Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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h IT 1.4. A Family Coi-ptennoll, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News,Agiutr, ares&c Vol. X. WEDNE]SDAY MORNING, JULY 1, 1874 7hE H ER AL 'D IS UILSlI F"VEPy %V'1E,,S,1)Ay CtiG it Newberry .i. Byf PHog. F. GRRNIKKR !-YZPThepaper is stop%ped :,,the expir2liOn Of tinte for whih it is Paid. 7~The X mairk denote- espiratiou of sub '"THERVIS A SILVER, LINING To EVERY C~LOUD." - BY EiLIZA COOK. The poe t or prie-t who told us thi:z Serred maDkind in the holiest %v; For it lit up,,he earth withb ihe,,,r,-,r of bliss That hcecons the soul with cheerfal ray. Too oftea we %rapder despairiotg andl blind, Bre.athing uur useless inurm'urs alond; &At 'tis kinder to bit" us seek wizd flud "A ,ilver lining %o eve%yV a)l. May we not walk in the dingle ground Where nothing but Auturni1's dead leaves tire seen; But scorch bencezh them, and peeping around Are the :)ung Snring tufts of blue and gpreen, 'Tis a be-autiful eye that ever perceives The p)resence of God in 3Tortality's crowd, 'ris a .-,ving creed -zha* tbinks and believes "Tht:--'s u.silver liuing to every cloud.' Let us look closely before we condemn Buqbcs that bear nor bloom nor fruit, There may not be be-au ty in leaves or stem, SBut virtue tuay dwell far down att the root, And let u3 beivare how we utterly spurn Brothers that seem all cold and proudl, If their bosoms were opened, perchanc we mig,ht learn "There'S a si'mer lining to evet ,u.. Let us n ot cuast out Merey and Truth, When Guilt is before us ir. chairs and .shame, When passion, and vic have caffl,ered Voutb, And Age lives on with a Lranded 11.me; Something of good nmy still Le there, Though its voice may neyer be lie3rd aloud, P-or hile hlAek with the vapons of pe stilent sharp-featured countenance, lighted . el, 'Is De are you de idng upmn the answer vou sa give? You've been siking nearl; three seconds." And Mrs. St. Aylmer held he: open watch in her hand, with ar air of particla.r sarcasm that al way checd impatient, high-spiritc Bessie. "Mr answer is what it has beer ever since you missed your jewels I know nothing about them. An I am not going to be accusad any longer of the theft, when I am a innocent as yourself." Her eves shot fire now, regard less of the little incredulous laugla that came from Mrs. St Aylincr'i lips. "Indeed! Be good enough to tel: me what you propose doing. then ? ] may be able to assist you in your contemplated departure." "You are cruel, Mrs. St. Aylmer. You think I don't understand what yoa mean. You think I don't know that von refer to my removal as a branded thief. Mrs. St. Aylmer vou treat In as an ignorant child. when I am sixteen years old." She spoke passionately, and toss. ed back the nasses.of hair from her iace. "Yes," rejoined the lady softly, "you are a young lady of sixteen who has stolen my diamonds, and who is trying to steal my son Archie's heart. Poor-, pitiful fooll" Her cold, fiendish manner almost maddened Bessie, and she sprang towards her like a lioness. A firm, strong arm canght her, and faced her about. "What is all this ? Mother, you rang. Bessie, what. do you mean What's the matter " Archibald St. Aylmer glanced from the pale, wrathful face of his mother to the glowing cheeks and fiery eyes of the girl. "Mean? It means that this girl is a low born thief-" Bessie raised her hand wit.i a commanding gesture and a light in her eyes the lady dared noi oppose by further speech. Then she turned to the young MCn, he eyes fixed steadily on his wonder, ing face and a forced calm in het quiet, dignified tones. "Your mother accuses me of wil fully stealing and hiding the set 01 diamonds vou gave her a fortnighi ago. Not satisnied with that she insults me by saying I-I am seek. Her cheeks flamed hotly, and bei voice quivered. Then; burstin.g in to tears, she turned away. "Finish it, young lady ! Tell hiur I say you are dead in love with him that you are scheming and plan ning to entrap him into a marriage or something worse ; that ." "Mother-enougb ! You a r speaking unreasonably. You stal that child every time you utter s word, and you insult me." But there was a kinalling o: his grave eyes, and a flushing o0 his dark eheek~s, as he glanced a the bowed graceful head weeping in the corner. "Bessie, child, tell me. Did yom take the jewels? Answer me Godi~ truth. Look at ne, child!"