The independent press. (Abbeville C.H., S.C.) 1853-1860, July 15, 1859, Image 1
-I I ,
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BY W. A. LEE AND IIUGII WILSON. ABBEVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 15, 1859. VOT.ITMR vir_._\m ..
POETRY.
A LIFE INCIDENT.
In its cot the balic was sleeping,
While its mother by it sot;
Little Mary very busy,
I'laying round with this and that?
Singing now ionic little ditty,
With a gleefulnessof tone,
Then, absorbed by childish prattle,
Gave herself to that alone.
Suddenly aa if enchantment
bound her by its witching spell,
Stood she still and gazed delighted
On the babe she loved so well?
*Gat6d as though it were some vision
Of supernal sp'emlor shown.
Sent down from its source in heaven
For her little alone.
'"See the light 1" at length 6he uttered,
With a rapt, delighted air,
See it ro<and the baby's forehead,
Lit" the eun upon its hair!?
She is like the heavenly angels
That the shepherds saw by night,
When the glory shone around them
With that great and wondrous light 1"
Then her mother looked, and wondered
At the words her daughter spoke:
Kaught she saw of light, save beauty
That from every feature broke;
And she felt an awe within her
That she soarcely could express
As she heard those words mysterious
From the little prophetess.
"Mother, if the light should perish,
And the lamp of day should pale,
Would not this Bweet ray still cheer ua
Even though the sun should fail ?
Never light appeared more lovely I
Mother, see it flash and play;?
Surely 'tis a blessed angel
That has hither made its way!" <
Then the mother knew the token, I
Though her h^art diJ not rebel,
And to God's high will submitting, 1
Sn:d?'-He doeth all things well," I
Ah, the sweet. sad divinations!
Ere another daylight shone ;
Sunward with the radiant antrels
? * t
Had the darling nestling flown.
^ m- '
A LIFE PICTURE. I
DY GEOUINE WALBRIDGE. {
It is a stately mansion, and the fair woman
who is its mistress seems fitted to pre- t
side over tbis elegance. To night she gives ^
a lurce nartv. Sh? is oitiro^ f?p tl>?
O ~ I J ' ? ^ t
tioo of her guests, and now while she awaits ,
their coining, let us sketch her for you. j
Mrs. Clifton is a woman of rare beauty, p
Her form is above the medium height, and j
the most perfectly majestic of any womon's t
I have ever seen. Her hair is of a rich, ^
dark brown; her complexion white and v
cold-looking. There is no coloring any- 0
where but in the lips, which are a deep red. i
Her eyes are deep blue?not loving eyes, ttl
but calm and bright. Long brown lashes ^
sweep her marble cheek; her lips are tru- r
Iv haurditr. an<1 poo Kwim
* O-W "M"" ' s
She is dressed in purple velvet, very long v
and ample skirt, and made low at the throat. |(
There is but one ornament in her heavily a
braided hair, which is a small pin eet with a
diamonds. Her dress is fastened at the w
throat with a diamond lr>ach, and she 0
wears diamond ear-rings. Upon her round t|
white arms are heavy bands of plain gold. u
But the rooms begin to fill. A dainty |,
piece of girlhood in rose-colored crape, and
with light brown ringlets sweeping to her n
waist, trips oa the side of Mrs. Clifton, and ?
bending her queenly bead down to here, l(
rhiapere: ;t
"I persuaded a friend of ours, Mr. Den- tl
more, who Las just arrived, to come with tl
us, assuring bira he would be welcome." fc
What is there in the childish creature's h
whisper that calls the blood to the cheek I
of Sybil Clifton, and then receding seemB p
to leave it whiter than before? The white w
fingers are clasped almost cenvulsively for tl
an instant?and then Sybil is herself again, 6<
I J t
cuia ana very calm. tl
Other guests are dow making tbeir way m
to Mrs. Clifton. Her eyes are fixed upon I
them before tbey observe ber, and a slight tc
sbudder betrays that One of the gentlemen
approaching is one of whom Kittie Meade fin
whispered, causing her previous emotion. e<
"My friend, Mr. Denmore, who returned w
from Europe last week, has arrived in this ca
city to-day. I prevailed upon him to ac- e?i
company me here this eveuing."
