The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, October 26, 1855, Image 1
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U VOL 2. GREENVILLE, S. 0.: FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 26, . ^ S 'NO. 24^1
jlt ^otii|fci! (Enterprise,
A REFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS.
wamiLa^rca s>. jpianoa^
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
rac^JLajMLiMcflBi* "
Dl 50, -payable in advance ; |2 If delayed.
CLUBS of FIVE and upwards ?1, the money
in every instance to accompany the order.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at
the rates of 76 cents per square of 3 lines, and
U cents for each snbsequent insertion. Contracts
for yearly advertising made reasonable.
IruausnKO ar r. t. raict.7
Splprfph l^npfrit
T"" 3*
Ibe Soolncd .
There is a time, we know not when,
A point we know not where,
That mark.* the destiny of men
To glory or despair.
, Thete U a line by us unseen,
That crosses every path ;
The hidden boundary between
(KkTh patience and bi? wiuih.
To pas* that limit w to die.
To die as if by stealth;
It d?>ea not quench the beaming eye,
Or pale tlio glow of health.
*fhe conscience may be still atsxwe.
The .spirit* light and gay;
That which is pleasing still may please.
And care be thrust away.
lblt on that fare^fad God has set,
Indellibly a mark,
Unseen by man, for man as yet
Is blind and in the dark.
And yet the "doomed man's path below.
Like Eden may have bloomed;
He did not, does not, will not know
Or feel that he is doomed.
lie knows, he feels, that all is well,
A nr! Al'?rv o.l.n.,1 '
- ?
II? live*, he dies, he wakes in hell,
Not only doomed, but damned.
O where is this mysterious bourne,
By which our path is crossed;
Beyond which, God himself hath sworn/
. That he who goes is lost ?
How far may we go on in sin !
How long will God forbear?
Where does hope end ? and where begin
The confines of despair?
Aii answer from the skies is sent:
Y? that from God depart 1
While it is called to-day repent!
And harden not your heart.
? Jiamnnrt of JUal life.
~~THE LOVELETTERT
OR,
LOST AHP FOUND,
BY MIRIAM P. HAMILTON.
Robert Thacy sauntered along the piin
cinaJ street of the thriving town of Carlisle,
lilting his hat and iiowing gracefully to the
numerous ladies of his acquaintance, whom
be met on their way to th? stores of Messrs.
Ridcliff*/%<>?.. and their brother merchants.
&!! o? ?rhotn s* *ho daily papers informed I
those whom it might concern, had "just re.
oeived from New York, a fresh supply of
goods, constating <*F"? what is quite unneceesary
for us to particut^rUe, as it was duly
set forth in the aforesaid papers, together
with the unparrelleled low prices at which
these articles were to be had; since all the
merchants had adopted the motto, 'large
sales and small promts.'
Many were the winning smiles of the fair
sbojxrt that greeted Mr. Tracy's low bow*,
( at>a many were the pleasant look* that seemed
to invite him, or so the vanity of bis sex
led him to imagine, to turn and ioin them
on their expedition. But be bad been shopping
before now, when be was yoanger and
more experienced, and not even the bewitching
smile ad.Miss Lizzie RhIeigh the acknowledgeable
of Carlisle, as she tripped
by could taveigldghiga. into the snare, lie
remembered tootgfijMkfo former experience ?
?the sitting tofSm&mpr or saore, by a
wretch ! who had been twisting about uneasily
on hie rotary stool all this time, and who
was obliged to confess his utter inability to
help them out of their dilemma; then the
"decision to look a little farther," at which
he, as well as the clerk, had inwardly groaned
in bitterness of spirit, and the repetition
of this procedure at nearly every store in the
town: these were some of the reminiscences
of his first'going shopping,' and while the
la ies grew more voluble and more oblivious
of hiin in their consultations, lie had had
leisure to make a solemn vow, which he had
not as yet fell tempted to break, never again
go shopping with ladies.
Miss Lizzie did not know this, or she might
have been spared wondering if she had offended
Hubert Tracy in any way, tbat he did
not join licr, as he usually did, when he met
her on hi* walks; he, meanwhile,strolled on,
his fine cyea cast down, apparently in deep
meditation, though if the truth roust be
kii'iwn, hU thoughts were on no important
object than what he should do with himself
?n problem of pretty difficult solution, considering
the idle, aimless life ho led.
