The Lancaster ledger. (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, August 08, 1860, Image 1
lite %aticaster icftfer.
&2 PER ANNUM *??."?? IN ADVANCE
J /nitiilg tail ^ilitital iinnpaptt Dtanttd tn tjit jlrti, jtitatrs, ritpratntr, fimraion, Sgrualtari; Sntrral Siupranfitinitg, >nrctga auD Fmrstii JJras, anil tin JUnrktta.
VOLUME IX. LANCASTER C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, VEDNESDAY MORNING, AUG. 8, 1860. N U M B E R 28.
Jrlrrtrii fturq.
From Uie Now York Ledger,
UNCLE PHIL'S REMEDY.
jiy r. s. akntur.
"'How's Mary f Asked uncle Phil. Windfham,
of liis nephew, Harry Lester.
'Not very well,' replied the young man
> with a shadowed face.
'I'm so>ry. What eeeins to ho the
ina'.lur with b?-r !'
'I'm sure I don't know, Uncle Phil.?
Sho has no appetite, and is weak and
wretched half her time.* '
What doe* the doctor say I'
'Nothing satisfactory. It's my onin
inn fliMt I.a <l..a.i>'t lrnn? ?. I. .. # " l-?
"v m v ?>"v" " unv nun iif i,
The worst of it is, she gets into such low
. spirits, snd cries, sometimes, for half the
might.'
TVwt's bad Harry?eerv bad.'
I know it is, Uncle. Yet what can I
.do f
"Ilow are you setting along in your
business !' asked Uncle Phil.
Not so well as ! could desire. Hard,
wearisome work every day, and yet 1
seem to make very little progress"
The young man's fare t.H>V on a trotib
led aspect. Uncle Phil, bad seen that
look a great many times before, and now
it set him to thinking.
"Did you ever see the person who got
along in this world as well as lie d?stred?'
asked the old man.
'Oh, as to that. Uncle Phil., my desire 1
do not take a very wide range. But I
would like 10 no- some f tut of my Uiarr.
"You hav < a comfortable home, liar
ry. a>? tint iniit <>l your labor. Isn't that
sonieii.i.ig ?'
?. I>ti* I don't seen to g.*t ahead
And that diarouiagos me. 1 work l>.?rd
enough, in all rotisi iencc."
Uncle Phil, looked at iii< ncj.liew 1r
rotue ruoit ents. and then said :
? Is iiu<i ihefs. 6 you tarry home over v |
I'i^lll, llh'M t'
VVl hi fucc I f Juti'i nndcrriand yon.'
The dark, d.5?:wi. 1 unlfii] (aoc you *ve??r
l!C*W.'
Ti.e ryi*? of tl-my I^lcr dropped t<>
lit** ground.
'Hec*u?i', il il is, I don't wonder Mary !
is nick.
Tin* shadow s passed it way, and s smile
lit up the voting man's countenance
'An, iIml's belief ! That's the true
I.mii e-fii-*. Hi * il to Mary, slid my
snr I for it, she'll find it more potent tlian
ineilii in*'
'Vnn're * liul* fact-lious, to day. Uncle,'
* id Letter.
>?'.? I ; luit in sober earnest I lion'i
j isl ki o* how it is ; luit I'm afraid, tliat
in u<>ing Imine to Mary at night, you take
shadow* i lis tend of suiishiue. Now, n
woman's heart wattle sunshine. It enn1
not gro* flower* 111 (lie dark. L.er?ve [
jour care him) business anileiy inside of {
iniir Mix- when tl.e doots are eli< ( at I
night, Mini Lih.g home to \onr wife a
cheetful sp fit. Try the virtue of a ami |
Jin/ Nee, mr lH>y. and old Uncle l'liil.V |
word for it. M ,ry will need no more doctoi'n
? lift'.'
I' jusl ih tl< old matt had eippo,
rod. Mfcir\' L^-' iik'? too many other j
:i , * lio pern; ' themselves to get over !
Hiixiuii* 'u J to hu*iinM matters, a! J
way* brought a I'omled Nee to Ins home j
Ai Bight. He t.<ed to bring, light and j
ent ten and cheerful words. Then it was I
diff.rem wtih M?tv frotn what ia was j
now. Her face refla ted the light and
amiles that I earned from his, and her
lips Were running over with pleasant talk.
Uncle I'hd.'a remarks set him to thinking,
and he retnemlrered all this. Could it ) ?
possible that the withdrawal of sunlight
from his countsnstice had thrown her
Jiin into shadow f
I thought she was more of a woman
than tl a f
More of a woman t Why, ia this all
ton know of a trite woman's nature I?
You should have been wiser in regard to
Jier character before taking the happiness
\>f a wife into jour keeping. Love can
? ?i a .1. it ik. .k.
Iiui niivl Ill/Ill -nil II Illy mmJ ' "'??
r clouded ; end love it a woman's life.
