Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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P^nflUK^^i!1 '! ^ . r^yregg? /c?OT-re?y ..- > - -7 ? ^ , , p^ _ jy- *-- ,^. , t^r>"Vl>..- - U JU-^- ?^? ^gg ?? ?? ; __ ?' ? ' J ' 7 " - ~ ?., , - V.~*- - 3 VOLUME XV. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, TUESDAY MORNlN^OCTQBER 21,1854. NUMBER43. __'___! * .. ; ^ ' ^ . _ ' '? -' " ' v ' T*- *? - ^ 5 ~ ^^^=8*. PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY THOMAS J. WARREN. - - TERMS. Two Dollars if paid in advance; Two Dollars and , ^ Fifty Cents if payment be delayed three months, and ??p.^?hJKe Dpllara if uot paid till the expiration of the year. AjMy^fiVBRTISEMENTS will be inserted at the fol' For.one Sqhare, (fourteen lines or less,) ^Xi^MgreRtj-hve cents for the first, and thirty-seven and a ; half cents for each subsequent iusertion. Single ind^sertions, one dollar per square; semi-monthly, monthiJ* . wlw.v??J ? ? J ?/*?^tn /tknwvrvrl i lift OOTYIO QO 4IUU lrUt iy OUYOi llfiCUiOUM tuoiguu iiiu CK4IUV v?w -Kirfqr ajjingle insertion. * 'jy'.-Tbo number of insertions desired must be noted . bnS^axargin of all^advertisements, or tbey will be publ^ed.uutil ordered discontinued and charged ac''MisMnnraus. j?.' - - ~ '^trsL ' v Brief Sketch of Mr. Calhoun. x ?*&? Anything which relates to the early life of one so yv % , justly distinguished, as our departed statesman wa.* will be read with interest. The following brief sketch '. has been furnished the Abbeville Banner by Mr. A. Bowie, in the form of a letter, from Ben Lomand, TaladegaCounty, Alabama: Dh. J. H. Logan:?Dear Sir:?I received - youre of'the 7th instant, a few days ago.? Having beetf a warm friend and ardent admirer of Mr. Calboun, I take pleasure in answer -... ing yonr inquiries concerning his early life, as kr ac f'*m ?hlp_ Ffe was seven vears niv se- I Ml. """ " "" " v / */ ^ntor, and of course I was but .1 boy when he attained to the age of manhood. I first knew ^r^-hiavin tbe year 1801, when we were, for a few months, schoolfellows in the Academy then ^2* taught by the late Dr. Waddel, in Vienna.? Jjgfc Bjr. Calhoun soqn after this time entered Yale ^College, and my education having only just SSI begun, 1 saw nothing of him until I commenced ! J&the study of law in the summer of 1810.? At this time Mr. C. was practicing law at AbHbfgtlle Court House, the late Governor Noble 'ii*r being his partuer,. Thoy occupied, as an of^jlrrfice. the house in which Governor Noble after wards lived till his deatn. Alter i Knew mm as a lawyer, Mr. C. always boarded at the h<>' tel known as "'The Red House" ana now ocv.*r cupied by the McLaren family. During a part, /. - vif not all the time he boarded there the hotel * was kept by George Whitefield. The business ofythe Court was, at that time divided pretty equally between the three offices?Calh<>un dt Noble's, B. 0. Yancey's and my brother Ge>?rge Bowie? There were at this time six or eight stndents in these offices, viz: Capt Robeit Cunningham, of Laurens District, and Nathaniel A.QWare, in Calhoun and Noble's, VVil on Birk, of Georgia, J. T. Whitefield ami C. C. t Yancey, in Mr. Yancey's, and the la'e Chief v>Justice of Alabama, Abner S. Lipscomb and myself in my brother's office. >Mr. C. was always kind and familiar with ]jjL young men, and ever ready to advance them ^ by'his counsels and instructions. It was our v constant habit to assemble in the summer eve ? ' . /i.IL > I j,;p -*. nipgs ui mr. mainour) s piazza uuu hmcu h? mo conversation, in which his partner and Mr. Yance^andj^oq^eliyjjes th^oJiier j?t yden taj)ar.. ticipated."' In this way he delighted to instruct his young friends, and I believe we all profited ^ greatly by such occasions* At this period of jiis life, and I believe ever afterwards, Mr. CalTioun was in tbehabit of taking much exercise, and always on foot. His customary walk was up tbe Pendleton road, and he seldom turned before be had walked a mile and a half. This exercise was usually taken very early in the ?,; morning, and be ,was generally willing to have one of his young friends as a companion?not to enjoy their conversation, hut to benefft them by hit. I remember, on one occasion, he invited me to accompany hiiu in his morning stroll ?and?and I refer