The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, May 10, 1860, Image 1
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A REFLEX OP F?OR?XJLAIi EVENTS.
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gecotqd to ^rogr^ss, the' Rights o| tty ?touth, and the Diffusion oftB&eflnl ^inmilcdgc among all glasses of Moving gflpt.
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^VOLUME VII. GREENVILLE, SOUTH CAROLIN, , till BSD\V MORNING. MAV 10, I860. ' Nl'MB* R 1.^
CJrt ^otrtlftra (Bnttrpriae
IS
. xjucrsld mvumx laroetoat monknra,
?
McJUN^JN^&BAILEY,
t>. M. MoJunklrh '!* . . . J. O. Bailey.
W. P. PttlCfe H?H?r.
TKIlMS:
OHE DOLLAR A YEAH, in Advance.
,.Oae Dollar and aHeU, If Delayed.
:?? 11 ADVfcRTISVMBXTS r
Inserted at 75 o?fi? ^wr Cqaare of It ltnee
(or lone) for the ftr?t insertion ; 60 for the ooeond;
35 for the third to the thirteenth ; 20 for
the fourteenth to the twenty-tilth i 15 for the
twentj-urtnth to the thirtjr-uinth ; 10 for tba
fertioth to the fifty-second.
Yearly or balf-yearly contracts made, and a
liberal deduction fro In tho abuse rite*
AdvtrU^mcnU not subject to contract should
have the number of insertion a marked upon
them. Tbey will bo published sad ?barged for
till ordered out..
?rlcrtri> ^atirij.
Oh! Where are My Schoolmatest
Oli! where are my school malee gone I
The shy, the dull and the gay;
They have left me ell heart-sick and lane,
To drag out life's shortening day.
Tl?e house yet remains where it stood.
When it's tncaa-covered roof ( first saw ;
The playground?my eyes 'gin to flood,
When I think of the play ground of
yore! *
The epire, too, that pointed to truth,
And the fall In Sta hobbling rage,
80 vaet in the daj# of my youth?
Ho email iu the night of my age.
Oh 5 where are my echnolmalaa gone?
. Do they yet tote oa life'* etorrny waveeI
Or peaeefally eleep ait aiowe,
'Neath the flower* that bloom o'er their
graree? ' r, ... ,
What day-dream* are mine to enjoy,
Aa I ?it and gaze into the past.
Til) again I'm changed to a boy?
Bat dream* are too airy to la*t.
Farewell) eeattered friend* of my youth,
"Tw your memory dim* theee old eyea;
May your thought*, like yon epire, point
to truth.
And wa'll talk o'er the pact ia the skiea.
I I. ! I ?*
5ln Sntmsting f-tnnj.
I From the Home Journal
THE PHANTOM BRIDE.
44 Wijl you love me even beyond ibe
lomb r
The qucation came from (he Vermillion
li)pn of a young girl nI a fancy hall
in Peris during the reign of Loum XV.
She ww a brilliant brunette, with*bun
dant raven hair, and wore the Spanish
veil and mantilla which the had assumed
(or the occaaiun, with all the
grace of a daughter of Andalusia. Iler
interlocutor, a young -viscount of twenty,
arrayed as a page of Mary Stuart,
in Sootch plaid and Highland bonnet
and feather, had been persuing the fair
unknown all the evening with protest a
tioua of loCe and eternal fidelity, ilia
nnawvr wan prompt ana unhesitating.
u Ye*, 1 swear it. If I die. I will
dreatu of you in Uie sepulchre, and a
thrill of joy will welcome you if your
fv ot but press the gnuw over my-head.*1
" And if I should die!" inquired the
young girl, in a sad tone.
M It y.ou should die, I will be a* faiiliful
to you dead as living ; and it you
shouM&4 permitted to visit roe, I will
kit* your cold bund with as. much love
as at thin moment?and he' fueled to
Ida lip* the little white buud of the beautiful
iHpwtUrd."
*"Ah, weiH I will permit vou, then,
to love me. We shall ace if you will
* be oonmant. Farewell; we shall meet
again."
"Hut where! when!" demanded the
viscount, imxiou*Jy. X cannot tell.?
lVrbap* liero? pqrJymv abwiwkerw-?but
yAtt wjfl see me." And with a gesture
which forbade bint to follow her, she
disappeared in I be crowd.
Two years passed, during which Vis
Wi .mil l/ull.t, ouittlo n \ I . ..!?( a ?
Versailles?in every piece of public re j
sort?for hi? beautiful unknown. He
wn a hcolchinen by birth, end, like
many of his countrymen, bad entered
the service of the King of Fiance. Hut
a court life did not coiiijmrt. very well
with his slender fortune, and ho became,
ere long, deeply invoked in debt.
