Newspaper Page Text
LITERARY
Semple
PENFIELD, GEORGIA.
O/Jtui4(/ay Q/ffiotneny,
Ij. IiINCOLN VE AZKV - ~KDITOK
Among the graduates of the Law School at the
University of Virginia, wo notice the name of
Isaiah S. Stephens, of Newnan, Georgia,
Thomas M. Turner Esq. has been elected May
or of the city of Savannah, to till the vacancy oc
casioned by the death of the Hon. Richard Wayne.
The Clarksville Chronicle learns that the pros
pect for a large and fine crop of tobacco, from the
country tributary to Clarksville, is very flattering
indeed.
Col. Nelson Tift, for many years the editor and
proprietor of the Albany Patriot, has disposed of
it to A. J. Macarthy, Esq. who will in future con
duct its editorial management.
The Newnan Banner <£• Sentinel, of August 6th.,
says it has been requested to give notice that a
public meeting of the citizens of Coweta county
will be held at Newnan, on the Bth of September
to take measures to memorialise the legislature to
abolish the Supreme Court of Georgia.
- •
For two weeks past the weather has been in
tensely warm. At this immediate locality, we
have, during that time, had several showers, but
in a large portion of the county, the want of rain
is being severely felt, and farmers are indulging
gloomy apprehensions in regard to their cotton
and small crops.
Very practical, very philosophical is the follow
ing, which we clip from a clever essay-like column
in the Chicago Journal:
“If a man die, shall he live again?” And once
ft year have daises answered it, and * springs lit
tle infant’ givens it testimony; and every day
has morning testified, and yet the murmuring
still, “if a man die, shall he live again ?”
Objects present more distinct and beautiful out
lines with a back-ground of dark cloud, than of
clear sky. There is often a contrast of color, as
well as of form, which gives a heightened loveli
ness. Thus is it with life. Its ills and sorrows
must come to all, but the darkness which they
cast over our sky brings out in clearer perspective
our virtues and the joys which are here and there
interspersed.
Speaking of the photographic copy of the De
claration of Independence taken upon a surface
no larger than a pins head, which may now be
seen in Salem, and can be read with a powerful
microscope, the Salem Gazette says:
When such success in reducing the size of
documents and likenesses has been attained by
the photograph art, it is easy to imagine what
might be accomplished in the time of war by the
microscope. The most important official docu
ment could be contained in an ordinary vest but
ton, and worn with impunity by a spy in an ene
my’s camp, or by a traitor eager to injure an active
army of his own country.
Seeing the world and knowing it are very dif
ferent things. A man may tread every plain,
climb every mountain, follow the winding course
of every river, view every landscape upon the
wide earth, and yet be as ignorant of himself and
his kind as when he first began. Those who
have understood human nature mrst profoundly
and analyzed all its varied springs of action, have
not been those who have seen it in the most nu
merous phases. The philosopher in the retire
ment of his study, reads the human heart with a
clearer insight than he who is constantly amid
the stirring crowd.
Fielding says, “ many men who, in all other
instances want common sense, are very machiavels
in the art of loving.” This, if true in his day, is
infinitely more true at the present time, when
but little of what glitters is pure gold. A good
form, a face of effeminate beauty, brass, and fine
clothes, will win smiles unsought, in bounteous
profusion from the fair. We need not be at all
surprised at seeing women of known worth marry
brainless dandies. It requires more penetration
than falls to the lot of most women to discover a
rascal or a fool through those disguises which
good breeding produces, especially when set off
by the charms of real or imputed wealth.
We were disappointed, sadly so, in the antici
pated visit of Mrs. Bryan to our place during the
late Commencement of Mercer University. But
the poignancy of our regret at this disappoint
ment has been in some degree relieved, by the
reception of an elegant ambrotype of herself.
Though we must confess to disappointment in
the style of her beauty, this likeness proclaims
her eminently a, fine looking woman. It was execu
ted by C. 11. Remington, of Thomasville, and
though we are unable to judge of its faithfulness,
the neatness of its finish induces us to believe that
he is an excellent artist. We thank the fair
donor for this present, and assure her that we
consider it an invaluable souvenir.
- .
Tho true secret of conversational ability lies,
not in talking, but in listening. It has been re
remarked of Burr, that he never said a great deal:
yet, he fascinated every one who fell into his so
ciety. This resulted mainly from the interested
and appreciative attention which he paid to what
others had to say. I)r. Johnson was an example
of an entirely opposite quality. lie could talk
much and ably, conveying a vast amount of in
formation in regard to any subject on which he
chose to converse. But his power lay only in
speaking. He could not listen with any degree
of patience, and consequently his society afforded
sincere pleasure only to such sycophants as Bos
well. He who assumes more than one-half of the
conversation may instruct, but can never truly
interest.
Every man who has sense enough to appreciate
a woman’s worth, and energy and industry enough
to support her, and virtue and intelligence enough
to train up his children in the way they should
go —every such man, we say, should marry. And
every woman who is able to comprehend the value
of a good husband, and love enough to prompt
her to cheer him in his time of trial and weari
ness, and generosity enough to prevent her from
making him the slave of her extravagance—every
such woman, we say, should marry.