to it now,, not to claim any particular intimacy with so distinguished a man, of which any one might justly be proud, but to record a disciplinary achievement <>f his own,. which struck me at the time as being very wonderful. He was endeavoring to im: press upon my mind the great importance of . cultivating thepower of altenti/m, and to encourage rue in my efforts lie 6tated that to this end he hlia'eariy subjected ftiVinind to such a course d? rigid discipline, and had persisted without faltering, until he had acquired a per feet coi itrol over it, and that he could now con-i-' !??? -is I.A f A finV VIlKlPpt line it sb ivug as uk piu?.^u, .?..j j withofffwandering even for a moment; and that it #?8 his uniform habit, when he set out alone, to walk or ride, to 6elect a subject for reflection, and that he r.ever suffered his attention to wai&er from it until he was Mi'&fied with its examination. In this single achievement is to be found, as I firmly believe, the principal cause of h 8 quiet intellectual tri umph ; this made him the greatest thinker of "4ii? age, a!nd to this achievement are we to attribu^^hia: Wonderfu 1 powers of combination Yon ask me, " when, and on what occasion did be make* bis very first public effort V The first public speech I ever heard him make was OD the occasion of a public, meeting of the citizens of Abbeville, called on the occasion of ;itt?giBfe'wanton att ack of the Leopard on the Chesa peafce. - Oiv'tbifc occasion?he was then a stu dent of-Law ; he "astonished every body, and laid jhe foundation of that enduring popularity in his native district, which he retained to the day of his death. If he had ever before made a public speech; i am not aware of the f^pt.' . You again-ask, "How did the family In its early history spell theiiame ?" Until the time * iMW'SMH I4WVUPJ - of the generation 10 wnicn nr. i^aiuuuu nim* : ^ belonged, the name spelled with an 0 in the day of his death, wrote his name Colhoun. times, it is probable the name was Colqubour ; as I believe it is to this ' me, I afn sure, to attempt a d^HSIktion.V the character, private or publie, of oufc de^rted friend?that has been aone^ NoBO^f loved hirn more?ma : %1JI onlyldd. that he tossed' more equa-1 Tb^ge^ He rat result o?.a life of pons tan taiod uniform virtJ'US, very hastily and imperfectly, ^ f \ si , given you all the information I possess in reference to the enquiries of your letter, I conclude with the high esteem and respect with which J am Your friend, A. BOWIE, ?, r * *?; Correspondence of the Washington Globe. Churches in Florence. What shall I tell;y'ou of Florence?its galleries, festas, quaint'streets, dark old palaces, which might if stones could speak, reveal many dark deedk of the past ? The last days of holy week gave me some new ideas of Italian life, for the Church is everything; even the amusement* of the' gay Florentines depend upon their festas. The Churches of France are, many of them, gorgeous and imposing, but you must see the grand old churches of Italy, before you can form-an idea of the power of the Church at present, as well as in the ages past; such axworld of wealth as they contain within their bid walls'! I love to wander in them' at twilight, and hear the Ave Maria.? The last gleams of day through the painted windows, and the lights of the altars show you hundreds of-kne.eling figures, who iiffer up with earnest, touching voices, ihis evening service, to the " Blessed Lady." There are two Protestant churches here, the church of the English embassy and a French Protestant church, protected and principally supported by the King of Prussia. The service is that of our Presbyterian churches, but even more simple. Nothing has struck me with such interest since I have been in Florence, as the service at this church, and high mass at the Cathedral on the same ntorning. It was a great fete in Florence; "the whole court" was to hear mass in state. Preparations had been making for some days and at an early hour on Sunday morning, the ringing of bells, crowds of people in the streets, passing of soldiers, announced a great fete. I attended the French church first, intending af terwards to go to the Cathedral. 