The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, July 21, 1854, Image 1
*s* '' " ? __ ili^LS^^l^lK?^! fl*^? l:y^M?.
VOL 1. - GREENVILLE, S. C.: FRIDAY MORNING, JUL?*21, 1854. NO. 10.
gj_LL ?_^_ , ^ , . ... ,_im_ ? "' -
* iClje tivtexymt, ^
A REFLEX OP POPULAR EVENTS.
.^spJii&JWLsuiia !?
EDITOR Hit PROPRIETOR.
*. Jt. &W. rTpriceTp ubliahera.
SI 6ft, payable in advance ; $2 if delayed. ,
CUJBS of TEN and upwards SI* the money
ia every instance to accompany the order. -**
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at.
the rates of 75 cents per square of 18 lines, end
25'cents (or each subsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising made reasonable.
u.iuuil; i
^aetnj of tljt IStnrt.
ifoto %Fno? $ireah)&.
BY JOUV K UOLM*?. *
llovr many dreams can Hope supply '
b All gay as Summer's sunny morn;
I soo them in Lore's beaming eye.
Of earthly ones the sweetest born;
I hear the^ happy whispers thrown
a* k. a.. ??. u> *
4bv vwm un v?D Hiv/uil'IlL ?ir,
And know when two heart* bent alone
How jpany, many linger there.
How ewoftfc the eong the martin made >
To childhood's morn-attentive ear ;
How lov'd the oak'e autumnal shnde,
Tho quiot cottage standing near,
, Then life had nothing born in vain.
No shsdow'd path of ill to trace,
Tho heart aaug on, nor thonglit of pain,
Hope made for it s^weliing-plaeo. ^
A morning in the shady wood
Wbero stole tho balmy breath of spring,
Awhile enwrapt in thought I stood,
And heard again the blue-bird sing;
My heart made music to tho Song
Unmarr'd by any lone regret, . *
And I forgot how much of wrong
y hjnrt since childhood's hour hid met |
Swoetllopot be miue for evermore 1 *
With tender chartus my.hoart instill:
li j bright, as tkon wort bright before,
And lead rne at thy homeward will. .
Let shadow* lone remembrance raised '
Be ever baaish'd from my bfow,
A ^ I at A ffi-L A - - L . 1 - - 1 *
mm uiiu iii^n uuu wc purjiy prai ea
< Who has watch'J o'er my steps till now.
. -l'j.'j' . jj !. ,
JHiacllairons JUniiing. ,
qqD Qwd-?elidtothip.
Charity is a prominent feature iu Odd- 1
Fellowship., It is, in fact,, the foundation I
upon which the entire superstructure rests. *
We assemble nightly within our halls for I
the avowed purpose of diffusing the priuci- '
{>lea of Benevolence and Charity. The sub- *
ime lessons taught iu the precepts of our 1
time-honored Order, always inculcate Chari- '
ty! But do wo, as Odd-Fellows, properly 1
understand the term f Have we a just ap- '
preciation of what it really docs mean ? We '
<lo not believe that onr order is a charitable 1
institution, so far as the payment of benefits '
in time of sickness, or the conferring <# re- 1
lief in the hour of destitution and need, are 1
concerned. This is not Charity. It is only '
simple justice. It is only what you and I *
and B and C contract for; and it is that to <
which we are entitled of right, according to 1
the terms of our agreement. Wo associate 1
to relieve each other in sickness and in want, 1
and to make relief certain, we contribute a 1
small sum each week to create a fund, from
which we can draw relief when it is needed J
This is a matter of mutual protection? 1
nothing more. We understand the advan- 1
tages before we enter into the agreement, 1
and the contract stipulates that we shall re- !
ceive, from the fiind created by our joint
contributions, a sum sufficient at least to aid
us when aid is required. This is not Charity.
It is our right. It is merely a compliance
with the terms of one partnership, l et
ourt i? a charitable Order.
