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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.