'I his little Protestant house of worship is, though pretty and neat very plain; no aristocratic pews, with luxurious cushions; a neat reading desk and communion table, organ, rows of rush bottom chairs, or plain wooden benches, and you have before you the French Protestant church of Florence?called French because the services are always conducted in that language. The congregation assembled quietly; ladies le\Cton f..Iloivixl hv rheir servants^ filled the benches and chairs. A gentleman seated himself in front of mc. Nothing but his remarkably fine appearance, ami strict attention to the service, distinguished liiui from the others, he having taken the fifst chair that offered. This was the hereditary prince of Prussia, who was visiting the Ducal family of Tuscany. A lady entered who had been pointed out to me at one of the court halls as a niece of the Emperor of Russia, (she is both a belle and a beauty.) followed by a female servant. She seated herself on one of the benches, whilst the pastor's wife, .followed by a broad-faced Swiss servant, with a cap #.# white as snow. took her {dace on a bench near me ; others came, looking what they were, honest, but thrifty and thriving Swiss and Germans. There was no excuse for not joining in the service. Hymn hooks were presented to each person by the sexton. There was a fine organ, but no choir, no long drawn agony of tenor, basso, and soprano, chasing each other in the " Gloria in Excelois." The number tfcf the hymns for the morning were written upon two black boards, hung upon pillars. The books handed by the sexton contained not oul) the words, but the mu sic, and ail were expected to join in tins pari 01 the service. A prayer followed, another hymn, a chapter in the Bible, a r-ermon, and with a prayer and' the blessing, we were dismissed. I hurried to the Duomo, being anxious t" arrive before the ducal cortege An immense crowd filled the streets, whilst the approaches to the church were occupied by mounted troops; on the north side of the piazza was a large body of Austrian soldiers, with thfcjr fine band of jiear 1. one hundred musicians. The vast old Cathedral was already quite full, and a body of gens d'armcs, and the JLJnke's body-guard, in meir gorgeous uniforms, formed a line from the center door to the high altar, whilst the octagon, in itself a chapel, was blazing with silver lamps ".rid colored wax lights. A drum beats in the piazza, a large body of the clergy pass to th?* graiid entrance, and receive the Archbishop ; the soldiers present arms, and the v-'iierable looking prelate approaches through the line of troops, and takes his seat upon an elevated chair covered with a canopy of white and gold. On the opposite side of the octagon are the gilded and crimson velvet chairs of the ducal family; hundreds of chandeliers, thousands of wax lights, with the richest hangings of crimson and yellow silk, with beautiful tapastries, nearly cover the walls of this grand old Duomo. The BNIiop of Florence and Fiesolc, the CAiions of the Cathedral, and an immense body of clergy, fill the stalls of the octagan; the floor is covered with crimson cloth, upon which are placed seats for the ladies and geptlemen of the court. A lady, youngf apd' beautiful, with train of blue and silvern/brocade,headdress of pearls and point, Jat^fswalks up and kneels devoutly upon her.cushiun in the octa?rnm If. hi the vounir MarchesA A.~a'fiWy of O * ' J C7 , ^ w the court; another follows, neither young nor handsome, but richly dressed in brocade and diamonds, some half dutfih little pages in rich uniforms come; tht>ykneel, laogh, talk, pinch, anjd flpsh each other, whilst they are supposed to hg siftying^heir prayers. Look! is this a waiting portrait of Titian?a superb looking i?an in^crimson and .yellow robes, with small .cnms^fajk. or?ap, with white plume; it is the Mayor of Florence, followed by the doctnjfc of'law and medicine in their robes. A slightly'made, graceful, but Jesuitical looking man U/Knm T raannrniin od thn Pnrui'fl M Itnp.in ** ** WMVHI A IVtVglllbV w %MV A VJ?? ? takes a privileged seat in front of me. Austrian and Tuscan officers (not on dot) ) begin to arrive, and take the places prepared- for them. Another drum bents?the ducal family have arrived. The Duke in full uniform; the Duchess in petticoat V white moire antique, with train of pink and