, bound to the same place,
and both have to die and be buried in
the .end.”
“ But,” observed the Banker, inter-
rupting,.“do you pretend there is then
no difference' between a beggar and
banker?”
“Not in the least,” rejoined the other,
with the utmost readiness; “not in the
least, as to essentials. You swagger and
driuk wine, in company of your own
choosing; I swagger and drink beer,
which 1 like better than your wine, in
company which I like better than yotii
company. You make thousands a day,
perhaps : I make a shilling: if you are
concerned, I am ; we’re equally happj-
at uight. You dress in new clothes ; I
am just as comfortable in old ones, and
have no trouble in keeping them from
soiling. If I have less property than
you, I have less to care about. II few
er friends, I have less friendship to lose;
and if I do not make as great a figure
in the world, I make as great a shadow
the pavement; I am as great a man
as you. Besides, my word for it, I have
fewer enemies, meet with fewer losses;
carry as light a heart, and sing as
ry a song as the best of you.”
“But then,” said the Banker, who had
all along been trying to get in a word,
‘ "s the contempt ot the world nothing?”
“ The envy of the world is as bad as
its contempt; you have, perhap.?, the
one, and I a share of the other. We are
matched there too. And beside, the
world deals in this matter equally
justly with us both. You and I live by
our wits, instead of living by our indus
try; and the only>difference between
us in this particular, worth naming, is,
that it costs society more to maintain
you than it does me. I am content
with a little, 3'ou waut a great deal.—
Neither of us raiseg grain or potatoes,
weave cloth, or manufacture
anything useful; we therfeiUs odd
tc'Jjing to 4he Common j we are
inly consumers; and il the world judg
ed with strict impartiality, therefore, it
seems to me I should be pronounced the
cleverest fellow.”
about “to find a place and a wife.'
is easier for him to get possession of
wife than of a place; 3 - ethe might hunt
and smell about for more than seven
years and catch a Tartaress after all.—
A good wife is a great comfort—a heav
enly blessing—a first rate affair; but a
poor one is a source of greater uneasi
ness than were a shirt made of hemp
and briar bushes. Then, my friends,
there are “ seven years to pleasure's foi lies
given”—-from twenty-eight to thirty-five;
that is just about enough of time’s small
change to spend for fun, frolic, and
careless enjoyment. Then or never
man makes up his mind to drive bis bu
siness, or let his business drive him.—
If he is not in a fair way at forty-)
gel his share of the world’s spoils, he
might as well hang up his fiddle, and
be content to dig his way through life
as best he may. The “seven years fo
fame" are encouraging, discouraging
perplexing, pleasing, tormenting, teas
ing and disappointing—a regular wild-
goose chase. The pursuer thinks eve
ry moment he is about to catch the bird,
and so keeps on thinking till he tires
himself out, and lies down lo rest be
neath the blanket of obscurity. My
readers—after the following seven
years for increasing whatever wealth
may be yours—after the next seven for
hoarding it carefully up for the encour
agement of vice and laziness in your pro
geny—alter the next seven years spent
in weakness, whimsicalness, childish
ness and care, you toddle out of this
world, and go—nobody knows where,
only those who have gone before you.
Mercury.
Tlic Thirty Pieces of Silver.
Among the Legends of the early his
tory of Christianity, is one respecting
the Thirty Pieces of Silver, which Ju
das received for betraying his master,
and which he brought back to the
priests when he saw Jesus was con
demned ; those pieces which the priests
would not receive because they said “ it
is the price of blood,” and which they
could not restore lo the public treasury
because it would be defiled by them :—
those thirty pieces of silver employed
to buy a field to bury strangers in,
which was afterwards called—The
Field of Blood. This fatal and cursed
silver is not, according to ».he Legend, a
common and ordinary coin. It had its
origin and its fatality. When Cain fled
after the murder of Abel, his sons in
vented the Arts, those instruments and
punishments of the passions of man and
Tubal Cain, the eldest son of Cain, dis
covered the art of casting metals. It
was he who struck those thirty cursed
pieces which at first paid the brothers
of Joseph when they sold him to the
Egyptian merchants, and which down
through the ages serving for I know not
how many treasons and crimes, have
touched at last,—becoming each day
more cursed and fatal. The hands of
Judas, for whose execrable perfidy they
were the reward. The mysterious pre
destination attributed to these pieces of
siiver, which passed thus from Cain to
Judas,—this price of the blood of all
the just—forged by the son of the first
murderer upon eanti—-aTl this is great
and beautiful; but this contains also a
great moral idea—for there are few
great political inventions which do not
contain some great moral lesson.—
These thirty pieces of silver of Judas
—this fatal money, has had its use in
the history of all mankind ; these pieces
do not belong merely to the history of
Joseph or Jesus Christ; they are so to
speak, Satan’s treasury upon earth.—
When the maid of Orleans was sold to
the English by the Burgundians, it
with these thirty pieces of Judas’s sil-
that England paid for her blood.—
Revue de deux Mondtfs.
