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VOLUME XV.
SA.NDERSVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 3, 1861.
NUMBER 27.
J. M G. MEDLOCK,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
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Sales of L ind and Negroes, by Administrators.
Executors, or Guardians, aro required bylaw to be
held on the first Tuesday in the month, be
tween the hours often in the forenoon and three
in the afternoon, at the Court-house in the county
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published THIRTY DAYS—for Dismission from Ad-,,
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■where a bond has been given by the deceased, the
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Publication will alwavs he continued aocorhng
to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered
ISftisceirjnrons.
THE BRAVE BOY.
A CAPITAL STORY.
Distress of Nations.
The present condition of the world,
boy on horseback rode by on his way
to mill. The horse took flight and
threw the boy injuring him so sadly ~ qo --
that he was carried home and confined ■ realization of the predicted ‘distress t>f
some weeks to tns bed. Of the schol
ars who had unintentionally caused
the disaster, none followed to learn the
fate of the wounded boy. Th-re was
one scholar, however, who had wit
nessed the accident from a distance,
who not only went to make inquiries,
but stayed to render services.
‘This scholar soon learned that the
wounded boy was the grandson of a
poor widow, w hose sole supp -rt con
sist* d in selling the milk of a fine cow
of wh ch she was the owner. Alas!
what could she now do? She was
old and lame, and her grandson, on
whom she depended to drive her cow
to the- pasture W'as on his back help
less.
‘Never mind good woman,’ said the
scholar, ‘I - an drive your cow!’
‘Willi blessings and thanks the old
woman accepted his offer. But his
kindness di I not stop here. Money
was worn ted to fret articles from the
apothecai v. ‘I have money that my
mother suit me t*> buy a pair of bools
with but I cun do without them for a
while.’ ■
‘0 no,’ said the old woman, ‘I can’t
consent to that, but In re is a pair of
heavy boots that I bought for Henry,
who can't wear them. It you would
only buy these, giving us wliat tin y
cost, we should get along nicely.’
‘Trie scholar bought the boots,
clumsy as thev were, and has worn
them up to this time.’
•Well, when it was discovered by
other boys of the academy that our
scholar was in the habit of driving a
A lit- LM rat lit »*w*i*«j * •/ i. \ * y
it is suggested in some quarters, is the your sniokey chimneys, but they am t
r-. i . i- t j , . c tliau ain’t a circumstance.
I shall never forget a lesson which I
received when quite a young lad at
the Academy in B. Among mv
schoolfellows were Hartley and Jem-
g ( ,n^ They were somew hat older than
myself, and lo Jemsmi I looked up as
a sort of leader in matters of opinion
as well as of sport-, lie was not at
heart malicious, but he had a foolish
ambuion of being thought- vvit’ V, and
lie made himself feared by the bad
habit of turning things into ridicule
and being ever on the lookout for
matter of derision.
II a ill ev was a new scholar, and lit
tle was known of him among the boys.
Oue morning, as we were on t :e way
to school, he was seen driving a eow
along the road toward a neighboring
field. A group of boys among whom
was Jem-on, met him as he was pass
ing. The opportunity was not to be
lost by Jenson. Tlallool’ he e.x
claimed, hvliat’s the price of milk? I
say, Jonathan, whatuoyou fodder on ?
What will you take for nil the gold on
her horns? Bovs, if you want to see
latest Paris style, look at those
hunts?’
Hartley waving his hand to us with
a pleasant smile, and d iving the cow
to the field, took down the bars of a
rail fence, saw her safely in the enclo
sure, and then potting up the bars,
came and entered the school with the
Test of us. A her school, in the after
noon lie let out the cow and drove her
off none of us knew where. And ev
cry day for weeks he went through
the same task.
The buys ofB. Academy were near
ly all tue sous of wealthy parents, and
some of them among whom was Jem-
son, were dunces enough to look
down with a sorl of d sdam upon a
hoy who had to drive a cow. Tue
sneers and jeers of Jemson were accor-
dhglv often renewed, lie once, on a
plea that he did not like the oder of
hrau, refused to sit next to Hartley.
Occasionally he would inquire after
the cow’s health, pronouncing the
word ‘iv'enw,’ after the manner of some
Country people.
With admirable good nature did
Hat ley bear all tlie.-e silly attempts to
wound and annov bun. 1 do not re
member that he teas even once Xjth uijed
Vito a look or word of unary retauuhon.
i(Gond'.) ;
J suppose, Hartley, said Jemson
•one day , *your daddy means lo make a
.milkman out . f you ?’
