The Lancaster ledger. (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, February 12, 1852, Image 1
DEVOTED TO l|TERARY, COMMERCIAL, AGRICULTURAL, GENERAL AND LOCAL INTELLIGENCE.
W VOLUME I. \ 5 LANCASTER, C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, Till ItSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1852. NUMBER 1. *
pf the i ?'i? - ? J?1 . . ?
U XJ- NCASTER LEDGER
K 18 PI 1U.ISHKD EVERY
P *1 ,1'USD AY MORNING.
yf f H. s. UAILEV,
I 1 DITOR \M? PROPRIETOR.
M T K R M S:
Tw ? Dollars per year, if paid in ad n
vain* Two Dollars mid Fifty Cento, if
paid i i six months ; or Throe Dollars, if
}?ayin< lit is delayed until the end of the
f t your. These terms will l?e rigidly ad- '
U hered to.
Ath 6r:isemonta will be conspicuously
inserte 1 at seventy-five cents per square
of foil teen lines, for the first insertion,
and thirty-seven and a half cento for each
| auhseq tent insertion. A single insertion
'f One ]>ollar. Nothing will be counted
lees than a square.
| Advertisers are requested to stale, in
writing on their advertisements, the number
of times they wish them insetted; or
A tl.ey will be continued in the paper until
' ordered out, and charged accordingly.
-' THE FORRESTER 8 GRAVE
"My heart is sour, Fred, and I am
I' angry with myself that it is so."
"The state of the heart, they say, is
often beyond the dominion of the will,
lletnrieh," replied his friend.
"Aye, i\ye, retorted ileinrich, "but a
man may relinquish his rational mastery
in thb) affair; lie may pamper himself |
with dreams of coming happiness, while I
each da\ wants him of the peril of the i
proceeding; he may cast a kind of stron- j
liutn Mtinsitine round his life, and willfully
shut Ins eves to the fact that i?
strontium. I have done ho; and now i
tliat lli' glare in gone I Had myself, as it
wert1, upon the stage of a theatre an the
day dawns, inspecting by tho grey twilight
the picture* which enchanted mc
lust night, and finding tliciu all dauh and I
t deformity."
? If a frooin in the Wntemuae, Carburg, I
nat two students who earned on the fore- j
going dialogue. It was winter, l?? fbo I
*wUo<nO(1uiiv of^rt^jriKim *M Anderod
genial by the radiation from a blai^k stove
. which reared itself in one curlier to a
heigh*, of six or seven feet. Both studenU
were smoking, and upon the pipe of
each?*-a pipe, by the way, the supplying
I of w)iich in Kngland would lie heavier
upon a uian than the window tax?was a
p??rtl? it ?.r the other.
** C'ulv think of my attempting to male
piietr-, Ir'red !'' pursued Hcinrich.
* *"tflie thing wi?u!d seem ridiculous, perhaps,
uere it not ho very common,n Rn*ww*J
Fred. u Hut people in your Ht?to
havw.1 kind of music awoke within them
which reject* tiio common law of utterance,
The lover ha* a* good a light to
suur>!* the lark?high feelings douiaud
MHwprvwion."
* *1 his inuai" of life would be very delight
id," returned Heiurieh," did it not res |
.pure two to produce it, the will or caprice
of ?r her being able to convert it for the
otbei into a most drrnrv wail. Six
motif ih ago 1 had other melodies to cheer
me. 1 had my work first of all, and, retiring
from thin with the conacioiuucaH i
that 1 had <lone it, I wan receptive of j
4 man; ^ delightful influences. Sun, moon, I
and vttrn were sources of pleasure U? me. '
in the fi.rcHt 1 did not feel lonely; ,
tiiO ??je leaves spoke and sung to me. I
felt 0 St a common life |M>netratcd me nml 1
untnr , and 1 rejoiced in the relationship.
Hut* have forsaken these pleasures U?
1'iitSia an igmia fat mis; I have aban- '
done the chaii^oUwH and true, nnd baaed
injr lappuu** ii|m>ii a maiw of tinted vi
mi Ui. li ia now melted and goiie. I
been ii fool, but :i certain profit may
. u 4 rived even from my folly?the expeshall
be laid to heart, and turned
to some account."
'Fb$ hint sentence vvm uttered by Ilein)
rich Jrtth a bitter energy, an if the iiulivh
deaf' had become dual, and one half was
teti?,; the part of an cxhaapemted schoolmssv-t
toward* the other, Heinrich No.
I/"?l.e of the Mm and the stars and the i
lowland the work, fiouriahed his inerciI
- ilWth< T?f?*M*yer Hejprich No. '2,?him of
tbejpoetn, tall-room, and bright eyea.
