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VOL. I
THEY DIBN'T THINIi.
HY I’HWBK CARRY.
Onco a trap wns baited
With a bit of cheese;
It tickled ho a little mouse
It almost made him sneeze.
An old rat said, “There'sdanger,
he careful where you go I"
“Nonsense!” said the other,
“1 don’t think you know 1”
So ho walked in boldly—
Nobody in sight;
First ho took a nibble.
Then ho took a bite;
Close tho trap together
Snapped as quick as wink,
Catching mousey fast there,
’Cause he didn’t think.
Onco a little
Fond of her own way,
Wouldn’t ask tho old ones
Where to go or stay;
She said, “I’m not a baby,
Here I am half grown ;
Surely I am big enough
To run about alone !”
Off she went, but somebody
Hiding saw her pass;
Soon like snow her feathers
Covered all tho gross ;
So she made a supper
For a sly young mink,
’Cause she was so headstrong
That she wouldn’t think.
Onco there was a robin
Lived outside tho do»r,
Who wanted to go inside
And hop upon tho floor,
“Oh, no, said the mother,
“\eu must stay with me ;
Little birds are safest
Hitting in a tree.’’
“I don’t care,” said robin,
And gave his tail a fling;
“I don’t think tho old folks
Know quite everything.”
Down ho flew, and Kitty seized him
Before he’d time to blink ;
“Oh,” ho cried, “I’m sorry,
But I didn’t think.”
Now, my little children,
You who read this song.
Don’t you sco what trouble
Comes of thinking wrong?
And can't you take a warning
From their dreadful fate,
Who began their thinking
Whon it was too late?
Don’t think there’s always safety
Where no danger show's;
Don’t suppose you know more
Than anybody knows;
But when you’re warned of ruin.
Pause upon the brink,
And don’t go undor headlong,
’Cause .you didn’t think.
The Ureal Canon of flic Yelloiv Stone.
The Great Falls are at the head of
euo of the most remarkable canons in
the world—a gorge throigh volcanic
rocks fifty miles long, and varying
from one thousand to nearly five thou
sand feet in depth. In its descent
through this wonderful chasm the riv
er falls almost three thousand feet. At
one point, where the passage has been
worn through a mountain range, our
hunters assured us it was more than
a vertical mile in depth, and the river,
broken into rapids and cascades, ap
peared no wider than a ribbon. The
brain reels as we gaze into this pro
found and solemn solitude. We shrink
from the dizzy verge appalled, glad to
feel the solid earth under our feet, and
venture no more, except with forms
extended, and faces barely protruding
over the edge of the precipice. The
stillness is horrible. Down, down,
down, " the riyer attenuated to a
thread, tossing its miniature waves,
and dashing, with punny strength, the
massive walls which imprison it. All
access to its margin is denied, and the
dark gray rocks hold it in dismal shad
ow. Even the voice of its waters in
their convulsive agony cannot be heard.
Uncheered by plant or shrub, obstruct
ed with massive boulders and by juttiug
points, it rushes madly on its solitary
course, deeper and deeper into the bow
els of the rocky firmament. The sol
emn grandeur of the scene surpasses
description. It must be seen to be felt.
The sense of danger with which it
impresses you is harrowing in the ex
treme. You feel the absence of sound,
the oppression of absolute silence. If
you could only hear that gurgling riv
er, if you could see a living tree in the
depth beneath you, if a bird would fly
past, if the wind would move any ob
ject in the awful chasm, to break for a
moment the solemn silence that reigns
there, it would relieve that tension of
the nerves whicli the scene has excit
ed, and you would rise from your pros
trate condition and thank God that ho
had permitted you to gaze, unharmed,
upon this majestic display of natural
architecture. As it is sympathizing in
spirit with the deep gloom of the scene
you crawl from the dreadful verge,
seared lest the firm rock give way be
neath and precipatate yon into the
horrid gulf.— By N. P Langford , in
Scribner's for Mag.
Good Advice to Dyspeptics.
if a man wishes to get riil of dyspep
sia he must give his stomach and brain
less to do. It will be of no service to
him to follow any particular regimen
—to live on chats bread, or any such
stuff—to weigh his food, etc., so long
as the brain is in a constant state ot
excitement. Let that have proper
rest, and the stomach will perform its
function. But if he pass fourteen or
liftccn hours a day in Ins office or
counting-room, and take no exercise,
his stomach will inevitably become
paralized, and if he puts nothing into
it but a cracker a day, it will not di
gest it. In many casos it is the brain
that is the primary cause. Give that
delicate organ some rest. Leave your |
business behind you when you go to
your home. Do not sit down to your
dinner with your brows knit, and your
mind absorbed in casting up interest
accounts. Never abridge the usual
hour of sleep. Take more or less ex
ercise in the open air every day. Al
low yourself some innocent recrea
tion, Eat moderately, slowly, and of
what you please—provided it be not
the shovel and tongs. If any particu-
lar dish disagrees with you, however,
never touch it, or look at it. Do not
imagine that you must live on rye
bread nor oatmeal porridge ; a reason
able quantity of nutritious food is es
sential to the mind as well as to the
body. Above all, banish all thoughts
of the subject. If you have any trea
tises on dyspepsia, domestic medicine,
etc., put them directly into the fire.
