Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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H?TTT & 00., Proprietors. ANDERSON C. H., S. 0., THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 13, 1875. VOLUME X.?NO. 43. GOOD AS GOLD. Who shall judge him by his manners ? Who shall know him by his dress ? ' Paupers may be fit for princes, Princes fit for something less. Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket , May beclothe the golden ore, X>r the deepest thoughts and feelings? Satin vest can do no more. There are streams of crystal nectar Ever flowing out of stone; There are purple beds and golden, ;,j Hidden, crushed, and overthrown. KJod, who counts, by souls, not dresses, Loves and prospers you and me, While he values thrones the highest, But as pebbles in the sea. Man upraised above his fellows Oft forgets his follows then; Masters, rulers, lords, remember That your meanest hinds are men! Men of labor, men of feeling, Men of thought and men of fame, Claiming rights to golden sunshine In a man's ennobling name. There are foam-embroidered oceans, There are little wood-clad rills; *i?here are feeble, inch-high saplings, There are cedars on the hills. God, who counts by souls, not nations, Loves and prospers you and me; For to him all vain distinctions Axe as pebbles in the sea, Toiling hands alone are builders ???? Of a nation's wealth and fame; Titled laziness is pensioned, Fed and fattened on the same. r By the sweat of other foreheads, Living only to rejoice, .,. While the poor man's outraged freedom Vainly lifts its feeble voice. . Truth and justice are eternal. Born with loveliness and light; ?. Secret wrongs shall never prosper ?*l ? 1 While there is a sunny right. ' God, whose world wide voice is singing , Boundless love to you and me, Heeds oppression, with its titles, But as pebbles in the sea. An Old Style Grandmother. There is an old kitchen somewhere in the past, aod a*1 old-fashioned fireplace therein, with its smooth, old jambs of stone, smooth with many knives that have been sharpened there, smooth with many little fingers that have clung there. There are handirons, with rings in the top, wherein many temples of flame have been builded with spires and turrets crim? son. There is a broad, worn hearth?broad enough for three generations "to cluster on? worn by* feet that have been torn and bleeding by.the way, or been made "beautiful," and walked on floors of tesselated gold. There are tongs in the corner, wherewith we grasp a coal, and, "blowing for a little life," lighted our first candle; there is a shovel, wherewith was drawn forth the glowing embers, in which we saw our first fancies and dreamed our first dreams; the shovel with which we stirred the logs until the sparks rushed up the chimney as if a forge were in blast "below, and wished we had so many lambs or so many marbles, or so many some? things that we coveted, and so it was that we wished our first wishes. There is a chair?alow, rush-bottomed chair; there is a little wheel in the corner, a big wheel in the garret, a loom in the chamber. There are chests full of linen and yarn, and quilts of rare patterns and samples in frames. And everywhere, and always, the dear old wrinkled face of her whose firm elastic step mocks the feeble saunter of her children's chil? dren?the old-fashioned grandmother of twenty years ago.. She, the very Providence of the old homestead; she, who loved us all, and said she wished there were more of us to love, and took airthe children at the old school-house in the hollow for grand-children besides. A great ex? pansive heart was hers, beneath that woolen gown, or that more stately bombazine, or that sole heirloom of silken texture. We can see her to-day, those mild blue eyes, with more beauty in them than time could touch, or death could no more than hide?those eyes, that held both smiles and tears within the faintest call of every one of us, and soft reproof that seemed not passion but regret. A white tress has escaped from beneath her snowy cap. She lengthened the tether of a vine that was straying over a window, as she came in, and plucked a. four-leaved clover for Ellen. She sits down by the little wheel; a tress is run? ning'through her fingers from the distaffs dis? heveled head, when a small voice cries "Grand? ma," from the old red cradle, and "Grandma I" shouts. Tommy from the top of the stairs.? Gently she lets go the thread, for her patience is almost as beautiful as her charity, and she touches the little red 'bark a moment, till the young voyager is in dreamland again, and then directs Tommy's unavailing efforts to har? ness the cat. The tick of the clock runs faint and low, and sne opens the mysterious door and proceeds to wind it up. We are all on tip-toe, and beg in ?a breath to be lifted up one by one and allowed to look in for the hundredth time upon the tin cases of the weights, and the poor lonely fmdulum which goes to and fro by its little m window; and our petitions are all granted, and we are all lifted np and we all touch with the little finger the wonderful weights, and then ?the music of the wheel is resumed, for grand? mother's dainty fingers are never idle. Was Mary to be married, or Jane to be wrapped in a shroud? So sweetly did she wreathe the white rose in the hair of the one that you would