Newspaper Page Text
BY W.M. JEFFERSON & CO.
■$ ■ . . . .
VOLUME 3.
MISgBhtsASKOCSs
Forerer.
BY ELLEN A. MORI ARTY.
Fofever and forever,
The idle winds go by ;
Forever and forever
The while clouds sweep the sky;
Forever and forever
My thoughts teud all to thee.
In the morning’s dewy splendor,
In the gnrlisk hush of moon,
■ln the twilight calm and tender,
’Neath the glory of the moon,
Wften the midnight’s solemn beauty
Dlideth over land and sea,
Rise within my wakening spirit
Dearest memories of then..
In the fancied bliss of dream-land,
Through the world’s contending,
* strife, ’
In my heart a thought is throbbing,
llivobbiug ever with my life; “
Murmuring ot a cherished presence,
That is dear, now dear to me—
So forever and forevej
My thoughts go out to thee.
The following lines were received by
Mr. Henry Walker, from some fair lady
of Monticello, Florida, through the post
office :
Two old maids, at close of day,
A bachelor’s c/ucass bote away,
With wrinkled brow and matted hair,
And heart that never loved the fair.’
Bring briars, they groaned, bring weeds
unblown,
Bring rankest plants of name unknown—
Bring withered boughs from dreary w ild,
To st cw the bier of error’s child.
An-I make his grave where lizards hide,
Where nght shade strews tlie swamp
creek’s tide,
Far out of sight—where gentle Spring
Shall send no gentle birds to sing.
His old Jaek Knife lay low with Inin,
Thai cut the string of Cupid’s bow ;
The sad mouse-cat shall whine around
1 Its lonely grave in grief profound.
Low lay with him who was often high,’
Here where shall fall no pitying eye
* For him—for him no loving heart
Shall ache—for him no tear shall start.
His bloodless limbs shall fall to dust—
His old Jaek Knife shall waste with rust;
lie whom we hid rrofn’light of men,
Shall never fright the babes again.
For we have laid him from th.e light,
Bfcneatli the ground an 1 out of sight;
But his rude epitaph shall stand—
•lie who to no one gave his band !’
February IJ, ISGO VALENTINE.
Afflictions.
From whatever stand-point the world be
viewed, we cannot resist the conclusion,
forced upon us by a multiplicity ofconsid
ci at ions, that therein much here unworthy
the attention and sympathy of immortal
natures. Not that such was the design of
(the wotld’s infinite builder, but because
anen have abused the gifts and blessings
(which have been conferred upon them, and
have clung to the creature more than the
the subordinate to the supreme, and lowei
•ed the infinite from its own rightful place,
.that they forget what is deserving their
highest esteem, and place their affections
upon what, at the best, is transitory, and
passing away as the flowers in the dew.
•To love this present state is natural. It is
-the promptings of hearts, whose sympa
thies and taste and passions all centre here.
We cling to the earth as the ivy clings
over old ruins, throwing out its tendrilis
and striking its roots into the clefts of the
rock. Gold and silver and lands and mer
chandise attract more than realities which
are permanent; we are too apt to make
more of friends whom to-morrow we may
follow to the grave, than x nf Him whose
friendship cau never be shut off by the last
.enemy. Not that to love these can be
-wrong in any other sense than as we confer
,our highest affections upon them and refuse
ito render the supreme allegiance of the
heart to objects supremely worthy. Pros
perity—alas, that it should be so—serves,
usually, to confirm our love for worldly
tilings, instead of leading ns, as doubtless
it was designed to do, to the contemplation
.of what is most eminently deserving the
i notice and devotion of an immortal nature.
Success in human enterprise commonly
drives the soul furthtr from God. |t is
the to heavily ladcr. bark sailing before a
prosperous gale, which is likely to founder
iu uiid-ocoan.