"You tnu?t hud some rich heiress,"
aui his sympathising fiiends?it was
the Usual feaourca of em bar rased gen
ilemcn of that d?y. But tlip recount
had not forgotten the bewitching An
daiueisn, and was in no niood for the
search. lie was snared the troublf,
however. lire unclo, who was arch
bishop in parti&ut of an Assyrian city
Ja - I I_ ,1.. 1> iS
to iimrrv, jujJ llist lie bad found n wife
Mesbertebr inquire.I Kelph. "I
do not nek if ?be is pretty?it is nij ibe
?mM I* m4S J : - /.r, > ; H-j
* Very rich mid WT pretty
The ViMOWit thought of biu Unknown,
adeifbed; then thought of biecreditots,
m4 foainatsd Toe uncle arrsng
ed everything, am) when all wm settled,
be gave the nephew his benediction and
two hundred pistole#, and tent hint off
to Burgundy to pay hi# respects to
M'lle do Koche Noire, whom ho was to
marry-in a fortnight.
A gloomy journey of several davs
duration brought him at length to the
ancient feudal manuor house of Roche
Noire, situated in the heart of a forest,
on a lofty rocV, from which it derived
it9 name, lie was expected. The
grand door of the mansion was open,
atid an aged servant tuet him at the
threshhold, and conducted him to a large
hall; rft the extreridTy of 'which sat an
old man nud a young girl. The former,
whom he divined at once to l>e the
Baron of Roche Noire, rose at Ids entrance,
and, saluting him in the some
what forma! fashion of the day, present
ed him to h'm daughter Ileriuiue. The
latter had the delicate beauty of the
flower wliieli lin? iinf.ilfl^d iinilof
northern Mm. She ?iw pale, with fair
hair, and eyes of the deep bine of an i
ftalian sky. Her figure was slight hut I
graceful, her hands exquisitely shaped, t
and transparent ?s alabaster. So much ?
the viscoont n??w as he bent low b?-foie ,
his betrothed, and in spite of his pro i
fessed Indifference, he inwardly congrat t
ulated himself on his good fortune. i
The viscount and baron exchanged the '
usual rccipr?K'al compliments titid en '
quiries. Ralph whs accustomed to so i
ciety, and understood well the art of f
making himself agreeable ; the baron, t
spito of his seventy winters, had not 1
forgotten how to be a courtier, and Her- \
ndne had the simple grace, the-dignitv, <
the modesty without proiiderv. of a I
young girl ot'higli bilth, religiously ed
ucaed, hut 'without any rigidity. The i
conviMnation aoon became animated and I
sparkling, while Ralph watched Hermine,
and now and then murmured to
himself, '* She is charming ! blessings on s
inr uncle for finding me a wife at once
so pretty and so ridi.H c
When Kitjij?er was. announced, he of I
fered his hand to the young ?ii I, who |
accepted it with a blush, while the ?
baron led the way to the dining. It I
whs h lofty npaitnietit, fuitii lied in the I
massive style of hamis XIV,, and ujMin s
the walls v/ere suspended ancient .ami
ly portraits. As Ralph'* eye glanced f
over these, it was attracted by one I
whose freshness funned a striking con- h
trnsi to the smoky canvases of the <^e- I
funet Barous of Koohe Keire, It. repre a
rented a young girl of dazzling, hut
foreign beauty, such a* is only found a
tinder the southern skie*. A more In il a
liant daughter of Spain never dancer! li
the txAero in the perfumed gardens of d
the Alhambra. The eves of Ralph wore
fixed immovably u|w?n the canvass; the p
first glance had told him that il *ns his
long lost unknown of the fancy hall. u
* Come, my dear viscount," said the t
hnrnn. " let us l>e seated." i
Pulnli klui toil uttil nltoi-oil f lion
tinned his eyes from the portrait to Her t
mine. In contract with that glowing t,
beauty she appeared to liiiu utterly insipid.
lie made some remark about e
lite picture. The liaroit did not reply,
but a cloud passed over his face, and t
Henuine turned pale, and sal silent i
with downcast even. I
A chill seemed to be thrown over i
these three persons, just now talking so n
joyously'. Hrief remarks were made oc i
ca.dotmllv, in a constrained tone, and
the snpper ended almost in silence. At n
ita close the viscount made the fmigue s
of his journey an excuse for leiirtug 1
early. As the Servant was conducting
him to.hia apaitmenl, they passed again t
through the dining ball. \
"Whose pound ia this?" he asked, 1
pointing to the picture of the lady.
