Newspaper Page Text
LITERARY
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PENFIELD, GEORGIA.
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VK-VZEY• - E E>ITOIII
A short time before he was hung, James Thomp
son, recently executed in Columbus, joined the
Catholic Church. In accordance with their usage
ho wasburied by the funeral society of that congre
gation.
•— ■- -——
Mr. John C. Carter, of Waynesboro, Ga., gradu
ated at the Cumberland College Law school, in
Tennessee, with gtvat distinction; and at the
commencement of Dickenson College, Carlisle,
1 enn., the valedictory address was delivered
by M. L. Gordon, of Georgia.
Toe August number of Arthur’s Ilonc Magazine
lias made its appearance, with all its varied at- !
tractions, engravings, fashion-plates, illustrations, !
reading matter of all kinds and all that renders ]
this periodical intrinsically valuable. Price, $2 j
a-year; 4 copies, $5.
Ihe Atlanta Medical & Surgical Journal for July j
lias been on our table for several days. It is a
neat pamphlet of sixty-four pages, issued monthly
and edited by Profs. ,T. P. Logan, M. D. & W. F.
Westmoreland, M. J). Its merits, so far as we
can judge, commend it to the support of the pro
session. Price, $2 a-year, in advance.
The Atlanta Intelligencer says: Gen. Eli McCon
nell, keeper of the Penitentiary, offers a reward !
‘of $250 for the delivery to him of Jesse Roberson, |
George Ilicks and George Anderson, who escaped j
from thence on the sth of July. .Tesse Roberson
was one of those sentenced from Fulton county, I
at our last court.
—:
We are under obligations to the Southern Bap
tist Publication Society for two pamphlets, “ The
Christian Sabbath” and “ Salvation of Infants ,” both
from the pen of Rev. J. P. Tustin, editor of the
“ Southern Baptist,” Charleston, S. C. We regret
not having time to give them a careful perusal,
hut from the well-known ability of the author as
a writer, we can safely recommend them.
There were in the Methodist Episcopal Confer
ence,tin session atNashville, Tennesse, some pret
ty tall preachers; the Rev. Mr. Young, of Mis
'souri, six feet inches; Rev. Mr. Kelly, of South
Carolina, six feet six inches: Rev. Mr. Alexan
der of Texas, six feet six inches; and the Rev.
Dr. Mitchell, of Alabama, six feet four and a half
inehes.
We are glad to see that the press generally are
taking ground in favor of abolishing public exe
cutions. The demoralizing effects which they
produce on the minds of the spectators are be
coming more apparent with ever)” new instance.
We hope to see some plan devised by which cap- ‘
itnl punishment may be avoided ; but until this ‘
is done, executions should at least be so eonctuc-
ted as not to be a direct curse upon the living.
Some of our contemporaries observe that Mayor I
Tiemann lias given S. Swan & Cos. an opportunity j
of advertising more extensively than they have
over done before, free of expense. Concerning
the amount of advertising, we agree with them; ‘
they have advertised very largely. But we reckon ‘
it has not been so much of a free thing. The
amounts they have expended in buying up “opin
ions of the press,” have doubtless lightened their ‘
coffers very considerably.
Joseph T. Buckingham, the once bvillian editor
of the Boston Courier, writes to that paper a beau
tiful letter of two columns, which concludes with
the following fine pathos:
“ For me the problem of immortal life or eter
nal sleep will soon be solved. The great caravan
sera; the steps which conduct me to its portal ■
will be few, and I trust unfalting.
‘Nightly I pitch my moving tent (
A day’s march nearer.’ ”
Tue line of distinction between a foible and a
vice, cannot always be readily traced. In many
characters, much that is disagreeable and annoy
ing has to be set down as the effects of eccentri
city, with the extenuating plea that these are
“only then* ways.” When, however, a man per
sists in a foible which.he knows gives pain to all
with whom he associates, it becomes a positive
vice. In this view of the matter, it becomes very ,
Important for a man to be particular in regard to
those strange peculiarities which he is apt to con
sider innocent.
An exchange says: In the seventeenth century,
. *4he epithet Miss, applied to females, was consid
ered a term of reproach.
And up to this afternoon of the 19th century it
has not quite lost that significance. To say noth
ing of the numerous ladies who had rather be
called Mis. than Miss, the word is often applied
derisively to little girls by their playmates, aswell
• as sometimes by offended mothers to full grown
daughters; as, “You are not quite big enough for
your hoops, Miss!”
j
About hoops, we believe, ridicule and sarcasm
have expended all their force in vain. But as
every man claims the privilege of passing what
criticisms lie pleases on the styles of female dress,
we mnst enter our protest against those head
adornings (?) called, by an egregious misuse of
language, hats. They are far worse than the ele
gant affairs of Cinderella dimensions which tvlii
lome they fastened on the hinder part of t heir
Iliads. Broad and ilat, they impart to the wearer
the appearance of a top-heavy mushroom, save
when a taut ribbon gives them a declination in
front, not unlike a colevvort leaf too much sur
charged with moisture to retain its rigidity. We
have thought a lady could be pretty in any di'ess;
but we have seen ladies who were really beau tiful,
look wretchedly when surmounted by these vast
encumbrances. We have no objection, ladies, to
your “spreading yourselves” in all the majestic
amplitude of crinoline ; but we do most seriously
protest against the conversion of your bodies into
umbrella staves.
Curious Desire. —Not long since, at one of the
morning prayer meetings in a popular churuh, a
middle-aged gentleman requested the prayers of
the congregation, “as he was about choosing a
companion.”
