Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume], December 10, 1851, Image 1

About Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861

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WILLIAM P. COOPER, 1
' WE St AND UPON TllE PRINCIPLES OF IMMUTABLE JUSTICE, AND KO HUMAN POWER SHALL DRIVE CB FROM OUR FOSITIOS." Jackson.
[EDITOR &l PROPRIETOR.
VOL. I;?NO, II.
CLARKSBURG, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER lOtli, 1851.
WHOLE \0. S.
TEItMS.
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mado to thoso wlio advertise by tho year.
Announcement of Candidates for office %'i,00.
-Marriages and Deaths inserted gratis.
All communicntions, to insure attention, must
So accompanied by tho author's nmne and post
paid.
PKAKFUf, WIGHT WITH WOLVES;'
V Story of Olden Times.
'iltc settlors of New England were not
uhfreqUfintly ityccmmoded by the numbers
and ferocity of the Solves, which prowled
around their rude settlements. The hun
ter easily overpowered tberil, and with
one discharge of his musket scattered j
them from about his dwelling. They fled
from the timid child, in the broad glare of
day?but in the thick and solitary night,
tar away from the dwelling of men, they
were terrible from their fiendish and fero
cious appetite for blood. I have heard of
a (earful story of the wolf, from the lips of
some of the old settlers of Vermont, which
I will relate to you in the language of one !
of the witnesses of the scene.
I wiw a night of January, in the year
170:t. We had been to a" fine quilting
frolic, about two miles from our settle
ment of four or five log houses.' 'Twas j
rat her late?there was no moon?and a ,
dull gray shadow or haze hung all aronnd
the horizon, while over head a few pale j
and sickly looking stars, gave us a dull,
light as they shone through a dingy cur-1
tain. There were six of us in company
?Harry Mason and myself, and four as j
pretty girls as ever grew up this side of
iho Green Mountains. There were mv
two sisters, and Harry's sister, and his
sweetheart, the daughter of our next door
neighbor. She was a right down hand
some girl?that Caroline Allen. I never j
saw her equal, though I am no stranger
in pretty faces. She was so pleasant and j
kind of heart?so gentle and sweet spoken, j
and so intelligent besides, that every body
loved her. She had an eye as blue as
the hill vuilet, and her lips were like a
red rose leaf in June. No wonder then!
that Marry loved her?boy- though he j
was?for we had neither of us seen our
seventeenth summer.
Our path lay through a thick forest of
oak, with here and there a tall pine raising
iu dark full shadow against the sky, with
an outline rendered indistinct by the dark
ness. The snow was deep?deeper a
great deal than it ever falls.of late years
?but the surface was frozen strongly
enough to hear our weight, and we hur
ried on over the white pathway with rapid
steps. \\ e had not preceded far before
a long low howl came to our ears. We
all knew it in a moment; and 1 could feel
a shudder thrilling the arms that were
niift. j )|)V own?a su,|(i,.(i cry
burst from the hps of us an?"tiie noive's
?-the wolves !"
Dili you ever see a wild wolf?not one
ot your caged, broken down, show animals,
which are exhibited for sixpence u sight
children half nrice?but a fierce, half |
starved ranger Of the wintry forest, howl
ing and hurrying over the barren snow j
actually mad with hunger? There is no,
one of God's creatures which has such a |
frightful, fiendish Ifiok as this animal.? !
It has the form as well as the spirit of a
demon. Another, and another houl?[
and then we could hear distinctly the ,
quick patter of feet behind \is. We all J
turned right about and looked in the di
rection of the sound.
' The devils are after us,' said Mason
pointing to a line of dark gliding bodies.
And so in fact they were?a whole troop
of them?howling like as many Indians
in apowow. Wc had no weapons of any
kind, and we knew enough of the nature
of the vile creatures that followed us to
feel that it would be useless to contend
with them. There was not a moment to
lose?the savage beasts were close upon I
us.- To attempt flight would have been a '
hopeless,affair. There was but ono chance
of escape, and we instantly seized up
on it. >
' To the tree ! let us climb this tree !' I
fried, springing forwark to a lowboughcd
and gnarled oak, which I saw at a glance
might be climbed into.
