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^^^^^^ = A___^ 5 ~ _? ^ 885 s * *"" ~^~~~ ""^ ' '^; - . r's ' " . ^?S?P irtfc*' j VOL L % GREENVILLE, S. Or: FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 9, 1854. * NO. 4 r im ' i . jit f-mttljcru Cntrrjirist, a reflex ok popular events. waai^aabsa s?? ipaacsia, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. .... ST. J. &Vt. P. Price, Publishers. * ?* y T\me 50, pnvnMe iu advance ; $2 if delayed. CLUIIS ot TliN and nnwnrda Si. ttie iitonov in evsrj iusi?iii-? to accompany the order. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at the rates of 75 cents per square of 13 lines, and , 25 cents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts for yearly advertising raodo reasonable.' t)c jfet'fiffi (grlja. ,6 3 I b $ t (J. B T M K tt . S O V T H ? * . :.l. , Pown from the willow bough My slumbering harp I'll take, . . ' And bid its ailcnt strings m_ V _ * - ? da . JLO ne?fcniy uicinw RWBKO Peaceful let its breathing* bo, When I sing of Calvary. -Ixtve. lovo divine, I sing; Oh I for a seraph's lyro, Bathed in Silna's stream, v And touched -with living fire; Ix>fty, pure, the strain should be, When I sing of Calvary. Lovo, lore on oarth appears 1 The wretched throng his way: lie beareih all their griefs. And wipes.thoir tears away; ' Soft and sweetie strains should be, Saviour, when I sing to thee. He saw mo a. passed, In hopeless sorrow lie, Condemned nud doomed to death, And no salvation nigh : Long, and loud the strain should be, When 1 sing his love to me. 'I die for thee,' he said? Behold the cross arise! And lo, he bows his head? lie oows nis itcau mm aieai Soft, my heart, thy breathing* be, Let me weep of Calvary. lie lives t again he lives! 1 hear the voice of love, lie cornea to soothe my fears, . * And draw my soul above ; Joyful now the strain should be, When I sing of Calvary. 1. . .. 'I 51Ifatfij little IJqle's DJVlrU ge, OR, > the han0 n0t always the heart. 'Ifever I marry,' Kate Yale used to say, half in earnest,' the happy man?or the unhappy one, if you please, ha I ha 1?shall be a possessed of these three qualifications : 4 First, a fortune: 4 Second, good looks; 4 Third, common sense. 41 mention the fortune first, because I think it the raoet needful and desirable qualification of the three. Altho' I never could think . of marrying a fool, or a man whose ugliness I should be ashamed of, still tliiuk to talk sense for the one, and shine for the other with plentv of money, would be preferable to living obscure with a handsome, intellectual man?to whom economy might be necessary.' I do not know how much of this sentiment came from Kate's heart. Sho undoubtedly indiilved loftv ideas of station and nt.vlo?for __ ^ ,iy iu V'""'- "V her education iu the duties and aiins of life h ad beta deficient, or rather erroneous; but that she -was capable of deeper, better feelings none ever doubted who hnd obtained even a partial glimpse 01 uer iruu wwu?u a nature. _^k And the time arrived whou Kate was to take that all-important, step of which she had often spoken so lightly?-when alio was to demonstrate to her frieiaj^hpw tfttich of 4, her heart was in the worda^faSbsve emoted. At the enchanting age of eiptteen she had , many suitors; but as she never gave a serious thought to more than two, we will follows her example, and discarding alt others 1 f"f MSIi * '*- - ' except uio?? iavortxi um?, consiuer tneir re\.' Utivo claim#. 1 ^ v. . If this were any other than a troe story, I should certainly uso ah artist's privilege, and aim to produce an effect by makin^t strong contrast betw een the two favored individuals. If I could have my own way, one should be a poor genius, and something of a Aero; the other a wealthy fool and someta,5?v ' On?j>oor^|?niiia was not much of a gnu ua-wikot very, poor either,* lie was by profession a teacher of music, and he could live very comfertably^by the exercise thereof? without the most distant hope, however, of Far1 it ever attaining to wealth Morever, Francis, Minot, possessed excellent qualities, which cntittled him to bo called by elderly people 'a flue character,' by his companions 4a noble good fellow,' and by the ladies generally a 4 darling.' Kate oouh^pt help loving Mr. Frank, and he knew it. TBe was certain she preferred his society cvoh to ihat of Mr. Wellington, whom alone ho saw fit to honor with the appellation of rival. This Mr. Wellington (his companions called him 4Duke,') was no idiotor nuiup back, as I couldPhavo wished him to be, iy order to make a good story. On the contrary, ho tv" ii ft a lit nil rtf oanoa rwvvl IaaIto onrJ man ners and there was nothing of