The Abbeville banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, June 19, 1856, Image 1
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TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM] 44 this phiob o f libbiity is 33ten.isr-a.ij viaixiaisroii." [PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.
BY DAVIS & HOLLINGSWORTH. ABBEVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, JUNE 19, 1856. VOL. YTir n^r* o
aJUUgiSiS'Jaiiaa. ills?? a.
From the American Union.
ANNIE LEE, 011 THE BRIDAL SONG.
BY KATE RANDOLPH.
Annie Lee was ;i poetess. Nature made
Ijer one, and she sung as tlio biid sings,
?nd tl?j flower sends out fragrance. She
3ived with her parents in the beautiful
country.
Annie had many admirers. The old
Hoved lier for her sweetness and simplicity.
She had lovers, too, men of refinement and
culture, who looked down into her young
- . * - > * - * -
?v??t, auu qnw uiw treasure iiiai jay ill 1110
"bottom. But as yot Annie loved no one
more than her parants; she sung her songs
from out a gushing, happy soul, and rejoiced
the hearts and made beautiful the
Jives of all who came near to her.
One summer day as Annio sat sewing
and chatting with her mother, they saw
'from the window a stranger guest approaching
the cottage. It was Earnest May, an
old friend who had been absent for ten
years from his native country, lie had returned
with a mind richly stored with experience
and knowledge gained from abroad.
Ten years before, he had taken Annie Lee
in his arms ar.d petted her as a pretty and
gifted child as she really was. lie was then
? ,.r a....:. .. -i.:t i -<
jvuii^, mail ui unjmv, i\uiiivj a miiu yjt
seven years.
Annie looked into tlie faec of their guest,
and wondered liow she could have forgotten
her old friend. Earnest looked into the
beautiful poetic eyes of the lovely gill, ntul
thought he had never seen, even under Italy's
fair skies, a more attractive face. The
visit was brief and soon came to an end.
Earnest May went to his life of study and
thought. Annie, still a cottage girl, went
niorc often into the deep wild woods, to
weave into graceful song the fancies that
crowded her brain. A new inspiration had
come to the young girl with the presence
of the stranger. A cord hitherto untouched
now thrilled in its strange melody, and
ziiitnaa wns mure cuinpimu :uiu uarllious.
Earnest may was not a declared lover,
lie was ever calm and dignified in his affection
for Annie. lie may have loved the
beautiful child, but how well 110 one could
icll ; perhaps lie thought only of her as a
gifted child of song, and so lingered in her j
presence c.haincd by sympathy of mind i
over mind.
Annie did not n*k herself if Earnest i
loved her. She only felt his kindness, and
was blessed in her own absorbing passion.
One summer dny Annie was surprised by
tho arrival of Earnest. She had not been
"warned of his approach, and she sprang
over the door sill with a light, almost wild
step, to welcome him.
"You did not tell me you were coining,
Earnest, and now I am more glad that
umi ilwl n.->f fix- .I.Jo ........ ? 1
" I have come sooner than I thought lo,
for I have something to say to you, Annie.
I love most tendcrlv, even pussionatelj', a
lovely gill. Do not (urn your ?-yes from
ine, I hid sure you are my good frii iid."
"Is she very beautiful, Earnest?'* snid Annie,
trembling.
"Ah, yes, Annie, more beautiful than
even your own wildest fancy ever wove into
song. Will you, dear child, when you are
in the glow of your highest imagination,
write a bridal song ? and let it be more rich
in beauty than the shy is at midnight with
stars. Oh, Annie, she is divinely beautiful,
for a gifted soul looks out of the soft features,
and tinges the smile and lights the
eye with more than a human beauty.?
Will you not rejoice wiih 111c, that at last I
can see with a lover's vision, that the scales
have all fallen from dead eyes, and now
everywhere see newness of life."
Annie was silent; she did not say that
fibo rejoiced in her friend'* happiness.
** Forgive me, Annie, for withholding this
-secret from yon so long. It was sweet to
ikeep it in iny own soul, and gloat over it
and look at it with a miser's eye. You forgive
me, Annie?"
41 Yes, yes, I forgive."
Earnest and Annie did not meet again
Jill the family circle were gathered for the
evening. Earnest sat apart from Annie,
and engaged the old people in pleasant conversation.
Annie listened, but looked out
into the night on the soft moonlight on the
.green sloping bank. She was exerting a
more Until physical power over her thoughts,
and striving lo beat, hack the low rumblings
of the tumult that deep down in her young
Ardent nature was bursting into fresh rebellion.
