Newspaper Page Text
t it t x a l
c o r a u\ n.
VOLUME XV.
SANDERSVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, JULY 24, 1861.
NUMBER 30.
j. m G. MEDLOCK,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
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From Sharpe’s Magazine.
A LEAF FOR LITTLE LA.DE1S.
THE RUBY AND THE CORN-SEED.
‘I was founil in the bed of a river
at the island of Ceylon,’ said the lluhv
to the little grain of Corn. ‘Gnnein the
slave found me, ami his eyes sparkled
with joy when he beheld me ; tor I
was to all the o her rnbiies in^ the bed
as die morn is to the stars. 1 lie slave
owner gave each vear a large reward
t„ him Who found the finest ruby, and
I was the largest and reddest ever
known. It took me three hundred
years to grow! Ganem took me up
carefully and held n>c to the sun—
which is brighter in winter than m
lids cold country at the height of sum
mer. I glistened like a red star, lie
carried me off in triumph to h s mas
tey who shouted for jov when he be
held me; then he gave Ganem a large
rewaid, set a great price upon me, and
packed me up in an ivory casket, with
soft feathers and down for me to rest
on, and all alone—not like the common
rubies, that were piled upon top of
one another, lie took me to the cap
tain of a large ship, and said : ‘I ins is
a fine rubv, fit for a princess !
lie thought I did not hear him, b‘t
fdid, and spudded all the while; and
as soon as the captain was insituc td
what to do with me, we sailed away.
Wiien we wee lia'f over the sehe
took me from the^case and showed me
to sofrie beautiful ladies, who immedi
ate',y fell longing to posse.-s me: but I
was too costly for them : and great
honors awaited mein this country y°u
call England. So I came over the
broad soa, and on the first day are?
our arrival the captai > took me to the
lapidary’s, that I might be put. in gold
and otherwise fitted for the service of
n princess.
‘Every body who saw me wondered
at mv size and brilliancy, and I was
given to the most skillful workman
to be carved and polished.’
‘They must have hurt you very
much,’‘said the Corn seed modestly,
‘to be carved and polished into all those
squares!’ , ,
‘Not at all,’ said the Rubv : ‘it only
shows us off ihe better. It took the
man three weeks to carve me; and
the merchant to whom I was sold
Came every day to see hmv I was go
jng on. When every thong was fin
ished, he took mo to a place lull of
gold and silver and bright stones ut
I was the brightest of all; and all the
people in the street stopped to look at
me, exclaiming : ‘\\ hat a beautiful
rubv!’ ,
‘One day there came a young lady
the fairest I had ever seen—perhaps
you never saw a lady ? said the Ruby,
interrogatively, to the C rn-seed.
‘No,’ replied the C -m-seed ; ‘only
the village girls that came gleaning.’
‘Well,’ said the Rubv, in a tone of one
who prides himself on Knowing a thing
■or two; ‘well, a young lady is the
tnost beautiful thing in the wond ex
ceptaruby; and this was the rn..si
beautiful of all the ladies, and a real
princess. There was a tall gentleman
with her, and,I saw at a glance that
lie was m love with this princess.
They bought diamonds and emeralds,
■the best ot all there were, and then ‘mv
lord’—they all called him lord—took
the princess back toiler carriage; but
as lie went out I caught his eye, and
he came back and looked at me, t king
a little gold band out of a case he had
to measure me by, then he purchased
• ,me for a large sunt of gold, and put
me in the case with the plain gold
band—this was called tiie wedding-
ring—and we soon beeame friends.
‘I was taken home to a grand palace,
&nd my lord put a little scrap ©i paper
by my side, and told another lady to
lay me on her pillow’ so at night when
they were all asleep, I was taken into
her room and laid down beside her.
All this while she slept, and I could
feel her soft warm breath. Once she
laid her hand so that it touched me ;
and I blushed redder than ever! It
was summer, and thesun stole through
the curtains very early, and its beams
lighted me up like a red fire, when
she awoke and found me lying there.
‘I never can tell you,’continued the
pomp<>us Ruby, ‘the delight she
showed on beholding me ? S e kissed
me over and over again, holding me
now in the sun, now in the shade, and
trying me by turns on every finger.