Alas for poor human nature, did none marry
but such as are"described above. Matrimomny,
would soon be a forgotten institution and the
world a wilderness. There are such men and
women, doubtless, and they are “the salt of the
earth;” but who know themselves possessed of
the requisite qualifications ? It demands far more
of self-knowledge than falls to the generality of
mortals. For instance, who of the present day
ean tell whether or not he has energy and indus
try to support a wife? These qualities, though
*fioble and valuable, would do but little in sup
plying the wardrobes even of country damsels, to
say nothing of first-water fashionables. Let no
young man be so imprudent as to “commit mat
rimony” with no other reliance than his “energy
and industry.” These, though never so patient
and untiring, would soon be converted into laces
and silks, and stilj the ery of “ nothing to wear”
fef Ett&g in fci§ ear by an angry spouse. J
THE seasons of commencements is now about
over. Tho gay throngs that flocked to these
“ literary festivals” have retired again to their
homes, or have gone to end the summer at some
fashionable watering place. As the excitement
which they produced has now passed away, we
may indulge in some sober reflections concerning
the design of these annual gatherings around
every seat of learning, and what they actually ac
complish. We claim to be utilitarian in this as
in every other particular, but our notions of
utility are not confined strictly to what will pro
duce wealth or impart wisdom. Those innocent
recreations which some consider foolish and prof
itless, are really as necessary as the most arduous
labors; for they recuperate the body and re-m
----vigorate the mind, and prepare both for exertion.
But that combination of the pleasant and useful
which is often attempted is not always good pol
icy. Either one or the other will predominate to
the detriment of the opposing interest. Os these
two, profit or pleasure, that one will be paramount
which those engaged in the pursuit are most de
sirous of obtaining.
It is a fact to be regretted, that the crowds who
attend the annual exhibitions of our schools are
much more bent upon enjoyment than upon giv
ing or receiving any benefit. To see and be seen,
to gallant and be gallanted, to talk and be talked
to, are their principal, if not their only aims. A
few go to hear and examine, to estimate the mer
its of the educational system to which youth have
been subjected, and to decide as to the claims of
an institution upon the public for support. But
as these are largely outnumbered by the talkers
and laughers, their opportunities for hearing are
but slender. Nothing save exhibitions of low,
coarse wit on the part of the speaker, can for a
moment gain the attention of these latter. 1 er
vid strains of eloquence, the bright gems of poetic
thought and charming graces of rhetoric are dis
played before them only to be unheeded. They
believe they are giving their encouragement to
the cause of education; and so they are, by their
presence, and by that alone. Were the annual
exhibitions of our schools attended more largely
by a different class—by the old, who can appreci
ate, rather than the young, who seek frivolous
gayety—our educational system would be much
improved. There would be more substantial
worth and less of that tinsel glitter so character
istic of the present age. The school-room would
impart practical truths and give a practical train
ing, and the transfer thence to the real scenes of
labor would not be so much like a change from a
couch of roses to a bed of thorns.
Another objection to the assemblage of immense
crowds once or twice a-year to witness the public
exercises of schools, is found in the large amount
of time and labor wasted in preparing for these
occasions. In the case of public examinations,
this evil has become so apparent that they are
now being generally discontinued. The plan of
drilling pupils half the year on what they under
stand sufficiently well, in order to make a show on
one day, is too absurd to be tolerated when once
exposed. But in all public exhibitions, time and
trouble are expended by the student, far more
than commensurate with the profit derived there
from. Besides, people aie too much disposed to
consider these exhibitions indices of excellence
in an institution or ability in a teacher. At best,
the criterion is very uncertain. The opportuni
ties for cheating are too ample, and the tempta
tion too great for a student to display himself in
other than a favorable aspect. The composition
for whose graceful diction and elegant train of
thought he is lauded without bounds, is often the
work of other brains which he has purloined.
An objection equally just to the assemblage of
such vast multitudes at school examinations and
exhibitions is, that it gives youth an undue idea
of their own importance. The praises which are
bestowed upon the young are always relative;
but by them it is not so understood. When they
are told that at times they have spoken elo
quently and thought profoundly, they take the
terms in their full import. Consequently, the/
enter the world with false impressions of their
talents and abilities which it requires years of
bitter experience to efface.
But what is to be done to remedy these evils,
someone will inquire. Support must be given
to the cause of learning, pupils must be encour
aged and teachers sustained. Well, do all this,
but do it with less confusion and less eclat. Let
our school examinations cease to be made seasons
of pleasure, then they will be more justly appre
ciated, and when honor is bestowed, it will be
more deserved.
The World. —The following was one of the late
Major Noah’s stories:
“Sir, bring me a’good plain dinner,” said a mel
ancholy looking individual to a waiter at one of our
principal hotels.
‘ Yes sir.”
The dinner was brought and devoured, and the
eater called the landlord aside, and thus addressed
him —
“You are landlord ?”
“ Yes.”
“ You do a good business hei*e?”
“Yes,” (in astonishment.)
“You make—probably—ten dollars a day clear?”
“ Yes.”
“Then I am safe. I cannot pay for what I
have consumed ; I have been out of employment
seven months; but I have engaged to go to work
to-morrow. I had been without food four and
twenty hours when I entered your place. I will
pay you in a week.”
“ 1 cannot pay my bills with such promises,
blustered the landlord; “and I do not keep a
poor house. You should, address the proper au
thorities. Leave me something for security.
