Newspaper Page Text
lewis m. grist, proprietor. ! ^n Inbeprnbenf Tamils Itetospaper: ?ot tj}t Iramfltion af f(jt $)alttital, Saeial, ^grirnltnral anil Commercial Interests af t|e Sanfjj. |TERMS--$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
VOL. 27. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 19, 1881. NO. 20. ^elected l?0ftni. % _ ^ THE HURIAL OF MOSES. By Nebo's lonely mountains, On this side of Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, J'here lies a lonely grave; And no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er; For the angel of God upturned the sod And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral , That ever passed on earth ; But no man heard the tramping, Or saw the train go forth. Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek * Grows into the great sun. Noiselessly as the spring-time Her crown of verdure weaves, " And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves? So without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept, Sijently down from the mountain's crown The great procession swept. Perhaps the bald old eagle On gray Beth-peor's height, Out from his rocky eyrie Looked on the wondrous sight; Perchance the lion, stalking, Still shuns the hallowed spot, For beasts and birds have seen and heard That which man knoweth not. But when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muflled drum, Follow the funeral ear; They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won. And after him lead his inasterless steed, While peals the minute gun. Amid the noblest of the land Men lay the sage to rest. And give the bard an honored place, With costly marble drest, In the great minster-transept, Where lights like glory fall, And the choir sings and the organ rings Along the emblazoned wall. This was the bravest warrior That ever buckled sword! This the most gifted poet t That ever breathed word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truth half so sage As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honor ? The hillside for his pall. To lie instate, while angels wait, With stars for tapers tall, And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes, O'er his bier to wave, . And God's own hand, in that lonely land To lay him in the grave! In that deep grave, without a name, When his uncofhned clay Shall break again (most wondrous thought!) Before the judgment day, And stand with glory wrapped around On the hills he never trod, And speak of the strife that won our life With the Incarnate Son of God ! 0, lonely tomb in Moab's land ! O, dark Beth-peor hill! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath His mysteries of graceWays that we cannot tell, He hides them deep, in the secret sleep Of him He loved so well. ihc ^targ ?dlcr. , > THE JOURNEYMAN GENTLEMAN. Joe Conway was an oddity. He especially delighted in mysteries disguises, unexpected denouements, intrigue, and romance generally. Consequently he was always getting into very bad scrapes, and?superfluous assertion?there was always a "lady in the case." This made him a bit of a miaogamist?an amateur woman-hater. Yet for all he could not let the sex alone ! A profouud love of nature and dissipation attracted Joe and myself to the little village of D , on the banks of that charming little stream, Erehwon. We went to fish, to sketch, to see sceuery, and to drink; for, as Joe remarked, "the waters of the Erehwon possessed peculiarly refreshing qualities, when mixed with a little cognac." The afternoon of the second day of our sojourn found us seated upon a flower-spangltd slope, skirted by willows, whose gnarled roots were bathed in the pellucid Erehwon. We had sought the spot to smoke, converse, and digest our somewhat elaborate dinner in peace and quiet, with the beauty of nature before our eyes. nz is Terj npL tu ue ine wueu twu , young men get together, our talk was of woman. Woman ! What an inexhaustible subject for speculation, conversation, writing, oratory, painting, sculpture, and matrimony ! "It's all gammon," said Joe Conway ; "woman don't appreciate cultivation, intellect, nor good fellowship. All they look for is wealth and position when they love. If they don't find those amiable qualities they won't love, and if a fellow hasn't got them he had better let the sex alone. It takes a gilded key to unlock their precious little hearts. That's so !" "You are sadly mistaken, Joe," said I, "and the worst of it is, you don't know it. You are angry with the husband-hunters, who have given you a chase, and revenge yourself by damaging the whole institution of dimity. You are wrong. A man like you, youug, rich, and?well, yes without flattering, I think I may say tolerably good looking, has no chance. You see only the designing ones, who are bound to marry your bank-account in spite of yourself, and they play off; their charms upon you ad nauseum." "But where are the artless oues, who don't i want money ; who are willing to sacrifice themselves, and all that, for the sake of the tender passion ?" "They are modest. The brazen-faced fortune-hunters crowd about you, and accustom you to being sought. The really good girls require seeking, and as that isn't in your Hue, you never know how many nice women there are in the world." "I'U tell you what I'll do," cried Joe, start- ; ing up suddenly, and half choking himself with a mouthful of cigar smoke; "I'll test' that question. I'lJ do it here in this very place. I'll turn mechanic, ignore ray money and my family, make up to the prettiest, proudest girl in the village, and show you she won't marry me poor. Then I will come out in my true colors and show you what my cash acquirements can do !" "What; marry her?" "Not much. Make her ask me to, and tlion luiinrh rtt llPT " I confess I secretly hoped that Joe would . . not test the question. He was a capital fellow, as rich in accomplishments and cultivation as in money. I knew very well that I) contained some very charming girls? daughters of retired sea-captains, merchants, etc.?who, however much they might like a mechanic, would not see him. Au contrairie, a young gentleman of wealth and position would probably prove very acceptable. But he was determined, and when I left for the city I left Joe arranging a chest of tools, and getting himself up a pair of blue overalls and