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■’ LITERARY
PEBTFIELD, GEORGIA.
L. LINCOLN YEAZEY, Editor.
/—. y .
THURSDAY MORNING, JUNE 17,1858.
Wb are now having a stiff, cool wind from the
north-east. For several mornings past it has been
quitg unpleasant, feeling much more like Novem
ber than June.
It is stated that that the Duke of Oporto, broth
er of the King of Portugal, is to marry the daugh
ter of the Emperor of. Brazil. As the Emperor has
no male heir, the Duke would thus be eventually
called to the throne of Brazil.
A portion of the citizens of the counties of Ber
rien, Lowndes and Clinch held a meeting on the
4th inst., for the purpose of taking preliminary
steps preparatory to the formation of anew county
to be composod of portions of counties named.
Petulance h a worse vice than irascibility.
The latter is often found to exist with a good
heart and the kindliest feelings, but the former
is marked by a degree of deliberation which be
trays it to be the offspring of ill nature. It, how
ever, lias one redeeming quality: it inflicts greater
ill on its possessor than on any other.
The Ladies’ Home Magazine for July presents
itself in anew dress—so much changed, indeed,
that we scarce recognised our old acquaintance.
Edited with distinguished ability, by T. S. Arthur
and Miss V. F. Townsend, it takes rank with the
very best periodicals in the country. Terms: 1
copy, $2.00; 4 copies, $5.00.
Indifference to public opinion is always as
sumed. There is no one who does not desire the
respect and esteem of his associates, and to whom
evidences of such favor are not agreeable. A
man may bear up against hatred and prejudice,
and strive to live them down; but they sting most
when he most strives to conceal the wounds they
inflict. A man cannot be insensible of the esti
mation in which he is held, and if he could, he
would be unworthy of public confidence.
Some entertain the notion that no sympathy is ,
valuable save that which displays itself in a sub
stantial manner. The idea is an erroneous one.
It is sweet to know that other eyes than our own
moisten at the contemplation of our sorrows, even
though in the pride of our hearts we might spurn
the assistance which that pity would offer. There
is a soft, still influence in sympathy which can
subdue the most obdurate nature, and lift up the
most drooping heart. Elevated to the rank of
Christian virtue, it shines brightly in the galaxy
of faith, hope and love.
We welcome with much pleasure to our book
table the Aurora, a beautiful monthly, designed
especially for the Ladies of the South—mothers
and daughters. It is edited by Mrs. E. M. Eaton,
wife of President Eaton of Union University,
Tenn. Mrs. Eaton is a vigorous writer, eminently
characterized by good taste and sound sense, and }
she has secured a brilliant corps of contributors
for her columns. Published by T. M. Hughes, *
Murfreesboro, Tenn. at $2.00 a-year; 5 copies, $8.00;
10 copies, §15.00.
1
The July number of Peterson’s Magazine has been j
received. Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, we see, begins
a thrilling Original Novelette, entitled “King 1
Philip’s Daughter.” Hereafter, Mrs. S. will write *
exclusively for Peterson’s Magazine, her own having
been merged into it, and her fine corps of con
tributors transferred to it also. This makes ‘
Peterson unapproachable in literary meri t. A ‘
new volume begins with the July number. Now
is the time to subscribe. Terms, $2.00 per an- 1
num; or, eight copies for SIO.OO. Address Cha’s
J. Peterson, 30G Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. i
A specimen may be seen at this office. 1
]
1
Gov. Brown has appointed the following gen- (
tlemen to constitute the “ Board of Visitors” to ,
attend the examination of the classes in the Uni- (
versity of Georgia, commencing Tuesday, the 22d (
inst: I
Hiram Warner, of Meriwether; Eugenras A. ,
Nisbet, of Bibb ; John Billups, of Clark; T. R. R. j
Cobb, of Clark ; Thomas W. Thomas, of Illbert;
Linton Stephens, of Hancock; Charles W. Chap- ,
man, of Muscogee; Peyton H. Colquitt, of Musco- (
gee; Solomon Cohen, of Chatham; Julian. liar- ]
tridge, of Chatham; Charles C. Jones, Jr.oif Chat- ]
ham; John D. Collins, of Cass; Rev. J. E. Ryer- .
son, of Richmond; F. C. Shropshire, of Floyd; (
•and Benj. C. Yancy, of Fulton.
The Ciceronian Society of our university cel- 1
ebrated its anniversary on Friday last, Mr. J. W. ‘
Ellington being the Orator of the day, Mr. John i
Collier Standard Bearer, and Rev. M. N. McCall 1
Chaplain. The speech was a good one-—well
written and tolerably well delivered; tb ough,
owing to the fact that the subject was rattier in
appropriate, it did not receive that amount of
applause which its excellence in other respects
merited. It was, however, well received, as it
deserved to be, and reflected much credit both
upon the speaker and the society of whicl i he is
a valued member. All present felt theiriselves
indebted to the gentlemen of the Amateur Band,
whose strains contributed largely to give interest
and animation to the exercises.
