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mm w '** ? ' -SP - B A REFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS. 1.. 1 , - ^ i ' I * I _J I L. Deooiefc to progress, the flights of tfje Soutl), onto tl)e Diffusion of Useful Unomleftgc among all Classes of Working RJeu. VOLUME IV. GREENVILLE. SOUTH CAROLINA. THURSDAY MORNING, AUGUST 13. 1857.. NUMBER . <?ljt ioutljent Cntcrpriar IS ISSUBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING, BY PRICE & McJUNKIN. WILTJAM P. PRICE, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. C. M. M'JUNKIN, PRINTER. TERMS. Ox* Dollar and Fimr Cents in advance; Two Doll a as if delayed. CLUBS of FIVE and upwards, Oxk Dollar, the money in every instance to accompany the order. ADVERTISEMENTS inserted conspicuously at the rates of 75 cents per square of 18 lines for the first insertion, and 87| cents for each subseqnent insertion. Contracts for yearly advertising mode reason able. ^ ^ AGENTS. W. W. Wai.krr. Jr., Columbia, S. C. Pkckr SrnADLET, Esq., Flat Rock, N. C. a k r> /\ rt:.t i\. 01. i rmrvicw r, v., urcciiYiuo i/im? Wri.ua* C. Uailkt, I'lensnnt Grove, Greenville. Capt. It Q AnnKiwoN, Enoree, Spartanburg. The Light at Home. The light at home ! how bright it beams When evening shades around us fall; And from the lattice far it gleams, To love, and rest, and comfort all. When wearied with the toils of day, And strife for glory, gold or fame, How sweet to seek the quiet way, Where loving lips will lisp our name, Around the light at home ! When through the dark and stormy night, The wayward wanderer homeward hies, How cheering is that twinkling light, Which through the foiest gloom he spies I It is the light at home 1 He feels That loving hearts will greet him there. And safely through his bosom steals The joy and love that banish care, Around the light at homo! The light at home! whene'er at last It greets the seaman through the storm, He feels no more the chilling blast, That bents upon bis manly form. Long years upon the sea have tied. Since Mary gave lier parting kiss; But the sad tears which she then shed, Will now he paid with rapturous bliss Around the light at home I The light at home! how still and sweet It peeps from yonder cottago door? The weary laborer to greet? When the rough toils of day are o'er! Sad is the 60ul that does not know The blessings that the beams impart, The cheeiful hopes and joys that flow, And lighten up the heaviest heart Around the light at home I JflisrrllnufBUS trailing. A Fearful Dream. Some ninety years ago, there flourished in Glasgo, a club of young men, which, from the extreme profligacy of their orgies, was commonly called the Hell Club. Besides their nightly or weekly meetings, they held one grand annual saturnalia, in which each tried to excel the other in drunkenness and blasphemy ; and on these occasions there was no star among them whose lurid light was more conspicuous than that of Mr. Archibald 11 , who, endowed with brilliant talents and a handsome person, held oat great promise in his boyhood, and raised hopes which had been completely frustrated by his subsequent reckless dissipations. One morning after returning from this "' ""I festival Mr Archibald B. havin<r retired to hed, dreamed the following dream : lie fancieJ that he himself was mounted on a favorite black horse, that he always rode, and that he was proceeding on towards his own bouse?then a country scat, embowered by trees, and situated upon a hill, now entirely built over, and forming part of the city?when a stranger, whom the darkness of the night prevented his discerning, sud denly seized his horse's rein, saying, " you must go with me 1" " And who are you P exclaimed the young man, with a volley of oaths, whilst he struggled to free himself. "That you will see by and by," returned tbe other, in a tone that excited unacoounta b!e terror in tbe youth, who, plunging his spurs into hie horse, attempted to fly, but in vain. However feat tbe animal dew, the stranger was still beside him ; till at Isngih, in bis desperate efforts to escape, the rider was thrown, but, instead of being dashed to the ground, as be expected, he found hiin? self falling, falling still, as if sinking into the bowel* of the earth. At length a period being put to thie mysterious descent, lie found breath to inauire of his companion, who was still beside him, whither they were going. w Where am Ifl Where are you taking metM he exclaimed. u To bell I* replied tbe stranger; and lmmedii ta'y interminable echoes repeated the fearful nod, M To hell f to bell! to bell T* At length n light appeared whijh soon increased to h blaze; but, instead of the cries, and groans and lamenting.