Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

J ;i%v -t 8 YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT. The Bee’s Sermon. Good morning. d«ar friends, I’in a clever young bee, And a sermon I’ll preach, if you 11 listen to mo, It will not be long, and it will no * ( t r y» And your own common sense my remarks may apply Not slothful in business must be the first head. For with vigor we work till the sun goes to bed; And unless one is willing to put forth one’s powers, There is no getting on in a world such as ours. Wo are fond of our dwellings; no gossips are we, No gadders about idle neighbors to see; And though we are forced for our honey to roam. We come back as soon as we can to our home. “The way to be happy, and healthy, and wise, Is early to rest and early to rise.” This proverb has moulded our conduct for years, And we never sleep when the daylight appears. If you were to peep in our hives, you would own That as models of cleanliness they might be shown; All dust and all dirt, without auv delay, Is swept from our door and transported away. Ventilation most thorough our domicile share. Ho one need teach us the worth of fresh nil-; For we could not live, as we’ve heard peoplp do, In close rooms whero no health-giving breeze can pass through. When one of our number is sick or distressed, He is sure of kind treatment from each of the rest; Wo sympathize warmly with those who’re in grief, And aro eager to proffer immediate relief. And lastly—for here my remarks ought to cease— The bees, as a nation, are bent upon peace; You are ready to question this statement, I know, And to ask why we carry- our stings where we go. We carry our stings, not on any pretence For aggressive attack, but in pure self-defence; We meddle with no one. and only repel Assailants who will not in peace with us dwell. Now my sermon is ended, and you, if you please, Some hints may derive from us hard-working bees: May your life be as useful, your labors as sweet, And may you have plenty of honey to eat, ENIGMA—No 16. I am composed of 18 letters. My 14, 9,0, 2,4, is a cape on the west coast of Ireland. Mv 15, 8, 11, 11, 0, 13, is to diminish. My 9,2, 12, 4, is the name given to the den of a wild beast. My 7, 17, 1,8, is a color for painting. My 11, 0,5, 13,8, is the name of a river in France. My 7,6, 8, is an insect. My 1, 10, 7,5, 13, is a part of a ship. My 10, 10, is an interjection. My 11, 2,9, 15, 5,8, is a girl’s name abbreviated. My 3, 5. 1,0, is an article of food. My 2, 13, is an indefinite article. My 14, 8, 18, 0, 11, is one of the ter restrial deities. My 9, 16, 13, 0, is a narrow passage. My whole is the name of one of the “ brightest stars” of the sunny South. “ Minnie.” Sharon , Ga., May 5, 1868. ENIGMA—No. 17. I am composed of 28 letters : My 9,13, 17, 21, 24, 2, was the name of an Italian painter. My 22, 7,5, 12, 24, 24, was the name of a Southern hero. My 15, 18, 22, 23, is the name of one of the celestial deities. My 11, 8, 19, is the name of a Chinese plant. My 7,5, 3,2, 13, is the name of a bird. My 1,9, 13, 27, 26, 21, is the name of a girl abbreviated. My 2,4, 25, 0, 21, is the name of a musical instrument, My 4,2, 10, 10, 5, is the name of an animal. Mv 20, 12, 2, 24, 21, li, is the name of a tlower. My 14, 9, G, 19,16, 22, is to fatigue. My 28, 12, 13, 17, 80, is the name of an Indian plant. Mv whole is one of the saddest lines in a most beautiful song, composed by Thomas Moore. “ Eel a.’ Sharon, Ga., May, 1808. ♦ * • Answers to Last Week's Enigmas, Etc. — Charade —Ear Ring—The bells ring and the sound steals upon the ear, while the bride wears the ear-ring, her “ good father gave. Poetical Puzzle —Tobacco. Enigma No. 14. —Robert Edmund Lee—Rent—Out—Beer —Eel—Rome— Tunnel—Elm—Dumb —More-—Urn— Nod —Drum—Lumber —Ellen —Ebb. Enigma No. 15.—Jefferson Davis— Jean—Friend-—Son—Nero—Verde — Eoree —Sosa —liaison—Fear. We have correct answers to Enigmas, as follows : M. J. H., Mebanville, N. C.; A. E. R., Savannah, Ga. ; A. M. G., Knoxville, Term.; A. P. Z., Savannah, Ga., and M. O’C.—all to Nos. 11 and 12. J. 8., Charleston, S. C., toConundrum No. 2, is nearly correct. Our young contributors, “Richard” of Selma, Ala , who seut in Enigma No. is only 13 years old; and “Mattie” of New Orleans, is but 12 years. Her father, writing to us, says: “Ihe Chil dren’s Department is a captivating one for our wee little folks, and they all join in wish ing hearty success to the Banner of the South, in which their parents cordially join.” From other quarters we receive evi dences of gratification with this Depart ment of the Banner, and shall strive to make it an interesting and instructive feature of the paper. We shall be pleased to hear from our young readers often. [Prepared for the Banner of the South by Uncle Buddy. FAMILIAR SCIENCE HEAT. There are many things which, when their chemical constitution is changed) either by the abstraction of their gases? or the combination of others not before united, evolve heat while the change is going on. 4 his is what is meant by chemical action being the source oi heat. Heat expands or enlarges the dimen sions of substances generally. This efiect could have been seen recently on the Augusta and Summerville Railroad— some portions of the track oi which was so expanded as to render the passage of the cars over it difficult. Liquids expand by heat as well as solids. The particles of which *.hey are formed are not so