Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, May 24, 1860, Image 1
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? lewis k. oeist, proprietor. J An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. J12 pebahhcm ih altjirt.
VOL. 6. ' ^ YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY, 24, 1860. . '
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*5 From the Saturday Evening PobJ.
v- ;^.n-KY SCHOOLBOY DAYS.
yV. V BY T. HEMPSTEAD.
They are faded?they are faded?
And rtgh* merry days were they;
Sweetly o'er me rose their morning,
Wenttheir eve as bright, as gay.
."tQ
I am weary?getting weary,
Very weary of this strife;
This perpetual watching?waiting,
This incessant tug for life.
I remember?I remember
Each departed face and look ;
Wreathed in light and smiles to greet me,
On the green, and by the brook.
How unheeded?all unheeded,
Did each happy moment fly;
'Mid the sweetly waving wild-wood?
'Neath the Summer's laughing sky.
It is lonely?very lonely,
Where the well-beloved hall
And the whispering woodlands echoed
To onr footsteps' merry fall.
They are faded?they are fhded,
Face and form and blossom fair;
And where noonday shadows slumbered,
Now, the hill-side loometh bare.
We are scattered?sadly scattered?
We, that met upon the green ;
, Blithsome as the morning sunlight,.
Floating siiKen Dougns oeiween,
One departed?one departed
For old England's classic shore?
Full of youth and hope departed,
But was never heard of more.
One is sleeping?one is sleeping,
(Ah, that manly grasp and smile,
On this heart are deeply graven,)
By the sultry, savage Nile.
Some in Heaven?high in Heaven
Rest from all toil at last;
Who, their every work well finished,
Through the golden portals passed.
One, an angel?guardian angel,
Cheerful, smilling, pure and bright;
Borne on viewless pinions, ever
Hovers round my bed at night.
They are faded?they are faded?
They return to me no more;
They are gone, like wandering shadows,
To the Past's far, twilight shore.
Though my path be wild and thorny,
I will wait and watch and fear
While I know that high in Heaven,
They have rest who loved me here.
Original J&keic|ts.
V ^Epr the YorkviUe Enquirer.
a scho6l-qiel~eemin"iscence.
- BfciMARY.
"Dear flowers! dearest "memories! What
an enchantment is yours, my precious violets.
How wondrous strange your memory
power; how beautiful, how hallowed !
My own violets, how I love you!"
Thus rapturously spoke my friend, Hellen,
as she buried her impassioned face in
a large bunch of fresh violets, which she
fondly grasped from a vase on the parlor
mantle. After a pause, she continued:
"Oh ! Mary, how very dear to me are
violets; for they always help me to climb
the 'great, difficult, blue heights,' by bringing
back the faces, forms and voices of
those now in the spirit-land?those who were
to me like angels in purity and goodness.
Of coarse, they are ouly endowed with the
nature, common to all flowers; but they;
minister to my better nature, being reproducers
of a cherished past; and this is why
they are the flowers of all the earth to me.
Precious violets! Look at them, Mary!?
so tearfully spiritual like her eyes, which
???- oa nanonlnno nf too rc f Vl QT? I
CTCl ?wv, vv?o J
were to shed in this world,?yet so grateful
even for tears; sounconciously pure, like the
smile that spread over her far better than
beautiful face. Mary, would you like to
hear this memory ? 'Tis so clear through
these fresh violets, and the spring airs!"
"Oh ! yes, Hellen; and a thousand thanks
for it. Goon."
"Well, Mary?but, first, open wide those
blinds, and let the spring wind sweep in;
its sound chords well with the odor of this
violet memory !'
"Do go on, Hellen," said I.
"Don't be impatient, Mary ; the sacredness
of my story ill accords with haste
Give me, your hand, Mary. Now listen.
I was a little girl of thirteen years, when j
I was carried to a large boarding school, in i
the upper part of our State. As long as
my father remained with me. the novelty of |
my situation was charming. Imagine the j
very large, long brick building, with its
trippled piazzas on each side ?the upper- j
most one being railed all round, and inter-1
posing no covering between the head and
the blessed skies?its situation on an elevation
above the surrounding scenery?its j
sloping green lawn on one side, its level j
greener one on the other?but, above all, the !
ceaseless play of the spring, so wide and
deep and gushing with its wealth of waters,
at the foot of the lawn. The pearly stream
which issued from its marble basin, nourished
two large tufts of wild violets; and
beds of fragrant mint floated their waterloving
roots over its crystal surface. I
was so happy when gathering the violets,
the cool drops of water would kiss and cling
? aw tobrtn k/\1 tn <
tO my IlDgers 111 me aui , wi nutu uuiuiug iu (
my father's hand, I would look at the silver
bubble-balls always quivering up that
spring like a hundred, sometimes a thou-j
sand, water eyes. But still more fascinating
to my childish heart was the large number
of joyous school-girls ; were those hun- j
dred and forty faces; indeed, the evening!
tableaux were intoxicating. This was when
all students threw aside books, walking and;
other amusements, and made haste to join j
in an universal promenade in the first story j
piazza, which fronted the sloping lawn.
They came and came, till that long piazza;
was filled with the most delightful hurlyburly
of tripping feet and flying curls; while,
ringing laughter, happy soogs, and merry
words filled the evening air, and all ears
that stopped to listen, with a die of music,
which grew louder as the moments flew by. I
Thus like sisters, with arm in arm, or hand j
in hand, by twos, by threes, and by fours,
they pass too and fro, till the gong sounds
a tremendous summons to tea, when all
together they pour in flock-wise, without
turning to the right or left."
