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Established 1826. Leorgia Telegrapli IJniiaing, Macon l.j.anph find Messenger, one year §10 00 fix wont’as 5 00 Oze month 100 cni-VTeckly Telegraph and Messenger, 1 4 00 tjjaiaaths * 2 00 W'eeMy Telegraph and Messen- ^7r,G columns, 1 year 3 00 Six months 1 50 ixahla al'vsys in advance, and paper stopped ehen the money runs out, unless rcnewod. rnalNO AKBiSOEMENTS WITH 3. XV. BURKE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS- ilv Tel'graph & Messenger and Farm n’d Home •• ekly Teles-japh and ’arm and Home lii-'Weekly Tvlegrapl nd Farm and Home I §1100 U y Te’.e^iapli and Messenger and in'ii and Home • ••••••• 4 00 [.Weekly Telegraph and Messenger 1 Farm and Ilojna 5 00 irrn (’hri'tiaa Advocate With Weekly 5 00 e’s Weekly 4 00 Lost. ■•H r white bands folded acroes her breast. And !ot the deep and dreamless rest Be over bp and eyelid pressed. Her heart Ins ceased its tiny beat, Have ceased to ran the little feet. The lips am mate that were eo sweet. Ko more to press the pillow white, Sor w.sken with the morning light, A rosy, UBgbiDg little sprite. Take all the nameless store of things, The dolls, the speckled partridge wings, Tiie shells with pink and pearly rings. Ard let the deep and dreamless rest Of which onr darling is possessed Seize all the toys her hands have pressed. Fcr no more throngh the darkened days Cm onr hearts bear, or onr eyes gaze tpen those things that mado her plays. Wu!o ‘‘Blessed are the early dead,” So more for the beloved head Are ever any atoms to dxead. fi ne, forth for ns the fields lie white With frost; the mildew and tho blight Htvo struck thohaivests in a night. k TOSS UP FOR A HUSBAND. the marchioness was at her toilet. Florine i Aspnsia, her two ladies’ maids, wero busy pwilaring, as it were with hoar frost, the bo- t»citing widow. Sbo was a widow, this marchioness; a widow :1 i3; and wealthy, as very few persons were cy longer at the court of Lonis XV., her gyl- fitfcc-r. ratio and twenty years earliet, his majesty Li held her at the baptismal font of tho chapel a Harley, and had settled npon her an income {1<»».000 livres, by way of proving to her ilber, tho Baron Fontevranlt, who had saved iii life at tho battle of Fontcnoy, that kings no bo grateful, whatever people choose to say b tho contrary. Tho marchioness then was a widow. She re ded. during tho summer, in a charming little iateau, situated half way up the slope over- longing tho water, on the road from Bongival a Saint Germain. Mmo. Dubarry’s estate ad viced liers ; and on opening her eyes she conld f, without rising, tho white gable-ends and do wide-spreading chesnnt trees of Luciennes, Torched upon the heights. On this particular lay—it was noon—tho marchioness, while her ..tendants dressed her hair and arranged her ..cd-drcss with the most exquisite tnse, gravely employed her/M?lf in tossing np, alternately, a aaplo of fine oranges, which crossed eneb other is tho air, and then dropped into the white and idicato hands that caught them in their fall. This sleight-of-hand—which the marchion ess interrupted at times while she adjusted a beauty-spot on her lip, or cast on impatient t’anco on tho crystal clock that told how time ias running away with the fair widows’s precious nouients—had lasted for ten minntes, when the folding doors wore thrown open, and a valet, meb as one secs now only on tho stage, an nounced with pompons voice, “The king!” Apparently tho marchioness was accustomed to such, visits, for she but half rose from her scat, a; she sainted with her most gracious smile the persona go who entered. It was indeed Louis XV. himself—Louis XV. it C3; but robust, upright, with smiling lip and teaming eye, and jauntily clad in a close-fitting pearl grey’hunting suit, that became him to per fection. ’lie carried under his arm a handsome fowling piece, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; a ail pouch, intended for ammunition alone, i-Tmg over his shoulder. The king had come from Luciennes almost •lone—that is to say, with a captain of the Gaud, the old Marshal do Richelieu, and a sin- f!o equerry on foot. Ho had been amusing tiuself with qnail-shooting, loading his own cm, as was the fashion with his ancestors, the latter Valois'and tho earlier Bonrbons. His pandsire, Henry IV., could not have been less ceremonious. But a shower of hail had surprised him; and -s majesty had no relish for it. He pretended 'tat the fire of an enemy’s battery was less disa- grceahlo than those drops of water, 60 small and hard, that wetted him through, and reminded hm of his twinges of rheumatism. Fortunately ho was bnt a few steps from the S»teway of the chateau when the shower com menced. He had come, therefore, to take shel ter with his god-daughter, having dismissed his •fite, and only keeping with him a magnificent Painter, whose genealogy was fnlly established ty the Duko do Richelieu and traced back, with •few slips in orthography, directly to Nisus, that celebrated greyhound given by Charles IX. to his friond Ronsard, the poet. “Good morning, marchioness,” said the king, » he entered, putting down his fowliog-pieco ia a comer. “I have come to ask your hospi tality. We were canghtina shower at your Sate—Richelieu and L I have packed off Riche lieu. “Ah, that wasn’t very kind of you.” “Hush! ” replied tho King, in a good-humored tone. “It’s only midday; and if the marshal «d forced his way in hero at so early an hour to would have bragged of it everywhere, this tery evening. He is very apt to compromise 'no, and ho is a great coxcomb too, tho old fake. Bnt don’t yon pnt yourself out of tho *»y, marchioness. Let Aspnsia finish this be aming pile of yonr head-dress, and Florine spread out with her silver knifo the scented Powder that blends so well with tho roses and ’to lilies of yonr bewitching face. Why. march- •oness,you’re so pretty, one could eat you up!” ‘‘You think mo so, sire ?” I tell you so every day, Ob, what fine ^gesl” And the king seated himself on the roomy jo'*, by the side of the marchioness, whose rosy “S®r-tips he kissed xvith an infinity of grace. •«a, taking np one of the oranges he had ad- he proceeded leisurely to examine it. . .‘But," said ho at length, “what are oranges wing by the side of yonr Chinese powder-box lour scent-bottles? Is there any connection "'tween this fruit and tho maintenance—easy ,7fa. marchioness—of your charms?” “fniRii 636 oranges,” replied the lady, gravely, ti n y i. i'tst now, sire, the functions of des- Ihfl kin S opened wide his eyes, and stroked BireV 8 ears of bis dog, by way of giving the if?oiotress time to explain her meaning. a.