Tl>e state of Mary's mind, as well as
tho state of her health were sad enough,
fto lead her husband to think aarioualj on
any raioadr that might be presented, and
.aa uncle Phil's admonition did not paaa
from bia thoughts, as we have seen from
litis remark, touching the lack of true
womanliness in bis w.fe.
Try the virtue of a smiling face.*
That was easily enough said; but not
so easily done. How was Harry Lester
,to arnlie. when ha felt depressed in nond,
and amious about his busineaa I He
.could smile through tha day ; smile in
the face of hie customers; and without
an effort. Did he think of that! No, j
Jl?* UIIIT Ui'iuH'" ?' iur iininiMituiiiij U|
npp ting Uncle PHil.'l remedy.
J ry the nruie of a entiling fur*, my
boy.'
lie renieinltered the*e word* he'
etocd at loe door, im! inatie a pan** ho
fore entering, Anything hut a entiling
aapect em the ono that eat upon hie
countenance,
>1 will try,' he answered, with a hind
of (ieeperaia resolution, and pualong open
the door, entered with a lighter atep than
Usual
Oh. ie this you, Mary f he aaid, in a j
pieaaant way, aa hie wife, wIm> happened ,
to he crooning from the parlor, met him
ia the nasa <g* lie put on a ainile a* '
he spoke ; and, wonderful to say, a amile j
came into Mary'a pale faff,
'!!'?? aie you \.itit* evening J' lie tlien
asked, witli a kind interest that was unu >
sua!, for, nearly always, his thoughts were j
not home guests, hut wanderers backward
amid the < ares of the day, or forward j
with anxious hopes into the morrow.
'Better than I have felt all day ' And
something of the old sweetness played i
about her lips ; played there so iempt< )
ingly that her husband could not repress i
the inclination he felt to lay upon them a !
kiss of tender feeling.
Why, it seemed as if a sudden sun. i
burst had irradiated the countenance of |
Mrs Lester. How long was it since a
ktas, so full of heart-wHrmlh as that, had !
been pressed upon her hps I Away back i
tti the past, the time lay so far, that meiu I
orv was at fault in recalling it.
MyUetier than she lind fe'? nil day! If this !
were really bo, and we believe it, tbe dis- !
covery wan made at llie moment.
'I am gla'* of it, Mary.' And with his j
arm drawn around her waist?when had
it been there belore I?they walked back ;
into the sitting room.
'You look in better spirits, dear!' And '
Mary's eyea read bis face all over wuh j
an eager interest which she could not)
hide.
It was on tbe man's lips to reply, that |
he wasn't aware of any cause why he
should feel in heller spirits. Desponden.
cy was such a habit with him that any
other state of mind seemed unusual.?
Even as the words of this reply came in
to his mind, It in countenance changed.?
Hut, remembering Uncle l'bil.'s adirioni
lion, be checked himself, and forcing hack i
into life the already half extinguished |
smile, he answered :
'[)? I ?'
'Yes; it. better spirits than I have seen
you for a long lime. It dors me good
to see the sunshine in your face again.'
The sunshine in mv lace again, Mary?
Why, hat it been absent so long ?'
Lester felt surprised, and showed it in
Ins iiiHi.ner.
'Don't b-t it go out again, dear,' said
In* wife, l?Hir.t-.mil\ toward bun.
'If it i* So Ji.easaiit lo too, Mary '
'I'leiisaut. ilair\ I Ii is my life. Oh,
if I could see your face weiring the cheer
I i. expression it wore ? ? the beginning of
our married life, I would be tbe happiest ;
WIIIIIHll Hive.
Mrs. lienor's voice lout itself in a sob, !
ami her e\e* grew dun with tears ; but j
the emtio that lit up her wan face, ami I
gav?, to it an impression of former beau
ty, remained.
Ttusir.es* brings its cares and anxieties,
Marj ; and these will shadow the face
sometimes.*
*1 know, it, dear. Hut why not leave
care and anxious thoughts behind, when
the day's business is over ) To sit nt
home in darkness,cannot make )ou stron
ger for to morrow's work. It is enough
to be anxious and careful all da\: ?\en 1
ing should refresh jour mind with cheer
fulness.'
'True words, Mary ; and I will try to
profit hv them. It does tne good to see
the sunshine lit your face again.'
'You can always bate it there, it you
wiH,' she answered.
'I cat- !'
Yer ; but onlt reflected sunshine. 1
an ':!;> l ie u.i.on, and shine by l*?rrowed
o^lit. it clouds cover your face, mice
tuus'. lie ir darkness.
That wna an evenitig memorable in
aflerliines, as the happiest one they had
known for months, if r ot for years. Mn
ry's aspect changed in an hour, so entire
Iv, that she scarcely seemed like the same
person. A neighbor who dropped in dur
ing the evening, said : 'liow much belter
you look, Mrs. Lester ! I'm really g'*d
to see it.'