Tbe effort was too great. A dizziness
stole over Annie's over-taxed brain. She
6a# the trees dancing, the brook waving
backwnrd and forward, and the moonlight
shadow swam before her eye?. She uttered
a faint cry, and would liave fallen from her
seat, hod not Earnest, who had been watching
her intently, sprang forward and caught
ber in his amis.
They took Annie to her bed.
The powerful excitement of the day, with
Ber effort to conquer it, had created fever in
-tar veins and ber braiu. For a week An
Die lay in great danger.
In ber unconscious sta*?, Anoio talked
ccnetantly of i Earned of bia beautiful bride,
an<? ^dt'ber "own gfjof. ?k>n?etjroea . she
j)
J
would fancy she was preparing the bridal
wreath, and would call for fresh flowers
from the brook. Again she would repeat
the words of Earnest :
"Ah, Annie, she is more beautiful than
your wildest fancy ever wove into song."
Then she would improvise rhyme, saying.
" this shall be the bridal song. 1 will not
be the naughty child of my dear friend. I
icill writo him a bridal song, and sing it
too at his wedding."
Earnest, at such times, would listen
with the deepest feeling to all thore revelations
of her poet soul. Ho wrote in his
tablets each lino of sweet verse she had
named the " bridal song." He was never
absent from her side, and the first object
J ness, was Earnest Mny. She held out her |
j thin white haml to him, and tried to speak !
her thanks for his presence.
Many weeks of weariness and languor j
came to the poor sick girl ere she could !
leave her bed. There seemed to ho sonjrtliinjr
holding her hack from health. Iler j
mind was not quiet and at rest.
Earnest read the soul of the young girl, j
and on each day felt more than ever like a j
i guilty wretch, who had crushed in his rude !
| hand a beautiful and fragile flower. Well j
| as he had imagined he had understood her,
he found he had no conception of the e>:- !
I
I tremc delicacy and sensitiveness of her na- j
: turc. No attention or kindness from him '
I could in any way wipe out the great wrong '
I he luid done her. lint what was in his :
i power to give, he gave with earnestness and i |
| devotion. It was ho who sat by her bed- I
side, nnd strove l?v pleasant conversation i
' and reading, to entice her back to liealtli j
j anil cheerfulness. His arm bore licr slight ;
i frame from the sick room into the genial '
I
sunshine.
i Nor was Earnest wholly unsuccessful in
lii~ efforts to restore Annie to health ; ami !
j when tlie soft air touched her pale check,
there sprang up again in her soul a desire
to live, if but to revel in the beauty of
nature. !
One day Earnest bore Annie into the j
garden arbor. Annie was still weak, and ;
very pale, from the effect of her long illness.
She seemed as fragile as an infant in (
i the arms of the strongman. How slight !
! a breath might nip the beautiful flower ? j
! and yet a strong will was beating in her !
bosom, and a brave heat t was in that frail '
tenement, that was buoying her by 011 the j
wave of destiny, and would surely bear her !
safely to some protecting harbor.
Earnest drew from his bosom a tablet !
upon which were inscribed the lines of the '
song improvised in Annie's delirium. He
commenced reading it to Annie, who sat
1
perfeotly absorbed in llie strange mystery. | .
The rhyme. :lie thought was hers, but i |
how could she account for the traceable j ,
lines ?
Earnest closed the verso, and replaced
the tablet, and then said in a low vuice:?
44 Annie, this is our bridal song."
... \
Annie turned her beautiful eyes into the
face of Euruest, as if to read the meaning i '
of his words.
41 Dear Annie, why did you lot your wild, j 1
wayward hjfirt mislead vou, when 1 strove j
to tell you of my love for you ?"
"Your love for inc. dear Earnest! vou !
. i
said she whom you loved was very beauli- i i
fill and gifted." I t
" And so she is, sweet Annie. Who, An- . c
nie, but you, could have inspired sucli love ! 1
as has blessed, and well-nigh wrecked my j f
life." _ c
44 And is it me, dear Earnest, that you j t
loved so tenderly, so passionately ?" And : |
the poor girl buried her face in the bosom j
of Earnest and wrpt, the first happy tears j j
that had touched licr cheek fur many long
weeks. t
" You, and you only, my lieauliful child
poet!" and Earnest raised the small head J
from his hosoin, and kissed away the tears
as he playfully said :? (
"Haste, Annie, and soon be well, for I ,
long to sing the bridal song." ,
Header, is the story told ? (
A Sad Picture.?O! were the tongue 1
dipped in the gall of celestial displeasure, I 1
would describe the case of a man expiring !
in the cruel agonies of unbelief. Ah, see ! !