silver; head dress of diamonds and feathers, followed by their family and attend. ants, approach the high altar, bow aiid courte sy to the Archbishop and clergy, and take the seats prepared for them. A magnificent band, concealed by the high altar, peals forth a fine mass of Mozart. The host is raised; thousands of kneeling figures bow reverently and the mellow tones of a fine tenor fill the old church with delicious notes. I left before the conclusion of the mass, that I might see the departure of the cortege. The troops had cleared the Piazza and eight gilded carriages,six horses each, with troops of bewigged and bepowdered footmen, were drawn up before the door. The Austrian band was playing?what? Not the national air of Italy? No; the national hymn of Austria. We often sing it most devoutly iu our churches in the United States, little dreaming that we'are singing, "God save the Emperor of Austria." 1 thought of Luther and the early reformers. Whatcourage those men must have had. When we see Rome in her pomp and glory now, what must she have been when kings trembled before her? I wish I could give you some idea of an Italian apartqjnt, which means neither more nor less than one's castle. I am occupying a first floor; on my right is an apartment occupied by I a lady who is preparing for the opera; 011 my left lives a basso?ditto. The lady gives me the scales, exercises, and the music of Verd;? five hours a day. The basso gives about the same, and is great in the Bigotetto. Opposite lives a young girl who aspires to be a fine amateur singer?and, for four hours n day, she gives me a miscellaneous collection of English, German and Italian melodies. Above me is a lady who gives seven hours a day to the piano ? whilst, within my own domicile is a teeting baby, and two children who practice their hours. It is wonderful how one learns from habit to be deaf. Building*, Temples, and Religion of Japan.?A correspondent of the N. York Journal of Commerce, writing from Commodore Perry's squadron, remarks as follows in relation to the religion, temples, die., of the Japanese : "The streets are wide and straight, and the better class of houses two stories high, plastered, and roofed with elegant tiles. The interior is very clean and neat, and the rooms, covered with mats, and separated from each other by i sliding screws, that are closed or removed at J pleasure. There are no chimneys in Japan. J A charcoal fire is built in a little sand pit in ! uu ?r tLo flnnr nrniind which the fami- ! ly are usually found seated 011 their knees, j drinking tea and smoking their pipes. Not a I chair, or any other species of furniture, can be seen. Tubs of water are kept in front of each house as well as on the roofs, in readiness against any fire, for conflagrations are so fj-e quent and extensive that whole towns are sometimes burnt down. The temples, chiefly Budhists, are beautifully situated in the suburbs. The entrance to them leads generally through rows of elegant trees and wild cumelias. They are large plain structures with high uenked roofstresembling the houses pictured on Chinese por^* lain. In the space immediately in front is a large bell for summoning the faithful, a stone reservoir of holy water, and several roughly hewn stone idols. The doorway is ornamented with curious looking dragons, and other ' *T _ .1 animals carvcfl in woou. upon entering, mere j is nothing special about the buildings worth ; noting, the naked sides, exposed rafters having a gloomy appearance. The altar is the only object that attracts attention. It so much resembles the Roman Catholic, that I need not describe it. Some of these idols are so similar to those I have seen in the churches of Italy, that if they were mutually translated, I doubt whether either set of worshippers would discover the change. The priests count heads, shave their heads and wear analogous robes, and the service is attended by the the ringing of bells, the lighting of candles and the burn- j ing of incense. In fact, except that the cross 1 is nowhere to be seen, one could easily imagine , - r>_ nimseir wiiuiu a ivumuu wmunv ^iouo v? worship. # ' Autumn is at Hand. The summer snlsitce has passed. The hot and suffocating atmosphere, which seemed to open every pore of the body, and