'I feel much !>etter than I have fell for
a long time,' she teplied.
liar husband looked and listened in
? _ l< _ I ?T .
wnnoer *no nfiiTcnunc. uncle 1'lin. ?
new remedy working i>ke h 'charm '
Can it be possible,' he said to himself.
Mist the cause of hei low spirit* end lail
irate health, lie* at my door t IIma she
heen **sating, like a plant deprived of
sunshine f I did not dream of this.?
Women are different fro/U men. I have
not comprehended my wife.*
In the morning Mrs. Lester looked
cheerful, and moved aliout with a I girt
uess of step to which she had been for
months a ranger. There was even
warmth in the cheeks that had been col
orleas so long; a warmth that gave them
the appearance of roundness.
How is Mary, to day r asked Uncle
Phil., who called at the store of his neph*
ew.
'She's belter, I thank you.'
Ah; I'm glad to hear you say so. Did
you try my remedy!' The old man stui
led, and Les'.er smiled back in bis face.
Did you try it!'
Ye.'
'And it acted right V
'Like a charm 1'
'I knew it would,' said the old man,
gleefully. '1 knew it would 2 Why, you
moody fellow ! you were killing your wife.
Woman must have a little sunshine at
honta or lh?*j will die. Acd so Mary ia J
better, daar heart 1 I ?? mre that *??
mII ?lto wanted. It waa aura 1 bad the
rijflit remedy,'
'If there ?h<>ukl l>? on re'apae *
'Relapse! There can be u *r?UpM, un
I'M you take home a rtirfnl fare. Let
lu'f tee you Ml**)* cheerful and hnjieful,
and my ??>rd for it, tham will be no going
back aptrii*
'lint, Uocie Phil,' aaid tlia young man,
'how am I always to look cbewrful and
hopeful, whan my mind ia burdennd with
carat It requiting ??/ nta a grant dual
itrort-, I am afraid, than I can tits,'
'ptd ja*r worrying all through th? i
evening ever help you a particle on the >
next day, Harry V asked the old man. ,
*1 don't know tliHt it did ; still 1 could ;
not help worrying.'
*1 know belter. You can help worry- 1
ing, if you will. You helped it last night ; '
didn't you !' I
'Yes.'
'And you can help it to night and to
morrow night, if you will.'
'How ?'
'Think of your wife's health and happi I
ness. That should be motive enough, !
surely, to cause a little self denial.'
'Self denial. Uncle Phil.'
fur I think you must have a cor ]
tail: eniox merit in the*? .i.io. i
you would nut indulge them so often.? |
Your own reason tells you that they are 1
fruitful of great harm. Hut a deeper r?-a
son why they should cease is, that they j
involve dis'rust in Providence. Harry,
you are in the hands of one who knows '
your wants, ami who will see that they
are provided for just in the degree that is i
hest for your eternal as w ell as y our earth j
ly good. No anxicus care; no dread of !
coming disaster ; no gloomy disirust or 1
dialing doubis will change the events of
to-morrow. They are to he ministers of :
good to you, though not always in the
way you have desired. Is it not the i
worst of foily, man, to sit brooding in j
darkness because til- affairs of your daily |
life do not shape themselves according to i
your short sighted planniiigs ? Yoii can I
help ibis unhappy brooding over what j
cannot be changed, and v?>u must <lo it.'
*1 will try,' answered the young man.
'You must try, and succeed also. Let I
tbeie be no giving up or going back.?
Habit-is second nature. You have fallen
into bad habit. Break it up with a vig
oroiis band, and go work in the forma
lion of a good habit. After awhile you '
will find it as easy to carry home a pleas
ant face as you now do a clouded one.? |
And ihink what a wonderful difference it ;
will make in your home !'
When the day vent down, nnd Lestei
turned his steps homeward, he felt tlie
old dstk steles falling like funeral dra
pery around Inm. Tiiere had heeti noth
tug in the day's business of an unusually {
depressing character. It had heen a fair .
(lay's business, and he should have been I
satisfied. Hut having indulged a tn >rbid
sav of looking at things t> > long, his |
mind had taken on a diseased action, !
and now thero was a depression of spir- i
its that it seemed impossitde to throw otl
Thus it was with hun w| e i fie ascended |
the steps of his dwelling, and reached i
out his hand to Open the door
'This will not do,' he said, pausing.? I |
And he stood still at the unopened door
for some moments. 'I shall mar every- ,
thing' |
Then he descended the steps and t
passed up the street. i
'It will never do in the world to carry I
this face home to Mary. 1 must trv and i
find a better one. What a firm grip this i
fiend of brooding distrust hss taken ! I I
111 UMt shake liiin oil And I Mill !' Thus I t
li*? talked wiili himself, an lie simile [ i
h war.
