About The Waynesboro news. (Waynesboro, Ga.) 186?-18?? | View Entire Issue (Nov. 16, 1858)
11 0 WAYNESBORO, GEORGIA, TUESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 16, 1858 THE WAYNESBORO NEWS, PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MORNING, BY S. A. GRAY & H. J., BLOUNT, EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. TERMS, Two Dollars in advance, or Three Dollars if payment be delayed until the end of the year. ADVERTISEMENTS, will be inserted on tire following terms: One Dollar per square, of 12 lines or less, for the first insertion, and 75 cents for each subsequent insertion. To yearly advertisers a liberal discount will be made. All advertisements not marked with the number of insertions required, will be continued until for bid, and charged for. Three Dollars will be charged for all announce- ament of candidates for office; in advance. The Sunny South. ADDRESS TO MY SISTER. O come to the Sunny South, and leave your bills of snow; Come where the chilly winds from the mountains never blow—- Where the summer in its beauty is ever mild and pure. And where winter’s sway is feeble and cannot long endure. Advertisements from strangers and persons, payable in advance. One square, for six months. One square, for twelve months. Legal or business cards per annum. transient 12 00 10 00 0 come to the Sunny South—forsake your weary gloom; Come here, where round your footsteps, gay flow ers in gladness bloom; E'en in the midst of winter, they peep forth witli a smile, As fearless they of dangen, as true hearts free from guile. Contracts can be made on liberal terms. 2 [For the Waynesboro News.] The Young Bachelor’s Confession BY LOVIS, I’d rather be a Bachelor, Than be a married man, Because, I do just as I please. The married as they “can." For when a man doth marry, His freedom lie must loose, Give up his all and then submit To do as liis wife may chose. Now such a tiling I could not do, I know, 1 never would, Hear’d ho a fuss and 1 should try, 10 maul her if I could. Suppose I’d take a notion, To go upon a "spree?" The devil, then would be to pay. As you can plainly see. 0 leave the chilly regions, of grudging charity, And come where hearts are beating witli feelings kind and free; Forget your gloomy winters, your cliffs and hearts of ice, And ‘mongst summer liearts and flowers find here a Paradise, Mobile, 1858. II. J. [For the Waynesboro News.] Nancy Knowall’s Confession. BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR. There’s 4 Susan Prim’s" confession of an And if I NEW she was disposed. To raise witli me a " broil, 1 tell you what 1 think 1d do, ;: Her countenance I d spoil. First tiling you have got to court, And ride your horse to death, Stand a chance of being “ kicked," And jeopardize your health. If she says « yes," you need not say, That she belongs to you. For some have said that very thing, Which proved not " strictly true." Why on that very day. Some nice or gay young man. May’ve had the solemn promise, Of that young lady’s hand. But do not think that I intend, To say the ladies “lie” 1 knew before they w < uld do thus, They would far rather " dye. Then “mam and dad" are to be asked, if so, they will sure start out, Your downfall to project. Besides all this there is the " child," No sleep for its " pupa Or grumble, grumble all night long, The windows too far open. She’ll have you stumblii g in the dark. And your’e luckey if y ur neck’s not broken. The Bachelor hath no troubles, Ile hears no children cry, He has no wife to grumble. No"crenolives" to buy. Why it would break a millionaire. To marry now a days. We care for no "investments," Except the cue that pays. old maid, and “Jonathan Vinegar’s” confes sion of an old bachelor, and I’m sure I have a right to make a confession too; so I’ll just give you Miss Nancy Knowall’s confession. What a monstrous nice set of gals there was when I was young, and good sakes! how the young men use to go a courting them.— But times aint like they used to be. Only to think of it; Forty years ago I was count ed the prettiest girl in the neighborhood; and now to think I’m nobody but old Miss Nancy Knowall. I do wonder if folks think I’m to be called an old maid so soon. Why I’m only—good gracious! how that glass frightens one to look in it ;Why, I declare, I look almost as old and ugly as Miss " Su- saw Prim" over the way, and everybody knows she’s an old maid. Well, I suppose folks will get old some- times, and that’s no fault of hers. But its some consolation, as Susie says, to know one wasn’t always an old maid. Now I can remember when Susie was as young and nimble as any of us girls; 1. de- iclare it almost makts my heart break to think of them good old times, I mean young times, iwhen Susie and I used to be courting. We had lots of beaux then. 1 wonder if she re- |members them days, now that she has got to Ibe Miss « Susan Prim,” president of the “Doreas Society,” and all them sort of |things. For my part, I in puzzled out of my ■senses, to know why she never married.