The independent press. (Eatonton [Ga.]) 1854-????, November 11, 1854, Image 1
j. a. friiNfiß, i)iToi{.j VOLUMEL |) o rtf]]. All Mankind are Barbers. •I'll j»rovo t>> yon. my liiomi. I lu<po, That notion tloiiLtcan haiKov, Ti.ataH thf world’s a Barbers shop, And every one's a briber. Ami some because’lis funny; And brokers shave you in the street. Ami only shave Tor money. Some sl'.ave their f ireheads sliek ami eloun. If with low heads they're bothered, 3t.it then, Tis phmdy to i.>c seen. That they're the ones who lathered. To court a girl with eloquence, Tii t da". 1; never frets her, lint lathers lier \\ itls eomplituoiits. And shaves he; when he gets her. ■Hie nvaid.'ns also, now and then, tVho are so fetid of *i>oH;tt£, Soft-soap the shallow-nunded, And shave 'em ..iiile they're courtii.g. But nnui and girls who thus \d!i L>;id t if soaping while they tarried, Will find, at hist, vith bitter cost, That both y<>t shaved w'en married. Miscellaneous. >OX TllK IN I>KPKN’DKNT ?!&*<?. SSaehclorS) &r. Header, and mean the milk and peach portion of you.) did you ever .slipup to the key-hole of an old or young bachelor's bedlam, and take a peep ? < )faii disordered, top y-turvey places on the toj > side of this "green terrene.” vou will lind it he re. But thinking that vou never did, I will try to give vou a sketch thereof. Yet lam afraid the mind of man can’t reach far enough for language sufficient to paint the re* alines a- they are. WY-11, vou know that he is unhap py, of course. Ilis life is one contin* ' uul round of trouble, hair-brushing, whisker-blacking, cravat-tying, ct cet ra. He loafs all day. Nothing intcr ••sts him. save little amtisenu-nts, (as In- is wont to call them) but still they bad to crimes as dark as h—l itself.— IH drives fust horses and .says “get up here, 2.40. on a shell road, what I feed vou for?” lie tiourishes lies little cane, for a head a — horse's foot and ankle — smokes fine regalias —sips magnificent brandy—in short, lie “cuts a swell.”— But night comes, he returns homo, (that is, when lie ain’t on a spree, or some thing else.) Ah ! I am “sorter kind. • •r” digressing. I promised to take you into that /dace. Well, walk in ; first take a view of his lordship, about 12 o’clock at night. There lie sits in all the pomp and grandeur of his own individuality, on what was once call ed a split bottomed chair, (but it ain’t now. for he has eel it out) with a plank so hard it would make your headache to look at it. coat off, hat and slippers on, heels slightly elevated above his head, slap up against the mantle-piece; corncob pipe, something under a foot Jong, with a stein about, two inches, lb; is, leaning on his desk, or rather that is what he intondeel it for. But J guess you would say, to use an old u.xpr* *ssion concerning some preachers, | **it answered when something else was j called for on it is something that; looks like paper, his shaving utensils. and a!!.) some books, towel? looking-.;’**, anrl frequently, if not . --a dirty collar, and a pair of , J,* to the middle of the ■AoeVs. worn o». , • Tie’s got a Arv P'W* voi'soft pine that he gTh i ivehon, oil «>fsome merchant's goods box, and one -stick of wood. Now, ntay be, you think that he hasn't got a wa.*U-staud. Yes he has, (and a two-story one at that.) On the top story he keep* his pun, for since In; has arrived at the a ,, c of getting ‘‘‘tight” and coming home up against his stand, bowl, pitcher and all coining ker-smnsh, he finds it rather too expensive to keep them. On the second story, what ■do you. reckon he keeps there Wliy, “ Black Bab” of course— i. ,e., a bottle of gin or rum to keep the swell head oil next morning; and lie's got a wardrobe too, but -there ain’t any thing in that, for.ail his -clothes he pitches on top, or a chair, -or the bed, tor convenience’ sake. Ilis library consists of a bible given to hint by a fond and doting mother, when ho first left her guardian protection for the classic halls, to be come ft Wiser i)i)d beite/ mam But ah J % Mlefltlji Miriuil:—Drtolhi toifitrtyturc, flolitics, an) General Itlhccllanii. < I v. •—v '■O j Mother you little thought lie would rot urn in about six months, ait adept ; in making “gin cock-tails,” ‘“seven up” : and turkey stealing. That bible is al most gone, not from use though, but ; because lie hasn't used it enough to 1 make it healthv. Aml (Imre is a copy of Moore. Wi 11, the way he reads that ain't slow. He k;.s committed the whole of it to mem ory, so that wlimi lie calls on you and you say