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[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT.
A PRIZE POEM.
BY MISS A>'XXE R. lILBI ST.
Under the lamplight, watch them come.
Figures, one, two, three;
A restless mass moves on and on,
Like waves on a stormy sea.
Lovers wooing.
Billing and cooing.
Heedless of the warning old,
Somewhere’in nncouth rhyme told,
That old Time, Love’s enemy.
Makes the warmest heart grow cold.
See, how fond the maiden leoneth
On that strong encircling arm;
While her timid heart is beating
Near that other heart so warm;
Downcast are her modest glances,
Filled, her heart, with pleasant fancies—
Clasp her, lover!—clasp her closer—
Time, the winner, thon, the loser!
He will steal
From her sparkling eye, its hi ightness.
From her step, its native lightness;
Or, perchance,
Ere another year has fled.
Thou may'st sec her pale and dead
Trusting maiden!
Heart, love-laden—
Thou may’st learn
That the lip which breathed so softly
Told to thee a honeyed lie;
That the heart, now beating near thee.
Gave to thee no fond return—
Learn —and die!
Under the lamplight, watch them come,
Figures, one, two, three;
The moon is up—the stars arc out,
And hurrying crowds I see—
Some with sorrow,
• Os the morrow,
Thinking bitterly;
Why grief borrow ?
Some , that morrow
Ne’er shall live to see.
Which of all this crowd shall Ood
Summon to his court to night f
Which of these many feet have trod
These streets their last ? Who first shall press
The floor that shines with diamonds bright?
To whom of ail this throng shall fall
The bitter lot,
Tp hear the righteous Judge pronounce:
“Depart, ye cursed —I know ye not!”—
Oh! startling question !—who t
Under the lamplight, watch them come,
Faces fair to sec—
Some that pierce your very soul
With thrilling intensity.
Cold and ragged,
Lean and haggard—
God! what misery!
gee them watch yon rich brocade,
By their toiling fingers made,
With the eyes of poverty.
Does the tempter whisper now :
“JSuch may be thine own!” —but howt—
Sell thy woman's virtue, wretch.
And the price that it will fetch
Is a silken robe as fine—
Gems that glitter—hearts that shine—
But, pause, reflect!
Ere the storm shall o’er thee roll,
Ere thy sin spurns all control—
Though with jewels bright, bedecked,
Thou wilt lose thy self respect;
All the good will spurn thy touch
As if 'twere an adder's sting—
And the price that it will bring
/* a ruined soul!
God protect thee —keep thee right,
Lonely wanderer of the night!
Under the lamplight, watch them come—
Youth, with spirits light;
His handsome face I'm sure doth make
Some quiet household bright. ,
Yet, where shall this lover.
This son, this brother,
Hide his head to night?
Where the bubbles swim
On the wine-cup’s brim;
Where the song rings out
Till the moon grows dim;
Where congregate the knave and fool,
To graduate in vice’s school.
Oh! turn back, youth!
Thy mother’s prayer
Rings in thy ear—
Let tinners not
Entice thee there. ,
Under the lamp-light, watch them come,
The gay, the blithe, the free;
And, some with a look of anguished paiu
’Twould break your heart to see.
Some from a marriage,
Altar, and priest;
gome from a death-bed,
Some from a feast;
Some from a den of crime, and some
Hurrying on to a happy home;
Some bowed down with age and woe,
Praying meekly as they go;
Others—whose friends and honor are gone—
To sleep all night on the pavement stone;
And losing all, but shame and pride,
Be found in the morning a suicide.
Rapidly moves the gliding throng—
List the laughter, jest, and song.
Poverty treads
On the heels of wealth;
Loathsome disease
Near robust health.
Grief bows down
Its weary head;
Crime skulks on,
With a cat-like tread.
Youth and beauty, age and pain—
Vice, and virtue form the train—
Misery, happiness, side by side;
Those who had best in childhood died,
Close to the good—on they go,
gome to joy, and some to woe,
Under the lamplight—
Watch them glide.
On, like the waves of a swelling sea,
On, on, on, to Eternity!