Everything conspires to trouble me now. ''
I am dying; I despair recovering; phyni- 1
cians have given mo over; the sighs and
tears of friends are useless?the world can- '
U7I.!?I T ? ?
nut, vuiu inc. >vimuer nm 1 going j
What will become of my body ? My God
wluit a spectacle ! The horrid torches, the
dismal shroud, the coffin, the tolling bell,
and tho subterranean abode ! Then what
will become of my soul ? I am ignorant
of its destiny; and I am plunging into
eternal night! My infidelity tells me my
soul is nothing but a subtile matter; another
word, n vision, imtnoitality; a fancy
and yet I feel, I know not what, that troubles
iny infidelity. Annihilation, terrible as
it ia, would appear tolerable to me, were
not the ideas of heaven aud hell (o present
themselves to me in spite of myself. I see
heaven, that immortal mansion of glory,
mIilit- Atminnt ine. I see it at nn
distance. I see it, but my crimes forbid me
to enter. I see hell?hell which I have
ridiculed. It opens under my feet. I hear
the horrible groans of the damned; the
smoke of the bottomless pit chokes my
words and wraps my thoughts in suffocating
darkness, ' u' ' '
IN DEBT AND OUT OF DEBT.
Of what hideous progeny of ill is debt
the father! What meanness, what invasions
of self-respect, what double-dealing !
IIow, in duo season, it will carvc the frank,
open face into wrinkles; how like a knife
it will stab the honest heart. And then its
transformations. How it has been known
to change a goodly face into a mask of
brass; how, with tho miserable custom of
debt has tho truo man become a callous
trickster ! A freedom from debt, and what
nourishing sweetness may be found in cold
water ; what toothsomeness in a dry crust;
what ambrosial nourishment in a hard egg;
Bo sure of it, ho who dines out of debt,
though his meal bo a biscuit and an onion,
dines in "Tho Apollo."
And then, for raiment, what warmth in
a thread-bare coat, if tho tailor's receipt be
in your pocket! what Tyrian purple in the
faded waistcoat, the vest not owed (or; how
glossy the well-worn hat if it covers not
the aching head of a debtor! Next the
lw.mn. .1 -
<u?iu IUU UUI UUUI I UCI'iNl11<) 11 OI
the free man. Tlie street door falls not a
knell on li 13 heart; the foot of the staircaso
through his anatomy ; at the rap of his
iloor he can crow " come in," and his pulse
btill beats heathfully, his heait sinks not in
his bowels.
See him broad. How lie returns look
for look with any passenger; how he saunters
; now meeting an acquaintance, he
stands and gossips, but then this man
knows no debt; debt that casts a drug in
Lhe richest wine; that makes the food of
llio gods unwholesome, indigestible ; that
sprinkles the banquets of a Lucullus with
;ishes, and drops sont in the soup of an
Emperor ; debt, that like the moth, makes
valueless furs and velvets, enclosing the
wearer in a festering prison, (the shirt of
N'essus was a shirt not paid foi ;) debt
Lhat writes upon frescoed halls, thti hand- j
writing of the attorney, that puts a voice
>f terror in the knocker; that debt, the
invi.-ible demon that walks abroad with a
man, now uuiekcuing his steps, now making
him look on all sides like a limited
heast, and which bringing to his face the
iialiy hue; of death as the unconscious pasMUiger
looks glaneingly upon him.
l'ovortv is a bitter draught, yet may, and
jotiU'times can with advantage, be swallowed
down. Though the drinker makes
ry faces, there may, after all, be a whole onie
goodness in the cup. l?ut debt, liow ver
courteously it may be offered, is the ,
::ip of Syroii; and the wire, spiced and j
lelieious though it be, is poison. The tnan
nit of debt, though with a flaw in his jer;in,
a crack in his .shoe leather, and a hole
u his hat, is still the son of liberty and
Yeo as the singing lark above him ; but
lie debtor, although clothed in the utmost
jravery, what is ho but a surf out upon
i holiday?a slave to he reclaimed at any
ustant bv his owner, the creditor ?