-; the terri fled traveler expected, nothing met his ear but sounds of music, mii lb and jollity ; lie found himself at the entrance of a superb building, far exceeding an v he had seen constructed by human hands. Within, too, what a *cer<31 No amusement, employment or pv.suit of man on earth, but what was here lieing carried on with a vehemence that excited liis utter amazement. There the young and lovely still swarm through the mazes of the giddy dance I There the panting steed still bore his brutal rider through the excitement of the goaded race 1 mere, over the midnight bowl, the inttinpeiate still drawled out the wanton song of blasphemy I The gambler plied forever his endless game, and the slaves of Mammon toiled through eternity their bitter task; while all the magnificence of earth palled before that which now met his view. He soon perceived that he was among old acquaintances, whom he knew to be dead, and each, he observed, was pursuing the object, whatever it was, that had formerly engrossed him, when finding himself relieved of the presence of his unwelcome conductor, he ventured to address his former friend, Mrs. I)., whom he saw sitting, as had been her want on earth, absorbed at loo?requesting her to rest from the game, and introduce him to the pleasures of the place, which appeared to him to be very unlike what he had expected, and indeed an extremely agreeable one. Hut with what a cry of agony she answered that there was no rest in hell; that they must ever toil on nl those very pleasures; and innumerable voices echoed through the interminable vaults, 44 there is no rest in hell !" while throwing open their vests, each disclosed in his bosom an everburning flame ! These, they said, were the j pleasures of hell; their choice on earth was now their inevitable doom ! In the midst of the horror, this scene inspired, his conductor returned, and at his earnest entreaty, restored him to earth ; hut as he quitted him he said, 44 Remember ! in a year mid a day we meet again 1" A*, tliis crisis of his dream, the sleeper awoke, feverish and ill ; and whether from the effect of the dream or of his preceding orgies, he was so unwell as to be obliged to keep bis bed for several days,-during which period he had lime for many serious reflections, which terminated in n resolution to abandon the club and his licentious companions altogether. He was no sooner well, however, than they flocked around him, bent on recovering so valuable a member of llioir sneiptv nml having wrung from him a confession of the cause of his defection, which, as may be supIiosed, appeared to them eminently ridieuous.they soon contrived to make him ashamed of his good resolutions. lie joined them again; resumed his former course of life, and when the saturnalia came round, lie found himself with his glass in his hand at the ta ble; when the President, rising to inakc the accustomed speech, liegnn with saying: "Gentlemen, this being leap year, it is a year and a day since our last anniversary, Ac.. Ac." The words struck on the young man's ear like n knell ; but ashamed to expose his weakness to the jeers of his companions, he sat'out the feast, plying himself with even tnoro liberality than usual, in order todiown his intrusive tin lights ; till, in the gloom of a winter's morning, he mounted his horse to go home. Some lion s afterward the horse was found, with his saddle and bridle on, quietly grazing by the road-side, about half way between the city and Mr. lJ.'a house, while a few yards off, lay the corpse of his master. Now, as I have said in introducing this story, it is no fiction ; the circumstances happened as here related. An account of it was published at the time, but the copies* were bought by the family. Two or three, however, were preserved, and the narrative, has been re-printed. [d/rs. Crow's Night-side of Nature. hkautifol, and, wk can readily brlikvk. True.? Who doubts tlint bird# love ? Here i# an evidence from the National Intelligencer : 44 A gentleman observed, in a thicket of bushes near hi# dwelling, a collection of brown thrushes, who, for several days, attracted his attention by their loud cries and strange movements. At last, his curiosity was so much excited, that he determined to see if he could ascertain the cause of the excitement among them. On examining the bushes, he found a female thrush whose wing was caught in such a way that she could not escape. Near by her was her nest, containing several half-grown bird#. On retiring a little distance, a company of thrushes appeared, \vith worms and other insects in their mouths, which they gave, first to the mother, then to her voung, she, in the meanwhile, cheering them in their la bor of love with a song of gratitude. After watching the interesting scene until curiosity was satisfied, the gentleman relieved the poor hird, when the flow to her nest, with a grateful song to her deliver ; and her charitable neighbors dispersed to ibeir usual abodes, singing, as they went, a song of praise.** Look Up. A ship, becalmed at sen, lav rocking lazily. A splighllv lad, the captain's only con, not knowing wat to do, began mischievously to climb the mast. Lie had got half way to the top, when turning his eyes below to nee how far he was from the deck, he suddenly grew dizzy. M I am falling. 