Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

LITERARY irmjimmce PENFIELD, GEORGIA. I/JiMJCtav &/{otntna, ficlc/et ?i, 455&. LINGOIiIS IT~VKAZUY - F,DUTOif Gorin/ for November fully sustains the high rep utation of that nonpareil of Ladies’ Magazines. Price, $3 a-year. - A slight frost was perceptible in low places in this vicinity for a couple of mornings last week. Vegetation but little injured. C. M. Bosseman, Esq., has been elected Sena tor* from Pulaski county, vice N. McDuffie, whose residence was cut off into the new county of Wilcox. Arthur's Home Magazine for November contains a beautiful engraving, many elegant fashion-plates and much choice reading. This monthly has rapidly progressed in popular favor for several years past. Price, $2 a-year; 4 copies, $5. The Georgia riatfonn says that Col. L. J. Gar trell will deliver the Eulogy of Gen. Nelson, in Calhoun, on the 2d of November next at the laying of the corner stone of the monument to be erected to his memory in the Court House square. Modesty is, as well as honesty, always the best policy. A man may sometimes gain an office or some undeserved praise by thrusting himself into public notice, but it seldom fails to result in his disadvantage. Far better is it to die unknown than to die notorious. The Southern Citizen (Jno. Mitchell’s paper) will, after the first of December next, be issued from Washington City. He states that not a number will be lost in consequence of the removal. The place of publication of the Dollar Weekly Times has been changed from Murfreesboro’ to Woodbury, Tenn. Human life, says an eminent writer, is like a game of chess, in which, while the gamester is absorbed in gaining a secure position on one side of the board, he is apt to leave an unguarded point on the other; so in life a man often loses an advantage, and exposes himself to ruin by be ing too solicitous to attain some object. “ Marlby Villa” is the title of a little work which has been forwarded to us by its enterprising pub lisher, Wm. Kay, of Atlanta. Its authoress is a lady of Rome, Ga. who very modestly withholds her name. We have not had time to give it a perusal; but, as it is a Georgia production, and written by a lady, we do not feel unsafe in recom mending it to that class of readers who delight in this species of literature. We learn from the Atlanta Intelligencer that the i trial of Jno. Cobb, jr. one of the accomplices of j Radford J. Crockett, in the murder of Landrum, came off last week. The case was taken up on Tuesday and occupied the attention of the Court until Friday night, when the Jury returned a verdict of guilty. The feelings of the community were very highly excited, and when the verdict was announced, a murmur of applause ran through the court-room. The trial of Jones, the other accomplice, is now in progross. “Gab.” —Mr. llumbell, of Philadelphia, has replied to a circular from his Alma Mater at New Haven, asking money for a society or club insti * tuted to train young men to premeditated or ex temporaneous speaking or discussion, declining to contribute, lie says : “flab is the fatal epidemic of republics. What Greece?’ Gab! What Actionized * Rome? What anarcliized France? Gab! What will dismember this Union? Gab ! This eternal propensity of gabbling upon all occasions and at all times is the curse of our country.” The beautiful Rover that for a month past lias adorned our nightly sky, attracting the eyes of every beholder, is almost gone. Since its perihe lion, its rapidity has been astonishing, its motion being toward the south-west. It is agreed on all hands, we believe, that no comet of equal bril liance has ever been seen by the present genera tion, and we think it doubtful whether any of greater brightness has ever been known. It is - somewhat strange, that this passed so near our planet and excited no apprehensions of a colli sion, while last year the whole world was seized with g panic when no comet was to be seen. An Editor’s Anathema. —Somebody has killed * the cat of the editor of the Cleaveland Herald. The following is the manner in which he vents his spleen on the murderer : We pour bitterest curses upon the marauder. May his face be constantly scratched by angry felines; may the cats of the neighborhood cele brate their nocturnal orgies underjhis window for ever and ever; should he ever “keep house,’ may “that cat again,” smash every bit of crocke ry and glass in the household, and when he eats sausages may he always find a cat’s claw or a bunch of suspicious fur in the last piece of the last sausage. May he be scratched by cats, eat cats, dream of cats and be disturbed by cats in sotcida sceculorum. Amen. The Tomato — lts Ptoperties. —Dr. Bennnett, a professor of some celebrity, considers it an in valuable article of diet, and ascribes to it very mportant medical properties: 1. That the tomato is one of the most power ful aperients of the Materia Medica, and that in all those affections of the liver and organs where calomel is indispensable, it is probably the most effective and least liar inf cl remedial agent known to the profession. 2. That a chemical extract pill can be obtained from it which will altogether supersede the use *of calomel in the cure of disease. 3. -That he has successfully treated diarrhea with this article alone. 4. That when used as an article of diet, it is al most a sovereign remedy for dyspepsia and indi gestion. 5. That the citizens in ordinary should make use of it either raw, cooked, or in the form of a catscup, with their daily food, as it is most healthy article.