The Camden weekly journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1853-1861, July 10, 1855, Image 1
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ynj imff YVT 10. 1855. ' , NUMBEfrjT
. ' - ^ "
TOT DREAM OP HOMB.
Wto har not"felt how sadljr sweet
k The dream of home, the dream of home,
Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, '1
" . When br o'or-sea. or land wo roam ?
I Sunlight jnore soft may o'er ps fall, : " .
To gneher shores our bark may come;
But tar more bright^-more dear than all, ~
That dream of heme, that .dream of home.
" " "**C^ .j, * '
Ask of the sailor youth when fen
BtslightBade bonnds o'er.ocean's foam,
What charms him. moat, when ev'ning's star
Smiles o'er the wavef to drearu_of home. ^ .
Fond thoughts of absent /Heads and loves " v
. At that sweet hour around him come;
Ills heart's best joy where'er he roves, .".
That dream of home, that dream of home. '
,r. . - , .*,
*?. TROTH. x >- - * 'V
i .- '? . -r .
Marble and recording brass decay, ' , f
And like the 'graver'^ memory,, pass away;.' ;
The works of man inherjt,.as is just,. . ..
Their author's frailty, and return to dust;
But Truth divine forever stands secure,
Its bead is guarded, and its base is sure; 4;
Fixed in the rolling flood of endless years'*
The pillar of the eternal plan appears; ?.
The raving storm and dashing wave defies.. .
Built bv that architect .who built the skies.
' r ' * H ' u ' v- . P<npper. '$&
^gMM"^Tl"Tl^TTl^T~*TT"^"""1^*'^'.
jpSttlJOttMIM. ,'
An American Artist in Borne.
We have been accused'of partiality, and extravagant
laudation for the honest opiuions
which we have occasionally published on the
merits of orir countryman. William Pace, the
portrait painter, but nothing that weliave ever
avid of him was so laudatory or extravagant
as the following.remarks which we find in theDecember
number of the London Art Journal;
a publication which is not often guilty of noticing
an American artist at all. Mr. Page is
now at Rome;' ...
* At the risk of being thought guilty of exaggeration,
I declare, after visiting the studio
of Mr. Page, that he is undoubtedly - the best
portrait painter ol modern times. I say this
emphatically, and let those whotloubtit go
there and judge for themselves. I am aware
that the low tone of color pervading his pic
lures is disapproved by some artists, w ho qualify
it by the term blackness,' but this is un
just; his touch is always transparent and har
monious, and his system of coloring borne out
hy the grratest masters. Of his flesh tints it
might be said, as of the Venitian masters of
old?prick it and it will bleed.
Not least a&ong his extraordinary and jnany
perfection's the treatment, the attitude of
inMAMAUIti roloAt inrr qih>Ii rv'iai.
IJ Mi BUUjnjlO | UU ilivui inuij oviuviiu^ u>?v., |/VV.
lions an Titian or Paolo Veronese would have
chosen. -Yet this similarity is spontaneous, and
and wholly free from servile mannerism; but
his brush and his eye are so modulated with
the conceptions of the great matter# he follows,
that the resemblance comes naturally.?
] have visited the best studios'of-Rome, but in
point of color and freatmept Mr. Page may
clinllenge them all. He is truly a ' second
Daniel come to judgment." ..
I eannot describe the gratification I felt while
looking at bis works, for" of alf schools in the
wrorld, I prefer the Venitiah; and I frankly own
I would rather poshes! Titian's " Assumption
of the Virgin" than Raphael's 4 Transfigura* --
" " o? -v. -.or _
lion. ITir. i la Wip n jiuung mow, Hiiu
looks himself, like & Venitian painter. He has
just finished a.bead of Miss Gushman, one of
the most skilfullikenesses of a plain woman I
ever beheld; for he has toned*and. softened
down her defects, and heightened the pleasing
expression of her countenance, without in the
least sacrificing the vitality of the resemblance.
But the picture I especially, noted;-and whichactually
caused me .a thrill-pf delight, as my
eyes rested on it, is a portrait Of Mrs.-Crawford,
wife of the celebrated American sculptor.
Talk of Michael Angelo burying liis Bacchus,
after be bad broken tbearm, to deceive the ignorant,
' make believe very much' it was an
antique;, why this picture,^ after a few. years'
and that PSoIo Veronese or Titiap. were alive
and at werkv :' V- V -^ ' '
" ? fAiilapltf knnni) ill tliO citk. !