Mr. Dflnmnrfl t.*_
w uveal io upVU UCUUIU^ 1113 g,
eye* upon tbe lady before bim, and bis lips a*
part as if to say sometbing more tban ac- Q(
koowledgmeot of (be introduction; nod
then hastily controliug himself, bo bows
OTor tbe lady's band with tbe most finished
* rc
courtesy. ic
Sybil Clifton raises ber eyes casually to rc
tbe stranger's face, and, extending ber hand, ^
eaays: it
"Mr. Denmore is welcome to-night." ^
She betraya no emotion before him. Sbe- vt
miles the same smile, and is tbe same
graceful, self-possessed woman before bim
that she is to others* He moves amid the os
other guesta with Frank Meade, bowing m
J ?15 ' -
?du smiiiog, ana ensuing?but tbos? dark cc
eyes aro continually seeking the form of Sy- II
bi! Clifton. , H*
Finally be bffers her bis arm for a prom- Ml
enade. He leads her to the oonservatory; foi
and, at the farther end, ?tnid the Hob odo, I <
of beautiful flowers, he paused?and, stepping
before her, says:
"Sybil, when I come to the soiree of Mrs.
Clifton to-night I did not know I was to
find in her Sybil Dean. I owe you an apology
for m)' intrusion, or I would not have
annoyed you by asking your company for
a promenade."
"I told you, Mr. Denmore, you were welcome
; Sybil Dean, or Sybil Clifton, has
never so far lowered h- rself as to utter anything,
even for the sake of conventionalism,
that was untrue."
And, as she stood there, with the rich
folds of her velvet dress falling around her
queenly form, she looked the very impersonation
of honor and indomitable pride.
Edward Den more, as he stood beside the
cold, calm woman whose haughty manner '
betrayed not the slightest quickening of the
pulse, was as proud as himself in his bear- 1
ing. His eyes, that could look dreamv ami !
- ? J soft
as a woman's, were as proud in tlieir '
midnight blackness as were here. '
"Since I have made my apology and you '
have assured me of its Heedlessness, we
will return to the society of tbose who I '
think will he more desirous of our presence 1
than we are of the exclusive society of each 1
other." * J
"Edward IXnmore, you led me to this ^
conservator}' for the purpose of overpower- '
ing me with your pride and indifference. 2
Know that I have read your motive ; and 11
know, still further that I have pride suffi- ^
cient to match your own. Once you saw ^
me tremble, and saw my eyes fill with tears ^
at your bitter words?butnotone fell! this
cheek has never vet been stained hu ? b
for you ! 1 call them back to their source 11
before that. It is nearly two years since we ri
parted, and in that time there have been ?
many changes." 11
"Ave, many changes?but time has not P
iltered you any, Sybil Clifton ; it has only 11
brown another mantle of ice around your S
Vozen self. Pray tell me how your bus- ^
)atid likes the companionship of the statu- ^
iry I have chilled." ^
"Edward Denmore, how dare you say n
his to mc ? lIow dare you speak such Cl
vords of my noble husband ? I see you do C(
iot understand me. Listen ! Three years ^
ago I was betrothed to you. I laid upon
rour heart's unworthy shrine my woman's ?
>ure, first love. In less than one year you tc
lislrusted me, ai.d in a moment of anger ^
lirew back the love I gave. You believed et
he words of a discarded suitor whose soul
vas so small that he gratified his feelings ^
if pique at my refusal by telling you that a
had once confessed I loved him, and ma- ^
iy other things my lips shall not repeat P'
Vt the first burst of cruel words from you,
ny girlish heart was grieved ; but in an intant,
when I knew their cause, ray grief
?as gone. Contempt broke every throb of
ave I ever felt for you. I did not hate you, er
nd I wondered that I did not; my guardiu
angel was near in that terrible hour, and,
,:#u _l:. : t .. .
r.cij iici wimu wing* tanned asiae itie Dreath
f hatred ere it Lad been blown through ls
:ie chambers of my heart. But scorn sat cc
pon her throne, and, ere she laid down
er sceptre, had crushed out all the love tw
?y being ever knew. One year ago, to- tei
ight I was wedded. But I did not give tri
ty hand, as perhaps you think, without
slling my husband of our engagement and
s termination. I respected him fully? n'!
lis I said. Aye, I regarded him more y?
aan anv other Derson hut. T ?? ist
? , ?