— Repository. Fiction often presents itself in a garb of such attractive beauty, that we regret that it is not truth. Even the sternest opponent of error must sigh when demolishing the delicate and frost-like creations of the imagination, and rearing upon their ruins the rough, unseemly structure sos the real. We give up with reluctance our pleasing dreams, and shed tears over some hope that fancy has nourished into life as if a dear friend were lost. Truth is a remorseless iconoclast. It shivers into fragments the images around which memory, vjiope and love have knelt in raptures of devotion. It spares not the myths which we loved in child hood, nor the more artistic creations which pleas ed in later years. When we read in Grecian song *of the Olympian divinities and of the brave deeds of high-born heroes, the thought is attended with that all this is fabulous. Introduced into the mystic realms of the “Arabian Nights,” we wander amid its scenes of enchantment, scarce able to realize that fancy alone originated and shaped out a world so fair. Who has not dwelt upon some work of romance until its scenes were hallowed by the tenderest associations, and all its characters seemed old, familiar friends? PRIESTHOOD AND PRIESTCRAFT have been 1 agencies in the world from its earliest his tory, and have exerted no small influence in di recting its destinies. In almost every nation of the earth, a class of men have existed who have been considered, in many respects, the represen tatives of Deity, and to whose office a peculiar reverence has been paid. But it is only where the Christian religion has obtained, that the inti mate anil endearing relation of pastor and peo ple has been known. WiMi that word, a multi tude of sweet and tender associations arise to the mind. Ihe flock feeding in fields where bounte ous nature lias brought forth herbage in rich pro fusion, young lambs skipping in innocent play fulness, the faithful shepherd watching with kindly care to protect them from every foe, and at night closing them up in safety within the fold, are all presented to our view. It is a delicate, appropriate and instructive comparison, pointing out to the Christian minister what he should do, and the path which he should tread. Among Tagan nations, the priests professed to be endowed with super-human powers, in order to gain a more assured dominion over the minds of the masses. The Pythoness who presided over the Oracles of Grecian Divinities was the recipi ent of an inspired knowledge which she could not control. The Egyptian priest patiently plod ded over the lore of abstruse sciences, mysterious as the stream on whose banks he dwelt, by the aid of which he held crowds of ignorant devotees subject to his influence. The Druids, by the charms of poesy and the mummeries of a mystic religion, acquired a power over the minds of tho people which the conqueror’s arms or the tyrant’s tortures could not su2iplant or subdue. Where ever the Christian faith has extended, the power of the priesthood has been, beyond dispute, most decided and universally felt. This is honorable alike to the human heart and head. It shows how deep is the religious feeling in man’s nature; how strong is the conviction of his immortality; how conscious he is of his inability to raise him self to a higher and purer state of existence. Sad is it to think that a feeling so ennobling in itself has been the cause of his greatest degradation and suffering. The power of the priesthood has beon one of the chief sources of its corruption. Men love power in all its forms, and there are few things they will not do for its acquirement. But if there is one form more highly desirable than all others, it is that which subjects the mind to con trol. This is the kind of influence which the priest of almost every religion that has ever exis ted upon the earth have gained. Hence, the po sition became a desirable one. The sacrifices which they were required to make, and the labors which they had to perform, seemed trifling, com pared with the sure reward which lay ahead. It is not a matter of surprise, then, that the church was soon cursed with shepherds who were more in tent on fleecing than on feeding their flocks. If they toiled for the promotion of religion, it was only that it might enhance their importance and increase their power. Their good deeds were de | lusive mockeries, performed from selfish motives, ! and their canting pretentions sheer hypocrisy. This corrupt priesthood degraded religion, rob bed it of its spiritual nature and elevating ten dencies. When the ministers of the Gospel, for getful of the high purposes whereunto they were called, began to crave power and pander to de praved prejudices for gold, the line of demarka tion between the church and the world became less and less distinct. Corruption beginning thus at the head, extended to every part. The mes sengers of poace armed themselves wiih the wea pons of carnal warfare, or resorted to the chica nery of professed tricksters. Every appeal was silenced by the thunders of the Vatican, and the decrees of councils were clothed with the omnip otent infallibility of Jehovah. The Bible was a forbidden book, its code of morals replaced and its precepts forgotten. Yet, at this period, when all the world was given over to darkness and to Rome, a ray of light shone out here and there which gained a greater brilliance from its sur rounding of gloom. .Sometimes an obscure monk, at rare intervals a prominent priest, might have been found who practised the charity, benevo lence and peace which they enjoined on others— who did not with one hand push the poor wretch down to hell, while with the other they pointed him to Heaven. These were the saving salt of those ages of darkness and unbelief, who were finally the instruments in bringing on the hope ful dawn of the Reformation. In the priesthood of the church of England, though holiness of life was not deemed essential for tho attainment of the cassock and the gown, many noble instances have been known where piety, learning and humility were combined. There the pastoral relation existed in its most touching simplicity and beauty. The incumbent of a “living” often lived in the same house, preached in the same chapel, prayed at the same desk, while two or three generations lived and died. The children whom he christened were reared under his charge, and in turn brought their offspring to him for a blessing and a name. It was such an one as this who sat for the charm ing portrait which the poet has drawn: “A man he was to all the country, dear, And passing rich, with forty pounds a-year ; Remote from towns, lie ran his godly race, Nor e’er had changed, nor wished to change his place. Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; For other aims his heart had learned to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. Beside the bed where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt and pain, by turns, dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control, Despair and anguish fled the guilty soul; Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise, And his last, faltering accents whispered praise. At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools who came to scoff, remained to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran. E’en’children followed, with endearing wile, And plucked his gown to share the good man’s smile. His ready smile a parent’s warmth expressed— Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed. To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.” In no class have mankind, generally, been more disposed “to look in man for more than man,” than the clergy. They have expected to find here a purity of heart, a sanctity of purpose and an uprightness of conduct which must be sought for in vain in our sin-stricken world. But they have evinced these qualities more universally than the same number of men of any other pro fession. True, many, like the ill-starred Wolsey, have sought more for power and wealth, and the pride, pomp and circumstance of earthly rank than of the good of souls. Too often have their petty jealousies distracted the world, and disgraced the cause of religion. But these are exceptions, and numerous though they be, they are none the less exceptions, and our statement is not disproven thereby. Yet, did every clergy man exhibit these faults, they are but men, and cannot bo expected to rise entirely superior to all the weaknesses of which mortality is heir, while prisoners of the flesh and subject to its temptations. When speaking of the influence which he ex erts over the opinions and actions of his fellow men, we were looking at the bright side of the minister’s life. Le us reverse the picture. Eve rywhere—but particularly in Protestant countries —he is expected to do much work and receive little pay. In many cases, the amount doled out is scarce sufficient to supply the commonest ne cessaries, and even that is considered more as a charitable donation than as remuneration for ser vices rendered. Public opinion does not allow him the liberty of placing a price upon his own labor—a right which the humblest artisan enjoys. Should he manifest a desire to improve his cir cumstances, it is taken as an evidence of worldly mindedness, which detracts much from his Chris tian character. He is expected ■to support his family honestly, and display a liberal hospitality on salaries which other men, with all their trick ery and close-fisted parsimony, find inadequate. Faults which, in others, are not only venial, but almost commendable, are, in him, enormities. He must be careful to let his descriptions of im morality be imaginary, and never dare to sketch out boldly the sins of those before him. Such are some of the shadows that fall across the pas tor’s pathway. When we take these into consid’ eration, the priesthood appears the most disin terested —the most self-sacrificing of all mankind. Drowning and Suffocation. —A writer in Black wood, in an ablo and instructive article on Respi ration, thus shows the identity of two things which, to common observation, seem entirely dissimilar: “ A young man, in all the vigor of abounding life, shuts himself up in liis room, prevents the access of fresh air, closing the windows, chimney, and chinks, lights a pan of charcoal, and seating himself at his writing-desk, begins to unburthen his heart of its sorrow, in the tragic eloquence of one for whom such sorrow is insupportable. The poor boy has been refused the hand of the girl he loves, and believing that without her life would be worthless, he has resolved on suicide. As his pen hurries over the paper, the vapor from the burn ing charcoal fills the room. His pulses throb, his head is hot, his breathing oppressed. The can dle is beginning to burn dimly, and its flame lengthens. He is unable to continue. He walks languidly up and down tho room, and finally crawls to the bed. Life slowly ebbs. On the following morning, when his door is burst open, a corpse is stretched upon the bed. A few hours later, she whom he lov£d, and who loves him, hears of this rash act, which an nihilates oven hope. In her despair she flings herself into the dark and sullen Seine. The next morning a corpse is exposed at the dreadful Morgue. The casual spectator gazes on it with undefinable awe, as he thinks of the stillness of that wondrous organism, which but a few hours before was so buoyant with life. Where is all that mystery now ? The body is there, the form is there, the wondrous structure is there, but where is its activity? Gone are the graceful movements of those limbs, and the tender sweet ness of those eyes ; gone the rosy glow of youth, and the soft eagerness of womanly grace; gone the music of that voice, and the gaiety of that heart. The mystery of Life ha3 given place to the mystery of Death. What has thus suddenly arrested the wondrous mechanism, and, in the place of two palpitating, vigorous beings, left two silent corpses? The cause seems so trifling that we can only marvel at its importance, when revealed in the effect; it was the same in both oases, in spite of the differ ence of the means: that which killed the one, killed the other; the fumes from the charcoal pan, and the rushing