** wss the countess who gave them to me,” ^continued. Madame Dubarry ?” SMctlyso, sire.” tjj * trumpery gift, it seems to me, mar- *at n 0l<1 >t, on tho contrary, to be an import- ii... ! since I repeat to yonr majesty that I,, oranges decide my fate.' ”1 i? v ® il n P>” Bai *i tho king. *«*3 s l ro 5 yesterday I found the coun- fawn *v pie ^ in i° ssiD f? her oranges up and feemJa And th° marchioness recom- ^bcd.” gamo with a skill that cannot be * E6e >” Ba i<T the king: “she accompanied this singular amusement xvith the words, ‘Up, Choiseul! np, Praslin!’ and, on my word, I can fancy how the pair jumped.” “Precisely so, sire.” “And do you dabblo in politics, marchioness? Have you a fancy for uniting with the countess' just to mortify my poor ministers ?” “By no means, sire; for, in place of Mon sieur do Choiseul and Dnke de Praslin, I was saying to myself just now, ‘Up, Minneval! up, Beaugencyl’” “Aye, aye,” returned, the king; “ana why the deuce would you have them jumping, those two good-looking gentlemen—Monsieur de Men- neval, who is a Croesus, and Monsieur de Beau- genoy, who is a statesman, and dances the min uet to perfection.” ‘Til tell you,’’said the lady. “You know, sire, that Monsieur de Mpnneval is an accomplished gentleman, a handsome man, a gallant cavalier, an indefatigable dancer, witty as Monsieur Arouet, and longing for nothing so much as to live in the country, on his estate in Tonrine, on the banks of the Loire, with the woman whom he loves, or will love, far from the court, from grandeur, and from turmoil.” “And, on my life, he’s in the right of it,” qnoth the king. “One does become so wearied at court.” “Aye, and no,” rejoined the widow, as she pnt on her last beauty spot. “Nor are you aware, sire, that Monsieur de Beaugency is one of the most brilliant courtiers of Marly and of Versailles; ambitions, burning xvith zeal for the service of your majesty, as brave as Monsieur Mennevai; and capable of going to the end of tho earth—with the title of ambassador of the king of France.” “I know that,” chimed in Lonis XV., xvith a laugh. “But, alas, I have more embassadors than embassies. My ante-chambers overflow every morning.” “Now,” continued tho marchioness, ‘5 have been a widow these two years past.” “A long lime; there’s no denying.' “Ah,” sighed she, “there’s no need to tell me so, sire. Bat Monsienr de Mennevai loves me, —at least he says so, and I am easily persuad ed.” “VeTyweil; then marry Monsieur do Men neval.” “I have thought of it, Eire; and in truth I might do much worse. I should like well enough to live in the country, under the willow trees, on the borders of the river, xvith a hus band fond, yielding, loving, who would detest the philosophers and set some littltf value on the poets. When no external noises disturb the honeymoon, that month, sire, may be indefi nitely prolonged. In tho country, you know, one never hears a noise.” “Unless it be the north wind moaning in the corridor, and the rain pattering on the window- panes.” And tho king shivered slightly oh his sofa. “Bnt,” added the lady, “Monsienr de Beau gency loves me equally well.” “Ah, ha! the ambitious man!” “Ambition does not shut ont love, sire. Monsienr de Beaugency is a marqnis; he is 25; he is ambitious. I should like a husband X’astly who was longing to reach high offices of state. Greatness has its own particular merit.” “Then marry Monsienr de Beaugency.” “I have thought of that also; but Ibis poor Monsienr de Mennevai.” “Very good,” exclaimed the king, laughing; ‘Mow I see to what purposes the oranges are destined. Monsienr de* Mennevai pleases you; Monsieur de Beaugency would suit you just as well; and since yon can’t have more than one husband, yon make them each jump in tarn.” Just so, sire ; but observe xvhat happens.” “Ah, xvhat does happen ?” “That, nnable and unwilling to play unfairly, I take equal pains to catch tbo two oranges as they come down; and that I catch them both each time.” “Well, are yon willing that I should take part in your game ?” “You, sire ? Ah, what a joko that would be 1” “I am very clumsy, marchioness. To a cer tainty, in less than three minutes, Beaugency and Slenneval will be rolling on the floor.” “Ah!” exclaimed the lady,” and if you have any preference for one or the other ?” “No; we’ll do better. Look, I take fhe two oranges; yon mark them carefully—or, better still, you etitch into ono of them one of these toilet pins, making np your own mind which of the two is to represent Monsieur de Beaugency, and leaving me, on that point, entirely in the dark. If Monsienr de Beaugency touch tho floor yon shall marry his rival; if it happen just otherwise, you shall resign yourself to become an ambassadress.” “Excellent! Now, sire, let’s seethe result.” The king took tho two oranges and plied shut tle xvith them above bis bead. Bnt, at the third pass, the two rolled down upon the embroidered carpet, and tho marchioness broke ont into a merry fit of laughter. “I foresaw as much,” exclaimed his majesty. “What a clumsy fellow I am!” “And we are more puzzled than ever, sire.” “So we are, marchioness; bnt the best thing we can do is to slice tbo oranges, sngar them well, and season them with a dash of West India rum. Then yon can beg me taste them, and offer me some of those preserved cherries and peaches that you pnt up just as nicely as my daughter Adelaide.” “And Monsieur de Mennevai, and Monsienr de Beaugency ?” said the marchioness, in pite ous accents. “How is tho question to be settled? Louis XV. began to cogitate. “Are yon quite sure,” said he, “that both of them are in love xvith yon?” “Probably so,” returned she, xvith a little co quettish smile, sent back to her from the mirror opposite. “And their love is equally strong?” “I trust so, sire.” “And I don’t believe a word of it.” “Ah 1” said the marchioness; “bnt that is, in truth, a most terriblo supposition. Besides, sire, they are on their way hither.” “Both of them?” “One after the otheT; the marqnis atl o’clock precisely; the baron at 2. I promised them my decision to-morrow, on condition that they would pay me a final visit to-day.” As the marchioness finished, the valet, who had announced the king, came to inform his mistress that Monsienr de Beaugency was in the draxving-room, and solicited the favor of admis sion to pay his respects. “Capital!” said Lonis XV., smilingas though he were 18; show Monsieur de Beaugency in. Marchioness, you will receive him, and tell him the price that you set upon yonr hand.” “And what is this price, sire ?” ‘‘Yon must give him tho choice—either to re nounce you, or to consent to send into mo his resignation of his appointments, in order that he may go