The independent press. (Abbeville C.H., S.C.) 1853-1860, May 13, 1859, Image 1
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BY W. A. LEE AND HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 13, 1859. VOLUME ML?NO.
? _ ^
FOETR Y .
WRITTEN FOR TIIK IM>KPKNI>ENT VKKSS.
MELANCHOLY.
Blame not tho Poet's plaintive lay.
Mit.s. IIKMANS.
Blame not the l'oet's plaintive lay.
Nor censure hi* sail mournful strain ;
Sorrow oft murks liim for her prcv,
%Vith galling throngs doth liiin enchain?
Billing in such gloomy, M<l'ning pow'r,
As soon nil happiness to devour.
And Melancholy brootls o'er the mind,
Like low'ring olouds o'er boundless sen, j
Whose troubled waves do lnsli the wind I
Which raised them from their lethargy,
The gloomy mind thus trios t' expel.
And seeks its troubled thoughts to quell.
And gnawing, withering grief takes hold
Upon the Poet's impressionable heart.
Like ravenous vulture, so fiercely b?ld,
Doth tear his prey in many u purl?
Consuming grief feeds silently
Upon the heart's vitality.
Tlien do not blame that plaintive lay
Tlint speaks the l'oet's misery,
That doth the heart-felt grief portray,
Picturing the patigsof agony.
Oh! do not censure such a strain,
'Tis a lieart-wail, not a complain.
'Tis but the soul's lowly moaning,
\Vrungby acute tormenting pangs,
*Tis but the bleeding hearts groaning,
From gnawing griefs unyielding pangs,
Prostrate, helpless, groaning, sighing.
Bleeding, livid, slowly dying.
GuttNWOOu, S. C.
LIVE FOR SOMETHING.
ny en a k i.t-1 6\vaik.
Live for something, be not idle?
Look about thee for employ!
Sit uot down to useless dreaming?
Labor is the sweetest joy.
Folded hands are ever weary,
Selfish hearts are never gay.
Life f"r thee hath many duties?
Active be, then, while you may.
Scatter blessings in thy pathway?
Gentle words and cheering smiles
Better arc than gold and silver,
With their grief dispellig wiles.
Ae, the pleascnt sunshine falleth
Ever on the grateful earth,
So let sympathy anil kindness
Gladden well the darkened hearth.
Hearts that are oppressed and weary ;
Drop the tears of sympathy,
"Whisper words of hope and eoinfort.
Give and thy reward shall lie
Joy umo tliy soul returiiing
From this perfect fountain head,
Freely, as thou freely givert,
Shall the grateful light l>e shed.
THE GOOD ANGELS.
'Come, Ady and Jane, it's time you were
in bed,' said Mrs. Freeman to lier two liltlt
girls about nine o'clock one evening. Ad\
was nine years old, and Jane was a year and
a half younger. The two children hai
been silting at the work table with thcii
mother, one of them studying her lesson
and the other engaged on a piece of fancj
needle work.
'Papa hasn't come yet,' answered Ady
'No, dear. But it's getting late, and 'ti
time you were in bed. Ho may not b
home for an hour.'
A Amw lol/l ocuIa wrtrlr tin fi lftft th
table, and Jane closed her books and pi
ibem away in ber school satchel.
*You can light the little' lamp on ll;
mantel-piece,' said Mrs. Freeman after
few moments, looking around as she spok<
whep she saw that the children had hot
put on their bonnets and were tying the
warm caps close about their necks. S!
J 1 1 moll ilia moniiinrr nf tl
ODQItrilUAJU WOljr -u.. B ? -and
ibercforo did not ask a question, i
though the tears came to her eyo6 and h
voice as she said :
4Itis very cold out to night, children."
'But we won't feel it mofctj^r,' repli
Ady; 4we will run along very quick.'
And the two little ones went out befc
tfoeir mother, whose feelings were choki
her to, she could not say another word,
ttajr closed the door after them, sho rait
ber eyes upwards, and murmured :
'.God bless and reward the dear childr<
# bleak winter night; and as i
little adventurers stepped into tho stn
wind swept fiercely along, and aim
drove them back against the door. I
itliey daugbt each other by tho hands, t
ibeoding their little forms to meet the p
4Mce o?ibe cold rushing air, hurried on
war tbey were- going as fast as tjieir
OplSta TO076. '
The street# #cfre dark and deserteS^
"w#" ^
the ohildWn were no^, afraid, i^ove n
thoirhaarts sod left no room for fear.