She read the note that had lain bv my
side over and over again. Ladies came
to dress her, and I all the while lay on
her table. They robed her in silk, and
put orange-blossoms in her hair; and
when every thing was finished, she
put me on her dainty finger. There
was a long train of ladies, but none
were half s > beautiful as she. We all
went n carriages to a beautiful church,
where my lord was waiting for us, and
they began to be married. When she
took oft' her glove, I sparkled so that
nobody could help looking at me; and
when the lord saw n.e, lie blushed, and
raised his eyes to he:s, quite full of
joy: then he said some woids, and
put the gold baud on the next to me,_
and all the people looked at me the
while.’
‘Were 3 T ©u much grander,’ said the
Seed, ‘.ban all the b. aunful ladi-s?’
•On! yes,’ saul the Ruby : ‘I was
brighter and fairer than all. We
went over the sea to lands where eve
fy tiling is more beautiful than here ;
and wherever her grace went, I went
too. Wo never parted even while
she sh pt, till 1 was taken off her fimrer
to be set and polished again, when the
young loui siole me for a p ay thing
and iet me drop here. But I know
she cannot do without me, and to-mor-
iow they will letch me back again.’
The Ruby and the Seed were lying
close together, in one of those verdant
green lanes that make the country so
beautiful. All through spring and
summer 't was full < f sweet floweis.
The May was there, in ‘tufts of rosy-
timed snow.’ Primroses grew in clus
ters oil the banks among the moss;
and fox-gloves and blue-bells, and all
the sweet wild floweis were there.
How many of us, dear reader, remem
ber such a scene, associated with the
dearest recollections of our lives !
It was autumn: the little grain of
seed had fallen from the bundle of a
village-gleaner as she passed home,
laughing with her companion-, through
the lane, with the shocK upon her head.
The Ruby had been dropp d by the
ciuldren from the Abbey, while they
plated there in the morning.
S > they came to lie side by side in
the still green lane, when the Ruby
told its grand history to the Seed. But
with all its fine airs, that little Seed
didn't envy it—no; though it looked
at its bright color, cut in so many
squares, and the gold chased round
with fl 'Wers. It looked at its own
plain brown coat, and the white seam
running down it, and thought of its
quiet life and the mission it hud to fill
on earth.
‘Prav tell me,’ said the Rubv, ‘how
you live here: it must be wearisome to
drone away one’s life in these dull
fieul-. I never was in the country
here before.’
‘Oh ! I have not seen much ; and -it
will not interest you, who came from
so fine a country, said the S ed. My
parent was a s. ed just like myself, and
early last spring was put in the field
not‘far from here, witn hundreds of
other seeds, and me rain fell, and the
sun brought it into li'e: so its roots
spread out in the earth ; then it un
folded a tiny leaf, ihnt shot up toward
the sun, and one by one, another and
another leaf, as gree. as emeralds ; then
there came a stem from among the
blades, and folded in this was a tiny
ear, that held a hundred homes, and
the year grew till, one sunny day, it
hurst "ut of the leaves, and stood
straight on the stem, and each little
grain was folded in a leaf; so nothoig
could liui t it. The field looked b. auti-
fult All the long ears waved at once,
and rose again when the breeze had
passed away. There was a lark’s-nest-
on the ground where I grew, and they
used to fly up into heaven and fill all
he fields with mu-iC. . The little
grains grew larger every day, and sil-
ver bell-like flowers ciimc O'lt on eve
rv grain and trembled all day lon^f in
tiie~sun light. When they fell off, all
tne ears caught the coloi of the su".
and changed from green to gold, and
ripened: so the farmer came and cut
us all down, and frghioned away the
larks, setting us in large shocks atnM.
Me field. All but a few ears were
carried away in a large wagon tar out
of the field. I fell out of tne bundle,
and the gleaners picked me up ; but 1
was shauen from the rest as they car
lied mem home—so we oatne to lie to
gether.’ ,, .,
‘What were those birds like ? said
the Rubv, very patronizingly, for it
compared the Seed’s history with its
own experiences, and was disposed to
assert its superiority.