waters of the Seine, inter rupted the exchange of a small quantity of gases, and by preventing the blood from getting rid of its carbonic acid, in exchange for an equivalent of oxygen, the fervid wheels of life were suddenly arrested. It is the same cause, acting with mil der force, which makes the faces pale of those who issue from a crowded church, and gives a languor to those who have sat for some hours in a theatre, concert-room, or any other ill-ventila ted apartment in which human beings have been exhaling carbonic acid from their lungs. A breath of fresh air quickly restores them, and after breathing this fresh air, during a walk home, they scarcely feel any evil results of the late par tial suffocation. Had the young man’s door been burst open, and fresh air admitted to his room, or had the girl been rescued from the river, and made to breathe within a few minutes after her plunge, both would have been finally restore 1, as our concert-goers are restored ; and the concert goers, if kept much longer in that ill-ventilated room, would have perished, as the lovers per ished.” A little farther on, he throws out a paragraph for the benefit of the ladies, on the subject ot tight-lacing: “The injurious effect of tight-lacing has often been pointed out, and in England, at least, wo men have pretty generally learned to see the dan ger, if not always the hideousness, of those wasp waists once so highly prized. A single fact elic ited in the experiments of Ilerbst will probably have more weight than pages of eloquent exhor tation. It is this: The same man who, when naked, was capable of inspiring 190 cubic inches at a breath, could only inspire 130 when dressed; now, if we compare the tightness of woman’s stays with the tightness of a man’s dress, we shall j easily form a conception of the serious obstacle j stays must be to efficient breathing; and the in jurious effect of this insufficient breathing con sists in its inducing a depression of all the vital functions.” • THERE is an unspeakable beauty in the deep azure of the autumnal sky. It is so clear that, as you look, it recedes from your gaze far off into a boundless immensity, where neither form or color resides. It is only when we thus peer into it long and steadily that we become con scious that there is no real, tangible, objective sky. Yet, it is lovely. Like looking down into the eye when the soul lies there in all its fulness, the depths appear infinitely immeasurable. There is in it a strain of rich poetry which the tongue cannot speak or the pen write—nay, which the heart cannot contain in its outgushing fulness. The morn is up. Her messengers, on wings of light, have sped over the earth, and darkness rolls off her pale shadows at their bidding. The warm blushing fingers of sunlight brush away the dusky mantles of night, and pour in the floods of day. Brighter and brighter grows the East, until the sun lifts his globe above the tree-tops and fills the whole world with his glory. The frosty air, which gave the stars a dazzling brilliance, im parts to the sky a deep clearness which fills us with exhilirating ecstasy. Evening is closing, and the sun is sinking to his Western home. That is a realm of pure ether through which he rolls, for no mist or vapor is lingering there. As the last line of his burning disk passes from the sight, all the West glows with a roseate effulgence. The rich light comes and goes like the warm blushes on beauty’s cheek, until it gradually fades away and leaves the sky in its serene blueness. Then it is that we feel that it has a glory and eloquence of its own, with out a covering of golden light or gorgeously tin ted clouds. Some of the Watering Places in Virginia.— The Richmond Dispatch thus describes one of these fashionable resorts to which some go for pleasure, some for recreation and some for health, but which all leave disappointed, chagrined and “used up” generally. We know of no malady but ennui that can oe healed bv a watering place, and even that often fails of a cure: “ It required all the medicinal virtues of the Springs to neutralize the debilitating influence of the tables (of some of them.) There is no doubt that prudence and moderation in diet are of benefit to health, and we are willing to imag ine that it was a purely philanthropic motive which induced some of the proprietors of the Springs to have as little variety in their faro as possible, to stint it in quantity, and to have it mean in quality, so that thereby persons in pur suit of health might not overload their stomachs. For the same reason, we dare say, they furnished them at night with blood letting gratis, keeping on hand, in every bed, a supply of surgical ope rators, who relieved the visitors of any superabun dance of blood in their systems. But all this, however well meant, was mistaken kindness, and in nine cases out of ten, was not appreciated by the guests. * * * We onco heard of an at tache of a fashionable watering place, who re marked to a companion, as he saw a crowded stage, the twelfth since morning, drive up to the door—“ Well, here comes another stage load of fools.” Hon. J. J. Mcßae, without opposition, has been eleoted to Congres, in Missiissippi, to sup ply the vacancy oreated by the death of the Hon. John A. Quitman. Should a man who proposes building a house commence at the top, all would join in deriding his folly. Should one who wished to ascend a ladder try to begin at the topmost round, we would think him crazed. Yet are many guilty of this same lolly in the conduct of their whole lives. When wo see a young man who is just entering upon business spend three dollars for every one he makes*, and displaying a lavish hand in all his outlays, we think he is beginning at the top to build his fortune. Soon all his work will fall in, and he will find that he not only has no founda tion, but that he has sunk many feet below ground, whence he will have to climb long and laboriously