Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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; OU3 VOL, 1. i . . ' ' jjt dBnterprist, A REFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS. 'mnwwLAaa a>EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. rX7!E3X.IMlM? fl 60, payable in advance ; $2 if delayed. CLUB* of FtVE and npwnrds *1, the money in every instance to accompany the order. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at the rates of 15 cents per square of 3 linos, and 25 cents for each subsequent insertion. Contracts for yearly advertising made reasonable. [W. r. PUICIC * BROTHER*, PRnrrERB. J MM? ???? J Original ^nttrg. For the Southern Enterprise. tplestipe. BT StTKNIE BOUTHJtOMT. Thou'rt very bright and beautiful, my own my native land. From California'a golden soil, to our own seagirt strand. And oft with prido I ponder on the glory thou hast won, A glory that will die, but with the name of Washington. ij ... O ? w. . I)e?p doth thy mighty waters run, and high thy V mountains rise, lifting their snow cnpp'd summits to the azure tinted skies, Upon thy east Atlantic roars, thy west, Pacific lares, And over all the Eagle soars, and Freedom's banner waves. Yes, high upm the scroll of fame, my country thon dost stand, And each bright star doth shine undimm'd of all the glittering band, Yet there's a land upon whose hills a glorious "Star" did shine, Eclipsing far in brilliancy and beauty all of thine. O, Palestine, though now in dust, thy nation's glory's ertuh'd, Though thou art robed in sackcloth, and thy songs of joy are hush'd, Though east, and west, and north, and south, thy children scatter'd rove, And hanghty Moslems tread the soil, which they so dearly love! Though long they've been a "bye-word," and a mark for taunt and scorn, Though the oppression of the world, a curse of (Jod they're borne, Though they have sins whose crimson stain none can wipe out but lie, Whose blood tlicy shed, O, Palestine, on thine own Calvnrv 1 Yet, still thou hast a glory, which none other Und oan claim, For thou art the Immanuel's land, despite thy grief uud shame, Beloved by him thine every mount, and vale, and cliriatal flood, Perfumed thine air is with his sighs, thy soil baptizod with blood. And though his curse on Isrdtl rests, yet for their father's sake. He'll rend the curtain from their hearts, their chains of error break, Long have they walked in darkness, but he will restore their sight. That they may look on him they piero'd, and see their "Shiloh's light* And then "Return O Israel," return to Judah's hills, Return and sing a song of joy, boaUs Biloah's rills, . ' Tim tkama .Takevwak T ? ?J ? _..v uvuvridiukvi*ii| uio lAiru our righteousness, Ho i* Jehovah Xlssi, and hi* people he will bless. Then raleetine shall riee again, and in new raiment shine. For Jtuol>'e long afflicted seed, no more in exile pine, Iler CitrineCe wither'd top ehall bud, her Salem bout for mii-fUl, An her Jerusalem shall he the joy of all the earth. Dzsprratiok or PovKnrr.?Compared to the poor shivering people who are without work, money, fuel or wood, the inmates- of our jails are well otf. It is for this reason that in winter many throw themselves in the way of arrest to get committed to prison.? In Cincinnati lately a poor Irish girl, named Mar)' C-avagb, stole a basket for the express 8urpose of being sent to prison during the itter cold weather. ^ I.arok Fsc.-t?Hon. David T. Disney, Representative in Congress from Cincinnati, churns from that eitv three thousand dollar" for services rendered in Wdlhington while a nfflbber of Congress, in attending to the city's 1 ^ Tmxoe to ns Sinner* nod Urn / - v ^ 1 '*: ^ ' * ... g* > I V* .* V ? i ( " V *.. ' . ' ' ' ' 1 H?1Pp?