The Abbeville banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, October 06, 1859, Image 1
??? In; "(I mm _ i ' k n fr r.?ir.- * f 71^'' ^ ^ ifii
TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM.] "THH FHIOS OP LXBEHTV xm btshnaxi vianiANdn." [PAYABLE IN ADVANCE
BY DAVIS & CREWS. ABBEVILLE, S; C., THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER C, 1859. VOL. XVI ::NO. si
A UfMDlTH T TTDDn I
naij n fiftVi
It was a cold dark night in December
and tbe wiud blew along the slushy London
streets; the blazing lights in the
butchers' shops in Clare market wared
about like infernal banners. The policeman
stood stiffly up in the doorways for
shelter; and we who were snugly ensconsed
in the house surgeon'e room of old St.
fcarnabas. were perhaps tbo only people
comfortable in the parish of St. Clemeu1
Danes. Our party consisted of Drown,
(we'll call him Brown,) myself and a 6mali
thin man culled Jourdan. How small and
fragile ho looked as lie sat oil tho arm of
the old horse-hair sofa, discussing with
Brown and myself a question in physiology.
How red the spots grew over liis
cheek-bones, and how his cough rattled
as he called Mailer, Kullikur and Scroeder
von der Kolk to witness that he was
right, and wo two signally and miserably
wrong.
1 Well, so bo it,'said I at last. 'IIow
the wind howls. It must matter but little
to these poor neighbors of ours under
tho Adelphi arches whether their sensory
nerve fibres can be traced upward from
tho posterior columns of tho cord or
not. For my own part, I don't believe
a?'
4 Wliat!' shrieked JourJan,' when Wag*
nor lias demonstrated that'?
'Ob, please, sir,'said a nurse, bouncing
into the room, ' that man in tliu TopWard
lias got out of bed and is jumpin'
mad.'
4 Well, make him go back again,1
I can't sir. He's got tlio crutch from
the patient in the next bed, aud I daren't
near him.'
lleigh ho!' said Jourdun, 4jt is always
thus in our profession. Wo just taste ,
occaasionally the sweets of scientific ;
discussion, when wo have to leave them
for the disiruslino- tniictip.nl annliMiinnt'
O O I* "11 |
Up stairs we went, past wards where <
the sufferers were most of them forgetting ;
in sleep the distresses to which they would <
presently awukc. All was quiet iu the old (
hospital, save the howl of the wind and <
Jourdan's cough. * Confound the pedantic i
little chap,' I thought to myself; 4 he'll |
weaken that operation case.' One more i
stairs to climb, and we reached the Top
ward, whore there was unusual excitement;
the patients silling up in their beds, the
poor follow with the heart disease, the
consumptive, the dropsical patient, all
watching a tall, stalwart figure, standing
in a flannel night-gown, with his back to
the Are, leaning with his chin on a crutch*
and evidently in deep thought. Directly
he saw us, lie shouldered the said piece of
timber, if not to show how fields were won,
to give us as good a representation as
circumstances would allow of how he intended
winuin (f illG (lfcld oil the iuoq I
cut occasion. Wisk came the handle over
iny head, as I ducked and escaped the
blow.
* My good man,' said Brown,4 now do
go into bed. Is there anything I?'
Wisk came the crutch over our heads,
and as we ducked, the maniac leaped rap
idly past us from bed to bed, gained the
door, and ere we had time to intercept him,
ho was in the patsage.
In the ceiling of the passage just outside
this door was a trap Which led out upon '
the roof; it was not far from the floor.
With the activity of madness, he leaped,
caught the edge of the trap, swung himself
up, and was upon the roof. We looked at
cach other.
Here's a business,' says Brown,' he'll be
down in the street in a twinkling, for he'll
never stand against this wind.
t i,*r? a
- vv uai a mess we shall get into ? was my
selfish thought. We got a pair of steps,
and getting up them put our heads out of
the trap. The moon was shining bright,
but the wind was shrieking through the
old stacks of chimneys, and now and then
a tile detached would slide down the roof
and drop into the street.
4 By Jore,'6ays Brown, he must have
fallen ; I can't ace biin anywhere. Let me
look. Ah, there good heavens! how conld
be have got there, right at the end of this
pointed old roof, covered with tlippery
Across tliis, in tlie moonlight, we could
see a long rlindow, and what I at first took
to be a chimney stalk, was the madman,
standing gazing on the moon. At each
gust of the fierce wind his body swayed
as though he would fall; but there he stood
in all the sublimity and strength of mania
gazing at that planet whose supposed influence
orer such unfortunates as himself, Las
given its name to the most awful of
maladies. What could we do? The nurses,
tho porters were assembled at the foot
of tho steDB. Our feelin<*
? - ? ? | - q ??" wj/wuoi uiill'jr
was intensely painful. An exclamation, a
adden noise, might send the poor wretcb
tumbling into the street. What- ware we
to do f I felt something push by me on the
ateps, and then, for the first time, noticed
that Jourdan had rejoined oe. A paroxysm
of coughing bad kept him below stairs
when Brownand I hurried into the
ward. I saw bi? eyes sparkling, and
beard his rough breathing as the iitllo fei*
low said!
