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' 4 k .,, ... .,.M... - .............liWiW"ail.. I. ."' - " - ; '( - -- - T".'. H Volume III. WINOHI5STJSR, TENN., 'FElilitTAIY 10, 1859. Number 5. Site fame .gflnral "BY W. J. H LATTER. Ple4e lo no Forty'! orbllrory away, Wo follow Truth where'er he lm) the way.' Our paper is issued this week on Thursday morning, at which timo it will continue to make its appearance very, week.. Advertisements, to in sure insertion, must be handed in by Tuesday morning, at furthest, as we put the paper to press on Wednesday. OPPOSITION TO YOUNG MEN. Everybody knows how common it is for old and middleaged men to try o keep young men from rising in the world by sneers at the youthl'ulneas of ;the aspirants as even in the case of Walpole, whose taunts against Pitt so signally failed to depress the latter, and served but to "damn their author to everlasting shame." No young man of talents but has had such eni mies to encounter; men who seem to take a fiendish delight and cherish certain malicious pleasure in seeking to depress everything like genius en thusiasm and the bouyant ambitious of the bl ight or brilliant young man. This arises half from thir malice, and as much from utter ignorance of the nature and temperament of genius. When the climber upward has gained a place among his peers, then it is that these miserable flatterers cringe and fawn as basely as they formerly maligned and ridiculed him, and would fain crowd out his old friends and staunch adherents. In his green age and building season, the youth of ge nius craves and requires sympathy. It is with him especially, (and in a measure with all men,) an intellectual want, as evident as the coarsest, nec essary elements of existence. , He who betrays another's secret because he hus quarreled with him was never worthy the sacred name of friend. A breach of kindness on one side will not justify a breach of trust on the other. The sorrow of the living for the dead, the grief of a bereaved heart, the agony of a soul stricken in its ten derest affections,' is so purely personal, so impossible to be felt and understood by another, and so deep and delicate in its nature, that it evades analysis and shrieks from an attempt at palp able delineation. To those who have 'been bereft of their chosen ones, there is no expression tender enough, there is no tear sympathetic enough, there is no voice sweet enough, there is no touch skillful enough to save the wounded spirit, to woo the sorrowing .soul to peace, or waken to tones of harmony the jangled, broken cords of the heart. No wonder, then, that we Jove to lay our dead away in the love liest retreats, in enchanted grounds, and decorate their graves with what ever is most beautiful and appropriate that the earth affords. So universal is this ' sentiment, this yearning of the Etficken heart, that this burial-ground of the savage is reverenced by him, .and respected by his foes who respect naught else. Even among the least .human portion of the rauc the debased New Hollanders the burial ground is held sacred and cultivated with assid uous care and unwearied affection. There their dead sleep in unmolested repose, their gravos adorned with flowers, and strewn with the ashes of the fragrant willamboa, while the acacia gently sweeps with her golden hair the pillows of their graves. Af fection and reverence for the last resting-place of our beloved dead, whose lowly couch we expect soino day to hare, are noble and humanizing sen timents and should bb nurtured with generous assiduity. : Man's Heart. A man's heart is as .sensitive as that of a woman perhaps nora so, because it is not so quickly beating or elastic, and its emotions (Hhould be treated with due respect, young ladies should not tamper with )t, any more than men with theirs. . Some of our streets are being "fixed VP. nod we are glad to see it. It 4ees not require much labor to keep them in good order, and frequent at tention will always be found much the cheapest. 