Newspaper Page Text
LITERARY
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PENPIELD, GEORGIA. ‘
TiTT/rNOQIAN VEAZEY^EDm)R
Catharine M. Sims, wife of the Proprietor
of the “Savannah Republican,” died on the 17 th
instant. Her remains were interred in Rose-Hill
Cemetery, Macon.
Green Martin who was indicted for whipping a
negro boy, and convicted of murder at the last
term of Washington county Superior Court, but
got anew trial at the Supreme Court, was tried
last week and acquitted.
We are requested by the corresponding Secre
tary of the Planters’ Club of Hancock, to an
nounce that the Annual Address before the Club,
will be delivered by the Rev. Charles Wallace
Howard, of Cass county, at the Fair on the 27th
October next.
Harper’s Magazine for October contains “ Lieut.
Strain’s Ride over the Andes“ Islands and
Shores of Greece“ Trial and Execution of John
lluss,” and a variety of other articles suited for
light reading. The little poem, “It might have
been,” is a choice gem. Harper is deservedly
the most popular of American monthlies. Price,
$3 a-year.
Those persons who are afflicted with a fond
ness for applying to themselves every pointed
paragraph which they read or hear, ought to be
come very good, for they must be often reminded
of their faults. But it seems that improvement
is not always the result of “ taking things to
themselves.” Some make their own applications
of general remarks, and thereat get as wrathful
as if they had been designed as direct personal
insults.
In our issue of Sept. 2d, there appeared an ar
ticle on “ Music by J. 11. O.” It was so published, j
under the impression that it was from the pen of!
J. H. Oliphant, whose effusions have often graced !
our columns, lie requests us to state, however, ‘
that he is not the author, but that it was written ;
by a young friend of his who favored him with a 1
copy, which he sent us for publication. He made I
this statement, in fact, in the note which accom
panied the manuscript, but being rather hurried
at the time of its reception, we failed to notice it.
We have received a Prospectus of the Alabama
Educational Journal. This is to be a monthly pub
lication of 32 pages, neatly bound, and edited by ‘
N. K. l)avis, late Professor of Natural Science in
Howard College, aided by an able corps of con
tributors. Trof. D. is an elegant and vigorous
writer of fine literary taste, and we have no doubt,
will make the Journal alike worthy of public pat- j
ronage and of the great cause to which it is de- j
voted. Published at Montgomery, Ala. The j
price is to be? 1 a-year, in advance.
Editor in the Country.—The editor of the
Cincinnati Times has been in the country. He
says:
‘The robins sang sweetly from the tree-tops;
the cattle lowed to each other as they luxuriated
among the dew-covered clover; the fields had on
their gayest robes of emerald ; the brooks danced
away in joy; the bob-o-links chattered in the
shrubbery ; the geese waddled sedately towards
their bathing places; the old oaks waved their
arms in conscious strength ; the hills held up
their'heads'in pride; the world blushed in beauty.”
The name of Gen. Geo. P. Morris, the distin-j
guished editor of the Home Journal, and the best
lyric poet now living, has been mentioned in con
nection with the candidacy for representative j
Trom one of the congressional districts of New
York. Gen. M. would, wo have no doubt, make
an efficient member of our National Legislature,
but we have no idea that such an event would
increase his world-wide celebrity. His habits are j
all too decidedly confirmed to admit of his risk
ing his reputation by engaging actively in politi
cal turmoil; and if he did, he is unfitted for
schemes of trickery and intrigue.
Wiiat Woman can do. —Some okl bachelor has
indited the following specimen of masculine im
pertinence. ‘ Hear him:
A woman says what she likes to you without j
danger of getting knocked down for it. She can i
take a snooze after dinner, while her husband
has to go to work. She can go forth in the streets i
without being invited to treat at every coffee j
house. She can paint her face if it is too pale,
and flour it if too red. She can wear corsets if
too thick—other fixins if too thin. She can eat,
drink and be merry, without costing her a cent;
and she can get divorced from her husband when
she sees one she likes better.
“Great Events in 1858.”—Under, this head the
New York Observer ranks four things, as follow
lows:
1. The Revival of Religion; the most extensive
and thorough ever experienced in the L T nited
States.
2. The Triumph of the American Tract Society,
the greatest moral victory of truth over error
achieved since the Reformation under Martin
Luther.
3. The successful completion of the Electric
Telegraph from Europe to America, the greatest
work of human perseverance and enterprise.
4. The opening of China to the commerce of the
world, free toleration of the Christian religion j
throughout the empire.
Pretty well for the first half ot 1858 ; what will
Autumn and Winter bring forth ?
Indianola Courtier has been assured that Sea
Island cotton along the coast of Texas, is turning
out splendid. Both in appearance and texture ■
the staple is remarkably fine, and the yield will i
be large, Col. S. T. Seawell, on Matagoda Island, I
has a beautiful lot of this cottton, for which he ex- j
pects to get one dollar per pound. The Corpus I
Christi Valley says:
The picking of sea Island cotton has been com- :
menced, the yield is proving abundant, besides,
the staple is better than ever seen on the coast.
One field, seven miles from this city, is a sight to
behold—it is little less than a swamp of cotton
plants borne down to the ground by their unusu
al weight of bolls, now in the harvest stage.
A fortune awaits those who choose to engage in
the Sea Island culture in this city—the result j
this season is truly marvelous.
