The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1836-1851, February 22, 1850, Image 1

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4 VOLUME 11. " CMID^^QUTH^CARQLTNA, FEBRUARY22, 1850. NUMBER 15.: poetical department. From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier. THE FIRST BRIDAL. EV MHS. L. F. MORGAN*. " * 1 -1 ?1-2?1. T r*/\/l Karl lol'An tVnm mnrt " A nil [lie riu, wiui'ii mr mhu uuu iiiftvn made lie a woman,and brought her uiiio the man." The temple was tlie new-made earth, Un weeping skies arch'd o'er it, For sin as yet had not had birth, Why should the Heaven's deplore it ? No curious crowd wasgather'd there, To criticize or wonder, When softly breathed, that primal air, .i l.i. li nnnn mav stindt*r. Oh! ne'er was marriage rite so bless'd? The minister and witness Was God himself, who thus impress'd The seal upon its fitness. Go forth in bliss without alloy, Young bride and bridegroom favor'd; With all the soul can dream of joy, Your cup of life is flavor d. With gratitude both pure and deep, Go, make tlac world your altar, Ye liave but one command to keep? Can your obedience falter? With hearts and minds attuned to love, And God in all things viewing, The flowery paths of Eden rove, Your graceful tasks pursuing. The vistas winch before you ope, With cloudless light are streaming, Undoubting faith, untreinbling hope, Around your steps are beaming. Let fall the curtain. Shut the scene? On life's green threshhold leave thein, Whate'er of woe may supervene, There's nothing rwic to grieve them. Baltimore, 1847. THE FATHERIJ2SS. Speak softly to the fatherless! And check the harsh reply That sends the criinfbti to the cheek, The tear drop to the eye. They have the weight of loneliness In this rude wosld to bear, Then gently raise the fallen bud, The drooping flow'ret spare. Speak kindly to the fatherless! The lowliest of their baud, God keepeth, as the waters, In the hollow of his hand. 'Tim snd to j;ee life's evening sun, Go down in sorrow's shroud, But sadder still "when morning's dawn Is darkened by the cloud. Look mildly on the fatherless! Ye may have power to wile Tlieir hearts irom saaaen a mcuijij By the magic of a smile. Deal gently with these little ones, Be pitiful, and He, The friend and father of us all, Shall gently deal willi thee. ?l)c ?lio. ONLY TRY. The following lias been translated from a French paper. They used to say that every soldier carried in his cartridge box a marshal's baton. Might not one say, in these days, that evorv chorister carries in his wind-pipe a for tune ? Here is one example at least. About thirty years ago, in a little city of Italy, at Bergame, by a singular contrast, the company at the Opera House was quite indifferent, while the choristers were excellent. It could scarcely luive lieen otherwise, since the greater part ot the choristers have since become distinguished composers. Donizetti, Cruvelli, Leodoro, Blanche, Mari, and Dolci, commenced by singing in the choruses at Bergame. There were, among others, at that epoch, a young man, venf poor, very modest, and greatly beloved by his commiles. In Italv. the orchestra and the choris tors arc worse paid than in France, if possible. You enter a hoot-maker's shop, the master is the first violin. The apprentices relax themselves after a day's work, by playing the clarionet, the hautboy, or the timbrels, in the evening at the theatre. One young man, in order to assist liis old mother, united the functions of chorister to the more lucrative employment of journeyman tailor. Oue day, when he had taken to Nozari's house a pair of pantaloons, the illustrious singer, after lookiny at him earnestly, said to him, very kind o b 3 ? , " It appears to ine, my good fellow, that I have seen you somewhere. " Quite likely, sir; you may have seen ine at the theatre, where I take a part in the choruses." ((Have you a good voice V* f Not remarkably, sir; I can, with great difficulty, i. aeh sol." "Let me sec," said Nozari. going to the piano ; " begin the gamut." Our chorister obeyed, but v' u ho reached - - " i . 1 . .1. sol he stopped short, out 01 u:r..? " Sound la?come, try." "Sir, I cannot." " Sound la, you fool." " La, la, la." " Sound si." " My dear sir, I cannot." "Sound si, I tell you, or by my soul I'll"? " Don't get angry, sir; I'lltrv?