Newspaper Page Text
190
fflWisceUcmcoutr Select-tone,
SUCKED IK.”
There is a shrewd ami wealthy old landlord away
down in M:.ine, who is noted for driving his ‘ sharp
bargains, ’ by which he amassed a large amount of
property. He is the owner of u large number of
dwelling houses, and it is said of him that lie is not
over scrupulous of his rental charges, whenever he
ean find a customer whom lie knows to be rtwpoim
bh. His object is to lease his house for a term of
years to the best tenants, and get the uttermost far
thing in the shape of rent.
A diminutive Frenchman called on him last w in
ter, to hire a dwelling lie owned in Portland, and
which had long remained empty. References were
given, nnd the landlord, ascertaining that the tenant
was a man ‘after his own heart,’ immediately com
menced to ‘jaw’ him. He found that the tenement
appeared to suit the Frenchman, and he placed an
exorbitant price upon it; the leases were drawn and
duly executed, and the tenant removed into his new
quarters.
Upon kindling fires in tin* house, it was found that
the chimneys wouldn’t draw, and the building was
filled with smoke. The window sashes rattled at
night, and the cold air rushed in through a hundred
crevices about the house, until now unnoticed. Ihe
snow melted upon the roof, and the attics drenched
with leakage. The rain pelted, and our Frenchman
found a ‘natural’ bath room upon the second floor—
but the lease was signed, and the landlord chuckled.
“I hav been vat you called ‘sucked in’ vis z>s darn
maiton,” muttered our victim to himself, a week af
terwards, “bnt n'imyortt , ve sal see vat ve sal see. ”
Next morning he arose blight and early, and while
pa sing down, he encountered the landlord.
“Ah ho! fionjovr, monsieur,” said he, >n bishap
piest manner.
“Hood day, sir. How do you like your house?”
“Ah! monsieur—elegant, heauti.nl, magnificent.
Id It him monsieur, 1 have but zc one regret !”
“Ah! what’s that ?”
“Monsieur, I sail live in zat house hut tree little
year.”
“How so?”
“I find by vat you call ze lease, zat you have give
me ze house foi but tree year, and 1 very much sor
ry for zat.”
“But of course you can have it longer if you wish.”
“Ah, monsieur, sail he very mooch glad iff have
za . house so long as 1 please—eh monsieur?”
“Oh, certainly sir.”
“Tree lien, monsieur! 1 sail valk right to your
offices, and you sail give me vat you •••ill ze lease for
zat maison, just as long as I sail vnnt ze house. Eh
monsieur?”
“Certainly, sir. You can stay there your lifetime,
if you like.”
“Ah, Monsieur—l have very much tank you for’
7,e accommodation.”
The old lease was destroyed and anew one was \
delivered in form to the Frenchman, giving him pos
session of llie premises for “suc h a period as the
leassec shall desire the same, he paying the rent
promptly,” Ac.
The next morning our crafty landlord was passing
the house just us the Frenchman's last load of furni
ture was being started from the door; an hour aflci
wards, a messenger called on him with a legal tender,
for the rent of eight days, accompanied with a iiol<
as follows:
“Monsieur—l have bin smoke— 1 have bin droun
ed 1 have bin freeze to death in ze house vat 1 have
hire of you for ze pi riod as I mav desire. I have
stay in ze dam house jes so long as. I please, and ze
hearer of zis will give you ze key ! /G rir, mon
sieur.’
It is needless to add that our landlord has never
since been known to give up “a bird in the hand for
two in the bushes.”
DO IT TOURSELVEB, BOYS.
Po not ask the teacher, oi some classmate to solve
that hard problem. Do it yourself. You might as
“ell let them eat your dinner, us “do your sums” for
you. It is in studying, as in eating; hetlui does it
gets the benefit, and not he that sees it done. In al
most every school, I would give more for what the
teacher learns, than for what the best scholar learns,
because the teacher is compelled to solve all the hard
problems, and answer the questions of the laty boys.