My son, if poor, see wine in the run
inig see my mouth water at a last
veek's roll; think a thread-bare coat the 1
>nly proper thing to wear; and acknowl
r.lge a white washed garret the fittest housing
place for a gentleman ; do this, and flee '>
lebt. So shall thy heart be at rest and the 1
herilF confounded.?Douglas Jerrold.
The Vine, the Olive and the Cotton Plant
n Northern Italy.?Robert II. Lees, Uni- (
ed States Consul at Spezzia, in reply to a
ircular February 20, 1856, issued from the
'atent Oifice at Washington, gives the
bllowing interesting facts in relation to the
:ultiire of colli>ii in Italy: During the oc- (
upation of Italy by the French under the ,
irst Napoleon, one of hit) projects was the
ntroduction of the cotton plant, but it ,
ailed generally throughout Northern Italy;
ind now cotton is not raised further North
ban in some of the Papal States. The
>rincipal agricultural products of this part
>f Italy are the olive and grape, with
which the whole face of the country is
:overed, even up to the summits of the
tiMmiiuiiiis, which been) inaccessible. Tbe
kino and olivo trees are carried up and
cultivated by means of terraces, constructed
it great expense and labor, and tlie perfect
beauty of tiieir appearance at tliis season,
with everything in leaf and blossom,
may easily be imagined. Tbe olive trees
uro planted in groves very thickly, and requiro
little caie beyond a simple scraping
around the roots, and a stirring up of the
soil early in the spring. Between the trees
is plaulcd the vine, to which they seem as
lattice work, festooned with its leaves and
tendrils. The annual value of each tree is
estimated at five francs, (about uioety cents,)
ana lis naruiness is sucn, uiat while tlie
vino for the last fivo years lins been destroyed
or rendered unproductive by disease,
tlie olive hat remained unhurt. A
great blessing this has been to the peasantry,
for had the olive proved as sickly as the
grape, a fearful famine mu>t have ensused.
m ?
tar A very loquacious lady once offered
to bet her husband fifty dollars that
she would not speak a word for a week.
u Done!" said the delighted hosband,
staking the money, which she immediately
put into her pocket, observing, very gravely,
uiat sue would secure it until Uie wager
was decided.
"Why, madam," cried the husband, "I
have won it already."
M You art mistaken in the time," said
the lady, "I mean the week after I-tun ba*
ADDRESS TO THE AMERICAN FLAG.
The following, by tlie profound "Sijuixsh," of
California, was studdled up whilst acttin' onto
the l'iazxy fense, watching of the American flog
waivin' from the top of the liberty-pool:
O, mity rag 1 O, hooteous peose of kloth ! i
Maid up of red and white and blue stripes,
And slurs pniuted on both sides?
All hale! Again I'm settiii' in thi umbrajus I
Sliadder, and admiriu' of the granger.
And auckin' into my chist the gentle zofTers
That are holdin' you out well ui onto
Strate. (? real flag! whiyj I shet
.Mi ize and look at ye, and think
IIow as when you wos little, and not much
limn i* ?' 11 "1 1
? - i'ccqu ui Kiuin, alia
Almost ns tender as a shetn of paper, you
Was karried all thru the rcvolushuuAry
war, and have som Tew times sinco
Held lip your lied with difficulty, and
IIow treinciijus you are now, I feel
Jest us if I Hhud bust and fii nil round, and want
To git down off the fense, and git shot,
Or stab'd, or hit on the head with a stick of
Wood, or hung, for my kuutry.
Prodijus banner I wouldn't I sinilc to sec
A Chinaman, or n small unnatehcrulizcd
Forriner undertuik to pull you dowu !
If a Chinaman, I wud slai him, and kut
Off his kcw, and benr it off in triumph !
Before I'd sec n slit tore in ye, or the sackrelijus I
Hands of a fo a kuttin' yu up into a bullit
Putchiti', I'd braBO my bak agin a waul (or a
House, or a fense, or a bord, us it mite be,)
And fltc, and scratch und
i-:_i. ?1 i.:?- ? ?
HivK, uiiu u.ic, uuu iure my moose, and ;
Loo/.e mi lint, and hit iiim in the i, and
On mi leg, (linrd,) and ukrost the smnul of
Mi hitk, nnd fuul down nnd git up
Agin, and koutinue the struggle for a huff or i
Three-quarters of an hour, or until I got
Severely wounded.
Tvrriftlc omblem ! how proud ye look.