* Archibald St. Aylmer was twen tyseven, and lie never dreamnei that his mother's little dependan was aught more than a foolish child ready for a game of romps, or e doll; but now she lifted her eyes 1those deep wells of woman's love and met his earnest, sorrowfua glance. Perhaps her gaze confirmei his mother's word; perhaps a reve laion lay in those amber-brow1 depths. At any rate, Archibald St Aylmer felt a str'ange thrill quive: over him, and he knew his fael glowed as he turned away from her Her clear voice followed after he: eyes. I"Mr. St. Aylmer, I never so mued as saw the diamonds since the firs night your mother wore them. never kne'w they were gone till sh' accused me of stealing Nks. A scornful curl wreathed Mrs St. Aylmer's lips. "Suppose you keep on, Mist Brown, and inform us if the othe: Icharge be true ?" "Mother !" and Mr. St. Aylme: spoke sternly ; but Bessie, wit] glowing cheeks and misty eyes estepped proudly forward. "I am not ashamed to confess if I am going away, Mr. St. Aylmei and you'll hever see me or hear c me again. I'm nobody but a poo unknown orphan y ou receive through charity, and treated as sort of confidant or dependent ; an therefore it's a shame for any on to think or care for me. But I an a woman, Mr. St. Aylmer," and he voice grew tenderly low and mus: cal ; "and I have learned to love go2 I can't help it. You'll forgive me Yes, I love you, with all my hear1 with all my strength, all my life. porB'i rwn ormte humbl BesseBon,dyort mthe She cauhtensdan d,kise - passionately, and fled from the I room-from the house-from the 7 neighborhood. After then, when Mrs. St. Aylner wondering wvhy Archie was so t grave and silent, she did not dream - it was for pity for the strange, ec [centric child: nor did be himself remember that pity is aln to love. And the diamonds ? Never were missing goods enveloped in a more impenetblJe shade of mystery. They were not found, and poor Bes sie's character was the repository of the burdensome stigma. Nine o'clock of a sunshiny win ter morning, and the elegantly laid tite-a tete table in the breakfast par lor of the Jermvn mansion in Gros venor square, was yet undisturbed by the two ladies sitting opposite each other. "Stella. I thought young Fitz james would not wait long before he asked permission to call. Here is a very piteous note, entreating your sovereign favor. He's' evi dently in love with your dark eyes Can." Jessie Evremond laughed as she sp.tke and stately Estelle Jermyl shook her proud little head reprov ingly. "I hope not, Jessie, chere. You know I disapprove of flirting. If I should encourage Fitzjames, he could only be disappointed in the end." "And don't you ever intend to miarry any qbody, Stella ?" asked her f::icnd and visitress, Miss Evre mond. "There are a dozen of discon solate lovers waiting for you to re verse your decision." Miss Jermyn's dark eyes gazed thoughtfilly at the glowing fire in the grate. ' Yoa know my reason, Jessie, for not marrying. Never until I accomplish my aelf-iiaposec. tasl uever, till the one I love, and only love, asks me to be his wife, will I ever think of it." Jessie Evremond's merry laugh rippled daintily forth as she sipped her chocolate. " You are an enigma, Stella; you~ always were, and I fear you al Iways will be. As for me, I am glad I've no task to do before I can become engaged. And as for wait ing for the loved one to come, why Stella, my idol has been enshrined these three months." Jessie's soft blue eyes lighted up as~ she apqke. half saucily, half-shy "Your cousin, Fitzjamnes, perhaps? You are so interested in his wel fare." Miss .Jermyn suggested the name quietly without looking up. "No, indeed! I mean-you'll never tell, Stella. krling ?