‘Covered all over with white spots,
replied the S ed; ‘brown and white
with black bars on their wmgs, and
loner- slender legs* that took them all
over the field to find food for their
the year, for we have no winter there.
The corn grows as high as your trees,
and every house is a palace.’
It was getting dark, anil the labor
ers were corning borne through this
lane, talking, and the Ruby said to it
self: ‘Tliev will see me, and I shall be
taken to the Abbey; but they must
m>t find me talking with this poor
Seed.’
So it stopped boasting about its own
country, and the Seed lav still, think
ing how grand it must be; for itdidn t
know the l.uhy was false and deceit
ful, depreciating all the things around,
that it might seem the grander itself.
One of the men set his heavy heel on
the Rubv, and bent the gold out of
form, crushing it into the earth al
most out ■ f sight; now his heel went
on the Seed too, an I piessed that into
the ground ; but it was elastic, and
gave way to the pressure; so when
The foot wasgone it resumed i's proper
form: but there lay the Ruby, dirty
and hidden ; so there was no chance
of its being found. The Seed was
quite lost, so it spent the night in dis
contented regrets at its hard fortune.
Winter came with snow and rain;
the fields were white with frost.
There were no leaves and no flowers
in the lane now, the Seed and Ruby
were still there. They never spoke
now : the Seed was getting reo Iv for
the spiing, and quite tired, of the
pompous histories about the Ruby
country.
Tiie snow melted, and the whitk
blossom curie out on the leafl :ss blace
thorn ; the violets cam , and the prim
roses peeped out of the moss on the
banks. A little green blade -am-
up by the side of the Ruby,
which lav there blacker than ever; for
the snow, which warmed the Seed, had
tarnished its golden coat.
The sun shone; the Birds sang; the
rain f-11, and ihe blade became astern,
and the stem grew into an ear, just as
the Seed described. It didu t heed
•the Ruby now: it was busy being use
ful. The silver-bells came, out, and
fell awnv; the ear grew gold and iipe,
and a little child plucked it. Now it
happened that she who plucked the
ear had a garden by her cottage, and
when spring came aga n, she scattered
the grains of corn from that ear upon
the ground, and they came up and
multTplied as the Seed from which
they had sprang had done in the lane;
and when tne autumn came iltey were
garnered, and there was enough to
plant a field ; so the laborer, whose
little daughter Alice had plucked the
ear, went to tiie fanner, who lent him
a field to grow his corn in. Half was
to be tiie farmer’s for the land, and
half 1 is who had the seed ; and when
the summer cam“, there was a beauti
ful field full of corn, waving in. the
sunlight; and tliev called it Alices
fi, Id, because she got the first seed, and
when the corn was tipe, they gathered
it, the farmer half and the laborer half;
and there was enough to feed them all
the winter and plant -again in spring.
This wa's all b ing peiformed by the
one liule Seed the Ruby had spoken
so slightingly to while it was lying
black and useless in the earth.
Let us be thankful to the corn-seed :
it is a jewel worth more than all the
rubies of Ceylon, richer than etneral I
or diamond. Lay these in the eaiih,
ihev are dull and fruitless; but t e
seed will grow and multiply to feed
the hungry 1
MORAL.
Though vain pretensions may win
credence for an hour, Truth will tri
umph in the end, and usefulness meet
with its reward.
The Ties of Love.
What is it to woman that the tem
pest is darkening in the path of him
she loves? Is it he alone who has
power to cr ush her spirit's strength.
It is the breath of unkindness only,
the unkindness of him to whom her
soul lias clunr in its deepest trust,
mat can wither, beyond the power of
earthly healing, the energies of her
nature. But a poition of him, and she
tiie gentle and the feeble, whom his
slightest neglect would crush as with a
heel of iron, goes smilingly and gladly
forth to be a sharer in the furv and
the desolation of the storm. All oth
er ties may be severed, penury, be
reavement, the woil-is scorn, alJ
other agonies mnv he melted out
t) her in°In r c ip « f b t eriu s , and yet
ner heart, however delicately tasliioned
hath not utterly lost its capability of
sweet harmonies. They will still
break forth at his touch his, whispered
words of soothing will pass over the
mangled and bleeding tendons of her
soul,“like the breath of spring healing
the wounded vine, and all sul-
ferings wil. be ac-minted as a price of
naugTu for that tendermsi which has
hound up its wounds. Mad aim weak
devotion! Vain, all vain ami unre
quited; There is not in man’s liea.t
*m tillswt*nii|j tone to u sentiment Oi
such terrible depth
young ones,
‘H°!’ said Ruby, 'you should see
the birds in my co mtry: they are al
pu pie and gold—some nearly as
bright as myself!’ , ,
‘And do they sing sweetly ? asked
the Seed. ,
‘All day and night-, and all through
Steele paid the finest compliment t«.