If it were a “ strange request,” it -was neither
inappropriate or foolish. He was doubtless a man
of sense and felt seriously the importance of the
step which ho was about taking. Any one womld
feel the need of prayer in his behalf when on tihe
eve of taking a companion, if he had ever read
HOW MUCH IT COSTS FAST WOMEN” TO LIVE.
In the Woodman divorce case, at New Orleans,
the following evidence was given : “ Mr. Piment
awdhi.—Has known Mr. and Mrs. Woodman for
over ten years ; could say that Mr. Woodman’s
. conduct towards his wife has always been kincL
and indulgent; he never knew him to oppose’
hjr iu anything; her demands were very expen
sive; could not say exactly what her expenses
were during the year; knows that their expanses
together were about $10,000; he was satisfied
that Mr. W.’s expenses did not exceed $2,500;
Mr. W. is noted for his,,extreme’ plainness in
dress.”
ingratitude.
( “ I bate ingratitude more in man *
; I ban lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
! Or any taint of vice, whoso strong corruption
i Inhabits our frail blood.”
j “ Ho who doth public good for multitudes.
Finds few aie truly grateful.”
I PRAISE thebridge that bears you safely over,”
JL is an old rule expressed in good, plain Sax
| on, which few of the present day quote, and still
i fewer observe. Thero is but little gratitude in
the world—far less than is professed, and the pro
fessions are few enough in this particular. Do a
man a favor and he is not grateful, but “ under
obligations,” and is miserable until he has re
turned your kindness—thus relieving himself of
the debt which he feels he owes. Do him a favor
which he cannot repay, and in seven cases out of
ten lie will hate you with a perfect hatred.
There have been worso serpents than that of the
Greek fable which buried its fangs in the breast
of its benefactor. Beings who have worn human
guise have done the same with more envenomed
malice, and better directed blows.
We need not assign to men presumed motives,
jin order to judge them ungrateful. It is de
i dared in their actions moro forcibly* than they
! could express their feelings. How very few ever
| send up one breath of thankfulness to the Giver
| of good for the temporal blessings which wo en-
I joy! Thousands are proud to boast of their
wealth and valuable possessions; but they speak
of them as what their energy and industry have
won, and not what a bountiful Providence has
been pleased to bestow. True, we have our
Thanksgiving Days, w hen there is much of feast
ing and rejoicing, of psalm-singing and praise
chanting; but amid all this, there are few hearts
in which an emotion of gratefulness has an exis
tence. With the great mass, the shouts of praise
are mere breath of the lips, and the professions
of thankfulness, mockery. But it was not of
men’s ingratitude to the Supreme Being of which
we designed speaking. It is, however, reasona
ble to conclude that if they act ungratefully to
ward Him to whom they are indebted for all they
have and are, they are s@ in a much higher de
gree toward their fellow-men. Instances of the
basest ingratitude are so frequent, that the exis
tence of a contrary sentiment may bo regarded
as mythical. In many cases where it might be
looked for in a very high degree, it is found to
be totally wanting. There is a young man whom
an inherited fortune has raised above labor, given
him every advantage of education and intro
duced him into the best circles of society. Ilis
wealth, for which he has never spent an hour of
toil, brings him every earthly blessing which his
heart could desire. But while revelling in all this
luxury, he feels no gratefulness to his parent who
labored through long years to accumulate the
sums which the son idly squanders. If ever a
remembrance of him arises at all, it comes an un
welcome visitor. The cheek of the fashionable
exquisite would burn with shame, were it publicly
annnounced that his father was an honest trades
man, or an industrious mechanic.
In our country, no beginning is so humble that
it may not lead to the highest elevation; but
many, when they hare attained the top of the
ladder, forget that their feet ever touched the
lower rounds. Politicians are as often the crea
tions of party as they are its creatures, their rise ,
and success being less the consequences of their
talents and energy than the result of wiro-work
ing caucuses. But when they have gained in
fluence, these very politicians are traitors to the
very party that has made them. They adopt
some set of principles more likely to further their
imbitious schemes, and with iron face declare
that they are, aud always have been, free from
party ties. But among a craft who practically
carry out the Jesuitical doctrine, that “the end
sanctifies the means,” we need scarce expect
gratitude to be the most prominent of their virtues.
The young man enters the ministry and set-,
ties down in the pastorship of a poor and ob
scure congregation. In a short time his praise
is on the lips of every one and soon the fame of
his powers has been noised abroad. Just as he
lias become most influential, and consequently
most useful in bis position, he informs his devo
ted flock that “ the Lord has called him” to an
other situation; of course one moro honorable
and lucrative. This “ calling” spirit never whis
pers in his ears that it would bo more consistent
to remain and do good among those who had
given him their support and encouragement,
when others looked without sympathy at his ot
forts. Thus he goes on. making his popularity
at one place procure him a more elevated call,
until the doctorate has been added to his name,
or the mitre placed upon his brow. When he
has attained these aims of his ambition, he would
perhaps look with scorn upon those who first give
him a helping hand. W lion “ the Lord calls ’to
a sinecure and a fat salary, the still small voice
that pleads the claims of gratitude is unheard.
Time and patience, however, would fail us, did
we attempt to enumerate all the forms of ingrat
itude. It is seen everywhere and in every class.
We might speak of those who gain their daily
bread from a community to whose every interest
they manifest the bitterest hostility. YV e might
point to the teacher who incurs trouble in order
to avoid patronizing those upou whom be relies
for support. But wo havo said enough already
to prove the truth of the old remark, that he who
attempts to live by thanks has a slim sustenance.