Let us, then, provoke the inquiry: What
is *jit*my I or what principle of Uharity is |
it that we dasirof that we are united to diffuse
i We answer: a principlo of cordial
good will to all men?a love tor our race?
a disposition to dogqod for the sake of tjoodiicu
alone. It Implies a desire on our port
to crush iti 'Our imperfect nature, all the uprisings
of malice, of hatred, of envy and revora$TAnd
to improve in our hearts thoae
tender emotions of lore, by which we are
?J a- ? . - - T ? ?
" jirumpieu to regard our neignoor a* oursolt
nnd to comrfder hh interest m identified
with our own. This is Charity! This is
that heavenly virtue which constitutes the
hspgha? of the "just made perfect,' and ia
the only tare foundation of man's p?ee^o*
us, in the inspired "volume, 'suffcreth long
and is lured," that 'envieth not,' that 'bear<>th
things* that 'vsunteth notiteeh^i*
- V y. 1
iL, iJL.
of those kindnesses which improve our condition,
and elevate and purify the nature to
which we are allied. Itfs that blessed spirit
which, while it prompts us to renovate the
virtuous, bids m 1
"Ifeal gently with the erring,"
and raise up the fallen by the "?iiU small
voice" of kindness and love! This is Charity?God
and his glorified saints livo ill its
etherial presence, and man approximates to
his Maker in exercising its power. This is
Charity?the Charity of Odd-Fellowship!
Dear reader, let it be yours and ours to
practice this charity day by day, and we
shall thereby reap an abundant harvest of
peace and joy.
1 i
* L . Th A _ ^
cL i?6 n <y ijs^su r * t i
8-lii* ijrii.
The London correspondent of the Washington
Union, sneaking of the new movement
connected with the war in the East,
has the following suggestions, which may explain
the future operations of the belligerents,
over which is now thrown so much doubt
and suspicion:
"The Russians will now probably withdraw
from the principalities altogether, and
cover their ignominy under a short simulated
war with Austria, whose monstrous ingratitude
eveu now would be a welcome bone of
contention to the Einporer Nicholas. Who
knows but that by this arrangement the Cxar
may not even save his crown and life, since
no other excuse for his apparent disgrace
might be acceptable to the Russian nobility
and army, who c.tn hitherto have but little
motives to be satisfied with the lose in blood
and fortune imposed upon them for the benefit
of the orthodox, but ft them mysterious.
policy of their chief. The arrangement will, j
at all eventa, erect a barrier between the chief
combatant*. The Turks will be unable to
profit from their victory, except by coming
into conflict with the Auatrians. The Turkish
government, we know, assents to it. The
Turkish army would thus become idle
from the absencej>f a hostile object. The
English and French might pretend to be
willing to take Sebastopol and the Crimea,
but then the Russians would not fail to throw
their eutire now disengaged force into that
fortress and province, not to speak of the objections
which might l>e raised by Austria
protesting and declaring that she was satisfied.
A casus belli is thus provided, not merely
between Turkey and Austria, but also eventually
between Austria and the western powers.
However, there is littlo ground to fear the
latter alternative, since the governmentwof
ETigland and Franco will onlp be too glad to
liave fresh pretext for inactivity. The operations
of war, will therefore, now be again at
an end, as far as the theatre of the Danube
principallies is concerned. Meanwhile the
'onfcrcnco at Vienna will reassemble, and
pass (ho time in devising fresh protocols and
noses for adjustment. The Russian, by their
ivacuntion will have Austria and Prussia entirely
in tiier favor, aud the boasting of Lord
John Russell about neccessary guarantees
igainst a recurrence of Russian aggression
will have been the more idle, as his owncbieC
Lord Aberdeen, declared only the oilier night,
tvith a truly cynical courage, that he would
i>e satisfied with any compromise which
promised a peace of something like twentyive
years, llut then, it is said, even for this
jbject it would be necessary to reduce at least
Sebastopol and toe Crimea, and to wring
this chief stronghold and force for mischief
from Russia. Very well; only the arrangement
with Austria will just enable Russia to
throw her whole force as garrison into the
menaced province, and to give to the allies a
warmer reception than they are prepared to
brave. Where Rossis is mmtilv miHuimmmJ I
is hor Georgian province ; but what k the loss i
or sacrifice of a few fortresses and an army <
to her, when she knows the conditions of i
|*?ace beforehand to be so settled as to render i
Iter everything she may have lost through i
arms!" i
? t
A Grkat Mans, Mother.---When Gene- <
ral Washington arrived at Fredericksburg, (
Va^ where his mother resided, on bis return I
from Yorktowu, in October, 1781, the peo f
pie came in crowds to greet him, but his y
mother, tliough proud of bar son, was uumov- 1
ed by the honors paid to him. When die
triumphal procession entered the town, she |
wss preparing yarn for the weaver of doth i
for her servants, and was thus occupied when j
her honored son entered the house. M1 am ]
glad to see you, George ; you have altered i
considerably," were her first words; and d?- <
ring the whole interview not a word wa? i
said by either of his glorious achievements. \
The next day she was visited by Lafayette, <
who spoke to her iu glowing language of the
greatness of her son. Her simple and memo- I
rable reply was, MI am not surprised, for i
Geary* tees always a good fay." <
Exuavaoakok!?-A |^cely mind wilt
rein a private fortune. Keep the rank in i
which Providence has planed you Mflpd do i
not make yourself unh&DOV Itemise vou j
'
' < # . H
*
* >/' 11
DJUs lod, ?.