In len minutes Lester whs back Spain j t
st (us own door; urn) now be turned tbe .
key Htni entered wiiliout hesitation, lie | i
had shaken oil the fiend, and had n i
smile, a kirs, Hiid a pleasant word for 1 i
Mary, which gave new life to her pulses, <
and sent the warm blood in Hushes of |
beauty 10 her face. j t
Two applications of Uncle l'hil.'s rem j i
edy was enough to satisfy Henry Lester 1
of the real cause of his wife's disease ; 1
and to assure him, that he had only to '
continue as he had b?gun, to make Cer 1
a n of a speedy cure. He found the '
reinedv good for himself also. His own
mind had been diseased as well as the
mind ? f his wife ; but now lie felt like a '
new man. Ileal h was flowing through '
tiis veins, a:id giving him a sense of en- I
joyment to which he had been a si run 1
ger for years. <
A Perfect Wife I 1
Edmund Hurke, lite orator, was a man j |
of parts, and liis btau iJeul of a perfect I '
wile it worthy of consideration by our I '
fair friends. Here it is:
'A perfect wife is handsome, hut it Is ! t
not a beauty arising from the features, | c
from complexion, or from shape. She ! *
has all three in high decree ; hut it is f
m t bv these that she touches the neari I t
? It is all that sweetness of temper, he | I
nevolenee, innocence, sensihilitv, which a , f
fact can express, that forms her beauty t
She has a lace that just rouses jour at *
lention at first sight ; it grows upon yon c
every moment ; and you wonder that K f
did not more thanraise attention at liisl. ( ?
Her eyes have a mild light, hut they awe *
wlien she pleases? (lie command, like a t
good man out ol office, not by authority, t
hut by virtue, Her stature is not tall? i t
.1... .. 1- -- ? -1
nn nut umue to o?> i ne admiration (if v
every one. She has (lie firmness that ?
does not exclude delicacy?ail the soft1 *
nets that docs not imply weakness. IIor ; (l
voice is soli, low music, not formed to 1
rule in public assemblies, hut to charm t
(hone who can distinguish a company *
from a crowd ; it has its advantage ; you *
must come close to hear it. To deecrilm , '
her body, describe mind?one is (be <
transcript of the other. Her understand ^
ding is not showr. in the variety of mat- , 1
ter it exerts itself upon, hut the goodness > I
of choice she manes Her politeness flows I
rather from a natural natural disposition 1
to oblige, than any rules on that s?.t ject, 1 >
and therefore never fails to strike those i '
who understand good breeding and thoee ' >
who do not, 11
Interesting N arrative I
Our reader* have been made familiar j
wiih ilie capture of Mrs. I'a^e and a
young girl by Apaclu Indians id Arizona
llie search for tliem, uul the *ltnos' mi- !
raculous escape of Mn. l'age. A Tubae |
correspondent sends it t'nw Missouri liepubiicati
the following personal history of
the all.or :
Namuativkof Mas.Lauhkni A Pack.
? I had been married but little over two!
months, and wan livin/witli tny liusband i
Mr. J. H. Page, in i. rude calm at the 1
mouth of a grand canon leadug to the
pmerv of the Santa Rita mountains. Our
family consist* d of ni)se!f and husband, a
nttle Mexican girl, e|ev*n yean of age, ,
Mi.sue Knkiaiitl, and Mr. \\ m Randall, 1
win) wan engaged wiili id> htsbatid in ,
the lumber business
On the morning of ibc lCil of March,
after an early breakfast, Illy husband left
us ill camp for ibe put pose ol pulling
some iurXit 'tiio Iv wink, and Yr. litndall
going out in kill a deer, Nli-a e and my
self were let" qure alone. 11 was washing
iIm\, I bad staried to piocure none water
when the little girl sere lined and said the
Apaches wero on ns. I bey eume np in I
a run. Having a six sbooier (Colt's re- j
voiver) in my nantl I turned lo tire at 1
lliem, bill tbev were already s? dose that I
befure i could pull ibe trigger tney rush- j
eil upon me and secured ibe weapon.? j
They ti en proceeded lo plunder, seizing
on everything they could earrv < IF? Ib.ur
blankets, clothing, ?&c J atid, i >1 satisfied !
wiib tbis, they desnoved ibe balance.?
e ballooed and screamed fo'assistance,
bul tlie Indians struck me wnb their Ian
res and told ns to keep qnie', or tbey !
would kill us. I liey packed up what j
'.Iiev could lake, and marched us oil", |
baud in b ind, hi a hurried ami barbarous |
manner. Alter proceeding tiius for a I
rjuarter of a mile tbey separated us in or ]
tier to prevent our talking together, the
little girl being a little in advance of me.
We travelled thus all day, over a very
rocket and mountainous road, pene'ra
ting deeper and deeper into the mountain
and dually almost reached the summit.?
Having suth-r-d much lroin re< eut a',
tacks of fever and ague, I was in a very
tMdVehled condition, totally it.adequate for
I lie tangoes of such a journey ; ami my j
inability lo travel at lliespetd which tbey |
iltsired was ibe cause ol mi receiving ibe I
iimai brutal treatment al the'r bands,?