VTO object which naturo presents to our view is
1’ fraught with more power of awakening ten
der emotions than a young moon of summer.
There is about it, then, a soft loveliness which it
possesses at no other season. The light which it
sheds over the earth is like the dawnings of first
hopes, pale and dim, yet giving promise of future
brightness. Her brilliance has not yet obscured
the shinings of other luminaries that deck the
nightly plain, and she rides only queen of stars.
Next to her Hesperus rides brightest, who ac
knowledges no compeer in all the stellar host,
either for beauty or splendor. In the East, Mars
steadily rolls on in his course with dull, heavy,
fiery ray. All over its expanse the vault is
thickly bespangled with sparkling brilliants, ren
dered more lonely by the faint glimmerings of
lunar light.
But not upon the sky alone does the young
moon shed it beauty. Though her rays are not
yet full enough to tinge every leaf with silver,
they bring out objects in that indistinct perspec
tive which is oftentimes more pleasing to the eye
than an unobscured blaze of light. The faint
shadows which they throw, fade out so gradually
that the outlines cannot be traced. There is not
that dread with which the soul shrinks when all
is wrapped in the gloom of darkness, nor yet that
pensive melancholy which is awakened when the
beamings of the full moon reveal every object in
day-like splendor. The heart feels a quiet, calm
delight. It sympathizes with the joy of the katy
did as hour after hour she pours forth her merry
strains. It is a season full of thought—rich, poetic
thought; not such poetry as oppresses with its
very fullness, And refuses the spirit utterance; not
that kind which delights in darkness and thick
clouds, and sinks the heart with the woight of
hopeless dejection; but that light, jbyous jrind
that “voluntary moves harmonious numbers.”
The dialect of the West is raythcr strong and
slightitally hyperbolical. One Brown, who has
lately been travelling in the Occident, as far as
! Arkansas, says, that when a man in that region
desire; to say that he would like a drink, he de
clares that if he had a glass of whiskey, He would
throw of |t, almighty qufek.’
We extract from a private letter the following
account of
A VISIT TO MOUNT VERNON.
AFTER remaining in Washington nine days,
I took a beautiful boat, which at this season :
makes the trip to Mount Vernon twice a week,
1 for the purpose of seeing the hallowed spot where
• sleeps all that remains of George Washington. !
The day was a pleasant one, and served by its j
brightness to enhance the natural beauty of the j
river scenery. Fishermen with long nets dotted !
the water, and anchored coal-ships were lazily \
rocking in the gentle breeze. The day being;
calm, visitors soon crowded the boat, and none, j
I dare say, over enjoyed a more agreeable ride j
than this one of near twenty miles on the bosom !
of the broad Potomac. As we were nearing ]
Mount Vernon, the bell began its slow* tolling, j
and turning to the wharf, we could see, almost i
obscured by green trees, though standing on a j
high bank of the river, the old white house where, I
retired from public service, lived and died “the *
father of his'country.”
The boat stops at an old wharf which, with
some repair, looks as though it had stood half a
century. On leaving the boat, we were directed
along a narrow, winding track which has been
cut and laid with planks. These, however, are
fast decaying, making the walk to the tomb
(which is up a considerable ascent, and a dis
tance of more than one hundred yards) rugged
and fatiguing. Near the termination of this
pathway, we stood before the tomb of Washing
ton. ‘sever had I known the feeling Os patriotic j
inspiration till stopped so near the humbly-en- j
tombed dust of America’s great son. The history j
of a revolution rises up before you, the struggles
of a nation to avoid Oppression and of a republic
in infancy for independence, all recur to your
mind as you stand on that consecrated spot. But
my object is to describe.
The tomb is built of common brick, and above
! the entrance is a single square piece of granite,
in which is cut “ Washington Family.” The
shutters consist of two iron gates, which are kept
locked, but whoso un-riglit pieces are sufficiently
wide to admit the enquiring gaze of the cu
rious. Upon the stone which covers the sarcoph
agus is chiselled the simple name, “ W asiuxgtos*
and on your left, covered with equal simplicity,
are the remains of Mrs. Washington.
There is an absence of everything liko pomp j
or magnificence connected with the tomb. No
tall pyramid or “ proudly waving banner” directs >
the j assing traveller to it; but ho who visits
Mount Vernon will find that Washington sleeps
in almost the very simplicities of nature. Small
trees bend over his dust, and tall briars growing
in the inelosure, lift their heads above its walls.
Leaving this spot and going in the direction of
the house, I met a servant who sold walking-canes
to those who wish such memorials of Mount Ver
non. lie gave me direction to the old vault, and
after going some distance along an over-grown
path, found it almost filled with fallen leaves and
the crumbling of its stones.
Following the same rude pathway, my next
nearest object was a neat little building close to
the river, (but almost a hundred feet above it.)
which I found had nicely-arranged seats, and
well situated for making observations on the river.
It certainly looked inviting, and I thought that
its old owner might have here spent some of his
happiest moments in that retirement in which
his own volition placed him. Beneath this build
ing is a pit for keeping ice, and ’tis said that .
while working in it, Washington took the cold
which assisted in terminating his life.
I next went to the mansion itself, and, being
the usual-day for visitors, the rooms that were ;
most convenient were of ready access. On enter- 1
ing the hall, the first object which strikes your
attention is a large, curious looking key which I
was presented to Washington by LaFayette.’
