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lewis m. grist, proprietor, j Inbepenbent Jarniln ftetospjier: Jor % |)romotion of tjje political, Social, Agricultural anb Commercial Interests of % Sonl|. TERMS--$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. Q6. YOEKVILLE, S. C? THURSDAY, AUGUST 5, 1880. NO. 32. THE END. The course of the weariest river Euds in the great gray sea ; The acorn, forever and "ever, Strives upward to the tree. The rainbow, the sky adorning, Shines promise through the storm ; The glimmer of coming morning Through midnight gloom will form. By time all knots are riven, Complex although they be, And peace will at last be given, Dear, both to you and to me. Then though the path may be dreary, Look onward to the goal; Though the heart and the head be weary, Let faith inspire the soul. Seek the right though the wrong be tempting; j Speak truth at any cost; Vain is all weak exempting When once the gem is lost. His strong hand and keen eye be ready, For plain and ambushed foes ; Thought earnest, and fancy steady Bear best unto the close. The heavy clouds may be raining But wltn evening comes me ngui; Through the dark are low winds complaining, Yet the sunrise gilds the height; And love has his hidden treasure For the patient and the pure; And time gives his fullest measure To the workers who endure ; And the word that no law has shaken Has the future pledge supplied ; For we know that when we "awaken" We shall be "satisfied." Ike Itofg- ItUct., A POINT OF HONOR. I was dining at table d'hote in the only country of Europe where a decent dinner is still to be got at such places, when my attention was attracted by a tall, reserved man, in the uniform of a cavalry officer, who sat at the head of a side table. Beside me was a Queen's messenger, Capt Bolton, who, of course knew everything and everybody, from the gossip of the legations which he visited in a professioual capacity; so I asked him who the grave looking soldier might be. His reply was a startler. "That is Field Marshal Eisenberg," answered the Queen's messeuger, coolly, naming one of the first soldiers of our age. "He always dines here, and has done so ever since I have been in the line." "Odd place to pick up a Field Marshal, at a dinner in a public house, isn't it, at least iu these piping times of peace ?" "Ha!" exclaimed Capt. Bolton, who, like several of the distinguished corps to which he belonged, is an agreeable rattle. "Ha, there by hangs a tale?don't you know it ?" I had just returned?for I, too, am "in the line"?from Barataria, whither I had been sent by a grateful country for not belonging to one of the governing families then in power, so I replied, somewhat to Bolton's astonishment, "I did not know." "Well, then, remarked the Captain, gaily, "I will tell it to you when I have done with this pheasant and melon salad, which is too good to spoil for an anecdote. He ate for some time in silence and with such an evident sense of enjoyment that I did not venture to question him further, though I noticed a certain preoccupied air about him, as though he were trying to recall some half forgotten incident, or were, perhaps, trying to put it into language which would do more j credit to his reputation as an expert narrator. { By and by, wheu the coSee came he lit a ' niorar_ which had been sent him bv little i "*D"- ' # Jiuks, our vice consul at Havana, and as the first wreaths of perfumed smoke curled mund about him, he thus delivered himself i "The marshal used to have a sou." As he spoke the gaunt upright figure of the , famous military commander strode by. He j turned his haggard face towards us as he did so, but there was no speculation in his eves,; and the life that was in him seemed only to j carry a heart that was dead. Though every ; one at the hotel made room for him with a sortof awe-stricken respect, he saluted nobody, j but passed out into the street like some | mournful spectre, not terrible, but unuterably i sad. Then we heard the clank of his sword I in the ante room, and ouce his sword smote against his spurs as he girded it on. Then he was gone. His appearance had served but j to emphasize Capt. Bolton's statement, that "he used to have a sou." The Queen's messenger, who had been interrupted by the solemn apparition above mentioned, threw back his head, perhaps to get a better view of his subject, took a long ftull at his cigar, finished his coffee, began his iquor, and then went on with his story. "Yes, as I was sayiug, Field Marshal Count Eisenberg had a son who was one of the finest young men in the army. He was k in a light cavalry regiment, and all the girls k went mad about him. You never saw a fel^ low better built, or with more downright pluck ]|& and go in him. Hang it, sir, he deserved to be an Englishman, and I used to tell him so when I passed through here, and could get a day's shooting with hira at Edelsheim?a grand place his governor had then. It is sold uow. Never was a more cheery or better companion thau Rudy Eisenberg. He could ride as well Lord Cork, and shoot snap shots with any one you like to name. It wasn't all glitter either about him. He had been out iu a big war, and done all sorts of fine things. His nerves were said to be wonder-! fully steady under fire, and he had ridden j well to the front in one of the bloodiest hand-; to hand fights on record. Of course he did j not rise in rank very quickly, for the Mar- I shal would not hear of his being promoted out of his turn, and there was nothing of the j cocktail about him, so he did not put himself in the way of special service to shrink his j rporimpntjJ Hntips but overvbodv looked UDon ! him, with good reason, as a man who was booked for every prize of life that does not go by favor. Not a chap in the regimeut, from the colonel to the piper, had a word to say agaiust him. "Unluckily," mused Captain Bolton, again throwing his head back, perhaps for philosophy's sake this time, "that was just it. People liked him too much, especially ladies. There was a whisper that an illustrious beauty, not far off from the reigning dynasty, had fretted herself nearly crazy about him ; and though even the court officials agreed that he had behaved very well in a mysterious business that it would not do to talk about, Rudy Eisenberg went to parade with a face as white as a ghost after a masked ball, where it was thought some scandal had taken place. I I would advise you never to touch on this part: of the story if you mean to