firmly held together by cohesion as the particles of solid bodies ; they, therefore, more readily expand by heat. Os liquids, water expands most on the application of heat. A cubic inch oi boiling water, when changed into steam, expands to nearly afoot. That is, it expands to about seventeen hundred times its origi nal bulk. The difference between gases and liquids is that the former arc very elastic while the latter are not. To illustrate the meaning of the elas ticity of gas, let us suppose Mi at from a vessel full of gas half were ' taken out, the other half would immediately spread itself out, and fill the same space as was occupied by the whole. Now, to show that a liquid is not very clastic, if from a gallon of water you take half, the remaining four pints will take up only half the room that the whole gallon previously did. A liquid, there fore, is not elastic like gas. Strictly speaking, however, a liquid is slightly elastic, inasmuch as it may he compressed, and will afterwards recover its former • dimensions. Heat expands air, also. Thus, lor ex ample, if a bladder, nearly filled with air, be tied up at the neck and laid before the fire the air will expand till the bladder bursts, because the heat of the fire will drive the particles of air apart from each other, and cause them to occupy more room than they did before. A ball of lead, as you know, if thrown into a pail of water will sink to the bottom, while a cork of the same size will swim on the surface. This is because the lead is heavier and the cork lighter than the same bulk of water. And in the same way, a ball of cork will fall through the air, while a soap bubble of the same size will ascend. This is because the cork is heavier and the soap bubble lighter than the same hulk of air. It is true that the soap bubble is filled with air, or rather the breath, which is warm-air, and, as heat expands all bodies, the air in the soap bubble is made to occupy a larger space than the same quantity of air outside of the bubble, and for this reason it is rendered lighter. If the air forced through the pipe were of the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere, the bubbles would not rise, because the air inside of the bubbles being of the temperature of the surrounding atmosphere, the air contained in them would weigh as much as the same bulk of air outside of the bubbles. Balloons ascend because they are filled with air lighter than the same hulk of i air surrounding the balloon. O MBEffi ©t Tii CATHERINE M’AULEY. The Sister Os TVlercy. BY JAMES PARTON. Catherine Elizabeth McAuley was born in 1757, near Dublin. Her father was a mau of small independent fortune and the descendant of a line of Catholic ancestors. Though he died when his daughter Catherine was only seven years of age, one custom of his made an indeli ble impression on her mind. It was his habit on Sundays and holidays to collect the poor of the neighborhood and give them instruction in the requirements of their religion. Her mother, it appears, was a woman of fashon, who was far from approving her husband’s Sunday schools. “ How is this, sir ? ” she would say, when she saw the swarm us ragged pu pils approaching. “Must my house be come a receptacle for every beggar and cripple in the country ? It is certainly very unsuitable for a gentleman in your position to continue these absurdites. I don’t know how you can employ your self with these low, ignorant creatures.” The little Catherine listened every week to these altercations, and, though fondly attached to her mother, always sided in her heart with her father. Four years after her father’s death,, when Catherine was eleven years of age, her mother also died. Her death bed, we are told, was terrible, and she died in all the agonies of remorse. The scene, we are informed, impressed the mind of the young girl all the more from the contrast it afforded to the joy and tranquility ol her father’s death, and it was one of the most powerful incentives to her future life of piety, and benevolence. The death of her mother left her a poor or phan; for the estate which her father left had been mismanaged, and lost through her mother’s inexperience and profusion. She was taken home by a relative, who afterward became so poor, that she suffer ed from want of food. At sixteen she was one of the most beautiful girls in Ireland. She was beau tiful at all periods of her life. Her form was erect and symmetrical, and her noble countenance beamed with intelligence and benevolence. Her portrait, taken in life, shows her to have been a most comely, and grand-looking woman ; and l can well believe that, in her youth, she must have been splendidly beautiful. Her hand was sought in marriage by many admirers, but neither then or at any fu ture time did she show any inclination to matrimony. When she was living in these narrow circumstances at the house of her relative who was a surgeon, there came to live in the village a gentleman, with his wife, who had made a large fortune in the East Indies. They bought a handsome house near by. and soon became acquaint ed with the family with whom Catherine lived. In the course of a few months they became so attached to this interest ing girl, that their chief happiness seemed to be in her society, and they finally off ered to adopt her as their daughter and heiress. The offer was accepted, and she was soon established as an inmate in a sumtuous and elegant