The lady?for a lady was tho origin of
it all?who caused Heinrich no much tiwuble,
was Rot one calculated to aubdue a
as an nt a glance, iler lieuuty waa not of
that friuiuiih.'ilit cant which suddenlv fiuu
t-tuAtm? thu WIioKKt. When Ileinrich
rirat u<v hei^alie nppcarod to liiin to be a
gentle, timid Mng?a weak snowdrop,
which idiook ita pale petal* in the slightest
brN^c. lie wnv her again, and imagined
thjf the timidity had subsided a little.?
There was, indeed, an honesty an<t earlegMeaa
alatut lieinrifh himaulf which wu
akniUtod to effect Uiia. lie soofa diacovred,
however, that behind the physical
nahlity reposed a courage which nobody
? Hild have eakulated on, and of which
[ seemed perfectly unOonaci*
s? lleiirich w? somewhat of a psychoI
and thia discovery interested him.
I?j ? wtrhed her?her actions were the nai
ral ontflow of her spirit*, untinctured by
' >e aighteat effort at ion. iMnrieh had a
1 : -tini that he could distinguish mere anitV
- i aal Wauty from that which, permeating
Ijfc,. the etaintename from within fanes tfcafca*
urea jnu> thought and nsuaio; and heoht
rred + iMNfc.a depth of radiance ia
.W ? /** wWak lad him to speculate on
v auiity awd l?nghti.t*rt of theawil fton
m mdhnc^' emanated. 91m was
_
, h.v viu^ gin i^iuu' u?inrwn mtH6 course
{ of his lifo had bought that he could have
durod to mara. lie felt that she was
worthy of his We, and he took no pains
to cheek the gbwth of the seedling plant*
ed by this con lot ion. The utmost, however,
he could lather from his intercourse
with her was, fiat she did not hate him.
This was the wrdiet of his calmer and
truer hours; tyt, naturally enough, he
permitted the {elusion to creep in, that
she evinced a ]?rtiality towards him.?
This he droad?l to forfeit. Alexander,
i with a world tdgain, was braver than
Alexander witlta world to lose. This
tiiought destroy el the spontaneity of Ileinricli's
action; lit was anxious to please,
fearful lest he sliiuld displease ; and, thus
fettered, he lost lie power and independence
which wouti have most effectually
charmed the girl lie loved.
?it? a_ i -
I'd uigm. pniiiuus u> itm conversation
with Fred, Heinrlh attended the periodical
meeting of t)e Soiintags-geaellHchaft.
Three or lour of the highest families of
Carburg, a few ff the professors of the
university, and a number of the older students,
formed the core of this society, each i
member of whick could invite as many
guests as ho pleoicd. On Sunday evenings,
once a fortnight, the society came
together. Plays, charades, and (lancing
tilbd up the time until twelve o'clock, at
which hour the meeting usually separated.
On the night in question, the lady above
described, whom we shall hereafter call ?
Helen','' was also present. Ueinrich dkl i
not pay her his usual attention on this oc- i
casion, for a douU had insinuated itself i
into his mind as to whether it was agreoa- l
ble to her. Before supper, however, ho i
summoned resolution to ask her if she ]
would permit him to lead her to the table, i
She replied that she was engaged, and he <
retired nr"?v-irrlm.?Wf 'CI...?. ?? ?*L'?
t . nun mailing i
now in the fact of a lady's being engaged,
the circiumtanee had occurred to nitu a t
hundred times before, but he accepted it i
as an evil omen in his present state of |
mind. He saw Helen led to the table by i
Herr Crick, a gentleman whom Tennyson i
might havchndin his eye when he penned
the " Character." Heinrich was one of 1
the few who had pierced the enamel which 1
surrounded this person, and found an intriguer
within; and, though he had strong t
faith in the capacity of the maiden to dis- i
tinguish true from false, he nevertheless l
would have rather seen her in any other i
company than that of Herr Crick.
Hancing was resumed after supper. At
--r^in period of L. TP'falL
of little knots or rtubon, having various devices,
was placed in the middle of the
room. The ladiea were led in turn to the
basket; each chose a knot and presented
it to soinc one of the gentlemen standing
round, who took the ?'giver's hand and
danced with her round the room. Those
little knots were often messengers of pleasure
and of hope?sometimes the contrary.
Helen was led to the basket, she chose a
knot, and approaching the portion of the
ring where Heinrich stood, gave it?to
Herr Crick who stood at his side.
Up to this moment the image of the
maiden had lain like a bright daguerreotype
upon his brain. A canker now attacked
it, and the bliss of contemplating
it was no mora. He had aenso enough to
know that this was a subjective phenomenon,
that the maiden had not changed,
1,1.1 Kn/I ? *
..... ...... mvivij icicmni iu mm uie peril
of the dream in which he had indulged.
There was a steadiness and decision about
iier action which banished the thought
that it w as the result of levity. " She is
right," lie thought. 441 have t>een a fool
and a coxeoiub, ami now tlie {>enalty has
come." A stroke of calamity is often accompanied
by psychological results the reverse
of those which might be anticipated.