beforo he attains tho elevation from which ho might at first have started. When wo see a young man thrusting himself forward upon all occasions, and striving to make the world agree with him in his estimate of his own importance, w r e think he has commenced at the wrong end of the ladder. Still, he persists in his absurd course, not aware that all who behold are amused at his fruitless efforts. These bo equally fools, but fools very different in kind. The one may excite pity, but the other elicits only contempt. Six suicides a week is about the average in Cin cinnati. Os fifty-seven children on the Austria, not one was saved. Two of Charles Dicken’s brothers have been’ separated from their wires. The fame which follows true greatness no friend need hold up, and no enemy can keep down. The brandy, wine, cigars and tobacco, imported into the United States last year cost $11,934,- 898. An American getleman, of arespectable family, is serving as Lieutenant in the Wurtemberg army. flhe potato crop is said to be so plenty in East Hartford, Conn., as to sell for seventeen cents per bushel. “ Pa, ain't I growing tall ?” “ Why, wliat’s your height sonny?” I’m seven feet lacking a yard.” A Maine editor says that a pumpkin in that State grew so large that eight men could stand around it, “You seem to walk more erect than usual, my friend.” “Yes,.l have been straightened by cir cumstances.” It is estimated that each of the principal ho tels in Saratoga has this season realized a net profit of $25,000. The fourth Auditor of the the Treasury De partment at Washington, Aaron O. Dayton, died recently in that city. Bishop Soule of the Methodist Church, South is in very feeble health, his condition being con sidered quite precarious. The names of the election precincts in Schley county, Ga., are Pond Town, Lick Skillet, Bump Head, and Nubbing Hill. By the last accounts from Frazer river, provis ions were very scarce and dear. Dog meat was selling at fifty cents per pound. An Irish painter announced to an Irish jour nal that, among other portraits, he had a repre sentation of “ Death as large as life.” Mrs. Octavia Le Yert has in contemplation a tour of Palestine next season. Another book of Souvenirs is expected to be the result. Pious gentleman—“My boy ! my boy 1 you do very wrong to fish on Sunday !” Boy—“It can’t be no harm, sir, I ain’t cotched nothin.” An editor out west who served four days on a jury says that he is so full of law that it is hard for him to keep from cheating somebody. If you wish to cure a scolding wife, never fail to laugh at her with all your might until she ceases —then kiss her. Sure cure certain. Mr. James a Meriwtelier and William Henry Harrison, Georgia, were among those Acting Mid shipmen at the Naval Academy, at Annapolis, re cently. Intelligence from Rome announces the ap pointment of the Very Rev. E. Purcell of Cin cinnati, as Coadjutor Bishop of the Catholic Dio cese of Pittsburg. Hon. Henry Bedinger, late minister to Den mark, has arrived at home in Jefferson county, Va., and has been cordially greeted by his nu merous friends of all parties. Lord and Lady Napier have gone to Auburn, N. Y. They will make a short stay with Senator Seward by whom they will be accompanied on a westward trip via Niagara Falls. The ladies of lowa are decidedly “fast.” On the 18th ultimo, a race of ladies, on foot, came off at lowa City, for a silver cake basket. The prize was won by a Miss Handy. Married happiness is a glass ball. The glad couple play with it during the honeymoon, till, falling it is shivered—and the rest of life is too often a wrangle as to which broke it. A. Keene Richards, of Georgetown, Ky., has de termined to purchase the celebrated English race horse Fisherman, and bring him to this country. The price to be paid for him is $30,000. A Bangor paper says a man passed through that city recently, in a gig drawn by a lusty bull, and driving before him six heifers and two colts all bound for a settlement in the Aroostook. A certain judge after hearing a florid discourse from a young lawyer, advised him to pluck out some feathers from the wings of his imagination, and put them in the tail of his judgemnt. “How do you like my face, Miss ?” said an in dividual, whose forehead and chin protruded very much, while the intermediate features formed a concavity. “0, sir, it is my favorite dish.” Dr. James McDowell,. of Missouri,. is the gen tleman who has been appointed United States Consul General to Constantinople. He is the oldest son of the late Gov. McDowell, of Virginia. Professor McPhail, of Lafayette College, Indi ana, recently stated that to Lafayette College be longs the honor of establishing, for the first time in this country, professorship of the English language. The Savannah Republican, of Tuesday the sth, says that 930 bushels of new rice, the first of the season, has been received in that city from the plantation of Dr. James P. Screven and consigned to W. Woodbridge, Esq. During the seventeenth century the patents granted for inventions in England were 250; in the next hundred years they amounted to 1,500, and in the first fifty years of the present century they had exceeded 250,000. Curiosity is a thing that makes us look over other people’s affairs, and overlook our own. Xenocrates, reprehending curiosity, said, it is as rude to intrude into another man’s house with your eyes as with your feet. The first cargo of the crop of Malaga fruit ar rived at Boston on Wednesday. The cargo con sists of 13,992 boxes, 4,000 half-boxes, and 3,>WU quarter boxes of raisins, 400 boxes of lemons, o'Z frails almonds, and 300 half drums figs. Tho family of Wm. P. Molett, Esq., of Dallas county, Alabama, consisting of tho father, mot i or, brother-in-law and seven grand-cliildren, it is said, have given fifty dollars each, or five hundred and fifty dollars in all, to the Mount Vernon fund. Alexander Buchanan died lately in Smyth county, Va., at the