send from it, in copious streams, such aqueous exhalations, threatening to reduce the corpus to a state of fluidity, has happily vanished away! Wc breathe the revivifying air of the last of September with pleasure. We have bid adieu to summer with a hearty good will?and why should we not? Whut has she done to endear herself to our remembrance ? She has visited us with severe and scorching weather?the like whereof the "oldest inhabitant" has no knowledge ; she has decimated the cities and villages of our country with a fearful scourge, not even saving from its ruthles3 grasp, tho quiet and I oiKa Sit fhn clmrtlipitv nf UIIUUll U^l vu 1(11 IIIGI y UUUj 111 IUV WMIIJ/MV..J his habits and the absence of excitement, does not look for so terrible a visitor; she has taken the young apd the old, the vigorous and the feeble, the poor and the rich, and prostrating them before the power of the ?reat avenger, has laid them where the peer is on a level with the peasant. The scourge would come some, times like a thunderbolt, striking in a hitherto {peaceful village, and with the power of nn ^avenger scatter the inhabitants to the four winds of heaven. Terrible indeed has been the devastation ; and although we have had no ties of love or affection sundered by the grim monster, yet we arc not insensible to the fact that hundreds have been called upon to part with all they hold dear on earth. Families have been broken up?sometimes not one has * ? i-A. * - ? - ?Ubo r\P tko rtrhor mom Deen icio io uiuum tuo iuoo vi wuw w??v> ....? bers. Such has been some of the features which have marked history of the past summer, and which seem "like the footsteps of the 'vengeful god." Other complaints we have against thee, O sumsummer! While spreading sickness and death throughout the land, thou hast withheld the needed rain ; and hence the harvests have been blighted, the springs have boen dried, and man and beast made to suffer. Autumn has its attractions. The city is lively and buoyant.? The tide of travel, which all summer has been setting countryward, now moves in the oppo site direction; and the brunette countenances % of young ladies, who have'romped over thfe rural hills, or danced a glowing veriheij tint <Sn-' their cheeks in the saloons* of Newport and j Saratoga, have returned to us as healthy, if not as happy, as when they left; for if they have not secured that wonderful.prize, a husband, it is presumed they come , back in anything but a good humor. The woods begin to lose their vernal tint?not by the touch of frost, but by the withering hand of the drought. The farmers have housed their wheat, oats and hay, and begin to gather the corn. Soon the russet crown will be the distinctive feature of country life, and the flowers of summer and; fruits of anfiimn will hot.li succumb to the advent of. winter, who will throw his cold and icy mantle over every spot that summer, has perfumed with ! her roses, or autumn made pleasant with her products.? Whole World. ?f? -f The Winter of the Heart.?Let it never come upon you. Live so that good angels may protect you from this terrible evil?the , waiter of the heart. Let-no chilling influence freeze up the foundations of sympathy and happiness in itsdepths; no cold burthen settle $Ver its withered hopes, like snow ou the faded flowers; no rude blasts of discontent moan and shriek through its desolate chambers. (Your life-path may lead you amid trials, tflil/.li fni. i f lino cooiii nt fpi-l v tn imnprta vniir' IVI U V....W wwx,... w.V " I J progress, and shut out the very light of heaven fvom your anxious gaze.' Penury may take the place of ease and plenty; ^our luxurious home rtiay be exchanged for q single, lowly room?the soft couch for the Straw pallet?the rich viands for the coarse fond;'of the poor. Summer friends may -for' sakejyotf, and the un pi tying world pass you by with scarcely a-look or word of compassion. Ybu may be forced to toil wearily, steadily on, to earn a livelihood; you may encounter fraufl and the base avarice which would extort the last farthing, till you well-nigh turn in disgust) from your fellow beings. lleath may sever the dear lies that bind you to eprth, and leave you in fearful darkness.? I- * ? i .1 -ILL. ^ t hai nooie, maniy uoy, ine soie nope 01 your declining