'A stitch in time you know. , , About Gikls. The best thing about a girfis cheerfulness. We don't care how ruddy her cheeks may be, or how velvety her lips, if she wears a scowl even her friends will consider her ill looking; while the young lady who illumes her countenance .. will smiles, will be1 regardecTTs handsome, though her. complexion is coarse enough to "grate nutmeg on. As perfumes is to the rose so is good nature to the love ly.' Girls, think of this. . . v - II- - f What very bad practice is a comet polity off . Tale-bearing, . VALENTLVES'SDAV. Next Monday, the 14th of February, will be the day, which from time im memorial, has been held sacred to St. Valentine. In his writings, Shakspeare alludes to this day as the one on which bi ids begin to mate, and hence we presume, arose the custom of sending tokens of love and respect on every recurrence of the occasion. We have no doubt but that Uncle Sam's mail hags will be considerably burthened by many little missives of love from one sweetheart to another for a week to come, and many a post master will find the letter box, on Monday morn ing crammed with the aforesaid doc uments. Some will bo ludicratve, yet some we suspect, will be genuine love letters, and kindle a little flame in the puro heart of some fair maiden. If we were in love we should hail the Mth as a very good and appropriate time in which to make known the tender feelings," since we know that at my other period our timidity would overawe our passion into 'conceal ment like a worm in the bud.' Sad Casuai.tv. A Mr. Reed, ma chinist in the employ of Messrs. Mo Callie, Marsh Co., at their steam Saw Mill, on last Saturday morning was caught in the machinery and in stantly killed, and what renders this casualty more distressing, is that, Mr. Reed, had a brother killed some ten days before in the railroad smash up near Winchester, whence he hud just returned from performing his brothers luueral ceremonies. Mr. Keed leaves a wife and live small children. Chut- tituoott Advertiser. 'Tis a wretched homo indeed that love cannot make attractive, cannot even beautify, to the mirtd who feels its sway. It may have a leaky roof, and no lloor in it; it may have rugged walls through which winter's chilling snow can silt; it may have a smoky chimney, and yet happiness may dwell there if love will, and joy may deeply thrill noble hearts, if love, but issues forth an sanctities the love thus cast in adversity's shadow. Wiillcn lot tlta Wimltesiwr Home Jimrnul. STANZAS. BY COL. G. L. EBKIWIAllT, OF PENS. Alb wo rt the mountain's liozy brow, Through ih ts blue ether feeri ufar, The -sun lias thrown his latest beams ltl many a sliming golden bur. The .swallows twitter neath the eaves; While from yon maple's topmost limb, In notes of full anil grateful praise, The robin pours his vesper hymn. From olT tho meadow's blooming breast A lliouxund sweetest odors rise, Ami on the sighing breeze aro borne Like ev'ning incenso to the skies. Tho streamlets, in a muffled strain, Are singing down the quiet tlells; Ami oil the trees in silence slum! Tu hear the music of their bells. Along Ohio's placid stream 1 hear St Mary's vesper bell, While cloistered nuns with mousurod tone Aro slowly chanting; "All is well." "Ah! all is well with you,' 1 cry, 'For your dear hearts know naught of core; Nor littlo reck what heaps of woe The human heart is doomed to bear." Yo little know how ruth loss grief, From out tho heart drives all its mirth, And makes it pino for "fairer worlds," Yet binds it fast to groveling oarth. Bui I will bear the cross with hope; For surely all the angels tell, That those who walk the 'paths ofpeaco' Shall weara crown, where is well." Nasuvii.lk, Tcnn. Febv. lao'J- Kr.nr thk Mouth siur di.ki.nu Colo Weather. Dr. Hall advises every person who goes into the open air from a warm apartment to keep the mouth shut while walking or ri ding. He wiys: "Before you leave the room, bundle up well gloves, cloak and comforter shut your mouth be fore you open the street door, and keep it resolutely closed until you have walked briskly for some ten minutes; then, if you keep on walking, or have reached your home, you may talk as much as you please. By not so doing, many a heart once happy and young now lies in the churchyard, that might have. been young and happy still. But how? If you keep your mouth closed and walk rapidly, the air can only reach the lungs by a cir cuit of the nose and head, and becomes warmed before reaching thu lungs. thus causting no derangement; but if you converse, large draughts of cold air rush directly in upon the lungs, chilling the whole frame almost in stantly. The brisk walking throws the. blood to the surface of the body thus keeping up a vigorous circulation and making a cold impossible, if you do not get into a cold bed too quickly after you get home. Neglect of these precautions brings sickness and pre mature death to thousands. Good Rules for Ali- Profane Ian guage is abominable. Loud laughing is impolite. Inquisitiveness is offen sive. - Tattling is mean. Telling lies is contemptible. Slandering isdevilish, Ignorance is disgraceful, and laziness shameful. Never bo ashamed of honest labor. Pride is a corse a hateful vice. Never act the