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0 VOL. 1. GREENVILLE. S. FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 13, 1855. NO. 48. ??g????a?x? ??a?wnawayai w?m?mm??w????^? ???????^?? ? ?? lit fumtljcnt (intrrjirlse, A UKKLEX OK I'Ol'ULAU EVENTS. | 4 "" ' wiw^'ia i?3 ipraiia&a, ? DITOR AND PROPRIETOR. i - ri" "TH." 13L?2 mVL mn &bSrn *A 50, pnvnhlc in advance ; $2 if ili'liiywL (UiirftS of FIVE nii'l upwards ?l, the ntouoy 1b every'instance to aeomupnuy the order. ADV'KKTI^KMENT.a inserted conspicuously nt ttle rates of 75 cents per square of 3 lines, and cents for cneh subsequent insertion. Contracts yearly advertising mmlo reasonable. [w. r. r.",c? * nuoniwu, imiixtku*.] . fdcrteit ^uftri). jVfpHj flop. I will not woil the farmer's 6<>n Said Mary Ann, the Merchant's (laughter, 'Till rivers to their sources run, Aud flow with milk instead of water. J cannot wed the farmer's son, To milk his cows and churn his butter, To mind his brats where'er tlicy run, And be forever in a splutter. I'll never wed the farmer's son, 'Till thorns bear grapes, ami figs the thistle, I'll take the veil nml be. a nun. First, that I will?so let him whistle! Hut she has wed the farmer's son, This Mary Ann, the Merchant's daughter, "A'nr iln tlm VitfAfu l\>tiiL'trnPfl rim Nor flow with milk instead of water. Yes, she l?a* wed the farmer's son, Nor have tliey changed?the thorn and thistle, Across the flelds their urchins run. And hy the plow she hears him whistle. Slit Sutfrfsting ?tari|. 11) c &1 q c k s h) i t i), OF THE MOUNTAIN PASS. At the entrance to one of those gorges, or gaps in the great Apalachian chain, of niountiaus, in Hieir pitssage across the northern portion of Georgia, a blacksmith had erected his forge in the early settlement of that region by the Anglo-American race, and drove; a thrifty trade in the way of facing axes and j 'pointing plows for the settlers, and shoeing ! morses for wayfaring people in their transit; 'through tho country to examine gold mines and land. As lie was no ordinary personage in tho affairs of his neighborhood, and will make j a conspicious figure in this narrative, some account of his peculiarities will not be uninteresting. Having acted through life on a Ihomely maxim of his own?"pay up as you | go up''?ho had acquired sonje money and avas out of debt, and consequently enjoyed "dho glorious privilege of being independent" tin a degree that is unknown to many who octcupy a larger portion of tho world's attention than himself, lie was a burly, well-looking man of thirty-five, just young enough to feel that all his faculties, mental and physical, 'had reached their greatest development, and just old enough to have amassed sufficient experience of men and things, to mako the past serve as a linger-post to his future jour4toy.hrough Ijfe. With a shrewd, but open. Ixwr and honest look, there was a gleeful expression in the comers of his eyes that apokeoffun. The "Jaugliing devil in his % -eye" was not a malicious spirit, however. Ilis ntitretrfVil AniifArmnfi^n titlmf nrliiolt a/mm. h'mjnivtti wiiivi uit(iiv/|i ? iimv "iiivii Will' bined great *trcnglh with agility, and if he had Ibcen a cotemporary of hid groat prototype, Vulcan, there can ho no doubt but tho Lemviinn blacksmith would have allotted to him -a front forge in hid establish incut, to act as a ?ort of pattern-card, and to divert the public gaxefrora hli own game leg to the fair proportions of his foreman. Now, although Ned Korgcron, for such was iliS U&lftC ho had inherited from somo Gallio ancestor, was a good nntured man, yet the * possession of great muscular strength and courage, and the admiration which a successful exercise of these powers never fails to command, had somewhat spoiled him. \\ itiiout meaning to injure any mortal, he had managed, nevertheless, to try his prowess on sundry of his neigltbors, and from the success which always crowned Ins honest ellbrt* in that way, had unoonsciuusly nctptirod the character of a ImUy. With very few early advantages of elementary education, he had, nevertheless at different period* collected a massofhe'orngejieoua Information, which ho was very fond *4 displaying on ocoastont. lie was n sort of political anti.pmry, and could toll the opinion of Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Madison, on #n/ subject, and was referred to on all disputed points of tho theory and 4??tory of the government that arose among tho candidates for tho legislating and country politicians. This ho studied on account of tho conso<0 ?ptenoe it invested him with. Hut why he hod treasured up an old and well thuminod copy of PainyV. "/Vge of Reason," and aftvcod scepticism as to the Votacity of the story Jonah and the whale and HaUam and his a&s would be bard accounted for unless it proceed fioin the desiro of n cliaractcr for |singularity and erudition. When vanity once tho mastery of a man's reason, there is no telling the absurdities it will lead hitn into, lie was fond of speaking of Y'olney.nnd l>omg found with a copy of Taylor's "Diegesls'' in bis hand, although few of his neighbors bad heard of the author of the 1' Itnins, " or knew what Diegeai* meant. This peculiarity, together with tho per uuaciiy oi mo missionaries Worcester and Butler, which carried them to a penitentiary, may account for tho great aversion of Mr. Edward Forgeron. to all preachers of the tiospel. JIUf dislike for them was so excessive, that ho could scarcely speak of the 'hypocritical scoundrels," as lie called them, with out flying into a passion aud using indecorous language. But a circumstance occurred which gave hn ztjl a distinct and sectarian direction. A Methodist preacher over in Tennessee, who who was fond of spicing his discourses w it It anecdote, once made the blacksmith the principal character in along sermon. His peculiarities were dilated on and his heresies dealt with becoming severity, lie was ridiculed, and his literary acquirements disparaged by the preacher. All this came to the cursor Forgeron, with such additions and embellishments as stories usually receive in passing to a third person. It would be as useless to attempt to dcscribo a mountain storm as to picture the wrath of this mountaineer. But if we cannot portray the storm, the consequence may bo easily told. The blacksmith swore in bis word, hi* would. whip every Methodist prcaclwr that jxtssed 'the gap, in revenge of his insult. Forgeron was a man of the word, as the bruised feature* of many of John Wesley's disciples would testify*. His character soon went abroad, and the good old matrons of the surrounding counties on each side of the mountain, trembled at his name. In short the mountain pass, which was really as romantic a place as a landscape painter would seek for a picture, and was just the spot to remind a youth fresh from his classic studies, of the place where Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans fell, in attempting to defend Grecco against tho army of Xerxes, hut iu despite of the grandeur of its beetling cliffs, and the beauty of its verdure, it was associated in tho minds of many pious persons, with tho broad gate that leads to do struction. And Ned Forgeron, the handsome blacksmith, was invested with the attributes and hideous aspect of his Satanic majesty, by many a ^mountain girl, who would doubtless have fallen in "love at first sight" with him, under any other name. The preacher whose circuit lay on either side of tho mountain, at the time Ned's direful edict was promulgated to tho world, was a meek and lowly man, who approached nearly iu his natural disposition, to willing obedience to tho mandate, relative to turning the cheek to the smitor. The poor soul passed many sleepless nights iu view of the fate that awaited thini at the mountain pass. In his dreams, he saw F??rgoron with a huge sledgehammer in hand, | ready to dash out his brains and would start with such violence as to wake himself. lie inquired if there was no other place at which s the mountain could be passed, only to learn I his doom more certainly. Being a timid i man, but withal devoutly impressed with a | sense of duty, ho resolved to discharge his duties faithfully, bo the consequences what they might. Like a lamb going to the slaughter did he wendjhisway townrd the fap; as he camo in front of the shop, the lackamith was striking tho last blow on a shovel, and singing away to the tunc ol I "Clear tho kitchen'? "Old Georgia in n nolile State, Her laws are good, and her people great." On catching a glimpse of the poor parson, who had flattered