years, may he taken from you, while your, spirit clings to him with a wild, tenacity, whiqh even the shadow of the tomb cannot wholly subdue. Bht amid all these sorrows, dp not come to thejconclusion that nobody was ever so deeply afflicted as you are, and abandon every sweet anticipation of "better days' in the unknown future. l)o not lose your faith in human excellence, because your confidence has sometimes been betrayed, nor believe that friendship is only a delusion, and love a bright phantom whieh glides away from your grasp. Do not think that you are fitted to be miserable because you are disappointed in your ex peetations, and battled in your pursuits, uo noHdeclare that God has forsaken you, when your way is hedged about with thorns, or repiije sinfully, when he calls your dear ones to tjfeJand beyond the grave. Keep a holy trust in heaven througfi every trial; bear adversity with fortitude, and look upward in hours of temptation and suffering. When your locks are white, your eyes dim, and your limbs weary; when your steps falter on the verge of Death's gloomy vale, still retain the freshness and buoyancy of spirit which will shield you from the winter of the heart. Olive Branch. Cheerfulness.?Cheerfulness and a festi val spirit fills the soul full of harmony?it composes mu*ic for churches and hearts?it makes and publishes glorifications of God?it produces thankfulness and serves the end of charity; and, when the oil of gladness runs over, it makes bright and tall emissions of light and holy fires, reaching up to a cloud, and making joy round about; and therefore, since it is so innocent, and may be so pious and full of holy advantage, whatsoever can minister to this holy joy does set forward the work of religion and charity. And, indeed, charity itself, which is the vertical top of all religion, is nothing else but a union of joys concentrated in the heart, and reflected from the angles of our life and intercourse. It.is a rejoicing in God, a gladness in our neighbor's good, a pleasure in doing good, a rejoicing with him; and 1 1 - ' -4 -II without love we cannot nave any joy ai an. ?? Work ! Work !?I have seen and heard of people who thought it beneath them to work ? to employ themselves industriously at some useful labor. Beneath them to work! Why work is the great motto of life; and he who accomplishes the most by his industry, is the most distinguished man among his fellows, too. And the man who forgets hisduty to himself, his fellow creatures, and his God?who so far forgets the great blessings of life, as to allow his energies to stagnate in inactivitity and uselessness, had better die: fur, says Holy Writ, "He that will not work, neither shall he eat" An idler, is a cuinbcrer of the ground, a weary curse to himself,as well as to those around him. ? ~ KAtMrtB fn timfLI Wliu u'linf ueiieaiu iiuiiiitu uuuijjo iu num. ?. j, ....... but the continued history that brings forth the improvement that never allows him to be contented with any attainment he may have made, of work that he may have effected, what but this raises man above the brute creation, and, under Providence, surrounds him with comforts, luxuries and refinements; physical, moral and intellectual blessings? The great orator, the great poet, and the great scholar, are great working men. Their vocation is infinitely more laborious that that of the handicraftsman; and the student's life has more anxiety than that of any other man. And all, without the perseverance, the intention to real industry, cannot thrive. Hence the number of mere pretensions to scholarship, or those who have not strength and industry to be-real scholars, but stun half wav. and are smatterers. a shame to the profession. / . Beneath human beings to work! Look in the artist's studio, the poet's garret, where the genius of immortality stands ready to seal his work with an uneffaceable signet, and then You will only see industry stand by his side. ' Beneath burpt^a beings to work! WhjftftP had rather that a ohild of minft should labor regularly at the lowest, meanest employment, than to waste its body, mind and soul, in fouyj< ' - W < >.> -r idleness, ana useiessness., oeuer iu wcai uui in a year, than to-rust ymt in arcentury. Beneath human, beings to work!