It was so in the present case. Iletnrich
mingled with his companions, none know
the nature of the change that had suddenly
came upon him, and it surprised even
himself. He did not quiver; he was as
rigid as a rock. His brain became clear
and his glance concentrated. lie felt a
sudden accession of intellectual power, ,
eiiuMiug him as it were to crush in an instant
problems which under ordinary cir- 1
cunwtances, he might have nibbled at for
months. Nor was it in tlie energy of dea- (
pair which thus took possession of him; <
lie never once contemplated the thought
of suicide. He eo*?frrk??te?l ? >? * "
petition valiantly, and the swelling of hia :
heart seemed only to exalt kirn into dear- ,
er day.
On the evening of die next day, Ileinrieh
and hia friend Fred sat together in
the room of the former, and carried on the
dialogue with which we have introduced
our narrative.
w 1 do not blame her," continued llein- <
rich, " and when I nae the term \gni* fatuus
I don't mean to apply it to her. The
thing waa iny own creation aolely. I collected
her worda and looka and tinged i
them with my own hopes, like a fellow
who sets out with a theory, and then
hunt" tor facts to support it,instead of first <
waiting humbly for the feet, and pladng
it at the f >undation. I hare had my theory?bright
and beautifel enough, but
now in ruins. Sfe, however, may banish
uneasiness from her mind; 1 shall see her
again, and shew her that her bints hare
been accepted. Heim Himmell, she has
ao spaniel at her feet! Fred, my dear
*11 I bl _ I . t
u-iiuw, umi un gous um i ?m a worker;
thie foci ? raj solace ?t present; my
work is my medicine; on Urn fulcrum I
know diet I cm) pbiee myself, end after
a Hale time, took oat anor more upon the
world uhchagrtand and setf poosesood.
A fortnight's struggle set Herarich again
in equilibrium. At the end at e fortnight
he stood ooee More tn the ttdhfaga greal
IsohafL and trad the ioer of the belWrootn
with the aasomnee of i man trim foots
that ha hast aobdaad a dfobaa foe, Helen
was tbete, and to w* Qm Crick, and >
bo *u Fred. There is a mystic transmission
of intelligence between minds, aud
this without n word indicated to Helen
that a change had come over Heinrich.
He neither sought her nor avoided her;
he spoke to her kindly, almost affectionately;
in fact, in this respect he went further
than he would have ventured in his
days of thraldom. He did it without
second thought, without ulterior object,
and, therefore, with dignity and freedom.
Herr Crick joined them once while they
conversed together; after a little time
Heinrich walked away and left Helen and
him to continue the conversation.
The maiden was not prepared for this
exhibition of character on the part of
Heinrich. It was a new quality to her,
but one between which and her own moral
constitution there was the strongest
affinity. A kind of spiritual gravitation
operated between both, which threatened
more and more the orbit in.which her life
had hitherto revol ved, and finally changed
that orbit. As the earth folds the nun>u
in its everlasting embrace, and bends her
from her forward course without an effort,
so this strong man laid hold with silent
lorce upon the maiden's feelings, and held
them by an irresistible attraction.
lleinrich liad long speculated upon going
to America, and the time drew near
when the speculation was to Ik- converted
into fact. The summer had dawned, periodical
land parties were formed, and excursions
made through the forest, lleinrich
and Helen often met on such occasions.
The maiden grew paler as the
time of his leaving drew near. Fred remarked
this, but lleinrich did not. About
a week tafore his departure a party was
projected to tlie Glasskopf. It was Whitsuntide,
and the sun Wet nod radiant all
day. The party met in Fefer's garden,
and walked thence to the rim of the for. >t.
Here, under the primeval beeches, the
table-cloths wore spread, fowls wore dissected,
sausages were sliced,and maitrank
poured out bounteously. After the repast
little coteries dived into the forest. " jieijirich
and Fred strolled oil' alone, and remained
away until the sound of a distant
horn at sunset warfteththem that the party
was collecting for home. They turn* i
... V..V UIIO.UUU OI mo ROUIM. A Io.:g
summer's day had just ended, and the
sun teemed his lastbeaker of golden light
from the crown of the Frauenburg. Th?
souls of both were inter]K>netrated with
the beauty and repose of the acetic around
thorn. In this jnood they opened the
wicket of a Uul^jburial'io'ound which lav
athwart their path, and J^lncn contain
one gr?*ea grave. At tno head of t;?
grave rose a pillar with rough rock frag
ments clumped around ijs hnsc; at tin
foot sprung three tall pines which spro id
their sombre branches, like hearse plun o ,
over the dead. The grave was that of a ?
ancient forresstcr who liad taken up h
final lodging amid the scenes which hi -t
delighted him. As the friends enter*!, a
lady, who appeared to have been reading
the epitaph, retreated towards r. g. te athe
opposite side of the enclosure bo'.h
knew that it was Helen.
44 Fruulein!" exclaimed Fred, impulsively,
44 you are surely not afraid of us."
The maiden stop|x*d and turned; the
friends advanced towards her; to Heinrich
she appeared the same trembling
snowdrop as when he first l?held her.