I'lury (uveriil iiiuvi pointed a six-shooter I
st my bead, as miitli as to say that my |
f*u? whh HlrcKdy decided upon, ami tlial ,
l was to be mad** a vicntn of suv?^e Lar i
liarily. Tliu Ii11Its *?irt, wlio was ahead, J
would occasional1!' la<! back. crying, and I
eil ints tliat ili? Indian* ?vre going to
kill us. 'liu'y spoke l>ut I it i its S | >* 111 m 11,
pet enough was understood to awaken
in fears and fid ine with apprehension.
I knew that my sliengtli, which was rap
dlv tailiiiL', would admit of inv proceed
ng but I it tits farther, and that utiles* inv
lushand and other parties were following
o rescue us, 1 must lali a victim as soon
is inv strength entirely failed.
\\ e bad proceeded llius a bo ill sixteen ,
niles, as nearly as my limited ideas ol j
balance will enafile me to judge, and I
iow lagged behind so much that my *?v J
me captors grew inipalient, and resolved
o kill me. I hey stripped ine of my I
slothing, including my shoes, and left me I
ill a single garment. They llieti thrust !
heir lancet at me.inlhcting eleven wounds :
n my body, threw me over a ledge of |
auks or precipice, some sixteen or eigh
een feet li gh, and hurled large stones at
er me, to iiw.ke sure of their victim, and
hell left me, supposing thai I liillsl die,
mil too barbarous to end inv iniserv bv
ntnelv exiinguishing the spark of life
I Ills ocelli red near sunset. I hail nine |
atue wounds in my hack slid two in m\
iiin. and my head was cut in several
daces hv the rocks which were thrown
Iter me, hut most of the latter glanced I
without striking me.
1 had alighted oil a hank of snow, al
ltost in a state ??t nudity, and in a sense
e?s coiuii'ion. In counting ti|i inv tain
ling places before reaching hon e, I ihn.k
! must have laid there in a stale of on
:onst ions ties* for near three da\s. When
< cattle lo > I look some snow and put on
ny wounds. 1 recollected the direction
tavelled and t'.ie position of the sun from
amp at sunset, and with these guides
larled for hoi|te. My feet gave out the
irsl day, and I was compelled to crawl I
he (D' st of the distance. Did not dare
n go dow n to the foot of the mountain, i
or fear I could find no water, atnl was
Serefore compelled to keep in the steep {
md rocky mountain. S iitetimes, after
rawling up a steep ledge, laboring hard j
or half a day, I would loose mv fooling, j
n d slide d<>w n lower ilian the p!a< e Irom |
Ouch 1 started. As I had no tire, and '
io clothing, I suffered very much from I
he cold. I was at a point said to he six
hotisand feet above the sea, and only |
fonder i bat I did not freeze. I scratchi
>d holes in the sand at night in which to
leep, and before I could travel was oldi
[ed to wait for the sun to warm me up.
trave ed what I could every day, and .
he meantime h u| to subsist on grass
done. On ibo fourteenth day I reached j
i camp o( some workman in the pinery, 1
which was untenanted There I found '
mine flour which had been spilled on the
pound. Tl?# fire wee not quite out, end
I kindled it up. 8c raped up eome of the
lour end mnne n Utile cuke, the flr?t
in*! I lied tutted tinre I left home. J
en* now nenr the workmen in the pinery
ind within two mile* of mv home, hut
*n* too weak to go on I could hear the
itrn *! work, *nd eotnelinte* ww thein,
H|t could not *Ur?ct their Attention. At l
length I crawled along to the road over
which i hey rn'iet pans, and whs found i
there and carried hoine, after being out j
sixteen days.
What Divers Meet With.
When the vessel has settled down in a i
sandy bottom, it is preserved for many V
months from breaking up, and its posi' j t
Hon may he much the same as it would <
he when floating in calm water, if it be i y
not lilted over by under current drifts.? j *
The light, ol course, depends upon the |
depth and nature ot the bottom ', but ;
where there is no chalk to give a miller I
.1.1- . .1
wiicMifis* iu ine waier, ino uiver pursues j s
Ins w??k in :t lcinil of gloomy twilight.? i
liy the aid of this he can see and feel his ' 1
way round the ship ; hut when he as* I I
vends the deck ami winds his way down ' 1
into the principal cabins, he funis it pitch 1
da;k, and has nothing to gir.de him hut I
Ins hands. 1 Ins is the most diilicult, and i '
\el the most Irequeiil lahor lie has to en , i
counter ; the danger being that, in a | i
large vessel, where the cabin slaiis are , i
deep, anil the cabins are long and broad, j I
he must get Ins air-tube twisted round i
some unfamiliar projection, and to
squeeze oil his supply ol life Irom above.