advanced age of 98 years. He had voted for every President of lie since its foundation. Capt. Brown, of ’ the adjoining county, is 101 years old, and still i health. Thompson in his younger days, was seized with madness for the hoop. He writes: “One thing l mind, a spreading hoop she wore Than nothing which adorns a lady more; With equal rage could I its beauty sing l’d with a hoop make all Parnasus ring. INSPIRED PARROT. The story of the composer Rameau’s extraordi nary bird is one of the most furious chapters of Operatic history. The gifted man was, one day, walking up and down one of the best built streets in Paris, so entirely absorbed, (as was liis wont) in his dreams of composition, that he was wholly unobservant of the “rights of thouroughfare.” He ran against some whom he met, and alarmed others; but was generally taken for a madman and excused accordingly. Tho twilight came on and the street darkened ? , t ie composer still pursued his promenade ack and forth ; when suddenly on the stillness o le evening, there arose a train of delicious me ot y a voice ot the most wonderful richness and clearness of vibration, and singing one of hit own exquisite compositions! n Jin 6 Ct or \ tl f, “' riter of the music was mag- F® sea |- e d lnmself on the pavement in front ot the stately mansion from whence the sound proceeded, buried his head in his hands, and feasted with luxury indescribable, upon such performance of his own notes as ho had never be fore heard. Seized at last with burning curiosity to know who was the wonderous and unseen singer, and not daring to present himself at the door of the house, he climbed up by the railing and balconies to get a stolen look in at the window. The cur tains were open and the drawing-room was lighted; but of the lovely creature whom he expected to see, there was no sign. Only in the corner of the balcony next him, was set a splendid cage; and in it, upon a suspended gold ring, sat a superb par rot, of emerald-green plumage, the only visible inhabitant of the mansion. Disappointed and vexed, Rameau began to de scend again to the ground, when the silence was once more broken by the same entrancing voice ; and now there was no mistaking the source of it —the song came from the cage !It was the parrot, who sang his inspired notes so beautifully. Milking sure of the fact by closer examination, the composer descended and presented himself at the door of the house. On inquiring for the resident master or mistress, he was introduced to a young and beautiful woman, the Countess , to whom he announced his name, at once offering twenty-five louts d’ors, all the money he had in the world, for the wonderful bird. “I adore my parrot,” said the highbred woman, “and no money would buy him of me ; but I will exchange him with the gifted Rameau for a single original composition of his musical genius, written on the spot.” Asking for only ruled paper and pen, the de lighted Rameau seated himself at a table, and the flow of inspiration was. 1 electrified with the novelty and beauty of his adventure. The parrot proved a most rare bird, in the hands of the composer, and became the luxury of his life, as the prompt learner and reciter of the new airs he composed. And it got to be his favor ite way of reproving the singers, at the rehearsals of his opera, to say to them that they “should go and take a lesson of his parrot.” Life is but death’s vestibule ; and our pilgrim age on earth is but a journey to the grave. The pulse that preserves our being beats our death march, and the blood which circulates our life is floating it onward to deeps of death. To day we see our friends in health, to-morrow we hear of their decease. We clasped the hand of the strong man but yesterday, and to-day we close his eyes. We rode in the chariot of but an hour ago, and in a few more hours the last black chariot must con vey us to the home of all living. Oh, how close ly allied is death to life! The lamb that sport eth in the field must soon feel the knife. The ox that loweth in the pasture is fattening for the slaughter. Trees do but grow that they may be felled. Yea, and greater things than these feel death. Empires rise and flourish ; they flourish but to decay, they rise to fall. How often do we take up the volume of history and read of the rise and fall of empires. We hear of the cornoation and death of kings. Death is the black servant who rides behind the chariot of life. See life and death is close behind it. Death reaclieth far throughout this world, and hath stamped all terrestrial things with the board arrow of the grave. Stars die mayhap ; it is said that conflagrations have been seen far off in the distant ether, and astronomers have marked the funerals of worlds—the decay of those mighty orbs that we had imagined set forever in sockets of silver, to glisten as the lamps of eternity. But, blessed be God, there is one place where death is notlife’s brother—where life reigns alone; “to live,’ is not the first syllable which is to be followed by the next, “to die.” There is a land where death-knells are never tolled, where winding sheets are never woven, where gravesare never dug. Blest land beyond the skies! To reach it we must die.