This is the key of the Bastile, and from its asso
ciations is rendered an object of considerable in
terest. The rooms appeared neat, and contain a
number of pictures, the general design of which >,
are events of revolution. We were shown the
camp-book of the general, which contains, on ■
one page, amounts received from U. S. Congress,
and on the other, their credit. There is nothing
commanding in the appearance of the house, but
is characterized by an air of refinement and love
liness more satisfactory in its nature than if of
more stately appearance.
There is plainly observable, even now, in ita
neglected state, a pleasing quietude pervading
the entire place. Grass grows with wild luxuri
ence, and uncultivated flowers spot the yard,
while the over-grown walks and the continual
‘hum of the wild bee all serve to remind you of
1 the forsaken condition of Mount Vernon. Wash
ington sleeps in humble retirement. The bird
i smgs its sweet song above him, and the waves
break gently on the shoro beneath him, while’
the soft tread and almost hushed voice Os the
pilgrim, as he comes to stand beside his dust,
scarce serve to break the stillness which surrounds
liis tomb. H.
THERE are persons who think that a thing is
always cheap if it can be bought for a small
sum, and that it is dear if the price is large. This 1
notion is very unphilosophieal; for, though the :
price of a thing is indicative of its value, it is not
infallibly and invariably so. Prices arc very much
influenced by circumstances, and it is not at all
rare to sec an article high-priced which is intrin
sically worthless. Asa general rule—One which
lias no exceptions—a thing which a person does
not need, is dear to him at any price.
Many persons cheat themselves grievously in
attempts to practise their theories of economy.
One will buy an article which his own judgment
tells him is worthless, because it had been had for
few cents less than another which is of twice its a
real value. He will patronize a physician who
slightly undercharges, though lie may have no
confidence either in his skill or principles. He will
take a newspaper which for a whole year is not
worth the paper and ink which has been con
sumed in a single number, because its subscrip
tion price is a dime or two less than that of one i
that would be a source of pleasure to himself and
instructive to liis family. Ho, going through all
the range of vocations, we would find that by
very many, men are estimated, not by what their
services are really worth, but l>y the rates at
which they charge for them.
Economy is a commendable virtue ; but it is
one about which persons are very liable to enter
tain mistaken views. Living cheaply is not al
ways living economically. A man may never
buy any but the lowest priced articles, and yet
be prodigally extravagant.
The Life of an Editor. —We clip the following
true sketch of the life of the Editor, from the
Richmond South. There aro few persons out
side of the fraternity who can appreciate or inside
who will not endorse it;
“There are no strains upon the mind, no trials
upon the temper, like those which beset writers
for the press. Their work is never done. There
is no “covered walk of acacias”—no “lake”—no
“mountains”—no “serenesky”—-no “silver orb
of the moon”—no “ year of jubilee”—no period
of rest to the Editor. His work never ends. He
has no time to mature great works—to fashion
out poems—to meditate stately histories. He
must write, write, write ; brilliantly and well if
he can; but under any circumstances, the busy
pen must glide on, with no lake of Lausanne
gleaming in the perspective splendor of a foturw
moon roe of reetand gniekide.”
The Bostonians are engaged in raising a fund
of $50,000, for building a female medical collego,
Prussia is the largest exporter of wheat to Eng-’
land; next, Jiussia, .and third- the United States’
During her visit to Birmingham, Queen Victo
ria listened to a hymn sung by 47,000 Sunday school
children.
Jas. Scott, Esq., President of the- Exchange
( Bank of Columbia, So. Ca., died in that city, on the
7th instant,
The Episcopal Contention of South Oarolinahas
voted its Bishop six month's hollidsy, and 51,200
to take it with. , !
The whole number of persona employed ip Mas
sachusetts in the manufacture of boots, shobaand
leather is estimated at about 80,000.
‘Thanks’ said an old bachelor, ‘no more women
in heaven—they ean’t get in, their hoops are so
broad—ean’t get through the narrow gate.’
Emigration to California eommmeneed in May.
1848. At that time it eontainead sereely 15,000
inhabitants. There is a population of 00,000,
A proposition has been made to admit lady stu-“
dents at the State University of Michigan. The
Detroit Free Tress thinks the idea dangerous.
A Printer, in settingup, “we are but parts of a V
stupendous whole,” by mistake of a letter, niadef
it read, ‘we arebutpartsof astupendous whale!” |
Rev. E. E. Wilev, President of Emory Henry |
College, Va., has been appointed President of!
Methoditt Control College, in Howard county, j
Mo. 1
A Yankee describingan opponent, sars: a ltel!
! YOU what, sir, that man don't amount to a sum in
carrv” 6^0, add up. and there’s nothing to
vJI' P f Sid M n c Milkpd Rlnrawfa suffering so
l \ crely from inflammation of the eyes. They are
! entlrdy that hc 1S obil BtO forego reading, almost
Mr. Robert MeFaddin was found killed oppo
site ms plantation near Greensboro’, Ala., a few
days ago. His death was probably caused by
tall from his horse.
The death of> Tueian Minor, Professor of Law at
Willaim and Mary College, Va. t is announced.
He had been for sometime indeeliningdeath, and
on the 6th instaut, expired.
The Southern Methodist Qvartcrty Remcw has failed
to pay expenses in the sum of SB,OOO during the
past years. 11 is proposed, in order to make it here
after pay its way, to modify its character.
, the Jaunton Gazette, says that there are tour
sisters in that town weighing nine hundred snd
thirty-five pounds. The shortest being about* nix
feet high, -weighs two hundred and fifty-six,
A minister, who had received® number ofrll
and could scarcely deeide which was the bast, asked
the advice of a faithful old African servant, vrh<> re
plied : “Master, go where thero is the mewt devil.”