11c um 1m7vu poi uvuiqi ?j unp|ij ui biiv ouw- i
ject, which is an extremely handsome woman;
lurgely possessing the rich, ripe, Vehitian type
of beauty. The figure is .partly turned away?
thefsce looking round atabe spectators^' over
the shoulder, giving charming lines in the fine,
foil neck and shoulders. The hair is simply
braided,
Yet Jocks upon the open, brow, - -y? "
Msdonna-wise, divided there.",- r? - *
The whole execution of the head is a model
of color. The^languid, sleepy eyeS turned to"
ward one with just that dreamy, inddlent j?x?
pressioo Titian gives to his Ve/iuses.'I he backf
cTnaulflr? diamondedP- tabes try.
? 'v; -v8 , - j,.-*
in a stiff tesselated pattern, absolutely Byzantine
in its severe rigidity. Such* background
{a a lnuropbant test of the artist's power, for
the truth pf the drawing fs undeniably, pro^td
by tbe&ct that it ad mite of detached object
in the immediate ^.vicinity' of the figere being
accurately n^'d? ocli without' deteriorating or'
confusing the principal object. Tbid Was tfip
' case-with Holbein and all the severe Dutch
master* *'**: -9 '
I could not botJnstHutjp a rinsing cortipsri-"
son between the p^61iar and almost aymmetrical
accaraey w this treatment, ^ the practice
of modern ^painters* shch as Beynold^
Lawrence; Hoppswr end' Komney, >bo -all,
more or lett, indul^d id Uie
aicaaetbeyoften trere, they
duce an/ aewnt/jn tfeir' b^kgroopd^f Jgy
' in*, m they often did, id cloee lmiUtlop add
!. ..-it/'.ffkA.
tfUto 19 we prwciw viywft
eto*?l r??urty,oftw;jnd?K^rtaImo9jcb%.
:&?s?s.kk
Is erideoc? of iftiftic triik Maswg of shadow
sad half tint C0n##flMy occtfy ToJf$d ng, so to
9
m * , .
saj,1ti gleams and electric, touches of light'
plscecTifwjuxtflpositioD.with the principal mass
of dark. In the> treatment of Page, tfs in Titian,
and all the masters of that elevated school,
there is both simplicity and' breadth, dignity
and earnestness, in the execution;-. v .
. ,, *.? **' 3
.;Fat Msk.?There is something cordial about
a fat man.. Everybody likes him, and He likes
everybody- Your lsbmaelitee "are, in truth, a
, bare boned race; a lank tribe they are, skeleton
and bile. Food does a fat hian good; it cli'ngv to
.bim; it fructifies on him; he swells nobly out
and fills a generous space in life. He is "a living,
..walking minister of gratitude to the earth, and
the fulness thereof, an incarnate' testimony
against the vanities of care; v radiant manifestation
of the wisdom of good humor. A fat man,
therefore, almost in virtue of being a fat mat), is
a i. A*.
^r/ a pvpuini man auu wimiuvuij iic utserves
his popularity. In a crowded vehicle, the
fatter man will ever be the roost ready io make
room. Indeed he seems to be half sorry for his
size, lest it be in the way of others; but others
would Siot have hiin less than he is, for his humanity
is usually commensurate with his bulk-.
A. fat man has abundance of rich juices. The
Hinges of his system are well oiled,, the; springs
of his being are noiseless, and'so he goes on his
way rejoicing, in full contentment and placidity.
,1 7* ^ ^ ?_ I _ i M .1 11.1.
a iac man leeis n? posiuon oom in tne woria; ne
knows that his being is is cognizable; he knows
that he has a marked^ place in the' universe,
and that he need take no extra pains to-advertise
mankind that he is among them; he knows that
heisMj no danger of being overlooked^ It
does realy take a. deal of wrong to make one
really hate a fatina^n; and if we are not always
fis enrrlinl to a thin man ns we tthrmhl lie Chris.
tian chanty should take into account the force
qf prej udice which we have to overcome against
his thinness. A fat man is nearest to that most
perfect, of figures, a matbaraatical sphere; a thin
man to that most limited of conceivable di- inefisions,
a simple line. A fat man is a being of
harmonious volume, and holds relations to the
material universe in every direction, a.thin .man
has nothing but length; a thin man, in fact is
but the continuation of a point.?Lectures of
Hehry Gtltt. ' j>
. * ?f- ?
- Chauitt at home.?Don't ^o to China to
prove your benevolence. That is like going to
the mouth of a-tiver to float up. It you don't
love your wife you should not possess too much
love for the antipodes, If it is your nature to
allow some family folly to sever your nature towards
your friends around the hearthstone, we
beg-you to dispose of your stock in the wholesale
beneficence business and go into the retail
market, You are not the man to send flannel
to the little heathens in ^ie land of palms beyond
the sea. * Begin at home?with those whom
God has given you for your nearest and dearest
friends. Believe that those with whom you
associate are those you should bless and make
happy. - Study how you can make those" around
you happy. If it be a dollar, advice, a smile, a
tiivor_ a kind word, a pressure of the hand or
chastisement, give it and give it freely. Remember,
that the happiness of this world is like
a mountain of golden sand made up by the contributed
particles of those who dwell on the
earth, and that it is your duty to cast a golden
atom on the glittering mountain each moment
of your life. In this way the mountain grows
and feasts the eyes of the millions who gaze
upon it with rapture and deligh.t *
- - ' # Spirit of the Age
A boy once went to a ragged school and had
his face washed : and when he went home, his
neighbours looked . at him with astonishment.