And how aliuiiy sassy you waiv round,
A snapping and erackin', and ekariii' of horses ;
I spoaeyour almost tnrin' to get into a
Kite with somebody, and satisfyin' your karNiverous
dispersitiou by eatiu' a whole nnshun.
(ireatflag! I don't know which mniks me J
Feel tlie most patriotic?yu or the 4th of July ; |
Yu aiut made of the same kind of stufl, ultlio' j
Yu lire about the same age, and aro both
Sublime and terrible to koutcmplale.
Hut I must klose, slid wave my last adoo,
However tryin* to my feelins it may be,
And git down off of the fense, for already the
Sharp pints of the pockets begin to stick me.
And make me skriugeand hitch about,
Ami threaten lu tare my kloase, ttuil niiike me '
holler.
NEWSPAPERS AND THE SCRIPTURES. |
It is reported that the New Yurie Bible i
Society is meditating the plan of publishing
the Uiblo in newspaper form for more general
circulation. This plan, though novel in j
our day, was partially adopted in past times, '
by tho printers of nomo of the English pa
p :rs. When newspapers were first established,
they were quite destitute of .advertisements,
and nothing was more common
than for papers to be issued with a blank
page. The first newspapers printed in
America had only three pages of reading ;
matter, as there was not foreign or domes- |
tie news enough to fill out all the columns. <
In England, after awhile, a new method ]
was adopted to fill up the space not re- i
quired for the current news, by publishing 1
selections from the sacred Scriptures, and i
many an old newspaper is now extant with <
a whole page copied from tho Bible. Chap- i
ters from the New Testament, were placcd }
at tho head of the column, and the sDace .
below was filled out with a psalm of the (
required length, lu the period which this, ,
Lo us, novel proceeding was resorted to, in ,
order to fill out the newspaper, the Bil?lo f
was not so common or so cheap as at pres- ,
ent, and doubtless much good resulted <
from the practice. What would some of ,
the subscribers to our popular journals say j
if their favorite sheet was to appear with j
*even or eight columns selected from the |
Scripture ? Doubtless in some quarters,
even in our da}', extracts from the Bible
would be " news indeed!"?Boston Tran\
script. I
NEWSPAPER BY-LAW8. j
A cotemporary lays down the following .
pithy code of newspaper by-laws. They ]
are the best we have seen drawn up :
1. Be brief. This is the aero of teleorranh
nnd stenography.
2. Be pointed. Don't write nil Around a
subject without hitting it.
3. State facts, but don't stop to moralize.
It's a drowsy subject. Let the reader do
his own dreaming.
4. Eschew prefaces. Plunge at once into '
your subject, like a swimmer in cold water.
5. If you have written a sentence that
you think particularly fine, draw your pen
through it. A pot child is always the worst
in the family.
6. Condense. Make sure that you really '
have an idea, and then record it in the Bhort- 1
est possible terras. We want thoughts in 1
their quintessence. 1
7. When your article is completed, strike
out nine-tenths of the adjectives. The English
is a strong language, but won't bear
much " inducing."
8. Avoid all flown language. The plainest
Anglo-Saxon wares are the best Never
use stilts when legs will do as well.
9. Make jour sentences short. Every
period it a milestone, at which the reader
may stop aod rest himself;
10. Write legibly, Dod*t let your manuscripts
look like tbo tracks of i? spider
half drowned in ink. We shan't mistake
anybody for a genius,, though he write as
erabbedly as Napoleon.
few 4 tuOrfe"of*Africa, who vieited
Kngland afswyear* agcy when asked What
ice was, said, H bim be ws|? fast Kfilji'.*
V
MECHANICAL PHRASES.
A few days ago a couple of men got into
a fight, and as a consequence, it being
naturally tlio case, a ring of oxcited individuals
got around the parties and each
according to his own feelings in tlio matter,
gave his advace:
" Peg it into," said the shoemaker;?
" hammer his upper leather for him?that's
it, wax him my lad ; beat him ?"
" Cut it into his fat, old fellow," said tlio
butcher ; " knock hitn on tlio head !?
You're a regular calf, you are! Knuckle
him, now yer got him, and mako mince
meat of him !"
" Dress him well," said the tailor "see
how lie pants! fell him ! givo liim a stitch
in his rise! button up his lip, and knock
him baii?r-ut?!
"Tan his hide," said the currier; "peel
the bark of! his noso?and damago his
skin!"
