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?* ^ '^...uxjJLL 1 - Jj Vi' " ? ** ? ? '^j | A R E F L1 X O F P OP PL A R EVENTS. s?'? | Orootck to progrm, % ftigtyto of tl)? S?owtl), onto ^Diffusion of Useful ftnotolelrge among oil Classes of Working | I VOLUME IV. GREENVILLE. SOUTH CAROLINA. THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 34. 1857. ~ NUMBER 33J I CJft #oaljiern <?nttt|tri3t 13 1MXMD EVERY THURSDAY MOXHXNO, BY PBIC3B & MoJUNKIN. WILIjIAM P. PRICE, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. C. M. M'JUNKIN, % PRINTER. v '-t TEHffllS, , Om D??lu m<1 Fim Cum in advance; Tiro Dollam ft flayed. CLUBS fflVE *nd toward a, ONK Polla*, the moneyMh ,Sv#y Instarice to accompany the crier. AJDVERTI^EilENTSlnHorted conepicuotisly at tha rates Of 7b'^?nta per aqnare of 18 liner for "the first insortibh, Akd 97-fc cenU for each aubsequent insertion. Contracts for yeiuTv hivertising made reason able. _ Aoraria. W. W. Walk*, Jr., Columbia, S. C. PrtBR Stradukt, Eoq.-, 1*1*1 Rook, N. C. A. M. Pans*, K?irvi?w P. Ou, Greenville Diet William . Batlkt, Pleasant Grove, Greenville. Gait. R. Q. Andkmom, Enoree, Spartanburg. 51 CjiristaJft ?fortj. [From Godev's Lady's Book.] HOW EFFIE HAMILTON SPENT CflfiiSTMAS. bt virginia ml jimutcst. Come, reader, foiled ?m; and we will -steal a peep at the ben? ao? heroine of my story. We are in a wide street, in a large 1 city, facing a very epttdotw add handsome 'house. Come in. We paee through a ' wide hall, up a broad staircase, into a large parlor, furnished with magnificence. Never mind ; we don't atop here. Past on into a boudoir ou the same floor aa the parlor ; and now we stop, for bare are the objects of our search. It is a cold evening in December ; and a large fire burns in the open grata; the shaded lamps throw a subdued li'dil unon the beautiful furniture, sdowincr carpet, Urge mirror, and exquisite paintings which are in this pretty place. By the fireplace, hi* arm retting upon the mantlepiece. is the master of the house, and the owner of one of the largest fortunes ip this gdodly city of . He it a young , tnan, in hit twenty fifth year, a bachelor, and much courted by the maidens on account of his gentle birth, handsome face, .gentlemanly manners, and large fortune.? lie is tall, and finely proportioned, has a /rank, manly face, large dark eyes, dark . fcrown curling hair, regular features, a beautiful smile, and an erect, graceful carriage ; altogether, Clarence Hamilton is a very nice young man," generous, intellects!, ;high principled, and gentle as a woman to i/hk sister, his nearest, dearest relative, for he vis an orphan. Seated in a deep, crimsonhoovered arm chair, and looking up into Clarence's faor, is that same sister. She is . dreaded ia full evening eoslume ; a pale blue ;atlk, out low, shows a snowy neck and arm ; rthe lace flounces are gathered up in one liti tie hand, revealing a dainty little foot, with .a nicely fitting satin slipper; the broad sash .encircles a most charming little waist; the oearl ornaments might he envious of the whiteness of the complexion they rival; and the gold brace'eta on her round arms are aearcely brighter than the long curls falling ifi such rich profusion on her shosldere.? Her features arc regular, her eyes large and dark like her broibe."'? i sod she has also his %*autiful smile; but her iiny, perfect figure looks quite fairy-like when ceDtraVod with &i* six feet of stature. " Claire,*' she said, looking op at him with a sweet, winning amile, I executed all vour commissions this morning." M Yea. Have you bought my presents to all my cousins !" I M AH. And I have bought, all the jewel- i ry and finery I intend to present to my dear i friends aud relations, next week. What is i the use of this present-giving at Christmas t" i ** It promotes good feeling." j u Doe? it make anybody love us! Oh, ' Claire, T have felt so lonely this evoniug I" Everybody was clustering round roe, male- 1 ior pretty speeches, and flattering me; and ' I knew all the time it was only ray inonev they courted. Money! money I Do you j suppoee Aunt Miriam wotpld be so very urgent, and press roe so earnestly to spend the 1 Bay with her and her cousins on Wedr.es- ' 1 day, If I were poor t Why doesn't she in i rite her husband's cousins, the Morrises I? < Tbev are prettier than 1 am. Anna is per*. fectly euperb, in spite of her plain Jreas; i nfd Robert it very flue-looking. Now, tbey good dinner; but sbe doesn't ask ?hei$. No; she wants me ; and I won't . Won't gof* / " ** No; I mean to eat wy dinner here; and ! i J invite yoq to be toy gueet." * A?d J accept the invitation. We will out all our fine relations, and eat dinner ,,/iptone. Oh. there is one person I should { like lo invite, Gerpld Bastings 1 t Have you , any objections, petite #omr. . ; ) 44 None.