Tiie servant hesitated. i
"Sjrenkl" said the viscount, impeii
44 It i* the portrait of M'lle Fulmen," 1
paid the old Hi .in, trembling.
44 Ami vviio is she f" 1
44 The elder sister of M'lle Ilei mine." (
"Hut film is dn-iefd ill Spanish cob- 1
tunie."
I *' Yen, her mother was h Spanish
lady." <
" And Fulmen, whine is she now f"
"She is dead," raid the old man,
wfinuily. "She lies at tfie haft of the (
altar in the cfrapel of '.ho ch'itcau !n i
"
Fatigue had no power that night to <
tiling alcep to ItalphV eyelids. It w*?
in vain that he extinguished the can
dies, and buried his head under the
blankets; the image of Kidmen still i
pcimied him. Now, it wait Fniiuen in 1
diatil with beauty, an she una represent,
ed ill the picture, and as he lutd seen her i
at the fancy hall; again, it was Fill- i
inen, pule and cold, extended in Iter
coffin under the pavement of the chapel.
Then he reineinbied his oath, to love
lior us well dead as living, and a cold
sweat bathed bis brow. At that mo
incut, ? light hi lite oppu*tle vxtitui'iy
of ll i apariireui aUrncn J lii- attention;
u door, vvhoee esutcuce lie hud not mj*
jH-cied. turned iioUale**!} ou it?* binge* ;
the chic lit* relighted I Jtciu-clvc* ?|n>uihdoouxly,
huU h figure, draped in a
winding'ftheet, enlwcd the room and
Hppruaclltd Hi* lied. It advanced Jowly
; the tno?l acuta Mr could Imve detected
no aound of foou'ej.*. Ura*? as
lie ?h, the vincoimt trembled At the
apparition. When the figure ?m with*
iu a few feet of the bed, the winding
beet wm thrown beck, and revealed a
0
noting gir4 dressed in Spanish costume.
44 Fulmen !" he murninred the piclure
has Ueseeniled from its frame 1"
I(. was indeed Fulmen, just as she
was. painted, save that the lips were
pale, the eye mournful, the whole expression
unspeakably sad.
44 Fulmen !" repeated the viscount,
with a tone of terior. iu which was
mingled a sort of feverish joy.
44 It is I,* she said. "i)o you remember
your oath ? They have told
fou l hat 1 aiu dead."
The teeth of Kalph chattered ; but
the voice was so pure, so melodious,
hat it aided him to shako off the torpor
which was creeping over hint.
44 No, you are uot dead," he exclaim
td, with an effort.
441 have been dead a year," replied
Fulmen, sadly. They buiied me in the
:hapel. You can read iny epitaph on
lie marblo slab, the third from the high
illar."
Ralph could not detach his eyes from
his singular creature, whose marvel
ous beauty countered in some degree
lta unrnv u Kioli tlio untutrnliitn W^sulrl
M V ?V I VI ?* II IV II |UV I | MVIVU ?? VMIU
nherwise have caused.
, " AIh?I" resumed the spectre?drap
ng the shroud about her form with all
:he coquetry with which a living belle
might wrap an opera cloak around her,
I am dead, really dead, at seventeen ;
* hen life was full of light, and pet fume,
ttid music; when tears, men, were so
iweet that they resembled smiles ; when
he present was so happy that the future
was quite forgotten. And then, I loved
rou. 1 trusted in your oath ; but you
lid not cure for me. You have come
rere to marry my sister."
" Fuliueu !" murmured Ualph, who
ell a pang of remorse at his heart, " 1
tave loved you; I love you still."
She shook her head.
"The dead ate never loved," she
aid, sadly.
Ualph trembled. lie felt his blood
nirdle in his veins, lie remembered
lis oath. Yet Fultnen did not com>lain.
She did not overwhelm him
villi reproaches. She seemed re-igncd.
le saw her lean her head upon hei
land ; a tear shone in her eye, and a
hiver passed through her frame.
H I am cold," she said, and, rising
roin the chair in which alio had seated
lerself. she approached tho tit o-place,
md bent as if to warm hen-elf by tbe
IA ! ! I. .1 I - 1 _ a* 1*1. . J I
laiH-eximguituttu unuiu*. iiic ucau
,ro alwayt colli," the murmured.
" Lleavent," exclaimed Itulph, " you
re 1101 dead; but, dead or living, you
re beautiful, more beautiful than any
iving woman, and I love you at on the
lay 1 drat ?xw you."
"The dead are never loved," the related,
mournfully.
44 lint you are not dead. The limb*
if the dead are rigid ; the flesh corrupt;
hey connol apeak ; you are not d Jad?
t it impossible."