Harry Mason sprang lightly into the
tree and aided in placing the terrified girls
in it place ot comparative security among
the thick b ughs. I was the last on the
ground, and the whole troop were yelling
at my hi;cl> before I reached the rest of
the company. There was one moment of
hard breathiug and wild exclamations
among us, and then a feeling of calm
'hunkfulness for our escape. The night
cold?and wc soon began to shiver
11 ^akc, like so many sailors on the
topmast of an ict.iRnii whaler. But there
no murmur?no complaint among us,
for we couvi distinctly see the gaunt at
tenuated bmeR (lf thcJ wolves be^lcft(h us>
and every now ami then wc could see
great, glowing eyes, st?nngup in thc lrt.c
where-wcw.ro seated then tl)cir
yells?they were loud, long ,vm\ devilish.
I know not how long wc had remRined in
this situation, for we had no means of as
certaining the time?when I heard a limb
of the tree cracking, as if breaking down
beneath the weight of us ; and a moment
after a shriek went through mjr ears like
went plunging down through the naked
branches, and fell with a dull and Heavy
sound upon the stiff snow,
. '.Oh, God 1 I am gone !'
It was the voice of Caroline Allen?
The poor girl never spaluo again ! ?' There
was a horrid dizziness and confusion in
my brain, and I spoke not?and I stirred
not, for the whole was ut that time like an
form
ugly> unreal dream. I only remembered
that there were cries and shuddering
around me ; perhaps I joined them?and
that there were smothered groans aftd
dreadful howls underneath ! It was all
over in a moment. Poor Caroline 1 She
was literally eaten alive. The wolves
had a frightful feast, and they became
taring with the taste of blood.
When I came fully to myself?when
the horrible dream went off?and it lasted
but a moment?I struggled to shake off
the arms of my sisters, who were clinging
around me, and could I have cleared my
self, 1 should have jumped down among
the raging animals. But when a second
thought came over me, I knew that any
| attempt to rescue would be useless. As
for poor Mason, he was wild with horror.
1 He had tried to follow Caroline when she
fell, but he could not shake off the grasp
of his terrified sister, llis youth, and
weak constitution and frame, were Unable
to withstand the dreadful trial; and he
stood close by my side, with his hands
firmly clenched and his teeth set closely,
gazing down upon the dark, wrangling
creatures below, with the fixed stare of a
maniac. It was indeed a terrible scene.
Around us was the thick cold night?and
below, the ravenous wild beasts were lap
ping their bloody jaws, and howling ior
another victim.
The morning broke at last, and our
frightful enemies fled at the first advance
of li.'vylight, like so many cowardly mur
derers. We waited until the sun iiail ri
sen before we ventured to crawl down
from our resting place. We were chilled
through t-very limb was numb with cold
and terror?anil j.^or Mason was delirious,
and raged wildly about ike dreaii/ul things
lie had witnessed. There were bloody
stains around the tree, and two or three
locks of hair were trampled into the
snow.
We had gone but a little distance when
wo were met by our friends from the set
tlement, who had become alarmed at our
absence. They were shocked at our wild
and frightful appearance ; and my broth
ers have often told me that at first veiw
we all seemed like so many crazed and
brain-stricken creatures. They assisted
us to our homes, but llarry Mason nevet
fully recovered from the dreadful trial.?
He neglected his business, his studies,
and his friends, anon muttering to him
self about that horrible night. He fell to
drinking soon after, and died a miserable
drunkard, before age had whitened a hair
of his head.
The t>rcut Cheese Mill.
Yankee Dan Marble whenever lie comes
along is sure to be in possession of some
good thing, says the St. Louis Reveille,
llis last is an extensive cheese manufac
tory, and its extent may be judged from
the following conversation :
Two men Were seated at a table in
Nashville, drinking ale and eating crack
ers and cheese. The conversation at
length turned upon large cheese.
' That was a very large cheesc pre
Kl'ntcul ti) AnJruu* I unlfqnii,' uu'ul no
' Yes, it weighed 900 pounds and up
wards,* answered the other. 1
A young gentleman who was sitting
reading a newspaper in the same room j
inquired:
' I low much did you say, sir?'
' Nine hundred and upwards,' answer
ed the other.
' That is about half as large as some
ray father makes in this county,' was the
young man's reply ; his cheese generally
average 2000 pounds.'
' Two thousand pounds !' exclaimed the
strangers in perfect astonishment. 'Why,
how does he manage a dairy capable of
making such enormous cheese ?' inquired
both simultaneously.
' Yery easily,' replied the young man ;
?he has an extensive trough, leading
down the side of a large hill on his place,
and half way down there is an immense
valley; the cows are milked in the trough,
and the milk runs into the reservoir,
about middle way on the side of the hill.'
Leaving the strangers to digest his de
scription, the young man coolly laid down
his paper and walked off. Presently the
landlord stepped in.
' Do you know that young man who
left this room a few minutes since V inqui
red one of the strangers.