** The girl's brow, nock, and face were crim* son for a moment; then the blush faded again. M As you say about the Morriases, my clerk wants a good dinner, lie's a fine fellow. Pity hes so poor! But he'll make his way in the world. There's enetgy in bis voice, resolution in his eye, firmness in his gait, manliness in every action. Qe'a a fine fvllow. Little sister "?and Clarence bent on her a searching glance?"don't you think so ?" " Yes." The answer came low and sweet. " I intend putting a hundred dollar bill in 1 an envelope, and sending it anonymously to him at Christmas. Do you approve, Effie f " Yes. Oh, Claire, tiow much good you do with your money at Christinas 1 and I have been wasting so much in buying presents for people who do not really need anything I give them. It is such bitter weath or anrl aA mnnw twvrvlA waa/1 v> | HIIV* wv mnimj IIWU VVIIIIUI US , OUU buying jewelry for folks tbmt would not speak to tne, if I were poor, seems so fool iah." 44 Don't you subscribe to Dorcas societies, and coal and blanket committees, and all that sort of thing!" "Yes ; but 1 want to do something myself. It is very easy to put one's name down for a sum of money on a paper, and Eay it when it is called for; but I never now of any good it does. The committee take care of thai part of it. I want to do something myself. I want to give something to make Christmas merry to all the po<g folks in the city." " You can't very well do that." "No! Ob, Claire I Claire I I have an idea !" And the fairy sprang up from her chair, and began dancing rouud her brother. 44 What is it, fairy I he asked, smiling at her excitement. "Sba'n'l tell; only I want a whole lot of ray money, Claire." 44 My money 1 IIow independent we are all at once, ilow much of your money do you want I" 44Ob, five or six hundred dollars! I don't know exactly how much." 44 Five hundred dollars ? Suppose I won't let you have it t" 44 But you will!" said Effle, coaxingly ; " you will; won't you !" The little clock on the mnntla rliimad One / two ! three / " Time you wero in bed, petite ?<rur," said Clarence. 44 Come, kiss me good-night; and wo will talk over this expensive scheme of yours to-morrow." Effie sprang into her bTotiier's arms, received bis good-night kiss, and then tripped into her own room. Clarence, in a few momenta, followed her example. In a small room, in a house situated in tbe^aurburbs of the city, there sat a young man at bis desk writing. The room is poorly furnished; and one candle throws light upon bis paper, lie is handsome, in the Italian style, dark complexion, large black eves, rich jetty hair; his figure is tine ; but there is a gloom over all that does not improve his beauty. The brow is clouded, the eyca heavy, the hair pushed off the forehead as if its weight was oppressive. Look over his shoulder, and read the letter as he writes. 44 You ask me," he says,44 to come to your western country, and aid you in your schemes for troininrr A mnnlK mrr,\ T aliniiM have refund your offer. I have a clerk's place in the establishment of one of our wealthiest men, a good aalary, and jjood prospects. Were it not for the debts I am striving to pay?debts incurred by my poor father whicn I will pay?I should be, on my Eresent salaiy, above want; and, if I stay ere, my income will increase, I know ; and I shall do well. You ask why I do notstay. I will tell you. I, poor and in debt, have bOfQ mad enough to fall in love; and not oyly that, but the object of my love is rich, very rid1, the only sister of my employer. Beautiful, pig ear!, generous, good, my idol is