make any stay | here. One thing only had oozed out, and ' this was that the love, if there was love, had been mutual; and I have heard that Rudy j got a little wrong in the head after it was all j over. The doctors spoke of brain fever, and recommended change of air ; so the old marshal, who knew nothing about money, gave his son about enough to keep him for a week, aud sent him off to Hamburg for the waters. The devil's own play was going on at that picturesque little hole in those days, and young Eisenberg naturally found himself tumble headlong into the set who lived where it was hottest. There was Bob Cheyke, of the Life Guards, and Agincourt, who had just come to title ; with Ivry de Videsac, the crack Frenchman, who went such a tremendous smash two years later; and Crichton and Maulverer, with Jack Nortimau, Birbautaki Pasha, old Lord Chowser, and I do not know how mauy more of the same lot. I fancy Rudy Eisenberg did not know what to make first. Their ways ! ways, but he soon fell into them. As mis | chance would have it, too, he spoke a little English, and that helped, I dare say, for he had got many of the stolid, honest ideas of his countrymen about improving himself, and very likely thought at times that he might some day have to act his part in a Battle of Dorking, so that it might be as well to prepare for the emergencies that would probably arise out of such a situation, whether he was among the conquered. For a while Cheyke and the rest of them used to always find him in his den on the fifth floor of a cheap hotel, poring over books of tactics and working out military problems with corks and pins, or one of those wonderfully accurate maps issued by his native war office. But they soon badgered him out of that and at last he was forever with tbem when they were going fastest. He rode a steeple-chase on Agincourt's horse and won it gallantly for him, but he also held the bank against Ivry de Videsac and Lord Chowser for three nights running without going to bed, and he wen nothing, as you may expect, ' T? I T I f at tnat game, ineijoru kuuw? *vimt ?oppened next. It was never made quite clear. Some fellows will have it that Nortiman and Bob Cheyke, who had won a whole pot of money from him, insisted on having it at once, and il; is certain that a check bearing the Field Marshal's signature, given in payment to Cheyke, was refused by the Bilkendrofs, his bankers. But by the first express train afterwards, the old Count came to Homburg himself, stalked into Bob's rooms at the best hotel, laid down the money on his toilet table, and then stalked out again without a word. I hardly like to tell on my own responsibility what followed, but Lord Chowser says that he met the Marshal upon the stairs leading to Rudy's room, and that he could not help hearing what passed between them through the half-open door of young Eisenberg's apartment. It was very brief The old s ddier sternly confronted his son. " 'Iche habe' then said he, 'das schmutzes geld bezc It. I have paid the foul gold for which you have so dishonored us. Now do your part." And as he ceased speaking he placed on the table between them a pistol he had brought with him. "The young man made no answer, but the next moment there was a loud report, and the Marshal came forth from the presence of his dead son, with that white ashen face you have just seen. He never smiled again. "All the set who were mixed up in the affair naturally tried to put the best face on it. Boh says he had a right to get his money, and so does Nortiman ; but Chowser though he is a hardish old boy, doesn't like to talk much on the subject, and I believe had to consult his doctor respecting a ghost, or something of that sort, which he fancied was following him about, and wanted to catch hold of hirn whenever he was alone." "Ah," I said, yawning, "very odd, isn't it?" I did not know what else to say, and I don't know how, only I was glad that the story was over. Bolton and I then passed the rest of the evening in wituessing some capital card tricks, performed by a regular professor of sleight-of-hand, who was making a great noise on the Continent. As I looked at this amusing artist, also, I thought that if such funny things can be done with cards by men of experience, it may be possibly as well for inexperienced youth to think twice, or even thrice, before sitting down to games of skill where cards are concerned. A STORY*OF A DREAM. ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF THE MYSTERIOUS RELATIONS OF VISIONS AND FACTS. - ^ 1 - xt- _ I lu lSljy 1 was in .Miez, in comraana oi me British steamship Neera, belonging to the Bombay and Bengal Steamship Company? a company owning a liue of steamers born of the necessities of the manufacturing world when the supply of American cotton was so largely cut off by the war of Secession. The line was uuder the management of William F. Stearns, now deceased, son of the late Professor Stearns, of Amherst College?a man who, going to India penniless, developed qualities which enabled him to rise on the flood-tide of prosperity to a colossal fortune and high social position, but, as it proved, only to see his riches float out ou the receding tide and leave his family but poorly provided for at his untimely death. The Neera was lying in Suez roads, the canal being not yet open, awaiting passengers, <fec., before sailing on her return voyage to Bombay. The Peninsular and Oriental Company's steamer Carnalic was also about ready to sail for the same port, and only waiting tuaite and passengers. It happened that the passengers for the two steamers came across the Isthmus together, and that two old friends and schoolmates met, the one to join the Neera, the other the Carnatic. A day was spent by the friends, who unexpectedly met on the Egyptian desert, in recounting their experiences since they last parted, and, naturally enough, there was a good deal of badinage between them as to the comparative merits of the two steamers, and as to which should first land on the "coral strand," upon which these "griffins" were to be initiated rliifloo in fKo '/mtjiI aartipp " til UJbU tll^U UUWW 14* VIIU VI V wv? ?v which they had been newly appointed." The Carnatic was the first to be ready and sailed from Suez in the morning; the Neera left early in the evening, some ten or twelve hours after the mail steamer. The night was fine, aud at breakfast time we had passed Shaduan Island, were out of the Gulf of Suez, and into the Red Sea proper. Breakfast