They smd, "that looks like Tom Rogers, and yet
it can't he, for -he's so - clean." Presently his
mother looked athim ; Onding his face so clean,
she fancied her face dirty, and forthwith washed
it." The father soon come home, and seeing his
wife so clean, thought his face dirty and soon ,
followed; their example. Father, mother and (
son alfbeing clean, the' mother began to think
the room looked dirty, and down she went on
her knees, and scrubbed that clean, There
was a female dodger, in the house who, seeing
such .a change in her neighbours, thought her
-(ace and room very dirty and the spedily betook
to the cleansing operation likewise. And very
soon. thfe"whole house was, as it were, transform- '
ed, and made tidy and comfortable, simply ' by
the cleaning of one ragged schoolboy. '
S '* : . % 'j
WhatRealCottsapb is.-?It is real courage to
wear.old garments till you can afford to pay for
new; to say no when asked to lend "half a dollar"
to even a suffering, loafer; to' refuse to,'drink
toddy when you are uptcyour head and ears in
it; to be honest when it is more profitable to be ,
a knave; to do right against-the current; to be .
.indifferent to groundless slander; to remain un- ^
changed by rosy compliments and gilt-edged. i
solicitations or female "beauty: to walk in the ,|
-pathes of godlfness/'-when both feet are-pitched j
another way; to go'near a brilliant oyster saloon |
at t^omthe morning hungry as $ bear, and not |
go in;" to keep your patient* with ft /chamber- (
tnaiq just from Ireland; to be a man among fools,
lo dtryou^uty if ittifeesyoa tothe Almshouse.
Try mid see. i; . fe - erf " i
?' t i*. .. J*v * - w ' * f>
? *v ?? > ."? ? r - . -? i
Books and Businkbs;-?One half of the world j
: hplievesra business mart Has no right, to dabble \
l in literature. v H9" may gamble ip stocks, 'drive' <
fast horses,- have. a.towu-house, keep aboK-at'the t,
opera; dip in"pclitic3 and indulge in various, e*- |
pcuoi??- lauowo ui uresis luruiiyrtjf ttuu equipage, j
but be mast neither venture in his domestic 4
-pi-iracy, by tis'own^lrwlde, to - read, write, nor ,
think, -or ^Ise^he will go -to???1Texas. The ^
other half of the world, the upper half, entertain .
different opiniob^/T . ' .? ! ;" 1
. r- ; Jg
William8ton^-^ppit?o8.--A friend, writing t
from these Springs, tells lis that there is- but.
Jittle cbrapany in. the", hotels as yet. A large cro^d
? expected during the - summer.' M Willianas
ton," he writes," Is quite a pleasant place <
containing some 6ve or six hundred inhabitants f
Jrithitrits corporate- limits, -It -jfeows op two i
hotels^ a'carnage factory, some fonr stores, a
ampleofboqt <k shoe Ihops and^a taikrioa i
tetablish'theDt.Its chief pride is the Mineral 1
^jHing-r-g beautiful, bold fountain?believed c
^08S^rT9nfl^ Ed^J^i^dv^Sicr. i
* 1 v; *. V y ;/
A Idouiiment WortM While Erect.
i? ?r
Hassler, the mathematician,conceived in his
home in Germany; the ambitious project of converting
the Atlantic seacoast of the "United
States of America into atl imperishable monument
of his fame and his labors. The communication
of his desire to plan and execute
for our government a oomplete survey of" its
eastern coast, led finally to his engagement to
do the work. ?
v How he performed it is well known to that
portion of the public that take an interest in
navigation, and in the federal legislation connected
with the hydrographicnl bureau at
Washington. To but few, however, is known
the absorbing passion with which this distinguished
mathematician pursued his lolly purpose
of erecting a durable monument to his memory
in the American coast survery. In heat and in
cold?in rain and in sunshine?by night and by
day?did he, bred to the best society, and
familiar with distinguished men in his own and
id this country labor at his task upon the
seaside, on exposed headlands, in wet swamps,
in marshes in the broiling sun?exposed to
swarms of insects, and the miasm of damp and
unhealthy localities.
He was in the habit of correcting the work of
His subordinates, and revising and generalizing
their results, at his lodgings in Washington.