all man's heart couJd desire to fill it. By the kind hospitality of her brother, 1 am often thrown in her way i Rid each time itrengthens my love. Oh, Effie J Effie !? there, I won't bore you with rbapv>djes I? Suffice it that I love without a shadow of bope. Sho is always kind, gentle to me; but, of oourse, in her station, with her beauty and wealth, she can oommand any match, snd would despise me as a fortune-hunter were I to breathe my love. Am I not , poor! Oh, that we could change places! Then 1 could seek her love, and Drove how irue j? my own. I cannot stay here; the restraint upon my heart, feeling, and action, Is too great. I must leave the place where, constantly seeing, I may never speAk my love lo her. If I come near her again, toy heart may speak in spite of myself; and, for my presumption, I may loose my greatest treasure now, her friendship. In a few days I will write to you again, and tell you of my plans more definitely. Perhaps I shall come to you ; most likely I shall, lly year at rav present place eiptres at Christmas. Then I shall conclude finally upon some plan.? Wow, good-night. Truly yours, Gerald Hastings." Christmas was drawing near; and Effie Hamilton was very busy with many mystm Hons preparations. There were, h> Clarence's bouse, two Urge vacant third story ^.. rooms, unfurnished. For sever J days, Kffie bad shut herself up in these rooms, excepting when out; and the result of her mission was a great number of large packages, baskets, and bundles, which were all carried by direction to the tbird story chambers. At length, the day before Christmas arrived. Clarence came home to dinner about two o'clock; and Kffie won from him a promise to stay at home, and aid ber the rest of the day. " Now, Claire," she said, sealing herself on his knee after dinner, u I want to tell you what I have been doing all this week. In the first place, I took Caroline, the pretty seamstress, that worked here so long, into my Confidence 7 and wo made out a list of all the poor people she knew ; where they live, how many children there were, names and ages, and all the particulars; then?there's a ling at the bell. It's Caroline, I know. She promised to come, this afternoon, and help me." The door opened, and a very pretty brunette entered. Iler plain street dress only heightened her charms; and the rich color brought into her cheeks by exercise added to her beauty. Effie took off her things; Clarence set a chair for her; and then the three sat down fsr a social chat. " How do your preparations progress, Miss Hamilton t" inquired Caroline. " Famously, Carrie. Drop that Miss. I aui Eftie to my friends. But come, as soon as you are reeled from your walk, we will go up stairs, and I will show you all mv preparations." "1 am rested," said Caroline, leaving her chair. "Come, then. I will lead the way.? I Claire, take care of Carrie." And Effie i went swiftly up the stairs, unlocked and threw open the door of the mysterious room. Clarence looked into it with amazement* The entire centre of the door, through both rooms, was occupied by two long lines, one of large covered baskets, the other of small Christmas-trees. Each tree was hung with toys, bonbons, flowers, and fruit. Clarence looked at his sister, who, taking his hand, led him up to the head of the line, and uncovered the basket. " This is for Mrs. Thomas, a poor washerwoman with three children," she said. " The basket contains a 4...1 - * * wraey, you see, two pies, a peek of potatoes, some curreut-jelly in that jar, and, in this tightly covered kettle, some oysters. That is for the Christmas dinner. At the bottom of tho basket there is a box containing a five dollar gold-piece ; that "?and she covered the baAcet?" is the widow's own share.? This tree, you see, has a liorse, and drum, and other toys for the two little boys, a dollbaby and work-box for the little girl, and candies, cakes, and bonbons for all. All the baskets are alike, excepting that some contain wine and invalids' food, extra, for the place where there are sick. The trees vary according to the ages of the children. Ilave I done right, Claire !" "Yes, little sunbeam." " Now, Claire, as soon as it is dark, thore will be a furniture-car at the door, to carry all these things to their respective destinations. Carrie and I are going with it to lake a sly peep at 6ome of the children.? Will vou come ?" " Indeed I will! You two stay here while I order the carriage. We can get out at the corners of the streets." Just about dusk, there stopped, at the corner of a little court near Street, a large furniture-car and a carriage. Two men got down from the first, a gentleman and two plainly clad ladies from the second. 