The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, February 09, 1855, Image 1
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Clje 5>autljcrn (Enterprise,
%,,|iEFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS.
< ^Tw^&jsa s>. s>aacgia,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
j|M rmv .. i
50, payable In advance ; $2 If delayed.
. j " CLUBS of FIVE and upwards 81, the mousy
in every lnsrauce 10 Hccuinj>?ny vim; unior.
, ' VElfTlSEWENTiJ inserted conspicnousTv at
0 the r?teaof 75 cents per square of 8 lino*.* "and
35 cents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising made reasonable.
[w. T. PUICE a BROTHERS, PRINTERS.]
I he ? q "if e3."
"Yesl" I answered yon last night
"No!" this morning, sir, I say ;
Colors seen by candle light . ?
Will not Ipok'the same by da^
When the tabors played their best,
IiAiighs above and laughs below,
"Loves me," sounded like a jest,
Fit for "Yes" or fit for "No!"
Call me false, or call me free?
Vow whatever light jnay shine;
No man on thy fall shall seo
Any grief or change on mine.
a '
Yet the ?in is on us both?
Time to dance is not.to woo;
Wooer light makes fickle troth;
Scorn of me recoils on you!
Learn to win a lady's faith
Nobly-, as the thing is high ;
Bravely, ns for life or death,
With a loyal gravity,
Lead her from the festive Wards,
Point her to the ftnrry skies;
Ciiiard her by your truthful words,
Pure from courtship's flatteries.
Jly your truth she shall be true.
Ever true us wires of yore;
And bar "Yes!" once said to you.
Shall l>o "Veal" for evermore.
t o b c!
Love is not the fickle aueen of fortune, or
tlie ghost-shadow fairy of the imagination,
not the transparent and etherial fancy of the
ideal world, that rides on the wings of tho
arcadian rainbow ; that builds her airy habitation
on thfe extreme verge of the romantic
clouds ! Nor is she the grave, sedate, time
tutored and well-disciplined child of art, culture
and education. She knows not the
learned labyrinth of technicalities ; nor the
seductive sophistry of polished philosophy.
She builds not her nest in the tall flourishing
tree of lucre ; nor makes her strong hold
in the opulent castle of Mammon. Hor hopes
rest not on the intrinsic value, and angelic
accomplishments of moral excellence the secret
lever of her motive power.
She weighs not in the balance of worth
and equity the object of her attention ; she
sacrifices not by measure, on tho altar and
shrine of her devotion.
Love ! is a mystery, an insol cable enignuk;
reason fails to compreliend her; language
reels and staggers in the attempt to describe
her; she is among the passions, as themouoisin
to the mole-hills; as the occean to the
rivulets; as the majestic orb of "the day to
twinkling stars of night.
Love 1 is both wise and foolish ; weak and
stronflf- fparful al,ft Mii?AAn.u
_.~-Qi ??? > >< ?? vvum^uvu^ ciun uiiu
swift, blind Hud omniscient; it is incomprehensible
in its nature, inexhaustible in ful?es*;
immaculate in purity; eternal in durability
; known lib East, no West, no North,
no South; grasps the world and reaches to
I infinity ; is the triple refined concentrated
?]uinteecence of the soul, a perfect paradox
without a parallel.?Dr. J. Hane.
Co MP KN RATION OK MkMDKU8 OP CoN
II ?RE88.?Senator Badger's bill to increase the
compensation of members of Congress, will
V fail, if not altogether, at least so far as dating
l?ck to the Commencement of the present
session of Congress?so that those members
who expected to make a haul upon the Treasury
for back pay will bo sadly disapnionted.
It was proposed by one member, that tl^f
sum of $'2500 l>e allowed members uiimialflj
in fieu of their perdiem and roileaff* This
[ would bo rather unequal and unfair in operI
?\ion, u thoMO mem ben living at a distance
would receive leas pay than tho*e residing
near the seat of Government. We desire to
see the constructive mileage swindle abolished
altogether, and to have members paid for
ft the actual distance they travel. -Give thein
& ms milage, that will he amply auiKdent to
jft nay their expenses, and in additwg fifteen
A linndrod or two tlmusand dollars fffwnnum,
and they should be content. Tb?f would be
handsomely compensated for their services
- ?and twine of thfrn would |>e greatly over
Jy paid for all the good thai they do to the
jC country. At tliat rate of compensation the
m l>esta talent* ma la had in batfe houses of
^ Congress.