Once while thus engaged, the carriage of the
Russian Minister, M. Bodisco, came to his door
The. footman rang, and was by and by opened
to by a small, 6tooping man, with spectacles
and clad somewhat remarkably in a green baize
loose coat. 'IsMrHassler in? He is. 'The
Russian Minister would like to see him' 'Let
him enter'?and the door was left open, and
the green baize and the spectacles and the stoop
ing form receded into a large room
M. Bodisco entering there alone, found the
Surveyor surrounded with maps charts, and
written and figured memoranda, that covered
all the floor. He introduced himself to Mr.
Hassler, and said that he had been commissioned
by .the Russian Emperor to offer him employment
in his Empire at any salary he might
see fit to Dame?that if he had pecuniary engagements
here they would ' be paid for him,
that time sufficient to close his affaire would be
allowed him?but that his early departure for
St. Petersburgh would be desirable.
The German listened till he closed, and in
simple language told the diplomatist that he
was not working for money, that he was building
his monument upon the American coast, and
could not rest till it was done. To the suggestion
that he was receiving an inadequate com
Jensation tor bis labor, the mathematician replied:
n money, sir, I no get paid?but I shall accomplish
one invaluable labor for this American
Republic that shall never perish, That, Count,
is much better tban money.
How wise was his ambition?if ambition of
posthumous fnroe is erer wise! The reputation
conferred by wealth is as evanescent as it is
vulgar. Only works of genius and of benevolent
utility endure the corrosions of time, and retain
a place in man's memory. Long after the names
of the Rothschilds shall have been utterly forgotten
in Europe and America, De Foe will be
held in general honor for bis Robinson Crusoe.
On the Atlantic coast the now dead Hassler
is in affectionate mention among all seafaring
men and dwellers near the beach. They speak
admiringly of his passionate, self-denying devotion
to his great work, llis veneration for landmarks,
too, which sailors can so well appreciate,
is often talked of. The navigators of the dangerous
Delaware Bay will remember Liston's
poplar below Reedy Island, and the Bomb hickory
famous landmarks in those waters. These great
and much-cherished trees intervened in the survey
frequently, and interrupted the observations.
It'never entered Hassler'6 head to cut them
down; but at great trouble he made a station
thirty miles of? upon the height of bleak Iron
Hill, and there got his observations by firing
tar-barrels at night at the base of the trees so
cleat to the Delaware Bay navigators.
Buffalo Democracy.
The Illusions of Life.
How little men are disposed to be content
with the real and practical pleasures, pursuits
and purposes of life. The permanent and substantial
enjoyments derived from honest industry,
are really cast aside for the dubious and
unsubstantial anticipations of some chimerical
dreamer.," The quiet comforts and pleasures of
borne, family and friends are all abandoned lor
the uncertain, doubtful and hazardous adven
ture after gold.and the imagined pleasurable
realities it will purchase. Peace and plenty
smile upon us on the soil bequeathed to us by
Dur lathers and hallowed by every association
that softens and refines the heart, but they are
ibandoned for strange lands and stranger faces
who have none of the strong heart yearnings
md tender affections from which we have ruth
lessly torn ourselves away. But when we wake
from our gilded dreams of. unrealities, how bitter
are- our regrets?how disappointed those
brilliant hopes and prospects that lured us
istray .by their dazzling deceitfulnesB. ,
Some one has remarked that' realities never
;onten? us* The present is probably as fine a
ralley as there ie-in the whole region of life.
Rut-the woods are nothing but woods, shady
If la fvna ' dn/1 iwaam * ahUa a-4'
.? i? ??wv| uuu gaoou, uuv \juiwu V? U lliai J. J mo
rtrearas are excellent, .but we would have beds
)f pearl in place of those deceitful pebbles.?
Ih! there mustbe. woods and sweeter dreams
jeyond the bine hill, yonder..:. So we travel;
jut.tbe soft and dreamy future becomes plain
ipd hard reality as .we proceed.: Those very
ocks weIfrea^ once, looked lovely under the
warm haze of hope; so shall the charm of the
joodly heights beforenajnelt'away, and show
is, as we climb, jusWeufeh.ledges, gnarled oaks,
jhasms, morasses,.wild pines and barren slopes
ui we Jiave passpd.?Sptritjf the Age.
r ^ \ * t- , _ rw
" - '
Tiuwar on ths South.?The New York
Courier and Enquirer which takes strong ground
or the restoration of the Missouri Compromise,
lays: ; *' ."'v'/'".:
"Not^nly must the Missouri Compromise be
estored, fcut until restored, Kansas should never
>e admitted inta-the Union, either as a free or
lave' State. Her Very: existence is a Kbel on
i ? ?.1 / -?it
juuen* HT^jBitvuuu, nuu am rinr as uriwuwiwio, <?
mist be Ignpred"
n
?.' y<^et'\ ' .* ,
A Pretty' Story; -*
Well, I think its likely', but don't tease me
any'rapre. Your-brother has married a poor
girl, one . whom I forbade him to marry, and I
won't fqrgive him if they starvetbgether."