/?r, si, la, si, do " I told you so," said Nozari, with a voice ol triumph ; " and now, inv good lellow, I will say only one word to you. If you will only study i and practice, vou will become the first tenor in Italy." Nozari was right. The poor chorister who, to gain his bread, had to mend breeches, possesses now a fortune of two millions, and is called Rubini. What a Woman Sitour.n nn At.fiiabkti> cally.?A woman should be amiable, benevo I lent, cnancame, domestic, economical, torgiving, generous, honest, indnstrhras, judicious, kind, loving, modest, neat, obedient, pleasant, quiet, rcilecting, sober, tender, urbane, virtuous, wise, 'xemplary, yielding and zealous. What a teaman should not he. ? She should not be artful, bold, cross, deceitful, envious, fretful, grovelling, hollow-hearted, idle, jadish, knavish, lazy, morose, nonsensical, officious, ! petulant, quarrelsome, ranting, snappish, talha' tive, unreasonable, vain, wrangling, 'xtravagant or yawning.?Port. Bulletin. It may be said generally of husbands, as the woman Said of hers who had abused her, to an old maid who reproached her for being such a fool as to marry him?" to be sure lie is not so good a husband as he should be, but lie's a wonderful sight better than none." Na!'ou:on\s Tomu. According to a lute development, the afiair of Napoleon's tomb at Paris has been the subject of very great finaneieal mystification. The original estimate of the cost was 500,000 francs; but now it appears if is expected that it v. ill amount in all to nearly 3,000,000. An invalid sent for a physician, the late Dr. Wheelman, and after detaining him some 'time, with a description of his pains, aches, Arc. he thus summed up: "Now Doctor, you have humbugged me long enough with your good-for-nothing pills and worthless syrups, they don't touch the real difficulty, I wish you would strike the cause of my ailment, if it is in your power to roach it." "It shall be done," said the Doctor, at the same time lifting the cane and demolishing a decanter of n in which stood upon the sidei i uuuiu . ? Dr. Johnson, being once in company with some scandal mongers, one of tliem having accused an absent friend of resorting to rouge, he observed : "it is perhaps, after all, much better for a lady to redden her own cheeks, than to blacken other people's characters." 3, 3clcctcb STalv DISTRUST, on thr. victim op voluntary widowhood. List and I will toll you a story of real life as it occurred in our very midst. The heroine of my story lived many years in Mobile, and was a native, I think, of this place; at all events, her lot in life must early have been cast among us. Many in this Fair Room have taken her by the band ; for, at every hearthstone she was a welinwct rpndored so liv her brilliant man ners, mid engaging, lovely disposition. Everybody loved Dora llammersley, for she loved everybody. She had been a widow nine years when 1 first made her acquaintance, and a more lovely woman in every point of view it has never boon my lot to meet with. I often wondered at her perversity in remaining single, when I kiiew, with the world, that she had it so largely in her power not only to become an interesting wife, hut a most useful member of society. She always parried my persuasions, by saying that I sue ureaut'U UUHIIIIIUU ui a Mcp-iuiuur inuij her only chilJ, a sweet little girl of sonic ten summers. I noticed at the time, despite her efforts to conceal it, that the poor woman was im measurably wretched. She was not in love, for she was a woman of too finely a balanced mind ever to sit down and moj>o on an unrequit"d passion. Her beautiful blameless life had been passed among us, with the exception of the five ' ? II 1. ? I I 11 years oi ner marneu me, which nau uvea spum. elsewhere. It was during a brief visit she paid Mobile ia 18? while at her father's house, she heard of her husband's death, i shall never forget the shock it occasioned me, more for Dora's sake, who 1 knew to he so ardently attached to him. Time heals every wound, and I knew, in the common course of tilings, she must long since have ceased to grieve for her husband's death. The announcement, at last, that she was about to leave Mobile forever and settle in the west, tilled the large circle of her friends ? - i I I . . ? ; i ll'l ... I Willi nil' IUOSI (UIIKMIUUCU JiSlOlllMllllClU. >? II.'U . leave the dear friends, where she had been so petted, so caressed, for a home in a strange land ?far from the scene of her childhood! Well might we all wonder. I determined, with my husband's permission, to ask an explanation of j this strange resolve. She was to perform her i l.ac# I.il<rrini-Iiri> til ?lw> <rr;ivi?? ril'Smi* ii'iri>nt< wild j l'"p 'p" ? ' " l""~ ' ?