To be sure he had a profession?that of
the law?-and talent enough to make him
eminent, had he chosen to apply himself;
but, unfortunately ho was wealthy and there
whs no occasion for burying himself in musty
book:?; so, after leaving college and the law
school, he tosstd all aside and determined to
enjoy himself.
One would have thought this no difficult
tnsk, situated as was Robert Tracy, blessed
with youth, health and wealth ; but ho soon
found time drag heavily on his hands. '
He determined to travel, and for a tiro
thought he had ditfeovered the road to hap
piness; but ere long, he wearied of sightseeing,
of strange places,- strange tongues
and strange faces, and returned to bis native
land. lie made acquaintances, friendt as
the}* called themselves, but, as he saw more
of society, its emptiness disgusted him ; he
took no pleasure in the wild and riotous
scenes of dissipation into which his would-be
friends would have plunged him, and, at the
aMof twenty-seven, Robert Tracy was weaiWof
himself and the world.
What should he do with himself, for this
one day! Ridel' Go fishing or gunning!
Read, or call oti the ladies !
Pshaw 1 he was tired of all these amusoments.
Suddenly his eye rested on a letter
which lay on the sidownlk before him.
Somebody had Jropped it; he would carry
it to the post-office?that would use up a
half hour of his time.
He picked it up and turned it over; there
was no address, and it was unsealed. Perhaps
it was a hand bill done up in this way
to attract attention : but no?it was written
?he would look at it; the address might be
inside and it might be of importance.
He unfolded it. It was in a lady's hand
willing?not one of the ordinary wiitiugschool
stamp, but firm, though delicate and
rathe: peculiar. He had a theory about
ju<g ng the c'larac'erf.om the handwriting,
ami this was so original that it attracted him
He glanced at the beginning of the letter.
"My dear John"?John who I John wn?
anybody ; John Smith, perhaps. IIo turned
it over, and looked at the signature. "Flora
;n that gave him no further information,
and, impelled by curiosity, he bagan to road
the epistle.
"My Dear Joiix.?I have been sitting for
the Inst half hour, with my pen in my fingors,
puzzled myself as to what I should say in
this, my first love letter.
"If I was a gentleman, now, I might fill
up my sheet with pretty flattering speeches
and tender epithets; but I don't imagine you
would be delighted wore 1 to ad I you nn angel,
though 1 presume you are just as near
being ono as I am, or any one of my sex : so
that is out of the Question. Then, if I were
to uudortnko to tell you how much affection
I felt for you, why?love speeches don't look
welt in black and white, and if they did,
what would be the use of filling up this in making
known the fact that I love yoti very
dearly, expressing this one idea in ieu thousand
different forms. Isn't it a self-evident
proposition, needing no demonstration, other
than the fact of my scratching off these lines
to you! I should get tired of it, if you didn't,
so we'll dismiss that topic too. And now
what is left me to write about f Why, a
plenty of subiects. so vou need'nt look orrave
y 0 w 0 ^ w"
10 anticipating in future thorl letters; you
ought, rather, to groan under the impending
deluge of ink which I foresee for you, for
I just intend, in this and other epistles that
may follow in its wake, to think on paper,
to jot down whatever first comes into this
good-for-nothing head of mine,
"Its very pleasant to have a friend to
wjiom we can open our secret souls, and say
all that we think and feel, without fear of
being misunderstood; to apeak of all that is
highest and poreat in our nature, without
fear of moeting a sneering emiie, or a scoffing
reply; to know that our aspirations,
hopes and aims are the same?to cultivate
all the powers that God has given us. and do
all io our power to elevate those around as:
and it is because they will enable us to do so
much mora good in the world, hbat I am so
proud of your talefeta; and I M? ambitious
for you to
because it will enlarge the sphere of your use- i
fulness. I
"AH thia will come with time. Don't get
discouraged as you sometimes do; plod on i
cheerfully, and don't neglect the littlo duties i
now, that you may hasten on to do great :
things hereafter. And this reminds mo of ]
poor Widow Blair. I wish you would stop <
in and tell how we'd Willie is doing hero on 1
the farm, and while you are in Elm-street, <
call at Mrs. O'Riely'a and see if Nora needs I
anything?I shall like to hear from all my <
t? ?:n * ^? *
|j>vivgv?. Jh win oo umy mreo weeics be- I
fore I am at home again; so keep up good i
courage, and I will soon relieve you of your i
unprofessional visits at these places. i
"You are a dear, kind John to do it ; but I
I always knew that under that rough cxteii- l
or, (for you are rough, my dear nutmeg,)
there was something gentle and good. You i
only needed a sort of grater, to get Rt it, like s
the humble individual who now bids you ?.