They did. not f peak.a word to each oi
as they hastened along. After goini
distance of sev^jraiblocks, they stopped
for? a house, overt^e door of which w
orpam^hut gas lamp, bea
ib? words, 'Oysters and re^feshmenLs.^
% Mi;# for two little)
tester, andmvh an bourj^ but i
they piflfed agi
-^ wraeo dooi#j?)wb iiirned Hgh^ i
JS* fcnjjfla, apd tfegMd into .kjK?
h' rjRW W^^Ttttcfaipaed 4 0199 wh<
'%re iriTfhw*
Ady and Jane stood near tlio door and
looked all round the room. ]>ut tlioy did
not sec the ol?ject of their search, and going
lip to the bar, they said timidly, to a man
who stood behind it, pouiing liquor into
glasses:
'lias papa been here to-night?'
The man leaned over the bar until his j
lace was closo to the children, when lie
said in ail angry way:
'I don't know anything about your father.
And sec here ! don't you conic any moie. >
It* you do, I'll call my big dog out of the !
yard and make him bite you.'
Ady and Jane felt frightened ns well by ;
tho harsh manner as the angry words of
the man, nnd they started back from him, j
and were turning towards the door with :
sad faces, when tho persou who had first !
marked their entrance, called out loud
enough for them to hear him:
'Come here, my little girls.'
Tho children stopped and looked at him,
lulwin lirt llu>m fn nhnrAnpli mwl
they did so.
'Are you looking for }-our father?1 he inquired.
'Yes, sir,' replied Ad}'.
'And what did that man at the bar say
to you ?'
lllo said that papa wasn't here; and
thai if we came here any more he woul.d
set his big dog on us.'
'lie did ?'
'Yes, sir.'
The man knit his brow for an instant
and said :
\\ no sent you nere r
'Nobody,' answered Ady.
'Don't your mother know that you have
i come ?'
J 'Yes, sir. She told us to go to bed, but
i we couldn't go until papa was home. And
so we came for him first.'
'lie is here.'
' Is he ?' And the children's faces brighti
ened.
'Ye*, he's at the other side of the room,
1 asleep?I'll wake him for you.'
Half intoxicated, and sound asleep, it
was with some diflicully that Mr. Freeman
could be aroused.
As soon, however, ns his eyes were fairly
opened, and ho found that Ady and Jam
had each grasped one. of his hands, ho arose
up, and yielding passively to their direction
suffered them to lead him away.
'Oh dear!' exclaimed a man who hat'
1
looked on with wonder ard interest. 'That's
! a tcmuerance lecture that I can't stand
I Goil bless tlio liltlc ones,' lie a<l<led will
I emotion. 'and irive tlioin a sober father.'
! j 'I guess you never saw them before,' sail
' one of the bar-keepers, lightly.'
j 'No, and I never wish to again; at leas
' | in this place. Who is their father?'
' | 'Freeman, the lawyer.'
'Not the one who a few years ago coc
? i ducted with so much ability theense agains
f the Marine Insurance Company ?'
Tho same.'
'Is it possible V
5 A group now formed about the man, an
0 a good deal was said about Eree man's fa
from 6obriety. One who had several tim<
0 seen Ady and Jane in and lead him liorr
lt as they had just done, spoke of them wit
much feeling; all agreed that it was a mos
,e touching case.
a 'To see,' said one, 'how passively ho yieli
himself to the litllo things when they con
h after him. I feel sometimes, when I si
i,r them, almost weak enough to shed tears.'
JC 'They are his good angels,' remark*
l,s another. 'But I'm afraid they are n
6trong enough to lead him back to t
or paths which he has forsaken.'
'You can think what you please nboat
gentlemen,' said the landlord, 'but I c
ed tell you my opinion upon the subject;
wouldn't give much for the mother w
>ro would let two little things like them to
ng- .wandering about the streets, alone, at tl
As time of night.'
ifid One of those who had expressed inter
in the children, foil angry at this roina
and retorted, with some bitterness :
the 'And I would give less for the man w
set. ?.-...1,1 mnl.ii f ft Air falliAr ilriinlr.'
l0fil 'Ditto to that,' responded ono of
*ut company.
in,d. 'And here is my hand for that,' said
res* other.