>r an human being. Affection was anoi- by
ilated from my nature. Ho took the little A.I
bad to give, and gave me the name I so St
roudly bear. I have done; know that it te(
as not you that 'chilled the statuary,' but tr,i
le spirit of contempt that abode in my bo- w'
>m, when I learned the unworthifless of 0fl
le object upon which T had lavished so etl
luch. Since then - no, the regard na
now bear roy husband is something far 001
*> 8acred to he spoken of to you. a"
He made no reply. Mrs. Clifton swept mi
oro the conservatory, but, before she reach- 8r<
I the parlors every veslige of her emotion Sti
as gone. She bad so long been cold and n,e
ilm, that her exterior continued envelop- 8'd
I in iciness.
That night, after the guests were gone,
fbil glided to the side of her husband, j
id winding her white arms around bis ing
ttk,said, with tears in her eyes,? die
"Mv nrAriniin hmKinil " *?
_ r . IDC
She loved him, and the magnificence a- raa
iund ber did not mock the bitter anguish
i ber soul?the heart beating beneath her ^
>be was not crying out in agony?the
>unds smothered by the velvet folds above ^
Beneath tbe marble exterior there bad ^
*>n re-lighted the lamp of afftctioo.? Warty
Magazine.
m . 4|DU
Skcrktb.?A secret is like silence, you cjft)
?nnot talk about it, and keep it; it is like ^ <
oney?when once you know there is any
ncealed, it is half discovered. "My dear
urphy !" said an lr^shibau to his friend, j
fby did you betray the secret I told you |" ask
b it betraying you oall it f Sura, when I Fot
and X wasn't able to keep it my?elfi didn't Yei
io to tell it to somebody that coutt f' tin
. i v , / ' '4
COTTON CULTURE IN CUBA.
The Iiavantta correspondent of tlie
Charleston Courier, writing under date of
June lOlh, says : "The British Consul
General will be cn route to England before
this reaches you, to promote the interests
of the Cotton Growing Company, in England,
and other European countries. So
your cotton growers must bo on the look
out, or Cuba will drive them from some of
the European markets. I do not write this
in jest, but wiih more of sorrow than any
other feeling."
That a well concerted and powerful ef
tort is about to be made to grow cotton on
a large scale on the fertile island, is a fact
worth considering. Coolie labor, obtained
at a mere nominal price, is to be used to
cultivate the plant; and as the supply of
the Asiuticos is ten-fold iarger than that of
the Africans would be, if free trade existed
ilike in both, slave holders have far more to
"ear from this new source of competition
han is generally believed. In the same
etter this correspondent says :
"The French ship Alexandre arrived on
he 27th ult., from Macao via St. Helena,
n one hundred and ninety-five days, with
liree hundred and ninety-seven "Asiaticos
~ree colonists," consigned to Messrs. Fernan- '
lez & buhirnper, of this city. There were 1
hirtV-SfcVen ilnatlis r>n llm Tl.? f
? ? - - - ?8?. ?..c
American ship 'Live Yankee' arrived 2d '
nstant, from Macao via the Cape of Good
lope, in eighty-eight days, with seven hun- (
Ired and eighty-eight Asiaticos. She had '
>ut twelve deaths on the passage." ^
When every "live Yankee" is able to "
ring seven hundred and eighty eight labor- c
ig people from China in eighty-eight day#, 1
eady to engage at once in tho cultivation ^
f cotton, in every West India island, and '
1 Central America, it is easy to see how a 11
64 I
owerful competition may grow up in our
nmediate vicinity in the production of this
rent Southern staple. Our exclusion of c
oth Coolies and negroes operates as a boun- ^
7 oil the importation of both Africans and
.sialics, into Cuba, to grow the crops which
light enrich our own agriculturists, our 9
ammerce, and our manufacturers. We ?
3py from the Courier, another paragraph
om the pen of the same writer :
"On the 30th ultimo, about half past 5 ll
clock, p. m., quite a crowd was attracted
> the wharf to see a bark towed in by the ^
n
egla steamer Jir, whose crew only consist- t|
1 of two or three persons; she proved to
l our old acquaintance, the J. J. Cobb, of j
ew York, which sailed last December on 0
pretended Irgal voyage to the coast of n
frica, but which legal voyage, there is am- 0
e proof on board of lier, was for a cargo 0
slaves, which had been landed and the
irk was then abandoned. Siie was found
?
>relict twenty-fivo miles from land, the pan a!