'Yes, sir, said the landlord, 'he is
the son of a dairy ow ner in this coun
ty *
? What is his character for truth and
veracity ?' inquired the strangers.
' I have never heard it doubted,' repli
ed the landlord.
' My reason for asking you,' said the
stranger, 'is, that he has been telling us
that his father manufactures cheese at his
dairy in this county which average two
thousand pounds.'
' I don't know anything about the
weight of his- cheese,' answered the land
lord, ' but I know that this old man
runs, at the bottom of the hill, two saw
mills, which ait; driven the whole year
round by the whey which runs from his
cheese press !'
? Will you be so kind as to order up
our horses ?' quickly remarked the trav
ellers.
itST It is said- that the people of Brazil
entertain the funny idea that negroes were
first formed by his Satanic Majesty in im
itation of the creation of Adam. The clay
he touched became black, and he attemp
ted to wash .his production in the Jordon,
but the river receded before him, and he
only had time to push his handiwork on
the wet sand, which accounts for the com
parative whiteness of the palms and so]es
of tli(i negro. In a rage, the devil struck
his creation-on the nose, by which the
tlatncss of that organ was accomplished,
The negro then begged for mercy, as no
blame could bo attached to him, when the
other, somewhat pacified, patted him on
the head, and the heat of his hand curled
1 his hair in the way it is scon.
ANGRY WORDS.
Angry words arc lightly spoken,
In a rash and thoughtless hour?
Brightest links in life are broken
By their deep, insidious power.
Hearts inspired by warmest feeling.
Ne'er before by anger stirred,
Oft am rent past human healing,
By a single angry word.
Poison-drops of care an<3 sorrow,
Bitter poison-drops are they,
Weaving for the coming mqrrow,
Saddest memories of to-day.
Angry words 1 oh, let them never
From the tongue unbridled slip I
May the heart's best impulse ever
Check them ere they soil the lip 1
Love is much too pure and holy,
Friendship is too sacred far,
For a moment's reckless folly
Thus to desolate and mar.
Angry words are lightly Bpoken?
Bitterest thoughts are rashly stirred,
Brightest links of life are broken
By a single angry word.
From tho World of Fashion.
MERCY O'MORE; Or Lore's Rogue
ries.
A bewitching creature was Mercy O'
More. From the Giant's Causeway to
L."Pe Uear?from Connemara to the hill
ot Howth?you would not meet with such
another dear, delightful, captivating dar
ling. All the boys of high estate or low
estate, rich and poor, acknowledged the
fascinations of .Miss Mercy, and no one
was ever known to be thrown into any i
other than an exatic state, when Miss
Mercy favored him with a smile of that
ueur, delightful, dimpled face of hers!
Oh, it was quite enchanting to have such
a smile beamed upon one. Talk of the
sun ! There was never a ray from that
glorious luminary that fell so warmly upon
the heart of created man, at a smile from
the sweet face of Mercy O'More. There
was a ,7ian declared that upon his heart
Miss Mercy made no impression, and peo
ple said, in consequence, that lie had no
heart at all ; but he had am] a pretty good
one too, as the sequel will show, it hap
pened too, that this very identical youn?
gentleman with a hard covering, was the
only one who Mercy herself had fallen in
love with.
? ' ^i1; Florencc darling,' said Sir Mau
rice O'More, one day to Mercy's sister;
and so you beleive that our beauty is
fast caught in love, too, with that unlov
mg Englisber, Harry Perceival.'
' I do, indeed,' was the reply.
' And what makes you think so ?'
' I can interpret down-cast eyes, and
gentle sighs, I warrant. 'Sister !' said I
to-d-av, ? sweet sister, what think vou of
the gay young bachelor, our visitor '?'
' A goodly man enough,* she said, and
then ' heigho ! heigho !' she sighed.
Do you mark that. < That goodly man,'
said I ? will make some pretty maiden's
heart ache.' ? I doubt not he will,' she I
straight replied ; and then she turned the
leaves of many books, but nothing plea
sed her there ; she tried her pencil too,
hut after making many crooked lines slip
blamed the unskillful maker of tli^ cray?
on, and snapt it in a pet; her gay guitar
she said was out of tune ; and then her
harp. ^ Alas ! she swept her lingers over
the strings, but the only music she made
was the echo of her sigh.'
' And from this,' said Sir Maurice
* you infer that she loves. Well, time will
show.'
