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- - - - \ - - - i i- i -mJ
ill lXil35:
VOL.3. GREENVILLE, S. C,: THURSDAY MORNING, SEPIMm 4, M '.JT.V. NO. 17 '
Cjit ^ntrfjjern dMcrprist,
A RBFLKX OF POPULAR EVENTS
s>. tfisaora*
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
$1 t><\ payable la advanoe ; $ * if delayed.
HLUBS of FrVE and upwards ?1, the money I
ia erer7 instance to accompany tho order.
ADVEr^^KNTO inserted conspienously at
the rates of 78 seats p?r "a0'"'? *? !in???
ft* cents for each subsequent insertion. Contract*
for yearly advertising made reasonable,
Aoairrs.
E. W. Cau, N. W. oor. of Walnut and Third-st,
Philadelphia, is onr authorised Agent.'
W. W. Walk sat, Jr., Columbia, A C.
Parts Btkadlkt. Ban.. Flat Rack. K f!
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William O. Bailkt, Pleasant Grove, GreenvilleCm.
R. Q. Akdbrsow, Cedar Falls, Greenville.
J
$rltrtrt |fattnj.
(From the N. Y. Journal of Commerce.]
o t| lr n the JLibing.
br i. u. luther.
Mourn the lining, not the dead,
' Sigh not for the early fled,
Would ye have those beings back
Who have oroased life's stormy trsek!
Would you have them on Time's shore,
'Mid its rocks and ocean roar f
Mourn the living?drop a tear
O'er the pallid ohild of fear,
O'er the broken hearted crowd,
That a thousand storms have bowed ;
Living grief hath ears to hear,
It will bless thee with a tear.
Mourn the living: why should grief
Wet the yellow autumn leaf!
Never, 'neath the richest dews,
Gould it gain its early hues ;
But thy tears and care might give
Strength to timid flowers that livo.
Mourn the living, but the dead?
l'lant gay flower* above their bed ;
Sing, for songs are for the blest;
Smile for peaceful is their rest;
For their songs once cheered our dreams,
And their smiles gave hope its beams.
Mourn the living, not the dead,
Sigh not for the eat ly fled,
Radier weep for tliuse whom death
Leaves to breathe life's poisoned breath,
Weep for sad hearts round thee here,
Heaven claims not a sigh or tear.
Pendleton, S. C.
a Iwltrttb Utortj.
JI)e iftjsbaod's Setlref.
Oat day, a good many rears ago, a
young woman knocked nt the door of a lit
tie cottage in the suburbs of the town of
Newcastle upon-Tyne. The knock was immediately
responded to by the opening of
the door from within. An aged woman,
neatly dressed, and who had evidently risen
-j^from her wheel, was the sole inruate of the
^^^ittle cot. 'Bless your heart, girl,' said the
dame as she entered with her visitor, and
sat down to the wheel again, 'there must
surely do something particular about you to
day, for you did not used to knock.'
'I wan afraid some one might bo with you,
mother,' said tho girl, who had taken a seat
opposite the spinner.
'And though a neighbor had boon hero,'
replied the dame, this surely wouldn't have! ]
frightened you away. But the truth is, you
have got something to say, Catharine,' con^
tinned the speaker, kindly : 'out with it, my
dear, and depend upon the best counsel old
Hannah can give. The young woman
blushed and did not speak. 'Has William
flnUon asked you to beoome his wife, Catherine:*
said the dame, who eaaily and rightly
anticipated the matter that was in the
thoughts of her yonthful visitor.
'He has, mother,' was tho reply.
The woman began to burr earnestly at her
wheel. 'Wall, my dear,' said she, after a
short cause, 'is it not that what *nn !? ?
long expected?*y, and wished 1 he Iim your
henrt; mid so, I suppose, it needs no witch
to tell whet will be the end on V
This might ail be very true, but there was
something upon Catharine's mind which
* struggled to be out and it osms 'Dear
Hannaheaidahe, seeling herself eloeely by
the dame, end taking bold of ber hand, *yon
* hare been a kind friend?a parent?to me
since my own poor mother died, end I have
no one else to iooltffo for advice but yourI
sal/. ] hare not given William aa answer,
I ead wonid not ill Had spoken to yon?eeI
pedeUy ae eomething?ee yon once said?'