‘Why not?’ a-ked Hartley.
‘0 nothing ; only don’t leave much
water in the cans after you rinse them
■—that’s all !’
The boys laughed, and Hartley 7 , not
an the least mortified replied, ‘never
■fear, if ever I should rise to be a rnilk-
’tnan, I’ll give good measure and giod
•milk too.’
The day after this conversation
there 'was ,a .public examination, at
which a number of ladies an I gentle
men from die m-igl&oring towns were
jpi e-ent. Pi izes were a warded by tne
principal of oui academy, and both
Hanley and Jemson got a creditable
number; lor, in respect to scholarship
•.these two were about equal. After
,the ceremony of distribution, the
(principal remarked that there was
-one prize consisting of a gold medal,
■which was rarely awarde i, iK-st so
■jnueu on the account of its great cost,
but because the instances were rare
which rendered this bestowal proper.
It was ihe prize of Heroism. The
last boy who received one, was you g
■ Hauliers, who, three years ago, res-
fi ued ; i bl i d girl fro
P'ineip.i
jliolar was in the habit of <lriviti w
cow, he was assailed every day with
laughter and ridicule. His cowhide
boots in particular were made in tter
of mirth. But he kept on cheerfully
and bravely, day after day never shun
ning observation, driving the widow’s
cow and w anug Ins thick bo ts, con
tented in the thought that he was do
ing right, caiing not for all the jeers
and sneeis that could be uttered. He
never undertook to explain why lie
drove a cow, for he was not inclined
to make a vaunt of his charitable mo
tives, and furthermore in his heart lie
had no sympathy with the false pride
that could look down wiili ridicule on
any useful employment. It was a mere
accident ihat bis course of kindness
and self denial was yesterday 7 discov
ered bv bis teacher.
‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, I
a peal to you, was there not true hero
ism in this boy’s comiue- ? Nay, Mas
■ er Hartley, do not hide out of siglvx-
bel'iind lbe black l oaid ? You
not afraid of ridicule, you must not but
cue forth, con
Nations’ mentioned in the Sacred Scrip
tures as follows the effusion of the Sev
enth apocalyptic vial of wrath. Wheth
er tiie inhabitants of the earth are ac
tually fulfilling prophecy at this time,
or not, certainly a more complete pic
ture of ‘perplexity and distres-,’ with
‘the sea and the waves roaring,’ could
not be imagined than the almost uni
versal restlessness to be observed at
this n orrent.
Throughout the world, there is ei
ther actual trouble or the feverish ap
prehension of impending evil. In our
own country, we see armed hosts of
men who, but a short time ago were
brothers, rising up in the delirium of
inexplicable rage and,rushing fiercely
to conflict.
Europe is trembling on the verge of
a combat, the horror of wh ch almost
fillnds her to our strife, as our distress
Minds us to the dangers that hang over
Eu rope.
Tuere is a grave rupture between
France a: d England on the Syrian
question, and England is threatening
-to send an arrnv to Syria as an offset
to Louis Napoleon’s occupation of that
co n’try.
An Austrian army, three hundred
iliou-aiid strong, is encamped on the
bank of the M.ticio, scarcely restrained
from crossing the s re-.rn ami pouring
over the plains uf Lombardy, while It-
ay niilv hesitates to throw down the
gage of bailie to Austria, bv seizing
limne and invading Venice because
she is not quite ready fur the deadly
encounter.
A fierce and alarming revolution i-
at this moment raging in Poland and
a hundred thousand Russian tr >ops
cannot repress it. There is a roaring
of the disturbed human sea to be heard
in Bohemia, Hungary, Bosnia, and
Bulgaria, and an actual civil war ra
ging in the Turkish province of Mont
enegro. v
India, scarcely recovered from the
exhaustion of a sanguinary rebellion,
is affla-cCd with a terrible famine, and
two millions of ils wiec'ied inhabit
ants aie said to be actually sta ving to
deal.. -
that fate bv devouring each other. n — ------ -- - , . , '
China is the theatre of a bloody and I know, but I did not know that she
destructive war and the Island of Ja- snored.’
va is the victim of inundations that
afraid of praise. . .