1 .H????
j ^" v^yv, ,
GREENVI
. 3 ii (Englisji ,?tnnj.
From the New York Dutchman.
I>e if igtoto*(jMif 3 Bride.
by mrs. heslkr taffktah.
Mink were the days for gallant robbers,
whoso fine clothes, high bearing, reckless
hardihood, nnd (frequently) good birth took
away from the superficial observer, innch of
j the darkness of crtine actually surrounding
i their deeds and lives. You were divested
I of your rings and nurses, poften with a de;
meanor so polishes, that really it rather re
> sera Died paying toll to good manners than
, submitting to a highway robbery ; a robbe1
ry it is true, yet still it was more soothing to
the feelings at the time, than being knocked
down with the butt end of a pistol, or bullied
as well as plundered. Fashion, too, capricious
in this as in all else, affected . some
kuights of the road above others, and fine
1 ladies interested themselves amazingly about
the deeds of highwayVncn, conspicious for
handsome persous and brave conduct, or
rather daring villany. These fair dames also
were ihutm concerned iu their heroes final
incarocrations and exits at the fatal tree of
Tyburn. Hut highwaymen had, as everybody
knows, been still more popular in the
proceeding reign yet ever and annon as the
profession seemed to bo on tho verge'of decay,
and likely to dwindle down into more commonplace
theft and murder, some new candi
uate was sure to start up aiul revive the dy
ing embers of tlio road of chivalry. One in
particular was notorious enough in his brief
day, for most of the qualities I hare described,
as~8ometimes attributes these knights of
the road. He was well connected, too his
uncle being a clergymen in a high church
appointment. Ills person was elegant his
manners courtly, and he was rush in an extraordinary
degree. Mingling freely in fashionable
society in his real name, his deeds of
I robbery were the talk of the town under his
assumed one. His proper designation was
Richard Mowbray, tliat belonging the road,
his sole source of revenue, wa* Captain de
Montmorency?a pntronymichigli-sou tiding
enough. I do not mean, however to infer
that any suspected the man .of fashion und
his highwayman to be one and the same
person ; that was never, known till the event
which I am going relate took place.
Richard Mowbray bad spent his own
small patrimony years before the period at
' which the narrative commences, in the picasI
ures of the town ; it had incite J4 in ridottos,
; playhouse*, faro, horse-flesh, and hazard ; he
' had exhausted the kindness and forbearance
! of his relations, from whom ho had borrow!
ed and bogged, till borrowing or begging bcj
came impracticable. He hud known most
; extremes of life; and,moreover, when debts
and poverty stared him grimly in the face, he
, knew not one useful art by which he might
' support existance, or pay dividened to his
J credits. What vt as to be done / lie eluded a
jail lis long as he could and eventful night ridi
ing on horseback,and one meditating gloomily
on his evil fortunes, he met?covered by
! the darkness from all discovery?a traveller
well mounted?plethoric?laden with moneybags
and bearing likewise the burden of excessive
fair.
It was a sudden thought?acted upon as
suddenly. Resistance was not dreamed of,
Mowbray made oft' with his booty, considerable
enough to repair his exhausted finances,
and to pay his most pressing' creditors. It
wps literally robbing PetKf'to- pay Paul.
And so by night, under shelter of its dark ness,
did the ruined gentleman become the
highwayman. Pedple who knew his circumstances
whispered their surprise when it
i became known that Richard Mowbray had
paid his debts, and that he himself made
more his customary* appearance. Now his
tine person was ever clad in the newest bra
j venea 01 uie any, ana in ins double charac[
ter many a conquest did he make, for he dis|
burtheucd ladies of their jewol* and jairse*
i with so fide a manner, that the defrauded
i fair ones forgot their losses in adiniraiion of
j their charming aespoiier, and kichnrd in
; both his phases drank deep draughts of
pleasure, till he druined the Circenn cup, to
its veriest dregs. Just as even pleasuie be.
came wearisome when festive and high-bred
delights palled on his sated passions, and
the Tower extremes of licentiousness and hard
; drinking, ruffling and fighting, diversified by
j the keen excitement and threats of danger,
1 1|hick distinguished his predatory existence
pt^gttflNo saqhle, a new light broke on the
I feverish atmotfpfteui of his life, lie loved.