@ i?r^ ;:'. ?' : GREENY] 21 Unmt Itonj. [From Arthur's Home llngaano.] B i H c lr q dO ? to e ei, BY MH8. MAV.Y A. DKNISON. "Habn't you better lie down, now, John ? It's getting very late; you will be worse to- , Morrow." ( Her eyes, sad, faded and tearful, sought the little mantel clock, and- then rested an*- , iously again upon the face of her husband. , "No dear," replied the sick titan, shaking his head, while thn rich Iiiu'iit mifh Hannwl upon his pallid check, nnd a singular ex- , f ression crossed Tiis countenance. "I think 'II sit a little longer yet. I'ut one stick 011 , the fire, dear ; iny feet are very cold, nnd it's a cold, too, that someway chills to my heart." : Quickly.nnd quietly the |>oor woman tOok , from her little closet the last nnd most oov- | eted slore of dry wood, and while she bent , over the broken coals, adjusting it to the ill-looking tire-place, the sick man held his ] hand, with a curious look, to his eyes, ex- , amined tho fingernails, heavily pressed his . d;imp f irehead, and groaned. "What is it dear ?" "Nothing that alarms me," ho replied, quietly, "but, at that mmi^nt, it Hashed across my memory, among "other things, that to-night we have mourned just five , years for the death of our poor boy." "Yes, so it is the night," said the wife, 1 thoughtfully. "It was just such a night, too, when the old sexton ^brought the news. Put we were better oil' then, and didn't mind if j the snow blew in, for there was such afire in | the grate?a living coal tire such as we liavn't seen for months; and you were so ' healthy then. I rather think, John, that was what broko you down." "Yes, yes !" replied the other, hastily ; "I liavn't been the same man since; but we must not complain ; Providence is nlvvays good though it seem ever so dark. Wallace was a noble fellow, and I have never forgiven myself, that by forcing upon him a trade with which he was disgusted, I drove him to sea. Oh I if parents only knew just what to do! ?if only thev were not so wilfull." He clasped his hands as he spoke, and gazed fixedly at the tire that threw forth now a steady blaze. "If only they were not so wilful." he added, with a softer voice. In a few moments he looked up ngnin, and, smiling placidly, said, "it seems to me, Mary, 1 don't feel so had about leaving you, to-night, as I have before." "Don't, John:?0I1! let us talk of some thing else. If you aro to die, John,*1 don't wan't to know?think of it?till it in all over. I thought I heard a groan," she added, moving a little ways from the (ire; "1 get so nervous when you talk so." "It was the wind, dear. Hear how iubeats that broken blind; I wish I was strong enough to mend it Ilaik! it hails heavily; God pity the mariner;" his voice trembled and sank. In a moment ho added "It seems to be a good fire, too, but someway it J don't warm my feet; thank you, Mary, that will be better ; thank you. dear." She bad stooped down, and was now holding those thin leet in her hands, chaffing them briskly and tenderly. The half-wierd light of the fire, ?9 it sunk at times, left strange brown hollows in that caro-worn face. It struck out the shadows of the tall high-post bedstead, whose tattered curtain had been gathered around to the side where the sick ittan laid. The high backed chairs threw out shapes like coffins on the uncarpeted fioor, and the little, oetagonal table made ghastly show of itself along the unpapered wall. "It did sound something like a groan," said John, returning his wife's fearful glance; "but it must bo the wind moaning up-stairs. Those rooms are old and crazy, and not rented ; they are full of crevices fur the wind to rush through, and I dare say the noise might l)e accounted for in a dozen ways. There, precious wife, you aro wearying yourself. I feelQbetter already ; so sit here by my side, and let us talk together of ohl times." Shutting the tears back, Mrs. Leslie wrapperl her husband's feet in well worn flannel, and drew a chair close beside him. The clock struck that moment?it was eleven. "Flbvi-n nVliwt " to soiil ii. l.o ??t. I--- I ?w on Iivi W?'VA l?t:r hand in his, now emaciated with long sickness; "it's agoodcloek, Mary, and what furniture wo huvo is pretty decent. When I ?