the kuave j kbout him that I could over ascertain. Pesides this, his income, was sufficient to to enable him to live superbly. Also, he was considered two or three degrees handsomer tlmn Mr. F. Minot. Therefore the only thing on which Frank had to depend, was the power ho possessed i over Kate's sympathies and affections.?The J 4 Duke'?Although just, tho man for her in every sense, being blessed with a fortune, good looks, and common sense?had never beeu able to draw these out, and the unliable, conceited Mr. Frank was not willing to believe that she would suffer mere wordly considerations to control tho aspirations of hor j heart. j However one day when he pressed her to decide his fate, she said to liini with a sigh : 4 Oh, Frank ! I am sorry we have ever met!' 4 Sorry V 4Yes; for wo must part now.' 'Part 1' repeuted Frank, turning pale. It Was evident he had not expected this. 4 Yes?yes,' said Kate, oasting down her bead with another piteous sigh. Frank eat by her side; ho placed his arm around her waist, without heeding her feeble resistance, he lowered his voice and talked to lier until she?proud Kate?wept, wept bitterly. 'Kate,' said he, then with a burst of passion, I know you love me! but you are proud, ambitious, selfish ! Now if you would havo me leaVo you say, say the word, and I go.' Go!' murmured Kate, feebly?'go.' Have you decided ?' whispered Frank. 'I have/ 'Then, love, farewell!' He took her hand, gazed a moment tenderly and sorrowfully, into her beautiful, tearful face, and then clasped her to his bosom. She permitted the embrace. She even gave way to the impulse, aud twined her arms around his neck ; but in a moment, her resolution came to her aid, and she pushed from her with a sigh. * 'Shall I go?' he articulated. f A ft;eblc 'yea' fell from her lips?and an instant later she was lying on the sofa, sobbing and weeping?alone ! To tear the tenucious root of love out of her heart, had cost her more than she could have anticipated ; and the certainty of a golden life of luxury proved but a poor consolation it seemed ,for the sacrifice she had made. She lay upon* the sofa, I say, sobbing and wpeping passionately. Gradually her grief apj>eared to oxhaust itself. Her toofs ceased to flow, and at length her eyes and cheek were dry. Her head was pillowed on her arm, and her face half hid in a flood of beautiful curls. The struggle was over. The agony was past She saw Mr.'Wellington enter, and rose cheerfully to meet him. His manners pleased her?his station and fortune fascinated her more. Ho offered her his hand? she accepted it A kiss sealed the engagement but it was not such a kiss as Frank had iMtron 1ioi> nn.l o1?a 1,1 * - JglTVAA UVI , MUU MIV WUUI MJUI W ^1X^1 U sigh. There was a magnificent wedding. Splendidly attired dazzling the eye with her beauty thus adorned, with everything around swimming in the charmed atmosphere of fairy land, Kate gave her hand to the man] her ambition?not her love?had chose.ii. But certainly ambition eould not have made a better choice. Already she saw herself surrounded by a magnificent court, of which sh? vraa the acknowledged and admitted queen. The favors of fortune were showered upon her; she floated luxuriously upon the smooth and glassy wave of a charmed roe. Nothing was wanting in the whole circle of her existence to adoni it and niako it it bright with happiness. But she was not long in discovering that there was something wanting within her breast. Her friends wore numerous; her husband tender, kind and lovii^c; but all the attentions and affections could not fill her heart RlicKul nnou foil ita d.nrjla uiirl avmn?4k.. VM?V -..V. fpovcd by a skilful touch ; she bad kuown the heavy charm of their deep, delicious harmony, and now they were silent?motionless ?muffled, ho to speak, in silks and satins. Those oh"ls still and soundless her heart was dead?none the- loss so, because it had been killed by a golden shot, having known and felt the life of sympathy in it, unclosed by the life of luxury, in short Kate in time became magnificently miserable?spendidly unhappy. Then a change became apparent^ to her ' husband. He could not long remain blind n** " . V*-. to the fact that-his love was not returned, llo sought the company of those whose g*yety might lead him to forget the sorrow end despair of his soul. This shallow iofce was unsatisfactory, however, and impelled by a powerful longing for love, he went astray to warm 111* lionrt l>v p Kate saw herself now in the midst of a ( gorgeous desolation, burning with thrist unconquerable by golden streams that flowed j around her, panting with a hunger whh'h not all the flood of flattery and admiration