44 It is a fitting place to say good-bye,"
said Fred. "You will hardly have an
opportudity of seeing each other again ?
would that I could have witnessed your
union, instead of a separation !'4
44 Fred 1" exclaimed lleinrieh, "don't
talk so; old memories, though subdued,
are not killed."
" What are the memories 1" demanded
Fred.
44 Shall I tell him P a?ked lleinrieh,
turning laughing to Helen.
Alow 44 yes" was the maiden's reply.
" Well, tiolon," said he, taking her
hand, what he wants me to confess is this*,
that I once loved you ; Unit for your sake
1 have struggled against that love and
subdued it, aud that I now stand before
...UV. .U. I . ' ' *
jwi uic u<*?rv 01 a oroiner, ami pray
God to blees you."
A kind of sympathetic motion stirred
the maiden's lips, ami she murmured
"God blew you !
44 Nay, Ueinrich ! nay, Helen ! not no,',
exclaimed Fred. "This infernal del union
inuat not blind you. I>o not contravene
the manifest design of Heaven who made
you for cacti other. Go together in the
name of God i"
A deadlier paleness overspread the
maiden's cheek. The nun had sunk, ami
the west glowed like the gates of heaven,
beside which, half lost amid the atnt>er,
one bright star stood sentinel. A million
thoughts rushed simultiim'ously upon the
brain of Heinricb, and the long-quelled
fewer of his heart now lose swelling to his
lipa. * Fred," he muttered in a condensed
whisper, as if uncouscious of the maiden's
presence, " do you think she would
toner
44 Will you go, Helen r asked Fred.
44 Come, my girl, let me answer for you?
you will r
441 will," replied the maiden.
The arms of a man were around her in
an instant, and the heart of a man throbbed
against her lily cheek. He kissed it
till its rosea kindled, ami?the furies
danced more joyously that night round
the grave of the old forreater.
ILuruUni I satin-.
Wat to Wm a Hiwiikd.?If your
iwm DMIt nappcnu to 0?n AtX)Ut 4Mlp|HT
time, down Into the kitcecn and take
motion chop?hfoil it nWly ornr n rad
fire, And Ml ft Mbc* him, with pickle* and
jog ?4 good aln. Whiaper aoftlv in hi*
hearing the wotda, " I did it." Yott will
i?d Uua a my likely waf indeed to win
turn.
uatn.
Lookiuj; ?. it t-iacv*
I ?
! "Well, Johnny. have yon succeeded to:
day, my son ?"
" Nothing good to-day, mother. 1
have been all over town almost, and no I
one would take me. The book stores and |
dry glials stores and groewtcs have |
i >y ot U?ys already?tint I think if you
had lievii with me, I should have stood a
better chance."
"Oil, you look so thin and pale, niotlier,
somebody would have l'|*itsorry, and
so taken nic?hut nobody knew me, and j
nobody saw you."
A tear stoic down the cheek of tie- lit- '
tie hoy, a-> he .-poke, for he pais almost j
discourage,1, and when his mother saw j
, the tear, not a few an down hers also.
It was a cohl bleak night, and Johnny
had Imtii out all day l?M_>i.ffij^ for "a
place." 11-had persevered, although constall*.ly
r-ui-ed, until it was quite dark,
and tin n give lip, thinking diat his mother
iiiu.-i he tired waiting tor him.
lli> mother was a widow, and a verv '
poor one. She had inaiutaiued herself
l?y needle \v..rk till a severe spell of siekness
had .-oiiiiiied her to her bed, and she
w.ts mi to ! ? more.
Sin1 i-tii I her lit tie son to sit ilnwii l?y I
.in-tiro while sin* prepared his supper.?
Tin* lire ami tin* stippov were wry Heanty,
! I tin .loiniii knew tln*\ wi'iv the hest she
eoulil pro tie, :in*I In* t'"it that hit \\<>ul<l
rather share mi-1i a tin* ami uueli a supper
with eue'i a mother, than sit at tli?*
nest title i laioo With any hiAly else, who
ti<l not lt>vi' him as miimVii) ami whom In*
mi it- it low a> In* ili'l her..
After a Tow momentsol" silonee, tin'hoy, ;
.ookiiig tip in;" his mother's faee with
more than n* n:?| serioitsni's.s, sai l,
" Mother," sait! In', "ilo you think it
w* *11 i? I I us wromf to ask my now Sunday
h lead ti a. in r .limnt it on > Sabhalht"
'* No, my miii, pot it'you have no other
!'|i|K<ruutny ami I think ho wouj.l he a
v. ly sait .hi [e win, to<i", at least i think
he wpu,'l I < interested in getting you a
O.MS.1 pl.t, v."
" \\ e| , t"-m irww is Simlay, el,when
the e!i?> l'ie il;-. tip, Ih.'lie.o I will ask
him."
Arter i>' i'liiijj a portion of < toil's holy :
wor>i; the mother ami her little hoy !
