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About Weekly constitutionalist. (Augusta, Ga.) 185?-1877 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 11, 1868)
S-ljc Wcchln BY STOCKTON 4 CO. OVR TERMS, The following are the rates of Subscription: Daily, one year |lO 00 Wbbxlt, one year $3 00 [From the Hours at Home. The Watch at the Sepulchre. THE CENTURION. From East to West I’ve marched beneath t' e eagles; From Pontius unto Gaul, Kept many a watch, on which, by death surrounded, I’ve seen each comrade fa!L Feat! I could laugh until these rocks re-echoed, To think that I should tear— Who have met death in every form unshrinking— 'l o watch thia dead man here. In Dacian forest, sitting by our watch-fire, I’ve kept the wolves at bay; On Rhetian Alps escaped the ice hills hurling Oloas where out legion lay. On moonless nights, upon the sands of Libya, I’ve sat with shield firm set And heard the lion roar; and in this forearm The tiger's teeth have met. I was star gazing when he stole upon me, Until I fell Lis breath, And saw his jewel eyes gleam ; then he seized me, And insiaut met his death. My weapon in his thick veined neck I buried, My feet his warm blood dj ed, And then I boun i my wounds, and till the morning Lay couched upon his side. Here, though the s‘ars are veiled, the peaceful city Lies at our feet asleep; Roundus the still more peaceful deadare lying In slumber yet more deep. A low wiud moaning glides among the olives Ti l every bill-side sighs; But round us here the moaning seems to muster And gather where He lies. And through the darkness fa nt. pale gle ims are flj ing, That touched this hill alone ; Whence those unearthly lights ? and whence the shad ows That move upon the stone ? If the Olympian Jove awoke in thunder, His great eyes I could meet; But his, if once again they looked upon me, ’ Would strike me to his feet. He looked as if my brother hung there bleeding, And put my soul to shame; As if my mother with his eyes was pleading, And pity overcame But could not save. He who in death was hangt g On the accursed tree, Was he the Bon of God ? for so in dying He seemed to die for me. And all my pitiless deeds came up before me, Gazed i.t me from his face. What if he rose again, and I should meet him I How awful is this place 1 The following act on Blanchette’s part has not been the first of the kind we wot of, for there are those among us to trust, like Pansy, to what it teds: Planchette. The rival beauties laid their hands Ou “ Blanchette’s ” s übborn heart, Querying silently the while With faces heli apart. “ Which does he love, tell me, Planchette ?” < Fair Lily softly said. 1 “ Which docs be love !” raid queenly Bose, Bending her haughty head. ( The white band trembled like a dove, 1 The brown one fla-hed its ring, And still the pencil wrote no word, Dragged, like a sullen thing. White quiet Pansy, leoki g on, Waited i’s pranks to see; Folding her secret in her heart, Softly and silently. “ Come hith r, Pansy.” Like a dove A small hand trembling fell, When like a weird, uncanny thing, The board obeyed her spell. Wrote “T-o-u.” Oh 1 wise Planchette, Worthy the Delphic priestess’ crown ; E;<cb blushing maiden saw herself Thus promptly written down. 1 he hero came, as heroes will, Proving all romance true, And. glancing at their pap r, said, “ What’s written!" “ x-o-u.” “ What Was the question, ladies fair, Can I not know t” & h me; “ May I one earnest quesiion tsk, Through this diablerie !” It answers “ Pansy ” She has fled Through the open door; Bhe saw the question in his eye, And needs to know no more. Alike the Rose and Lily s y Planchette tells nothing true; But Pansy holds a different faith, *She trus.s it—wouldn’t you ? Absence. Absence I Oh say, is not the weary soul Tom by it 1 Hearts shut out from life and light ? Wild prayers, that Lethe’s friendly waves may roll O’er arching bosoms that feel nought but night. Is not that “ cherished hope ” fast fading, friends t As tears toll on and thy soul*- treasure yet Is silent ! Will not cold stiSpicloh blend With sick’ning doubt and Vain prayers to forget! Ah yea I and weaty days and hours must pass, Must come ahd go, and coming, bring th' ir woe J But we must laugh, and dance, and sing, alas ! Yet fuel the doom that brings thee back no more. Why feel“ the pain, without the pease of death !” Why shrine an image, but to weep its loss i Why me' t a glance that thrills, Why feel a breath Pure, sweet—then lose It, and keep but. life’s dross! Look up !—to what t—’twere better far, to tell Yon “ sunbent eagle,” s'ricken in the flight, To soar in majesty again. ’Twere well, Yes well. If this might be—but ah I this night! Some sudden Joy might dawn on us to-day ! Perhaps—when westward rises yonder sun ; Dull aching hearts may feel an ecstacy ! Ah yes ! when sobbing “ God, thy will be done.” Eppik Bowdbz Castlzm. •Maook, Ga., September 20, 1868. [ Every mother will appreciate the beauty of the fol lowing little poem, and many can, perhaps, recall oc casions like the one it describes:—En.J The Unfinished. Prayer. “Now I lay me,”—“ Say it darling,” “ Lay me,” lisped the tiny lips Os my daughter, kneeling, bending O’er her folded finger-tips; “ Down to sleep “To sleep,” she murmured, And the curly head drooped low; “ I pray the Lord,” 1 gently added; “You can say It all, I know.” “ Prav the Lord,” the