Yes! kit-hard Mowh^av, the rained patrician.
Do Montinorecry, tlie gallant high!
j way man, who had hitlierto resisted every
gqod or evil influence w hich Love, pure or
earth-stained, offers to his votaries, succumbed
to the simple charms of a young, unlearned,
unambitious girl; so youthful, that even
Iter tastes and habits, childish as they wore,
could be scarcely more so than suited her
years. Flavin Hardcourt had pint attained
iter sixteenth year?had never been to a
boarding-school, and loved nothing so much
s?even her birds and pot rabbits?ns her
dear old father, an honest country gentleand
a woi thyffpagistrate. Fl'avia had
never been even to London, for Mr. Hardcourt^feuded
at Aveling, a retired Tillage,
& \ *
# -w ^
HUSKS
LUi, S. FRIDAY i
about twenty miles from the metropolis. Barring
fox-hunting' and hard drinking, the old I
gentleman on his side, took pleasure only in |
the pretty gentle girl, who, from the hour 1
of her birth, which event terminated her t
mother's existence, had made her his t
constant pnlymate and companion. And it t
was to this simple wild flower that the (
gay man of pleasure, haughty, reckless, un- \
principled, improvident, irreligious, and t
rash, presumed to lift his eyes, to elevate his
heart; and, oh, stranger still, to this being, a
the moral antipodes o? her pure self did Fla- j t
via Hardcourt surrender her youthful, mod-: 1
cii, inestimable love. It must have been her | *
very childishness and purity that attracted t
j ted desperate robber?-the hardened libertine,! f
now about to commit his worst and most j i
! inexcusable crime. He liju.1 acidently met: <
Mr. Hardcourt at a county liuht?and with <
others of his companions, being invited by that's
honest gentleman to a J*ustic fete, in honor j i
of littlo Flavin's natal day?a day, he was :
woti? to observe to him, remarkable for com-'t
inemorating his greatest misfortune, and his j 1
interest and happiness, and then and there j'
the highwayman vowed to win and wear']
il.. ..... I 1-4*: . e 1 --J >'
1 me puicuuu ui liiiiucuiiiirmiiiieiM ana rare 1
fragrance, or to polish in the attempt. Mas- '
ter Richard Mowbray ! unscrupulous de <
Montmorency! I will relate how you kept i
your vow.
lie haunted Aveling Grange till the chaste
young heart, the old father's beloved darling,
surrendered itself into the highwayman's! i
keeping. Perhaps Mr. Hardcourt was not!
altogether host pleased at Flavia's choice; '
but then she was his life?his hope, and . i
husband, that her love and doting affection ,
he trusted, even when he gave her a
would still be his own : besides, Mowbray I
was well connected?boasted of his wealth ; j i
whereas,a very moderate portion would be j
hers?was received in modish circles, into j <
which the good old magistrate could never
i pretend to penetrate; and, in short, what
j with his high bearing, bis handsome person,
| and, in short, what with his high bearing, <
his handsome person, and insinuating tongue,
Mr. Hardcourt had irrevocably promised
to bestow his treasuro into the keeping
of the profligate, who numbered himself almost
years enough to have been the father
of the young girh w hom be testified the utmost
impatience to call wife.
It was during the time that Mr. Mowbray
was paying his court at Aveling, that the
neighborhood began to be alarmed by a scries
of highway robberies, which men said
could have been perpetrated but by that celebrated
knight of the road?Captain Do
Montmorency. No one could stir after night- j
fall without tin attack, in which numbers cer- <,
tainly were not wanting.
'Cudgel me, hut we'll have him yet, said
old Mr. Hardcourt. 'I should glory myself
in going to Tyburn to see the fellow turned
Off. Av, and 1 would take my little Flavin ;
to see him go by in the cart; with a person
and a nosegay ; eh !' my little girl V
Oh, no, father,' snid Flavin, 'I could not j
abide if, though ho is such a daring wicked i
mail whose name makes me Rhrink, with 1
few and terror whenever I hear it. I could ;
never Dear to see such u dreadful sight?it
would haunt nie til! my death.'
l>oca the gift of prophecy, involuntary
though it be, lilrk withiu us yet ? Does the
soul dimly shadow out its own fate, of that of
its frail and perishable habitation? Sweet Flaviu!
unsuspecting innocent girl! your lips
then pronounced your own doom, as irrcvovcably
as though you had been some -stern
Sybil, delivering inscrutable unquesti >?ed
oracles, not a fair child as vou#wero when I j
fir?t saw you in your girlish frock and sash.