{he >phe landlord finding that the majo
feet tho - company were likely to be aga
him, smothered his angry feelings and 1
but Bjlence. A few minutes afterwards, tw<
* 1.InmAiao Knr rnnm n
HIICO Ul tuo lltllJWhW vr? *wy ??, . w..?
away. w
ther About ten^'clock on tbe next morn
? 8 while Freeman, who was generally aobc
b?- the forepart of the day, waa in- bis offi<
83 51 stranger entered, and after sitting d<
n8 said:
. ^ ' 'I must crave your pardon before!
girls fpr what I am. going to. sfjr. Will
ifier jrfopinje not to bi t>tfef?ded-f * >'
utfft 'If you offer me an i^ult, I sbajl n
ipon Mid l?wyer1
. 'So far from that, I osm^ilft the d
*?, to, do you a great sarMfiM.'
'. 'Very well, say d$W*
> sit lwi? LawBon s'iMbctoryf last n
l* -*<*>* * * ...
^ I ^
'And I saw something there that touched
my heart. If I slept at all, it was only to
dream of it. I am a father, sir! I havo
two littlo girls, ami I love them tenderly. c
Oh ! sir, the thought of their coming out c
in a could winter night, in search of me, in ^
such a polluted place, makes the blood feel '
cold in my veins.' j 1
Words so unexpected, coming upon Mr. j 1
Freeman when he was comparatively sober, j 1
disturbed him deeply. In spile of his en- j 1
deavors to remain calm, ho trembled all j '
over, lie made an efi'ort to say something
in reply, but he could not utter a word.
'My dear sir,' pursued the Btrangcr, 'you j 1
have fallen at the hand of the monster, in- j
temperance, and I feel that you arc in great
peril. You have not, however, fallen hope- '
I lessly. You may yet rise if you will. Let i
; me, then, in the name of the sweet babes :
who have shown, in so wonderful a manner, I
their love to you, conjure you to rise supe- j
rior to this deadly foe. lie ward those dear .
children with the highest blessing their
I hearts can desire. Come with me and
; sign the pledge of trec-dom. Let us, though
j strangers to each other, unite in ibis one ;
j good act. Come !' ,
| Half bewildered, yet with a new liopo in i
1 his hearf, Freeman arose and suffered the I
I . . .
; man, who drew ins arm wiunn ins, 10 leaci
: liim away. Before they separated, both i
' had signed the pledge.
I That evening, unexpectedly, and to the '
j joy of his family, Mr. Freeman was perfect
ly sober when he came home. After tea, 1
! while Ady and Jane were standing on
j either side of him, as he sat near their (
mother, with an arm around each of them, ,
he said in a low whisper, as ho bent his j
head down and drew them closer:
j 'You will never have to come there for
! me a train.'
The children lifted their eyes to his face,
but half understanding wh.it he meant.
'I will never go there again,' he added, j
T will alwnvs stav at home with vou."
I Ady and .lane now comprehending what'
their father meant, overeomo with joy. hid
their faces in his lap, and wept for very joy.
Low as this had been said, every word
i reached the mother's ear, and while her
j . '
( heart stood trembling between hope an.J
s ; fear, Mr. Frt&mnn drew .1 paper from his
' [.pocket and threw it on the table by which
, i she was sitting. She opened it hastily.
It was his pledge, with the well-known
I j signature at the bottom.
5 j W ith a cry of joy she sprang to liis side,
' and 1)is arms encircled hits wife, as well as
i | i>is little ones, in a fonder embrace than
j they had known for years.
I The children's love had saved their father.
They were, indeed, his Guardian Any els.
Mistakes of Pkinteks.?Somo people
are continuully wondering at the "careless(
ness" in editors in allowing so many errors
and blunders to appear in their columns, and
mar the print. Such people know very
little of the difficulties?we had almost said
impossibilities?of keeping them out. The
/i most careful attention to these matters will
I] not prevent errors from creeping in, ever
I when professional proof-readers are engaged
ie expressly for the purpose. And when it i<
lt borne in mind that in most papers such at
expense is necessarily dispensed with, ant
the proofs on that account, are often hur
js riedly examined, the fact will no longer ap
[J0 I pear strange. In connection with this sub
20 ! ject, the following auocdotc is not iuappro
priate :
3j A Glasgow publishing house attemptei
0k to publish a work that should be a perfee
specimen of typographical accuracy. Al'te
having been carefully read by 6ix exper
enced proof-readers, it was posted up in th
an hall of tho University, and* a reward of fift
j pounds offered to any one who should dc
j10 tect an error. Eacli pago remained tw
gQ weeks in this place ; and yet, when the wor
i.:~ was issued, several errors were discovdrei
uia ?
one of which iras in tho first line of 11
est first page!
rk, When snch was tho case in a citv lor
celebrated in Great Britain for publiahir
ho the finest and most correct editions of tl
classics, what is to bo expected in a new
the paper, which must necessarily be hurri<
through the press while it is news, ai
an- where the compensation will hardly affo
o/i?.?experienpd proof-reader," let alone s
rity The wonted accuracy of our papes is rea
inst astonishing.?Printer's News Letter.
cept * 1
. A Chapter o'v Wit, Anecdote, a
j or ' j?