j could appease. j Sho reproached her husband for deserting j hor thus, and he answered with angry and i desperate taunts of deception and a total j lack of love, which smote her conscience heavily. ? , 'You do not care for me,' he cried, 'then why do you oomplain that I bestow else- * where the affection you have met with cold-, ness!' 1 'But it is wrong?sinful,' Kate remonstraI ted. "Yon, I know it,'said her husband fiercely; it is the evil seed ? Who gave mo a hand without a heart! Who became a sharer of my fortune, but gave mo no share in her sympathy ? Who devoted mo to the fate I of a loving, unloved husband ? Nay, do not wocj), ana ciasp your nanas, a nil sigh and sob with such desperation of impatience, for, I say notliiug you do not deserve to have.' 'Very well,' said Kate. 'I do not say your reproaches are undeserved. But granting I am the cold deceitful thing you call mo? 1 you know this state of things cannot contin- , ue.' ' Yea, I know it,' ' Well.' Mr. Wellington's brow gathered darkly? his eyes flashed ^rith determination?his lips curled with scorn. 41 have made up my mind,' said he, 'that we should not live together any longer. 1 am tired of being called the husband of the gay Mis. Wellington. I will move in my circle; you shall shine in yours. I will place no restraint on your actions, nor shall you on > mine. We will be free.' ' But the world 1' shrieked poor Kate I trembling. ' The world will admire you the name-1 | and what more do your desire f' asked her ; husband bitterly. 'This marriage of hand and not of heart, is mockery. We have | played the farce long enough. Few understand the true meaning of husband and wife; but do you feel that the only true union is that of love and sympathy ? | 'Then enough of this mummery. Farewell. I go to consult friends about the terms of a seperation. Nay, do not tremble and cry, and cling tome now. I shall bo liberal to you. As much of my fortune shall be yours as you desire.' lie pushed her from him: she fell upon ( the sola. From a heart torn with anguish j she skrieked aloud: 'Frank ! Frank ! why did I send you from j me ? Why was I blind until sight brought I me misery i' She lay sobbing upon the sofa, sobbing j and weeping passionately. Gradually her grief appeared to exhaust itself; her breathing became calm ; her eyes and cheeks dry; her head lav neneefillW mi liar arm nver I which swept her dishevelled hair tresses? until with a start she cried? 4 Frank ! oh, Frank, come back ?' 4 Here I am,' said a soft voice by her side. She raised her head. She opened her as* tonished eyes. Frank was standing before her. 'You have been asleep,' he said, smiling kindly. 4 Asleep V 4 And dreaming too, I should say?not pleasantly, either.' 4l)reaining f murmured Kate, 'and is all a dream ?' 'I hope so.' replied Frank, taking her hand. 4 You could not mean to send me away from you so cruelty, I knew. So I waited in your father's study, where I have been talking with him all of an hour. I came back to plcrnl my cause once more, and found you where I left you, asleep.' Oh ! what a horriblo dream,' murmured Kate, rubbing hor eyes. 'It was so like a terrible reality, that i shuuuer now to think of it. I I height I was married!' ^ 4 And would that be so horrible ?' asked Frank. 'I hope, then, you did not "dream you were married to me.' 4 No: I thought I gave my hand without my heart' 4 Then if you gave me your hand it would not be without your lioart No, Frank,' said Kate, her bright eve* beaming happily through her tears, 'and here ' it is.' 8ho placed her fair hand in his?he kissed it mi transport. " Ann soon there was a real marriage?not. a splendid but a happy one?followed by a i life of love and contentment; and that was1 the marriage of Frank Minot and Kate Yale. f (},lKvr T"* 7*" V-n'*^I'" # A h . Jfiisu'llantmui Uttifcing. i J) dlJoh>qn'3 dAiqpt^. j 4 TIiis is pleasant,' exclaimed the young ' (nutbnnd. takincr his seat oozilv in tlift rockim* jhair, as the tbnigs were removed. The fire flowing in the grate revealed a pretty, neat- ( :y furnished sitting room, with all the appliances of couofort. Tho fatiguing business of die day was over, and ho sat enjoying what | tie had been all day anticipating, the delights of his own fireside. Ilis pretty wife, [ listhcr, took her work and sat down by the table. 4 It is pleasant to liave a homo of one's t>wn,' be again said, taking a satisfactory survey of bis little quarters. The cold rain beat against tbe windows, and he thought he felt really grateful for his present comforts. 