If you arc constantly talking and
thinking about dyspepsia, you will
surely have it. Endeavor to forget
that you have a stomach. Keep a
clear conscience; live temperately,
regularly, cleanly; be industrious too,
hut be temperate. —Boston Journal oj
Chemistry.
Wisdom consiste.li not in knowing
many things, nor even in knowing
them thoroughly; but in choosing
and in following what conduces most
' certainly to our lasting happiness and
true glory.
THE FAIBURN GAZETTE.
PARIS VERSUS FRANCE.
Tlic of I lie Ureal Kevolulion
in flic French i'npllal—'The treat
l islit Between City anil Country,
From the London Economist, April 1.
We showed last week how wide the
chasm between the great cities of
Franco and the country districts has
grown; and this week we have evi
dence of the full consciousness of the
chasm in the explicit profession of faith
published by the revolutionary party
in Paris, which declares for the inde
pendence and federation of the great
commitnes of France, and for securing
for the great cities some guarantee of
sufficien t influence over the central au
thority, “whatever that may be,” in
order to prevent their being swamped,
as they have hitherto been liable to be
swamped, in the representatives sent
up by the country districts. This most
dangerous revolutionary proposal is, in
some sense no d@ubt, a nemesis of the
policy of the imperial government,
which, resting as it did on the igno
rance and conservatism of the rural
population, found itself compelled to
readjust the electoral arrondissements,
so as to neutralize as much as possible
the influence of tho great towns. We
often had occasion, while the Emperor
still reigned, to point out, as the late M.
Prevost Paradol pointed out in his last
very instructive cook, that the first re
quisite of a proper reform bill for France
would be such a readjustment of the
electoral districts as should give the
great cities of France their fair iuflu
ence in the National Assembly. But
this the Emperor, who knew well that
he reigned chiefly by virtue of the con
fidence which tlie timid and ignorant
peasantry reposed in him, would never
grant; and now we see the terrible re
coil of the policy of repression in this
revolutionary demand that France
shall be virtually governed by the great
cities—for that is really what the new
programme means—and the rural dis
tricts kept down by the superior intelli
gence, force and wealth of the municip
al centres. This is the political ideal
after which the Parisian revolution
declares itself to be an aspirant. That
Lyons and Marseilles, aud perhaps St.
Etienne and Toulouse, more or less
share the same views, the recent dis-
turbances there seem to indicate.
Should Paris succeed iu defying the
central power and establish herself as
an independent commune, we may be
quite sure that such an example given
by the capital will soon bo followed by
others of the great cities, which have
for generations back followed more or
less closely in the wake of Paris. Aud
the probable consequence will be the
disintegration of the State, and a suciu
war of city against country. It is a
frightful danger, aud one the magni
tude of which has really grown with
the recent attempts at a remedy. Louis
Napoleon saw the extent of the danger,
in 1848, and tried to remedy it by
drawing from the country an army
which kept down the capital and tho
other great towns; but then, as we have
seen, he had to prop up his policy by
the political expedient of attenuating
the political strength of the greater
municipalities, which he effected, after
a fashion well understood iu political
England, by throwing great marginal
districts of agricultural population into
the “circumscriptions” of the more
democratic cities. But all this counter
balancing of tlie great cities only
piqued their vanity and excited their
vindictive feelings the more, till at last
we see that the quarrel of town versus
country is like enough to become an
open feud.
And perhaps the worst feature of this
new revolutionary cry is, that while it
is a very exciting cry, a cry which has
a very vivid meaning both for town
and country, it does not represent any
thing of definite and intelligible policy
far the future. Tlie most dangerous of
all social quarrels are those which begin
before any intellectual or moral issue is
really reached—quarrels of local jeal
ousy which represent passions and hy
pothetical interests rather than distinct
policies and tangible interests. We
know pretty fairly the vague ideas
which are fermenting in the great
French cities; we know that there is a
very widespread distrust of the rich,
and a very strong disposition to insist
on government by the poor; we know
that there is a vague idea that wealth
is unfairly distributed, and that in some
fashion or other guarantees should be
taken foi its more equal distribution in
future; we know that there is a violent
distrust among the ouvriers of the prin
ciple of competition, and a vague belief
that by building up vast labor associa
tions on what they call the principle of
solidarile, they could insure a fairer
division of the rewards of labor; fur
ther, we know that there is an intense
dislike to the strong proprietary indi
vidualism and the torpid life of tire
rural districts, and a vast belief in the
sacredness of political ebullitions of all
sorts —in short, an immense love of
excitement, and a strong disposition to
novelties of social and political experi
ment. All those tendencies are deeply
rooted in the fluctuating populations of
the great cities of France; but there is
not one of them which really represents
a distinct principle or a practicable po
litical plan. The rural districts rather
believe in wealth and rank, and cer-
tainly prefer to be governed by the rich
and not by the poor; But though the
apparent teudency of a great part of
the city masses to distrust wealth and
prefer men of their own order, makes a
social war a real danger; yet it is quite
obvious that this is not an issue on
which a practical discussion is possible.