himself that he was about to pass with impunity, Ned sung out?"stop there, j'ou eternal shad-belly, and pay the penalty for my injured reputation." The holy man protested innocence of having ever intentionally injured him, by word or deed. The man's subdued looks and earnest J voice, had half dissuaded Ned from his stern , purpose, when the giggling of his striker and 1 the cheering of two or throe idlers, nerved him to do what he felt was mean. Let any one pause a moment, and reflect if ho h:u ; never heen urged on to acts his conseicnct isroo'-c him for, by the opinion of others, l*y ; foro Mr. Forgeron is sentenced as a devil The preacher received several boxes on lib his ears, and heard many denunciation! against his sect before he was admitted tc j dospart; ami when that permission was re : ceived, he was not slow in availing hiinsel of the privilege. At the next annual conference when clr ' cuits wero assigned to tho ditforont preachers this one made his ap|>earance punctually bill some nroccss of casuistry convinced bin I that hi* duty did not cull for n revelation o his offerings' It* lie was too KOiiaitive of tin blacksmith'* character to expose it to rnd< remark, or if ho had h preference that roiw worthier brother should occupy that. hcnlthi station among the mountains, is diilh-nlt t? conjecture. Hut h'orgorHon'a reputation luu extended beyond the circuit, and was d?n< [ itmplo nnd severe justice to l?y others win . had heard of his fame. It axm became the ouljcct of animated conversation, and there j was no Utttlc wincing, each ^(me fearing it I would be his cruel fate to be sent a victim to appease the wrath of this human minotaur against the Methodist Church. After a time it was decre hi that the Ileverend Mr. Stubbleworth was the doomed individual, and when tlw annunciation came, i many an eye of mingled pity and curiosity was turned on his ruddy, good-natured face, to see how the dispensation was home, but not n muscle moved. With a quiet smile i no proiesseu a pcrtect willingness to go whore , lie was sent. He was "clay in the hands of tlia potter," ho said. If lie piqued himself ' on n stolid indifference to the blacksmith's | punnnclings, or if lie relied on his ample dimensions to protect himself, he never disclosed, but .appeared as self satisfied and eontent as ever. J lis predecessor looked for all the world like a mouse just escaped from the fangs of some terrible grimalkin. | Mr. Stubhlcworth arranged his few sublunary affairs, and bidding bis friends adieu, mounted bis old roan and departed for his . new home of trials, with a song of praise on ' his lips. Let ns hope the best for liiin. cii.vptkii ii. The Kcv. Mr. Stubbleworth was very much pleased with his new situation. Having been transfered from a level pine-woods : country, near tho confines of Korida, the novs ! city of mountain scenery and a pare, bracing atmosphere, seoined to inspire him with new life. Complimenting all the mothers, on the singular beauty and intelligence of their ehilI dren, with a delicate allusion to their own personal appearance, he soon became a general favorite. Mi. atubbleworth "knew which side of his bread the buffer was on." The time arriving forjiis departure to visit the t~nmon(nne portion of his pastoral earo, he was warned of the dangers lie was about to encounter, but they wore heard with the same placid smile. The worthy ladies pictured to Iiiin "I'liiliiorns iliri> " siilfii>ii>iit In Imvn abated tho zeal of any other individual. Hut that gentleman quieted their fears, by appealing to the power that "tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," with a eontenanee as lamb like as could bo imagined. And he departed, singing? "At home or abroad, on the land, on the sen. ; As thy wants may demand shall thy strength ever he." i I They watched him until his portly person and horse grew dim in the distance, and I turned away, sighing that such a good man should fall into the hands of that monster, the blacksmith. , Forgeron had heard of his new victim, and rejoiced that his size and appearance furnished a better subject for his vengeance than the attenuated frame of the late parson. Oh, what nice beating he would have ! lie had heard, too, that souio Methodist preachers were rather spirited, and'hoped this one might prove so, that lie might provoke him to light. Knowing the clergyman must pass on Saturday in the afternoon, lie gave his striker holiday, and reclining on a bench regaled liiinI self with the beauties of Tom I'uitic, await ing the arrival of the preacher. | It was not over an hour beforo lie heard : the word? ' Ib?