The Lawrence, Kansas, Herald of Freedom esti
mates the present population of Kansas at one
hundred thousand, and thinks it will bo one hun
dred and twenty thousand before the year eloetsi.
An Irishman being asked on a late trial for
certificate of his marriage, bared his head and ex
hited a huge sear, which looked as though it b&d
been made with a fire shovel. Th© ©videno®
satisfactory.
The City Marshal of Lexington, !Cy., Mr. Beard,!
was murdered by a man named Barker, or Satur
day last, while endeavoring to arrest- him. A
crowd collected and hung themurderor a few hours
afterwards.
According to Monsieur Gen in, French savant
the sex of eggs can be distinguished. All agg#
containing the germs of males have wrinkles on
their smaller end, while female egg are equally
smooth at both extremities.
A Tippler, who squinted awfellji?, and was soma
times heard to mourn that his eyes did not agree.
“It’s very lucky for you,” replied his friend, “ for if
your eyes had been matched” you? nos® would have
set them on fire long ago.”
“What ugly, dirty child isthat under the window, I
Susan.” *
“Why, that is my child,” replied Mr. J. f
“(V tis pretty; call the dear, beautiftiL pretty £
little creature in and let me kiss hep t” |
A writer gives the following advice to wives; j
“Should you find it necessary, as you undoubtedly j
will, many of you, to chastise your husbands, you !
will perform this affectionate*duty with the eoft
end of tffe broom, not with the handle.”
“My schoolmaster,” says Cfarlyle, “ was a good
Latin scholar, and of the hunnan mind ho knew
this much—that it had a faculty called memory,
which might bo reached through the museular in
integument by the application of birchen rode.”
The art of spreading rumbts is compared to the
art of pin making. There is usually some truth
which is the wire; as this passes from hand, one
gives it a polish, another apoinfc, others make snd
put on the head, and at last the pin (or the ru- j
mor) is made.
The French Minister of State baa Informed the
manager of theatres in Paris that the eensors
have orders to strike out hereafter all slang from
plays, and no pieeo will be licensed which con
tains slang. The motive* is to protect tho purity
of the language. ‘ ?
C c j
In the year 1857, the Prtris tribunals pronounced j
one thousand two hundred and forty-two son ten- jj
cos of rnatrimonials separations. And there were j
four thousand two hundred and fifty eases de-j
cided in which neither party should interfere with j
the other’s property. \
The New Haven (Conn.) Palladium records tho j
death of the Rev. A. Chapin, D. D., formerly od- >
itor of the Chronicle of the Church, an Episcopal j
journal, and more recently editor of the CalamJer, !
in New Haven. Dr. C. theauthov of several j
books and .pamphlet©.
Mr. n. is a ripe scholar, and Accomplished wri- |
ter, and will no doubt give to the public a jour
nal in every way worthy of their patronage. We 1
cannot have too many of suoh publications among ’
us, and we bid Mr. H., God speed in his udertak- . :
ing. —Savannah Republican.
‘fan any t>oy name an animal of the order ‘on
denta’—that is a front-toothless animal?” A boy
whose face beamed with pleasure at the prospect
of a good mark replied? “lean.” “Well, what
is the animal?” asked the teacher, “My grand- ;
mother 1” replied the boy with great glee.
Oregon must be a very moist country. A letter
from there says, “ it rains twenty-six hours in tho f
day for seventeen months in the year. A shower *
commenced on the 3d of last November and con
tinued until the Kith ofMarch, when it set in for
a long storm, which is not ended yet-.
Avarieeisabcsettingsin with many men; indeed,
where will you find the man who is satisfied with
his present possessions ? For—
You can’t fill a man as you till tips* pitcher ‘!
He always will hold j
A little more gold :
And never so rich that he wtmldn't be richer.
“William,” said a. carpenter to his apprentice,
“I’m going array to-day, and I want you to grind
all the tools.” “Yes sir.” Tho carpenter came
home at night. “William, have you ground nil
the tools sharp?” “All but tho handsaw,” said
Bill, “ I Wouldn’t get quite oil the gaps out of
that 1”
A man sentenced to bo hung was visited by his
: wife, who said: J
“My dear, would you like this children ft> see 1
you executed?”
“N<>,” he replied.
’ “That’s just like you; y'oh hevir Stated the
children to have any enjoyment,”
At a debating society in Sehenectadyfthe other
day, the subject was: “Which is the most beauti
ful production ? a girl or a strawberry ?” After
continuing tho argument for two nights, the meet
ing; adjourned without coming to a conclusion —
the old vines going for strawberries, ami the
young ones for the girls.
An assembled family, a* the legacy to each wm
read aloud, sobbed andwuihed that the father had
lived to ©njoy his own fortmie. At last came the
bequost to his heir: “ I give my eldeet son iom a
shilling to hang himself with.”
“Would to God,” said Tom, sobbing, like tire
I reefc, thatmypcKW father bad lived rthirn
® .TV -lV$ '•* <. ■ 7>o-- ■ x / %
Xeai Me, still Near me.
T JANE M. MEAD.
i Nc jib, *UII near me, when the quiet even
. ” fCB ls <> r US -T ear( h end whispers rest,
? e j ni S" t , ■ ■hangs o'er the shadowy heaven,
■ wt and I)irti •> aT sought for rest;
. j Ik® br , lght Btnl, s unveil their glorious faces,
Ttu?, h ? ~m oon looks eoftl y f f°m the sky;
Ihen my load heart thine imago plainly trace*,
tNien oou art near me, ever, ever nigh.