I 4What did I eay Catharine V interrupted
I
the old woman : 'nothing against tho man
you love, surely. He is, from all that I have
seen and heard, kind-hearted, industrious,
and eterv way well behaved.'
'Yes, Hannah,' replied the woman ; 'but
you once said, after I had brought him once
or twice to sfee you, that you did not like
those?those sort of low fits thRt sometimes
fall upon him even in your company. I
have often noticed them since, Hannah,' continued
Catharine ?ith a sigh.
'l'lague on my thoughtless tongue for
saying such things to vex you, my dear
child ! He was a soldier, you know,a good
many years ago?before he was twenty?
and fought for his country. He may have
seep sights then that made him grave to
think upott, without blaming himself. But
whatever it ruay be, 1 mean not, Catharine,
? -i?i-i '-i ?- - -
turn u ruuuiu IHK? SUCH II pwillg WOTll
*t 1ip.mi l If he lifts some little cures, you
will easily soothe them and initke him liapP)'-'
As the worthy dame spoke, her visitor's
brow gradually cleared, and after somo further
conversation, Catharine left the cottage,
lightened at heart with the thought that
her old friend approved of her following the
courw io which her inclination led her.
Catharine Smith was indeed well entitled
to pay respect to the counsels of Hannah.?
The latter had been married, and had spent
the greater part of her life in the service of
a wealthy family at Morpeth. When she
was there, the widow mother of Catharine
had died at Newcastle; and on learning of
the circumstances, Ilannah, though a friend
rneioly, and no relation, had sent for the orphan
girl, then about ten years of age, and
had taken care of her till she grew fit to
maintain herself by service. On finding
herself unable to continue a working life
longer, Hannah had retired to Newcastle,
her native place, where she lived in humble
comfort on the earnings of her long career
of servitude. Catherine came back with her
to Newcastle, and immediately entered into
service there. Hannah and Catharine had
been two years in theae respective situations,
when the dialogue which has been recorded
took place.
On the succeeding expiration of her torm
of service, Catherine was married to the
young man whose naine lias been stated as
being William Uutton. He was a joiner by
trade, and bore, as Hannah had said, an excellent
character. The first visit paid by
the new married pair was to the cottage of
the old woman, who gaied on thorn w?tli a
1 ?.?
? ? j uni pnuv, unnKiiig 8iie nau never
seen so handsome a couple. The few
years spent by Hutton in the army had givcu
hie naturally good figure an eroct manliness,
which looked as well in one of his sex,
as the light, graceful figure, and fair, ingenuous
countenance of Catherine, wns calculated
to adorn one of woman-kind. Something
of this kind, nt least, was in the
thoughts of Hannah, when Catherine and
her husband visited the dame's dwelling.
Many a future visit was paid by the same
parties to Hannah, and on each successive
occasion, the old woman looked narrowly,
though aa unobtrusively aa possible into the
state of the wife's feelings, with a motherly
anxiety to know if she was happy. For,
though Hannah, seeing Catherine s affections
deeply engaged, had made light of her own
early remarks upon the strange and most
unpleaeing gloom occasionally, if not frequently
observable in the look and manner
of William llntton, the old woman was never
able to rid her own mind altogether of
misgivings upon the subject. For many
months after Catherine's marriage, however,
Hannah could discover nothing hut open
unalloyed happiness in the air anil conversation
of the youthful wife. But at length
Ilannah'a anxious eye did perceive sometluug
like a change, Catherine seemed aomctimes
to full, when visiting the cottage, into fits of
abstraction not nnlilce those which had been
observed in her husband. The aged dame
felt greatly distressed at the thought of her
dear Catherine's being unhappy, but* for a
long time held her peace upon the subject,
trusting tiiat the cloud might be a temporary
one, and would disappear.