Even the city poor will not refuse in
fluential leaders from amongst the pro
fessional classes if they can get ihem ;
and even the country peasants might
choose to elect an able and typical man
of their own class if they could find one.
This is just the sort of division of feel
ing which causes bitterness without
even admitting of a clear settlement.
And so too of the semi-communistic
notions of the unfair distribution of
wealth. No one has ever formulated
them into a practical experiment, ex
cept indeed in the proposal to establish
government workshops for the unem
ployed—a most dangerous proposal,
unless the work were harder and the
pay much less than that of any private
workshops, in which case the plan
would be rejected by the socialists
themselves. As for the “solidarists”
who want to get rid of competition and
“organize” labor on a great scale, no
practicable plan has ever been proposed,
except co-operative schemes, which are
very good in their way, because they
are checked andstimulated by external
competition, without which tiiey would
become mere vast monopolies. Then
again, the general belief in political ex
citement, experiment, and change,
which marks the cities, and which is
the horror of the conservative landed
FAIR 13 URN, GA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 5, 1871.
peasantry of the country, suggests no
issue or principle capable of real discuss
ion ; it is a mere vague tendency which
has its influence of course in exciting
enthusiasm in the cities, and dread in
the rural populations, but it is incapa
ble of intellectual statement or refuta
tion.
This, then, seems to us to bo tho
great peril of the situation—that tho
cities have got a restless, a feverish, a
dangerous, an empirical life of their
own, to which they are attached, and
the influence of which, in some form or
other, they desire to see propagated
through France; while the country
people, ignorant, slow, conservatile,
aud attached to their ignorant, slow,
conservative ideas, feel a complete hor
ror of the views aud feelings which
agitate the cities, and desire nothing so
much as to be protected from their in
fluence. There, as we have said, is no
political issue—nothing capable of being
fought out definitely, like the demand
for a reform bill, or for free trade, or
even for a republic. All these clear
constitutional issues might be decided
by political agitation. But, in Franco
we have hostilebut, ononesideat least,
vague ideas threatening an order of so
ciety to which the other side is attached,
but without even a trace of suliicient
definiteness to make it clear what order
of society these idealists would substi
tute for it. Such hostility as this is tlie
more dangerous, just because it is vague,
aud auy distinct comparison of ideas on
tho subject is impossible. It is more
like a quarrel between two different
ages of the world—between a feudal
and a commercial period for instance,
as to which should impose its yoke on
the other —than a contest between two
sections of the same people, educated
under the same influences, and only
subiect to a certain divergency of taste
and principle. The only conceivable
remedy for it is a thorough rural edu
cation, which should make the country
districts more active and susceptible to
new ideas, and a thorough city educa
tion, which should make the ouvriers
more sober, less visionary, more clearly
aware of the striet intellectual limits on
all progress. But that takes a genera
tion or so: and a social struggle in
France looks almost as if it were immi
nent. It is a gloomy prospect.
Practical Joking.
Chambers’ Journal tells tlie follow
ing among other stories of practical
joking:
The ancients used to indulge in
practical jokes to a considerable extent;
for instance, tlie Thradians, at their
drinking parties, sometimes played
the game of hanging. They fixed a
round noose to the bough of a tree, and
placed underneath it a stone of such a
shape that it would easily turn around
when any one stood upon it. 'Then
they drew lots, then he who chew the
lot took a sickle in his hand, stood on
the stone and put his neck into tlie
halter. Then the stone was kicked
away; if he could cut himself down
with his sickle, well aud good; but if
he was not quick enough he was
hanged outright; and tlie rest laughed,
HIIIIKUIS itg-vrotl Kpcirl
Nero’s jests were likewise very prac
tical. “What a fat fellow that Sena
tors is!” he observed the other day to a
courtier; “see me cut him in two!” and
he did it in the most facetious man
ner.
A French auditor of accounts in the
seveuteeth century was a great practi
cal jocker all his life, aud even played
a trick after he had lost the power of
enjoying it, for he left four large can
dles to be burned at his funeral, which
had not been burning fifteen minutes
before they went off as fireworks.
When a lady condescends to a prac
tical joke, it is generally a very neat
one. M. Boncort, the rich financier,
was very stingy to his wife iu the mat
ter of pin money. One day a lady,
closely vailed, and very anxious not to
bo recognized, called upon him and
borrowed a large sum, leaving her dia
monds as a pledge. It was liis wife.