Your brown hair curling down your straight
grossy shoulders, your soft eyes shining
through your blushes, like diamonds glit
tering amongst the freshest of roses' Swcot 1
Flavin, I havo lived to see my kindcrd dust
heaped on your fresh young form, and old '
and withered now, I'cannot but remeinlrer 1
the glow of your sweet, unstained youth, ra- i
diant iu unforesecing love, happiness and 1
tor
The betrothed pair were together to visit <
j London. J
''k?uL 1 niifeil iioi Ciare, ?aiu liifc girl, as '
I walking together in the old fashioned Dutch <
! garde?i, she leant her young sinless head on 1
I her guilty lover's breast; *1 shall not dare j
take Mich a journey, for fear of the highway- j
man, Do Montmorency
"Fear not, my sweet Flavia; this breast i
shall be pierced through ere De Montmor- J
I encv shall cause one fear in thine.1
j 'Richard, sweetest, why do you leave us
[ so early evor, evening I At sunset, I have i
! remarked. These are not London habits, i
! Alj, doe* any other than your poor Flavin at- <
' tract you ? Oh, Richard I must die if it t
; should l>eso. I could not live,- and know
yon were false."
"Sweetest, and best? my purest love,
could ahy win me from you, were it a queen? i
think it not. I?1?the truth is Flnvia, I
have a poor sick friend not far from here ;
he is )K?or, ill, I?I-?1'
'Say uo more, dearest. Oh, how much more ,
I love you every day. How good, how nobit,
thus to Mondce^ Au^lhu blushing girl
threw herself into her lover!* ^rras.
Ah, how ^lidorently beat iSose two human
hearts., Ope^pregnant with Jove, gooses*,.
churity, sympathy; the fyhejr rank with W>}
pocrisy, dark with unbefcef.
A ' 1 W*
V, . '* I
, ,. V
t iW ' '5 tfopHLm*
HORSING, FEBRUAlt
? /
They cauie to town, unmolested, you may
>e sure ; the stranger, because a few days
ireviously a terrible affair hnd occurred. Old
xird St. i]ilary,tho relic of the beau *yarcous
>f former days, had been robbed and malreated.
Men were by no means a favored
is the beau-sere. Above all, a family jewel
if immense value had been taken from his
vounds and fright, he swore vengeance. He
ook'active measures to fulfil his vow.
Flavin came to us, to be measured for wed-1
ling clothes. She was then the i n person n,ion
of radiant happiness. I was much with
ter; and with the handsome, dark-browed i
iwarthy gentleman who accompanied her j
md her friend, an old lady cousin to her j
'ather, nt whose house tlie nuptial ceremony !
vas to take place. The clothes were finish-1
hI ; saffron satin robes according to a fancy I
>f the bridegroom's who was fond of the el as-r
iics in his youthful days ; orange blossoms \
vrcath.
The wedding was to take place at the old
elations, Mrs. Duchesne's house: and on ;
agging wings, that day at length arrived. I
l'he marriage was celebrated, and the happy i
pair were in the act of being toasted by tho
father of the bride, when a strange noise
was heard below ; rude voices were upraised;
oaths muttered ; a rush towards the festive
saloon. The company rose.
'Who is it?' said Mr. Hardcourt.
The door was broken open for answer.
The officers of justice tilled the room. Two
advanced.
' 'Come, captain,' said they, 'the game is,
up at last. It's an awkward time to arrest j
a man on bis wedding day; but duty my no- j
ble captain duty must be done.' ? j
'My Richard, what is this ?'
'Scoundrels,' said Mr. Hardcourt, 'release 1
my son.'
The men laughed. One of them was ex '
amining a necklace of Flavin ; it contained a ,
diamond in the centre, worth a ransom. j
'Where did you get this miss ?' said he, .