1 am falling, he cried. " Look aloft,* shouted his father, who at that moment was leaving his cabin. The boy, accustomed instantly to obey that voice, looked up to where the main-truck swung against the sky, recovered heart, went on, was saved. We do not give the anecdote as new.? Doubtless every one of our readers has heard it before. But the story has a significance not always noticed. Others, besides the captain's son, have been saved by looking up. In the dizzy ascent of life many a man has been on the point of falling, when some sudden thought lias bidden him u look up;" he has taken courage, has persevered, has won the piize. Bruce, when he saw the spider fail six times yet succeeded at the seventh, was of this class. So was Washington, when Cornwallis had driven hitn across the Delaware, and when, instead of giving up in despair, bo suddenly collected all his resources, fell on the British lines and achieved the victory at Trentor.. There come times in the experience, even of the bravest, when the heart is ready to give up. Affliction after affliction, for example. has assailed him till horre itself <les # ? # r * pairs, Perhaps a favorite child lias been suddenly stricken down. Perhaps a terrible epidemic has destroyed more than one little one. Perhaps the wife of bis bosom is no more. Perhaps, i>y one of those awful catastrophes which occasionally occur, his entire family has been swept into eternity in a moment of time, in the twinkling of an eye. He feels as if there was no longer any object for him in life. In the first shock of his agony he would not care even if news was brought to him tha his-foituncs were bankrupt, that he w.w a disgraced beggar. Hut, by and by, a still, small voice within whispers 44 look up." Lie sees that the sky is still as bright as ever, the breeze as blessed, the tiees as beautiful. lie heats the waters run,'leaping and laughing, down the hill side, glistening in silver as they go.? The earth is not less lovely thnn before, the stnrs are as uumberless, the ocean and mountains as sublime, llis Icllow-creatures have the same kindly hearts towards him. lie owes them the same old duties. Gradually he realizes that he has much yet to live for. In lime even ho regains a subdued and quiet happiness. lie has learned to 44 look up." A great financial crisis overtakes the strong man in the midst of his schemes.? lie gathers up all his resources, contending gallantly and desperately long after hope is over; struggling for his family rather than for himself; fighting, agonizing, like Laocoum in the serjrent's folds. It will do.? The mighty whirlwind, whose outer eddies he has been striving to resist, wheels down upon him in all its power ; he is torn up in *.1 L ? an liisinoi; ne is mirieu on lire ^rounu ; ne is left breathless, bruised and seemingly dead. At first, when he regains sensation after the overwhelming shock, ho is without hope.? lie hits neither strength, nor wish to resume his work, lie is willing that the tempest shall sweep the wrecks of his fortune out of sight forever. It is useless, he says to him*sIf, even to try to regain what he has lost. At last, a gentle wife or sympathizing friend bids him not to despair. " Look tip,'' they say. lie looks. At once he is a new man. lie recovers his name and foitune. In every circumstance of life, " look up." Are you about to enter a profession I Aim at no secondary success; fix your mark, high?14 look up." Ard you a merchant? Itecome leader in your business, and to do this, first44 look up." Are you ambitious of political distinction ? Scorn to be a mere demagogue ; resolve to be a statesman; 44 lock up." Is authorship your wish ?? Endeavor to take rank among the classics of your language by studying manner as well as matter; aspire to triumph greatly and permanently, rather than prematurely ; in a word, 44 look up." Ah ! if all would only look up. Hat some never hear the cheering words 8ome disregard lliern. Of the thousands who have foiled utterly in life, or met only a secondary success, the majority owe their misfortunes to not looking up.? In sc row or disaster, remtmbrr the boy upon the *izzy mast, and " look up, look op." [Zfo/fintort Sun. Tiik true history of the world is not found in the huge volumes of the histoiian?these deal chiefly with the great crimes or virtues of the gie"t ones of the earth?but in the unwritten history of the iodivi hurts composing the multitude?the humble, out-of-theway, the fathers, mothers and children, unnamed, unheard of, and unknown, who constitute what the poverty of language is obliged to call the masses, for want of a better word. The Aggregate story of these unknown, unnamed, and undistinguished millions, could it be collected, would constitute the true history of the world. How independent of money peace of conscience is, and how much happiness can be condensed in the humblest home I Fortune Payors the Brave. A military officer, with