Po not ask him to parse the difficult words or assist
yon in the performance of any of your studies. Do
it yourself. Never mind, though they look as dark
as Kgypt. Don't ask even a hint from any body.
Iry again. Every trial increases your ability, and
yon w 11 finally succeed by dint of the very wisdom
and strength gained in the effort,even though at first
the problem was beyond your skill. It is the study
and not the answer, that really rewards your pains.
’ . V.,. m j iv ■> til Vl.’ JV'VII I'aill.'t, .
Look at that boy who has just succeeded, after six .
horns of hard study, perhaps; how his large eye is
lit up with proud joy, as he marches to his class. — ‘
lie treads like a conqueror. And well he may.
Last night bis lamp burned late, and this morning he
“uked at dawn. Once or twice he nearly gave up.
lie trod Ids last thought; but anew thought strikes
him as he ponder* the last process. He tries once
more ,od succeeds; and now mark the air of cons i
"U- , j i with which he pronounces hia demon
“ poor, weak schoolmate who gave up |
‘ l il ‘ pi ■ dem after bis first faint trial, now looks
up to, .to with something ot wonder, as to a superior
L ing. Ami he is his uporior That problem lies
here, great gulf between those hovs who stood
yt Merday .side by sid c . They will never stand to
gether as equal agam. Ihe boy that did it for him-
Ml! has taken a stride upward, and what is better
rt,n ’ *** mrd .strength to take other and greater
ouc*. The boy who waited to see others do it, lias
OSI f H,lh s,rt '"gth and courage, and is alreadv look
's tor some excuse to give up school and study for
ever. Cohn. .SrW Journal.
OCCUPATION.
• “ KW ’ o ,"* *i* foi tho human heart!
‘■•v mLT ‘r* WW ° m yW * ‘hemselves on
s ‘Wciwj or I'ctil sorrpti’ \v *. .
Wn, fold* ,u t 7 “” “ k’ n er sits
k Oars , V" 1 - feels upon its
I ~’,-I,’, ,t ' W ’bat little
xing V m is sh ,rt ’ T ANARUS%y ’ f*H. the
“or master * >TT °*
troubles flow iqonyou dark and
heavy, toil not with the wave-, wre tie not with the
torrent; rather seek, by occupation, to divert the
dark waters that threaten to overwhelm you into a
thousand channels which the duties of life always
present. Before you dream of it, those waters will
fertilize the present, and give birth to fresh flowers
that may brighten the future—flowers that will be
come pure and holy in the sunshine which penetrates
to the path of duty in spite of every obstacle. Grief,
after all, is but a selfish feeling, nnd most selfish is
the man who yields himself to the indulgence of any
passion which brings nojoy to his fellowtnan.
Sable*’
ASLEEP,
Nothing short of the realizing experience of ‘a
child taken” could stir such a depth of feeling as
characterizes these beautiful and most pathetic lines,
by “D.” entitled “Asleep -"—Home Journal
My children are asleep- silent my room,
So hushed 1 hear each pulse of my own heart,
Replying to each breath of my sweet boy.
Stilled are the very children in the street —
Passing with softened laughter, while they gaze
Wistfully at my curtained window-pane;
Then, whispering, seem to say—the children sleep.
Within my loving arms my noble hnv
Sank playfully to rest; the dimpled hands
Patted their baby measures, then grew still,
And listlessly dropped ou his snowy breast—
The laughing lips, essaying the first words
Infancy loves to utter, fainter spoke,
Till the ‘‘mamma” was murmured dreamily -
And the blue eyes that wonderingly looked
In my sad face, were weary, nnd the lids
Heavy with their dark fringe, drooped over them.
Fondly I kiss his brow, and ns I lay
The perfect rounded form upon his couch
My soul goes up in thankfulness to Him
Who gives that lovely one hix tranquil sleep ;
Fervently I pray that He would ever keep
“Our darling undefiled, and pure as now.”
But then I shudder at that prayer so vain—
His spirit, like the snow-flake, if it re st
Where earth may taint its purity, must lose
Its chasteness, or exhale to Heaven. Alas!