Al f h ® iong ’ Il°ng 1 l ° ng . r,ig,,t hath a l°"lv ended,
d k ° , mooa breaks o’er the smoky hills:
When beauty’s touch with all around is bILZ,’
VVhen the soft sunlight dances on the rills,
When the glad birds are singing in the bowers.
Oi mounting upward to the clouds on hih
r® n ’ TJ } !u the franco from the dew-k£sed flowers.
OometO thy voice, Near thee,” still ever nigh.
And at the nuonlighf, when the sunlight streaming
Comes softly in thy silent, silent room,
I linger there, and find myself still dreaming
Ofthy sad fate—taken in life’s bright bloom.
And when I muse and call thine image near me,
And think upon time, lone and silently,
Then thy silent voice doth gently, sweetly cheer me,
I feel thy presence ever, ever nigh.
Oh, thou art neartne, yes, still near forevc-r
I mingle with the crowd in pleasure’s hulls.
I wear a smiling lip with stern endeavor,
And list to beauty’s voice that softly falls
Tfpon my ear and strive to still dissemble
My secret feelings from the cold worlds’s eye,
But iny true heart, still, for thee will tremble;
Bright guardian spirit! thou art ever nigh.
Thou still art near me, though thy form is sleeping,
And thy dear voice in solemn silence hushed;
Thine eyes were closed erethey were dim with weeping,
Oi thou fair flower, in life’s bright morning crushed,
And though in form I nevermore shall meet thee,
Till w'o shall meet above in th’ o’erarching sky,
Yet still in spirit I may often greer thee,
My soul is comforted—thou still art nigh.
—---—mr •
Mormonism.
Mormonism is one of the most extraordinary de- j
velopmente of the errability and weakness of the [:
human mind, which has ever appeared in any j
country. In the midst of a Protestant country, *
whore free schools and the pure religion of tho i
New Testament is everywhere taught, and a free, *
enlightened press prevails, a superstition arises, j
surpassing in absurdity and grossness, anything ’
which has arisen since theadven tof Christ. They f
believe in anew Prophet, aud anew Revelation i,
found in an old held in New York. Making large !
allowance for the sensuality of polygamy, yet it is t
impossible to believe that this is the only tie of’
their organization. Their false religion is un- y
doubtedly the true cause of their zeal, energyand 1
sufferings in supporting it. Although, since, they f
have been at Salt Lake, they have been separated :
from the rest of the world, yet they did not orig-1
inato in a wilderness. Arising amongst our North-j
era population, they settled in Illinois, and then j
in Missouri, and continued to [multiply and pros- j
per in the midst of the intelligent and daring pop- j
ulation of our new State. To be indentified with !
the population of the. United States, seems to be j
an impossibility. The free institutions of the j
United State* are based upon the separation of ,
church and state, and thosovereignty of the poo- \
pie. According to their system, the people have -
nothing to do with the government. The church j
is the state and the people, and all temporal pow- j
er is sbordinated t.o and engrossed by the spirit- !
ual authority of tho church. Ono man, a prophet J
atthohoad of the church, is the supreme spiritual j
ami temporal ruler. He not only settles all mat
ters of conscience, but taxes and di-poses of the
property of the community as he deems proper,
flow is it passible that such a system of govern
ment aud religion can live under our form of gov- j
eminent? The Mormons therefore, are right to f
leave Salt Lake City, and to go off into tho wil- \
dernesa, to find, if possible, a retreat from our laws \
and system of government. Thoy could not allow |
a United States government, with its courts and j
officers, to prevail over them, without surrender- j
ing Mormonism. But can they, by fleeing, escape}
from tho predominance of our free institutions j
and forms of government? If they stop in the j
territory of the United Steles, they must, before j
long, be overtaken by our population and laws. \
If they go over into Mexico, there we must soon I
reach them, by the inevitable progress of our ex- ;
tension and expansion. Nothing can save them
from dispersion and dissolution but a vast phyei- i
cal power, which can effectually beat off all inter- J
ferenee, and insure their independence. Can they j
obtain this power before the antagonist power of j
our population and free institutions shall reach j
aud overwhelm them?- Char. Mercury.
Sense of Sight
Os all tho Five Senses —the sight, the hearing,
the touch, the taste, and the smell, by which we
acquire our knowledge of the external world, the
form, the color, and the other properties of mat
ter, the sense of sight is the most important,
whet her eve view it in reference to the extent of
its range, the raluo of its lessons, or the structure
of its organs. With the senses of Touch and Taste
we are brought into immediate contact with the
objects of our examination. With the organ of
Smell, we inhale from a short distance the radiating
ortho floating effluvia. The sound of the troubled
oeean, of of the gale which disturbs it, ortho thun
der which rolls “above, Is heard from afar: But
the eye carries us to the remotest horizon around,
glances upward beyond the voiceless air, through
the planetary regions where worlds are but stars
—through the sidereal zones where suns are too
small to be seen, and to that more distant bourne,
where Imagination .droops her wings, and Reason
ceases to be our guide. But even in thedistant
reams where the intellectual eye becomes dim, the
human eyeball exerts its powers—descryingand de
crib in g what is there; and if a limit has been as
signed to the physical creation, may yet convey
to the human brain the impression of the remo
test ray which streams from the very verge of
space.