The French thieves sometimes used
to steal so funnily that even their
victims were half inclined to pardon
them.
The Duke of Frausac, nephew of
Biclielieu, was coming out of the opera
one night, in a splendid dress, em
broidered with f>earls, when two
thieves managed to cut oft' his coat
tails. He turned into his club, where
every body laughed at him, and he
found out what had happened, and
went home. Early next morning a
well dressed man called at the Duke’s
hotel, and demanded to see him at
once, on a matter of most vital impor
tance. Monsieur do Fronsac was
awakened. “Monsier,” said the visi
tor, “I am officer of police. Monsieur,
the Lieutenant of police has learned
the accident which happened to you
yesterday, on leaving the opera, and I
have been sent by him to request you
to order the court to placed in my
hands, that we may convict the offen
der by comparing it with the mutilat
ed tails.” The dress was given up, and
the duke was in raptures with the vigi
lance of the police; but it was anew
trick of the rogue who had stolen the
tails, by which he got the entire gar
ment.
Success.
Take'an earnest hold of life, capaci
tated for and destined to a high and
noble purpose. Study closely the
mind’s bent for labor ora profession.
Adopt it early and pursue it steadily,
never looking back to the turning
furrow but forward to the ground
that ever remains to be broken.
Means and w r ays arc abundant to ev
ery man’s success, if will and actions,
arc rightly adapted to them. Our
rich men and our great men have carv
ed their paths to fortune, by this in
ternal principle—a principle that can
not fail to reward him who resolute
ly pursues it. To sigh or repine over
the lack of inheritance is unmanly.
Every man should strive to bo crea
tor instead of inheritor. lie should
be conscious of the power in him, and
light his own battles with his own
lance. He should feel that it is bet
ter to earn a crust than to inherit cof
fers of gold. When once this spirit
of self reliance is learned, every man
will discover within himself the ele
ments and capacities of wealth. He
will be rich, inestimably rich, in self
resources, and can lift his head proud
ly to meet the noblest among them.
lie who esteems trifles for them
selves is a trifler; lie who esteems
them for conclusions to be drawn
from them, of the advantages to
which they can be put, is n.philoso
pher.
I’UIILIC LIFE IN AMERICA.
Interesting tetter from tlie JLiile Wil
limn JL. Marry.
The Washington Patriot a lew
days Since published tho following
letter, addressed by the late lion. W.
L. Marcy to one of his intimate
friends, on the eve of retiring from the
office of Governor of New York:
Aliiany, from 31st Deed
to January 1, 1830. jj
My Dear General :—Before this is
finished, 1 shall have passed from
public to private life, and be in a sit
uation that I have not occupied for
the last eighteen years. I should he
stoical, indeed, if this transition did
not call up a train of unusual thoughts.
I shall not undertake to give a full de
velopment of them; but our long and
close friendship, which 1 flatter my
self is to continue unchanged through
ail the changing condition of external
scenes, will be my excuse, and I trust
a sufficient one, for presenting you
with some of my nuttings on that,
event. L take leave lo assure you, of
what I think you know well enough
not to doubt—that the change comes
over me unaccompanied with any se
rious regret.
* * * Public life is in sonic sense
a servitude, but it is usually accom
panied with enjoyments, and these
arc to most minds a sufficient reward;
but tlie extent of these enjoyments
depends essentially upon Hie charac
ter of the recipient, if a public man
is endowed with a good degree of
vanity, he is made happy by tiie res
pect his station procures him; it lie
is ambitious, lie is made happy by the
opportunity afforded him ot gratify
ing that dominant passion; it lie is
anxious to extend tlie sphere of his
usefulness, he is made happy by (he
realization of his benevolent wishes.
I will not say that from each of these
sources I have not derived some en
joyment, hut if I do not misjudge of
myself, it lias been less than most, oth
ers would have felt in my situation.
This implies an opinion that I have
less vanity and loss ambition than
most other men. The indulgence of
this opinion you may regard as a re
futation of its correctness. Self-delu
sion more readily and more egregi
ottsly errs in disbelieving the exis
tence of faults than over-estimating
claims to merit, All the acquisitions
of life are generally pronounced emp
ty and unsatisfactory as soon as tiie
passions which attended tlie pursuit
of them have subsided.
Ho nest fame deserves to he prized
as highly, perhaps more so, than any
of them, and this usually accompanies,
in a greater or less degree, a man in
an elevated station, who has been
faithful to his trust, even if his capac
ity and qualifications arc of an ordi
nary character. How much of it 1
merit, or how much will lie awarded
t o me, (for a man may yet more or
io a „ *i i-- Acaerves,) 1 will not at
tempt to settle at the risk of render
ing myself ridiculous, even to an inti
mate friend; but if in my free unbos
oming myself to you, I felt a liberty
to express au opinion ou that subject,
I should be at a loss to graduate it. 1
might say, perhaps, without arro
gance or’the imputation of vanity,
that I have a fair claim to considera
tion for good intentions ; or a dilli
gent application of my faculties, what
ever they are, to my public duties;
for, having teken, at least, usual pains
to guard myself against tlie intrusion
of improper motives of action, aud to
adhere to and follow out correct prin
ciples, or rather, such as 1 thought to
be correct.