T* was not so, unfortunately. Though in
their manner to each other when together,
nothing bat the most cordial atleclion was
observable, Catherine, when she came aione
to aee Hannah, always seemed a prey to
some uneasiness, which all of her efforts
oould not conceal from her old friend. Even
when she beearoe for the first time a mother,
and with all the beautiful pride of a
young mother's love, presented her bebe to
Hannah, the latter could see eigne of grief
imprinted on Catherine's brow. Hoping by
her counsels to bring relief, Hannah at last
took an opportuuity to tell the young wife
what she had obeerved, and besought her
confidence.
At first, Catherine stammered forth a hurried
assurance that she was perfectly happy,
and in a few seoonds belied her word by
bursting into tears, and owning that aha was
very unhappy. 6Um I cannot, Hannah,' she
exclaimed, *1 cannot tell the cause?not even
to von i'
'Don't aay aof my poor Catherine,' replied
Hannah ; it ia not curioaily that bida me to
interfete.'
'Oh no, Hannah I1 replied the young wife;
'I know you apeak from love to me.'
'Well, then, continued the 4*<ne, open
your heart to me. Age is a good adviser. ?
Catherine \vw? silent. 'Is your husband t
harsh ?' m-ked Hannah. >
No, no,' cried the wife ; man could not be I
kinder to woman than he is to me.' c
'Perhaps he indulges in drink in private ?' t
'Hannah, you mistake altogether,' was r
Catherine's reply; my husband is as free from t
all sueli faults as ever man was." >
'My dear child,' said the old woman, al- c
most smiling as the idea entered her head, t
'you are not suspicious?not jealous?' i
*1 hav? never had a moment's causo, Ilan- *
nali,' answered Catherine. 'No, my griefs *
are not of that nature. lie is ono of the a
best and dearest of husbands.' \
Old Hannah was puzzled at these replies, I
as much as she was distressed by the open t
avowal of Catharine's havimr some cause of
porrow ; but seeing that* lier young friend a
could not make up her mind to a disclosure 1
at the time, the aged dame gave up her in- a
quirics. and told Catharine to think serious- a
ly of the propiiety of confiding all to her. d
Hannah conceived that on mature con r
sideration, Catheiine would come to the res- ?'
olution of seeking counsel at the cottage.? a
And she was not wrong. In a tow days af- h
ter their late conversation the young wife v
came to visit Hannah again, and after a lit- h
tie embarrassed talk, entered on the subject n
which was uppermost in the minds of both, h
'Hannah,' said Catherine, *1 fear you can s
serve me nothiug ? I fear no living being *
can serve me, O Hannah ! good as iny hns <
band appears to be?good as he is?there is c
some dreadful weight pressing upon his
miu J, which destroys his pence?an J mine I
too. Ala*! the gloomy fits which you as *
well as I noticed in him arc not, I fear with- <
out cause.' Catherine wept in silence for a '
minute, and then continued: 'All that I r
know of this cause arise from his expressions t
?while he is sleeping l?y my side. Hannah
! he speaks in broken language of mur- I'
der?of having committed in order 1 Iian- '
nab ! perhaps a woman deceived and killed
by him.' As Catherine said this she shuddered.
and buried her face in that of the 1
babo which she canied in her arms.
Hannah was shocked to hear of this, but *
her good sciimj led her at once to suggest, '
for the comfort of the poor wife, that it was
perfectly possible for her husband to consid- 1
er himself a murderer in bis sleep, and speak '
tfc tVfl Ka?1# tl?a aliasl.ia-4 ? " ~~ *' *
-. .. ?IIMUU* HIS nilgllll-ni, rcHlll}' III Hie '
whole a flair. J
4Ah, Hannah,' said Catherine, sadly, 1
'these saying* are not the result of ono <
nightmare slumber. They occur often?too 1
often. Beaidea, when I first heard him mut- J
ter in his sleep these horrible things, I men- '
tioned the mntter to hitn in the morning at
our breakfast, and laughed at ?t; but he ^
grew much agitated ; and telling me to pay '
no attention to attch things, 'as he sometimes '
talked nonaenao, he knew, in his sleep,' he 1
rose and went away, leaving his meal nn- 1
finished, indeed, scarcely touched. I am '
sure lie does not know how often lie speaks 1
in hU sleep, for I have never mentioned the '
subject again?though my rest is destroyed |
by it. And then his fits of sadness at ordinary
moments t Hannah! Hannah! Han- *
nah ! there in some mystery?some terrible '
mystery under ill Yet,' continued tbo 1
young wife, 'he is so good?so kind?so du- \
tiful to Ood and man! He has too much 1
tenderness and feeling to harm a fiy 1 linn- <
nah, what am I to think or do, for I am
wretched at the present.'