This speech was addressed to a lovely girl
-scarcely eighteen, beautiful as the lily that hides
itself beneath the dark waters. She was parting
the silvery locks on her father's high, handsome
* _ i J ? t t i _ _ *..i" /
roreneao,oi wmcn ner own was a miniature,
and pleading the cause of her delinquent brother,
who had married in opposition to her father's
will* and consequently been disinherited. Mr.
Wheally was a rich old gentleman, a resident of
Boston. He was a fat, good natured oid fellow,
somewhat given to mirth and wine, and sat in
his arm-chair from morning until right smoking
his pipe and reading the newspapers. Sometimes
a story of hiaown exploits in our revolutionary
battles filled up a passing hour. He had
two children, the disobediont son, and the beautiful
girl before spoken of. Tffe fond girl went
on pleading : ,
" Dear father, do forgive him; you don't know
what a beautiful girl ho has married and?"
" I think its likely, said the old man, but
don't tease me, and open the door a little, Tthis
plaguy room smokes so."
"Well" continued Ellen, " Won't you just
see her now?she is so go od, and the little boy,
he looks so innocent."
" What did you say ?" interrupted the father;
" a boyj have L a grandchild ? Why Ellen, I
never knew that before 1 but J think it's veiy
likely. Well, now give me ray chocolate, and
then go to your music lesson."
Ellen left him. The old man's heart began to
relent. * 4
Well," he went on, "Charles was always a
good boy a little wild or so at College, but I indulged
bim ; and he was always good to his old
father for all, but he disobeyed me by marrying
this poor girl; yet as ray old friend and fellowsoldier,
Tom Bonner used to say, we must forgive.
Poor Tom ! I would give all the old shoes
T t 1.1. i _L.i i i.:
room in my Louse for us all."
"Oh, how happy we shall be!" she exclaimed,
"Ellen and her father will love our little Thomas
so, and he'll be your pet won't he father?"
"Ay," said the old man, "I think its very
jikely."
Wife.?There is no combination of letters in
the English language which excites more pleasand
interesting associations in the mind of
iL. J
iiihu man me wuru wue. ^
There is magic in this little word. It sends
to the mind's eye a cheerful companion, a disinterested
adviser, a nurse in sickness, a comforter
in misfortune, and a faithful and ever affectionate
friend. It conjures up the image of a lovely
and confiding woman, who cheerfully under- .
takes to contribute to your happiness?to partake
with you the cup, whether of weal or woe,
which destiny may offer.
The word wife is synonymous with the greatest
earthly blessing; and we pity the unfortunate
wight, who is condemned by fate's severe
desree to trudge along tJSpugh life's dull pilgrimage
without one.
Lovb and Mathematics.?Mdlle d'Launyj. '
a French authoress of the eighteenth century,' ,
whose Writings were distinguished by their
piquant delicacy and correctness of judgment,
thus writes concerning one who had formed an
early attachment for her:?Monsieur de Rey .
always showed me great attachment. I dis-.; j
covered by slight indication, some.dimunition in (
his passion.# I often went to see Mademoiselle ,
d'Epinar, at whose house he almost always was. j
As she lived very near my convent, I generally ]
returned on foot and he never faired to offer me j
his arm to conduct me home. . We had to (
pass through a large square. Then I saw (
that he crossed it in die middle, whence that I (
concluded that his love-had at least diminished (
by the difference between the diagonal and the
two sides square. . i
Paste that ib Pa3T*.?Dissolve an ounce of
alum in a quart of warm water when cold,, add fj
as ranch floor as will make it the consistence of i
ereamj then strew into it as much powdered t
rosin as win stand on a shilling, and two or three fc
' ?--? ? A 1-4 .It lU I
Cloves} 0011 it. to n oodsismuub, lumuj^ oil mo i ?
time. It wilikeep for twelve month*, and when I r
dry, many be softened with water. 1 r
. -. ?- * .1 -.v. ?
S i
i nave got, iu mjow wuaiever oeeuiue ui iinu.
If I could but find him or one of his children I
Heaven grant they are not suffering! This
plaguey smoky room, how my eyes water ? If I
did but know who this girl was my Charles has
married; but 1 have never heard her name. Til
find out and? ?
"I think it's likely," said the old man.
Ellen led into the room a beautiful boy, about
two years old. His curly hair and rosy cheeks
could not but make one love him.
"Who is that?" said the old man, wiping his
eyes.
"That?that is Charles' boy," said Ellen,
throwing one of her arms around her father's
neck, while with the other she placed the child
on his knee. The child looked tenderly up in
his face and lisped out;?