"Have you forgotten the memory, Hel?*?
en:
"Of course not, Mary; I am getting to it.
My father gone and a few days passed, I
awoke all at once to a full, startling sense
of desolation. At home I had been a petted <
child, governed only by my mother's voice
and caresses. Being, also, wholly unused
to self-dependence, my hands were as powerless
as my heart desolate. It was not
straoee, under the circumstances, that a great {
mother-want soon filled my heart; but it!
was strange that it did not pass away, as!
childish sorrow is apt; was strange how it
grew into utter wretchedness?how it scalded
iny face with tears almost hourly by day,
and how the unconscious hours of night
caught away my spirit in a brief storm of
shivering, in drawn breaths, which breathed
out again, left it calm till the "rising bell"
smote all slumbers, and the real hours
smote my calm. With the day all scenes
and sounds became for roe, emptiness and
a void, for there was no mother in them.
Thus it continued for more than three
weeks. I was dubbed the crying child;
and had quite worn out the patience of my
classmates, and all others who would have
consoled me. I also grew uneasy in their
presence, and avoided all intercourse with
I them. The best respite I had was a long
walk in the direction of home; bat. my
steps had soon to be retraced, and my back
tarned upon home aod mother. By this
necessity my heart seemed utterly cut off
from the only object to which it could cling,
to return upon itself in aching wretchedness.
It was late one Saturday evening, when,
after returning from that lonely walk,
I sat down on the topmost step of the long
flight which led into the first-story piazza.
I had bathed my eyes and now sat there
silent and wearied?would have fallen asleep
in a moment, if my mother's lap had
been near to receive my head; but the
briok pillow which it fell against, stopped
farther nodding, and served only its turn to
pierce that deep-set consciousness of 'do
mother.' The evening promenade was begun,
and something in the scene lulled me
into forgetfulness. The confusion of sweet
and merry faces was greater than usual that
evening; the throng denser; the passing
and repassing, quicker; the tide of spirits,
gladder and higher. I watched the scene
intensely. I saw every face, till on a sudden
came a new one ; I thought I had seen
all; but here were unknown dark eyes, very
full of a serene beauty, which surprised me
most, however, by alighting steadily upon
my own face. They lingered, too, as if
unwilling to withdraw before they blessed ;
and the soft brown locks that framed the
wide open brow, and that unhasting step,
so unmindful of the rapid ones around her
?'twas all so like my mother. Thereby
<no mother,' <no mother,' again filled every
crevice of*my heart with its relentless moan.
Burying my face in my hands, I wept aloud.
A moment afterwards a crowd of girls
were around me with eager soothing inquiries.
But their sympathy was without
the pacific element; for the quick constraint
of pride held me up to myself in the light
of an intruder upon their happiness, and
made me feel like an unwilling beggar with
pities all around me. It was during this
moment of concentrated darkness when she
came?I knew not who?and down, softly
as dew upon the grass, came the first touches
of an embrace that lingered so just while
she spake three little words?"Come with
me." They entered my ear with a zephyr's
softness. Then the same embrace
was but strengthened to lift me upon my
feet, and guide me from the thronged pi
azza.
When in her little chamber, with the
same'kind right to act for me, she drew me
into a closer embrace; removed my hands
from my face; and with motherly care
wiped off all the tears, and stroked back my
hair with tbe gentlest finger touches.?
Then she spoke these very words, Mary;
they writ themselves indellibly, as they fell
from her lips into my soul:
"I know from experience how desolate
you feel. I heard some girls speak of you,
to day, at the dinner table; and I resolved
to find you, and make you happier. You
shall not feel such sorrow again, if I can
help it."
M'ho was she, whose embrace, gentle
touches and motherly words filled me with
such an indefinable comfort?almost joy?
My eyes could remain downcast no longer;
but leapt up to look full in the face, the being
whose angel-like presence so completely
filled my soul. There she was, clear and
distinct as the evening star, before my wondering
eyes. Mary, I wholly forgot, in
that long untroubled look, my mother want.
For her large dark eyes, her wide calm
brow, her tearfully spiritual smile, her face
in which tears and smiles dwelt together in
perfect harmony, and even for the soft
brown locks that lay so smoothly around
that serene brow, I felt that my eyes, which
had only been looking thirteen years, rested
already upon the perfection of goodness?which
is beauty?that but grew
clearer in grace and statue as her words,
winning and pure as the clinging South
wind, fell into my heart as rain into flower
cups; fell and shook it with trembling,
gladdening emotions.
QKo mn mtt no m o oKonf mr V?r?mn*
?*""" "V > LXJJ
my mother and my little brothers; all of
which I answered gladly, though their subject
matter had hitherto been the cause of
all my grief. I broke the first waiting si
lence by asking why I had never seen her
before that evening; and expressing a regret
that I did not know her name.
"I only came yesterday evening," she
said; "but I have been here before. Your
mother did well in sending you here, as
leaving your home at such an early age was
a thing of necessity. Our advantages at
i this Bchool are excellent in every respect. .
What a beatiful place! Just look out here
upon the lawn. How majestic is that fine
Id 'bell tree'; how pretty the match houses
and rows of white cabins ! Oh ! I am very
sure all will be well with you hereafter; for
I will take care of you, and you shall soon
be as happy as the rest. My name is Nannie;
you must call me cousin Nannie.?