-but, oh, if you knew how I worshipped Archibald St. Aylmer !" A gray, fierce light shot out of Miss Estell3 Jermyn's brown eyes,. which innocent Jessie noticed not. "At the Fitzjames' last night, he was so attentive ; and at the conclu sios, he s@ he never enjoyed a dance in his life like that redow'a. I was his partner, you know.' Oh, Stella, 1 could die for that man !"I -TIae gra~y shade had passed off Estelle J'ermyn's face, and shLe was herself again.I "Ye3, Mr. St. Aylmer is a fine man, a handsome man. Every one admires him." - She spoke very quietly and then I his name was dropped; and while one of the two young ladies nmade -music in her heart by the speechless repetition of his name, the other .was striving to conquer the rebel lious adoration anti agony in her. * * * * * "I gm going to bring her to see you to-morrows mother. You will love her: you can't help it, she is so beautiful, so lady-like, so intelli L gent." ~Mrs. Ayhner 'was proudly gazing 3 upon her son. "For your sake, my boy, I shall -both admire and love her. But, Archie, has she promised to marry ou?" e "No, not in words, yet her eyes declare it; her whole manner en dorses her affection. But if she 1 refuse me-" ,"Refuse you, my son! Tll.e yq. man never lived who could do that !" -He laughed. , "You are my mother. you know, f and prejudiced, I fear. However, I only hope Miss Jermyn will agree i with you." S"Miss Jermyn. is the lady, then ? i I have met her once or twice. She 3 is very rich, they say; but she is, i reserved, stately, with a hauteur in r her style." ."When in company, yes ; but .alone, oh, mother she is not the same woman-so1unspeakably ten , der and charming." , "I am glad, for your sake. And, s Archie, if you do marry her, let my ift to her be the diamond set you + ga e tn replace those that the ungrateflI Bessie stole. It~s cu riouS, Archie, we never heard of her. Hark! there is the luncheon bell." Alone in her boudoir Stella Jer myn was sitting, her dark, brilliant ey-s fixed upon a letter that lay open upon the little ebony stand before her. Her face radiant radiant with love and joyousness had never been so beautiful before; and as she re-read the passionate love-avowal that bore Ahie St. Aylmer's signature, a warmer glow lighted up her eyes. Beside her lay a velvet-lined casket, upon whose purple cushion reposed a set of di:. mond jewelry, flashing and se:ntil latin)g in rare prismatic beauty. "At last-at last! Nine years of weary waiting; fiv years of povertv; four years of sudden wealth-the accumulation of a miserly relative, who little dreamed he was hoarding his riehes for an unknown niece and now Providence has fulfilled my destiny ! My self-appointed task is accomplished; the diamonds are found, thanks to my unweary ing- detective. And then Archie St. Aylmer has returned,all anconscious of my identity, the love I gave him nine long years ago! I an too blessed, too happy !" A week later, and Estelle Jermyn's lover had lost every cent he possess ed in the fearful smash in the City that despoiled so many homes a few years ago. In an humble lodg-, ing. he and his proad, broken-heart e,l mother resided, in most seclud ed retiregient. He had written to Estelle; he had given hsar her liberty, and in keenish anguish of spirit w a s awiting her reply. An elegant carriage drove up to the door; a splendid lady alighted, and ascended the stairs, and enter ed the apartment. "Don't speak, Archie, I beg," and she waved him aside in her sweet graceful way. "I desired to assure you I shall never give you up. I want to tell. you of some property you possess you little dream of. I I have brought that property with me. See !" and she opened the cask t and handed Mrs. St. A.ylnwer the lost diamonds. "Do you recognize in Estelle .Jermyn the haggard Bes sie Brown of other days ? I traced your diamonds, Mr-s. St. Aylmer ; and in returning them, I only ask you to love me as Archie's wife." Very fair and beautiful she stood there. And when weeping tears of gratitude at the restored jewels, which would bring luxury again, Mrs. St. Aylmer perceived that fate, in tlie person of a burglar had sto len her diamonds for this needful time-that fate, in the person of Estelle Jermuyn; had restored them, even while stealing her son's heart and nare. It was in accordance with the will of her deceased uncle, Mr. Es mond .Iermyn, that she had adopted the name which replaced those of Bessie Brown, and in so doing she had inherig ed a fortune of one thou sand a year. INFLUENCE OF FEMALE 80c1ETY.