a woman that perhaps waspver of
fered. Of one woman whom Congreve
had also admired’ and celebrated, he
savs that to have loved ner was a li
beral education., llow often he says,
ded.eating a volume to his wife ‘has
vour tenderness removed pain from
mv sick head—how often anguish f.oin
my affl cted heart. If there are such
beings as guardian angels they are
thus employed. I cannot believe one
Of tnem to be of more good inclination
or more charming in form than my
wife.’
Short Sermon on Behavior at Church. .
BY THE PREACHER.
Keep thy foot when thou goest to thehon3e of
God, and be more ready to hear than to give
the sacrifice of fools.—Ecclesiastes v., 1.
It might be doing no violence to the
spirit 0? the text to suppose it is de
signed as a rule of behavior at public
worship ; and that, special injunction,
‘keep 'thy foot,’ n-.t only means ‘keep’
from leaving before service ends, but
also strictly within the bounds of pro
priety while there.
These useful hints b ing disregarded
by some in almost every congregation,
1 b.-g the liberty of kindly suggesting
their observance, hoping that if no
h'gher considerations will influence the
m glectful, an objection to being
ranked among those who offer the
‘sacrifice'ffools,' will have its effect in
working a cure. We observe,
1. EVERY rLAb'ti or portjc WORSHIP MAY BE
CONSIDERED THE HOUSE OF GOD.
The place itself is not material.
1. It may be a log cabin.—-It is not
architectural display, costly adorment,
or the pomp and circumstance of im
posing form, that invests the place of
wroship wiih"sanctity. The rude log
cabin on the distant frontier, when
used for that purpose becomes as sa
cred and as much the house of God as
the gorgeouscity temple, with its lofty
spire, and loud pealing bell.
2. It may be the silent grov*.—B “tliel
was cabed the ‘House of God,’ be
cause m its solitude the Almighty
there met and blessed the wandering
Jacob. Whenever Christians assem
ble for worship, the occasion is solemn,
and the place becomes the ‘house of
God.’
II. ALL wno ATTEND THE HOUSE OF GOD ARE
UNDER OBLIGATION TO RESPECT ITS SANCTITY.
1. I'olitenrss demands i f . —Well bred
people regulate their intercourse on
principles which regard the opinion
and feelin .s of their associates, md the
conventionalities of refine-1 society.
To violate this principle in the sanctu
ary is no less rude, than would be the
same conduct in the parlor or drawing-
room.
Justice demands it.—The peaceful
pursuit of business or pleasure when
not incompatible with the privileges
of others, is a right conceded to all.
He who would deny this right by any
interference with ihe devotion of a
religious assembly, might with tiie
same justice invade the privacy of the
family circle for the purpose ut annoy
ance. .
3. Reverence for God demands it.
R 'speei and veneration are at all times
due the Creator especially on occasions
of worship. There his presence anil
blessings are invoked, and he who. in
that solemn audience acts irreverently,
insults the majesty of Jeh tvali.
m. irreverent conduct at tiie house of
GOD, IS ril£ SACRIFICE OF FOOLS.
‘Sacrifice’ signifies worship, and a
‘fool’ is one destitute of reason. Hence,
while sensible, pious people pay de
vout homage to the Creator, the stupid
and irreverent or represented as in
sulting Ilim, and outraging IIis house,
bv sueli worship as only idiots offer.
"This large category among others
embraces: .
1. Ihe man who sleeps in Church.
Such a eh a acter can’t be very wise:
the sermon does not grei.tly benefit
him, and he could certainly enjoy a
much better nap at home in bed.