Who do you room with ?" i
Mary, these words again opened the
flood-gates of my heart. I said that I loved
her better than any body else in the world,
except mother; and might I not room with
her, and sit by her at table and chapel exercises?walk
with her and be with her all
the time ? She let the straight clear heart
current have its course; even opened wide
its channel by patient strokes on my hair,
and kisses by whiles on my forehead. At
length she replied : 'You shall room with
mo, but we must first go and make up the
loss to your room-mate ; and talk to Mrs
C about it.' We made the arrangements,
and I was soon ensconced happily in
her little chamber; when she brushed back
my hair, bathed my eyes, and embraced me
as her 'little Bister Hellen/ She then
stept to a side-table and took up a small
china cup, which was filled with violets tied
in a bunch like these. She touched them
all about to her face, as if in them lay some
(healing power; her lips stayed a little while,
pressing their purple beauty; then tenderly,
caressingly, she took them out of the
cup.
"Here are some violets for you, Hellen,"
she said, while her soul looked through her
eyes, still fixed upon the flowers. "Smell
them; arethey not very sweet ? They are
from a bed just under my chamber window
at home. My sister and I cultivate them
together. She gathered this bunch the morning
I left her, and I brought them all the
way in this cup. They are still very odorous.
We always keep a bunch ready on the mantle
at home, for any friend who may drop in
to see us. I cherish this old custom ; it is
simple but suggestive. Violets are only
winter flowers, and need no hot-house coaxing
to nurse them into beauty. As such,
they are appropriate tokens of gratidude to
our friends, who brave the cold wintry winds
to step into our homes with an added enjoyment.
Hold up your chin, and let me put
this bunch on your apron."
I was unwilling to receive flowers which i
must have been so precious to the donor,
and began to say so?but she stopt me.
"Yes," she continued, "they are yours;
they will not die in vain here. Their odor
is most delicately pure; surprising us ever
and anon with sweet feeliogs for which we
can give no reasons."
She pinned them up near my throat?
near enough for me to lay my cheek upon
their cool-kissing petals ; near enough for
their odor to surprise rae ever and anon
with 'sweet feelings/ which blended with, J
and doubly beautified my new-born love for
'cousin Nannie.' Mary, from that evening
till now, the sweet feelings inbreathed from
violets into my better nature, are the same.
They still win me back to that evening, to
that hour for angels, and to mine who then
and there began her ministerings unto ine,
nor ceased them for three rapid, beautiful
years. Mary, from that hour her influence
over me became a perfect law, unerring as
the law of nature. She cherished and loved
me as well as any glad, happy mother in all
the world could love her first-born. She
loved me wisely, as earnest affection does
always; blaming me when in error, and
pointing ever to the right. A look from
her would change an unkind thought into
a tear of penitence; a word from her, only
whispered and free from passion as music,
subdued me till I had no desire, save to act
noDly and purely, and therefore, merit her
1 _ T
love. 1 regaraea ner a3 a oeing superior;
and she never for a moment was forgetful
of me, though much older and wiser than
me; and in moral and mental culture the
equal and associate of the most gifted in
the school. Her presence made for me, the
music of the moments. She was my oracle.
She made study a thing of joy. She called
up the spiritual and the beautiful from
all things wherein they dwelt. She linked !
prayer and thanksgiving with life and love.
The Bible poetry was a marvel of sublimity
and perfectness in all truth, when she read
and explained its teachings. Mary, the
religious serenity which characterized all
she did, together with her face, which I
cannot describe as otherwise than haloed,
does often now penetrate long years and the
grave, and control my actions. Even so |
wondrous is the power of pure personal influence.
"Such, Mary, was the guardian spirit of
my school days. To violets still belong the
'sweetest feelings' that are born of flowers;
and, though now they will stretch back in-i
to the long past, and reach yearningly toward
the infinite heavens, yet their mission
is for her, and a joy forever. They wind j
intricately and mysteriously about the soul;
and it quickens and feels anew its immortality.
My own, precious violets !"
? l T-Trtl wKnn on/t ttIia-a ^ 1j '1'? . I
Aiv.i.vuj r?uv.u uuu uwtic U1U U1U j I
and what of your last meeting?"
"Short questions, these, Mary, but they
fill my soul with a mingled yearning regret
and tranquil joy. She had remained at
school a resident graduate eight months,
when the sad intelligence of her father's;
death came, with a messenger to take herj
home. Alone in our chamber, she enfold-j
ed me in her arms as she had done three j
years before.
<Hellen,' she said, weeping, <1 will in aj
few hours be also bereft of this solace. To;
love and guide you as best I knew how, has |
been a blessing to me. My sweet sister, the I
parting time has come; but there will be a
meeting again. Hellen, learn to bear afflictions.'
Calmly at length, as an angel might, she
began her preparations for going home.?
Together we packed her trunks. After
dark, and when that venerable old house
was silent, and all its inmates sleeping, she
took my hand, and we ascended to the topmost
piazza, where the deep heavens were
around and above us. It had always been
a favorite resort with her about, startime.
Many a time there she had pointed
out to me the constellations, as they suddenly
sparkled into view from their secret
recesses in the deep-blue heavens. Mary,
there in that dear old piazza, the last time,
she talked long of death, heaven and change;
talked to me of life and its duties?of glorious
immortality and heavenly recognition.She
prayed God's blessing upon me; pointed
to the star-depths as the home of her
father and all the good, and told how to
meat. t.ham we mnfit live. Star after star
went down, to shine upon other worlds;
and manj more came to beam tearfully upon
the earth, ere we left our seats on that
old piazza. At length she rose and threw
her arms around me :
'Hellen,' she said, 'you often say violets
are the memory-harbingers of our first nesting.