was served on deck under double awnings of heavy canvas. The young gentleman who had* left his friend the day before seemed somewhat depressed in spirits, and during breakfast said, rather anxiously, "Captain, at what time did we stop last night ?" "Stop! We have not stopped since leaving," was the reply. "Not even to take soundings?" "No; the engiues have not been eased since leaving port." The young man seemed much surprised, and finally said that he had a most vivid and remarkable dream during the night, and this he proceeded to relate in substance as-follows: "In my dream it appeared to me that the steamer was stopped during the night, aud that I went on deck to ascertain the cause. I saw a boat pulling off from an island to intercept us, and a lantern was waved to arrest our attention. As the boat came nearer I saw my friend Morton standing in the stern. As he came up the gangway ladder I said, 'For God's sake, Morton, what brings you here1" I never saw him plainer, nor heard his voice more distinctly than when he said, 'The Carnatic has struck a rock and gone down ; the passengers and crew are on an island close by, all safe, and we want your ship to take them on board.' I dreamed that our ship stopped until other boats came off with the remainder of the people, and that we then proceeded." The narration of the dream made a profound impression upon the passengers, but the captain as in duty bound, laughed it off. The young man proved a jolly sort of fellow, but was called "the dreamer" during the rest of the voyage. On arriving at Aden, five days later, before our anchor was down, we were hailed by a boat which had been dispatched from the Peninsular and Oriental office, and asked if we had any news of the Carnatic, that ship being a day overdue. We had no news to give, but our dreamer quietly remarked to me: "You may find that there is more in my dream than you supposed." A few hours completed our coaling and we were off again for Bombay. On arrival at that port we heard the news of the loss of the Carnatic, and the circumstances were just as narrated to us two weeks before. The ship ' struck ou a rock near Shaduan Island, some j twelve hours after leaving Suez. The passen- j I gers and crew were landed on the island. The : steamer subsequently slid off the rock and went down in deep water. During the night a steamer's lights were seen by the shipwrecked crew and a boat was sent out to intercept her. Our dreamer's friend Morton went in the first boat. The remainder of the people were subsequently taken on board, and the rescuing steamer proceeded on her voyage to Suez. Except that another steamer, not the Neera, rescued the party, the dreamer told the story as well as it could be told to day. It seems probable that our dreamer's vision was shown him at the very moment the shipwrecked people were embarking upon the steamer which came to their aid, and that the Neera was not ten miles from the scene at the time. It may be stated, in conclusion, to show the perfection to which the postal system of thr world has arrived, that the only letter addressed to the writer which ever failed to reach him in all his twenty years' wanderings went down in the Carnatic. UlisrrUaticous fading. A STORY OF THE WAR ~ A singular story, as one of the thousand strange events of the war, comes from a rural town in East Tennessee. It seems that in the early part of the war, a man in the town alluded to, having in his possession eight hundred dollars in specie, and fearing the consequences of keeping it by him, or at least making this the pretext for his conduct, approached an honest, well meaning woman in the town, the wife of a small shopkeeper, and desired her to take the money and keep it for him. His reasons for taking the request were that in war times it was not prudent for a man who might reasonably be suspected of owning specie to keep so large an amount in his possession, while she, in whose honesty he had every conBdence, could take it, secrete it in a careful place and never be suspected by any one of having it. It was also imposed by hira that she should never, by any possibility, let any one? even her own husband?into the secret. After some hesitation the woman consented to take the money, and entered faithfully upon the discharge of her undertaking. The treasure was carefully concealed, and the secret so sacredly guarded on her part, that not even her husband was aware of the responsibility she had assumed. A few months rolled by, the woman giving herself no further couceru about the money than occasionally to satisfy herself that it was safe in the place of concealment, until one day a man?a neighbor?presented himself to the honest woman and told her that he was an an officer of the Confederate Government fully authorized and empowered to claim and seize, in behalf of the Government, all the specie in the land. To make his pretensions more plausible, he represented that the Government was in pressing need of gunboats, which could be obtained only with gold, and that every dollar in the Confederacy must be surrendered. The quasi official hinted to the woman that from the known frugality of herself and husband? they alone constituting the family,'and besides living within the bounds of rigorous economy, hoarding every penny, as is the wont of all shop-keepers of their class, the husband being a thrifty German?it was strongly suspected that they had a large sum of specie laid away. The good woman trera bled violently at the prospect ot thus naving to surrender the scanty savings of many years of deprivation, toil and anxiety, not to say the trial of calamitous misfortune which at one time had befallen them before settling in the town, and while wringing her hands in despair her mind was happily relieved by the pretended officer himself. The secret which she had so sacredly guarded, and the importance of which was so seriously impressed upon her by the only man interested in the preservation of his own money, was known by this dread officer of the Government. He quietly told her that he. knew she had in her possession this money. As an officer of the Government it was his duty to demand it, and if she would quietly hand it over without delay, he would give her no molestation as to any coin she and her husband owned in their own right. He admitted that they had met with misfortune, were now advancing in years, and he felt that he might in their peculiar case forego the imperative duties of his office; but