rich and spicy things, h can come down upon you with that thing peg try. which always brings salt from woman’s eye. and then vou may be cer tain he has got you ii»r one “epc st’wcep’sf-e'e” or at least a squeeze of the hand at parting. A few novels and a pack of cards complete his libra ry. And there is his ‘'Piiieter” dog over there laying on his cloak. He awakes occasionally and pitifully looks at his master, and seems to think, “poor, miserable, love-stricken biped, you arc, I know, now thinking of her who holds you • heart, or over some word said or deed done in v;air last midnight carousal, or perchance about that dun the tailor gave you to-day.” He has a trunk with no top to it, always has/ to borrow some married man's valise) when he goes any where, and if you are curious to know what is in that, trunk, just slipup slyly some day and take a peep and then I think you’ll cry) out, “(i rent dehosephat!” We are through now. But what do you reckon he is thinking about ; it iD of you. Hid you see that sigh? th it last, long, puff? His heart is faraway. As each curl of smoke leaves his pipe and rises upwards, it wafts his .Jo ill higher and higher on wings of lovJ.jto fields of imaginative bliss, there] ltd dwell for a while and hold communion with the angels above. For, fair one/ in his estimation you are nothing sty or t of an angel (and got wings too) foil oft when he thought he had your hea't it took wings and flew away. OH ! voir little rosy-cheeked, “cd lipped, black or blue-eyed, raven or sandy-haired, pretty-footed, nice,-, oft, round, tapering, velvet-armed, !d ;bo naired specimen of bright humanity, did you but knoiv bow many sweet hours of sleep you have causkU us poor—l don’t know what to calfl us — to lose, e’er another cold and ipan winter should unfold from arou 1 us® it’s withering and chilly arm.- you 1 would consent ‘‘to mend our c>thes j’ and do our washing." Olf the rack | again. That fellow is buildim air- | castles and you are the fountain iere- | of, but just about the time he tin- • isliing it. that treacherous pipe d:,ps a ! coal upon that glossy mostaehe, lown I it goes, he damns it, and —you to. There, reader, this descriptioi does not apply to al 1 kinds of bachelos, for there are two kinds. There is i mo ping, dronish, do nothing sort f fel ’ows, who sit at the street corners and while their time away. They have hearts it’s true (about the size of a ten cent piece) and how cold ! it would make an icicle blush to think of its own insignificancy. Titov think of you but their reveries are whether you arc “sound on the slavery question or not." These are the “moral young men”-—“tlie models of the town.” Now, with a piece of advice 111 close, for 1 liavn’t but one more sheet left and am going to save"that to write to some of you. It is this, marry soon and don’t give to too many of the boys the “coup do pied,” for if you do you may have to lead a life of single blessedness yourself If you don’t want a husband say so, but if you do “just squeeze my hand" and ill guarantee you bIuiJJ have one, for, if you can’t get any body else, just consider me in the ring. But I’m one of the first class; but you know that don’t make any difference ; you can have the fuu of reforming me, and when you get old you can tell the neighbors how dissipated the people said! was, and how YOU, all alone, just BY yourself, brought, me to. But don’t let me fool you; there is “many a slip between the cup and the lip,” But still 1 want you to hearken unto the scriptures, “It is not meet for man” (or woman either) “to live alone.” “osjjj of the ii’jioyy.” *** _ Bidwer, the novelist, in a letter to a gentleman in Boston, said “I have closed my career as a writer of fic tion, I am gloomy and unhappy.- I have exhausted the' powers of life, chasing pleasure whore it is hot t 0 be found.” EATONTON, (ifA., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1854. ii. mu Tin; jxhki'ksjikxx uukss. V. M'ever! Wiiat hi it? Id here is no subject within the whole j ra f)ge ol medical science that has been ; Sl) Jl'erplexing; or that has given rise 1° M* many differences of opinion, as 1' vmu 1 . The best thoughts of some of tlty-'Mmost talented men in the prbfes sioiOmve been BosLowed on Fever, but wiJflout resultin '' in anything very sal sfactory either as regards its essen tial nature, or most appropriate treat mf it. ilypocrat.es, who has been styled ■' 1.1 in Father of Medicine,” taught that h \jei“ is not. a disease, but the result, of aiijcifort of nature to