not have wondered had more roses budded for company, and so meekly did ?she fold the white hands of the other upon her ^still bosom that there seemed to be a prayer in them there. How often has she stood between U3 and harm; hor the rudest of us softened fceneath the gentle pressure of her faded and tremulous hand 1 From her capacious pocket I that hand was ever withdrawn closed only to ! he opened in our own with the uuts she had ! ^gathered, with the cherries she had plucked, the ;iittle egg she had found, the "turnover" she J had baked, the trinket she had purchased for. us as the product of her spinning, the bless? ing she :had stored for us?the offspring of her heart. . "What treaaures of story fell from those old lips; of good faries and evil; of the old times when she was a girl; but we wondered if ever ?but, then, she couldn't be handsomer or dearer?she was ever little. And then, when we begged her to sing?"Sing us one of the old songs you used to sing to mother, Grandma"? "Children, 1 can't sing," she always said, and mother used to lav her knittingsoftly down and the kitten stopped playing with the yarn on the lloor, and the clock ticked lower in the corner, and the fire died out to a glow, like an old 1 heart that is neither chilled nor dead, and! grandmother sang. To be sure, it would not ?do for the parlor and concert room nowadays, but then it was the old kitchen and the old fashioned grandmother, and the old ballad, in the dear old times, and we can hardly see to write for the memory of them, though it is a handsbreadth to the sunset. Her voice was feeble and wavering, like a fountain just ready to fail, but then how sweet-toned it was, and it became deeper aud stronger, but it could not grow sweeter. What "joy of grief" it was to sit around the fire, all of us except Jane, and we thought we saw her when tne door was opened for a moment by the wind, but we were not afraid, for was it not her old smile she wore ? And how we wept over the woes of the "Babes in the Wood," who laid down side by side in the great solemn shadows, and how glad we felt when the robin red-breasts covered them with leaves, and last of all, when the an? gel took them out of night to day everlasting. We may think what we will of it now, but the song and the story heard around the kitchen fire nave colored the thoughts and the actions of most of us; have given the germs of whatev? er poetry blesses our hearts?whatever of mem? ory blooms in our yesterdays. Attribute whatever we may to the school and the schoolmaster, the rays which make that lit? tle day we call life radiate from the God-swept circle of the hearthstone. Then she sang an old lullaby she sang to mother?her mother sang to her, but she does not sing it through. ' and falters ere it is done. She rests her head I upon her hands, and silence is in the old kitch ( en.* Something glitters down between her fin I gers, and it looks like rain in the soft firelight, j The old grandmother is thinking when she first i heard the song, and of the voice that sang it; when a light-hearted girl she played around that mother's chair, nor saw the shadows of the year to come. Oh, the days that are no more 1 What words unsay, what deeds undo, to set back just this ouce the ancient clock of time! So our little hands were forever clinging to her garments and staying her as if from dying, for long ago she had done living for herself, and lived alone in us. But the old kitchen wants a presence to-day, and the rush-bottomed chair is tenantless. How she used to welcome us when we were grown, and came back once more to the home? stead ! We thought we were men and women, but we were children there; the old-fashioned grandmother was blind in her eyes, but she saw with her heart, as she always did. As the sunlight cast our long shadows through the open door, she felt them as they fell over her form, and looking up dimly, she said: "Edward I know, and Lucy's voice I can hear, but whose is that other? It must be Jane's," for she had almost forgotton the folded hands; "oh, no I not Jane's for she?let me see ?she is waiting for me, isn't she?" and the old grandmother wandered and wept. "It is an? other daughter, grandmother, that Edward has brought tor your blessing," says some one. "Has she blue eyes, my son ? Put her hand in mine, for she is my latest born, the child of my old age. Shall I sing you a song children ?" and she is idly fumbling for a toy, a welcome gift for the children that have come again. One of us (men as we thought were) is weep? ing. She hears the half repressed sobs, and says, as she extends her hand: "Here, my Soor child, rest upon your grandmother's shoul er; she will protect you from harm. Gome, children, sit around the fire again. Shall I sing you a song or tell you a story ? Stir the fire, for it is cold; the nights are growing colder." The clock in the corner strikes nine, the bed time of the old days. The song of life was in? deed sung, the story told. It was bed time at last. Good night, a long good night to thee, grandmother. She is no more, and we miss her forever. But we will set up a tablet in cur heart, and write on it only this: "Sacred Co the memory of the Old Fashioned Grandmother. God bless her forever." Certain Way to Preserve Sheep from Dogs. A correspondent of the Atlanta Constitution, writing