'
: VOL. L _ 1
~ fr ^mttljent trttrpri0t,
A^REFLEX OK rOPULAIl EVENTS.
4 NsrawwiAUin s>- n?aun?a,
tBlTOR AND rSCfAIETOR.
tT. J. ft W. P. Price, Publisher*.
$1 *0, payable in advance ; $3 if delayed.
CLUBS of TEN and upward? $1, the money
In every Distance to accompany the order.
ADVEETIHEMENTB insertod conspicuously at
the rate# of 7ft eenta per aqnare of 13 lines, and
3fi cent* for each subsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising made reasonable.
For tki Boathtm EnttvpiUt.
? 3 D s figone.
BT OXJt STA.
0?* I was lone ?tho' earth and shy
Were with rich joys and beauties fraught;
I passed them all with vacant eye,
For earth and heaven to me were naught?
My soul was tortured with?" Alone!"
In those unbappy days agonc I
What eared I tho' the flowers ware gay,
And song-birds cheered eaeh shaded spot,
I longed for human sympathy,
And birds and flowers could give it not.
This was to me a world of moan
And life a load, in days agone.
When darknese vailed my spirit's sky,
When woes and cares began to press,
I knew not where to turn mine eye,
For mine was utter loneliness.
I bore what few could boar ? and none
Could bear alone, in days agone 1
Tale Pain sat monarch in my breast,
And o'er my soul her shadow threw,
A Memory was her mournful guest,
A I JL_t A AL l ?1 T t
n unn iicr ineiiu. aii I wen A Knew
What woe it wh to be alone,
"* In aorrow-hauntod days ago no {
But lot upon ray pathway gleamed
A faoo of bsouty proud and free,
Bolt smiles npon me gently beamed,
And thore waa rapture e'en for tue I
I could not bear to be alone,
Bo loved this face in days agouo 1
I met an eye whoee depths were lit
With holy lore and lovely thought,
I saw o'er fairest features flit
A light from sinless angels caught
I heard a voice ? its rapturous tone
Thrilled thro' my soul in days agonel
What was this being like f A star
Hung iu the glittering dome of niglit,
Oased on by mortals from afar
With awe, and wonder, and delight I
A sunbeam o'er the darkness thrown.
My beacon thro' the days agonel
After I met that gentle eye,
And gazed upon that brow of snow?
And hoard that witching melody
Of that sweet voice so soft snd low?
I felt no longer left and lone,
And life had eharms in days agonc!
Broken woe Sorrow's long, long dream,
I shook the darkness front my soul,
I Ml the glow of Pleasure's beam?
T L-1J I L .?t.
m.MTV una IUQ in m IWQOt CVUMTW ;
A fsee, mile, > glance, a tone,
Wed me to life in dsy* sgone!
QrtnvilU, Aug. %% 1804.
Sin flnraahtg $krtrlj.
diiidoto f ifz 8Ilen.
i
BY OftCAK DUMAR.
Some months sine? I chanced to be riding
in a chaise on the road from N., a shire town
of some importance. This mode of travelling
I always adopt whenever practicable. It *?
far better, to my taste, than to be whirle<
through the country pent up in a close car
at a rate which precludes enjoyment of sight
seJng I?> addittor to this, a railroad is gen
orally located in the most unattractive portioi
of these towns through which it passes.
For these reasons, unless particularly bur
ried, I usually eschew railroad cars and cling
to toe eld fashion methods of travelling.
So much by the way of introduction am
explanation. , .
* The scenery ow either side of the roed ore
which I was passing being of a very aUrac
tire cbanfcter, I checked my horse to a wall
3U> &iut of us at some little distance I pei
ceived a woman respectably dressed, wh
was walking slowlv momt and tumhur mm m
oasloastoinne back upou me as if 7Le be
something to My.
She gradually sleekened her pece ?iU(
preached, ud when fairly within hearing, ir
quired whether I bed any objection to tab
her in the chime with me.
Being naturally gallant, I could not d
oUnnme than comply with the reauest froi
^Mojnriouro*. Of course I informed her th?