the money she held in trust?the gold belonging to a man of wealth, whose duty it was to aid with every means in his power the Government to which he owed allegiance?this was altogether a different matter. He did not wish to use force. He hoped not to have to resort to the disagreeable necessity of calling upon the military arm to send a file of soldiers to search her premises, who might find more than the object sought; while such proceeding would also divulge for the first time to her husband the fact that she had the money in her possession. The tortured wOraan now began to realize the nature of her position. While ordinarily she made no concealments from her husband, and the couple lived harmoniously and amicably together, both laboring in their respec tive spheres to secure a competency of this world's goods, yet she had pledged her word to a man to whom she was under no special obligation, to keep the secret even from her husband. She had successfully done so up to this time; and the pretended Government agent subtly advised that there was no necessity to mention the matter to her husband then. All trouble could be remov"^ 1 U?? fn fKn Ko. tru Bliupijr uy 1IC1 \jU?ow vuwun/uvv w mv hestof the Government. He therefore advised a ready compliance, suggesting that her husband be kept in ignorance of the matter. The poor woman, unused to the ways of the world, and whose fear of losing the scanty savings of a life time had been wrought to the highest tension by the interview, in the faint gleam of hope to save her own carefullyhoarded treasure, lost sight of what might be the next false step of guarding from her j husband a secret involving a business trans-1 action, to her at least, of such import, and j which might seriously embarrass them both j the remainder of their lives. With trembling hand, ?;nd, it must be ad-1 raitted, many misgivings as to her duty, not j only iu the matter of yet breaking the secret j j to her husband, but also her obligation to j the man whose trustee she innocently became, and glad to relieve herself of an unwelcome visitor, she produced the bags of glittering ! coin?glittering in a double sense, reflecting j not only their precious value in those days of scarcity and want, but, like the eyes of the deadly basilisk, gleaming danger and destruction. Many minutes elapsed after the departure of the "impressing master" before the woman could collect her wits, nor was it until near night-fall that she began to realize that she had acted improperly, not from bad motives, except, perhaps, a secret hope that in surrendering this money her own would be safe from impressment; but it dawned upon her, when too late, that her proper course would have been to refer the officer or agent to the owner of the money. , But in her surroundings, the tact so readily at command of her sex, had deserted her. Her self control, woman's strong armor in the face of danger, failed to serve her, so completely was she overcome by the presence of a supposed government official, the nature of whose mission implied a hundred horrors suggested by the strong arm of the power that knew no law and respected no private rights. Her evening duties, if not performed with the cleverness for which she was noted as a skillful, tidy house-keeper, were discharged in such a manner as to excite no comment from her husband. The frugal meal was prepared and eaten with only the conversation usually indulged by them at table. The dishes were cleaned, the"tallow-dip," the only substitute for a lamp, was lighted, and after the customary family devotions, which were never omitted, the couple retired. But with what different feelings did each seek the couch of repose ? The husband?an invalid, but through many years of suffering, patient and uncomplaining, conscious of never having done bis fellow-man a wrong, seeking the quiet repose of the righteous; the woman? guileless as a child, who would instinctively shrink from the least wrongful deed, her mind racked with the fear that she bad committed au act not wrongful in itself, but which might bring upon her untold misery, if not poverty, to herself and husband. Fear and hope alternating in her breast, she passed a sleepless, restless night, and arose the next morning with haggard face and troubled expression, which her husband, had his duties kept him in the house that morning, would have easily detected. But fortuuately, he made no discovery, and after the routine of the morning's work had been performed by the tireless woman, she made a pretext for calling upon a neighbor, and with beating heart hastily repaired to the man who had entrusted her with the money. With language eloquent in its simplicity, she recited the whole story. She told how implicitly, in the effort to render him a service, she had kept the secret from every human being, not excepting her husband ; the anxiety the trust had imposed upon her for so long a time; with tears streaming down her cheeks which had previously known no furrows, she related all that occurred between her and the i j i l _ i I l preienaea oraciai ; now sne iieiiiutieu, nuu now at last, as she supposed in obedience to the requirements of her country, she reluctantly gave up the money. If she had acted wrongfully she pleaded ignorance and fear, induced by the novelty of the' situation. She saw, when too late, what would have been the proper course for her to pursue, "but," she concluded, "as the agent would have taken it from you any way, I hope my offense is not so great at last. My conscience is clear that I did not divulge the secret of having the money in my possession, and if, through fear and trembling, and under compulsion, I surrendered it to the Government, as was demanded, I trust you will show the pity I crave." But the man of money was not of a forgiving nature. With stern countenance he heard her simple story, and replied that she should have knowu better; that there was no such officer empowered to impress money from citizens, and that in strict justice to himself he must require her to refund every cent of it. Fortunately, the woman was prepared for the worst; and fortunately, through a life of toil and care, she had learned "to suffer and grow strong." But to replace this sum of eight hundred dollars in coin, at that time, would have been difficult, even with men of financial resources; to her it seemed an impossibility. To break the secret to her husband at this stage, she feared, would entail the bitterest