Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 05, 1856, Image 1
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i rSi in Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests.of the South. Iiewisk. qbist, pumuher. *
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VOL! 2 YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 5, 1856. 3STO. S3.
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. i Cljoice |1odri). ?
i THE HUSBAND'S APPEAL. a
In my memory there dwelleth forms ana faces ^
" moat divine,
Which in boyhood's days I cherished, thinking I t
shonld make them mine: a
Faces only seen in slumbers, or in fancy's golden g
dreams,
Or on stained oriel windows, when the sunlight '
- . through them gleams? p
Faces such as Raphael painted; suoh as poets love v
; to weave ,
In their sweetest, best creations, over which we 11
joy or grieve; d
But of all these lovely pictures, there is nome that n
villi oompare c
With the living, mortal woman, who is good as tl
she is fair: ?
Lowly minded, pure and earuest, serving God with .
all her heart, 11
And, like Mary of the Scripture, choosing well v
the better part. f
She it is who 9its beside me?she who, trusting,
- -gave her hand, r'
With the promise that together we would journey s
1 through the land. j r,
I have walked with haughty damsels, walked with 11
maids of low degree; Si
Spoken words of praise to beauty, and to goodness
bowed the knee.
Felt my heart grow warm from glances cast by a
softest eyes of blue, I
Felt my heart grow strong and earnest cheered r(
by eyes of darker hue:
Hoped and struggled?toiled and suffered for some w
paltry gain in life, a
But in nothing found contentment till I found my d
blessed wife.
Wife! the world is full of beauty?full of purity ei
and truth? T
Whether cow 'tis present with us?whether still a ,
dream of youth,
Unfulfilled?a hope?a something which may nev- s<
- er come to pass ; Tl
Or, a memory sweet, though faded, like the old
year 8 taaeu grass.
Wife! it speaks of borne?of children?joys too 11
sweet to be revealed . rc
One to love?to cherish?pray for, and from every _
grief trt shield.
You, who have a wife to love you with a love
' that's unsurpassed.
Treasure it as something precious, for you know 01
not if 'twill last. tl
Death may come within your dwelling, chase the 0j
sunlight from each room,
Turn the blazing hearth to ashes?fill your onward ai
path with gloom, ' S
Pray, then, that no word be spoken to her which c(
you may regret, ,
When the golden howl is broken?when the light
of home is set. fcw
If you carelessly have uttered words that bore a ?*
bitter sting, c<:
Ask yourself these simple questions, Can they break ea
- the marriage ring ? m
Can they even dim the lustre which that marriage .
ring-9houId bear?
Can they ?11 her heart with sorrow, or enshroud wi
her-brow with care . i in
If your cooler moments show you these or more ,
may come to pass,
Quickly seek to be forgiven, ere life's sands shall cc
quit the glass. //,
When the pleasant word is spoken, asking pardon
for your sin, of
How the upturned face is gladdened! how rejoiced ar
the heart within! ~
What low, tender words, come flowing from the lK
fountain yon have stirr'd, . w
When your voice, in pleading accents, by the pre- 1U
cious one is heard!
Oh! 'tis something good and noble thus to set a lr)
heart at rest, ! Cu
Sending peace and sweet contentment back within |
the fluttering breast. ^
SSil lifting. ?
STARSWITHOUTNUMBER, ?
AND SPACE WITHOUT BOUNDS. Stl
th
"The undevout astronomer is mad!''
on
When the star-shepherds (astronomers) of a
olden Greece kept nightly watch upon the ls
twinkling flock, that strayed or rested in the WI
unmeasured fields of dark immensity, their ra
eyes often turned in wonder upon a stream j m
of "milky" light, that mysteriously engir- d'
died the star sown space as with a belt or as
zone. As these early observers possessed a ?P
language that was richer than their science,
they found a very happy name for this in- te
teresting object, although they could not de- j Sr
termine anything concerning its nature; jlr(
they called it Galaxtas kuklos, or "The i ?b
Milky Circleand this designation proved i ?f
to be so appropriate and full of force, that it j be
has remained in favor with star-craftsmen 1 ea
even to the .present time. Whenever the | be
living successors of the early astronomers? j *b
^ observers who have gone far towards inter- j
preting the mysteries that so puzzled their : ca
predecessors?wish now, in the nineteenth SP
century of the Christian era, to allude to this g'
remarkable circlet of the nocturnal sky, they c0
still recur to the expressive epithet confer, bf
red upon it by the Greeks, and speak of it be
as the "Milky-Way," or "Galaxy." If
But the star-craftsmen of .modern times, j?
having caught a glimpse of mysterious gleams fl
do not sit down and wonder at them, as the m
old star-shepherds did; they, on the contra- c?