Kneeled do a n together in their Ion *iiness
ami praye'l the l^?rU nio-t Piirnostly to
take care '-J them. l iiey weue wry poor,
hut liny knew tliat ti.nl eare?l for the 1
p'H?r. Tiiey knew also that U.k.1 wouhl
!'i W. at ,v.t i e i , 1. ili, ii'.i II
L . ttV. I s. ? i i ' * tiV lii i?i |
Minvtvl v, "*T.i\ \v 11 Is* done."
"1 fe : h ippi. r iioW," sai l John. " I ,
1 was so tir.'.l when ! eanie in that I 1'elt i
.mite .-w.vs ! L* i * i 1 1 1
, , . . tR|-~*IIU I i<H>K SO, '
in->1 !i.?rt"
The inot!ic-r'i? heart was full, and Mm I
give ii -r l?oy one long, .dt<--ti.-nato kiss,
which was nwv-.-ii-r la liim than many
words.
N? m morning wan the Sal-lath. John's
ruik -t w.i 111 -re a-Miity tlipi over, but
In- si.-l iMl a word about tha^ for In- saw
tliat iii- Mi'-tiu r at<- vrry i tt'i of it. lint
oiu? or lw t>sticks of wixhI w n'JoA outside tin-door
win-re ii wa- k-pt t-n-l lieknow 1
that ?>il) : >o.| and tii- might nil la* ootid
i In-fore night. They h id !i money to ituv ,
any with t->r several days.
The Sabbath scic-ol II mug. The I
sun w.is shiiiiitg I.right au.!< l?ar, but the I
air was c\c --ding i-old. Tin-child had
no overco-it, and w.e> .--till ih-jring a pari
of his -milliner clothing. Hi was in his I
s??it just as Ids siipcrhtw ndtnt and hi* j
teacher entered.
" Who is that little pal-- faced hoy in ,
your ci i-s asked the suiH-tiuteudcfit of
the teacher.
"li s name is Jones?lie l'r\e> in Stone '
streel, and I must visit liim tiiis very
week. 11.- is a wvll-beliav?-<J hoy."
"L should !<ke to know ii. k"e about him, '
and I will see him after selid-l."
The sujierintendent did i>t forget him, i
and when the class broke up, seeing hint
linger In-hind the other scholar*, went up 1
and t<>ok liim by tlie hand kindly.
"You have been hen- to ichool several j
Sabbaths, hive you not my I my 1"
" Yes, sir, 1 came just a month ago, to- :
day."
| "il.nl v<?u ever been to whool l>cfore
that time ("
44 Vc<, sir, before mother was taken nick,
, I used to go to strett school, but
j that was a great way off, n|tJ when mo
ther go! better ion I you <>Hii?d this new
school, she advised ine to cyinc here as it
is so much nearer."
44 Well, did I not sec you yesterday looking
for a piaeo in Wnter-stnet ?"
*1 was down there, sir, looking for a
place."
44 Why did you not take that plnee
which the gentleman had fl.-r you in the
: lurge grocery store?"
\ 44 l>o you mean the store where tho
, great copper worm Stood on tho sidewalk
r
' 44 Yes."
sir, I didn't know they sold mm
there when I first went in, and when I :
saw what kind of a store it was, I waa ;
afraid."
44 Have yon a father I*
44 No, air; father ia dead," *nid tho lita.1
% % * - fc 4 4
u** nny, nangmir <1Avn Im head.
44 \Vhnt ?ii?l ><*? fathw *lo, my son?
what we* hia business f
44 Sir, he once kept a lar^f store lik?'
that," and the child shuddered when he j
answered.
44 Why did you not keep the nieeo of |
jfohl money that yon found ,?n tho floor j
1 m jmt whs coming into tho store t"
44 Recww It WNanot mrm*. ami I thought
! tiiat the gentleman would find tho owner 1
1 sooner than I should." I
44 lie did my l*>y?it was i,?y money. j
Did you not get- a |4aco yoate/day f*
"No, sir, ?11 the places were full, and |
nobody knew me,"
" Well, my l>oy, you inay go now, and '
tell your mother that you have a place.
Come to me very early in the morning?
your teacher will tell you wlieTe I live.
Johnny went home with his heart and
his eyes so full that he could hardly see
the street or anythipg else as he went
along, lie knew that it would cheer his
dear mother very much, and so it did.?
I lis superintendent procured a good place
for him, and they were made comfortable
and happy.
Stircljy this story carries its own moral.
Timid People.
When the King of Tahiti, Pomare the
Second, first began to doubt the {>ower of
bis wooden gods, lie made a very bold experiment.