Words came faint’y, Fainter still—“ My soul to keep;" Then the tired head fairly nodded, And the child was fast asleep. But the dewy eyes half opened. When I clasped her to my breast, And the e'ear voiee softly whispered, “ Mamma, God knows all the rest." O, the trusting, sweet, coi tiding Os the child heart! Would that I Thus might trust my heavenly Father, He who hears my feeblest cry. ■ - <- Sfc- New York fashions for gentlemen are more ridiculous this Fall than ever before. Tight pants, short coat, and feet large enough to contain organs of respiration and digestion. [From the New Orleans Picayune, 26th. The New Orleans Embrogllo. About ten o’clock, last night, as the Work ingmen's Club were serenading at the residence of Mr. Thos. Hare, 165 Poydras street, they were passed by the Grant Colored Club, march ing down St. Charles street. As tOOti as the Workingmen finished their serenade they re sumed their march down St. Charles, about forty paces in ‘.he rear of the negroes. From there to the corner of Canal the negroes con stantly assailed them with offensive and insult ing epithets. Anxious to avoid a difficulty the white men bore their taunts in silence, and pre served a demeanor which utterly precluded the Idea of any hostile design. Reaching the corner of Canal street, the Col ored Club divided, * part going up each side of the neutral ground, so as to keep the Work ingmen constantly in their roar. This insult, too, was put up with, until Carondelet street was reached and passed. About half way between Carondelet and Baronue streets, the negroes halted, and a part of them turned back, and thus brought their men face to face with the white club. At this juncture a negro broke from the ranks of his own club and rushed into the cen tre of the white club, shouting, at the top of his voice, “ Come on, let’s clean them outI” It was not in human nature to endure all this, certainly not in the nature of men, smarting under recent outrages and taunts borne in si lence for an hour. A shot was fired by a negro from the ranks of the returning party, which cut through the cap of a gentleman named Richardson. It was then that the white men returned the fire, and a general engagement en sued. There was a wild rush, a fearful ming ling in a death struggle of the white and black element, and a quick and rapid discharge of fire-arms all along the line. The angry throng bent and swayed in the mad struggle, and men were locked in a passionate embrace which held the issues of life and death. Above the moan and shout of the angry combatants the sharp reports of pistols sounded like the echoes of a skirmish line before the continuous roar of battle breaks on the car. It was scarce ly a minute, and yet blood ran red on the streets, and dead negroes lay stretched on the ground. It was scarcely a second’s time before six lay dead on the street, and two more were borne back by their fellows mortally wounded. The negroes fought wildly, and were evidently in mortal dread at the terrible retribution they provoked. The white men, ou the contrary, were skilled in the use of arms, and most of them had before kept step and line in the fury of the battle. They were not alarmed at the shout of the parti colored foe, for they had seen hostile pennons bend and shake in a me lee when men died by hundreds. They knew that the time had come to teach a lesson, and the least show of temerity would stimulate the negroes and their cowardly associates to drench the city in blood. There was, therefore, no giving back and no wavering in the conflict. While the head of the column of the Work- a logmen were thus engaged, the rear formed c into line and marched to their support. It was , at this moment the negroes fled. Broken and a discomfited they ran in every direction. Al- j though they had provoked the conflict, and had ; been themselves the assailants, yet the attack r ceased the very moment that resistance was at t an end. They were not pursued, and no ad- , vantage taken of the victory gained. Through- * out the conflict the negroes numbered two to [ one. It was this excess of torces, no doubt, v which incited them to the attack. They knew | the white men had borne in silence taunts such as they were not accustomed to endure, and c believed that they could with impunity advance j another step in their hostile aggressions, and [ perhaps provoke an encounter which would , redound to their advantage. In this they were r mistaken. Short of actual violence, anything c would have been put up with; but the people 8 of New Orleans had too long and too seriously t suffered from the brutal insolence of negroes, a urged on as they are by cowardly whites, to t permit their rights as citizens and their very a manhood to be trampled in the dust. When , assailed, they had a right to resist; they did no , more. I The conflict began at the corner of Caronde , let, and extended as far up Canal as Burgundy ( street. Here it ceased. As far as beard from, at 12 o’clock last night, , six negroes were killed, two mortally wound- j ed, and one slightly injured. Among the whites a Mr. Richardson was , Wounded in the head slightly by a bullet; a I newsboy named Dooley was shot in the wrist, ’ and a man named Ryan injured in the leg by a spent ball or glance shot. A few mintlies after the riot ceased a large body of 'numbering about four hun