a paper cap! Joe had a wonderful talent for doing everything tolerably well. He played on half a dozen instruments, could survey, had dabbled in the fine arts, nderstood short hand, a .little surgery and medicine, was a finished jockey, a fair gardener, had built a fair bridge, had written an epic, and half soled a pair of hoots. With these somewhat varied accomplishments he had 110 fears, of course, but that he ! could get on very well at D , and when ; he introduced himself to the "boss" carpentei of the village he succeeded in persuading him ' that he was a journeyman of unusual taleut He received several commissions during the first fortnight of his experiments; but on j the whole it was rather lucky that he was not compelled to subsist on the proceeds of his labors, or otherwise he mighj have found it j difficult to pay his board?especially as he | commissioned me to send him some five dollars' worth of cigars every week. One day after he had nearly exhausted his patience, and had done no end of plotting and planning in vain, the village carpenter , asked him to undertake the restoration of a cornice on one of the oldest and most aristocratic houses in D . Joe agreed, and in a short time was mounted on a scaffold almost on a level with the third story windows of the mansion of old Commodore Hulkinpton. dexterously making i his measurements and plans for a new cornice. It was no easy task, for the work was elaborate and the weather warm. Two days elapsed, and Joe had only got ready to comi mence putting up the brackets which sustained the heavy mouldings. Lunch time came, ; and the amateur carpenter, getting in the J shade, unpacked his little dinner pail, and i began a repast at once simple and nourish| ing, when he savr the window nearest him was open, and that papers lying on an escritoire inside were disposed to blow away. "I know it's a tresspass," meditated he, "but it's for the proprietor's good. I'll step into the room and save, perhaps, some valuable documents." A little gymnastic exercise brought him down from the scaffold, through the window, and into a very elegant chamber. "Hum," said he "a woman's room." There were paintings, statues, ormolu ornaments, and forty other luxuriant nothings, such as women of taste love to gather around ; them. A guitar reposed on the bed, with I some books in French and Latin. The couch itself bore the impress of a form, as if the tutelar deity of the chamber had been lying down and passing her time with music and literature. There was a portfolio open upon j the table, with a pretty water-color sketch, half finished ; a well stocked library in the corner bore evidence of the cultivated taste of the occupant, and everything about the chamber, from the bed with its shower of snowy curtains falling from a massive gilt ring to the canary bird in the window, beolrrt n mfinQmnnt onr] itf tllA OPPIl C|;wau (* x vuiiviuvu i> utiu uviivmvj w* ?*?v vw? pant of the apartment, seldom found, except in young and beaul.iful women, who aspire to have their surroundings like themselves. "Something elegant about this," said Joe, gathering up the scattered papers, and placing them beneath a paper weight on the escritoire. "I,' must investigate this. Here's an opening for a splendid bit of romance?poor "young*carpenter and rich lovely young woman, eh ? Lord bless me, there has been bushels of novels written on the same plot." After a hurried examination of the room, he regained his scaffold, and consuming his lunch, set once more about his labors, a little more hopeful than before. Thus passed a week. Joe got in a very impudent habit of entering the chamber almost daily in the hopes of meeting the occupant of so charming a temple. He became familiar with all the books and music, whistled the canary into a convulsion of song and drove himself half crazy with the speculation upon the fair unknown. He had heard her sing very sweetly of a morning when she opened the window, and just caught a glimpse of her form ; but she, seeing him, had withdrawn suddenly, and he had not been able to discover whether she was as beautiful as a rose or ugly as a camel. He had found a half-finished sonnet on the table, and several long, fine, brown hairs, apparently plucked out in a fit of abstracted meditation. He had found gaiters of delicate colors and wonderful smalluess; gloves of corresponding delicacy; and tasteful and artistic dresses and sacques. What will you say, oh, my matter-offact and practical reader, when I tell you that my friend Joe Conway fell in love with a woman he had not seen?one of whom he knew next to nothing? Quite naturally the erection of the corniceprogressed but slowly. The master-carpenter wondered at it; but Joe assured him every morning that it would only take a day or two longer. r\ . f -r . r 1 _ _ ii. ? uue nne anernoon joe iouna, tying on me escritoire, aD essay on music, written in the same beautiful bund which he had so often seen and admired on the margin of books aud papers in the chamber. Grown impertinent to an alarming degree, he laid down the saw which he had unconsciously brought with him, aud perused the essay carefully. It was well written and powerful, but there was an error in the philosophy. It would be dull for me to% explain here the mistake which Joe saw at ouce It is enough that the fair writer had confused the laws which govern melody and harmony, and Joe devoutly wished an opportunity to point out the error to her who had made it. He was just meditating an epistle to be left with the essay, when the door opened, and his dtesse inconnue entered ! Figure to yourself a young girl?say of uiueteeu or twenty?whose every line and contour spoke of grace and health ; whose peach-tinted cheeks, bright eye9, and lips like the inner fold of some tropic shell, told of vivacity, freshness, and purity. Her hair was of the peculiar pale brown?almost a wood color?which may perhaps be best described as a mingling of ashy and golden tints, and fell in tangled masses?half ringlets, half disorder?on each side of a neck white and delicate as the petals of the camclia. She did not scre?m wheu she saw the carpenter sitting coolly in her arm chair, making himself objectionably at home. She only opened her Wrge gray eyes, hesitated a rao mem, auu sam . "Well, sir!" with an accent between surprise