? nothing woukI aflutyl me greater sattofactioi
. ? ^ V- r>
* {. \
< ^
i' mi rinrririiui ii
i??*BQUA
WT V&vW'Vi* ?<*? t 9 11
i r ii
LLE, S. C.: FRIDAY
t JtSmtltinraiifl Hrflfiiug.
Trri ' w-r--r?---?- Trr.- 'ig-r-'T-n?
Hi e 411 do Fade qs q JLeqf. r
Speak to that old man as he goes bending t
downwards upon his staff; 'Father! why so 1)
unsteady thy gait t Why this staff to sup- l
DOrt thv tottenmr fmmnl A n.l Kio ? < ??> n
%
i mmt^m
GREENYI
? ^--f?~?mmm^mmmmmm^9**1
In trice 1 whs roiling over tbe highway with
an unknown lady by my side.
I bad an opportunity to scan ber features,
which I did furtively.
She was what would be called rather pretty,
neatly but richly dressed, while from ber
neck susj>ended by a guard, hung a gold
watch. She took it out once to learn the time
which gave mc an opportunity to remark that
it was of very costly workmanship.
"You must think," said she, altera pause
"that I have made rather a singular request
of a gentleman with whom I am totally unacquainted."
"Not in the least, Madam" said I politely.
"Nevertheless I feel bound to give some exCanation
of this step in my own justification.*
y name is Mrs. hits Allen."
"An aristocratic name thought I. I wonder
whether she's a widow."
"I am somewhat of an invalid, in consequence,
as my physician tells roe, of my talking
too little exercise* lie has thereforo directed
me to walk three hours through the
day.
In conformity with his direction I set out
this morning with the design of walking to
M.- , but found after a while that I had
miscalculated my strength, and resolved to
throw myself upon the generosity and kindness
of the first passer whom I thought I could
rvtnflllo in T nm Olirn fanrn ?rn"? owtvftnnav-rwi
wmmw m. mu* nui v liviu J VUI Mll^ |
sir, thnt I am not mistaken judging you to I
be of good character."
I felt exceedingly flattered at what I rightly
judged to be ir.tended as a compliment,
and begau to esteem myself in luck at having
encountered the fair lady >vlio had placed
herself under my protection. *
We kept up nn animated conversation,
which however, was now and then interrupted
by Mrs. Fits Allen bending forward and
looking back over the side of the chaise.
Supposing that she was desirous of seeing
more of the country than could bo observed
from a covered carriage, I offered to let down
the chaise top, but she remonstrated so earnestly
against this proceeding, that 1 was fain
to let things remain as they were.
Meanwhile I had become more and more
pleased with my companion, and began to
consider luaKeamestly whether she was likely
to be a widow.
For the phrpose of ascertaining this I resorted
to a very ingenious fabrication as follows.
"It would be singular," remarked I, carelessly,
if it should chance that your husband
and I are old acquaintances. 1 used to know
a \Cf? Tlonru Fit** A lion uiIiA woo T mtmatn
ww *r?t( AkiMiy Jk IV? i.&kiuu nuv n (W} It i IQUlOUi"
her rightly, a-a-a lawyer."
"No, 1 don't think it could have been the
one. My husband died some years since.
Deride his name woe Robert, and he was a
me reliant."
"I had gained the information, I desired,
I need not say that Mr. Henry Fitz Allen,
the lawyer, whom I had mentioned, was
quite an apocryphal personage.
I l>egan to consider whether it would not
be worth while to follow up the acquaintance,
when the widow afterwards inquired, with
visible agitation, whether I wouldn't drive a
little faster.
To this I had not the least objection. 1
therefore laid on the whip, and tho horses
bounded forward at a rapid pace.
"I like to ride fast," said my companion,
in explanation of her request, "it is so exhilarating.
I thiuk there is no enjoyment like
that of riding rapidly,"
"I sgreo with you perfectly," said I, "it is
a favorite reoreation of mine."
The sound of wheels are heard behind us.
"Couldn't you drive a little faster i' asked
Mrs. Fitz Allen.
! I was about to apply the whip once more
when I heard a shout to stop from behind.
44No, do not stop," said my companion,
i "lie don't want anything with you."