— Spurgeon. - SPECIAL. PROVIDENCE. The question arises, Is there a moral or scien tific probability that Gcd ever produces results by natural laws, in this world, which otherwise these would not have produced ? If we drive nat ural laws cannot God do it ? I hold, because the Bible teaches it, and now I hold it more because nature and science teaches it, that there are mil lions of results that never would have fallen out in the course of nature, that are now continually falling out on account of God’s special mercy. The doctrine of a special providence is this, God administers natural laws—of the mind, the body, and the outward world—so as to produce effects which they never would have done of themselves. Man can do it, and why not God ? By a wise use of natural laws man can make the difference be tween comfort and discomfort. He can till the farm, and make the seasons serve him. He can take natural laws, and gird himself about with them, so that they shall make him rich and wise and strong. Men can do it for themselves—why cannot God do it for them ? Men can do it for their children —for their neighbor’s children—for scores and hundreds of persons. A farmer that administers his estate wisely, will have enough, not only for himself, but for others. Hischildren will be fed, the neighbohoo# supplied, and the veins of commerce swollen by the overplus of his sagacity. A man can say to the light, to the wa ter, to the seasons,. “I will, by you, make a special providence for this whole town,” and he can do it; for if he falls back, there will not be abun dance, but if he goes forward there will be. That is not all. A man may be put at a point where as Napoleon was, or Wellington in Spain, or John Moore in the north of Portugal, or live in India —where he can make a special providence for a nation, for a race,'for an age, for one land, for the “lobe ! Now God can do a great deal more than man, and a great deal better. Is there any ob jections to such doctrine? — Beecher. THE MAMMA WITH NINE DAUGHTERS. Haines Bailey writes quite a poem on the two ways a mamma has to talk who has such a large responsibility. We can give an idea of it by ex tracting a verse or so. First, this is the way she talks to the girls : “Don’t stoop like that,my sweetest Rose ; Maria, dear turn out your toes ; It gives me pain, my angel Jane, To see your squint come back again-! Anne, what can make your nose so red ? Constantia. do hold up your head; I wish Kate’s ankles were’nt so thick; Bess, keep your mouth shut, there’sa chick.’” Then there comes along “Sir Charles,” whom she hopes ta “catch” for one of them, and to him she thus talks about the girls: “You’ll come to tea, Sir Charles, you’ll see A most harmonious family. Bess plays the lute, Ann the guitar, Jane learns the harp of sweet Labirre; Rose and Maria, if they’re press’d, Make use of Broadwood’s very best; Constantia sings, indeed we all Love music—you are musical?” But the marriageable man is dismayed at the mutitudinousness of tho temptation: “‘l’m musical,’ Sir Charles replied, And took his hat, and hem’d and sighed ; ‘l’m musical, and charm’d to view Such harmony. Dear ma’m, adieu, Ah, what an orchestra for me Could I wed all the family. Farewell, temptation let me shun, ’Twould spoil the band to marry one.’ ” A Keobuk paper gives a distressing picture of things in lowa, comparing its condition to that of “tho doomed city of Jerusalem.” They have creditors without and creditors within, every third man is a lawyer, every other man virtually a pauper, and all standing in listless and unprofit able idleness except the police and constables. “Do you believe in second love, Mishter Mc- Quade V’ “Ho I believe in second love ? Humph ! if a man buys a pound of sugar, isn’t it swate ? and it’s gone, don’t he want another pound, and isn’t that swate too ? Troth, Murphy, I belay® in sec ond love 1” EXTRACT FROM “THE AIRS OF PALES TINE.” On Arno’s bosom, as he calmly flows, And his cool arms round Valloir.brosa throws, Rolling his crystal tide through the classic vales, Alone—athight—the Italian boatman sails. High o’er Mont Alta walks, in maiden pride, Night’s queen; he see her image on that tide, Now ride the wave that curls its infant crest. Around his brow, then rippling sinks to rest; Now, glittering, dance around his eddying oar, Whoso every sweep is echoed from the shore; Now, lar before him, on a liquid bed Os waveless water, rests her radiant head. How mild the empire of that virgin queen ! How dark the mountain’s shade ! How still the scene ! Hushed by her silver sceptre, sephyrs sleep On dewy leaves, that overhang the deep, Nor dare to whisper through the boughs, nor stir The valley’s willow, nor the mountain’s fir, Nor make the pale and breathless aspen quiver, Nor brush, with ruffling wing, that glassy river. Hark ! —’tis a convent’s bell —its midnight chime; For music measures even the march of time— O’er bending trees, that fringe the distant shore, Gray turrets rise—the eye can catch no more. The boatman, listening to the tolling bell, Suspends his oar; a low and solemn swell, r< J[ Tl the deep shade, that round the cloister lies, Kolls through the air, and on the water dies. W hat melting song wakes the cold ear of night? A funeral dirge, that pale nuns robed in white, Chant round a sister's dark and narrow bed, 1° charm the parting spirit of the dead. .triumphant is the spell! What raptured ear, 1 hat uncaged spirit, hovering, lingers near; W by should she mount? why pant for brighter bliss, A lovlior scene, a sweeter song, than this ! [Pierpont. REDEEMING THE TIME. . Arise, and no longer dream the hours Os life away! Arise! and do thy being’s work, While yet ’tis day. The Doer, not the Dreamer, breaks The baleful spell, Which binds, with iron bands, the earth On which wc dwell! Up, man ! or War, with fiery feet, Will tread down men. Up! or his bloody hands will reap The eartii again ! Up! or the cannon-boom will rend Once more the sky; And gory heaps of murdered men Around you lie. The brow of Wrong is laurel bound^ Not girt with shame; And love, and truth, and right as yet Are but a name! From out time’s urn your golden hours Flow fast away! Then, dreamer! up and do life’s work, While yet ’tis day. REVERIES OF A MAIDEN LADY. Sixteen years old. —l wonder if every young girl forms as many plans for the future as I do ; and such pleasant plans too. It seems tome one’need only live to be happy. 1 shall soon leave school; then I intend to read a great deal, and study housekeeping, so that when I am married I may make a pleasant home for my husband. Nineteen years old. —Two winters in society ! Well, I have learned one thing. 