- Why what 'hiif. wort lias tilled our fields; clothed our bod ies, built our houses, raisedour churches, prihted our books, cultivated our niinds and souls? "Work out your own salvation,"' says'tli&ih* spired Apostle to the Gentiles:; : ~r Preserve tlsc Eye-sight. We often hear it asserted that civilization, notwithstanding its numerous benefits/ has Its counterbalancing disadvantages: nnd/in proof of this, the presumed declino of the moderns, in size, strength) and physical superiority generally, is adduced. Among.other declarations of this kind, the injured eye-sight of civilized persons, especially of those'living iu cities, is Ki?nnrrlif fnru'.or^ vi VKgli? iVi But, if all other descriptions of physical deterioratiori owe their origin, as wo have but little doubt they do, to u revolution of the laws of nature, as is the case in this instance,' then the fault should be laid to tlie charge, hot of a too perfect cml?alion,;l>at of an immature one. For wo think it can be shown incontestib.ly that impaired eye-sight is the consequence of 'excessive or improper use of the eye, either in the victim or in his aritestry. If nil the shortsighted, weak-sighted, and imperfectly sighted persons now alive could be catalogued, and their habits and "those of their progenitors thoroughly studied, it would be found, we boldly affirth, that their defective vision was distinctly traceable to" the ignorance,-carelessness, "or wantoa nbuse of the eye, by themselves' or their forefathers. The most ordinary cause of injured eye-sight is using the eye in an improper Ii'ght:^<Thfe white light of a cloudless day is that designed by nature fur man's use. But this ligh't'must not be too brilliant. Reflected from sandy plains, or from snow, this light produces opthalmia, and reflected from red brick walls.it is also injurious, though in a less degree; while when reflected from green woods or fields; or even from.brown ploughed earth, it is not hurtful atall,asthe experience of every man proves, to say nothing of the superior eyfe-sigbt formers. Nature, by clothing the habitable parts of the earth with verdure, offers to us a guide as to how we should act in this matter. If the light of the day is too brilliant, we should temper it with green. If on the contrary, it is dull, we should increase its powers by the employment of proper colors. But the worst daylight is nearly always better than candlelight, lamplight or gaslight. All artificiaUight is too yel low, and in time will injure the eye. Persons who read or write much at night, must expect to have bad eye sight, for the strongest eyes will succumb at last to the yellow rays ot gas, lump or candle. The morning is the best time to use the eye, both because the light is then generally the best, and because the orb is fresh from the repose of the night. When reading or writing is unavoidable at night, the light should fall across the shoulder, and from the left. To read or write with a 1 amu jjL-fmut^alw.avs_?trains the eve.^ To hold the book close to the eye, or to Belief down close to the paper, tends to produce short-sightedness; and as most professional men, literary men, and even merchants and clerks do this, hcitce their frequent short-sightedness and that of their progeny. The improper employment of glasses is a fertile cause of impaired eye sight. Spectacles, or eye-glasses which are not exactly suitable, are an iujury rather than a benetit. Their ui,e should be put off, moreover, as long as possible. They are liko crutches, which once intioduced, become indispensable ever after. All sudden transitions from light to darkness, or from obscurity to ligbt, are hurtful to the eyes. Small print in reading, or too fine a hand in writing, should be avoided. By observing the laws of nature, the eye-sight can be preserved to a late period of life. But by disregarding these laws, not only adults impair their own eye-sight, but they hand down to their children imperfect vision, and occasionally even total blindness. Wc repeat, that it is not the fault of civilization, but of ourselves, if we have worse eye sight than savage people.?Phil. Ledger. ? ? Revolutionary Anecdote.?A correspondent of the N. H. Patriot furnishes the following : "When the British were at Boston, in 1776, my father was in a barbe/'s