from Louisville, Kentucky, says: While traveling in South America, I was amused with what I heard of the shepherd dogs of the country. It is a common thing to meet a large flock of sheep, guarded by one or two dogs, at the distance of some miles from any house or man. I often wondered how so firm a friendship had been established. The method of education consists in separating the puppy, while very young, from the mother, and in accustoming it to its future companions. A ewe is held three or four times a day for the little thing to suck, and a nest of wool is made for it in the sheep pen?at no time is it allow? ed to associate with other dogs, or with the children of the family. The puppy is, how? ever, generally castrated?so that when grown up, it can scarcely have any feelings in com? mon with the rest of its kind. From this ed? ucation it has no wish to leave the flock, and just as another dog will defend its master (man,) so it will these, the sheep. It is amusing to observe, when approaching a flock, how the dog, immediately advances barking, and the sheep all close in the rear, as if round the oldest ram. These dogs are easily taught to bring home the flock, at a certain hour in the evening. Their most troublesome fault, when young, is their desire of playing with the sheep?for in their sport they some? times gallop their poor subjects most unmerci? fully. The shepherd dog comes to the house every day for some meat, and as soon as it is given him, he skulks away as if ashamed of imself. On these occasions the house dogs are very tyrannical, and the least of them will attack ana pursue the stranger. The minute, however, the latter has reached the flock, he turns around and begins to bark, and then all the house dogs take to their heels. In a simi? lar manner, a whole pack of the hungry wild dogs will scarcely ever (and I was told by some never) venture to attack a flock guarded by one of these faithful shepherds. It appears to me a currious instance of the pliability of the affections in the dog, and yet wild or however educated, he has a feeling of respect or fear for those that are fulfilling their instincts of association. For we can understand on no principle, the wild dogs being driven away by the single one with its flock, except that they consider, from confused notion, that the one thus associated gains power as if in company with its own kind. It has been observed that all animals that readily enter into domestica? tion, consider man as a member, of their own society, and thus fulfill their instinct of asso? ciation. In the above case the shepherd dog ranks the sheep as?its fellow-brethren, and thus gains confidence, and the wild dogs, though knowing that the individual sheep are not dogs, but are good to eat, yet partly consent to this view when seeing them in a flock with a shepherd dog at their head. Is it not worth while to try this experiment of these shepherd dogs in this country ? There is no reason why it should not succeed here as in South America. A dog is a dog, wherever you find him; and educated and trained, as above, there would be no need of dog laws. Scotland also has found out the worth of Bhepherd dogs. Let our farmers think of this. It's never too late to learn! I ? "John, I am afraid vou have been for? getting me," said a bright-eyed girl to her sweetheart the other day. "Yes, Sue, 1 have been for-getting you these two years." ? Silk handkerchiefs with white centres aud colored borders are worn by nobby youths; school boys, however, will stick to j the primitive coat sleeve. Cotton Turned into Silk?A Wonderful Story if Trne. A few weeks ago there arrived in this city from New Orleans a dapper little Frenchman named Paul Magner, accompanied by a Ger? man friend of riper years, a Dr. Edward Kuneman. The former had been a practising chemist in New Orleans, and claimed to be the discoverer of a wonderful process by which flax or cotton fibre could be converted into silk, or into a texture so nearly like silk as to defy all ordinary inspections and tests. The results of this process?of which the Frenchman alone had the secret?had already been exhibited by samples to a limited circle of manufacturers and experts at the South. So thorough and deceptive was the change which it accomplished that the majority of such persons could only imagine a fraud. They smiled with incredulity at the assump? tion that the specimens submitted to them by the Frenchman were other than genuine silk, which, they insisted, he must have substituted adroitly for the flax and cotton yarns that he professed to have transformed. But Paul Mag? ner was a chemist of some reputation. He claimed that he had devoted long, patient months to the analysis of the various fibres. In the cocoon of the silkworm he had identi? fied certain elements which were wanting in the fibers of the flax and cotto'n plants. These elements chemically obtained, he claimed to I be able to apply to the latter products in such manner they should be converted into an arti? cle which must be regarded as silk in all that the name implies. Parcels of cotton and flax yarns, accurately weighed, distinctively mark? ed and otherwise identified, have been passed into his laboratory by the dozen, and within fifty minutes he had returned corresponding ones of lustrous silk! The latter had even