abode. As she grew in years her attention was drawn more and more to the deplorable condi tion of the poor. Ireland swarms with the poor ; and the wonder is, not that Catherine McAuley should have devoted her life to their relief, hut that any wealthy person in the country should sit down to enjoy life amid such scenes, con tent to witness misery without making an effort to relieve it. Visiting one of the parish schools of Dublin, she noticed with pain many of the pupils insufficiently clad. Instead of giv ing them clothes, which she might easily have done, she rendered them a better service by going to the school, and teach ing the girls to sew. Many of them were soon able, not only to make and mend their own clothing, hut to do plain and fancy knitting, the sale of which was a benefit to their parents. She establish ed, also, a repository in one of the school rooms for the sale of the articles made by the girls, and induced her friends to come and purchase them. When she had es tablished this system in one school and saw all its pupils well clad, she introduc ed it into others, and was thus a great benefactor to the poor of Dublin. Her attention was also powerfully called to the ease of poor girls who need protection against the danger to which poverty and beauty expose them; and she long cherished the pro ject of estab lishing a home for such—a kind of be* nevoleut intelligence office, in which they could be sheltered until respectable em ployment could be obtained for them. Her adopted father asked her one day what she intended to do after his death? “ I think,” said she, “ I shall take a small house, and support a few poor wo men, whom I could instruct, and teach to work." “ How much do you think,” he asked, “ would support such an establishment ? ’ “I think,” she replied, after a little re flection, “the interest of a thousand pounds would be quite sufficient. “Catherine,” said be, “ your desires are very moderate ; but if you ever possess wealth you will do good with it.” Not long after this conversation her adopted parents died, and she found her self the sole heiress of their wealth. It consisted of an annuity of six hundred pounds a year, thirty thousand pounds in money, the mansion in which she lived, several policies of life insurance, and a considerable quantity of jewels and plate —a fortune equivalent to more than half a million dollars of our present currency. She was then thirty five years of age. The sudden acquisition of wealth is one of the severest trials to which poor human virtue can be subjected. Cathe rine McAuley bore this trial nobly. She dressed more plainly than before, and was more assiduous than ever in her la bors for tiie relief and instruction of the poor around her. Unsatisfied with these comparatively desultory efforts, she now T determined to carry out her early dream of founding an institution in which poor children could he taught to read and sew, and in which servants of good character might, when out of employment, find a temporary home. Aided by the advice of an excellent priest, she purchased the necessary ground for £5,000 sterling, and employed an architect to construct the edifice. She told the architect that she wanted three or four large rooms for poor schools ; four large sleeping rooms for poor young women ; one large and lofty apartment for a chapel; and a few small rooms for any ladies who might wish to aid her in taking care of the poor. In due time the building was finished. She sold her handsome abode, dismissed her carriage and servants, and went to reside in the institution she had founded. The first inmate painfully illustrated the need of such an institution. Visiting the sick one day in a po;>r lane, she saw a little ragged child crying bitterly. Her parents, she learned upon inquiry, had just died in a cellar, and the land lord had thrust the child into the streets to make way for some new comers to whom he had rented it. Miss McAuley took the child in her arms, in all its rags and filth, and carried it home. It had never been her intention to found a convent, still less anew Order of Religious Sisters. The institution seemed, however, to take that form by a kind of nececity, The ladies who came to assist her in teaching the children and. in caring for her poor women, fell in to the habit, first of taking a plain meal in the institution as a matter of conveni ence. Some of them necessarily slept there ; and as they wore all devoted Catholics, their life within the institution gradually arranged itself after the manner of convents. In a short time, through the agency of her Archbishop, the Pope gave the institution his special attention, and established anew order of nuns called the Sisters of Mercy. The ladies assumed nun-like dress, made the usual vows of chastity and poverty, and gave themselves up lor life, to the holy work of solacing the miserable, and in structing the ignorant. Various circumstances contributed to give immediate celebrity and success to her institution. The spectacle of a lady of rank, wealth and beauty, renouncing the pleasures of the world, and dedica ting her existence to the poor and miser able, is one which always captivates the immagination. Daniel O’Connell, too who was in the zenith of his renown, be came acquainted with the new Order, and • pronounced some fine eulogiums upon it 1 in his public addresses. When the Order was but five years old, the first