I do not deny that I have had re
gard to the interests of my party, but
1 have pursued them as subordinate
and subservient to the public good.
But honesty of purpose and industry,
the only points in regard to my claims
for public consideration upon which 1
presume to venture an opinion, are
but a trivial part of the materials re
quired for the foundation of public
fame —indeed, of themselves, they do
nothing toward it. Good intentions,
without a sound judgment to give it
a proper and useful application, arc
of very little worth. No one can
earn for himself the praiseworthy dis
tinction which deserves the name of
fame, without native talents, large
acquirements, sagacity, prudence, and
a sound judgement. Many claim a
fair share of these, and those who
think they have them in an eminent
degree arc the most likely to be mis
taken. Os my own endowments in
•these respects, I shall only say that
1 have enough of prudence and judg
ment not to indulge in even a conjec
tural estimate of the share of them
that 1 possesss.
You may think that 1 am rather
prematurely summing up the cause
before all the facts are brought out,
but I think the testimony is closed.
My Spring and Summer have passed,
and I have advanced far into the Au
tumn of life. It would be folly for
me to think of sowing seed for an
other harvest. At most, I can only
glean a little longer in the old fields.
I neither see a prospect nor feel a de
sire of returning again to public life.
Nor am lat all unhappy that it is so.
Begging you to make a proper allow
ance for the great difference between
myself and Sir William Temple, I
shall conclude my letter by borrow
ing the concluding paragraph of his
memoirs, which was, 1 think, written
about the same period in life to which
I have arrived:
“And so I take my leave of all those
airy visions, which have no long bus
ied my head, about mending the
world; and at the same time, of all
those shining toys or follies that em
ploys the thoughts of busy men, and
shall turn mine wholly to mend my
self ; and, so far as consists with a
private condition, still pursuing the
old and excellent counsel of Pvtua
gotias, that we are, with all the cares
anil endeavors of our lives, to avoid
disease in the body, perturbations in
the mind, luxury in diet, fractions in
the house, and seditions in the State.’’
Yours truly,
TV". L. M Autry.
Over fifty horses are in training at
the Nashville Tennessee course, and it
is expected tliat they will number sev
enty-five before the races come off.
HOW FASHIONABLE WOMEN ARE
MADE Ul‘.
Nliirlliiift llpvcliitioii'i I>> Miiiliiiiies
WiMKlliiill mill ITalliu Arliltcial Wu
men Tlie Secrets el' tlie Toilet.
From Wooilhull ami Chaflin’r Weekly.
We promise that a fashionable wo
man in a state of nature is no more
than any other woman—often not a
tithe as many thousands of other wo
men—although she does look so like
Juno aud Hebe aud Venus and tho
rest of tlie pretty goldesses when site
has put on her set-offs, and goes blaz
ing with jewels into society. It is
dreadful for a bachelor to think what
humbugs these women are. Here is a
lady of questionable age—say twenty
seven; she is in her morning wrapper,
although it is past high noon, ana she
is going to a great evening party. She
looks into tlie glass and sees there a
yellow, brown wrinkled, dull-eyed
lace; a mouth full of gums, and no
teeth; in falling cheeks; thin, doleful
hair; neck no more like tho "Tower of
Lebanon” then I like Hercules, hut
thin, scraggy and not to bo named
where beauty is. The sight is any
thing hut agreeable, aud the cost of
remedying it is very expensive; and
she wishes she were really the pretty,
gay woman that she is taken for in tlie
glare of the chandeliers.
CiOES XO THE TURKISH HATH.
But, ;vs wishing avails nothing, she
rings tlie hell, orders her carriage, and
drives to tlie Turkish baths. Here she
is boiled for half au hour iu steam, and
when well done she is douched with
cold water until her skin assumes
something like tlie glow and color of
health. In another hour—after dress
ing, and then drinking a cup of colfee
aud smoking a cigarette, as she lays at
full length upon a tempting sos
resumes her seat in tlie carriage, and
then drives to No. Broadway,
“where that handsome chiropodist’s
store is, who enamels us so beautifully;”
aud in a few minutes she if in the pres
ence of this nice young man, whom she
hails of course as au old and most inti
mate friend, who knows iier exteriors,
even the most sacred of them, like a
book. She lias come this time, as she
informs him,' to be done thoroughly!
It is such a nuisance, she says, to be
compelled to go through all that weary
process of enamliug once a week; and
so she has made up her mind to have
her face and bust clone for six months.