When, therefore, God perceives his dear
children threatening to make shipwreck
thus of their everlasting hopes; pressing
under the full sail of successful enterprise;
their wealth increasing; their worldly
comforts gathering thick about them ; them
aelves becoming more and more satisfied
with life's luxuries and life's seeming real
ities, it is wisdom whose mysteries we can
not fathom, which nowurnd then removes
a blessing, so cutting off an occasional tie
to teact| how brittle and how uncertain
earthly ties must be. God iu mercy blasts
earthly hopes because he knows better
than we how uuworthy they are to absorb
the lore and sympathy of heiogs who are
able to love objects infinitely more glori
pus and estimable. Ily rrmoving them
A WqqMj jQuraoJHHQevotedl lo> Home latopatar©, Agneultape, Foreiga aad Domestic Hews, Wit, Earner, &c.
He enables men to see how vain and futile
they were; that, lioWevei lovely in them
selves, they would not do to satisfy the
demands and longings of a deathless
spirit.
Afflictions, coming thus from the Father
of Mercies, are eminently fitted to call
away an inordinate love from undeserving
objects. They teach us how incompetent
earth is to afford substantial benefits, to
communicate ever-living joy s. If rightly
improved they make real to the soul the
comparatively worthlessness of everything
that is earthly in its origin and aims. It
makes the soul feel how brittle are all
hopes and expectations of men when
placed upon what is earthly. Afflictions,
so to speak, call ii. the affections whieli
had gone out after what is actually base
less, as the morning cloud and as the eaily
dew.— tCo.YU.
Chinese Language.
What is their language? This has nei
ther conjugation nor declension, neither af
fixes nor termination, neither syllables nor
alphabet, but is composed of symbols or
characters, numbering forty thousand.
Many of these have in common the same
sound, undistinguished by the ear, but
each has a seperate signification recognised
by the eye. In some cases the same char
acter has a variety of significations, and,
without a change of form, may be used
either as a noun or verb, adverb or adjec
tive.
The original mode of recording facts
was by moans of the knotted cords. A
bout twenty-seven hundred years before
Christ, Hwangte, an ancient sovereign, or
one of Ins statesmen, has the credit of orig
inating the Chinese written language, lie
is said to have, derived his first idea ot the
invention by observing the various forms
in nature and endeavoring to imitate them.
In this way some six hundred symbols
were formed, in which a resemblance may
be traced between the appearance of the
character and the thing signified. The
second class seems to have been formed
by a combination of characters, whose sig
nificancy had been settled and so combined
as to convey an idea by the union; as.
for example, the sun and moon united vvas
made to signify brightness ; the sun above
the horizon used for morning; tho mind,
witli lust placed over it, signifies to forget ;
man and word, side by side, signify sincere;
three ears and a mouth united signify to
slander; three ears and a heart united sig
nify timid; a woman placed under a cover
expresses tranquility. The reason for
many of the combinations is to us less ap
parent, though it is presumed that in the
author’s mind they were not arbitrary.
Tire whole forty thousand characters and
more are arranged iu two hundred and four
teen classes, each marshalled under one
root or radical, which forms a component
part ot each character in its class. This
facilitates the labor of finding any charac
ter in the dictionary as we look for its sig
nification.
The symbols are also arraigned in family
groups, which lessen the tax upon the
memory of the student; still he has to
learn the sound and signification of these
forty thousand emblems -of thought, as
much as a man has to learn the names and
characters of forty thousand men to whom
hb was before a stranger. And as an old
friend is sometimes passed unrecognised,
when seen in ajiew position, so one of
these old characters you have known for
years, when unexpectedly met in some
new place, his face may seem familiar, but
you fail to call to memory his name or his
occupation and former history'.
This is an unwieldly instrument for the
transmission of thought, and it requires a
long apprenticeship to learn how to use it;
but on the other side of the equation it of
fers a cancelling consideration, in the fact
that it is intelligible to so large a portion
of the human race. The Bible translated,
or Christian books printed, in this lan
guage, may be read by the millions of
China, the people of Cochin-China, as well
as by theCoreans, Lewcbuans, Japanese,
and imdtitadei, in the surrounding conn
tries of Siam, Borneo, the Straits of Ma
lacca, norto speak of those who have emi
grated to Burinah, India, and California.