hypocrite. Keep good company. Speak the truth at all times. Never be discouraged A WOMAN'S POEM. You say you love me, and you Iny Your 'hand and lortunettmy faoi; 1 thank you, Sir, with ail my heart, For love is sweet, It is but littlo to you men, To whom the doors of Life stand wide; But much, how much, to woman I She lias naught beside. You make tlio worlds wherein you move; You ruleyoui tastes, or coarse, or fine; Dine, hum, or lisli, or waste your gold At dice and wino. Our worKl(olns, you make that too !) Is narrower thut in four blank walls: Know you, or care, what light is there? What shadow falls? We rend the last new novel out, And live in dream-land till it ends: Wo write romantic school-girl notes, Thut bore our friends. We learn totrilljllaliun notes, And thrum for hours the tortured keys: We think it pleases you, and we , But live to please 1 We feed our birds, we tond our flavors, (Poor indoor things of sickly bloom!), Or pluy the housewife in ourgloves, Anil dust the room. But some of us h'ave hearts and minds? So much the worse for us and you; For grunt wu seek a better life, Whut cuu we do ? Wo can not build and sail your ships, Ordrivo your engines: we aro wouk, And ignorant of tricks of Tiade : To think and speak, Or write some earnest, staiumering'words, Alone is ours, and that you hale; So forced within ourselves again, Wo sigh and wait. Ah ! who can toll the bitter hours, The dreary days that women spend? Their thoughts unshared, their lives un known, Without a friend ! Without a friend? And what is he, Who, like u shadow, day ana1 night, Follows the woman he prefers ? Lives in her sight? 1 Her lover, he: a gallant mau, Devoted to her every whim ; He vows lo die lor her, so she Must live for him ! We should be very grateful, Sir, That, when you've nothing else lo do, You waste your idle tours on us : So kind ol you : Profuse in studied compliments, Your manners, like your clothes, aro tine, Tho' both, at times, aro somewhat strong Of smoke and wine ! What can wo hopo to know of you ? Or you of us? We act our parts: . We love in jest : it is the play Of hands, not hearts ! You grant my bitter words are true Of others, nut of you and iiu : Your love is steady us a star; U nl we shall sec. 'ou say you love me: have you thought How much these little words contain .' Alas ! a world of happiness, Am. worlds ol pain ! Y'ou know, or should, your nature now, Its needs ami passions. Can I be What you dusire me? Do you find Your all in me? You do. Iiut have you thought that I .May have vuj ways and luncies, too? You love me; well, but have you ihoughl If 1 lovo you? But think again. You know me not: 1, loo, may be a butterfly, A costly parlor doll, on show For you to buy ' You trust me wholly? Ono word more. You see me young: they call mo fair: Think 1 have a pleasant lucu, And pretty hair I But, liy and-hy, my faco will fade; It muni with time, it may with care: What sayyuu to a wiiukled wile, With thin, gray hair? You care not, you : in youth, or age, Your heart is mine, while life endures . Is'tso? Then, Arthur, here's my hand, Aly heart is yours. THE DESERTED WIFE. BY JAMES O. PKCIVAL. A Gem. The following, is one of the most touching poems in the English Ian g u a go. It moreover tells the story of many a broken heart: Ho conies not I have watched the moon go down, And yet he comes not. Once it wasnot so, He thinks not how the bitter tears do (low Tho while lie holds his riot in the town. Yet he will come and chide, arid I shall woop, And he will wake my infant from its sleep, To blend its (eoldo wailing wilh my toars. Oh! how I love a mother's watch to keep, Over those sleeping eyes; that smilo which cheers I My heart, though sunk in sorrow thick and deep: I ha I a husbandonce, who loved me now He ever wean a frown upon his brow; And feeds his passion on a wanton lip, As bees from laural flowers a poison tip. But yet I cannot hate. 0! there were hours When I could hang forever on liis eye, And time, who stole with silent witness by, Strewed, ei ha hurried on, his path with flowers. I loved him then he loved me, too. My heart Still finds its fondness kindle if ha smile; The memory otour loves will ne'er depart; And though ho often sling me with a dart. Venomed and barbed, and waste upon the vile Cresei which hit babe and rains should share, Though he should spurn me I will calmly bear Ilia msdness, and should sickness coma and lay Its paralysing hand upon him, then I would with kindnenall my wrong repay, Until the penitent should weep, and say How injured aud how faithful 1 had been. .'0h why should man's success remove The vary eh a