Yaut ^CFM0R*?well iB tho true phil
nnhv nf lifa. Drovided alwava that, we
~r~~J -v n npt
laugh .at or agaftift our fritfVtds.
j"?' laugh cannot be a true laugh that baa et
<e a the slightest dash of-ntalice in it. To
^wo thoroughly enjoyable it must earing ft
' genial and heart feeling: The laugh &
bad man rings out coldly and has no o
you *Npfcn?Jenoe. jtith his eye; it is amubci
oof (or4U>a assumed to hidasomeibing wo
asent and generally bursts 6t?t when the go
hearted world sigh or sympathHe. 1
?**re chapter is: not-addressed to those who h
, a lau^h with a sqeer on it, butttrtfte g
igbt.* *?iw> can enjoy a joka
4^'vkr--.. ,
A LEAF FROM MY JOURNAL.
TIIE M1SEKKKK.
The Papal blessing having becndispensd
from tho balcony of St. Peter's, I repair- I
d to (lie Sistine Chapel, to obtain, if possi- I
>le, a hearing of the world renowned Mis;rerc.
1 found a small company assembled i
n the ante-chamber waiting for the open- j
ng of the door; groups of Cardinals in the
Meantime, in full costume, sweeping across I
lie apartment, and entering the ('Impel by
i postern. After much delay tho doors
ivore thrown open, and I was fortunate as to
jhtain a scat favorable for seeing and hearing,
and within twenty or thirty feet of I lie
jreheslra. This is a small gallery on one
side of the Chapel, partially concealed in
front by open screen-work. On the great
altar at the farther end, and beneath the
IVescoe of the Last Judgment, eight tall wax
tapers were burning; and a little to the
light was another, supporting fifteen smaller
tapers, of unequal height, disposed in
the form of a pyramid, which were also
lighted. This description is necessary to a
right understanding of the ceremonies to
follow. It was now near sunset; a solemn
twilight pervaded the building, deepened
by the murky state of the atmosphere, and
the absorptiou of tho light by the frescoed
walls.
Tho sacred College being nsscmbled, and
s."tted in a long row along the circumfer
encc of iho Chapel, the chanting of the
Tenebne begins. This in composed of fifteen
penitential psalms; and is presume) 1
to symbolize the darkness over the land
from the sixth to the ninth hour. At the
end of each psalm, one of the fifteen tapers
is extinguished, beginning with the outside,
and proceeding alternately till only the ecu
tral and tallest one is Iefl; and near tlx
close, those on the high altar are also ex
tinguished. The chanting of the Tenebra
occupies about an hour and a half; and, i
the truth may be told, is growing tiresome
when, as it draws towards the close, it bo
'?'"p Avnt-nccivn flirt Jttcnlnfinn n
tho man of sorrows. All the parts arc nov
i gradually blended into one, and proceed ii
' unison, in a simple modulation repeater
' over and over, with little variety: the tiiu
I
i is accelerated, and the strain grows loiukand
louder still, swelling into a monotonous
! wailing cry of agony, thrilling and a lino?
j ter'ilic, till?"It is finished !"
llero tho music breaks o(F abruptly, ntn
, silence and darkness reign, the last tape
! having been removed, burning. The Cai
i dinals rise from their seats, turn their fao<
I to the wall, and kneel in silent prayer. Tw
or three minutes elapse, when a stream <
melody on a very high key, like the vo'u
of the clearest and softest clarionet, at fir
barely nudidlu through tho stillness, hi
swelling till it lings like a trumpet, proloni
ed seemingly, beyond the endurance of ai
human breath, and thou dying away in
diminuendo, announces tho comiuenceinci
of the Miserere.
It would bo useless to attempt a descri
! tion of this wonderful piece. It is suppt
| ed to owo much of its celebrity to the t
i quisite training and skill of the unique p<
[ formers in tho Sistino Chapel ; and th
i one can readily believe. The general e
i pression is plaintive and penitential; t
1 movements arc slow, the two altos ahoui
ing in very high notes long sustained ; tr
- and ouartettes aro interrupted by ser
choral chants, and the whole ending ii
i- slow, solemn, subdued chorus, swelling a
dying nway.