The stars may be then of oar last
parting. Love both, Hellen, since they
are God's handiwork; and love me as you
have.' a .
The morning dawn found me standing
on the steps, watching the carriage as it
bore her away from me. As it gained a
hill-top she leaned out at the window and
looked back. Involuntarily my hands
stretched towards her; but a moment thus,
and she was gone forever..
Six months passed; and long letters were
exchanged weekly?mine filled with girlish
enthusiasm and hope, hers with a clerer
soul light which enveloped the earth with
a serene, holy sorrowful beauty. By and
by no letter came. I wrote again. A week
afterwards I watched eagerly, as letter after
letter was thrown to a circling group.
My name was at last caned out, wnen a
thin thing with black .edges fell into my
receiving bands. What did it mean ? Her
post office, but not her hand-writing.
Breaking the seal was but a moment's work.
Nannie was dead?the grave had received
her three weelcs past.
Years have followod one another since
then, Mary, and borne away many loved
ones; but since her death made the "night
holy," I am no longer afraid of afflictions.
Life is still very sacred and beautiful, notwithstanding
its sorrows."
Hellen's voice had grown tremulous and
low. It seemed to mellow down to the cadence
of the spring breeze, and to harmonize
with the twilight which came^in mutely
without a foot-fall. A long silence followed,
during which she pressed the violets to
her face, and leaned forward to watch the
stars come out.
Hellen has from time to time told me
many more memories of those "rapid, beautiful"
years, which I will tell again for your
readers, dear Enquirer, if they are pleased
with this one.
Par the YorkvlUe Enquirer.
THE MYEITEBIOUS PACKAGE.
"Who would believe what strange bugbears
Mankind crea tes itself, of fears."
[H0I>IBBA8.
"A package for you, sir." "Forme?
Ah. thank you." I took it carefully home;
it was for me, prima facie, for it bore my
name. Now, there are some other persons
who have my name exactly, to a T, or rather
to an M, as witness a telegram I once received
: "S? and the baby are as well as
could be expected j" which was very certainly
not meant for this individual. However,
this package bore my name, Post
Office, Parish and all; and as there is no
one in my immediate vicinity having the
same distinguished appelation, I grabbed it.
Thinks I to myself, "this is strange; who
has any business to be sending me bundles?
Who cares enough for me to be sending me
packages?" When I thought, "may be it's
an infernal machine! Perhaps some very
susceptible female, jealous of my devotion
to Ameliar Jane, has determined to blow me
up. Ooph! .Maybe, some young poet-rascal,
envious of my rapidly increasing fame
(being far superior to Milton, Pope, Byron,
Tennyson, or any of those other fellows in
Ameliar's opioion) ha6 determined to extinguish
the light of my genius. Ow ! Or
it may have come from Douglas, who fearing
lest the Convention immediately
Would swarm on me
As the Kinp Bee
For their Nominee, [Original.
has determined to be before them in caus- i
ing my elevation. Haw!" Well, I appoint- I
ed myself a committee of one (to which the
Chairman was added) on Ways and Means <
of opening the mysterious bundle. Com- i
mittee after .a long and warm conference 1
reported, "throw it out of the window and !
let it bust open." Minority Report, "don't ]
let's." Report recommitted. Committee j
took a swig of sassafras' tea, smoked a pipe !
and reported: "Get a razor, tie it to a i
long stick, get under the bed, and then I
cut the string!" Report unanimously adopted.
Behold me then : my only razor, some- <
times used for shaving, but oftener for cut- (
ting lead pencils, tied to the end of a long ]
stick with red tape, to keep the law on my <
side; myself under the bed cautiously peer- 1
ing out; the awful bundle on a chair. Now I
Ruby, do or die ! Ruby prefers doipg, so he i
applies the blade to the string. Just then <
a saucer is smashed down stairs. Ruby
jumps, bangs his head, sees stars, and im- <
agining himself blown up?waits to 'light. I
Thinking he must have gone awfully high, <
as he is a terrible long time falling, he !
opens his eyes, shakes his head, finds it all I
right, looks cut, every thing quiet, finds i
himself mistaken, tries again. This time 1
he cuts the string; no noise, no smoke, no |
fire, no wild varmint; takes courage, punch- ]
es open the paper, and, to his great relief i
and delight, keholds a beautiful book. 1
JNot at all frightened now, for I am not i
easily scared by books, except they be meta- i
physical or polemical or legal in their na- <
ture, (and I like these sometimes for the i
sake of variety.) I approached and found a
beautiful edition of Hudibras, with gilt i
edges and elegantly bound in moroccoantique,
at that. I opened it and found tbe i
paper heavy, white j rich, if I may so term
it. I enjoyed the very touch of the leaves
as I turned them over. Then there were
some excellent engravings, (always the
delight of mine eyes) of King Charles, ,
the Royal martyr, and of old Noll, who
martyred him. Of old Bishop Bonner, and
of Owen, with his big month and skull cap
and open book.
On a blank leaf is written, "Presented
to Ruby; by a Lover." Picture it, think
of it then if you can; Roby and his Lover!
Wonder if it's a female ! Doubtful, very;
never had one before as I know of. I've
loved plenty of them, but females, as a sex,
are lacking in appreciation, and none of
them have ever yet had the taste to see any
thing very admirable in me. It's their loss,
however, and, maybe, my gain. Just suppose,
for the sake of argument, that it was
. 1 TTTl 1_ _ 9 i 1* _ T
a iemaie. vvno can u ne i jn.menar uane
would have Sent me a pair of woolen socks.