throw off or over co|ie disease. This doctrine hits been aid Located by a few others since his d;rv, but the generality of Physicians lulve all along regarded fever as being oife ol the most fatal enemies with hutch the human family have to coli ft« nd. \\ e are firmly of the opinion, l owever, that this is altogether a mis (t.ikcn notion ; for every one knows vv “ 11 that in a]) eases 0 f sickness i/>i whatever nature it may be, there is pore or less fever. If a man receive h severe wound, it is sure to be suc ■ceeded by fever, (provided his life be not destroyed) yet who supposes that the lever is the disease ? Or, who supposes the man would be well, if the fever were instantly removed ? It is evident that the fever is only the con sequence of the injury—only a symp tom which denotes that injury has been done the system. Yet the Phy sician who.regards fever as a disease would say “guard well the fever lest it destroy the patient.” Thus lie in a great degree overlooks the injury, and directs all 1 1 is energies against one of the symptoms which it has produced. This plan of reasoning applies not to injuries only, but also to every disease which affects the human frame. For instance, if the liver, stomach, kidneys or any other organ of the body becomes seriously diseased, lever is sure to fol low ; yet who would regard the fever as being the disease ? It merely shows that the system is diseased, arid that nature is making an effort to restore it to its natural condition. This is evi dent from the fact that when an attack of sickness is not attended by fever, the patient soon dies, and that without remedy ; but when the attack is suc- A-eeded by fever, there is a chance for IrVcovery ; and in proportion to the \tyength of constitution of the patient '.\Vi\ll the fever be. If the patient is ro ’ an( l athletic, the reaction will be poVyerful, and will be accompanied by a hVgh fever; showing conclusively that thclmore life and strength there is, the niorV' .fever there will be. Common kcdsck here involuntarily asks, “Where thenii.i the philosophy of using the laneetVA ealomel and antimony, to re duce Vliy fever, if it is only evidence of the \ presence of powerful reactive energies in the system ?” vV hy not removed the disease, and let the symp tonissulVsido of themselves? It. seems to us that \this would boa little more philosophic',4, and would certainly be preferable to using the poisonous and depletive 1 agents that are generally brought in Vo requisition. That 11 Reader may. comprehend the great 'lffCrenees of opinion that exist on ihi* f-Suhjcct, I submit the fol lowing, whieliV { glean from the stan dard authonliiL () f the old school, or allopathic parti of the profession : 1 !*. ,J dtsoasy L owing to a viscid or- Q'lutU!'. ,, '-> Date \)f tin' blood-■ |foocr iiave, l Fever is causey |,y an impure state of theaii - ; putyiclyg. of which become incorporated with Itbc blood —Syden- Fever is caused V,y a primary inila matiou of the brain-1-01 utterbturn. If is a morbid biAdueLion of lipat- Ur. Currie. \ \ It is caused by vui excess of Elec trici ty —l)r. I’erk iil . No complaint is\sol common or so difficult to be de filled! as- fever —Dr. G ood. \ \ MTior.c is scarcely (|ik\ j joint in this disease on which phyaßMus arc agreed. l)r. S, Smith. fV \ Physicians all alonglM 1 lie present, have been unable to 14A what f.-ver is—Prof. Letbig. 11 \ Fever consists in a Wp;\sm of the solid um vivu m, (livinglibiv).-- Stahl, Hoffman and Cullen. I i Foyer is a sort of RtrnVgip’; between |l)e protective power o fit he system; “UVTJBfOirT MWJBR, JF.f 9 OMI MU JgFFj&CTMOJT” and poisonous or mirhific matters— Hr. Williams. It exists in eight-ninths of all dis eases — Dr. Gregory. 1 It exists in all discajes—Dr. Thom son. (Botanic.) I This, reader, is the sum and 'substance of all that is the allopathic pfift of tlie medical profes sion, concerning fever. While there is so much difference of opinion among the profession concerning the essential nature and tendency of lever, how can there be anything like a philosophic plan of treatment instituted ?i II there are no fixed principles or wdl known facts upon which to base the treatment of fever, how can quackery and Em pyricism be avoided? So much for Allopathy and Her no tions. We now proceed tf> lay before the reader the opinion entertained on this subject by that class ol physicians known as “Botanies;" butjwho chose rather to be known as Physopathists, (Physopafhy. irpm Fliusus, pa/are, and Pathos, affection.) It