Matanzas bearingS. S. W., by the sclioon- se
Cumberland,of New York, who brought ^
)r to this port, where she now is. The tc
irk Ardennes, about which so much was ^
id and written near the end of last year, t|
also expected daily to arrive from the p
iast of Africa, with a cargo of Africans. t|
aus, the 'stars and stripes' hare again, in gt
'O instances, been used as a shield to pro- fo.
et the Spaniards in the African slave
?de." "n
Taking all the facte together, ns present- i|j
in th^current history of Cuba, they fur- D
sb much food for grave reflection. Be- f0
nd all question, a double slave trade ex- fa
a?carried on between China and Cuba 8j,
r "live Yankees;" and between Cuba and })(
frica, under the folds of ihe "Stars and jn
ripe3." The preseDt policy of tbe Uni- p,
I States creates and sustains this double er
ifSc in persons held to service; and who m
II say that our system has improved one 8|,
ious feature of the slave trade as it exist
sixty years ago? What is to be the fi- th
1 result of the constant importation of ro
Hon growers from Africa and Asia into Be
parts of the New World, where the cli- lGi
ite is adapted to to the production of ths je
3at staple, except into the Southern a
ites! We present the naked facta as fur- Bt8
ihed from a reliable source, for the coo- t|v
lerat.inn nf intollif?in?
?.mvvmi^viih vouoin. no UJity
?e our eyes, but that will not extinguish m<
> light of day.?Fields and Fireside. tu,
Some one blamed Dr. Marsh for changI
his mind. G*W<tll,' said he, 'that is the
ference between a man and a jackass;
> jackass can't change his mind, and the 'ie
in can?it's a human privilege.'
A. little girl, showing her little cousin ^
>ut four Mars old, a star, said, 'That star ^ .
i see up iher^ is bigger than this world. n ,
o, it ain't,' said he, 'Yes, it is.' 'Then
7 don't it keep the rain off!'
in honest old lady, when told of her
isin's death, exclaimed, 'Well, I do de-* He
re, our trouble* never come alone I It ja''
't a week since I lost m? best ben, and
r dear Tom has gone, too, poor man P om
fav
K benevolent lady visited the jail, and ing
ed a prisoner, 'What are you in forf Yo
stealing a horn.* ' Are you not sorry !n
u* 'Won't von try and do better next tha
f 'Yes, 1 11 ateaJtwoP wo
* "
HIRING CHEAP HELP.
UY ISA CLAYTON.
"Husband, il will not answer for us to
hire such dear help ; two dollars a week is
! altogether too much ; only think, if we
could hire for half that amount I might
have a littlo "pin money" occasionally; but
now every cent wo can get goes to pay a
hired girl. Shall I find a girl who will
work for a dollar a week and tell'Margaret
to leave ?"
"If you have a mind to, Lucinda, but I
am afraid you will regret it, Margaret is so
reliable."
Nevertheless Mrs. Dunham did dismiss
Margaret, the faithful and trusty servant,
and in her stead she procured the services
v. j.<iuug, inexperienced girl, whose wages
were small, and whose stock of patience
or application to business of any kind was
ditto. Tlie havoc she made among the
glass ware and crockery was immense ; the
house from attic to cellar was in a state of
disorder. Mr. Dunham was daily vexed in
consequence of irregular meals, and poor
at that, so what, was to he done. Mrs.
Dunham's health was delicate, and to he
burdened with so much enre was unendurable
; and after all no money was saved in
the change of affairs, as a washerwoman
must be hired every week; this ycung Sulan
could not wash it she did agree to at
irat.
After due consideration Mrs. Dunham
lismissed Susan. IJer successor was au
>ish vixen of some forty years. After the
>arjrain was closed, and it was agreed that
L dollar o -I 1-1 ? - '
.. ..v.<_r\ onuuiu uc me recompense
if this rattier antiq'ie specimen of Erin's fair
sle, slio was aided by Mrs. Dunham in the
;itchen. "Dinah was herself." Mrs. Dunlam,
not supposing herself in peril of life
ir limb, commenced giviDg her orders in
ler calm and usual way.
The shrew turned a wild, searching eye
in her mistress, and thus commenced :
"And don,t you think, inorm, that the j
ikes of me that has kept house for me ,
loosband nigh on to these twent}' years can j
rash the dishes and cook the parate with- i
utyour orders? am I the great greenhorn |
iiat wants ye standing over me ? Uch ! and i
this is the way, Dora O'Flynn will soon
?ke a new mistress." j
Disheartened, and without making a re- ,
ly, Mrs. Dunham returned to the sitting- (
>om, perhaps to r^connoiter in her mind j
le propriety of hiring cheap help. j
A week passed, during which time Mrs. ^
Junharn was anything but mistress of her
wn household, Dora assuming the utmost
uthority, and wholly despising the counsel
f Mrs. Dunham.?Finally a colored girl j
ffercd licr services. Slie had the reputaon
of being "light fingered," consequent- ^
' found it difficult to procure work ; but '
i she asked but small remuneration for her
irvices, and was expert in business, Mrs.