faerwcll, and informs you that she is your '
ever affectionate. 1
,lFLOnA.M 1
Robert Tracy sighed'as he finished the pe- i
rusal of this letter. What would he not
give for the love of such a being t something
more than a mere butterfly?a cheerful, active
woman ; one that would lead him on to
something nobler and higher, instead of
dragging him down to an existence that
could hardly be called life. !
lie could see Flora. Young, she certainly
was sprightly, pretty, he was sure; per- I
haps not regularly so, but with an elastic
step a graceful figure, clear complexion ami- *
ling mouth and quick, vivacious eyes?fresh, I
guileless, frank and affectionate. Oh ! what 1
would he not give to meet her ! to know her, '
to gain her heart 1 i
Pshaw ! somebody else had won her nl- <
ready, and if it had not been so, how could i
Ac hope to bo beloved by a such a girl.? i
Neither his wealth nor elegance of manners <
would be sufficient to gain the heart of a
Flora. She would despise his indolent aim- t
less life, as much as, just now he himself did. i
But why should lie not be worthy of ber,
or some one like hert lie, too, had talents
and might do good. The letter had inspired
him, he would exert himself and some
day, perhaps, ho might meet Flora, and tell
her what her letter had done for him. Carlisle
was not so large that he could not find
her out; at any rate, as John had not got the
letter, he would go to Elm street and attend
to her commissions.
There might have been something besides
pure benovolence in this resolution; he
might have hoped to get a cluc to the unknown
; but it is'nt best to pry too closely
into motives when the ocfls good.
At any rate, Robert Tracy was soon in
Elin street, among a lot of tumble-down, rickety
old buildings swarming with dirty pig?,
and equally numerous and dirty children.?
lie inquired for Mrs. O'Ricly's residence, and
waw shown a house a little farther on ; ho entered
it, making his way through the dark
passage with dilHculty, but, guided by the
loud mid angry tones of a female voice, he
reached at lii-?ta small room, and rapped at
the door, which was a little njar. His summons
wa* obeyed by a stout, red faced virago,
who answered in the affirmative to his
ii:q dry, if she was Mrs. O'Reily.
\Vlint to next was the question ; he
mustered up courage, and declared that lm
whs jw/nt by Miss Mora to see her sick daughter
Nora.
"Oeh, thin, it's a doctor that yeez is," replied
tho woinrin, to whom Miss Flora's
name seemed familiar, ''but it's me firstqpuv
in that ye'ro after findin', Bridget Brady, and
not tueself at all, at all. Jist go up them*
stairs, and when yu git to the tip, it's the
door foretiost vocz."
Robert gladly e-caped from Mrs. O'Reilly,
who exhaled a jKiifiiiue of rum and onions
not at all agieeable to his delicate nostrils,
and, at the risk of breaking bis neck, ascending
the broken staircase.
A gentle voice within bade him enter, in
answer to his rap, and he obeyed tbe request.
The rooirt"w&s small, but scrupulously clean,
and in the young girl who lay on n small
pallet he recognized Norn. lie approached
her, and stated, as before that he had been
sent by Miss Flora.
"And is it Miss Flora Mason that yc
name!"
"Yes," replied Trney, delighted to find out
who ho did mean, and then ho went on to
question the girl aa delicately as possible as
to her wants.
She was not at all reserved ; told of the
kindness of Miss Flora in supplying her
wants, and said, that now her mother had
got work again, though it was rather lonely
tor lior while she was out washing, they
would get along very well.
It was evident that the girl was in a eon
sumption, but she was very cheerful, and wipid
away the tears that would ooroo when
she spoke of "being a burden to her old I
mother.**
Robert did not know very well wh*t to
sAy. It was new business for biro to be at
the sick-beds of the poor, but be said a few
kind words, and pot a bill into the girl's 1
band as he bade her good-bye.
During his conversation with her, she bad
named some other families, end told him
that Mm. Gallagher was fh great distress; j
that bfr drunken husband tod stoiewyihe 1
money she put away for the rent, and it !
must he paid that day or they would bo
turned out into the street.