dred; fnnrcl.fcdlipvßasin and Rampart streets, from Congo Square, where a large Radical meeting bad been held. They bad evidently heard of the disturbance and had come to par ticipate in it ; but before they reached the scene all had become quiet They offered no violence to any one, and went on their way as if nothing had happened. At the present moment, 12 o’clock, all appears to be qniet in the city. The streets are com paratively free from crowds, and no sign of a disturbance appears in any direction. LATEST. At midnight the wildest eXclteffieht prevailed, and rumors flew thick and fast of conflicts in various portions of the City. A company of United States cavalry patroled the stftebls, but it would have takeh ah army to have kept order in the feXcltgd alate of public fueling. At the corner of Thilia and Camp streets a conflict occurred betwCed a mob Os negroes and a few white men, in wbfcliJo'h'e White man was shot through the body.. He ran as far as the corner of Magazine and Melpomene streets, where he fell. Another White man was shot aud slightly i wounded on Triton Walk. Large bodies of men are gathering at almost every street corner, talking in angry excitement. The feelings of the populace seem thoroughly aroused, and it is not improbable that a conflict may again occur. It certainly will if any con siderable body of negroes-appear on the streets. m i » The Yankee Photographed by One of His Kind.—Mr. E. P. Whipple, the popular New England lecturer, thus graphically paints a people with whom than himself no one is more familiar: “The leading defect of the Yankee consists in the gulf that separates bis moral opinions from his moral principles. His talk about vir tue in the abstract would pas* as nation of saints ; blit he still Contrives that his interest shall not stiffer by the rigidity of his maxims*” “ Your true Yankee,” be goes on to say, has a spruce, clean Pecksniflflan way of doing a wrong that is inimitable. Believing after a certain fashion, In Justice and retribu tion, he still thinks that a sly, shrewd keen supple gentleman like himself car x Uodge. in a quiet way, the monl laws of Universe without any particular botb er being made about it.” * Radical Taste PattAWL’rtnA.-Tbe n , f ront ’?. ' flC League House in Philadelphia exb,mt the name of “ Washing t?* 1 J" aI ot "Lincoln,” and alongside of that of * Sickles ! !” Who can furnish a key to this strange a'fTh.rr■? The school direct ors of One of the Radical wards in Philadelphia have called anew scfhool house after Thaddeus Stevens. It is eVident that these directors ! th’ink the inOfirl education of the young a mat ter of Very small account. They omrht to call 1 the next school bouse “The Mrs. Smith I Schoo).”—?/. Y. World. AUGUSTA, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 11, 1868. Men of ths Period. A FEMININE BLAST AGAINST THE STERNER SEX. A lady writer contributes the following to Harper's Bazar : I have been thinking for a long time of wri ting to you on a subject very near to my heart; for I believe when we have thoughts that cla mor for expression, and yet are too secret to be mentioned even to our nearest and dearest, we are expected to tell them to the newspapers ; and for my part it is such a strange thing for me to have thoughts at all, that I am anxions to display them to the world as quickly as pos sible. I am not sure, after all, that mine are thoughts, but only feelings. I leave it to you to decide. 1 hone-tly confess that, as I have had a pretty good time in life for twenty years or so as demoiselle, I am not unwilling to look forward to a sweet little home of my own, with a pretty library, a nice conservatory, and various little notions 1 will not stop to talk about now, all preceded by the sweetest trous seau a doting mother could give her daughter out of a limited Income. But dear mama is nothing of a manager, and it costs a great deal to get married nowadays, when men are so fear fully indolent and ruinously extravagant, and our people around here are not millionaires.— So I realty do not know what I am to do, un less you will befriend me with a little advice and some information. 1 know a great many excellent young gen tlemen, whom I am very sure I could bring to my feet (that’s the story-writing phrase, isn’t it?) with a word ; but as Dr. Holmes’ John pathetically remarks, “Marriage isn’t for them.” No sensible girl could think for a moment of trusting her future in their hands unless she has a million or two a year of her own ; when people have that they can give themselves up to uny absurdity they wish. What their cigars, their pipes, their clubs, their utter ignorance of all domestic affairs, the men now-a-days, though very pleasing visitors and charming beaux, are deplorably unsuited for busbands. I have heard my grand mother say—dear old lady ! she was a wonderful woman ; could cook, aud spin, and make cheese as easily as you could dance the galop, went five times to church of a Sunday, and never saw a railroad, read a dozen newspapers or heard of the Atlantic cable in her life ; one of the women of a past era whom all good people now deplore—well, I have often heard my grandmother say that my grandfather, when he was a young mau, sawed his own wood, put in his own coal, carried his own bundles, mended his own fences, and with bis own hands built his own log cabin ; if