Our visual powers still maintain their pre-emi
nence, when we study the organizations of the
microscopic .world—the form and the functions
of atomic life, or the larger structures of the crea
tions around us. The human ear is deaf to the
ei’y of that life which we crush beneat h our feet, and
to the joyous sounds of the living myriads which
sport in the sunbeam. The senses of Taste and
Smell give us no information respecting the ani
maleular world; and the rude touch of man, could
it rea>ch the invisible atom, would fail to disclose
either its outline or it s properties. The sight alone
pierces into the dwellings of animalcular life, ex
pands the material atom into a world—lays open
the prolific cells of vegetable and animal organi
zation, and*displays to the astonished inquirer the
structure of those wonderful tissues which cover
the fountains of intellectual and animal life.
Nor does the superiority of Sight to the other
four senses seem less striking, when we consider
what would have been the consequences had we
been limited to one. A great modern poet has de -
cribed a state of the world, in which
■ “The bright atm was extinguished, and the stars
; Did wander darkling in eternal space,
Rsyless ami pathless, and the ioy earth
Swung blind and blackening in *ho moonless air.”—
’ Byron.
But he has not ventured to conceive a world te
nanted with sightless occupants, or revolving in
space which no ray could traverse. Were our
food and drink tasteless, and no fragrance breathed
from the plant or the flower, hunger and thirst
would still be assuaged, and the lily and the rose
would delight the eye. Were the chords of the
lyre struck in vain, and the voice which soothes
or alarms us mute forever, the harmony of colors
would replace, however imperfectly, the harmo
ny of so unde, and the expressmn of the human
face would still utter, however inarticulately, the
language of reproof or of love. Without the ear,
man could have held communication, and inter
changed hie labor,, with his fellow, however dis
tant he might be. Though the rattle of the iron
wheel were inaudable, and the watchman deaf to
the shriek of the steam-pipe, tlio oolored beacon
would have guided him in his flight; and the pilot
might have eonduotod his ship round the gw e,
though he heard not the howl of the gale; ‘V;°i
shattered his rigging, nor the roar oi watoi
threatened to engulf him- .... vvnrld
S It is difficult toimagine the condition of a wor^
where space is impvevious to hg ;• ■ . .
sible to its impressions. .In such an
pool might h M did we ?estsatEfii
Slugtlt 8 ;* U intend,* 1 to convey .t: -
“Oh what were man— a world without a sun.
. . ~ „ Boston says: Very little is done
on the cwdU system at present, but the Southern
livlbants amiar to get far more indulgence and
other cla. I under
stand that they meeettheir payments more punc
hy than the same elass from other quarters.
Archbishop Hughes, it is stated, has addressed
a circular to one hundred of the wealthiest of his
00-religionist in New York, asking them to contri
bute SIOOO each to commence the building of an
immense cathedral, which is to be 322 feet long.
njd, and TOO feet high t*on tlte asm.
r* —
WHEAT OR TABES.
* Wheat or tares, which are you sowing, Fanny
i dear, in the mind of this little fellow?’ said un
cle Lincoln to his niece, Mrs. Howard,*and lie
lifted a child, not beyond his fourth summer,
upon his knee, and laid one of his hands amid the
golden curls that fell about his neck, and clus
tered about his snowy temples.
‘ Wheat, I trust, uncle Lincoln,* replied Mrs.
Howard, smiling, vOt serious. ‘ltis the enemy
who saw tares —and I amrhis mother.*
There was a glow of proud feeling in the coun
tenance of Mrs Howard, as she said,‘l am his
mother.*
It was Mr. Lincoln’s first visit to his niece since
her marriage and removal to a city some hundred
miles away from her old hoi#\
‘ Even a mother’s hand may sow tares,’ said the
old gentleman. I have it done many times,
Not ol design, but in tKftughtless inattention to
tho quality of theseed she held in her hand. Tho
enemy mixes tares with tho wheat quite as
oden as he scatters evil seed. The husbandman
must not only watch his fields by night and day,
but also the repositories of his ground, lost the
memy cause him to sow tares as well as wheat,
upon his own fruitful ground.*
H said Mrs. Howard, speaking to her
Lttlo boy, about ten minutes afterwards, ‘don’t
upset my work-basket, stop I say, vou little
rogue!’ *
freeing that tue wayward child did not mean to
heed her words, the mother started forward, but
not in time to prevent the spools of cotton,’scis
sors, emery cushion, etc., from being scattered
about the floor.
Willie laughed in great glee at this exploit,
while Mrs, Howard gathered up the contents of
the work-basket, which she now placed on tho
shelf above the reach of her mischievous, boy.
Then sho shook her tjpger at him in mock re
sentment, saying:
‘You little sinner! If you do that again I’ll
send you off with the milkman.*
‘Wheat or tares, Fanny?’ Uncle Lincoln looked
soberly at his niece.
‘Neither,* replied Mrs. Howard, smiling gaily.
‘Tares,’ said uncle Lincoln, emphatically.
‘Nonsense, uncle!’
‘Tho taros of disobedience Fanny. You have
planted theseed, and it lias already taken root.
The tares of falsehood you always throw in upon
the newly broken soil. What are you thinking
about my child?’
‘The tares of falsehood, uncle Lincoln! What
arc you thinking about? said Mrs, Howard, iu
real surprise.
.‘Hid you not say that you would send him off
with the .milkman if he did that again? I wonder
if he believed you?’
‘Of course he did not.*
; ‘Then,’ said uncle Lincoln, ‘he has. already
: discovered that his mother makes but light ac
count of truth. Will his mother be surprised if
he should grow up to set small value on his
word ?’