—
Discovering of the Tomb of Pharaoh Amo-
SIS. — A letter from Cairo, in the Const itutionnel,
says that the general subject of conversation in
that city is tiie discovery which has just been
made by the well known arclueologist, M. Mar
iette. Ho has found, at Thebes, after long and
difficult researches, the tomb, still intact, of
Pharaoh Amosis. The King is lying in a coffin,
completely covered with gold leaf, ornamented
with large wings painted on it. Thirty jewels of
great value were found in the same coffin by the
side of the king, as was also a hatchet of gold,
ornamented with figures in lapeis lazuli.
Somo years ago, M. Marietto had a similar
piece of good fortune, in finding in the tomb of
Apis, the jewels now form the principal ornament
of the Egyptian Musoum of the LoUvre. The
jewels of Amosis are still more valuable, from
thoir nnml>er and quality. This discovery of a
royal tomb intact is the most important one that
M. Mariette has yet made in Egypt.
mwwmm'&M wmm ib vxiusgxDK.
We regret that we have not been permit,
ted to attach the author's name to the contribu
tion which we publish below, entitled, “the Race.’’
It is a name more widely known than that of
any writer who has yet appeared in our columns.
Its mention would cause the graphic sketch be
low to be read by thousands of readers, beyond
the limits of the circulation of .the Field and Fire
side, in every State of the Union.
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
THE RACE. .
“Locum capiunt. eignoque repente
Corripiunt, spatta audito. limenque relinquunt
Kffusl, nimbo, simile*: Dim til ultima signant."
Transplanting is frequently an improvement
to both man and vegetable. To the “forked rad
ish,” fresh influences are imparted in respect to
soil, climate, and society. The pioneer has hard
necessities pressing on him, and cannot indulge
in his previous pastimes. The jocund jest, with
its merry laugh, the quick repartee, with its
sharp snap, the captivating gossip, usually
“ground in” with mystery and malice, the “Va
riety Store,” with its gross defilements; and, in
deed, all his sportive amusements, are wanting
in his comparative state of isolation. Every
thing is new about him—his home, soil, and
associates. Even his habit of labor has a novel
constancy which necessity impresses. Hence,
new ideas are awakened, and new energies de
veloped.
In this condition was Peter Persimmon, when
he emigrated to the South from tiie Old North
State, where lie had grown to manhood without
ambition, and almost without offence. He ac
cepted, and answered to tiie appellation of Pete,
given to lfim by universal consent, ne could
not object to this curtailment, since he clipped
his own vernacular as closely as he sheared his
sheep.
When he first came among us, his appearance
and dress indicated an unmistakable locality.—
There was a certain dryness of skin, which, in
some measure, may be illustrated by his native
State, whose juices, ( political , if there be sucli ?)
have been absorbed by its more pretending ri
val or patron —the Old Dominion.
His garb, though locally fashionable, was de
ficient in uniformity. Tiie length and breadth
of liis coat was in manifest contrast with his
pantaloons. The upper garment had subsidized
tiie lower, and was expanded in great profusion
of the web, but not with that neatness and vol
ume of a lady's skirt, which decorates and
sweeps tiie pavement. Indigo and copperas
were tiie simple chemicals that lent their com
bined hues to tiie stripes of ids vestments, whose
range was considered to be most ornamental by
being “ ringed.”
It is to be noticed, that in emigrating to the
southward, many people of the Middle States
kept constantly in view a similarity of the earth's
formation to that which they had left. The gran
ite-belt was followed closely when the emigrant
of it came to the South. Nor was the rule va
ried in respect to other emigrants, who had lived
in and left tiie pine region of tiie Carolinas.—
Here, tiie spontaneous herbage, so attractive to
tiie indolent habits of the herdsman, the facility'
of cultivating a loose soil, the products of that
soil reared with tiie least care and labor, and
above all, the cheerful and prompt blaze of the
lightwood, fixed liis “destiny” on the spot, where
inclination confirmed habit, and habit ripened
into love. Pete was not an exception to the
rule, but fell into it as one “to the manner born.”
Pete had performed with his faithful ox—No
liorns—liis forenoon's task of plowing, and re
turned to liis dwelling. No-lioms stood under
the shade of a tree, and was feeding, by
way of preparing for additional labor, and chew
ing the meditative cud, whilst the languid, still
loving eyo of his master rested on him.