" I am dead," repeated Fulrnen. iu a
one of authority which admitted of no
[iieation ; " dead?and yet 1 tutfer."*
* You tufl'er!" the viscount exclaimd.
" Yes. Because 1 died with a guilty
bought in my heart. 1 remembered
he ball where I met vou. It was earth
v love, not penitence, that engrossed
ity lat*l lionnt. Yet, if you w"io are
ilive can love me still, God will perhaps
mrdoti ine, and I shall sutler no longer."
" I do love you,*' cried Ralph, gazing
it tho young girl so beautiful in her
adneea. Yet a secret voice said within
lim, " Ah ! if sho were onlv alive I"
A pale smile pas ed over the face of
lie phantom. It rose and advanced to
vard hiin. Ralph iuvoluuiarily shrunk
>ack at ila approach.
*' You ace," she said na?>urnfully, "it
s always so. The living fear the dead.*'
" No, no r said. be, eagerly, ashamed
>f the momentary terror ; " uo, Fulnttn,
my beloved, come I" {
She oxtended her band, and took that
?f the young man. Kaiph utiered a
try. llisl and was pres*?d by the cold,
clammy fingers of a corpse. She let
his hand fall.
" No," she repeated, in a half so fib
cated voice, "You see it cannot be;
I shall sit tier always!"
And she tied; while Ralph wns so
overwhelmed- that he had no power to
'peak or move. The candles went out
suddenly; silence leigm-d again in the
chamber; lite phantom had vanished.
The next day dawned bright and
l .1a' I 'IM It - .1 D .1 hj i - -
ut'tuiilliil. lie milon ut' nocut; i-?<;irc,
alio did nut appear i?? notice the pallor
slid attraction of hi* guest, proposed a
liuni. The day mhi spent in the open
nil'; and if, amid the excitement of the
chase, the viscount thought of the oei-urienccM
of tlie hut night, they seemed
10 him onlv an ft bewildeting dream.?
liul with the return of datkneas, and ea
pecially at the sight of the picture, the
apparition again seemed to him a leali
t), and lie determined to asceitain the
truth. Pleading.a headache he retired
to liia room, and, extinguishing the can
die*, lie called, softly J
* Kulinen ! Kulmen!" There was no
answer. Again he called :
* Kulmen ! I love you, though dead !"
iHiinediately the candles were re*
lighted, and Kulmen again appeared.?
She threw off her winding sheet and
seated herself in ft chair by his side.'?
Her face bad the cadaverous paleness of
the tomb; ber eye was sad; her step
low and painful; yet lier exquisite beau,
ly exerted the same fasciuation ever
Kh!|'Ii :ts whet) gpat tiling with life fttid
vivacity.
" Fulmen, I lo^e you T he repeated,
gazing at her with admiration.
" Yet if my hattd should touch yourr,"
*he replied, with a aad nmile, * ybti
would utter a cry nl? you did last night;
the dead are alwaya ?old."
"Give me your band, and you will
?ee," said Ralph, extending re?olutely
hi* own. Site took it, and again there
came AVer him the same terrible sensation
iw before; but he bed self-control
enough to conquer it, end again repeat
:
44 1 love you !"
A bright smile illuminated the features
of Fulmen.
44 My poor friend," !>? said 44 I would
gladly believe you ; but if your love
would end uiy sufferings, it must be so
profound, so ardent, that it can conquer
even the desire to live. A tomb with
me must have attractions for you. And
you are but twenty two, Ralph. At
your age, life is sweet."
The viscount shook his head.
44 To live without you is death ; to be
united to you, even in the tomb, would
l>e life."
*4 Take care, my friend."
44 Of what, dear Fultnen f" exclaimed
Ralph, over whom the smile of the
young girl seemed to exercise an over(towering
fascination.
44 Do you know," she said 44 that if
von utter such a wish, God may hear
your prayer !"
44 Ah ! if he would 1 An eternity by
your side would be infinite happiness."
44 Ralph, tny fiiend," interrupted Fulmen,
while a smile of celestial joy shone
in her faoe, 44 take care ; you will die if
von liken mo w
44 I wish to die."
44 Hut you are betrothed to my sister."
An exclamation of anger escaped
him.
44 I hate her!" ho said, vehemently.
" Why f"
44 Because she is alive, while you are
dead. What has she done that she
should enjoy the light of the sun, the
perfume of Howers, the melody of birds f
Was she any younger or more beautiful
I"
Ralph, you are unjust. My sister
iad no control over her destiny or
mine."