(1 In the person of the leading alto, I r
st ognized tlie chief vocalist of the Pop
r choir, whom I had heard on other occasic
i- but whoso wonderful power9 i una no
o before heard fully developed. At least
y feet in height, with a spare figure and
>- chest, thin lank, hair, yellow wrinkled 1
o age, and features not pleasing, but wit
k kindling eye, ho stood pouring forth
marvellous strains; his voice possessing
iie the compass of Malibran's and Grisi's, v
a clearer tone, and longer and moro equa
sustained, as if tho fountain of Bong?
1Cr inexhaustible.
ie The Miserero was composed for a p<
r3. liar class of voices, to be found in no o
Christian country than Itnlv. < No ot'
1(] could do justice to its altos, which are (
r(] able to neither man, woman, nor child ;
jx- hence, all attempts-to produce it else'w
||y have been failures. Yet, -not nltoge
from this cause. Anywhere else, t
must be wauting the collateral circ
no 6tancea^nd surroundings, which, in
os-. Sistine Cliapel, appeal to the imagine
do in aid of the legitimate effect of the m
A perfect as that may be. Among these, i
tea bo taken into account the anticipation,,
be enterUined, perhaps of listening to a r
om oal performance, peeuliar'and unHvalled
f a with this is associated the (heme ari8
or- hour?tho Lord glory undergoing
ilar sharpnem of death. - On the lofty, d
rse, lighted walla in front of the apeotatoi
od- Michael Angelo's awful delineations of
itm Last JudgT^snt; with many a sacred i
*ve portrayed [Vo0j the, ceiling in freftfetjb
ood 'hand* of great masters. TbcraJs tho"
and with bis Q0?g&?f jCardinalffft tbeij
i robes, all sWeftt^and ra<
A- ro ? 01 * *
less as statues. Tlio last terrible strains of j
the Tenehuc are still ringing in his ears. I
There are tlio mystic tapers, symbolizing, as ;
they arc extinguished one after another, the
waning away of the life on the cross?the |
last one hcing removed burning, to signify j
that the life will reappear. Thero is the j
dim twilight, deepening into the shades of I
night as the music swells moro and more !
dolorous and complaining; and the abrupt j
breaking oil* at the moment when the Suf- |
I ferer bows bis head and gives up the gliost. i
, All theso circumstances combino with the i
; nli'iiu loci to enhance, in no small degreo, !
the impression of the music ; and to show |
I that, when hoard in the sisiinc Vsiiapci, u j
| must in effect, ho quite a different thing |
I from the same performance elsewhere.
I I have spoken of the Miserere ; when in
S fact tliero are several, and hy different hands.
Oil the following day, (<Juod I'liday,) after
j servico in the English Chapel, contrasting
| most favorably in its earnest and beautiful
J simplicity with the gorgeous pomp of the
j llotnish ritual, I repaired again to the Sisj
tine?endured the Tenol>ia\ a different and
much inferior composition ; followed hy a
! Miserere, also new, and of inferior merits,
j Of tho three I have now heard, (otic preI
viously iu St. Peter's,) I have been unable
| to learn which is the original Allegro. The
! truth seems to bo that, in this particular
j service, as 1 have often observed in the
j celebration of the Mass, the performers are
; in tho habit of selecting from different
ivories, thus nroducin<? a whole ofloii supo
I t a
j l ior to that of any one author.
i| It will have been observed that the sronc,
i I have attempted to describe is essoutially
j dramatic. Cue seems to have been a spec
| talor of a sacred opera, rehearsing in music
' and with appropriate external rites, the pas
| sago of our Lord's sojourn on earth, when
' ; he completed what ho caiuo to do. All
f thu contrivances to strike and overawo the
? senses are present; all are admirably ar
- ranged; the air of symbols and mystery is
f; invoked; and not without a deep effect
1 ri" t t ? n k ...i :
*i i no piece nas ol'uii hmiu wen. imu i
i ! tlio spectator be a religious man, lie wil
1 have felt his religious sensibilities quickened
c i and his heart purified, by the vivid prcsen
i' tation of the most solemn and eventfu
>i' transaction of which this earth lias beet
the theatre, or which will ever be seen upot
! it till its days are numbered and finished
<1 But profitable as it may be to a devou
r heart, it will scarcely leave any durabl
moral impression oil one, unprepared
previous holy influences. Such will re
o ! member it only as a piece, eloquent in tli
'? hig'.iest walks of musical composition, ant
j receiving a just interpretation only in th<
st I Sistine Chapel.