been analyzed by expert chemists, and certified not to be real silk, but to be veritable cotton and flax yarns aforesaid. the inventor comes to new york. A few persons were accordingly led to be? lieve in M. Magner and his process. Among others was a New Orleans agent of Messrs. Seligman & Co., bankers of this city. The chemist had applied for a patent at Wash? ington, and in several European countries to protect his process, but he had no capital wherewith to work it. An arrangement was made with him on behalf of this firm that he should come on to New York to develop his f>rocess, that they would supply him with pre iminary funds, and that so soon as he could convince them that the manufacture was prac? ticable on an extended scale an ample amount of capital would be forthcoming to take a part? nership in his invention, or to purchase the right of using it within *a determined area. The Dr. Kuneman referred to was a personal friend of Magner's, one who had assisted him in New Orleans, and whom he brought with him as an associate in his ambitious projects. Meanwhile, tidings of the discovery and dis? coverer had reached Messrs. Prall Brothers, silk manufacturers at Patterson, N. J., whose New York warerooms are at No. 66 Greene street. Edwin T. Prall sought out Monsieur Magner, anxious to be informed of his remark? able discovery. He found him as he told the writer yesterday, to be an accomplished, well read gentleman, apparently acting in good faith, and utterly absorbed in the possibilities of his discovery. If anything, he was too en? thusiastic, too rapt, and was consequently ner? vous and excitable to a degree. With a French? man and an inventor, however, this was per? haps natural; and so it was arranged that he could have the use of Messrs. PralPa silk fac? tory at Patterson?there to perfect and simplify his methods, and there to begin the new man? ufacture. The Frenchman was to have the use of machinery and power. The manufac? turers expected to be his agents for the sale of j the goods, and the Seligmans, as already stated, were to advance the capital as "special" part? ners, or, as was determined later, a joint stock company, was to be formed, with a proportion? ate interest to each. "there's millions in it." The mercurial and sanguine inventor was soon busied in the construction of retorts and apparatus of various kinds. In these labors he was assisted by his friend, Dr. Kuneman. Monday week both made their appearance in Patterson?the former accompanied by a lady as his wife, and a pretty little girl, their daughter. The whole party put up at the Hamilton House. The Frenchman began to be very busy at the Prall's mills, in overalls and shirtsleeves, manufacturing his chemicals. A quantity of the latter, prepared for the transmutation of cotton, flax, etc., into silk, was soon in readiness. A small parcel of flax yarn was operated on ; woven into ribbon by Prall's machinery; came out as glossy as the purest silk. All "concerned were in ecstacies. "There's millions in it," was the unanimous cry, and it was thereupon baptized, and was to be known in commerce by the name of soiene. mysterious disappearance of the inven? tor. But now comes a most singular story from Patterson. Wednesday of last week the Frenchman suddenly disappeared. The doc? tor could not account for his absence. Mad? ame and her little daughter seemed to take the matter tranquilly. The Pralls were mystified. Soon aftor his disappearance the proprietor of the hotel received a telegram from Seligman, asking him to advise him when the lady should leave. This she did Friday last, since which time nothing has been heard either of herself! or talented husband. Edwin Prall says he has learned of her departure for Europe, possibly prearranged with the mysterious chemist. The doctor is still in New York, and professes to be in a terrible quandary at the desertion of | his friend. He had left, he says, a lucrative practice in New Orleans to found his fortunes in the silken bonanza. Mr. Prall still main? tains perfect faith in the Frenchman's process and the iniegrity of the man himself. Ho thinks that the latter was worried and over? wrought, perhaps became entirely crazy, and fled to Europe to escape imaginary evilH. A box of ribbons, woven from common flax yarn, but brilliant as from the looms of Lyons, re? mains at Mr. Prall's offioo to testify to what might have been.?New York World. . ? A Nevada woman recently knocked down seven burglars, one after an other. Her hus? band watched her from the top of the stairs, and felt so brimful of battle that he couldn't cool off until he had jerked his eight year old boy out of bed and whaled him soundly for not getting up and helping his mother. ? When the odor of ^flowers is unusually perceptible rain may be anticipated, as the air, when damp, conveys the odor more effect? ively than when dry. Damp air being also a better conductor of sound than dry air, bells, the sound of mills, and .railways, are better heard after rain. ? An Indian came to a certain agent in the Northern part of .Iowa to procure some whis? key lor a young warrior who had been bitten by a rattlesnake. "Four quarts?" repeated the agent, with surprise; "as much as that?" "Yes," replied the Indian, "fourquarts?snake very big." Tunnels. From the earliest ages, the practice of