It was the custom, when the
Tak'tiatis caught a turtle, to send it to the
king, to be dressed with sacred fire for his
table?it was accounted a sacred animal.
the occasion to which we allude a turtle
was sent, and when the servants were
taking it to the idol's temple, the king
called them back, and commanded them
to cook it in his own oven; they were astonished,
but obeyed. When the food was
presented to his savage majesty, they exIwscte*
1 every moment that he would fall
into convulsions or drop down dead. He
invited his attendant* to taste the food,but
they all refused. They were looking for
judgment on the king's person, and as it
did not come that day, they looked for it
"ii the morrow; but, as no judgment came,
this one net of majesty became the crisis of
a nation and a national religion. The gods
\v? re soon after treated as mere logs of
Wood. . '
Now, was this a courageous act or was
it lot.' Very courageous, sonic will say.
It seems courageous, liko many other ac- 1
tion.-, when you look at one side of it only;
hut if you look on another sido, it assumes 1
a timid character, like many other hold 1
and daring deeds. The missionaries had
succeeded in frightening l'omarc with
Hades, and its atmosphere of liquid fire?
" black lire and horror," as Milton calls it
?and they had poured into his mind all
the |M>pular doctrine respecting that future
place of tearful retribution. They had
caused him to suspect that there was a
greater spirit than his god Oro, and that
it would be for his interest to currv favor
wiili the greater j>ower. In a state of serious
mental doubt and anxiety he made
the alwve experiment.
1> it o l?-?|d one, now I. Was it courage
or timidity ttiat iiuluo?4 Vomarw to cook
tiiu turtle in his own oven, and eat it, without
sending the first morsel, or even a morsel
at all, to the idol i i
It was just as much the one as the other, i
It was a judicious action?it was the aim- <
jile act of a thinker and a reasoncr. Po- i
mare was studying ft subject, and he took <
what seemed to him the most direct and i
conclusive mode of coining to a solution; 1
hut he would not, probably, have found the <
courage to test the jower of the idol if he 1
had not previously been impressed with a '
great fear of a higher power. It was fear, 1
then, that gave him courage! Fear give
a luau courage! Yes, fear is actually the 1
source of courage; and where no fear is,
courage is wanting.
This seems like a paradox, but it is not
one. We do not ?:y that the fear that
gives courage is excessive; far from it, for
then courage is overwhelmed; we merely
say that a little fear or sense of danger is
necessary to stimulate the courage.?
\V hen we encounter danger without any
sense of fear, our conduct is called reckIcasness;
this is lower in rank than courage,
merely because it wants that little
]Kirtiou of fear which is the immediate
source of prudence in all adventurous ?e
tion?.
Timidity is one of the constituents of
prudence. Every wine man in timid; nay,
lie has a large amount of timidity in hi*
character. Every good man mast fear
evil; he mast fear public opinion; he
muat fear conscience, These are all asp<rts
of that holy fear, which is the beginning
of wisdom. It is, therefore, but
an evil principle of action, though generally
understood in an evil sense.
The reason why it is understood in an
evil sense is, that it is merely one extreme
of character without the other?the other
extreme is quite as bad. That other extreme,
however, is not courage; for, as
we have already seen, courage has a mixture
of fear within it But the other extrctno
is mere recklessness; which is ?ar
more foolish than timidity, and holds as
low a place iu the scala-of character. The
l>est principles are not simnlo but compound
principles, made up of two or more
extremes or opposite*.
Timidity, as we have already seen, may
prompt a man to do a bold action. A
timid man will run into a wolf's den to
escape tho jaws of a crocodile?a brooding
hcu will attack even a dog?and a mother
will leap into the deep water to save
a drowning child. The fear of a greater
evil supplies the resolution to encounter a
less, l'hcso bold actions, however, are
not considered courageous. Courage resists
the greater evil; it attacks the crocodile
with so much fear and caution m are
indispensable to render the attack judicious
and successful. In the case of the
brooding hen and the mother there ie only
one evil to encounter?that is, the dog in
the one case, and the water ia the other;
but there are two fears, the fear of km of
offspring, and the fear of self-danger. The
excess of one fear destroys the other, and a
iteming courage is the result But it
nnaw hiq win i??| uw cwmoi 01 courngft.
The mother i* violently excited,
nnd Wing entirely her presence of mind,
regard We and thoughtlem of a3 jwBalooa
moans of accomplishing her end, the leap*
, directly into the water, and perishes, per*
haps, along with her child. Perhaps she i
is saved by another person, and then she '
falls into tits and remains for hours or I
days in a state of helplessness. The hen ]
is similarly excited ; after she has put the j
dog to night, she experiences a severe
convulsive fit of cackling which it is out < f
her power to stop, ller courage is a vio- ,
lent excitement. It is based upon fear;
unlike that of the game cock, which is
based upon pure love of French glory, and
in many respects so destitute of fear, as i
scarcely to be entitled to the name of cour- j
age. There is perhaps a fear in the game .
cock that we are not acquainted with?a |
fear of defeat and loss of character; for
these animuls are greatly disconcerted,
humbled, and mortified when they lose the
ascendency. They become sneaks, and
lose their pride and stately demeanor. We
know that the fear of loss of honor will !
make a soldier engage in most advontnr-1
ous actions; to redeem a character that
has been lost he will seek the position of
the greatest danger, and will courageously j
face an unequal foe, whom he would gladly
flee from, hut dam not, because of the |
dishonor that accompanies flight. How
much courage is owing to this fear of j
shame we know not; but we adduce the
fact for the purpose of illustrating a great
truth?that the fear of one evil gives courage
to encounter another that we sliouhl
otherwise fly from.