r mi that waks bis lots." . MAKE A GOOD START. . . A person's success in life, after all, depends very much upon tho start which he makes. The lirst half mile has often told the story of victory or defeat.1 So life's early morning has often been the truthful harbinger of many a life history. Not always does that dashing course who fur outstrips his fellows for tho lirst hatl'of the race, gain the trophies of victory neither does that favored child of fortune, whose coders overflow with' wealth, which other hands have earned, al- ways know best how to set about the fulfilment of his mission, On the contrary, we fur more fre quently see those who have been forced to struggle against adverse cir cumstances, and woik their own way through childhood and youth, earn their own bread get thc.r own edu cation and lay tin; foundation Sor their own fortune, rising, and still ri sing, until they far eclipse others who have boon fairly surfeited with the good things of life. How encourag ing then to every young man, is the thought, that energy, self dependance, and high resolve are the sure touch stones to wealth, to eminence and to fame. Make, then, a good start in life, bo courageous, be persevering, and success will be most certainly your abundant reward. vcrtiscr. Chattamw'd ad- A PROF. ON A LADDER. In a flourishing College of well earned repute, there chanced to bo one of those sneaking, prying, inquisi tive, meddling sort of personages, who by dint of their extreme conscientious ness and deep piety, managed to get tin; sage tille of Professor, and at tho same time gained the ill-will and ha tred of the entire collegiate fraternity. Now, the, Prot.'s, ever watchful eye had long been on the alert, to detect and bring into judgment a couple of halo fellows well met, concerning whom ho had strong suspicious for his delicate olfactories had detected the flavor of old cogniac while in close conversation, and with his ear at the key hole, he had heard the shuflle of cards; he was.wc of all of this, but yet lacked the positive proof. It so hap pened that a painter's ladder had been left poised jtist below their window, which was in the third story. A very sagacious thought struck the l'rof. and he neither slumbered nor slept. ' About midnight when all was still tho l'rof. went out to take observa tions sure enough there was a dim light plainly visible in the fated room. Resolved now on a glorious revelation, he cautiously draws olfhis boots, and slowly ascends the ladder. lie litis gotten to the topmost round, and his head is just peering above the open casement. There they are the cul prits, with their Champaign and cards, having a glorious time over a game of old sledge. Quick as thought the light was. ex tinguished, and in a trice four stalwart hands are firmly clinched to the ladder below. "You sneaking, mean, cave (hoping puppy, what on earth arc you about up there, trying to commit bur glary at this time of night? your time has come" and they began to shake the ladder furiously from below. 'Oh no, no, you mistake me I'm l'rof. IJ. don't, " l'rof. II! hush your lying mouth, Prof. 15. wouldn't be guilty of such a mean low-down trick can't fool us you're obliged to go, ladder and all," tind again they shake and sweep the poor culprit through the air. ,-0!i you will kill me, do let me olf, I'll do any thing." "Ho anything then promise that you'll never be guilty of such a mean, low-down, trick again and as a pledge, that you'll come in and take a good drink, and agmneof wki.it, bluA and we'll let you off." The l'rof. prom ised all this and much more, and faith ful to his vow, went in and pledged it in a good bumper after getting him comfortable tight they put him to bed. l'rof was never known to go up a painter's ladder after that. A.v Ei.oqlt.mt Tiioi'biit. Death still lays us in the grave, but it cannot chain us to everlasting fogctfulness. It puts its cold hand upon every one of us, but a power higher than death will lift it olf, and these forms be again reanimated with all the warmth of life and sentiment. The churchyard has llMPll culled the land of silence (and silent it is indeed to them who occupy it;) the Sabbath bell is no longer nearu nnr vit the tread of the livinsr nonula- tion above them; but though remote from the hearing of every earthly sound, yet shull , the sound of the last trumpet enter the loneliness of their dwelling, and bo heard through earth's remotest caverns. Chalmers. "We wont indulge in such' horrid anticipations," as the hen pecked hus band said, when the parson told him he would be joined to his wife in an other world never to be