Alas! I’ve breathed that prayer in by gone years—
And now, in grief too deep for tears, must own
My prayer has been fulfilled.
My daughter sleeps—
The datk hair parted on her thoughtful brow,
The eyes that, waking, beamed with jov and love,
Half closed, as if the last unbroken sleep
Relentingly hid loved ones from her sight.
The ever busy fingers, as in life
(’las; and round the msc-hnds that she loved so well,
Pillov ‘ mid blossoms is death’s night less daik
Since wo have strewn with flowers thy narrow bed ?
Tho t little feet, whose joy-expressing step
Made welcome music in our garden walk
l>oe the green sodle.-s coldly on them press
For the rose blooming o’er thy resting-place ‘.
A\ 1 dreamless is thy sleep—no thought will come
Os a lone bed within thy saddened home,
Os all the hitter fairs that have bedewed
The now tmrufHed pillow, thy dear head
So oft has pressed—the holy cherished spot
Where thy sweet form so often bent in prayer
That thrilled our hearts with its deep earnestness.
“She is not dead, but slecpetli”—ah! while TANARUS,
In sorrow’s darkle ss, watchful vigils keep,
t’ould hut one ray of heavenly light illume
My saddened life, then with a chastened tread
I’ll walk earth's pilgrimage until the hour
When He “whogiveth his beloved sleep”
Shall close my weary eyes, to wake,
Welcomed at Heaven’s gate by thy seraphic hand,
My angel daughter.
THE MOURNER.
“Pear Mamma, 1 am very lonely now,” said a silkv
haired girl of some five summers, as she sat reclining
on her parent’s lap one pleasant afternoon, it’s very
lonely now, since little sister has gone away; and
she has been gone so long. Shall not I see her again
soon ?”
“No, not in thin world, my child. Sister has gone
to live with the angels. She has now another home
than ours. God will now care for and protect her
from all evil, if you are good, he will some duv take
you to live with Him, and be with sister.”
“But, mother, this home is very pleasant and be
fore sister went away, i was very happy. I love to
run alsuit and play hi the pleasant sunshine, and to
pluck the pretty flowers t at grow in t ie meadows
among the tall grass. And it is so pleasant to walk
along the edge of the little brook, and to look at the
tiny fishes with their silveiy tins. And when the
heather grows a little larger, I shall so delight to
gather the pretty violets that you so much admire.
Don’t you remember that papa used to sav they look
ed just like mol'”
1 he mother compressed her lips, and wiped awav 1
from her eye the falling tear. Too much like the vi
olet diil it seem that her child w as—and she thought
that ere they should again blossom, her child would
have been claimed by them who gave its birth. ‘ But
my child,’ she said, in answer to the little one’s en-’
| quiries, ‘there is n better and a fairer world, where
there is never any winter— where the bright tloweis
never fade, nor ever droop nnd die ; where clouds
never obscure the sky, ami where friends meet that
will never lie parted from u more 1’
“And may Igo to that happy place and will you
go with me too. dear mamma
“Yes, my child,” said the mother. \\, wilt go there
when God shall he pleased to call u- horm—and
when there we shall dwell in His sight forever.
A sow months passed away, and the sweet child
was laid in -.he ground, and the mother planted o’er
her grave the modest blue violet, fit token of herow n
too early blighted hopes. That mother was now
alone? The hnshaud of her heart had been called
away- next her eldest child, and lastly her idolized
and only one. But, did she pine away ,n despair: 1
Ah, me’ 1 hat mother had found peace with Gou
and had Warned to believe that “He doeth all things
the holy hours of solitude she enjoyed the
I “'T T*’ Ith”1 th ” H ° ,V SpiHt ’ '* exalted
II * arth ’ *” f'Cstow. —Sj Irii of the Ay,.
THE TEMPERANCE BANNER.
£j}c Ccmpentnce fanner.
PENFIELD, GEORGIA.
Saturday Morning, December 1, 1855.
AGENCY RECALLED.
