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THE OLD CHURCHYARD TREE.
A PROSE POEM.
There is an old yew tree which
stands by die wall in a dark, quiet
corner ot the churchyard.
And a child was at play beneath
its wide spreading branches, one
fine day in the early spring. He
had his lap full of flowers, which
the fields and lanes had supplied
him with, and he was humming a
•‘one to himself, as he wove them in
tcgarla nds.
And a little girl at play among
the tombstones crept near to listen ;
but the boy was so intent upon bis
garland, that he did not hear the
gentle footsteps, as they trod softly
over the fresh green grass. When
his work was finished, and all the
flowers that were in his lap were
wove together in one long wreath,
he started up to measure its length
upon the ground, and then he saw
the little girl, as she stood with her
eyes fixed upon him. He did not
move or speak,but thought to himself
that she looked very beautiful as
she stood there with her flaxen ring
lets hanging down upon her neck
The little girl was so startled by his
sudden movement, that she let fall
all the flowers she had collected in
her apron, and ran away as fast as
she could. But the boy was older
and taller than she, and soon caught
her, and coaxed her to come back
and play with him, and help him to
make more garlands; and from that
time they saw each other nearly
everyday, and became great friends.
Twenty years passed away. —
Again, he was seated beneath the
old yew tree in the church yard.
It was summer now; bright beau
tiful summer, with the birds singing,
and the flowers covering the ground
and scenting the air with its per
fume.
But he was not alone now, nor
did the little girl steal near on tip
toe, fearful of being beard. She
was seated by his side, and his arm
was round her, and she looked up
into his face, and smiled as she whis
pered : “ The first evening of our
lives we were ever together was
passed here: we will spend the
first evening of our wedded life in
the same quiet happy place.” And
he drew her closer to him as she
spoke.
The summer is gone; and the au
tumn ; and twenty more summers
and autumns have passed away
since that evening, in the old church
yard.
A young man, on a bright moon
light night, comes reeling through
the little white gate, and stumbling
over the graves. He shouts and he
sings, and is presently followed by
others like himself or worse. So,
they all laugh at the dark, solemn
head of the yew tree, and throw
stones up at the place where the
moon had silvered the boughs.
r>
Those same houghs are again sil
vered by the moon, and thev droop
over his mother’s grave. There is
a little stone which bears this in
scription :
“her heart brake in silence.”
But the silence of the churchyard
is now broken by a voice—not of
the youth—nor a voice of laughter
and ribaldry.
“ My son !—dost thou see this
grave ? and dost thou read ilie rec
ord in anguish, wherefore may come
repentance ?”
“Os what should I repent?” an
swered the son ; “and why should
my young ambition for fame relax
in its strength, because my mother
was old and weak?”
“Is this indeed our son ?” says
the fuher, bending in agony over
the grave of bis beloved.
“I can well believe I am not;”
exclaimed the youth, “it is well
that you have brought me here to
say so. Our natures are unlike ; our
courses must be opposite. Your
way lietli here—mine yonder.”
So the son left the father kneeling
by the grave.
Again a few years are passed.—
It is winter, with a roaring wind and
a thick gray fog. The graves in the
Church yard are covered with snow,
nnd there are great icicles in the
Church porch. The wind now car
ries a swathe of snow along the
tops of the graves, as though the
“ sheated dead ” were at some mel
ancholy play; and hark! the ici
cles fall with a crash and jingle,
like a solemn mockery of the echo
‘he unseemly mirth of one who
irf now coming to his final rest.
There are two graves near the oid
yew tree ; and the grass has oxer
grown diem. A third is close by;
and the datk earth at each side has
just been thrown up. The bearers
come; with a heavy pace t h e y
move along; the coffin heaveth up
ar.d down, as they step over the in
tervening graves.
Grief and old age had seized up
on Ihe father, and worn out his life ;
and premature decay soon seized
upon the son, and gnawed away
his vain ambition, and bis useless
strength, till he prayed to be borne,
not the wav yonder that was most
opposite to his father and his moth
er, but even the same way they had
gone —the way which leads to the
Old Churchyard Tree.