*' ! - .. . flirt Avnrti'innAiic T fill
JL | OUUI! ill o niliuu^ luu iviivvo
J-1 noted in my Journal of a Holy Week i
IV ; Rome.? Calendar.
n
ITcMILITV ONE SIGN- OK (lllEATNESS.?
I believe the first test of a truly grer
man is his humility. I do not mean b
humility doubt of his own power, or hosit
tion in speaking his own opinion, but a rigl
understanding of the relations between wh
jr- ?
ho can say and do and tho rest of tl
is, J
world's doings and sayings. All great m<
lwi not only know their own business, but kno
j | usually that thoy know it; and arc not on
ios I riShtin ma'n opinions, but they us
. ally know that thuy are right in then
! only they do not think much of thomselv
) a ; 3 J
n I on that account.
The have a curious undor-soriso
cc of powcrlessness, feeling that the gr<
to nes3 is not in them, but throuyh the
that lliey could not do or be anything c
' than God made them ; and lliey boo sou
ver , . ' J
gjx tiling divine and God-made in ovbry otl
^ man they meet, and are endlessly, foolish
incredibly merciful. The slightest ma
^ a festation of jealousy or self-complacency
j(js enough to mark a second-rate character
j(U iutelleot.?Ruskin.
rith A Good Name.?A good naino is abc
bly all price. Have you not found it so, yoi
rere man you whoso well known virtues In
placed you in a position which you occ\
;cn- with feelings of commendable pride ? /
tlier you whose famo has been the target of
hers v'ious tongues, have not you seen g
*uit- naiuo to be the only brea9t-plato that
and impervious to tbe poisoned shafts of call
hero ny? , Gold and talent, fere. these withoi
ther character? A light to render darkness
here ible ; a gilding, which by contrast, mf
urn- the substance fnore revolting f Cherisl
the then, all ye who po6ses? it; guard it c
tlion fully; Car, depend ypon this, its,purity c
usio, tarnished, the roost-ur.w earjing cffoit
must hardly'restore it to its prime lustre. Li
Jong attend you through the jonrney of life, crc
nusP iDg your days with peace and h'appii
jand ^be*'rectitude which won it will
I the grave it upon your face a letter
; the recoimnendaliou to people of every na
iirnfljr and tongue ; and when the treasure i
r? are longer needful to you, it th?tU descent
the y0\iip posterity, a legacy with which mil
ttory on millions would not bear to bo cotnj><
l> * -Give* man: brains and riobes, ani t
' kipgy^va him brains without richea
f B?r* he m hitn riob? wh
>tion- brained b? is a fool. . [ri,
I t 'f. (Wlv.j r\.!.
>/>W" * * ?.?*
J'rom the Xorth Uritxth Urcinp.
THE HORSE OF THE ARAB.
General I Minnas' book upon llie horses of |
the Sahara is, without his having meant it ! j
to be so, the most successful attempt yet
made at a relation of tho teutlifo of the !
Arabs. j
Prnni ivlint fl<?nr>i-;il TY-ilimns rpiifilts if i
is impossible that the horso and !iis rider
should not bo one in the social habits of the
nosrct. For the first few months of his life,
the foal is pi veil up to the euro of women,
and at a year and a halt' old he is mounted
by children.
The only method of making horses infulli
My docile," says General Daumas, "is, no- ;
cording to tlio Arabs, to givo them riders .
of a weight corresponding to their strength 1
at tlio very earliest age. The existence of
Arab horses is perpetual movement; ho is :
I never at rest ; ho goes far and wide for his J
j rider's purposes, f;rr and wide even to fetch :
: his own food ; farther and wider still, very
! often to fetch hisdrink. lint this makes him,
i like his master, abstemious and indefatiga;
bio; and this is the kind of apprenticeship
i which makes him, in moments of emergenJ
cry, capable of incredible dibi ts." * ' *'
I "At eighteen months old, a ciniij
I ? '
j leads (lio foal to grass, or to the water,
j wherever that may he, or mounts him willi
an easy, soft mule-bridal. This exercise
suits both ; the horso grows gentle and the
j child grows up to know how to ride. This
is the principal cause of the posibility which
the Arab possesses of assuring you with
truth that 'lie has to learn what is the meaning
of a restive horse.' "
liv the wny, Mr ltarey's much-vaunted
system of horse-training has light thrown
on it in the pages of General Dauinas. The
"Cavalier-type," as the French call him, the
nuer who iiunu'iiauiv, in modern nines, as
I nearly as possible, realizes tlie existence of
the fabled Conlaur of llie ancients, never
admits of the practice known in all other
paits of tho world under tlie denomination
of "horse-breaking." The Arab "breaks in''
f j no horses, nor would dream of such a proI
cceditig. He "educates" the animal,so thai
ho shall never stand in need of being "bro
> .