— poor dear mother say if I was to come to that after her spending all she had to raise| and educate her Nancy for a lady. That reminds.me of when I was young, and now I’ll tell you all about. When I was about sixteen years old I was one of the| brightest children you ever saw, I had been| to school three months and could spell baker and a number of other hard words; besides, I could write a little on the slate, and draw dogs and horses. One day I was writing off a copy the teacher had set for me, and all at once my thoughts began to wander, and it wasn't no time before I had four of the most beautiful lines written you over seed. How that tiling ever entered my head I can't tell for the life of me, but it was sublime; I wrote it off on paper, and preserved it, I remember now, how it went. When the thunder begins to roll, it fairly shakes my heart and soul; 'But when the lightning’s blazing in the skies,| Then’s the time poor Nancy almost dies. Now wasn’t that sublime! I don't know what made me think of the thunder and lightning, for it wasn't thundering a bit; but I always got scared when it did, and that's what made me write it. Well, presently the teacher says come here Nancy, let me see what you have been doing; so I walked up and handed him my slate. Why, what’s this? says lie. I began to cry, for I was afraid lie was going to whip me; but he tool; me by the hand and told me not to cry. I told him I didn’t mean to write it, but it came in my head so strong, that the first thing I knew I had it wrote down. He said it was poetry, and I was born to be a poet. I never shall forget that day; if Nancy Knowall was ever imposed on before, that | she never was afterwards; for they all knew I was superior to them. Every boy and gal in that school had a copy of that verse, and my name was carried far and nigh. The teacher said it was a great gift, but I. j was too young to have such grand ideas float-| ing through my brain, and begged me not to write any more; for lie said lie had known some people to go crazy when they got to be so wonderful smart. I was afraid it would■ injure my intellect forever, so I quit right j off. I think my brain has been a little ad- died ever since I wrote that piece, for 1 felt like my head was on fire all the time, and I was sick for two weeks afterwards, and came mighty nigh dying. The doctor said it was caused from being too smart, and told my mother not to send me to school any more, and to hide all the books in the house where Miss Susie shuffled them and handed them to me to cut. «Now cut ’em three times, Nancy, and if I don’t tell your fourtune true, then there’s no truth in these old cards.”— Well, I cut ’em, and Miss Susie spread ’em out on the table before her, and then hauled on a huge pair of spectieles. Presently I saw her frown dreadfully ; so I says what’s the matter Miss Susie ? for I thought there was something bad a coming. " Nothing child," says Miss Susie, “ only these old eyes don’t see like they used to did." I felt better when Miss Susie said that, and she began to smile. €Nancy, says she, theres a mighty good fortune waiting for you, and I’ll just tell you what’s a going to happen soon. There’s a man you lore a coming to see you soon.— You’ve seed him, before, and you haint had rest day nor night for thinking about him; but it’ill all be over now purty soon, for he's following after you right strait, and if he don’t have you, then there’s no luck in try ing.” I almost jumped out of my skin when she said that, for it was just what I had dream ed. and I knew it would happen when I dreamt it. • But,” continued Miss Susie, “there's another loves you as well as lie does, and they are jealous of one another, and it looks like they are going to have some words about you.” That kinder frightened me, for I was afraid they might fight a duel on my account, but Miss Susie said she didn’t think they would. «But there’s a black-eyed man a coming or range too widely the limitless realm of whose columns press in closer and closer ar- knowledge; and that it is the bounded duty ra .V as they go upward and still upward, of those who possess these blessing, to aid leaving but echoes to denote their pathway, others in their attainment. Such principle as resounding abng the corridors of Time: , , 1 The subject of Reform is then a majestic these, of whose truth we are well persuaded, | subject, not dwindling down to our reach, but and which we are in the constant habit of demanding expansion of thought to embrace asserting, witli reference to the education of it, Nationally the world’s history bears the the mind, apply in a far higher sense to the | impress of its blessings. What were the free education of the heart, and enforce with ten- the reformatory movement of Te Re O fold power the duty of religious instruction, the Revolutim—a colony weak and crippled, The former is not complete without the latter collared by a courtier, and with a chain fas- for a system which educates a human soul for |tened to the manger of a King ! . W hat is time, and ignores all preperation for eternity she? a light house on 6 , ime, bea- . . 1 coning other nations the road to freedom and is without doubt at once imperfect and un- independence. There floats her banner natural. But, in truer view of the matter, above us high in the heavens. The stars mental training without morral culture is pos- | hang clustering on it like white flowers upon itively dangerous, and possibly destructive, the sky, God’s hand festoons the cloud- Some men glorify Mind and Reason, as if draped arch in which it floats. Who were . 