It was long ere the old dame replied to
this question. She intn.ed greatly on what
had la-en told her, and in the end said to
Catherine: 'Mv poor child. I cannot, liolinvn
that William is guilty of what these circumstances
lay seemingly nt his door, lint if
the worst bo true, it is letter for you to know
it than to be in this killing suspense forever.
Go and gain his confidence, Catherine ; tell
him all that lias come to your ear, and any
you do so by advice. Hannah continued to
use persuasions of the same kind for sometime
longer, and at length sent Catherine
home, firmly resolved to follow the counsel
given to her.
On the following day Catherine once
more presented herself nt the abode of Hannah,
and as soon as she had entered, exclaimed
: 'Hear mothar, I have told him all'
he will be bere soon to explain everything !
to na both 1
The old woman did not exactly contpre
bend this. 'Has he not,' said she, 'given an
an explanation then to you }'
'No, Hannah,' said Catherine; 'butoh,he
is not guilty 1 When I had spoken to him
as you desired me, he was silent for a long
time, and he then took me in his arms, Hannah,
and kissed *mi, saying; 'My darling
Catherine, I ought to have confided in you
long before. I have l?een unfortunate, not
ffUiiW. Goto kind IIanM*h*a ???.i I
soon follow you, and set your mind at case (
' ?so far us it can bo dono. Had I known 1
how much you have boon suffering, I would
have done this long before.' Theao were *
his words, Hannah. Oh, may he be unfornato
but not guilty 1' f
Hannah and Catharine said but little to 1
each other until the hit*band of the latter 1
came to the oottage. William sat down *
gravely by the side of his wife, and after 1
j kindly inquiring for the old woman, at once 1
I oommenoed to tell his story. 'The reason f
of the unhappy exclamations in sleep,' aeid }
ho, *w)tjfh neve weighed so much upon my >
nind, dear Catherine, may l>e very soon
old! They arose from a circumstance
which has much embittered my own peace,
nit which, I hope, is to be regarded as a sad
'alnmity rather than a crime. When I entered
the army, which I did at the age of
linetcen, the recruiting party to which I atached
myself was sent to Scotland, where
vo remained but for a few months, being
trdered again to England in order to be
rnnsjrorted to the continent: One unhappy
Doming, as we were passing out of town
chore we had rested on our march south
ward, my companions and I chanced to see
i girl, apparently about fifteen years of age,
washing clothes in a tub. Being tho most
ight hearted among the light hearted, I
ook up a large stone with the intention of
plashing the water against the girl. She
looped hastily, and shocking to tell, when
, threw the stone it struck her on the head,
ind she fell to the ground, with I fear, her
kull fractured. Stupefied at what I had
lone, I stood gazing on the stream of blood
usliing from my poor victim's head, when
r?v companions observing that no one had
een us, for it was early in tho morninc.
luriicd me of}*. We were uot pursue], and
re were in a few we? ks on the continent;
nit the image of that bleeding girl followed
ne everywhere ; and since I came home, I
inve never dared to inquire the result, lest
us pic ion should be excited, and 1 should
uti'er for murder 1 For I fear, from the
Ireadfiil nature of the blow, that the death
f that poor creature lies at my door.'
While Hutton was relating this story, he
ind turned hie eyes to the witulow, but
vhal whs hia astonishment, as he was con luding.
to hear old llaunah cry aloud:
Thank God I' while his wife broke out into
i hysterical passion of tears and smiles, and
hrew horself into his arms.