It was then that a man on horseback was
seen approaching down the gentle slope of the
lane. This was Cader Beed, who was mounted
on a nag of high metal and sharp points, or, as
his rider described him, as a “ horse of tremen
dious ambition, and that corn and fodder didn’t
show upon him.” It is probable that owing to
his indomitable temper, lie was early stricken
with blindness. His name was Ginger, though
his master frequently called him, on impressive
occasions, his Ginger-Sprout.
Cader was susceptible and easily tempted ;
confidence and credulity beset him inwardly
and outwardly'. He was apt in acquiring habits
not fit to be followed. Most of his foibles came
by beguilement. Few were innate.
When opposite to the place where Pete was
sitting, Cader checked liis horse, and threw his
left leg on tho pummel of the saddle, when the
customary greetings passed between them, full of
the common-place anxieties concerning self,
family, neighborhood, and crops, which an
Arab might consider equally devoted as to share
his bread.
After a pause, “Have you come to that, Pete?”
inquired Cader, and at the same time casting a
leer on Nohorns.
Suddenly a tinge came over the cheek of
Pete ; “ his heart’s meteors tilting in his face."
So invariably is it that companionship with kind
ness carries generous reciprocities, even be
tween the human and brute kinds. Pete and
his ox had been partners of toil in the field and
forest. Noliorns wqs docile, gentle, and patient
—qualities always garnered in the memory when
their possessor has passed away. But there
stood No-homs, “sensible to feeling as to sight.”
Cader perceived that Pete had been touched,
and promptly said “that he had tried to plow a
steer, but the beast went so slow, that he took
two naps in plowing a single row.”
“Ah, ha!” exclaimed Pete. “Very good and
very true, if you are one of the seven sleepers.
Do you think all steers are alike ?”
“Certainly,” answered Cader, “as two black
eyed peas, only some are fatter than others—all
are slow.”
“Then,” with great civility rejoined, Pete, “yon
are mistaken. In my day and in North Caro
lina I have seen steers that could run.”
“ You don’t mean to say that Nohorns is of
that breed ?” inquiringly asserted Cader.
“ I can’t tell, as I have never tried him but
in the plow and cart. If put to his trumps, he
might win or lose a trick.”
“ Oh, ho 1” exclaimed Cader, “ I see what
you are after. If so be, you wish to run him
against Ginger, name your terms. What odds
do you want ? Will you bet five dollars in good
money—no wild cat ”
Cader was thus rapidly proposing for a race,
when Pete lazily rose from his seat, went round
to Ginger and examined him with apparent list
lessness especially his eyes. Cader interposed,
by saying “that Ginger was blind in both eyes.”
“Stone-blind ?” asked Pete.
“Yes, he can’t tell daylight from midnight.
How will you run?” impatiently asked Cader.
“Let mo gather my thoughts,” replied Pete,
who had moved back to his seat witli the same
perceptible langor that he had left it. He ap
peared to become deeply contemplative, which the
eager nature of Cader could not easily brook.
“ Come, Pete, name your terms. After all
said and thought, it is only a blind horse against
a no-horn steer.”
“ Well,” replied Pete, with a simulated yawn,
“I think that I will run No-horns against Gin
ger, if we can agree on the terms of the race.”
In the beginning of the negotiation, some of
the preliminaries were soon adjusted.
It was agreed that No-liorns was to have ten
yards in the start of Ginger, and that the horse
was to overtake, or pass the ox, if he won the
race. This articlo was the result of necessity
and mutual honor, as no person, except the
parties, was present, who could judge the race.
Also, that each party was to ride his own
animal, but that there should be no claim for
‘•foul-riding or loss of weight,” in case either
was thrown in the race.
Also, that the ox was to have a position on the
right side of the lane, whilst the horse's starting
point was to be nearer on the left side, and with
thirty feet in the rear of No-horns, measured
from two parallel lines, drawn at a right angle
from the heads of the two racers.
Pete insisted that No-horns should have a
position on the right, without a clear conception
that it was the place of honor. He saw an ele
ment of success in it, which had been calculated
with accuracy, and probably in strict conformity
to the most approved system of the doctrine of
chances. Cader was indifferent and impatient.
He had not carefully examined the localities, and
would doubtless have overlooked that, which
the strategetieal eye of Pete detected, not
wholly as a contingency. The sanguine tem
perament of Cader (may Heaven help him and his
class!) usually brought all his schemes within a
narrow compass. In this instance, he had cir
cumscribed himself to the mettle and heels of
Ginger.