At night an address was delivered before the
Erosophic Society, by Mr. D. N. Sanders. It was
well composed, but the speaker was unfortunate
in not having committed it thoroughly, and con
sequently, it did not pass off as well as it would
otherwise have done.
j
rpHE world is the school in which all true wis- i
X dom must be learned at last. The boy may i
learn to spell, to read and write, and get glibly •
on his tongue’s end the names of many countries
the events of history and the technicalities of
science. The man may, in his study, acquire
theoretically an intimate acquaintance with every
branch of human learning; yet, he will find, on
entering the stirring scenes of real life, that he
knows comparatively nothing. The professions
and conduct of men will soon destroy the elegant
metaphysical theories which he had wrought out
in seclusion. They frequently violate abstract
principles, the truth of which they acknowledge,
without being dishonest in intenion or reprehensi?
ble in practice. He who would fight suce essfully
.the contest of life with the world, must sliape his
(conduct by its code of morals, and not by some
Immaculate paragon which his imagination has
conceived. It is not highnot as free from the
corrupting dross of earthiness as the dreaming
visionary would frame; perhaps not as pure and
elevated as that which the Bible inculcates; too
often modified by circumstances, and sometimes
swayed by the bias of interest; yet, it is the code
which that worldly wisdom, which experience
teaches, enjoins us to adopt. He who chooses a
nobler rule of faith and practice, may receive the
approving smiles of Heaven, but his schemes for
this life will be failures. Success in the world
implies much less of the saint than of the sinnfcr.
THE CAPABILITIES AND DISABILITIES
OF WOMEN has been a theme much dis
cussed for several years past, both, in this country
and in Europe. So much has been written and
spoken concerning it, that almost every one has
come to a definite conclusion on the one side or
the other. Some admitting the moral and intel
lectual equality of woman, contend for her ad
mission to all vocations, and to all the political
rights and social privileges enjoyed by the other
sex. Such is the ground taken by those who are
attempting the quixotic scheme of revolutioni
zing society in their zealous advocacy of woman's
rights. This is a proposition too ultra for our en
dorsement ; yet, we do contend that the limits of
her action have been too much circumscribed,
and that the sphere of her labors could be ex
tended without a compromise either of modesty
or dignity.
* The number of vocations which women in this
country are expected or allowed to pursue inde
pendently, is very small. That excess of refine
ment which is continually tending to render all
kinds of manual labor disgraceful to a man,
makes it unbecoming for a woman to be useful in
any manner. This retrograde progress has con
verted those of the higher classes into parlor or
naments, very costly and very useless, while those
of humbler rank imitate their worthlessness, as
far as circumstances will permit. Society has de
termined that woman shall not be independent,
and has accordingly adopted for her an educa
tional regimen which will preclude the possibility
of her ever being so. Only in very rare instances
is she properly qualified for the very few callings
by which she is allowed to earn her bread. She
is brought up in profound ignorance of those sim
ple details of business with which every lad of
fifteen is supposed to be acquainted. Whenever
misfortune imposes upon her the necessity of
managing property or providing for a family—
which may be the case any time—she is constantly
liable to be the victim of fraud and imposition.
Is it strange that, under these circumstances,
marriage is considered an event in her destiny
which must transpire? She is taught to look for
ward to it from the day she leaves the nursery
—not as a matter of preference, but of absolute
necessity. Dependence is her lot, and she must
find someone on whom to depend. Educated
as she is, this becomes equally a necessity under
any circumstances. If blessed with a competence
that frees her from the unpleasant visitings of
want, she requires a guardian, trustee or husband
to see that it is rightly invested and properly
managed; if poor, she must marry for a living.
But this, as it does not rest entirely on her op
tion, she may not be able to do. The unfortunate
child of poverty is seldom crowded with suitors
for her hand, and if she is at length solicited to
place herself in the power of some man, be he
good or bad, with the privilege of laboring under
his protective care, she may deem herself happy.
Should no such hap befall her, she must sew,
teach school, write novels or—perish.
That woman’s chances for happiness lie between
alternatives, so few of which are desirable, is
surely an evil which all must regret. But how is
it to be remedied? First, we say give her a more
thorough and practical education, and then widen
the range in which her talents may be exerted.
Some entertain the notion that woman does not
possess an order of mind that will enable her to
understand business and attend to her affairs
personally, and that to acquire such knowledge is
impossible. This is an assumption not only bold
and ungenerous, but totally unsustained by facts.
Whenever the means of so qualifying her have been ,
employed, she has exhibited neither inaptitude
to comprehend or want of energy to act. Some
of the ablest sovereigns that have ever sat on the ,
thrones of Europe have been females; not those
alone who were limited by the prescribed laws of
a constitution, and guided by the counsels of .
statesmen, but those also who were intrusted with
absolute power. They were, however, brought
up with the expectation of their high destiny,
and prepared by educational training to discharge
the duties and meet the responsibilities of their :
exalted stations.
As females are now educated, a portion of their
lives must be spent in uncertainty, and perhaps
much of it in unhappiness. All are expected to
many; consequently, all the instructions which
they receive to fit them for future life at all, is
designed solely to make them good wives. But
suppose that a long interval occurs between the
exit from the schoolroom aaid the marriage altar,
or that they never marry. In what way is this
to be passed? There are many whom fortune has
raised above drudgery for daily bread, who yet
feel the need of something more than that com
pound of deception ana frivolity yclept society,
to save them from the tedium of idleness and the
dulness of ennui. Some, affrighted by the drea
riness of such a prospect, accept the first proposal
received, and thus, often exchange a lot of nega
tive, for one of postitive, misery. Others be
come worshippers at the shrine of Fashion, dance
giddily in all her gay rounds of pleasures, with
out giving one hour to sober reflections until fa
ded beauty and broken constitutions compel
them to abandon such a course. Without any
sources of enjoyment within themselves, they
spend the remainder of their lives in fruitless re
pinings over wasted hopes and neglected oppor
tunities. Some adopt amateur authorship, as
they would poetically express it, “to drive dull
care away,” and victimize publishers and all who
condescend to notice them by their sentimental
effusions.