1 find that the world views me as neither hadsome, rich, nor entertaining; consequently I am not of much im portance, which is not a very pleasant discovery: but lam sure 1 have a mind and a heart. What am I to do with them ? Twenty-three years old. —l am no longer happy ; the spirit of unrest has taken possession of me. How can I live this weary life of inanity? I try to neglect no household duty ; but we have plen ty of servants to do all the work. A woman’s lot is a sad one ; she is told “her noblest station is retreat.” Oh, that I were a man, that I might be active, were it but in money making. lam not good enough to live a wholly benevolent life; yet I want occupation. I have no desire to go to party after party, as many a young lady does, hor ping to find a husband. The whole system of society is degrading to woman. It seems to me it ;vould be better to offer proposals of marriage openly to gentlemen, than to use the manoeuvres are now practised—that is, if a woman must be be married. Must she, in order to be happy ? I do not know. Twenty-six yeaxs old. —llovv the years glide on, marked by many events and experiences; but my mind is still uncertain about life. Many wo men in my place would have married Mr. 8., for he loved me, plain and unattractive as I am ; but though he was worthy of a better woman than myself, I did not love him as a wife should love her husband. The few men who have happened to care for me 1 have not fancied and so I will be an old maid. But, what shall l live for? What shall I do to be happy ? Thirty-Jrve years old. —A faint gleam of light seemS to shine upon my path—a feeling of the truth that our life here is a probation ; that “enjoyment and not sorrow, is our destined end or way.” I have ever been seeking after happiness—earthly happiness : but now 1 feel a degree of willingness to receive every event, whether joyful cr sad, as sent by an All-wise Creator. With this willing ness, comes a feeling of strange contentment. What matters a little more or less of transitory earthly pleasure? The greatest amount of com fort in life is] secured by being alive to the bles sings that we receive day by day, appreciating the blessings of our own lot—not envying others. The education of girls is very cruel; they are obliged to learn wisdom by sad experience. Why cannot they be fitted, as far as possible, to bear life under any aspect? Instead of teaching them that the only happy state of woman is that of wife and mother, let them grow up with the idea that marriage is an accident in life, some times a sad one. Either they should be educated in this way, or tho opportunities of marriage should be as free to woman as to man. Why could notparents invite gentlemen to their houses with the avowerd object of selectingsuitable hus bauds for their daughters ? Many a worthy man would then gain a wife to whom he would never have dared toaspire. Why should it be thought more immodest for a to girl show an innocent pre ference for the society of agentleman—this prefer', ence founded on true admiration and respectr-than for her to love and marry a man merely out of gratitude for his fancying her? If women only felt the certainty that they marry if they choose, half the foibles of their character—such as vanity and jealousy —would be much lessened. Their aims in life’ would be nobler; they would make better daughters and sisters, and better members of society, and should they marry, better wives. Home Journal. <♦■ A CEMETERY WITHOUT A MONUMENT. The noblest of cemeteries is the the ocean. Its poetry, and in human language ever will be urn written. Its elements of sublimity are subjects of feelings, not description. Its records, like the reflection mirrored on his waveless bosom, can not be transferred to paper. Its vastness, its eternal heavings, its majestic music, in a storm and in its perils, are things which I had endeav ored a thousand times to conceive, but until I was on its mighty bosom, looking out upon its moving mountain waves, feeling that eternity was distant from me the thickness of a single plank, I had tried in vain te feel and know the glories and grandeur of the sea. 1 there first felt what John of Patmos meant when he said of heaven, “There shall be no more sea.” But there is one element of moral sublimity which im pressed my mind, and which I should be pleased if I could transfer, ii? all its vividness, to the mind of the reader. The sea is the largest of cemeteries, and all its slumberers sleep without a monument. All other graveyards, in all lands, show some symbols of distinction between the great and the small, the rich and the poor; but in that ocean cemetery the king and the clown the prince and the peasant, are alike undistin guished. The same wave rolls over all—the same requium, by the mintrelsy of ocean, is sung to their honor. Over their remains the same storm beats and the same sun shines; and there, un marked, the weak and the powerful, the plumed and the unhonored, wist sleep on until awakend by the same trump, the sea will give up its dead. I thought of sailing over the slumbering but de voted Cookman, who after his brief but brilliant career, perished in the President —over the laughter-loving Power; who went down m the same ill-fated vessel we have passed. In that cemetery sleeps the accomplished and pious Fish er ; but where ho and thousands of others tho noble spirits of earth lie, no one but God know, eth. No marble rises to point out where their ashes are gathered, or where the lover of the good and wise can go and shed the tears of sym pathy Who can tell where lies the tens of thousands of Afric’s sons who perished in the “middle passage ?” Yet that cemetery hath or naments of which no other are the heavenly orbs reflected in such splendor. Over no other are so many inimitable traces, of the power of Jeho vah. Never can I forget my days and nights as I passed over the noblest of cemeteries, without, a cingle human monument. — Giles,