It is possible that Harry Percival may
ha\e felt the soft passion creeping upon
mm, and not wishing to become a Bene
dict, he resolved upon flying from the
dangerous neighborhood of Mercy O'
More. Certain it is, that he called to him
his man Barney, a jintlcmen who officiated
in various capacities, valet included, and
ordered him to pack up all his 'traps.'
'!? or,'said he'Barney, we leave this
place to-morrow morning.'
' Sure you won'a' said Barney.
Sure I will,' responded Harry Perci
val.
' They want to persuade me that I'm
in love with Mercy O'More.'
' And could you do worse than be in
love with lier?' said Barney.
' Could I ?' said his master, ' but I don't
happen to be in the mind just at present.
to do anything so desperate. I'm not to
be caught with her beautiful bit of blar
ney '
' you be talking of the blarney,
master, replied the faithful domestic.?
' Mayhap you havn't been rubbed with
the blarney stone yourself. By my con
science I have heard you whispering such
things in the ears of the English girls,
that St Patrick himself couldn't beat with
the blarney stone at the back of him,'
' Hush, Barney ! No talc telling out of
school.'
'Say fie to yourself, master. Isn't it
jourself that s libeling the red cheeks and
bright eyes fblessings on 'em) of Miss
Mercy ? An, Master, whenever I catch
a twinkle of those eyes, I feel a great coat
warmer all the day after. Och! such
eyes,' such diamonds.'
' Irish, diamonds?eh ?' said his mas
ter.
No, sir; the genuine! Then such
cheeks, red and white laid on by the
hands of Lady Nature herself, round
about like the cherry-bima' heads at church.
Then her. lips. Och ! that's murthera
tion.'
'You are romantic, Barney,' said his
master.
' You may say that,' was the reply, ' I,m
just the .boy for that same.'
' Well, well,' ejaculated Percival, sup
pressing a smile,' bv this time to-morrow
Barney, you and I will be on the hieh
road '
' To' matrimony, sir ?'
' No sirrah, to England.'
?You'd better be merciful, and lead
Meroy to the- alter.'
?And tie myself up in a halter after
ward. No, no, I'm not bound for the
giil&of.matt'imQny yetj.
Thus saying, Harry turned round and
perceived a tall lantern-visaged young
gentlemen whom he heard breath a hea
vy sigh, hanging down his head.
? Hallo,' cried Harry, ' who are you ?'
The stranger heaved another sigh.
* Are you dumb, sir ?' asked Harry.
The stranger shook his head.
? What ails you ? speak.'
The stranger heaved another sigh, and
exclaiming, ' Mercy O'More I' hastily re
tired,
* Poor unfortunate gentleman ! ex-1
claimed Harry. * What a vixen this Mer
cy must be. A fury incarnate. I wish
1 was a thousand miles off.'
Turning again, he beheld one of the
prettiest, wildest, most good-natured look
ing little flower girls he had ever encoun
tered, who dropped a modest courtsey,
and was passing onward, when Harry
caught her apron and asked her what her
name was.
* Kathleen, if you please, sir, replied
the girl. ' Kathleen the flower girl it you
please, who gathers blossoms from hill
and dale, for the gratification of her cus
tomers, Will you buy ? Here are roses
and lillies, but they are for the gentle and
good.'
' And am I not good V asked Harry. ^
'La, no, you're aman. Here is heart's
ease for the forsaken lover, will you buy?
And here are some pretty tulips ; do you
love tulips?'
' Your two lips, of all the world, my
pretty Kathleen.'
' La,' cried the girl blushing and sim
pering ; will you buy ? They may wit
you, for they are as bright as the butter
fly.'
? And am I like a butterfly V exclaimed
Harry Pcrcival.
' Oh, no ; not quite so pretty,' was the
'Fie, my dear wencli,' said Harry, ' I
should like to he better acquainted with
you.'
' Should you indeed! Well that's ve
ry kind, for nobody thinks of any pretty
girl now, but Mercy O'More. .1 was once
a beauty, sir.'
' And are you not still?still most beau
tiful ?' ., , ? , . , .
' Ah, tliai's flattery,' said the girl, but
the young men all thought the same once.
Before Miss Mercy came into the neigh
borhood I was the loveliest, happiest and
gayest of girls; everybody envied me, for
I was universally beloved. I then had
twenty lovers and a half, real ones, too.
' Twenty and a half!' cried Harry.
' Yes. The half was Cormic O'Cassey,
a very good-natured bit of a man, rather
tender, sir, (touching her forehead.)?
Nature in creating him, has made a slight
mistake, and transferred the soft place
from the heart to the head. He never
told liis love, but only used to squeeze my
hand when lie bought a pt>sey, and sigh
ed most shockingly. O dear !'