4 Now if we only had a piano,' exclaimed tho wife. 4 Give me the music of your own sweet voice before all tho pianos in creation,' he 1 declared, complimentary, besides a certain secret disappointment, that his wife's tliankfuluess did not happily chime with his own. \ i \VT?11 V...* e? J ' *? < n, uui nv ? aut, vuc *ur uur inenos, | said Esther. 4 Let our friends come to see us, and not to hear a piano,' exclaimed the husband. 4 But, George, every body has a piano now-a-dava?we don't go any where without seeing a piano," persisted the wife. 4 And yet 1 dont know what we want one for?you will have uo time to play on one, and 1 dont want to hear it.' 4 Why, they are so fashionable?I think our room looks nearly naked without out*.' ' I think it looks just right.' 41 think it looks very naked?we want a piano shockingly,' persisted Esther, emphatically. The hnsband rocked violently. 4 Your lamp smokes, my dear,' said he after a long pause. 1 When are you going to get an astral lamp ? I have told you a dozen times how much we needed one,' said Esther pettishly. 4 Those are very pretty lamps?I never can see by an astral lamp, said her husband. ' These lamps are the prettiest of the kind I ever saw they were bought in Boston. 4 But. Geonrc. 1 do not thiuk our room is complete without an astral lamp,' said iisther, sharply,4 They are so fashionable ! Why, i the Morgans, and the Millers, and many I might mention, all have thera ; I'm sure we ought to.' 4 We ought to, if we take pattern by other ntic's expenses, and I don't sec any reason int.' 1 4 We want to live as well as others,' said Esther. 4 We want to live within our means, Esther,' exclaimed George. ' 41 am sure we can afford it, as well as the Morgans, and Millers, and Thorns?we do 1 not wish to appear mean.' George's cheek crimsoned. 4 Mean ! I am not mean'.' he cried an4^Then we do not wish to appear so,' said the wife. 4 To complete this room, and make it look like others people's we want a piano and an astral lamp.' 4 Wu want?we want !* miittor<vl tlio lnu band ' there's no satisfying n woman's wants do what you may,' ana he abruptly left tlio room. IIow many husbands arc in u similar dilemma ! llow many houses and husbands rendered uncomfortable by tho constant dis satisfaction of a wife, with present comforts and present provisions. How many bright ' prospects for business hnvo ended in bankruptcy and ruin, in order to satisfy this secret hankering after fashionable necessaries i Could the real cause of niauy failures be known, it would be found the result from useless expenditure at home?expense to answer the demand of fashion, and 'what will people think I' My wife has made my fortune,' said a gentleman uf great possessions, 4bv her thrift, prudence and cheerfulness when 1 as just beginning.' ' And mine has lost my fortune,' said his companion, 4 by useless extravagance and repining when 1 was doing well.' What a world does this open to the influence which a wife possesses over the future prosperity of her family ! I^et tlu^wife know l?or influence, and try to use it wisely nnd well. ' Be satisfied to commence on a small scale. ?? c i??i jirio iyy v^uimuu IUI ^uuji^ llUUm'MT|?Ors M> j begin where their mother's ended. Duy all i tha( is ueccMary to work skillfully with; adorn your house with all that will make it comforts! do. Do not look at richer homes, and covet their costly furniture. If secret dissatisfaction is ready to spring up, go a step further and visit the homes of the suffering poor, l>eh?ld dark, cheerless apartments, iu smncient ciottnng, and alMcnco ot all the comforts and refinements of social life, and then return to you^wn with a joyful spirit. You will then be pWpnrid to meet youf husband with a great ful heart, and be reAdy to Appreciate the toil and self-denial which he has endured in the business world to stiMbund Cu witli the delights of home; and yoirwill readyte Co-operate cheerfully with him ' iu ?<> a^pging you* expense*, that his mind 4k - will not be constantly harassed with (ears lest his family expenditures may encroach upon public payments. Be independent; a young housekeeper never needs greater moral courage than she does now to resist the arrogance of fashion. Do not let the A's and B'b decide whnt you must have, neither let them hold tllo strings of your purse. You know best what you can and ought to afford ; then decide with a strict integrity according to your means. Let not the censure or approval of the world ever tempt you to ! buy whnt you think you hardly can afford. ] ft matters but little what people think, pro- . fiucu. you are truo to yoi^eu ana latuuy. flch)i)nce in ^ e t) I J-ifc. . A. few days ago there was a great excitement in the streets of this city, says the Yazoo (Miss.) Whig, 011 the report that