4 Ilold these,' and put a pair of balf
Wellingtons into my bands. Was be
mad, too, taking off bis boots in such a
place 2*
4 Why, Jourdatij what?'
*IIush?' said he, ris bd htlsed himsell
through tho trap and Btood on the roof
We now saw ho was going to seiee the
madman.
The latter, as I have said, was tt tall
stout man in a stato of acuto mania ; out
frieud was diminutive, and his naturally
small frame was wasted by diseaso. lie
got on the sharp apex of the sloping roof;
a blast of wind came> and down he
went but he caught something, raised himself,
and walked along, liko one on a tight
rope.
The madman does not seem to notice
him. We watch them both, and our hearts
beat not only with anxiety but shame.
The possibility of such a fato never had
entered our own imaginations. Now ho
nears the maniac; who notices him turns half
round, and throws his arms up in defiance.
Hilt mi .Iniir/lnn nr.\/ic Tlmif
? ... w.. u VUIui?h j^wv.o, x uvii oiniuun a nuw
mingle on tlic roof. Tlic wind sccnis to
howl louder, aud our eyes less able to distinguish
objects.
'Great Heaven! they're down,' said
Brown, squeezing my arm, ns something
rattled over the roof.
No?it waa only a tile.
What aro they doing? They aro nearer
us now?Jourdan walked wearily backwards,
and leading the maniac, whom he
had grasped by the breast of his night
shirt. Still are these mad hands held out
threateningly over the frail figure guiding
him to safely. They reach the trap1
Brown and I descended the steps to make
room for this strange pair. Down they
come. We seizo the great mad arms
and nin them down, and nut Urn man fn
bed.*
AVe turn to look for Jourdan, lio is quietly
pulling on lils boots again ; and so we
all return ro the house-surgeon's room.
I shall not trouble the reader with any
moral reflections, which he may draw, as
well as mjself, from tliis little adventure,
t'oor Jourdan's brave spirit is now, I trust,
where be obtains a clearer insight into those
;reat truths he so enthusiastically investi"
rated in his short and useful life. The pa.ient
whose life he saved was only suilcring
from temporary mental excilemeut, aud is
now a strong and useful man.
The Painter and the Prince.? Frank
Leslie's News tells the following capital
" Rowland for an Oliver" anccdotc, as of
recent occurrence in New York :
Some few days since Judge Whitley was
subpoenaed as a witness in the Forest case.
His old acquaintance. l'rincA .Tnlin V.-m
Huron, was tlio examining counsel. The
Judge, who now and then aims at the facetious,
was asked by the Prince what bis
occupation was.
" Oh," said he, I'm a painter, poet, politician,
justicc of the peace, editor?in a word,
a Jack of all trades."
" Put that down," said the Prince.?
"Jack of all trades."
" Excuse me," replied the Judge, 44 that
was a mere pleasantry. I protest against
your putting that down."
4,I insist," retorted the pertinacious Prince
and it was duly entered that Thomas W.
Whitley confessed to being a Jack of all
trades.
I a few minutes afterwards the facetious
Jack of all trades had his revenge on the
Princely Jack of all parties ; for, upon his
asking how it was that Whitley was so
snre he was in Buffalo in 1848, the sarcastic
Jersey Justice said, in a most emphatic
manner :
41 Becuse I had then the pleasure of hearing
Mr. John Van Buren make liis famous
freesoil speech!"
A laugh from the spectators greeted the
retort, vthlfe the Prince groaned inwardly.
Prelty hard Icc.?Deacon Johnson is
a great temperance man, and sets a good
example of total abstinence as far lie is seen.
Not long sinco he employed a carpenter to
make some alterations in his parlor, and repairing
the corner near the fire-place it vtos
found necessary to remove the wainscoting,
when lo! a discovery was made that astonished
everybody. A brace of decanters,
a tumbler, and a pitcher, wore cozily reposing
there as if they had stood there from
the beginning. The Deacon was summoned,
as he beheld the blushing bottles ho exclaimed,?
Wa'll, I declare, that is curious, 8iiro
enough. It must be that old Bains left
them when he went out of this house thirty
years ago.'