With those who have no property to sustain
them, the matter is still worse. They must either
marry as they best can, remain useless depend
ents or work for their support. Should they
choose the last alternative, they are unprepared
for any vocation, and unacquainted with the de
tails of any business; and being so, they are liable
to all kinds of imposition. This ignorance is the
chief reason why women are so much more illib-.
erally paid for their labors than men. A woman
frequently has to work for a salary barely suffi
cient to keep body and soul together, while the
same amount of toiling industry in a man would
soon secure him a competence. The secret of it
all is, that all women are expected to marry, and
are raised as if such a fate awaited, beyond a con
tingency. The idea that one ot them may be a
widow with a number of helpless children under
her care, or a friendless spinster dependent on
the labor of her own hands for subsistence, never
seems to enter the brains of those who assume
the charge of preparing them while young for fu
ture life. They mold all according to one pat
tern, as if a common lot awaited all.
No one will deny that the number of vocations
now open to women bear no proportion to the
diversity of their talents, when brought into ex
ercise. A woman may possess abilities of a high
order, and be inspired with an independent spirit,
and yet, have neither talent or inclination for any
of the only three occupations which she is now
allowed to follow. But were this otherwise, we
cannot see that the evil would be much less; for,
by limiting the number of female occupations,
those have become so excessively crowded that
none can accumulate, and many cannot earn a
subsistence. Some say that this evil is not to be
predicated alone of female vocations, and point
to the thousands of men who are not able to live
by professions at which others have made im
mense fortunes. The blame ia all their own.
They might have chosen occupations for which
they were qualified, and in which they might
have succeeded. Their preference of these in!
which they could do nothing, was prompted by
pride or laziness, and they deserve all the misery
which it brings. But woman is confined within
bounds, beyond which, if she goes, she is under
the ban of society. Public opinion has placed
her on a treadmill, upon which, willing or unwil
ling, she is compelled to move, continually de
parting more widely from her true destiny, and
becoming more unworthy of the position assigned
her by the Creator.
We are not one of those who would draw wo
man to the ballot box, and stain her purity by
pollutiqns from the cess-pool of politics; but we
would have her so instructed that her informa
tion and intelligence would qualify her for the
privilege of suffrage, did she claim it as a right.
Let her be so educated that she will not be alone
able to beat ear-deafening discords on the piano,
sketch nondescript landscapes and work misera
ble figures in worsted, but also to understand the
nature and details of practical business. Then,
though she may not march with her husband,
father or brother to deposit her vote at the polls,
her influence will be felt and acknowledged there.
The stream of public opinion, now so often dark
and filthy, would be cleansed and purified by her
power; its waters would impart life to every no
ble cause, and gladden the hearts of all good
men.
i
OYE likes contraries,” poets say, and obser-
Jj vation would seem to confirm its truth.
Almost every one can recollect to have seen cou
ples, between whose natures there existed not
the slightest apparent affinity; yet, such mar
riages, despite this seeming inconsistency, are
usually most fraught with happiness, though not
always most harmonious. He who roams the
earth in pursuit of his kindred spirit, will most
likely do so in vain ; but should he be so fortu
nate, according to his own notion, as to find the
object of his search, he would probably find a
person with whom he could not experience a day
of real happiness after his honeymoon had passed.
Nevertheless, it is strange what extremes do
sometimes meet and link themselves together by
the chain matrimonial. It is a fact which has
long been noted, that very large persons of both
sexes almost invariably marry those who are
small. We not unseldom see men who are
homely almost to hideousness, joined to wives of
charming loveliness, and sometimes the reverse.
But differences in person, however great, is not
so striking as the difference of character. The
phlegmatic and the gay form a union which has
every appearance of being harmonious. Those
distinguished for profundity or brilliance of mind,
are most generally united to those not remarka
ble for either. Women who never had three
thoughts above the most prosaic matters of life,
have often won the lasting love of the rarest geni
uses, and spent years with them in blissful har
mony. Socrates, the wisest of Greek philoso
phers, was married to a shrew, and though history
tells of how mercilessly -she poured on him the
fury of her passion, we have no doubt that the
general tenor of their lives was peaceful. The
matrons of ancient days who distinguished them
selves by their noble bearing were, doubtless, in
most cases, wedded to spiritless, unknown men.
For more than a century the feebie, dissolute
princes of the Spanish Bourbon family were sub
jected to the rule of a succession of vigorous,
strong-minded women. Maria Theresa married
and fondly loved a man who ignored all public
affairs for the sake of his private pleasures, and
never, during the period of their union, attempted
an interference with her prerogatives. Dr. John
son, one of the most accomplished writers that
England ever produced, contracted a marriage
for love with a woman who was twenty years his
senioi, corpulent, vulgar and illiterate, in whom
no eye but his own could ever discover the lrast
trace of beauty. Thus we might go on and enu
merate any number of those who married hap
pily, when all the circumstances would seem to
have promised nothing but misery.
The Grand Lodge I. O. O. F. of Georgia, met
in annual communication in Macon on Wednes- 1
day last, and closed its sesion on Thursday even
ing. The following are the officers elect for the ,
ensuing year:
P. G., J. T. Deitz, M. W. G. M.
“ “ W. O’Bryan, R. D. G. M.