' And did that merciless Mercy rob you
of all these ?'
' Ah, she did. There's not a lover can
be kept from her.'
' It is very strange,'said Harry, 'that
for her capricious smiles they ?Wuld have
forsaken the pretty Kathleen.
' Isn't it sir ; there must have been
some witchery in it, and they all of them
011 their bended knee swore they lo"> ed
me dearly. Ah, those were happy times
when the day's work being ended, I se
lected one from many suitors to accom
pany me in a moonlight ramble among
the hills and valleys, glades and glens, by
wood and lake, each scene a paradise, and
I the presiding spirit. And^ when the
sun was sinking beneath the distant hills,
its last glories were accompanied by the
music of mv beloved?'
' Ah,' cried Harry, ?a guitar.'
' No, Jew's harp. He played so sweet
ly that my spirit wept, as the divine mel
ody fell upon my young heart, and when
the great moon arose, our hearts were en
tranced with bliss.'
' I see it' cried the enraptured youth,
' I picture the romantic scene, earth, hea
ven and water ; moonlight, paradise, and
a Jew's harp. O delightful.'
' Yes, very, except when a shower of
rain visited us, for then my lover would
run away.'
! ' Run away ! Now can there be on
| earth a man so vile? Run away from
j such a simple innocent girl as Kathleen ?
Kathleen, that man was a villian.'
'Was he indeed?'
'Kathleen, vour charms, your inno
cence, your delightful simplicity, entitle
you to a suitor of superior rank. Mercy
j O'More has not one naif your attractions.
I She is precious ugly.'
' I'm not precious ugly, am I ?' asked
the flower girl,
' You?you !' cried Harry. No ; you
| are perfection ; you are?you are?sounds
?I feel?I feel '
' Do you feel ill ?'
1 '111? Yes?not ill my dear; but I
have the heart-burn sadly.'
' Shall I fetch you a little chalk and
( water ?*
j Oh no, the only medicine that can ef
fect my cure lies deep in those lovely eyes;
let me gaze on them until my own full
| orbs shall draw it forth.'
' Oh, sir,' cried Kathleen, blushing
I deeply.
' Let me gaze, and gaze again,' ex
claimed Harry. ' 'Ti? thus that I would
i fortify myself against the witchcraft of
i Mercy O'More.'
' Would you, indeed V replied Kath
leen, with such an expression, that Harry
suspected she was something more than
she seemed, but her subsequent replies
removed his suspicions, and he inwardly
congratulated himself upon having one of
the purest, most artless and unsophistica
ted girls in the world. He was already
half in love with her, and before they baa
parted be made Kathleen promise to meet
him again. Presently afterward Barney
arrived with the intelligence that his mas
ter's moveables were packed and ready
for departure. * Unpack them, again,
said Harry Percival; and Barney won
dering at bis master's fickleness, retired
to obey tbe new orders. A fortnight had
passed, and Percival had grown reserved
in his behavior to Mercy O'More; and
he stole out every evening after dinner to
meet the pretty Kathleen with whom he
was so much enamored, that be at length
resolved to marry her.
? I am going to get married,' said he to
Sir Maurice O'More.
' It is not possible !' said the Baronet.
' I knew I should surprise you. You
will be more surprised wnen I name Mrs.
Harry Percival elect. I am resolved to j
do justice to modest merit. Sir Maurice,
for what is fortune given to us for, but
that we may bestow it in rewarding vir
tue and goodness ?'
Sir Maurice admitted the justice of the
enthusiast's opinion.
? And therefore I intend to marry Kath
leen Nolan, a poor but beautiful peasant
whom I adore.'
Sir Maurice expressed a wish to see
the charmer, and Percival promised to
bring her the next night.
' But,' he added, ' be sure you keep
Mercy out of the way, for she will laugh
at me.'
On the next evening, the charmer was
conducted into a little parlor of Sir Mau
rice Q'More's, and the lover, tbe lady and
tbe baronet spent a very pleasant half
hour. Percival made Sir Maurice ac
knowledge that Kathleen was more beau
tiful than his daughter Mercy, though Sir
Maurice qualified the admission by de
claring it to be his opinion that he had
seen Mercy when she used to dress her
hair in a profusion of ringlets, look quite
as beautiful as her rival. But Percival
insisted that it was quite impossible that
Mercy could look like Kathleen, or talk so
fascinating as Kathleen. And it then oc
curred to the lover that it was time to de
part, and he said as much, but Kathleen
did not stir from her seat,
' Come Kathleen,' he at last said, ' we
must go.'