I was puzzled, and was about to follow
her advice, when the words were repeated in
a more authoritative tone
"Stop! I command you in the name of
the law."
I The instant Afterwards a constable drove
up.
I "What do you want with me T I asked
j in astonishment.
' "Nothing with you. But I have something
' to do with Mrs. Saunders, who is with you.
p "I know nothing of Mrs. Saunders," said
" I. This lady is Mrs. Fitz Allen, and is un1
der my protection."
"Mrs. Fits Allen!" retorted the constable
w bursting into a loud lough. "Well, she was
J Mrs. Saunders only this morning. However,
whatever her name is, she must come with
i mew"
"With you?what for!" asked I, dewilderr
ed.
tlAn a Amim nf atMlinn > w/Jil an A
r vu n \ upi fS 99 k'mm nmv?i| miu
c. a dozen silver spoon*. J list hand 'em over.'
v With a great deal of reluctance the %dy
o took off the watch and drew out of her pocket
a dozen silver spoons, and oonsigned thein
d with herself to the charge of the constable.
Advising me to beware of keeping bad
>- company, he drove off, and I haven t seen the
i- fascinating Widow since. I was told, howe
ever, that she was sentenced to six months
confinement. I am still a bachelor.
o
n IIow short is hntnan life 1 The very
^ breath which frame my words, accelerates
o my death.?
# j , ^ ?.. ...ay ? **??W UIO miOltUf
will be, Son, I once trod the earth with a step c
that was elastic, with tlie buoyancy of youth, a
and steady in the strength of manhood. This
old mortality was once erect, and this with- li
ered heart was joyous in the prospect of happiness
that opened upon my hopeful vision, h
But years of toil and sorrow have passed ov- f
er tue, the energy of life has become cnfcc- u
bled, the shadow of the dark valley is gath- a
oring about me. I ain passing away.' 0
Look upon the face of that infant, sleeping
hi death's cold embrace; that impersonation n
of innocence, beautiful oven in tie paleness
that tells of coming corruption, and ask, *
'what means this stillness I Where is the 1
life that yesterday dawned in those windows
of the soul t and where have gone the child- *
isli prattle and tlie happy smile, which glad- <
dened the hearts of those whose lives were *
almost bound up in its existence ?' And
there comes an answer from the tears of <
grieved affection,?Tt has passed away.' 1
lXMiokJ that guy band of pleasure's child- 1
rcn as they revel in the intoxication of earthly
bliss I flow gracefully th'eir limbs move to <
tne sound of the viol and the harp! IIow i
merrily rings the laugh, and how brightly <
flashes tho eyes that meet! Listen to the
strains of that music, shedding a bewitching f
influence that brings a spell ujion tho soul! <
Can dull care ever enter thatcharmod circle? '
Can sorrow evor dry up those fountains '
where now issues joyous delight ? Come and
look again where time and change have done <
their work. The sounds of revelry have ceas- *
ed ; the brilliant lights and the glittering jewels
are gone, and the stillness which broods *
over yonder quiet earth mounds, says they j
hnve passed away.' And will it over bo so? ?
Will the trail of the serpent' bo always found
amongst the flowers that bloom iu the garden
of human happiness ? Will there never
comes an end to the curse which has followed
the eating of that fruit, whose mortal taste ,
brought death into our world, and all our (
woe ? Shall weeping and pain and death |
have an eternal dominion ? Hark I there
come a voice from Heaven, sweet and clear '
as the melody that rings from angels hard (
strings. 'And I saw a new heaven and a (
new earth, for tho first heaven aud tho first
earth were passed away, and there was no
more sin. Aud I, John saw the holy city,
New Jerusalem, coming down from God out
of Ileavcn prepared as a brido adorned for
her husband. And I heard a great voice out
of heaven, saying, the token made of God is
with men and lie will dwell with them
aud bo their Qod. And God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes, aud there shall be no
more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither
shall there be any more paiu, for the former
tilings arc passed away.'
Faoikbcl
?otlr{j iijlo iife.
A man entering into life ought accurately
to know three things. Firstly, where he is.