We would give particular notice, that Augustus
Heard, better known as the Rat Killer General, who
was appointed by us an Agent for our Paper, is no
longer authorized to receive subscriptions. Those
who pay subscriptions to him for our Paper, do it at
their own risk.
ELECTIONS DY THE PRUDENTIAL COMMITTEE.
Mr. Wise, of Fort Valley’, has been elected by the
Prudential Committee to fill the vacancy, temporari
ly, in the Professorship of Languages in our Univer
sity, Col. R. M. Johnson, of Hancock, the Professor
elect, declining the honor.
Mr. G. J. H. Prior, of Morgan, was elected Princi
pal of the Academy. This gentleman has had twelve
years experience in the business of teaching, and
brings with him the full confidence of all his former
patrons. With Mr. P. as head, we sincerely trust
our Academical School, maintaining the reputation
it has long enjoyed under the able and efficient ad
ministration of the retiring Incumbent, will continue
to grow in interest and importance. Rev. T. 1). Mar
tin lias had charge of the Preparatory Department
for many years, nnd has filled the situation with
ability, and leaving, carries the good will of all his
neighbors arid patrons.
B. 11. OVERBY.
We see it stated in some of our ooteuiporaries that
the above named gentleman, and the Rev. Dr. Jesse
Boring, of Atlanta, are to take charge of the Editori
al department of the “Southern Times,” a staunch
temperance sheet, published at Montgomery, Ala.—-
We are bitterly opposed to Mr. Overby’s leaving
Georgia to labor in the great work of Reform, for we
have great need of his ability in our own “rum-be
nighted” State. But should he leave, we invoke
High Heaven to bless his labors. His noble exer
tions will prove a lasting benefit to the people of Geor
gia, and the seed which he has sown will spring up
in richness to glorify ami honor his memory’.
LEGISLATURE.
We have just space sufficient to make a passing
notice of this body. We are happy to learn that
both Houses possess considerable talent, and that
they are putting up business in the proper manner.
We see it stated in some of our Exchanges that there
never has been at any previous Session, as many
valuable Bills presented during the first three weeks.
It is thought the present session will be equally as
long as env preceding one ; there is a vast amount
of important business before both Houses, which
shoo'd receive careful consideration before final dis
posal.
It is a source of much regret to us that our sheet
is so small that we are unable to lay before our read
ers the proceedings entire of our Legislature. It is
impossible to make an interesting extract, since we
can’t toll which bills created the most excitement.—
We will have more room another y r ear.
AUCTION.
W. A. Colclough & (’>., of our Town, are selling
off their stock of Goods at public auction, holding
sale hours on every Friday and Saturday, and we
learn that it is their intention to continue the opera
tion until they have sold out. We have not been
present at one of their sales as y’et, but would guess
one might get good bargains by attending them.
MONROE FEMALE UNIVERSITY.
We have received a Catalogue of this nourishing
i Institution. Wo learn that Mr. R. T. Asbury, who
has been teaching the present year in our Town, has
been elected to a professorship in this Institution.—
This was an excellent selection, and we predict much
prosperity for this Institution, under the management
of Prof. Asbury and the able and accomplished Presi
dent, Rev. W. C. Wilkes. We invite particular at
tention to the advertisement in this paper.
GEORGIA FEMALE COLLEGE, i,
We have received a Catalogue of this well-known j
College, and are pleased to notice its increasing pros- i
perity. They have changed the time of holding Com
mencement from July to October —a good idea, we
think. We arc gratified to see several names in the
Normal School, which excellent feature is peculiar
to this College. The number of pupils is 184.
DRUB STORE.
We would call the attention of our readers to the
Advertisement of Dr. Wm. S. Meiere, Madison, Ga.,
in this paper. We have had the pleasure of visiting
his Establishment recently, and examining his stock
of Drugs and Fancy Articles. He has just replen
ished his Store with anew stock entire, and it will
. now compare with any similar establishment in the
Southern country. He has several articles of bis
own manufacture, in which there is no counterfeit,
and will answer the purposes for which they were
designed, such as Hair Restorative, Carminative Elix-!
lit, l'ooth Paste, Ac. Read his Advertisement
YEAR BOOK OF AGRICULTURE.