and bury himself with his wife on his estate of Conrlac, in Poiton, there to live tho life of a country gentleman.” “And then, sire?” “You will allow him a couple of hours for re flection, and so dismiss him.” “And in the end ?” “The rest is my concern.” And the king got np, taking his dog and his gnu, and concealed ■ himself behind a screen, drawing also a curtain, that he might be completely hidden. “What is your intention, sire ?” asked the j marchioness. “I conceal myself, like the kings of Persia, J from the eyes of my subjects,” replied Louis , XV. “Hush, marchiness 1” A few moments later, and Monsienr de Beau- j gency entered tho room. n» _ ^ | The marquis was a charming cavalier; tall, j slight, xvith a moustache black and curling np-; ward, an eye sparkling and intelligent, a Roman , nose, an Australian lip, a firm step, a noble and | imposing presence. ' • i Tho marchioness blushed slightly at sight of i him, but offered him her hand to kiss; and as J she bogged him, by a gesture, to be seated, j thus inwardly took counsel with herself: “Decidedly, I believe that the test is useless;, it is Monsieur de Beaugency whom I love. How ( proud shall I bo to loan upon his arm at tho court fetes! With what delight shall I keep I long watches in the. cabinet of his excellency the ambassador, while he is busy with his ma jesty’s affairs." But after this “aside,” the marchioness re- ™ me d her gracious and coquettish air; as though the woman comprehended the mission of refined gallantry which was reserved for her seductive and delicate epoch by an indulgent providence, that laid by its anger and its evil days for the subsequent reign. “Marchioness," said Monsieur de Beaugency, as he held in hls trands the rosy fingers of tho lovely xvidow, “it is fully a week Bince you re ceived me 1” “A week? why, you were here yesterday!” “Then I must have counted the hours for ages.” “A compliment which may bo found in one of the younger Crebillon’s books!” “You are hard npon me, marchioness.” “Perhaps so, it comc3 naturally. Iam tired.” Ah, marchioness! Heaven knows that I would make of your existence ono never ending fete!” ‘‘That would at'least be wearisome.” “Say a word, madam, one single word, and my fortune, my future prospects, my ambi tion !—” “You are still, then, as ambitious as ever?” “More than ever, since I have been in love xvith you.” “Is that necessary?” “Beyond a doubt. Ambition—whnt is it but honors, wealth, the envious looks of impotent rivals, the admiration of the crowd, the favor of monarchs ? And is not one’s love unanswer ably and most triumphantly proved in laying all this at the fpet of the woman whom ono adores ?” “You may be right.” “I may be right, marchioness! Listen to me, my fair lady love.” “I am all attention, sir.” “Between nB, who are well born, and consort not with plebeians, that vulgar and sentimental sort of love xvhich is painted by those who write books for your mantua makers and chamber maids, would bo in exceedingly bad taste. It would be but slighting love and making no ac count of its enjoyment, were we to go and bury it in some obscure comer of the province, or of Paris—we, who belong to Versailles—living away there xvith it, in monotous solitude and unchanging contemplation!” “Ah!” said the marchioness, “you think so?” “Tell me rather of fetes that dazzle one xvith lights, with noise, with smiles, with wit, throngh which one glides intoxicated, xvith the fair con quest in triumph on one’s arm. “Why hide one’s happiness, in place of para ding it? Tho jealousy of the world does but increase and cannot diminish it. My uncle, the cardinal, stands well at conrt. He has the king’s ear, and, better still, the conntess. He will, ere long procure me one of tho northern embassies. Cannot yon fancy yourself, madamo the ambas sadress, treading on the dais of a drawingroom, as royalty with royalty, wilh the highest nobil ity of a kingdom—having the men at your feet, and the women on lower seats aronnd you, whilst you yourself are occupant of a throne and wield a sceptre ?” ; And as Monsienr de Beaugency warmed with his own eloquence, he gently slid from his seat to the knees of the marchioness whose hand he covered xvith kisses. She listened to him, with a smile on her lips, and then abruptly said to him: “Rise, sir, and hear me in turn. Are yon in troth sincerely attached to me ?” “With my whole soul, marchioness!” “Are yon prepared to make every sacrifice?” “Every one, madam.” ‘ ‘That is fortunate indeed; for to be prepared for all, is to accomplish one, one, without the slightest difficulty; and it is bnt a single ono that I require.” “Oh, speak! Must a throne be conquered?” “By no means, sir. You must only call to mind that yon have a fine chattean in Poiton.” “Pooh!” said Monsienr de Beaugency; “a shed." “Every man’s house is his castle,” replied the widow. “And having called it to mind yon need only order post-horses.” “For what purpose ?” “To carry me off to Conrlac. It is there that yonr almoner shall nnite us, in the chapel, in presence of yonr domestics and your vassals, onr only xvifnessess.” “A singular whim, marchioness; but I sub mit to it.” “Very well. We will set out this evening, ah! I forgot." “What farther?" “Before starting you will send in your resig nation to the king.” Monsienr de Beaugency almost bounded from his seat. “Do yon dream of that, marchioness ?” ‘ ‘Assuredly. Yon will not, at Conrlao, be able to perform yonr duties at court.” “And on reluming?” “We will not return.” “We will—not—return!” slowly ejaculated Monsienr de Beaugency. “Where then shall we proceed ?” “Nowhere. We xvill remain at Courlao.” “All the summer?” “And all the winter. I count upon settling myself there, after onr marriage. I have a horror of the court. I do not like the turmoil. Grandeur wearies me. I look forward only to a ample and charming country life, to a tran quil and happy existence of the forgotten lady of the castle. What matters it to yon? You were ambitious for my love’s sake. I care bnt little for ambition; yon ought to care for it still less, since you are in love xvith me. “Bnt, marchioness” “Hush 1 it’s a bargain. Still, for form’s sake, I give you one hour to reflect. There, pass out that way; go into the winter drawing-room that you xvill find at the end of the gallery, and send me your answer npon a leaf of your tablets. I am about to complete my toilet, which I left unfinished, to receive you.” And tho marchioness opened the door, bowed Monsienr do Beaugency into the corridor, and closed the door npon him. “Marchioness,” cried the brag, from his hid ing place and throngh the screen. “You will offer Monsieur de Mennevai