Some disagreement arose between the parties
in respect to the one who was to give the ex
hilerating word, “Go.” “ Where there is a will,
there is always away.” In default of the con
stitutional currency, the parties were compelled
to take the school-boy's alternative—wet or
dry on a chip. Ginger won the word.
The greatest difficulty was, whether the race
was to be run westward or eastward, as the
lane lay in these directions. To the East the
distance was longer, and surface gently rising.
To the West the depression continued, which
increased the chances of success of a sure-footed
animal, like the ox; and the distance was much
shorter. There was no “ red-tapery” here, but
earnest diplomacy which was satisfactorily con
cluded by a poetic explosion of Pete’s, witli a
flourish of his right arm over his head:
“ Westward the star of empire knock* its way.”
All matters having been arranged, by skill on
the one side, and confidence on the other, the
riders were mounted, the animals appropriately
placed, when in quick succession came and re
turned the words:
“ Are you ready
“ Yes.”
“Go.”
Away they went, with “a fair start.” Acci
dents wall happen in the best regulated families.
Pete was soon “unseated.” He was not silent
in his fall; but gave forth a hideous scream,
which might have challenged the sympathies of
Cader, as it accelerated the movements of No
homs.
After his fall, Pete suddenly threw himself into
the shape of two sides of a right-angled triangle
—his body as the base, and his legs as the perpen
dicular ; or, as he exuberantly described, “like
two fence rails, with toes, stuck down at the end
of the “first-cut.”
The race was slashing to the sand, and of
short duration. It terminated at the end of the
lane, where on the right was a thick cluster of
scrubby oaks, into whicli No-horns darted with
the case and security of an accustomed retreat, but
from which Ginger recoiled, though urged to
penetrate by tongue and heel. It was a “dead
lock.” The race was over and won.
As Cader was returning, after the unsuccess
ful pursuit of Nohoms, his chagrin was increased
by certain gambols of Pete, who was full of
searching emotions : still, none of them had the
sharp angularity of the Y. • He was only demon
strative in melody and action. His chant of
victory was a piece of jingle and rhyme. He
began with an importation from ‘‘Old Virginny
‘•lndia cotton petticoat, nappy cotton town,
Shoes and stockings in the hand, and feet upon the
ground.”
His attitudes were changeful. He would
turn the point of his foot to the earth, and ele
vato the heel; then reverse the position, by shov
ing the heel into the sand, and raising his toes,
which lie accompanied with a stave from the
popular ballad of “Jim Crow."
“Why did you holloa ?” asked Cader.
“Only to let Ginger know that I was thrown.
I knew that he was promiscuous in his stride,
and might run over some people unseen, still, I
was sure that he would see, and spare my fence
rails.”
“And, you might have added,” said Cader,
“and to scare Nohorns. Here’s the five.”
“I can’t take your money,” answered Pete.
“Why not ?” quickly interrogated Cader.
“Because, whenever you go it blind against a
scared steer, and scrub oak thicket, you may bo
certain of a sudden pull up,”
“Then, Pete, I have one request to make,
which is that you will not speak of this race.
Remember, Ginger has a character to lose.”
“And No-homs has one to make, and a few
more such racer will
“There it is,” interposed Cader, “a banter for
another race.” “I cave, and Ginger is for sale.”
“Do you intend to buy another horse ?” in
quired Pete.
“ Yes,” responded Cader.
“ Then,” solemnly rejoined Pete, “don’t go to
North Carolina for a race. You will lose all.—
Since I have been in Georgia, I am growing dull
er and slower every day.”
-
The Iron Crown of Lombardy. —On the
23rd of April last the Iron Crown of Lombardy
was solemnly removed by the Austrians, under
the protection of a strong body of horse, from
Monza to the fortress of Mantua. This Iron
Crown has, of course, a history. The little town
of Monza was the spot on which Theodoric the
Great (the Dietrich of Bero, of the German Hero
Legend,) Mhd a palace built, and on which Theu
delinde, wife of the Longobard King, Agilulf,
had a magnificent church erected. To this
church Theudelinde, presented the Iron Crown,
which she had made for her husband. Our au
thority for this is the historian of the Longobards,
Paul Wamefrid. The crown is made of gold,
but has inside an iron ring, of which the legend
relates that it has been forged from the nails of
our Saviour’s cross. Charlemagne was crowned
with this Iron Crown —after him all the German
Emperors, who were likewise Kings of Lombar
dy. On the 26th of May, 1805, Napoleon put
it on his head, with the words of renown—
“ Dieu me Fa dome; gare a qui y touchera.” —
This threat became afterwards the motto of the
Order of the Iron Crown, which Austria, with
a few slight alterations, allowed to continue in
existence.