and disdain. Joe rose and bowed politely. "What do you wish, sir ?" Joe was somewhat put to his trumps. "I wished to see what kind of a fairy inhabited so delightful a domain." Truly a nice speech for a journeyman carpenter to make to Commodore Hulkington's only daughter. "Possibly, you are not aware that you are intruding, sir. You will oblige me by departing." "Certainly," saiid Joe, now in full enjoyment of the romance of the thing, "certainly j I will go; but you must pardon me one | thing?I wish to explain a little question on which you have doubts. Harmony in music appeals to the intellectual or reasoning portion of the soul?melody to the passions and feelings." The young girl looked a little alarmed, and drew back a step or two. "No !" said he. divining her thoughts, "I am not insane. In your essay on music, you say that "education refines and intensifies our perceptions of melody." You should have said "harmony,'' for that rules the brain, which organ is susceptible to the influence of education. Melody is lord of the heart alone, and you, mademoiselle, ought to be well aware that the heart cannot be taught either : in music or love." Miss Hulkington was astonished. I "Sir," said she, "I do not know what tc i make of your conduct. You are imprudent and very?very?" i "Audacious! Yes, I acknowledge that,1 . interrupted Joe; "but you must pardon me ; I first entered your room to place some pa i pers in safety which the wind was about t< ; blow out of the window. Once inside, tin i air of elegance and refinement exhibitet ; here attracted me. Doubtless you have no i ticed that one's surroundings become permea ted, as it were, with something of one'i sphere ; as in your room, I experienced ai i emotion of pleasure?a consciousness of th< presence of some invisible but charming spir it, and I made bold to enter often, believing that, if you knew my motives, you woulc forgive me." The young lady wa3 beginning to fee pleased. All women like admiration, ever from their (so called) inferiors, if it is deli cately expressed. The conversation proceeded. Joe proved to the fair essayist that she was in error, anc astonished her by the depths of his thoughts the variety of his knowledge, and the ele gance of his diction. On leaving, he held out his hand?alinosi as soft and white as her own?and she, stifling the last traces of a false prejudice, gave it a cordial pressure. "You have not worked long at your trade, she said. "Since my boyhood," unblushingly answered Joe ; "but," added he, glancing at his hands, "I have generally done the nicer kinds of work?joinery and the like." This excuse passed very well with a woman who had never had the honor of the acquaintance of a mechanic before. The next day, when Joe heard the window open, he presented himself, and after exchanging salutations, the twain again fell into a discussion, which became so earnest that Joe was compelled once more to enter the room. Alas, for the progression of the new cornice ! For two weeks this state of things continued. At the expiration of that time, Louisa Hulkington was compelled, maugre her pride, to acknowledge to herself that she loved Joe Conway, the journeyman carpenter. He would not believe it. It contradicted his theory of the mercenary character of woman. And, I notice, we never believe anything that contradicts our theories. Finally, when the cornice had to be finish ed, Louisa petitioned her father to have an ornamental wardrobe put up in her chamber. Of course Joe had the task, although the old Commodore grumbled terribly about employing such a slow workman. It took Joe six weeks to make the wardrobe ! By the time the job was done?very nicely done it was too?Joe's theory was quite done up, and the sweet Louisa Hulkington had promised to be his bride, in spite of her father?in spite of the notions of the world. Sensible girl! There was only one thing left for Joe to do?to reveal to her his true position, which I was happy to corroborate. Three months afterwards I said good bye, to a newly-wedded pair, just starting to Europe on a honeymoon trip. As I held the tiny white-gloved hand of the bride^nd saw her charming face beneath the gossomar-tissued veil depending from her "love of a bonnet," I said to tbe proud and happy bridegroom: "Well, Joe, if you remember our conversation on the banks of the Erehwou last Summer, you can tell me what you think now of the sentiments you then eVpressed." "My dear George," said the Journeyman Gentleman, "there are exceptions to all rules." ?m Substitutes for Kissing.?Some rude races have strange substitues for kissing. Of a Mongol father, a traveler writes, "he smelled from time to time tbe head of his youngest son, a mark of paternal tenderness usual among the Mongols instead of embracing." In the Philipine islands, we are told, "the sense of smell is developed to so great a degree that they are able, by smelling at the pocket handkerchiefs, to tell to which persons they belong; and lovers, at parting exchange pieces of linen they may be wearing, and during their separation inhale the odor of the beloved being." Among the Citagong hill people, again, it is is said, "the manner of kissing is peculiar. Instead of pressing lip to lip, they place the nose and mouth j upon the cheek and inhale the breath strongj ly." Their form of speech is not "Give me a kiss," but "Smell me." In the same way, i according to another traveler, "the Burmese do not kiss each other in the Western fashion, but apply the lips and nose to the cheek and make a strong inhalation." Moreover, "the I Samoaus salute by juxtaposition of noses ! accompanied not by a rub but a hearty | smell." There is Scriptural precedent for | such customs. When blind Isaac wus in ; doubt whether the son that came to bin) was : Jacob or not, "he smelled the smell of his raiment and blessed him." Ax Ex-Governor on the Maine Liquor Law.?Ex Governor Lot M. Morrill, of Maine, passed through Charlotte, N. C., recently, on his way South for the sake of his health. While in that city, says the Observer, he was asked in reference to the prohibition law in Maine. He said that since the passage j of this law, the condition of the people had j immeasurably improved, mentally socially and physically. Crime had diminished ; intem, perance had diminished, aud pauperi?m | was a thing