scperated from her. , f .T- - A young physician asked permission of a lady lo ki bctt sb replied, MNo sir; I sever Jike to hare ; doctor't bill thrust io roy face." .v 's - P V THAT MOUSTACHE. BY A IADT, Oh, barber, spare that young moustache! Touch not a single hair, Your razor, brush and other trash, Must uovor venture there. At last tho bud has bursted out, By much caressing taught, lis frail young tendrils how they spout, Then, barber, touch it not. Though well laid out, and wide the field, Whenco this young moustache shoots, This oickly soil no more can yield, Oh! then guurd well those roots; For should thy murderous blade sweep o'er That curved lip's snowy mist, Tho tender plants would bloom no more; Thon, burbur, oh! desist. Think of tho fair young girl whose lip Was wont so o(t to press That budding mouth, its sweots to sip Oh! think of her distress. 'Tis unfledged manhood's ptido and joy; With sighs and tears 'twas brought; Let no rudu stroke its life destroy Oh! barber, touch it not or Till BOARD OF TRUSTEES II THK Vaii-cmity of the South, HI 'IIIR SOUTHERN DIOCESES. In reference to lis Choice of the Kile fur the I nlverslly. The Board of Trustees of the Uni versity of tho South, during its recent meeting at the Uiirsheba Springs, Ten nessee, having reatlirmed with great unanimity the decision come to at Montgomery, Alabama, in November, 1857, selecting, as the site of the Uni versity, that portion of tho Cumber laud plateau called Scwanee, and hav ing finally settled the question of lo cation, tho undersigned have been ap pointed a Committee to set forth the reasons which led to that decision, and to furnish the Dioceses interested in this matter tho fullest information as to tho geographical position and positive advantages of this locality. 'The selection of Scwanee as the site of our projected Institution, was not made, in the lirst instance, with out the matures! deliberation. At the meeting held in July, 1857, at the Lookout Mountain, a Committee of Location was appointed, consisting of one Trustee from each Diocese, whose business it was made to examine all the suggested localities and to report to a meeting to bo held at Montgom ery in November, 1857, with the full understanding that the Board would then and there decide this important question of location. Having exam ined personally such proposed sites as their other duties would permit, the Committee of location requested Col. Wai.tuu Owvnn, of the Blue llidge Hail Road, to organize a corps of civil engineers, with instructions to exam ine minutely every locality which might desire to present its claims, and called attention, through a series of questions prepared with great judg ment by its Chairman, to the points deemed most important in the settle ment of the question. To the meet ing held in Montgomery, in Novem ber, 1857, this Corps of Engineers re ported in full, laying before the Board accurate, because scientific, informa tion upon all the points material to a final judgment in the premises. Gen tlemeri sent up as delegates from these respective localities were examined minutely as to their healthfulness. their accessibility, climate, water, building materials, and centrality. Advocates from each locality were heard in detail and were permitted to enter as fully as they pleased into tho meritsl their favorite sites. When these examinations were ended, such of the Trustees as desired to speak, were heard before the Board. It was then resolved that no locality should be selected which did not receive the vote of two-thirds of each order, the order of Bishops aud the order of cler ical and lay Trustees. After a long balloting, not unaccompanied by pray er for the Divine guidance, Sewanec was selected as combining more ad vantages than any locality which had been examined. Under these circum stances it was neither a hasty nor im pulsive decision to which tho Board came at Montgomery, and subsequent investigation and persoual examina tion have confirmed those who voted for it in the first instance and have re moved the objections of some who then voted against it. Wo feel confi dent that Sewanee only needs a per sonal inspection to satisfy most mind (bat it has been well and judiciously chosen for its purpose. The selection of the site for the pro posed University mast be considered in connection with the objects, which the Southern Dioceses had in view in in its establishment. .Apart from these, it might not be easy to prove thnt it was the fittest locality, but in conjunction with them, it will be found to unite more completely than any other1, all the requirement of sucna scheme