We have been favored with a copy of the Annual
I f AtfHmUut'ul Prog re** and Dieeoreryfor 1855-fi.
! The object of this book is to aid the development
and record the progress of Agriculture in all its de- 1
pertinents. Every important discovery and improve
ment in Agricultural Mechanics, Agricultural Che
mistry, Agricultural and Horticultural Botany, Agri
cult mat and Economic Geology, Agricultural Zoolo
gy, Meteorology, Ac., is here fully and particularly
.recorded. It contains, id so, the Statistics of Ameri
can growth and production; a catalogue of fruits’
adapted to the different sections of the United States,
with a revi, w by the editor of the progress of Ame
rie-in :ii'd foreign Agriculture for the year
is i Hum rat and with numerous engravings. We give
’ it a hearty recommendation to the Farmers through
-1 out our country, as a neatly bound volume, contain
ing all the information desirable connected with the
science of Agriculture. For copies, address David
A. Wells, 124 Areh-st., Philadelphia.
SOUTHERN CULTIVATOR.
We have received the last number of the 13th vol
ume of this able agricultural monthly. Several new
and important features will be introduced in the next
volume. Every firmer should take it. Published
by W. S. Jones, Augusta, Go., at #2 per annum.
PUFF.
Wc return our heartfelt thanks to our esteemed
friend who gave us such a “soul elevating,” and
“self-inflating” “puff,” and assure him that it is duly
appreciated, and that we feel much better since re
ceiving it. but he piles up good thing upon good thing
to such “Alpine height” that we are afraid to pub
lish it, as requested, lest sotneof our “jealous” friends
should doubt its “genuineness,” and accuse us of
manufacturing it ourself.
A BEAUTIFUL HAND.
“A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” says the
sweetest of Poets, and the experience of every sensi
tive mind confirms the truth of the sentiment. But
few minds are so poor and destitute as to have no
treasury of unfailing joys, arising from delightful as
sociations, connected with someone of the ever-vary
ing forms of remembered beauty. A familiar air of
tiie dim past, an almost forgotten tune, the glance of
an eye, a pressure of tile hand, a hue, a tint, the
slightest cause may he the divining rod that indicates
hidden fountains of joy, which gladden the heart
with the music of their waves.
So lingers in our memory the remembrance of a
beautiful hand. Like that which, in ancient times,
wrote the fearful destiny of the trembling King, there
are bands which arc ever tracing strange characters,
and writing beautiful things on “memory’s pictured
wall.” We have seen them, with their gracefully
tapering fingers, dimpling in eddies of beauty at
every joint, w ake the very soul of music in the life
less instrument, and make it utter passion and feel
ing like a “thing of life.” So may they play upon
the lyre of the human heart, attuning it to deeds of
noble daring, stilling with a gentle touch, the trem
bling strings of rage and discord, or sweeping skill
fully its wondrous chords, wake the softest, sweetest
tones of earth.
Wc have seen them twining the fragrant posy of
dewy roses, carefully weeding the blooming parterre,
training the tender tendrils of the trellised vine, wa
tering the drooping plant, weaving with silken thread
some kind wish or gentle word among the beautiful
devices of embroidery, and in every situation, we
could but admire their graceful cunning and witching
beauty. But beautiful as they were, how much more
beautiful, when employed in charming from the brow
of suffering humanity the dull pain of agony, in mois
tening the parched lip, in soothing the fever-heated
temples, in plucking from the hitman heart the weeds
of vice and planting there the seeds of virtue, in
training beautiful feelings to clasp their tendrils
around the soul’s inner shrines, in unraveling the
knots of care in “life’s tangled yarn,” in pouring the
balm of consolation upon the bruised spirit, and in
scattering along life’s rugged pathway, with a free
and bounteous benevolence, the flowers of kindness
and charity, to gladden with their beauty and fra
grance tho heart of the dust-covered wayfarer.