unknown. Somebody had writ| ten something about an increase in lunacy in ; Maine on this account. Whoever it was, he said, musthea lunatic. Nosane man whoknew anything about it would write such stuff. He j had several times had occasion to traverse the | State while on canvassing tours, and to see a ; drunken man was a rare occurrence. Some would have liquor and drink it, but they were comparatively few, and these scarcely ever : drank to excess. He gave it as his experience that the law was in every way a benefi cial one, and contributed greatly to the happiness and improvement of the people. He only stayed several hours in the city, arriving in the morning and leaving on the afternoon train. A number of gentlemen called upon hiin before he left. The Mustang of Australia.?The mus4ang of the American Continent has its counterpart iD the "brumbie" of Australia, large herds of which exist in the interior parts of Queensland and New South Wales. These animals are so numerous that they have often been destroyed and boiled down for the sake of their tallow and hides ; and in some of the newly settled districts they swarm in such numbers that the squatters have to protect themselves and the pasturage against their inroads. Brumbie stalk ing is a recognized pastime, the destruction of wild horses being as necessary as the de struction of kangaroos or rabbits. Thesporl of capturing and taming these animals, how ever, has attracted a good many adventurous spirits, who adopt tactics somewhat similar tc i those adopted by the inhabitants "of Mexicc land South America. The hardiness anc ' i strength and size of these brumbies are re ! markable. and when trained they are of con siderable value. Their progeny, when cross I ed with European horses, possess excelleni qualities. It is recorded that in one year m less than 7,000 wild horses have been shot or i a single station in New South Wales. ; ||iisccUauc0U5 fleatlittg. FORWARD UNDER FIRE. 3 ' THE ATTACK ON MARYE's HEIGHTS AT FRED . ; ERICK8BURG. J I A brilliant description of the battle ol . j Fredericksburg, prepared by Maj.-Gen. St j Clair A. Mulholland, appears in the Phila3: delphia Times. Gen. Mulholland, touchej i upon the fine condition of the army of the 3 Potomac, relates the circumstances undei . which Gen. Burnside took command, tells of r the opening of the battle and of Meade's ad\ vance, and describes vividly the terrible onI el o n and ronillco At. Matva'a TTeicrht.il. Thp 1 | following extract from an article is a descripj ; tion of the thrilling scenes enacted in front of .! the famouB stonewalls : While Meade was moving on Hamilton's [ ; the troops in the city were prepared to strike. | Under arms, listening to the sounds of the fight on the left and waiting patiently for . their turn to share in the strife, Gen. Thomas Francis Meagher, mounted and surrounded I; by his staff; addressed each regiment of his . (the Irish) brigade, and^in burning, eloquent . words besought the men to uphold in the coming struggle the military prestige and ' glory of their native laud. Then green boxwood was culled from a garden near and . Meagher placed a sprig in his Irish cap. , Every officer and man followed his example , and soon great bunches of the fragrant shrub adorned the caps of every one. Wreathes were made and hung upon the tattered flags , and the national color of the Emerald Isle blended in fair harmony with the red, white and blue of the Republic. At noon, Meade . not yet haviug reached Hamilton's, Gen. Couch ordered French and Hancock to the , assault. French moved first, closely followed by the superb. As we wheeled into the streets leading towards the enemy we were in full view of the frowning heights and TIIE MARCH OF DEATH BEGAN. Nearly a mile away arose the position that we were expected to carry, and though not yet clear of the city we felt the pressure of the foe, the fire of whose batteries concentrated to crush the heads of our column as they debouched upon the plain. Solid shot, fired with light charges, richocbet on the frozen ground, caromed on the pavement and went tearing through the ranks, traversing the eutire length of the streets, bounding over the river to be buried in the opposite bluff. Shells began dropping with destructive effect. One striking in the Eighty-eighth New York placed eighteen men hors du combat. I will ever remember the first one that burst in my regiment, wounding the colonel, cutting off the head of Sergeant Marley and killing two or three others. I was struck by the iustantaneousness of the deaths. The column had i halted for a moment, a sharp report, a puff of smoke and three or four men lay stark dead, their faces calm, their eyes mild and life like, lips unmoved, no sign of pain or indication of suffering. Marley had not fallen, but dropped upon his knees, his musket clasped in both hands and resting upon the ground. After getting into the open and crossing a mill-race a rise in the ground hid us from the enemy, giving an opportunity to dress the ranks and prepare the column of attack, which was by brigade front, Gen. Kimball's brigade in the lead, followed by those of Col. J. W. Andrews and of Col., Palmer. Hancock's division came next, with the brigade of Zook, Meager and Caldwell in the order named. Here the thought struck me : "How different is the real battle from that which our imagination had pictured. After the reading of our boyhood, with heads filled with Napoleon and his marshals, and harrowing tales of gory fields of yore, with what realistic feeling we ? mi n _ _ _ _ i? * l - ^i. .?i. cau see me vvnu coniusion ui me hiunu-bwc^i field?charging cavalry, hurrying artillery, , the riderless steeds madly rushing to and fro, their shrill neighing mingling with the groans, screams and shrieks of the wounded." Here there is no disorder. The men calm, silent, cheerful. The commands of the officers, given in a quiet, subdued voice, are distinctly heard and calmly obeyed. The regiments manoeuvred without a flaw. In this trying moment the guides are ordered out and the alignment made as perfect as on dress parade. The destruction of human beings is done with order and system. Yet it is terrible enough; the very absence of confusion and excitement but adds to the dreadful intensity of the horror. As for the screams and shrieks, I have