tun? nelling, or boring into the earth in caves, has had wide prevalence. Making tunnels has a modern look, but was just as much in use in ancient as in modern times, although the tun? nels were by no means so capacious then as now, nor were they for the same purpose. The first habitations, as well as the first temples of men, were in caves in the ground. The an? cient Etrurians were famed for their skill in tunnelling under craggy places, and the Ro? mans learned from them the same art. The catacombs of Egypt were homes not only for the dead, but also of the living?large numbers of the poorest classes passing their lives there and being laid away in their own chambers to sleep forever. The Etruscans were celebrated tunnelers, and a remnant of their work still remains. It is an almost closed up tunnel at the lake of Castello, and was dug 300 years B. C. In a later age, Claudius Caesar had a passage dug from the river Casigliano and the lake Fucinus, a dis? tance of three miles. This tunnel has been lately repaired by the Neapolitan government, and is still in excellent working order. ^ In the middle ages, tunneling was almost en? tirely disused. Acknowledging no necessity for tunnels, of course none were constructed. It has been reserved for strictly modern times to revive and bring nearer to perfection this branch of engineering. There are at present about 80 miles of tun? nel in England, the longest being 5,500 yards. The longest in France is 13,000 yards. The English distanced all competition in this when they built the Thames tunnel. The idea of this first originated in 1798. In 1804 a passage five feet high and three feet wide was carried nearly across, when the river broke in and spoiled the experiment. In 1826, Mr. Brunneil again attempted the underground passage, but in 1827 the water broke in, and again in 1828, the last time drowning six men, and stopping the work for seven years. In 1835, it was re? sumed and continued until completion. It is a quarter of a mile long, sixteen feet below the bed of the river, has two arched ways, each six? teen feet high by fourteen wide, and cost ?500, 000. In 1869, another tunnel under the Thames was finished at Tower Hill at a cost of ?20,000. Together with these, London has some four miles of tunneling for her subterra? nean railroad tracks, and will probably, ere long, have many more. One of the greatest tunnel projects of mod? ern times is the Mont Cenis tunnel. This was projected in 1841, and was finished in 1871, af? ter 14 years of arduous labor. It is eight miles long and cost untold millions. In our own country the necessities of travel and trafic have demanded a great many tunnels. We remem? ber on the B. & O. R. R., passing through thir? ty-three tunnels in one day. On the way from Chattanooga to Nashville there are some very long and profoundly dark tunnels. The mammoth project of modern times is now being vigorously discussed in English and French reviews?no less a feat, indeed, than the tunneling of the strait between Dover and Calais. For many years some plan of intimate? ly connecting Fi?n.:c and England, has been much talked of by both nations. Bridges were proposed, moles were projected, tubes of cast iron were thought of, but the principal idea now is the tunnel under the sea. A bill has been presented and passed the Assembly for the construction of this tunnel. Two large com Kanies, one English and the other French, have een formed for the prosecution of the work. Each company is composed of two sections? one of capitalists, the other of practical engin? eers. Each company is to work on its own capital, the French having 2,000,000 francs, the English ?80,000. Shafts will have to be sunk to the depth of more than 400 feet since the bed of the strait is of a dangerous, chalky material not to be trust? ed in a great work like this. It is expected that the work could be finished in three years at a cost of ?5,000,000 sterling. The French are highly interested in the scheme, since their country lies in the tract of the great railway which is yet to connect England and India. The Coming Age. We may say, by way of introduction to the following article, for which we are ignorantly unable to give due credit, having found it afloat among our exchanges, that the saying of the "speaker" alluded to, is, as the writer of the article seems not to know, founded upon a fact. That fact was often discoursed upon by a now dead friend, philosopher aud scholar, and is the magnetic current which girdles the earth, diagonally, or, as fashion might frame the phraseology of it, "on the bias," aud which may yet be made available for telegraphic com? munication, without the intervention of over? land wires or ocean cables : "A well known speaker said in a recent speech that the time was coming when we might communicate instantly with San Fran? cisco without wire or operator. The audience laughed at him. Perhaps his statement is not so extravagant as it seems. Had the ordinary work now done by the ordinary telegraph been predicted forty years ago, it would have been received with the same incredulity. The truth is that science, like politics and love, always develops in unexpected directions. Modern science is a paradox. Water, which was al? ways considered the most incombustible matter in nature, produces the greatest