>uuham concluded to hire her, determining
> keep all her valuables under lock and
ey, and to watch her will) all the vigilance ^
>e case requirod. The negress Catharine
leased Mrs. D. in every respect; she did
le work admirably, waited on company
iperbly, pulled the wool over Mrs. Dunim's
eyes in a manner to be wondered at, ,
id ere many weeks Mrs. Dunham felt no !
fluctance to trust Catharine with anything !
ie house afforded. Ere many months Mrs. .
*11
unham was seized with an illness which ^
r many long days threatened to terminate ^
tally. Catharine was constantly by her
le. At length Mrs. D.came to look upou
jr with a feeling kindred to affection, so cl
defatigable and 6elf sacrificing did she ap- b
sar to her mistress. Mrs. D. was recov- ai
ing when one morning Catharine was ll
itsing ; access was had to her room, but si
e was not there; suspicion began to a- se
ike in the breast of Mrs. D. as well as d<
at of her husband; 'he drawers, ward- p<
bes, and in fact the entire house was pi
arched, and an exclamation point may fol- in
w 1 some four hundred dollars worth of M
welry, and silver-plate was missing, besides ar
vest amount of valuable clothing.?In- ar
mt measures were taken to find the fugi- h<
e, but it proved a fruitless search. di
Mrs. Dunham immediately despatched a to
xu2acrck JA *
?6- .v .uoigaick, uuBcrcuumg ner to re- ce
n, assuring her she should want for a tb
roe no more while phe lived ; according- th
Margaret, the long tried servant, return- tu
, and Mrs. l>unham was not afterward* th
ard to speak in favor of cheap help. so
^ 1
A modest request.?When the Dube ^
Ormonde was made Lord Lieutenant of
iland, in Queen Anne's reign, one of his
inds applied to him for some preferment, bA
cling that be was willing to accept either g*
>ishopric, or a regiment of horse?or to y0
made Lord Chief Justice of tb? King's BU,
nch. This, however, is surpassed by
>raoe Walpole's anecdote of a humane
ler in Oxfordshire, who made the follow- m
; application to one of his human? prjsire:?"My
good friflnd 1 I have a' little
or to ask of you, wkicb, from your oblig
; disposition, I doubt not yon wiPgrant.
<1 are ordered for execution on Friday da
Ik. ^hare a particular 4gaget?6nt on ]at
it day; if it mik? bo difference to yon, we
vld pit nj?rjd?f intt^df. Ijri,
CHAUNCEY LEWIS, THE 80LDIKR BOY.
A boy tifteen years of age was standing
before tho open door of a Connecticut farmhouse
with a little fowling piece upon his
Bhoulder, while a matronly looking woman
was standing in the doorway and gazing
with moistened eyes upon him.
"Go, my son," she said, "but remember,
when amid tho smoke and heat of the battle,
tlio sentence in the blessed book I have given
you, "the merciful shall obtain mercy."'
"I will not forget it, mother," ho replied,
"'but our company is waiting, and now,
farewell ?"
Ktt " ? - - ' *
cull SI1U K1SSCU mm as
sho spoke?"an<l may lie who has for two
score years watched over the mother, protect
the son !"
A cloud of smoke hu;>g over and enveloped
the blood stained soil of ljunker'b
llill. A noble looking man, in the uniform
of an American general was slowly retreating
with his face to the foe.?The sharp report
of a single rifle was heard, and Warren
fell ! A young soldier almost?a boy
?sprang towards him and lifted his head;
at the same instant a giant grenadier in the
Urilish uniform, came charging at him with
leveled bayonet.
To draw an old rusty horse pistol from
his breast present and fire it, at the approaching
foe, was but the work of a moment.
Thegrenadier fell, wounded, and seizin- * 3
sworu ot Warren which had fallen from his
grasp, the boy soldier ran a' ' raised it over
the red coat to dispatch him.
But why does lie pause when tho 6word
is uplifted, and allow it to fall slowly to his
side, and then turn away and strike not ?
lie remembers tho injunction of that mother,
whom two months ago he left in the
door of the open farm-house, ''Remember,
my son, amid the smoke and heat of battle,
The merciful shall obtain Mercy."'