\i happy are they who their Savior ohev. And have laid up their treasures above."? sung in n fill, clear voice, and soon the vo' enlist, turning the angle of a rock, rode leisurely up, with contented smile on his lips. "1 low are von, old slab sides! (.Jet oft . your horse and join my devotions," said the j blacksmith. "1 have many miles to ride." answered the preach* r, "and liavn't time, my friend. I'll call as 1 return." , "Your name is Stubblcworth, and you are . the hypocrite the Methodists have sent here, > J eh ? ', "My nanio is Stubblcworth," he replied meekly. "Hid'nt you know my name was Nod I Forgorou, the blacksmith, what whips every Method!*: preacher that goes through this : gup J" was asked with an audacious look, i' "And how dare you come here I" I The preacher replied that he had heard I Mr. Forgoron's name, but presumed that lie . ! a: i .... .,?n k?i 1 i "You presumed so ! Ye*, you nro (lie > most presumptions people, yon Methodist, \ that ever (rod shoe-leather, any how. NY ell .' whnt'l you do if I don't whip you this time > you beef-headed disciple, you ?" (I Mr. Stuhhleworth professed his willingness > to do nnv tiling reasonable to avoid such penance. f "Well, there's three things you have to do, or I'll maul you into a jellv. The first is, - you are to quit preaching: tficsecond is. yon . must wear this last will and testamentol t Thomas Paine, next to your heart, rend il i j every day, and bclievo every word you read f and the third is you, are to curse the Methi, odists in every crowd you get into." '! The preacher looked on during these nov * el prop.<*itions, without a line of his being i* mover!, and at tho end replied, that tin > terms were unreasonable, and lie would no I; submit to them. t "NV all, you have got a aha liny to s*b >; tuit to then. I'lllairup you like bla/f.>! I'l % ' tear you into doll-rag*, corner ways! Get ' down, you buggar." The preacher remonstrated, and Forgeron 1 walked up to the horse and threatened to tear him oft", if lie did not dismount, where- j upon the worthy man made u virtue of necessity, and alighted. I I 4,1 have hut one request to m ike, my i friend, that is that you wont l?cat me with this overcoat on. It. was a present from the ladies of my la?t circuit, and I do not wish , to liavo it torn." | "< )tF with it, and that suddenly, you basin faced imp, you." .The Methodist preacher slowly drew off' his surcoat, as the blHck'.inith continued his. , tirade of abuse on him self and his sect, and I as he drew his right hand from tho sleeve, and threw the garment behind him, ho dealt [ Mr. Forgeron a tremendous blow between his eyes, which laid that person at full length on the ground, with the tvnUtm '/if of Tlioiuos l\iino beside biin. The ltev. Mr. Stubbleworth, with the tact of a eonnosseur in such matters, did not wait for his a Iversary to rise, but mounted him with the quickn >ss ofa cat, and as ho bestowed his blows, with a bounteous hand, on the stomach and f iee of the blacksmith, continued his song where "lie had left off, on his arrival at the smithy ? I 'Tongue cannot express the sweet comfort nnd peace. Of a soul in its earliest love." I'ntil Mr. Forgeron, from having expcii1 enccd "first love," or some other sensation equally new to him, responded lustily, " Nongh '. "Nough !?Take him off!" Hut unfortunately there was no one l > perform I that office, exc?q>t the old roan, and he munched a bunch of grass and looked on as' quietly as if his master was ;,t a camp-tnecting, j "Now," said Mr. Stubleworth, "there arc ; "three things yon must promise m*, before 1 I let you up." "What are they I" asked Forgeron, eu-i I ?ol ,r . . I I "The first, is, that you will never molest a , Methodist preacher again." Here Ne<J'a pride rose, and he hesitated, i ami the reverend gentleman, with his usual j benign smile on his face, renewed his blows ' and sang? ? "1 role on the sky, freely justified I, Ami the Moon it was under my feet." I