44 You are right, perhaps; but I swear
t> you thrtt I will tiwer marry Hermine.
wish to be your's, and . nlv your'a,
rever" ;<
44 You are ruad, my friend ; I cjm?y' j"
..-<-ept happiness at such a sacrifice."' ^0"
She rose ^'owly. . /jui
* Adieu, Ralph," she said, 44 Mar
llertnine and pray for me." ? > ^ .
44 Pulmen! Fultnen '."exclaimed I"
falling on his knees at her feet,
not abandon nie?I love .t tttie Prac
44 But your iove is dei V
44 It is happiness. It> 4 cj
Histories Wis so eari!>Uch?t AT1
that the young girl he* wfo"
" Let mu live olenutfoii, i
per bis ted. J p j?*
- Listen, my frienfnn4. ChroDo
length, as if she could no {ongei rxi the
his entreaties," in this ca-ket," poinfti^J
to a richly carved box which stood upon
the table, * there is a phial containing
a dark liquid."
* And this liquid I"
" Is death r
44 It is happiness," exclaimed Ralph,
seizing the casket.
Fiji men stopped him by a gesture.
44 Not yet," she said : bv-atid-by?at
midnight?but first?reflect!"
Immediately the candles were extinguished,
and he found himself in complete
darkness.
If Viscount Ralph had been a Frenchman,
as soon as Fnlmen disappeared,
lie would have opened the window, and
let the cool night air play upon his
brow. Then, the fever fit being over,
lie would bate said to himself:
" All this in folly, i am twenty two
year* old, an officer in llie king* eer
vice, and am about to inarrv a young
girl, blond a* Madonna, fair a* a lily,
who will bring me nil income of a hundred
thousand livres. I have only to
l>e quiet, and let thing* lake their
course."
After which hd would have slept
quietly, and <1 reamed no more of Kul
men. Hut Ualph was a Scotchman
with an imagination as susceptible of
exaltation as most of bin countrymen of
the land of mountain and mist. A*
soon as the phantom vanished, he retight
the candle by the aid of a half erlingui.-htd
firebrand, and, opeuing the
casket, he took out the phial.
" Kidmen ! Kul inch ! wail for me ! I
am coming f he murmured, and swallowed
the contents at a draught.
For a moment he experiuued a strange
and inexplicable sensation ; a coldness
in the chest, a beat in the bead ; thou
his eye* became heavy ; hi* limbs trembled
; an extreme languor crept over
hitn. and be sank upon the floor, still
murmuting faintly ;
iMiltnen w*u lor me?i love you."
When ICm?]>1i swallowed the content*
of the phial lie expected to awalio in
the other world, lie was mistaken.?
The phial contained only a narcotic. and
he WAN very much astonished on opening
i hie eye*, to find himself in l?ed, and to
see the sun shining through the curtained
window*. A woman sat by the bedside.
It was Ftilmen ! but no longer
the pale, tad Fulnr**, with livid lips and
. . jrt.
form ^nvjplnni d in a windiug-slu>et; hut
Fblfhti), mM, rndiont, joyous, in the
same ctMtoiBu which *b? wore at the
fancy-hit 11 >'
The reader will understand the ox
pluftxtion of allthiu more readily thar
the young viscount, whose hand w?* ntiii
somewhat con fused from the effect* o
the narcotic. The y onng girl had wish
ed to put the sudden passion of hei
bull room lover* to the test; and will
?oine difficulty she had persuaded hei
fond old father, and her cousin llenninr
to lend themselves to the mystification
A little ingenuity, some invisible nasi*
tnnce, a transparent glove, of serpent
skin, aided by the native superstition o
the young Scotchman, were nil that war
nnnoauui f 1t\ ilm _ ?m.iooa /\f llw?
uvvv\"?*> f ?v itIU vyI Vllv OVUVIIIV
We need not say that the viscount
when he recovered his senses, was verj
glad to exchange his phantom bride foi
a living one.
Hiisrrllnnrnns H rolling.
From the Georgia Temperance crusader.
"I'm Tired."
" I'm tired," said the liitlo urchin, n>
he threw down his hat and ball, and
wour.d up his kite string and went and
cast himself upon the carpet at his mo
tber's feet. " Tired of what ?" a>ks thi
fond pareut, as she gazes with materna
pride upon the prostrate form of he
darling son, as he seeks to regain tin
strength that had been wasted by en
gaging too freely in his boyish sports
4"0, I'm tiicd of playing with my ball
and driving my hoop atfd flying mj
kite?how I wish I was a man and had
something to do besides pffty with these
tilings from morning till night."
"I'm tired," says the school boy, as
he throws aside his books and escapes
from the dull routine of school room,
and cools his brow in the sparkling
waters of the neighboring brook?" I'm
tired of poring over these dr v studies?