the embassy to Prussia, which I promise you for him. “And you will not emerge from your re treat?” “Certainly not, madame; “it is far moro amusing to remain behind tho scenes. One hears all, laughs at one’s ease, and is not troub led xvith saying anything.” It struck two. Monsieur do Mennevai was an nounced. His majesty remained snug, and shammed dead. m. Monsieur de Mennevai was at all points, a cavalier who yielded nothing to his rival, Mon sieur de Beaugency. He was fair. He had a bine eye, a broad forehead, a month that wore a dreamy expression, and that somewhat pen sive air which became so well the troubadours of France in the olden time. We cannot say whether Monsienr de Menne vai had perpetrated verse; bnt he loved the poets, the arts, the qnietof the fields, the sun set, the rosy dawn, the breeze sighing throngh the foliage, tho low and mysterious tones of the harp, sonndiDg at eve from the light bark shoot ing over thebluo waters of the Loire—all things, in short, that harmonised xvith that melodious concert of the heart which passes by the name of love. He was timid, but he passionately loved the beautiful widow, and his dearest dream was of passing his whole life at her feet, in well-chosen retirement, far from those envious lookers-on who are ever ready to fling their sarcasms on quiet happiness, and who dissemble their envy under cloak of a philosophic skepticism. He trembled as he entered the niarchioness’ boudoir. He remained standing before her, and blushed as ho kissed her hand. At length, en couraged by a smile, emboldened by the solem nity of this coveted interview, ho spoke to her of his love with a poetio sympathy and an on- premedited warmth of heart—the genuine en thusiasm of a priest who has faith in the object of his adoration. And as he spoke, the marchioness Bighed snd said xrithin herself: “He is right. Love is happiness. Love is to be two indeed, but one at the same rime; and to be free from those importunate intermed dlers, the indifference of the mocking attention of the world.” She remembered, however, the advice of tho king, and thus addressed the baron: “What xvill you indeed do, in order to con vince me of yonr affection?" “All that man can do.” ' The baron was less bold than Monsienr de Beaugency, who had talked of conquering a throne. He was probably more sincere. “I am ambitions,” said the widow. “Ah!” replied Monsieur Minneval, sorrow fully. “And I would that the man whom I marry should aspire to everything, and achieve every thing.” . - - “I xvill try so to do, if you wish it” “Listen; I give you an hour to reflect. I am, you know, the king’s god-daughter.- I have begged of him an embassy for von.” “Ahsaid Monsieur de Mennevai, xvith in difference. “He has granted my request. If yon love me, you xvill accept tho offer. We xvill be mar ried this evening, and yonr excellenoy, the am bassador to Prussia, will set off for Berlin imme diately after the nuptials. Refleot; I grant yon an hour.” “It is useless,” answered Monsieur de Men nevai ; “I have no need of reflection, for I love you. Yonr wishes are my orders; to obey yon is my only desire. I accept the embassy.” Nevor mind! "said she, tremblmg for joy, and blushing deeply. “Pass into the room where in you were just waiting. I must complete my toilet, and I shall then be at yonr service, will summon yon.” The marchioness handed ont the baron by the right hand door, as she had handed ont the mar quis by the left, and then said to herself: “I shall be prettily embarrassed, if Monsieur de Beaugency should consent to end his days at Conrlac!” Thereupon the king removed the screen and reappeared. His majesty stepped quietly to tho round ta ble, whereupon he had replaced tho oranges, and look np ono of them. . • “Ah!” exclaimed the marchioness, “I per ceive, sire, that yon foresee the difficulty that is about to spring np, and go back accordingly to the oranges, in order to settle it.” As his solo reply, Louis XY. took a small ivory-handled penknife from his waistcoat pook- et, made an incision in the rind of the orange, peeled it off very neatly, divided the frail into two parts, and offered one to the astonished marchioness. “But, sire, what are you domg ?” was her eager inquiry. “Yon see that I am eating the orange. “Bat ” “It was of no manner of nse to us.” “You have decided, then ?” “Unquestionably. Monsieur de Mennevai loves yon better than Monsienr de Beaugency.” “That is not quite certain yet; let us wait.” “Look,” said the king, pointing to the valet, who entered xvith a note from the marqnis. “We’ll soon see.” The widow opened the note and read: _ “Madam, I love you—Heaven is my witness; and to give yon up is tho most cruel of sacri fices. Bnt I am a gentleman. A gentleman be longs to a king. My life, my blood aro his. I cannot, without forfeit of my loyalty, abandon his service ” “ Et cetera,” chimed the king, “as was ob served by the Abbe Flcury, my tutor. Marchi oness, call in Monsieur Mennevai.” Monsienr de Mennevai entered, and was great ly troubled to see the king in the widow’s bou doir. “Baron,” said his majesty, “Monsienr de Beau gency was deeply in love with the marchioness, bnt he was more deeply still in love—since he would not renounce it to please her—with the embassy to Prussia. And you, you lova the marchioness much better than you love mo, since yon would only enter my service for her sake. This leads me to believe that you would be a lukewarm public servant, and that Mon sienr de Beaugency xvill make an excellent am bassador. He will start forBerlin this evening; and yon shall marry the marchioness. I xvill be present at the ceremony.” “Marchioness,” whispered Lonis XV., in the ear of his god-daughter, “true love is that which does not shrink from a sacrifice.” And the king peeled the second orange and ate it, as he placed the hand of the xvidow in that of the baron. Then he added: “I have been making three persona happy: the marchioness, whose indecision I have re lieved; the baron, who shall marry her;, and Monsienr de Beaugency, who will, perchance, prove a sorry ambassador. In all this I have only neglected my own interests, for I have been eating the oranges without sugar. And yet they will have it that I am a selfish mon arch!” From Blackwood?*. Magazine.] Tlic Descent of Kan. .