heat known. Watch springs burn like pitch. The chemist prepares delicate musliu, so that it can be cleaused by fire. Arsenic is prescribed for dangerous diseases. Frozen feet arc saved by plunging them into snow. Children are told to keep away from iron during a thunder? storm, yet hardware stores are never struck by lightning. Persons suffering from hydropho? bia go into convulsions at the sight of water. A French physician has, however, cured fifty cases of this malady with hot baths. An edi? tor of a New York newspaper lost his sight, until a surgeon put a knife into his eyeballs, whereupon the raau recovered and went about his work. The wildest imagination is unable to predict the discoveries ol the future. For all we know, families in the next century may pump fuel from the river, and illuminate their houses with ice and electricity. Iron vessels, properly magnetized, may sail through the air like balloons. An intelligent farmer turn the soil of a thousand acres in a day. American grain may be shot into Liverpool and Calcutta through iron pipes laid under the sea. By means of condensed air and cold vapor en? gines, oxcursion parties may travel along the floor of the ocean, sailing past ancient^ wrecks and mountains of coral. In those comihgdays our present mode of telegraphy will be classed with the wooden ploughs of Egypt, and the people will look back to steamships and loco? motives as we do now look back to sail-boats and stage coaches." ? A Frenchman having heard the phrase "I've got other fish to fry,, very readily learned its application. One eveuing after escorting a young lady home, and being invited to walk in, he thought of the above expression, and excused himself by saying: "I tank you, j mum , I must go cook some fish.'' Economy and Iudustry of the French. Editors Chronicle and Sentinel: Your paper of the 28th inst. contained a long and most valuable letter, from Mr. Hugh McCullock to the editor of the Tribune, from which I have cut some extracts, which might well be studied until known by heart by every American citizen. Read, mark and inwardly digest. The only reason for mutilation is to condense the essence. He says : Many causes may be assigned for the wealth which France has been found to possess in all great emergencies, among which are the fol? lowing : The French people are an eminently eco? nomical and thrifty people. A French family can live, and live well, on less than would be considered sufficient to save from starva? tion an American family of the same number. An intelligent Bostonian, who had spent some years in France, said to me last summer, in speaking of the economical habits and skill in cookery of the French people, that "a French village of a thousand inhabitants could be supported luxuriously on the wastes of one of our large American hotels." The remark was not far from the truth. If the art of cook? ery was understood and practiced in the Uni? ted States as it is in France; if our people knew as well how to make the most of their provisions as the French do, the cost of living, as far as food is regarded, in most of the States would be reduced more than 40 per cent. Do? mestic economy, as a rule, is neither practiced nor understood by Americans, as it is in France. It may not be too much to say that the entire population of France could be supported on food which is litterally wasted in the United States. The number of people who live be? yond their incomes is less, and the number of those whose incomes exceed their expenditures is greater in France, in proportion to popula? tion, than in any other country. Then, again, the French are beyond all oth? ers a hoarding people. There are few artisans in the cities or peasants in the agricultural districts who do not keep a reserve of coin in their own custody. There has always been more gold hoarded in France than in all other European countries combined. France has a fine climate and an excellent soil, and her lands, which have been cultivated for centuries, instead of being exhausted by a vicious system of husbandry, or yielding less than formerly by unskillful tillage, as is un? fortunately the case in many parts of the Uni? ted States, are now more productive than they ever were before, while the division into small ownerships?the result of the French Jaw of inheritance?increases every year the acreage under cultivation. Notwithstanding her large population to be fed upon what her soil produ? ces?a population of some 35,000,000 upon a territory much smaller than Texas?she is a large exporter of various kinds of agricultural products. As a purely agricultural country, she is undoubtedly the first in Europe; in manufactures, second only to Great Britian. But notwithstanding the economy, the indus? try, the skill, the general thrift of her people, and her great agricultural resources, together with the accumulations of former years, France would not have been able to pay the indemnity exacted by Germany, and to recover, as she has done, from the disastrous effects of the war, had not the management of her finances and revenue been confind to the hands of able, experienced and upright men, and had not her own people and the capitalists of other nations relied implicitly upon her good faith. French statesmen have not been notable examples of political wisdom or