“ I have nothing.”
“I will take your coat.”
“ If I go into the streets without that, I will get
my death such weather as this.”
“ You should have thought of that before you
eame here.”
“ You are serious ? Well, I will solemnly aver
that one .veek from now I will pay you.”
“ I will take the coat.”
The coat was left, and a week afterwards re
deemed.
Seven years after that, a wealthy man entered
the political arena and was presented at a caucus
as an applicant for Congressional nomination.
Ihe principal of the caucus held his peace—he
heard the name and the history of the applicant,
who was a member of the church, and one of the
mast respectable citizens. He was chairman.
I he vote was a tie, and he cast a negative—there
by defeating the wealthy applicant, whom lie met
an hour afterwards, and to whom he said—
“ You don’t remember me?”
“No.”
“I once ate a dinner in your hotel, an though
I told you I was famishing and pledged my word
and honor to pay you in a week, you took my
coat aud saw me go out into the inclement air, at
the risk of my life, without it.
“ Well sir, what then?”
“Not much. You call yourself a Christian.
To-night you were a candidate for nomination,
and but for me you would have been elected to
Congress.”
Three years after the Christian hotel keeper be
came bankrupt. The poor dinnerless wretch that
was, is now a high functionary in Albany, We
know him well. The ways of Providence are in
deed wonderful, and tho world’s mutations al
most beyond conception or belief.
Christian Fellowship. —ln one of the last of his
published works, Dr. Archibald Alexander makes
this remark:
“ The author in a long life has found that real
Christians agree much more perfectly in experi
mental religion, than they do in speculative points;
and it is his belief, that a more intimate acquain
tance among Christians of different denominations,
would have a happy tendency to unite them more
j elosely in the bonds of brotherly love.
YOU detest flattery, you say. Everybody says
so, and we have no doubt they do, in theory,
but in reality, it is as sweet to their souls as the
balm of Gilead. Ask a young lady if she dislikes
flattery. “Oh yes; very much,” is her ready res
ponse ; yet, she will listen for hours with ill-con
cealed delight to the second-hand compliments
of a brainless fop who, if he has one spark of
sense, chuckles inwardly over her gullibility.
Her weak, languid eyes are compared to twink
ling stars in their brilliance, her sallow cheeks
are called fields where roses and lilies alternately
struggle for victory, and her harsh voice is said
to rival in sweetness, symphonies played upon
the harps of Heaven. He pronounces her a Ve
nus in graceful beauty, a Minerva in wisdom, and
a Juno in the queenly majesty of her bearing.
A smile, he assures her, spreads over her counte
nance like the blushing beauty of a rising morn,
and her face is always “a tablet of unutterable
thoughts.” All this, and far more, he pours into
her ear, and as she eagerly drinks it in, her whole
being is filled with delight.
Ask that mild, quiet mother if she loves flat
tery. No; she cannot tolerate it, and can con
ceive of no form which it could assume to be ac
ceptable. Praise her children; take up that
great dirty-faced, tow-headed boy, speak in en
thusiastic terms of his bright eyes, massive fore
head, and predict his advent into the councils of
his country. Touch the cheek of that tall, pale,
scrawny girl, admire the elegance of her form and
the delicacy of her complexion, and though the
mother may not believe one word of what you
say, every nerve will thrill with intense pleasure.
These instances are those of a vain girl, and a
weak, though, perhaps, sensible mother. But are
those who call themselves the strong of earth less
lovers of flattery, or less liable to be imposed upon
by its seductive insinuations? Can that states
man who has directed the helm of the nation
and held thronged assemblies enchained by his
eloquence resist its influence ? Could his motives
be analyzed, it would be ascertained that he is
cajoled by flattery into the performance of things
which his judgment disapproves. Many unde
serving applicants for his favor have “ bent the
pregnant hinges of the knee,’’ and thus attained
office and honor.
We might increase illustrations to an indefinite
extent; but we have said enough already on a
theme so trite. We have heard of men who could
not endure flattery in any form ; we have read
of those who loved candor for its own sake, and
who preferred an unwelcome truth to a pleasant
falsehood; but so far as our observation has ex
tended, those are mythical characters. We have
found that all men are vain enough to love flat
tery and weak enough to be swayed by its influ
ence.
rriIERE is something inexpressibly solemn in the
A first sere leaf which we behold. It has al*
ready fallen, and now we can scarce find a tree
amid the deep emerald of which there is not
some spot of yellow. They speak a language full
of sadness, telling that summer is rapidly passing
away, and autumn will soon be here with its dark
days and chilly breath. They come unwelcome
messengers ; for their announcement weighs upon
the soul in dark, gloomy heaviness.
The first falling leaf. It is a small object; yet,
it awakens a thousand tender recollections, and
brings up a thousand sweet, though melancholy,
thoughts. The infant*whose pure spirit passed
into eternity before its lips had learned to lisp a
prayer or speak a parent’s name; the loved com
panion of school days who was stricken down
and laid in the cold grave, and all those whom
earth has laid in their freshness and beauty as
first-fruits on the altar of Heaven, rise up to our
view. How well do we now remember the first
companion of our early years, whom Death em
braced with cold, icy arm. Her spirit was pure
and free from guile, and she shrank not at his
touch, but yielded herself calmly to his power.