There is in the world much more ambition to ‘
be great than to be good. Many are actuated by i
a desire for distinction so depraved that they j
had rather be notorious than to be unknown. It j
must be acknowledged, that by their manner of
thinking, speaking and writing, people do much j
Ao encourage this feeling. The eclat which a
mean action gains, exceeds the odium. The j
““Gallant Zouave,” by conduct for which lie should
have been bastinadoed, has been quite as much
the theme of newspaper paragraphs as the gifted
Fields who projected and brought to a successful
completion the*Telegraphic Cable. Asew 7 months
since, the whole civilized world were writing and
talking of Rachel. And who was Rachel? A
stage actress, gifted, indeed, with high talents,
possessing a character which her genius could
scarce save from infamy. So it is the world over.
Greatness eclipses goodness, and a distinguished
name often ennobles a vice and endows it with a
power to blight and destroy. *
CANDOR is a principle which men profess al
most universally to appreciate and admire;
yet, there arc few which they more seldom ex
hibit. Some arc bold in expressing themselves
in opposition to the dicta of public opinion; a
few aro determined always to be in the opposi
tion, while the great majority are plausible ; but
a person sincerely and honestly candid is difficult
to find. It is the caso now, and w 7 e fear has al
ways been so, that deception is rewarded with a
premium when successful, while that sterling in
tegrity which neither bends or compromises, is
reckoned at discount.
True candor is most immediately opposed to
deceit of all kinds, but differs not less from the
garrulity which proclaims everything, and the re
serve which tells nothing. It does not require a
man to make a confidant of every one whom he
meets, yet, it forbids him to resort to any decep
tive means of concealing his opinions or princi
ples. Bearing reference to man’s conduct as well
as to his words, it requires that he should, in all
instances, act, as well as speak the truth. Os
course, then, candor implies honesty, though it
is possible to imagine instances in which men
may be honest without being candid. Consum
mate villains sometimes assume an openness and
! familiarity of manner which passes with many for
| frankness, and is regarded as an indication of
! sincerity. One has need, however, to have made
j but few observations of those cases to detect the
i counterfeit. There is a greater excess of honesty
| in their language than their actions will sustain,
’ and sooner or later, according to the capacities
of those upon whom they seek to impose the dis
guise, will be discovered. Their blandness and
apparent truthfulness, when once found to be de
ception, only serve to render them the more con
temptible.
There is another class who make a great affec
tation of candor by saying rough things in a
rough way. Reckless of what feelings they hurt,
they pride themselves on speaking the truth, and
very often this vanity leads them to make harsh
statements which are not true. Such conduct
betrays coarseness, ill-breeding and ill-nature,
but it is not candor. They who act thus are usu
ally false, vacillating in their opinions, and un
worthy of confidence. Between true candor and
j true politeness, there is no antagonism. Candor
j sometimes compels us to utter an unpleasant
j truth rather than a flattering falsehood, but it
never authorizes that to be spoken in a manner
to inflict pain. The formal etiquette which fash
ionable society has established, is all falsehood and
hollowness, making deception a merit and truth
fulness a crime. They are esteemed most polite
who can best conceal their sentiments, and flat
ter with most appearance of sincerity. So things
are, but so they need not boos necessity. One
can be urbane and affable in his manners, pleas
ant in bis intercourse, with his associates, and
manifest a kindly politeness to all, without stoop
ing to flattery and deception. That this is true*
we have some proofs, though it is to be regretted
that the exemplifications are so exceedingly rare.
Some persons think that all the principles of
character receive a natural bent which cannot be
directed or controlled. According to their be
lief, the man who becomes a villain had, by na
ture, a strong tendency in that direction, which
no force of education could overcome. This no
tion, absurd as it is, has been much received, and
lias wrought the ruin of many. No one is a re[i
robate by nature. It is habit which, forming
steadily and by slow degrees, fianally becomes
more unchangeable than the Ethiopian’s skin or
leopard spots. Each man has at first the power
of controlling his habits, and consequently each
man has much to do in forming his own charac
ter. Nature made him neither honest or dishon
est, but left him free to become either. It should
constitute a large portion of his education to form
and establish good habits, and to create, strength
en and sustain good principles. By such a course
of training, all those virtues which beautify the
character may bo made to grow in rich luxuri
ance, and bring forth their fruits in no slight de
gree of perfection. Among these, candor de
serves and will abundantly repay our cultivating
care. It commends itself to our attention, not
alone by its susceptibility of improvement, but
also by the advantages which it confers upon our
selves and others. It will obviate the necessity
of our affecting emotions which wo do not feci,
and lessen our liability to imposition. Were all
men candid, we might believe what they say, and
not trouble ourselves to find motives different from
what their words proclaim.
At a recent meeting of a Pennsylvania Histor
ical Society, the Corresponding Secretary, Hora
tio G. Jones, read a letter written by Dr. Joseph
Iv. Swift, of Easton, Penn., relating a curious in
cident in the life of Benjamin Franklin:
The celebrated painter, Benjamin West, before
lie became known to fame, fell in love with Miss
Elizabeth Shewed. West was poor; theShewells
were rich. Stephen Shewell, the proud brother
of Elizabeth, desired her to marry another suitor,
which she refused to do. West was forbidden the
bouse, but Elizabeth continued to meet him, and
they were engaged to be married.
The obstinate brother kept bis sister under lock
and key, till West sailed for Europe to prosecute
his studies. Miss Shewell, however, had prom
ised to meet him in any part of Europe, and mar
ry him, as soon as Mr. W. informed her of his
ability to support her.