Secondly, where ho is going. Thl.dly. what
he had best to do under these circumstances.
First where he is?that is to say, what sort
of a world he has got into; how large it is;
what kind of creatures live in it, and how ;
what it is made o? and what may be made
I .#)> a 11- ?i ? ? * 1 *
01 it. occouoiy, wnere is ne going?that is ;
to say, what chances of reports there are of '
any other world besides this, what seems to
the nature of that other world, and whether I
for information respecting it, he had better '
c6usulttlie Bible, Koran, or Council of Trent, '
Thirdly, what he had better do under these ,
circumstances?that is to say, what kind of
faculties he possesses; what are the pres- 1
ent state and wants of mankind; what '
is his place in society, and what are the read- !
iest means in his power of attaining happiness
and diffusing it The man who knows
these things and who has had lift' will so j
subdued in the learning them, that is ready !
to do what he knows he ought, we should
call educated and the man who knows them 1
not, is uneducated, though he could talk all '
the tongues of Rable.
? 1 i
11a Wnx Give roc Rkrt.?Are you trav 1
ailing with sorrow t Are you heavy-laden 1
with the burden of oppression or woe I?
Christ will give you rest Doubtless the
heavy-laden with the burden of sin are first 1
invited, but they exclude no other sufferers.
There is no exception of age,or rank, or dimo,
the extent of trevail, or the weight of the burden
; the childish sorrows of the weeping
schoolboy are as much tho subject of the 8a
tor's sympathy a* the matured wretchedness
of the aged man; nil ootne within the
Savior's invitation.?II. Blumt.
No sin is great but the satisfaction of
Christ and his mercies are greater; it is beyond
oornparstion. Fathers and mothers, ;
in tenderest affections, are but beams nnd
trains to lead us upward to the infinite mercy
of God iu Christ. *
' r .
MORNING, SEFTEM1
& isconce iff.
How universal it is. We never knew the
nan who would say "I am contented " Go
rhere you will, among the rich or the poor,
he man of competence or the man who earns
lis bread by the daily sweat of his brow, you
tear the sound of murmuring and the voice
f complaint. The other day we stood by a
ooper, who was playing a merry tune with
n AilvA rrmrwl o iw?lr "IR" .1
? ?. ? VIVB. Allf DIgUVU UU)
initio w a hard lot?forever trotting round
ike a dog, driving at a hoop.*
"Heigho r sighed a blacksmith, one of the
iot days, as ho wiped away the drops of perpiration
from his brow, while the mi hot
ron glowed upon his anvil, "this is life with
vengeance?melting and frying one's self
ivor the fire."
"Oh, that I were a carpenter!" ejaculated
i shoemaker, as he bent over his laps tone.
Here I am, day after day, working my soul
iway in making soles for others, cooped up
n a seven by nine room."
"I aiu sick of this out-door work," exclaims
lie carpenter, "boiling and sweltering unlcr
the sun, or exposed to the inclemency of
.he weather. If I was only a tailor 1"
"This is too bad," perpetually cries the tail>r,
"to be compelled to sit perched up here
[dying the nocdle all the while?would that
nine was a more Retire life."
"Last day of graco; the banks won't disjouot;
customers wont pay; what shall 1 do?"
grumble* the merchant. "1 had rather be a
ruck horse, a dog?any thing."
"Happy fellow," groans the lawyer, as ho
tcrntches his head over some perplexing ease,
>r [ores over some dry record ; ' happy felow
! I had rntherjhammcr stone than cudgel
? ?t.:~ *~i:? ? ?
tnon rule of credit not running lieyoud six I
months?for which credit we have to pay
advance prices and interest?why not, even
at some brave sacrifice, contrive to get so far
the start of custom as to pass by this perpetual
credit system, and from that point, beginning
with the world anew and even, keep
even by paying as wo go. It would be infinitely
cheaper, bettor, and more independent
for us all. If we can ever pay, why not at
onco?now 1 Will it be easier when interest
is added to principal ?