he bad been traveling he would have wheeled his own trunk to the station. If we only bad such men now-a-days ! If we had, then good, pleasant well-bred girls would not have to sigh iu single blessedness for want of millions, billions and trillions to support matrimony with. But the good old days are gone. Now a days, if one’s coy lips do let slip the frightened yes, such an array of tailor’s bills, and porter’s bills, and carpenter’s bills, and the-man-that puts in-the winter-fuel bills, and all that sort of thing, arise before one’s eyes that indeed, even though he pays them, one is realty staggered ; for how is one to keep up appearances, have pretty bon nets, and pay the dressmaker, let her sew and turn and economize her best, when she is yoked to so useless a mate ? lam sure that I need not enlarge upon this text—we women have all heard something like it ever since we were as tall as a cookery book. It is “ the beam in their own eye ” which our young men do not seem even to dream of. If you should chance to know any handsome, high-born, high-bred young gentleman of unexceptionable habits, who dresses in the best material and in perfect taste (I am not fastidious, but I have nerves), holds a high position in the best so ciety, reads Latin, Greek and Hebrew, and speaks all the modern languages fluently ; who has, in short, all the modern accomplishments and a thorough education (no superficial smat tering of this, that and the other for me), with a perfect knowledge of all the arts and sciences; who never stepped on a lady’s dress, nor ever made a social blunder; who can saw wood, bring water from the well, and who is in fact a first-class carpenter, farmer, coal heaver, coachman, mason, picture-hanger, gas-fitter and plumber, besides his regular profession; who never has his collars rumpled or his bands hard or soiled, whatever he is doing—if you know such a one, frugal, industrious, intellec tual and good-tempered, 1 should like well to know and be supported by him. For lam not exacting. I believe in humoring a husband when he knows his place, and religiously tries to save all the money he can to pay his wi'e’s wants; and I am not one of those who would insist on his never smoking a cigar, or once in a while, when I haven’t any one else to take me, going to the opera with me, or for a drive, for we are a provincial reople, and do not of ten hear a genuine song bird. What do you think about it ? Won’t you speak about it to some of those modest young gentlemen who require that the woman they mar< y shall not be out of her teens, shall be simple as a dove, gay as a linnet, fresh as a morning-glory, wise as Cornelia, discreet as Su sannah, a superb musician, a first-class cook, a belle of the first Water, a house-keeper of more than Napoleonic talent, a brilliifiit conversa tionalist, and a neat chambermaid and nursery governess, and with the most profound respect and pumble submission to her natural lord and master ? How to Manage Female Mutineers.— Speaking of the recent mutiny of the women employed in the cigar manufactory at Madrid, the Epoch gives the following humorous de scription of the line of action pursued by a certain director of one of these establishments in a similar emergency : The women having quit work, left the manu factory in a body, and with menacing gestures and angry shouts hastened towards the office of the director. The tumult reaching the ears of the latter, he asked what it meant. “The hands have mulined, and have come to demand—” “ What ?” “Justice from your excellency. The whole of them insist upon coming in to see yon, and they declare they will come in by force if you won’t admit them otherwise.” It was a difficult dilemma. The dlrfeiSiOf re flected. At length he exclaimed i ceiv?t>° d! aU d leli tllem * ata read y t 0 re ‘ “ But aft tpere bo many of them, I cannot see them ill. They must delegate three of tbejr dumber for the Interview.” The messenger was about to retire With the decision, when the director cried out after him : “ Wait a minute. The three delegates must be the three oldest and ugliest of the lot.” Strange to say, the director never received the deputation. We believe that if the above course was strictly adhered to, there would be little or bo trouble in controlling any set of rebellious in dividual members of the softer sex. The most absurd reports as to the contem plated settlement of the Alabama claims tire circulated through the newspapers here and abroad. Our own impression is, that the set tlement is no nearer accomplishment at present than it was three years ago. The talk is abun dant; but there is no cider, except it is the , American Government, wh’eb Is, bn the sub ject, still an outsider. [From tl.e Norfolk Journal. Where Are the Descendants of the Negro Slaves of Antiquity? When Rome conquered the city of Carthage and its dependent territory, there were many qegroes captured who were slaves to the white's of Africa. These were carried to Rome and sold there. After that period there were always numbers of black slaves in the city and its im mediate neighborhood as long as the Empire lasted. There are no data by which we can judge of the number of thousands of these negroes in Rome ; but from the incidental mention made of them in the Latin authors, they must have been quite numerous. In the centuries from their first