-9 is better for you to pass an evening, once or twice a week, in a lady's drawing roons, even thQoggh the cop versation is slow, and you know the girl's song by heart, than in a club, avern, or pit of a theatre. All amusements of youth to which vir tuous wvomen are not admitted, rely on it are deleterious in their nature. Al m~en who avoid female society have dull preceptions, and are stul pid, or have gross tastes and revolt against what is pure. Your club swaggerers, who are sunc:.g the buts of billiard1-cues all mnit, call female society insipid. Poetry is uninspiring to a yokel; beauty has no 'charms for a& blind man; music- does not please a poor beast who does not know one Piine fr-om another ; but as . a true epicure is hardly ever tired of water, sauce, and brown bread and butter, I pro test I can sit for a whole niglft talk ig to a well regul1ated kindly WQ man about her girl Fanny or her boy Frank, and like the evening's entertainment. One of the great. benefits a man may derive from wo-' man's society is, that he is bound to be r-espectful to her. The habit is of great good tQ your moral men, depend upon' it. Our education makes us the most eminently selfish men in the world. We fight for ourselves, we push for ourselves, we yawn for ourselves, we light our pipes and say we won't go out, we prefer ourselves and gLr taae and the greatest benefit that comes to a man from a woman's society is, that he has to think of somebody to whom he is bound to be constant ly attentive and respectful. "You cannot taste in the dark," said a lecturer. "Nature has in tended us to see our food." "Then," inquired a forward pupil, "how about a blind man at dinner ?" "Na ture, sir," answered the professor, "hasovided him with eye-teeth." RIStellatitou. THE JOYS OF POVERTY. Diogenes was once seen rushing to the theatre at the moment when everybody else was leaving. On heing asked why he did so, he replied: "I have learned that the multitude is always wrong." The experience of the world has long since demonstrated that the old snarling philosopher was correct in his judgment. The multitude was, no doubt, wrong in his day, and it is wrong to-day, and prob ably. w1 always be wrong about every question of vital importance. The common opinion is that the man of ease is happy, and the man wLo toils in the cold of winter, and beneath the .eating rays of a summer's sun is nmiscrable. This is a grand mistake. The man who folds his arms in ease and fares sumptuously every day is the miserable wretch whose pillow is full of thorns; and the man whose -bread is dug out of the ground by his own brawny hands is the happy man. In the veins o' the former, the blood flows weak as if the fountain was about to fail ; in those of the latter the crimson current goes rippling on like some merry stream. Notwith standing all its hardships, there is something truly romantic in commencing life surrounded by poverty. He who is the heir to a vast fortune, kno.ws only the one side, ad the worst side, ton,.of hu man C .:Atence. There is something heroic in a single individual like Danie! Boone, settling in a dense forest, surrounded by wolves and savages, and insolated from every genial companion. Instinctively, we admire,laud and extol the brave man who take.s up his abode in the middle of some dense forest,and by persevering toil reduces the brakes of the wilderness to fields waiving with luxuriaut crops. The man who does such deeds, experiences a delight a I in o s t ecstatic in rehearsing to his phildr'en tho tils'1 of' his c.ariy man.hood. Historians dwell with rapture upon such