. ken in and lie lays down a? a principal
j never to bo violated, the "voidance of any ol
, tlieso struggles between mo uorse anu in?
, rider which, supposing oven the latter to be
victorious, mako the man's victory possible
t only at the expense of the horse's best qual
jj ities." At two years and a half a grown mat
, mounts the youn<r horse. But for a consid
* I
erable time lie never goes beyond a foot'
e paco and lie is only required to be gentle. Hi
j bit is tho lightest imaginable; his rider ha
u | no spurs; under his hand is only a men
j twig, which ho tries never to use.
j uIn this way," says tho General, "ho goo
u to market, visits his friends, inspects hi
pasture lands and Hocks, and sees to hi
his affairs, requiring only from his compar
ion obedience and docilty, both of wbie
: he usually obtains by speaking to tli
y | horse in a loud, kind tone but never shov
11" ing anger, and never provoking resistanc
it * * * At the nge of three, and a Iih
ilt or four year?, somewhat more is deinan<
10 ed from the liorso, wlioso food is now vei
~n abundant. Spurs are then used for the fir
w time?and lo docility it is necessary 1
'y should add boldness. This is easy too; f
tlie numerous l>jasis 01 ail khhis mi?i,
11 ' the Douar, have bean life long liis coinpa
0:4 ions in the day, have' usod him to every sj
cies of noise; besides which, he b
c
heard the hootings and bowlings of t
eat wild animals that prowl round the ter
m? at night, and that ceaseless firing of pist<
'b0 and guns that is insepcrable from bis in
[10" ter's every-day existence; all of which mal
ier it hard to frighten.or tako a horse by s
i If. . _
' * pi'180.
'3 Bucket Letters.?TIjo Augusta Cc
' Rtitutionalist, under the head of 'Ilistorit
Question Settled,' contains a comfnunii
)V0 tiou in explanation of the origin of I
lng term so commonly used ?Bucket Letter.
aye The author of the first Bucket Lett
jpV was a young, talented, and facetious lawy
in^j residing in Clinton, Jones county, and ?
en_ known to the people of Middle Georgia
ood Dav'd I. Holt. Holt was a warm Trc
jg man, in the memorable contest of 18
JITV and was in tho habit of writing long t
it a fre(luent letters to the then President of
United States, John Quinoy Adams, sigi
Edward Bucket.
li it, The letters evinced so much talent, i
are- displayed such thorough and accui
>nce knowledge oftho questions discussed,!
will the Presidents curiosity was greatly e
ot it ted to kuow the author. The correspt
>wn. ence was shown to members of Gong
(less, from Georgia, and upon investigation,
en- vio I. Holt was ascertained to bo the
of tbor.
tion The sell waa incb a good one, that
no meinbers of Congress, let out (ho whole
1/ to ry, and from that day to this the ?
lions Buoket Letter i? always used to deacrib
?re<J. letter signed b&j*oarae other tbarfl tbs
. Its author,
od ' ' ' ' * 1 * " '
JklMl .r *fi> prevent fish from siAellipg in
wtf
I': v.
THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD.
The following is an extract froin a sermon
of Spnrgeon, the Jjiglish preacher,
nnd is a specimen of the eloquence which,
within a year or two, has made his nnnrj
familar in both hemispheres ;
"Can any man tell wln-n the beginning
was? Years n'_;o wo thought the begining
of this woilu wa> when Adatn came npou
it; but we have di.-covored i'i ?t thousand
of vears before, <!od \va> formm;; <:hao!iu
matter to mak>' it a fit abode !?>r man and
putting a raco of creatims upon it,that tiny
might die and leave traces of his handiwork
and marvellous skill In-1 on; he tried his hand
on man; Hut this was no beginning, I'm*
revelation point* us to a p<*iii>?l long ?-r? tiii;
world .was fie-hioned, 1<> I In* days when tho
morning stars and constellations fvi! thickly
from tlies hand of f!od; when, 1-v hi-! own
lips, he launched forth ponderous orbs; when,
with his own hand, he si-nt comets, I:U >
thunderbolts, wandering through the sky,
to find one day their proper sphem. W >
go hack to thoKe da\-? when worlds w?tu
| made and systems were f.t^hioncd, and wo
have not approached the l.?-t>inni::g ye!.