“ H. H. Took, R. W. G. W.
“ “ Geo. R. Barker, It. W. G. Secretary.
“ “ E. C. Grannis, R, W. G. Treasurer.
“ “ Geo. W. Adams, R. W. G. Representa
tive to the Grand Lodge of the United States.
<■! —
A occurred near the Augusta Cotton
Factory on Saturday night, in which a man by
the name of Wilson Rollins was shot by John
Johnson. Mr. Rollins, on yesterday afternoon,
was not expected to survive.
Want of Confidence
A little Frenchman loaned a Merchant of my
acquaintance ten thousand dollars when the
times were prosperous. One day, during a jfor
mer “ panic,” he called at the counting-house, in
a state of agitation not easily described.
“ How do you do?” inquired the merchant.
“ Sick—ver sick,” replied monsieur.
“ What’s the matter ?”
“ De times is de matter.”
“De times 1 what disease is that?”
“De maladio vat break .all de peoples ver
much.”
“ Ah, the times, eh? Well, they are bad ; but
how do they affect you ?”
“ Vy, monsieur, I lose de confidence.”
“ In whom ?”
“ In everybody.”
“ Not in me, I hope ?”
“ Pardonnez moi, monsieur ; but I do not know
whom to trust and present, when all de marchants
break several times to pieces.”.
“ Then I presume you want your money ?”
“ Gui, monsieur, I starve for want of de l'argent f
“ Can’t you do without it?”
“No, monsieur, I must have him.”
“You must?”
“ Old, monsieur ,” said little dimity breeches,
turning pale with apprehension for the safety of
his money.
“ And you can’t do without it?”
“ No, monsieur, not von oder leetle moment
longare.”
The merchant reached his bank-book—drew a
check on the good old Chemical for the amount,
and handed it to his visitor.
“ Yat is dis, monsieur ?”
“ A check for ten thousand dollars, with the
interest.”
“Is it bon?” said the Frenchman, with amaze
ment..
“Certainly.”
“ Have you de Vargent in de bank ?”
“ Yes.”
“ And is it parfailement convenient to pay de
sum ?”
Undoubtedly. What astonishes you ?”
“ Vy, dat you have got him in dees times.”
“ Oh, yes, and I have plenty more.” (Apd
here the merchant showed his bank account.)
“ I owe nothing, you perceive, that I cannot pay
at a moment’s notice.”
The Frenchman was perplexed. . ,
“ Monsieur, you shall do mo von leetle favor,
eh?”
“ With all my heart.”
Veil, monsieur, you shall keep de Vargent for
me some leetle year longare.”
“ Why, I thought you wanted it.”
“ Ibid au cantraire. Ido pot vant de l f argent —
I vant the grand confidence. Suppose you no
got de money, den I vant him ver much; suppose
you got him, den Ino want him at all. Vouscom
prenez, eh?”
After some further conference, the little French
man prevailed upon the merchant to reijain the
money, and left the counting-house with a light
heart, and a countenance very different from the
one he wore when he entered. His confidence
was restored, and, although he did not stand in
need of the money, he wished to know that it
was in safe hands. ,
This little sketch is not without a moral, which
the reader will, no doubt, discover when &e thinks
1 the matter over.
The mission to Belgium has been conferred on
General E. Y. Fair, of Montgomery, Ala. f „
Squibbs wants to know if doctors, by looking at
the tongue of a wagon, can tell what ails it?
ASyoung poet out West, in describing heaven,
says, “itis a world of bliss fenced in with girls.”
Hon. Rufus Choate has been selected as the
Democratic candidate for Governor of Massachu
setts.
Whatever is done skillfully appears to he done
with ease: and art, when it is once matured,
Vanishes from observation. .
A late religious paper stigmatizes the authors
of yellow covered novels as literary scorpions, who
sting virtue to death with their tales.
All who have meditated on the art of govern
ing mankind, have been convinced that the fate
of empires depends on the education of youth.
Although the term guinea is still in familiar
use in England, the actual c6in is seldom seen,
and is so much worn that it can only be taken
by weight.
A firm in Havana have obtained permission to
lay down a submarine telegraph from Cuba to
Key West, : Florida. The*work will be sptedly
proceeded with.
Mrs. Fanny Kemble, Mrs. Jenny Lind Gold
schmidt, Mrs. Ellen Tree Kean, and Mrs. Julia
Dean Hayne, are all regular communicants of the
Episcopal Church.
The Prince of Wales has transmitted to the
Rev. Francis Le Ilunte the sum of fifty pounds,
as his subscription towards the erection of anew
church at Killarney, Ireland.
A culprit, being asked what he bad to say why
sentence of death should not be recorded against
him, replied that he “ had nothing to say, as too
much had been said already.”
“ Whiskeretfcs” is the name given to “ beaux
catchers” worn by girls this spring for lack.of
whiskers, moustaches, or goatees. They are made
.by drawing down little tufts of hair from the tem
ples, forming them into scollops.— Exchange.
Spurgeon sometimes comes out with a good
thing. “Brethren,” said he, “if God had re
ferred the Ark to a committee on naval affairs, it’s
my opinion it wouldn’t have been built yet.”
If the line which separates vice from virtue were
distinctly and legibly drawn, the mark would
not last long ; for so many would be crowding
upon it that it would very soon be obliterated.