1 T the men that steered the storm-tossed bark they were almost gods to be worshiped; and I freighted with freedom, upon the mountian talk of education, as if it were the only and waves of the revolution? Who were the adequate regenerating power of the world 1 men that gave to the world a declaration of and the human race. The truth is, educated 'human rights, second only to the Decalogue? ,. .,...,.., They were Reformers. They were men who alone is an insufficent moral basis, it must be 1 1 . 11 , snapped asunder the ties of antiquated dog- sanctified by divine truth, or it will become a mas and follies—scattered them to the dust, curse instead of a blessing. To store the memo ry with knowledge—to train the understan ding, to discipline the reason, to draw forth all the wondrous energies of the human soul and then have all this perverted to the ruin |and became pioneers on the great highway of I civilization. They were men who thought |for themselves, and spurned the pestilence of | authority. My heart kindles witli fire, and ray soul swells within me, when I see the great pro of the man himself, the injury of his fellow- 1 cession of Reformers pass before my eyes. I men, and the hindrance of the caus of Truth 'see Washington leading the great column of in the world—it would have been far better national Reformers. Beside him walk the , . illustrious Montgomery, Kosciusko, Pulaski, to leave those power dormant and unseen Tell, Lafayette, Hofer, and an army of mar- forever; far better let the ore rust in themine |tyrs, their spirits garlanded witli the light of than forge a weapon from it for the hand of | immortality. The procession passes on where the evil one, in the rude block of marble just | " On Fame’s eternal camping ground brought from the quarry, and ready to be fashioned by the sculptor’s chisel, there lie Their silent tents are spread, And glow keeps eternal watch, Round the Bivouack of the dead." Before my mind comes gathering another to see you, and he’s on his way now ; it ‘pears as if lie’s mighty nigh here now, for he’ll i hidden a thousand possible conception of beu-| sleep in a strange bed to-night." I ty or deformity. If the right artist and the procession, * thousand banners wave above Miss Susie told me a heap of good things, iright instrument are brought to bear upon it zlino olons th thaloest I thanked her, and asked her if she was sure I there may stand fort’ll a face hideous wito de- i There is ore, whose hand has planted ma- it would all come to pass.|pravity, malice, and every evil passion, or a ny a flower up>n the fields of Literature. He a Just as sure as the sun’s shining,” says 'countenauee glowing witli the light of a mor- I carries the ner thronch which his thonchta she, “ and you’ll find it so before the sun sets ;ning star, and clothed in the loveliness of an| to-morrow.” I inhabitant of heaven. The photographer takes I left Miss Susie very much pleased with the burnished metallic plate and prepares it what she had told m for at least one long night of happiness; for remain perfectly optional witli him, whether |carries the per through which his thoughts |were flashed down the columns of the world. There is one who tore the Bible from the |embrace of ignorance, to scatter its hopes I could not find them. said my mind Lament ye “ whales in ocean. Ye " grape vines" well may shy The presence of the ladies, Uunless you wish to die, You’re doomed no doubt to lie. In a" crenoline" grave. In olden times nine yards of cloth. Would make a woman’s dress. But t crinolines" have called, For “ forty" more or less. Young lady would you marry. Before your bead is hoary. Take my advice and right away, Get less in the lower story. There was Simeon Snuffle, and young Peter Giggle, and George Washington Girard New- comb, and the little fat tailor, that lived round the corner, that used to send her can dy and apples in the week, and go to see her on Sunday; and there was the cross-eyed butcher that used to let her have meat at six cents a pound and make me pay ten. For my part I didn’t want him, but I always thought Susie would never do better than to marry him, I used to tell her in them days it wouldn’t do to love so many, and I guess she’s repeated long ago in sackcloth and ash- I could do nothing all the next night but think of my fortune. I took a wonderful liking to her after that, and used to go to see her every day. The day after she told my fortune I called for |and promises among the untold millions of and indebted to her | for the impress of the sunlight. But it still |mankind. He set like a great Sun into the grave, but left behind a light that still ling ers upon the world, and makes the very clouds of death pink and rosy witli the hues upon that sensitive and receptive surface shal be stamped features so radiant witli beauty ttat the beholder shall gaze upon it with pleasure, and remember it with delight, or lineaments so distorted witli passion and mar- her to go to some public meeting witli me I forget now what it was, but there was The ladies of the present day, Are far too proud for me. They think that without " mony," They ne’er can happy be. Give me the girl that’s not afraid, To help her mother sew, Who thinks of somethin better far, Than “dressing" and her beau. Now for my part, I never could do like Susie. In fact, I never could be a coquette. Everybody used to say I was the modestest, genteelest little creature they ever seed.