"Grandpa what makes you cry so?"
The old man clasped the child to his bosom,
kissed him again and again. After this emotion
had a little subsided, he bade the child tell his
name.
"Thomas Bonner Whoatly," said the boy, "I'm
named after grandpa."
"What do I hear?" said the old man, "Thomas
Bonner your grandfather!"
"Yes," lisped the boy, "and he lives with me
at " _ .
"Get my cane," said the old man, "and come
Ellen; be quick child."
They started off at a quick pace, which soon
brought them to the poor, though neat lodgings
of his son. There he beheld bis old friend,
Thomas Bonner, seated in one corner, weaving
baskets while his swathed limbs showed bow
unable he was to perform his necessary task.
His lovely daughter, the wife of Charles was
out seeking employment to support his needy
family. "*
"It's all my fault," sobbed the old man as he
embraced his friend, who wa9 petrified with
amazement.. "Come,"
said Mr. Wheatly, "come all of you
with me, we will live together, there is plenty of
\ - -Colds.'
" How do yOu do 1" /Pretty AveU,- thank*
you, only I have.gnt a dreadful cold".*'. -:We
have hpard.'lhal question 'a'nd answer. so"
frequently of late, that, we begin to' suspect; it
lis the pass word to rfome h?w order, t Every.body
has a cold now-a-days; for ourselves, we'
have one ihfct-wpuld do credit.to a native JVlexioan.dropped
snddenly^nto Green Mid, arid^-3
a bit of sympathy does one get in bis affliction.
If you have a tooth-ache or a head-ache, Or the
gout, or an ague, every'niarr you meet is ready
In oivfl vnn fiirt v roinnHina nvora. nna nNivliinh
he can declare from'diis personal knowledge to
be infallible: but a cold lovery body ha9 them,
and the only response you get fa, 41 Ah, indeed;
colds are very prevalent now a-days.1.^ '
The subject is one of such universal interest
that the following passages from the Jojirnal
of Health cannot fail to prove interestingHOW
DO PEOPLE TAKE COLD.
Not by tumbling into the river and draggling
home.wet as a drowned rat; not by .'being
pitched into the mud, or spilled out in the snow
in sleighing time.; not by. walking for hours
over the shoe top in mud; not by soaking in
the rain without an umbrella ;'not by scrubbing
the floor until the unnameable sticks to you
like a wet rag; not by hoeing potatoes nntil
you are in a lather of sweat; not by trying to
head a pig in mid-winter, and induce him to
run the other way, for he won't-de any such
thing: not bV steaming over the wash-tub;
not by essaying to teach Biddy to make mince
pies for Christmas, when you don't know yourself,
and then worrying yourself into a perspiration
because the pies stuck to the pan, and
came out in a muss, forgetting that pie-pans,
like people, are rather the better lor- a little
greasing, alias soft soap; these are not the
things which give people colds; and yet people
are all the time telling us how they "caught
their death by exposuro." *** -
The time for biking cold is after taking exercise;
the place is in your own houBe, or office,
or counting room. It is the getting cool too
quick after exercising. For example you walk
very fast, to get to the railroad station ; or to
the ferry ; or to catch an omnibus; or to make
time for an appointment; your mind being
ahead of you, the body makes an extra effort
to keep up with it; and when you get to the
desired spot, you raise your hat and find your
self in a perspiration; you take a -seat, and
feeling quite comfortable as to temperature, you
begin to talk with a friend ; or, if a New Yorker,
to read a newspaper; and before you are
aware of it, you experience a sensation of chilliness,
and the thing is done! You look around
to see where the cold comes, and find a window/
open near you, or a door, or that you have
taken a seat at the forward part of the car, and
it moving ngains^ the wind, a strong draft is
made through the crevices.
Young ladies take their colds in grandly dark
parlors unused and unfired for a week ; warm
euuugii were tuuy, aimuat tuu warm iu uie goj,
sun-shiny street without; and that parlor felt
comfortably cool at first, but the last curl of
the visited would not dangle satisfactorily, and
while compelling it, (young ladies now-a-days
make it a point of principle not to be thwarted
in anything, not even in wedding rich Tom to
please the old folks, when they love poor Dick
and intend to please themselves,) while conquering
that beautiful but unruly curl, the visitor
makes an unexpected meeting with a chill,
which calls her to the?grave.
I cannot give further space to illustrations to
i .1 . O iL . f
arrest trie attention ot me careless, nut win
reiterate the principle for the thoughtful and observant:
get cool slowly.
A Skull with a Tongue.?When Dr. John
Donne, the famous English poet and divine of
the reign of James I., attained possession of his
first living, he took a walk into the churchyard,
where the sexton was at the time digging a
grave, and in the course of his labor threw op
a skull. This skull the doctor took into his
hands and found a rusty headless nail sticking
in the temple of it, which he drew oot secretly
and wrapped in the corner of his handkerchief.