In positions such as this he requires all I
Ins nerve and self possession, all tiis pow
nrof feeling his way back in the exact i
road thai lie came. I i
He may have got the precious casket, |
to which lie has been directed, in his !
arms, hut what of thai if lie die before i
he can tind the stairs ? The cold, help
icss masses that hump against hi lod j i
met, as they float along the lower roof i
over Ins head, are the decomposed corp- ; <
ses of those w ho were huddled together :
when the sir.p went down. A few- of I
these may he on the floor under his fee'., !
hut only when pinned down by an over1 j'
turned table or a fallen chest, f^eir ten i
dency is et?*r upward, and the remorse* 1
less sea washes away the dead infant '
from its dead mother's arms, the dead .
husband's embrace. If the wreck he in i
the channel, the small crabs are already I
beginning to fatten on their prev. I
Thedivtr disentangles himself from i
this silent crowd, and ascendsthesile.il t
smii.*. to the deck. The treasure he has I
i :. I i . i ? : .. i
U91UVU is IInuIt'll IIJ> 1IIIO IIIO Hlienoat 1 I
diving boat, ami lie returns again to re j
new nis work. He seldom meet* wjib
an accident under water ; never, perhaps, J ]
wnli (leatli ; and the clnef risk lie runs is , t
fioiii getting home heavy |>i? ce of ship I
luinher ovei turned on Lu long train ol '
air pipe. Kvi'd in tliis ha feels the sud
den check and the want of air, gropes
his was back 10 the obstruction, removes
it, signals to Ins companions to be raised,
and reaches the boat exhausted anil | '
alarmed, hut not so muah as to give up j 1
his place in the trade. IIis earnings 1
tnostlv lake the form of shares in what , 1
lie recovers. If lorlunaie, his gains may
he large, if unfortunate, they may lie '
small ; b it no man can grudge him the 1
highest prizes it is possible tor him to '
Will. (
What Kaii.koaos iiavr Done.? i
Many persons, shutting their eyes to facts |
and circumstances plain hh the sun at | ;
noon (Ihv, obstinately insist tlinl kail,
roads have been productive of little benefit,
except to slock holders. It is waste of
11iGti^rlit to argue with such dolls, and
the common-sense course would be to *
leave tbein to their ignorance. Perhaps
of all who receive benefit from railroads,
the stockholders, directly, get the small'
e.-l share. 1 he landed interest, the mer
Cantile, the manufacturing, and industrial
ti e-e are chiefiy benefitted. Put that is
not ail. Railroad* are institutions pe
cuoar lo this age. and exert an influence
upon civilization, the comforts o| life, and .
economy of lime. They render homo
geneons (lisiaiil peopU8, and bring nearer
individuals of reinoto countries, l'hey
pour streams of li e through legions that :
would otherwise Lie undeveloped and pri
nn val?ihey h?-ar produce from the most
distant find, ami return manufactured
g-? ds and life's necessaries. Put lor
mem interior land would yield no reiuu
ne'ation to the tanner beyond precarious
support. The river wa)? would inonopo
I ze demand, and owners of lands along
their banks would control the markets.? I
Railroad* are to the in'erior what rivers i
are to contiguous land?ofieiing a rapid 1
highway lo markets. Contrast time and i
price, in the following illustration, with <
the saving in both at this daf : On the f
23d Februan, 1797, Mr. Jrff^rsOO left t
Alexandria, Va, lur Philadelphia, to riis t
charge l>;? duties as ViceiP etmtnt. He i
readied thai city on the 2d of March, at r
a cost ol $37.03, and eight days'tune I j
Now the cost is $4 60, and the lime 4 12 0
hours.
It is not man that civilizes man ; but I
the efforts of man. Steamboats, canals, i
railroads?power press**, spinning jennies f
mowers.plowers, reapers-??ve?. even cornshellers,
are civihzeiw. JLet Old Fogv 1
stand out of I lie way progress, if he j
will not aid its advance, or be will be en <
tangled in some cow catcher 1 1
<
Facts?if you invest your money in a <
tiiiH hooae and do not cultivate your '
mind and U?te ?o aa to adorn it with in- '
leHigence and refinement, it ia aa if you 1
were to wear broad-cloth and a ailk hat '
to mill. '
If you inveat yoyr money in fine 1
clothe* and do not wear them with dignity
and eaae, it ia aa If a plowman were
to ait at a jeweller's table to (pake and
adjnat hair apnnga. 1 <
If von inveat yowr money In atrong |
drink, it ia the aaine aa turning hungry |
boga into a growing corn field?ruin will j
follow in both caatra 1
^uiilhuj lltnmag,
I
What Must I Do 1
What then must you do ? Just keep J
n miua whnt you are not to do. Just ,
ceet> in miud that you are not to do God's ,
vork ; that you are not to regenerate your .