importation to the end of the Em pire, there must have been at least a million brought into Italy—though this is most proba bly but a very moderate estimate. These must have mixed in with the white race to such an extent that under the Empire there must have been many mulattoes. What has become of this negro blood ? There are certainty no traces of it now to be found in Italy, whose inhabitants are as entire ly free from the slightest taint of it as are those of Sweden. The theory that it might have been so diluted with white blood as to be at this time untraceable, is simply absurd; for every one who. has studied the subject of races, or observed the effect of mixture, knows that the original type, if it exists at all, will crop out from time to time in a most unmistakable manner down to the thousandth generation. In Egypt there were also immense numbers of slaves imported from the negro tribes on its borders from the days of the early monuments down to the present time. But though there exist a few mulattoes descended from the im- ' portations of the last two hundred years, yet among the bulk of the inhabitants of Egypt I there are no traces whatever of negro blood.— indeed, considering the large number of negro slaves in Egypt at all times, this freedom from 1 admixture in that country is even much more 1 remarkable than iu the case of Italy. There is one way of accounting for these facts, ’ and but one—and that is, that so different are 1 the Caucasian and African ftces, that they can- J not be permanently mingled together. The ’ mixture produces a being,'which, it not a par- 1 tial hybrid, is at least so Subject to disease that J it can be propagated to but few generations, ■ when it dies out. We see this tendency in this co’-oitry already most forcibly shown in the \ small number of the descendants of mulattoes. Now and then we see a quadroon in Virginia, - very seldom an octoroon, and beyond that de- ! gree the blood cannot be said to exist at all. j It is this tendency of the mongrel to die out ' that has destroyed all traces of negro blood • among the Indians aud Egyptians. Those of * them who were sprung from negroes died out ! many centuries ago, leaving the original stock * as perfectly pure as if there had never been au ' African imported into either Rome or the King dom of the Pharaohs. And thus will it be in the South. Not only will the pure negro race vanish from the earth ’ in lhe course of a very few generations, from i causes which must make every inferior race < disappear, but not even the slightest admixture < of blood will be left among us; the same effects i ■wHl result in the South as in Italy and Egypt, t and there will not be left a trace, save in bis- i tory, of the African race having ever existed in i America. , The Working Man.—He is the noblest man of whom our tree country can boast; whether in the workshop or at the plow, you find the same noble hearted, tree and independent be ing. And it there is a man ta society upon whom we look with esteem and admiration, it is the independent, sober workingman. We care not whether he be farmer, mechanic or common laborer—whether his toils are en dured iu the workshop, or the coal mine; whether his home is in the backwoods or in the neat cottage. What a happy picture he pre sents ; what a reward for his labor, who, by his own unaided exertions, establishes for him self a respectable position in society; who, commencing in poverty, by his skill and as siduity, surmounts every obstacle, overcomes every prejudice, and finally succeeds in formimr a character whose value is enhanced by those who come after him. Such a man we prize as the noblest work of which human nature is capable—the highest production she can boast. And let it be borne in mind by the young working than just enter ing upon the stage of active life—let it ever lie at the foundation and be the moving spring of his efforts—that this situation he must strain every nerve to attain. It can be attained by all. Untiring industry aud virtuous ambition never fail to find their reward. They never yet were exerted in vain, and never will while honesty aud justice find a home in the human breast. It was remarked by an eloquent writer, that the working man who had no inheritance but vir tue is the sole king among men, and the only man among kings. “ He envies not the Son of ease, Nor lord in princely hall; But bows b-.fore the wise decree, In kindness meant for ail.” (Picayune. -i - Romance in Real Life.—The English jour nals, just now, are varying their political ex citements with the lighter emotions resulting from the extraordinary exploits of a strong minded lady, who, styling herself the Countess of Derwentwater, and claiming to be the legiti mate descendant of the earl of the name, exe cuted for treason in 1715—has been trying to turn the Government out of her paternal estates, near Hexham. Dilslon Castle, once the family seat, is now decayed and roofless. Notwithstanding this, the Countess, having thrown a tarpauline over the building, took up her abode in it, hung her family pictures around the walls, and proceeded to “ make herself comfortable.” To this, however, Mr. Grey, the Admiralty agent, objected. Girding on her sword, however, (she wore the Austrian uni form,) the Countess defied him. He soon after received instructions to eject her, and, obtain