Perhaps he did/ returned the carpenter*
'bat, deacon, the ice in the pitcher must
have been froze mighty hard lo stay all this
time.*
If tliou hope to pleiise all, thy hopes are
vain: if thou fear to displease some, thy
feare are idle. The way to please thyself
is not to displease the best: and the way
to displease (he best, is to please the most.
If thmi canst foebion thyself to please ailf
thoo shalt displease Him who is all in all
V-W'
Coaxing the Bear.?"My Jove," said
Mrs. Foozle to her husband"oblige me
with a five dollar note today, to pwrcbase
a nnvv ilrno *
"Shan't do any socfc thing, Kate?yon
called mo a hear yesterday."
"Lor, love, that was nothing, I meant
that you were fond of bugging.*
"You litile?I have no ftre^Jtuit here's
a. tea."
THE F0ET8 OF SCOTLAHD. ]
f There is no country in tho world which
possesses a richer treasury of natioual poe- j
i try than Scotland, or a nobler array of il- (
lustrious bards. Tho name of Uurns, j
Scott, Campbell, and others, will ever be as j
household words. There is, likeVriaej a f
host of poets of losser note, whose names j
i could tiot bo enumerated, who have added ,
many gems to Scotland's natural minstrelsy, j
i In the national lyrics of Scotland We see n ]
pure and affectionate spirit, and could easily t
gather from them, had we no other records, N
that they proceeded from a simple, honest, t
strong-minded, independent, hospitable, and ?j
happy people. Tho 60ugs of a nation gen- c
erally indicate the national virtues. A do ]
graded, slavish, and sensual nation could n
i never give utterance to manly, vigorous sen- c
i timents. The Scottish songs grasp all that is (
interesting in human feeling and passion, t
They duscribeatid fix deeply on tho memory n
those localities which have been the scene a
of memorable transactions, or are hallowed tl
t>y some romantic tradition. The poetic si
? ?i?i: -? - . - -
oviir.va vjii lllc UlV?rSlllOU SCC11CS Ol (pllCt [l
lovelines and wild grandeur with which Scot n
lanad bounds. The rugged mountain lifts its si
giant head amid the clouds?the lake S
gleaming at its foot like a diamond?tho h
roaring waterfall?the winding river and g
the fertile valley, all come forth glowing in it
immortal verso?things of beauty to the p
heart, and joys for ever. si
The national songs reflect the many sided d
character of the Scottish people. They tl
give tho diflerent shades of their original- h
ity, and their humor, as well as traits of /
their outward peculiarities and habits. They ii
reveal the deepest workings of the heart: o
its hopes, its joys, its cares, its suflferings( t<
and its loves. They arc called out of the w
wildest depths of feeling, out of the wild- g
est drflntrin /if fntinn ?i.o ? 1 *
?? v. iih.uj , mo luvciicot tuuugnis v
are twined around then), and tlio fondest 5s
memories grow bfight and clear iu their n
light. S
There are songs in tho Scottish minstrel, si
ay so noble in their sentiments that they It
can rouse the soul to the highest pilch of d
patriotism; there ale songs so tend** ifi tl
their associations as to make the strohg ri
man weep; there are songs so truly woeful si
in their story as to flood the mind with a j>
very sea of sadness; there are songs so h
homely in their description of domestic o
bliss that an atmosphere of socal happiness w
seems to float around them; and there are ?
songs so quaint in their humor, or so 11
bold in their fun, as to " set the table in a "
roar." Si
It is good for the world that songs can- S!
not be selfishly appropriated. They can n
be enjoyed equally by the loftiest and the c:
lowliest. Neither are they for one time.? ^
There are songs which have come down to P
us, after having cheered, consoled, and a
charmed those who were before us, and w
they will descend with younger com- a
panions, in t-e fullness of their power, to d
gladden and soothe future generations.? b
Once learned, songs keep a singular liold
on the memory. Even in old age, when
the most important transactions of life are r<
forgotten, snatches of songs swell up in the
remembrance like sudden gushes of an al- ?
most exhausted fountain. In every sltua* tc
tion songs and tuues come uuhidden to the s'
mind, foi we cannot be always aware of
what brings them up ; and song, by making
the heart cheerful, lightens labour. 8
What a mysterious power a simple
metbdy and a few simple worda exercise l<
over the heart I
"Songs of my native land, cl
To me how dear! p
Songs of my infancy, j?
Sweet to mine ear! jl
Entwined with my youthful days, .
Wi' the bonny banks and brae# "
Where the winding btrmfc strays,
Murmuring near, K
Strains of my native land, h
Tlmt thrill the soul,
Pouring tho magic of ^
Your soft control!
Often hfll&A -titl'lir minairniai ?