foriii Master Edward James llarih-i to
and let us see your honest face!’ £("1
As Hartley, with b ushing cheel-
made his app aiance, witn a round *9®
applause in which the whole compauitvs
joined, spoke the. general app'obaliof’ “ f
of his conduct! The ladies stoitas-
upon benches and waved their han<, lor
kerchiefs. The old men wiped tl
gathering 7 moisiure from the corners
their eyes, and clapped their hand
The clumsy boots on Hartley’s fe
seemed a prouder ornament than
crown would have been on bis hei
The medal was bestowed on him ami
general acclamation. ,
Let me tell you a good story of Jen
son before 1 conclude. He was bear °r-
il v ashamed of his ill natmed raillery '
and after we were dismissed, he weijt.
with tears of in nly self rebuke in hi,
eyes, and tendered his hand to liar
ley, making a handsome apology hi
his past-ill manners. ‘Think no inm*.*"
of it, old fellow’ said Hartley, ‘let i nec-
all go and have a ramble m the worn
h fore we break up for the vacuum
Tne boys one and all, followed Jen
son's example, ami then sent fmt
huzzas in liie woo ls. Wliat a happjirm>
d y it was? - _ fe®j
Boys and girls never despise anotlr th0
er who may be more plainly clad tna»y &
\ ourselves. There is many a noblj ei i;.
heart under a well patched ganm ntiie»,
w henever you are tempted to 1 ok| ic .,|
semnlully upon one in a poor or plainBis-
tbess, think of Edward Janies Hartley 0 f
the brave bov, and his gold medal.
nave swept thousands of human be
ings to their graves. Thus the trou
ble is almost universal, and the Civil
ized World is groaning in unaccus-
■'aC'FlEu”''and FlfeDEwill',hytlv enter
iiDim its 'liiiJ vo.nine, anil is now FIRMLY Es.
tIlLISEI). It is haimsomely printed, in loll
tiiriii, lor hiiniiinr, on fine pi,per, and "fi 1 ' ‘i 1 ®’ 1
type. Every exertion is mime to vindicate its fcGnn
he
A Snorios 'Vile.
Talk about your scolding wives and
nowhere—they ain’t a circumstance.
I would rather have a chimney that
emits smoke enough locate the whole
family, and be forced to live with a
dozen Xantippes together, than to
have to -put up’ with a snoring wife.
Oli! the very idea makes a nervous
man tremble from the top of his stove
pipe hat to about a foot below the
sole of his boots! A snoring wife!
Boo-o-o o!
But I started ont to tell a story, and
I am going to do it.
Well. ‘In life’s morning march,
when mv bosom was young,’ I wooed
and won the beau’iful and accomplish
ed Miss \mi M. Dish. The difficul
ties of tli& courtship T will not here
'enumerate, for they will not weave in
to the plan of this story which was in
tended to he short—very short.
Tne appointed time for the wedding
arrived, and hundreds of young peo
ple, front far and near, assembled at
the inanison of the oid man Dash, to
witness the ceremony and ‘trip the
light fantas’ic toe.’ It was a brilliant
wedding, and *Hnp| in ess, our being’s
end and aim,’ was ours. Wnen a
couple really love, their wedding dav
is the h .ppiest of their lives, and if
they should be unfortunate in after
if , they look back to that day as a
t right oasis in the deset t of their mem
ory. About two o’clock in the morn
ing the company broke up and went
to bed
Before I got to sleep my wife began
to snore.
I was dnunfounded. ‘Ye gods!’ I
mentally ejaculated, ‘is this a reality ?
Is it possible that I atn bound up for
life to a woman who snores?’ 1 was
miserable.
Here I had been just a moment be
Jbre in ecsateies over the possession of,
as I thought, a treasure. ‘Can I love
her?’ I asked of rny heart, and the
answer instant.lv came, ‘It is irnpa-si-
ble T I debated with myself whether
or not I should ‘secede,’ but snoring
was not a giouud of divorce. It ought
to be—‘you may bet’ I sat up in bed.
and from thinking I went to talking.
stand this; I’ll
;snu IO UC uuuii.ij =LI .. up .w I can’t and won t
or onlv temporarily escaping just get up and leave, Jet the conse-
■ quence be wliat it may. I love her,
About this time I noticed that she
had quit snoring, and was shaking the
bed with suppressed laughter, and I
began to see that I was sold. J here
never was a poor devil, before nor
-ince, that rejoiced more at discover
ing that he had been sold.