2. People who tu/cc their d‘>gi to church,
to attract the notice of the boys, ami
make them laugh at his capers. Why
don’t sensible folks, whose dogs have
church-going proclivities, chain them
upon Sunday morning?
3. Those who take crying babies and
rudely behaved children to church to an
noy me preacher, and greatly disturb
the congregation; very common in
the country on quarterly meeting oc
casions.
4. These juvenile'gentlemen who have
frequent occasion for going out during
service, either from being the victims
of mistimed vehemence or peristaltic
action, or gallantly intent on creating
a sensation among the females.
5. 7 hose nice /oiks of either sex, whose
excessive intelligence leaks forth in
giggling, and talking, while the minis
ter's vainly trying to instruct them.
6 Those members of the church who,
instead of preparing themselves for
serious meditation and prayer, for ac
ceptable worship, spend the time in
the house of God before service, in
discussing the news, crops, fashions.
application.
Be certain to go to church. That is
right. Ami while carrying your po
liteness and reverence with you, be
sure to leave the clogs and ut truly chit
dren at home. Th ire is no record of
V do<r being henefnted bv going to
urcli ; and as for the children though
iheir a- seuce m iy s >metim s involve
tl.at of iheir maternal parent, this is
a much less hardship than the discom
fiture of an entire congregation, inflict
ed by their attendance.
Teach them, first to behave at home s
and then when they go to church the}’
will not annoy others, nor offer for
themselves, the ‘sacrifice of fools. 1
speak as unto wise men, judge ye
what I sav.’
What are Trees made of. I The Smiles of Providence.
If we were to take up a handful of He must be skeptical itWeod. who
soil and examine it under the micro- can look upon the unmistakable finder
scope, we should probably find it to marks of an overruling Pr « v ' llenc ^
contain a number of fragments of wood, and not witness at this important^per -
small broken pieces of branches or od of our history, as a people, the evi-
1 eaves or other parts of the tree. If dences of heaven s approving smiles,
we could examine it chemically, we The golden harvest that has already
should find more strikingly that it was been reaped, will be found amply sub
nearly the same as wood in its compo- fieient for the subsistence of our po
sition. Perhaps, then, it may be said, pie. And now, one of the mo,t beau
the voumF plant obtains its woo l from tiful ami heart cheering exhibitions of
Ihe earth 0 .u which it grows. The fol nature, may be witnessed at any tune
lowing experiment will show whether by a brief country expediMon in any
this conjecture is correct or not. Two direction from our city- The *hole
handled pounds of earth were dried i face of nature.is verdant■ w th "jj
in an over , and afterwards put into a productions of earth. Cluster ng fruits
large earthen vessel; the earth was hang-in rich profusion upon the bend-
then moistened with rain water, and a mg boughs of the trees The br. ht
willow tree weighing five pounds, was green corn seems to be burthened
olantedtherein. 0 D°ring the space of with the weight o if own vegetatioiL
five years, the earth was carefully wa- The cotton stalks labor under the
tereJ with rainwater. Tup. willow "eight of u profusion of bolD am!- theur
crew and flourished, and to prevent conic tops are yet adorned with my-
tne earth from being mixed with fresh riads of bnght Woommg ^ er3 * J be
earth bein® blown upon it by winds, rippling streams, the bubbling brooks,
it Vis covered with a metal plate full the flowing rivers the guslmigfount-
oVverVmhiute holes, which would ex- ains, the verdant forest, ihe chirping
elude everv thin°- but air from getting birds, the playful squirrel, and all na-
access to the earth below it. After tore, animate and inanimate, seem to
growing in the earth for five years, \ rea\vze the appmvmgsnm
Uie tree was removed, and on being cent Providence. A blighter land
weighed was found to have gained one scape has never been spread out for
hundred and sixty-four pounds. And the contemplation of mortal eye, and
SlTZiimir did no? include .he a sorenor *, h« never .