They buried her all alone, where the tall pines
waved their branches in sombreness, and scarce
a ray of sunlight stole through to give life to the
flower which sprang up on the sod that covers
her head. But since then, mother and brothers
and sisters have lain down by her, and with th em
she will rise when the trump shall sound the res
urrection morn.
The first leaf has fallen ; every breeze that now
passes loosens one from its parent tree and flings
it to the ground to aie. Soon all will oe scat
tered, and the naked branches will tremble and
moan in the rough hyemal storm. How bleak
and cold and dreary is the winter of the year;
how still more so must be the winter of life, when
all whom our youth has loved and our manhood
cherished have fallen, one by one, on the way
side, and the foot-sore pilgrim must finish” his
journey in solitude.
“ When friendships lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh ! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?”
Mr. Dusky, a contributor of Blackwood, in giv
ing mock-seriously his opinions of art in general,
thus speaks of the paintings of the present year:
The first thing that strikes me, in the work of
the present year, is, that though all other seasons
and times of the day are produced in landscape
(except the pitch dark of a winters’s night, which
it would be difficult for any one, in the present
state of art, to place satisfactorily on canvass) yet
that particular state of the atmosphere which ex
ists in the month of August from about five min
utes before two to about twenty minutes alter,
when the sun’s sultry and lavish splendor is tinged
with some foreboding of his decline, and when
Nature is, as it were, taking her siesta, is nowhere
sought to be conveyed. I thought, on first look
ing at a small picture in the east room of the Acad
emy, that this hiatus had been filled up; but, on
further study, I perceived that the picture in ques
tion had beer. painted rather earlier (abont five
and twenty minutes before two is the time I should
assign to it) and is therefore deficient in many of
the cheif characteristics of the remarkable period
I allude to. How comes it, too, that, anncl all the
rendering of grass and flowers, there is not a
single dandelion—a flower which has often given
to me, no less than to Wordsworth, thoughts
that do often lie too deep lor tears; nor a group
of toadstools, which can give interest to a lore
ground else bald and barren ; nor, among the
minute studies of insects, daddy-long-legs swaying
delightedly across the path, and dancing to mau
dible music, as the mid-day zephyr waves the
slender fabric of his gossamer home, lam sur
prised. too, to find (so far as my survey has ena
bled me to note) that there are nowhere any
frogs, though every artist who painted out doors
the first warm days of spring must have
heard their choral music from the neighbonng
ditches. The old heralds, speaking of the man
ner of the frogs holding his head, talk of the
pride and dignity, or, as they phrase it, the
lording” of frogs, and gave them a place ill her
aldry ; and their ideas are generally valuable to
artists, and worth studying, both for their liteial
exactness and their allegorical significance. Let
us have some frogs next year.
It appears from the following item that one of
the Rothchilds, notorious for their wealth, lias
been drawing a prize in a lottery. May not this
fact give US a clue to the method adopted by
these Jews to obtain their gold:
Baron Rothschild (the Vienna one) has been
declared winner in the “lottery of St. Genois to
the amount of 73,000 florins. It is needless to add
that servant maids, washerwoman, and simple
tons of humble life have made up this purse tor
the great capitalist.
A certain dissatisfied wife says that her husband
is such a blunderer that he can’t even try a boot
or a shoe on without “ putting his foot into it.”
A nail in the ink-stand or some old steel pens
that the acid of the ink can eat upon, will.prevent
steel pens in use from being rusty ;
ONE heart knoweth not another’s sorrow. We
may see pain written on the brow, witness
tho convulsive struggles of grief, and hear the an
guished sigh ; we may hear the sad moanings of
the soul in whom the milk of human kindness
has been converted by the world’s rude touch,
into waters of bitterness; we may read the mad
dened wailings of a heart that has found its faith
to be misplaced, has had its idol rudely thrown
from its pedestal, and that, though broken, has
“brokenly lived on;” we may have seen and
heard all this, and our whole being the while
have been stirred by deepest sympathy ; and yet,
we have not known another’s woe.
One heart feels not another’s woe. Not that
all natures resist the tender pulse of sympathy
which brings happiness in whatsoever breast it
beats. But our sympathy with the sorrows of
others is more pleasant than painful, and we se
cretly rejoice at our superiority over those for
whom we shed tears. There is between us no
magic line that conveys with telegraphic speed
the deep-wrought aneuisli of their souls to ours.
Wo read the outward signs of suffering, but know
not what is within.
Too often, alas! is it that one heart careth not
for another’s woe. Sorrows fall thick and fast
among all our race, without favor or respect of
persons. Here a young mother hugs to her bosom
the lifeless form of her first-born, and thinks all
other griefs were light to this. There the fond,
doting wife sheds tears distilled in purity from
the fountain of her affections, over the grave of
one whom her soul has held most dear. Another
weeps in secret over the perished hopes which
treachery, more cruel than death itself, has
blighted. But amid all these the world moves
on, sometimes gaily, sometimes busily, but always
uncaring for the woes which continually send up
their heart-rending sighs and deep moanings of
anguish.