never heard anything of that kind, either on the field or in the hospitals. It may be that the soldiers of other nations indulge in cries and yells ; our men took their punishment without a complaint or a murmur. Just before moving from this spot one of my young officers, a brave boy from Chester county, Pennsylvania, Lieut. Seneca G. Willauer, was badly torn by a shell, which stripped the flesh from his thigh and left the bone for four or five inches white and hare. He came to me, and holding up the bleeding limb for inspection, said, with the most gentle manner and placid voice: "Colonel,do you think that I should go on with my company or go to the hospital ?" No doubt had I told him to go on he would have done so. Then the advance is sounded. The orders of the regimental commanders ring out clear on the cold December. "Right shoulder, shift arms," "battalion forward, guide centre, march 1" The long line of bayonets glitter in the bright sunlight. We have no friendly fog, as Meade had, td hide us from our foes, and as we advance up the slope we come in full view of the Army of Northern Virginia. All their batteries open upon us. We can trace their line by the fringe of blue smoke that quickly appears along the base of the hills, and we see that we are marching into an arc of nre. Ana ! what a receptioL awaits us! Fire in our front, | from our right and our left. Shells come at us direct and oblique and drop down from | above ; shells enfilade our liues, burst among ( us in front, in rear, above and behind us. , Shells everywhere ; a torrent of shells ; a blizzard of shot, shell and fire. The lines pass on steadily. The gaps made in the ranks | are quickly closed. The colors often kiss the , | ground, but are quickly snatched from dead 11 hands and held aloft again by others who I soon in their turn will bite the dust. The ! regimental commanders march out far in adi vance of their commands and they, too, fall ' rapidly, but others run to take their places. ' Still in good order, we push forward until ( five hundred yards of the long half mile that lay between us and Marye's Heights is passed, ! then the sharp whiz of the miuuie joins the j loud scream of the oblong bolts. Hancock's gallant advance, i Soon we fotget the presence of the shells t in the shower of smaller missiles that assails ' us. .The hills rain fire and the men advance i | with heads bowed as when walking against a j hailstorm. Still through the deadly shower : the ever-thinning lines press on. The plain t ! over which we have passed js thickly spotted ! with the men of the Second Corps, dead, in t twos and threes and in groups. Regiments and companies have now their third or fourth 3; commander, and the colors are borne to the > front by the third or fourth gallant soul who ) has raised them. The gaps in the line have 1 become so large and so numerous that we -1 have to make continued efforts to close them, -1 and the command "Guide centre" is frequent-1 ly heard. French uears the entrenchments t of the Confederates' first line, and the enemy ) redouble their efforts. The struggle is hopei less. His lines wave like corn in a hurricane, recoils, then breaks and the shattered mass falls back amid the shouts aod cheers of > Cobb's and Kershaw's brigades, that line the trenches in our front. Now Hancock, with the division that never lost a gun or a color, sweeps forward, and being joined by many of " the gallant men of French's command makes the most heroic effort of the day. Passing f the furthest point reached by the preced. ing troops he impetuously rushes on, passes the brick house so conspicuous on the field? i on, on until his flags waved within twenty! five paces of the fatal stone wall. Then with ' a murderous fire everywhere around us we realized the full absurdity of the attempt to accomplish an utter impossibility. We had not yet fired a shot. We had only reached i the spot where our work was to begiu. Forty per cent, of the force had already "fallen. No support within three-quarters of a mile. In our front, line after line of works followed i each other up the terraced heights to the very crest, which was covered with artillery. To carry the assault further would be extreme madness. Should we take and occupy the first line, it would simply be to meet the fire of the second and third. To fight the host in front was not possible. We were here only to be shot down without being able to return the blow. So the division, or rather the half of it that still existed, begau falling ' back ; but Hancock would not be driven from the field, and halting where the formation of the ground afforded some shelter to his hard-tried command, he remained until relieved at nightfall. And now the long, long dreadful afternoon that awaited the thousands wounded, who lay scattered over the sad and ghastly plain. The only place of cover was the brick house near the stone wall. To this hundreds of the wounded dragged themselves, and a great mass of sufferers huddled together and struggled to get nearer the house, that they might escape the fire. All around the great heaps of dead bore testimony to the fierceness of the combat. Near by a color-sergeant lay stark and cold with the flag of his regiment covering him. Just in front of the stone wall lay a line of men of the Irish Brigade, with the green boxwood in their caps. It was not yet 1 o'clock when the assaulting column retired and we had nearly five hours to wait for darkness. We heard the clock in the Episcopal Church in the city strike the hours that seemed so long. The sharpshooters of the enemy soon got a position from which they could enfilade the house, and when any one moved among the mass of bleeding men it waB the signal for the rifle balls to whistle around. Few of us expected to live until night, and but few did: Keeping very quiet, hugging the ground closely, we talked together in low ^ t>L- i t i j loues. iuh uuiieuj &epL wiiibiiiug biiu uiupping, and every few moments some one would cease talking never to speak again. How quietly they passed away from the crimson field to eternity, their last gaze on their waving flag, the last sound to reach their ears the volleys of musketry and their comrades'cheers. THE BLOOD OF ALL NATIONS. What a cosmopolitan crowd these dead and wounded were?Americans from the Atlantic coast