"This suits me exactly," said tho lawyer,
" get his head in a chancery, and bleed
him till he pleads, then bo's a good case."
Then advancing to the other one, ho said :
"lie's doing an injury?bo's perfectly ferocious,
rake tho law on him, and, I'll look
out for the remainder."
" I saw him strike you first," said tho
carpenter. " Nail him ! Knock his upper
rights from under him ! cross cut him until
he lies dormant I Til bet a basket of
shavings on you, old chap !"
" Plug him in the eye," said a tobacconist.
" Get a double twist on him, and tlien
chew him up. Don't let him stump you,
give him one on his nigger head !"
" Hit him between the eyes with your
JCiT" said the Printer, " show liim no 1-4's
till you 1-2 kill l.im ! batter his bold face
and knock his form into pi."
" What's the row ?" said the police, coming
up after every one was gone. " Show
lis a cliance to havo a grab at somebody
1"
DOMESTIC PIETY.
If there be one curse more bitter than another
to man, it is to bo the offspring of an
irregular home; of a home where the voice
of praise and prayer ascend not to God, and
where the ties of human affection arc not
purified and elevated by the refining influence
of religious feeling; of a homo to
which, if the cares or sorrows of life shall
bring religion to the heart in after days,
that heart cannot turn without bitterness
of feeling, without anguish and vexation
of spirit. If there be. a curse to any country
where the truths of religion are known,
the deepest and bitterest curso whioh
l<c inflicted on it is a multitude of homos
like the one which I have supposed. Such
homes send forth their sons unchecked in
evil thoughts, unhallowed in their habits,
and untaught in love of God: the name
and cross of Jessus Christ stamped on their
forehead, but not written in their hearts :
and they send them forth to prey upon the
land, and to become its curse and destruction.
But on the other hand, there i<* a
blessing to tho religious home, which no
longue can describe. The home where in
aarly years the heart is trained to a love of
Clod, and to take pleasure in his worship
iiid service, interwoven with tho existence
if many holy affections which die not with
the circumstances that gave them birth ?
which last long, though they may be for a
season forgotten and neglected, and which
i? ? -
....... bauitisu .?u icnal nuiuu chuck upon 1110
jvil of tho human heart, aud often, may,
commonly, recall it to hear again the word
if God, and turn to tho paths of holiness
*nd peace. How great, how unspeakable,
s the happiness of a land where homes
like this are common.?Rev. II. J. Rose.
A WARNING.
A few weeks since, in tho course of conversation
with an eminent broker, who has
been forty years acquainted with the leading
moneyed mon of the country, we asked
if he ever knew a 6cheracr, who acquired
money or position by fraud, to continue
iuccessful through life, and leave a fortune
at death. We walked together about three
minutes in silence, when he replied : " Not
vie! I have 6ecn men," he said, " become
rich as if by magic, and afterwards reach
% high position in public estimation, not
anly for honor and enterprise, but even for
piety, wnen some small circumstance, of no
apparent importance, Las led to investigations,
which resulted in disgrace nnd ruin."
On Saturday we ngain conversed with
him upon the same subject, and he stated
that since our last interview he had extend
ed his inquiries among a large circle of
Acquaintances, nnd with one solitary exception,
and that doubtful, their experi
ence was to the same effect ns bis own.?
He gave a brief outline of several small
and big schemers, and their tools, their
nse and fall. Suicide, murder, arson, and
peijury, he said, were common crimes with
many of those who made M haste to be
rich," regardless of the means; and, he
added, there are not a few men, who may
be seen on 'Change every day, ignorantly
striving for their destruction. It is not, he
said, so much the love of gold that leads
tnanir himinAM mnn aatrnv m tlm
be tbougbtsharp or successful. He concluded
(bat fortunes acquired without honesty
gttMcally overwhelm their posse mors
withttfcoy.?Bo*ton Mla$.
jy- l^aoini, tbo davgbtv 6l Enocb
SABBATH PUBLIC W0B8HIP.
No man can neglect it?
1. Without doing violcnco to a special,
divine preccpt, which is as obligatory today
as when it was first given to inon :?
" Thou shall keop my Sabbaths and reverence
my sanctuary."
2. This neglect puts ono in direct con
irariety ot character and habit to all the
wise and good men mentioned in tho Bible,
from Patriarch to Apostle.
3. And it puts him out of the company
and fellowship of the great body of the
wiso aud good from the Apostolic days to
ours.