> am- a She stopped liim with a kiss, but tire tears rained down her cheeks, and the wild storm outside grew wilder. "You have not altered much, Mary, in tho twenty year* of our marriage. I.et tne see; you were eighteen. Ilow modest and blooming you were# seated in your little schoolroom, on the first day of our meeting, ltoses hungfrora your curls then, placed there by innocent fingers, and I was strong and full of high hopes; hopes, alas ! that bavo not bcco realised. ?"But wifi be in Heaven. John," said Mary, lifting hero ark eyes. M1 believe it; I nave never doubted tbat; the future is all my hope now. The seed 1 have sow? here has tekqyigseen root, doubtless, and blossomed up H^mn. There * I JM . f * : X -; raf&Oi&ltltMiMte 'jtHl 'i !?'seiilJ [LIE, S. C.: FRIDAY I shall eat of the rippened fruit O! I never doubt for a moment the immortal destiny of man." "IIow your face shines, John." MI um veryimppy, Mary; I don't know as I ever felt happier. I know thero is not a crust ot Dread in tlio house, and this is the last of our pobr little wood pile; and yet I feel as certain thut Good will provide?some way. i am only sorry that you havo had so much care with me, but I know love ?weetcned it all." "Oh ! yes, John; yes, all my care has been pleasure ; arid if it is God's will thllt you should go, I shall not stay long. I'd huve nothing to live for, .John." "You were right, I do believe, Lfary; the sound came again apparently beneath our window," cried John, holding his head in the attitude of a listener. "Yes, and there are voices outside; 111 iustgoto'he dcor a minute ; may be we :an do some good nud, throwing on what liad oncobcon a comfortable woolen shawl, ilie hurried into tlio durk entry. "I feel just so," muttered John, letting his liead drop on his linnd; "I feel as if I'd iike to know what it is; anotlior time in our unprotected situation, and this out of the way place, I should he a fearful ; but"?he shook his head nnd resumed his mournful look in the fire, as he added?"I'm afraid that Mary isn't prepared for what will happen before morning. Tin's firo is hot; I feel the glow) on my cheek, but my feet, my feet, they are j icy cold, nor can I move them. God help thco, Mary." "Oh lyes; bring him in; we'll keep liim hero while you get a carriage, l'oor youth,! hope lie isn't dangerously wounded.' It was Mary's voice, and John looked languidly round, r.s two nieu came, in, bearing a body between them. lie was a young man, tall and elegantly attired. His face was handsome, but bis thick silken curls were stained with blood, lie did not open hiseyeSf though he seemed sensible of tho change from a driving storm to comparative warmth ; ho only moaned faintly, as the compassionate woman placed pillows under his head. A cloak richly trimmed hung on the arm of one of the men ; he had been shaking tho wet and frost from it in the old entry. lie now laid it over the little octagonal table, saying at the same time, "'l gue^s by these trappings he's a rich one;same time I wouldn't like to pay the expense of a carriage on risk, this time of night; wonder if he's got any money about him." Mary was on her knees, busily cutting away the rich hair that fell in glossy bunches over the carputless floor. She paused a moment, and inserted her lingers' in the pocket of his satin vest. Fortunately there was ioosc, euange enougli mere lo pay for a carriage, and taking it, the men hurried out. Suddenly Mary uttered a low cry. She looked up helplessly in the lace of her husband ; her lips white and parted ; her cheeks ashy ; but as he cried, stretching forth his weak arms and weaker body, "what is it, Mary?for Heaven's sake, tell me, Mary !? j she conquered the impulse to fly and weep upon his bosom, and only said, as she bent once more to her task, or rather sobbed than sail: "the wound; it's made ino feel sick and faint for a moment, yet I do not think it is dangerous and she circled the neck of the stranger with hor loving arms, aud looked down in bis face, while u strange expression brightened her Own. At that moment his full dark eyes open ed : his lips parted ; he said but one word? ! yet John heard it, and fell back weakly in his chair?that word was "mother." "John, John?becalm?oh! it will kill you; do l>c calm, dearest husband?ycs.it is him, our owu Henry?our boy. My heart will burst with joy !?but you?oh!' bo calmer, John?don't look so steadily at me ; for isn't it good news; holy tidings!?our child is found ; he knows us." "God be praised," was all the poor man could murmur. "And now, I am going to lay him on our bod, John, and you shall sleep besido him ; beside our own lost