— Why, there was Nathaniel Nettle that came a courting me, and I wasn’t engaged to him but six months, when I found I was lov ing his cousin Sam Sikes, and I kicked him right straight off. People thought it I would that they were plenty, I’d rather have her two to one. Although her purse were empty. Such a girl “was formed to bless, The life of man and share his care. To soothe his breast when keen distress, Hath lodged a poisend arrow there.’ Burke Co. Nov. 12, 1858. Auction Extraordinary. I dreamed a dream in the midst of my slumbers. And as fast as I dreamel it was coined into num- bers; It appeared that a law had lately been made That a tax on old bachetors’ pates should be laid; And in order to make them all willing to marry, The tax was as heavy asman could well carry.| But Ilie bachelors grumbled, and said ‘twas no use,| Twas monstrus injustice and harrid abuse, And swore that to save their own hearts’-blood from spilling. On such a vile tax they would ne'er pay a shilling.; But the rulers determined their zeal to pursue. So they set all the bachelors up at yandue. A crier was sent through the town, to and fro, To rattle his drum and his trumpet to blow; And to cry out to all that he met in his way- «Ifo! forty old bachelors sold here to-day." And presently all the old maids in the town, Each ip her very best bonnet and gown, From thirty to sixty, white, red, fair and pale, Of every description, all flocked to the sale. The auctioneer then witli his labors began; And cried out aloud, as lie lield up a man, /How much for bachelor ? who wants to buy ?" And the chorus of maidens responded, “I, 1‘ And, in short, at a very extravagant price; The bachelors all were sold off in a trice, And folly glad madras—-some younger, some was mighty good in me not to trifle witli his affections, and I declare my good conduct was talked about so much that it made me feel right shame-faced. But folks can’t help but get compliments sometimes, and that’s what they get by being so genteel and mod est in their manners. I always was set up as a model for all the young folks to go by. But I’ve always been sorry that I didn’t marry that poor fellow ! when he found out I wouldn’t have him, he give himself up to grieving after me till he died of a broken heart. And all for that good-for-nothing older, Each lugged an old bichelor home on of hope and heaven. There is one who raised woman in the 'scale of civilization, to which her gentleness, beauty, and purity commended her. Me- . 1 :1thinks his lips still utter - |rid with vice and evil, that we shall turn a-,... .., ,. ,. I _ . | He is a parricile to Ins mother’s name, a | way disgusted from the sight. Just so in the | An I with an impious hand murders her fame. That wrongs the praise of woman—that dares write Libels on saints, or with foul ink requite The milk they lent us I Better sex, command To your defence my more religious hand At sword oi pen! Your’s was the nobler birth, For you of man wore made—man but of earth, The son of dust! And as my eye wanders o’er the bright |array, it is arrested by one whose eyes gleam with affectionate mildness. There is a pride mighty gathering of people; and right there mind unsubjected as yet to the processes of in the midst of ’em all, stood the one I loved. | education, there lie concealed thepossibilities of unlimited good and unlimited evil; and jnst He knew me as soon as he seed me, and be nev er rested till he was at my side, and there h Was too grasping after knowledge, and it would injure my health for life, and that if I went to school much my mind would keep expanding till my head couldn’t hold all I knew, and it would burst open because there wasn’t room enough for my mind to expand any more. My poor mother cried and screamed when she thought her poor Nancy was going to die. She always thought abun dance of me. She always said I was the smartest child she had, and she was afraid I no good would ever come of it. After I got over that spell of sickness, I never went to school any more, so you see I learned all I know in three months, and folks say I’m wonderful smart, and they don’t know what society would do without me. If any gal ever had beaux, it was me after I wrote that piece. You see all the fellows Iwas taking right after me, for they knew my i name would be immortalized one of these days. 1 But I got sorter proud then and wouldn’t have any of ’em, for I always thought I would marry wonderful well, and it’s astonishing to think I ain’t married; but it’s all my fault |after all. |I declare I shall go distracted if I think about these things much longer ; so I 11 just slip on my bonnet and run over to see Susie set a looking as loving as you please. We both knew we was born for one another, and. it was no use in waiting so long; so we set| to work and