a theme, and the eye o1 the orator sparkles with joy, and the bosom of tbe poet swells with delight when the deeds of such an individual are mention ed. Is not the case of the poor boy w~ho commences life with pov arty for a patria;onQy, but rises to eminence and distinction similar to to that of the man who settles in a dense forest which, by inces sant toil, he reduces to a cultiva ed field ? There is joy in the one case as well as in the othe,r; The victories over the wilds of the for est grQat piore glorious than the victories over the huge impedi ments which poverty presents. It filled the heart.of the celebrated Ben. Franklin with delight to think that be once, poor and un known, walked the streets of Phil adelphia with a-ginger-cake under his arm. The toils and straggles of the pys of ia po.verty, are those upou which he dwelt with ples4re when lie felt t.hat he was numbered amongst the first men of' the nation. There is a pleasure in doing the whole of anything. Being led or helped, or pulled or pushed, is not pleasant. The reflections which arise from such a state of things are mournful to the soul. The in dividual who is conscious that what he is is mainly due to others, must feel as if he wvas seated at a table covered with the choicest viands, but with nonppetite to enjoy them. There is a romantic joy connected with the thought of commencing life at the very bottom, and toiling until the highest cliff is mounted. This reached, we can look down upon the jungles and d e fi I e s though which and over, which we have passed. Thbe trials of our early str-uggles are converted into joys which are congenjil to a noble soul. Even such a man as Henry Ward Beecher, experiences more joy in reflecting upon the days when he wore the old cast away clothes of Judge --, than the Pince of Wales can experience when he mouats the throne of the Georges. Henry Ward Beecher can look down from the pr-oud em inence which he has won by man ly effort, and comtemplate his for mer poverty with delight. He has the cousciousness that merit has elevated him to this present position. When the Prince of Wales ascends to' the throne of England he will have the mortify ing consciousness that he was lift ed and set upon by other hands. The sceptre came to him as a p#t -imony. Poverty begets gratitude, and the feelings of gratitude are are pleasant. The poor boy who, now and then, receives some tri fling blessing, is moreae.fnl than the sons and daughters of the rich who revel in wealth and ease. The man who watches the increase of a few acres,experiences more real joy than he who is a stock-holdor it a National Bank, I the income of which is counted by thousaads. The poor boy has his troubles. i Cares and anxieties are insepara- Iv ble frum humanity. But the sons 1 of the rich are beset with troubles t on every side. Their joys are all r adulterated,and their triumphs are tew and insignificant. The hap- t piest mortal on earth is the toiling, f ngglin g, poverty ridden youth c who is by honest effort making a his way to the temple of fame ii and to a position cf usefulness.- - His sleep is sweet, and his tri- e umphs wili be great and glorious. i (Yorkville Enquirer. fh Hom.-Home enjoyments, home s affections, home courtesies can not o ,be too carefully or steadily culti- U vated. They form the sunshine of i the heart. They bless and sanctify s our private circle. They beco.ne a a source of calm delight 'o the man of business after a day of toil; they i teach the merchant, the trader, the' working-man, that there is some- b thing purer, more precious even, c than the grains of industry. They t twine themselves round the heart, c call forth its best and purest emo tions and resources, enable us to be t more virtuous, more upright more f Christian in all our iflations.of life. We see in the little beings around!a us, the eldments of gentleness, of c truth, and the beauty of fidelity I and religion. A day of toil is rob- ] bed of many of its cares by the thought that in the evening we r may return home, and mingle with t the family