Her friends answered, for the terror-strick-1
en girl was inarticulate, 'Mr. Mowbray's;
wedding gift.'
'Ob, oh 1 This was the diamond Lord St. I
Hilary was so mad about. Hy your leave,'1
and the gem removed from the neck it encir-;
clcd.
She comprehended something terrible.
She found speech, 'whom do take Mr. Mow-1
bray for ?' said she.
*W limn 2 tultir tho rnnAu-nn/l /In I
Montmorency.'
A shriek?so fierce in its Agony as to I
cansc the criminal to rebound?struck on J
he ear of all present; insensibility followed,
and Flavin was removed. So v/as her bride-1
groom?to Newgate.
The trial was eoucluded.?justice was ap i
peared?the robber Was doomed. And his J
innocent and unpolluted?. For days her j
life had hung on a thread. Hut youth j
and health closed for a short time the gates
of the death. She recovered. Revived as
from a dreadful, dream she could scarcely believe
the terrible event which, ternado-like,
had swept over her. She desired her father j
to repeat its circumstance. Weeping, and his i
venerable grey hairs whiter with sorrow, Mr. j
Hardcourt complied. She heard the recital j
in silence. Presently clasping, her father's
hands, 'Dear parent,' she said, 'when?1
when ?' she could utter no more ; nor was it;
necessary, lie comprehending her meaning
but to well.
* 'The dav after to-morrow' he renlied.
' Father, I must bo there.'
'My Flavin, my de.nre.-t daughter !'
'Father I nyist be there. Do tqu remem-i
ber your jest? All it has come to pass in!
bitter earnest. I must be there.'
Nor would she be pacified sho persisted.1
Her physician at length urged them to give 1
her way. It would, ho said, be less dangerous
than denial.
Near Tyburn seats were erected. Win-1
dows, balconies to l?e let out on hire. One .
of these last the most private was secured ;!
and on the fatal morning Flavia was convey- \
ed thither in a close carriage ; accompanied
by her parent and her aged cousin. She
died no tears, heaved not a single sigh, and
suffered herself to be led to the window with
itraftgfc immoveable eJmness. Soor. 'bouts
and the swellingtnurmur of a dense crowd
readied her ears. The procession was ar-:
riving. The gallows was not in sight, but;
the fatal curt would pass close. It came j
nearer,?more like a triumph, that dismal;
sight, than a human fellow-man hastening
to eternity.
She clenched her hands, rose up, straining J
her fair white throat to catch a glance of the
criminal. Yes, there ho was, dressed gaily,
the ominous nosegay flaunting in his breast,
dull despair in his heart, reaching from
thence to his face. As the cart passed Fluviu's
window, by chance he raised his hot
bleared ; eyes th$y rested on his Vide, his
pure virgin wife. The'wretched man utter-;
. I - 11 1 r I * t < t
cu h veil ui ngouy ami cnu nunscii (town oil
tire boards of the veliiclo. Klic continued
gazing, the smile frozen on her face, We* oyea
glnry, motionless; fixed.
Thej ncvef recovered their natural intelligence.
Fixed and stony, thoy l>oro her,
stricken lamb from the dismal scene. Her
old father watched f-of dayajby her bedside,
eagerlj waiting for e my of light a token off
scene, t-r sound. None came. She had been
strickci with catalepey. and it wis a blessing J
when tpe enchained spirit wee rehfcted from
YWr **
WB W? M
,Y 1 1855.
ngBBHHMnBn
its frail habitation, when the pure soul was!
permitted to take its flight to a happier re-1
gions. Poor Mr. Hardcourt sank shortly nf- j
tor into a state of childish imbecility and j
soon father and daughter slept, in one grave.
Sntmsting Jllisrrllnmj.
if o 6 o D ij' s Child.
' What Not," a charming volume by1
Mrs. Mary A. Denison, is published by Lip
pineott, Garinbo <fc Co., of this city. It is I
made up of a great variety of articles, ent-:
bracing a wide range of subjects, and is il 1
lustrated with fine ability. We mnko a
brief extract, and give one of the illustrations '
iu this number of the Homo Magazine.