and the Pacific States, from the prairies, from the great valleys of the Mississippi and the Ohio; Irishmen from the banks of the Shanuon and Germans from the Rhine and the blue Danube; Frenchmen from the Seine and Italians from the classic Tiber, mingled their blood and went down in death together that our cause and the Union might live. Every little while we could see other columns emerge from the city, deploy uppo the plain, march forward, but never get so far as the brick house. The appearance of these troops would draw the fire of the batteries on the hills above us and hundreds of deadly projectiles would go screaming over us and we could see them bursting in the midst of our friends. Evening came at last; the sun went down behind the terrible heights and we anxiously watched the shadows lengthen and steal across the field of blood, creeping slowly over the plain through the nouses ox the city in the shade, then up the church tower until the only object that reflects the rays was the cross of burnished gold, which sparkled a moment against the purple sky and then twilight was upon us and deepened until it was difficult to discern objects. We thought the battle ended, when through the darkuess loomed up the division of Hooker. Nobly they came to the work, with empty muskets and orders to carry the position with the bayonet. The dark mass passed the brick house and almost to the point that Hancock had reached. They had come up through the gloaming unseen, and surged against the base of Mayre's Heights. Again the hills flashed fire, shook, rocked, roared and belched forth more tons of iron on the red plain, more minutes of useless carnage. The sombre wave rolled back, the last and most absurd attempt of the disastrous day had come to naught, and seventeen hundred more had been added to the ponderous list of casualties. Clouds overshadowed the skies, and, guided by the lurid fires still smouldering through the ebony darkness, the immense crowd of wounded began crawling, struggling, dragging themselves towards the city, those who were slightly hurt assisting others who were more seriously injured; those with shattered limbs using muskets for crutches, many faintiug and falling by the way. And, when in the town, how hard to fiud a spot to rest or a surgeon to bind up the wound. More wounded than the city had inhabitants, every public hall and house filled to overflow, the porches of the residences covered with bleeediug men, the sOrgeons are busy everywhere. In the lecture room of the Episcopal Church eight operating tables are in full blast, the floor is densely packed with men whose limbs are crushed, fractured and torn. Lying there, in pools of blood, they wait so very patiently, almost cheerfully their turn to be treated; there is no grumbling no screaming, hardly a moan; many of the badly hurt smile and chat, and one who has both legs shot off is cracking jokes with an officer who cauuot laugh at j the humorous sallies because his lower jaw is shot away. A SICKENING SCENE. The cases here are uearly all capital, and i amputation is nearly always resorted to. I Hands and feet, arms and legs are thrown i under each table, and sickening piles grow ! large as the night progresses. The delicate ; limbs of the drummer boy fall along with I the rough hand of the veteran in years; but all, every one is so brave, and cheerful. Towards morning the conversation flags ; many drop off to sleep before they can be attended to, and some of them never wake again. The j only sound is the crunching of the surgeons' | saws and now and then the melancholy music j of random shell dismally wailing overhead. Few the prayers that are said, but I can yet hear the soft voice of a boyish soldier as he is lifted on to the table, his limbs a mass of quivering, lacerated flesh, quietly say : "Ob, my God, I offer all my sufferings here in atonement for the sins by which I have crucified Thee." Outside the members of the Christian Commission are hard at work at relieving all within reach, the stretcher carriers hurrying the wounded from the field; a few priests and the chaplains were quietly 1 moving among the suffering thousands, shrivI ing, giving them coraforL and soothing their | dying. At the Bernard Tiouse, where he had been carried, died, at midnight, the youngest general officer and one of the most beloved of all that fell, Gen. George D. Bayard of the cavalry. While conversing with some other officers early in the day a shell struck the ! group, passing through the overcoat of Capt. J H. G. Gibson, destroying bis sabre. It crushed General Bayard's thighs and carried away i a portion of his abdomen. He lived fourteen hours after being hit, and passed the time in quietly giving directions and in dictating letters to his friends. In one to Col. Collum, he said : "Give my love to Gen. McClellan and say my only regret is that I did not die under his command." He was to have been married on the following Wednesday. The bride awaited her cavalier, who never came, Bayard, satis peur ti sans reproche. The losses in some of the commands were unusually severe. I.OSSES IN HANCOCK'8 DIVISION. But the most appalling loss was in the division of Gen. Hancock. Of the five officers composing his personal staff three were wounded, and four horses were killed under them. The General himself was struck by a rifle ball, but not seriously hurt. Of the sixteen officers of the Sixty-ninth New York every one was killed or wounded, and the regiment lost 75 per cent, of the enlisted men, left the fleld with its fourth commander, three having been disabled. The Fifth New Hampshire lost seventeen out of twenty-three officers during the fight. The One hundred and Sixteenth Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers had all the field and staff and many of the line officers killed or wounded, and was taken off the field by the fourth officer in command during the fight. The first color-sergeant, William H. Tyrrell, held up the flag until hit with five rifle balls. The Eighty-first Pennsylvania lost twelve out of sixteen officers and 75 per cent, of the enlisted men. The fourth commanding officer brought the regiment off the field. The Fifty seventh New York lost nine out of the eleven officers present. The Sixty-sixth New York had four ' * .1 - - 1 ll _ x\ coramanaera