ry, open their eyes to a million times their
natural size, and then, with these wonder- 01
fully enlarged organs of vision, they look in- a
to the misteries. and detect in thpir dcnthc m
meaning and purpose. Sir William Her- lo
schel made hig eye four feet wide, three- th
quarters of a century ago, in order that he dc
might scrutinize this milky stream of the 1)C
sky; and with his organ of vision thus ren- as
dered telescopic, or "far-seeing," he discerned
in it stars by hundreds of thousands.? th
Upon one memorable occasion, he counted ta
no less than fifty thousand stars in a small w:
strip of it not more than thirty times the et
breadth of the full moon. In that narrow it
region, therefore, he saw twelve times as of
many stars as the unaided eye percives in th
the entire heavens. Here, then, is the ex- 9c
planation of the phosphorescence of the m
Milky-Way: it is composed of myriads of OC
of stars, withdrawn so far from the eye into so
the remoteness of space, that the entire light of
of the collective host is blended into one m
faint misty gleam, that is almost upon the at
point of vanishing from unaided human vis- w;
ion, even when contemplated in contrast with of
the utter blackness of night's deep shadow, oc
A "Galaxy" is a mighty star-host, banded cc
together in thickly serried ranks, but so con- w
fused with each other, in extreme distance, th
that the several ranks and individuals are fit
'i.. 4 'TK: .
ilike incapable of being distinguished. It is
he "sheen of their spears" alone that glan:es
to the earth.
Of the army of stars that stands guard
iround man's dwelling-place, some four or
ive thousand are visible to the naked eye;
hese are the nearer lines of the wonderful
rmament, resting within the scope of the
hort-sighted human organ of vision. But
et it be imagined, that whilst man and his
ponderous earth hangs upon nothing in the
oid, as they do?balanced by the Almighty
land?these four or five thousand stars are
[rifted away to join their companions in the
lilby zone; and next let it be further coneived
that they do not stop even there, but
bat they and the milky zone then float onrards,
deeper and deeper into the far-stretchng
realms; than the entire form of light
rould be gathered up, as it was removed
urther and further, into smaller and narower
dimensions. From a wide and long
tream, it would first be dwarted into a narow
patch; then this patch would dwindle
ato a speck; and at last it would be a filmy
omething, seen and yet not seen, cheating
he sharpest eye, and floating nevertheless as
dream of a vision hardly beyond its reach,
f, however, a large telescope were now diected
towards this "dream of a vision," it
muld again become a vision," as large perhaps
s a fourpenny-piece, and as bright, on the
ark field of the midnight sky, as the faintest
rhiff of curl-cloud that the eye ever discernd
on the blue canopy of a summer's day.?
'he stars would all have been absorbed into
le "galaxy,"and this galaxy would then be
sen from without, instead nf from within,
t would be contemplated as a curious miniturc,
hung upon the black walls of space,
istead of being surveyed as a glorious surmnding
panorama. Such, then, is the relote
and external aspect of a star-galaxy.
But how if the deep black walls of space
re really hung by a series of such galactic
liniatures ? IIow, if the sable curtains
lat infold the earth are really the draperies
f a picture-gallery, in which star-systems
re exhibited by hundreds to telescopic gaze?
uch really is the case. The magical teles)pe
of the present day not only sees stars
7 myriads in the Milky-Way, but out far
;yond, in other directions, it contemplates
her wondrous star-groups, completely en>mpassed
by the void, and cut off from
ich other, as from the star-firmament of
an's nocturnal shy, by chasms of absolute
;solute desolation and emptiness?islands
ithout number on the broad ocean of the
finite; archipelagoes of the unfathomable
>pth, separated by intervals of all but ininceivable
vastuess. Not less than four
oumtul suck galaxy miniatures have now
>en marked and numbered in the catalogues
' the star-exhibition ; all of them forms that
e familiarly known, and that, can be identi:d
at any instant by the zealous exhibitors
ho have constituted themselves their enuerators;
and more are continually presentg,'as
telescopes of the highest power are
reeted to fresh regions of research.
But, although of almost inconceivable exnt,
the intervals that, lie between these
lining islands of the void are not immeas able:
an approximate idea of their vastiss
has been realized by. science. The
ensure, however, that is used in the estiation
is of a very novel kind : it starts with
e circumference of the great earth as its
indard unit; but it very soon finds that
is unit is all too small for the work that is
i hand, and so converts this into a term of
much higher order. The terrestrial sphere
25,000 miles round; it would take a railly-carriage,
traveling continuously at the
te of 100 miles every three hours, one
onth to encircle it. Such a material vehie
cannot be transported to the nearest star,
there are no railways laid down through !
ace; but there is a messenger that habitu- j
ly performs this journey, and that gives mlligible
indications of the rate of its proess
whilst doing so. Light-beauis pass
3Di star to star through the intervening
lasras, and unite the whole by a net-work
connection. It is by means of such lightsams
that information is brought to the
rth of the existence of these surrounding
dies. These light-beams flash along in
eir progress so rapidly, that they go eight
iiies as far again in a second as the railwayTriage
docs in a month. As far as mere i
ieed is concerned, they are able to put a ;
rdle eight times round the earth, while a j
nnmon clock makes a single beat. Can it!