None language was ever understood by
so many men; no language is so purely
its own, aud so unlike every other; no
living language can claim such high an
tiquity and hoary-headed Annexation. It
is the oldest language now spoken, and
excepting the Hebrew, it is perhaps the
most ancient written language ever used
by man. Tlfe Syriac Ethiopiic Coptic,
and Sanscrit are found only in books,
while the classic languages of Greece and
Rome, as spokec by Demosthenes and
Cicero, differ widely from the languages
spoken iu those countries.— Dean’s Chi
nese Mission. ,
Valuable Discovery.—The Chattanooga
Advertiser says, that the rock called Tripo
li, and extensively used by jewellers iu
polishing their wares, and iu great use for
polishing and brightening all metalic sub
stances. door plates, knobs, dec. has been
discovered to exist in large And rich beds
nearby Chattanooga. Tue lock is valua
ble and its preparation will at some day
constitute a regular business and a paying
one. ,
■ ■ 4* in
The human heart Is like anai fit t’s studio.
’ GREENESBORO’, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, APRIL 4, 1860.
Correspondence of the N. O. Picayune,
Living in Paris.
Paris has the reputation of being a most
expensive place of residence and a ruinous
city. This erroneous and exaggerated o
pinion iujures it in the minds of strangers.
A wealthy man in the provinces wrotje last
week to some of his friends in Paris:
“Do you think my wife and I can pass the
winter in Paris on twenty-five thousand
francs? We are told it is impossible.” It
is impossible, his friends replied, if you
wish to live in a splendid suit of rooms in
the Rue de la Paix, or in the Rue de Riv
oli; and lequirc a brilliant equipage, and a
box at the Grand Opera and Italian Opo
ra. It is impossible if you wish to give
dinner parties and dancing parties ; and if
your wife wears fifteen or twenty new dress
es in the season as our fashionable ladies
wear. But it is possible if you will be, con
tented with a comfortable and obscure life.
Resilience in Paris is costly only when one
w'isiies to make it so. It is costly only in
its luxury ; but, if one be not disposed ro
make a brilliant figure, no city in tho world
offers more resources aud adapts itself with
more complacency to every condition of
fortune. Strangers who are averse from
expeuse can find here elegant hotels where
they are comfortably lodged, with a well
servad table, and where they can determine
beforehand the sum of all their expenses
at moderate rates. We are acquainted
with a young man who remained in his
province” until he reached his five-and
twentieth year. His family were anxious
to marry him to a very wealthy, very ugly
and most disagreeable woman. Ho did
not fancy this marriage, but he dared not
openly combat the wishes Jof bis family,
and he yielded out of respectful weakness.
Nevertheless, as they required that upon his
marriage lie should, with his wife's dowry
engage in business, which, of course, would
chain him down to his native town for the
rest ot Lis life, lie asked for a favor that lie
might be allowed to see Paris before he
took this irrevocable step. Certainly, said
his parents, willing to reward his docility ;
hero are three thousand francs, go to Paris,
stay there as long as vbur money lasts, and
then return home and get married. The
young man packed his trunk aud came to
Paris delighted at the “days of grace’’ giv
en him on his marriage promise, delighted
to think o? the pleasant time lie was going
to spend and which he was determined to
make last as long as possible before he re
turned home and rivited the vinculo matri
monii upon him. Two months passed
away, and then his parents asked him in
one of their letters : “When are you com
ing back ?” Ho replied, “1 have not got
to the bottom of my purse yot.” Another
tw o months came and went, and again they
wrote him, this time saying : ‘Surely your
money must be nearly exhausted now ?”
He replied, “Oh no, it : sn’t. I live eco
nomically.” Another month flew away,
but he did not fly away fiotn Paris with it.
Letters from home came every week, all
singing the same song: “Come home!
Come home and marry!” while he replied
“I have not. yet spent all my money, and
yon promised me I might stay in Paris un
til all my money had gone.” A year—a
second year came and went —our young
friend continued to live in Paris. As you
may imagine, the letters of the young
man’s parents became more andmore press
ing, and at last were angry enough. He
kept cool, and when they stormed he exhib
ited them his accounts; when they re
proached him he reminded them . of their
common agreement. At last one day; it
was towards the close of the second year,
lie wrote them a letter which ran as follows.