—m
Liberty will not descend to a people; a peo
ple must raise themselves to liberty; it is a
blessing that must be earned before it can be
enjoyed.
HT We are much obliged to the lady who has
kindly communicated for our columns the fol
lowing sketch. It is from the pen of Professor
M. La Boude, of South Carolina College, and
was intended, originally, as a contribution to a
volume which it was proposed to publish in aid
of the Mount Vernon cause. The proposed pub
lication having been abandoned, the following
■ sketch was handed us by a friend who had ob
j tained the author's consent, for insertion in the
Field and Fireside. A Poem entitled “ The Pil
! grim,” from another pen, but having the same
original destination, was handed us at the same
! time. The poem wiil be given to our readers in
! a subsequent number of the Field and Fireside :
AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON.
Some years ago there lived in Edgefield Dis
trict, South Carolina, an old lady named Perry.
I was passing the road on which she lived, in a
carriage with the late Judge Butler. He said to
me that it was his habit to call upon her, when
ever he was in the neighborhood ; that she was
a great Whig—had seen Washington, and spoke
of him with a fervor and devotion rarely equalled.
She had often described the great man to him,
and recounted the incidents of their meeting ;
but he desired that I should hear the story from
her own lips. When we reached the house, we
alighted and entered. I was introduced by the
Judge, and in a few moments, I mentioned the
name of Washington. To her, it was a name
dear above all others, and her beaming eounte
nance at once showed that I had touched the
deep fountain of her love and affections. “Have
you ever seen Washington ?” “Yes, yes,” she
replied; “a great many years ago he passed
through this neighborhood. My father, was a
Whig in the Revolution, and a Captain. He
rendered good service to his country, and at the
end of the war lost his life in battle. He left a
wife and several children. We were living not
far from this spot, wh:n Washington came to
the South. One afternoon, about dark, a car
riage stopped at our door. There were three or
four horses, and two servants. A gentleman
came in, and asked to stay all night. I was in
the room, when he entered, and, young as I
was, I was struck by his appearance. He did
not look like other men. He was a large, tall,
sweet, pleasant, smooth-looking man. I had no
suspicion as to who he was, but I was certain,
that he was very uncommon for something. In a
short time he told me that he was George Wash
ington. And now, the youngest of us looked
upon him as a father, for we had all heard of
him, and been taught to love him. He said to
us that our deceased father was a brave man, and
a patriot; that he knew what he had done for
his country ; that lie had made a long drive to
reach our house, that he might see his family.
In about half an hour, he left the house
and I followed him secretly'. He went to
the horse-lot, to see about his horses, and I tell
you, he scolded his man for not properly attend
ing to them. In a short time, he returned, and
took his seat with the family. He then called
me to him. I was shy, and would not go, but
ho urged me, and at last I went to him. He
took mo in liis lap. put his arm around me, talked
about my father, and told me how he loved all of
us. He was so affectionate, and talked so kind
ly, that I soon forgot I had never seen him be
fore. While he had me in his lap, he slipped
two gold pieces into my hand, and oh ! I was so
young and foolish, that I soon parted with them 1
If I had them now, how I would prize them 1
Well, when supper was ready, he took his seat
at the table. We were poor, and some of the
elder part of the family had to servo as waiters.
Washington’s servant was in the room, and see
ing how the waiting on supper table was done,
he said to him with great feeling, in these very
words : “Why do you not wait upon the table,
sir? why do you stand there like a log ?”
Coming, as this story does, from a reliable
source, it may serve to illustrate the character of
Washington. It is a picture of that great man
on the roadside—in the intercourse of common
life. It is not Washington surrounded by the
pomp and pageantry of a military chieftain—
Washington, the head of a great nation, with all
tho splendors which attach to a court; but
Washington, the man, in the naked simplicity of
his character. Here, he is presented as moved
by the common affections which actuate human
ity ; as letting his love go forth towards a little
girl, and bestowing caresses which the innocence
and simplicity of childhood are apt to inspire in
common bosoms; as alive to the necessities of a
family in straightened circumstances, and anxious
to abate as far as possible, the trouble of giving
him entertainment; as striving to make himself
agreeable in their household, and lastly, as ex
hibiting a benevolence which thought it not
beneath its proper exactions to look to his horses
and provide for their wants and necessities.