Soothed the pang of misery, d
Winging rapid thoughts awny 1)
To realms on high." fi
. ? ? ^
Warning to Serenaders.?A young gentleman
of a musical turn of mind one night n
serenaded'his Dulcinea, aided and abetted t!
therein by a patlf of deluded friends. Cl
4 Next day be visited the acreriaded fair one. 8I
Iler eyes,' ho says, betrayed the fact that 8
'she had pasted a sleepless night, and with R
a palpitating heart, we tendered our hyp- ''
ocritical sympathy.' Ob, Mr. yawn- ^
ed the lady 'there was micb a noise in the e
street last night! Some polfoertiGft were r<
taking an intoxicated colored man to the 61
8tation houBe, and he screamed and swore
so dreadfully, just m (bey eame in front of
our door, tliat the whole neighborhood was l'
aroused. The policemen seemed to eapos- 8'
tulate with him in vain, and it must have ^
been an hour before they could get him P
awny P Just then the gent remembered ^
?!._? l._ l.j ?; ? - -
iuai> n?3 uau h hick irtemi near by1, nml tfrtt c
to see biro at once. ^
?t<
SmitTr and Crown trmrt'wg opposite w?j8 a
round a cornrcr struck each other/ h
41 Oli, dear," ??id fchrritb, " bow you made ri
rrry bead, ring." vv w
"That's a sign tbat its hc/ftcritf sarird ft
Brown.. ' p
44 Don't year's ttngf said Smith. \
"No." n
, " That's ? ?ig? its cracked" !<
REV. MR. 8PUBGE0N ON THE NEWSPAPE!
The llcv. C. II. Spurgeon, in depositin;
jottlo in tlio foundation atono of his n<
;hurch building In London, said : Tl
jottle contained Mot the curreilt Coins
lie lealm, for they had none of them
spare. It contained no newspapers,
loweVcr much they might appreciate t
icwspapcr press, they still thought it in;
iropiiato to place papers in such a pla
t contained the Bible?[loud choc rsJ
he old-fashioned Baptist Confession of Fa
vhich was signed by Benjamin l\ea<
heir former pastor; tho declaration of l
loflpniil tvliw.K 1?? 1 - - 1
..uivii IK1U HUiHU ll'tUI, Wi lli
in parchmcnt ; an edition of f?r. Kippo
Iymn Hook, as published before he die
nd, lastly, a programme of that day's p:
codings. [Cheers. | These would bo
he perusal Mew Zealander, who was losit
he luins of London bridge, when this gr<
ation had gone to decay, if over it d
nd if such were the case he had no doll
bat they would eventually be stored up
ome Australian or American museum.
Cheers and laughter.] The reverend gent
lan then duly deposited the bottle in t
Lone. At a meeting in tho evening ^
purgcon said, Dr. Campbell, it appear
ad been misled into making another c
ngemeut for the day, owing to a stateme
i nit! papers as 10 mc ceremony bun
ostponed in conscquenco of tlic builde
Lrikc. Mr. Spurgeoti said that the revere
octor as ah editor, should have learned
lis time not to believe everything vvlii
0 saw in the papeis. [Loud laughter.]
it any rate, his friend ought not to belie
1 those paragraphs unless ho knew of I
wn knowledge that they were true. [Lang
ir and cheers.] For his own part, he on
rished he could compel the papers to ma
ood their statements, except when tin
rere abusing him. [Cheers and laughtei
ome of the papers had discovered that
lagnificent fortune had been left him, [V
purgeon] of which, however, lie had Lit
slfno knowledge whatever. [Cheers ai
uighter.] ITc could only say, that he won
ivide the dividends of that fortune anionj
:i6 editofs of those papers. [Laughte
lie fact was that no mm lm.1 l..f? liim
xpence. [Hear, bear.] Unt if lie mig
idge by tbo headache and weariness whi
e felt at that moment, it seemed as if sor
ne was thinking of it. [Laughter.] But
'odd say to such a one, "Don't do anythii
f the kind." [Laughter.] IIo approved
linisters getting a good salary fur prcac
lg; and in this respect ho would cordial
?y that he was for his own part perfccl
itisGed?[cheers]?but if ever any one li
nnisters a large sum of money, they go
rally lost their voice, or got an attack
ronchitis, or something of that sort, whit
ut an end to their preaching. [Hear, her
nd cheers.] Ueverting to the Press, 1
ould say that he cared not how th
Hacked him or attempted to combat 1
octrine, he would come out all the stfonge
ut when the Press began to praise hi
ien he felt the necessity of Diviue suppc
> keep him humble. [Hear, hear.] T
jverend gentleman concluded by thankii
jo Crystal Palace Company fof the lo
f their chairs, when he had applied in Yf
) some of the neighboring places of w<
lip for the loan of their forms.
m ?