Then there is a good deal of chaffering
about tlie price. Our haudsome chiro
podist insists upon Ills full fee of three
hundred dollars. If the lady liad been
pretty, why lie would have thrown off
something for the pleasure it would
give him to make her still prettier; but
as this particular lady is anything but
good-looking, lie will not abate a dime
ofhis charge.
TIIE MAN WHO ENAMELS THE LADY.
So my lady agrees, aud retires into
au elegant, parlor, .where there arc
long, large mirrors set into tlie walls,
with an easy chair opposite tlie largest
aytot mtir .vt'ff&irfe
any display of modesty in this purely
business alfiiir, she unrobes herself to
tlie waist, regardless of the gentleman
artist’s presence; and gets him to help
her, first of all, to weed out of her pro
ductive skin the stubbie of hair which
lias shot up since tlie last weeding time,
which done, the superfluous hairs arc
plucked out by the roots; and then she
clips, tlie soft hair around the temples
and forehead, to give to the latter an
arched appearance, and not being quite
satisfied with her handiwork, she gets
her gentleman, whose hands drop with
perfumes, to shave over tlie parts
where she had been with her scissors.
NECK, ARMS, SHOULDERS AND BUST.
All being now ready, the sorlous bu
siness begins. The artist applies a very
powerful magnifying glass to all the
beauties of her face, neck, arms, should
ers and —alack, alack! her bust, also,
down to the waist! If he find any hair
there or gossamer fuzz, he exorcises it
with washes, soaps, liniments or tweez
ers. Strange to say, the artist's hand
very rarely trembles over his work —
he is not afflicted by any shortness of
breath, palpitation of the heart or shiv
ering of the nerves; and it seems to us
that he must be a particularly enam
eled man himself, with a cuticle as
thick as a rhinoceros’ hide, or that he
is a wax man, and has no flesh and
blood in his composition. All being
now ready, he begins to overlay the
skin that nature gave to her with a
skin of his own composing. He ap
plies the enamel to her yellow face,
and then to her bust. The enamel con
sists chiefly of white lead or arsenic,
made into a semi-liquid paste. It re
quires a good deal oi skill to lay it on
so that it shall be smooth, and not
wrinkled; and two or three hours, and
sometimes a pouch longer time, are
consumed in making a good job of it.
A THREE HUNDRED DOLLAR JOB.
In this instance the lady was very
exacting, for she had to pay three hun
dred dollars for the artist’s work, and
it was a long time before she was com
pletely satisfied. But presently she
rose from her making-place in all the
gloiy of her regenerated body, and
again looking into the glass she beheld
a vision of such surprising loveliness
compared with the old body under
neath the arsenic cuticle—that she fell
upon the artist’s neck and kissed him
in the exuberance of her gratitude.
A letter writer to the London
Times, who was with the armies about
Paris, thinks that “it Was not by bom
bardment, but by famine, that Paris
was reduced.” His speculations, how
ever, about the range of the Prussian
guns, and the damage likely to be caus
ed by tlieir lire, are not confirmed by
the tacts. The guns are more efficient
than he surposed they ould be. He
says: So far as is known, the gun of
highest caliber now in Paris has a bore
measuring not more than ten and a
half inches across its diamiter The
projectile weighs little short of 500
pounds, but a comparatively large,
charge cannot be used on account of
the danger of bursting, unless the Ilus
sian pdan of burying the piece in the
earth be tried, as men say it has been
lately There are rumors of a wonder
ful new gun of huge dimensions found
accidently in Paris, and soon to be used
against Versailles.
Louisiana sugar planters are disap
pointed at the low price of sugar, and
nave wisely determiued on an entire
change in the system of planting.
They will hereafter raise their own pro
visions and go to as little expiense as
possible in producing sugar for market.
The Moabite Stone.
Supposing, that in an ago thought
some times to la) given over to “a
strong delusion” so as to reject tho
support, which reason derives from
revelation and to accept tvs truth tlie
“imaginations of men,” there is still a
remnant who look to the Scriptures as
their guide, no event lias occurred, in a
historical point of view, of more real
interest to the religious world than tho
recent discovery of tlie object designat
ed as above. It appears that this re
markable stone, about two years ago,
came to the knowledge of an agent of
the Church Missionary Society at Je
rusalem, Mr. Klein, who having made
a journey into the land of Moab, over
a country, seldom visited by Europe
ans, was informed by the Sheikh of its
existence in less immediate neighbor
hood. Upon looking it up, it was
found lo be a piece of black basalt,
three feet five inches high, and one
foot nine inches wide, with an iuerip
tion upon it consisting of thirty-four
straight lines of writing, about an inch
and a quarter apart Others soon en
tered upon the Held, and impiessions
more or less perfect were taken of tho
inscription. A high price was offered
for it, but the cupidity of tlie Turkish
Governor of Nablus having been ex
cited, lie endeavored to obtain posses
sion of it, and tlie Bedouins, believing
that in that event they should get
nothing for a monument which they
and their ancestors for ages had valued
as a charm, managed to break it up
and distribute tlie pieces. Most of
these fragments have been recovered,
and by their aid and that of several im
pressions made while tlie stone was
whole, a clearly intelligible transcript
was made of the inscription, less than
a seventh part of the letters being de
ficient.