consequences. Though a kind husbaud, he was of irascible temper, and this last stroke of misfortune added to reverses which he had patiently borne, might, in the evening of her life, b.'ing untold vials of his wrath upon her head ; ">r what she most feared?true and devoted wife as she was?it might hasten the climax of an aggravating disease and cause the death of him whom she bad promised "to nurse through sickness" cherish, love and obey, until death did them part. In this dilemma her only source of relief noma Thp man whnm shfi attemnted to serve?the man who imposed the task upon her?he who seemed instrumental in filling her cup of sorrow to the brim?made a proposition, the only "feasible plan," as he said, that presented itself, and one which, to any but a guileless, confiding woman would have seemed to have been "cut and dried" for the occasion. It was proposed that if she did not have the money to replace the forfeited sum immediately, she should become his debtor to that amount, and pay it in installments as she could. But the currency of that period could not be received. Only specie would suffice. And it was stipulated that as her husband had been thus far kept in ignorance of the transaction, as a matter of policy it would now be best to admit no one into the secret. Only too glad to know the worst, the woman took the only alternative. She returned to her home, and as best she could, set about the new burden imposed upon her. Though our story covers a period of many years, but little more remains to be told. Schooled in adversity from a child, self-imposed lessons of the most rigid economy did not go so hard with her. A little saved here, and a little there, the deprivation of articles of dress, and the many little economies which one can practise when a motive prompts, enabled her year by year to reduce the debt, the last cent of which was discharged fourteen years after the unfortunate transaction with the bogus Government agent, and only a few days before the death of her husband, to whom she ever proved a faithful and devoted wife# He never knew the secret of his wife's burden. While it is pleasant to know that he left his widow a competency, it would be a satisfaction also to know whether or not the man to whom she refunded the amount derived any benefit therefrom, and also whether or not the pretended "Government agent" ever received a portion as his share. Charity of Speech.?Charity of speech is as divine a thing as charity of action. The tongue that speaketh no evil is as lovely as the hand which giveth alms. To judge no one harshly, to misconceive no man's motive, to believe things are what they seem to be until they are proved otherwise, to temper judgment, to build up churches, establish asylums and to find colleges. Unkind words do as much harm as unkind deeds ; many a heart has been wounded beyond cure by words; many a reputation has been stabbed to death by a few little words. They have separated families, parted husbands and wives, and broken the ties between the dearest friends. There is a charity which consists in withholding words, in keeping back harsh judgments, in abstaining from speech, if to speak is to condemn. Such charity hears the tale of slander, but repeats it not; it will not be the one to help the ball roll. It listens in silence, but forbears comment, and it locks the unpleasant secret up in the very depths of his heart. While the busy, censorious world is wagging its tongue, charity sits dumb amid the clatter, refraining from passing judgment on that of which it has no proof and which, even, if it had, would prefer throwing the mantle of silence over the unpleasant matter. Could it be possible for slander to make the headway that it does, if reticence, instead of promulgation, was the universal rule ? Could report be furnished the hundred wings it has if there were not so many tongues | wagging? Silence can still rumor; it is speech that keeps it alive and lends it vigor. It is to the heart that is kind and gentle that charity flies and broods quietly over it with the peacefulness of the dove. There it makes its home, and by the words withheld and the kindly word outspoken, we have seen that the dove of peace is nestling in the heart. The heart which is filled with bitterness will give vent to it in words. It sees nothing bright or beautiful, because it looks through [ a clouded vision. Words are a pretty good j test of temper and habit of thought. As "to the pure all things are pure," so as to malicious and ill-tempered all things are black, unlovely and of ill repute. Words are the signs of thought, and if the thoughts be sweet and good the words will be kind and gentle, free from malice and jncbaritableness. Therefore, by our words do we proclaim what we are, the good fairy droppiug diamonds from her mouth, or evil fairy dropping toads. THE YIOLIN. Iu a lecture which he recently delivered at the Royal Institution in London, on the construction, the history and the sound of the violin, Mr. Haweis called attention to the variety in shape and style of the instruments of the viol tribe, ancient and modern, as showing the inexhaustible fascination they possessed over the human mind. The wood was selected by the best makers of the old violins with extreme care. At Brecia tbey used the pear, lemon and asb ; at Cremona, maple, sycamore, and, of course, pine. * * * The wood came into the markets of Mantua, Brecia, Cremona, Venice, Milan, from the Swiss southern Tyrols, unlimited in supply, often mighty timbers of great age?plentiful then, scarcer now. The makers had their pick; they tested it for intensity and-quality. Cut strips of wood and strike them, you will vary in musical sound. When a good acoustic beam was found the maker kept it for his best work. In Joseph?Guarerius and Stradivarius the same pine tree crops up at intervals of years. A good maker will patch and join and inlay to retain every article of tried timber. Old wood is oddly vocal. As I sat in my room, surrounded by these instruments, I could not cough or move without ghostly voices answering me from the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries ; and even the old saxoned sacks-and bellies of unstrung violins are full of echoes." Taking a violin and tearing it open, the lecturer continued ; "The violin is made of fifty-eight or seventy niopoa 1>. in nn licrhfc as a feather and as I strong as a horse. Wood about as thick as a half crown by exquisite adjustment resists for four centuries a