'O, no, not just yet,' she replied in a
tone more fascinating than anything Per
cival had ever before heard ; even from
her lips; and running her fingers over
the strings of Mercy's harp, that stood
near her, she played one of the national
melodies with such delightful expressions,
that Percival, seizing her hand and kis
sing it alternately," cried aloud that he
was the happiest person in the world, and
Sir Maurice said he thought he ought to
be.
' Do you love me a little,' asked Kath
leen archly.
'Love you?' cried Percival, 'to dis
traction, to madness.'
?Then,' said Kathleen, 'suppose we
ring the bell, and let sister Florence come
and witness our happiness ?'
' What !' cried Percival.
' What!' echoed Sir Maurice.
Kathleen removed her clustering curls
from her cheeks and brow, and displacing
some marks which she had penciled Up
on her countenance, was discovered to be
no other than Mercy O'More herself, who
had hit upon the method of winning the
heart of the man ?h? loved.
Need we add that the bell was rung in
compliance with Kathleen's request, and
that Florence came in to witness the hap
piness of her beloved sister, and that Mer
cy-relinquished her right and title to the
ancient and honorable name of O'More
within a month, at the nuptial altar.
Comtrkssino the Waist.?In the per- ]
sonal recollections of Charlotte Elizabeth, I
the following passage occurs. Her fath
er came in while the stay-maker was
spreading out her buckram, whalebone,
<fec.
' Pray, what are you going to do with
the child ?'
' Going to fit her with a pair of stays.'
' For what purpose V
' To improve her figure ; no young lady
can grow up without them."
' 1 beg your pardon, young gentlemen
grow up very well without them, and so
may young ladies.'
' Oh, you are mistaken. See what a
stoop she has already ; depend on it, that
girl will be both a dwarf and a cripple if
we dont put her into the stays.'
' My child may be a cripple, ma'am, if
such is Ood's will, but she shall be one
of His making, not ours.'
Therefore, she grew up without head
aches, or other lady like maladies. Per
haps some may say this baa no bearing
upon the subject we are upon ; but I beg
leave to differ, for the stiffening now put
in the dresses of our females is more in
jurious to the vital parts of the body than
the stays could ever be.
I, equally with you, admire the present
neat fashion of high neck dresses and
flowing skirts ; but the wasp-like waisU
ruin the health of hundreds of the fair
population of *>ur land.
Pat as Yor Go.?The famous rule
laid down by John Randolph, for promo
ting prosperity and fortune, is perhaps the
simple secret for effecting the entire re
form of social society. Pay as you go !
Pay what ? Your debt* '?well V These
debts include not only what you owe to
man, but to your country?not only what
what you owe to your country, but to
yourself;?not only what you owe to your
self, but to God, the greatest of creditors.
Pay your fare ; your tailor ; your wash
erwoman ; and, before all; your printer !
Your debts to society are included in the
: virtues of forbearance, charity, public
works ; to your country, patriotic self
sacrifice, and the devotion of your mind,
body and time, on all occasions of public
! exigency. To yourself, in doing justice
to your natural endowments, your con
1 science and all proper and pure sensibili
ties. To God, for all that yon have, ac
cording to the laws he bias prescribed.
Prayer, forbearance, lore to your fellows,
faith in the world's great Governor, and a
perfect resignation to bis will! Properly
m
considered, this simple rule,?*'Pay as
you Go,*?involves all the duties to your
self, to society, to the country, the la?a
and religion?Charleston Jtw.
THE CHARACTER OF PAt'L.
?* t. T. HEAM.T.
Paul, in his natural character before
his conversion, resembled Bonaparte more
than any other man?I mean both in Ids
intellectual developementa and energy of
will. He had the same inflexibility of
purpose, the same utter indifference to
human suffering, when he had onee de
termined on his course, the same tireless, i
unconquerable resolution, the same fear
lessness both of man's power and. opin
ions, and that calm, self-reliance and
mysterious control over others. But the
point of greatest resemblance is in the
union of a strong, correct judgement,
with rapidity of thought, and sudden im
pulse. They thought quicker, yet better
than other men. The power, too, which
both possessed was all practical power.?
There are many men of strong minds,
where force nevertheless wastes in reflec
tion, or in theories for others to act upon.
Thought may work out into language, but
not into action. They will plan better
than they can perform. But these men
not only thought better, but they could
work better than other men.