a woman had just arrived in town on horseback, dressed in male attire. IIow it was found out that the person who attracted a great crowd around her was a woman, we do not know. Either her long hair, which escaped froiii beneath her fur cap, or her awkward walk did it, and she was betrayed. She inquired for one of our most respectable citizens, and he entered into conversation with her, told her that she was found out, and if sho would state to him tho motive which had prompted her to assume the disguise which sho wore, he would assist her in her enterprise, if it were a commendable one. She acknowledged herself to Mr. , telling him licr history, which is a siugularly interesting one. She is young, l>cnutiful and accomplished. Her father lives in a not far distant county, wherd she was married a year or two ago, much against his will, and also in opposition to that of her brothers. Some weeks ago the hushed came to Yazoo to seek employment, leaving his wife at home until he was settled. lie was absent some time, and the true heart of his trusting wife, though not changed by his absence, suffered pain and disquiet from it. An old neighbor met him one day in Yazoo city, and asked him if his wife was with him. He replied in a jocular manner that ho had no wife, bllt Wits irninortn inarri/vt ?n n , 0 ? ? e^. ** J vui.g widow of this place. The man to whom this remark was made, reported it to the brothers of the wife, and they armed themselves to come to Yazoo to seek summary vcngence upon the destroyer of their sister's pence. She, womanlike, did not believe a word of the report, and declared her determination to come in search of her husband. I ler brothers refused to lot her come, and, on her persisting locked her in an upper room at nifflit, inteiuliner to shirt themselves in the morning on their expeditou of revenge. Wiien nil wns still, she biibed a negro woman to bring her a suit of her brother's elothoa in which she dressed herself and descending through a window, got a horse from the stable, and started on her mission of love. Before the stern brothers awoke, their sister was far on her way to Ynzoo city. She arrived here at noon, almost worn out with fear and fatigue, but firm and fixed in her resolution to find her husbaud and save his life. The gentleman to whom she told her story, is a man of the kindest impulses, and just the one to assist a woman in such a predicament. He assisted her in every way she desired, and never left her till he delivered her safe and sound, to her truant, bur repentant husband. | The True way to Rise in the World. It is only hy plodding, active habits of industry, that we can hope to win our way through life. The race may be arduous, but it is one which will renav the eomnetitov ? Barrow justly say* : "A noble heart will disdain to submit like a drone upon honey gathered by other's labors, like a vermin, to filch its food out of the public granary ; or like a shark to prey upon the lesser fry; but will rather outdo his private obligations to other men's tare ami toil by considerable service and benifieence to the public; for there is no calling of any sort, from the sceptre to the spade, the management whereof, with any good success, any credit, any satisfaction, doth not demand much work of the head, or of the hands, ov of both. Milton, who during an active life in the most troublesome times, was unceasing in the cultivation of his understanding, thus describes his own habits : 44Those morning haunts -arc where they should be, at hom^, not sleeping or concocting the surfeits of au irregular least, but up and stirring : in Winter, often ere the sound of any boll awake men to labor or devotion : in Summer, as oft with the bird that first arouse* 1 or not much tardier, to road gpod authors, or cause them to bo read till tho attcut ion be weary or memory have its full fraught; then with useful and generous labor* preserving the body's health and hardinoss, to render lightsome, clear, and not lumpish ol>e<Hence to tho mind, to the cause of religion ami our country1* liberty." Any man who does not profit l>y such noble example is on enemy to the public veal. A JiTnnr. out West has decided that "kissing a body/ whilo " craning through the rye" is legal, "this has an important and interesting l>earing on tho ryo culture, and on the happiness of mankind* in gegeral. ^ U-' *' teftiqie EOuc^jitfri. '% No woman is oducnted, nays Burknap, wlio is not equal to the successful management of a family. Although it does not reniiirc so murh to nila ?? o- :* j t ?. ? - ? - ? ..V?wmiu.U oo it UUt? to govern a State, still ijt inquires talent of the same kind. As lie makes the