household. There, at least our experience teaches us, Ne t may fd confiding and loving bos oms, those who look up to and lean upon us, and those also to N whom we may look for counsel and encouragement. We say to our friends,one and all cultivate the home virtues, the household beauties qt - is,tence. F4neavor to niake the little circle of domestic life , cheer furl, an intelligent, a kindly and hap ] py one. Whatever may be wrong in the world of trade, however ar- - duous may be the struggle for for- z tune or fame, let nothing mar the purity of reciprocal love or throw .] into its harmonious existence ther apple of digegr4. The Winter eve ninigs afford muanyhours for reading, c for conversation, the communion of , heart and of spirit, and such hours should be devoted as much as pos- x sible, not only to mental and moral e improvement, but to the cultivatign~ Iof what rnay ergphatically be ternt- t ed the 4ome virtues f-Penn.En.c OccUPATION.-OccupatiOn I-What ~ a glorious thing it is for the human heart ! Those who work hard sel- 1, dom yield themselves up to fancied h or real sorrow. When grief sits down, folds its hands, and mourn-e fully feeds upon its own tegrs, Weay: ing the di shadows thtat at little e 'exertion n4ight sweep away inkto a Ifunera~l pall, the stvrng spirit js shorn of its might, andc gorygw be- 3 comes our master. When troubles flow upon you dark and heavy, toil b not with the waves-wrestle not with the torrent-rather seek occu pation to divert waters that threat- h en to overwelm you in a thousand channels, which the duties of life always~ p,resent. Before you dream of it, those waters will fertilize the ta present, and give birth to fresh flow ers, that they may brighten the f a tare-lowers that will become pure ?, and holy in the sunshine which pen. etrates the path of duty. Grief, t) after all is but a e,elgh reeling and most selfish is he who yields h himself to the indulgence of any h passion that brings no joy to his Ifellowmen. HoME SUNsHINE.-Many a child goes astray, not because there is want of prayer or virtue at home, tl but simply because home lacks sun shine. A child needs smiles as o much as flowers need sunbeams. h Children look little beyond the pres ent moment. If a thing pleases, ti they are afto eel it ; if it dis- o pleases( they are prone to avoid it. If home is the place where faces are S sour and words - harsh, and fault- w finding is ever in the ascendant, they will spend as many hours as - possible elsewhere. Let every fa- fs ther and mother thin try to be happy. Let them talk to their I children, especially the little ones, in such a way as to make themhap- it py. o "If," advertised a philosophical v< victim "theperson who took a fan- c cyt yovercoat was influenced by the weather, then all is serene ; but if he did so from commercial con- C sieain,Ia ed oetr i tideratin,am egtiatio for in- e to fmncilngtainPo t e turn." -- SP.1NISH FLIRTATION. 'HE FAN LANGUAGE OF QUEEN IS.BELLA. The publication of an amusing ittle book with the above title, The Fan Language of Qneen Isabel i," is heralded from Berlin. It is 1odeled after the original Spanish rork (per announcement, by Fene i.) who, in the introduction makes he following sage remarks among aany others: * The fan, the peculiar property of de Spanish woman, inseparable :om her person, and prescribed at ourt by the laws of etiquette, is, s it were, an instrument represent ig a language, by means of which,, rithout the sound of a word, you an make yourself comprehended i all the modulations of love and :iendship. "At the present day the fan is pread over the world, and the ladies n both sides of the ocean makes se of this graceful plaything. It ; as easy to make one's self under tood in the language of the fan as i that of flowers; and since the entences are, of necessity, short, it 3 easy -to learn them by heart." After this pleasing introduction, e proceeds to give the manual f this voiceless speech, consisting of he usual sentences in the vo abulary of love and friendship, rith appropriate directions as to heir expression by means of the an. As the summer is approaching, ,nd the fan campaign is about to pen, we transcribe for the use of he flirting young folks a few of renella's tactics: 1. You have won my love-The ight hand points with closed fan owards the heart. 