boy. Think of it, John ; it will give you now life and strength, and j who knows but you may get entirely well. Oh ! John, 1 can't realize it?1 can't." "Messed be God " murmured the dying man, folding his thin palms together, and a rapt smile spreud like light over his face. "Here they come, but be eau't go; they must help me place him on the bed, ami tly for u doctor. See, lie is looking at us ; Henry, can't you speak, my own love i" "Money?plenty?round my waist"?he --l! 1 _ A 1 !.? vrt* ?. itrucuiuwxi Willi UlUlCUIty. "Nut to the hospital, hey I" "Not to tlio hospital," returned Mary: "he is our child, man ; you would not have us send our son to the hospital, would you I" "Precious need of it,T mattered one, glancing about the room. ' ^I'Look here!?what does this 'ere mean f" blustered the other. "Here's a young man we find, half dead, out in the cold; brim him in the home; woman don't know him; ooine back from doing a dead of charity,and woman ha* been a finding out that lie's her son. Take that and the clothes into conneetion, and L^houtd say there was a tyae attempt at kionappinar.or sotnOsuch humbug." Toe young man, howeeer. settled the auction. Weakly liftio CWrtaO. b?W "* * t ' . :' ? ' ' /O k- * * ' j ^ . - * MORNING, FEBRM ed Mar)* to him. and taking her pale fingers, held them to his Hps, and kissed them. "That does look like it," said the man more'soft'.y ; "but I eant make it out, either/ "We huvnH seen him for five years," cried Mary ; oh ! do help him to^ tho bed, nnd gc for the doctor ; we'll pay you well; indeed we will." The doctor came. The wound ho said was not dangerous, but without medical aid might become so. lie dressed the young man's head, and prepared to go. Pausing before John, who lift his lustrous and smiling face to tho doctor, he said: i "You seem very well pleased, sir ; I wish you joy." Mary had told him all. i;ie tsicic man only bowed his head, and then as lie languidly laid it back again the doctor gazed compassionately upon him. "I thought my Heavenly Father would never forsake us," ho murmured feebly ;4,nnd so I told Mary. Thank God, when I am gone, she will have a son. , Oh, God be praised!" "You are cold and exhausted," said the doctor, laying, his hand gently on the dying man's brow ; "how long have you felt thus ?" ' My feet became very stiff"just before dark, and ainee then I have been failing fast." Ilis tfoice had grown husky. "Bo careful," whispered the doctor, as Mary uttered an exclamation of alarm, and he pointed to the young man, whose pale cheek seemed stamped with the hue ofdeath the least excitement, and I cannot save him. You must perceive that your husband is nearly gone; be thankful that he seems so well prepared?and let your grief be as quiet as possible." "How can I," sobbed Mary, with a stiffed voice. "Dear John, won't you rest your head 011 my bosom 1 Oh, how can I, how can I, how can I give you up ?" lie turned his dying eyes upon her with unutterable love ; he leaned towards her, and his long, curled hair fell 011 her bosoin ; his lips moved?the doctor bent, down?"For this my son was lost and is found," issued therefrom ; "it is something of the joy we1 shall all feel when wo meet in Ileaven,isn't it? "Have vou any neighbors?" asked tli kind physician, as wailing subs seemed rend' ing the heart of the poor mourner. "' Then I will send you somebody. lie look: very peaceful and happy?you should Ix more thankful for his slight suffering; I as sure you lie breathed at the last like an in fant?ho will never feel a pain any more." Mary told him she was not afraid to sta\ with her dead ; and the doctor sprang intc the carriage that had been waiting at tin door, and hurried away for assistance. The next morning, frost had gathered tip on the crazy windows of Mary's habitation but the bright tire sent out heat and light into every crevice. Her husband, sheeted for his last home, lay with a happy smile making death beautiful on his wan features The son, still very faint and weak, had beer able to tell his story of wreck, poverty, want and, lastly, good fortune. Adopted by tin rich citizen of a foreign land, he became i thriving merchant, and his only grief wai the silence of his