Or?DISEASE OF TQEIIKAKT.
raoM the portfolio or a yocwq lawyer.
[From r new work, by Cousin Cicolv, in the
s>urM of publication by Burnett A. Bostwick,New
DeWnn,)
The days of my clerkship were ended; my
ixaminstion wu over; I wan admired; wrote
myself "Neheraiah Hubbs, Attorney ;w put
ip ray new bright little sign, and in ray naive
village began my professional career.
So, I did not either; I am mistaken. 1 in'ended
to pursue the honorable practice of
.he noble profession to which I had dedicated
my talents and learning, in the plaoe of my
t>irth ; but, never was truer word penned than
the time-honored proverb, "A prophet hath
no uonor in uu own country.'* I believe if I
lad remained in the village of Green Briar
till my head was white, *hey would have
thought of me as nothing but a boy, and
would have feared to, trust me. Even after
my sign was put up, nobody called me Mr.
Hubb*; I was still "iVe," with old and youn^,
md MiW I would have remained to to this
lay had I remained in Green Briar.
Only one casejelaimed my attention during
the three months of my patient continuance
in Green Briar, after being admitted to
the bar, and that was the case of an unjustly
impounded pig; "felouiously abstracted,
four honor, from the smalt but secure spot in
which my client had trustingly deposited
^im, and maliciously driven to the public en:le*ure
called a pound, for the vile purpose,
loubtless, of compelling my client, in his povj
ly and destitution, to pay the enormous fee
which has been demanded of him, in order
o extricate the animal from his unpleasant
position, and restore him to the bosom of
lis family P
By this, I meant the client's family, the
>ig having none of his own ; it was a figure
>f of spech undoubtedly, the family not in-1
labiting an Irish cabin, but still it roundel I
>ff the period, end sounded well to me, as I
epcated over and over again my maiden
ipeech, pacincr Up and down the floor of my
little office. In this, my first case, I was successful
so far as to rescue the impounded animal,
and save my client from the payment
)f an unjust demand ; but it brought no silrcrto
my pocket; neither, to my wfirprike,
lid it seem to bring honor to my name.
I'he eloquence of ray speech did not form the
heme, as I had fondly hoped it would, of
laragraphs in the village papers, or discusion
at the corners of the streets, neither did
t bring to my office the rush of clients for
s hich each day I vainly made ready. It
iras plain that I should never rise to distincion
in Green Briar, and so I came to the
udden determination to remove from that
>leasant spot, and settle in some great city
vhere nobody knew or had ever heard of me;
vhere, above all, there was not a soul to call
ue MJVV.n
There I was more successful, and soon had
he opportunity of forming a very advantageous
partnership; business increased; inouey
?egan to come in slowly at first, but after a
irae more plentifully, and all things seemed
in m?f nnl?owl nii>?iiin?t>n<>aa
Jut alas 1 as we arc so often told poetically,
here is not sweet without its bitter, no rose
without its thorn; and trouble came to me
n the shape of diseases, insidious, and slow,
n its approaches at first, long feared and sus>ected,
but at length betraying itself so plainy,
that I would blind inyaei? no longer to
he truth.