44 James," said Effie, * you are to take this basket." And she indicated one iu the car. " And, Claire, will you take the tree ? It is not heavy." 44 Mother," said a little boy, leaning his head against his mother's knee,41 to morrow is Christmas Day ; and we won't have any presents. Dou't you wish we were rich, and bad a big room?this one is so little? and bad some money to buy a Christmas dinner f" Rap ! rap I rap! at the door. A scream of delight followed its opening. 44 Ob, mother I mother! come and look 1 here's a real tree, a Christmas-tree, and a big basket! See her, Beu !" as another little boy came to the door. 44 Bring them in. Bee, it is really for us ! Here's mother's name on tbe cover of the basket! Ob, see what a big turkey, and pies, aud?-oh, here's oysters! Oh I oh 1 oh ! and here's lots of things on the tree, a dpll 1 that must be for Jenny. Ob, I wish she'd come in I Oh, mother, hero'* a gold piece in tbia little be* r " May Ood Mesa the kind heart tlmt thinks of the poor in this happy season !" said the widow, fervently ; and the door was closed, none of the happy party seeing three figures standing back in the dark entry, looking at the joy they bad given. " Here comes James again with Miss Mason** basket," said Effie. M That's On the next floor. Come, James !" Here again, reader, we will peep in before our generous party. On a low maltreat, laid Upon the floor, lies a young girl wstaling with consumption. Her sister sits baside her, pl?ing her needie; and on the floor beside the candlo is a little girl, also sewing. fee-. i M Mary," said the invalid, " do pot .by I work for a little tiuie. It is Cbistmas Eve; surely you may rest a few minutes." Rap ! rap! rap 1 Mary opened the door, and then gave a cry of delight. "Oh, Lizzie, come here, and help me carry in these tilings ! They are marked with our name. This little tree must be for you ; and here is a large basket." Lizzie assisted in bringing them in ; and. while she danced with true childish delight around the tree, the elder sisters opened the basket. 44 A turkey, pies, and oysters for you, dear Jessie, our Christmas dinner; and here's a bottle of wine, and oranges, and white grapes, and this little box?ten dollars ! Ob, Jessie ! who can have sent them 1" " God's blessing go with the giver !" said the invalid, softly. " Now you may rest on Christmas daw How lonir the h??ko?. will 0 n ? ? - " last us ! Mary, dear, you forgot to close the door.' And again three watchers were shut out. We have not room to follow in Effie's footsteps that happy evening. Here there was an ailing baby relieved by a generous gift of money to pay a doctor; here a whole party of children made joyful; in another place, a studious bov was made happy for months by judiciously selected books; and in one place a poor, childless widow bad an order for groceries enough to last a whole year, beside her Christmas dinner. At about ten o'clock, Etlie, Claire, and Carrie came home again as tired and happy a trio as were in that city on Christmas Eve, 1854. The next morning, Clarence canoe into his sinter's room. 44 Etfie," he said, "Gerald talks of leaving me." " Leaving you f" The pretty little sunbeam was very pale. "Yes! he's going out west." Eftie bent her head, and lowered her eyes. " Effio I little sister ! how pule you are 1 You tired yourself last night." "No, no ! I ineau yes. Why is he going west?" " 1 will tell you. Effie, can you fancy me doing a dishonorable act)" " No." " Well, I did one last night. I went, after I left you, to see Gerald. I found him writing a letter. I peeped over hie shoulder, and read it, and then crept away again, leaving the envelop I told you about a week ago; and he does not know I was near Hiiui ; but I know his secret." 