This accounts in n very simple manner
for the extraordinary courage exhibited at
times by timid people.
When timidity is excessive it becomes a
disease, and destroys all decision of character.
It is always nsking what people will i
say or what people will think; and this
fear makes its possessor auspicious and un- I
decided what to do. Of two or more
modes of action it hesitates which to adopt, |
afraid, even when convinced, that it has |
chosen the worst. It thus loses its j
presence of mind and its unity of purpose.
Courage is decided. It adopts a system i
definitely and pursues it.
A man may l?e timid in a physical sense, |
and courageous in a moral sense ; he may i
he timid in a social point of view, and yet i
bold as a thinker. Modesty is a timid hiding,
and yet it is an attribute that is said j
to belong to genius. Genius is bold and !
courageous in the field of imagination and |
invention, but sometimes physically timid !
in the personol presence of man. It is ori- j
ginal m its thoughts, and not to l>o sub- I
duod or overborne l>v HUthority in its own
peculiar sphere. Even when it suffers it-|
self to he bound in allegiance to a party, it !
discovers its originality and its couri/re in '
tho mode of rendering its service.-? with ;
the humble and almost crayen-lik1' fear of
otfending what it esteems a legitimate and
a sacred power, it yet fearlessly dares to
serve that power in a manner unprecc- j
dented. It can kiss tlie toe of the pone,
?nd spit upon the king. It can licit the 1
dust liefore the throne of a temporal sovc- j
reign, and laugh to scorn the spiritual pre- i
tensions of a sovereign pontiff. It can >
defy creeds and customs, traditions and
current opinions, in private society, yet fear
to pronounce in a positive and intelligible
manner before the tribunal of the public.
Few men are possessed of all the aspects of i
courage. A man sd possessed would probnbly
be a most unamiable and offensive |
member of society. He would Is* too bold,
too regardless of other men's feelings and
principles, too intrusive and obtrusive, too ,
independent of time and nWe of o?oo-;..?.
f , -, ? J..,.J.. .. v, ,
fashion and etiquette. In fine, he won!'!
not be possessed of the attributes of a gcntleman,
who, being the beau ideal of a
man, must be possessed in harmonious proportion,
of all the attributes of humanity,
amongst which an amiable timidity of
character?that is, a fear of obtrusion, a
fear of saying or doing offensive things?
holds a most distinguished place.
Even excessive timidity will frequently
be found in bold and original thinkers, so
as to present a striking and paradoxical
contrast of character. Every man's character
has two aspects?a physical and a
moral, a public and a private, a political
and ecclesiastical; and the greater cultivation
of the one than the other produce
a disparity that puzzles the physiologist to
determine to what peculiar category the
individual belong. A clergyman who is
quite at his ease in the pulpit, is ncrvou*
and fearful when called upon to address
his feHow-guests at a public dinner. He
has habituated his mind into fhinilnrity |
with the one sphere, but not with the other.
A soldier who has courage to meet an
enemy sword in hand at the peril of his
life, would perhaps break down with nervous
apprehension if he attempted to giv??
utterance to complimentary sentence to a
lady, or tremble with fear on entering a
drawing-room filled with strangers. No
man would call the soldier a cow ard, and
yet this fear of society is nothing more than
moral cowardice. What makes him bold
in the field of battle ? He Wlicvcs himself
equal to the struggle that he undertakes.
What makes him timid in the
drawing-room f He believes himself unequal
to the contest of refinement. In the
rude sphere he is strong, in the refined
sphere he is weak.
Such one-sided men are not
in the full sense of the word. They are
timid people. They lone their presence of
mind in positions to which they are not
accustomed. They have eournga to
meet every emergency, nor talent to en
vwwii uiukuivj. Aiiey are iiae ?
shoemaker, who modestly and timorously
tistena to the discourse of a literary society,
until the ootiTWvation turn* upon leather,
then he courageously opens his month.?
They an net unwise people, for they wish
to be qualified for what they undertake to
perform. They may ba persons of original
minds, of genius itself, but they are
timid people in the t?ociai sense of the word.
Hmtdity la generally esteemed a defect,
and ith A defoot, because it exprcsma
weakness. But it is so frequently confounded
with modesty, prudence, and caution,
that "timid people" are not so very
low in reputation or respectability as cowards
are. Timid people constitute a very
large portion of the members of every society.
It is, perhaps, the very largest class
of human beings. NVc are not sure that it
does not include all men, women and children.