weight of the leaves or de#branches any people. We only tear that as a
which in five years fell from the people we w-H not apprtiG'ate ihese
j as vve should. And in addition to this,
'"Now came the application of the notwithstanding the civil commotion
test -Was all this obtained from the that now agitates the country—not
earth ? It had not sensibly diinin- withstanding the c.aron o wa >
ished • but in order to make die ex- been sounded and the din ot battle
,‘eriment com 1 isive it was then dried in and the clash of arms is borne on the
In oven and put in the balance. As- wings of almost every passing breez •
tonidiimr was the result—the earth still it would seem that thedives and
weml.ecf only two ounces less than it health of our brave soldiers have been
did°when the willow was first planted miraeulo .sly p eserved and m ever}
in ill vet the tree had gained one hun- conflict victory has perched upon their
2^ and siSuTur pounds. Manifest- banner,. We have evtr/ assurance
lv then the wood thus gained in the that our cause is just and that our
space of time was not obtained from people are brave, but there » some-
t e earth ; we are therefore obliged to thing more than human agency n all
repeutour question. ‘Where do°es the this, there is a power behind the
wood come^ from?’ We are left with throne, at whose mandate haughty
the water will. Urants shaH bead and ■» ^
which it w.s refreshed, or the air in he prostrate in the dust \Ve cr,ilor e
which it lived. It can be clearly tne sem.ime..t of the gallant Capta.no
Iowa that it was mot .Lie to the wv Bethel notoriety and re^lo ta>l
ter: we are consequently unable to | be all the prai».. . J y
resist the perplexing and wonderful
conclusion—it was derived from the
air.
Can it be ? Were those great ocean
spaces of wood, which are as old as
man’s introduction into Eden, and
wave in their vast and solitary luxu
riance over the fertile hills and plains
of South America, were all these ob
tained from the thin air? Were the
particles which unite to form our bat
tleships, Old England’s wails of wood,
ever borne the world about, not only
on wings of air themselves? Was the
fi in table on which I writ- , the chair
on which I rest, the soliu floor on
which I dwell, oi.ee in a toimm which
I could not as much as lay my fin
ger on and grasp in my hand'?
Wonderful truth 1 all this is air.—
English Paper.
Profession vs. Practice. Everv I p ear ^(j* to i )e busily employed ai
one knows with what horror the people slul : on nea r the table. I could
of the Nortli have professed to *° ’M cun ceive what its object was in passin_
upon the institution of slavery, a ^' n I a b uu t so very actively; but imagine
exists in the S .utliern btaies. ihe ) slK p r j ae when in a short time, I
right of property in slaves was strenu- g ^ ^ fl , eave ^ fl ol)r , n d begin
ouslv denied, and the Southern peop'e I a3 , en ,{ towa rds the table; This
were denounced as barbarians ami rob I ag go n explained. The spider had
bers, because they did not at once ruin atlsl(jllt . ( j a n ‘ um ber of cords to the fly*
themselves, the country, and the slaves, I ieti d m g f roin the table, and by
oy passing a general act of einancipa- slielc |„ n 2 eat -i, t o its greatest tension
tion. W'e never believed they them L n( j co „fbiing the upper end, the elas
selves would have been guilty such ijcily ot a jj lhe cor a"s—some fifty or
an act of lolly if the slaves could have | — wag com biued in raising the
been placed in their hands, auu the . „ continuing the process of
conduct of the Lincoln troops U om I t fir*hteiiing one cord at a time, in some
The Wonderful Works of 'lop.
—Some days since, while writing in
my office, my attention was directed
to a small spider descending from the
under side ot a table in the corner of
the room, where it had stationed its ll
unmolested. A large horse-fly, many
times too large for the spider'-which
was very small to manage, had by
some means become d.sabled and lay
on the floor. The spider descended to
the fly, and, with some caution, began
to entangle it in its web, and soon had
it completely bound. The spider then
ascended to the table, aud soon de-
.-eended again, and thus continued to
ascend and descend for some time;
fastening the fly more completely each
time it returned; 1 was at a loss to
know its object in binding the fly so
completely on the floor. Soon, how
ever, it c ased descending} and ap-
” ' 1 at its
not
A Parodjr.