44 Secret ?" " Yes. He's in love." " Gerald !" 44 Yes, Gerald. In love with an heiress! Did you ever hear of such presumption ?? 11~ ~ 1?i- n? xjo i* juiur tierK J 44 Wall," said Effie, firing up, 44 lie's better tban one-half the gentlemen that come here, if he is a clerk. Any woman might be proud of Gerald Hastings' love." Then, coloring and confused at having thus committed herself, she stopped. 44 He is in love with an heiress, and afiaid to offer himself," said Clairence, not heeding her confusion, 44 for fear Bhe will think him a fortune-hunter. Effie, can you guess who it is he loves !" Silence. 44 Effie, may I give my little sister to Gerald Hastings for a Christmas gift f" Still silence. 44 Effie, do you love him f Would you leave me, Effie, to marry him I" 44 We need not leave you. We can all live here. We?" t. ?.ii :-i r>i * .v??t *?on * Brtiu vinrcuw, upviling his arms, and receiving his little sister in a closeembrace. " Pretty well I There,don't blush so ! he is worthy of you. I say, with my whole heart, that I shall give iny sincere good wishes to you both, and be willing to give up iny sunbeam to lighten the path of a man I esteem so highly as Go raid." And, kissing Effie again and again, he left her with parting directions to look as pretty as possible, for Gerald was coming to dinner; and he depended upon her to keep him from going west. Gerald Hastings was walking slowly up and down the large parlor when his employer came in. " Gerald," he said, sternly, walking up to him, 44 you have repaid my hospitality with ungrateful conduct. Did I, when I allowed, courted your visits, give you any permission!" Clarence could not support his stornncss. A sunny smile was [dimpling in the corners of his mouth, which mado Gerald's heart bound with hope.? "Did I give you, I repeat, any permission to fall in love with my sister!" Gerald folded his hands like a timid school-buy, and falured: " Please, sir. I couldn't help it." Effle stood in the entry. She looked very lovely, her golden curls end bright complex | ion being heightened by her rich mazarine blue silk dress. Clarence came out to her. "Go in," he said ; 44 somebody wants to see you.n About an hour afterwards, Clarence, coming in again, found Effie's curls falling over the breast of a black coat, and the sleeve of | the same garment encircling the blue dress. " Well," he said, stopping short, 44 if there was ever seen such presumption I Effie, . come here." 441 had rather stay where t am,4* said a sweet, silvery voice. " You had f Well, if the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed muni go to the mountain. There, Gerald, I think you have received about as valuable a Christmas present as any one in town. Be careful of it; cherish it." Need we say anv more, reader? Effie. Clarence, and Gerald were as happy a trio as dined on that Christmas day ; and Gerald did not go out west. JfltHttllimeouH Uraiiing. Reminiscence. This is our birth-day, and a good stand point for reflection. The world hurries by, in a frolic, hut we choose to stop for a moment and yield to abstraction. Thirty-five years coronate our brow, and yet we are lit tie wiser as to whence we catne, or whillier we are travelling. As to when the first gleam of sunshine illumed our infantile couch, we are utterly unconscious, except from a readiug of the family record, and as to when the last golden ray shall fade on our dying pillow, we know not. Helpless we came into the woild, and helpless we must go out of it. Wo opeued our eyes in tears, and will doubtless shut tliein, when glassy with death, with more or less sorrow. The future is dark, but the past is darker still. Truly lifo is but a dream, of short continuance. Our susceptibilities are good, but yet the impress of scenes and events is not so remarkably distinct as not to be forgotten. Sudden summons hence might startle a thousand thoughts of which, at present, wo are oblivious; but nothing less. There is no aggravating sin, no base ingratitude nor crying shame remaining for us to repent of. We see no u hobgoblins with devils damned," peering at us with a hellish grin, from the mirrors of