I ascertained then, how long the light-1
:am that comes from the nearest star, to
II of its existence, has to spend upon the
urney ? because if it can, this may give an
ementary expression that will prove to be
anageable in yet higher computations. By
inverting twenty millions of units that are !
iterniined by periods of steam-speed, into ;
le unit that is determined by light-speed, i
new comprehensive span is obtained, that!
ay certainly be used as a link in a very ;
ng chain indeed. Since light goes eight
mcs as far in a second as steam-carriages
> in thirty-one days, the speed of light is
itter than twenty millions of times as great
that of steam.
The sun is 3,800 times as far again from
e earth as the earth is around. This disnce,
is so great, that it would take a railay-carriage,
moving at the rate of 100 miles
rery three hours, 330 years to get through
; but the earth itself, travelling with a speed
better than 68,000 miles per hour, gets
rough a journey of a like extent?that is
>,000,000 of miles?in something like two
onths. The earth sweeps through S5,000,)0
of miles in this interval. Suppose, then,
me clever surveyor were to take advantage
' this movement of the earth, and were to
ake an observation upon some one remark >le
star on two different occasions, when he
as in situations of space ninety-five millions
' miles asunder, he would then, on the two
;casions, look at the star along lines which
mvcrged together to meet at the star, but
hich were separated from each other at
eir further extremities by a line ninetyre
inillons of miles long. Now, if the surw
A."r"
' ' 2 r*"- " m
, t,--. ' / 1&2 V-..,'.- S&vCSl. Sr .
vvv"a
veyor could find how great or how small the
degree of convergence was by which these
lines approached each other: or, in o?her
words, if he could make out how far they
had to go before they met at the star, he
would obviously know how far the star is
away. This clever piece of star-surveying
has really been successfully performed. The
nearest star i? at least 200,000 times further
away than the sun. In the triangle formed
for the purposes of the survey, the two lonsr
lines run 200,000 times further than the
length of the base separating them before
they meet. The light-beam comes from the
sun to the earth in eight minutes and a quarter,
but it must consume three years, and a
quarter upon its jouney before it can arrive
from the nearest star.
"Rnf efan to nttl tt r\ rt tit a {rtr
JL/Ul tiiU liUttiCCt OUil AO \JUIJ uu tuc lUliCl
confines of the vast star-galaxy; the space
that it takes the flash of light three years
and a quarter to traverse, is nevertheless
but a little space, almost swallowed up in
the immensity by which it is surrounded.?
By the application of another principle, Sir
William Herschel convinced himself that
the most remote stars of the Milky-Way are
750 times as far again away as the nearest
one. In making this estimate, he gave up
surveying and its proceedings, as no longer
of any avail iu the task in hand, and he
took to sounding the vast depths before him
in its place. First, he ascertained, by experiments
on the way in which light is weakened
by increasing distance, that if the nearest
star were withdraw until ten times its
present distance, it would appear like the
faintest star that can be discerned by the
naked eye. He next satisfied himself, that
if the star were yet again withdrawn to seventy-five
times that distance, it would still
be seen by a telescope, with an aperture
eighteen inches across, as a faint star.?
Then, knowing that he could see myriads
of such faint stars in the Milky-Way, - when
he employed a telescope of this dimension
iu seeking them, he at once arrived at the
conclusion, those stars were seventy-five
times ten times as far again off as the star
from which light-beams come in three years
and a quarter. These stars consequently
twinkle in a region so stupendously remote,
that even the flashing lightbeams cannot
reach the earth from them?when sent upon
its telescopic mission of revealing their existence
to man?in a less period than 2,625
years. The astronomer, looking though his
wonderful tube, now sees those stars by
means of light that started off from them on its
errand of revelation to his eye when Rome
and Jerusalem were both in their early
glories, and ruled by their kings.
By an extension of*the same ingenious
reasoning, it has been determined that the
external galaxies are themselves many times
more distant than the remotest stars of the
Milky-Way. Sir William Herschel found
that a star-group, consisting of 5,000 individuals,
would have been discerned in the
midnight heavens, by the help of his large
four-feet wide telescope, as a faint speck of
light, if 30,000 times as remote again as the
nearest star in the firmament. As, therefore,
numbers of such faint specks of light were
visible to the glance of this noble instrument,
he inferred that those specks were stargalaxies
thus far away; that they were really
star-groups, so far off that light beams could
only flash from them by a passage of close
upon a million of years. The recent discoveries
of Lord Rosse have gone a long
way to confirm the sagacious deductions of
the illustrious astronomer of the eighteenth
century, In his still more gigantic instrument,
many of Sir William Herschel's faint
specks are now seen as glorious masses of
stars, clustering round each other as thick as
bees in a dense swarm. The leviathan telescope
of Lord Rosse, which has accomplish-,
ed this interesting result, opens its enormous
pupil with something like an 80,000 eyepenetrating
power, and pierces as far again
x _ ii J i _ i _ n*
into remoteness as tne great telescope 01 sir
"William Herschel did. Still, it seems only
to have carried human vision a comparatively
trifling and unimportant step nearer to the
bounds of universal space : fur there, upon
the new horizon which its penetrating glance
brings into sight, fresh faint specks of starless
light loom, as intractable and irresolvable
to its powers as the old ones were before.