"Until we ?o back to the time when all
| the universe slept in tin: is..ml of f> >d, a-;
| yet unborn?until we cut; r into eternity,
where Cod the Creator dwells alone, even
' thing sleeping in his mighty gigan'.io
; thoughts, wo have not guessed the 1
| ning. We may so back, back, back, ages
upon ages. We may go bark, if v.c may
! use such award, whole eternities, at id \v?.
never arrive at the In-ginning. 15ut <!mi
j from the beginning chose bis people, when
unnavigatod ethor wa? yet unfanned by tho
i wing of a sii.^le angle; when :-pacc w.u
fchortnc-ss.or else uuhoin ; when universal
; silence regained, and not a voice or whi-pcr
! shocked the solemnity ofsilonee ; whenthero
j was no beginning, no motion, naughtbul < >od
I himself alone in his eternity; without tho
I attendancecf even a cherubim, loni* ere iho
i
' living creatures were born, or the wheels ut'
| the oliariot of Jehovah were fashioned ;
j even then, "in the beginning was the word,"
and in the beginning 'ioil's people were;
in the beinniiiuir h:; chosu them all uji'.u
, I eternal life."
J J FuESHN'liSS Of THK lilKI.K.?'1 llO le.1l ll
? j Le Clere tella lis that while be was com*
. ! piling bis Harmony, lie was so struck with
. . admiration of the -excellent discourse of
, | Jesus, and so inflamed with tho love of his
. j most holy doctrine, that be thought he had
h | then but just begun to bo acquainted with
5 what be had scarcely ever laid out of hii
s | bands from his infancy.
q i^ucen 'Siizabeth, who spent much of her
time in reading the best writings of her
s own und former ages, has left on recoid tbo
s following: "1 wnlk many times in llio
s pleasant fields of the Holy Scriptures, whuro
i- I pluck the goodlisome herbs of sentences
|i by pruning:, cat llieni by rending, digest
e them bv musing, ami lay them up at length
f. in the high soat of memory by galheupg
e. them together, so that, having tasted their
|f sweetness, I may less perceive the bitterness
J. of life."
rv During the lime that l)r. KcnnicoW waa.
3t employed on his Polyglott llible, it was
ic tho constant oOlee of his wife in their daily
or airings to road to him tho?e different por
in lions to which his immediate attention was
n- called. When preparing for their rule, tho
,e- day after this great woik was completed,
as upon her asking him what book she should
he take, "O," said ho, ''let lis begin the Uible.''
its * 1 * "
3]s Church Etiquette.?The lloino Jonrag.
nal thinks there is good sense in a su^cs:03
lion made by an American who thus writes
ur from London !
"In tho churches, whoever coinos first,
whether gentleman or lady, takes the furrn
ther seat in the slip, and those that follow
;al fill up the remaining seats, and thus prevent
ca- the awkward disturbance which occurs in
:ho our churches herek in the process of filing
out and in by men, in order to isolate wo.
er, men nt tho further end of tho pew. It is
er, said the habit so universal among us origi'ell
noted with tho early settlers, who sat near
as the doors 4$ tho pews, so that, in case of an
>up attack by t!5e Indians, they might bo ready
25, for action. In many instances this marchwd
iug out and in, like a parcel of soldiers, is a
the perfect nuisance, and tho custom* m igfit
lied well bo changed,"
anvmr to Ladieb.?Wo have been nd
rate monished by the royal philosopher of the
.hat Jews, tlmt the B?n should not go down
xoi- upon our wrath ; but had Solomon penetra*
>nd- ted half tho mysteries of tho female breast,
ress bo would havo additionally interdicted a
Da- sunset upon ?ur coolness f Anger is ofau
brief endurance, and soon raves itself to
rest; but cooltiofcs is as long lived as otherthe
ooldrbloodcd animals; it is as the toad
sto. which exists for a thousand years in the
vord heart of a rock I Were I, like Dr. Gregory
,e a and other moral taotician*, to bequeath
it 'of '?gacy counsel to my daughters, I woujd
say; "Neversleep upou a misiinderstandfl&g
with those you love ; if you f?ol lew kindly
tho towards thorn than usual, tho chanoea rflq
that yon aro in tho vvrcyjg."?JSmjpson.
... * '? ' * ' k, i 4 t .#. .
f ' - 9*i . fl* t ? v I I ; J ' / I