He then demanded of the grave-digger whether
be knew whose skull that was. He said it was ,
a man s wno Kept a ?*ranay snop?an oonesr,
drunken fellow who one night having taken
two quarts, was found dead in his bed next :
morning. "Had he a wife?" "Yes" ''What j
character does she bear ?" " A very good one:; 1
only the neighbors reflect on her because she
married the day after her husband was buried." j
This was enough for the doctor who under the
pretence of visiting his parishioners, called on
the woman. He asked her several questions, '
and among others what sickness her husband .
died of. She giving him the same account he ']
had before received, he suddenly opened the
handkerchief, and cried in an authoritative voice
?"Woman, do you know this nail?". 'She was ;
struck with horror at the unexpected demand,
instantly owned the fact, and was brought to ]
i i ..I m i ' >.i
inai ana execuiea. xruiy mignc one say, wun ]
even more point than Haraletj that that" skull |
had a tongue in it. " . (
- > ; i
' i
, Homicide ik Lexington.?We learn that-Mr. -j
Daniel'Jacobs was killed, on Friday, evening |
28th ult., on his farm near Spring Hill, Lexington, {
District, by Mr. Nathan Richardson, ?. near f
neighbor. Both these men were highly rcspec- s
table.citizens, and the difficulty, one of long ^
standing originated-about a disputed' line be- j
tween their lands. They met at the point of .
dispute, each armed with guhsjwhen Richardson r
shot him?thirteen* buck shot penetrating lib' x
heart. Joseph Counts, esq:,acting as coroner, e
held an inquest, on Saturday morning, on the
jody, when Mr. Richardson promptly surrender^ 0
;d himself to the^cera of the flaw and * was a
jommitted to jail. ' His counsel. Henry Summer
ssq., of Newberry we understand, will. make - an
tarly application for bail in his behalf. ^
' 7 . South Carolinian. .
r . . , - - ' , " Jt
t T - j.. *
Thr Author ard His Work.?t A Porto "
ruese sculptor, Who was suspected of free think- ^
ng, was at .the point of death. A Jesuit Who to
fame to confess hira/holding a crucifix before
dweyes, said, "Behold that God whom yoq &
tave so modi offended. Do yon recollect him ?'
iow r M Alas! yes, father," replied the dying ?
nan," it was I wha made him. . .. tj
*" r- > * : >' . *>
.. * * ; #
A Dnrk Pltmre?l ih? ?wta,
t .A ecjfre^pdndenLlie New"York Observer "
ihu8~daguerreo types tlmSuisH/ofthe -presenr
dayiT" My.estimate 'of the Swiss character b?*
wo fully depreciated' since I have, travelled
among tbese mountains. With a history audi
as'Greece might befnroudof, and a race of V .
roes that Rome neverelccelfedfii thedarrwjfjffln
women Vonld be mother*. only to bave^soha,
for -warriors, the Swiss oeoble liow art' at a
point of national and soQjsj^depression painful
to contemplate.**-7Tl|ey^JRndebted largely ta *
the .defences of nature for the comparatir'e
liberty they eiyoy, and perhaps lo. the tame sr.
elusion" is to preferred the' waOt of a" thousand
comforts of Iife t^TifcH In'jfriproved st#t?
of society brings. Al^the rotnrihcg of s8wt?
cottage ia^ken'opt^of tbe travelle^a rhrr.d.rt*
moment be outers ond of these tobbif^ndf
seek s refreshment or rest* * 'I'he saddest marks
of poverty meet bim at tbe^door.> Th6^sarrfi '
roof istbejshelterof man, woman and bsut.
Tlte same room is often the bed chamber of
?ii : e.?i ?i 4t~* ~y?*->-?.i ta? "?
am u^aiivT ivuiij anifirliab UllseniU/Jf prepsreo,
is consumed without those domestic .arrangements
which make life aj hontp a Io*ury.~
There is no future to the mind ofa Swiss youth.