4. It throws him out of the reach of influences
eminently suited to stimulate his
intellect, and excite and gratify a thirst for
knowledge, and thus make him a wiser
man.
f?. And influences for making him a better
man, a Christian and religious man, are
lost by this neglect, which influences are
among tho most precious and effective that
can bo found in our world ; influences appointed
by Infinite Wisdom, and most devoutly
acknowledged as good by all Christian
people.
C. This neglect of public worship strikes
a fatal blow at the Sabbath itself, which
must inevitably sink, unsustaincd by this
powerful agency in promoting due reverence
fur it.
7. This neglect is painful to all who are
sincerely desirous of seeing God glorified
in his own institutions, and the best temporal
and spiritual good of men promoted.
8. And said neglect gives countenance
and comfort to all persons wishing to cast
off religious restraint arid livo reckless of
all laws, human and divine.
9. Neglect of public worship shows a
light estimation and leads to disregard of
one of the most efficient of all agencies of
enlightening the public conscience, of imparting
the most important of all knowledge?the
knowledge of God and divine
things?of sustaining the general interests
of education, law and order among men,
repressing crime, and advancing virtue.
Certainly, then, a most heavy responsibility
is assumed by all persons who indulge
themselves in the ne'rlrr.f. of ?li?
?O ? I "V
worship of God.
^ ?
LIABILITIES TO DEATH BY LIGHTNING.
E. Meriain," lIih philosopher of Brooklyn
Heights," writes to the Now York Journal
of Commerce, as follows :
In some years, more persons arc killed
l?y lightning than in others. The year 1811)
had the fewest, and 1845 tho most, in any
one year in a term of thirteen years.
In the month of July, 1854, we recorded
thirty-nine deaths by lightning and thunder
6torms, within the field of our research, on
twenty-seven of tho thirty-one days of that
month.
Our record in the last fourteen years gives
an aggregate of seven hundred and fifty
deaths by lightning on tho land, one only
of whom wiis killed in a building furnished
with lightning conductors, and that one iu
the summer of 1855, at Little Prairie, Wisconsin.
In relation to this death, we have
had a considerable correspondence with the
person who put up tho conductor. There
were three buildings burnt by lightning
which were furnished with conductors, last
year?one was a barn in Westchester county,
another a dwelling house in Richmond,
Va., and the other the house of Mr. Van
Rensselaer, in St. Lawrencc county, New
York.
Our records continue to witness that in
no case lias there been Iosb of life by lightning
in steamboats, railroad ears, iron ships,
iron buildings, vessels furnished with metallic
conductors, or building furnished with
lightning rods, with the exception of the
house at Litlle Prairie, Wisconsin, named
above. Mute testimony, but conclusive,
that metals aro not dangerous, and that
lightning conductors afford protection to
life.
Use. Minutes.?It i6 asked, says Chauning,
how can tho laboring man find time
for 6eif-culture ? I answer that an earnest
purpose finds time. Seizing on spare moments,
it turns fragments into golden account.
A man who follows his calling with
industry and spirit, and uses his earnings
economically, will always find some portion
of the day at bis command. And it is astonishing
how fruitful of improvement a
short season becomes, when eagerly seized
1 .1 *1 ? - - ? '
i?iiu iitiiiiiuiiy useu. it uhs ouon uoen observed
that those who have the inost titao
at their disposal, profit by it tho least. A
single hour in the day given to some interesting
subject, brings unexpected accumulations
of knowledge.
?3T A witness was examined in a case
of slander bofore a Judge who required him
to repeat the precise words spoken. The
witness hesitated until he bad drawn the attention
of the audience; then fixing his
eyes earnestly upon the Judge, he began :
"May it please your honor, you lie, you
steal, you get your living by stealing."?
The face of the Judge reddened, and be interrupted
the witness by exolaiming, "Turn
to the jury, sir." '
? * ?
JE2T " Sam, why you no tell your massa
to lay him up treasures in Hebbin P?
"Why for, Cuff! What de use ob him
i? j? _?? i?
jay uf wdoouio uvio, truer 0 110 DflDDCT 00
more see um agin, cb; nigger t"
VAPORGRAPHIC GLASSES.