44Nob<*!s Chilli."?The daylight plays j
in the, old alleys as well as it can for the |
dust heaps and t/dl black houses. Here;
and there through the tan of wind, sun, and I
layers of dirt, gleams a white spot like the f
leaf of a lily, telling that beauty is not wholly
banished, even from hero. A child has j
fallen over vender broken doorsten. It .
sleeps, but not tin watched, for the homely |
mother leaves her suds to steal now and !
then a quiet look, and wish ho may sleep j
till her toil is over. From little tongues the !
roll of the blasphemer summons kindred
spirits, and begrimed imps play loss-penny i
and root the dirt deeper into their sallow ;
cheek.
Nought distuib* the old alley save poverty
and crime. Intemperance swaggers and
drunkenness staggers, throwing its lean
hand against the rattling window panes,
and crushing in the old hat crowns that i
line'broken apertures.
Here comes a group worth studying. A I
boy with sunny locks, leading, hi.* sister
from the parish school. Poverty may l>e j
his heir-loom, hut virtue locks hands with 1
its meagre mate, and may carry him safely
through a perilous life-journey.
"Well, my boy, whose child are you ?"
' Please, Pin Peggy's little boy what takes]
in ironing and washing. 1 and sister goes
to school."
Behind them, with a slower step, an eye
like a hawk, his short, crisp curls clinging
close to his brown forehead, come another
little urchin. His eve has brightened?per1.?...
!... ........ ? ..? _ ..i ? _ )
Ilftf/?* Ul WHO 9UU iiu UI U t \uiv;c illJ'l
lie nervously ringers Lis old rags.
Who can but give a kindly wish to the
neglected one? So we pait a smile between
tliein and ask him too?'And you, my little
fellow, whose child are you V
See! his head droops; the bold light
fades from his eye; the joyous curve of his
lip changes to grief. lie half looks up
agum, and a fearntreinbles ou his dark
lashes?
ki Please, / aint nobody's child."1
How often that plaintive voice rings vl?,
inv ear, like the low cry of the turtle dove!
Visions of neglected graves it brings, heaped
in the poor's corner; of children clinging to
the skirts of strange garments, weeping at
the harsh voice of forced charity?crouching
from the uplifted hand of the cruel talkmaster.
Nobody's child !
What if his shiinkiiig limbs stiffen Wtn
the cold ? Who will tear the tattered gar
menus from lier own perishing body to gather
about her child i
Nohody ?
Who, when the sneer anil taunt sti ike
colder than death against the grieving heart,
pours the soft balm of a divine love on,the
truH wound ?
Nobody!
Who, when the vile lay unholy hands
upon him. aud drag hiin to the dark haunts
of sin, will snatch hiin froin ruin at the peril
of her own life ?
Nobody C i&W
The poor day-worker may hover like an
angel about her treasures?even in the midst
of misery and pollution?saving them from
all; but he who is nobody's child?
"O! hcven pity and guard him."?Arthurs
Jfovw Magazine.
Gkai'Iiic.?Mrs. Swisshelm, in the Pittsburg
Gazette, flunks that the sterner sex
had better devote their attention to their
own ridieulous fashions in dress, rather than
to find so much fault with the ladies. The
gentlemen of Pittsburg must be rather a
comical looking set. if Mrs. {>orlrait of
them is correct. She snvs: ?m.
"llerc for two winters they have been
stalking around, looking for all the world
like no many pumpkins with two cornstalks
stuck in the hlossiu end, and a ?bit of stem
left on the other?in coats jus! the length
of a farmer's wainus,.a half a yard too wide,
stuffed out with Wadding, and drawn up
around their cars?sleeves like meal sacks,
and pantaloons as tight ffldJe atrings.?
To see them handle th^ir druYn sticks in
this outiit was ir natural curiosity. This
wi**?r tii? utilt liko supporters mysteriously
disappear; pantaloons are invisible, and
cofitt bid fair to rival ladies' skirts In the
sublime art of street sweeping."
Km ?
, Thk Howard Association of New Orleans
has voted 2,000 for th* r?!i?f of the Poor in
New fork.
^iL '? i
NO. ^9.