A Beautilul Extract.—The following paragraphs
from the May number of the Wisconsin Farmer,
were written by Prof. J. W. Hoyt, one of its ed
itors. They contain both poetry and sublime
truth. The article from which we clip them is
upon “The Plant—Sources and Nature of its
Food,” and contains more interesting facts on the
■ubjcct of agriculture than many writers would
condense into an ordinary volume. He says:
“To the majority of men, we are satisfied the
sail is nothing but dirt ; but to the chemist who
knows its origin, its history, its nature and its ca
pabilties, it is a wonderful mixture of those beau
tiful elements which, in their ever-varying forms,
become the ambient air, the liquid ocean, the
precious opal, the amethyst, the jasper, and
the still more precious diamond ; or the delicate
blue-bell and violet, the amaranth, the lily and
the rose-bud, the spire of the blue-grass, and the
cedar of Lebanon ; or again theruby lip, the match
less orb of the love-lit eye, the nobly palpitating
heart, and yet more wonderful brain!
“These are the jewels of which the soil is com
posed, and out of which the husbandman so un
heedingly strives to force the food his hunger
craves.
“ Henceforth, as he turns the furrows of his
field, let the sleep of his thought be broken of the
reflection : This earth, thus stirred by my plough
share is doubtless composed in part of the ashes
of ancestral heroes, whose mortal remains are
the plastic material out of which we are building
the bodies of the men of to-day !”
James Monroe was a country boy of Westmore
land, the countryman of Washington. From the
eighteenth to the seventy-third year of his age (for
fifty-five years) he was almost incessantly in the
public service. At eighteen he left his letters and
science, his Horace and his Homer, at William and
Mary, to enlistin the battle fields ofindependence.
He took a commission low down, next to the ranks,
was severely wounded before he rose to a higher
rank than that of Captain, and never rose higher
in the line of the military. In the staff of Lord Stirl
ing was an Aid de Camp, and acquired the title of
Colonel of a regiment of Virginia, which was never
raised. He was a Commissioner of Virginia to the
Southern Camp. He was a Legislator of Virginia.
He was was a member of the Continental Congress.
He was a member of the Convention of Virginia to
adopt the Federal Constitution. He was a Sena
tor of Virginia in Congress. He was a Minister
to France. He was twice Governor of Virginia,
lie was again Minister to Franee, Minister to Eng
land, and to Spain, and again to England. He
was (Secretary of State, and in the war of “ Free
Trade and Sailors’ Rights,” for which he had con
tended as early as 1807, he was Secretary of both
Treasury and War. He was twice elected Presi
dent of the United States, and once almost unan
imously. And from the height of the Chief Mag
istrate of the nation he again descended to the
ranks of the People, and became a Magistrate
of the Quorum of Gentlemen Jrstices of the Peace
for the county of Loudoun. And, lastly, in the
years 1829-’3O he was President of the first Con
vention of Virginia to reform the Constitution of
the State.
This last post infirmity and old age compelled
him to resign; and then, in 1830, his course run,
his good fight fought, full of years and full of hon
ors, the great and good old man retired to the
bosom of his family, in the State of his adoption.
There he had told the tale of his youthful love—
there he had inhaled the perfume of the conjugal
affection—there he had married the wife of his
bosom—there he had buried her—there his chil
dren were settled—and there, weary and heavy
with labors and years, he sought repose. Soldier,
Legislator, Commissioner, Diplomat, Statesman,
President, Justice of the Peace, Conventionist
and Constitutionalist, he had filled every measure
of public place, and filled it well, and had re
ceived nearly $400,000 of Slate and Federal pay,
and yet retired poor—a debtor for the Government,
not to it—having spent all, and more than all, his
substance in his country’s service, and went out of
her high places an Honest Man, impoverished by
his self sacrificing patriotism! He became in
volved in debt by pledging his private means for
the defence of the country in the war of 1812, and
died before a grateful return was ever made. The
full debt to him never was, and now never can be
repaid.
Trees. —“Woodman, spare that tree,” popular
as it may be in song, ought to be more familiar
and popular with all who are possessors of trees.
How beautiful, most beautiful of earth’s orna
ments, are trees? Waving out on the hills and
down in the valleys, in wild wood or orchard, o r
singly by the wayside ; God’s spirit and benizon
seem to us everpresent in trees. For theirshadc
and shelter to man and brute, for the music the
winds make among their leaves, and the birds in
their branches; for the fruits and flowers they
bear to delight the pallate and the eye, and the
fragrance that goes out ancl upward from them
forever, we are worshipful of trees.
“Under his own vine and fig tree”—what more
expressive of rest, independence and lordship in
the earth! Well may the Arab reverence in the
date-palm a God-given source of sustenance.
Dear to the Spaniard tho olive, and to the Hindoo
his banyan, wherein dwell the families of man
and tho Heaven build their nests. With
out trees what a desert place would be our earth
—naked, parched, and hateful to the eye. Yet
how many are thoughtless of the use and beauty
of trees. llow many strike idly or wantonly at
their roots. Above all other things in the land
scape, we would deal gently with trees. Most
beautiful where and as God plants them, but
beautiful even as planted by the poorest art of
man, trees should be protected ana preserved.
If ho is a benefactor who causes two blades of
grass to grow where one grew before, how much
greater his beneficence who plants a tree in some
waste place, to shelter and shade, to draw thither
song birds, and to bear fruit for man. Plant
trees, O man, that hast waste land, and be care
ful of those that are planted.