The rich have no excuse for not pacing as
thoy go, though, to their shame be it said,
they are oftcnest the ones to decree misery
and ruin by the credit thoy use?or rather
abuse?in their business intercourse with the
world. They, by withholding the honest
dues of the laborer, the mechanic, the merchant
and the professional man, all poor communities
become a tangled net, whose threads
of affiliation are standing accounts, notes,
bonds and mortgages, suits at law, judgments,
and executions. Ifthose who are(eminently a}>le
to pay as they go,were to be just and pay
thus, the credit system which now makes
ono-half of society dependents and slaves,
would be mainly swept away. The middle
man and tho poor man are driven to the wall
by the system ; they can bo pushed and pursued
under obligation with impunity ; hut
your man of means, your rich man, who
dares to remind him of a debt ??ho "will
pay when he gets ready."
No one who observes and reflects on this
subject, can deny the truth of the picture we
hnve drawn. The evils of the credit system,
which now pervades every department of
business and all the trade intercourse of society,
are great and overwhelming. The poorer
classes most especially feel them so. The
aj UIIUII Ull U1IO UAJIUUA, f<?nilUU-1 IfUCSUOU.
And through all the ramifications of society,
all .arc complaining of their condition
?finding fault with their particular calling.
'If I were only this, or that, or the other, I
ihould be content, anything but what I atn,"
s the universal cry. So wags the world, so
t has wagged, and so it will wag.
Blrqii) qq 0 IljougM.
Richmond mentions the case of a woman
whose brain was exposed in eoiise^ucnec of
the removal of a considerable portion of its
bony covering by disease. IIo says he repeatedly
mado pressure on the brain, and
each time suspended all feelings and all intellect,
which were instantly restored when
die pressure was withdrawn. The samo
writer also relates another case, that of a
man who had been trepanned, and who perceived
his iu'elleetual faculties failing, and
iiis existence drawing to a close, every time
the effused blood collected upou the brain so
is to produce pressure.
Professor Chapman, of Philadelphia, men.ions,
in his lectures, that he saw an iiulividjal
with his skull perforated, and the brain
exposed, who was accustomed to submit
liuiself to the same experiment of pressure
is tho above, and who was exhibited by the
ate Professor "Wester to his class, llis intellectual
and moral faculties disappeared on
he application of pressure to the brain ; they
s-efe held under the thumb, as it were, and
restored at pleasure to their full activity bv
iiaoontinuing the pressure, llut the most
extraordinary case of the kiud within my
knowledge, ami ono peculiarly interesting
to the physiologist and metaphysician, is
related by Sir Astley Cooper in his surgical
lectures.
A man by the name of Jones, received an
injury on his head while on board a vessel
in the Mediterranean, which rendered him
nsensible. The vessel soon after this inndo
Lfibraltar, where Jones was placed in the
Hospital, and remained there several months
n the same insensible state. He was then
yirried on board the Dolphin frigate to
Deptford, and from thence was sent to St
rkomas Hospital, London. He lay conitantly
upon his back, and breathed with
difficulty. His pulse was regular, and each
time it beat he moved his fingers. When
liungry or thirsty he moved liis lips and
tongue. Mr. dyne, the surgeon, found a
portion of the skull depressed, trepanned
[jim, and removed the depressed portion.?
Immediately after this operation the motion
of the fingers ceased, ana at four o'clock in
the afternoon, the operation having been
performed at one, he sat up in lx?d sensation
and Tolition returned; and in four days
he got out of bed aud conversed. The last
thing he remembered was the circumstance
of taking a prise in the Mediterranean.?
From the moment of the accident, thirteen
-1 _ _ - J 1 t* it
iiiumiis ana a iew uavs, oouvion uaa come
over him, and all recollections ceased, lie
had for more than one year drank of the cup
of Lethe, and livod wholly unconscious of existence,
yet upon removing a small portion
of bone which pressed upon the brain, he
was restored to the full possession of the powers
of his mind and body.?Dr. Br iff ham.
nicccps.?Open your mouth as wide as
you can and raise both hands as high above
your head as you can, and thus remain two
minutes and tho cure is certain and effectual.
There is great philosophy in thia cure.
A Hindoo law says "strike not thy wife
even with a blossom, though she be guilty
of a thousand fault*.''