There is nothing sheds ho tine n light upon
the human mind as candor. It whs cafted
w hiteness by the ancients, for its purjtv ;
and it has always won the esteem due to' the
most admirable of the virtues. However
little sought fyr or practiced, nil do it tho
homage of their praise, and nil feel the power
and charm of its influence. The man ?
whose opinions make the deepest mark tip- ?
on his fellowronn : whose influence is tire
most, lasting and clHcieut; whose friendship
is instinctively sought, where all others have
proved faithless,?is not tho man of brilliant
parts, or flattering tongue, or splendid genius,
or commanding'power. but he whose
lucid candor and ingenuous truth, transit
the heart's real feelings, pure and without
refraction. There are oilier qualities which
jirt.- snore snowy, ami omer traits Hint Dave
a higher place in the world's code of honor;
hut none wear better, or gather less tarnish
by use, or 'aim a dqeper homage in that
silent reverence \vh icJi the mind must pay to
virtue. : ? #
As it is the most beautiful, soil is the safest
of moral qualities. None fall into so
few mistakes'?none darken and deform
themselves with so little falsehood and wrong
?none so free from the pain of doing wrong,
| as those who walk amidst the pitfalls and
miasmas, passions and errors of our tainted
1 life, clothed habitually with candor. The
rare and come union of prudence and priit'
ciple, of firmness and forbearance, of truth
and zeal, of earnestness of feeling, a d'scriinj
iuutioti of views, is to be found cnly ib minds
pervaded ami enlarged by candor. To love,
and to seek in ell things the truth?to chose
and adhere to, before all the solicitations of
passion, or the power * of prejudice}' or the
three of public opinion, or the claims of in-'
terest or power, whatever is right and true;
to believe, at every juncture of experience of ^
thought that nothing is so gmul.or desirable
or trustworthy, ?s tiulh ; to scent the truth ;
amidst all the unpopular disguises which too
t often disfigure it in this woild?this must be
i safest and best, w hat ever we may think of it,
I if God really reigns, and there he an eternal
. distinction between truth and falsehood, right
] and wrong. In nothing have men so vital an
| interest as in truth. Nothing should we so
! earnestly strive to get at. or hold fast when
obtained. "Key the tiutli and sell it not."
(tran Leu vet.
Ax exchange tells this good story: A
Yankee and Frenchman owned a pig in co
j partnership. When killing time came they
| wished to divide the carcass. The Yankee
> was anxious to divide so that he should get
! both hind quarters, and persuaded the
j Frenchmen that the proper way to divide
was to cut across the hack. The Frenchman
agreed to it. on condition that the Yankee
would turn his hack and take choice of the
I pieces at'ler it \Mp- cut in two. The Yankee 4
trunod his hack and the Frenchman asked .
Yfch piece vill you have: 7.e piece wid 7.e
, tail on him, or zo piece vat aint got no tail on
, hint ! .a. ,
'The piece with the tail !' shouted the
Y ankee.
l>en by gar v<>u take lijin, and I take ze
Other,' said the Frcuehmitn.
Upon JocF.mg round, the Yankee fbund
that the Frd dnn^n had cnt olt'tke tail and
; stuck it in the pig'* mouth !
Decidedly Sensible*
j Mrs. Swissiioi.m, of the Saturday
! Visitor, noticing the publication of *
new love story, nays: *
"All that stuff about woman's love
has been said over and over ngnm fifty
thousand times, to the great detri- ^
mcnt of the best interests of humanity.
There is no hind of necessity for using
the press to persuade silly girls that it %
I is romantic and womanly to love a
j scoundrel?to leave her affections unj
guarded by ryason or experience, and
i driftjielplessly into sin, shame am I despair
as an evidence of her unsuspecting
j womanhood.
It is not true that Roman's affections
tare stronger or more durable than
i man's. \Vethink the very opposite is
the ease arft that two-thirds of all the
, women "who pine or die of love, do so
for want of something letter to doi?
Everything calculated to make lovcsickness
a booming feminine accomplishment
$ a great injury: but to
strew the path of the suicide with the
| flowers of poesy and romancft is in a
' very high degree reprehensible. ? *
'fhe best motto to jruard a YOtnur
girl thro' the mazes of love is^ "Do
i right and trust in God." A girl who<>
lias done nothing wrong has little causo
to mourn over the fickleness of a pretended
torer. Hotter that ho shonhl
change his mind before marriage than
after.
? ? -? -,
A vac am Tnind invites dangerous inmates
as a deserted mairuhn tempts wandering
outcasts to take up their abode in its desolate
apartments. *
#