ECONOMY IS DUE TO OUR EM
PLOYERS.
‘Waste not, want not,’ is a good
old proverb. ‘He that is faithful in
little is faithful also in much.’ A
person who takes no care of the ma
terials committed to his hands by
hisemployer, will never duly hus
band his own properly. Economy
and wastefulness are habits that
will influence us in all tilings, both
wdien we are engaged about our
O O
own substance or that of another.
To waste another’s goods is the
same ns to rob him. The loss in
both cases is equal, and the princi
ples w hence they spring very much
alike. The man who takes careof
his employer’s goods is sure to look
after his own, and thus is on the
road to prosperity. It would be
difficult to calculate the immense
loss of property that every year oc
curs from cnrelessness and want of
economy. Some persons are worth
nearly half their wages more than
others, because they never injure
or waste any thing. The employ
er being wealthy, or the stock abun
dent, is noexcuse for carelessness.
A loss is a loss, and a robbery is a
robbery, whether taken from the
heap of the miser or the smaller
store of the indigent. ‘Gather up
the fragments, that nothing may be
lost,’ is a divine command. Hea
ven allows nothing to be destroy
ed. There has not been a single
O
drop of water wasted from the crea
tion until now\ The decomposed
elements of last autumn are the ali
ment of our present spring. Econo
my, rigid economy, is one of the
laws of nature : and we shall not
realize‘the good time coming* until
we have a careful and economical
world. Let this spirit prevail, and
not only will the master be saved
from loss, but, in many instances,
the servant will rescue himself from
the union.
Bern fits of Classical Study. —lt is a
mistake to say that nothing but the
dead languages are taught when a
boy learns Greek and Latin. When
he learns in addition to these—what
lie learns even in the efli>rt to learn
languages, is the power of reason
ing, exercised at the same time that
die memory is diciplined, and so
impossible is it to substitute a dif
ferent system of education for that
which the experience of many cen
turies lias approved, that we have
never known a self-educated man
who did not exhibit, whatever the
original powers of his mind, tin in
capacity for just reasoning. What
he knows he over-estimates, and
makes no allowance at all in his
calculations for the possibility ofliis
being ignorant of anything—and
the effect is that even when he is
right, the conclusion to which he
has come exist in his mind as pre
judices, which preclude any farther
examination of such questions as
he made his mind up on, as it is
called, and producing little influ
ence on others, impede rather than
assist the progress of truth.
(North British llevicw.
Holding the llay too High. —Dr.
Ashbell Green was, while a Pastor
in Philadelphia more than fifty
years since, and eminent preacher
of righteousness; and was honored
with many seals of his ministry.
But his early sermons are described
as having been too highly w rought
and as marked by great rhetorical
flourishes. This gave him popu
larity with the multitude but it fail
ed of com trending him to all bis
flock. One day returning from the
service of Sanctuary, he was ac
costed by a poor woman a member
of the church, who fearing that his
language w’as not always adapted
to the capacities of a portion of his
hearers, took the liberty of giving
her youthful pastor a hint.
“Mr. Green,” said she, “what do
you think is the great business of
the shepherd ?”
“ No doubt to feed the flock mad
am,” was bis reply.
‘1 hat is my netion too,” she
added, “and therefore 1 think he
should not hold ihe hay too high,
that the sheep cannot reach it.”
The monition, says the biogra
pher of the preacher, was received
in the spir t in which it was given,
and probably had its influence in
causing him afterwards to “hold the
hay lower.”
[Correspondence of ihe B;iltimore Clipper.]
Washixtox, Aug. 15, ISSO.