Yes! I was without doubt a victim of disease
of the heart; not metaphorically, dear
eader, for never had that organ beat with
i quicker pulsation at the approach or moral
woman : so tar as the gentler sex was ccnlerned,
I was a perfect utolic; but that thers
vas oiyanic disease about my heart, 1 could
tot doubt, and if ever the symptoms disclos
.1.? jjj ?
^ Mivu?n;iTw uiuiiwiMlVlVf iUVJf UIU BU 111
iiy case. There wm fluttering, pnlpitaiion,
regular action, and at length pain ; I could
tot work; life had lost its zeet; the fear of
Hidden death wae ever with me,?I could
rnjoy nothing. If I had anything to leave,
>r anybody to leave it to, I should have
nade my will, for 1 was quite sure now that
[ should either drop some day lifeless in the |
itreet, or that the morning would soon come,
when the j-ower to rise from my bed would
laveleft me.
I remained at my boarding house, and
bund no comfort in anything but my cigar,
ind ray dread disease grew worse and worse.
i\h yet I had consulted no physician, partly
I think from the apprehension of having my
rears confirmed; but as I sat by my window
me day, smoking as vigorously as ever gazing
abstractedly across the srteet, my attention
was arrested by a modest little sign upon
an opposite blind,?"C. h. Tod, M. L>."
While thinking whether or not it would be
best to make trial of a physician's skill, a
tudden tinge and flutter decided me; yea, 1
ttrr^aat/t ann/T fW Tru4 avwl IrnAW tKa WAret
it once!
Summoning Che only malt errnut belonging
to the eataotbhoMnt, I told him to Map
ciotM end Mk Dr. Tod to come and we bid
m soon m possible. , 4* : .
TV boy grinned. mtYdl n"*1^
*WVl are you Iiuigbing attH I asked, *Sa
"I bdlor# she
' I ^ ^
lf >; 3*r% I * .y.
k a very good physician, but i^ha'nt never
tended iNibody here."
"Shr /" ^n?d I to myself, "the boy surely
hae Welch blood in his veins, they always
I she verv thing."
The boy soon returned, saying, "the Dr.
was'nt to home sir, but I left your name on
the slate."
In the course of tho afternoon, as I lay
upon the sofa, with mv hand pressed upon
my bead, to still its irregular pulsations, there
was *aoft tap at my door. "Coma in," I
sailed out, and, to my surpsiac, in came the
neatest, brightest, most cheerful looking little
woman it had ever been my lot to meet
| "You sent for me, I believe sir 1" she said
I in a quick, brisk, pleasant way.
| "I no madam,?you are laboring under
I a mistake."
"A 1 I beg pardon," said the little wo[
man, "I found on my slate the same of Mr.
j Hubbe, number fourteen, Mr.Grey's boarding
house." with a wwiiMt that T wahM ??li ?
see him f
"Your slate ? madam ;" I exclaimed, my
astonishment increasing every moment; "you
surely are not a?n
"Physician! yes sir, she interrupted quickly;
"I am a physician ; Dr. Tod.
"Extraordinary!" was all I could say, for
though I bad heard as a distance of the existence
of such beings, this was my first introduction
to a female practitionerof the Esculapian
art. It was rather awkward, but since she
bad home, I determined to make the best it,
and acquaint the lady Doctor with my case.
She felt my pulse; asked numerous
questions as to my symptoms, and then, iu
her quick, b ight way, exclaimed.
" Nervous! nervous! that's all, depend upon
itl excuse roe, sir, but by the air of your
room, I presume you are much given to smoking."
I plead guilty.
"And how many cigars do you usually
smoke in a day!
I could not tell; I never counted; as soon
as I threw away one I took another, usually.
" Hum ! cigar in your mouth pretty much
all the time, enl Chew, too 1"
I Again a reluctant confession was wrung
IIVUI 1UU.