‘ W idi to
Woman’s Heart.— There is a period inthe.early
life of every true woman when moral and intel
lectual growth seems, for the time, to cease. The
vacant heart seeks for an occupant. Theintelleot
having appropriated suoli aliment as was. requi
site to the growth of the uncrowned feminine na
ture feels the necessity of more intimate compan
ionship with the masculine mind to start it upon
its second period of development. Here at this
point, some stand for years without making a
step in advance. Othew marry and astonish, in
a sow brief years by tlflKr sweet temper, their
beauty, their high accomplishments, and noble
womanhood, those whose blindness led them to
suppose they were among the incurably heartless
and frivolous.
The Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, the wonderful pul-
I pit orator, contemplates visiting the United
States.
Colonel Pickens, United States Envoy to Russia,
passed through Berlin on the 2d ultimo, en route
for St. Petersburg.
The Governor-General of Canada gets §31,000
per annum six thousand dollars more than the
President of the United States gets.
Much excitement exists in Cincinnati, at tlic
I cruelty practised towards the inmates of the Lu
j natic Asylum in that city, by the keepers.
Peaches, -ays the Cincinnatti Gazette of Thurs
day, about as large as walnuts, sold in the market
on the day previous at eight dollars per bushel!
It is said that ivy will not cling to a poisonous tree
or other substance. What a pity that the tendrils
of woman's heart have not the same salutary in
stinct.
“When a woman has once married with a con
gealing heart, and one that beats responsible to
her own, she will never want to enter the mari
time state again.
A mania of suicide prevails among the Asiatics
on the island of Cuba. Almost every paper con
tains accounts of suicides of Coolies by hanging,
poisoning, drowning, &c.
Anew stove has been invented for the comfort
of travellers; it is to be put under the feet, with a
mustard plaster on the head, which draws the
heat through the whole system.
When Lady Holland wanted to get rid of a fop,
she used to say, “ 1 beg your pardon, but I wish
you would sit a little further off —there is some
thing in your handkerchief which I do not like.”
A Railroad Convention is to be held at Decatur,
Alabama, on the 18th of August inst., to take
into consideration the subject of extending the
Tennessee and Alabama Central Railroad to South
Alabama.
Prentice, of the Louisville Journal, thus hits the
present fashion of low neck dresses. lie says:
“ It is supposed that angels do not wear dresses.
Our fashionable ladies are getting more and more
angelic every year.
We are sorry to learn, says the Florence Gazette,
that the distinguished guest of our town, Colonel
Yancey, is confined to his bed, at the Rev. Dr.
Mitchell’s, with a painful and enfeebling di-easc,
“sympathetic neuralgia.”
Among the arrivals in the North Star at New
York from Bremen and Southampton on the 14th
were H. R. Jackson, United States minister to
Vienna; Mr. Glantz, consul at Stettin, and Dr. G.
11. Taylor, bearer of dispatches.
Within the last twenty years upwards of fifty
colleges i; vi h. ,n founded. There are now in
the United Slates a hundred and twenty-four col
leges anil ui.dies, with an aggregate number
of students of fourteen thousand.
G. P. R. James, Esq., has been tendered the
appointment of Consul General at Venice, which,
it is probable he will accept. The previous offer
to him of the consulship at Odessa, he had notac
eepted, on account the insalubrity of the place.
A statement having been made that Washing
ton Irving, and not John Howard Payne, was the
author of “Home, Sweet Home,” Mr. Irving has
written a letter disclaiming the authorship, to the
honor of which he thinks Mr. Payne is undoubt
tedly entitled.
The French minister of State has informed the
managers of theatres at Paris that the censors
have orders to strike out” hereafter all slang from
plays, and no piece will be licensed which con
tains slang. The motive is to protect the purity
of the language.
A writer in the New York Journal of Commerce
suggests the word “electrograph,” as a substitute
for “telegraphic dispatch,” and “telegram.” The
latter means only a communication by siguals as
far as can be seen, while the former literally sig
nifies writing by lightning.
What a beautiful virtue is benevolence! It is
a precious tie existing between man and man as
children of one common father—a tie wholly un
affected by difference of age, station, kindred, or
country, and over which the artificial distinctions
of a vain ivorld have little power.
Mrs. Marcet, one of the most valuable writers
for the young, authoress of “ Conversations on Po
litical Economy, Natural Philosophy, and Physi
olgy,” and a number of other works tending to
render the study of science attractive to youthful
minds, died suddenly in the 90th year of her
age.
A young lady who wore spectacles, exclaimed
in a voice of sentimental enthusiasm to a young
ploughman who was walking in the road : “Do
you, sir, appreciate the beauty of that land-scape ?
Oh ! see those darling sheep and lambs skipping
about!” “Them ain’t sheep and lambs—them’s
hogs, Miss.”
Professor J. H. Ingraham formerly -a novelist
and the writer of some celebrity, but who has
been for several years past a clergymen of the
Protestant Episcopal Church, has recently received
a call as rector of Christ Church, Holly Springs,
Mississippi, and also to the charge of the school in
that town, known as St. Thomas Hall.