Such a picture gives us a view of Washington
which appeals to every heart. It touches a
sympathetic chord in every bosom, and embold
ens the humblest even to eall him friend and bro
ther.
South Carolina College, Columbia, S. C.
THE J3OLIAN HARP.
During the summer season many persons
might enjoy the melancholy musicofthis instru
ment : we, therefore, give the following direc
tions for its construction:
Tt consists of a long, narrow box, of very
thin wood, about six inces deep, with a circle in
the middle of the upper side, of an inch and a
half in diameter, in which are to be drilled
small holes. On this side seven, ten or more
strings of very fine catgut are stretched over
bridges at each end, like the bridge of a fiddle,
and screwed up or relaxed with screw-pins.
The strings must all be turned to one and the
same note, (D is perhaps the best,) and the in
strument should be placed in a window partly
open, in which the width is exactly equal to
the length of the harp, with the sash just raised
to give the air admission. When the air blows
upon these strings with different degrees of
force, it will excite different tones of sound.
Sometimes tho blast brings out all tho tones in
full concert, and sometimes sinks them to the
softest murmurs. A colossal instrument of this
description was invented at Milan, In 1786, by
the Abbe Galtoni. He stretched seven strong
wires, tuned to the notes of the gamut, from
the top of a tower sixty feet high to the house
of a Signor Moscate, who was interested in the
success of the experiment; and his apparatus,
called the “giant’s harp,” in blowing weather
yielded lengthened peals of harmonious music.
In a storm, this music was sometimes heard at
the distance of several miles.
—— — mms- -**♦-
Capt. Harwood, Commander Dahlgreen, and
Lieut A. L. Maury, havo been, by the Navy De
partment, appointed as a board to test such
small fire arms as may be presented.
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.] m
GOING IT BLIND—A TRUE STATEMENT ON
FACTS.
A year or two after the settlement of Merri
wether count}-, Georgia, a few persons who did
not love the restraints of religious discipline,
formed a small society of Universalists. They
had a monthly meeting at a large school house.
Their minister not attending very regularly, Dr.
Adams, a talented man, and an excellent physi
cian, would hold forth with a lecture in his place.
Amongst the society, was an old Baptist, who
had distilled liquor, and drank more of it than he
ought to have done, and his church had turned
him out. Age, infirmities, and too much dram ,
had laid him on his death bed. lie sent for Dr.
Adams to prescribe for him, being sorely troubled
both in body and mind. “ I don’t know, Doc
tor,” said he, “ about our doctrine of universal
salvation. I think I shall die, and I don’t feel
quite as safe as I have heard people say they do
in like cases. Do try and do something for me,
if you can. I’m mighty bad off every way.—
Things look dark in the grave. I aint prepared
to die.”
. Thc doctor was taken aback; but, rallying, in
l his jovial way, he said: “ Oh, no danger—no
danger; die like a man, and just go it blind!''
He went it blind; the Doctor followed him blind,
too, in a year after; the society dissolved; and
now in the neighborhood there is no distillery
no drunkenness—but a flourishing church, with
nearly two hundred members, who. we trust, are
not taught with a blind faith. R.
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
A CHEW OF TOBACCO.
Tobacco has been praised in both poetry and
prose for hundreds of years. The way-worn
traveller, the storm butting sailor, the wounded
soldier have begged it as almost a last request
—and many a poor mortal has breathed his last
breath —pinching its delicious juices through his
chattering teeth. We think our old friend Mr.
James Epps, of Newton county, had a taste of
its enjoyment far beyond many who think they
love it. He was a volunteer in Capt. Saffold’s
company, in their campaign in 1816. On his
discharge, returning through the Indian nation,
meeting a negro man,he only thought of tobacco
having been deprived of it for some two weeks;
running up to the’negro, he exclaimed : “ for God
sake give me a chew of tobacco.” “ Lord, marsa,”
said the negro, “ I just put the last chew in my
mouth, half an hour ago.” “Well, I must have it ”
said Epps, “ out with it, or I’ll kill you.” Choking
the negro, he disgorged a stout chaw-. Said Epps :
“ I shall never forget the taste of that tobacco,
as long as I live; I kept it in my mouth all night
and next day—l yet dream of it—taste and
memory must be immortal.” R.