This oriental language overcame the black -1 ' smith Such bold figures, or something else, caused hiln to sing out, "Well, I'll do it? I'll do it." "You are getting on very well," said Mr. Stubhleworth. "1 think I can make a decent man of you yet, and perhaps a christian." Ned groaned. "The second thing I require of you is, to j go to Puinpkinvino Creek meeting house, ' and hear me preach to-morrow." Ned attempted to stammer out some ex-' cusc. "I?1?that is?" When thedivine resumed his devotional liyniu, and kept time with the music l>v striking him over the face with the fleshy part i of the hand? "Mv soul iik>tint<-<1 hiirhcr, on n chariot of lia-, Nor did envy Klijuh his seat." Ned's promise of punctuality*caused the parson's exercise to cea>e, and the words, redo' lent of gorgeous imagery, died away echoes from the adjacent crags. "Now, the third ami Inst demand I make of you is peremptory," Ned was all attention to know what was to conic next. "Von are to promise to seek religion, day ' and night, and never rest till you obtain it at the hands of a merciful Redeemer." The fallen man looked at thedecliuing sun, and then at the parson, and knew not what to say, w hen the latter individual began to raise bis voice in song once more, and Ned ii knew what would come next. "I'll do my best," lie said, in an bumbled t \*oiec. "Well, that's a man," Mr. Stubblewortli 1 said. "Now get up and go down to the branch and wash your face, and dust you clothes, and tear up Mr. Panic's testni j mcnt, and turn your thoughts on high." Ned arose with feelings, he had never experienced before, and went to obey the lavatory injunction of the preacher, when that i) gentleman mounted his horse, took Ned by ! i lie hand and said, "Keep your promise and : I'll keep your counsel. Liood evening, Mr. rorgcron; i ll look fur you to-morrow, ami 1 off ho rodo with tho samo imperturbable countenance, singing so loml as to scare the eaglets from from their reverie in tho overhanging rocks. "NV.cll," thought No.!, "this is a nice busj incss ! What would the people say if they knew Kdwurd Forgeron was wliipt before his 1 own door in the gap, and by a Afrthwlint i preacher, too? But his inudngs "more in f sorrow than in anger." , fit AI'TKIl 111. The disfiguted countenance of I*01 gersou was ofcourse, tho subject of numerous rjues r tions that night among his friends, to which ? ho replied, with astern look they well uni derstood, and the vaguo remark that ho had m-t with fin nrxidenh Of com ae they never . dreamed of the true eadse. Forg?ron look|tol ill tht jlik!), ittt'l perhaps compared the changing hues of hi* "black eye from .a re- {' cent sen file," to llic rainbow in ilio ship- i wreck scene, blending every color into one." ' Or perhaps he had never read that story, and i only inbttercd to himself, "Ned Korgcron whipped by a Methodist preacher." llis dreams that night were of a confused j a d iiia green bio nature, and waking in tlie j morning bo bad nn in distinct memory of j something unpleasant having occurred. At j first, he could not recollect the cause of his < feelings; hut the bruises on his fico and i body, noon called them to miiul, as well as tlie promise. lie mounted his hor.e in si- j' Icnco, mill went to redeem it. From that time, his whole conduct niani- j1 fested a change of feeling. The gossips of i the neighborhood observed it, and whispered ;1 that Ned was silent and serious, an I had g no ;? to meeting every Sunday since the accident. . j They wondered at his burning the books lie j< used to read so much. Strange stories were j1 circulated as to this metainorphos of the jov- i < ial, dare-devil blacksmith, into a gloomy and l< taciturn man. Some supposed, very sagely, that a spirit *' had enticed him into the ;' mountains, and after giving hint a glimpse ' into the future, had misled him to a crag. : where he had fallen and bruised bis face. j < >;hers gave the prince of darkness the credit of the change: but none suspected the Mcth- e dist preacher, and as tlic latter gentleman ; had no vanity to gratify, the secret remained ! with Ned. This gloomy state of mind continued until Korgeron visited a camp-meeting. The Ucv. Mr. Stuhhleworth preached a sermon that seemed to enter his soul, and uTuvc it of a harden, and the song of, "ihr.v bappv arc tliev, who their Savior obey." J was only half through when he felt like a ' new man. Forgcron was from that time a shouting Methodist. At a love-feast a short time subsequent, he gave in his experience, and revealed the )>i;/!ttcr>j of his conviction and conversion to his astonished neighbors. The Kev. Simon Stubl>!"wnrt-h, who had i j .1 * .! . 