is probably ne cessary for us-to remark that wo re gard their theory of disease as being altogether more philosophic, and more in accordance with nature’s laws, and with common sense, than that enter tained by Ailopatliisfcs. “What is commonly called fever, is the effect, and not the cause of disease. It is the struggle of nature to throw off disease. The cold causes an obstruc tion, and fever arises to remove it,— This is universally the case. Remove the cause and the effect zcill cco.se —Hr. S. Thomson. When fever prevails, it furnishes evidence of the existence of an offend ing cause in the system, and the treat ment instituted should have for its ob ject the removal of that cause—Dr. Comfort. Fever is an increased action of the heart and arteries to expel from the sys tem irritating and morbific matter. — Prof. Beach. Dr. Wilkinson speaking of a person who had taken the fever from having been exposed to noxious effluvia re marks : “Now we believe the malaria received into the system is the cause of the disease.; The diminution of the living principle the disease, the resist ing action the vis vitae, and the fever, t he heat generated, and owing to a con traction of the pores, is not, passed off sufficiently- rapid, and consequently is retained upon the surface, looks red, feels hot, and produces that peculiar something called fever, which puzzled the brains of the medical faculty for four thousand years.’ The only fact which it is now ne cessary to mention in substantiation of this view of fever, is the unparalleled success in treatment, of those who adopt if. In 1839 Dr. Griffith of Au gusta treated 32 cases of yellow fever, upon this principle, without the loss of a single patient. A Reform practition er of Covington treated, during the Fall and Winter of 1851, seventy-six cas sos Typhus and Typhoid fever with the loss of but two patients. Dur ing the month of September last, (1854) Dr. P. Stotesbury, a Botanic Physi cian, treated in Savannah, 135 cases of yellow fever, with the loss of but seven patients. Dr. Hill, a Botanic, recently treated 33 eases of the same disease, (so called) in Augusta, with the loss of but one patient. The Allopathic per cent loss in the yellow fever at Savannah has been variously estimated at from 30 to 80 per cent. We arc not advised as to tlieir success in Augusta. What we have stated concerning the success of reformers in the treatment, of fever, we derive from tlieir pub lished statistics, which we know arc correct. rump medico. Fatouton, Nov. 6th, 1854. The Grave of Poe. —A correspon dent of the St. Louis .Republican tints relates a narativc which he received from a friend and enthusiastic admirer of Poe— J had read and heard that Poe many times had been in the hospital, on ac count of illness brought on by dissipa tion, and I resolved to go there the. first, and learn exactly where his grave was. 1. found the superintending pliysig eian, a most cordial and pleasant man, ami 1 immediately asked him il he re membered -Edgar A. Poo. “ 0 yes,’ said lie, and his.eye, brightened though his, face grew sad; ami then he told nicy the sad story. After the death of Poe’s lovely- wife; the “Lost Lenore,”, lip character, was changed for the worse, lie became melancholy, al most moon-struck, and then, goaded on by poverty, and sensitiveness, and false pride, lie had recourse to stimu lants lor relief. He became a drunk ard. “Often said the doctor, have 1 followed him late at night, when the streets were desolate, and heard him tulkmopfo the moon and stars, and the Lost Ben ore, in such a strain' of high pathos as made me weep?” A t other times, when the demon of evil had en trapped him, the good doctor word i pick him, all ragged from the gutter, and carry him to the hospital to be cured. There I saw the very bed where Poe lay, his gre,at eyes sunken and lack-lustre, his noble brow pale with woe and pain, his raven hair all matted. There re would toss about for long days, till Nature again tri umphed, and he could rise up, and be ing clothed in his right mind, could take his pen in hand to write for bread. The doctor showed me some of his writings, as neat and smooth as the prettiest Italian hand, each letter form ed exactly, each i dotted, and each t crossed. . AftOr I had seen ai l the relics of the poet, I asked where lie was buried, and 1 was told that his grave was in the Cemetry. So I went- there and asked the keeper where I could find the grave of Edgar A. Poe. He said he did not recollect the name (such is fame.) but he would examine the books. 