The veteran philosopher, Baron Humboldt,
a very high authority in these matters, after
a deliberate consideration of all the circumstances
concerned, has placed his belief upon
record in the.pages of Cosmos, that some of
these specks reveal themselves to the observer
by means of light-beams which started
from them millions of years ago. And so
again, in all probability, still larger telescopes,
that would discern stars in these specks,
would still find other specks beyond them
which have never yet presented themselves
to human vision. Such is the universe which
astronomical science now calls upon the intellect
of mankind to recognise; a scheme in
which star-systems, each composed of myriads
of orbs, are as numerous as the stars
themselves are in the glorious firmament of
night, and in which these star-systems are
distributed through an expanse that flashing
light cannot cross in millions of years, although
it can circle round the earth, seemingly
so vast, eight times in a second ! To
an intelligence that has been made capable
of fathoming these depths, and comprehending
these results, the universe really presents
itself as "unfinished" or "infinite." "Infinity"
properly means that which is not finished
or bounded (infinitus) within the scope
of human investigation or research
To Keep Furs.?Roll the furs (of any
description) into compact, close bundles, and
wrap around them two, three, or more wrappings
of unbroken paper, in such mauner as
to prevent the ingress of insects. If this be
properly done, they may be put where most
convenient, in a dark place orin a light one,
in a tight drawer, or on an open shelf, and
may be left undisturded until wanted, whether
that be six months or six years, without
danger. No need of camphor, tobacco, &c. j
-. 3 t V t - + >
- ^ v ' * -C. , ' '* ^ "r* , '
a-- i-.jsinbr.
Select Jpsallang.
SOUTHERN THOUGHT.
Centralization is the monster evil of the
day. It tends to create a single centre of
trade, credit,, money, and wraith, and also
one of thought, intellect, and fashion. The
former centre is at London, the latter at Paris.
Neither the wealth nor the institutions of
any country are safe, that come fully within
the influence of those absorbing maelstroms.
The evils of a single centre of thought are
greater than those of il centre trade, for it
prevents originality, begets imitativeness,
and gives to the world but one set of ideas.
After the conquest of Greece by the Romans,
the schools at Athens, and their branches at
Alexandria and a few other cities, continued
to be the centres of thought for the civilized
world. These schools borrowed from the
past, and the rest of the world borrowed
from them. The human mind was chained
down and imprisoned, and soon began to decline.
Wc have always considered the schools
of Athens as the most potent cause of the
decline of civilization, and of the coming
oh of the dark ages.
The South has strong and peculiar reasons
for resisting the influence of this centralization
of thought. She can import from abroad
only such ideas as are at war with her insti- j
tutions. Her sons had better observe and
study the social phenomena that present
themselves at home, or engage in the critical
pursuit of Creek, Roman and Hebrew literature,
than to go to Paris to learn socialism
and infidelity, or to the North to imbibe Abolitionism.
At least, before they travel abroad
they should thoroughly understand the
history, the theory, and the practical working
of their own institutions.
The numerous Colleges and Universities
that have been erected of late years in the
South, have already checked the inr^rds of
centralization, and given birth to original
domestic thought. Professor Drew, of William
and Mary was the first to write a really
Southern book. His defence of slavery is
bold, original and learned, and leaps over
the fashionable morality, religion and philosophy
of tbe day, to appeal to the practices,
the history, the religion, the morality and
the philosophy of mankind in general. Professor
Holmes, of the same College, has also .
written many learned, profound and original
essays in defence of our institutions. Professor
Smith, of Randolph Macon, delivers
a series of lccturesannunlly, expounding and
justifying slavery on principle; and now
Professor Bledsoe, from our University, it
self soon to become one of the centres of
Southern thought, has given to the public an
able scientific work vindicating our institutions.
Southern thought has at length awakened.
Tt will save the South, and nothing.else
can. For men mustbe first satisfied
of the justice of their cause, ere they will
embark heart and soul in its defence. Those
Colleges, against which demagogues declaim,
are worth all the rest of our institutions ; for
the salvation of all the rest depends on them.
Richmond Enquirer.
From the N. 0. Crescent, April 28.
EDITORIAL LIFE.
One of the subjects frequently alluded to,
but little known?of great importance, and
of some, though not sufficient esteem, i9 that
one with which we have prefaced these re- '
marks?the life'editorial.
