Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 05, 1856, Image 1

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' '' '?dV,:-4-'; ~ . : jj -?-? J ^ ~ "'"' '" ^ ~ ^ ?~~?~?????? ??: . ~~ ; ^ ' i rSi in Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests.of the South. Iiewisk. qbist, pumuher. * ^ f ' * J ' .7.' . ' - . ' ... . . ' ^ VOL! 2 YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 5, 1856. 3STO. S3. * __? : = = : - - ,v . 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 . ~ ...