2. When may I q yQu I-Touoh he right eye with the closed fan. 3. I would like to be ever near ron-Fan the person in question vith the open fan. 4. Do not be so imprudent Phreaten with the c1qs.p4 tan. 5. I do 4ot jqye yu-.Make a qoyei4ent qf disMiSal with the >pen fan. 6. Be quiet we are watched biod the -elosed fan over the mouth. 7. Dear I hope to win your love? -Unfold the fan wide with a quick ovement. 8. I wish nothing to do with you; am angry with you-old1 the fan eyergd in thle hand. 9. Do not be so cold-Move the losed fan backward and forward ith the right hand. 10. You have hurt me; grieved ae-Hold the closed fan with f old 4 hands. 11. Do not be so jealous-Rest he closed fan against the eyebrow ( the righlt eye. 12. You may kiss me-Press the af-opened fan against the mouth. 13. MaylIhope for a return of ve !-The unfolded fan held to the eart. 14. Be true to me-Rold thle losed fa high in the left had. 15. You have been badly slander d-Nove the open fan to and fro rith the left~ hand. 16. L4eave me you are tiresome awn behind the open fan. 17. I love-Conceal the eyes be id the wide-open fan. 18. Give me an answer-Strike nce with the closed fan held in the and. 19. Yes-Rest the qpeaanagainst de right cheek 20. No-Rest the open fan against de left cheek. 21. I expect you this evening how the ornamented side of the mn to the person in question. 22. Forgive me I pray you,-Fld 4e landa under the open fan. 23. You are the darling of my eart-Press the open fan againstj eart and mouth. 24. You are not in your right~ ind-Hold the closed fan against ie forehead.. 25. I wg ld Jike to fulfill -your ish-.Gracefully 'open and shut ie fan with the right hand. 26. I hate you-Lean the fan a the shoulder with the right a.nd. 27. Yatr 8attery is distasteful y e-Support the chin with the pen fan. 28. You have a bad reputation lightly touch the tip of the nose ith the closed fan. 29. Do not betray our secrete -Cover the left ear with the closed 30. Explain yourself clearly ook earnestly at the closed fan. 31. Why do you wish to leave Le-Fan violently with the half pened fan. 32. I shall die if you are faithless > me-Cover both eyes with the Losed. fan. 33. I give my consent-Slowly ose the open fan. 9"Fachersprache der Koningin Isabella." .:RarIn. THE POWER OF A WORD. A mother on the green hills of Ver mont was holding by the right haud a son, sixteen years old, mad with love of the sea. And as he stood by the garden-gate one morn ing, she said: "Edward, they tell me-for I never saw the ocean that the great temptation of a sea man's life is drink. Promise me, be fore you quit your mother's hand that you will never drink." "And,'' S:Lid he, (for he told me the story.) "I gave the promise, and I went the globe over, Calcutta and the Mediteranean, San Francisco, and Cape of Good Hope, hte North Pole and the Soutl. I saw them all in forty years, and I never saw a glass filled with sparkling liquor that my mother's form by the gate did not rise before me, and to-day I am innocent of the taste-of liquor." Was not that sweet evidence of the power of a single word? Yet that is not half. "For," said he, "yesterday there came into my counting-room a man of forty years," "'Do you know meT' "'Well,' said he, "I was once brought drunk into your premises on shipboard; you were a passenger; they kicked me aside; you took me to your berth and kept me there till I had slept off the intoxication; you then asked if I had a mother. I said I had never known a word from her lips. You fold me of yours at the garden gate; and to-day ILam master of one of the first packets in New York; and I came to ask you to come and see me." How far that little candle throws its beams! Th4t Mother's words in the geen hills of Vermont! Oh! God be thanked for the mighty power of a single word. MPoRTANT