Every one is considered timid by
some one else, or really is timid in some '
sphere or other. There may be a few individual
exceptions' only sufficient to demonstrate
the truth of the rule. If Svdnev
r-Mmtli may be credited, Lord John llusscfl
is one <>f those exceptions. The jolly (Janaii
of St. 1 'aul's maintained that Lord John
had courage to undertake anything, even
the command of the British army, or of the
British fleet in tin-Channel, in case of an
invasion. But we liavo no doubt that
those who know his lordship more inti*
! mutely?his wife, and his valet, for example?could
specify many departments of
human activity in which his courage would
fail him.
For our own part, wc arc not disposed
to say one word of evil against timid people.
We like them. They arc the innocents
of society. They inspire with courage
the rest of mankind. Timidity in women
gives gallantry and confidence to man.
Fear is the source of good manners. Timid
! boys will not run bodkins into each other's
! thighs, merely for a lark, and to have a
' laugh at the attitude of excitement, nor
cfiinh over I'a lace Garden walls, and hide
j themselves under staircases, merely to ob
I cum a peep at tiio t^ueen in passing. Such
j monkeys tire rarities in society, and long
! may they he so. (live us rather the modest
and humhlc fear of doing what is wrong,
that fear of reproach, that fear of degradation
that prompts a man to obey the law
of m-titude with scrupulous precision. To
he ton i jrur it sans rejtrochc?that is,
" without fear and without reproach," as
has been affirmed a thousand times over of
the Iron I Mike?is only a merit in a qualified
sense of the word fear, and that sense
by far the lowest. Physical courage is
possessed by the bull-dog and the game,
cock, as well as by man. Moral courage
is not. But moral courage is invariably
accompanied with a goodly amount of
moral fear. The man \vho is without this
moral fear is a rogue, a sensualist, a debaudiee,
a base and unprincipled wretch,
who is indifferent alikeJto praise or blame?
he cannot be* possessed of the elements of
heroism.
Tub Kki.ioion of Payinu Debts.?
* 'ik t our relitr,,,|? oxchn,,?^ ',as
following so-aig remark*??fi this subject.
They drive the nail in to ithc head and
clinch it:?
"Men may sophisticate as they please;
they can never make it right, and all the
bankrupt laws in the univcreo cannot
make it right, fur them not to pay their
debts- Ti...ro i :? ?-r "
mil 111 uus neglect, as
clear, and as deserving church discipline,
as in stealing or false swearing. He who
violates his promise to pay, or withholds
the payment of a debt when it is in his
power to meet his engagement, ought to
lie made to feel that in the sight of all
honest men he is a swindler. Religion
may l>e a very comfortable cloak under
which to hide; but if religion does not
make a man 'deal justly,' it is not worth
having."
Tim Secret of Lonoevitt. ? The
1 means known, so far, of promoting long|
evitv, have usually concentrated in short,
pithy sayings?as "keep your head cool,
and your feet warm"?"Work much, and
0 it little," dre., just as if the whole science
of human life could be summed up and
1 brought out in a few words, while it* great.
: principles were kept out of sight. One of*
the last of these sayings is given by an
Italian in his hundred and sixteenth year,
' who, being asked the reason of his living
| so long, replied with that improvisation
1 for which his country is remarkable:?
When hungry, of the beat I eat,
dial dry and warm I keep my feet;
I I ? 1' ? %
I ? odcoii y mum iroin sun ?n<i rain,
A ml let few cares perplex my brain.
i Tlie following is about the beet theory of
tlio matter:?Every man inborn with a
! certain stock of vitality, which cannot bo
i increased, but may be husbanded. "With
this stock he may live fast or alow?may
live extensively or intensively?may draw
his little amount of life over a large space,
or narrow it into a contracted one; but
when this stock is exhausted he has no
1 more. He who lives extensively, drinks
j pure water, avoids all inflammatory dis\
eases, exercises suiBcieuUy but >.ot laboriously,
indulges no exhausting passions,
feeds on no exciting material,' pursues no
debilitating pleasures, avoids all laborious
and protracted study, preserve* an easy
nnnd, and thus husbands his quantum of
vitality?will live considerably longer than
lie otherwise would do, because he lives
slow ; while he, on the other hand, who j
lives intensively, who beverages himself on
liquors and wmes, exposes himself to inflammatory
diseases or causes that produce
them, labors beyond his strength,
visits exciting scenes and indulges exhausting
passions, ami lives on stimulating and
highly'seasoned food, is always debilitated
by his pleasures.
Creohot*. ? Persons cannot be too
cautious how they Use this dangerous liquid.
The William*port (Md.) Sentinel
gives the follow ing aocountof a recent case
in that town: "ft gentleman purchased
? ! ! ? ihi.li' of aiia (tf itnUHrid* ""?
applying a portion to the tooth, ho rubbed
a small Quantity on tho iruma and oheek
of one aide of hi* faoe. Shortly after, tho
muaolea on that aide commou< .Ni to cootract,
and refuacd to aloae. Mora that
*eek etapael/y* tba diafigurat* wit'inuM*