A Grand Project—A Line of Steam
ships from Savannah to Liverpool
—Another Line from Borfolk,
The Georgia Exporting Compa
ny, incorporated at the last session
of the Georgia Legislature, is about
to memorialize Congress to aid it
in carrying out its objects. Those
objects are, the assistance ot the
Federal Government in enabling it
to build a line of five ocean steam
ships, of four thousand tons each, to
run beuveen Savannah and Liver
pool, touching at Liverpool, and the
payment by the Federal Govern
ment of a stipulated sum each trip
for transporting the foreign mails
that may go by that line. Each
steamer is lo cost nine hundred
thousand dollars, and the plan is
for the Federal Government to ad
vance two thirds of this amount in
U. Slates thirty years bonds. The
United Slates to retain a lien upon
the ships until the advance is re
paid. The first two ships are to
be ready by the Ist of July, 1854,
and the other three in two years
thereafter. They are to be built
under the direction of the Navy De
partment, so that they can be con
verted into war vessels at a moments
notice, and are to be unde: the com
mand of an officer of our Navy.
Fayal is to be made a coaling de
pot out and in.
This arrangement willjenable the
ships to carry freight to a much
larger amount, than if they had to
carry coals all the way. it is con
templated to make the trip to and
from Liverpool, from and jo Savan
nah in ten to fifteen days, according
to circumstances.
The advantage of Savannah as
an oulport needs no demonstration.
It now commands the produce of
an interior country, rich in all the
products of the earth, and greater
than any port on the Atlantic bor
der, by means of the immense iron
lines of communication running
across the middle of Georgia and
penetrating into Tennessee. In a
few years, Savannah will be the
nearest sea-port of all Tennessee,
North Alabama, Georgia, part ot’
South Carolina, and even Florida,
Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, Mis
souri and part of Ohio. The grain
products of the North-west, its lum
ber, horses, mules, fat cattle, sheep,
and all other provisions furnished
by the fertile soil of this vast region,
will be able to reach a near, a sute,
and always a steady market at
Savannah, and at all limes of the
year, regardless of snows and
winter’s other delays. Only let
there be steam communicaiion from
Savannah to Europe, and the South
Atlantic shore will have its New
York, and the competition of two
New Yorks, on the Atlantic shore
is a thing of all things to be desired
by the provision growing and pro
duemg Stales of the interior. In
addition, the cotton of Georgia,
South Carolina, Florida, and even
part of Alabama, would seek Sa
unnnah and her steamships, and
they could transport in ten lo fifteen
days to Liverpool anil a market ;
and cotton and all other articles of
export sent by such a route would
be able to take advantage of prices
for time is now the most important
element in trade and the prices
thereof. The five thousand bales
of cotton going out by one of these
steamers, would have a manifest
advantage over the five thousand
bales going out in a sailing vessel,
for the former would arrive at a giv
en time, at Liverpool, and supply
the market, it may be, at high prices
while the latter would arrive uncer
tainly, and the probability would be,
always when the market was sup
plied and prices down. So of flour,
and other provisions sent by this
steam fine.
It is to be hoped, and lam grati
fied in being able to express a belief,
that such will be the action of Con
gress upon this memorial, that the
company’s prayer will be acceded
to at once, and Savannah will have
its Collins’ line of steamers as well
as New York. Now is the time for
the Representatives Senators from
the States above mentioned, as more
immediately interested, to unite in
favor of this measure, and for all
the free States not immediately
concerned, to consent to the estab
lishment of this line, for it. would
be an additional link in the chain of
the Union.
Arrest of Fugitive Slaves. —The
\Vas\iinglon Correspondent, of the
Charleston Mercury savs : “A par
ty of five runaway slaves were
brought in the cars yesterday morn
ing from York, Pa. It appears that
eleven slaves owned by different
parlies in Maryland recently ab
sconded and succeeded in making
their way over to Pennsylvania ;
information was obtained that they
were at the house of a negro resid
ing near the State line. An effort
was made for their arrest which
proved successful in the capture of
seven of the party. These were
properly secured and put into the
cars for the purpose of being brought
on to Baltimore but while the train
was stopping at Shrewsbury, Pa.,
something of an affray occurred,
and, through the forcible efforts ot
some of the residents there, two of
the negroes were liberated and
managed to escape. One of the
negroes fired a pistol during the
affray* which came near taking ef
fect on one of the white men who
had them in charge. The affair is
said to have caused considerable
excitement on both sides of the
Maryland and Pennsylvania line.