An ingenious person may afford no end
of amusement to himself and friends by the
aid of a few dozen vaporgraphic glasses, on
which are invisibly delineated a variety of
I questions and answers of an appropriate
I character, such as love questions, conundrums,
drc. lieal dissolving views may also
| be depicted on these glasses, possessing an
I interest according to their artistic value,
j Glass valentines may also bo made in tho
i samo way, which may have invisibly iinI
pressed upon them any written theme, poo;
try, or initials.
Breathe on thiH glass, and you'll divine
The portrait of your Valentine.
I i no vaporgrapliie glasses are very easily
; inado and at a cost not worth mentioning.
When finished, they have nothing peculiar
in their appearance to indicate their lalont
graphic powers; hence, to a stranger to tho
mystery, they only appear ljIcq ordinary
glass. The secret is tins: Procure a few
pieces of window glass, about the size of
an ordinary playing card; then \vrite or
draw on them whatever may be thought
proper with a quill pen that has been dipped
in hydrofluoric acid, using this watery
liquid just as you would in(c. After iho
design has thus been depicted upon the glass
for about two minutes, the glasses are to bo
washed in clean water, and polished with a
silk handkerchief, or a dry soft cloth. Tho
drawing or writing will now be perfectly
invisible, but if breathed upon the pictures
, or letters, become " as clear as noonday."
I The same effect is observed if tho glasses
I he held over tho stiem of hot water; hence
their name, vapor, or steam j graphic, rela;
ting to writing. Hydrofluoric m-irl n? i?
j eats iulo glass, is sold in leader bottles by
j the labojatyj ian chemists. Septimus Piesse.
?Scientific Atnerican.
A Touching incident.?The saddest story
that wo ever read was that of a little child
in Switzerland, a i >t boy, just as yours
is, reader, whom his mother, one bright
j morning, rigged out in a beautiful jacket all
j shining with gilt and buttons, and gay as a
mother's love could make it, and then permitted
him to go out to play. lie had
scarcely stepped from the door of the Swiss
i uottage, when an enormous eagle scooped
liim from the earth and bore him to his nest,
liigh up among tlie mountains, and }?ct within
sight of the house of which he had been
the joy. There he was killed and devoured,
the eyiie being at a point which was literally
inaccessible to man, so that uo relief
! could be afforded. In tearing the child to
! picocs, the eagle so placed his gay jacket
| in the nest that it became a fixture there,
and whenever the wind blew it would flutter,
and the sun would shine upon its lovely
trimmings and ornaments. For years it
was visible from the low lands, long after
the eaglo had abandoned the nest. What
a sight it must have been to the parents of
the victim.
j Study of Mankind.?In order to love
mankind, expect but little from them ; in
order to view their thoughts without bitterness,
we must accustom ourselves to pardon
them, and to pcrceivo that indulgence is a
justice which frail humanity has a right to
demand from wisdom. Now, nothing
tends more to dispose lis to indulgence, to
close our hearts against hatred, to open
them to the principles of a humane and
soft morality, than a profound knowledge
of the human heart. Accordingly the
wisest men have always been the most indulgent.?Jiulvcr.
Courtesy.?No inan is a gentleman, who.
without provocation, would treat with incivility
the humblest of his species. It is
a vulgarity for which no accomplishment
or dress can ever atone. Show ino th?
man who desires to make every one happy
around him, and whoso greatest solicitudeis
never to give just cause of offeuce to any
one, and I will show you a gentleman by
nature and practice, although be may never
have worn a suit of broad-cloth, or even
have heard of a lexicon.
ftZff" A young and pretty girl stepped
into a store where a spruce young man wba
had long been enamored of her but daro
not speak, stood behind the counter selling
dry goods. In order to remain as long as.
possible, she cheapened everything. At
last she said:
" 1 believe you thluk I am cheapening
you."
"Oh no," said the youngster, "to roe
you are always fair."
" Well," whispered the lady, blushing as
she laid an emphasis on the word, "I would
not stay no long bargaining, if you wero
not so Dear."
tST An old lady who did not know
whether her plantation was in Virginia or
ixortb uaroitna, found when the lino whs
drawn, that she was a resident of the Tormer.
44 Wal," said she, MI am glad I don't
live in North Carolina! It -was always
such a sickly State!"
X3T A beautiful thought this, which we
find in one of oqr exchanges; 44If theft
is n man who can eat hip bread in peace
with God and man, it is the man who has
brought th'at bread out of the earth. It is
cankered by no fraud, it is wet by no tears f
it is stained by no blood*
I i ? i i
g3T Ceremony is necessary as the
work and defence of roanooR),