to day, or to-morrow.? On that score we might look the pale horse and his rider in the face without a shudder; but dare we say our history is without, a blot, and our souls as pure as opportunities have conspired to make them ? No?well may we betake us to tbe penitent's shrine, and how insAckcloth and ashes. But shooting athwart the gloom surrounding the past, is the twinkling light of a star, which will never set. Nothing mav hide it from our view, nor even the terriffic stonn clouds of death itself shall eclipse ii. Nor is it the star of hope, as you might suppose, but that of love, reflected bv the ever-living eye of a departed mother. Ob ye#! The memory of a sainted mother smoothes over '.he chequered retrospect, drowns all cares, and as the polar star of our existence, guides us as eafely down the stream ot time, as the star of Bethlehem diu the Eastern Msgii. Undue Importations.?Somebody said, we think it was Mr. Calhoun, that it required a great den! of intellect to understand and illustrate the tariff question. Our correspondents, however, are men of experience and learning, and bring much reflection to support their respective views. Those who advocate a high protective tariff', however, and who charge excessive importations upon the system of low duties, make some most transparent mistakes. One fact in history seems to have been overlooked by this class of thinkers ; and that is, the enormous amount of importations under the compromise tariff of 1833, in 1835-30, while the duties of that tariff were still at the highest. The fact is, the whole business of tariff will be be?t regulated by a sound currency. It is our Paper Money which mainly sets everybody wild with speculation?that, and the consequent and sure advance of labor and produce, tills every channel of trade with schemers who look only to present gains for themsevels, leaving the certain future contraction to be borne by those who can least afford it. If we could have a currency of gold and silver, and allow no hank notes under $'20 or $50, this would go far to make economy a necessity, and to protect industry and manufactures frnm (lima vnonsimio ?r?/l /.a!U.\ao? ...www * m^muwivii miu \,UI Uij/aco w 111U11 | first lift them up to the skies, only to dash them down to the earth, a mass of undistinguishable ruins.?Philadelphia Press. Plain Truth.?Some one who seems to understand the subject. de*cril>es the education of * young gentlemen and ladies*' of i the would-be fashionable sort, which tends' only to mental weakness and physical decay, as follows: " A young gentleman?a smooth-faced stripling?with little breeding, and less sense,1 ripena fast, and believes himself a nice young man. He chews and smokes tobacco, swears, coaxes embryo imperials with bear's grease, twirls a rattan, spends his father's money, rides fast horses?on horseback and I in sulkeys?double and single?drinks On tawba, curses the Maine law, and flirts with young ladies,' hundreds of which are just like himself, though of a different gender, and this is the fashionable education of our day. The fathers and mothers of those fools were once poor. Good fortune has given them abundatice. Their children will g>> through an ' inexhaustible fortune,' nnd into the poor house. Parents, you are responsible for this folly. 8et your sons and daugh ters to work, and let them know that only iu usefulness tbera is honor and prosperity." , ^ . i|t> >Ar ? / -m Qcidhunc, meaning literally " Wm( now !" ia another name for newsmonger.? t Miss Martincau used to tell a pleasant story about one of the class, who, taking advantage of the interest excited among scientific men in relation to the Ross and ltack Expedition, was more than usually annoying by his fussy questions. " Sir David ! Sir David !" he called out at the top of his voice one fine morning in I<ondon. Sir David Brewster, who was riding down the street in somewhat of a hurry, drew up his horse, and approached the speaker. " Auy newa from the North Pole. Sir nnvi.M" "T>? tlie North Pole!" was the angry reply of the philosopher, as he hastily pursued hi? way again, leaving the quiduunc transfixed with amazement. " What is the matterMr. P inqniied the Rev. Sidney