Robert now bent his steps in this quarter,
snd left the poor woman showering blessings
upon his head, even After ho had lost
jight of her door. It was a now but very
pleasurable sensation that tho young Tracy
sxpcrienced on Elm street. He had never ,
before received so much enjoyment from the],
expenditure of any sum of money, as from
this small amount, lie returned to his of-j
flee, which might more appropriately have1
been called his smoking room, and began to ,
rumniago over his law hooks. He reallv ,
read a few passages in Blaekstonc, though I ,
sin afraid he did not give It his undivided at- j
u.i ? ? - - -
kciiiiou. iiut iong niter uns came olt aj(
Bfrand soiree at Mrs. Raleigh's, where Robert i
rracy became introduced to Mitt Flora Ma- ]
ion, and'to Miss Lizzie's inexpressible annoy- ,
snce, to this girl, just emancipated fioin ,
school, he paid most marked attention. She i
was not pretty, but, aside from this, all he
had imagined her to be?a cheerful, sprightly,
and unaffected girl, whom he had admired
very much ; and after that evening ho
paid frequent visits to her father's residence,
and as he came to know her better, it required
constant reflections on John, to prevent
his actually falling in love with her.
Tho mystery was solved at last; by casual
inquiries ho discovered that her cousin John
Sonicrs, a young lawyer, had recently gone
West. He was the rival, then, and front all
lie could learn, every way worthy of her.?
Every body liked him and wished him well,
except Robert Tracy, and he, it must be con- ,
fessed, so far from joining the rest of mankind
in those good wishes, really at times
wished hitn worse things than the fever and
ague, though that would have been bad
enough ftyfc any ordinary degree of malignity.
Yet, notwithstanding Tracy's inhumanity
towards John Somers, his benevolence
continued in active exercise in Elui-street.?
Ho found out and relieved many cases of
iuffering, and assisted many in obtaining
situations, who were idle, not from indolenco, I
but from inability* tr> cr*f
J (JV.
So passed away more than a year.
It was just before Christmas, and Robert,
who was going to treat himself to making
the mast useful presents he could procure to
his proteges, was just emerging from one of
those dwellings, where he had been to dis
cover what was most needed, when the sudden
apparition of Flora Mason, just opposite,
rooted him to the spot.
She, on ficr part, seemed equally astonished,
but almost immediately regained her
self-possession, and exclaimed, "Can it be
possible that you, Mr. Tracy, are the young
Sonlleman of whom I have hoard so much
ere ?"
Robert w$s silen' ; she blushed, as if
caught in some disreputable act, but his
very looks confirmed Flora in her suspicions.
"But I have a grave charge to make
against you," she continued, laughing.?
' You declared that Miss Flora sent you, so I j
have been credibly informed by ihe good
people who have detailed the circumstances
against you. When did I send you, sir??
I have no recollection of the fact."
"But you did, Miss Flora," replied RobI
ert, in his turn recovering himself; and draw'
ing out his letter which we have already
read, and which he carried suspiciously near
his heart, ho handed it to the writer.
It was now hor turu to blush, and cheeks,
neck, and brow were crimson, as Robert
went on to tell her what nil effect ?t Tind up
on him. 1 Icdid more*-? he declared his love
for her, concluding, "forgive this avowal,
vt:... ui r i i ? ? i
uuin, i Miuw now nopeiesa is my love
for you ; yet vain as it is, I do not regret it.
It ha? roused the Iietter part of my nature,
and whatever in the future I may be, I owe
to your influence. God bless you for that!
May you bo happy! Farewell!"
Llis voice was chokod, and tears stood in
his eyes; he pressed her hand warmly and
turned away.
But Flora recalled hiin.
"Mr. Tracy," said she, "let mo explain.?
This letter is not what you Mipposout to be.
It is nothing more nor less than a school
composition, which I lost in the street. Our
teacher, who had a great many queer nolions,
bid u% all write a love-letter one woek,
and this was mine."
"And John," interrupted Robert.
"Exists only in imagination," replied
Flora.
What Robert Tracy, said next, and what
Flora replied, it is quite unnecessary to ropeat.
Suffice it to say, that her first genuine
love-letter began, "My dear Robort," and
that even w|^n they were old enough to
have outlived the age of romance, a sedate
old married couple, they still cherished the
yellow, time-worn pages of Flora's first lovelotter.?
The Lodie'e Visitor.