The patronage which West met in London soon
justified him in sending to Miss Shewell for her
to come in the same vessel that conveyed his
request to her, and also arranged that his father
should accompany her on the voyage.
Miss Shewell prepared for her departure, but
her brother again confined her to her chamber.
In this state of things, the late Bishop White,
then about eighteen years of age, Dr. Benjamin
Franklin, fifty-nine years of age, and Francis Hop
kinson, twenty-nine years of age, when the ves
sel was ready to sail, procured a rope ladder, went
to the captain and engaged him to sail as soon as
they brought a lady on board, took old Mr. West
to the ship, and went at midnight to Stephen
Shewell’s house, attached the ladder to a window
in Miss Shewell’s chamber, got her out and to the
vessel, which sailed in a very few minutes after
she entered it. Mr. West was in waiting for Miss
Shewell when she arrived in England, and they
were soon married—September 2, 1765. Neither
of them ever returned to this country.
THOUGHTS AT NIAGARA.
I stood on the bank of the river at Niagara, on
a warm summer morning, while as yet only the
“sober gray of early dawn” had mantled creation ;
a heavy fog rested upon the river and surround
ing landscape, entirely obscuring the view, the
thundering cataract, the trembling earth, alone
attested the dreadful presence of Jehovah. When
suddenly as the glorious orb of day ‘threw open
the portals of rosy morn,” and shed her radiant
beams from on high, what a change comes over
the scene!
As in the moral word, the Law preceeded the
more glorious dispensation of love—so in the
physical and natural; all before was dismal and
threatening, now, the fog is gradually uplifted—
like a curtain from before some brilliant paint
ing-revealing a most exquisite scene of loveli
ness and beauty. All now was gay and cheerful,
bright with sunshine, and fragrant with perfumes,
the ground was decked in all the magnificence of
summer, and all the choir of nature rejoiced to
gether.
Forests with their dark green foliage extended
on either shore as far as the eye could reach,
heavy clouds of spray rose from the midst of the
falling waters which, as the morning ray first
kissed every leaf and pearly drop returned the sal
utation, resplendent with glittering gems.
Far beneath rolled the majestic river, boiling
and foaming as it rushed among the rocks—a fair
type of human life with its perplexing cares—while
over all, the bow of God’s promise glittered in the
sunshine, restoring hope to the desponding. It
is God’s promise alone that renders valuablo,
j that gives to the mariner, tossed on life's troub-
I lesome bosom, the sure hope of future bliss.—
j Baltimore Patriot. I. T.
mO one who loves nature, understands her lan-
X guage and appreciates her teachings, every
season and climate brings some new delight. The
emotions which her infinitely varied scenery is
calculated to awaken, become a never failing
source of pleasure. From this source results the
greater portion of the happiness which, as human
beings, we are destined to experience. But it is
not the cause of happiness alone. Whether we
will it or no, the natural objects around us which
we contemplate, performs a most important part
in shaping and apportioning the elements of our
characters. It matters very little, some say,
where a man is born— under what sky he first be
holds light: It matters much. Birth is no acci
dent either in respect to place, time, or any other
circumstance. Ilis character, history and eter
nal destiny may, and often do, all hinge on that ;
| single question of his birth-place,
j The broad difference which exists between the 1
inhabitants of different climates is too decided
not to have been universally remarked. Whether
or not- climate alono has been a cause sufficient
to produce the distinction of race among men,
cannot now be determined; but we certainly
know that it has exerted a most important influ
ence. Tho effect of climate ami scenery upon in
dividual character has not been so generally no
ted* That it has not, is mainly attributable to j
the fact that so many other causes operate in giv- !
ing shape to our characters that this is overlooked, i
If we examine the histories of men, wo will find !
something more than an imaginary connection !
between the scenery amid which they have been
brought up, and the character and direction of
their minds. He who dwells where picturesque
landscapes constantly meet his view, will natu
rally, as he drinks in their loveliness, have his
mind filled with poetic imagery and beauty. He
whose eyes rest upon mountains which bathe
their snow-capped summits in clouds, or whose
ears listen to the dashings of thundering cata
racts, will feel within his soul the high, thrilling
inspirations of sublimity. The Switzer derives
from bis cold, bleak hills a hardihood and energy
which have made him known all over the world.
The German derives his phlegmatic plodding
from his marshy plains, and Scotia’s glassy lakes
and towering mountains have made her the land
of romantic song. Her pure, unclouded, balmy
skies have rendered Italy the cradle of tlie fine
arts, and her sunny, vine-clad hills make France
the merriest of nations. So we might go on in
definitely, and we would find m every instance
a correspondence between the character of the
people and the physical aspect of the country
they inhabit.
There are instances which contradict this propo
sition. A sluggish and inglorious race have for
ages desecrated the land immortalized as the
birth-place of poetry, philosophy, art and science.
Spain, where the Saracon power, like a splendid
exotic, flourished and produced works of genius
of rare excellence, is now the abode of one of the
most slothful, retrogading nations on the earth.
Individuals, too, have, in some instances, entered
fields of mental labor to which the natural sce
nery around them not only did not seem to in
vite, but actually opposed. Linneaus, the great
est of florists, was born and reared amid the rug
ged, ice-clad hills of Sweden ; and Newton, who
did more than any other man in explaining the
nature and properties of light, was a native of a
country in which an unclouded sky is scarce ever
seen. But these are only exceptions to the gen
eral rule—exceptions which result from the coun
ter-operation of more potent causes.