The eye that drops the tear of sympathy for the
suffering is beautiful, and also the lip tremulous with
emotion, but the hand that gives, however symmetri
cal it may be, grows radiant with tho superadded
glory of a tenfold beauty. Kind words and gentle
smiles, distil a joy upon the soul soft and sweet as
the dews of heaven, but when in Friendship we
grasp a fair hand, throbbing with the bounding pulse
of affection, and warm with the heat that radiates from
the heart’s hearth-stone, wc know there is no decep
tion, and feel that it is beautiful. Clasped hands are
the expressive symbols of friendship and fidelity;
and there is a sight too sacred for “vulgar eyes to
see,” when Beauty, and Truth, and holy Trust sit
brooding upon the arch of beautiful hands clasped in
prayer, and Mercy comes down from above.
THE SONG OF HIAWATHA.
We take the following concluding lines of a poeti
cal notice of Longfellow's new poem, from that ex
cellent paper, the Philadelphia Saturday Bulletin. —
It hits off finely, the intioduction of hard Indian
names in the poem, and the use of iteration, which
has never been so successfully used by any poet, as
it was by the gifted and lamented Poe. The poeti
cal critic says of the Poem :
It is full of Indian legends,
Indian legends mytliologic,
Legends inythologic tolling
Mytliologic Indian fables,
Indian fables full of marvels.
It is full of Indian jargon,
Mcshinauwa, Miujekahwa,
Gitche-Gumee, Mudway-Aushka,
tJkahahwis, Mahnabezee,
Pahpukkeena, Shangodaya,
Dushkwoueshe, Kokokoho,
Minnclmha, Wahwahtaysee.
<if the Winds and their flirtations,
The r affairs of heart and nuptials,
Tails this song of Hiawatha;
Toils of miracles, of fasting,
Os strange vigils in the wigwam;
Tells of phantoms cold and ghostly,
Tells of hunting and of battles.
But ’tis very tedious reading,
Tho’ ’tis very easy writing;
For this plain trochaic jingle
Never asks the toil of rhyming,
Never asks for rhyme or reason.
So this poem of Longfellow,
The Professor, Mishc-Wawa,
Writ in trochees, Groco-j ingle,
Will distr ss the critics sadly,
And they'll all say the Professor,
Mishe-Wawa, great Longfellow,
Must write something plainer, sweeter,
Or this mighty, great Longfellow,
Will pronounced be something shorter.
-*••*-
SENSIBLE.
Some wide-awake chap, who has tried it, insists
that courting in the country is altogether a different
’ institution from the city .article. In the former place,
he says, you get ioy lips, sweet cider, johnny cakes,
and <rirh made by nature ; and in the latter, a col
lection of starch phrases, formal manners, tine silk,
great jewelry, and girls got up tec undent artem. —
He advises his friends to go to the rural districts
when they want to supply themselves with a good
style of calico.
“THE DARK BEVERAGE OF HELL.”
The Rev. Dr. Tyng, referring to this epithet of the
poet, applied to rum, is said to have spoken as fol
lows: —“Did Heaven ever mix such a cup for man?
Amid nil the dews that descend frow Heaven's snows
upon Zion’s happy top, does one drop of alcohol come
down? Amid nil the floods that pour from Alpine
heights, that fertilize and beautify Europe’s vales,
does one single drop of alcohol come down? Amid
all the rippling fountains that cause the hloom of
i many a glen and sylvan hank in all our western u fids
j and woods, does one single drop of alcohol ever flow ?
1 Did Heaven ever mix a cup like this for man? Could
j earth do it? No! 1 verily believe this child of sor
j row has actually touched the actual fnet of its origin
—‘the dark beverage of hell,’ and the great being,
the agent evil. Men may question his existence
■ while they are pulling the traces of his labor—the
great being, the instrument of evil, alone can tell the
full purpose of its origin or the full product of its
effects.”
VANITY OF REGRET.