conservatism, nor have the French people been especially trustworthy ou questions of government; but no country has been more favored in the possession of really able financiers and political economists. A Malthusian Calculation.?A econom? ic journal enters into a curious calculation as to the actual cost, in dollars and cents, which a man or woman would be to the world and society by the time he or she got old enough to "pay expenses," or return back to the country what thus far has been expended in rearing the population. Every baby, it is fair to assume, when prop? erly brought up, costs its pareuts at least fifty dollars a year, an expense which increases largely as food, clothing, the shelter of a warm home, education, and spending money, are re? quired for the growing child. The actual cost up to the fifteenth year, of each child in this republic, is certainly not less than a thousand dollars. At that age its labor would be worth its subsistence. Not till it reaches the age of eighteen (and a great many not even then) "does it really begin to be productive. For every 100,000 children, the nation has to pro? duce six or eight millions of dollars, consumed without adding at all to production. To rear that number of children to a productive age certainly costs a hundred millions of dollars without any profit, whatever, in return. Here? in is the great value of immigration^ This, great republic receives into its broad and glo? rious bosom every day not less than one thou? sand emigrants from "the old world. Of course, two-thirds, perhaps soven-eights, are adults, already grown for us by Europe, at her cost, up to the productive point, when they come to our shores to give us the benfit of their toil. An? nually does Europe labor industriously to pro? duce and raise for our republic, free of cost, more than 300,000 persons, who we could not have furnished ourselves at an expense of $300,000,000. No wonder that we grow rich and prosper, for the loss of the world is our gain, and all countries are nursing-mothers for us. How to Put Down Matting.?As the summer is approaching, and the time of mat? ting draws near, it may be well to call the at? tention of house keepers to the fact that, as there is a right way of doing everything, there is decidedly a right way to put down Canton matting. It is the almost universal practice to put it down wrong. Most persons cut the lengths, and then, laying the breadths iu their proper places on the floor, proceed to drivo a vast number of tacks up and down the edges. This method serves the purpose of keeping the covering very tightly on the floor, but it in? jures the hoards and ruins the mattings. Ev? ery tack breaks ouc straw, and perhaps more. These Canton mattings are made on boats, where they are woven in short pieces about two vards loug. These short pieces are afterward joined together on the shore in lengths of about forty yards. It is easy to sec where these two yard pieces are joined, and the first thing to be done after the matting is cut in the proper lengths, is to sew these places across and across on the wrong side, to keep the joints from opening. Then sew the breadths together, and tack it to the Moor in the same manner that | you treat a carpet. Mattings made in this way will last fully twice as long as where they are tacked in every breadth. A good matting should last six or seven years. ? "Everything goes wrong," says an Illinois farmer, wiping his eyes. "The grasshoppers cum, the hired man broke his leg, wife died, the barn burnt, and I've iid for three days and can't find a woman who wauts to marry.." Japan. Japan has proved an apt pupil since she opened seven doors to the civilized world in 1854. It is but recently that the Emperor was too sacred a person to be seen by his subjects, even of the highest rank; now he goes about openly with but few attendants, and there is no compulsion upon the people to kneel while he is passing. The secret of the change?which has resulted in a remodelled judiciary system, a revolution in the mode of warfare, and the organization of a navy, construction of a rail? road, laying of a telegraph, erection of light? houses, establishment of several daily news? papers and publication houses, with academies or colleges for higher education, and with com? mon schools all over the country, the introduc- ? tion of the decimal system of coinage and a postal system, with the abolition of caste?is to be found in the fact that the Japanese have suppressed two-thirds of the Buddhist temples, severed all State connections with either Buddhism or Sintooism, and promulgated a new creed, which is all that is required of the people, viz., to fear God, honor the Emperor, and love their country, obey the laws of nature, and discharge the relative duties. The custom houses and all public offices are closed on the Sabbath, and the edict against Christianity has begun to be removed from many places where it has long been in force. In a word, Japan is now one of the most hopeful fields for Chris? tian efforts in the world. As a-proof that idolatry is shaken to its foun? dations, it is said that the beautiful temples, which are thickly scattered over the land, are little cared jOi, and ?re rapidly going to decay. A missionary remarks that, during his many visits to these places of worship, he had