_ j were interred in tlie old grave-yard, head of : Church street. Thither we went together, and after sauntering through the old arenas?anon stopping to listen to the wind, as it swept in Julian strains through the overhanging gloomy pines?we reached at last an old broken wall, and bidding her sit down beside ine, I took both her hands in mine and implored her, by my past friendship and mv present devotion to her in ! terests, to frainJy tell nie the cause of her unI happiness. " I nn so glad you have touched upon this subject," said she, hesitatingly, " for oh, I know I that I would he so much happier if some one j else beside myself knew the terrible secret of my | past life. Yes," she said, " I will tell you all | without reservation ; but we must enter into ; solemn compact first." " Anything in reason, Dora, and which it is in toy power to perform, I will most willingly ! do." " Will you promise not to hate me ?" she convulsively sobbed. " Will you promise, by tlie sacred dust of my parents, that }"ou will still love me as you have hitherto done V' "I will still continue to love you, Dora, though I you had committed murder. There now, will I ft,of nccitponnn cficfr vm, >" She kissed me affectionately and began the recital of her griefs. " Mind, you promise not to interrupt me," she said. "You will remember," she continued, " that I was married early in life to one whom I more than idolized, and went to Louisiana to live. It was during the last months of the five years that I sojourned in that state, that the seeds of my after unhappiness were sown. I was young, Emily, and was too prone to put faith in all I saw and hoard. It has only hoen through the two last years of my close intimacy with you, that I have learned what a good-wife should be. Oh, Emily, Emily, the precious pearls that 1 have east from me, and trampled in the dust, because I knew not their value! Will you believe it, my friend, that, 1113' husband is now alive and the father of a | lnrint fttndlv it, nno nl' fliu Wocf fmli'i Tshlllfltt. It was my own fault," she continued as I was j about to interrupt her. " I listened to evil coun- j sel, Emily, and learned to distrust my husband. \es, 1 learned to distrust, and at last to hate (or at least thought I did) that husband who had always lavished upon me every kindness. I never quarrelled with him. No ? I was too innately proud for that; but I allowed myself to brood upon my silent, growing hate, and, oh, there is j no feeling on this earth that so high warps the i brain to madness ::s the hate born of jealousy. v,.? \, * uu nuuu my IKUI1V, v/pcn xjmiijt* So i went to him, and widi my month in t!ie dust, asked lor a separation. Oh, never did the , poor doom-sacked victim of the liosphorus beg ' for life, as I for the blessed privilege?of going from ills presence forever with our only child. He tried to reason with me,but 1 was mad, Emily, and have been mad since. 1 asked for notliiior lnif mv child, ami nlcadcd u'itlian earnest. ncss which he saw it was useless to resist. So, i Emil v, I u ill pass on the announcement of inv ! widowhood?when 1 went forth to the world a j hypocrite in widow's weeds. My husband wrote I to ine three times during the first year of our i separation, imploring me by every precious tie | to permit him even bv stealth to look once more I upon the face of his child. To every entreaty I returned a cold, stern, hard answer, and for all this 1 have dearly bitten the dust since. The [ years sped on which return no more, and mv child began to expand into a loveliness which was almost superhuman. Strange as it may appear to you, I again learned to love my bus uanu uiruugii ins child, \> lien she spoke to me ititVllS h<-*P fntlicr^s v pvorj' A*r,ic his; and I so loved my child that I again loved my lutshand t!irough her. Strange inconsisteney you may call this, but it is nevertheless true. 1 knew that he was alive, for regularly every year I have received a small provision for our maintenance through unknown hands. This, with the little patrimony received from my father, enabled me to live far above want?aetn..11.. ..<r....Cxi,,, MM.-, lriYiivi,.^ of life. | You little know how I have yearned to look ! once more upon my husband's face. Oh Emi- j ly! I thought if I could hut see him, all I he made up. 1 was prepared to luunhle myself ' in tlievery dust, that 1 might he taken hack to his heart once more. 1 knew not where to direct even a letter to him, and like a poor condemued criminal I dared not make open inquiry; for in the eyes of the world 1 was a widow | and my poor child an orphan. So well have | I played my part in hypocrisy, that no one nas ever dreamed of my husband's existence. "1 believe that 1 knew, and loved you, ton, for nearly four years?and that brings nie to nearly a widowhood of thirteen years. I had almost outlived the hope of ever again seeing my husband, when about three weeks since I received a small note from him, announcing that he was in Mobile, and most anxious to see the child of his youth?that he would call on.me the evening of that day, as an old friend of the family, promising under any circumstances not to reveal inmseti to .ana. un: ine imurs ui that ilny were so 'leaden paced!' At last lie came with seven o'clock. 