The Baptist Examiner says that sixty per cent of
the money raised for religious and charitable pur
poses, is used up in “ office expenses” and in pay
ing the salaries of those who collect the money.
A man named Dallas, over sixty years of age,
has been convicted, at Norfolk, of having illegal
possession of a slave belonging to the Rev. Wm.
Reed, and sentenced to the penitentiary for three
years.
Recovered.- —Mr. R. Moore has recovered $5,000
damages from the corporation of Petersburg, Va.,
for bodily injuries sustained by stepping into a
hole which had been left around one of the city
lamp poSts.
It is stated that John P. Stockton, of New Jer
sey, has been appointed minister to Switzerland ;
J. P. O’Sullivan, of California, consul at Singa
pore, and J. H. Heine, of Georgia, consul at
Turk’s Island.
The conference of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, recently held in Monrovia, resolved to
establish a paper in Liberia for the benefit of their
church and the country ; it is to be called the Li
beria Christian Advocate.
•
A recapitulation of the damage done by the re
cent hail storm in the vicinity of Fredericksburg,
Va., estimates the loss to be $150,000. Over 500,-
000 bushels of wheat were destroyed within a
length of ten and a breadth of three miles.
John Heart, for eleven years one of the editors
and proprietors of the Charleston Mercury, has re
tired from that paper, having sold his interest to
his late associate, ,R. Barnwell Rhett, Esq., by
whom the Mercury hereafter will be conducted.
We may seek costly furniture for our homes,
fanciful ornaments for our mantel-pieces, and rich
carpels for our floors; but, after the absolute nec
essaries for a home, books are at once the cheap
est, and certainly the most useful and abiding
embellishments.
“ You’ll have to bear the responsibility,” said
a mother to a bright eyed young daughter of our
acquaintance who thought of marrying without
the maternal approbation. “I expect to bear
several, ma,” said Fanny. This is one of Prenti
ce’s responsibilities.
A Washington correspondent says that Senator
Houston, upon whom devolved the duty of pro
nouncing a eulogy on his deceased colleague, and
who manifested so much of feeling on the occa
sion had not spoken to him in ten years. A bit
ter feud had existed between them for that long
period.
“ I want to see some of your gimlets,” said a
greenhorn, one day, as he entered a hardware
store. The dealer took down several parcels, nei
ther of which suited. “ Well, then, what kind
do you want? there is almost every variety.”
“ Why darn it I want them wliat bores square
holes.”
A schoolmaster, wishing his pupils to have a
clear idea of faith, illustrated it thus: “Here is
an apple, you see it, and therefore know that it is
there; but, when I place it under this tea-cup,
you have faith that it is there, though you no
longer see it.” The lads seemed to understand
perfectly ; and the next time the master asked
them “ wliat is faith ?” they answered, with one
accord, an apple under a tea-cup.”
The following advertisment appears in an Illi
nois paper, from a man in the pursuit of business
under difficulties: *
“take Notice.
“I have moved my residence, my shop is in
the fore room of the Jail, all persons wishing to
see me will please call, as my business is so, that I
can’t leave.)
“ Yours most trully, Charles R. Johnson.”
The Brain in Childhood. —lt is a fact well at
tested by experience, that the memory may oe
seriously injured by pressing upon it too hardly
and continuously in early life. A regulated ex
ercise, short of fatigue, ia improving to it, but we
we are bound to refrain from goading it by con
stant and laborious efforts in early life, and before
the instrument is strengthened to its work, or it
decays under our hands. —Sir 11. 11. Holland’s
Mental Physiology'.
Soft-soap for Trees. —ls you have a choice ap
ple-tree, give the body of it a rubbing with soft
soap this spring. It will clean it, kill the eggs of
the worms that are deposited under the bark, and
make it smooth and healthy. We take our hand
to rub it on with. If any one has a hand too del
icate for this purpose, he can use a stiff brush.
Such an application will not hurt a poor tree, but
it is better not to have any such. It costs no
more to have a good apple-tree than a poor one.
Mr. S has a smart little boy, who frequently
gets off a good thing. A few evening since, as
the okl man was preparing to ask a blessing on a
scanty meal, he was interrupted by his little son,
who, leaning reverently forward and folding his
hands, thus began:
“Four slices of bread for four of us,
We bless thee, Lord, there ain't no more of us.
As two of our .children were playing together,
little Jane got angry and pouted. Johnny said to
her, “Look out, Jane, or I’ll take a seat up there
on your lips.” “Then,” replied Jane, quite cured
of her pouts, “I'll laugh and you’ll fall off 1 .”
Australian Flowers.— Colonel Miindy tells us
that the native rose has the color but no other re
semblance to the European queen of flowers. It
is one of the few field flowers possessing any odor.
W afted on the passing gale, at commends itself
pleasantly to the senses ; but strange enough, on
closer acquaintance, there mingles with the rich
perfume an undoubted smell of lox I ascent which
however productive of rapture in “ the field,” is
hardly adapted to the boudoir. In the low lands
of the Botany scrub I noticed a crimson and
orange flower, like the fox-glove inform, very
handsome, but so hard and horny in texture,
that the blossoms actually ring with a clear me
tallic sound os the breeze shakes them. It might
be the fairies’ dinner bell, calling them to clew
and ambrosia! But, alas! there are no “ good
people” in Australia 1 no one ever beard of a
ghost, a bogie, or a fetch here.
A Night Scene.