*My dear husband,* cried she as soon as
ler voice found utterance, that town was
dorpelh }'
It was,' said he.
Dear William,' the wife then cried, 4I am
hat girl.'
You, Catheiine,' cried the amnzed and
mraptured husband, as he pressed her to
lis breast.
Yes,' said old Hannah, from whose eyes
ears of joy were fast dropping; Mlie girl
whom yon unfortunately struck was she
who is now the wife of your bosom; but
four fears had magnified the blow. Catlie ine
was found by myself soon after the ac;idont,
and though she lost a little blood,
sud was stunned for a time, she soon got
ound again?praised be lleavcn for bringng
about tbi? bleeaed explanation.'
'Amen,' cried Catherine and her husband.
?eace and happiness, as much as usually
alls to the happiness of mortals, were the
ot of Catherine and her husband from this
ime forward, tlieir great source of inquiet..i.
k.:?_ .1 . .i? mm _
auu uviiijj niu!? i;iKeii away. i lie wire even
oved lite husband more, from the discovery
hat the circumstance* which had caused
ler distress wero but a proof of his cxtreir.c
enderness of heart and conscience; and
William was attached the more strongly to
Catherine, after fiiiuiug her to be the pui&on
>vhom he had unwittingly injured. A new
ie, as it were, had been formed between
hem. Strange ns this history may appear,
t is true.
JUisttllnntotis Jltabiiig.
Op fleqding.
Why should ho many persons bo so very
ireful with regard to the food with which
heir bodies are nourished, and pay so little
mention to that for the mind ? The seeds
if disease can be as easily sown in the mind
is in the body, and the disease is far more
litticultof cure. Every paper and book that
s read, exerts a useful or deleterious in
hience, not only daring life but after it.
the words and actions that are influenced
jy books and papers go lorth to exiri an
ntlucnce, for gciod or evil upon others, while
,he food taken into the body is limited in its
tfttfllAn/t/l on/1 ll?af Kit# ft-v- ? sl"?? 'I'"?4' ?
MHWMW) ?uu timv UHfc tVI t% Pll'JIi UUItlUUII.
It is, therefore, of immense importance that
ivery person should be exceedingly careful
n the selection of his reading, fur in the
nass of general reading how little there is
>f truth, how much of error and untruth.
In view of the great amount of unreliable
ending in vogue, the question "what is
ruth," mar not only be often asked with
jropriety, but also "where is truth."
A continual indulgence of the appotito in
anheallhy and substantial food will soon eneeble
the body, and make it enervated and
rtfeminate; and it is just the same with rearing,
which is food for the mind. What then
ran be expected of those persons whose menal
food almoat entirely consists of the most
rashy literature?its chaff, straw, and stub*
>ie f Effeminacy and weakness of intellect.
IVe regret that such a charge can tm preferred
against the vast majority of our own
>eople, and those of every other enlightened
ind civilised nation. The reoords of literature
prove that for one reader of real solid
tod useful papers and books, there are a
mndred who feast on the wildest and most
rothy works of fiction. Such reading must
h> injurious to the mind, because it furnishes
t with no peniuoe aliment
The most useful woiks in the libraries of
(lie Mechanics' Institutes in England have
a very limited number of readers, while
those of a light and amusing character have
n host. We hope it is not ro with the members
of our Mechanics' Institutes; and in
some instances brought tootir knowledge we
are happy to say, it is not. Still, it is the
veiy few among the great mass of our mechanics,
artisans, and farmers, especially our
young men, who read useful works; the
great majority are intense readers of love sick
stories and bombastic fictions.
A man may cram his mind with rending
and yet he may be very ignorant and illinformed.
What is knowledge but truth ?
The mnn, therefore, who desires to be wellinformed
(and who does not ?) should make
truth the object and aim of his reading.
Every young mnn, especially, should endeavor
to cultivate habits of judicious reading.