The Boston Traveller gives the following concise
statement in regard to the three comets, now
within the range of observation :
“Donates —In the constellation of Ursa Major.
Rises—3h. 16m. A. M., NE. by North.
Sets—Bh. 44m. P. M., NW. by North.
Encke’s —ln the constellation of Cancer—■
Rises—lh. 07m. A. M., Northeast.
Sets —51i. 17m. P. M., Northwest.
Tuttle’s —ln the constellation Perseus. This com
et has just come within the circle of perpetual ap
parition, and therfore does not set to us. In the
meridian above the Pole, at 3h. 34m. in themorn
ing.”
The firts ot these comets only is visible to the
naked eye and can be distinctly seen from seven to
eight o’clock in the evening, and between 4 and 5
in the morning. It is growing brighter and more
imposing each succeeding day. This comet is ra
pidly approaching the Earth, and is now supposed
to be one hundred and forty millions of miles dis
tant. As it rises higher above the horizon, how
ever, every successive evening, we shall soon have
clearer and more prolonged views of the illustrious
stranger.
The brightest of the three comets is supposed
by Dr. Gould to be identical with the comet of
1704 and the first of the three comets seen in
1827, and have a period of about thirty-one years.
This conjecture is grounded on a supposed iden
tity of the elements of motion. The motion of
the comet of 1864, as we are told, was direct,
while that of 1827 was retrograde.
Astronomers differ in their opinions as to what
precise comet this really is.
The second comet is telescopic, and will not be
visible to the naked eye. The third also invisible
except through artificial aid, is conjccted to be
the great expected comet of 1204 and 1550. All
astronomers agree in extolling its splendor. Its
tail is said to be more than 100 deg. in length, or
one half of the visible heavens. Its first disap
pearance was on the night of the Pope Urban
IV.
It is supposed to appear once every three hun
dred years. We are told as a singular fact, that
all the three bodies now engaging the special at
tention cf astronomers, have positions differing
widely from comets with which it is sought to
identify them.
There are, of course, those of superstitious pro
clivites, who may give themselves some uneasi
nessregardingthe.se heavenly visitors. We w r ould
advise them to take the matter cooil j. All is not
lost that is in danger. Astronomy teaches us,
however, that comets, like other orbs, have their
assigned orbits, and cannot deviate there from.—
Balt. Pat. “
A Celebrtion in the Olden Time. —A corres
pondent of the Hartford Courant commenting upon
the celebration that has been held in honor of
the Atlantic Telegraph, quotes the following ac
count of the reception of Roger Williams, when
he arrived with the charter for the Colony of
Rhode Island:
“The news of Williams’ return preceded him,
and quickened the pulses of the people. They
met him at iSeekonk; a fleet of canoes crowded
the river, and when the brave man came to meet*
them, cheer after cheer thrilled his heart and
brought tears into his eyes. He embraced them
in silent gratitude, and his satisfaction was such
as patriots and philanthropists only can feel. No
line of soldiers paid him a drilled homage ; no
parks of canon belched forth noise and smoke;
no shop-keepers hung out banners inscribed with
patronage and praise; but the sincere gratitude
and esteem of tho whole people gave him such a
reception as kings might long for and gods envy.”
— Elliot's New England.
■
Chicago. —What sometimes takes place in Chi
cago may be imagined by an anecdote told by a
Western paper, which is, in substance, that a pro
duce operator from the stateofNew York bought
a lot of “stub-tail” corn on speculation, put it
safely in a store-house, ‘then amused himself at
billiards, horse riding, carriage promenading,
and an exceedingly severe spree, the latter oc
cupying alone a period of some four or five days.
When ho recovered the first thing ho asked for
was a cocktail; the second a newspaper. He
found from the market reports that corn had so
risen in price that he could sell at a profit of elev
en thousand eight aitndred dollars ! Os course he im
proved his chance, pocketed his money and went
home to his wife and children a wiser and a bet
ter man.
The salary of John B. Gough, of tho English
is SIO,OOO per annum. He is
now lecturing with even greater success than ever
before.
[Written for the Georgia Temperance Crusader.]
1 _ _
♦DEATH OF BeSOTO.
BT CI.AB A CLIFTON.
THE battle of Alibamo was over; the bones of
Jj the conquered Alib.anos lay bleaching on the
banks of the Yazo. The victorious Spaniards had
reached the great, and, until then, unknown Mis
sissippi, and were resting at the town of Guachaga,
below the mouth of tho Arkansas. The almost
-despairing DeSoto had planned, and was now
having carried*out, the scheme for the construc
tion of the two brigantines which were to com
municate with Cuba, when be was arrested in tho
midst of his plan by a slow and malignant fever.
Enfeebled in mind and body, tho distinguished
leader of the brave, but inhumane, army of Span
| iards lay upon a couch of suffering; he had fought
i his last battle, seen the last hope of gold fade
1 from his vision, and the last dream ol ambition
vanish from his mind.