Ciiitorinf iknnings.
A sister.— He who has never known
a sisters kind ministration, nor felt
| his heart warming beneath her en
dearing smile and love beaming eye,
has been unfortunate indeed. It
is not to be wondered at, if the
fountains of pure feeling flow in
bis bosom but sluggishly, or if the
gentle emotions of his nature, be
lost in sterner attributes of man
kind.
‘That man has grown up among
kind affectionate sisters,’ I once
heard a lady of much observation
and experience, remark.
And why do you think so? ‘said
I.’ ‘Because of the rich develop
ment of all the tender feelings of the
heart.’ A sister’s influence is felt
even in manhoods riper years ; and
the heart of h.m who has grown
cold in its chilly contact with the
world, will warm, and thrill with
pure enjoyment, as some incident
awakens within him, the soft tones
the glad melodies of his sister’s
voice,—and he will turn from pur
poses which a warped and false
philosophy had reasoned into ex
pediency and even weep for the
gentle influences which moved him
in his earlier years;
To be a lady, is not to be tied
hand and foot by a set of rules as
immutable as the laws of Medes and
Persians. A true gentlewoman
is one who never thinks of rules,
much less talks about them, or reg
ulates by them her conduct. She
regards the happiness of every one,
and, in her social intercourse, per
ceives instantly what she ought to do
or say, in order to avoid offending
or injuring others, while at the same
time she seeks to make them pleased
with themselves, and all around
them. Her movement is not in one
unvarying orbit. Her conduct al
ways upright,and governed by prin
ciple, is never alike to every one.—
She accommodates herself to inno
cent prejudices, and makes liberal
allowances for defects of education
iu all with whom she comes in con
tact ; even looking primarily to up
rightness of character rather than
to external accomplishments. In a
word, a true lady is governed in
all her actions by this high consider
ation—this purest law of etiquette.
hit right? What others may think
of her, or how others may estimate
her, never enters her thoughts. Is it
right? decides all doubtful ques
tions. — Pride or Principle.
A Physician who was at one time
in indifferent circumstances, mar
ried a rich old lady, over whose
wealth he had an entire control. —
Like most mercantile marriages, it
was not of the happiest kind. The
lady had a suspicion on her mind,
that the doctor would one day poi
son her with his physic, in order
to get her out of his way ; and feel
in” ill on one occasion she exclaimed
o
she was poisoned. “ Poisoned !”
said the doctor to a number of his
wife’s friends who were present,
“ how can that possibly be ? Whom
do you accuse of this crime ?”
“You,” replied the indignant wife.
“ Gentlemen,” said the doctor, with
considerable non-chalance , “it is
perfectly false. You are quite wel
come to open her at once, and you
will then discover the calumny.”
Com. Bainbridge was a man of
fine and commanding personal ap
pearance. His statue was about
six feet, and his frame was mascu
lar and of unusually good propor
tions. His face was handsome, par
ticularly in youth, and bis eye un
commonly animated, and piercing.
In temperament be was ardent and
sanguine ; but cool in danger, and
of a courage of proof. His feelings
were vehement, and he was quickly
roused ; but, generous and brave, be
was easily appeased. Like most
men who are excitable, but who are
firm at bottom, be was the calmest,
in moments of the greatest respon
sibility. He was hospitable chiva
lrous, magnanimous, and a firm
friend. His*discip!ine was severe,
buthe tempered it, with much con
sideration for the wants and health
of his crews. Few served with
him, who did not love him, for the
conviction that his heart was right,
was general among all who knew
him. There was a cordiality and
warmth in his manner, that gained
him friends, and those who knew
him best, say he had the art of keep
ing them. A shade was thrown
over the last years of the life of this
noble spirited man, by disease.