Battle of "\Vutertoo.?The following si
ular anecdote is told in emmnoimn
lis battle, in the Jtov. James White's H
sry of France;
"It was a Sunday: and while all I
liurch-bells in Englaud were calling t
eople to prayer, the cannonadocommenc
Ivery body was in expectation of a batt
t was known in England that Napole
ad crossed over into the Netherlands, ai
lat Wellington was ready to meet hi
fews was slow of coming, and peopli
carts were sick with the expectation
te next mail. It chanced that botwc
le services on that eventful Sunday,
lergyman in kent was walking in his gj
en. His gardener was an old soldier wi
ad fought in Spain. He said : 'There's
ght goirtg on sir, somewhere ; for I r
leinb6r when we were in the Peninsul
re always knew when a cannonado w
iKing piace, wirerovef rt might No, by
rumbling of fresh mould.' IIo took
jade and dug down a single foot, ai
long the smooth sifrfaco left by the st<
n imperceptible trempling shook doi
ttle pellets of the soil. 'That's it, si
lid the gardener, 'theyW at it, su
nough.' Before tlio nelt Sunday cai
>und, the news had spread from end
ad of the sea cjirt isle."
?? -- t> * m ?
Saving Time.- A clergyman, who eflj?
lie substantial benefits of a fine farm, w
lightly taken dowry, a few days ago, 1
is Irish plow mart, Mho was silting at 1
low, in a tobacco field, resting his horse,
'lie reverend gentloman, -being a great
uritmiiBi, mnu wun grenrt scrroTfsnesS
fohn, wouldn't *it bo a good plan ior v
j have a stub scythe liere and be hrtbbi
few bushes alung the fisnc6 while t
orse is resting V John, with quite an h
icus a counloiKico as thediviive vtote liiTi
slf, replied ; 'Woirld rroi it be wetl, a
>r you to have a tub o1 potatoes in t
ulpit, and when they are singing, to pi
ini awhile to.be ready for the pot?' T
svcrend gentleman laughed heartily a
!ft.
R3. THE PSALMS OF DAVID.
5 a Tho last Psalm ctlds with a chorus to
iw the pnliSo of God, in which tho poot calls
i?it oh all people; on all IttstHirtibnts di' sacrcd
of inlisiti, all the elements and all the stars to
to join; Sublimo/r'nafc of that opera of sixty
Tor years, sung by tllo shepherd, the hero, the
h<J king, rind tho old inan !
'P" In this closing J'sahh we see tho almost
c0, inarticulate enthusiasm of tho lyric poet;
so rapidly do tho words press to his lips,
u" floating upwards towards (!od their source,
like the smoke of a great lire of the soul
',0 wafted by the tempest here ! Here we see
u" David; ol* ralher the human heart itsoll, j
n s W illi all ils t?od-given notes ol' grieff joy i
l' > highest expression ; a vasu of perfume !
ro" broken on ihe steps of the temple, and j
'or sheddiiig abroad ils odors from the hoarL |
0,1 of David lo ihe heart of all humanity ?
',lt Hebrew, Christian, or even Manommedan?
every religion, every complaint every prayer
^ has takeufroiii this vase shed on the heights
m of Jerusalem, wherewith to give forth their
accents. The little shepherd has become the
'e master of the sacred choir of the Univeise.
'1C There is not a worship on earth which prays
'r' not with his words, or sings not with his
voice. A chord of his barn is to be found in I
11 all choirs, resounding cveiy where an J for
nl ever in unison with the echoes of lloreh
and Engaddi! David is the Psalmist of
rs .
^ eternity ; what a destiny?what pt)wer
hath poetry when inspired by Ood.
hy
cj, As for myself, when my spirit is excited,
or devotional, or sad, and seeks fur ah
ro echo to its enthusiasm, its devotion, its
,j3 meiahcholy, I do not open l'indar, or IIorace,
llaiiz, those purely academic poets ;
|y neither do I find myself murmuring to exjjg
press my emotion. I open tho book of
jy l'saltus, and there I llnd words which seem
r.J to issue from the soul of ages, and which
a penetrate even to tho heart of all genera[r.
tions. llappy the hard who has become
11. tho eternal hymn, the personilicd prayer
nt| and complaint of all humanity! If wc
,hl look back to that period when fsuch songs
r5(, resounded over tho world, if wo consider
rtJ that while tliey only sang of wine, love,
a blood, and the victories of coursers at tho
lit games of Elidus, wc are seized with proch
found astonishment at the mystic accent of
no Llio shepherd prophet, who speaks to God
he tlio Creator, as one friend to another, who
ig understands and praises His great works,
of admires His jnsliec, implores Ilis mercy,
ill- and becomes, as it were, antieipative echo
tly of the evangelical poetry, speaking the soft
!y words of Christ before His coming.?
eft l'rophet or not, as ho may be considered
n- by Christians, or skeptics, none can deny
dt in t':e poet-king an inspirati? n granted to
jli no other. Head Greek or Latin poetry afir,
ter lValms, and see how palo it looks.'?
be Lamar tine.