* 1 presume you sit up late, smoking all
the time ?"
"Yes ma'am, smoking and reading.**
" That's it! no disease of the heart, at all,
sir; nothing but tobacco, depend upon it;
nothiug but tobacco; it'll make you fancy
anything; it'll drive vou crazy, if you don't
take care. Now, will you promise to follow
my advice closely, or not? if not, I will take
my leave immediately."
I promised, submissive as a lamb.
M In the first place, then, throw away all
Jour cigars and tobacco; and promise to
uy no more."
With a sigh, given to my sole consola->
tions, I said I would do as he directed.
Many more directions she gave roe as to
diet, exercise, early hours, Ac.; perhaps she
saw too that cheerful companionship was
one thing I needed, and so she remained
awhile, talking with ?reat glee and spirit,
about matters and things in general; and
promising to call and see me the next morning.
She 1 :(L
I have not felt so well in a great while,
indeed I had not given my heart a thought
since the little woman entered my room.
The next morning I found myself watching
impatiently for the arrival of my little
Doctor. She came bright and cheerful as the
J l L.A - A, IZssl. ?1
U*y IKiure, wiihv ? pcneti nine guuucun.
she was ! I oould not help growing better under
bcr care, and the influence other cheering
presence, and yet I managed to contrive
some ache or pain every day, as an excuse
for the continuance of her visits.
At length I found that my heart, which
had long been quiet and apparently free from
disease, l?egnn to flutter and palpitate again,
but I observed it was only when I heard, the
little woman's tap at my door, or felt her
soft Angers on my wrist. In short, as she
had di rtven the disease out of my heart, that
little woman herself had watlced into it. I
oould no longer blind myself to the fact; and
when she one day told me that I was now
off the sick list, and out of her hands, I determined
that die should not so easily get
out of mine.
So I told her that as she had now given
ease to my heart in one respect, she must not
leave me tiii she had done so in another, or
I should be worse off than 1 was before. The
little woman look perplex cu.
Then I stated my case, and explained my
symptoms a second time; showing her the
distressed state of my heart and she atone
oould cure it. The former disease she had
removed by an occasional visit, the latter
could only be cured by her promising to
come and take uj> her abode with me, as "resident
physical*. She understood me now,
and by the way ahe pressed her bend or
her own little fluttering heart, one would
have thoucrht the disease was oontatrious
nd I verity think it waa. Bo now we do
termined to euro each other, and next weel
we are both to apply to a clergyman, whi
js to form between us a life-partnership, a
lawyer and physician.
But one thins;: troubles me, of which I hat
not thought till now; that it Js necessary 01
have our cards engraved, Married people
arc usually "Mr. and Mrs. So and so," U
aflMB
L mffm J
' > "Mm* 1
''Mr. Such a one end lady," but will any
one please to be eo kind as to tell me, how I
and ray little wife are to be designated. Will
it be "Mr. and Dr. Hubbs," or "Mr. and Mrs.
Hubbs, M. D?" or as the ladies are going
ahead so fast in these days of Woman's
Rights, will I sink into still lower i significance,
and shall we be "Dr. Tod and ffmtlerr
a i!" or must I drop the name of Hubb<
altogether, and become a Tod, too 1 Somebo
y, please tell me, how to have there card*
engraved 1 It is a point that ought to be
settled. The ladies are running to the pulpit,
and even to the bar, very inauy of them are
alroady in the medical profession, and till a
man has made up his miud what position he
is to take when ne has a miuister, or a lawyer,
or a doctor for his wife, let him guard
well his heart, and above all, if that organ or
any other is diseased, let him beware how he
employs a "lady for his leech."
"1 &ojTf
Now don't say you don't cam, because you
do. For what else have you beeu twining
those pretty curls till there is not a ruffled
hair upon their surface! For who else would
you wear that shining knot of blue ribon, the
color he likes so well! and the very little
keepsake of red coral that fairly flutters upon
that white muslin !
If you don't care hie away to mother's
room ;?there is plenty to do there.