For this is not the fort of a single Diocese, but tho con centration of the patronage of ten Dioceses extending from the Southern line of Kentucky and Virginia to the Western limits of Texas and Arkan- . ... . r 1.1. sas. Any locality, ttiereiorc, vvnicn would give anything like general sat' isfaction, must occupy a central posi tion, inclining as much as possible to wards tho West, since that is the only direction in which this confederation of Dioceses cm ever extend itself. This limited the Trustees, of course, to a certain range of country, outside of which it would have been a waste of time to have examined and consid ered any locality. But it was like wise essential that the selection should be made from that portion of tho cen tre of these Dioceses which should of fer undoubted healthfulness upon a soil furnishing abundant supplies of freestone water, which should afford ensy communication with all parts of the confederation, and which should be surrounded by a farming country providing the necessaries of life in any quantity and at a moderate expense. These requirements still further lim ited the choice of tho Trustees, and confined them within an area extend ing from Atlanta, Georgia, to McMinn villi , Tennessee, as its Eastern and Western limits, and from Knoxville to Iluntsville, Alabama, as its Northern and Southern limits, Within these boundaries the choice must be made or else there would bo dissatisfaction and unsuitableness. There was yet another point to be considered, connected with the social life of the South, which demanded attention in the settlement of this question. Our citizens have, for the most part, made the summer months their period of travelling, either for pleasure or business. During these hot months their plantations and even their city homes are deserted and they are scattered all the world over, from our own local Springs to Saratoga, Newport, Paris, Koine and Naples. At this season it is inconvenient for them to have their sons returned upon their hands. They do not wish to in troduce them, at that immature period of life, to the dissipated society of wa tering places, and when they return, during vacations, from College, they desire to have them at home. For the South, the proper vacation of an University is the winter; that season when our planters and merchants and professional men are surrounded by their families upon their homesteads; when the cheerful Christmas lire is burning on the hearth, and mothers and sisters and servants can receive the returning student to his home, and revive within him that holy domestic feeling which may have decayed amid the scholastic insolation of a College; when he can engage in the sports which make him a true Southern man, hunting, shooting, riding: when he can mingle freely with the slaves who are in the future to be placed under his management and control. That a literary institution may give the stu dent these precious months, it must be placed where the climate will permit him to apply himself during tho hot months of summer, where intellectu al labor will not be a burden, where cool nights and mornings will restore the energies which have flagged un der close application. This condition o( things could only be secured upon some lofty table land, which should protrude itself into the centre of tho Cotton growing region and be happi ly surrounded by all the other require ments of a large institution. This consideration, therefore, forced the the choice of the Board within still narrower limits. But there was likewise another point to be weighed, the question of social intercourse of the Professors and Students likely to be assembled at such a point. Could we have found within these limits a city of from fifty to one hundred thousand inhabitants, combining with the refinement of large towns tho facilities which cities afford for the conduct of life, and offer ing the University undoubted health fullness, the Board would probably not have hesitated in selecting that as the best location for the Universi ty. But no such city offered itself, and tho question was left to be deci ded between the neighbourhood of a small town or the creation of a social atmosphere of its own around the University. When it was reduced to this alternative there was bu J'"'8 hesitation about th decision. lh Board almost unanimously agreed that it would I preferable- to create societr around the University which should receive its tone from tho Uni versity. an' he in measure depen Cent upon the University..