* > .BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
Oh River, gentle River, gliding on,
In silence, underneath this starless sky!
Thine is a ministry that never rests,
Even while the living slumber. For a time,
The meddler, man, hath left the elements
In peace* the plowman breaks the clods no more ;
I he miner labors not, with steel and fire,
* °/ e yd the rock; and he that hews the stone,
And he that fells the forest* he that guides
I he loaded wain, and the poor animal
i“ a ! dra .p u. have forgotten, for a while,
i heir toils,.and share the quiet of the earth.
n, T j ol j pau l. est ROt ia thine allotted task,
Oh darling River ! through the night I hear
1 hy wavelets rippling on the pebbly beach,
I hear thy current stir the rustling sedge
I hat skirts thy bed ; thou intermittest not
I nine everlasting journey, drawing on
A silvery tram from many a mountain brook
And woodland spring The dweller by my side,
Who moored his little boat opon thy beach.
Though all the waters that upbore it then
Have slid away o’er night, shall find, at morn,
Thy channel filled with waters freshly drawn
From distant cliffs, and hollows where the rill
Comes up amid the \yater-flags. All night
Thou givest moisture to the thirsty roots
Os the lithe willow ando’erhanging plane,
And cherishest the herbage on thy bank,
.Speckled with little flowers; and sendest up,
Perpetually, the vapors from thy face
To steep the hills with dew, o. darken heaven
With marching clouds that trail the abundant showers.
On glide thy waters till at last they flow
Beneath the windows of the populous town,
And all night long give back tne gleam of lamps,
And glimmer with the truths of light that stream
Fromghalls where dancers whirl. A dimmer ray
Touches thy surface from the silent room,
In which they tend the sick, or gather round
The dying; and a slender, steady beam
Comes from the little chamber in the roof,
Where, with a feverish crimson on her cheek,
The solitary damsel, dying too,
Plies the quick needle till the stars grow pale.
There, close beside the haunts of revel, stand
The blank, unligkted windows, where the poor
In darkness and in hunger, wake till morn,
There, drowsily, on the hal£conscious ear
Os the dull watchman, pacing on the wharf,
Falls the soft ripple of thv waves that strike
On the moored bark ; but guiltier listeners
Are near, the prowlers of the night, who steal
From shadowy nook, to shadowy nook, and start
If other sounds than thine are in the air.
Oh glide away from those abodes, that bring
Pollution to thy channel and make foul
Thy once clear current. Summon thy quick waves
And dimpling eddies; linger not, but haste,
With all thy waters, haste thee to the deep,
There to be tossed by shifting winds, and rocked
By that mysterious force which lives within
The sea’s immensity, and wields the weight
Os its abysses, swaying, to and fro,
The billowy mass, until the stain at length
Shall wholly pass away, and thou regain
The crystal brightness of thy mountain springs.
Oh River, darklingßiver! what a voice
Is that thou utterest while all else is still!
The ancient voice that, centuries ago,
Sounded between thy hills while Rome was yet
A weedy solitude by Tiber’s stream !
How many, at this hour, along thy course,
Slumber to thine eternal murmurings,
That mingle with the utterance of their dreams !
At dead of night the child awakes and hears
Thy soft familiar dashings, and is soothed,
And sleeps again. An airy multitude
Os little echoes, all unheard by day,
Faintly repeat, till morning, after thee,
The story of thine endless going forth.
Yet there are those who lie beside thy bed,
For whom thou once didst rear the bowers that screen
Thy margin, and didst water the green fields,
And now there is no night so still that they
Can hearthy lapse ; there slumbers, where thy voice
Louder than ocean’s, it could never bieak.
For them the early violet no more
Opens upon thy bank, nor, for their eyes,
Glitter the crimson pictures of the clouds
Upon thy bosom when the sun goes down.
Their memories are abroad—the memories
Os those who last were gathered to the earth—
Lingering within the homes in which they eat,
Hovering about the paths in which they trod,
Haunting them like a presence. Even now
They visit many a dreamer in the forms
They walked in, ere, at last, they wore the shroud;
And eyes there are that will not close to dream,
For weeping and for thinking of the grave,
The new-made grave, and the pale one within.
These memories and these sorrows all shall fade
And pass away, and fresher memories
And newer sorrows come and dwell a while
Beside thy border, and, in turn, depart.
The Mother a Teacher.
“I have so many household cares and duties,”
says one mother, “ that I have no time to devote
to the instruction of my children, and even if I
had time, I am not qualified to teach them.”
Yes, but whether qualified or not, you are still
their teacher. Teach them you must and teach
them you will. The Sabbath School, and the
Seminary, may be valuable auxiliaries, but after
all you will be their principal educator. Ifthought
less and unguarded you may teach them lessons,
which you will afterwards have occasion to wish
were unlearned. The tone, the look, the man
ner, the general drift of conversation are all mak
ing indelible impressions, and entering into the
formation of character. If the cost of living, the
prices of articles of apparel, if expenses, and losses,
and gains, engross the conversation of the fire
sides, “ the tables of the money changers,” will
be erected in those little hearts, whose early years
should be given to “Nature’s sweet affections and
to God.” If the visitor who is welcomed with
cordial smiles and friendly greeting is spoken of
after his dej arture, in a tone of detraction,
they will learn a lesson of hypocrisy and deceit,
which many formal lectures on the importance
of truth and sincerity will not efface. If the
questions, wliat shall we eat, and what shall we
drink and wherewithal shall we be clothed, occupy
your whole attention, your children will be taught
that provision for the body is more important
than provision for the soul. If they see you more
solicitous to cultivate the acquaintance of the
wealthy and fashionable, wl;o are worldly and ir
religious, than of the excellent and pious, who,
with equal claims to cultivation and refinement,
have been less favored of fortune, they will be
taught that religion is not the one thing needful,
that moral worth does not present the highest
claim for respect and esteem. llow can a child,
reared under the influence of such instructions,
form an elevated and reliable character ? When
the fruits of these teachings shall appear in after
life, they will be bitter. Oh! so bitter to the par
rent who is unfortunate enough to live to see them
ripen.— Aurora.