during me Daiue, me mree first having been killed or wounded. Many other regiments of the division suffered almost as severe, yet, notwithstanding the great loss, on the morning of the following day, when ordered to support the Ninth Corps, the command fell in ready and willing, and the contemplated assault with the Ninth Corps, led by Gen. Burnside in person?from which he was happily dissuaded by Gens. Sumner and Hooker at the moment that all was ready to make the attack?was the last attempt of the campaign. THE UNIVERSE. Professor Proctor closes his lecture on "The Star Depths" with the following quotation from Jean Paul Friederich Richter: God called up a man into the vestibule of heaven, saying: "Come thou hither and see the glory of My house." And to the servants that stood around His throne He said : "Take him and undress him from the robes of flesh, cleanse his vision and put new breath into his nostrils ; only touch not with any change his human heart?the heart that weeps and trembles." It was done, and with a mighty angel for his guide, the man stood ready for his infinite voyage; and from the terraces of heaven,, without sound or farewell, at once they wheeled into endless space. Sometimes, with solemn flight of angel wing, they fled through saharas of darkness, through wildernesses of death that divided the worlds of life; sometimes they swept along frontiers that were quickening under prophetic motion. Then from a distance that is counted only in heaven, light dawned for a time through a sleepy film ; by unutterable pace the light swept to them, they, by unutterable pace, to the light. In a moment the rushing of planets was upon them ; in a moment the blazing of light was around them. Then came eternities of sues that twilight revealed, but were Dot re vealed. On the ~ight hand and the left towered mighty constellations, that by selfrepetitions and answers from afar; that by counter positions built up triumphal gates, whose architraves, whose archways?horizontal, upright?rested rose, at altitude by spans that seemed ghostly from infinitude. Without measure were the architraves, past number were the archways, beyond memory the gates. Within were stairs that scaled the eternities below; above was below? below was above to the man stripped of gravitating b'ody?depth was swallowed in height unsurmountable, height was swallowed up in depth unfathomable. Suddenly, as they thus rode from infinite to infinite? suddenly, as they thus tilted over abysmal worlds?a mighty cry arose, that systems more mysterious, that constellations more glorious, that worlds more billowy, other heights and other depths, were coming, were nearly, were at hand! Then the man sighed and stopped, shuddered and wept. His overburdened heart uttered itself in tears, and he said: "Angel, I will go no further. For the spirit of man acheth with this infinity. Insufferable is the glory of the universe. Let me lie down in the grave and hide myself from the persecution of the infinite; for end there is none." And from all the listening stars that shone around issued a choral voice: "The man speaks truly; end there is none, that even yet we have heard of. End there is none!" The angel solrauly demanded: "Is there indeed no end. and is this the sorrow that kills you ?" * But no voice answered, that he may answer himself. Then the angel throws up his glorious hands toward the heaven of heavens, saying: "End there is none in the universe of God. Lo ! also there was no beginning." GLASS IN EGYPT. Egypt offers the earliest positive evidence of glass making. Sir Gardiner Wilkinson mentions that glass bottles containing wine are represented on monuments of the fourth dynasty, more than four thousand years ago; and in the tombs at Beni Hassan the process of glass blowing is represented in an unmistakable manner. The earliest specimen of glass bearing an inscription from which its date may b# ascertained, which has as yet been met with, is the lion's head now in the Slade collection in the British Museum. This was found many years ago at Thebes, by Signor Drovetti. It is formed of opaque blue glass of a very bright and beautiful color (as may bo seen from a fractured part), but time has changed it externally to an olive green. Dr. Birch has informed the writer that the hieroglyphics which are on the under side, consist, on the right side, of an urceus wearing the "hut," or white crown of the upper world, or upper Egypt, and representing the goddess Sal* (Juno) ; on the '"ft iii-nono woorincr iho fpsh nr IClll 01UC Ul U1 VVUO mv ?ww.., W. red crown of the lower world, or lower Egypt, and representing the goddess of Nat or Neith (Minerva) ; while the central hieroglyphics form the prenomen of Nuantef IV of the eleventh dynasty, whose date according to Lepsius' chronology, was B. C. 24232480. A bead found at Thebes bears the prenomen of Hatafu, a qaeen who is conjectured to have lived about the year 1450 B. C.; this is of a dusky green glass, quite transparent, and is stated to have the specific gravity of bottle glass. It has been suggested that the material is not artificial glass, but obsidian, which abounds in Egypt and is occasionally of a green tint. Many colored fragments are found in the tomb of Thebes, and a vitrified coating, usually blue 'or green, was given to objects formed of earthenware and even of stone or granite. A high value seems to have been attached to colored glass at an early date; and weasels of fine opaque blue glass of Egyptian manufacture exist, edged with a tolerably thick plating of gold. Glass, if the Syrian, Greek and Latin versions of the Old Testament are correct, is placed (in the book of Job) in the same category as gold; the English version renders the word crystal. RESISTED. Four young men, clerks and students, while on a summer vacation tramp through Northern New England, engaged for a guide to a certain romantic forest waterfall, a boy named Forrest Graves. Forrest was a fine, athletic fellow, who could outwalk and out climb any amateur in the mountains, and his moral courage was quite equal to his physical health and strength. After he had guided the young men to the waterfall, and they had satisfied therasieLves with sight seeing, they invited him to lunch with them. "Thank you, I have my own lunch and the boy went away by himself. Later, when