‘You treat this matter too seriously, uncle.
He knows that I am only playing with him.’
‘lie knows that you are tolling what is not true,*
replied Mr. Lincoln.
*lt was only in sport,’ said Fanny, persistently.
‘But in sport with sharp-edged instruments
playing wi th deadly poisons.’ The old
looked and spoke with the seriousness that op
pressed his feelings. ‘Fanny! Fanny! Truth and
obedience are good seedsfalsehood and disobe
dience are tares from the Evil One. Whatever
you plant in the garden of your child will grow,
and the harvest will be wheat or tares, just as
you have sown.’
Mrs. Howard did not reply, but her counte
nance took on a sober cast.
‘Willie,’ said she, a few minutes afterwards, ‘go
down to Jane and tell her to bring me a glass of
water.’
Willie, \yho was amusing himself with some pic
tures, looked up on hearing his name. But aslie
did not feel like, going off to the kitchen he made
no response, and let his eyes turn to the pictures
in which he had become interested.
‘Willie!’ Mrs. Howard spoke with decision,
‘did you hear me?’
‘1 don’t want to go,’ answered Willie.
‘Go this minute!’
‘I am afraid.’
‘Afraid of what ?’ inquired the mother.
‘Afraid of the cat.’
‘No you arc not. The cat never hurt you or
anybody else.’
‘i am afraid of the milkman. You said ho
would carry me off.’
‘The milkman is not down stairs,’ said Mrs.
Howard, her face beginning to crimson ; ‘he only
comes in the morning.’
‘Yes he is. 1 heard his wagon a little while
ago, and he’s talking with Jane now. Don’t you
hear him?’ said the little fellow with remarkable
skill, having all the resemblance of truth in his
tone and expression.
Mrs Howard did not look towards her uncle ;
she was afraid to do that.
‘Willie,’ the mother spoke very seriously, ‘you
know the milkman is not down stairs, and you
know that you are not afraid of the cat. What
you have said therefore, is not true: and it is
wicked to utter a falsehood.’
•Jlo! ho!’ laughed out the brighteyed little fel
low, evidently amused at his own sharpness,‘then
you arc wicked, for you say that which is not true
every dav.’
‘Willie!’
‘The milkman has not carried me off yet.’
There was a world cf meaning in Willie’s lace
and voice.
‘You havn’t whipped me for throwing my cap
out of the window’.
‘Willie!’ ejaculated the astoniswsdmother.
‘D'ye see that?’ and the young rebel drew from
his apron-pocket a fine mosaic breast-pin, which
lie,had positively been forbidden to touch and held
it up with a mingled look of triumpu and defiance.
‘You little wretch!’ exclaimed Mi’s. Howard,
‘this is going too far;’ and springing toward her
boy, she grappled him in her arms and fled with
her struggling burden from the room.
It was a quarter of an hour before she
alone, to the apartment where she had left Tier
uncle. Ilev face was sober, and her eyesbetrayed
recent tears.
‘Wheat or tares, Fanny?’ said tbe old gentle
man, in kind but earnest tones, as his niece came
back.
‘Tares,’ was the half mournful response.
‘Wheat wore better, Fanny.’
T see it, uncle.’
‘And you will look well in the future to the seed
in your hand,-ere you scatter it upon the heart of
your child.’
‘God helping, I will, dear uncle.’
‘Remember, Fanny,’ said Mr. Lincoln, ‘that
truth and obedience are good seed. Plant them,
and the harvest will conic in blessings.
Mysteries of tbe Room of (he Queen Portugal’s Toil
ette. —A frightful discovery was made in the Queen
of Portugal, after she quitted Brussels. Two or
three fine ladies of that capital, being inquisitive
about royalty, searched every hole and corner of
the bedroom her majesty occupied. They found
a large plait of false hair for the back ot tlio
head, hair dye, white paint and rouge. The
Queen of Portugal is not yet twenty years old.
The young king, her husbarfß, behaved rathe)
ungallant ; on her arrival, he dies not join her
until she had been in Lisbon an hour, bf ’ 1 “o
engaged in council when she reached the qua} .
Extraordinary Bh-ths. —It is stated bv Bui dock
that the wife of a countryman m
tained the following announcement : Mam Ann
Helen the wife of a poor linen weaver in Neulev
chenfeld, twenty years married, boro at eleven
confinements thirty-two childyen-twenty-eight
liv inff and four dead ; twenty-six were males and
six females ; all were begotten by one man, and
■nursed by herself. She had at her last confine
ment three children, one living and two dead.
Her husband was a twin, she herself one of four.
Her mother had produced thirty-eight children,
and died during a confinemt with twins. The
greatest number of children ever produced at one
birth appears to have been six, all of whom were
boys, and all dead. The woman who gave bMtyi
to them had been twice married, and had already
given birth to forty-four children, during her first
marriage, which lasted twenty-two years, she bore
twenty-seven boys and three girls ; in her second
marriage, which lasted but three years, she bore
fourteen children —three at the first, five at the
second, and six at the third confinement.
Not a year ago the Press was against Lottery
systems and Lottery tickets, denounced it all’ as
gambling and swindling.
Not a month ago the Press lieroieed the Father
of all Lotteries, South, and with a few exceptions,
the Press lias dope and said more for the names
of Sam’l Swan & Cos., than ever was said and done
for the Hero of Lundy’s Lane, or New Orleans, all
by tfa Prm and nil to tht dvsr pQtylt’