The Iiuliun IIcll and Heaven.?Tho doir
? ceased Indian has, according to them, a long
m> journey to take towards tho west, until be
)r1, comes to a deep rushing river, which sepak?
rates him from the htfp'py hftnting grount?s.
The twtf sfiores of this river are connected
Ktr o I r\v\ r* rvi nA 4 J
mjj Ik iuii^ |/HIU I.IUIIA} Obi UI Uitl IV HUU
1,0 polished, which must bo used as a bridge.
>r" The good man passes with a firin and secure
step across this slippery bridge, roaches the
happy hauling grounds, and enters on the
In" possession of eternal youth and strength;
His sky is always clear, a cool breeze is
ls" perpetually blowing for him, and he passes
his" Ihtfe frr Bailing, hunting, dancing, and
boundless felicity. The bad frian, when lie
^ie steps upon the bridge, sees the two overhanging
shores totter, he alterfipts to ea'e*
cape, and falls into the abj3s bfelb'w, where
on tlie water is ftfshfng with tho sound of
thunder over rocks ; where the air is
m* poisoned by the exhalations from dead fish
e s and other animal bodies, and tie water
whirling round and round, brings him alon
ways back to the same point where all tho
a trees are withered ; where it swarms with
ir* lizards, snakes, and toads : where the dead
'*6 are htfngry, nrtd have Aothirtg to eat * where
1 a the living fend a diseased life and cannot
e~ die. The shores are covered with thousands
ar of these unhappy beings, wh^ climb tfp
as to get a glance into (he happy hunting
a grounds, which thoy can never enter.
*
ni* Man and Woman.?Stan is strong?
*e' woman is beautiful. Man is daring in con.
vu duct?woman is diffident and u nassuming
Man shin&s abroad?woman at ^lome
ro Man talks to convince?woman to perduado]
no and pleaso. Man has ft tugged heart?
to woman a soft and tcrtdcr ono. lifan pro
vents misery?woman relives it. Wan has
scfertco?woman, tast#. Man has judg
merrt?worrtaYr, senstbifity. itjfnn is a being
m of justice?woman, of morcy.
by - ' ,
"S A little mcidcrtt occtfrred M one of the
schools in West fjynn on Wednesday, says
?~ - ? t-! -i J - ....
me jireruBt vrniuii in, perunps, world relating.
Opo of ihe classes wero rcciting, and tlio
teacher asked a littlo American mrl HUo
nor r ?
tlio first man was. Sim answered that she
did not know. Tlie qircstruiV *as put to >
^ thft nojft stfltofnrf, art Irish child, who anjr
hwcre.r?
ho 4 Afirain, air,? with apparent salmfao.
if. / i'i'-U\u
2CI tion.
'La,' saitf tile ?rst scholar,* j-ou nfeddn't
n<* feel so grand about -it* h? wasn't rut Ir~
isJunan! ' 1
V
APHORISMS.
If brevity be llle soiil of wit, tlio finest
fdrlii of tViliStlib a^horiain. liiit, tinforlu
nately lot tli'o trlith dr tHo saying, brevity
is only tli'o boviy, and wit itself is the soul.
The aphorism in, thercfol'o, the most suggestivo
form of cxphesSidn olilv, and may
dr may not contain either wit or wisdom.
As great minds generally learn lo con
dense and acquire a lively appreciation of
the merits of strength above voluminous*
ness, this brief form of eSpivsrioii has
unanimously been ehbseli bv most great
writers, in which to give vent to their more
forcible ideas. The result is, thai literature
abounds in terse, sharp sayings; of two or
three lines only, which rjally c??;ilaiti hall
the wi.-doin that poiVadcs t!:o whole ma<*s
of published matter.
I'.in it is greatly to be regretted that the
aphorism is the most Lli:ii?lcK'?s, as well as
most difficult ami lofiV stylo or writing.?
The immense demand of the newrpaper
press fur brief sentences to fill iij> odd corners,
popularize such scraps of thought to
an extraordinary extent, yet gives the utterer
no credit for his labors. A long article,
which is more exhaustive than suggestive,
is nearly always copied under llio
signature which it first apppoars with ; but
the jewel of wisdom, clipped at random
from the first book at hand, goes forth
without parentage. One of tile truest
and most powerful aphorisms wo reniem*
ber, is: ' In their errand actions, men show
themselves; in their litlle ones, the)* tat
themselves bo seen !' This is familiar to
every one. It has been copied hundreds
of times to fill up a vacacy of two lines at
the bottom of a newspaper column ; yet
how many are there who can name its author?