1 parted with my husband,a tall slight ligmv, with light blue eyes, ainWark curling hair?and 1 shook hands with him alter a lapse of thirteen years, a perfect Indian in complexion, an enlarged robust figure, eyes somewhat darker, and his hair, instead of grey, was as black as night,lying in thick masses of large manly crispy curls! Never would I have recognised the husband of my youth in I the line looking middle-aged man 1 presented to my daughter as the friend of her father. 1 had prepared her to receive him nficrtionately, ami the warm welcome slit* extended, assuring him that any one who hail known her father should have the wannest corner of her heart, was beyond conception painful to both of us. They hud a long and interesting conversation, ile inquired about her studies, and seemed pleased with the progress she had made, making lie* promise (with my permission) to correspond with him under the assumed name of Dunslow. U'liiln in inn with his child. I had writ tea a few linos, staling my earnest roeantation of inv former errors, and earnestly asking for a reconciliation. He was terribly agitated during the whole interview, and when I gave him my note to read, the strong man shook like an ague lit. " tin ci'-mticil it several limes?walked the Hour in terrible agitation?looked at me ouee with the concentrated agony of a life of human suffering?and approaching Ada gave her a minature of liimsolf, which he said sin- must keep for iter father's sake as well as his own?kissed i her several times, and bidding her farewell, asked me to take a turn with him on the balcony, i " l)ora,M he said, as he nervously closed the door, " years ago you passed the liat of our sep .nation. You know how earnestly and hope lessly I sued for terms?you turned a deaf ear and a hard heart to all my solicitations. You were the victim, I too well know, Dora, of a wicked conspiracy. Had you but listened to the counsel contained in the last letter I wrote I you, twelve years ago, all would have been j well; as it is, you sowed the seeds.of your own : unhappiness, by distrusting your husband, and, , at best, have reaped but Dead Sea fruit I i grieve for you?I grieve more for my daughter, ; who must go forth to the world without a father's protecting arm, After your rejection t>f all overtures oil my part, I went to the West Indies, obtained a divorce from yourself, and married a Spanish woman, who could not speak one word ; of English, liy my lust marriage I have three ! cluldren, nil daughters. You will often hear from me through my child, God bless you, madam? And, without even one kiss, Emily, my husband vanished from my sight. One oflec; tionate, kind caress, would have been so little to | liiin, and such a precious remembrance to me! May be, this is what men call retribution." Siliivi'li? t(*/i iiireiiml aiiv* tiro i* linmnurir/la nn/1 I censed to wonder at those eccentricities in my friend, which formed the comments of so many. Dora Hammersley left Mobile some years since, and settled in the west. Her daughter, as every body tells me, is worthy of her mother?has married well, and moves with her mother among the first women in the nation. t.7-rt< i ? us if*/y*7iroTirr*ii Tiraag?bmbb?BBPB ittisrcllnnequs Department. From the New Orleans Crescent. CALIFORNIA NEWS. We are greatly indebted to an esteemed friend who came passenger by the Falcon, for the interesting details below: The steamship Oregon left San Francisco, T.... 1 a. . <> I : 1 J I Jim. i, ai / a.- in., iiiivmy uii uuiiiu vuv iiuuuicu cabin and about two hundred steerage passengers, with' n freight list of gold dust amounting to over 91 ,'200,000. The entire amount of gold (hist brought by passengers and freight list is estimated at about $3,000,000. Business at San Francisco is rather dull on account of the rains, and merchants preferred investing in land and real estate. Gold dust, the day previous to the Oregon's leaving, was in demand at 816 to the ounce for shipment, and must continue to command that price until after the rainy season. I'refer you to the papers for local news, in which' will be seen an account of the destruction by fire of a large amount of property. At the time of my leaving, some three or four of the ruins were nearly rebuilt, and were under contract to be ready to move into by the 6th. Of these I may mention the Dennison House and El Dorado" \\ c ,Vr- -,&(K ta I5:ixl?ar/f, making her way up finely to dan Francisco. This boat has had a hard time of it, having got out of coal, and has been lying at Acapulco lbr some two months. The Hay of San Francisco is being enlivened by steamboats. The propeller Mckim, formerly of New Orleans, has been profitably employed as a regular packet between San Francisco and Sacramento city. The steamer Senator is also in the same trade, A new boat of Aspinwall's T,> "? 