parents. For he had writ i ten tlrcin letter after letter, and as yet receiv ! ed no reply, they having frequently changet their residence into neighboring towns an< cities. At hist ho set forth, leaving the maid en beloved, and to whom lie was betrothed I his prosperous business, and severing all tin ' new biitclosely#knit ties of friendship, to seel i bis parents. From place to place he had fol lowed ttie.ii, grieved to behold in the gradu i :il decline of comfort, in each successive dwelling they had occupied, sure evidence o ! their decaying prospects. Incautiously, whih j stopping at an eating house, in the vicinitl ! of the alloy where ho had learned his parents I lived, he had displayed gold, and, templet 1 by the sight, a villain followed him and fel | led him to the ground, where he must sooi ! have perished. Fortunately, the hulk o j what money he had was dexterously conceal i ed in a belt around bis person, the means t< 1 bring to the home of poverty, luxuries tlia had not gladdened it for many a day. j Poor Mary could not eat. The though , that if he could only bo sharing with he these simple delicacies, if it were but foi once, shut out the faith that should hare scei him feasting on the fruit of Heaven, renew cd in beautiful and perpetual youth?neve to wipe a tear away, never to breathe a sigl again. Even so doth grief for a time cloud evei the glory of revelation. "Mother," said Henry, after the coffin ha< been lowered to its last restim? olace. and tin j few mourners had come back, "I will try U 1 be what he was to you, dear mother. Yoi shall never know want?above all, while live, tho want of love. They told mo in th land of the orange apdthe palm, to bfinj my father nnd my *Kothcr back with me. will tell tbedfto give to ton trie doubiuQpn .dcrness that'they would have theriuhfed fo you both." ^ 4'I have been ungrateful^ murmured Ma ry. as she stood leaning on the arm . of h# yianly son, on the deck of an outward-boon, steamer ; %u]>pose I had been I eft alone h nay soe?ow*with no eyo to weep f?r,no ham to aid me. God fcqpvo mo." And Mary is the'loved inmate of sunn; Indian homo, to-day. -y >F* < I r \ i I 'IS * , * ' - ;* 1 . :$S $? Jb 1Y 23, 1855. , ? ' : . . .?'?I > ? -- | Inniimj JRrnliing. '[ Ihe JLol-d's Sirqyef. 'I What shall one feel in the presence of this blessed prayer ? It in the Lord's prayer. It has been the prayer of bis universal 1 Church! It was this that our mother | taught us. It was the sacred sentences of ' i this prayer thaS first opened our infant lip* ;l with tho language of devotion. It is dear to J 1 our memory ; it is full of the mists and bud-1 j ding desires of childhood; it is perfumed' ! with parents' love; jt is full of suggestions' j of home, brother, and sister, and mother.? | It was the evening prayer. When the sun j had gone down, when shadows stretched ! themselves forth more widely, w hen the i evening stnr hung silent over tho hotizon, I when evening insects were full of chirpings, j and the belated bat Hung himself noiselessly ; about lor bis food ; then, in tiie hush of the J day, bended before a mother's knees, with j little hands innocently put together, and j held in hers, with stammering repetition, we j eeho with our child's voice, tho soft low j voice of mother, as she uttered with love and j we this divinest p'avtr. j It is, therefore, as sacred as use, as love, as j ) memory, as devotion, as the hope of heaven. | 1 and the love of goodness can make it. Noj 1 using will wear it away ; it is like the atmosphere. Stones crumble under continual toot-1 1 steps, the hardest wood will wear under the! softest hands that do ply it for years, but one j may rush through the air forever, and it can- i not be chafed or worn. It hs?s recovering *oree, like fabled spiritual natures, when ] wounded, with instant power to heal itself.? ! And like that ethereal sunlit atmosphere in i this divine prayer, that remains fresh in ev-: erlasting youth ; no uttering can make it trite, no frerjueucy can wear it out, no repe-! titions cart tire the soul of it. It begins life with us, it goes through life dearer at every ' period, and when age begins to shiver and j tremble among our decayed boughs, this