‘Why,’ said she, ‘I thought you
p oinised to take me for better or lor
worse ; but here you are raising a row,
threatening to 1 ave me at the
The First Weekly Paper in aa q
Sou,l *l „ limvF n first, little limit you find about me.’
JAMES t * AU i V 1 ™;, r . -Well.’ said I, ‘I will make the same
AngnstT, Ga., Muy l, list. id-zm* promise again, if you won’t, snore; but
I’ll be hanged if I would live with a
snuring wife ten minutes.’
DRY GOODS.
The Progress of Races,
r.-'ftE «nh c cribcT will-continue the bn incssat tl.cl That extensive communities of men
I old 'stand Of ll. Ziiwrt<fcOo.,HiidresjH-cttully) iave 5 ,t various periods, disappeared
w-n fi “ heretofore,"self*thlfin Good? o7 the'best from the regions which they previous-
quality nt ^ T, nr m'c l.voccupied, and given place to or be-
T-.T-IT/-0, (j.>ine merged in others of d ffi rent
characteristics, is a fact exhibited in
21 in learlv every qnar er of tlqe globe, and
cverv ate of history. We have al-
TQE VERY LOWEST PRICES.
riiVcus ii app
SaridersVille, May 22. 1861.
her
H.
r^HFhStIie?k!stTngbetweenmost seen witn our own eyes t >e v an-
r the undersigned under tin- mule and style otj„g ( ,f Jndlall Council fires, the eXtltlC-
St^hJion ofnt.ee powerlul aboriginal tribes,
finn wm please p.esent them Mr N^m , "V, n ,l the rise of the mightiest of C.V.-
torsettlement. VlN'CUS haT‘1*.’ !iz*'d nations, where, but as yesterday,
Ssndersviiie, May 22, 1861. ‘ 2t-Lv. . the red man reared his rude wigwam,
— 1 ... ,. 5TYT7.J tnd fashioned his simple armor. Our
Watch Lost-Five Do» ars Iltwai *j nces . ord ,,f t( ie imperial island had, tit
T °r" r ’ Rtiriustifnt^di>n'bla-Yase' lI GOLl[i'° very distant ag-‘, experienced cl.ait-
v'a-detached'lever. On the inside e.se njr es which, if kss Iilatked, Were On tile
tie A ,«ne “.«• ^ ^hole, scaredv less significant. The
,0 m'h'"f.L rattlesnake—and a seal with an ninbro- tt , ni inflexible Celt whom the genuis
wJi l p'X tl 7 V ,hnv K 1-nird rnr U.n dedvnr^ ;uid tU discipfitf d energy
of the watch tu 5 r. van., a ^ TUCKER. ,f g,, me fail, d at last to subdue’ yield-
june 26,18*1. 26 ~ 2t ^1, in time, to the enterprising, daunt-
—TTTT » 11 \ T }[ I Q ess, progressive Tcut* n ; and the more
U K, i\» i'l- A 1 R I d halt semibarbarous Britain Caracta-
H AYING located in Siuiders.ille. ten.lers hn ||s a||( j Goad cea, became theenligllt-
''i/'v'nL' speilt tiie^nc-tot his time during hH|nd England of Alfred, of Wtckhffe.
pup'ihise insonie of the h.r K est i.ndmost pnpulo.n ...j |jf Ba ,. 0|1>
, 1Ju ‘!.. fc
’The Beard —Americans are fits'
becoming a bearded nati n, euliiv.itiug
the mustache and beard generally all
over the face, it is a fashion that ha-
crept over the water to us, and not an
unbecoming one to many. Still it re
quires much tact and good taste to man
age the beard so that it shall be be
coming to the wearer. It will serve to
bide an ili-formed mouth, and of course
as well to hide a handsome one; the
teeth look clearer and whiter from be
hind a dark mustache. The beard
may be so trimmed and arrange d as to
do much in remedying any natural de
fect. A short lace may be made Ion
ger, and a narrow one broader, a lack
of development in the chin remedied,
and otlnr desirable objects attained.
Ladies generally like the beard, nut
ot.j cling to this distinction which na
ture has cr ated between the sexts.