“A man who lives two years in Paris on
three.thousand francs does not need a rich
wife. I have the honor, therefore, to in
form you that I sh.all not marry, that 1 do
not intend to return home, and that I have
an excellent office in the Credit Mobilier.”
This story, which is true, proves that one
may be as economical as he pleases in
Paris.
• Pilgrimages to Mecca.
A recent publication of the Ministry of
Algeria and the Colonies makes some cu
rious statements relating to the pilgrimages
to Mecca during the present year. ■ The
ceremonies of Mecca terminated on the
11th of* last month, in the prese.nce of a
bout 50,000 pilgrims, of whom 17,850 had
come by sea, and 32,150 by land. In 1858
there were 160,000 pilgrims ; in 18$7 140,-
000 ; and in 1856 120,000. This great de
crease in the number in 1859 is owing, the
natives declare, to the eveuts of Djeddah
last year, and al.-o to the dread of the
cholera, which made extensive ravages in
1858. As soou as the pilgrim sets foot on
the sacred soil of Mecca lie must put on
!jtwo pieces of white cloth, one tied round
1 the loins with ends hanging down to the
j middle of the leg, while the other is
j thrown over the shoulders so as to leave
I the right arm free. He must go barehead
[ed and wear sandals. As long as he wears
j ibis garment he is bound to lead a pure
and regular life. At Mecca he begins the
ceremonies under the direction of a guide.
| They are as follows: 1; Viaiirg the tem
ple aud going seven times round the Kaaba,
I starting frotn the Black Stone, which he
j must kiss or touch in completing each oir
j cult; 2 Drinking the water of the well of
! Zorn Zein, at which, says tradition, Uagar
and Ishmael quenched their thirst; 3.
Fraying At tlif Ration or mark-
ed by a stone, on which he is said to have
stood when he went to sacrifice his son ; 4.
Stopping and praying at the place, called
El Aladjen, the spot where Solomon stood
to see mortar mixed tor building the temple;
5. Running seven times between Mounts
Safa and Merwa, within the limits of the
city, in commemoration of Ha gar’s anxious
search for water for herself and her son ;
6. Repairing in the 6th day of the month
to Mount Ararat, about twelve miles from
Mecca, after morning prayer. Mahomedan
tradition says that on this hill Adam built a
templo, and Mahomet'performed his devo
tions ; 7. On the following day the Pil
grims all go in a body to tho Valley of
Mouna, and thero Sacrifice propitiary vic
tims ; they also cut their hair and nails, de
voutly burying the portion cut off. After
remaining two days at Mouna, they again
visit the temple of Mecca, aud then pre
pare for their departure.
The Cemetery, With the Inscription
upon the Doorposts, ‘I am the Resur
rection and the Life,’ Recommended.
—Let this be done, and in few a years this
will become a loved and oft-frequented re
sort, where lessons of wisdom and piety
may be learned, inspirations from the eter
nal world may be caught; aud the heart
may be saddened and made the better.
What a stand-point is this from which to
view the vanity of the world : the evan
tesconse of all human glory. Here is the
last end of man aud the living will lay it
to heart. And while the feet of filial af
fection pay their wonted visit to a mother's
groye, or those of maternal love to the lit
tle mound where sleeps the first-born ; or
other friends, like Maiy, come to weep at
the grave of buried love, and strow it
with fiowers and plant tho rose to bloom
there; oh, how will thAir faith in certain
resurrection of the sleepers hero be quick
ened as their eyou shall rest upon that
declaration of Him who conquered death
and triumphed over the tomb, which we
hope will grace the portals of this house
of the dead. And as they walk through
these avenues‘Beneath the rugged elms,
the yew tree’s shade.’ and_behold the put
ting” forth of the foliage, and the upspring
ing of the grass and the fiowers after win
ter’s dentil ; and lee all nature which had
wrapped herself in the winter snows as her
winding-sheet, laying aside her funeral
robe, and springing in fresh and beautiful
life from tho grave; they will rejoice to
see through the great fact of the resurrec
tion revealed by God, analogies iu these
revivifications of nature, of the great and
heart-cheering truth, which all the wisdom
of the world has ever failed, without that
revelation, to lead in the same things. So
that now the heart of such pious wanderer
here could not only sing, ‘O death ! where
isthv sting ? O grave ! where is thy victory?
but can sing also, as spring revives aud
nature smiles:
Shall I be left abandoned in the dust,
When fate, relenting, lets the fiowet revive l
Shall nature’s voice, to man alone unjust,
Deny Him, doomed to perish, hope to live ?