shop waiting to be shaved. A British Officer came in and wanted to be shaved, provided the barber could do it without drawing blood, and saying if he did not he would run his sword through him. The barber was frightened and dare not under take the task. A little boy sitting there spoke up and said he would do it. Me looKea at me boy with astonishment, but the boy stripped off his coat and told him to take n seat. He took off the officer's beard without drawing blood, and was paid a guinea for his trouble. The officer then asked how he ventured to do it, as he had been to every harberVshop in town and no one before dared Jo do it. The boy replied, "I thought I should see the blood as soon as you would, and if I had, I would have cut your throat to the back bone in a mo ' ment." The British officer hung down his head and left, amid shouts of applause for the boy." * ? ; Fashion in Names.?Fashion plays some T?-! - fiili Mo ti'onrl Tho hist innnva tjueer iicano mo ...? tion, is we believe, the using of the middle name and dropping the first and 'christian' index. For instance: Jones, who was always distinguished in his younger days by plain John D. or 'Jack,' has concluded that appella tion to be 'vnlgew, and is now only known as J. Daw Jones, more appropriate to be given, in full, and would doubtless be a most correct index to the fellow. Peter G. Jenkinshas become convinced that Peter, is two homely a cognomen for one who walks so high in aristo/>;?,.loo nnrf hrinifri Wm fnn nmi>K nn n VMV.Iti-7, illiu VV^.^JMU^t v.. M level with the commit) herd; he therefore, plumea himself P. Green Jenkins. Just so with Isnac C. Bacon;, all the fellows are urnking the -change an^|? cannot see bow. he can find 'I. 'Cook Bacon' is ^ 'k ^ ' j:, I fjj^ ^iVC is owing to narcotic resin in the hemp plaui^^j called in Asia 'Hocshish.' It has tlie (ject on fish as the 'conicus indicus,'which isT used Lu take them in many places.' "I . "Cattle instead of being killed by it, actual- , ly become fond of drinking the water, and it , is with difficulty they can be kept from the stream, as it causes the same delightful sensa-y';,^ tion that a small amountidbes upon thehunfai^ra system. The resin of the hemp plant is exten- . sively used among Eastern nations to product a pleasant character of intoxication, ns itle^AH no unpleasant results." r Water rotting hemp has been tried in vtKe United States with decided success, andntjbu American hemp so treated, has.proved better in all respects than the Russian. A Confirmed Editor.?Colonel Fuller,! of ^ the New York Mirror, has had a legacy of sid^^H ; two hundred and fifty thousand dolIars. ^ffi^V II11 i I JL I1CI CUpUH ^UC UV?*WII &/WV ho will soon throw off the editorial harnes&ajfl Fuller replies thus : "We predict that this " mortal^. cptl^^pE^^ "the harness" will go off together. Believing M it to be the duty 'of every man to labor the bread ho eats ; , and preferring the'/ediform&wfc vocation to all others, we would not volnntari-;;^^ ly resign our office, were w.e as rich as Astotv V;' Deer Shooting Extiuobdinary.? A, feat* ? which if equalled, perhaps has not led in the .sporting world, was performedJiy^ Mr. Begg (sportsman to Mrs. Power, of-GjjjHM teen,) on the 31st.ultimo. He went Ouifg&jjP the purpose of shooting a huek,; and-.Jiti&8H sent some men into a plantation to beat aboS^^H be lay down in the brushwood at the ejid. -Jin r>2j a few minutes two fine deer came-,Jwun#j2j]|^M out, and after running about one 'hundred- anjhr fifty yards,, ?,they leaped a ditch, atid.'turitf^-^&jj round to take a view ot their disturbers. , Mr. f llegg in-tautly levelled his rifle, and^kcpM^ to , his shoulder, until one of the deer brouirhl hia^Sfi head in a line with the other, bangjwent* the:yf rifle, and down went the deer, both shot-dead.. > , with a single ball, one through the eyeand*wBg l other through the neck. They being-brQwSSy to Gurleen lodge, he proceeded to dn^js^^K coud cover, when perceiving the autl?C|uE0B|i buck above tho underwood, he calculatedyvpiloge the head qught to be, filed. and .th^*iw^^^^,j ccd the noble animal between thefofl the ear. Ot' this we have been- informed*?.y an eye witness, and in wlit?e credibility, mm place tka iifninof oAndrlnnnrt ?- Tirmtrant 'Fret Prett.