As he lay upon this cheerless death-bed, in a
land of savages and amid an uncultivated forest ,
methinks liis desponding spirit traveled back to
his native Spain; to the scenes of his youth and
to Peru, where, under Pizarro, he won so envia
ble a reputation. He doubtless thought of the
swellings of pride in his heart when first appointed
i Governor of Cuba and Adclantado of Florida,
i With all these came thoughts of the gentle Donna
j Isabella, who was dying beneath the sunny sky,
1 and amid the fragrant flowers of far-off’ Cuba, of
; a broken heart. In those dying hours a pang of
unutterable bitterness must have pierced his
heart when he remembered, not only how she
had been forsaken and neglected for golden ad
ventures, but how others bad taken her place in
his affections. The beautiful Indian Princess,
whom he had forced from her home at Silver
Bluff and compelled to follow his fortunes, rose
up an accusing spirit among many other Indian
maidens whom he bad forced into captivity and
misery. In quick review passed before him the
murdered ghosts of the poor Florida Indians,
whom he subdued and so often captured and con
demned to the most servile drudgery. The mur
dered ghosts of the six thousand proud Mobil
ians whom his army had murdered, and whose
town they had utterly destroyed: even now, he
hears the groans and cries uttered during that j
fearful night at Fort Mobilia; sees the piles of
brave Mobilians frying upon the coals of their
burning town.
Os the splendid army of a thousand men, only
three hundred remained, and were now collected
around to receive bis dying farewell; many
among them were his bitter enemies. The dis
tinguished Captain, who had met with nothing
but disappointments where he had expected to
reap gold and renown, was now dying; a few [tar
ting words of exhortation, one sorrowful gaze
upon the river he had discovered, and this pow
erful son of Spain was dead.
A consultation between his friends and foes
was held to decide as to his burial. ‘I lie ono
wished, from selfish motives, to conceal his death
from the Indians, and the others to save liis body
from savage brutalities. It was decided that the
bed of the river he had discovered should be his
grave, and its waves his winding sheet. When
the darkness of midnight had shrouded every
thing in gloom, DeSoto was placed in a wooden
trough and silently plunged into the middle of
the Mississippi.
“Facts taken from Pickcn’s “ History of Alabama.”
A Woman’s Dodge in Rotterdam. —l had not
gone far in my rambles about the city before I
was brought to a stand by a discovery. On both
sides of the streets, projecting from the centre of
almost every window of the dwelling houses, each
at an angle of forty-five degrees with the window,
were placed two mirrors of about a foot square,
each in a vertical position, one facing up the street
and the other down. 1 immediately set my Yan
kee ingenuity to work to “guess their object, and
was not long in discovring in these mirrors plain
indications that here, in this great swamp of Eu
rope, woman’s curiosity is the same as among
verdant hills and more genial climes. The mis
tress of the house seating herself in her parlor in
a particular spot before a window with book, nee
dle or knitting work in hand, has but to lift her
eyes into the twin looking-glasses outside her win
dow in order to catch at a glance the whole pan
orama of the steet in both dirietions. There
was also another queer looking glass arrangement
which for a long time puzzled me. The puzzle
grew out of the peculiar position and various an
gles at which these mirrors were placed. I was
about giving it up, when observing that their in
clination was always decidedly towards the front
door, I saw the whole secret as clear as light.
The good lady of the house, hearing Llie door
bell ring, darts a look into the curious mirror,
and thereby knows in a moment who stands at
the door. Os course when the door servant comes
in, lier ladyship can at once say whether she is at
home or not. In all the cities of Holland, nearly
every dwelling house has projecting from its win
dows from one to ten of these ugly looking mir
rors.
FARMERS AND THEIR WIVES.
Said a young person to a lady, who sat holding
her child, “Now whatgood will all your education
do you ? You have spe.it so much time in study,
graduated with high honors, learned music and
painting, and now only married a farmer. Why
do not you teach school, or do something to ben
efit the world with your talents, or. if you chose
to marry, why not take a teacher, a clergyman,
or some professional man ? But, as it is, you did
not need so much learning for a rural life.”
The lady replied, “You do not look very far
into the future. Do you see this boy on my lap?
I need all the study, all the discipline, both of
mind and body, that I could possibly get, in or
der that I may train him aright. You sec, I have
the first impressions to make on the fair blank
of his pure heart, and unless my mind was first
cultivated, my own heartfirst purified, how could
I well perform the task now placed before me ?
And, besides, do you not suppose that farmers
hrve hearts like other men, tastes just as pure,
because they guide the plow,and till the soil for
their support? Do you not suppose their minds
are just as susceptible of cultivation and expan
sion as otliei men ? Have they no love of the
beautiful, in their nature of art? Cannot good
paintings be just as much admired on their walls
as others, or does the evening hour never pass as
pleasantly with them, when they gather around
the piano after a day’s labor is finished? Ah, my
young friend, you have made a sad mistake in
your reckoning.”
Os all the occupations, give me that of a farmer.
It is the most healthful, his life is freer from care
his sleep is sweeter, his treasures safer. A farmer
need not be a slave of any, for he has nono to
please but himself. Not so with almost any
tradesman, mechanic or professional man. They
have more or less to do with the world at large,
and have all manner of persons to deal with, so
that they have need of tho patience of Job to
live. They are well aware that they must not
freely speak their minds at all times, and it they
do will lose custom, for they dopenct upon the
people for a living, therefore, they arc tho ser
vants of all. Then Jwhat can be desired more,
what is more peaceful, prosperous, honest, health
ful and happy than a farmer’s wife? — Moore's Au
ral New Yorker.
Why we are White.*— A Mahometan AfFghan
priest thus explained to a large audience, who
wondered how it happened that Europeans dilter
in color from themselves: “Their faith forbkls
the European women to suckle their children
and they supply tho mother’s place by an ewe.