His sufferings drove him to the use
of antispasmodics, to an extent
which deranged ihe nerves. This,
altered his mood ?o much, as to in
duce those who did not know him
well, to imagine that his character
had undergone the charge. This
was not the case, however; to his
dying hour, Bainbridge continued
the warmhearted friend, the chival
rous gentleman, and the devoted
over of his country’s honor and in
terest. —Naval Biography.
The greatest man, is he who doe?
the most good. To do good on a
large scale, can be the privilege of
few; but what onlvthe few can do
seperately, the many may do, by
union. We may, therefore, hope
that great men are not so rare as
they may seem. Wide cornfields
wave their ripening treasures,where
no oak spreads out its boughs, as
the monarch of the woods. Many
a gentle stream waters miles of ver
dure, giving life and healthful occu
pation to hundreds of happy men
and women, where there is a catar
act to allure the travellers from
every region, to listen to its roar,
and to tremble at its sublimity.—lt
/
is not want of sensibility to the
grandeur of single objects in nature,
that makes us say that the number
and the usefulness of the lesser
beauties of our world affect our irn
magination with a sense of some
thing greater, as well as of some
thing unspeakably more pleasing;
and so in looking upon men. —Life
of Julius Caecar,
Dr. Mead was the son of a dissent
ing Minister, and whenever he was
called out of his father’s church,
which was often the case,the preach
er would stop in the middle of his
discourse and say : “Dear brethien,
let me offer up a prayer for ihe safe
recovery of the poor patient to whom
my son is gone to administer relief.”
It is not said how much this circum
stance tended to the celebrity of this
once eminent physician, but we
have little doubt that it brought him
many a patient.
Coleridge tells a story of a lady
who had a husband not overbur
dened with brains, bnt with sense
enough to hold his tongue when in
company. The taciturnity was no
ticed, and on the subject being men
tioned to the wife, she mysteriously
observed: “Dear sir, he is always
thinking of Locke and Newton.”
Impressions are made on children
as on rocks by constant dropping of
little influences. What can nnedrop
do? You scarcely see it fall, and
presently ir rolls away or is evapo
rated ; x'ou cannot, even with a mi
croscope, measure the little indenta
tion it has made. Yet it is the con
stant repetition of this trifling agen
cy which furrows, and at length hol
low out the very granite,
There is as true a heroism i n a
single act of filial duty and self f or .
getfulness, as in many a grand ac
tion which fame has trumpeted forth
and the world applauded; and such
acts —honor be to human nature
with all its sin and frailties-—are dai
ly and hourly being performed, un
seen but by one Being, who, “seeintr
in secret,” will one day “reward
openly.” Take courage, then, y e
who in monotonous and loibome ex
istence arc repeatedly making such
noble sacrifices, uncheered and un
encouraged by a word of praise, and
remember that every such act plants
another jewel in the diaden you will
meet, when the secrets of all hearts
shall be disclosed. —“ Only
Proud men never have friends;
neither in prosperity, because they
know nobody : or in adversity, be
cause then nobody knows them.
FRIEND OF_THE FAME?,
SAVANNAH, AUGUST 24, 1850.
Sudden Deaths.
On Wednesday noon, a seaman named Christo
pher Spencer, aged 22 years, one of the rrrw
of the schooner Sea Gull , died on board, afiera
shoit illness, lie was a native of Nova Scotia.
An inquest was held on his body. Verdict,visita
tion of God.
On the same morning, a man named Thomas
Lawson, boiler maker, in the employ of Mr. A.
N. Mi llkr, while attending a funeral, was taken
suddenly ill in the graveyard, and carried in a
store corner of East liroad Street and Turk Street
Lane, where he died in a few hours. Verdict of
the jury the same as above.