Tho tide of battle had swept like a whirlwind
over the plains of Trenton. The British
cavalry had ridden with irresistible force
jver a detachment of men and boys, forming
a portion of tho left wing of the Amercan
army, and among the dead and dying,
av a bovish sr?Llior '
^ _ J ...... uuuucu, OUU Willi 1113
right arm broken.
A merciless party of Hessians were rangrigover
the fi-Jd murdering and plundering
hose who had fallen. They approached
lie boy soldier, who dauntlessly awaited the
mpending death, and one of them drawing
lis sword was about to plunge it into the
joy's side, when a gigantic red coated grenidier
rushed between the boy and the mur- i
lerous Ilessian and struck up the weapon, t
"Hold, ruffians! That boy spared my ,
ife at Bunker's Hill. It is now my turn," <
ind raising him in his strong arms, he bore j
lim from the bloodv unil in a
j w iuv/u vi amy
yAh
! how those parting words of his mober
again ran through his brain and made
weet music in his soul. "Remember, my
on, when amid the smoke and heat of batle,
that 'The merciful shall obtain Mercy.'"
It was never forgotten, and when a little
oore than two years ago I stood above the
enerated form, and gazed upon the calm
matures of the aged boy soldier, whose life
ad peacefully gone out like the last flickertig
of a candle which has burned dowu in
:s socket, I thought of those words, and in
nacrinaLion iunilrJ tkn ????? ??? ?r ?
o ui iuu- |
lier and son, at the old farm-house eightyliree
years ago.?N. Y. Waverly. '
Title of Books.?Decoys to catch pur- ]
liasers. There can be no doubt that a t
appy name to a book is like an agreeable 1
ppearance to a man hnf. ?f ? ? *
_ ? .U UOOO |
ie final do Dot answer to the first impres- <
on, will not our disappointment add to the t
iverity of our judgement? "Let me sue- t
3ed with ray first impression," the biblio- j
olist will cry, "and I ask I no raore. The 41
jblic are welcome to end with condemn- a
g, if ?hey will only begin with buying, t
o?t readers, like the tuft-hunters at college, t
e caught by titles" How inconsistent s
e oar notion^- Of morality ! No man of ii
>nor would op?n a latter that was not ad- h
essed to him, though be will not scruple c
''open a book under the same circumatan- n
3. Colton's "Lacon*' has gone through 1
irteen editions, And yet it is addressed M(o g
ese who think." Had the author substi- c
ted for these words, "those who ttrink e
ay are thinking," it might not have bad o
extensive a sale, although it would have ft
ea directed to^a much larger olass. He r<
a shown address in hisaddress. tl
y t
A sneaktatfjdui^ Mldw being in fear of r(
fKffa, wfetiflMdjgtoiif^iriiself. A ?fg re
ve >flv1 A Y 'W4* gl
urtfilf, atift^Jraftpotir Jiead^and I as- jn
re you rroWdy w&r*?afyoci who you ace.' f?
The foHqVin j <Ho^reptttle pay be seen
. tbeWiodow. of i Lojjdofl ;poffee-sbop: n<
old* Jfeoni'thia window a China ouptand ^
ia*r f$b* set being jbow incomplete, the H
ef may Jiatfa ft^niiiinder a bargain.* ^
. ;., p0ft ?. . ... n?
An Irisb potboy, having driven Sherin
a long tftagedurfhg torrents of rain,the
tar said to bfro, 'Pat, art ^
tf?'No, plase yoar honor, I'm Teiryfliy,' ;
* tbe areh answer. of
pw&'i * * *'%tu "rl '
"WHY THIS INTEN8E DESIBE FOE WEALTH!
"The reply is, it results from the indiscriminate
respect paid to wealth.
"To be distinguished from the common
herd?to be somebody?to make a name,
a position?this is the universal ambition ;
?md every one finds tlmt to accumulate
riches, is alike the surest and the easii-st
way of fulfilling his ambition. Very early
in life all earn this. At school, the court
]>aid io one whose parents have culled in
their cerricye to see him, is conspicuous ;
while the poor boy, whose insufficient stock
of clothes implies the small means of his
family, soon has burnt into his memory
the fact that poverty in contemptible. On
entering the world, the lessons that may
I have been taught about the nobility of selfsacrifice,
the reverence due to genius, the
admirableness of high integrity, are quickly
neutralized by counter experi^ce: men's
actions proving tlint these are not their
standards of respect. It is soon perceivedJ
thai, while abundant outward marks of de- j
ferenee from fellow-citizens may almost
certainly be gained by directing every energy
to tho accumulation of property, they
are but rarely to be gained in any other
way ; and that even in the few cases where
they are otherwise gained, they are not
given with entire unreserve, but aro commonly
joined with a more or less manifest
display of patronage. When, seeinrr ?!>; >
. 3
the young tnnn further sees that while the
acquisition of property is quite possible
with his medicore endowments, tho acquirement
of distinction by brilliant discoveries,
or heroic nets, implies faculties
and feelings which lie does not possess
; it is not difficult to understand
why lie devotes himself heart and soul to
business.