Very amusing is the following paro
dy on Byron’s celebrated ‘Destruction,
of Senacherib fi
‘Toe sheriff came down like a eat on
strangi kits; his pockets were full of
attachments and writs ; and the sound
of hia Voice was as drear as the dun
that makes a uoor debtor in haste cut
and run ; and‘there stood the printing
press, still as a dream, propelled by
no muscle, un waked by steam; the
furnace unlighted, the engine unheard,
the cylinder empty, the piston un
stirred, and there lay the foolscap. Un
written and pale ; upon it no item, no
leader, no tale; the lamps were un-
Mghted, the sanctum was still, with
rust on the scissors and dust in the
quill: and there lay the horse with no
paper upon’t, no rule in tbe stick, no
ink in the fount; the cases were emp
ty of letter and space, no sheets on the
bank no form in the chase; the platen
was still and the carriage moved not;
no form in the lye-trough, no lye in
the pot; the proof uncarrected, the
leader unwrit; the mallet unlifted, the
planer unliit. For the Angel of Death
the EvaugM of Law—had found in
the ‘True Californian’ a flaw ; and the
journal, alas! like the swordfish that
flew, felt dea li in the touch, and turned,
corpse-like and blue. And there lay
the mighty Colossus of Rhodes, with
brass quite sufficient for nine hundred
loads; and the gloly of Caxton, in
spite of rhymes, hath perished like
frostwork, for want of the dimes.’
S ich will be the fate of many a jour
nal In fore the red Mars succumbs to
the white angel of peace.
A Mother's Love.—Children, look
in those eyes, listen to that dear voice,
notice the feeling of even a single
touch that is bestowed upon you by
that gentle hand! Make much of it
while yet vou have that most precious
of all good gifts-a loving mother.
Read the unfathomable love ot those
eyes; the kind anxiety of that tone and
look, however slight your pain. In
after life, you may have found dear,
kind friends; but never will you have
again the inexpressible love and gen
tleness lavished upon you which none
but a mother bestows. Often do I sigh,
in mv struggles with the hard, uucaring
worfd, for the sweet, deep security I
felt, when of an evening, nestling to
her bosom, I listened to some quiet
tale suitable to my age, rt ad in her
tender and untiring voice. Never can
I forget her sweet glance cast upon me
when I appeared to sleep; never her
kiss of peace at night! Years have
pa Scd awav since we laid her beside
my -father in the old church yard ; yet
stiil her voice whispers from the grave,
and her eye watches over me as I visit
spots long since hallowed to the memo 1
fy of my mother.—Macaulay.
New England, who are now in Virginia,
shows that, they have no objection to
the institution when there is a chance
for them to make money by it. They
are seizing all the slav- s they can get
their hands o’., for the purpose of sell
ing them and pocketing the proceeds
One of the Massachusetts soldiers who
was killed nt Gieat Bethel had in his
pocket a letter whch he had written to
Ids mother, saying lie had already se
cured twenty five horses, and a num
ber of slaves, which he hoped to be
able idstl soon. The action of Gen.
Butler, as well as his men. exhibit- the
difference between Northern profes
sion aud practice. They profess to
abhor slavery, but have no obj -ction to
pocket the profits arising from it, no
.matter in what shape they may cine.
Such lias been the history of New
England men from earli. st times to the
present day. - Montgomery Advertiser.
‘Well, Pat, my good fellow,’ said a
victorious genet al, to a brave son ot
Erin, after a battle, ‘and what did you
do to help us gain the victory ?’
‘Do,’ replied Pat, ‘may it please your
honor, I walked up boldly t<i wuii of
the iiiunv; and cut oft his feet.’
‘Cutoff his feet! and why did you
not cut off his head ?’ said the general.
‘Ah, and faith that was off already,
says Pat.
God in Nature.—Every thing
around me breathes of divine benigni
ty. The sparrow has laid her young
in a rose-tree j ust beside my door-sill,
another has built in the vine by the
wood-house. The bluebirds seem to be
tenanting the house I prepared for
them over the arbour, and I am looking
lor the return ot my wrens to their
lodge above the sw'ing. The indigo
bird, and some unknown pied biro
appear 'among my young elins. I
h ive also seen a dark bird with a dash
of crimson on the back. Tne cat-bird
sings almost all day in the large clieiry
tree by our ice 1 house; and in the or
chard just beyond, bobo’linColn indul
ges in his caprices, morning, noon, ami
ni<dit; But no song so affeols me as
the plaintive note of the iobin, heard
at a distance in the evening. It tells of
solitude, and care. It is such a strain
as, were I a bird, I could not choose
but sing myself. Ail these praise
God,—Dr. ff. IF. Alexander.
tightening one cord at a time, in some
fifteen or twenty minutes the fly was
raised to the table, and there deposited
for future use.