pressure of several hundred weight The belly of soft deal, the back of hard sycamore, are united by six ribs of sycamore and supported by twelve blocks with linings. The sound bar running obliquely under the left foot of the bridge, is the nervous system of the violin ; the soundpost, supporting the bridge, is the soul; through it passes all the heart throbs or vibrations generated between the back and the belly ; on its position depends mellowness, or intensity of sound. The prodigious strain of the strings is resisted first by the arch of the belly, then by the ribs, strengthened with the upright blocks, the pressure upon which is evenly distributed by the lining which unites them, and, lastly, by the supporting sound bar and sound post and back." The secret of the ancient varnish, on which some of the qualities of the instrument probably depend, is still only partly revealed. Mr. Haweis believes with Charles Reade, that it was an heterogeneous varnish, first of oil with gum in solution, the colors evaporated in spirit. THE YOUNGEST PEOPLE. Who are the people who grow old the earliest? Not those who work hardest, suffer most, or feel most passionately, one would suppose. Their faces may be worn, their beauty may depart, but there is a lingering touch of youth in all who live however sadly, to the last?in all who work with hands or brain, in all who feed their emotions and keep the fire of thought alive. Strong feeling, and much brain work? burning the candle at both ends?may drive men mad ; but it is vacant life, the purposeless existence, the absence of emotion, that plunges them into that condition of old age known as childjfhness. mL 1. ...I... ? 1 Lie peupie W11U, iu uianj, icjjimciji uiu age, are mummies still above ground. They care nothing for those about them ; they do not remember their past. They regret nothing. Physical pain alone can awaken them to interest in themselves. But such old age as that never comes to those who have lived active lives, who have lived and worked for others, who have been interested in the great subjects of the day, or in the humblest affairs of humanity. The idle rich woman who had nothing to do in her youth, the stupid poor woman who toiled grudgingly, who married without love, and to whom a husband was only a master and children a burden then, these make the weary, wrinkled, soulless old women of the world. And younger people looking at them say, "poor humanity! it must come to this!" while all around them are women who have lived many more years-, who have toiled, who have suffered, who should be worn out, but who are young at heart still, who respond to a word or a glance as quickly as in early youth, and who will be active human beings wbile they live, because they have nourished their souls. Women who are prominent in their professions do not break down with their toil. Nay, there are old washerwomen who, from helping their neighbors, keeping up their own independence, their religious feelings and their pride in their work, are bright and busy in extreme old age. No woman need fear that feeling or occupation will make her grow old early. A lack of interest in life, a want of something to do, the rusting of emotions will age her earlier than any toil or suffering. And a woman who loves?whose -children are dear tn her whn has friends whn need her and whom she needs, never falls into that condition of old age from which we shrink with horror. Disease will do its work, of course; but give health, and any woman may keep her heart young while she lives. ? ? ? ? . What "Culture" Is.?Form a habit of quoting from the books you read. If you try to quote and fail, don't be discouraged, but look the matter up and succeed the next time. When you visit, talk about your books rather than about your neighbors. Persevere in your labor, and great shall be your reward. Do not be discouraged if at first you do not like this or that standard author. Remember that men of culture do like him, and you will like him when you have made culture yours. In boyhood, one thinks Yankee Doodle on a fiddle, or a picture of Peter with* a green beard, the perfection of music and art; while Beethoven and Raphael have no charms. But years and culture bring a change. And so in reading. Persistent effort in the line of right will bring its reward. The times are such, the spirit of the age is such, the circumstances that surround us are such, the longing souls of our children are such, that if we would keep these loved ones of our households long under the roof-tree and within the sacred circle of home, we must bring to them this culture that they will not leave us to seek some other where. - It was the prayer of Him who died that ' we might live, that blind eyes might be opened and deaf ears unstopped. The petition may well be re echoed to-day, that the mentally blind and mute may see and bear the beauty and harmony that now lie hidden from tbem in the unexplored region of books. There stands before us all an open door, the way into the worlcl of books! Shall we enter??Saturday Evening Call. POLITICAL NEWSPAPERS. The partisan press, in all sections of the Republic, are doing the work of a Colossus in upholding and defending their respective candidates for the Presidency. This is not a severe task in this campaign, for both candidates are gentlemen against whom little can be said. Yet with paid and unprincipled hacks of the partisan press this is of no consequence; they have become so trained in abusing an opponent that they hunt up all the microscopic faults and flaws in his character. and make him out a first-class no body?unworthy of public confidence, and incapable of filling the humblest office in the country. It is this gross license of the political press in this country that gives us a bad repute in Europe. The foreigner cannot understand why we nominate such weak or blotched characters for our rulers ; and why, when they are elected, we condone their faults or crimes. And this indiscriminate abuse of our public men is regarded as an element of weakness in a republican form of government. And in this they are nearly right. Unlicensed abuse in politics destroys public confidence, breaks down the barriers of selfrespect which we owe to those who may become Chief Mag strates; and in this way under mines self-gjverment Undoubtedly there has been great improvement in political newspapers within the last third of a century. They are less coarse, less libellous, less personal, and yet there