1 ? lino, cuucu 1^1 uimiim, is uv<un luiujiimL. .v.. the same trade. On the Sail Joaquin a sternwheel boat called (.'apt Sutter h^s been running between San Francisco ami Stockton. There wn.t an iron propeller beat, called the Fire Fly, being put together to run to I'ueblo San Jose. Col. Jack Hays Indian Agent, was at San nimrn ulirMi the Ofeirnn li-lt. ""t? "'TV. C.vi't. 'louts.?Nothing had been heard in San Francisco, prior to the sailing of the Oregon, of ihe death of Tohin,a?d it is not believed. Naval.?The lT. S. Mag shin, Savannali, Com. Jones, has l?een Icing at Sancelita, (six miles below Sail Francisco,) intending to go up the river*to Henitia, some thirty miles, bnt can not go, it is said, lor want of a crow to work hor. The Falmouth was lying near her, and was to leave in a few days for Mnxatlnn. The Revenue brig Lawrence, Capt. khmer, is lying in the bay opposite the town, and had rendered much efficient sen-ice to the shipping in the many difficulties occurring there with seamen. The St. .Mary's is also lying in t!rr hay. They have some three or four steamboats on #i . 1 inooiir Icon S't # I*;f?11??ll. nil' v | ? 71" J .MI .ai.iMllW I ill I I III It I'll I ?.v ....... .. to ( i'.y up ill? Y:ilm river. The freights are exorbitantly high, as the navigation is attended uiih much risk, a:u! is indeed only possible daring high water. The hay of San Francisco contains some three hundred sail of vessels, of which sonic two hundred are idle and without crows. Previous to the Oregon's leaving labor was maeh redite " "miI ...iiei i illv seamen's wages. Seamen were shinning for voyage? f?? fho Sandwich Mauds at nominal wages?not over S'19 per month; ?o Panama. 8'iO to 8d0; to Oregon, S7n; on the rivers from San Francisco hay, >>(?(). This is a great reduction, as only some two months since no seamen would accept loss than 81-0 ; and then laborers readily commanded from 8'd to 8S per day. This change is owing to the accession of laborers constantly ar riving, ami the conlmne:! rittns w.'stcti prevent out-door ln!?i?r ti? :i grdat extent. The Town Council ?>1" San Francisco have had three largo sales of town lots, which have realized upwards of oik* million of dollars, and wore to have another sale on the 3s I of January, j Tln'v have opened a ('it v Hospital, and arc making gn at improvements on the streets. Rents continue and Iniiltli'i^.s ofevery Kiml, stylo and rendition, are living erected. I doubt whether there is one hour in the twenty-four that the sound of the hnininer or saw is not to be hoard in the town of San I'ranrisco?certainly not for the live months of mv residence. . < . .. (J ivat iiironvcnii'iK'ii i.s lelt lor trio wain 01 suit.ihlo pulilif huililines', ami as for tlio l'ostollioo, I ctm.'itli'r ii a nuisance, totally tliocrotlitabl.' to tlio liovc'initHOiit ami all connected with it. There are but sis or eight clerks employed in the office, and there are but two general delivery windows; while there are some seven"1' hundred boxes, which rent, for each name, at two d-illurs per month, and one dollar extra for every name additional. Here the merchants and clerks have a grand wrangle, after the door hai boon opened by a Col. Poor, a sort of volunteer ..clerk, who, it is understood, has the privilege of ' furnishing his acquaintances with their letters previous to opening the windows. This Postoffice should have thirty clerks, and at least five windows for the general delivery. Yon may see on any day, between the arrivals of the steamers, from ton to one hundred persons, in ; single file, before these windows; and the fact isy it is impossible for the clerks to go through the labor with the present arrangements. Men have: been known to sell their places in the line, when within five or six of the window, for ?16 to ?20. It will be seen by the papers that California * is democratic in her late vote. There was no attempt to adopt free-soilism or Wilmot-proviso ism in the contest The Constitution of California had wisely settled those disturbing sentiments so far as regards the State of California. What position in respect to these parties the California delegation will take, I am unable to say; but it is hoped that they may keep aloof from " all sectional and embittering conflicts, and support the "Constitution and the Union." The Oregon brought as passengers the-Calr fjr.iia delegation to the Senate and House of Representatives?John C. Fremont and W.