11iiiii1k?']ii mo secret mini nun. iiiik* ' I'oiiM contain himself no longer, but gave vent to his feelings in convulsive peals of laughter, as the burning tears of heartfelt joy coursed their way down his cheeks.? " my brethren," he said, "it's all a fact. 1 diil maul the i/race into his unbelieving soul, there's no doubt" The blacksmith of the mountain pass became a happy man, and a Methodist preach- ' er. M aeon Ma. J 3ntcrating lUisrrllniuj. I) i) if out- to) o Skscciiocj if oo in. Tiiu college is a large building fronting i on one of the streets running parallel with ' Broadway. Mounting several flights of' stairs, and going through two long and nar- !' row passages, we came to an ante-room, in ! which my friends hung up their overcoats, deposited their umbrellas, nnd rcleivcd tin m, selves of outside encumbrances generally.? i Opening a drawer located with several oth-! ers at the right of the room, one./ the young ! gentlemen drew forth a sort of wrapper or domino, made of black glazed muslin?with j the glazing nearly worn oil". 1 tunning this ' garment, he walked up mother flight of, stairs, followed bv his chum?who. disdaining a wrapper, had merely rolled up his sleeves?ami myself. While wailing in the room below 1 had noticed a disagreeable odor which saluted my nostrils and reminded ine of the perfume , of decayed cabbages. I knew, of course, i that this stench proceeded from the human I remains on the floor above, and made up my mind to endure it as best I might. I did l | not dream, though, that it would be very . ...Anlll* ItlAOAtlAAil Ittk.kll .AArtllllir. fti.k li.l, i.l ' the last flight of stairs?hut it wax. How 1 mortal man could inlialc such an intol- | ' erable atmosphere for nay protracted length 1 of time, I confess beyond my ken. I can I not account for the indifference of the stu- i dents, who pass several hours daily in the I i society of the defunct, except upon the liv-j . pothesis that they have sheet-iron lungs or cauterized noses. This "theatre of anatomy'' was a spacious i apartment, well lighted by an abundance of j side windows and skylight overhead. St Hiding about the room in convenient positions, were, perhaps twenty high and narrow tables or forms, upon each of which was stretched all that remained of a frame once endowed w ith life, health, thought, and feelJ ing. Around each of the tables stood several stools for the accommodation of dissectors, ami suspended about the walls were a number of large anatomical drawings. < hi one side of the apartment was a washing-! trough, plentifully supplied with basins, : soap, etc., and nearby were hung thenceom j pauying towels?which, by the way, I should have I icon sorry to use. I lust witliin the railing at the top of the stairs stood olio of the tallies I have attempt ed to desciiho, and stretched out upon it was the body of an old man. The free was covered with n grizzly heart I, and here and there upon the skull might be seen patches of thin gray hair The head war th owi; back run! I the lovi er jaw had I'tllen, presenting ; a !!? > t lioni'ole >p"i ta<;h>. I'lie entire bi>d\ was hi uck from mortification; and fr'bih 1*^ neath the skin of the log, which ft student was cutting upon, oozed forth a thin, clam* my moisture. My friend with the roiled up sleeves took liis place nt the head of another table, bearing the form of an apparently young female, who had evidently died of a long and wasting disease?most probably Consumption. There were the attenuated limbs, which . once, peihaps, bore their owner through the mazes of the dance; there the bony fingers which iu life may have glistened with gems " of purest i ay serene ; " there the sunken, pallid cheek, once rosy with maiden blushes ; there the cold, impassive lips, once wreathed in smiles or pouting in vexation. And tvl?eu that young creature became a victim to the jrenu uesi rover, who, ot her weeping Irienrl-o us tliev