Is it for this fair virtue oft must strive
With disappointment, penury, and pain ?
No ; Heaven's immortal spring shall yet
arriye;
Aud man’s majestic beauty Moom again,
Bright through the eternal year of love’i*
triumphant reign.
Rev. 3. R. Allen.
Dignity of Character.
The word dignity is often falsely ap
preciated. It is by many persons supposed
to relate to that which is grand and lofty,
and is associated only with the characters
and actions of those who occupy elevated
positions in society. But true dignity,
which is the opposite of meanness, belongs
to no one condition of life exclusively, and
it is to be found in the cottage as’ well as
in the palace, among the humble and labor
ing classes as well as among the titled and
wealthy of the land.
It is not to be denied, however humili
ating may be. the admission, that many
women —and especially to young women
we address these Vein arks—pay but little
regard to true dignity $i character, that
their estimate of dignity is at variance
with truth, frivolous in its nature, and de
structive in its tendency. Entertaining
the idea that to be dignified one must he
proud, that to excite admiration in others
one must make a display of what is not
commonly possessed, the unhappy victims
of these ephemeral desires neglect substan
tial qualities and exhaust the best energies
ol life;
To make a display of learning, virtue,
religion, ge,nerosity, wit,originality, money,
property, or rauk, is incompatible with
true dignity of character.
Faithfully to discharge the duties which
devolve upon es, conscientiously to re
cognise and fulfil every obligation of our
position, to do our duty in the monotonous
nnu quiet scenes of practical life, constitues
oue claim to true dignity. It is only by
seeking in youth to devolope habits of in
dustry, order, and self-restraint that we
can hope to attain this character, or to be
renJered fit for the trials and duties which
await us— Ltfr 1/lutfratcd.
i7A cotton factory, capable of rotining
twenty-five hundred spindles, hasjost been
put iu operation in Ji-fTeiiJO City, La.
The Greatest Duel on Record.
An old Mississippian furnishes the fol
lowing to the Woodville (Miss.) Republi
can :
The famous duel in which forty or more
gentlemen were engaged, in 1828, is still
remembered in Natchez. Col. Jim Bowie,
the famous fighter and inventor of tho
knife which bears his name, used to spend
a great deal of his time in Natchest. He was
challenged by a gentleman of Alexandria,
La., whose friends, to the number of twen
ty or more, accompanied him to Natchez
to see fair play, knowing Bowie was a des
perate man, and ,liis own friends about him.
All pavties went upon the field. The com
batants took their places in the centre;
separated from thoir friends in the rear,
far enough not to endanger them with
their balls. Behold the battle array thus:
Twenty armed Louisianians fifty yards be
hind their champion and his seconds and
surgeon, aud opposite them as far behind,
Bowie and his seconds aud surgeon, twenty
armed Mississippians. Behold the bights
of Natchez thronged with spectators, and
a steamer in the river rounded to its decks
black with passengers, watching with a
deep interest the scene. The plan of fight
was to exchange shots twice with pistols,
and to close with knives, Bowie being
armed with his own terrible weapon,
the first fire both parties escaped. At tlie
second the Louisianian was too quick aud
took advantage of Bowie, who waited the
word. At this Bowie’s second cried “fool
play!” and shot the Louisianian dead..
The second of. the latter instantly killed
the slayer of his principal. Bowie drove
his knife into this man. The surgeons now
crossed blades, while, with loud battle
cries, came on the two parties of friends,
the light of battle in tbeir eyes. In a mo
ment the whole number were engaged in
a fearless conflict.. Dirks, pistols and
knives were used with fatal effect, until
one party drove the other from the field.