He., loves to live as his'father Iiv6d; and that is
the end of life with him. . Perhaps he may
have a gun, and in that ca4e,-. to be--the best '
shot in the valley may fill his ambition ; or '\t:
he-is strong in the. arms and logs, he may aim
at distinction in the games which once a^jeaf
are held at some hamlet in the Canton, where
the wrestlers and runners contend for victcay,
and others throw weights and leap bars, as of
old in Greece, when kings were not as&uhed^ioenterthe
list Many , of the youth of Swlt- \
zerland are willing to sell themselves^-Swise:
soldiers?hired, to be shot at, aHd. shoot any
body a foreign despot may send them to slay ;.
a service so degrading and fit the same.time'm>.
decidedly hazardous to life and limb, with- ao
pjor a chance/or pay, that none buth-* people
far gone in social degradation would be willing
thus to make merchandise of their blood. Yet
they have fought battles bravely witfi none of
the. stimulus of patriotism, and thehr blood haa
been as freely poured out for tyrantrwho hired
tbe-n, as if they were bleeding fo/their, own
and .the land of William TelL ;; r ; v. V
- ; "V
A Brave Woman.?A pair or Greeks Dome
for.?A family named Lomont, residing in the <
vicinity of Rhinebeck during the past winter
employed an Irishman, who came to their house
one day for assistance to attend to the general
out-door business of the house. The family
thought be was an honest and ' industrious roan,
until a few days ago, when he went to Mrs.
Lamont and desired some money, saying he waa
going away. Mrs. Lamont,'3 not having the
change with her, told him to go to the village
and see her husband, who was there ou business
and he would give it to him. He accordingly
did so and obtained the money he wanted. The
next morning, when Mr. Lamont got up to makd
the fire, he found the windows and doors all
open, and all tbe knives, forks, chairs die.,
lying around the dining room.
He immediately called bis wife, who^as soon
as possible, came down and on going into the
room where the man slept, she found him in bed.
ou- il i - v_ i-r * ? ? *
one lutiu oegan 10 iook aooui lor UCr tilings,
and found almost all of hersilk dresses missing,
together with her gold rings aid s chain and a
number of other very valuable articles. Suspicion
immediately rested upon the Irishman, who was
arrested, and, on his being brought before a
justice confessed his guilt, and was sent to prison
for twenty days. In his room were found the
chain and in a place called the Hollow, hear
the house, were found all the silk dresses, which
he had taken to the village to.iell, bat finding
no one to bay them, hid them, in that place. y.
Two or three days after the. bccurrenoe, while
Mrs. Lamont was in the house all alone, she
thonght she heard footsteps in* the , parlor, and
on going up into tluf room, she perceived a tall,
raw-boned Irshman in the room, and just about
to enter into her bedroom, with .a big stick,
about three feet. long. She demanded what
business he had in her house, when he Informed her
that it was his house, and that if sho did not go
out of it he would soon make her, tbatfthej had
sent one of his countryman to jail, and he waa
going to have revenge.^ ' ' ,
Finding she could not get him out, she went *'
into an adjoining robm, where her httsband had
a loaded'rousket and cocking it,- went baek to
the parlor, and bringing the musket up level
with his head, (old him to-depairt^ that if-hetflid
not she would blow bis brains out. 'The fellow,
not liking the looks of the instrument, began to
inov$ off, and as horrent,she- followed with the
tnusket up to his head for a distance of nearly a
quarter of a.mlle, when she was met'by 'some
men, who look him into custody.
To Make Home Interesting,?Every time
your husband comes in up and tell him that
Bridget baa broken anotberone of them yaller
platters, and then branch off-on those distressed
people up-si airs, who will pebist Mn throwing
iv\lnfrtA rvn?I?*/? ?** Ah - ^ "* ** ^ "* *
jA/wvuD |/anu|ja.]|ivu LUC ITOUt HreS. JieVlQg
disposed of this, tell himlthat the butter he sent
iorae is strong enough to pull a tow-boat while
,he beefsteak which icame from ?Mu,tton^ the
iutcher^arrived iust in time to get i up r fight
jetween. the roaltese cat andoldhrindle dog?ft
ight that terminated with the lots of the steak
ind the gain of two quarts .of assorted hair. As
toon as this strikes in; tell him the wood is ovA
md that Mr, Anthracite has Sent around again,
orthe afmount oflhatcoa^bilb If you couki
hrow.jn here's W hints about yow wanting ft
lew .dress, and thai.little Bobby lookif kadf ho
vas getting the small pox, the effect will bft
ilectricel. ; . ;* . > -X' " Wives
who like to rave their husband's smell ""
f hot toddy and cigar srooke^ should eot the
bove oat and practice on it -A
.* K?' <' ' .
Uhnrcksary Expknbs.?It has been catenfch
?d,that thecost'-of washing linen that rtighi
ist as well be-worn two days longer, amounts
> enough in this country to more than' defray
ie expenses of the'American Board of Forehra
[issiobst The expense ofbuttons wort on (fee
act of our coats, where tiwyaw of no ttrthty
w, is eqaaItoJ?$upporl
lyhitiwl T^1oerftailsto<lfwico?^<ofeo
Uuexn reaflpifof w?mth or convenience.)
actually greater thanthecort of our tscefttot
stem of common flbtfiidtj.
. yW. $. <T
n ftTatiiinfi . ss. -it. r-iPfft/t,