He must pursue truth with assiduity if ho
vv/mlfl cfnrn Itiu ntitul wiflt l-ri/nulo.lnm Ka
..... " ? .F?.wg. , ?v
must endeavor to derive solid pleasure from
the study of true and useful works if ho
would rise to eminence in literature, in pol
ilics, in law, in engineering, in chemistry, in
any of the sciences or pursuits of life, to be
distinguished in which, implies a cultivated
mind.
The character of a man is as much indicated
by the books and papers which he
reada as by the company with which he associates.
We have but to know what books
and papers a young mechanic, engineer or
artisan reads, to form a very sound opinion
of his qualifications and his abilities. If he
takes no paper or periodical containing useful
information relating to science, art, and
improvements, he cannot be intelligent, he
cannot be expected to attain to distinction
in bis profession, for he denies his mind
thnt food which is necessary for its proper
growth and sustenance.? Scuntific American.
I .he Jlrqffic in Circassian
3D o in c n.
, There has lately been an unu*u ally large
number of Circassians going about the streets
, of Constantinople. Many of them, no
I doubt belonged to the deputation which
, came to petition the Torte that their coun:
fy "light be taken under the suzerainty
ni' lit a Qnltnn A Arnlvl a nr\cliAn
\?i uiu kjuuiui. ii vviioiugi nifiu |/vi nv/iij
. however, of tho Circassians now in the capital
have quite another mission than a polit'
ical ono to fulfil. They are here as slave
dealers, charged with the disposal of the
numerous parcels of Carcaesian girls that
have been for some time pouring into this
market. Perceiving that when the Russians
shall have r<-occupied the coast of Caucasus
this traffic in whits slaves will be over,
the Ciicassain dealers have redoubled their
efforts ever since the commencement of the
peace conference* to introduce into Turkey
the greatest possible number of women
, while the opportunity of doing so lasted.
They have been so successful, notwithstand,
ing the prohibition of the trade by the Porte,
and the presence of so many of her Majesty's
ships in the Black Sea, that never, perhaps,
at any former period, tvna white human flesh
so cheap as it is at this moment.
There is an absoluto glut in the market,
and dealers are obliged to throw away their
goods, owing to the extent of tho supply,
which in many instances has been brought
by steain tinder the British flag. In former
times, a "good middling" Circassian girl
was thought very cheap at ?100. but at the
present moment tho snmo description of
goods may be had for ?5 ! in fact, the creatures
are eating their heads oft', and must be
disposed of at any sacrifice, however alarming.
Independently of all political, humane,
and Christian objections to the abominable
state of things, there are several practical
ones which have even forced themselves on
the attention of the Turks. With low prices
a low class of purchasers come into the
market. Formerly, a Uircassmn girl was
pretty sure of being bought into a good family,
where not only good treatment, but often
rank and fortune, awaited her; but at
the present low raten she may be taken by
any huxtcr, who never thought of keeping a
slave before.
Another evil is, that the temptation to
possess a Circassian giilat such low prices
is so great in the minds of the Turks, that
many who cannot afford to keep several
slaves have been sending their blacks to
market, in order to make room for a newly
purchased whito girl. The consequence is
that numbers of black women, after being
as many as eight or ten years in the same
hands, have lately been consigned to the
broker for disposal. Not a few of those
wretched creatures arc in a state quite unfit
for being sold. I have it on the Authority
of a respectable slave broker, that at the
present moment there have been thrown on
inaiket unusually la:ge numl?ersof negrosses
in the family way, some of them slaves of
pachas and men of rank. He finds them so
unsaleable that he has been obliged to docline
receiving sny more. A single obterva
lion will explain lha reason of this, which
might appear strange when compared with
the value that is attached even to an uuborn
black baby in some slave countries. ln'Ci n
stantin ople it is evident that there is a very
Jar^e number of negressea living r.nd having
habitual intercourse wisli their Turkish (batters?yet
it it a rare tiling to see a mulattoi
What becomes of the progeny of such inter1
course f t ho hesitation in saying that
it is got rid of by iufanticide, and that there
is hardly a family in Stamboul where infanticide
is not practiced in such cases as a there
matter of course* nnd without the least remorse
or dread.? Cof. London Afornind
Post.