whom we lmvo long been intimate, relates two incidents connected with Croghnn's gallant defence at Fort htevenron; one of which affords a strong positive, and the other a stronger negative, proof of the above quoted adage : As the Itritish and Indians, in their ope- . rations had violated their pledge and usage of civilized warfare, by wantonly murdering their prisoners, the members of Croghan's little han't, (only one hundred strong with t? single six pounder, and surrounded by about six hundred British troops and thrice that number of Indiana,) had mutually agreed to stand their ground to the last, and sell their lives as dearly as possible. When all was ready, the British commander sent a messenger, under a flap of truce, to treat for a surrender of the fort. Croghan, pointing to him as he appicached, exclaimed, 44 It will not do to let him enter here and see our weakness; who will volunteer to meet him t" As it was pretty certain that whoever should leave the fort on such a mission would he murdered by the dastard foe, tbere was a brief pause, when Ensign Shipp replied. 441 will, npon one condition.1' 44 What is it," asked the captain. 44 Pledge me your word, as an officer and a man of honor, that you w ill keep that gun bearing directly upon me, and that you will tire it off the moment you see me raise my hand." The pledge was given, and Shipp went forth. To all arguments and persuasions of the enemy, his unvarying repiv was. " I am instructed to say that we defend the fort." Soon the Indians began to surround him. Ono clutched his epaulette, another his sword. Shipp, who was a man of Herculean frame, released himself by a powerful effort, and, turning to the envoy, coolly said : "Sir, I have put myself under the protec tion of your truce without, knowing your mode of warfare. You Ree that gun," said lie, pointing to their solitary six pounder. 44 It is well charged with grape, and I have the solemn pledge of my commander that it shall he fired the moment that I give the j signal. Therefore, restrain these men, and respect the laws of war, or von shall instantly accompany me to the other world." This was enough. Shipp was no more molested; he returned to his comrades in safety, fought out the desperate action that ensued, and obtained promotion for his gal lant bravery. The counter-instance referred to at the head of our paragraph was told as follows : After the ltriiish and Indians had withdrawn, Croghan missed one man (only one) who had belonged to his little band, and all efforts for his discovery were for some time unsuccessful. At last his remains were discovered in the garret of one of the block houses, where he had crept for safely, and was cut in two by a cannon ball. All the rest, considering their chances of life not worth a thought, had only sought to do their duty, and escaped alivo from, perhaps, the most desperate light on record l'he only man that was killed happened to be the only man who proved himself to be a coward. New Jersey Sinking.?We do not wish to create alarm?because alarm in this in stance is unnecessary?when we say that there is o\ idence, seemingly amounting to demonstration, that the State of New Jersey has been sinking slowly but gradually, since some date in the past, not ascertained?that it is sinking at tho present time, and will continue to sink, until the whole State is again submerged?to re-app^ar, we may hope, after this baptismal immersion, as part of a new creation. The proof is pretty conclusive that New Jersey has been under the water, not once merely, but several times ; and when its marl beds, formed during one of these immersions, have been used up in fructifying its soil, another dip to refresh its exhaust- d energies may not l>e undesirable. The depression of the land is marked by the inroads which the sea has made within the memory of the living. Stumps of tiees I.:..!. 1 a... .i.~ 1 niuvu runm im^ii oiiu 111j niiuu ilie wwnjman's axe was applied to their trunks, are now within ocean's embrace, and scarcely perceptible at low water. Rocks, which were once inland, and beneath whose shade the venerable matron, in her girlish days, sat and milked her father's cows, now treacherously hide their heads beneath old ocean's aggressive waves. Other evidences the man of science finds ; and it seems thai what is true of New Jersey, i.t this respect, is true also of Staten Island and Long Island. They are believed to be sinking too, and the day may be anticipated?though none of us shall live to see it?when no bathers shall resort to Coney Island, for no Coney Island will there be to receive them ; and when Seguin's Point and its bated Quaiantine structures shall have sunk out of sight of all save the Omniscient. But ere that day cornea, many generations of men may have sunk?sunk into a long repose, awaiting the awakening sound of the last trumpet.?New York Sun. Bask all your actions upon a principle of right; preserve your integrity of character, iu doing