Rosaland would have sent me three rosebuds
and some myrtle leaves. Marie, ma
belle, would have sent me a tiny boquet of
hehrt's-ease and violets. Lily would have
sent me her fair name-sake. Leoline wonld
have sent a copy of 'La Dame and Camelias/
Martha would have sent a cake.?
Natalie would have sent, as she always
does, an ivy leaf. Bessy would have been
sure to send a bachelor's button. Mrs. Maroon
would have sent Jeremy Taylor's
Works. My annt, my maiden aunt, would
have sent Lord Chesterfield's letters. No
lady, I know, would have sent me Hudihras,
but one, and I know she didn't do it.
Who could it have been ? Perhaps 'la
belle Inconnue. Is she pretty, or is she
beautiful ? Has she lips "redder than the
roses red," and a brow "paler than the lilies
pale"? Do the carnation and olive '
bleDd on her cheek, or doth a wreath of
lilies and roses rest there mingled? Who
can it be ? Echo, answers, "Who!"
"So here in wild unrest ~
I live and rave."
But suppose we examine closely the handwriting.
Aha! I've found you out at last.
Whose superscription is this ? Not Caesar's,
but a better man's. His name begins with
an S, and ends, as all finished names do,
with an n. Many hearty thanks-to thee,
old boy.* Thanks for this beautiful souvenir
of friendship, love and kindness.?
This momentum, as the belle of the west
calls it, of affection. With kindness hast
thou often blessed me, until were it some
other one, the load of obligations would lie
heavy on me; but thou well knowest how
to give gifts and perform good actions, so
as to make the recipient of thy favors seem
to oblige the donor. Blessings rest on thee
and thine, forever !
To the Reader: "Go thou and do likewise."
A good time for so doing will be
the 4th of June?Ruby's birth day. Let's
all celebrate it. Ruby, in anticipation,
bows to you all, wishes himself "many happy
returns."
"Fills a glass full and drinks to himself,
As the uppermost dog in the fight."
Anticipatingly, yours,
RUBY.
*01d boy, here, means anything else than
Diabolui.
.Jjfiplar leading.
From the Home Journal.
THE AMERICAN IN JERUSALEM.
Near St. Stephen's Gate is pointed out a
mosque, where it is said the Virgin Mary
was born, and just without the Gate is the
spot where St. Stephen was stoned by the
Jews, not far distant from the cistern into
which his body was afterward thrown.?
After examining these localities with much
interest, I passed outside of the walls to
the Damascus Gate, which presents the
most perfect and beautiful specimens of
Syrian architecture anywhere to be found.
Leaving the Gate, I walked through the
Via Dolorosa, and from thence to the wailing-place
of the Jews, on Mount Moriah. j
This is esteemed by the Hebrews the most
sacred place within the limits of Jerusalem,
on account of its vicinity to the "Holy of
Holies." Here, large numbers of them repair
daily to wail and to pray; and on Fridays
the number is much greater than on
other days. They face the wall, which |
they believe to be a part of the original .
wall of the temple. On the day I visited ,
the place, there were maDy assembled? ,
both males and females : some were read- ,
inc their Dravers. in an undertone, while .
? O I * ' t j
others were devotedly praying or readiog
their prayers aloud, exclaiming, with bro ,
ken sobs, "How long yet, oh Lord ! oh, ,
Lord, how long?" To me it was an im- ,
pressive service, and I felt that their pray- ,
ars re offered in the full belief that the ,
Lord will appear to them, at no distant (
jay, and restore this, their former home,
to them and their descendants.
Not far from this holy place, stands the
selebrated Golden Gate of the temple, now ,
closed, it having been blocked up by the (
Mussulmans, on account of the belief they (
antertain that at some future day, should j
they neglect this precaution, it will be en- .
tered by a king, who will not only take possession
of the city, but will extend his reign
over the whole earth.
I next visited what is called the Jews' <
quarter of the city, and was conducted <
through their various public edifices, inclu- 1
ding their synagogues. I was courteously <
shown by them everything which they I
thought deserving ot particular notice. I i
received from them all marks of respect and ,
kindness. They are a fine-looking class of i
people, and even if the friend who accom- i
panied me on this occasion, had not inform- s
ed me where I was, I should have had no t
difficulty in knowing that I was in the Jew- I
ish section of the city; for they are, indeed, 1
a peculiar people, and the same traits, both t
of feature and mind, are apparent in them <
all, whether they dwell in Europe, Asia, <
Africa, or America. If the Jews do not j
occupy a position such as they formerly did i
in Palestine, they are, at least, both here ]
and throughout the Turkish dominions, in <
a measure restored to the rights of man. i
The inhabitants of Jerusalem, as I learn, ?
have, without consultation amoDg them- <
selves, selected different parts of the city 1
fox their respective residences. The Chris- ]
tians reside chiefly west of the street leading
from the Damascus to Zion's Gate.?
The Jews occupy the north-east side of
Mount Zion, and the Turks every other
part of the city.
Being in the neighborhood of Zion's
Gate, I was conducted to the spot occupied
by those who are afflicted with that loathsome
disease, the leprosy?a disease of
which I had read and beard much, though
I knew little of its real character, until my
visit to this spot. The lepersusually range
themselves in rows, and extend their hands
toward the passers-by, for alms. Their
condition is so frightful that no one is disposed
to remain long among them.
, . A. W.
A WIFE IS THE MAIN THING.
un J i n a poor uniucRy wigut
As ever there was born, sir,
There's nothing in my house that's right,
'Tis lonely and forlorn' sir.