Ibe itez*.
No invention of mdn has bech rriorei us<J
fill and of greater behefit to the human family
than the printing pre**. By this machine
mind in made io operate upon mind, atfd
render all the elements, aye. immense tract
and apace as far as the eye can discern by
by the aid of the telescope, tributary in
man's comfort, happrirtess and knowledge.
Aided by the press, every new idea useful
to mankind soon crosses the sen dud ocean.
and fiunlly every part of the habitable globe.
It has prostrated errof wheiever It has had
free scope. It is the friend of genuine liberty,
of justice, of human happiness, and human
glory. Happy for mankind would H
be if the press Was lo remain entirely ifflshackled.
It should never descend to licentiousness,
to the servility ef panderers for the
men in power, nor become the tool of aspiring
demagogues, either in Church or Btnt*/
The public press stands Pearly in the samd
relative situation with the public minds, m
the tutor his pupil, nnd, in a great measure,
equally responsible for tho principles it shall
inculcate. 1'arty prejudices, or the prostitti-'
tion of talent for mercenary purpose*, is
therefore as base as the conduct of a tutor
would bo whose vetlalty shonld induce him
to sacrifice his trust nt tho shrine of Mammon.
Those who conduct the pTess sliotlld fcicvate
their ideas into" pit re regions of thought
and fly away there. To them, in # ery'
special manner, are committed the future
destinies of mankind. They are the light
of tho world, shining not for themselves, out
for the whole human family. By the aid of
this light nil can see their respective paths
through life. As these lights increase in
number aud brightness, men will see clearer.
further and better all around them, all over
the world, until time shall* end. Until them,
may the press be free, pure and U6cfuh
Ain't done Nothing,?'What's the matter
John!'
"I ain't dona nothing, father."
''Well, what are you crying for, you lab*
ber ?"
'I was afraid you would whip roe.'
"What 1 whip you when you litlvn't done
nothing.'
'Yea, sir.'
"Go into the house you, booby,'
John felt quite relieved, and wehtinto' the
house, and his father went to the farm.Very
soon his father came back in a rag?#
and laying a cowhide over the urchin's back
said*
'Did I not tell you when I went away, to
hoe the corn ?'
"Yes, sir?but you told me just now you
wouldn't whip me if I hadn't done nothing.
Fortunately John's wit didn't save him
the whipping.
Theological Divpbkences.?Dr. Stuart
was rather fond of controversy. A favorite
topic with him was the true nature of
saving faith, on which subject he regarded
Dr. Chalmers as in error. They met in the
streets of Edinburg, and entered into a warm
controvresy; street after street, and square
after square were passed, and at length the
disputants parted ; Dr. Chalmers taking Dr.
Stuarl by the hand and saying: "If you
wish to 8eo my views stated clearly and distinctly,
read a tract calied Hinderancte to
Believers of the Gospel." "Why," said Dr.
Stuart, "that is the very tract 1 published
myself." Dr. Chalmers used often to <1<*.
cribe this scene as a proof that many may
think they differ when they really agree.
Tiirhb is an old gray cat in Newark, N.
Jersey, who has recently had an addition to
her family of six kittens all of which are
I joined together, near the hind-legs. In lifting
one up you raise the whole, like a bunch
of bananas. This interesting group seems
to live very harmonious together, with the
exception that " neither one can tell which
is its own tail !** These latter appendages
are so twisted and intertwined that even the
grave and staid mother cat herself cannot
unravel the mystery, and hence the kittens
! quarrel occasionally.
??
Horns for Marrying in England.?The
limitation of the time of the dny for
marrying in England is fixed by statute. The
period between eight ill tho morning and
noon is assigned as the legal time for all
mariiagea. The custom here and the lasr in
England are widely different in this particU*
I
mr.
PltOKITAni.K SlNOINO.? It U noW
tlimi Jcnir, Liud has netted eighty thousand
pounds during her farewell London and pro*
vincinl season. ami that the public, in consequence
of the system of buying up ticket
by the music elleca, must have paid at lea?
? 200,000 for the purpose of hearing bei,