this, never reckon the cost. The Language of Dress. Under this head (says Life Illustrated) we are impressed to say a few words to the s ladies, the marriageable girl* especially.? i! We do this M privately and confidentially," c and request all young gentlemen to have t the politeness not to read this article. It is ? for the girls exclusively. c Well, then, girls you expect to get mar f ried, do vou not ? If you do not, you \ should. Vou also wish to marrv, don't you ? t If you do not, you are either more or less thau woman. Presuming that you are all (i right in this matter, we call your attention l to the following extracts, the words of a f popular author : c "A wife looks prettier, if sho did but 1 know it, in her neat morning frock of calico, V than in the incongruous pile of finery which r she dignifies with the title of full dress.? i Many an uumnriied female wins the heart i of her future husband in some simple, tin- I pretending attire, which, if consulted about, i she would pronounce too cheap except for ordinary wear, hut which, by its accidental * suitability to her figure, face, and carriage, 1 idealize her youth wonderfully. If the sex ? would study the taste in dress more, and 1 care less for costliness, they would have uo * reason to regret it." Now we assure one and all?the unmar- c ried of the fair sex ?that we have known many females who really wished to marry to live in single blessedness, and die hushandless, for no other reason, in all human probability, than that of dressing too gaudily ? We have heard the sentiments of the male sex expressed a thousand times on this point, and in every instance, whether the observer a was young or old?young man, balchelor, or widower?rich or poor?ugly or baud- c some?wise men, fop or dandy?in every instance au overdressed or expensively " rigged out'* female has lost in his estimation. This is perfectly natural and proper. A foolish and silly man is not worth marrying ; and a sensible man will surely judge you advantageously in exact rjuio to the plainness aud simplicity of your dress. A poor man, or man in moderate circumstances, however worthy and deserving, dare not marrv a female who is superfluously done up in ribbons and flounces, however lovely and talented she may be, because he has sense enough to suspect she will be an expensive treasure. lie may lovu her, and still feel that he cannot afford to marry her. And the rich mirn, though he likes her poisonallv, and admires her other accomplishments, dare not take her for better or worse, because the dashing style of her habiliments indicate too great a passion for the admiration of the world. lie fears, justly too, t .at her passion for general admiration will be a serious ob-taclc in the way of the manifestation of affection for him individually. And as all men arc selfish, whether women are or not, both rich and poor, in selecting a wife, act on the principle, that ? Beauty, when unadorned, is adorned the most, Athvism.?Really,, there can be no atheist. The sintient soul cannot deny that which is the spring and sun of its own life. The lucre a man is enlightened, the more he must comprehend and inwardly confess a God, though lie ma)' seem not to adore? w hile the lowest idolater of Fetish, and the rudest savage is not without his deity.? n<wl tliA iitiit'ircnl iiimovkilt' nnt t .f f I. human soul alone, l>ut of ?11 visible ami in* r visible things. He who seta himself up as ( disdaining to acknowledge a God, can but s excite in every intelligent mind a mingled s credulity, pity and contempt. In the piide of vain philosophy, fools and sometimes apparently sensible men, will pre tend to disbelieve in God, but they only deceive themselves or try to deceive others. In the darkness of the night, and on the confines of the grave, they confess their er for?they shudder at the bank they would, if possible, have created. The soul, looking out over the abyss or mortal dissolution, can play the hypocrite no longer. Men who hold the idea of God and light in the merry days of life, call upon and cling to him most desperately in the hour of agony. The necessity of such an infinite shield against w! '.oh to repose our feebleness, destroys the possibility of actual atheism.? What a fool lie must be who would reject God to prove there is nothing greater than man. In a few days and all this boaster's greatness will be dust and oblivion?while the God whom he derided?though clinging to him with desperation at the last? will survive as glorious and beneficent as thongh the would be atheist had never cx isted. It in ilie height of folly for a half-dozen , brothers, four uncles, end a grey-headed fa j ther trying to atop a young girl from gel' j ting married to tho man she loves, and who loves her?just as if rope-ladders were out of date and all the horses in the world spav'ne^* , ? i Youko ladies who are accustomed to read newspapers are always observed to possess most winning ways, moat amiable di*posi lions, invariably