We acknowledge s liking for * l h d a P'
pendageourself, considering itnot only
com for table, but manly and becoming-
prep -
toil i0_Uu*_.eiin?
ally Ul.-C.ire - ■ * “ -y J . .. . ----- q » - -
Office oa the North-site ot tu* >e u . m j, K j e j j |, as not alwavs been im
Predestination.—A Missouri pa- - • -
per contains the following, which w 11
pass without much urging: : D*> you
believe in pred.-st.nat.oii ? said the
c .plain «>f a Mississippi steamer to a
Caivinistic clergyman, who happened
to be traveling with him. ‘Of course
I du ’ ‘And you also believe that
what'is to be, will be?’ C rtainlyJ
‘Well, I’m glad to hear it.’ ‘Why?’
‘Because, I intend to pa<s that boat
ahead in fifteen consecutive minutes,
if there be any virtue in p’rne knots
and loaded safety valves. So don’t be
alarmed, for if the bilers aint to burst,
thev won't.’ Here'’ the divine com
menced putting on his hat, and began
to look very much like backing out,
which the captain seeing, he ir served.
•[ thought you said you believed in
predestination, and what is to be, will
l,e.’ ‘So I d<>, but I prefi r being a lit
tle nearer the stern when it t-kes
place.’
When Napoleon marched on Russia
he led a field army of nearly 300,000
men; bnt he learned a lesson winch
caused him to say that “no people who
are attached to their institution, and
their homes can ever be conquered.
provtanent. On the contrary, in in
static, s not a few lias civilization gone
backward. Revolution has resulted
in disaster; an l darkness has super
veiled where the culture of ages had
diffused no despicable light. Thus
was it when the iron empire of Romu
lus and ..ugustus, enfeebled by long
corrosions ol vice, crumbled beneath
the assaults of undisciplined barbari-
ians. And thus was it when suc
cessive convulsions overwhelmed Ba
bylon and Thebes, Jerusalem an 1 Ath
ens, Antiocn, Byzantium, and resigned
their ancient glories to be trampled in
the dust by the lawless Arab and the
sensual Turk.
To describe these great alternations
'in society, not only truthfully but
with vividness, to trace them satisfac
torily to their causes, and solo exhibit
the lessons they teach, as at once to
convince the judgment and move the
heart, is the appropriate office ot histo
ry. And it is as they thus exemplify
the influences which determine man s
weal or woe, that the records of the
past, beertne no less instructi.e than
they arc fascinating.
The beauty of behavior consists in
the manner, ‘not. the matter of your
conversation
A young lady out west says;
When I go to the theatre, I am very
can h ss ol rny dress,- as the aiV ten e
Downing. The at e too attentive to tlte play to 11 inei ve
, -..-n said that, with the per- my vvaidiobe ; but when 1 go to chute j
ssiou of the company he would re-■ I am very particular it) my icuiivusauu... . — - 4 —>
tea short story, j appearance, as most people go t c , j j^ ence a fair fortuner, and in- moment traitors iu arms agatust the
‘Not long since, some scholars were 1 to see how their neighbors dtesa a j nJtrv ° a cood estate. [republic.”
flDg til kitO 1 n ^ ^ ° n'MAAf i n'ni. «r. n VA/X..M i J ♦ Ia & CA I \T PR 1 ^ ** " ®
A Nortlieru exchange complains
that the text bonks on nnltlarv .-cience
now in vogue are the works of Hardee
Gilliam and Cooper, “ all three at this
How to Eat Wisely’
If practice m ik-s p irfect, mankind
should certainly know how to eat wise
ly ; yet the following excellent ad
vice, from Dr. Hill’s (ever suggestive)
Medical Journal, contains wisdom that
will be new to some people:
1. Never sit down to a table with an
anxious or disturbed mind; better a
hundred fold intermit that meal, for
there will then be that much more
food in the world for hungrier stom
ach? than yours, and besides, eating un
der s’tch circumstance can only, and
will alwavs, prolong and aggravate
the condition of things.
2. Never sit down to a m°al after
anv intense mental eff >rt, for physical
or mental injury is inevitable and no
man has a right deliberately to injure
bodv, mind, or estate.
Never go to a full table during bod
ily exhaustion designated by some
as being worn out, tired to death, used
up, dune over, and the like. The wi
sest thing you can do under such cir
uuinstances, is to take a cracker and a
cup of warm tea, either black or
green, and no more. In ten minutes
you feel a degree of refreshment and
liveliness, which will be pleasantly
surprising to yon ; not of the transient
kind which a glass of liquor affords,
but permanent; for the tea gives pres
ent stimulus and a little strength, an 1
bef re it subsides, nutriment begins to
be drawn from the sugar, and cream,
and bread, thus allowing the body,
gradually, and by safe d -grees, to re
tain i s usual vigor. Then, in a couple
ni hours, yuu may take a full meal pro
vided it does not bring it later than
two hours before sundown ; if later,
then take nothing for that day in addi
tion to thecneker and tea, and the
next day you will f el a freshness and
vigor not recently known.