- ' (daswin EOQtrnun.) “Man comes froin a Mammal that lived np a tree, And a great coat of hair, on his outside had be, Very much like the Drcadnaughts we frequently eoc— Which nobody can deny. “Ho had points to his ears, and a tail to his romp, To assist him with ease tho branches to jump— In some cases quite long, and in some a mere stump., ■Which nobody can deny. “This mammal, abstaining from miscbievon3 pranks, Was thought worthy in time to be raised from the ranks, And with somo small ado came to stand on two shanks— Which nobody can deny. “Thus planted, his course he so prudently steered. That his hand soon improved and his intellect cleared; Then his forehead enlarged and his tail disappeared, Which nobody can deny. “ ’Tien’t easy to settle when man became man, When tho Monkey-type stopped and Human began; Bnt some queer things wero involved in tho plan— Which nobody can deny.” ******** After all, then, I ask, what’s the object in view? And what practical good froin this creed can ensue ? I can’t find in it mnch that s both needful and now, Which nobody can deny. Our old friend, Lucretius explained long ago How the fittest survive and tho xveak are laid low; And onr friends of the farm must a thing or two know— Which nobody can deny. I would ne’er take offense at what’s honestly meant, Or that truth should be told of our lowly descent; To bo sprung from the dust Fm humbly content— Which nobody can deny. But this groping and guessing may allbe mistaken, And in sensitive minds may much trouble awaken, Sol shut up my book and go back to my Bacon— Which nobody can deny. Religions Nexvspapers. From the Golden Age. 1 A Brooklyn clergyman is reported to have said that there are not more than five self-sup porting religious newspapers in this country. The preacher did not say whether his statement came from positive knowledge or inspiration. Perhaps he merely meant to say a smart thing, and make a momentary sensation. But, however remarkable the statement may seem, as coming from tho lips of a minister who was denouncing “lying newspapers,” it is undoubtedly true that most of onr denominational papers are in an impecunious condition,and depend upon wealthy individuals, or churches, or the sects in whose interest they are published, to make np the an nual deficit in their receipts. This, however, is not because these papers are religious, but becauso they are denominational and usually poor. Tho American people are getting sick of sectarianism; and whatever defends and advocates it in any of its forms is fast becom ing a stench in their nostrils as well as a drug in the market. One of the hopeful signs of a better future for religion is the fact that it is almost as hard to ran a newspaper with a sect attached to it, as to fly a kite with a grind stone tied to its tail. Bat it is a mistake to call a paper religious because it is given up to the advocacy of the dogmas and politics of a de nomination ; indeed, many such papers are as one-sided and unscrupulous in their assertions, as worldly and violent and virulent in spirit, and as deficient in the courtesies of civilized life and the graces of a Christian character as most of the political journals of the land. They represent the irreligious press of the country. A distinguished clergyman told us not long since that he dreaded the inflnenco of the unreligion and irreligion of Ms denominational papers in his family far more than that of any secular prints. Indeed, one reason why it goes so hard with sectarian papers generally is that the best secular journals are so mnch more religi ons as well as able, and do so much more to re form social abases, and diffuse philanthropic and Christian sentiments throngh the commu nity. A strange old man known as “Old Tonkery,” but whose full name was David Tonkery, lately died in Armenia, Duchess county, .N. Y. His house was in a wild ravine, remote from other habitations, and his life was spent in retire ment from society. No one knew whence els came—they simply knew that he did enter their midst penniless, for he pnrcb» ae ^ a tract of land containing nearly om 1 hundred acres, wMoh ho owned at the tim® of Ms death. “Old Tonkery” was a monomaniac on the subject of witchoraft. This formed the theme of Ms con versation, audit Is said that his belief in xvitchcs and Ms aversion to them were so strong that he would not permit any woman having black eyeB to trespass on his domain, for he entertained the singular notion that all black-eyed women were in le ague with the devil. He kept a rifle in his house loaded xvith a silver bullet, with wMch to shoot witches. He even placed a water wheel over a stream running past his house, xvith wMch to shake witches to death. After “Old Tonkery” died, the town authorities took his property, there being no heirs, and converted it to the use of the poor. From Houston County. HusEVUiE, Houston Co., April 28, 1871. Editors Telegraph and Messenger : I passed throngh this place yesterday, and was charmed xvith it and the surrounding country. Indeed, I do not remember ever to have visited a pret tier spot than that wMch is claimed by the good people of Hainevillo and its vicinity. Every one xvith whom I came in contact was hospitable and pleasant, and appeared to delight in enter taining a stranger. Hainevillo has much more to boast of than beautiful scenery. It is a land also of pretty women, and with whom it is by no means difficult to pass a happy hour. I was amused with a remark very innocently made by one fair daughter of good family, and not long from college, and who had been made some what acquainted xvith the theories of vital force and electricity, that a great many parlies had been given last winter, but that the eleotrio fluid set in motion had only resulted in one marriage, that of a widow. “ Some court tho sun and some the shade— Some the xvidow, some tho maid.” I found that Disraeli’s novel, “Lothair," dealing as it does in such complimentary terms of Southern character, had been much read in this neighborhood. The people still like to re call and talk over the good old days of tho glori ous past, when they had all tbat made life bright and happy. They, however, accept tho present situation, and endeavor, notwithstand ing Cowper’a lines, to keep before them tho star of hope— What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! How sweet thoir memory still! Bat they have left an aching void . Tho world can never fill. Ono idea struck mo as very sensible; the light of Mstory, teaching as it does, that, as a r3e, where large interests are concerned, no sudden and violent political change can take place xvithout bloodshed, debt and misery, how much moro far-sighted it would have been, granting that the question of the abolition of slavery was the real cause of the war, to have inaugurated some scheme of full money compen sation for slave property acquired under laxvs in the passing of wMch the owners had had no say, than to fight over the matter and afterwards pay ten times the value of that