)?n heart; filial ton aro not to make |
ourself perfect; and that you are tot to I
lit still, lu the midst of your tremendous j
perils and responsibilities, doing nothing
?and 1 will tell you. In one word? I
Lake Christ's yoke. Begin?begin his j
tervice- Go to your closet?go out under
Lhe vault of heaven ? oo Rtivuhfrn vrni
0 J / J
will, and make a coveiient with Christ, j
that whatsoever lie tells you lo do, lliat .
yon will do. And, '.hen, begin and do it.
Now, my beloved, but bewildered, fel- I
low ail.tier, bow simple a tiling this is!? j
There is no metaphysical mummery about
it. 1'liere is no clashing, no jargon of j
incons'siencies in this. There is no mist i
and darkness. It is sunshine ; sunshine
because it is clear?sunshine because, if
you come to it, it will cheer your soul, it
will gladden your eye. It will warm you i
with the glow of life that angels feel. It
will reveal to you the glories which an
angel sees. It will move your heart to
such melody as an angel makes io heaven.
Come?away from your halting
place ; away from that miserable position
where doubts and fancies beclould and j
Rcare you like the mists and bowlings of
a tempest. Come?lake the yoke of
Christ upon vcu. This is ail you have
to do. liegin his service. Make yourself
over ro him?body and soul.
Hut yon ask ? is this aii ? Is this Scriptural
? Must 1 not first "repent V must
I not first "believe 1" must I not first
'come unto Christ?" My dear reader?
no. Take Christ's yoke. Adopt his ser
vice. This is?"repentance." This is?
faith." ..This?is "coming unto Clnist."
And, all the while, you have been trying
*!ter faith and repentance just as though
they were something different. And that
ias been yonr snare. That has been j
four stumbling block. And if you cleave |
o that, you will be bound band and fool i
>y your own doctrines; you will be dash- j
>d to pieces, and ground to powder, by j
,'our own devices.
Your n?ih is plain. Your duty is simile,
however much it may involve. Take j
he yoke of Christ. Serve hiin. Serve j
1) ! - ? - l?
mi. wegui 10 uay. lxegm now.?
'Lessons at tub Chops"
I'luity of C n vHal i kr.?Over tlie
teauiy of the plum and apricot there I
;rowa a bloom and beauty more exquisite j
bail the fruit itself; a soil, delicate Hush
hat overspreads its blushing cheek. Now j
f you strike your hand over that, it is i
jone forever, lor it ne'er grows but once.
The flower that "isngs in the morning,
rnpeailed w ith dew, arrayed as no queeny
woman over was arrayed in jewels,
nice shake it till their heads roll ofi", and
/on may sprinkle water over it as you
dense, yet it can nevor he made again
a1 hat it was when the dew fell silently
ipon it from Heaven! On a frosty morn- I
ng you may see the panes of glass cov ]
trod with landscape, mountains, lakes, j
ind I re "8, blending in a beautiful, fantas- |
ic picture. Now lay your hand upon the j
;!ass, and by the scratch of your finger !
>r by the warmth of your palm, all the j
lelicate tracery will he obliterated. So
hero is in youth a beauty and purity of i
haracler, which when once touched and
lefiled can never be restored, a fringe
nore delicate llian frost work, and which,
when torn and broken, will never be re I
mbroidered. A man who has spot'ed
ind sidled his garments in voiuli, though
is may seek to make tliem white again,
ran never wholly do it, even were he to
wash them with his tears. When a
roung man leaves his father's house with
he blessing of his mother's tears wet upon
tis forehead, if he once losses that purity j
>f character, it is a Lss that he can never ;
nake whole again Such is the conse.
jucnce of crime.- Its effects cannot be erad*
caied, it can only be forgiven.
A Citii.n'aTKRTiMONY ?.1 ames , a
toy of twelve, went into the house of a
uighbor where a sweet bnbe lay dying.
I he chilli was in convulsions, and the pa
ents were weeping in agony. 11 i? ten
ler heart was melted with sympathy and
ear as lie looked 01: death for the ffrsl
ime. When he was leaving the house [
he father observed that he seemed anx
otis tossy something, though his utter !
mce was choked with tears. 'What were
rou going to say, James f said the fall)
ir.
'Only, sir, that you ought to be very
hankful that it is Eva that's dying; for
f it was Johnny ; you could have no hope
or his soul, ami you know Eva is safe.'
Johny was Eva's brother, and of the !
>aine age with James Some persons mj?
>ear to wonder if children of that age
an become Christiana. Here ia teatimo
iiv from the lipa of a b >y religiously edu
:ated, who when he aaw death, felt his
>wn and his young companion's danger,
ind nefd of salvation. We trust little
Eva is safe with Ilim who 'carried the
ambs in his bosctn but how would it
i hi with the young readers of thin paper
r>f the age of James and Johny' should
ihey be suddenly called to meet Go! f
The foundation of domestic happiness
is faith in the virtue of woman ; the foun
dation of all political happiness is confi
dence in the integrity of man ; and the
l9und|i|o|i of alt happiness, temporal and
eternal, ia reliance oo the goodness of
God.
lt|rirultarul.