Three several commentaries by com
petent scholars have now been publish
ed, in English and German, giving a
full account of tlie process of discovery
aud collation, and of tlie value of tlie
inscription in a historical and a philol
ogical point of view. All agree that
its genuineness is incontestable, that
it dates back 2500 years, and that it is
the oldest of alt .Semitic inscriptions.
The artielo in the Quarterly Jtcvicw
which lias brought it to our notice tints
describes it:
Until now, sareophagus ofEslimuna
zar (about GOO B. C.) was considered tlie
most ancient inscription of auy length.
Here we have a long specimen of the
earliest Phoenician character, Hie al
phabet from whicli tlie Greek, the Ro
man, and all our European alphabets
are derived. These are tho very char
acters which, before 700 B. G. were
common to all the raies of Western
Asia from Egypt to the foot of Taurus,
and from tho Mediterranean to Nine
veh; which were used in Nineveh it
self to Phoenicia, Jerusalem, Samaria,
the land of Moab, Cilicia and Cyprus.
We have here, in fact, tho letters we
use in their first front of typs and af
fectionately should they bo examined
and studied by every one
In another aspect, the discovery is
of jijf pfqfeuryjftSuiißere.st. The stone
that Mesha, kingof Moabj'oF wliom wo
learn something in 11. Kings, iii, as
we do of tlie successful revolt of the
Edomites, in JL Chronicles, xxi: B—lo,
from the dominion of Judah, which is
celebrated by this stone. In fact, this
ancient monument is of very great use
in illustration of and by way of veri
fication or tlie sacred writings.
In still another view of the matter,
there is one point of great interest to
the literary world, which is thoroughly
settled by this stone. It has been gener
ally held that tlie original letters of the
alphabet which “Cadmus gave” were
but sixteen, the others having been ad
ded at a considerable later period. But
as the Quarterly reviewer remarks:
“The stone of Meslia comes forward
with its sharp), clear testimony. It has
twenty-two letters; and, as these let
ters must have been used more than
a thousand years before Christ—for we
cannot suppose shey were invented by
Mesha for his monument—the Greeks
must have received from the Semitic
alphabet the whole at once.” Wo go
back, then, with a complete alphabet
in use at a period even anterior to the
time of Homer, and in use, too, in his
own country, as well as in the exten
sive region mentioned in the above ex
tract. There seems, therefore, to be no
good reason for the theory which we
have always thought strangely fanci
ful, that Homer’s great poems were
recited, not written, and by some im
possible feat of successive memories,
were transmitted to a later pieriod.
That parts of those poems were recited
at the public games of Greece, we may
well Believe; but we must also believe
that they were written down, at first,
when ample means and materials ex
isted for the pmrpiose. — Boston Courier.
Water Power. History, says the
Whipping List, teaches that a people
who, with raw piroducts alone, attempt
to contest for wealth end population
against a people elaborating those pro
ducts, are sure to be worsted. It is a
pleasing indication that the people of
the West and South are beginning to
appreciate this truth. They not only
have an abundance of wool, cotton, and
other essential raw materials at hand,
but they are fortunate in having a
swift creator of wealth —the most im
portunate demand of all active civili
zations—an unlimited water power.
The true course, then, is to set this
cheap mechanical power at work—to
make the myriad water courses of the
country contribute to our source of
wealth, as well as our rich virgin soils.
A correspondent of the Nashville,
(Tetm.) Banner states that six or seven
men went to Jack Farmer’s livery sta
ble, in Florence, Ala., on the 4th inst.,
took two horses out of his stable and
proceeded towards Giles [county. Far
mer and two or three men started in
pursuit early on the morningof the sth,
and overtook them at Lexington, when
a tight ensued; in which some of the
party from Giles county were wounded
one lulled and the horses recovered.
It is supposed that the horses had been
stolen from Giles county and that the
young men went after them, and per
haps took them without awaiting the
rocess of la w.
“John,” said mother
the other day to a promising boy, “if
you don’t stop reading so much, you
will get alter awhile so you won’
care anything about work. ’ ' Moth
er;” replied the hopeful, leisurely re
movinga very long cigar, and turning
another leaf, “1 have got so now.
NO. 6.
Preachers for the Masses.
A movement has been inaugurated
in New York for providing anew
class of religious teachers, or mission
aries for tho people, that wu are suro
will be hailed, by right-minded peo
ple, the world over. The object of the
institution known as tlie “House of
tlie Evangelists,” is the training of
young men for tiie ministry, so as to
adapt them to approach the people on
the ground of common experiences,
tastes, prejudices, benevolcnco and
| brotherhood. The founders and man
j agers of the institution are seemingly
guided by two facts, which striko ns
with great force, namely : First, while
higher educational institutions and
seminaries bemoan a deficiency of
students for tho regular ministry,
there is a large class of young men
ready and desirous to enter upou the
specialty of mission work among tlie
masses. Second: That through the
labors of such teachers alone is there
reasonable hope of reaching tlie great
multitude in our cities, who, as a gen
eral rule, stay away from denomina
tional houses of worship.