1 was sure that lie died in December, 1849, but to make sure we looked over the list of interment of 1848, and 1849, and 1850, but Poe’s name was not among them. He was not buried there, 1 then recollected that Poe had once been insane, and confined for a time in the Asylum ; so the next step of my sad pilgrimage was to that establishment. The Superintendent received me most- politely and showed me through the great building. I was told that Poe was one of the most ter rible, uncontrollable patients they had ever laid in the Insane Asylum, and well he might have been. When a mind like his fell, it was like the fall of a Lucifer. 1 told the Superintendent that I was searching for the grave of Poe, but could not find it. lie said I lmd been misinformed. “Come here,’' said be leading me to a window; “Poe, was buried in the corner of that Potter's field!” I could not believe it, and hurried away in painful doubt. But I in the afternoon met an old resident of Baltimore, who assured me that ray in formant was correct.' It is sad to think of it,” said he, and a reproach to my native city, but it is nevertheless true that our poet is buried in an obscure corner of the Potter’s Field. The coffin containing his remains was brought out of the alms house, and placed in the public hearse, and a soli tary carriage completed the funeral ar ray. In silence and sadness the little parly performed the sad offices and the tenement of clay which once enshrined a noble soul was left to moulder with out a mark to point out its resting place. The writer adds: I have read Poe’s life: I knew lie was unfortunate and dissipated, but I little thought that his being buried in Baltimore meant —that he was thrust under the earth in a Potter’s Field. It seems as if, in the “Monumental City," a little slab at least might be raised, inscribed with the poet’s name. It would speak to many hearts. Serious work i.v Kansas—Col lision Between the New Eng land ers and Missourians.— Troubles in Kansas arc taking place in consequence of the New England settlers having unwittingly encroached upon the claims of the Missouri settlers. The latter have gathered-in armed parties, burn ed down t ic log cabins of the New Englanders, demolished tents, and threatened the settlers themselves. — These statements we gather from a let ter in the Miiwaukie Sentinel, dated JjAwreneo, Kansas Territory, Oct. 4. — The same correspondent, writing on the bth, says: “ To day circumstances wear a more serious aspect than heretofore, and I fear the end is not yet. A man named Baldwin has contested, and still con tests, a claim occupied by a port ion of our.citjA notwithstanding the lav ot the U nited States that a claim for farm purposes cannot be held where icquii ed for city purposes. Baldwin has oc cupied a tent upon it, as has also a member of our party, in order to keep possession. Baldwin has arranged iii somemanner with a speculator by the name of Starr, a southerner, claim ing to be from the Indiana, who has laid it out into a city. YY e also, some weeks since, sent'the boundaries of our city, including that portion, to Washington, to secure a pre-emption for city -purposes, and included it in the drawn plan of our city, and are now surveying it. “ This forenoon the workers in camp and vicinity were startled by the re port that the other party were pulling dowii our tent on the premises. There, was an immediate: rgsh to .tlie place, our marshal! in thoAau una'rmcd, fol lowed by another named Bond, with Ia revolver. They met the enemy with !a wagon, in which were, loaded tlm' tent and baggage which it contained, about two rods from the starting point They had two or three rifles, which they presented and thrcaterfM to fire, but Bond caught the horses by the bits, presented his revolver and told them to ‘lire.’ The marshal unloaded the tent, and in the mean time, others coming up, it was restored to its form er place in a hurry. The enemy did not fire, but despatched a boy on horseback in one direction, and a man, on horseback, in another, lor reinforce ments. Whether- from prudential or other reasons, but few of the reinforce ments sent for came. Our party, to the number of twenty or thirty-—all that were in the vicinity of the camp —assembled on the ground, armed to the teeth with rifles, revolvers, and fowling peices; and had the enemy re turned and made an attack there would have been bloody work. They are in Consultation this afternoon, and what the result will he I am unable to say. We shall set a strong guard to night on the disputed claim, also around our camp, as they will lire it. I doubt not, in a moment if they can. “ As I close this letter for the person who will take it to Kansas, Missouri, to mail it, it is reported the enemy are in our vicinity, and our men are hur rying out to protect our right. Two i sets of guards for differnt localities are detailed for the night. A lawyer is draughting an instrument for the formation of a military company of minute men, which will he organized to-night. Everything bc-token war. God grant it may not come! But the passions of desperate men are the most unreasonable tilings in the world. “P. S.—The military company has been formed, and called the Regulating Band, to be armed with a rifle, revolv er, and bowie-knife. About 80 joined of those present. “By a gentleman here yesterday from Fort Leavenworth we learn that it was currently reported there that a grand attack was to be made upon us yesterday by the Missourians, with the intension of exterminating us! and they were very anxious to hear the re sult.” Tjik Devil —lDs Elements. — Where is the devil and what constitu tes the elements of Satan, the great arch fiend/ All opposing influences are but temptations, all whose attentions are diverted by such influence from the rule of right, are constituent in m. - king up the elements of this arch fiend —or the entity of a great principle, to which, if such will adhere, they must feel the penalty of wrong-doing. Man is a creating ot habit, lie must and will have experience, and as there is no other way provided, except to try all things , he works at that. This would be all very well, if lie would remember the remainder of the text, hold fast to that which is good. But as goodly church memuers, we try apart, see a part, we hold a part, and desire a part. Thus we make very good devils , angels and men] filling up the career of our usefulness and abuse- fulness, going to heaven in our own way, denouncing all who do not agree with us as infidels; thus assuming su preme mediurnship, wresting the Scrip tures to our destruction; proclaiming the Bible to be the infallible word, yet only so in the light of our divinity. Selecting a passage here and another there, and thus giving birth to a Meth odist, Baptist, or some other sectarian god, to the overthrow of all others. — Thus it is, that the elements of the ad versary are to be found in every man, woman, and child, and manifested in procrastinating the day of God’s grace, by a selfish and superstitious antagon ism of everyone who docs not agree with them. Let us do away with the formal ; routine of going to heaven in our am biguous, superstitious way as sects, I parties, &c., then wc shall rid our- j selves of this arch fiend, who is every- 1 whore and nowhere, everything and | nothing, for such is the Devil, and such constitutes the elements of Satan. — Aside from this there is no Devil. Kind reader, do you not sec that each and all have .something to do in driving this monster from the land?— "Will you do your part? Deform is indispensable. Heaven is harmony. The world can never be redeemed, un til jargons cease. Then, strife will end, and love fulfil the law of Christ, for such will constitute the redemption. The same is required on the part of Spirits who are suffering the second death. They, too, can never be restor ed without reform; for with such, it constitutes their rCsurfcetion.—L: Bust I.— Chr is la in Spiritualist. The Mails. —The eastern mails again failed to come to hand yesterday. As the South Carolina Railroad Com pany has utterly refused to transport the mails, until the matters at issue be tween them and the Postmaster Gen eral have been satisfactorily, adjusted, we may expect the present disarrange ment to'continue for some time. The mail thus obstructed is onb ot the most important.'in the country, and great business and commercial interests will s be nui.de to sutler seriously l>y this dii iicult.y. The points oi - dilferenco be j TERMS, $2,00 A YEAR. NUMBER 30. tween the department and the compa ny may he br'efly stated. The Post master General requires an aecclera-, tiou of the groat mail. It arrives at Augusta in t!ie evening ami remains until the morning train. llq. claims that under the contract: he hn%a right to direct a change in thf schedule. and to require the.mail to proceed imme diately by a nigl.it train. They deny his right to require them to-run a night train and show that it will create