The following lines were written by Omar Rhiam
one of the most distinguished Persian poets. He
flourished in the year 1200. It is translated by the
accomplished Miss Costello:
Nothing in this w orld of ours
Flows as we would have it flow;
What avail, then, careful hours,
Thought and trouble, tears and woe?
Through the shrouded veil of earth
Life’s rich colors beaming bright,
Though in truth of little worth,
Yet allure with meteor light.
Life is torture and suspense :
Thought is sorrow—drive tThence!
With no will of mine I came,
W ith no will depart the same.
HOG-OGRAPUY.
The Erie Constitution—a very nice paper—has
the following “on record.”
“Francis Pigg has strayed off from Indianapolis
having Mrs. Pigg and the little pigg* to hunt their
own feed hereafter. We'l! do our share towards zo
ning them.”
Since reading the above, (gays the Bulletin,) we
are happy to learn that Pigg left a small sty-penned
for his interesting family. By the last advices wc
are informed that his youngest boy, Barkis, wa*
swillin'.
Mrs. Pigg, though she always professed to consid
er her husband as a great bore , has consented to ac
cept this stipend as a m-pension of hostilities, though
she is apprehensive that he has another stye in his
eye. We can coinfort her with the assurance that
he will be cured one of these days as many a rasher
one has been. He is at present probably hanging
about some of the s%y-shops of the city.
SESTTliinking that our young readers may be
pleased with something of this kind, wo insert the
following Puzzle, which appeared in the Boston Dai
ly Transcript, many years ago:
A PUZZLE.
I
once had —on both 1 set great store—and a
lent my—and took his word therefor—to my
asked my—and nought but words I got —of my
lost my —for sue him I would not —and my
Money Friend.
At last my—which pleased me very well-oame front my
I got my—away quite from me fell—but mv
If I had—as I had once before—and a
I’d keep my—and play the fool no more—and my
(SVtfkptcalu
[published bv bequest.]
For the Banner.
TO AIISS H. M., OF GREENESBORO.
Say it't that you must tread life’s path alone,
That no congenial spirit lingers neat';
For there are, though to you unknown,
Those who hold you iti remembrance dear.
Well do I known the cares of Earth
Have crushed many a loving heart,
And though vve mav join iu scenes of mirth,
’Twill not avert “disappointment’s keen dart.”
But oft times friends are near,
Like guardian angels, to guide and bless,
Then give not way to doubt and fear,
But wisely say, “ ’tis all for the best.”
Then say not that you must journey alone;
That and rk shadows cloud the prospects of youth,
For v. e are all journeying towards that home
Where nought is Lund but lov. and truth.
C.
Greencsboro, Nov. 19, 1855.
For the Banner.
INFLUENCE OF COMMERCE UPON CIVILIZATION.
So many are tile agencies which are now contrib
uting to human advancement and refinement, that it
has become a matter of noslight difficulty to separate
any particular one from the others with which it is
combined, and to give it the weight which is its due.
Among the most powerful of these agents commerce
has played no unimportant part. We purpose to
trace its influence without considering the many oth
er agents with which it is combined, and which have
done so much towards rendering nations wealthy and
powerful, and man cultivated and refined. By com
merce, we do not mean the importation and exporta
tion of material products alone, but all intercourse
carried on between nation and nation, and also be
tween people of the same country. The commerce
of a nation may be considered for the most part as
the “index of its national prosperity.” It can flour
ish to an extended degree only among an intelligent
and refined people. It is true a nation may attain
to a considerable degree of refinement by the advan
tages w hieh accrue from an internal commerce, but
beyond a certain limit, she cannot advance. The
first step towards civilization increases the number
and diversity of the wants of mankind, without cre
ating, at t e same time, the increased ability requi
site to supply those wants; so that it becomes a mat
ter not only of convenience, but of absolute necessi
ty, that exchange be resorted to, in order to obtain
the means for satisfying the multiplied wants of a
more refined nature ; each succeeding step is follow
ed by a corresponding extension of this operation of
exchange, until society has arrived at a high degree
December