Were this movement sectarian in
its purpose, we should pass it over to
the organs of the churches ; but as it
is not, it comes within tlie sphere of
the daily press, and merits our special
attention. At a meeting of tho friends
of the movement, held in Association
Hall, in the city of New York, on last
Tuesday evening, the speakers were
from different denominations, and in
some of their utterances indicated dis
tinctly the character of the movement.
Dr. Tyng said that in the education of
ti.e young men “ecclesiastical distinc
tions would be impertinent,” and that
lhey “were ready to furnish any de
nomination with missionaries.” He
staled that more than ihrco years ago
ilie rector of the Holy Trinity church
opened tlie work by superintending
the education of five young men who
were ready to devote themselves to
this particular sphere of work. Tho
result thus far has vindicated the wis
dom of the effort and the special adap
tation of the method then accepted.
After such a satisfactory experience,
it was determined during last year to
give the effort an organized torm. An
act of incorporation was secured and
a building rented, and all necessary
appliances secured. The work is now
moving forward successfully. The
Greek language is taught tor the in
telligent understanding of the New
Testament. Apart from this, however,
the Bible is the principal text-book.
The students are subjected from the
lirsf to experimental training inactive
mission work, in Sunday-schools, and
visiting the poor. This kintl of work
they have to perform as rigidly and
systematically as students iu other in
stitutions go through their text-books
on mathematics, geology, astronomy,
or the languages. Now all this looks
like lowering the standard ofjniuiste
too well that it ought to bo elovatod.
But this is not the fact. Tho gontle-
men conducting this movement aro
providing a class oi men to teach tho
alphabet of morals and religion to tho
masses seldom or never preached to
by tlie regular clergymen. Astor
limiting these people up in alleys and
hovels, and attending to their wants,
physical as well as moral and intel
lectual, they are by and by to bo
handed over to the regular churches.
This is a Christ-like work. Every
good citizen should be prompt to of
fer a helping hand. It is the design
of tho originators of the work that it
shall become general. Let every city
take hold of it. Where is there a city
at present in which the regular clergy
preach to even a quarter of tho popu
lation? Our people, arc now better
prepared for work of this kind than
over before. Sectarianism is not now
the dividing element in society it
once was. The Young Men’s Christ
ian Association has helped largely to
bring about inis condition of society.
This “House of the Evangelists,” in
the performance of a distinctly differ
ent work, comes just now to reinforce
the liberalizing efforts of the Young
Men’s Christian Association.
The Devil’s Slide—Montana.
After traveling six miles over the
mountains above tiie canon, we again
descended into a broad and and open val
ley. skirled by a level upland for several
miles, llcrejan object met our attention
which deserves more than a casual notice.
It was two parallel vertical walls of rock,
projecting from t lie side ot a mountain
in the height of 125 feet, traversing the
mountain from base to summit, a distance
of 1,500 feet. These walls were not to
exceed thirty feet in width, and their
tops for the whole length were crowned
with a growth of pines. The sides wery
as even as if they had been worked he
line and plumh-tlie whole space between,
ami on either side of them, having been
completely eroded and washed away.
We had seen many ot the capricious
works wrought by erosion upon the fri
able rocks of Montana, but never before
upon so majestic a scale. Here an en
tire mountain-side, by wind and water,
had been removed, leaving as the evi
dences of tlieir protracted toil these ver
tical projections, which, but for their
immensity, might as readily be mistaken
for works of art as of nature. Their
smooth sides, uniform width and height,
and "reat length, considered in connec
tion with the causes which had wrought
tlieir insolation, excited our wonder and
admiration. They were all the more cu
rious because of their dissimilarity to
any other striking objects in natural
scenery that we had ever seen or heard
of. In future years, when the wondcre
ol the Yellowstone arc incorporated in
to the family of fashionable resorts, there
will be few of its attractions surpassing
in interest this marvelous freak of the
elements. For some reasons, best under
stood by himself, one of our companions
gave to these rocks the name of the
" Devil’s Slide.” — Scribner's Monthly.
There is a man in Gleu Falls, N. Y.,
who won’t believe any stories about
tlie sagacity of dogs. He says dogs
have uot common sense. 11l proof of
his assertion he relates ho v lie poured
kerosene on a dog and set it on Are,
just to have a little fun, as he was lone
ly during liis wife’s absence, and that
dog actually ran un Dr the barn be
longing to him, and lay there and set
tlie barn on fire, though the man whis
tled to him to come out. It is enough
to make a man lose faith in dogs.