The Bible.—The follow-ing is a calculation of the
number of books, verses, letters, etc., contained
in the Old and New Testaments. They are
worth reading and preserving:
Old Testament. —Number of books, 39 ; chap
ters, 929; verses, 33,214; words, 562,439; let
ters, 2,729,100.
The middle book is Proverbs.
The middle chapter is Job xxix. .
The middle verse would be Chronicle xv. 17,
if there were a verse more, and verse 18 if there
were a verse less.
The word “and” occurs 35,543 times.
The word “Jehovah” occurs 6,355 times.
The shortest verse is 1 Chronicles i. 25.
The 21st verse of the 7th chapter of Ezra
contains all the letters of the alphabet.
The 19th of the 2 Kings and the 37tli chapter
are alike.
New Testament. —Number of books, 27; chap
ters, 268; verses, 6,050; words, 181,258; let
ters, 828,580.
The middle book is 2 Thessalonians.
The middle chapter is Romans xiit., if there
were a chapter less; and xiv., if there were a
chapter more.
The middle and least verso is John xi. 35.
Old and New Testament. —Number of books
66; chapters, 1,189; verses, 40,264; words,
773,797; letters, 3,556,680.
The middle chapter, and the least in the
Bible, is the 118th Psalm.
The middle verse is Psalm cxvn.
Calcclator.
Superiority of TUE Brain in Man.— The de
crease of quantity in brain, and the correspond
ing diminution of intelligence, do not run regular
and parallel all down the scale ' animal exist
ence, No very accurate conclusions, therefore,
can be drawn as to the degree of intelligence
any animal possesses from the proportional
amount of its brain. In the mammalia the
principle holds good very generally. The
weight of man’s brain in proportion to that of
his body varies from 1 to 22 to 1 to 35—that is,
giving an average of about Ito 27. The long
armed ape is as Ito 40; the fox 1 to 205, the
donkey as 1 to 254, the beaver as 1 to 290, the
hare as 1 to 300, the horso as 1 to 400, the ele
phant as 1 to 500, and the rhinoceros as 1 to
2,000. In birds the proportion is greater; but
not the cerebral portion, which is the seat of
the intellectual faculties, for here the cerebellum
is comparatively large.
The brain of the canary bird is given as 1 to
45, the sparrow as 1 to 25, the eagle as 1 to 360
that of the goose as 1 to 360, and it is said the
cavity for the brain in the parrot is smaller than
that of any other bird. From the fact of this
bird being able to chatter a little, and to give a
sort of expression to certain words, it might
have been expected to have a larger proportion
of brain; but what display of intelligence is
there in the talk of a parrot? In the reptiles
the brain becomes exceedingly small. That of
the tortoise is given as Ito 2,240; that of the
sea tortoise as 1 to 5,688 ; and the space for the
brain in the crocodile is so small that it will
scarcely admit a man’s thumb into it. In some
fishes the brain is almost lost. In the tunny it
is as 1 to 37,000, while, however, that of the
carp approaches very nearly to the proportion of
that of the elephant. It is, therefore, difficult to
gather any particular and precise conclusion
from such an irregular gradation of facts; but
the general and broad principle is plain. With
the exception of a few small birds, as sparrows,
finches, and bats, which are generally very lean,
and therefore weigh but little, man greatly ex
ceeds all in the proportion.
Phrenological Journal
m ■
Harbor Filling Up.—The harbor of New
port, R. 1., the most extensive, secure and ac
cessible port on the Atlantic seaboard of the
United States, is said to be slowly but surely
filling up, at the rate of about one inch per year.
This is attributed to two causes, viz : the wash
of the streets through the sewers, and the ashes
and cinders thrown overboard by steamers, be
fore reaching their wharves. The latter is
surely preventible.
—
Have any wounded you with injuries ? Meet
them with patience. Hasty words rankle the
wound; soft language dresses it ; forgiveness
cures it; and oblivion takes away the scar.
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