property in tho shape of a national debt. A quiet Christian spirit pervades Hainevillo, testifying to the efficacy of the preaching of the Gospel. Whites and blacks live in peace and good xvill. An excellent school-master passes rich on forty pounds a year. There are three or four physicians and laxvyers—all spoken of as men of reputation and ability. Several groceries appear to flourish. The people of Macon conld not select a nicer spot for a pic nic or excursion. They would be sure to have good sport fisMng, the Mossy and Big Indian creeks abounding in fish. Com has been planted moro abundantly this than last year. Tho rains have, however, some what interferred with farming operations. It is hoped that Hainesville will soon become a railway station, a consummation wMehwill greatly improve the prospects of her people. I observe the Teleoeath and Messenger in tho hands of many persons. I was surprised to find the Daily taken by several families. The paper is evidently read with mnch interest throughout tMs section. Yours respectfully, Vancouver. Lucien Moreau.—Among the Americans who sacrificed their lives in tho cause of France was Lucien Moreau, whose name will be recognized by hundreds who had been Ms comrades in fili bustering expeditions and in the rebel service. A descendant of Moreau, a marshal of the Em pire, he was bom in Louisiana, about 1824, Ms family, like the Murats and Bonapartes, having come to this country after the downfall of the first Napoleon. He was essentially an adven turer, allying Mmself to every revolutionary cause. In 1851 he was a member of the hapless expedition of Lopez; esoaping the fate of his leader, he was next with Walker in his Nica raguan raid. Daring onr oxvn war he first en listed as a private in the Louisiana Tigers, xvith whom he fought at Boll Run. Soon after he became attached to Stonewall Jackson’s com mand as a scout, appearing next as a cavalry man under J. E. B. Stewart. A perfect horse man, gniding his animal by the heel, and carry ing his sabre in one hand and Ms pistol in the other, Ms fearless temperament and snperb practice gave Mm a leading position in the brig ade. Daring the Enropean war, Morean was an officer of franc-tireurs. How or in what fight he met death we are not informed. In February, 1870, he was in this city correspond ing with Cluseret and others. The following May, in a letter from Paris to an American friend, regarding a newly invented hand-gren ade, he wrote: “We are getting the mine lai* 7 that will and must end the Napoleon dyu j “ lt Y- —Army and Navy Journal. . A commander in the royal ’““R service found his steamer some tMrty rr aes of her conrse. He wa3 sorely tronM*J> And conld not account for the local that sent Mm so far ont of the way instruments and calculations ap peared •'finally faultless. Sorely troubled from Spring passed a sleepless, watchful-«ight, the. captain went on deck after breakfast. Seeing a lady sitting (as was her custom) near the binna cle, it occurred to bim that probably her scis sors were resting on it. Detecting nothing of the sort, and bent on closer investigation, he discovered that her chair had as iron frame. It also quite reasonably flashed across him that the lady’s ample crinoline was extended by steel hoops. Bo, mastering all his faculties, he exclaimed, xvith as much forgiveness and as lit tle reproach in his tones as possible, “Madam, you have by your looal attraction drawn my sMp some forty miles from her conrse.” A tende’l-hearted humanitarian at Boston, whose feelings was touohed on overhearing a prisoner at the stationhouse sing “Home, Sweet Home,” tried to have him released. His sym pathy suddenly cooled, however, when he learned that the fellow was imprisoned for beating his xvife and kicking her ont of doors. THE OLDEST SCRIPTURE. A Remarkable Papyrus Rendered Into English by Mr. Lesley. Mr. J. P. Lesley, the pMldlogist, contributes to the May number of Old and New a curious and interesting account of a papyrus wMch is supposed to be the oldest Scripture on record. Its Mstory is as follows: Its discoverer and owner was M. Prisse d’Avesnes; and it has al ways been known as the “Papyrus Prisso.” In 1847,it was published in fac simile, and bestowed in the Royal Bavarian Library at Munich. In 1857, M. Chabas, of Ohalons snr Soane, gave the first idea of its. contents to the learned world, in an article in the Revue Archologique, under the title, 11 Le plus ancien Here du monde.” Other Egyptologists have worked upon its trans lation, and explained more satisfactorily some of its words and phrases; bnt it was not until December 4, i860, that a full analysis of its grammatical structure and etymological signifi cance was made by Herr Lautb, who read a me moir on the snbjeot at a meeting of the Royal Bavarian Academy of that date; $nd this me moir has been since published in the Sitznngs- beriohte of the Academy for that year. Herr Lanth’s translation is interlinear, and consists, first, of lines or MeroglypMcs, repre senting the antiqne hieratic characters of the papyrus; secondly, of a close translation into Latin; and, thirdly, of a somewhat freer, bnt still very close, translation into German. Part of M. Chabas’s translation is given in the foot notes; by which it is easy to see how much more liberty the French Egyptologue allowed Mmself than the German mind can consent to use. :•. The English translation now given by Mr. Lesley, is but a carefully weighed rendering of the awkward sentences wMch Herr Lanth’s scientific conscience compelled him to write, xvith no attempt to effect a harmony between Mm and Ms Gallic compeer where their versions differ, and with no intention to disonss the diffi cult questions wMch arise respecting the proper rendering of certain words, mnch less those which touch upon the archaeology of the most remote age of Egyptian Mstory. The English version reads thus: CHARTER X. 1. Health be to him thnthonoreth me! Hon or be to him that goeth xvith me willingly! 2. Open lies the oasket of my speech: un covered the place of my word-building. 3. Furnished with swords to attack tho negli gent, who is never found present at Ms post. 4. When thou sittest in tho company of men, scorn thou thy favorite viands; for a short mo ment renounce them with thy heart. 5. For gluttony i3 a vice, and scandal lies hidden therein. A cup of water slakes one’s thirst; a mouthful Sehnn-strengthena the heart. C. Virtue is the end of good things, and what is of no account determine greatness. 