ing help, he forthwith proceeded to do bo. But it was no easy matter. The Countess had an ticipated an assault, and had barricaded the place strohgiy. The beseiging party succeeded after a time In making a breach, took JoWn the pictures, removed the boxes and furniture, and, after a short struggle, pul the “ Countess ” . into the road. , Here s ne has erected a tent, ahd delies the DG'iic® to make her move on, though they have repeatedly ordered her to do sb. To the neigh bors she is well known, aild though some of the papers have been disposed to take the matter au serieux, she is ih the immediate district re garded, if not as an absolute lunatic, as a mono maniac. Her movements, nevertheless, are deemed of sU&cient interest by the leading London press) to justify their sending special reporters to Watch her movements. There is an aroma ’ol romance about the proceding which might 'captivate the senses of the yellow Cover noVel Writers. The 'United States Marshal of South Carolina, also an aspirant for Congress, is one Epping, a'German who was always repudiated by his respectable countrymen. He came to Charles ton as a sailor, deserted, and after being en gaged in several low employments, turned quack doctor, and made money by buying diseased negroes, patchingWbem up by the use of his nostrums, aud selling them as sound. A young gambler at Hamburg staked two hundred and fifty thousand francs, and his hair turned gray while the deal was made. But be won. . o, ‘ aclb -—When the Chinese living in San Francisco first made public their pur pose to erect a Buddhist temple in that city there occurred a very lively discussion in the newspapers regarding what was assumed to be the danger of permitting the introduction of idol worship as a recognized institution iu a Christian community, and some of the writers strongly urged legislative interference in the mutter. It was argued that the bare fact of the existence of an organized system of idolatory in this country would be prejudicial, at least, to the interests of civilization, and perhaps re garded by other civilized nations as evidence of our failure to the principle of reli gious liberty without risking the engraftraent of heathenism upon our varied stock of religious theories. But public opinion did not respond to the alarm, and “ John Chinaman” proceraed to build his “ joss house ” and make his offer ings of pork and poultry .before graven images of wood and stone, and curiosity-seeking Christians crowded the temple on high days and holidays to witness the novelty of pagan worship. It does not appear that the hnge wooden monster. exhibited in the temple has had any demoralizing influence upon'Christian society in San Francisco—at least no instance of a con version from Christianity to paganism has been chronicled. And perhaps public senti ment is correct in refusing to accord sympathy with the fears of those persons who believe they see in the Chinese enterprise at San Francisco a plot to heathenize this country. [Ex. The Earthquake at San Francisco.—On Wednesday morning there was a great earth quake at Ban Francisco. Hardly any house es caped without more or less of damage, and those in that portion of the city upon “ made ” 1 ground sunk several inches. In numbers of I places the earth gaped asunder and large jets of 1 water were thrown up. The loss of property i is said to have been near a million dollars, and I many lives were lost. Some of the papers are at a loss to conjecture what was the particular cause of this earth quake. Seeming to attribute such disturbances ; to the action of volcanoes, and there being none s in active eruption now in the region immediate ly around San Francisco, they are discussing 1 the reason why this phenomenon has appeared f in that particular spot. c There seems to ns to be nothing mysterious about it more than in all other earthquakes.— The whole chain of the Rocky Mountains and J Andes is due to a big split in the earth that t occurred in past ages. Out of this cleft the ’ igneous matter of the earth spewed up, form- 1 ing the lofty ridges on the Pacific. The earth’s t crust was thinner and weaker on this line than 1 anywhere else, and is so to this day. Os course 1 any internal commotion is liable to shake this t thin crust at any point along the mountains, 1 whether in Peru or California. f [Norfolk Journal. —» f Hymeneal Etiquette.—A few days since a t young gentleman and young lady appeared at £ the parsonage of an eminet clergyman of this city, for the purpose of having their respective destinies united in the holy bonds of matrimo ny. Everything being ready, the clergyman ( aforesaid was about to proceed with the cere- £ mony, when the young lady discovered that g she was minus the kid gloves so neceesary on g such occasions ; whereupon she requested her t affianced to hasten to a store and procure the ( indispensable kids, telling him to “ be iu a hur- ( ry or she might change her mind.” The cler- . gyman, witnesses, and intended bride waited , some time for the return of the youth with the gloves; he didn’t come. They waited longer, and still lie failed to put in an appearance. The matter at last becoming really serious and alarming, the clergyman took his hat and pro ceeded, post haste, in search of the truant lover, whom he found, after a diligent search and many inquiries, quietly seated on the ve randa of the Park House, with bis feet eleva ted on the back of a chair and very deliberately puffing a cigar. On being asked to explain his singular conduct, he carelessly remarked that he “ was waiting to see if she was going to change her mind.” They were married, however, at last, after two hours’ delay. [Ottawa (111.) Republican. Educate Yourself.