I've cash enough and pay it well
To keep my house in order,
But ne'er can get a decent meal,
Though plentiful in my larder;
'Tis overdone or underdone,
Perhaps not done at all, sir;
No man had ever such a home
In all this weary lporld, sir.
My coat is at the elbows out,
I near can get it mended ;
My shirts are scorch'd in ironing.
My rest to ribbonds tended.
My stockings down unto the ground,
I ne'er can keep a garter;
And if they e'er get washed at all
lis snre in dirty water.
There's nothing done that should be done,,
S' And if its done at all, sir,
It better never have been done,
Than done so very ill, sir.
Go. get a wife?the old man said ;
Nor sit ye hear complaining ;
Of wedlock never be afraid,
A prudent wife's the main thing 5
She'll keep your house, she'll mend your clothes,
And chat and sing the while, sir;
And when, at eve. you hasten home,
She'll meet you with a smile, sir;
And all that's done will be well done,
And done without complaining ;
If e'er you'd have a pleasant home,
A wife?a wife's the main thing.
Jack quickly took the sage advice,
And woo'd a farmer's daughter.
And never did he rue the day
When home, a bride, he brought her.
His clothes are always clean and neat,
His house is like a palace ;
His cooking, that a king might eat,
And do it with a relish.
And now he is a happy man,
He never goes complaining;
But with a joyous smile declares
A wife?a wife's the main thing.
The Prairies of the West.?We all
write and speak of the prairies of the West,
bat no man can have an idea of them antil
he has seen them in all their variety in Illinois.
The red prairie is at this season of
the year an unbroken sea of green, and this
great landscape grows majestic from its
vast extent. Far as the eye can reach in
every direction, boundless as the view at
sea, when the billows are hushed, not a tree
or dwelling in sight, these prairies stretch
away in their grandeur; and when the
change comes, whenagroupof trees is seen,
or a solitary dwelling fills the void, the effect
is in no sense weakened. To us, it was
the most wonderous prospect upon which
we had ever gazed, and as we glided on for
hours with this unchanged and magnificent
view before us, we wondered that the fashionable
tide of travel did not set in this direction.
As we passed along near one of
the towns, we saw a large picnic party e
merging from the open prairie with immense
boquefs of prairie flowers, which bloom in
great variety and beauty at this season. We
saw no rose; but almost every variety of
small flowers seen at the East may be found
here, in a profusion which is wonderful.
' The formation of these praiiies is accounted
for on various hypothesis, but the
most natural and probable is the idea that
they resulted from the deposits of water by
which the land was, ages ago, covered.?
The clay and gravel which lie beneath, have
no peculiar qualities ; but they are covered
by it loam from twelve to thirty six inohes
in depth, which is of inexaustible fertility.
It has been produced by the constant
springing up and rotting down of prairie
grass, which has been goiDg oo for ages ?
One of the most notable characteristics of
the prairies, is their destitution of vegetation,
except in the multitude of rank grasses
and flowers to which we have referred; but
this is caused by the continual fires which
sweep over the plains. Every fall these
vast prairies are burned over, but when
this is prevented by the settlement of
the country, forests will spring up in great
rapidity. There are at present no indications
that the soil can be worn out. It
requires po manure, and will yield its
urops so readily that the farming population
pay too little attention to its proper cultivation.
All over Illinois there are gross
:omplaints of the careless manner in which
agricultural operations are carried on ; and, I
so far as our observation extended, the;
:harge was substantiated. There are no
iarns anywhere, and the grain lies scattered 1
lbout with unparalleled waste.?Newark
Mercury.
Damascus.?Damascus is the oldest
jity in the world. Tyre and Sidon have i
irumbled on the shore ; Baalbec is a ruin ; j1
Palmyra is buried in the sands of the des H
irt; Ninevah and Babylon has disappeared j i
rom the Tigris and Euphrates; Damascus!<
emains what it was before the days of i
Abraham?a centre of trade and travel, an i
sland of verdure in a desert, "a predesti- i
lated capital," with martial and sacred as- 1
iociations extending through more than t
:hirty centuries. It was "near Damascus" i
;hat Saul of Tarsus saw the "light from 1
leaven above the brightness of the sun," t
:he street in which it was said "he pray;th,"
still runs through the city. The I
jaravan comes and goes as it did a thous- 1
ind years ago; there are still the rheik, the f
iss and the water-wheel; the merchants of ]
Euphrates and of the Mediterranean still 1
' occupy" these "with the multitude of j ]
their waters." The city which Mahomet j(
surveyed from a neighboring height, and: i
was afraid to enteir-"because it is given to ;
man to have but one paradise, and, for his <
part, he was resolved not to have it in this I
world," is, to this day, .what Julian called c
"the eye of the East," as it was in the c
time of Isaiah, "the head of Syria." From 1
Damascus came the damson, or bine plum, t
and the delicions apricot of Portugal, call- 1
ed Damasco; damask, our beautiful fabric t
of cotton and silk, with vines and flowere c
raised upon a smooth, bright ground; the <
damask rose introduced into England in the x
time of Henry VII; the Damascus blade, <
so famous the world over for its keen edjge t
and wonderful elasticity, the secret of whose
manufacture was lost when Tamerlane oar- .
ried off the artists into Persia; and that 1
beautiful art of inlaying wood and steel 8
with silver and gold, a kind of Mosaio, en- *
graving and sculpture united, palled Darn
Afllr<w>nin<r_ wif.h whtoh Imtm nftirl hn.