No reader will require to be advised
a .-econd time who will make a trial as
above, while it is a lact of no unusual
tbservatiou among intelligent pli#si
cians that eating heartily, and under
bodily exhaustion, is not tin unfrequeiii
cause of alarming and painful illues- - ,
and sometimes of sudden death. These
things being so, let every family make
it a point to assemble around the
family board with kindly feeling-,
with a eheeiful humour, and courte
ous spirit; and let that member of it
be sent from life table in disgrace who
presumes lo mar the ought tu.be blest
reunion bv sullen silence, or impatient
look, or angry tone, or complaining
longu ■. E it in thankful gladness, or
away with you to the kitchen, you
graceless churl, you ungrateful, pesti
lent, out, that you are. There was
grand and good philosophy in the old
time custom of having a buffoon or
music at the dinner table.
A Biief Ceremony.
When old Squire Crane was first
elevated to the dignity of Justice of
the Peace, down in South-western Mis
souri, he knew less of law and legal
forms, than he did about killing ‘bars.
It was mv fortune to be a witness of
the first ’ marriage ceremony the old
fellow ever undertook. The young
couple stood up in the Squite’s office,
and the happy bridegroom desired the
functionary to ‘propel’—to which im
patient request lie acceded, by inqui
ring :
‘Miss Susan Roots, do you love that
’ar man ?’
‘.Nothing shorter,’ responded'the Miss
Hoots in a subdued laugh.
And you, John Kennon, do von
allow for to take Sue for better and
worse?’
‘Sartin as shootin, Squire,’ earnestly
responded iho enamored John, ‘chuck
ing’ Sue under the chin.
‘Tnen you both individually, col
lectively, now protni-e to love, honor
and obey each otheq without end ?’
A satisfac.ory reply was given.
‘If that ’ar be the case,’ continued
the magistrate, ‘know all men bv these
presents, that iltis ’ert tw>iu afor sd 1
is here! y made bone <>f one bone, and
flesh of one flesh; and furthermore
mav the Lord have mercy on your
souls l Amen!’
I left the office, with the conviction
strongly impressed upon tny minu that
the Squire, although not particularly
posted up in mar.iage ritual had a very
good general idea of legal forms and
ceremonies.
Evil I’assigns.—Evil passions ex
ert a powerful influence over the nn-
derstadn.g; they derange its action,
and having the art of self concealment,
are likely to operate with greatest
fatality when least exposed to the no
tiee of their victim. Of the drunkard,
it is often said that he is a poor judge
of himself, often imagining himself to
be sober when lie is not. It is very
much so with silt the evil passio; s that
prey upon fallen humanity, they be
guile and deceive, ruin and destroy
without advertisement of their pres
encep except in their results. They
shrink from the blaze of conscience,
and burrow in the heart.
A religion that never suffices to
govern a man will never suffice to save
linn ; that which does not sufficiently
disun. Utah one from a wicked, world,
wtil never distinguish him frotn a per
ishing world.
Open your heart to sympathy, close
it to despondency. The fl over wi tch
opens to receive the dew shuts against
the rain.
Every tnan likes to be taken for a
gentleman, vet io man likes to be
as one—in an hotel bilL
The Sun’s Heat Esseutinl for Cora.
Every farmer who lias studied
c’osely the growth of cereals, has not
failed to mark the wonderful influence
which sunsuine hasppoit their growth.
The following remarks upon the value
of warmth iu corn culture ate from au
essay by Mr. Randall:
As corn, more than any other of
our cereals, requires, during the whole
period of its growth, an unstinted sup
ply of sunshine, not only over the sur-
iaco of the field, but down, in, through,
and among it, the economy of planting
should always, as far as circumstances
will permit, be adapted to this require
ment; the row iu the field running as
nearly east and west as may be, that
the grown and lower portions of the
stalks may have the full benefit of the
morning and evening sun. During
the cron-growing season, the sun du
ring the middle of the day is at an alti
tude so nearly vertical, thaf its ravs
find their way down through the foli
age and between the rows very readi
iv. If, instead of planting their corn
in hills, lowed both ways, four feet
apart, two stalks in a hill, our farmers
would plant in drills six feet apart,
running always east and west, having
ihe stalks from ten to twelve inches
distant Ir >m each other, they would
soon find the beru fit of this mode of
culture, b ‘til in the excess of crops
and the early maturity of the grain.