Imagine wall* „nd cracked ceilings
with the beams gaping and .overed with dust and
spiders’ webs, sofas torn ai d greasy, portieres in
tatters, traces of tallow and oil every where. When
I entered for the first time one of these charming
places 1 was disgusted, but the mistresses of the
house did not perceive it. Mirrors being very
scarce in these countries, the ladies bedizen them
selves in the strangest possible guise. They thrust
a number of bejeweled pins into printed cotton
liankerchiefs and then roll them round their
heads. They pay not the slightest attention to
their hair, and only the very great ladies who
have visited the capital combs. As for
the many-colored paints, of which they make an
immoderate use, they can onfy regulate their dis
tribution by mutual assistance, and as the women
living in the same house are so many rivals, the
great object is to render them ridiculous. They
put vermilion on their lips, rouge on their cheeks,
nose, forehead and chin, white wherever there
is a vacancy, and blue round their eyes and
under their nose. Stranger still is the manner
in which they paint their eyebrows. They are
doubtless told that to be beautiful, the eyebrow
should form.a large arch, and they have thence
concluded that the larger the arch the more beau
tiful is the eyebrow, without inquiring whether its
position is not irrevocably fixed by nature. This
being the case, they allow their eyebrows all the
space bet ween the temples, and paint on the fore
head two immense arches, which, starting from the
top of the nose, run across the forehead. Some
young eccentric beauties prefer a straight line to
a curve ? and trace a broad black band across the
forehead ; but these are exceptions.
Profanity.—A large class of peopl seem to
think profanity the distinctive mark of a gentle
man. But is it not worn by those who would not
be recognized as gentlemen ? The venest vagar
bond can curse just as vilely as the most respect
able. What depth in this wicked and vulgar
habit, which the lowest ruffian cannot plumb.
Has not the reader heard the foul-mouthed
wretches that swarm in our lowest groceries pour
out profanity as revolting as ever dripped from
the lips of so called respectability ? Let us bear
in mind that swearing is not an exclusive acom
plishment. It garnishes the vernacular of the reek
ing hell as well as that of the street cornel.
Great men lose somewhat of their greatness, by
being near us, ordinary men gain much.
1
ggLU-m, ij. . L—.!. MWBEI
He Drinks.—How ominous tW sentence falls
How we pause in conversation and ejaculate, ‘lt’
a pity !’ How his mother hopes he will not whei
he grows older; how his sisters persuade them
selves that it is only a few wild oats he is sowing
And yet the old men shake their heads and fee
gloomily when they think about it. Young mar
just commencing life, botiyant with hope, don’l
drink. You are freighted with a precious cargo
The hopes of your old parents, of your sisters, o:
your wife, of your children—all are laid dowr
upon you. In you the aged live over again theii
young days; through you only can that wear)
one you love obtain a position in society ; and
from the level in which you place them must youi
children go into the great struggle of life.
- ‘ *
All Animals can ♦alk !—At the annual meeting
of the Association for the advancement of Science,
held lately at Boston, it was shown that, after all,
there are no “dumb beasts” Dr. Gibbon read a
very interesting paper on- the language of animals.
“He says that every variety of animated being
possesses some means of intelligible communica
tion.” Each creature, by peculiar sounds or signs
of correspondence, has a language understood by
its own kind, and sometimes learnt by others.
Emotions of caution, affection and fear—of joy,
gratitude and grief—are disclosed by simple tones
ot voice, or by impressive gestures, to signalize
ieelTngs, strictly comprehended, and often an
swered. Insects and birds, fish and beasts, thus
express themselves—in distinctlanguages, signed,
spoken and sung, seen heard and felt. He illus
tiated his theory by stating familiar facts relative
to domestic animals.” m
I—
In AND Out OF Office.—Lord Lyndhurst—the
Boston lord- tolls a good story apropos of his sur
render of the Great Seal, in 1848, showing the
relative importance of the Ins and Outs.
“ When I went to the palace,” says his lord
ship, “ 1 alighted at the grand stair-case; I was
received by the sticks of gold and silver, and other
officers of the household, who called, in sonorous
tones, from landing to landing, and apartment to
apartment, ‘ Room for the Lord High Chancellor
of Englandl entered the presence chamber; I
gave the seals to her majesty; I had the honor of
kissing her hand ; I left the apartment by another
door, and found myself on a back stair-case down
which I descended without any one taking any
notice of me, until as I was looking for my car
riage at the outer door, a lacquey bustled up, and,
with a patronizing air, said, ‘Lord Lyrfdhurst, can
I do anything for you V ”
< Oi
Deacon Briggs.—Old Deacon Briggs is as re
markable for his closeness as was Dickens man
Barkis.. His name has come to be a proverb in
our region for such an economy as ever makes
the man the subject of ridicule and contempt.