consign oil lior body to its parent ?arth, dreamed that in another day the form they had loved would lie exposed to the inlillerent gaze of college professors, students, nod strangers ? "1 say," said my friend of the rollej-tip decves, calling my attention to his operations; 1 if you'd come here I'll show the lady's bruins." The skull had been removed, exposing the interior of the head. I looked on with the determination, now that I was "in for it," to , see all I could, and take particular care not to ho caught on these premises again. "Here's the jugular vein," said Saw-tones, at the same time raising with the forceps the part indicated. "Stop a mi nil to. nud I'M blow it up." Taking from the case of instruments beside him a small silver tube, he proceeded to do so. Then with a small, shrap knife, called a "scalpel," he cut away the Mesh from a number of other veins, nerves, and arteries, exhibiting them to mn. in a manner that would have been edifying perhaps, bad I been able to understand a word of it. After this diverting bit of work, together with some pleasant remarks scarcely adapted to after breakfast repetition, Sawbones scrap* cd his lingers, on the edge of the table, and taking from his pocket a short pipe and plug of cavendish tobacco, clipped the latter with his pen-knife, filled his pipe, and smoked with delectable gusto. Meanwhile I turned to another student who was engaged, as he informed me, in ascertaining "what a woman's back was made of;" in other words, he was dissecting the parts adjoining the spine. The body had evidently been divided among a number of stuoenis. ai :tn events, me morsel my new friend was anatomizing was destitute of head or legs. The student seemed to have made considerable progress in his labors, havind?" carefully looscnod a large portion.of the outer cuticle, the folds of which were hold up from the flesh beneath bv means of a small chain furnished with hooks at both end*, one of which was fastened in the shin of the "subject" and the other to the edge of the table beneath. The callous young Ilypoerates smiled compassionately at the look of horror which I could not help bestowing upon him, and slashed away with professional stoicism. Unnblc longer to gaze with indifference' upon the sickening spectacle, and growing nervous at the thought that 1 might be inhaling the germ of some dread disease, I began now to think of beating a retreat. A large stove in tlio middle of the apartment grew red with heat, the windows were all close*!', and the odor of the dissecting room became more unbearable every instant, booking around me. I saw all the, students still hnsrfv engaged at their teniblc avocation, all unmindful of the stench, which was to nic so insufferably offensive. Most of the bodies had been under "treatment" for several days ?some of them I was told had been theie a month. They were in every stage of decomposition, and the poison which is nlwnvs injected as soon as they arc brought to til* college by the re ttrreetioni ts. was insufficient to retard their decay. In addition t<-? the d read fit I odor, my sense of sight was alsooutraged by the terrible spectacle everywhere presented. IleadJess truuks ; here aiv arm, there a log ; ghastly countenances and giinning corpses, all telling, mutely hut eloquently, of what foul been ami was uo1 wvore ?these were not objects calculated to charm the unaoeastomcd beholder. I could stand it fro longer. Hushing down | the stairs, and threading my way quickly i through iii< narrow hall, I paused not until I had passed the college doors ami stood 1 once more in the open street?the blue heavens nliovc me, themuddy street wneatb, and the fresh air of the sea-bound >*lntul rushing into my longing lungs. I>o.?j?ito the horrors 1 have witnessed, T can not conscientiously iegret tny visit of an , hour to a dissecting room. As a jwcHliarly I eccentric friend of mine would say, "It was edification.** I tw* I Goon Louie.'?"Itrudder Jones, can you tell tno the ditl'eronco 'tween dying and db 1 oting r "Whv ob course T can, Saimfcl. When you diet you lib on nnfihi, and when yai die you hub noflin to lib on.*' "Well dill's different from wfint I lorrt it was, T tort it was a taec ntwa en de do- tori .' '-tuff nrv'l rtrirw.ition, to see which 'vi l l-i !tVt."