I do not know how many were killed and
wounded in all, but it was a dreadful
slaughter. Bowie fought like a lion, but
fell ccvered with wounds. For months
he lingered at the Mansion House before
he fully recovered.
A*Great aud Glorious Country.
Read tho following description of Mis
sissippi and her people, given by some em
igrant who has moved to that State, and
writes to his friends. Here it is:
“This is a glorious country ! It has long
er rivers, and more ot them, and they are
muddier and deeper, and run taster, and
make more noise, rise, higher, fall IcwerO
and do more damage than any body else’s
rivers. It has more lakes, and they are
bigger, and deeper, and clearer, than those
of any other country. Our rail cars aro big
ger, and run faster, and pitch off’ tho track
oftener, and kill more people, . than all
other rail cars, in this and every other
country. Our steamboats carry bigger
loads, are longer and i roader, and burst
their boilei'4 ottener, and the captains swear
harder, than steamboat captains iu any oth
er country. Our men are bigger, and longer
and thicker, can fight harder aud faster,
and drink more mean whiskey, and chew
more bad tobacco, and spit more and spit
further, aud not be killed, than in any
other country. Our ladies are richer,
prettier, dress finer, spend more money ;
break more hearts, wear bigger hoops,
shorter dresses, and kick up the devil gen
erally, to a greater extent, than all other
ladies in all other countries. Our niggers
are blacker, work harder, have thicker
skulls, smell louder, and need thrashing
oftener than any niggers in any’ other State.
Onr children squall louder, grow faster,
get too exteusive for their pantalooDs
quicker, than any other children in any
other country.
•Well, this is a great country. Hang a
man that won’t praise his own country.
I have written you all the news that is in
this country.
Yours, till death, .”
Keep off Dat Heel.*
Isaiah Smith is black enough to pass for
the spades. His body presents the Ethi
opian formation, - ithout blemish. lie
exhibits the waoly head, the thick lips and
tho long heels—Now, Isaiah is a peaceable
mac, and being peaceable, no one lias a
right totrampon his heels. Yet somebody
did do it the other night down on race
street and Cherry alley, and besides that,
gave Isaiah a ‘clue* on his left cheek.—
How it happened we do not know to a cer
tainty, but we will let Julius Caesar And
erson, a wooly-headed friend of Isaiah's,
tell the story. One Joseph Wellenkamp,
being charged with assaulting Isaiah, in the
Police Coui t this morning, Jnlius Caisar
Anderson was called up for a witness:
•Well, yon see boss,’ said he, after being
swim, ‘I cooks down on Sixth -street. —
Well, I meets Isaiah, and sez Isaiah to
me, ‘Dal wife of mine berry sick, Julias,
an’ I wants you to gwy ’long down an’
see her.’ ‘Doesn’t care if I does,’ sen 1 to
Isaiah, so down dar we goes. Well, Isaiah’s
wife was berry sick. We gwys into de
house an’ found her in de bed. How is
you?’ sez Ito Isaiah’s wife. Dam tick,’
sez she, ‘but l links if Isaiah go gets mi
a holotvL sassage, leafs it and gets better /’
This created a roar of laughter, which
caused Julius to roll np the whitest of his
eyes and ext burned ;
Terms—Sl,so Always In Adrance.
‘Dat’s so ! She want de sassage, so
Isaiah and I gwys ’long for de sassage.
We gets to de streets and Isaiah yells out
‘Get-off dat heel!’ Sez I, ‘Bress de lor,’
I ain’t on yer heel, Isaiah.’ DeD he looks
aroun,’ and dnr stood dat white man, stan
d’in’ on Isaiah’s heel I*
Here the laughter drowued the witness’
voice. After awhile he continued :
•Lor’ a mighty, I war skeered. You
better b'lieve I takes de outside by de curb
—Deu dat white man he get off Isaiah’s
heel an’ he up fist an* fotch him a lick
right spang in de face. Uen sez I, ‘Legs,
do him duty, an’ I runs like de berry deb*
bel. When dis chicken comes back he
goes de odder way, he did.’