A little boy frioiul of ours, a few
day ago, while coming down stair*,
was cautianod by his mother not to
lose his balance. His question which
followed was a puzzler : "Mother if I
should lose my balance, where would
b 9
" 1 '** ? ' T^>
An JaisEtMAx writing to a friend
friend from the West, remarked:
"Pork is BO plenty here that every third
man yon meet is a *r.. 1
4HK
f 4#
m r ?
J^iDctllnnrnna HtnMng.'i|
t? ill.. /'H ? " "
X- rum i.iip ^ icxnsj mate uazette.
? Jcxiqifs Sijoi.
William Bowie h brother of the celebrated
tad renowned James Bowie, in nn early day
distinguished himself in an Indian fight
known as the battle of. the Rocky Fort, hv
making one of the best shots on record. A
party o."25 daring adventurer* had wandered
about 100 miles above the white settlements.
James and William Bowie wero among the
number?in fact James bad command of the
forces. After exploring the country for several
days, and killing a large number of
Buffalo, they tno night concluded to start
home on the next morning. Accordinglyaficr
having breakfasted on buffalo and honey,
tbey set out for the settlements. As yet
they bad discovered no signs of Indians.?
About 10 o'clock they crossed afresh Indian
trail. "Ilallo boys 1" said Bowie, "do you
see tliis ? Now keep a good look out, for a
hundred red Camanclies are in the neighborhood,
I should not bo surprised if they are
camped at that branch, pointing in the direction
of some elms to the right. Now be
ready and keep a good look out," as \vc may
lie surprised." In a moment nil hands were
busy examining their guns?thus tliey travelled
oa almost in breathless silence. Spies
were finally sent out, and after some delay
the position uf the Indians were found to be
very noar, and that the red skins had discovered
them. Bowio then turned to the company
and said,"boys, we are dicovered ; there
is but one remedy; that is. to keep cool, and
we can easily whip the red devils. But we
must take advantge of them, as they out
number us at least five to oue. If you will j
all follow my directions, v e will give them j
a drubbing that they will not forget soon ''
They bid him lead, telling him that they
were ready to fellow. Tom, yon and George
fall back again, but be sure not to let yourselves
be discovered. Do not get more than
5 miles behind, and be certain to come to us
by three o'clock. About two o'clock while
the company were watering their horses at
a small rocky stream, the spies came up, and
reported that the Indians had got streiglit
on their trail, and were Dursuinrr. Thon
4 O' -v"
we must fight them this evening said Bowie,
or if wo camp to-night without having some
kind of breastwork for fortification, they will
kill every one of us Now fill your gourds
with water. There, on this hill we will fight
the rascals. Every one go to piling in
thoso recks and build a fort for ourselves and
horse*. These order* wore promptly obey
?d, and the camprmy soon found themselves
encircled in a fort about five feet in height.
They had not finished it however, until the
Indians came in sight.
With demon-like yells they charged the
little fort Br <s. When within about sixty
yards of the fort, a shriek of tire shot up from
the pile of rocks, and twenty Indian-, bit the j
dust. This qaused them to halt, or rather to 1
retreat, and it gave the Texan* time to re- \
I 1 ?
man. Again they charged, again the stream
of fire burst upon them, and again a goodly
number of them fell. Afraid to charge
again, on certain death, they concluded to
try and frighten the whites, and make them
surrender. They were now about 300 yards
from the fort. One of the savages (whunppuarc<J
to bo a man of authority) climbed up
a tree about 10 feet, and stood erect in a
fork, nnd held in his left hand threo reeking
scalps, shook them at tho Texans qpd ordered
them to surrender. "I'll kill that d J
rascal," said William Bowie, "or I'll shoot
till sundown at him." As he said this, he
took up a gun, loaded with an once ball,
climbed over the rocks, laid a stone about a
foot thick under the muzzle of his gun, laid
liat down hitnsclf, and taking deliberate aim,
fired. An unearthly scream from tho savage
told tho tale, lie was killed! The Indians
raised tho body, placed it on a horse (for
it was their chief) and turned their faces
westward. About 50 of thoir number had
been killed or wounded. Seven of the Texans
had been struck with arrows, and three
of them killed. After they had left, the
ground was measured, and it was found that
Bowie had killed the Indian 280 yards!?
Reader, was not that a good shot indeed I
2 Good 0<ooflcicjjce.
That conscience alone is good which
is much busied in self examination,
which speaks much with itself and
much ruitli TliUtn ?1. ? - ? ?! ?'