7. Miserable is he who is servant to Ms belly, or who spends his time in senselessness. Fat ness lords it over the house of such. 8. When thou sittest wit a banqueter, who eats until Ms girdle bursts: 0. When thou drinkest xvith a wine-bibber, who receives thee, Ms heart rejoioing itself with drink more than a butcher with flesh: 10. Take thou what he handeth thee: reject it not. 11. Nevertheless, it is disgusting when one who cannot possibly make himself intelligible in any word, torments Mmself in vain to win for Mmself a favorable heart 12. He is a shame to Ms mother and to Ms friends. 18. When he knoeketh as a suitor at the door, every ono crieth ont, Make haste! depart! CHAPTER II. 1. The word ont of thy month, it instrncteth thee. 2. Let not thy heart lift itself above the ground on account of strength. 3. Be not of a stiff-necked mind. • 4. Teach thy posterity in that thou regulatest thyself. 5. Not to be comprehended is the world; God who made it has forbidden it. C. What a man bath to do is to teach Ms chil dren xvisdom, after he has finished the lot of man. 7. Their duty stands in going up the ladder which he has set for them. 8. It happens that all tMs stands xvritten in the Book of Proverbs; therefore, follow it, as I tell it, after the example of the more useful. 9. These committed it to memory. These had so read it as it was in the scripture, -10. Its excellence was in their sight greater than all things which are in the whole land, whether they be great or small. 11. So soon as his majesty Horn, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, had reached tha [heav enly] shore, 12. Then arose his majesty Snefru, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, as benevolent king of tho whole land. 13. Lo! then became Kadjimna, governor of the city and its environs. This is the end. Mr. Lesley says: Here, then, we have the author named, Kad jimna, and the age of Ms book defined; the last two reigns of the third dynasty of Manetho’s Pharaoh’s—the reigns of Huni and Snefrn, the immediate predecessors of Shnfu, or Cheops, the bnilder of the first and greatest pyramid. H6rr Lanth assigns to Kadjimna an antiquity of 5,400 years, or 2,200 years before Moses. The other question, how this precious relio was preserved, is more difficult to answer. Bnt any one who takes the trouble to follow Herr Lanth throngh a paper which he read before the Bavarian Academy, February 5, 1870, en titled “On Chufu’s Building and Bood,” xvill be astonished at the amount of collateral, classical, and monumental materials on hand for estimat ing the literary tendencies of the third, the sec ond, and even of the very first dynasty of the Egyptian kings. To this extremely curioos piece of research, the author was led by a curi ous faot. The two chapters given above 611 but the two first leaves of tho papyrus; that they were preceded by another Scripture, carefully erased, and followed by a third Scripture of a mnch later date, written by one Ptahhotep, and not yet written ont. Herr Lanth believes that the author of the erased Scripture was Chufu, and gives, at great length, Ms reasons for this opinion, proving that the bad reputation of that monarch, as an infidel, was one of those stupid mistakes wMch the Greeks are notorious for making. The fearful sufferings of the crow of the b"* Dashing\9ave, a OMna tea clipper, sMpw»®cked on a small island in the South Pacific ^oean, are narrated in the Fiji Times, of J-raary 7. The crew took to the long-boat captain Yan- dervord secured, a cb®” 1 nautical instru ments, bnt, stranu' *° *V» no compass was saved; a case colonial wine, a bag and a Rnif of br'"* a an & two backets were pat in the boat. no water, and for thirty-one days the twrfeen men were in the open boat xvithout see ing land or a ship or receiving any assistance whatever. ’ For the first five days they had not a drop of water, and the captain divided a bot tle of wine daily among the thirteen men. After wards, they had rains, and caught enough to serve ont half a pint of water to each man per diem. It was first designed to steer for the Kingsmill group, but the current was against them, and then a conrse .was steered for Ascension Island, and had any of the party been able to row, they might have reached it, bnt, weak as they were, all they could do was to keep their boat before the wind with the blanket sail. At last, after thirty days’suffering, they reached Strong’s Island, of the Caroline group, and were receiv ed by the King with the utmost hospitality. He took the Captain and Mate to live xvith Mm, and asssigned quarters to the men in the town. Af- ter thirty-eight days they were taken on by a ship which put in for provisions. Th9 town of Actworth, (N. H.) has sent to market, this season, one hundred and forty- three thousand, one hundred and sixteen Us. of maple sugar! At this rate, what must have been the quantity in the whole State? Grim Joke.—Oliver P. Morton, in the pres ence of U. S. GrAt, calling the latter “the greatest statesman seen for tMrty years.” The authority is equal to the compliment, and both were of matchless delicacy.—The Capital. CANNIBAL WARFARE. Fcaifnl Atrocities in Africa-*PrIsoners Cut up iumI Portioned Out to the Families or the Victors, Tho Bonny correspondent of tho Liverpool Courier xvrites as follows: “For sometime past the New-Calabar men have been secretly pre paring their forces for a raid into the Ekreeka country—partly as a demonstration of their strength, and partly to see whether the Bonny men would stand forward as the protectors of tho Ekreekas, which they are bound to do by treaty. Accordingly, about a week ago the most powerful expedition that ever left New-Calabar for Ekreeka set ont under commandof King Ama- chree. Tho expedition consisted of about fifty large xrar canoes, manned by over 2,000 men. They cautiously approaohed the capital of the Ekreeka country, taking three days in the move ment. On the night of the tMrd day they lay in wait near the ‘city,’ hid by the thick bushes that lined the creek that leads to the residence of King Phibia. About midnight some Ekreeka oil and fisMng canoes—about nine in number-— came by, manned byboth.menand women. The war canoes charged ont of their respective hiding places; a few minutes of confusion, cries of triumph and shrieks of dismay, Bud ml was over. The canoes weie captured, and xvith them abont twenty-five men and three casks of palm- oil; but the women, with praiseworthy activity, jumped into the creek and swam ashore, and, in spite of all the efforts of the Calabar men, they escaped through the bush to the town and gave the alarm, the Calabar men, in their oxvn expressive way, remarking, ‘Them women he be deviknan for ran’—:, e., very swift of foot. At daylight an advance was made on the town, bnt the Ekreekas wero