If this idea is correct, the world may
be thankful that the bank above named
has not had a larger quantity of coin in
circulation.
A Large Meteor.—An explosion of
meteor was heard in North Carolina a
few^days ago, and several pieces of iron
were picked up the next day, supposed
to be portions of iu The largest piece
was found in Cabarrus county, weigh
ing nineteen pounds. It bad struck a
large pine tree lying on the ground,
went through it, breaking it in two, and
re-! then into the earth to the depth of three
"•feet.
“ Seven years at trade
This epoch takes the boy to twenty-
one—the empire of manhood. He has
whittled his bench to a skeleton in the
school-house, served his apprenticeship,
and is now his own lord and master—he
is to begin the world for himself. He
disdains to be called a boy, and lacks
the boldness to look upon himself as a
man. He is in a “transition state,”
like the pin-feathered gosling just step
ping upon the' threshold of gooseliood.
Heexerts every effort to persuade a little
hair to garnish his cheek and chin—ap
plies oil, raw egg, potato poultices, and
good Peter only knows wbat else, for
the promotion of a respectable growth.
When he gets it, then he is a man to a
live certainty, and must begin to^look
Exercise Early Life.—To fetter
the active movements ofefiildFett, as soon
as they have acquired the use of their
limbs, is barbarous opposition to na
ture ; and to do so under the pretence
of improving their minds and manners,
1 insult to common sense. It may,
indeed, be the way to train up elevated
puppets for short-lived prodigies of
learning; but never to form healthy,
well-informed, and accomplished men
and women. Every feeling individual
must behold with much heartfelt con
cern, poor, little, puny creatures of eight,
ten, or twelve years of age, exhibited
by the silly parents as proficients in
learning, or as distinguished for their
early mastery of the languages, elocu
tion, music, or even some frivolous ac
quirement. The strength of the mind,
as well as of the body, is exhausted, nnd
the natural growth of both is checked by
such untimely exertions.
A Western Yarn.
A Hoosier, an awful ugly man, relat-
g his travels in Missouri, said that be
arrived in Chickenville in the afternoon,
and just a few days afore, thar had
been a boat busied, and a heap of peo
ple scalded and killed oneway and an
other. So at last as I went into a gro
cery, a squad of people follered me in,
one ’lowed, ses be, “ its one of the un
fortunate sufferers by the bustin of the
Franklin,” and upon that he axed me to
drink with him, and as 1 had my tum
bler half way lo my mouth, he stopped
of a sudden—
I beg your pardon, stranger—but”
; he.
* But—wbat ?’’ scs I.
* Jist fix your mouth that way agin ?”
I done it. jist like 1 wascwine to
drink, and 1*116e hanged if I didn’t thitHS
the whole on’em would go into fits!—
they yelled and whooped like a gang of
wolves. Finally one of them says,
don’t make fun of the unfortunate;—
he’s hardly got over bein’ bio wed up yet.
Less make up a puss for him.” Then
they all throwed in, and made up five
dollars; as the spokesman handed me
the change, he axed me, “ whar did you
find yourself after the ’splosion?”
In a flat-boat,” ses I.
How far from the Franklin?” ses
he.
Why,” ses I, •* I never seen her, but
as nigh as I can guess, it must have
been, from what they tell me, nigh on to
three hundred and seventy-five milts!”—
You oughter *a seen that gang scatter.
Belf-Reliancb.—The success of in
dividuals in life is greatly owing
their early learning to depend up^.i
their own resources. Money, or the
expectation of it, has ruined more
men than the world ever did.-—
Teach young men to rely upon their
own efforts, to be frugal and indus
trious, and you have furnished them
with a productive capital which no man
can ever wrest from them.