' r
wm T? Ml
m 22, 1854.
$usinrss-t!ictt fo ftltrljnirirs.
9::s:tatex^iMift^x^L.A.i.t.'nm.%.iamnnmMU wir/lYnt. vxy.r.'Jijr.'JL'WKT
Ihe Ciredif 8 Jjs teh).
"Owe no msn anything," was the injunction
of a Christian Apostle, whose lessons
were seldom if ever unworthy of attention.
If we were to express the sentiment, we should
prefer the motto of John Randolph, "pay as
you go." The politician compassed the idea
better than the A poetle. Owe men we roust,
in all the courtesies and kindnesses which
belong to and grace humanity; it is a debt
collateral with our being?an obligation of
our nature; therefore the Apostle was not definite
enough ; but Randolph hit the mark
when he confined his maxim to debts necuni
arv, which men, under the present ordor of
things, arc liable to incur, lie touched with
a true and noble philosophy one of tho commonest
and greatest of society evils.
We take it for granted that, as a general
rule, debts pecuniary are contracted to be paid,
sooner or later. As a general rulo their burthen
is least tho sooner they are paid. Interest,
usury, dependence, lawsuits, and costs of
all kinds, that hang over standing and litigated
debts add, if we could but get at their
total for a single year in this country, millions
of dollars to the original obligations.
Friendships arc broken over debts ; forgeries
and murders are committed on their account;
and however c nstdered, they are a source of
cost, annoyance and evil?and that continually.
They hreak in everywhere upon the
harmonies relations of individuals and society
; they blunt seusitiveness to personal independence
; and, in no respect that we can
fntnom, do they advance tho general wellbeing.
"Well, as debts are incurred to be paid,
and as the saving all lies on lite side of the
earliest payment, why not manage to pay as
wo go, and thus avoid all debts, duns, broken
friendships, writs constables, sheriffs and
court costs I We buy this or that, of A, 13
or C. and we propose to pay him in a week,
a month, three months, and so on, the coin-1
mechanic, the laborer, and tho tradesman,
with little or no capitid?as is generally the
case?how can they succeed in enterprise, or
in living, even, if they aro not paid as they
?>! If they are paid, they too can pay.
he roform, therefore, must begin, not like
most others, at tho bottom of the scale, but
at the top?with the rich. Let them incur
no debts to those whom thev employ, or with
who^u they trade, and all classes below them
in means can be free of debt Debts are
curses, and among the greatest under which
nations suffer.?N. Y. Mirror.
Ibe ifah) h> c lr.
The* ham mar is the universal emblem of
mechanics. With it are alike forged the
sword of contention, and the plough share of
| peaceful agriculture, the press of the free,
and the shackle of the slave. The eloquence
of the forum haa removed the armies of
Greece and Home to a thousand battle-fields,
but the eloouenoe of the hammer has oovered
those fields with victory or defeat. The
inspiration of song has kindled up high hopes
and noble aspirations in the bosom of brave
knights and dames, but the inspiration of the
hammer has strewn the field with tattered
helm and shield, decided not only the fate ol
ohivalric combat, but the fate of thrones,
orowns and kingdoms. The ftmging of thunder
bolts was ascribed by the Greeks as th<
highest act of Jove's omnipotence, and theii
mythology, beautiful ascribes of one of theii
gods the task of presiding at the Labors o
*
->v "' * ? i ? ' ;? X
E1SKL
*
NO. 19 "
tho forge. In ancient warfare, the hammer
was a powerful weapon, independent of the
blade which it formed. Many a stout skull
was broken through the cap and h eliff by a
blow of Vulcan's weapon. The aruiies of
the Crencent would have subdued Europe of
the sway pf Mohammed, but on the plains of
France their progress was arrested, and the
brave and simple warrior who saved Christendom
from the sway of the Mussleraon war,
named Martel?"the hainmar." IMto sim
pic, how appropriate, how grand?"the hammer
.** The hammer is the savior and bulwark
of Chriatcindom. The hammer is tho
wealth of nations. By it are forged tho ]>oudorous
engine and the tiny needle. It is nil
instrument of the savage and tho civilised.?