In a country like our own, where the ,
newspaper is, perhaps, the most omnipotent (
and omnipresent of all agencies?where it ^
stands as preacher, chronicler, friend politi- t
cian, agent, king and judge; rewarding the ^
good, punishing the bad; encouraging pro- >
gress, and stating the path and the goal of .
that progress?it has the highest crown of j
any in the royal congress of labor. That it
is without reproach, no one will assert.? j
There are bad men, who subvert it to the ^
lowest purpose; ambitious men, who direct ,
it to mere political or pecuniary objects; in- ?
sane men, who direct it towards what is im- (
practicable and unattainable, as well as to j
what is undesirable. But the rule, by the
verdict of that great, jury which comprises ,
our wh&le country and all of our countrymen f
aye, even by the world at large?has been j
endorsed; so that now it is honorable, as well {
as responsible, and^s influential as it is powerful.
The very men who transform it from
I its true intents, and wrench it into wroner.
' c
pay the homage vice must eyer render virtue,
in so doing.
If an individual has made a grand discovery
in mechanics, in philosophy, or in any
other department of learning, what is his
first step but to secure the herculean agency
of the press? If a grand deed has been accomplished,
or a high thought evolved?if
progress has been made in any department
soever, from abstract philosophy to a patent
rat-trap?the world knows that the discoverer
never content with his laurels, unless they
are placed upon his brow by the press. It
is, in our grand human demooracy, a Nemesis
to the sinner, but Minerva, with all her
glories, to the good, and a great stay and solace
to the suffering.
What an illimitable field of labor is opened
to it; and with how much zeal, how
much ability, honesty and fidelity?through
adversity, against opposition, without reward
?does it march on towards the mark of its
high calling; like an olden knight, panoplied 1
all in steel, whose progress no power may 1
prevent. There is suffering in the way for ]
those by whom it is served?weak and wea- t
ry in their everlasting work, to which that 1
of Sisyplus was but a prologue and adumbra- <
tion. There is more than weakened nerves, ?
wearied brain and a doWn-letting of all the <
physical agencies; for a thousand lions, and 1
dogs and hyenas lie in his path, watching j
the banner-man as he marches?ready at all 1
times to besmear his golden standard, though 1
they may not face his trenchant falchion.? 1
There is the unending wrestler with the i
world, in all the mental and material shapes 1
| in which it can be presented, and with those 11
- ' . ... 4 * :
i.. v \ -i- ',s - !.y ^ .* o ?
shapes subdivided into personal and antago- t
nistic ones. Friends must be defended to j
the death, though their thanks are more than
they will repay for the labor. Foes must c
be fought, who will come to the encounter, n
armed with every weapon, to win their e
cause; and when the terrible combat is end- i;
ed, does the hero-fighter lie down to repose n
and rest? New labors and other contests are v
waiting his taxed powers. He turns only 6
to meet a fresh foe, on as bitter a field as the I
former, who must be hurled down by his e
arm?because the good, easy world, knows f
that he can do it, and give9 no quarter if he k
yields once where he has conquered, a thons- j
and times. s
And more is demanded the more is done, a
A piece of unseasonable news?an erroneous o
chronicling of one man's given name, or of o
one horse's best time?an inference which, d
for want of exact knowledge concerning all ii
the premises, happens to be wrong?is visit- o
ed with reproach and severe censure. The u
impossibility of perfection below is forgotten, t<
and the editor is expected to comprehend all w
the virtues, all the graces, all the heroism n
and all the goodness of the world. A thous- si
and merciless censors sit ? iund with jagged fi
sticks, to torture him for the slightest fail- si
ure.
So onward?ever toiling, learning, striv- ^
ing and seeking to improve himself and
others, the editor goes; crowded hard by ira- n
portunities always?sometimes slipping, but *1
leaping manfully to the front again, and c'
inarching resolutely, flag and sword in hand, ai
into?the coffin. And as the clods rattle b
over him, the world says : 'Another editor's
dead?a decent fellow?wonder who'll take ^
his place?' Wonder away 1 Who can fill E
the vacant seat ? Not you?nor you?nor 11
you?unkind, uncharitable, ungenerous, on ?]