—The New York Sun Is urging workingmen to cultivate the intel lect, and become as intelligent and well in formed as any other members of society : “It is surprising (says the editor) how much may be obtained by devoting a few hours each day to study, during a series of years. Gibbon produced his great work rather by the regu larity than the protracted nature of his daily studies. Franklin became the wisest and one of the best read of his cotemporaries in the midst of incessant labor. And if the workman, with his healthful mind so well prepared for the reception of knowledge, will give two hours each day to careful study, he may, in a few years, surpass in general information the great majority of college graduates,’ who so often obtain a diploma without deserving it, or who have laid aside their learning the mo ment they left their preceptors. He may ele vate his own intellect by coming into com munion with the eminent intellects of the past.” Judging Horses by Appearances.—l of fer the following suggestions, the result of my close observations and long experience : If the color be light, sorrel or chestnut, his feet, legs and face white—these are marks of kindness. If he is broad and full between the eyes, be may be depended on as a horse for being train ed to anything; as respects such horaes, lb" more kindly you treat them the better you will be treated in return. Nor will a horse of this description stand a whip if well fed. If you want a safe horse, avoid one that is uish faced. He may be so far gentle as not to scare, but he will have too much go-ahead in him to be safe with everybody. If you want a fool, but a horse of gteat bottom, get a deep bay with not a white hair about him. If his face is a little dished, so much the Worse. Let no man ride such a horse that Is not an expert rider; they are always ttieky and unsafe. If you want one that will hfeVer give out, never buy a large, overgrown one. A black horse cannot stand the heat, nor a white one the cold. If you WftiH a gentle horse, get one with more or less 1 white about the head, the more the better. Se lections thus made are of great docility and gentleness.— Exchange. Would Not Sing Hymns.—Dr. Norman McLeod, in his account of his visit in India, given in the Assembly of the Church of Scot land, said: 1 one day met one of the ten missionaries from America, and I asked him why he didn’t belong to the great body of the American por tion of the churches laboring in India. He re plied that there were differences between them that could not admit of anion. “ Fray,” I said, “ What are these differences ?” “ Well,” he said, “there is one tremendous thing—they sing hymns.’’' “ That is as* worthy a ttan as lives—a most excellent man.” I then asked if he would not, in consequence of “those differences, worship Jesus Christ With them. “ Yes,” he replied, “ under the protest!” I could not help saying that this was the worst Brahmanism I had ever seen in India. > The Indiana Legislature stands—Senate, ■ thirty-one Republicans to nineteen Democrats ; j House, fifty-five Republicans to forty-three Democrats. VOI. 27. NO. 46 1 Prints on Apples and Pears A friend, who has lately been on a visit to the “ Hub of ; tlie Universe,” writes the Charleston Courier • thus: r “ I have just seen a very pretty and fanciful idea developed ou pear and apple, in the orch- 1 ard of a friend at West Roxbnry, Massachu setts. As you ramble among the trees, jou are ever and unon saluted by an Inscription upon the fruit, done as it were by the hands of nature herself. Ou some you will find the names of Seymour and Blair, for our friend is a stsunch Democrat, of the Conservative or State Rights School. Here you meet with the familiar name of Mary, or Alice, or a data (1868)—in brief, every thing that may suggest itself to your taste or fancy ; and all done in the skin of the fruit, without abrasion or any foreign impression. The discovery was made by the Hon. Arthur W. Austin, of West Rox« bury, iu 1851-’52. He observed, during the former year, that apples did not redden In that part of the fruit where a leaf happened to lie upon it. In 1852 he cut out letters from news papers and, when the apples were yet green, he pasted them upon them with paste, such as the apoethecaries use, made of Gum Traga canth. The apples would redd.n in all parts not covered by the pasted letters. When the fruit had reddened to perfection the letters were removed, and they would appear perma nently outlined in green. 80, again, when he pasted on the apple a paper in which the letters were cut out, the parts covered by the paper would be green, and the letters would appear distinctly turned in red, the green ground sur rounding them. The experiment is a very pretty one, and produces a happy effect—let our fruit growers try it. How much sweeter must be relish of apple or pear if the name of a favorite should thus appear on it, as if writ ten by the hand of nature. What a superior price such fruit, so inscribed, would command in market, aud what a pretty present it would be to any lady at a feast.” “Let Jeemes Go.”