One bitter cold morning, a few falls ago, he bade
the boys drive together all the pigs that were to
be fattened for the market, into the little yard
just at the corner of the house, A pig was caught
by one of the youngsters—the Deacon with a pair
of pincers in one hand and a sharp knife in the
other, seized the unfortunate by the tail and cut
it off, close up. So through the whole herd, leav
ing not a pig with even a stump of a tail. Cort,
who worked for his grandfather, stood by in amaze
ment—his hands in his pockets, his body warped
into a crescent by the cold, and his teeth jawing
against the outrage with a prodigious chatter?
At last he stuttered out:
“ Grandpa! what are you cutting off those tails
for ?”
Sober and solemn was Deacon Briggs as he re
plied : &
“ You will never be a rich man, for you do not
know what it is to be savin. ’ You ought to know,
my child, that it takes a bushel ot covn to fatten, an
inch of tail.”
Tiie Piano-Forte.—A lady who plays well on
the piano forte, and desires to make this accom
plishment a source of pleasure and not of annoy
ance to her friends, should be careful to adapt
the style of her performance to the circumstances
in which it is called for, and should remember
that a gay, mixed company would be tired to
death with one of those elaborate pieces which
would delight the learned ears of a party of cog
noscenti. It is from neglect of this consideration
that many a really excellent performer makes
her music a social grievance. Many a beautiful
sonata or fantasia, to which at another time we
would have listened with pleasure, has been
thrown away upon a company, who either drowned
it by their conversation, or sat during its continu
ance in constrained and wearied silence. We
would never advise a performer to make a sacrifice
to vulgarity or bad taste ; but there is no want of
pieces which combine brevity with excellence—
contain in a small compass many beauties of mel
ody, harmony, and modulation—and afford room
for the display of brilliancy, taste, and expression,
on the part of the performer. A piece of this
kind will not weary by its length those who do
not care for music, while it will give pleasure to
the most cultivated taste; and with such things,
therefore, every musical lady ought to be well
provided.
Ra
The world certainly contrives to get the most
out of its celebrities. While Rachel lived, every
incident of her life was annually reproduced; and
in every style of art the great actress was repre
sented. Now that she is dead her property has
been sold—her jewelry, her books, her dresses,
her furniture, and—by itself—her bed and canopy.
Detailed descriptions have flown upon every wind.
The heart of Parasian gossip has been satisfied.
But avarice is not so easily quieted. As if in the
career of this hapless woman, whose life seems
all the move a tragedy from the brief splendor
of its triumph, nothing should be sacred or pri
vate—as if to prove finally to the world how truly
in a thousand scenes the actress had represented
the death-struggle—a photograph of Rachael in
the last agony of life was taken, and, with some
changes, is now exhibiting. It was done by her
relatives. A Paris correspondent of a city paper
says: “ What their object was in thus disturbing
the last moments of the dying tragedienne it is not
proper to judge.” But before he completes his
paragraph he answers his own questions. “ While
living, she was the resource of tier Hebrew family;
now that she is dead, they continue the exploita
tion of her body and her memory.” Not, proba
bly, because they are Hebrews, but because they
inhumanly avaricious ; and avarice is not the vice
of a race, but of humanity. How easily might the
imagination conceive the genius which has left no
peer behind, murmuring in the increased intelli
gence of a higher sphere:
“Imperious Caesar, dead, and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
Oh, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should'patch a wall to expel tne winter’s flaw !”
How to Secure a Fine Display of Rosea.
To obtain a fine and continuous bloom of roses,
is a matter worth striving for. They are always
acceptable—winter, summer, spring and autumn.
After the proper varieties, highly enriched soil is
the main secret to success. W itliout this, the
best kind of perpetuals are little better than June
roses. Some may bring forth an occasional flow
er in the fall, but nothing like a full blow, and
the roses themselves small and puny. In new
plantations, trench up the ground two spades
deep, and work in at least six inches of thorough
ly rotted manure. If it makes the bed too high,
cart away some of the poorest of the soil. While
spading, incorperate as much as possible the ma
nure with the soil. After the ground is thus pre
pared, leave it still, after a rain, if convenient, to
settle somewhat, then plant your roses. In
doing so, see that it is done properly that is,
the soil well pulverized, and • placed completely
about the roots. If ft choice can be had, select
those roses that have been dormant during the
winter. You may then expect a most brilliant
display of midsummer, after which they will pro
duce occasional flowers until the cool days of fall,
when they will prepare to gladden you again with
another rioh profusion of flowers. In the case of
old plantations, or small specimen roses, too
large to move conveniently, thoroughly dress
them by laying bare their roots, ana filling in
again with half soil and half rich rotten manure.
In case either of these are not done from any
cause, the next best thing is to frequently stir
the soil during summer, and watering every week
when the soil will bear it -that is, when it is not
surcharged with water—with liquid manure wa
ter. Give a good soaking, enough to reach the
roots, when it is done. Avery good way to ap
ply artificial manure, is to sprinkle it Over the
bed just before rain. Guano or fowl dung of
any description, is excellent for the purpose.
June roses, climbers, and in fact any rose, is ben
efited by the above application . —Gauntry Gentle
man.
It is a'remarkable fact, according to “ the chem
istry of the world,” that trees which are regularly
shaken every day iri the green-house, grow more
rapidly and are stronger than others which are
kept unagitated.