Not one in fifty who hitVo read it!
We have met with it again and again, but
never discovered whence >tr tine, originally,
until we happened to find it in tho form of
a reflection, in one of Alphonsc Karr's
pleasant stories.
Lacon, Rochefoucauld, and others, have
furnished many of these, which are known
to all of uh, but which none can place
save those who attentively read the works
of their authors. If every editor who selected
and aphorism from its parent source
would place the name of its writer after it,
tho eft eel would be most oncouaaging to
men of ideas ; and the reading world bo
less troubled by having to wade through
whole pages in order to get at a thought
iniit migm nave been much better told in
ten words.
Physioynomy nf Good Livers.?Gourmands
by predestination are generally of
the middle height: they have round ofsquare
faces (carre), sparkling eyes, small
forehead, short nose, full lips and round
chins. Tho women are dimpled, pretty
rather than handsome, with and incllnatiofi
to embonjtoint. Those who are especially
addicted to good eating have finer feature*
a more refined appearance ; they are more
miynonncs, and are distinguished by a peculiar
manner of their own in swallowing.
Under this exterior, the most amiable dinner-companions
are to be fcWnd j
partake of overv dish handed to them, eat
slowly, and taste with reflection. They are
in no hurry to leave the spot whero tfiey
have been well entertained, find you have
them for the rest of the evening, because
they are aware what games and amusements
are to tuliavt th6 ordinary accessories
of a grtstfonofnic meeting. Those, on the
contrary, to whom nature lias denied an aptitude
for the orjoyineiits of taste, iiave
long faccs, long noses, anil long eyes ; no
no matter what their stature, there is something
longHfldfrial about iffciri. '/hey have
sleek black hair, and are thin and lanky ;
it Is tliey who invented trou?er?. Women
whom nature has similarly afflicted, aro angulous,
yawn at dinner, and live upon
whist and bcandal. The inclination of liie
fair sex for good living is a natural instinct,
because it is favorable to tlifcir i^ood look*.
A' series of observations have convinced mc
that ladies who livo well remain young
much longdr than otliers. Tt gives more
brilliancy to the eve. more freshness to
the skin, more support to tlie muscles;
awl, as physiology b?fs proved tfttft tlie
depression of th6 tfiffsdes causes wrinkles,
thoso dreaded Cnertiiea of beauty, it is al*.o
true, taking all on ao etyual footing, that
tlio ladies who koo'\V h'<AV 16* 6at aVc, comparatively,
ten years younger than thfcse
who are ignorant on the subject.?lirillulSavarbxs
Art rrf Dining.
ffai/s te Kind to IJtrtir Slaters.?You
may Ifae Co be oU<, And nover find such
louder, loving Mends as thews sisleis.?
Thihk how many tilings they do foi1 yorf?
how they love you in spite of nil your ill
temper or rudei'>ft& f6 (Item. He ever
ready to oblige tliemf?la ffetfotm any lit tlo
office for tbern that fres fn your power.
Tbink wliat you can do fo* thci'n ; and if
tbey express a Wfstt, fcb ready to grnlify ft
if possible. -You do not know bow much
happiness yotf vffll finif irt bo dfofug. t never
yet kuew a happy ntiif i'eapfceled man
Ubtf riot irt fm yoi\tfi tin J 16 hi& sistcjf.
There is ft beautiful ?ong which any* f
"fee kind to'yoiir sister?not many may know
.. tflie depti of trao sietcrly loVc ; ;
The wealth of tho occan lies fathom* ftfclOW
THie stfrfacc (lVu/t aintffcAjs alWfe.'* '
TEMPLE OF rtEftlJfcRAit
Tllo tetliple ol' I-endeiah fa til oil5 For containing
representations of the Zodiac, is not
of the earliest Egyptian architecture, but bolongs
to tlie little of tlio Ca-sars. Its columns
nt-c Uiigi.ieeful, ami the sculpture, in
tlio liiain pail of the biiilJiilg; Is coarso and
mutch defaced. It is consecrated to Atliortlio
Kgvptian Aphrodite: .Cleop'atr.i and her
son are sovehd tiiS'es rather rudely sculpHired
on the outer wall, fine is curious
to know wether these portraits li'ear any
resemblance to thin celebrated wom in. Iii
point ol beauty, tliev do not compare with
the round, plump facu of the goddess, whni
is it* le than ii hundred times represented;
This, like all tlio temples we have seen,
is divided into various apartments, and,
while exploring them, 5 became separated
from the rest of our psitry. Following tlio
Arab guide, and attunded by one of our
boatmen, we camc to an aperture iu tho
wall. The guide, pointing to it, said,'
"Qttiesc" (pretty) ft was enoiigh. In 111y
eager curiosity to seo what was there, I
mentioned to him to fo in mwl
n VI Itnicu III
after him. Here we entered a passage, not
inoro than tlueo feet wide; aud perhaps
twelve feel high, perfectly dark, running the
whole length of the building. I was tod
tnutoli engrossed by the extreme beauty of
the sculptures covering the walls on eitficr
side, which I oouM see distinctly by tho
light of iffo torch, to think of my insolated
condition, and continued groping my way,"
until we unexpectedly came to a flight of
stairs that led below. The guido was going
uiu in^ courage was not equal to that.'