A prodigious yield of pumpk.ns may
ne obtained from a field thu-‘ planted ;
and as the vine of the pumpkin draws
more than eighty p r cent, of its nour
ishment from the atmosphere, they re
turn a g >od -teal more than valm re-
c-ived u> tbi soil, in the grateful shade
of tneir broad leaves during the fierce
heat of a midsummer’s day.
An old farmer, of long practical (X
perienee, once argue I to us that actual
sun-hint was by no means a necessity
of the best development of Indian
corn, provided it was supplied with
plenty of common daylight. In order
to test our position fairly, vve planted
twenty hills of tne ordinary Kentucky
uourd seed corn, on the north side of a
close board fence ten feet, high, and
running due east and west. On the
south side of the fence, we planted i
like number of hills of the same corn.
As from April to September the sun
lose and set north of our parallel, *>t
cour.-e the corn on that side got a little
sunshine in spite of us. Nevertheless,
with exactly the same culture which
its neiglib >r over the fence received,
it only attained two thirds the height,
not half the size of stalk, and matured
ten ay? later, yielding one very mol
est ear per stalk, while the south side
stalks gave us, in almost every in
stance, tliree; one on each stalk being
invariably larger than any three we
could find over the f-nee.’
Benefits uf War.
It may appear strange to many of
our readers that ’.he present war will
be a neiiefit to the peopieof the South
ern Suites. But that it will be so we
believe, and state our reasons Lr that
belief.
In the first place, the imminence of
.war necessarily leads to a thorough
and beneficial distribution of arms,
keeping them in order, and above all,
to their manuficture at home.
It leads to the marshal ling, organiza
tion and equipment of armies, thus
providing us, upon the best basis, with
out the mat tenance of a regular stand
ing army, with a military strength and
efficiency that will be a strong pillar of
independence.
The blockade of our ports throws us
upon our own resources. We must
manufacture those things we need,
must have and which we cannot get
from any other source.
Filially, it teaches us, by experience,
the grand lesson of independence, and
at one bound, has placed us in the po
sition to decide whether we sliail be
freemen or slaves.
These are the advantage 7 , which at
present we merely touch upon. They
will strike the intelligent reader at the
first glance. We may elaborate more
tully°hercalter. War, such as this, at
least, has its advantages. — Columbia
Guardian.
Washington’s Prayer.—In the
summer of 1779, \Y ashingion explor
ing alone one day the position ot the
British, forces on the banks of the
Hudson, ventured io > far from his own
camp, and was compelled by a sudden
storm and the fatigue of his "horse, to
seek shelter for the night in the cottage
of a pious American farmer, who,
greailv struck with the language and
manner of his guest, and listening at
the door of his chamber, overheard the
following prayer from the father of
his country:
“And now, Almighty Father, if it i*
Thy holy will that we shall obtain a
name and place among the nations of
the « aril), grant that we may be ena
bled to snow our gratitude for Thy
goodness ; y our endeavors to fear and
oiiey Thee. Bless us with wisdom iu
our councils, success in battile, and let
all our victories be tempered with hu
manity. Endow, also, our enemies
with enlightened minds, that they be
come sensible ot their injustice, and
willing to restore our liberty and
peace. Grant the petition of thv ser
vant, for the sake of Him, whom Thou
hast ca! hd Thy beloved son; never
theless, not my will, but Thine be
done.”
TYhen a young man complains bit
terly that a young lady has no heart,
it is a pretty good-sign, that she at least
has his. . -
Take Care ot the “Gold -Dust.’’
Tom went to college, and every ac
count they heard of him, he was going
ahead, laying a solid foundation for
the future.
‘Certainly/ said his uncle, ‘certainly.
That boy, I tell you, knows how to
take eare of the gold dust.’
‘Gold dust!’ where did Tom get
gold dust? He was a poor boy. He
had not been to California. He never
was a miner. Where did he get gold
dust? Ah, he had the seconds and
minutes, and these are the ‘gold dust’
of lime—specks and particles of time,
which boys and girls and grown-up
people are apt to waste and throw
away. Tom knew' their value. His
deceased father, a poor minister, had
taught him that every speck and p ;r-
tiele of time was worth its weight in
gold, and his son took care of them as
if thev were. lie never spent them
foolishly, but only in good bargains ;
‘ or value received’ was stamped on all
he passed away.
