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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
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