- flf.Gwin to the former, and G. W. Wright and E. Gilbert to the latter; Thos. Butler King, Government Agent, late M. C. from the State of Georgia; T. B. Winston, well known in New Orleans, and nmnv nthprs mnrp nrlnaa n/vf??. Mrs. Fremont was ill of the fever at Panama, aud not expected to live. * Wehb's Expedition.?Soveral individuals' who were attached to the ill-fated expedition led by Webb and Audubon have arrived in San Francisco, having reached that place aboht the middle of December last Our informant does not recollect any of the names except that of Henry C. Mallory. They suffered very severely on the route and passed tlirough many hardships. T f nn?: .1.1H/UUUS--JL.1.M Lil.lU.?Illff following is vouched for as truth by the London Athentcuin : During the visit of this child of song to Bath, she happened to be walking with a friend, in front of the almshouses, into one of which she entered, and sat down a moment, ostensibly to rest herself, but in reality to find some excuse for doing an act of charity to the old woman who lived in it, and whgm-4? fteVfld ~ sfSlkfep,1 ?d Jgtiejiop. At ttergrroors, was full of the Swedish Nightingale, whom she had heard wrm inst tlion in Batli. entertaining with her J ~ ' o voice all those who were so happy and fortunate as to be able to go to the theatre. " For myself," said the old woman, "I have lived a long time in the world, and desire nothing ^before 1 die but to hear Jenny Lind." "And would it make you happy inquired her visiter. " Ay, that it would," answered the old woman; " but such folks as I can't go to the playhouse, and sol shall never hear her." "Don't be sure of that," said the good natured Jenny; " sit down my friend and listen;" and forthwith she sang, with all her richest and most glorious powers,one of the finest songs she knew. The poor old woman was beside herself with delight^ when, after concluding her song, her kind visiter observed, "now you have heard Jenny Lind." if she/had given the woman a hundred pound?, she could not have afforded her half so much pleasure. It was an act of noble charity, of the tenderest and most delicate kind.- Money it would have been easy for her to give, and mon-: cv no doubt she did give; hut to sit down in an *1 il I L_X? almshouse, and there to can up Hie encnaninients of her voice for the amusement of an obscure and poor old woman, was a torching proof of goodness of heart, which nothing we we heard of Jenny Lind surpasses. To know the worth of women, just imagine' the world without them once. Where would yon spend your Sunday nights? Who would hold your head when you had the tooth ache? What would you do for buttons to your shirts or partners for your cotillions? Without girls j a sleigh-ride squeeze would be more worthless than a squeezed orange?cold weather would ! have an extra chill added to it, while suicides and ' broken hearts would be multiplied by an hundred. To take the women from the world, would ho like taking the rose from the garden?the nightingr.le from the songsters?summer from the year. Georgia Burr Stoivs.?We had an interview 0:1 Monday with a gentleman from one of the \?nrt'n>!*ii rifio<? who has for nianv years been ! r , . y y , ! largely engaged in the importation of 1* rench Burr atid Herman stones, and who hhs made a visit to Savannah expressly for the purpose of examining the (Icorgia Burr stones, mannfactured in this citv. Ho expressed himself much pleased witJi the specimens which he had seen, at the manufactory here, and has gone to the quarry for the purpose of seeing the mode employed in getting out the stone, and to satisfy , himself, more fully, in regard to the' extent and areessihUity of the deposit. He informed us that he designed making orders with a view of | fin \ivui?iu oiunv in unwi v.i'iujj*with t!n* imported article in flouring mills in two of tlu* Northern cities. We learned from him also, that a similar tost is now being made in one of the largo flouring mills in Richmond Va.Savannah Morning News. Fashionable lite has been compared by a fashI ionaulo writer to the chariot ofTullia, as it drives I onward in its noisy triumph over the bodies of the | fallen, however dear or venerable. Not very com pli n^ntBvy to the "upper Ion, certainly.