the. necessity of running two trains, and they demand an increased compensa tion, for the increased cost. We quote from recollection, but we believe we are correct in stating that they ask SBOO per mile for the service as requir ed, instead of $287~50, what they now receive. The Postmaster General denies their right, under the contract to additional compensation ; he offers them, ex gratia ,$250 per mile which they have peremptorily declined, and lie peremptorily* refuses to yield any further. The wiiclc question is com plicated by various constructions lof amended contracts, and altered sched ules. and constructions of law, until it is verv difficult to understand what is the right and which is the wrong in the matter. But it is certain v, e think that the railroad company have the right to throve up their contract, al though wc are not quite so sure that they"have the right to refuse to trans port the mails as freight. —Atl IntellL gencer. Oriciix of Newspapers. —l)'lsraeli, in the first volume of “ Curiosities of Literature,” gives a very interesting and minute account of the origin of newspapers with historical facts con cerning their introduction in the vari ous European nations, lie states that we are indebted to the Italians for the idea of newspapers. The first paperJ was a Venetian one, and only a month ly ; but it was merely the newspaper ofthe government. The title of the Gazcdas , was perhaps derived from gazzeva, a magpie, or chatterer, or more probably from a farthing com peculiar to the coin of Venice called gazetta, which was the common price of the newspapers, These early newspapers were not allowed by a jealous govern ment to be circulated in printed form, but the Venice Gazette oontiued long after the invention of printing, to be distributed in manuscript. In a libra ry at Florence are thirty volumes of tiie Venetian gazettas, ‘ all m manu script. Mr. George Ohalmer states that mankind are indebted to the wis dom of Queen Elizabeth? and the pru dence of Burleigh, for the first genu ine newspaper. In the British Muse um arc several rfewspaperfe which were in the English Channel, during the year 1588. Popular zeal against the Spanish Armada was inflamed in these early newspapers. Burleigh, in order to rouse the national feeling, ! published extracts of a letter from Mad | rid which speaks of <i putting the *’ Eng* ; lish Queen to death;? and the instru ment of torture on theSpanisli fleet!— These early copies' of newspapers are in Homan, not black letter. They are entitled .luiglkh MeGcnrfcG Periodi cal papers wore first generally used in ! England during the civil wars at the , period of the Commonwealth. Be Saint Foix, in Ids curious historical es* j says, gives the origin of newspapers in France. 1 fen and ot a physician of Par is, to amuse his patients, was a great collector of news ; and he found by tnese means that lie was more sought after than his more learned brethren. | But as lie had much leisure and was j quite tend of collecting news, he ob {tained a privilege from the>- Govern* j me lit in 1682, to'publish a luminary | ofthe news ofthe various tries, to j distribute among Ids patients.’' It is al* I most needless to add that -I:is patrons | were scon iound in all ranks, and his 1 written sheets were in greater demand ! ti an Ids written prescriptions. Truth. —ls theix i.- oho thing mote than another which ty would teach, it would be a love for truth. All things \yottld bo worthless without that crowning exeeljencedn human charac ter. Without It the noblest stuclure is but a whited sepulchre. With all other qualifications, ,1 a man is to be shunned wlion- deficient in this. .1 he beholder may a fabric of gen eral beauty and svmetry, but when the scum of falsehood ; is found running from cap-stone to b.TBe, he will shun the dangerous presjnee. There are tew things more painful, experienced in our intercourse"' with men, than to feel that they are . unworthy of our confidence—that they ; are not what they seem; .that they will betray while they smile ; that we,.tread up on a crater’s mouth, wherol&lyslun low beneath, feach the clnid re tell the truth;,to venerate and love it-fp Teach him so, that whatever . wroufc lie may commit, lie will frankly and pimply ad.uH i1.a11.. Horn'd li* Udnesl speech. l.u ter was never prouder oi his bdy than when he said he. could not ten a false hood. • - ■ . v Ktlltxu Tine. — -Tii the oldgn time we find that in a battle between tho Turk's and Templars,' a Doj and two Knhjlds were killed. > }