reaus and swords and gnoa are ornamen- I
ted. It is still a city of flowers and bright *
waters; the streams from Lebanon, the I
"rivers of Damascus," the "rivers of gold," *
still murmur and sparkle in the wilderness v
of "Syrian gaxdone." ? . i
How it was Done in Arkansas.? 1
The recent brawls in the House at Wash- 1
ingt.on remind us of a story we once heard '
in Arkansas, several years since, which has (
never been in print. It is no disrespect <
to the present enlightened and general State '
of Arkansas to say that in its incipient .or '
territorial days it was rather ^'rough." It J
was a very common thing for a man -to 1
leave the bosom of his family, in souAd'4
health in the morning and return dead at *
night. Cuttings, slashings and shootings 1
were of daily occurrence. It was danger- '
ous to be safe. The Legislature was chief- '
ly composed of bullies and blacklegs, and '
the scenes enacted by them were often very '
eccentric. A fight arose about something J
in "the House" one day. The Hon. Mr. ^
Banger, of Napoleon, called the Hon. Mr. '
Slanger, of Helena, a liar. The Hon. "Mr.
Slanger retorted with a bullet, which took j
off the Hon. Mr. Banger's left ear. Both j
then sprang into the centre of the hall with {
drawn bowie knives. The speaker said, ,
"By G?d, we must have fair play in this
business!" and rushed out into the floor
with a cocked pistol in one hand and a tremendous
"toothpick" in the other, and in
tones of thunder commanded the representatives
to form a ring. A ring was formed,
and, in the classics of the. times, the combatants
"went in." They out each other
frightfully, and for quite a spell it was
difficult to decide who was the better man.
But finally Banger, by an adroit thrust, cut
off Slanger's head, and instant death was
the result. Mr. Slanger's remains being
removed and order restored, Mr. Banger
arose and said : "It is my painful duty to
announce to this House the death of the
Hon. Wm. Slanger, of Helena. He was
good at draw-poker and faro, and handled
the jtootbpick beautiful - He wasn't of no ,
account at legislating He was middlin' on ,
bosses. He put on too many scollops. He ;
had no family 'ceptinghis brother Bill, the ;
L .1 1 iL. Tl.J _! T |j
Desi poser piayer on me xvec river, i move
resolutions of respect be passed and for'arded
to his brother Bill." They were passed.?
Cleveland Plaindealer. i
Origin op the Two-Headed Eagle ? ,
The origin of the device of the eagle on na- ,
tional and royal banners may be traced to <
very early times. It was the ensign of the i
ancient kings of Persia and Babylon. The i
Romans adopted many other figures on their j
camp standards; bat Marias, B 0., 102, <
made the eagle alone the ensign of the le i
pious, and confined the other figures to the 1
cohorts. From the Romans, -the French, (
under the Empire, adopted the eagle. The 1
Emperors of the Western Roman Empire <
used a black eagle, those of the East a gold- |
en one. The sign of the golden eagle, met ^
with in taverns, is in allusion to the emper- t
ors of the East. Since the time of the Ro- i
mans, almost every State that has assumed
the designation of an Empire has taken the i
eagle for its ensign; Austria, Prussia, Rus- i
sia, Poland and France, all took the eagle. (
The two-headed eagle signifies a double em- 1
pire. The Emperors of Austria, who claim f
to be considered the successors of the Cae- (
ears of Rome, use the double-headed eagle,
which is the eagle of the Eastern Emperors
with that of the Western, typifying the
'Holy Roman Empire,' of which the Emperors
of Germany (now merged in the
House of Austria,) consider themselves as
its representatives. Charlemagne was the
fir9t to U9e it; for when he became the master
of the German Empire, be added the
second head to the eagle, A. D. 802, to denote
that the Empires of Rome and Germany
were united in him. As it is among birds
the king, and being the emblem of a noble 3
nature, from its strength of wing, and eye, '
and courage, and also of concious strength c
and innate power, the eagle has been uni- v
versally preferred as the continental emblem
of sovereignty. Of the different ea- ^
gles of heraldry, the black eagle is consider- ^
ed the most noble, especially when blazon- t
2d on a golden shield. 0
v
Silk Hats.?The Nouvettiste of Rouen j,
narrates the following curious anecdote
"M. Botta, son of one of the professors at ?
the Academy of Caen, an intrepid traveler j,
ind confirmed archaeologist, one of the dis- 8]
;overers of the ruins of Nineveh, undertook j,
i journey to China, and lived for some time ^
it Canton. This was prior to 1830. He jj
ised to wear there a beaver hat'in the Ea
opean fashion, which suited him so well
;hat he was unwilling to change it. When p
t was worn oat, be applied to a Chinese ti
aatter; and, giving him all sorts of direc- g
:ions, told him to make another like it.? tl
rhe man went to work, and in a few days tl
Drought a hat of the required shape, not of si
beaver, but of some stuff very soft and gloe- g
;y. M. Botta, on his return to France, a
preserved this curious specimen of Chinese a'
workmanship, and, wishing to have it re- d
paired, intrusted it to a hatter, wbooxamin- &
3d it carefully, and was much struck with
its mode of fabrication, which was alto- '
aether new to bim. He examined tne ar- n
licle with the greatest attentiob, and a short m
lime after the present fashion of lilk hats n
tame in. The my?otor patented hie diesovery,
and made a large fortune, bo^hatA
lis tongue about his debt to the Chinejji
xadesman, who, seeking a substitute for (be
leaver which be could not procure, devised
he plan of replacing it by the light- tissue
if silk, which at present almost unive^eWy
lonstitutes the outward covering of tka
ijodern hat. We beg tc restore .to-the
chinaman, although somewhat late, the
he honor due to him."