is | ; that which, like the damsel sought out for| David, lies in our bosom, and lends us warmth, and breathes another life into our j 1 decaying life ! The Progrees of Infidelity. i It is most earnestly to be deplored that so 5 few who are born in this land, and love . American traditions, are aware of the rapid . natrea ot Uhnstianity and its concomitants. which inspires the vast number who are r yearly increasing our poulation froua the , continent of Europe. We do not speak of ; the convicts and paupers that are smuggled into our ports from Genoa, Hamburg and . Trieste; but of the tens of thousands of Germans who from year to year come from J I provinces of Europe completely pantlieized, i [ and with whom freedom is considered ay-j nonymous with the downfall of the Kingdom of the Redeemer. We called attention some , months ago to the fact, that large numbers of Germans who have come of late years, to ? this country nre disciples of the anarchist j school of Heine, according to whose creed 5 there can be no true freedom until Christi . unity is bloodily abolished, i. e., until a per. Recution by infidels of Christians is Snsiilu] ted, with ends similar to those of Diocletian j or Sapor. We showed that elections had . been made to turn upon the single point, whether praters should be offered to God s in our Legislatures; whether the Lord's day - should be kept, and religious oaths be main. tained. One of the most influential German . papers in this city, published simultaneously, 3 articles warning the letter class of Germans, f of whom thefc are so many in our city, en3 couraging these excesses. Our remarks were r republished in various parts of the United . States, and we trusted tl?nt i rrr>/\d ?/wn!? , t ; b"'"' 1 might be pro]need. Since then, however. . another anniversary has recurred of the , birth-day of Thomas Paine, and it has tillf ed our hearts with shame to learn how the . j natal day of this enemy of God, of hi - Saj ' vior and of his country, has been celeb ated. t The German language constitutes a barrier j which prevents the most of our people from t itnaginuing what takes place behind the r screen of that unknown tongue. The Teur ' tonic dialect ensures he ***i*tenee of the snti^ christian legions, whose large numbers are re.! inforced continually from abroad, as a vast r secret society to which none can have aceo** , who do not' go through an arduous and pains-taking apprenticeship of study, which ! hi the end leaves then* when initiated, onlv among the first dues of novices. Yet its }! members are easily naturalized, become as B speedily as possible citizens of these States, j I carrying Atheism to the polls, and receiving x 1 the homage of demagogue politician!* to ob11 tain a few miserable suffrage* a i A few of the 'T^orww" demanded hv tlie g "Freimaenner"?so they call themselves? i who have set np Thomas Paine as their _ i apostle, and who strive to gain strength to al revolutionize our freagovernnient by the esJtahlishmont of the tyranny of anarchy, are? .. j abolution of the laws for the observance b| rj tiio ?Sabbatli; abolition of oaths in Congress ; jPUbolition of oaths upon the Bible ; no tnorc il' prayers in our legislatures; abolition of tht j. Christian systems of punishment; abolition of the Presidency?of all Senates, of all law ? suits, involving expense; the right <>f the peopld to chinge the Constitution wbenthej . " "* f ,.i i/*,4^ t.'9 '* }&J' ^ f <5rjp W Ltd#* .j NO. 41. like; a reduced term in acquiringcitizensliip, ?kv., dec. These tiling Are not nought after as mera shadows, nor are they the dreams with which vinioflariea amuse themselves, but which do 110 harm. They are seriously incalculated principles, earnestly instilled ; for the propagation of which there exists several chief and many miuor w?c?eties. to whieh hundreds of thousands of foreigners are affiliated wh* are in constant communication with each other, and act in'oonoert, and who are Iwginning to be felt in every comer of the Ian I, biit particularly in the We>t, where their efforts are irreatlv aided hv Lli? rrr?