Flowers.—Flowers are indeed but
emblems of His countless blessings——
“,' vh ° °P e aeth His hand and filffeth
at. things living with plenteousness.”
Flowers are, in the langauagc of the
poets, “ Nature’s jewels ;” incitements
to poetry and refined sentiment. They
are emblems oft he lovely, the innocent,
and the most dear; gentle aud deli
cious memories do they breathe of the
absent and the dead, whilst they en
hance the beauty, gayety, and rapture
of the living. Oh, man, cultivate a
taste and love for flowers—those over
flowings of his bounty who created the
first Eden, and from whom we hope
to receive the second ! ‘
It is in the varieties of creation aad.
the constant changes of the world’s life,
that the grand harmony of the whole*
consists. Let the tone of an instru
ment be ever so sweet, what effec*
would it produce upon the ear, if it had
but one note! How poor is a concert
with but two or three instruments?
But in the succession and combination
of many notes and many tones, how
grand, how beautiful, is the melodious
harmony! Skies ever blue, and pas
tures ever green, would become very
duff and wearisome, notwithstanding
all the verses of pastoral poets.
. wish to be happ3", keep busy.
Idleness is harder work than ploughing.
a good deal. There is more fun
sweating an hour than in yawning a
century.
Afflictions are the same to the soul
as the plough to the fallow groufid, the
pruming-knife to the vine, and the fur
nace to the gold.
J
A man whom no person pleases is
more unhappy than one who pleases no»
body. : — —^
No duly requires thee to shuT\pui
beauty, or lo neglect the influences tva^, sL
may unite thee with heaven.
Don’t.touch the iute when drums are
sesound.ing. A wise man remains si
lent while fools are speaking.
Bad Books.-—Books are company ; ‘
and the company of bad books is as dan
gerous as the company of bad boys and /
? Gentlemen, there is something on)
earth greater than arbitrary power.~% f
The thunder, the. lighilifljy^nt
earthquake are terrific, but the ^
menl of tbe people are more so.—-JVcb
ster. '
A year of pleasure passes like a
floating breeze; but a moment of
misfortune seems an age of pain.
What is tbe universe but a hand flung
in space pointing always with extended
finger unto God.
Pride is the dainty occupant of our
bosoms, and yet ever feeds on the
meanest infirmity of our kind.
Beauty eventually deserts its posses
sor, but virtue and talents accompany
him lo the grave.
Cato says, “the best way to keep > - -
good acts in memory is lo refresh them
with new.”
He who hates his neighbor is misera
ble himself and makes ail around him
feel miserable
Those who can most easily dispense
with society are tbe most calculated to
adorn il; they only are dependent orsjjfi^'*
who possess no menial resources ; for -
though they bring nothing-tqjhe^g^iBSr
ral mart, like beggars, they are ton poor , „
to stay at home.
__ . • ; -*i
Be Firm.—The wind and the waves
may beat against a rock, planted in a '
troubled sea, but it remaius unmoved, -j-'
Be you like, that rock, young man.—
Vice may entice, and the song and th6'|f^
cup may invite. Beware-—stand firm-r X
ly at your post. There is glory in fb 6
thought that you have resisted tei*pta-
tion and conquered. Your bright ex-,
h-rto uoj -worid;
light house is to the mariner upon loo
sea shore. It will guide hundreds to
the port of virtue and safely. .
Woman’s Love.—“ Oh, how cruel to
value love as a piece of common mer
chandise. It is the only thing upon ibis
round globe that suffers noTOfchaser ■*,
but itself. Love ia the equirafeob^of.' ^
love; the invaluable jewel tHoi must
either be freely given, or, forever unen-
jnyed, be buried.”—Schuler.
Nothing sets so wide a mark between
a vulgar and a noble soul, as the re
spect and reverential love of woman
kind. . A man'wboj* always sneering
at woman, is generally either.coarse
profligate or a coarser bight.
Leisure Hours.-—It was a beautiful
observation of tbe late William ’ Hazlit,
that “ there is room enough in human
life to crowd almost every art and
ence in jt.. If we pass • no day without
a line*—visit no place without u.e com
pany of a book—we may with care fill
libraries or empty them of their con
tents. The more we do, the more <wc- '
can do;. the more busy we are, the more
leisure we have.”