—The Land We Love gives a model letter from a young lady whose sweetheart was in the fifth South Carolina regi ment, to Mr. Davis, President of the late Con federacy, asking for a furlough for her lover to come home aud get married : “ Dear Mr. President: I want you to let Jeemes Clancy, of company Ith, sth 8. C regi ment, come home and get married. Jeemes is willin’, I is willin’, my mammy, she is willin’, his mammy says she is willin’, but Jeemes’ cap tain, he ain’t willin’. Now, when we’re all wil lin’, ’ceptin’ Jeemes’ captain, I think you might let up and let Jeemes come. I’ll make him go straight back when he’s done got married, and fight just as hard as ever. Your affectionate friend, &c.” w Mr. Davis wrote on the letter, “ Let Jeemes go,” and Jeemes came home, married the affec tionate correspondent of Mr. Davis, and re turned to his regiment, and did fight as well as ever. Henry Clay’s Cane.—This interesting relic of the great Commoner, now sacredly treasur ed, is one of the rarest combination of artistic skill and historic associations that we have ever seen. The staff is of live oak, cut from a tree that overshadowed the tomb of the immortal Cicero; the head is made of verd antique, obtained from the house of the great Columbus at Genoa ; it is octagon-shaped, and ornament ed with exquisite medallions of those two famous orators of ancient and modern times— Rome’s Cicero and America’s Clay. The me dallion of Cicero is modeled after the celebrated bust in the gallery at Florence ; that, of Clay after the bust of the noted sculptor, Joel T. Hart, who presented the cane to Mr. Clay through Col. Warren Grigsby, wLo brought it from Europe. It subsequently came into the possession of Hon. James B. Clay, who pre sented it to John 8. Wilson, Esq., to whom we are indebted for the pleasure of an examina tion of it.— Exchange. A young man, not yet a voter, furnishes an example of personal security not often met. with. He has worked with his brother, who is a Republican, and be himself has been consid ered a Republican voter “to be made” when he should reach nis majority. Some talk was had about the political organizations In Hart ford, and he said he believed lie should join the Boys in Blue. The other night his brother was surprised to see him marching with a Demo cratic crowd of Cholera and Kantums, aud the next morning spoke to him about it. “ I thought you was a Republican,” said he. “ So I am,” the boy replied ; “ but I thought it all over about joining a club, and came to the conclusion that I’d go with the Boys in White, and I wouldn’t then run any risk of getting my head broke by stones thrown into the pro cession. I’m a Republican, but I don’t want to be killed because I am !” [Hartford Cour ant. 1 A Happy Man.—The ex-King of Portugal is considered the happiest man in Europe. He voluntarily laid down the crown, nnd has never for a moment regretted it. He is of Saxe-Co burg Gotba, a kinsman of Leopold, and very like him, except in ambition. He married the Queen of Portugal, and on the majority of his son, he surrendered the throne to him. He is very much devoted to the fine arts, and lias a spacious palace filled with the rarest produc tions of the chisel and the brush. There he lives at his ease, or rambles about the streets of Lisbon smoking and chatting with every one ho meets. He is a great favorite with every body. He is only fifty-two years of age, and has been spoken of as a suitable person for the throne of Spain. It would be a pity to mar bo much felicity.— Richmond Whig. A Beautiful Incident.—A gentleman re lates that many yerrs ago he was on a visit to the Isle of Man, and during his walk he stroll ed into the churchyard where repose the bodies of many faithful and bumble Christians. Near a grave in a corner of the churchyard be noticed a lad with a little girl (the latter about twelve years of age) to whom she was relating the story of the dairyman’s daughter whose re mains lay beneath their feet. As the lady pro ceeded in the narrative he observed the girl lift up her eyes filled with tears and beard her say that she would try and be as good as the dairyman’s daughter had been. After planting a beautiful lillj' on the grave they walked ly away. The gentleman, upon making in-, quiry, found that the little girl was her daugh ter. The latter is now the Queea of England., La Vie Harisienne cleverly bunliMupues the precocious little girls of Paris. Among other good hits it publishes the following “ Three little girls playing ladies, ‘■©ood morning madame ’ ‘ How do you do P *Bb ve you any children, madame?’ 'No, madame, not yet;, and you, madame ?’ ‘Oh, madame, 1' had three the first year.’ ‘Do you nurse your children, at your own breast, madame?’ ‘My God, madame, I suckled the first one, but it exhaust ed me so much that my busband did not want me to continue. He then suckled the others.’ ’* ■—» u— II I . It is related of a certain minister, of Maine, who was noted for his long sermons, with many divisions, that one day when he was ad vancing among the teens, he reached, at length, a kind of resting place in his discourse, when, pausing to take breath, he asked the question : “ And what shall I shy more ?" A voice from the congregation responded, “ Say Amen I”