This, therefore,” ho said, “preserves the nati rai
whiteness of tho skin ; but they are not the less
half beast, half man : and that is the reason they
cannot understand the sublimo religion ot our
venerated Prophet.”
Mr. O. P. Fannin, the Principal of tho Deaf
and Dumb Asylum, at Cave Spring, Floyd county,
has been removed by the Commissioners. On
which a meeting of the people oi that neighbor
hood was held to express their high appicciation
of Mr. F. and their regret at his summary remov
al, for alleged Sectarian causes. The Legislature
will be memorialized to reinstate Mr. 1 annin.
The State oflowa has to-day 50,000 men capable
of bearing arms. . mr .:
W. Young of Virginia, has beXn appointed U.
S. Consul at Stutgardt.
The Rothschilds haye bought an Austrian rail
way for 50,000,000 florins.
Mr. and Mrs. Brewer, of Wayne county, Ken
tucky, have twenty-two children.
Whiskey to the amount of 7,000,000 of gallons,
is annually consumed in Scotland.
The receipts of the Ohio Agricultural Fair at
Sandusky on the first day, reached SB,OOO.
Samuel Austin, a very opulent and extensive
merchant, in Boston, died recently in that city.
lion. Henry Bediuger, late U. S. Minister to
J on mark, has arrived at New York in the steamer
-Persia.
A. 11. ir. Dawson, Esq., delivered a Mount Ver
non address at Knoxville, Tennessee, on the 18th
instant.
A son of Rogers the sculptor was lately baptized
in Borne in the Roman Catholic faith by Archbi
shop Beclini.
Great men direct the events of their time , wise
men take advantage of them: weak men are borne
down by them.
The recent St. Louis Fair was a decided suc
cess. The total receipts amounted to 820,000,
and the profits to §16,000.
Dr. Binney has resigned the situation of Presi
dent of the Columbian College, £>. C. An election
for his successor will take place.
The earnings of the Illinois Central railroad for
tfie fourli week of August, arc §01,804,18; for
the month of August, 8190,784,40.
There are more lies told in the brief sentence,
“I am glad to see you,” than in, any other single
sentence in the English language.
Rev. John Strafc, aged one hundred years
preached in Galliopolis, Ind., on the 31st ult.
He was a soldier of the Revolution.
The new style of bonnet is an unique affair, and
resembles a cabbage leaf trimmed with tomatoes.
The price is cheap—only thirty dollars.
The Boston Atlas says that a daughter of the
late Professor Webster was married on the 24th
ult. to Dr. Ihomas S. Lathrop, of Taunton, Mass.
Leave your grievances, as Napoleon did his let
i tors, unopened for three weeks, and it is astonish
ing how few of them at that time will require an
swering.
Cape May takes its name from Capt. Cornelius
Jacobson May, a navigator in the service of the
Dutch West India Company, who visited the Del
aware Bay in 1623.
A hundred and twenty young men have offered
themselves to the British Methodist conference,
for the ministry. Scarcely could there be a bet
ter sign for English Methodism.
The Baron de'Reiclienbach nas just presented
liis collection of eeroliths, worth 60,000 florins, to
the University ofTubingeon. There is but one ful
ler and finer in the world—that of Vienna.
Paddy’s description of a fiddle cannot be beat:
“It was the shape of a turkey, and the size of a
goose; he turned it over on its back, and rubbed
its belly with a stick, and och ! St. Patrick ! how
it did squalc!”
An English officer writes from India of the tak
ing of a Rajah and the sacking of his palace.
They found in the treasure vaults bags contain
ing 420,000 rupees and XBO,OOO in gold, with jew
els estimated at<£2oo,ooo.
Prentice wishes that the individual who in
vented what was called the “paying out machine
ry” for the Niagara and Agamemnon, would get
up a little machine of the sort to be used in case
of every newspaper subscriber.
The diploma of honorary membership in the
Berlin Geographical Society has been forwarded
through the Department of S''ate, to Professor A.
D. Bache, the distinguished superintendent of
the coast survey of the United States.
It is announced in the English papers that
Queen Victoria has granted a free pardon to a
young man named William Craft, who was sen
tenced to six years’ imprisonment at hard labor,
for an assault in kissing a young lady against her
will.
The President has rcconized Lewis’ John Bar
bar as British consul for Virginia, to reside at
Richmond, and Enrst .Carl Angelrodt, of St. Louis
as Consul of the Grand Duchy of Saxe-Weimer,
for the States of Missouri and lowa and the west
ern terriories.
G. P. R. James, Esq., the novelist, lately H. B.
M’s consul at Richmond, Va. will finally leave
Richmond on Tuesday next for Now York, and
will probably take the steamer Persia of the 20th
inst., for Europe, to assume his new duties as Bri
tish Consul-General at Venice.
The Legislature of Minnesota lias passed a law
exempting a homestead of eighty acres from levy
from debts incurred; also SSOO worth of house
hold furniture, S3OO worth stock and unteusils,
SIOO worth of tools, the library of a professional
man, and provisions to support the family one
year.
Garrick said of Sir John Hill, the physician and
author, “The worst I wish the doctor is, that he
may be compelled to take his own physic and
read his own verses.”
“You must reverse the punishment,” said a
wag, “any man who takes the doctor’s physic,
won’t live to read his rhymes.”
A Hanover paper tells the world that the “silly
prejudice against horse flesh” has altogether van
ished in Denmark and Northern Germany, and
that in the city of Hanover alone, in the course
of Whitsunweck, about two thousand pounds ol
horse flesh were consumed. The number of hor
ses slaughtered for eating in that city is between
two and three hundred a year!