A prudent and well disposed member of the So
ciety of Friends once gave the following advice :
“John,” said lie, “I hear you are going to get
married?” “Yes,” replied John, “I am." —
“ Well,” replied the man of drab, “ I have a little
piece of advice to give thee, and that is, never mar
ry a woman worth more than thou art. When I
married my wife, I was worth fifty cents, and she
was worth sixty-two cents, and whenever any dif
ference hasoccuired between us since, she has al
ways thrown up the od l shilling.”
A Kind Heart.—Lord Nelson, when forced to
see men whipped on board his ship,'ascended to
the deck precipitately, read rapidly, and in an
agitated voice, the rales of the service, and then
cried “ Boatswain to your duty; admiral par
don !” Lord Nelson would then look around at
his officers—all keeping silence, he would say,
“What! notone of you, gentlemen, not one of
you has pity upon that man, or upon my suffei
ings ! Untie the man—my brave fellow, on the
day of battle remember me !’’ It was very rarely
that the sailor thus rescued by his admiral did not
distinguish himself at a later period. One day a
man was going to be whipped. He was a marine.
A beautiful young girl sprang through the crowd
of soldiers ; she fell on her knees before Nelson,
and seized his hand, “Pardon, your honor,”
said she, “pardon, he will never be guilty again !”
“Your face,” said the admiral, “ answeirs for his
future good conduct. Untie that man ; he who
has such a beautiful creature as this for a friend
cannot be a bad man.” This* marine became a
lieutenant.
It was hard to catch “Old Jack Jones,” in a
place too tight for him to slip out. Tlie following
occurred last week at Cedar town Court. There had
been a very heavy frost the night before, and
some ot the knowing ones prophesied an entire
failure'of the wheat crop.
“ I have got 100 acres,” says Old Jack, “ that
I’ll take SIOO for.”
“ 1 )one! I’ll give it, and hand you the money in
an hour,” said Mitcliel.
Before the expiration of the hour, a negro from
the plantation reported the wheat unii\jured, and
Mitchel advanced money in hand.
“ Thank you,” says Jones. “ When will y° u
take your wheat away ?”
“ Take it away ? Why as soon as its ripe.”
“No you don't! you must cut it this week. ±
want to plough up that field and put it into corn.
Carrying Deadly’ Weapons. —The Baltimore
American has some judicious remarks on this su
ject suggested by the recent occurrence m Balti
more, in which young Farlow met his death.
Here were two lads, both provided with pistols,
both reckless in the use of them, a dispute oc
curs, and with means of death at hand, in tne
heat of passion one kills the other, destroyed the
peace of the family of the deceased, torturing the
hearts of his own friends, and consigning himself
to the horrors of a jail. “ How littlejustly ex
claims the American, “can the law do to remedy
such a wrong. Admit that the perpetrator is
punished by imprisonment or even death, where
are the feelings of his family, which are to suffer
for the hastiness of a passionate boy, or what pro
per solaoe will his fate bring to the friends of the
deceased? Is it too much to say that the law
which fails to forbid a practice productive of so
much mischief, and the state of public opinioia
which tacitly sanctions the thing, is morally,
though indirectly, accountable for all the evil
, that may spring from it V’
The following neatly-turned and very pretty
j original verses are by a gifted Kentuckyan. Fur
• ther communications from the same pen will bo
welcome:
LITTLE EDNA.
Edna had a happy heart,
Always careless, always free;
Cupid missed her with his dart,
As he hid behind the tree;
And she laughing at his art,
Clapped her little hands with glee.
Edna then was very young.
Always laughing, always gay;
Joyous were the songs she sung.
As she plucked the flowers ol May ;
Nor could ardent lover’s tongue
Steal her little heart away.
Edna she is older now,
Always thoughtful, always sad—
Shades of sorrow on her brow,
That her girlhood never had.
Could a lover tell you how
Love drove little Edna mad ?
Edna laugheth now no more,
Alwaysquiet, always wild;
All forgot her songs of yore,
That her rosy hours beguiled—
Is that Allan at the door ?
Surely little Edna smiled. Selma.
The Sunset Land,
Oh! dimly through the mists of years,
That roll their dreary waves between,
The gorgeous sunset land appears,
Arrayed in hues of fadeless green,
And front that far offsunny clitne,
Old half-forgotten songs arise.
And stealing o'er the waves of Time
The sweetly lingering music dies.
As some bright island of the sea,
Forever blooming—ever lair;
Though cold, dark billows round it be,
Eternal sunshine hovers there.
Thus o’er the silent sea of years,
Our eager longing looks are cast,
Where robed in fadeless spring appears
The sunlit Eden of the past.
There memory weaves her garland green
Beside the lone, hope-haunted shore !
And music ’mid the Arcadian scene,
Twines flowers that bloom for us noniore.
Oh! hallowed clime ! blest land of love !
Sweet paradise of early dreams !
Still through thy vales may fancy rove,
Still hash beneath thy evening beams.
And. there they dwell—those cherished ones
With snow white brows and waving hair ;
I see them now—l hear their tones
Os sweetness 3igh along the air.
Hark ! how their silvery voices ring
Not sweeter is the wind-harp’s string
That wakes at eve its melody.
They call us ; see, they wave their hands—
As by the mirage lifted high,
That clime in all its beauty stands
Against the forehead of the sky.
With wreathed brows —with laugh and song,
With tender looks —hand clasped in hand,
They move along, that love-linked throng—
Within the haunted sunset land.