whom his life has been bestowed. For the tc
true editor is not the thing of a day, but one
who has been taught by time, by thought, b
by bitter pain and experience; and the cru- tc
cible through which such go is so severe, ol
that manv norish in it where one lives?to w
die. w
S
A NEW INVENTION. tl
Some years since hoop-iron was proposed w
as a substitute for rope in baleing cotton, if
and to some extent it was brought into use; ji
but in consequence of the difficulty in ad- it
justing the rivits, and the time lost in secur- s<
ing them, most persons abandoned the use it
of iron and returned to the rope. We were it
shown yesterday a new invention for fasten- p
ing the bands, which obviates all ojcctions, fc
and can be done by any one who has eyes fc
and hands, in an instant?much sooner than h
a rope can be tied. ol
The fastening is made by' binding over tl
each end of the strap, so as to form two hooks vi
and when one is placed in the other, a bl
sliding-clasp over them, which confies them in
immovably. This simple contrivance is the al
invention of David McComb, of cotton press pi
celebrity, and by a telegraphic despatch re- ra
ceived yesterday from Washington, we learn
that he has obtained a patent for it. pi
The advantages of using hoop-iron for ei
baleing cotton are, with McComb's fasten- in
ings, obvious enough. ei
First, time is saved, as the straps can be th
put in and fastened more rapidly than ropes hi
can be tied. pi
Second, the straps will hold the bale to of
within two inches of the size that the press gc
makes it, while ropes stretch incontinently, re
Third, in compression for shipment, the is
straps can be more readily ve-clasped than Q
ropes can be tied, and they will hold the
;ompressed bale to its size, while with rope- B
lies it expands twenty-five to thirty percent,
ifter it leaves the press. This will make a gi
?ain of space to shippers that is important, th
To illustrate?A ship that has stowage for be
1,000 bales, tied with ropes, can make room tri
far 5,000 bales with iron straps. S3
Fourth, the weight, of the straps to each de
iale is about eight and one-half to nine th
sounds, and can be furnished this year, al- gr
eady painted, with hooks and clasps, at
tbout two cents per pound less than rope? an
)f itself a very considerable item to the plant- nc
ng interest. of
Finally, the iron hoops are a protection se
igainst fire, for though it may burn some on se
;he outside, a bale of cotton cannot readily w:
uurn up until the ties are broken and the 0
iir allowed to get to the mass of cotton.? re
Vicksbvrg Whig. th
cr
PUNCTUALITY. te
It should be remembered that punctuality al
m the fulfilment of engagements is a matter gr
>f the utmost importance with men of busi- T1
aess; and yet it is quite difficult for them to se
be punctual under some of the circumstances of
;hat we have described. A day or two since flc
1 friend stopped in the street for only five so
minutes to hear a story that turned out of at
eery little importance, and yet he lost his m
passage to New York. He arrived at the it?
tvharf just one minute too late! Another th
mecdote in point: In the year 1842, two of th
mr most eminent physicians, Dr. R. and Dr. it
W. had an appointment together for the pur- ac
pose of consultation. The hour was four sii
j'clock in the afternoon. Dr. R. arrived at ej
the designated time, and, with watch in hand fe
tvalked up and down the parlor. Five minutes
elapsed, and Dr. W. had not made his
ippearance. At the expiration of ten min- wi
ates he came. Dr. R. then complained bit- la:
:erly, and said in consequence of the delay uc
bis entire business for the afternoon had gr
aeen deranged. Dr. TV. apologized, and fo
promised to do better next time. The other lit
shook his head with incredulity, and said
;hat, unfortunately, the case was not the first ne
>f the kind. They then visited the patient m
md made another engagement for ten o'- ry
ilock the next mornipg. Dr. W. was on pi
;liis occasion five minutes in advance, where- in
is Dr. K. made bis appearance exactly as ar
:he clock was striking ten. The other, as M
ae saw his approach, exclaimed, with exul- m
ation, "ah! Doctor, who is the punctual ca
man this time?" "lam," retorted Dr. R. W
with considerable spirit. ?I am here at the R
appointed time, neither before nor after, and e^
L ;
. fcv/.
hat according to my view of the subject, is ]
mnctuality." . And he was right. <
Still another: A leading lawyer of this i
ity, now among the departed, carried his :
totions of punctuality to a very remarkable '
xtent. At the time designated for a meet- 1
ng in his office he would remain five min- j
ites to allow for any possible difference in <
matches, and then, should the other party
ail to appear, he would invariably go out. 1
it first, the plan was regarded novel and 1
ccentric; bat soon the effect was salntary, i
or all who made engagements with him <
mew that they must be punctual, or were 1
irepared to take the consequences. The <
abject is one that might be followed up to s
lmost any extent. How many members of I
ur public bodies are in the constant habit
f keeping tbeir colleagues waiting, and thus {
elaying and postponing the transaction ol t
mportnnt business ! Sucb a course is not \
nly discourteous and ungentlemanly, but is t
njust and unfair. No man has a right won- s
mly to waste the time of his neighbor; i
rhile the individual who makes an engage- {
lent, not intending to fulfil it, exhibits a
id want of gentlemanly propriety, and is in t
ict guilty of a meanness as well as an in- t
alt.?Philadelphia Enquirer. a
t
'HE "RIGHT" AND "LEFT" HAND.' t
Is it really a physiological fact, that men
aturally use the right hand in preference to
ie left ? Sir Benjamin Brodie, in his Psyhological
Inquiries, p. 203, speaks of it as c
n instinct. He evensuggests that it is pro- e
able it is "an original instinct," adding: 9
"The reason of our being endowed with 9
lis particular instinct is sufficiently obvious. c
tow much inconvenience would arise, where
is necessary lor different individuals toco- a
perate in manual operations, if some were 11
> use one hand and some the other 0
The truth of this remark is obvious enough;
at unless medical men can show some ana- S
imical difference between the band3 (which n
f course would settle the doubt at once,) o
e suspect that a jury of nurses and mothers
ould draw a very dmerent conclusion lrom u
ir Benjamin Brodie's. They would aver
mt the use of the right hand is a thing 1
rhich has to be taught from babyhood j that
' a rattle were offered to an infant, it would c
ist as naturally take it in the left hand as c
i the right, and that it is only because nur- c
>s and mothers are perpetually counteract- t
ig the natural propensity to use both hands c
idifferently, that the use of the right by 1
reference is ever acquired. Children of
mr or five years old, even, will constantly E
>rget, and offer the left hand in shaking t
ands?a mistake which every kind friend *
f the family corrects with a joke. What, i
lerefore, Sir Benjamin Brodie calls an "ob- 9
ious reason" for the "instinct," may possi- f
ly be rather an obvious reason for the "teach- c
ig." The etymology of the word right 1(
so, as applied to hand, would seem to imly
that that is the hand ruled or ordered for c
iore especial use. v
None but a medical man can, however, <
ronounce positively as to any original differ- ^
ice in the hands. We therefore make the n
iquiry, as it is one certainly worth consid ation.