Eev. Mr. Loop, of the Episcopal church at Met
amora, Illinois, was about commencing a sermon
when a gust of wind blew the document out oi
the window. Some of the congregation tittered
and laughed. The clergyman descended from
his desk, went out and recovering his sermon, re
turned and preached it, and then announced
that he would preach no more for that congrega
tion.
Hurry and Despatch.— No two things differ more
than hurry and despatch. Hurry is the mark of
a weak mind; despatch of a strong. A weak man
in office, like asquirrel in a cage, is laboring eter
nally, but to no purpose; in constant motion,
without getting on a jot; talks a great deal, but
says very little ; looks into everything, but sees
nothing ; and lias a hundred irons in the fire,
but very few of them hot, and with thoso that
are, he only burns his fingers.— Colton.
Get Married. —If you wish to grow wealthy,
„ e t married. What it costs to support ono vice
will keep six children. Until a young man is
married, he is tossed about from one degree of un
godliness to another, till his health, strength and
character are completely ‘busted up and done for.’
Talk about your Congress water and sea bathing
but there is nothing on the face of the earth
for the health, happiness, and well being of any
person equal to a loving, virtuous woman.
It is a fine remark of Rousseau's that the best
of us differ from others in fewer particulars than
we agree with them in. The difference of a tall
and short man is only a few inches, whereas they
are both several feet high. So a wise and learned
man knows many things of which tho vulgar are
ignorant; but there is a still greater number of
things the knowledge of which they sluuo in com
mon with them.— llnslilt.
The following has tho ring of thojadk plane in
it all over: “Strolling leisurely about Uncle Sam’s
big ship-yard in Washington the other 1 day, we
observed a regular hard weather sailor chap from
a man-of-war, who in turn, was watrhmg two men
dragging a seven feet cross-cut saw through ahugo
live oak log. Tho saw was dull, the log terrible
hard, and there they went—sou-saw, see-saw—
pull push push pull. Jack studied the matter
over awhile until he came to the oonollusion they
were pulling to see who could get tho saw, and as
one was a monstrous big chap, while . the other
was a little fellow, Jack decided to see fair play ;
so taking tho big one a clip wader tho ear that
capsized him end over end, he jerked the saw out
of the log, andgiving it to the small one, he sung
out —“Now run you beggar “
■ A bit, of fine original poetry from the pe:
of a lady, who uses the signaturer)f “Biondella.
FwouH have died- for thee ! But veSTcreve -
Thy lays made muskyin my cottage home,
Till all the air seemed filled with melody. .
And then I knelt to pray, “Heaven bless my friend !’
With eyes uplifted to the listening stars.
Then, sleeping, dreamed the fondest, fairest dreams
That ever‘youth, and hope,and love and truth
Wreathed round a maiden’s pillow—l awoke.
O bleeding heart! why did I ever wake —
O crown of grief! why did these eyes unclose
To read those bitter, bitter, bitter words:
“Farewell! Between us Fate lias thrown a gulf,
Deep as the pitiless sea. Forget that e’er
We met—that e’er ws loved. Farewell, Farewell!
GONE HOSE.
And she hath tied ! gone in the morn of youth.
To other worlds where shadows cannot come;
While her young brow shone bright with Christian truth,
Her sweet eyes closed, and angels bore her home.
Why should we weep ? oh, is it all of life
To dwell on earth, wrestle with its care ?
Have we no joys beyond these scenes of strife—
No treasures bright in Heaven—no blessings there?
All, chase the clouds away from every brow—
Dry up the tears that tremble in each eye;
One more is changed into an angel now,
To wait lor you, beyond tho glorious sky.
The summer sun shines o’er the gladsome earth,
l he lair young flowers are blooming in our way;
Dear to each heart, the mornings of their birth,
1 hough soon they lade and leave us day by day.
Lut oh, within her litttle garden spot,
Arc breathless (lowers nurtured with tender care;
l (trough all the live-long day she cometh not—
. it eve they weep, because she is not there,
A shadow (alloth on lhs thomrhiful brow—
For “home, swc-et home,’ hath lost his dearest charm ;
1 o him, ol lovfi she cun nut whisper now
He cannot fold her in his sheltering arm.’
’Tis past —turn from that lonely, narrow orave
She isnot there —her spirit soared above, a
To that bright city, where pure waters wave—
Where music echoes through sweet haunts of love.
_
EITTEE 3?IITTIE.
BV LIXA BELLE.
“Room gentle flower,
My child would pass to Heaven.”
“Tired, little one ?”
“Yes Aunt Mittie, oh so tired!” And the little
hands pushed back the damp hair from the pure,
white forehead, as the head sinks to its favorite
resting place—my lap.
What a picture of beauty ! So child-like, and
yet so unlike most children. I gaze and yearn
ior the gift to transfer its angelic sweetness to can
vas. The pure, blue-veined forehead, arched by
those delicate, dark brown, almost black, brows,
though the silky hair is a light golden hue, the
long, fringe like eye-lashes, so long and dark
they throw a rayed shadow on the dove grey eyes,
the little dimpled mouth, wreathed with a quiet
smile of content, the rose-white, pink cheek, (not
the purple pink, so common in children, but the
true rose hue) all these might be painted. But
could that spiritual expression, that shadow of
something holy, that painters have so essayed to
do in pictures of the Christ-child? Vain the at
tempt—it is the spirit-shadow that goes homo
with the soul to Heaven.