TO YouNG LADIER. All girls who would be happy wives, and beloved and respected mothers, be real, be earnest in ev erything; let your principle be true, tolerate no sham, and the sup)erstrueture you shall build thereon shall be animate with your spirit when you have laid do wn this life and taken up renew ed existence in another world, in marriage, who would not ra ther tgIeo to his heart a reason ing, thinking spirit, tolerating no self-influence but that of upright ness, having reliant faith, loving sympathy, and active ,usefulness, as the only weapons for the daily warfare of crosses, perplexities, and endurances, rather than a flip pant, idle, ignorant girl, who, sooner than help her mother to lighten her burden of care and anxiety, is just the make-weight to pull her to the earth, and keep her there, for the mother silently thinks "Who Will marry her?" A BEAUTIF'UI4 AZrLGoRY.- A tra~veler who spent some time in Turkey relates a beautiful parable which was told him by a dervish, and which scorned even more beau tiful than Sterno's celebrated fig ure of the accusing spirit and re cording angel. 'Every man,' said the dervish, 'has two angels, one on his right shoulder and on'e on his left. When he does any thing good, the angel on the right shoulder writes it down and seals it, because what has- been well done is done for ever. When he does evil, the an gel on the left writes it down, and he waits till midnight. If before that time the man bows his head and exclaims, 'G racious Allah ! I have sinned; forgive mue!' the an gel rubs out the record ; but if not, at midnight be seals it. and the beloved angel on the right shoul der weeps. When Cato was drawing near to tlie close of life, he declared that the greatest comfort of his old age, and that which gave him the highest satisfaction, was the pleas ing remembrance of the many ben efits and friendly offices he had lone to others ; to see them happy through his instrumentality made him so. A very old man once went to the [King of Sparta and lamented the legeneracy of the times. The Eing replied: "What you say may indoubtedly be true, for I remem ser that, when I was a boy,I Iheard ny father say that when he was a aoy he heard my grandfather say the same thing." "Oh, Mary, my heart is breakring!" said an Aberdeen lover to his High land Mary. "Is it, indeed? So much the better for you," was her r~eply. "Why, my idol?" "Be cause, Mr. MacSmith, when* is broken out and out, you can sell thle pieces for gun Eints." He who blackens others does not whiten himself. ADVERTISINC RATES@ Advertisements inserted at the raue of $i.00 per square-one inch-for firat insertiony and 7C. for each subseqnentinserd6C - Double column advert6ements tenpereenton above. Notices Ofze-a-s Atibitas isd Wres of respect, same rates per square as ordimaiy advertis,ements. SPeciAlunOtices in local column 21) cents. per Lae... Adveridsemeats not MarWe with the num ber- ofhsrdlovs wil J*- k i n ORl forbid SPeciAl,oni"W6t aWil" lag adver tisis,witz Th dak*oon stvre rates. lbone,wit qus and Dispatch. Terms Cash. "DE- PjEav)OIONS JOSIAR?TI" A sapientjlokingFaettevifle darkey, oscillating betvvwn twenty and twenty-five. summets -oiertook an old negro on the 'sreet the other dlay, and wedging him in a fence corner 'proceeded. toaqaiint him -with all --th6!-g4geous provi sions of the Civil Rights Bill. Young -Africa- -inmUtd Wo old Africa aftnd of -qduable -iniorma-_ tion thxWv. "Well, Uncle Billy,; '-S*er S" Swivel Bights, bill - li&, Vezed de Senate. ob do United Stj witout alaurmer." - Isdat so, Josiar?" 'ess s,Uncle Aily nd say Uncle ),r e oed pus sons is gwn os66,vtose per visions is i de Pot, ~e g ie to be &IIoed6 n .~On do railroads smoke in a W ~ls car And put our feet he"perosions ob de seats 'when dr please,' - CIS~ &so46980 f~d a Uncle Billy, Wef.~e l lowed to. stopik do -h"tI and set at the head- of4the,Iabi ,zmw~ib de biggest. slices-,obld d cikd n lay around.in .4e.P&04ARd spit on de carpets _anjd,m**.,,white trash hustle. demselveor.f4p4'r.*teqn ~ouldbeahappyyouth, leadaso.