The Management of Manures.
It may fairly and naturally be expec
ted (bat in to olu a practice as the management
of a mass of faun-yard manure,
tliere should exist uniformity, and tbat
at the present lime tbe opinions of practical
farmers on tbe subiect would ho
guided by well attested principle*, liut
it is not so. Fanners entertain conflic'
ting notions on the matter, which are
clearly evidenced in their practice. A
practical agriculturist of our acquaintance,
tor instance, adopts the following
plan. As soon as the site of his manure
beap is ciear he puts on it a layer of clay
12 inches deep, places over this the dung .
and covers it with another layer of earth,
liwt the point in which he considers his
system superior to all others, is frequent
turnings. Lie turns it over no lees than
six tunes, covering it each time wdth a
little earth. We heard his story with
attention, and that deference due to a
successlul practical man. There is something
in it to commend ; but it seems to
us objectionable to turn manure so frequently
as six times in a season. Another
agnculturist, equally distinguished,
puts all bis dung into a hollow avera|
guig G feel bet eatii the surface, never
touches it till required for use ; and ex*
I piesses h;s couvicliou that turning manure
is a wasteful practice, and that he
secures all the 'juices' of the dung. In
reference to this part of our subject, it
uiay be remarked?1st, That in turning
manure there can be no material loss of
fertilizing ingredients, if the heap is properly
rebuilt, and covered over wjib
mould at once. 2o, It does not, however,
seem advisable to turn manure so fre*
quontly, as it induces too rapid decay. If
the heap is built properly, one turning,
and at lartberest two, is quite sufficient.
With us it is turned over and completely
mixed about a month before rt is required
for the green crops. 3d, For some
crops which require rapid forcing, it may
ue desirable to turn (be mauure over
twice, so as to promote its putrefaction ;
but if a farmer has to buy artificial manures,
some guano cr vitriolUed bones
seem belter calculated to force on the
\outig plants than any, other manure,
atid, after all, no matter how skillfully
managed, farm'sard manure undergoes a
loss when its putrefaction goes bevond a
certain stage.
Stirring the Soil in Drouth
Our article of last week on this topic
will show how far we concur or disagree
with the extracts btlow. The subject ia
of special interest at this dry hut season
to every planter gardener <kc., and we
give both sides.
An old topic, surely, but one of the
greatest practical importance. An old
topic, hut one about which men are not
agreed in opinion. There i6 theory and
practice on both sides. Some farmera
hold (hat stirring the earth in dry weath
er, injures llie roots of plants, aud exposes
the soil to tlie sun and tlie diy air so
much, as to do more harm than good.?
lint the other side of the question, has,
also, its good arguments. We will hint
at one or two :
Frequent stirring of the soil in drouih
renders it more porous, and so fits it absorb
moisture from the atmosphere, and
to draw it up from the wet subsoil. By
being frequently broken up it becomes
like a sponge. Any one can easily sat*
isfy hunselt of this. Go into your garden
and loosen up the soil over a space
of a few feet square, and then see if, foe
several mornings alter, that patch is not
moist, while the surrounding surface is
dry ? A neighbour of ours had a potato
patch last summer, which being in a
warm and sandy soil became badly
parcbed in July. The stalks dropped,
and a total loss of the crop was threatened.
Here was a fair subject for a desperate
experiment. Accordingly on one
of the hottest and d-yest days of the
month, he gave them a thorough nlow
w O I
ing. passing lite plow four limes through
etch lurrow, first plowing two furrowa
from the hills, and then returning the
ground bsck by two other furrows. No
ram fell for ten days after. In three days,
the vines stood eiect hiuI began to tako
on a dark green color and lo grow again.
The soil was moistened by the dews of
every night ; the crop was saved, and it
proved quite an abundant one.
Again : the stirring of the soil in
drouth renders tbe earth a poorer con1
duclor of beat than it would be if it remained
unbroken and bard. Every one
knows that a stone or an? metallic substance
i) ing in tbe sun, becomes bolter
than a bunch of cotton, because it is a
better conductor of heat. 80, when the
surface 01 the earth becomes baked and
hard, it absorbs heat much more than
when it is broken and pulve-'aed. In a
well tilled garden, the ground, two or
three inches below tbe surface, is quit*
cool at midday. It is partly on the same
principle, that a few inches of mulching
material will keep the ground cool and
: .11 a.._ I n i- ?- -
muisi nil summer mug. iii'iite, il la 6UT
to see tl>tat stirring the toil in drouth will
keep the root* ol plants cool and moist,
and so promote the growth.
Hut let the theory he ea it may the
fact remains, that through tillage la the
best possible security against drouth.?
Ex.
Cur Cake.?One cup better ; 3 do,
I auger ; 1 do. water ; 5 do. flour; 3 eggg
, 1 teaspoon cream tartar ; 12 soda ; unt?
I meg.