\vin?y lieen. - p ? ? J "* " l>" "" "" tiousness of Abolitionism. , * itttathtg lllisrclljiffj. IffqrMj 11> tfqskr-ilepeqt gf J e 13 if 16. Ts* one of the Western papers wo observe an account of a marriage ceremony, performed on board a steamboat, the pnities never jj having met until they began their voyage -Jr together to the Credent city. The narrative, is given with various flourishes of rhetoric, as if the affair was a subject of p ide and '/ 'JLfjjBjj imitation. Perhaps, in the present instance, ; llic editor may he correct. Hut. as a creneraj rule, the old proverb ij* right whicli says t' at people who '"marry in haste, repent at leisu re." We cannot approve consequently, of the applause bestowed on transactions like this. There are foolish couples enough in the world, ready to rush into matiimonv without forethought, and prepared to think that it is a fine thing to have the cermonv come off in some striking manner, so as to attract public attention, without having this weakness fed by eulogistic newspnper paragraphs. The evil is becoming a really serious one.? Kverv few weeks some new ? . ? "Kpears respecting a pair who have wedded on short intimacy. The last one. we believe chronicled a marriage after a few hour's acquaintance. If things goon, accelerating in j this fashion, American weddings will yet I emulate to Chinese ones, for it will he con; sidered incst in the mode to marry without J meeting at all. It has been said that "marriage is a lot* ! terv." No one ever questioner) that it was, I when people wedded on a short acquaintance; but tho remark is not true, if inado j respecting marriages after a due intimacy, j No doubt, the closest fiiendship, hcfo; e mar: ringe, will be unsufficient to meet intirely j the mutual characters of. the pair to eaeli I other. But, in proportion to the length of the acquaintance, and the common sen<e of i the lovers, will be their knowledge of the foibles of ono another. Nor is this. all Even in the caso of very young lovers, who have not yet taken to observing character, if they are thrown familiarly together, in j the social circle of the bride's family, they I cannot but assimilate to each other in time, i so tliAt the risk of marriage i.^jjreat'y lessened. But when matrimony is contracted, upon an acquaintance of but few hours, or even days, the chances are frightfully great that the pair will not suit eaJi otlie^ Another ridiculous, if not culpable pracI lice, much lauded in some newspapers, is j oddity, and therefore peculiar noto. ictx in tho marriage. Sonic time ago. u wedding was held in the Mammoth Cave. Before that, one occurred on a Bridge, just at the j dividing lino, if we rememl>er correctly, l>e; tween two Stutes. All these beaks are peri petrnted f?>r a secret love of publicity. They j flow from the name unmnidenlv spirit which ; aspire*.after ornate bridal ch-imbots at hotels, i and on boaid >teamboat*. It is not flattering to the sex of this country, that just when feminine woman shrinks from all notoriety, i so many btides are found to braxen it ou*., ! courting notice by the oddity of the ceremoj ny, or by the marked character of their j dress and demeanor. ! Tnr. vcnernble Peter Piekleby ?aid to Ids son .labez, "Head your Bible?study the i laws of Mien and don't repeal any of them. Mind ib?* Ten Commands, tu. and the Ele*intli I k wise ?and don't sell the birthright ! of a Yankee n ation for a mess of pota?h ; . Atik the day may kum when von'll be a minister of the penitentiary, or a secretary of nowgaliou." Theru in nn nnedote told of one of the Piscataqua Associated*, who addrtasii g a society of tLhei men, wishing to adapt hi* discourse to the understanding of his hearers, i he inquired, "Supposing in a huge northeast i storm you should be ealight iu the hay?your j heart* all trembling with fear, and nothing but death before you, whither would you turn? To whom would you fly f'1 Oiw of the , hearer*, arrested *hy the deseripti WJ called ' out?-4,VVhr, in lliat case, I should hoiat the ' foresail and stand away for Sqara," ' A liquor dealer in Yolo county allow# I a , temperance lecturer to deliver an address, | thinking it a good joke. Twenty-two of the audience signed (he pledge and qgf oized a , temperance Lodge. The l*ndloo^efus?fc a , i*c ?id #ppHo#tion. -jv jir jp.