full iustice had been done to their repast. m tf I and a flask of brandy had furnished each of the young men with a stimulating draught, Graves was called. "You must* drink with us, if you will not eat with us," now, said the owner of the flask, and the most reckless of the party. "No, sir, thank you," was the boy's courteous response. "But I shall insist upon it." "You can do as you please, and I shall do as I please." The young man sprang to his feet, and with a bound stood beside the boy, too much absorbed in his owr purpose to heed the quivering lips and flash ng eyes of another. "Now you are bound to try my brandy. I always rule." "Yew can't rule rne." Hiese words were scarcely uttered when the flask was seized and hurled into a stream, where the clinking of glass betrayed its utter destruction. Then a clear, defiant tone rang out: "I did it in self defense. You had no right to tempt me. My father was once a rich and honorable man, but he died a miserable drunkard, and my mother came here to live to keeo mo away from liquor till I should be old enough to take care of myself. I have promised her a hundred times I wouldn't taste it, and I'd die before I'd break my promise." "Bravely said. Forgive me, and let us shake hands. My mother would be a happy woman if I was as brave as you. I wouldn't tempt you to do wrong. I shall never forget "you, nor the lesson you have taught me." The most reckless was the most generous, and seeing his error apologized frankly. How many boys need to be kept from strong drink ; and, alas, how many men and women! Who dares tempt them? Let it not be you and I.? Youth's Companion. Notice ! Young Man.?We heard of an accident, the other day, which we hasten to make public for the benefit of all young men who may feel interested in the matter of matrimony. At a certain church, after the services for the Sabbath were concluded, a certain young man named John stepped up to the side of one of the most handsome girls in the parish, to whom he had been paying "beautiful attention" of late, and politely requested the pleasure of seeing her home. Like a good affectionate girl she granted the boon and they started. Filled with rapture by the pleasant circumstances surrounding him, the young man was thrown off bis guard, and being desirous of saying something particularly fine and impressive, (it may have been ' a lay of love) he turned his face towards bis \ partner, (very close, as it doth often happen,) and whispered his thought. Alas 1 it was ?n unlucky whisper; for the same breath that conveyed the confidential message, also carried to the olfactories of the young lady the fumes of whisky! Quietly withdrawing her arm from that of her gallant, she stopped in the path and said : "Sir, you have been drinking whisky, and that of the meanest sort? you, nor no other Demi-John, can go home with me." And she tripped on her way, leaving the poor whisky lover standing with his thumb in his mouth completely ? "dumb founded" at the sudden reversion of his prospect, while the jeers, the taunts and groans of the spectators fairly roared around him. There are many young walking DemiJohns ; and as the ladies everywhere are becoming fast friends of temperance, and adopting the motto of, "sober men or no hus-% bands," we give the above publicity, that tUr. a* *1, air innnp Kv Iav. man j may oia; i>ijc naugbi vuvj imvui uj *v* ing liquor better than their chosen lassie. Rice Culture in the South-west.?-Before the war the rice crop carae chiefly from the G'arolinas. During the past ten years the' rice industry has been extended to Louisiana, where over fifty thouand acres are now devoted to it, and the annual crop of the country has been doubled. In the meantime great improvements have been made in the methods of thrashing and cleaning the grain by the introduction of machinery. When the grain is cut it is stacked in the fields to sweat, to facilitate the thrashing, after which the rice is sent to special mills for hulling and polishing. There are seven mills of this sort which have been built in New Orleans during the last decade. Each mill employs from twenty to forty hands, and all are busy. The rough rice is received in large bins, from which it is taken by elevators to the upper floor, where it is winnowed and sifted to remove sticks and rubbish. To remove the beard the rice is passed through a revolving "hoodlum," from which it is carried to the "stones" which crack off the hulls. Then the dark-colored grains are polished for market. The polisher consists of sheepskins, tanned, stretched over sheep wool on revolving cylinders, the space between the sheepskins and wire gauze being just sufficient to allow the rice grains to find their way by degrees to the bottom. The grains are highly polished by the friction against the skins, which rubs off the bran and leaves the grain clear and white. The bran amounts to eight barrels for every hundred barrels of clean rice. It is sometimes used to adulterate spices. The waste in hulling averages about five or six per cent., but sometimes reaches as high as twenty per cent. The hullers receive from half a cent to three-quarters of a cent per pound for hulling. The Spider's Apparatus.?jFew things are more wonderful than the spinning apparatus of the spider. On the under side of the creature's body are four or six little knobs, each not larger than the point of a pin. These are outlets of certain receptacles within the abdomen, where the silk is prepared. When a spider wishes to spin a thread, it presses the knobs or spinerets, with one of its legs, and forthwith there issues irons each, not one, but at least a thousand fibres, of such exquisite fineness that it is only when all the products of all the spinerets are united that they become visible to the naked eye. The "thread" of the spider is thus a tiny rope of four or six thousand strands. The twisting of the fibres into one cord is performed by the hindmost pair of legs, which like the rest, are furnished with three claws apiece. Using these claws as fingers, the little rope-maker twists her groups of thread into one with surprising rapidity. "Archimedes, you say, discovered specific gravity on getting into his bath; why had the principle never before occurred to him ?" "Perhaps this was the first time he ever took a bath." i