Such was the cream of Julius Caesar's
testimony. Both he and Isaiah swore
positively that the accused stood on the
latter’s heel. On the other side. Wellen
kamp brought in two witnesses who swore
that he never touched Isaiah, and that one
of them, named Hinton, was the fellow- that
offended Isaiah. The Court gave Julius
Cscaar’s testimoney the preference, found
Wellenkamp guilty, and fined him $5 and
costs. There must have been *tar on dat
heel.’ —Cincinnati Times.
♦ •
Physical Benefit of Sunday.
The Sabbath is God's special present to
the working man, and one of the chief ob
jects is to prolong bis life, and preserve ef
ficient bis working tone. In the vital sys
tem it acts like a compensation bond, it
replenishes the spirit, the elasticity and
vigor, which the last six days have drained
away, and supplies the force which is to
fill the next six days succeeding; and in
the economy of existence, it answers the
same purposes as, in the economy of in
come, is Answered by the Savings Bank.
The frugal man who puts aside a pound
to-day, and another pound next month, and
who in a quiet way is always putting a
way his stated pound from time to time,
when he grows old and frail, gets not only
the same pounds back again, hut a. good
many more besides. And the conscientious
man who husbands one day of every week,
who instead of allowing the Sabbath to he
trampled on, and torn, in the hurry and
scramble of life, treasures it devoutly up—
the Lord of the Sabbath keeps it front him,
and length of days and hale old age gives
it back with usury. The Savings Bank of
human existence is the weekly Sabbath.
The Marrying Season in Ireland.— From
New Year’s day tc the commencement of
Lent is the great marrying season in many
parts of Ireland. A late liish Journal,
says:
The “Irish marrying season” has been,
this year, more, than usually successful,
much to the advantage of the clergy, the
benefit of grocers, butchers, bakers, &c. f
and the delectation of wedding goers.
The middle classes particularly made a
first rate turn out of it, and seldom within
the same space of time have so many of
their number fallen willing victims to the
artful wilds df Cupid as during the last
month. The Lotharios, too, have been
most liboral in the payment of the mar
riage fees, and many “Good Father” but
toned his pocket upon a .£2O or <£3o note,
after performing the ceremony, as a reward
of his kind service.
Gentleness and Ferocity. —The study of
man is oftentimes aided by the study of
brutes, as there are striking analogies of
character between them. Dnring an expe
dition to the Arctic Sea, a wolf-hunt was
got up. The person who describes it shows
himself to be a sound philosopher as well as
sportsman, llis observations taught him a
fact. A wolf, when brought to bay by'a
•wound, crouches down sneakishly, and re
fuses to look up even when pulled about
and otherwise ignominiously treated; but
a deer in such circumstances, however se
verely wounded, always attempts to de
fend himself, lookiug up fearlessly, and
using his horns to some effect. The wolf
in freedom is a savage, and the deer all
timidity. Hence, the conclusion, that
ferocity and cowardice, and gentleness and
courage, generally go togethor. So a nat
urally cruel man is very frequently at
heart a coward, while a -mild, kind-hearted
man, has both moral and physical courage.
In times of extremity, the man of few
words, not the noisy braggart, can be de
pended on.— Watchman if Reflector.
•‘Amelia, for thee—yes, at thy command
I’d tear this eternal firmament into a thou
sand fragments ; I’d gather tho stars, one
by one, as they tumble from the regions of
space, and put them in my trow
sers pocket; I’d pluck the sun, that orien
tal god of day that traverses the blue arch
of heaven in such majestic splendor—l'd
tear him from the. sky and quench his
bright effulgence in the fountain of my love
for thee!” “Don't, Henry ; it will be ip
very dark!”
Lapsus Livm,.*.—On Saturday a young
lady entered one of our music stores, for
the purpose of purchasing a piece of music
entitled “When 1 sleep. I Dream of Thee,”
by one of those ludicrous mistakes which
will sometimes happen in the bestof fami
lies, she astonished the young gentleman
of the store by inquiring i( be bad tbe
music entitled “When F Dream, l sleep}
with T/iee!'’ The mistake brought a
modest blush to the check of the fair in
quirer—-ditto to the young maw* Ska. *7*
the dvlms Sentinel.
NUMBER 14.