Moreover, we should like to know s(
tat Sir Benjamin Brodie is not putting off u
is readers with mere drawing-room philoso- ^
iy?teaching pretty inferences of the cause h
' our being endowed by the author of all ^
iod with a "particular instinct," when there
ally seems to bo doubt as to whether there *
any instict at all in the matter.?Notes and d
ueries, d
a;
ATHING IN THE RIVER JORDAN. J
The river Jordan is annually visited by ^
eat numbers of pilgrims from all parts of
e woild, who are desirous of bathing their o:
idies in its sacred waters. An English 11
aveller, in a recently published work on
?ria and the Syrians, gives the following
iscription of the scene upon the banks of w
1 .1 . 1 _ *1 TT(
e river aurmg tne time 01 tne yearjy pn- j"
image: d
''Here we sow the pilgrims Lad arrived,
d were bathing pell-mell. The sight was
iw far more exciting than ever; hundreds
pilgrims, men, women and children, dresd
in long white gowns, were being immer- jg
d in the river. This white gown is after- ^
lrds reserved by them as their death shroud. ^
n gaining the water's edge, a strong man
ceived the people and dashed them under v
e water two or three times, till the poor
eatures were quite suffocated; but not con- cj
nt with those three dips, which are gener- tj
ly after the number of the Trinity, the pil- ^
im seeks again to dip himself in the water. a
bey dipped themselves and rubbed them- Ives,
as if they were enjoying a foretaste a]
Paradise. Some who could swim were
lating on the current, others holding by
me bush. I stood entranced; the vociferions,
the Babel of languages, and the pellell
scene, was one of the most exciting of
i nature. On coming out of the water,
e pilgrims congratulated each other with
ese words?"An acceptable dip I" "May |j;
be blest to you," which means, May God el
ceptyour pilgrimage, and wash away your jc
as. Old and young, men and women, clerr
and laity, rushed into the water, and buf- f
ted with the rolling element." C(
h,
Public Approval of Mr Books.?We ^
?ro not mistaken in asserting, on Saturday 8(
st, that the Hon. Preston S. Brooks had j?
>t only the approval, but the hearty con- cj
wftiluMnna r\f flia nannla nf flnntli Oernlino l_
r his summary chastisement of the Abo- tt
ionist Sumner. g
Immediately upon the reception of the it
iws on Saturday last, a most enthusiastic \t
eeting as convened in the town of Newber- S{
, at which Gen. Williams, the Intendant,
'esided. Complimentary resolutions were
troduced by Gen. A.'C. Garlington, and 01
dent speeches made by him, Col. S. Fair, w
aj. Henry Summer and others. The cl
eeting voted him a handsome gold-headed n*
ne, which we saw yesterday, on its way to pi
rashington, entrusted to the care of Hon. r<
. F. Simpson. At Anderson, this* same T
rening, a meeting waa called, and com* tt
I '
plimentary.resolutions adopted. We beard '
me of Carolina's truest and most'.honored
natrons from Mr. Brooks' district send a '
iage to him by Maj. Simpson, saying
that the ladies of the Sooth would send
lim hickory sticks, with which to chastise :
Abolitionists and Red Republicans when
sver he wanted them.'
Here in Columbia, a handsome sum, /
leaded by the Governor of the State,:;has
ieen subscribed, for the purpose of prssentng
Mr. Brooks with a splendid silver pitch ;r,
goblet and stick, which will be conveyed to ?
lim in a few days by the hands of gentlemen
leleg&ted for that purpose. In Charleston
iimilar testimonials have been ordered by
:he friends of Mr. Books. , ;
And, to add the crowning glory to the
;ood work, the slaves of Columbia bare aleady
a handsome subscription,* and will C
jresentan appropriate token of their regard/ - >
o him who has made the first practical hi- _
iue, for their preservation and protection
n their rights and enjoyments as the hap>iest
laborers on the face of the globe.