.... ^..... AUW id uui,ii i nuaii^ii iinn
it is good and tho means to Triage it
better. That soul will doubtloss he
very wary in its walk, which fakes
daily account of itself, and renders up
that account to Ood. It will not live
by guess, hut naturally examine each
step bctorehad, because it is resolved
to examinee 11 after; wilLconsider well
what it should do, because it means to
asks over again what it hath done, and
not only to answer itself, but to make a
faithful report of all to God; to Jay all
before hirn continually, upon trial
made, to toll him what is in any moaeure
well done, an has own work, and.
bless bim for that; and tell him too
all tho shp? and miscarriages of the
" J
day^as our awn; complaining of ourselves
in hiS^pressence, and still entreating
free pardon and morfe wisdom
to walk more holfly and exactly, and
gaining, even by our failings, more
humility and more watchfulness. If
you would have your consciences answer
well, they must inquire and question
beforehand. Whether is this I
purpose and go about, agreeable to mv
Lord's will V Will it olease him ? Ask
that more, and regard that more, than
this which the most follow. Will it
please or proiit myself? Fits that my
own humor ? And examine not only
the, bulk and substance of thy ways
and actions, but the manner of theui,
how thy heart is set. So, think it not
enotlfrh to cm ton.hnrph nrfn nror K.?fr
take Yioed how ye hear ; for, consider
how pure he is and how piercing his ' 3
eye, whom thou servest.
^JJoirkinglffer). '3#'
If there is one class of men who can ^
justly claim superiority over another
it is the men who may be seen at our IV
moru with their implements of trade
and dinner kettle, going to the labors
ot the day; When night comes, tKcv
can produce evidence ot having addbd
to the value of the real estate of th3 city,
by converting a piece of iron into som thing
usual?a piece of leather into a
shoe, or made some progress in erecting
a house or some other building.
The working man should cultivate a
spirit of personal independence ; todalx>r
not merely that ho may eat, bnt
that he may l>ea freeman, calling no
man lord or m istor. They who would
be really free rans tmakci ti e nselves
free. Ibey must begin life as war
in winch the victory is to be to the
bravest. To triumph, they must
perserve nmler difficulties, keep up
their courage under occasional reverses,
aud be determined to know
no such word as "fail." The thousands
who do fail, fail generally because tfiey
sink back when obstacles oppose their
progress?because disaster disheartens
them an 1 they permit themselves to
be trampled over by the more aspiring
und courageous.
The New York Sun says we know
the trials to hie; those who start-, in
poverty are exposed. We know how
trying it is to sustain the conflict and
to keep up the spirits through times
of adversity ; but we know also that the
most successful men are those who have
st irted penniless, without much educati
>n, without willing friends, and whose
early strnggles3, were severe and
the issue often doubtful. They were
called "self made men," because they
fought their own good fight, without
special aid from friends or legislators.
It is a trite remarks about such men
that Fortune favored them, but,
their success illustrates the old adair.i
that "Fortune favors the brave." We
as a people, have bgen favored by Fortune,
and we liavo been favored b v
eauso we rarc a bravo people?a
people that go through with whoever
wo undertake. When" We begin
to halt in our undertakings, to hesitate
and retreat when wo ougnt to advance
boldly, Fortune will cease tofatfor us ;
our prosperity will h ilt, and our national
strength docay as tha!^ of oth r
nations is now do caving.
Time's Changes.
I went to Edinburgh, (1821) wfra;?
I had not been for ten years: I found
a noble passage into the town, and new
since my time; two bcantifbl chapels,
two of the handsomest library rooms
in Great Britain, and a wonderful increase
of shoes and stockings, streota
and houses. When I lived there, very
few maids had'shoos and stockings, but
plodded about the house with met as
big as a family JKble, and legs as largo .
as portmanteans. I stayed with Jeffrey.
My time was spent with tho
Whig leaders of the Scotch bar, a set
of very honest, clever, men, each possessing
thirty-two different 6orts of
wine. My old friends were glad to sco
mo; some had turned Methodist*, some
had lost their teeth, some had growu
very rich, some very- fat, sotno were
dvincr Oil ft nlna I t ??^ "
?J WIM t iwnn i nroiij w.cro
dead ; bm tho world is a coarse enough
place, so I walked away, comforted
aquae, praised otho: a, kissed tome old
looIo8, and passed a'very riotous woof-.
?Sydney Smith.
Profrwor ArfoiKTKD.?Dr. Sartori
has been appointed Profe?w>r of Modem
T angunges in Lynchburg Cq^
lego.