Your guitar stands neglected: the white
pearl buttons, like gems, stud the glittering
foil in your neat work-basket, and the patient
bosom is waiting the aid of your fairy fingers
to sew them on. There is the book
with the leaf folded down where you left off
at dark. Father sits in his accustomed place,
very willing to hear your voice and sighing
sometimes when he thinks how soon it may
warble in another home.
But no; you have been with father and
mother for eighteen long years, and love has
let down gently before them, the face, the
form the heart of another. And he is late to
night 1
UI don't care."
But ves you do care. Taking quick marches
between the glass and wtnaow, sitting
down for a moraeut and playing pettish music
with your foot, springing up with rosy
blushes at every footstep, (even at old black
Cato's) fancying it may be him ; does that
loolr as if vnu didn't mi* I ttathof mina.
tionable symptoms.
"Should think he might come."
So should I. He ought to come; he \rould
come if he knew what a little fever of expectation
you was in. Ho would perhaps
fall right on his knees, though if he does, reject
him, for he cannot have a manly excuso.
Could he only ftee you now !
For there you stand looking so wistfully
down towards that little white lattice gate,
watching unconsciously how the moonbeams
drink the crimson from the roses. Never
heeding the low bewildering music of the
willow dulcimers, or the floating spraya that
fan the wild flowers to sleep.
"I don't care!"
Truly spoken that time.
The water of the river gleams beyond like
a solid mass of silver, and now and then a
transitory lustre flashes athwart the heavens.
A star shoots. Quick! the wish thrice repeated,
as you watch it falling, that he may
come soon.
Oh! how strange .1. A the glories of heaven
and the beauty of the earth should all be
made subaerviea. U hat young heart's first
love.
A shadow falls on the white path; a tall,
manly form stoops to the latch of the little
gste. He is coming, he has come. And
there you sit looking so unconcerned and
proper, as if it was the most natural thing
in the world to expect him just then.
The song that you "couldn't sing" for
father, is repeated at hit request. Ah!
naughty child, naughty child; hut loving
woman, for all that.? Olive Branch.
Womeh.?The following passage is from
'Rural Hours,' by Mi.** Cooper, daughter of
the late Fennimore Cooper. It beautifully
expresses the sentiments of all women of
pure feelings and correct principles:
We American women certainly owe a
debt of gratitude to our countrymen for their
kindness and consideration of us generally.
Gallantry may not always take a graceful
form in this part of the world, and inere
flattery m iy be worth as little here as elsewhere
; but there is a glow of generous feeling
toward women in the hearts of rooet
American men, which is highly honorable
to them as a nation and a* individuals. In
no country is the protection given to worn1
an's helplessness more full and free; in no
country ia the assistance she receives from
> the stronger arm so general; and nowhere
1 does her weakness meet with more forbearI
1 !J IT.Aii.'h i'ir.
Slice KI1U WIIMUCrnuwu. vmni ? ?
? cumstanoes, it must be noin?n'? own fault
* if she be not respected mho. The position
1 accorded to her w favorable. It remains for
> her to fill it in a manner worthy of her own
sear, gratefully, kindly and simply; with
truth and modesty of heart and life; unwaI
eering fidelity of reeling and principle; with
r patienoe, cheerfulness and sweetness of tern
i per?no unfit return to those who smoott
? the daily path for her.
A little Heathen Boy and hie fitter* J
"I was much affected" says the Roe. Mr.
French, a missionary among'the Mahratte*^
in India, "by tlie following incident which
occurred in the temple at PirapulWUttdeei;
A little boy, about teu year* of age, accompanied
by two girls smaller than himself, bu
sisters probably, came to pay their devotions*
[ Tbo little boy, in a etate cf almost entire
nudity, first washed the idol with water, and
then put a little rod paiut on his forehead,
shoulders, and breasts. Thisbving done, he
tn/ilr 4l>? 1S..1- ~-l ?
?v/? nviM mo iiKic ^111 qmpvpiuau uu*TW|
which lie laid in varioui places oil tlie idol; 0
and, to crown, all, he threw, after several ineffectual
attempts, the idol being taller than
himself, a string of flowers over his head.