make good Wives, and alu ays select good husbands. A fact. Nov Is the time to improve yourself. Putnam as a Spy. Among tlie officers of the Revolutionary iriny, none probably possessed more origilality than General Putnam, who was ecentric and fearless, hlunt in his manners, he daring soldier, without the polish of the [cntleman. He might be called the Marion f the North, though he disliked disguise, trobably from the fact of his lisping, which ras very apt to overthrow any trickery be night have in view. At this time a stronghold called Horseicck. some miles from New York, was in he hands of the British. Putnam, with a ew stmdy patriots, was lurking in the viinity, bent on driving them from the place, fired of luiking in ambush the men began o be impatient, and importuned the Geneal with questions as to when they were gong to have a bout with the foe. One mornng he made a speech something to the folowing effect, w hich convinced theui there vas something in the wind : 41 Fellows, you have been idle too long, md so have I. I'm going to Bush's, at Jorsencek, in an hour, with an ox team ind a hag of corn. If I come back I will et vou know the particulars; if I should lot, let them have it, by liokey." lie shortly afterwards mounted his ox art, dressed as one of the commonest order >f Yankee farmers, and was soon at Bush's avern, which w as in possession of the Britsh troops. No sooner did the officers espy urn, than they began to question hiin as to lis whereabouts, and find ng him a compete simpleton, as they thought, they began o quiz him and threatened to seize the corn nd fodder. 44 How much do you ask for your whole oncern t" asked they. " For mere)-'# sake, gentlemen," replied he mock clodhopper, with the most deplorible look of entreaty, " only let me off, and jrou shall have my hull team and load for lothing; and if that won't dew, I'll give pou my word I'll return to-morrow and pay fou heartily for your kindness and condecension." " Well," said they, " we'll take you at your vord. Leave the team and provender with is, and we won't require bail for your ap>carance.'' Putnam gave up the team, and sauntered ibout for an hour or so, gaining all the in01 malion he wished, lie then returned to lis men and told them of the foe, and his >lan of attack. The morning came, and with it sallied >ut the gallant baud. The British were uindled with rough hands; and when they lurrendered to General Putnam, the clodiopper, he saicastically remarked : " Gentlemen, I have kept my word. I old you I would call and pay you for your windness a id condescension." A Nkw Theory.?A writer in the Naional Intel igencer is advocating the theory that the moon is simply the indicator of tho earth's electric changes, and that the moon itself has no appreciable effect upon this planet?that the moon is a fragment of tho earth, is negative to it, and revolves upon its own axis, within the earth's atmosphere; that the earth is enveloped in an ocean of electric vapor, den.-e and compound upon ita >olid surface, w hose gases separate, however, u tliAV ilppnon nnlu'iiivl tli*? ?I.?? ? j ^ ...v., v? rtin nj a >manaling from and resting on the more lense, until we reach in outward order flnoine, electricity and magnetism, that subtle :leraent pervading all space ; and that, oberving the atmospheric strata above and the iolid strata below us, it is not difficult to perceive that tnen, animals and vegetable bun* are existing in the centre of the earth's gratification. The electric hues of no variition are those extending from the north to he south pole; the diamagnetic or dia lectric lines are those extending around the >arth frotn west to cast, and are variable. It is the variableness of these dia-electrio currents, says this writer, that produce all he phenomena attributed to the infiuenco >f the moon upon the eartb. Influenceof Myron's Works.?Perciral, the poet, was an eccentric man, with ill the sensitiveness of genius, and morbidly ilive to every remark. He had a positive lislike to the gentle sex. ami yet bis poetry is full of the most tender pathos and sentinentality. Unhappy in every sense of the worJ, he would allow 110 friendly approachis. and even in sickness, shut himself nnt From sympathy, and would disdainfully reject til aid. Peter Parley (Mr. Goodrich) solves the mystery of his recluse manners in the following paragraph : * I think he has been deeply injurednay, ruined, l>y the reading of Jtrron'i works, at that precise age when his soul was in all the sensitive bloom of Spring; and its killing frost of atheism, of misanthropy, of pride and scorn fell upon it, and concerted it into a scene of desolation. The want of general apprrciation, of love and friendship, around his early life, caused its malignant influence to deepen his natural shyness into a positive and habitual self banishment from his fellow men. Such is the sad interpret;* tion I put upon his career." Men may bend to viilue, but virtue cannot bend to man.