I see no use of conjugating Latin verbt
and worrying my brain with the tire
some details of Euclid. IIow 1 long
for the inanly sports pf the field, where
I can exercise ray limbs at my will, or
rango llgioiv 4v*(ly woods in search
of thor that are forbiddeu
wit hi""18 tk? '<LT the school room.'
'VptSX J$V tUe bright-eyed lit
tlejfA May, *n<f ft*. freed from the re
uy, 12th Mug. The Cofciuc room, and enmumissioned
Officers and ?> vjn the rudei
rtll attend the days previous P. . ?rH hV
(ruction. > ?,e 8"**)
Greenville Band is respectfully stir so straight
id. By order of f hmJ much
JAS. McCULLOUGftj i;e an,|
Col. 3d Regiment, S. C. #[,, ,
51 __ _ a fall fioin
T. W. DAVIS^ , , ,
tical Watchmaker & Jewel?! (lash
GREENVILLE, S. C. lhe 8:t>
? HE calls attention to his eplefc^' upotl
3fe?)did stock of WATCHES AN to neck
/ WB JEWELRY, which is of th-^ the dev
.JHbext quality. He has the finf, * ,?
y^-Article of Watohes that ha. .?d ,of l.h,S
[Tt-rcd for sale In this market, uj>dia dressing
omprises the finest English and*j0n of find
meter, and" also the fine magic fi,.r_ M..VIim
i celebrated Joseph Johnson Leve, ,
ius Jurgenscn Watch, and all othef.rcme goOC
r"hn above W etches aro in fine (A t,f (l mort
Cases, Hunting, and Open Fact *?
Jrill warrant to keep the best of t/. " ,
sMsn vJ I) f) H t f ll*
cJ^A/EIjFLXs to leave
Jv/reat variety of JKWELRXm,- fcs?t1H fol
hw He deems it needless to ?f?h" !?
th?v<" Jewelry, but says km hmd?<*d !o nrrtvt
VVIP noed. /balance sheet,
PintAS u,milli0"
" 1 Wvrkct- Vimtinn of the
i?wy?-i>AI-RfNGU >ri<,f for thf
next A*PAIRIfttt done in W glor'"?? ?"?
cerlniolry in a workmunlike fl he looks forwnrti
1"t noti??* pntton# of the
v may be found at tl' , .. .
future I.j l"* I?hII bo en
rolled on the-_r-^?? cl? of fame,
and shall Iia.ERATION ruling paa
ttion of hia >
* I'm tiredjf^ jorer, na h<
j hniuliCM hi* prepare? to
| return to l.i^J lDform fMwge, there to
i set'k rest Hi-tbat h? harb order thAt he
may go tortkPreP&?,e? to una accustomed
tuiS. " #Ll%',chaSang compelled la
l e .i"1 t 1*7 I -I
woik for tlnY, no m to <e* of life, whil*
thousands of itf o.'ilow being* are surrounded
with nil of its luxuries."
44 l'in tired," bays the preacher, as lit
close* hia labor of preparing his di*
course to meet the spiritual wants <>
hi* charge. Tired of praying am
preaching when I fear there w ill be sr
few brands plucked from the eterna
burning a* the fruit of his labors, ant
again he renews his vow that he wil
continue to labor in his M ister's vine
vnrd and win soul* from death to eter
mil life.
44 I'm tired," says llio gray-haired sire
as lie leans upon his staff and lookback
npon a life of three score yeari
I J ...i). ^ I... k.s alio.
mm i?-n, nnu fi'inrui mat imt it?> hmuk
ed *o iimnv of Ili<mo precious yearn tc
luntowante; tired of life, and long>
for tlie tiniH lo come when lie nhali lay
thin body down to aieep tlie aleep ol
death.
A!**! hIm! thought f, i* there nc
renting pinoe in thin life wliere the wea
ried aoui nhall Hud repose, where w<
can aay man in truly bleet. Every
phase of life return* the mournful an
fewer? None, none.
1 opened that bleaeed Book?God't
beet gift to fallen aud polluted roan?
and there I found tlie guide to thai
place, where "the weary are at tWLf
,, bleased auuraace, thought I, there ie i
place where poor titWl mortal-1 can find
i that rest that is sought for in vain here
i l>elow. And yet how few are seeking
?to obtain thar haven of happiness, where
' " The weary are at rest,"
1 whore innocent childhood slinll no length
er tire, while engaged in something
f more than harmless sports; where bnd i
* ding youth shall' acquire knowledge i
r that will last when the sun shall cease
1 to he observant of the hour. There, I
r too. In that land of rod, the watchman
' upon the walls of Zion shall see the
frtdls of his labor, where he was almost <
* r*ady to faint by the wayside. I
t Yes, thete is a ple.co of rest, but it is
f Iteyond the confines of this world: it is i
* that l>onrne from whence no traveler
has ever yet returned, whose portal is
I the tomb, throuirh which all must naits
[ to reach the haven of eternal rest.
r Teacher.