It is a mistake to suppose the miners
and mints have ail the ‘gold dust.’
You, children, have some, some of in
finitely greater value than the ricoest
mines can yield. God does not give it
to you in gold bars, a day, a week, a
year long; nobody can be trusted with
so much time all at once; but God
wisely deals it out in seconds and min
utes, so that you can make the most of
it. If you are robbed of one, or lose
it, the loss is compariiively small. It
cannot, to be sure, ever be made up;
tne whole cannot ever make up for a
minute lost; but if it teach you to be
thoughtful and careful of the rest, you
will, by and by, be rich with the gol
den years of a useful and happy life.
Take eare of your ‘gold dust* chil-
d en.—Childs Paper.
Oaths. - Tne oath,‘So help me God,’
is probably the more ancient in origin
and n o e solemn in meaning than any
other of which we have cognizance.
The energy of the sentence resides in
ihe particle ‘so,’ implying -that, upon
condition of speaking the truth or per
forming the promise, may God ‘help
me,’ and otherwise. The formula orig
inated away back in the time of the
Pharaohs. A firm corresponding to
‘so help me God’ exists in Mediaeval
Litin, and a formula in some measure
s tni'ar occur in Classical Latin. Traces
of the same idiom are also found in
Greek. But looking back still further
ip»to antiquity, we often find the word
W employed similarly, and with great
solemnity,”in the Old Testament, (Ruth
i, 17, Sam. xxv, 22; 2Sarn. iii,9, etc.)
The Scriptural passage, however, which
most especially claims attention, LsEx.
x. 1C- Moses demands from Pharaoh
the right of free departure with young
and old, sons and daughters, flocks and
herds. Pharaoh angrily replies: ‘Let
the Lord be so with you, as I will let
vou go,’etc. Now these words are not
certainly an oath in the strict sense of
the term. They appear to have been
spok-n scornfully; sarcastically. Yet
they have in a measure the form of an
imprecation.—Petersburg Express.
Self Destruction.—Massa, you
know dem big glass shades what am
uribe last night ?
‘Well,’ said the master.
‘Well, dey was put in the store
room,’ continued the boy, a
‘Well,’continued the master inqui
ring! v.
‘Well, I was peelin’de apples, when
Mr. Johnson told me to bring one of
dein out, said—’
Well,’ said his master impatiently.
‘Well, just as I was gwine to do—
‘You let it fall and broke it, you
careless scoundrel,’ anticipated- the
master.
•No I didn’t nulder,’ said the negro
sulkilv.
‘Wef, what then,’ said the land
lord recovering.
‘Why, I struck him agin the corner
of the shelf and he brake himself all to
pieces.’
A<rREAT Camp.—The Richmond
“Examiner” descrides Virginia as a
grate camp. The valleys and the hills
of that land of peace swarm with
troops. The village echoes with the tap
of the drum and the trumpet’s blast.
The shop, the forge, the field, the
haunts of dissipation and the homes of
lurious idleness are alike deserted.
Tiie very genius x>f dattle has descend
ed cn the. State. The eomdative ele-
met in the nature of man was never
more thoroughly stirred. Heroism
lias become a living sentiment, patriot
ism ruling passion’ To die in tlm
countrv’sdefe. se is no longer rhetorical
platitude, for there is not a cornfield or
rustie cabin from the Ohio to the Atlan
tic that i.os not contain a simplemanly
heart, that is not really ready to da
that very diing.
Teaching Children.—Do all in
your power to teacli your children self-
government. If a child is passionate,
teach him by gentle and patient means
to curb his temper. If he is greedy,
cultivate liberality in him. If ho is
suikv, charm him out of it by encour
aging frank, good humor. If he is iu-
doleut, accustom hint to exurtioii.
If pride m dees his obedience reluctan.,
subdue him by counsel or discipline.
In short, give your children the habit
of overcoming their besetting sin.
A recruit, going through the • exer
cise of sword-cut. asked how he should
parry. “Never mind that,!’ said the o’d
hussar who was feucini-master to ho
regiment, you ‘only cut—let the eHtH^f
puny.” • - -jl
in the street just as a poor i deport themseives.