Having finished this part of the ceremony,
the three pitiable little creatures commenced
circumambulating and bowing to the sense4
less object which they had thus early been
taught to regard as their ?od? I *as much
affected, I say, in witnessing this scene, and
was led to reflect how different are the circumstances
and prospects of the dear children
of my native land. Tliero the infabt mind
is trained in the principles of virtue and salvation.
Here it is initiated into the mysteries
of iniquity, and swallowed up in the darkness
and superstition of idolatry. But it is a
blessed thought, to be apprehended only by
faith, however, that the infanta of India shall
one day speak forth the praises of Immanueh
The Lord hasten that day in his own good
time."
Heathen parents take their very young
children to the temple of one idol and teach
tlioin hour fn iwiur n .. rl 1. ^ n>jt nnJ
"V" %vr w*? auu AUCCI) UUU TT C?uf nuu
perform tlie other ceremouies which ere required
in the worship of that idol. At another
time they take them to the temple of
another idol and teach them how to worship
that, and soon through all the multitude of
their idols; and thus they train their children
up to all the wickedness and fidelity of idol
worship.
A Persian Garden.?On my first entering
this bower of fairy land, (indeed I may
call it the very garden of beauty) I was
struck with the appearance of two rose-trees
full fourteen feet high, laden with thousands
of flowers, in every degree of, expansion,
and of a bloom and of scent that imbued
the whole atmosphere with the most exqui- m
sites perfume. Indeed, I believe that in no ff
country of the world does the rose grow in
such perfection as in Persia; in no country
is it so cultivated and prized by the natives.
Their gardens and courts are crowded with
its plants, their rooms ornamented with va?.:.v
?.1 .j ?..._ii? ?j
uiivu mui iw ^rnurrcu uuuuura, ana
every path strewed with the full blowu ? ;
flowers, plucked from the ever replenished
stem. Even the humblest individual who
pava a piece of copper money for a few whiffs
of kalioun, feels a double enjoyment when he
finds it stuck with a bud from his deaj^native
tree! But in this delicious garden of
Ntgaurittau the eye and the smell were not
the only senses regaled by the presence of
the rose. The ear was enchanted by the
wild and beautiful notes of multitudes of
nightingales, whose warblings seem to increase
in melody and softness with the unfolding
of their favorite flowers; verifying
the song of their poet, who says,44 When the
roses fade, when the charms of the bower
Are paused away, tlie fond tale of the nightingale
no longer animates the scene;"? Sir
Robert Portcr% in 1820;
Remkdt fo:. Cholera.?The following
extract from the letter of a clergyman to the
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, presents a very
simple, and, he says effectual preventive of
cholera, as well as a remedy of great power:
The preventive is simple?a teaspoonful
of powdered charcoal taken three or four
times a week, in a cup of coffee or other
liquid in the morning. When Attacked
with cholera, a mixture of an ounce of charcoal,
an ounce of laudanum, and an ounce
of brandy or other spirits, may be given as
f^tlnua oftar Koinrr tunll A a ?
I "Via oiiaivcil* XX l^n*
' spoonful even* five minutes. In half an hour
I have known this effectually to relieve and
stay the disease. As the patient become# ^
better, the mixture inay be given at longer
intervals, I have known a patient in the
bine stage, and collapsed, perfectly recovered
in a few hours.
The charcoal was tried as a preventive ok
n large plantation in the- Maritfus, fend not
a single individual out of 800 Iras attacked
with cholera;
.. .
Preparation1 for Death.?When yon
lie down at uight, compose your spirits as if
you were uot to awake till the heavens be no
murvt miu "IIVH ^11 IU IUO lUUIIUl)^,
consider that new day ah your last, and live
accordingly. That night oometh of which
you will never seo the morning, or that naprning
of which you will never soe the ?
Let the mantle of worldly enjoyment hang
loose about you, that it may be easily dropped
when death comes to carry yoa into an,
other world. When the fruit w ripe, it fall#
, off the tree easily; so when a Christian's heart
, is truly weaned from the world, he is prepay*
. ed for death, aad it will bo more easy for
. w*.
i The Artesian well in Charleston is 1,160
feet detp aad they are still boring deeper,
ifytT* ?V