The Fable of the Wandering Jew.
The legend of the Jew ever wander
ing and never dying, even from thecru
cifixion of Jeans to this day, spread over
many European countries. The accounts,
however, as all fables, do not
agree. One version is this: When Je,
sua was led to death, oppressed by the
I weight of the cross, he wished to rest
I himsvlf near the gate at the house of a .
. shoemaker named Ahasnerus. This
j man, however, sprang forth and thrust
| him away. Jesus turned toward him.
r saving, " I shall rest, but thou shall
a move on till I return." And from that
time ho has had no rest, and is obliged
? incessantly to wander about. Anoiher
veision is that given by Mathns I'arisir
ensis, a monk of the thirteenth century
| When Jesus was led from tire tribunal (
i of Filatus to death, the door koefrer. (
named Cartafllious, pushed him from j
behind with his fool, saving. " Walk (
on, Jesus, quickly; why dost thou
tarry?" Jesus looked at ltim gravely. (
\ and said, " I walk on, but thou shalt
J tarry till I come." And this insn, still ^
alive, wanders from place to place iu
( constant dread of the wrath to come.
A third legend adds that this wjinder,
ing Jew fails sick every hundred years,
, but recovers, and renews bis strength ;
. hence it is that, even after so many
1 centuries, he does not look much older
1 than Septuagenarian. Thus much for
the legends. Not one* of the ancient
authors makes even mention of such an
account. The first who report some
. such thing is a monk of the thirteenth
. century, when, as is known, the wot Id
was tilled with pious fiction even to disgust.
However, the story has spread
tar, so that it has become a piovorh,
"lie runs about like a wanderingJew." I
Thero are not persons wanting who as '
sett they have seen the wandering Jew. 1
Hut when their evidence is examined
by the lest of historical credibility, it is
found that some im;-osier had made use 1
' of this fable to im)>o*e upon simpleminded
people for soine purpose of his
own. However, the legends are not
1 altogether untrue ; there is a wandering
> .lew who roves alout Europe, through
out every country. This imperishable
being is?pkkjudick aoainbtth* J kwb.
Bojs.
9 The boy is a small specimen of masculinity?but
he is not a man ; though
r now a days he thinks ho is. He is a
j sort of a one dog man. Now, we like
to see bovs lively?rattling?full of life;
yet we like to see them polite, respect
ful to th*ir superiors, obedient, nnd disposed
to keep themselves within proper
, bounds. We have no objections to
boys Hying kites, shooting marbles,
spinning tops, eating gingerbread, but
| we do object to their smoking cigars,
chewing tobacco and cursing like sail
yv.. i.l? ..... i c.._
viif. '' v unu IV l/"jrn vu IU OU U"
| day School, and to Church; and we
like to ?ee them behave themselves;
hut we don't like to see them wriggling
t and twisting in Church, gating up and
, going out, slamming the door, or com
ing to the door at tlte close of service,
I pushing it open and rushing bark with
( a loud noise; or to bear thein talking
, and laughing aloud, disturbing the congregation.
Now, many boys conceive
this to be the very element of smart,
ness. and the high road to distinction:
well. It does seem so. All great men
f once learned their A. It. C.; yes, very
I distinguished men have commenced life
, this way; for instance, John A. MurreJ,
j Monroe txlvvards, John Brown, Captain
I Kyd, Jack Shepherd, and a host of othI
era equally illustrious. One thing certain.
however, their rush light was ex
t ngnished by a piece of Aemp.'Attached
to a wooden structure?called a gallows.
Look out, boys?you smart fel
* lmv? ifiM 11 rn Mtrlainlv An ||?a liirrti
""a ~ %,,v
road to diatinctton?and, from appearance,
yon will go out in a Blaze of
Glory. O, Solomon ! Solomon ! thou
King of the Jew* ! liow true thy remarks
i
f "Spare the rod and yon tpoil the child.*
Lovr can excuse anything but meanness;
hut meanness kills love, and crip#
plea even natural affection.
" Thkre is only one thing,*1 says the
proverb, * easier than flogging a cowi
ard ; it ia to frighten hint.11
I Rrmkmurr, young ladies, that oran>
' ges arc not apt to be prised aficr being
k ?<jueezed a few timea.
j |r
The He a or Life.?Much is said and
sung of the treachery of the u waves of
the da>k blue sea," but how much more
treacherous the sea of life, upon which
the bark of man's hopes an<l prospects
for time and eternity, is -launched.?