best generaburliQ has begun at the lowest post, and passed up through every grade of office; as he makes the best admiral who enteVed the navy in the most inferior station; becauso they, and they alone, are acquainted with tlie whole cotnpitss of a subaltern*R duty? so that woman will manage a family with the greatest ease and efficacy, who knows, experimentally, the duties of every member of it. Daughters who neglect this part of education are entirely without excuse, and their mothers are still more to blame. The very apology which is often made for the neglect of it, is the greatest condemnation of those who offer it. It is said by those who aro growing up in ignorance cf these things, "Arty one can learn to keep houso when it is necessar^. Any one who loves her husband and is devoted to his interests, will make herself accomplished in those things after she is married." As well might the young rnau say, "O, what use is it for mo to learn a profession, or make mvself acnuaint otl with the details of my business ? \Vhen I am married, if I love ray wife, it will then bo time enough, to learn a profession, or accomplish myself in the details of business." Would there be any surer omen of total failure and discomfiture? That which a woman can learn to do under the tuition of love, can certainly bo learned to much greater advantage, under the tuition of a mother. If it is at all so easy to learn, then they certainly are utterly inexcusable who neglect it. It is no degradation to the finest lady to know all the details of domcstio affairs.? It is honorable, and ought to be her pride. A woman, though she may bo as beautiful as the morning, as wise as Minerva, and as accomplished as the Graces, ought to know the details of household affairs. Politeness involves in its very meaning the idea ot deception. It is a cloak or covering, a*polish of a naturally rough and coarso nature. It is to the mind what clothing is to the body. It conceals the nakedness of the thoughts. Now the nakedness of the thoughts is as shamelul as the nakedness of the body. Perhaps even more so. It would be difficult to institute a comIiarison between thorn. But every person mows from experience, that even death ijself would sometimes be preferable to the divulgence of thougliis that flicker through the mind, and necessarily and rrfuctantly absorb our attention. The exposure of these would be the exposure of a shame which would overwhelm the stoutest nerves, and bring the blood into the check, of the most hardened and insensitive. Politeness throws the mantle of concealment over this menttil slmine?it reveals only that which is worthy to be seen. It distinguishes between tho thoughts that^rc for ourselves alone and those which hire for society, and it expresses the latter, whilo it suppresses the former.? This is not a fault, but an aet of diserimina -I.. . . tavni, n luwu u uua nun ih^ WJ prUUlUMi JMJHCe, but happiness in society. And yet it is to a certuin extent an act of deception. There is conceal in on t of thought involved in it. We have withheld something. Wo havo flattered a little. We have given the most agreeable of thoughts, and have suppressed the most disagreeable. We have prcvnrica-' i ted. In An Ave have told what we do not think; vulgarly speaking, we have lied, but this word is too coarse to be applied to a* j species of falsehood so very common, and one which did not originate in any intention i to mislead for selfish or dishonorable ends. The Bov and the Bkick.?A boy bearing his father say "Twas a pottr rple that would not work bofh ways," said* "If faLhcr applies this rule to his work, I wfrr lest it in my play." So setting up a row of bri ks, three or four inches apart, ho tinted over the tirst, which, striking the seconaJcnu.-(*d it to fall ^on tho third, and bo on tnrougn mo wnoio'CDftrse, until all the brick* lay prostrat *. "Well," wiid the boy, "one1) brick La* knocked down his neighbor winch stood next to him; 1 only tipped one. Now 1 will raise one and Bee if he will raiso all the rest, lie looked in vain to see them rise. "Here, hither," said the boy, uis a poor rule ; 'twill network bdlh way*. They knock ' each ofher down, but will not raise eueiqaali| er up." ^ j ,4My son," paid tlie father, "briika and mnnKinu are auxe, mane 01 ciny, aonvc in knocking ?nck other down, but u?/t dispor/xl to help each Other up." jtt?Fath?;r," &aid the boy, "does the firut brick represent tlie first Adam /" Tl?e fnther trenlicd with the following: ) Mohau?"w hen men fall they love com1 pany ; hut when lh< v rise, they love to Aland i aldiie, like yonder brick, aud see others jprow1 irate and below thum.^ . ?; "w ?