Old Hickory on Sweet Tem
per.—“I cannot forbear pointing out
to you, mv dear child,” said Genera!
Jackson once to a young lady, in whose
welfare lie felt a deep interest, fihe
great advantages that will result from
a temperate conduct <yid sweetn ss of
manner to all people, on all occasions.
Never forget that you are a gentle
woman, and all your words and ac
tions shou id make you gentle. I ne'ver
heard your mother—your dear good
mother—say a harsh or hasty thing to
any person in my life. Endeavor to
imitate her. I am quick and hasty in
my temper, but it is a misfortune
which, not having been sufficiently
restrained in my youth, has caused me
inexpressible pain. It has given me
more trouble to subdue this impetuosi
ty than anything I ever undertook.”
Stability of Things in EnG 1
land.—In one of his lectures Mr. Em
erson tells a story to exemplify the
stability of things in England. He
says that William of Wykeham, about
the year 1050, endowed a house in the
neighborhood of Winchester, to
provide a measure of beer and a
sufficiency of bread to every one who
asked it for ever; an-1, when Mr. Em
erson was in England, lie was curious
to test that-good man’s Credit; and he
knocked at the door, preferred his re
quest, and received his measure of
beer and quantum of bread, though
its owner hud been dead 800 years.
Loafers.—Different nations have
different kinds of loafers. Ihe Italian
spends his time in sleeping, the Turk
ish loafer in dreaming the Spanish in
playing, the French in laughing, the
English in swearing, the Russian in
gambling, the Hungarian in smoking,
the German in drinking, and the
American in talking politics. Which
Of these different kinds of loafing is the
most destructive to morality?
Teaching Children.—Do ail in
your power to teach your children
self-government. If a cli Id is passion
ate, “teach him by gentle and patient
means to curb his temper. If he is
greedy, cultivate liberality in him. Il
he is sulky, charm him out of it by en
couraging frank good humor. It he is
indolent accustom him to exertion. It
pride makes his obedience r> luotant,
subdue him by counsel or discipline.
In short, give your children the habit
of overcoming their besetting sin.
Creatures are all reduced to their
proper level, when by faith we realise
tne presence and the eye of G >d.
We talk of the evils of ignorance;
but while some are destroyed for lack
A Heroine's Sacrifice.—A young
lady has been heard to declare that
shecould’nt go to fight for the country,
but she was willing to allow the young
men to go, and die ati old maid, which
she thought was as great a sacrifice as
anybody could be called upon to
make.
A Speculation.—A correspondent
of the Fredericksburg Herald suggests
that the i onfederate States sell their
interest in the late United States navy
to Great Britain, with the understand-
m <r that she demand the same in ships
of 3 war. John Bull can get a bargain
if he will trade on these terms.
It ha3 been recently decided in Scot-
lat d that a minister has the right to in
quire into the defam .tory reports res-
1 ectintr the character of a member of
his congregation, without making him
self liable therefor in damages, on the
ground that it is a duty to be performed,
and a privileged one.
The dangers of knowledge are not
to be compared to the dangers of igno-
raic*. Those contemners of studies
who say, with Mandeville, ‘If a horse
knew as much as a man, I should not
like to be his rider,’ ought to add, It
a man knew as little as a horse, I
should not like to trust him to ride.’
When a fellow speaks evil of you to
your back and distributes falsehoods
innumerable, remember, that often you
have recoiled from the bark of a cow-
of ^knowTedu’e,” others perish by thelardly cur through the cracks, of a
possession of it Tb him that knoweth fence. Your surprise over Y°“ ^
[o do croud and dueth it not, to him it passed on aud permiLed the cur t?
is sin.—e/ay. l barkon ’