?* ^
'^...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.