Dungaons aiul bones arose before mo?the
air became suffocating?I made signs tTitfi
I wished to return to get riiy breath, and i
scarcely need say that I returned at a pretty
rapid pace.
Securing tho protection of Miss t>., (who
docs not know tliat companionship is protection
?) 1 re-entered, and wo feasted
amidst the curious representation of gods
and goddesses (the chief of whom was the
pretty Atho'r.) and tho kings who were making
offerings to them. Tho stairs whichj
together, wo did not hesitate to descend;
led to a passage directly tfndor the 6
ihroilgli ttiiich we had passed, and precisely
like it. We continued gazing and admiring,
when, at the end of it, we cable to a
small apartment, black as night. We were
on tlie point of entering, when a certain,1
noise not entirely new to our ears, beIfayed
10 us tho fearful truth that we were
about invading the possessions of that
mysterious lover of drfrkness' tho bat. .
. . . Millions of bats came forth" fro'W
their hiding-places makirg a noiso like
thunder. Nothing daunted, Miss B. would
havo prosecuted he^ design of exploring
thia room, if I had not begged hfcr to desist.
And thus was sacrificed oilr curiosity
and thfi opportunity of examining the snnt|
JuTti to whinll fliia """ '* * 1 ~ '
, |.n.w?tjo niia luu opening
Man Wants but Lit le Here Below.?Oeorge
Dawson, in one ofliis fresli foreatacnnted
letters to the Albany Eveninr) ?~
Joiirnal, thus flisto&tecs of th6 paucity o(
hVau'd actual wants?:
It is wonderful liow very few things aro
r&tllj' needful to our comfort. Nfcst of
otfr wants aro fictitious. No one of us
ever ate a dinner with a greater relish thari
(his that was extemporized over a htfgfe'
fire in the opert air. 'fliere were but few
dishes?brook and lake trout, potatoes;
bread and tea?but they wer6 well got
up, and our appetites craved them. Our
plates were of tin, and our tables andchair?
of whatever was convenient.
Ami thero was a' silen'co for the epico
of ten tfj'ini/tes! fto gourmand was over
more absorbed with lua
...... ?.uiiiv ?%nu j?urr.
than wc with our trout and ^otatofep;
Not did ever turtle or pork fall inoro delicately
upon tho palate. There is no
sauce like hunger, as ?fi'6re are few bl&s'fJi/igs
fnforo to ho covcted than an appetite
>111(1 a full larder. Wo had them all ~
?plenty ami a relish for it.
'^a is a groat luxury in the woods?=
boiled in an open pail and dipped in a tin
cup. It is drank profusely at every meal,
and is more longed for after rt w6ary march
than nny other liquor available. No sports'
man's kit is properly made up which doc-a
not contain a pound of Young Ilyson j
rtnd 116 camp meal is perfect without li
brimming disfi of ?h6 soothing beverage.
If ho has pork, bread and tea, the woodsman
snaps his finger at nil tho miserable
"llesh pots" which go to make up the l<nlufrei
of diVTlijfaflroff. and whoso hm rfnn?.
?16s lassitude, gout, indigestion and the -JSj|
t'libusand and unu other "ills flesh is lieif H
Not a/e f;ia oilW tfaiifs leaa simple'/
iio can imagine nothing more luxuriant
than a compactly knit bark shaiVty, ear- '?M
pcted tfitPi fresh lieiYilock houghs, artdf . -;|s
enlivened at night by a hard Wood fire inr M
front ol i". To him it is a palace; and \l
fcijUnos but flie i'?|>oriciVc6 of bftt u -> .-/sH
t or i wo io wmfce ih? irtost delicate nttafau# , /^H
tliiik wiifi iuM. < |
* Mick/ amid ? bfiukJayeMo" Aia
if vou incct Patrick,^# mT to make
lifts to, aa we are waiting fur littdt.*' v'lSjfl
4SliriTG aVid I will/.r^rjiod. Pat . 'btfl; " pal
what wilt < wtf MriTif't' dou't