is abundant room for improvement. In the first place, our people are moro intelligent than they were a third of a century or more ago; they need no pensioned journals to teacti tnem toe transcenaant principles of free government; they need no decayed editorial hack to lash them into the support of any man. All of us are sufficiently educated to know the principles of the government under which we live; all of us are amply qualified to judge the qualifications of presidential candidates; all of us know that political newspapers are generally for hire, that their influence can be bought, that their opinions?relatively cheaper than stale fish?can be bad for a consideration.? Wooniocket (R. I.) Patriot. What They Knew Foub Thousand Years Ago.?The Popvlar Science Monthly publishes extracts from the address of Chief Justice Daley before the New York Geographical society, in which he says: From one of these books, compiled after the manner of our modern encyclopedias, and the compilation of which is shown to have been made more than 2,000 years B. C., it has been ascertained, what has long been supposed, that Chaldea was the parent land of astronomy ; for it is found, from this compilation and from other bricks, that the Babylonians catalogued the stars, and distinguished and named the constellations; that they arranged the twelve constellations that form oifr present zodiac to show the course of the sun's path in the heavens; divided time into weeks, months, and years; that they divided the week, as we now have it, into seven days, six being days of labor and the seventh a day of rest, to which they gave a name from which we have derived our wqrd "sabbath" and which day, as a day of rest from all labor of every kind, they observed as rigorously as the Jew or the Puritan. The motion of the heavenly bodies and phenomena of the weather were noted down, and a connection, as I have before stated, detected, as M. de Perville claims to have discovered, between the weather and the changes of the moon. They invented the sun dial to mark the movements of the heavenly bodies, the water clock to mer^ure time, and they speak in this work of the spots on the sun, a fact they could have known only by the aid of telescopes, which it is supposed they possessed, from observations that they have noted down of the rising of Venus and the fact that Layard found a crystal lens in the ruins of Nineveh. These "bricks" contain an account of the Deluge, substantially the same as the narrative in the Bible,-except that the names are different. They disclose that houses and land were then sold, leased, and mortgaged, that money was loaned at A*|J *Ua4> 4-Urt mawbAf /rov^onOM fn Ju LCI COLj auu tuab i/ut? Uiaia^b gt?iuviiviO| w use an American phrase, "worked on shares," that the farmer, when plowing with his oxen, beguiled his labor with short and homely songs, two of which have been found, and connect this very remote civilization with the usages of to-day. y THE IRONY OF LIF^ But, after all, the irony of life is best shown when we consider time with reference to eternity. It must seem almost inconceivable to celestial beings, if they have any consciousness of what takes place on earth, that we, the insects of the hour, who profess to believe in immortality and a future state, should live as if our existence on earth were our all in all. The disproportion between the interests at stake is so infinite that comparison is impossible. And yet, practically, the great majority of Christian men do live as if this world were everything, and throw themselves with as much eagerness into the trifles of the present as if they were to last forever. What a tremendous irony there is in the parable of our Saviour. "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully; and bethought within himself, saying, 'What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits ? And i *11 T 1 T Ml 11 J ne saia, "?nis win i ao: jl win pun uowu ujy bams, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul : Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease; eat, drink and be merry.'" But God said unto him, 'Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required of thee, then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided.'" This is the sum of the whole matter. If we live in the full consciousness that we are but shadows here, and pursue only shadows upon earth?that we are but children who await a glorious inheritance, and that nothing is of real value which does not fit us for our future destiuy?there will be no irony in our lives as regards our sins and our employments, for we shall subordinate everything to the thought of the hereafter. We shall know how to proportion our interests and avoid all extravagance, either of sorrow or of joy, thankfully making use of the blessings which the favor of the Almighty may bestow upon us, but always in our life voyage keeping steadily in view the haven for which we are bound. Wait, Boys.?Tobacco using is especially injurious to boys before they obtain their growth. Careful experiments recently conducted by an eminent physician afford convincing proof of this. He took for his purpose 38 boys, who were in the habit of smoking, and examined them closely. In 27 of them he found hurtful effects plainly to be seen, 22 having various disorders of circulation and digestion, palpitation of the heart and more or less craving for strong drink ; 12 of these boys wer? frequently troubled with bleeding at the nose, 10 had disturbed sleep and 12 had slight ulceration of the mucuous membrane of the mouth, which disappeared after discontinuation of tobacco for ten or twelve days. The physician treated them all for weakness and nervousness, with no avail until they had given up smoking, when health and strength were speedily restored. The use of tobacco is injurious to all, but especially so to youth. Dr. Rankin, Dr. Richardson and others who have made a special study of the subject, all agree in declaring that it causes in them impairment of growth, and premature vitality and physical degradation. One of its worst effects is the provocation of an appetite for liquor in both young and old. Men who want to give up drinking usually have to gjve up smokiing at the same time, for they say a-cigar or pipe excites a desire for liquor very hard to control. The rooting out of the habit of tobacco usinc will render it easier to eradicate liquor drinking. The Milky Way.?The milky way forms the grandest feature of the firmament. It completely encircles the whole fabric of the skies, and sends its light down upon us, according to the bent observations, from no less than 18,000,000 of suns. These are planted at various distances, too remote to be more than little understood; but their lighi;, the medium of measurement, requires for ifc transit to our earth, periods ranging from ten to a thousand years. Snch is the sum of the great truths revealed to us by the two Herschels, who, with a zeal which no obstacle could daunt, have explored every part of the prodigious circle. Sir William Herechal, after accomplishing his famous section, believed that he had gauged the milky way to its low[ est depth, affirming that he could follow a A ^ -a.? 1-2? A?