Smith, who came up immediately of;er the occurrence. Tho unfortuaate man told his story,and dilated upon the style of the answer he* had received, 44 so unbecoming in a man of his standing, so abrupt, not to say profane. D?n the North Polo!" 44 Poh, poh ! my dear sir," said his comforter, 44 you must not mind all that Sir David says, lie is ? singular man. You would scarcely believe' it, but I assure you it is only a few evenings ago that I heard him, before a large company, speak in the most disrespectful term* of the equa.or!" Box. J. W. B. Undkrwood.?This gentleman was recently elected Speaker of the llouse of Representatives of Georgia ; some i of our exchanges are telling the following tale on him, which, if not true, is too good to be lost: > 44 The Judge was a staunch Clay Whig, but his son, J. W. U. Underwood, was continually changing his politics. A friend asked, 44 What are John's politic* !" i 44 Really," said the Judge, 44 I can't tell you ; I haven't seen the boy since breakfast."' John applied to the old gentleman for a letter of recommendation to bis friend, then Governor Crawford, of Georgia. It was immediately given; and, sure of his game,I,,I.s, sov ... x?:n?i mi.- i . i viiu i'lik vu |u luiucu^eviliei u1u Knowing his father's eccentricities, he thought it pru- ^ ? .lent to open his credentials before presenting them, and, to his astonishment, ho read the following : 44 My Dear Friend?This will be handed to yon by my son John, llo has the greatest thirst for an office, with the least capacity to fill one of any boy you ever saw. Vours truly, WILLIAM II. UNDERWOOD." But John has since falsified the old gentleman's opinion bv proving himself a shrewd politician and a first rate lawyer. Beautiful Allusion.? What quality of human nature is more ennobling, more soulelevating, more benevolent, than the pure love of the pAient for its child ? And could this love be more charmingly illustrated than in the beautifal allusion of Lainartitie, the great French writer, to his parents! 441 remember," says he, 44 to have seen the branch of a willow which had been torn bv the tempest's hand from tho parent , trunk, fioating in the morning light upon the angry surges of the over-flowing Saone.| On it a female nightingale still covered her nest, as it drifted down the foaming stream ; and the male on the wing followed the wreck, which wa9 bearing away tho object* of his love I" What words could express the attachment of the loving parent for its offspring more eloquent than the foregoing ? And how could a parent express love for the child with more true and beautiful simplicity than did the plain, unschooled man, who had received his education principally beneath llip nn?n cl-c --.1 #? ...? iuu iiciu nnu iur* eat, and who had wielded an axe more than a pen, when he remarked, speaking to his ebildien, "Tho little chips are nearest the heart I"?Spirit of the Age. A Fair Offer Refused.?A gentleman^ who had a son addicted to drinking, took occasion to remonstrate with the neighborhood liquor seller against selling any more liquor to his child. He proposed to the seller to keep a strict account of all that was called for by his son without letting him have any, and he would pay him the full amount it would have been, had the liquor actually been sold. This was refused by the vender, who said be should let him have whatever he called for while lie had the money to pay for it. Thus it will be seen that the callous-hearted vender baa no disposition to aid in keeping any one sober.? ti is a> ineir mierest 10 keep men bonnd in the mar.ados of strc^.g drirh, though family ties ar.d social affection be btirst nsunder, demolished and destroyed forever. No other vocation would ao harden the heart of man as that of selling liquor ; it destroys the fiuer filings of his nature, and brutalize# him to the lowest depths. . [ Spirit of the Age. One of the men who was discharged from the chain-gang at Memphis, once owned * targe portion of the ground on which the city of Nfashville now stands; lie is reputed to be worth sixty thousand dollars at tho present time. Liquor ha* been his rtiin.?? When arrested, he was found lyrtxg^ intoxt cated on the bluff.