Meetings of approval and sanction will he - ', <
leld not only in Mr. Brooks' district, but
hroughout the State at large, and a general
nd hearty response of approval will re-echo
he words "Well done/ from "Washington to ' **
he Rio-Grande.?South Carolihiaii. ? .
SHUTTING DOOBS."Don't
look so cross, Edward, when'I
all you back to shut the door; grandmotb-..
r feels the cold wintry wind; and heides,
you have got to spend all your life,
hutting doors, and might as well begin
iow.' .
Do forgive, grandmother 1 I ought to be V
shamed to cross you. But whatdo'yoti
aean ? I am going to college, and then I ; .
m going to be a lawyer.'
<Well, admitting all this! I imagine
Iqntre Edward C will have a'goc-nany
doors to shut, if ever he makes much "
f a man.' . *.vN v ,
What kind of doors ? Do tell me, grand-"
aother.'
Sit down a minute, and I will give you a
ist.
In the first place, the door of your ears
nust be closed against bad language and evil
ounsel of the boyB and young men you will*
neet with at school and college, or you will ,
le undone. Let them once get 'possession
if that door, and I would not give much for-,
Edward C~ 's future prospects. - * V.
The door of your eyes, too. mnst be shut
igainst bad books, idle novels, and, low, ricked
newspapers, or your studies will be
nr\/l ?AM Wrtll r?1?ATO WW* O 'tlOalnM
IC^lCl/tCU j ftUU JUW IT 111 VTT U|/ ? wijvtvwy
gnorant man; you will have to close them
ometimes against the fine things exposed''
or sale in the show windows, or you
iever learn to save your money, or have ahy" ,
eft to give away. " " .
'The door of your lips will need especial* *
are, for they guards an unruly member,.
rhich makes great use of the bad company
etin at the doors of the eyes and eats.?
'hat door is very apt to blow open; and^f;
ot constantly watched, will let out angiy;
rifling or vulgar words. It will backbite,
ometimes worse than the winter's wincbif it
j left open too long. I would advise you - ^
0 keep it Bhut much of the time till you .
ave laid up a store of knowledge, or at least -
ill you have something valuable to say.
'The inner door of your heart must be '
'ell shut against temptation, for oohsbleaijs^ y^V
lie door-keeper grows very indifferent if you *
isregard his call; end sometimes drbpr* .
sleep at his post, and when you may think ou
are doing very well, you ave fast going
own to ruin.
'If you carefully guard the outside doom
f the eyes, ears, and lips, you will keep out. ' v
lany cold blasts of sin, which get in be>re
you think.
'This 'shutting doors,' you see,' Eddy,1"
ill be a serious business; one on which
our well-doing, in this life and the next,^
epends." * _: /-Or'. r
An Enthusiastic CoMPLiMiNT.r-The
othusiastic Kelmer thus discourses upon
le fair sex : "Woman is indeed a bright
ad beautiful creature. Where she is, there",
1 a paradise; where she is not, there is a
esert. Her smile inspires lore, and raises
uman nature nearer to the immortal source
F its being. Her sweet and tender heart >
* a . v I 1 1
ives Hie and soul to aeau ana senseies*
lings. She is the ladder by which we
limb from earth to heaven. She.is the prac*
cal teacher of mankind, and the world
ould be a void without her. She i? more
celestial than a terrestrial beiDg?charm*
ig and amiable as a girl, dutiful as a wife,
ad glorious as a mother. She is the bal*
im of a man's life?his faithful counsellor
ad pillow. She can impart all the pleasres
to his cares of friendship, all the enjoy*
tent of sense and reason, and all the sweets
f life."
Ivy.?By a little management you ntaj
ave your ivy to cling perfectly. When*
?er a branch .grows without attaching itself
i the wall, cut off the loose part close to ft
af beneath which the attachment is per*
ict. Continue this process till the wall is
)vered, and ever arterwards cut away all
anging branches, or by the force of the
ind they will detach others besides them*
ilves. When the ends of growing ivy once
lose their hold, they are never still suffi*
lently long to be able to attach themselves j
at, by catting away to the point of cqn*
ict, they are enabled to proceed to the new
rowth and thus hold fast. Cut off 'tbe.hftng*;'
jg branches as soon as seen; for, by swing*
ig about in the wind, the injury is cofiantly
increasing.
OS* Mdther. teach your child to wait up
a itself?to pot away a thing when done
ith it. But do not forget yon were once a
aild. The grief of little ones are too often
eglected; they are great for them. Bear
itiently with them, and never in any way
n?e their anger, if it can be avoided.?
each a ehild to be nsefol, whenever opporinity
may offer.
afc . ~ ...