courted as hard as you ever saw two people, for I was very anxious to have it over with before I got to be an ever-| lasting old maid. Of course we aint mar-| ried yet, but it’s no use to wait for that, for| I was crazy to tell my experience; so I thot’ I would tell it right away, for I was afraid something would turn up before the wedding |took place, and I never would get to tell it {after all. But I think I’ve made a right 'good confession, and if the rest of the world I aint pleased witli it I am. So ends my first confession, and if the |reader takes interest enough in my fate to Ipry into the future, perhaps at some future :day I may gratify them by giving them ar- I other from the pen of their friend, Nancy |Knowall. according as holy or unholy instruments do the work, may that soul becom an angle or a fiend. So plain is it that superadded to intel lectual culture, we must have moral and reli gious training.—N. Y. Leger. I can’t close without saying something more about Miss Susie, for next to myself, I take more interest in her than all the world beside, and I can’t bear to leave her all alone in her single blessedness. An Address, Delivered before the Southern Reform Medical Association, at their Annual Meeting in Ma con, March 2d, 1858, by 0. A. LOCHRANE, Esq., M. D., Professor of Medical Jurispru- dence in the Reform Medical College of Geor- gia. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I appear before you on this occasion as an act of reciprocal courtesy, in obedience to a request of the class, preferred to me some few days since. I am here, however, not for the purpose of apology; my object has awider and more carnet significance. The great theme whicli I propose to discuss, rises before my mind like a mountain, inaccessible almost to the ascending reach of ordinary capacity. A theme, too, radiant with interest in whatever view it may be regarded. The subject of Reform, in a national, so cial, moral, or a scientific relation, is well cal culated to elicit interest, and claim the ho mage of attention, from the erudite and the intelligent. It is the subject of the human race, and rises next in gradeur and sublimity about his step that indicates the freedom of his spirit. Hi hold a banner in his hand. His hand bear the deep impression of a chain; the motto turns to my eye. I see its words. It is, it is the pirit of Thomson, and this is the banner of Medical Reform. Shade of the immor ''is After she seed me so happy, the poor soul| ■felt more miserable ehan ever ; so she went , to calling up the spirits and asking them if a little while. Poor soul! I know she must be lonesome with no companions but them there was any one dead or alive that wasev- grey cats of hern. It’s a mighty lonely 1ife er intended for her._ to lead, and I’m sure I should die with the | One night, Susie and 1 was sitting, round blues if I were an old maid. By the way, the table talking with the spirits, and I ask- I’m.ed them if there was any body nigh that Miss Susie tells fortunes too; so while there I’ll just get her to run the cards for loved Susie, and the spirit wrote on the pa- had per, "he’s at the door." Just then some- to the eternity of his being. It is "the breath of God, on the fainting earth to make it live." It is the music of heaven that makes the world dance with joy—it is that spirit which lifts man from the dust—lights up his intellect, gleams through his mind, and in troduces him to the banquet of the angels. Let the world stand still—let the human mind pause, and hang suspended in its Up ward flight, and mankind would become idiots, and God deserted. The advance of civiliza tion, the progression of science, the achiev- permitted to celestial beings ever revisit the scenes of earth, I invoke thy presence now. Let thy spirit hover over this Institution. Inspire us witli wisdom, courage and hope. Let our vows of fidelity be made to thee. Hear our pledges, and let them rise as in cense from this altar. Render us worthy of thy memory, and of the great principles it is our pride to advocate. Ladies and Gentlemen—as soon as the mind becomes alive to reason, and thought asserts its power, our attention becomes naturally arrested by the contemplation of such subjects as are within our reach. As we advance in life, and our reasoning faculties are more ful ly developed, our scope of observation takes a wider range, and the subjects whicli elicit our attention are not confined by such as sur round us only, but thought bears us along to the fields of investigation where our temporal interests are thickly planted. In this spirit of investigation, to-night, I would address ■you on the subject of Medical Reform, and jbear your minds to the contemplation of a |theme fruitful witli interest. I shall not bear you to a distant age, and point to the cradle in which infant medicine Iwas first rocked. I shall enter upon no eulo- jgy of the men whose hands first rocked it. I |shall not follow its upward, downward, round about, zigzag path through the grey dust of centuries to illustrate my subject. The plat form I stand upon needs no dogmas of antiq- me, and tell me whether that dream I uity to sustain it, Its pillars were not dug Sam Sikes, that after all