The same self-control and perfect sub
jection of his emotion?even terror itself
?to the mandates of his will, are exhi
bited in his conduct when smitten to the
earth, and blinded bv the light and voice
of heaven. John when arrested by ilie
same voice on ilie Isle of Patomas, fell
on his facc as a dead man, and dared not
stir or speak till encouraged by the lan
guage, 'Fear not.* But Paul, (or Saul,)
though a persecutor, and a violent man,
showed no symptoms of alarm or terror.
The voice, the blow, the light, the glory,
and the darkness that followed, were
sufficient to upset the strongest mind ;
but he, master of himself, and his emo
tions, instead of giving way to exclama
tions of terror, simply said : 'Lord, what
wilt thou have me to do?' With his
reason and judgement as steady and
strong as ever, he knew at once that
something was wanted of him, and, ever
ready to act, he asked what it was.
' From this time on, his track can be dis
tinguished by the commotion about it, and
the light above it. Straight back to Je
rusalem, from whence he had so recently
come with letters to legalize his persecu
tions, he went to cast his lots in with
those he had followed with violence to the
slaughter. His strong heart never beat
one quicker pulsation through fear, when
the lofty turrets of the proud city flashed
on his vision. Neither did he steal away
to the dark alleys and streets where the
disciples were concealed, and toll them
secretly his faith in the Son of God.-?
He strode into the synagogues, and before
the astonished priests, preachcd Christ
and him crucified. He thuudercd at the
door of Sanhedrim itself, and shaking
Jerusalem like an earthquake, awoke a
tempest of rage and fury on himself.?
With assassins dodging his footsteps, he
at length left the city. But, instead of
going to places where he was unknown,
aud where his feelings would be less tri
ed, he started to his native city, his fath
er's house, the home of his boyhood, for
his kindred and friends. To entreaties,
tears, scorn and violence, he was alike
imprevious. To Antioch and Cyprus,
along the coast of Syria and Rome, over
the known world he went like a blazing
comet, waking up the nations of the earth.
From the top of Mar's Hill, with the gor
geous city at his feet, and the Acropolis
and Pantheon behind him ; on the deck
of his shattered vessel in the intervals uf
the crash of billows, in the gloomy walls
of a prison, on the borders of the eternal
kingdom, he speaks in the same calm and
determined tone. Deterred by no danger,
awed by no presence, and shrinking from
no responsibility, he moves before us like
some grand embodiment of power. The
nations heave around him, and kings turn
pale in his presence. Bands of conspira
tors swear to neither to cat nor drint till
they have slain him; rulers and priests
combine against him ; and the people
stone him ; yet, over the din of the con
flict and storm of violence, hi* voice of
eloquence rises clcar and distinct at a
trumpet call, as he still preaches Christ,
and him crucified. The whip is laid on
his back till the blood starts with every
blow, and then his mangled body thrown
into a dungeon ; but at midnight you
hear that same calm, strong voice which
has shaken the world, poured forth in a
hymn of praise to God, and lo ! an earth
quake rocks the prison to its foundation ;
the manacles fall from the hands of the
captives, the bolts withdraw of them
selves, and the massive doors swing
back on their hinges.
One cannot point to a single spoi in his
career, where ne faltered a moment, or
fave way to discouragement or fear.? j
hrough all his perilous life, he exhibited
the same intrepidity of character and lof
ty spirit. With his eyes fixed on regions
beyond the ken of ordinary mortals, and
kindling on glories, it was not permited
him to reveal, he pressod forward to an
incorruptible crown, a fadeless kingdom.
And then his death, how indisenbably
sublime. Napoleon dying in the midat
of the midnight storm, with the laat
words that fell from his lipa a battle cry,
and his passing spirit watching in iu de
lirium the torn heads of his mighty col
umns, aa they disappeared in the saoto
of the conflict, is a sight that awes tad
startles us. But behold Paul also, a war
worn veteran, battered with many a sear,
though in a spiritual warfare, looking
back not with ahum, but transport: ga
zing not on earth, bat on heave*. Hear
his calm serene voice ringing over the
storms and commotions of life ; " I am
now ready to be offend, and th? time of
my departure is at hand. I have fought
a good fight, I have finished my course,
there is laid'up for me a crown of righ
teousness." No shouts of foemen, nor
smoke of carnage of battle surrounded
his spirit to be free; but troops of shining
angels, the smile of God, ana the songs
of the redeemed^ the?e guarded him and
welcomed him home.