-
THE OLDEST BIBLE ON THE CONTINENT—A BOOK OVER
NINE HUNDRED YEARS OLD.
The articles which have lately appeared from
time to time in the Free Press, in regard to old
Bibles, have had the effect to bring to our notice
one of the rarest and most valuable specimens of
biblical literature in the world. This is a volume
of six hundred pages, containing the whole Bible
in the Latin language. It belongs to the Rev.
Dr. Duffield, of this city. The book is made en
tirely of vellum, and the printing is all done by
hand with a pen and ink. Every letter is per
fect in its shape, and cannot be distinguished, by
any imperfections in form, from the printed let
ters of the present day. The shape of the letter
is of course different from those now in use, but
in no other case can they be distinguished from
printed matter. The immense amount of labor
may be conceived from the fact that there are
two columns on each page, each of which lacks
only about six letters of being a3 wide as the col
umns of this paper. They will average sixty lines
to the column. The columns numbering 1,200,
we have about 70,000 lines in the whole book.
Nothing short of a lifetime could accomplish
such a work.
The date of this book is A. D. 930. It was con
sequently made 560 years before printing was in
vented, and is 928 years old. There is probably
nothing on this continent, in the shape of a book,
equal to it in age. The vellum upon which it is
printed is of the finest kind, and is made of the
skin of young lambs and kids, dressed and rub
bed with pumice stone until it is very thin. It
is somewhat thicker than common paper, being
a medium between that and the drawing paper
now in use. The veins in the skin are distinctly
visible in many places. A pencil mark was drawn
by the operator to guide the construction of each
line. Many pages have these lines visible on the
whole surface, no effort having been made to rub
them out. Two lines running up and down di
vide the columns with mathematical accuracy.
At the beginning of each chapter, highly colored
ornamental letters are placed. These are the
only marks of the division of chapters. There
are no subdivisions into verses, the chapters run
ning through in one paragraph to the end, and
no descriptive headings.
This invaluable relic was presented to Dr. Duf
field by Lewis Cass, Jr. our Minister resident at
Rome. lie procured it of a Greek monk, who
brought it from the Greek convent of St. Catha
rine, at the foot of Mount Sinai. Mr. Cass be
friended this monk, who was in trouble; and he,
in return, presented him with the volume which
we have described. .According to his history, it
is the work of one of the ancient monk scribes in
the convent above named. When it became
known that Mr. Cass was parting wi*h it, and
that it was going out of the country, the round
sum of §3,000 was offered him for it by the monks
of the city of Rome. This was of course refused,
for the pleasure of placing so inestimable a relic in
the hands of one who can appreciate its value so
well as our learned divine, Dr. Duffield. At the
time of the late fire in the Doctor’s house, this
book was thrown into the street among others,
and came very near being lost. It was picked
up on the sidewalk by one who recognized it as
one of Dr. Duffield's most valuable relics, and
preserved it. — Detroit Free Press.
A Starved Heart.
Two gentlemen stood by the roadside, opposite
a grave-yard. “ And so our old school-mate, Edith
Wynn, is dead,” remarked the elder of the two.
“ 1 remember her, a little, dancing, warbling thing,
yet thoughtful and wise beyond her years. I
heared of her marriage in my Western home, but
since then, have known nothing concerning her.
She died of consumption, did she not?”
“ People call it consumption, but she died ot
cold and starvation,” calmly and slowly replied
the other, the bachelor friend of Edith.
“What do you mean?” asked the first speaker,
eyeing his friend curiously, and not without sus
picion .
“ 1 mean there is a slow freezing and starving
of the heart which, though more lingering, is often
as fatal to life as the lack of bodily warmth and
food.” „
“ I do not fully understand you.
“ You did not know Edith, and love her as 1
did Long before she dreamed of love I had se
1* J wfn,. mv wife- but I kept the sweet se
cret in my own bosom, and toiled to make myself
worthy of her. When she was still very young, I
left home to travel ayear or two. No matter how
it happened, when I returned, she was married.
U was a crushing blow to me, though God only
knows if I could have won her. She married t*
man just one remove from the curious talking au
tomatons the Germans are so fond of manufacture
ing. Ho was ffitellect but no heart.
h*l have met her at intervals, since her marriage
and have seen her gradually changing from the
warm hearted, impulsive, ambitious woman to an
automaton like himself. Outwardly, I mean—for
the anguish of the famishing spirit within, none
can know. He fed and clothed her body, but ig
nored and slighted her affections. They could not
cling to him,-but fixed themselve in a better coun
try, where the All Merciful has taken her at last.
Her husband is erecting a costly slab of marble
to her memory. Heaven forgive the bitter
thought, but if the truth were told upon it, it
would read ‘ Died of a starved heart/”
-
A Definition in Political Economy.— “ Will
you never learn, my dear, the difference between
real and exchangeable value?” The question was
put to a husband who had been lucky enough to be
tied to a political economist in petticoats. “O,
yes, my dear, I think I begin to see it.” “Indeed,”
responded the lady. “ Yes “replied the husband.
“ For instance, my dear, I know your deep learn
ing and other virtues. That’s your real value.
But I know, also, that none of my married friends
would swop wives with me. That’s your exchange
, able value!”