“It is so warm, but 1 thought I would not put
it off any longer.” And the pure eyes gave me
one of those confiding, loving looks'that always
sent a thrill to my heart.
“What was the task that could not be put off,
Pet, that you must tire yourself walking in the
hot sun to do it ?”
“I have been over to the cemetery to fix Vir
gie’s grave. Something told me 1 must do it to
day. That selfish myrtle had crawled all over it,
and almost smothered my sweet violets. ‘I had
trained it up around the fence and over the post
but it would come down and crawl all over the
grass and nearly covered up the violets I planted
round dear Virgin’s head. I’ve got it all nice
now, Aunt Mittie, and you shall go with me to
morrow’ to see it.” That “to-morrow” never
came.
White as the pillow on which she lies, tho long
dark lashes drooping on the marble cheeks, one
of which is pillowed on a little hand, w'hile the
other lies like a snow flake on the coverlet, so
small and wasted that the little circle of gold
that used to clasp tho slender finger is now slip
ping from it. Quiet, yet so quiet, but not sleeping,
for there is that expression, so sweet yet so holy.
I gaze spell-tound. The large eyes open slowly
but so calmly. “Aunt Mittie is mama gone?”
Yes, pet. “Tho doctor told her t must die. I
am sorry for mama and father and Tinie and you,
but I am not sorry for myself, I think it will be so
nice to be iivheaven and never die again. Hear*
en is beautiful Aunt Mittie, I know, full of sweet
flowers and beautiful things. Go to my funeral
and don’t let every body tread on our violets,
Virgie loved them so.” And then those soft eyes
look deep, deep into my soul and see a wall of
partition that had never been thrown down, as
the sweet voice murmured, “1 know how you love
Papa and Tinie; give all tho love you had forme
to mama.” One hard struggle and the sw r eetvoice
was sealed with a kiss as she dropped her tiny
ring in my hand.
“God gives us ministers oflove,
Which we regard not being near;
Death takes them from us, then we feel
That angels have been with us here.’”
F.XCLUSiVIi: TALKEItS,
The “exclusive talkers” are the most insuffer
able class. One of those will undertake to talk
for all the company present. If yon impatiently
throw in but one little word, it is like flinging a
large stone into a quick current —it disturbs, but
cannot impede it, and rather impels it still faster
onward : or like striking a spark into a barrel of
gunpowder—fresh explosion of words spreads a
hubbub and confusion all around it. Though he
tells you everything you already know, you can
not tell him anything that lie does not know.
Ifo can toll voa what anew book contains tliatis
to come out next Tuesday, as wel’ as if ho was
himself Wednesday; or anticipate the merits of a
great picture on the casal. If you mean to see
the new tragedy, he has seen it, and he destroys
all of the delight you would have in its newness,
by repeating the best points of it, and by unrav
eling its plot. If you set out with an anecdote,
he snatches it otitof your mouth, as a covetous
dog would a desired bone from his best boon
companion and dearest puppy-friend and tells it
for you. You object that yours was a different
version of tho same story, and gently persist in
telling it your own way; he knows the other ver
sion as well as you do. and relates it for you, but
thinks his own the best. If you persist, after
all, in telling it for yourself, he will insinuate to
morrow that you are in your dotage, and declare
that you are the worst teller of a good thing since
Goldsmith. You could not have done a worse
thing than start an anecdote in his hearing, for
that one is too sure of reminding him of a hun
dred others; and the last one of that first century
of good things is so nearly to the first of the sec
ond century, that he cannot choose but relate it,
ancl you dare not choose but hear it. If you com
mence a favorite quotation, he takes up the sec
ond line, got s on with it, and ends by quoting
twice as much as you intended. This invariably
leads him to recollect another poem by the same
author, which no doubt you have heard, but Mrs.
Jones, who is present, would perhapslike to hear;
and then he begins it without farther prelude,
and you can, if you please, go to sleep, ad interim,
if you have no fear of his reproach, for want of
taste before your eyes, to keep them open. You
have been to Paris and lie informs you of your
expenses on the road: or you are going to Scot
land, and lie narrates most pathetically the mise
ries of a German inn. Os all talkers these are the
worst.
Monarch and Mystic.*— One of the officers of his
guard was mimicking him (the Emperor Paul)
in the.palace, far the entertainment of his com
rades, when the door opened, and the Czar ‘en
tered! The officers were about to stop the per
former, but bis majesty made them a sign not to
do so, and advancing unporccived by the young
man, ho crossed liisarms before him, and
him to go on. The officer with perfect self-com
mand, continued, saying, “Lieutenant, you de
servo to bo degraded, but being clemency itself,
I not only pardon you, but promote you to a cap
taincy.” This was said in the Czar’s, way who
then exclaimed, “Be it so,” and walked away.
The Langu age of Love. —“ Dost thou love me ?”
asked a youth, in the holiest hour of love, the first
in which souls meet and give themselves away.
The maiden gazed on him, but answered not.
“Oh! if thou iovest me, speak ?” continued he;
but she gazed on him still, and could not. “Then
I have but dreamed of happiness, and hoped thou
didst love me; but now all is over—both happi
ness and hopo !” said the youth.
* Dearest, do Inot, then, love thee?” themaid
len now asked, once and again.
“But why so slow to say it?” inquired he.
She answered, “I was too happy to speak, until
A heard and felt thy pain.”