J W
lnvitfG and Allston.?In 1804} htfgl
ng jeaohed the age of twenty
.larmed by an increasing weakness
iheat, visited Europe for the sake of
lis health. He sailed directly to the South
)f France, landed at Bordeaux jn May,
)assed two months in Genoa, made the tour
o Sicily, ^pd crossing from Palerafttto
ftes, proceeded to Rome. Here heJort^jK
he acquaintance of Washington Allstocf
?ho was then entering on a career of ar$ as
ixtraordinary as that of Irving in literature.
CVith Allston, he made long rajntileg in trig
noturesque neighborhood pi that old city,
risited the galleries of- its palaoea and yftfc
as, and studied their work* 6f art with a
lelight that rose to enthnriamiM^thdo^t
>f the dry pursuit of the law which jWraited
lis return to America, 'and for which "he
lad no inclination, and almost denpined
;o bo a painter. Allston encouraged
a this disposition, and together they plafflefl'the
scheme of a life devoted to thepurmit
of art. It was fortunate for*the wdrid
.hat, as Irving reflected on the mattfe^)
loubts arose in his mind whioh tempered^
iiis enthusiasm and led him to a different
iestiny. The two friends separated, "e^ch
to take his own way to reaovm^JjfttOtTfo
become one of the greatest of paiqtersfAOd
trving to take his place aiqeng the.greatest
)fauthors;?W. C. Bryant...* jfc
Connecticut 8tate PiisdS?.?Religious
services are statedly held on the Sabbath,
consisting of preaching, Sabbath
school, &c. Many hopeful conversions are
said to have taker} place daring the past
year. Most of the prisoners manifest gnat
interest in reading, especially is the Sole
read maoh; often is the sapper foferjtd
that the last remnants of 4aj%bt .may be
occopied in reading Diviixgtruths. Says
the chaplain: "I hare yet to leajj?pf a
single person who, having left this-"institution
with a satisfactory evidence of his
piety, hasfallen from hi^pm^pose^er been
overtaken in orime. Bat othdMLfln whom
religions instruction ooald mafefe pp apparent
impression, arc back hewTorblsewhere
imprisoned for their culpability." Here is
a library containing 1,496 volumes, add
which is being yearly increased by respectable
additions. We are assured that the
books are in great demaod.fe^lierisaWefcy
confinement compels them tpl
as a means of ocnpyiBg*tn?9'timdwrhen not
at labor, and thup, in a long imprisomriont,
a real passion for'feading is inmanycaaea
implanted.^The^African
Slave^Trade jk.xhe
VTW v?u juwgw iiuui ?ug OlttYOTj
or suspected slavers, whictr ^e^con^noaljy
clearing from this and adjaeent phrtnM^hc
escape of the Storm King&h&dQfir day,
from the sarveillance of thefeawU authorities,
is not a novel affair, although kris^e
firrt time, we believe, in which the?defib}uent
officials were .brought to acoount.
there is no doubt that vessels are fitted out
by the score every year for the African
slave trade, and owing to the corruption
which exists among the subordioateMwejal
jfficers they manage to mai&good their departure
unmolested, agtygjt best subjected to
i temporary detention Curious enough,
xk>, nearly all vessels engaged in this illegal
traffic are built and fitted out in the North
?the fanatical, anti-slavery North?that
raves so fiercely about the sufferiijgajflfte
legro race. We rarely hear of a dlarer
clearing from a Southern port^ and we beieve
the only case known of conviction
> ; 1 -
or running slaves was naa m a oOutuern
>ity N. Y. HerakL
How xo Fin? SJa? YBAK^fe^nd
vhether any given yeaftod leap year, divide
t by 4, and if there be do remwnaer'jtas
cap year; bat if i*, 2, or 3 remain, it i? ao
nany years after leap year. There is, howjver,
an exception to this rale, wMchia,
hat if a given year consifit&$f%ven centu ies,
the number of centuries must be dialled
by 4, and if there be no remainder,
hat century is leap year.
Thus, 1819 is the third year after leap
rear; 1860 is leap year, 1900 will not be
eap year, because in 1900 the nomber^f
enturies is not divided by 4, but* 2000
rill.
4??- Miss Tennessee Gibson, a beantifnl
oung lady, died from the effects of siraff
tipping, in Arkansas. She foil asleep with
be <mop' in her month, and was found a
orpse some hoars after. A post mortem reealed
the fact that she had swallowed the
nice, which was con verted, into nicotine, a
eadly poison; her lips, clfeek and breast
rere smeared with tbe foal staff in her dyig
struggles, alone'in her room.' Before
be retired she felt a deadly sickness, bavjg
swallowed some of the juice, but she
ad used it so long, nothing was thought of
er complaint until, alas! it was too late.
A woman?a married woman?who
Avmito rioranlf 4a fflnlf. vith vlal? aatm)!
ioo in life, and allows herself to be charmed
or feel an emotion of envy toward
hose who are pecnniarily better situated
ban herself, has already taken the first
tep that may lead her on to rain and disrace,
and will be the text of future remorse
coupled with degradation. Envy
nd pride go hand in hand^ Women will
o well to ponder this^ And let content
take happy homee.
,
tcf Be ever kind to woman; she is the
iother, sister, daughter, and companion,
rithont whom life would be intolerable to
tan. ;