Fsmals Socmr.?Of all the refiners
of the coarse nature of man, true female
society is the moat effective. There is a
respect for the softer sex implanted in us
by nature that makee us d*?ire to nppent
well in the presence ?f delicate and iutel
igent females, and has a tendency to ele
ovate our feelings, and imvko us assume a
gentleness and propriety 0f deportment
totally at variance with all coarseness and
vulgarity. Such is the influence of the
intercourse of which we speak, in forming
character, that we do not recollect ever
having seen a young man devoted to the
society of ladies of nls own age, that did
not turn out well and prosper in life;
while on the other hand, we nave obser
ved many who, by cop fining themselves
to association with the: members of their
sex, acquired a roughness and unroutij
ncss of manner, that entirely unfitted
them for the free intercourse of life. Wo
are perfectly aware that a foolish timidi
ty is at the bottom of this ; ye esteem It
a great defect of character. .If the ladies
were only aware of the power they right
hilly possess in forming the habits and
manners of men, they would tako pains to
allay the sensitiveness which produoes
want of ease in their presence, and by
becoming affability and kindness, cherish
confidence and self-possession. The
members of the two sexes were Invited by
their Maker to be companions for eaen
other, and tho more easy and free their
intercourse can be?due regard being had
to strict propriety?the more delicate and
refined will be the sentiments of all con
corned.
Carktinu Bukolks.?Some people hare
a contemptible fear of being seen to eafry
any bundle, however small, havirig the
absurd idea that there is a social degra
dation in the aet. The most trifling m
well as weighty packages must be sent tof
them, no matter how much to the incon
venience of others. This arlsea from Ik
low kind of pride. There is a pride that
is higher; that arises from a conscious*
ness of there being something in the indl?
vidual not to be affected by suoh acci
dents?worth and weight of character.
This latter pride was exhibited by the
American son of Jerome Napoleon Bona
parte. While he was in College at Cam
bridge, he was one day carrying to his
room a broom he had iust purchased,
when he met a friend, who, noticing the
broom, with surprise exclaimed:
'Why did you not have it sent homo?'
? I am not ashamed to carry home any
thing that belongs to mo I' was the sensi
ble reply of young Bonaparte.
Very different pride was this from that
of ? young lady whom we knew, who pi
ways gave her mother all tho bundles to
carry, when they went out together, be
cause she thought it vulgar to be seen
with one herself;
St'iTRRsaiKo A Birr Siiop.?An enter
prising Dutchman who kept a beor and
porter house in New York, gave the fol
lowing Account at tho police office of an
assault on his premises, speaking of the
person who commenced the row, he
said :
" He coomed in, and axed me to tell
him some beer; I told him he had more
as would do him goot?ho called me a
Dutch liar, and pcuin to broke two turn
blcrs, ven mc and Hans Speiglor, and my
wife and mv torlcr Pctsey, and all de to*
dcr men about my place begin to noot
him out?and presently he coom pack wit
twenty more shist like him, and say?" 1
will fix this beer concern, and prank him
up, and an shentiemens as want to git
drunk, shall git drunk like shentiemens,
on gin and prandy, and not on dis dam
Dutch pisen." Den de* kick Hans flpet
flcr behind his pack, and kiss my tortet*
'etay pefore her face, and prealc all der
glass pottles, except dor big atone pitch
er, and spilt mjr wife and ma, and (odder
barrels of beef all over der ecIMr. Hans
runn'd out der toor, and called for der
watch bouse, and my wife cried ' natter*
like ter tirel, but before ter watch house
come, ter tam rowdies proke us all u? pte*
ces?me and my tortcr I'etsy, and liana
Spcigler, and all ter pottles and tumblers,
and plates and dishes, all smashed up to*
gedder."
A Ssnsibl* Dkt*ctiok.?A big black,
buck negro was charged before the Re
corder of New Orleans, by one of the*
genus Dandy, with stealing?or 4 rather
with being caught in the act of stealing?
his boots out of his bed room,at an early
hour 'n the morning. A little frab of the
law'?one of the sharp practiX^lass?
who defended the negro, w*?*JflUher
querulous in his cross-cjtamfnatkm of the
complainant
' Now, air/ he said, 'you have told his
Honor that you were in bed when the ne
gro entered your room. Did touraee him
at the time f
'No.'
' Did you hear h'ua V
? No.'
1 Well, then did you feel him V
'NV
' How, then, came you to know that he
waa stealing yoor boots V
? 'Why, fsroeH him ; opened my eyes,
and found that be was?as one of our
poets very beautifully expresses ft?Meal
ing and giving odour '
Impvoskt Qcistiom.?To ask a minis
ter if be ever did anything wrong. To
aak a young lady whether she would like
a beau. To ask a printer if he baa more
than one shirt. To aak a subscriber if he
has paid the printer.