"We do not mean to say that men act
npon tho consciously reasoned-out conclusions
thus indicated ; but we mean that
these conclusions are the unconsciously
formed products of their daily experience.
Fiom early chid hood the sayings and doings
of all around them have generated the
idea that wealth and respectability are two
sides of the snmo thing. This idea, growing
with their growth, and strengthening
with their strength, becomes at last almost
what we may call an organic conviction.
A_J iL
aiiu iuia organic conviction it is which
prompts the expenditure of ail their energies
in money-making. We contend that the
chief stimulus is not the desire for the
wea'ih itself; but for the applause and position
which the wealth brings. And in
this belief we find ourselves thoroughly at (
one with various intelligent traders with ,
whom we have talked on the matter. It is ,
incredible that the men should make the ,
sacrifices, mental and bodily, which they do, |
merely to get the material benefits of moD- |
The Turk and the Russian.?One of
the most amusing of our acqunitances was (
he gentleman with whom I had the honor \
jf sleeping on the billiard-table. lie was .
i long, sallow Pole, observunt and satirical, |
ind full of ludicrous stories of his Turkish ?
jo-religionists. How far these tales were |
iterally true, whether he ever allowed one to j
fall flat through a servile adherence to mat* t
Ler-of-fact?I do not undertake to say ; but, |
'.rue or false, his stories were given with a (
knowledge and mimicry of Turkish man- f
iers that made them delightful to hear. ,
\t the risk of its falling flat second band, ?
[ cannot resist telling one. A Turkish and f
i Russian efBcer, on some occasion of truce,
lad scratched up an acquaintance. r
hey sat together, the conversation turned ^
>n the comparative perfection of discipline ,
ind obedience to which their respective r
roops bad been brought. To give a spec- j,
men, the Russian calls in bis orderly, t
lIvan" says he, "you will go to such-and- ?
uch a tobaconist; you will buy au oak of v
obacco; pay for it, and brirg it straight j
lorae." Ivan salutes and goes. The Rus- ^
ian pulls out bis watch. "Now Ivan is go- u
ng to the tobaconist; now he is there ; now n
e is paying for the tobacco ; now he is j,
oraing home; now he is on the stairs; p
ow he is here?Ivan 1" Ivan comes in, pa- f,
utee, and hands over tbo tobacco. "Pek
;uzel," says the fat Turk, with a condes- {,{
ending bow, benignly, half shutting his t|
pes the while; "very nice indeed; but my ^
ruerly will do as much?Mustafa." 4,Efjndim
1" says Mustafa, bursting into the
jom and touching his chin and forehead in ?'
ie curious double-action salute of the
urkisb solditir. He receires the fame di- th
motions, word for wor^f nod departs. His afc
tester hauls out a gigftofc turpip of a watch
10b as Turks daligbt in,.nod. proceeds, in W|
aitatiort of }be Russian, to tick off Musta- |{,
'b supposed performing. "Now 1m is m
>ing; now be ia there; now he is atying;
- *
?w up ii uumidg ?ome; now hi . b?f?-?
ufOafal" "EffeDdim!" repliaa,.Jtfu*Ufft,
fain bunting in. tt Whara's tbo tobaoo^P of
frpouobUr boulmadim?Ibava't fodod
y ?hoe& yetl" V ^
Men, like books, bate^taaebeod'a blank foe
kf?-childhood and old1 i(pfc ?.! > ^ ' *
Grtfw* ar? bat tb^fidota of the fooUttt* rb
.i'Ui': 'nr.:o i.e.
%
i u, ^VJ. 11.
j THE Z0UAVE8 AND THE TVRCOS.