too strongly posted be hind stockades to warrant the Calabar men oarrying the place by storm. They, therefore, opened fire on the position xvith canoe guns, and bombarded it for some honrs. The slaugh ter in the crowded town must have been very great, as every shot told; and as tho Calabar men’s guns were of heavier calibre than those of tho Ekreekas, their fire was most effective at a range that was qnite out of the power of tho Ekreeka guns. The Calabar men, being satisfied with the damage they had done to the Ekreekas, drew off their canoes and returned to New-Calabar Town. Then commenced the horrible orgies that are tbo usual seqnal to all battles in this country. Sixteen of tli9 prisoners wero at once slaughtered and portioned out, like so much beef or mutton, to the principal families in the town, for the purpose of being cooked and eaten. One scene will suffice to give an idea of the horrible practices. Abont 10 A. m. one of the unfortunate captiveB was bound hand and foot in the centre of the court yard of one of tho most wealthy and enlighten ed of the cMefs. The prisoner, haggard and worn, was surrounded by the xvives, children, head men, and slaves of the chief. The cMef Mmself stood in front cooly instructing his youngest and favorite son, a good-looking boy of abont six years old, hoxv to execute the prisoner with a sharp knife. After a few min utes the young savage seized the prisoner by his wool, pulled Ms head forward, and struck him on the back of the neck, causing blood to spurt forth. The yells of the men and women were deafening. The miserable prisoner was struck to the ground, and ent np in pieces with large knives. The youngster who commenced the slaughter waved Ms hand, reeking xvith blood, onMgh, and gave a shout of trinmph. In ten minntes after the head and hands of the late prisoner were in an iron pot boiling in lha chief’s house for Ms breakfast, carefully tended by one of his wives, and the young excutioneer • greedily awaiting the repast he would share with Ms father. Six of the canoes taken were destroyed before leaving tha Ekreeka coni try, and, to the astonishment of the King of Calabar, eight of the prisoners taken denied that they were Ekreeka men, and asserted that they were Bonny men. They were accordingly placed in safe keeping till the Bonny King conld be com municated with, wMch was at once done throngh the Chairman of the Court of Equity, New Calabar. It has since transpired that the Bonny people claim these men, also two canoes and three casks of palm-oil.” A Funning Jn«Ige. The “ Monthly Gossip” in the May number of Lippincott’s Magazine, has the folloxving ac count of the facetious sayings of Judge Richard Peters, of Philadelphia: It was as a punster that Peters was most xvidoly known, great as was Ms reputation in more important respects. Men love to laugh, and he who induces them to do so’is mnch surer of a kindly place in their recollections than an; mover of their other emotions. There can be no doubt that the sign wMch Peters hung from Ms office window on beginning his professional career, “Richard Peters, Attorney-at-law. Busi ness done here ot half-price: N. B. Half done” —a capital sign, by the way, for all half-prioe places—had the effect of tickling more fees ont of passing pockets than conldhave been secured by more serious means. Peters was colleagued on the Bench xvith Jus tice 'Washington, of the Supreme Court, a quiet, severe man, of whom he used to say that brother Washington was the strict judge, while he was the district judge. Justice Washington was la the habit of delivering the opinions of the court, and was, moreover, noted for a very, vigorous appetite—two facts which caused Ms associate to call him the mouthpiece of the court. A superlative spinner of naval yarns, on re- turning from a cruise, assured a festive assem blage, of whom the Judge was one, that he had encountered a soap island, wMch he elaborately described. When he had finished, the Jadge blandly requested to be informed if the making of that island didn’t require a d—d deal of lie. At an agricultural dinner he entertained a countryman of more candor than courtesy by telling extraordinary Btories; and when he paused, the man shouted, “Tell us some more of your ’taroal lies.” A neighbor who kept a noisy pack of honnds once complained of suffering from ague. “Bless my soul 1” he exclaimed, “can’t you cure it with all that bark?” At the trial of somo pirates in South Carolina, the District Judge acquitted them for want ot a comma in the raw: “So, for want of a comma, the doins 1 ® of the rascals xvill never be brought to 0 /all stop.” One of the members of the State Legislature, when the judge was Speaker- thereof, in cross ing the hall tripped and fell, on which, of conrse, the legislators burst into a laugh. “Or der, order, gentlemen; don’t yon see that a membetison the floor?” was a rebuke which did not restore them to gravity. Once, when the judge xvaa standing near La Fayette, a young military officer, in addressing the latter, ex claimed, “Sir, although we were not bom to partake of your revolutionary hardships, yet should onr country be attacked we will not fail to tread in the shoes of our forefathers.” “No, no,-” interrupted the judge; “that yon can’t do, for they fought barefooted.” “Why don’t yon buy tanfl in North Carolina ?” tasked a friend of the judge. “I’d rather buy it in the moots,” was the reply, “for then I might sometimes see my purchase”—a reply not altogether in har mony xvith Macaulay’s dictum, that an acre in Middlesex is worth a principality in Utopia. Grant’s Veracity. — In his Indianapolis speech General Grant said that he had no inten tion of coming to Indianapolis until he met Senator Morton at Pittsburg, by whose soft per suasions he was induced to mAke the- Indiana visit. It is a well-known fact in railroad circles that two of Pulman’s fine sleeping ooachesxfere despatched from Harrisburg to Baltimore the Saturday previous, there to await the Presiden tial party. One of them, known as President Tom Scott’s car, was assigned for Senator Mor ton, and the other (the Jewett oar) was placed at the disposal of President ’Grant These two cars, containing the royal and Santo Domingo party, left Baltimore on Thxirsday night at ten o'clock, and in due time arrived at Pittsburg _ jointly. It xvaa here that Grant saya he first met Morton, having <raveled’ with him from Washington in the Polman cars, and there it. was from the time they started at Washington that tho Indiana visit was “oooked, up, -^Cin cinnati Enquirer.- '• 1 ■ . ; . .a, ' XT. ■ ■ -v- Vgggi Mi ~ii - - V - — - ■■ - S. jfc. - - \ - *■<.• ' -a aw. «...