-. To' make this matter of easy performance. soma locality must be selected which should eombine attractive scenery and picturesque variety with a temperate summer climate. If these could be found in conjunction with accessibili ty, with an abundance of water, with good building materials, and surroun ded by a farming country affording in plenty tho necessaries of life, the Board concluded that it should have met with the locality which its cir cumstances demanded. All those things are combined in tho location which tho Board has cho sen at Sewanec. It lies within the limits to which tho Board was circum scribed by the primary action of tho Bishops at Philadelphia, being neither so far West as McMinnville, nor so South as Iluntsville. It stands upon tho elevated plateau of the Camber land Mountain, about 1000 feet above tho level of the ooean, possessing a climate equivalent to that of Flat llock in North Carolina. It is above the level of all intermittent disease, mid is abundantly blessed with the purest water flowing from under the sandstone capping of the Cumberland Kidge. It is covered thickly with ex cellent timber, oak, chesnut, and wal nut. It has all over it tho very best building stone and can command, by easy approach, the limestones and marbles in which Tennessee abounds. It has coal mines at its very door, opened at great cost by a wealthy company of New York, providing fuel at very reasonable rates. There lies at its foot, connected with it by Rail lload, one of the richest farming coun tries of tho West. Nothing is want ing to render it every way suitable to our purpose, and there can be no ob jections to it except they are from its being a mountain location, or from inaccessibility, or from disease. When a lowlander hears of a moun tain location, he at onco conceives of a lofty peak, covered over with rugged rocks, whose summit is to be reached by a severe and toilsome labor. Was this conception of his correct, he would be right in arguing that it was unwise to place an University in such a position. But the Cumberland pla teau docs not answer iu any particu lar to this conception. It is not a se ries of tugged peaks, but a wide ta ble land, having upon its summit a. level area of from two to twenty miles in width, upon which a Rail Road is now running for fifteen miles, and might be extended for a hundred: upon which stage roads are made as smooth and easy of grade ns any in the mid dle counties of South Carolina or Georgia; upon which farms, county towns and watering places are' loca ted, and which is as well timbered as any part of the country except tho heavy river swamps. This plateau is reached by an easy ride of half an hour upon a Railroad built in the most substantial manner and laid with a T rail, which traverses the whole extent of the University lands. In addition to this R iil Road, the citizens of Frank lin county, which lies at the base of the lands upon which the University is to stand, have guaranteed the building of a Turnpike from some point on the Chattanooga and Nashville Rail Road to the site of tho University, so that we shall be connected with the low lands at our base by both Rail and Turnpike, giving the University the fullest scope lor the eas;-procurement of all its supplies. When this sum mit has been reached, there spreads out before the eye an ar:a with just enough undulation to make it pictur esque, covered wilh large timber, with a rich underbrush of grass, and with springs of freestone water yielding four hundrod, rive hundred, and in one case one thousand gallons of wa ter per hoar. From this summit the visitor is delighted with scenes of un surpassed beauty, with points of the mountain tunning in fantastic shapes into the valleys, like promontories into the ocean, with wooded slopes stretch ing down into the cultivated lands and mingling the wildness of nature with the improvements of man, with fat valleys rich in the bounties of Pror idencc, with an almost boundless hori zon spreading away towards the far West. And thene views vary at a hundred points of the University land, for it is the peculiarity of this sand stone formation to break into gorges and to open up new scenery at every turn. The soil too is capable of pro ducing the very best vegetables, spe cimens of which were submitted to our inspection and which might bear comparison with any in our City mar kets. ., ... This Cumberland plateau" seems to have been formed by God for the ben efit and blessing of the Valley of the Mississippi and the cotton growing re gions of the Southern States. Form ing the Eastern limit of that imiaen valley, stretching, with this jnuif formation of a sandetaW lM-Jano for oae hondreJ IJe ! 'IS : I, I I if 1