/lAnotfh/dA^ Cluster ui stars yyiuu uis teicawjroj wuouuvm/u expressly for the investigation, as far b6.ck as would require 330,000 years for the transit of its light. But presumptuous as it may seem, we must be permitted to doubt this assertion, as the sarra telescope in the same master hand was not si fficiently powerful to resolve even the nebulae in Orion. Nor must we forget that light, our only clew to those unsearchable regions, expands and decomposes in its progress, and, coming from a point so remote its radiant waves could be dispersed in space. Thus the reflection is forced upon us, that new clusters and systems, whose beaming light will never reach our earth, still throng beyond, and that, though it is permitted to man to behold the immensity, he shall never see the bounds of creation. ? ? Habit of Indecision.?There is a great deal of truth in what a gifted writer says concerning habits of indecision or dilatoriness. It is so much of it pure habit that children cannot be too early taught, first the necessity of making up one's mind, and then acting upon it. The trick of "hanging about," of wasting minute after minute, hourafter hour, in work as in play?for idlers never play conscientiously?is often acc uired in mere infancy, in imitation of eldert and betters, never to be gotten rid of to the end of life. What is in the boy or girl pure carelessness, becomes in the man or woman u confirmed peculiarity which haunts them Hike a curse, causing no end of misery to themselves and to all be) longing to them. One by one anmo a nr\l?i?ofirtn is nporlppfpd or thrown aside ?vri*?v ' n till the last chance of benefiting ourselves or our neighbor can never be recalled ; oi:r remorse .over an unanswered letter, when the writer has suddenly gone whither no k indly word can reach him more; our regret over cordial visits unpaid, and pleasant meetings unvalued, till friendship, worn ofll;, dies a natural death, or burns itself to ashes like a fire without fresh coals. Then we m?y lay the blame on Providence, luck, circumstances, anything or anybody except the true sinners, ourselves?but it is too late. We can no longer help ourselves. Can Success in Life be Commanded ? Can success in life be commanded ? Not always, yet assuredly much more frequently than is commonly supposed, three sjjecial qualifications being especially necessary to its attainment, namely, a definite object in view, a determination not to be baffled, and the capability of exercising continuous self-denial. To the man possessing these attributes, failure is next to an impossibility. There is, however, a fourth, which is perhaps even still more useful, and that is a belief in one's own powers, for persons who are doubtful of themselves seldom rise to any special eminence, being held back, by a species or mental panuysis, from putting forth strongly the capacity they may really possess. Such people rather wish than will. It is evident that exceptionally favorable circumstances are by no means necessary. On the contrary, the want of such assistance is often a chief factor in the development of latent power, and the assertion that genius is but another name for the power of attending closely is not altogether wanting in trut'.?The Spectator. The Mahogany Tree.?Full grown, the mahogany tree is one of the monarcbs of tropical At terica. Its vast trunk and massive arms, rising to a lofty height and spreading with graceful sweep over immense spaces, covered with beautiful foliage, bright, glossy, light and airy, clinging so long to the spray as to make iit almost an evergreen?pmient a rare combination of loveliness and grandeur. The leaves are very, small, delicate and polished like those of the laurel. The flowers are small and-white, or greenish yellow. The mahogany lumbermen, having selected a tree, surround it with a platform about twelve feet above the ground and cut it above the platform. Some dozen or fifteen feet of the largest part of the trunk are thus lost; yet a single log not unfrequently weighs from six or seven to fifteen tons, and sometimes measures as much as seventeen feet in length and four and a half to five and a half in diameter, one tree furnishing two, three or four such logs. Some trees have yielded 12,000 superficial feet, and at average prices have sold for 815,000. . ^ If V.... J10W TO 1KAIN THE iUEMUKX.? luur memory is bad, perhaps, but I can tell you two secrets that will cure the worst memory. One of them is to read a subject when interested ; the other is to not only read, but !;hink. When you have read a paragraph or a page, stop, close the book and try to remember the ideas of the page, and not only call them vaguely to mind, but put them in words and speak them out. Faithfully follow thete two rules and you have the golden keys of knowledge. Besides inattentive reading, there arr other things injurious to the memory. One is the habit of skimming over newspapers, items of news, smart remarks, bite of information, political reflection, fashion no:.es, so that all is a confused jumble, never to be thought of again, thus diligently cultivating a habit of careless reading hard to break. Another is the reading of trashy novels + m * Oatmeal.?Give the children oat-meat at least once a day. It is genuine bone and muscle food, and they must thrive. Could our girls make the morning and night meals on real nourishment?not pastry?take more to nourish the brain and nerves, we should have less of the neuralgia among our women. Indeed, this oatmeal mush would afford ample food for the last meal, which should ordinarily be the lightest, simple, and easy of digestion, securing good sleep, while it may well form a part of the morning meal. Its exclusive use would do much to promote health among us, f ??j