A female by the name of Eliza Moosy, 1,0
died suddenly on the same day. She had Wn
complaining for some time. The result of the
inquest was the same as in the other case*.
%
Launch of the Savannah Floating Dry
Dock.
We were present yesterday morning, says our
n. iglibor of the News, at the launch of the Dry
Dock, which took place about half-past eight
o’clock. The spectacle was an exceedingly in
teresting one and the launch mas nianuged in t
manner which reflected the highest credit on the
capacity and skill of Mr. Lakdershini, under
whose direction the Dock has been built. The
first essay to move the immense structure from the
weighs was made by the steamers Gen. Clinchnnd
St. Matthews, but after a “ long pull and a strong
pull together,” upon the hawsers attached to tb
Dock, they only proved their inabi.ity to accom
plish the undertaking, the St. Matthews losing
part of her after railing and her boat, in herdet
peratc effort to assist the Deck into it* own ele
ment. The steamers were finally detached, and
Loth moved off, the St. Matthews cutting a rather
“ gorrv figure ” os we say in Georgia, minis her
tail-feathers. After some further preparation*nd
after Mr. Landershine bad brought his opi^ 1 *
ances effectually to bear upon the upper side of
the Dock, the steamers were again attached, when
the Dock, with searee’y any assistance from them,
moved smoothly and steadily if not graceful Jv from
the ground weighs, and settled as gently >n the
water, as if it had been a baby’s cradle instead of
a cradle in which ships are to he nursed. Th#
drowd then gave three hearty cheers in compli
ment to the successful accomplishment of thi*
new and important enterprise, an enterprise which
is destined not only to pay handsome dividend* to
the proprietors, but greatly to benefit the markin' 9
and commercial interests of the city.
The Dock is on the plan of Gilbert’s Patent
Balancing Floating Dry Dock ; is 220 feet long,!’/
65 wide, and 20 feet deep, and is capable of re
ceiving a vessel of 2500 tons burthen. We learn
that it is expected to have the Dock in roadmen
for the reception of vessels by the firstof Norr/ti
ber. Jt will have two engnesand twelve pump*,
and will, when completed, he equal to any u*h fr
nierchantship Dock in the United State s. Tb*
engines and machinery are being built by our rn
teip ising fellow citizen, A. N. Miller-
We take pride in the Savannah Floating P r 7
Dock, which vve regard as another and iii’P l ' rt ,n
movement towards that commercial eminence an
prosperity which is the sure destiny of our city-
There is a spirit of steady, persevering entrrpr'*
among our business men, which is accompli.h £
great things for Savannah, and wealth cant ot
speedily to conduct Iter to that rank amorg
commercial cities, to which, by her gengrapl
position and natural advantages, she is entitle
We understand that the dock will remain*
davs in its present position, near .las. A. G
tock’s Mill, previous to its being taken acr0 * 5
river to Low’s Wharf where it is to be station^ 1
The Death of a Hero.
One of the most fierce encounters which e
took place on the briny wave, was fought by .
brave man whose death we chronicle to
•• Commodore Jones” ot the time of bis
bar, wdien the bloody engagementof the M a P
Frolic took place, Captain of the former.
naval engagement between these two vessel-
Frolic (British) vastly the superior of the
nearly every American is informed : and" ei
every Amer ican be proud of it. for it “ J *
the most glorious of victories, immortalizi'e
man who fought in it! In three quarter-
hour the vaunted red cross of St. Georg
struck, and the stripes and stars floated al ,<lV
The desperate encounter took place near j
years ago ; but so signal was the triumph
recollection of it is as fresh to-dav in the nlin
those who revere valor, and desire that th e
bellowing of the British li-m may be stil ,r< *’
was when the accounts of the victory whe**
received. Nor did the after capture of the’
and her prize, by a British 74. diminish > n
slightest the respect entertained for the 0
dore and his brave fellows. Now,
many of them are wrapped in their windmf
the sails furled around them, anti tbei r Df>*
out, we trust they have all * gone alcft 1