In the spring tide of life, when the sails
are set to catch the breezes of pleasure
and enjovment, the murky clouds of
disappointment scatter our brightest anticipations
and bury them beneath the
waves of chagrin and mortification.?
In mauho d's early tnorn, when the bea?
con fires of prosperity and popularity
lure us to the desired haven, the rocks ,
of dissipation and ingratitude intervene
and we are wrecker] and stranded upon
their desert coast. And when our craft
seems in full view of the harbor of success,
the storm of uncurbed passion and
ap)?etite buries her beneath tho dark
waves, with crushed hopes, blasted prospects,
ruined intillect* and blackened
characters. In a word, all that is noble
and trood rpimrl flI-A " in tlm rlnan tw.
B-- "i - r
Kom of the ocean " of dissipation and itnpiety
sunk and lost forever!
How important then that the Pilot ?!the
helm bo of a clear head and undimned
eye?how important that every
thing that would rob us of our power
to rido the waves of danger and peril
that beset us in the voyage of life,
should be eschewed and renounced forever.
The sailor's grog has buried
many a gallant craft, and the landsman's
glass has stink its millions of noble
spirits to irretrievable woe! Let
the living beware in time, ere a similar
fate befall them.?Spirit of the Agt.
Life Without Love.?We sometimes
meet with men who seem to think
ihat any indulgence in an affectionate
feeling is weakness. They will return
from a journey, and greet their families
with a distant dignity, and move among
their children with the cold and lofly
plondor of an iceberg, surrounded by
its broken fragments. There is hardly
i more unnatural sight on earth than
>no of those families without a heart.
\ father hud better extinguish a boy's
?yes an take away his heart. Who
iha 'i experienced the joys of friend-bip,
and values sympathy and affection,
would not rather lose all that is beautiful
in nature's scenery, than be robbed
of the hidden treasure of his heart t
Cherish, then, your heart's best aflfec
i..a..i. ".i. 1 1.
uyin. iiiuuigu in Lilt: vinriu iiiiu |?usii*
ing emotions of filial, paternal, and fraternal
love.
Aoe dims the lustre of tho eye, and
pales the roses on beauty's cheek ; while
irow feet, and furrows, and wrinkles.
>ind lost teeth, and gray hairs, and hald
head, and tottering limbs, and limping
feet, most sadly mar the human form
divine. Hut dim as the eye is, as pallid
and sunken as may be the face of
beauty, and frail and feeble that once
strong, erect and mauly body, the immortal
soul, just fledging its wiugs for
its home in heaven, may look out
through those faded windows, as beautiful
as the dew-drops of a summer's
morning, as melting as the tear that
glistens in affection's eye?by growing
kindly, by cultivating sympathy with
all human kind, by cherishing forbearance
towards the follies and foibles of
our race, and feeding day by day on
that love to God and man which lifts
its from the brute and mukcs us akin to
angels.
DATS TO BB BORN ON.
Rom on a Sunday, a gentleman.
Horn on a Monday, fair in face.
Horn on a Tuesday, full of grace.
Horn on a Wednesday, auur and
grum.
Horn on a Thursday, welcome home.
Horn on a Friday, free in giving.
Horn on Saturday, work haid for
your living.
NVe do not remember the day we
were born on, but, according to the
above, it mint have been on Salnrday.
?Kxchartpt.
Wo wuie born on Salnrday, certain,
if there's any truth in the above.
A Misciiikvous Parrot.?One day
a party of ladie* prfid a vi'it ?lnw?.l,
and several had been hoisted on deck
bv the usual means of a " w?oi.1 . u
the main yard. The chair had descend'
ed for another ** whip," but hhuciv
had its fair freight been lifted out of the
boat alongside, when the unlucky parrot
piped, * Let go !" The order l?eing
instantly obeyed, tho unfortunate
lady, instead of being comfortably seated
on deck, as had been those who pre
.-( ijed Jier, was soused over hem] in (lie
.ea.?Autobiography of a Seaman.
Tax remedy of to morrow is too late
for me evils oi lo ony.
The-wortli of a thing is best known
by Ibe want of it.
Ths short est answer is doing tbe
thing.
I'hj what yon owe, and what you are
worth yon will know.
A mun of words and not of deeds is
like a garden fall of weeds.
* One hour t sleep before midnight is
worth two after.
Wor*- >.nd not words are the pi bt
of loare.
We have forgotten mors than we rc?
member.