courted Molly Brown. But she boxed his cars two weeks after they were married, and sent him where pleasure never dies. I wasn’t sorry for him one bit; that’s what he got for not marrying me. It’s wonderful strange how the ghost’s of other days will haunt a body. Why all that t’other night, will come to pass or no. a mighty hard way to make a living that’s her gift she can’t help it. It’s. body knocked, and Miss Susie had to leave but if the spiritsand go, and sure enough there was a stranger asking for Miss “ Susan Prim.” His name was « Jonathan Vinegar." ments of the human intellect alone preserv mental and national health, and index the j out by hands that centuries ago were moulder lineal decent of man from divinity. It is ing in dust—it boasts no lineage from kings this alone distinguishes us from the beasts that perish, stirs the deep sympathies of the ing in dust—it boasts no lineage from kings, ancients or priestcraft. Its infant steps were j , not first tottered on carpets—no gloved hand You soul, awakens thought, thrill with emotion, led it. It was born in a meadow, sprinkled 08, those brilliant thoughts of with flowers. Nature’s hand led its infant TEN MISS Susie I thought you | see he had rcad her " confessions of and old makes the stars, those brilliant thoughts of 8) 1 '’ e : . Maid,” and he was an old bachelor; so he God, printed upon the pages of the heavens, steps. Samite Thomson took it to his home, started right off to see Susie. They courted intelligible to his sense, where he may look nursed it, and to him the world is indebted was I jup and read the glories of his origin, and for its life of services. a long time, but at last they made up their .converse witli nature. Medical Riform slept its first sleep, like minds to marry, and if that “ Prim’ didirt | Let the world stand still—close up aven- the author of ill our being, upon hay; and it turn to “ Vinegar," I never seed anything ' ues to enterprise, crumble the crown of sour. AUGUSTA, Ga. was lonesome here by yourself, and I’d run over a little while to see what you driving at. “Well, I’m mighty glad you with come, child, for I was just a sitting here happened long ago, one, two, three, it sure- my pipe in my mouth, nursing my cats and ly can’t be so long as that. I think my age thinking they was all that cared for poor Su- in the old family Bible needs altering again, sie. But you was always mighty good to It must be nigh ten years since I altered it | care for me, Nancy, and the Lord will take last. Sixty-nine, indeed! I can’t j my eyesight. But I’ll just rub out and make a two in the place of it; wants a slight mistake to make me believe a liking to you for it.” the six' After Miss Susie and Iliad talked a while. it only I asked her to tell my fortune for me; for twenty- there was something a preying on my mind. There’s So Miss Susie went to her drawer and got nine, just exactly the right age. luck in leisure, and Nancy Knowall never an old deck of cards. They were mighty waited this long for nothing, and folks need dirty and the corners was cropped off, but Inot think I’m going to marry anybody I can she said there was truth in them old cards, her .'lot'!- pick up for the sake of having their old and she wouldn t swap them fol nary deck 'er “' clothes to mend and wash. What would my I she ever seed. An Article for Parents. The education of the mind has come to be regarded, in our country,as a universal ne cessity we believe that all men—and each in dividual man—ought to be educated; that our liberties depend on the proper education of the people, and the sound and enlightened public opinion thus formed; that every human , - am- is the boast aid pride of its disciples, that its bition. Better, far better, that thought la- first food was Lobelia; that this agent so boring for birth in the brain should murder sleep eternally. Better that the brain itself should break in the struggle. Better that energy and industry should break our bones, and we would go limping and crawling about, to energise and keep up the circulation of the world’s life, than let the pulse of the mindi throb no more, and the skull become tenant- less. The mind active in its energies, untiring in much denounced as a poison, was the origin of its life—the very birth of the system thus becoming the confutation of the charge. The question may present itself as to what inter- est we all have in the discoveries of medicine; and to prepare the mind for the beauties of these discoveries —to induce attention and interest, I will briefly capitulate the promi- ner t reasons for its existence. I will take for illustration, a young lady, whose beauty I "needs not the painted flourish of my praise.” She is laid a pallid sufferer upon the couch of 1 But destiny sickne s. |sible; that the immortal powers bestowed by is still unfulfilled—onward and upward, is to wither, our Creator cannot be developed too much, the motto of that great tide of humunity, I[ |its resources, cries out against the treason, . , and the man who concocts it will fall dead by mind ought to be educated as much as pos- the wayside and lie as a weed. Around her, blooming hopes begin Pleasure’s blossom’s lose all per- [Concluded on fourth page]