Its merry clink points out tho al>odc of in.1?4
. - J - ?"
uumry?it i? ? domestic amy, presiding
over the grandeur of the most wealthy and
ambitious, as well as the humble and impoverished.
Not a stick is shaped, not a house
is raised, a ship floats, or a carriage rolls ?
wheel spins, an engine moves ? press speaks
a voil sings, a spade delves or a flag wavia
without a hammer. Without the hammer
civilization would bo unknown, and tho human
species only as defenceless brutes, but in
skilful hands, directed by wisdom, it is an
instrument of power of greatness, ami true
| glory.
JLcpfphig q IlrpOc.
It is a lomontablq fcct that too many parents
consider the learning of a mechanical
trade a d'sj^lce, and labor ignoblo?worthy
only of a slave, and send out their sons into
the world an encumbrance rather than useful
members of society. I'eople too often
judge men by their outside appearance, seeming
to forget that it is tho heart that constitutes
the gentleman, and that the raiment a
man wears is 110 more a test of gentility than
the beard that he wears upon his face. Labor
and gentility are not antagonists; and the
connection between them iu their true mcanI
ing is so closS, that they -are nlqpet inseparable.
Wc do not pretend to say that every
mau who labors is a gentleman, but lal>or is
necessary to develop the good traits of the
heart, and prevent idleness from planting the
weed of dissipation, which are so ruinous to
the young. All great men are hard porkers ;
and in no other way could they have attained
the position they hold. The most despised
calling may be made honorable by tho
honor of its professors ; nor will any trade degrade
the man that is intrinsically pure. It
is the heart, the mind, the inteution carrried
into the work that ennobles or degrades him
who is engaged in it.
Let not parents who almost compel their
sons to spend their time in idleness and consequent
debauchery and dissipation, or who
teach their sons to believe that labor degrades
then,and that the knowlodgo of a raechaniical
trade is a stain 011 character,ever complain of
disappointed hopes in their children. Tho
uestmy ot the child is, to some extent in the
hands of the parent, and depends greatly upon
the principles inculcated by them. IIow
many a poor, idle, hesitating, erring outcast
is now creeping and crawling his way through
the world, who might have held up his head
and looked the world iu the face with an unblanching
eye, if his parents had given him
a trade, and taught him that?
"Honor and fame from 110 condition rise,
Act well yonr pnrt, thero all the honor lies.'*
Mechanics aro often snccrod at by a certain
class of pop-guu gentry, because they
fear not to acknowledge that he is acquainted
with a mechanical trade. The man who
does this is no honor to the race of hmuanity
; a mere popinjay whose mind ha^wen
taken complete possession of by the weeds of
idleuoss. lie has never contributed a single
mite to benefit humanity, or done a siuglo
deed for the good of his fellow man. The
world in him is burdened with an existence
that is a curse to it. Then learn your sons
a trade and prepare them to battle with tho
storms that they must meet ere they have
sailed far upon the voyage of life. Then tlicy
can smile at the storm of adversity that may
Sther over them in future life, knowing that
cy have the power within themselves tomeet
and conquer it?Madison Visitor.
A Woiu> to Young Mbcuamcs.?Young
Mechanics, who would prosper in business,
have only two rules to live up to, to insure,
success. First, do your work as your customer
wishes to have it dons. The other rulo
. is to do it by the time you promised to have
it done. These two rules complied with,
\ and there is not much danger, if any, of a
failure.
Bkautiful Extract.? 'Whatever we can
do good in this world with our affections or
our faculties, rises to the eternal world above
us, as a song of praise from Humanity to.
ci~A a~:j .i j -
namu kii? muirmiUj uiousana tones
ever joining to s^ll tlic only music of that
i song, aro those which sound londewt ami
i grandest herr, tlic tones which travel *wect'
est and purest up to the Imperishable Throne,
, which mingle in the porfeoteet harmuay with
the anthem of the ange) choir I A solemn
i and awful question I Let your own heart
r answer it; and then say, may not theobaeurr
est life be dignified by a lasting aspiration,
f and dedicated to a noble aim . ?>
V ? v j