Tlie newspaper correspondents from Italy,
and Paris story tellers gives us all sorts
of reports and anecdotes about the Zouaves,
the Tnrcos, and other new species of troops
now in Italy. The Zouaves at P.ilestro,
they tell us, got their bagg-d trouser legs
so wet, and therefore so heavy, in crossing
| 6ome low lands, that when ordered to the
j charge, they cast off their trousers and ran
I 10 tlie Austrians, bayonet in hand, bare
legged! Tlic corps lias been so wil?J, it is
also added, r>nd so little regardful of mcum
and tci/m, that t.be Emperor summoned a
certain numbt r of them, and told tbem be
would order tbem back to Africa and to
Franco, if anything of ll>? like occurred
I again; whereupon, it is said, tbey cried
like children, and promised goc-d behavior.
The Turcos are a new race of men on
the European field of bullle, or at least, not
there seen or known since the days of Hannibal,
who led tlieir ancestors into Italy.?
They are Mohammedans under French officers,
and sub-officers, natives of Africa, about
Algiers. We have to-day the first account
from on the field of battle, in the correspondence
of the Con-^titutionnel, from
Fovara. Juno 4th. Mr.Malifin's division is
made up of these troop3, and others from
Africa, The corre--onn1t..n? ? 1
| ...w..u imu jum iiearu
of this division at Magenta, where they attacked
the Austrian* protected l>y their cannon.
"Like tigers" (t?ays the writer) they
precipitated themselves upon the Austrians,
crying "victory," even l.efore they had;."dis
charged their guns. The attack is said to
have exhibited one of the strangest and
most terrible spectacles of war. The Turcos
threw themselves upon the enemy like
the savages of Cooper, without mercy or
quarter. Soon a horrible melee occurred.
The voice of the canuon even was drowned
by the savage cries of tbeTurcos?cries not
the chauntof victory, nor the plaints of the
dying and wounded. All the language of
Mahomet can muster of impercations broke
forth from them in isolated groups, where
onoTurco would often be seen struggling
against three or four Austrians. When the
Austrians ran, and the strife was over, the
npectacle was not less strange. The fanatic
conquerors rolled upon the earth, and under
the inspiration of some African war
song, they danced the most frantic species
j
ui uunces, amn:st burslR of laughter, and
frightful cries, that started even their companions
in arms. Some of them ha'! forced
their prisoners to sit beside them, and
upon these poor prisoners at first they glared,
as the lion glares upon il^ prey ; and
ihen, with a species of fascination, as is they
pitied the poor creatures now without means
of defence. In other part*? of ibc fold they
lay down upon the ground, exhausted wit.h
fatigue, and recovering their strength in
deep.
A Ci.assic Memory.?The courage, tenlerness,
or superstitions of the ancients have
nvested almost every period of time with
issociations which awaken within our own
josom responsive echoes of admiration,
lympatby, or pity. The early Romans beieved
themselves to be haunted and digressed
by the souls of the dead, which retimed
in darkness to the scenes of their
iving joys and sorrows. They were caJl>d
lemures, lamia?ghosts, spectres ; and
i ceremony, called lemuria, lemuralia, or
eviuria, was on the nights of the Otb, 12th,
ind 13th. of May, in order to persuade or
brce them to retire to the place of shades.
About midnight the bead of the families
ose without noise, and went with bare feet
o a fountnin, snapping his fingers the ,
vhile as a protection from his disembodied 4
yersecutors. He washed his hands as si
ently as possible, and, returning, took some *
*eans in his mouth. These were black, in *
illusion to tlie time selected for ghostly $
isitation. Without looking around the
Paterfamilias thjfow these nine times over
lis head, repeating each time the words, %
These I send ; with these beans I redeem
le and mine." A second time be washe*
is bands, and while striking a hollow coper
vessel cried nine times in a voice of
umble supplication, "Ye souls of my anjstors
depart." He then looked about
im and retired; after which, aa it was
lought, the Bpirit gathered the bean* and
urried them carefully away. *
A Yankee who had seen Powers' Greek
lave, and who was asked if be was not in )
pttire* with it, replied?'Well, to tellyou
? truth, I don't care much about tbem 1
one gala.*
The saying in answer to a stranger, who
as observing how tall his trees grew, 'that
ey bad fcotbing else to do 1' was a quaint ?
ratiire of wit and humor. r |
Weraan i* justly called 'one of the most
orious works of heavenand she is a sort
work that we Jilie to address ouiselree to.
Few things are more agreeable to sel?!ove
so revenge, and yet no other causo so cf- 1
stually restrain* from revenge as self-love.
"star of Oh? son!, -as
^.b terfao, and the two are seiwr aIfc'w.-wvT:.
:
. * - / |