cholera broke out in Ireland. Never has there been a more terrible scourge. For a considerable time, the deaths in Dublin averaged six* hundred a day, and the whole city was in consternation. Such was the terror of the people at the awful mortality in the hospital, that they con ceived the impression that the doctors were murdering the people, and large numbers refused to allow their sick to be treated by them. Then it was that the Sisters of Mercy exhibited the most sublime and heroic I benevolence. They did not visit the j hospitals: they lived in them ! Some of them remained in the hospitals for. months at a time, and they never dis- ! continued their exertions as long as! there was a patient to he benefit.! and by them. It is a remarkable fact that not one of the Sisters of Mercy took the dis ease, although when, some years alter, Ireland was desolated by famine and fever, many of them perished. Catherine McAuley lived fifty-four years. Toward the end of her long sick ness, her joy, it is said, became rapture ; and when one of her friends asked her if she felt any of that fear of death which she had once experienced, she said : “Isl had thought death could be so sweet, T never should have feared :t > Some of the religious practices and be liefs of this remarkable woman were : such as Protestants cannot approve. For example, she was in the habit, toward the close of her life, of whipping herself as a mortification for her sins. On the day before she died, she gave her whip to one of her sisters, while it was still wet with her blood, and ordered her to put it in the fire, and see that it was burned. On the same day, she gave to another sister a parcel carefully tied up, which contained her shoes, which she had also ! converted into means of torture. Her amiable and gifted biographer tells us, that when life was extinct, her shoulders were found to be scarred, and her feet lacerated. These things are all foreign to our conceptions of what is right and proper; nevertheless, she thought other wise ; and it is-the fundamental principle of Protestanism to leave every one free to work out his soul’s purification in the way he finds most suitable. Her mortifications of this kind were a secret known to herself, and she always discouraged penances, which lowered the tone of the bodily health, and incapaei ated the sisters for endurance. During the hours of recreation, she was one of the merriest of the merry—she w uld sing a lively song, tell a funny story, and relate her early experiences in the world to the delight of all who heard her and she would write merry letters, in rhyme, to the Sisters in other convents. PRESIDENTS, VICE-PRESIDENTS, &C. The following list of Presidents, vice Presidents, and candidates for these offices since the formation of our government, is worth preserving. 1789. George Washington and John Adams, two terms, no opposition. 1797. John Adams, opposed by Thomas Jefferson, wiio, having the nos: highest electoral vote, became Wee- President 1801. Thos. Jefferson and Aaron Burr; beating John Adams and Chas. C. Pinckney. 1805. Thos. Jefferson and Georc ■ Clinton ; heating Chits. C. Pinckney am 1 Rufus King. 1809. James Madison and George Clinton ; heating (bias. C. Pinckney. 1813. James Madison and El bridge Gerry; beating DeWitt Clinton 1817. James Monroe and Daniel D. Tompkins; beating Rufus King. 1821. James Monroe and Daniel D. Tompkins; beating John Quincey Adams 1825. John Quincey Adams and John C. Calhoun; beating Andrew Jackson, Henry Clay, and Win. 11. Crawford, there being four candidates for President, and Albert Gallatin for Vice-President. 1829. Andrew Jackson and John C. Calhoun ; heating Johu Quincy Adams and Richard Rush. 1833. Andrew Jackson and Marti | Van Buren ; beating Henry Clay, John Floyd, and William Wirt, for President and Wm. Wilkins, John Sergent, and Henry Lee, for Vice-President. 1837. Martin A r an Buren and Richard M. Johnson ; beating Wm. IT. Harrison, | Hugh L. White, and Daniel Webster, for President, and John Tyler, for Vice President. 1841. William H. Harrison and John Tyler; heating Martin Van Buren and Littleton W. Tazewell. [Harrison died one month after his inauguration, and John Tyler became President for the rest of the term. ] 1845. James K. Polk and George M Dallas; beating Henry Clay and Thro. Frelinghuysen. 1848. Zachary Taylor and Milliard Fillmore ; heating Lewis Cass and Marti: Van Buren, for President, and, Wm. O. Butler and Charles F. Adams, for Vice President. [Taylor died July 9, 1855 and Filmore became President ] 1853. Franklin Pierce and W. K King; beating Winfield Scott and 31. A. Graham. 1857. James Buchanan and John C. Breckenridge ; beating John C. Freni; i: and Milliard Filmore, for President, and Wm. A. Dayton, and A. J. Donelson, for Vice-President. 1861. Abraham Lincoln and Han bal Hamlin ; heating John Bell, Steph A. Douglas, and John C. Breckenridge. for President, and Edward Everett, ller schcll V. Johnson, and Joseph Lane f>r Vice-President. 1805. Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Johnson; beating Geo. B. McClellan and Pendleton. [Lincoln assassinated, April 14, 1805, and Johnson assumed the Presidency, j “Why don’t you get married ?” said a young lady the other day to a bachelor friend “l have been trying for the last ten years to find someone who would he silly enough to have me,” was the “I guess you haven’t been up our way, she smilingly said.