seen and heard much to make him believe that the religion of Japan is fast losing its hold on the hearts of the people, and that they are wil? ling, as soon as the government encourages the step, to give up the old for a new and better faith. An educated Japanese was lately admitted to the Church at Yeddo, who bids fair to be a useful laborer among his countrymen. Ten were also added to the Church at Yokohama, and the service on the occasion was one of deep interest. Others applied, but their cases were deferred. At Osaka, a daily Bible ser? vice is held every evening, at five o'clock, and the average attendance in the hot season is more than twenty. The native Christians con? duct there services two evenings evc> week. One, a recent convert at Yeddo, only nineteen years of age, is modest, wise, self-possessed, and wonderfully capable as a preacher. A very interesting tour has lately been made by two Christian women, accompanied by a native female convert and a'male assistant. Their quarters were daily crowded with earnest list? eners, most of them mothers, to whom the sto? ry of the Cross was told again and again. This was the most interesting feature of the tour. 'Boston Women Scandalized?Do Boston women chew tobacco? That's the question. Kev. Mr. Latbrop has declared it a fact before the Women's Temperance Union of that city. He not only makes this charge, but, generali? zing a little, claims that he can get ten men to leave off chewing where he cau induce one wo? man to say she will never more use "fine cut" or "sweet navy." Can such things be ? The use of the weed by women in certain sections of the country is an old story. But to think that a clergyman, whose opinions are entitled to the utmost consideration, should feel it his bounden duty to publicly remonstrate with the female world of Boston for its indulgence in the habit that has heretofore been deemed one of the blessed vicious privileges of male human? ity exclusively. His statements seem to be made in a manner which indicates that he has accurate knowledge of certain cases. The Globe says: "In times pastTjealous New York, fuming Chicago, and ever quiet and demure I'hilapelphia have hinted that the average Boston young lady affected eye-glasses as a gentle'stimulant for her optics, and was a trifle cool and high-toned as to style, and, not long ago, Boston ladies were accused by some an? onymous correspondent of frequently indulging in too much wine; but we have never heard of any such awful charge as this before." It is pretty rough, surely. If the thing were told upon any other city than Boston it would not so much matter. But the idea that, in the very hub of the universe, the dreadful example should be set the world at large, is harrowing to husbands and lovers. Hereafter, young man, mind your girl's eye-teeth for nicotine discolor? ation. They do say that Washington belles brighten their eyes and prevent their gayety from flagging by champagne tippling, but that is as nothing to this Boston scandal.?Courier' Joumal. Nervo us Children.?Nervous children 3uffer untold agonies from fear when put to bed alone. No tongue can tell the horrors of a lonely room to such children. A little, del? icate boy, whom his parents were drilling to sleep alone, used to scream violently every night, and his father would come and whip him. He mistook the pertinacity for obstina? cy, and thought it his duty to conquer the child's will. One night he said, "Why do you always scream so, when vou kuow you shall be punished ?" "0, father, rather!" said the little fellow, "I don't mind your whipping me, if you'll only stay with me." That father's eyes were opened from that moment. He taw that a human being cannot be governed by dead rules, like a plant or an animal. A little skill and a little insight into the na? ture of a child will prevent grievous mistakes in managing them. The sense of loneliness which many young children feel on going to bed alone can be easily prevented, by putting the doll or other favorite plaything on the pil? low or in the hand for company. We knew one little two-year-old who could be composed to sleep only by having a dilapitated book that he was fond of placed under the pillow. Chil? dren who are too old to feel a seuse of protec? tion from such things are helped to go to sleep quietly by a lively play with the mother at the time of going to bed, by the little hymn or prayer, the oft-repeated kiss, the pleasant sto? ry of something to be enjoyed the next day. Lively, bright, loviug thoughts and associa? tions connected with the hour aud place of going to bed are the cure for nervous children. It is a great mistake to a;;k them if they are afraid, or tell them there is nothing to be afraid of, or to suggest the subject of fear in any way. ? A Chicago husband, three weeks mar? ried, has sued for a divorce, on the ground that his wife has an early-rising mania? that she insists upon getting up every morn? ing at 4 o'clock, and as soon as she is dres? sed stirs him up with the broomstick until he follows her example. ? A gentleman said to his gardener: "George, the lime will come when a man will be able to carry the manure of an acre of land in one of his waistcoat pockets." To which the gardener replied: "I believe it, sir; but he will be able to carry all the crop in the other pocket."