The Texan Mercury. (Seguin, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 7, Ed. 1 Saturday, October 29, 1853 Page: 1 of 4

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H. T. BURKE, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR
SE&TJIN, GUADALUPE COUNTY, OCTOBER 29, 185-3.
VOLUME ONE—NUMBER VII.
.OPINION OP DUELLING.
•'•"OR BY SIR WALTER RALJU6H.
From this beginning is derived a challenge
of combat, grounded upon none of those occa-
sions that trefe known to 'the Ancient. For,
the Honour of Nations, the ^Tryal of Right,
the Wager apon Champions, or the Objection
and Refutation of capital offences, are none of
tbe , nor all of them together, the argument of
half so many Duels, as are found upon meer
JiWnte Ang*r, yea, or upon matter seeming
of auger in the opinion of the Duellists.
So ***** in these daies, wherein every man takes
nato himself a Kingly liberty "to offer, accept,
and appoint personal combats, the giving of the
W be the.Negation only in
, is become the most fruitful
fete is held a word
. ad terrible, and wrong so unpardonable, as
will so other recompence, than the, blood
of hüa thst gives it. Thus the fashion, taken
iq> ia hatffe by the French Gentlemen, after
thefir King, is groWh to be a cus-
toms: Wkrtt we have derivad a kind of Art
with certain grounds
the points of honour,
tbe dependencies thereof, axe' reduced.
Yea, there are (among^many no less ridiculous)
noaie so herein, as that it is
held a fcr «Kttter dishonour, to>eceive from an
«aemy a «tight touch with a Cane, than a sound
blow with * Sorted; the-one having relation to
a,tfa*e, theother to asouldier* I confess that
diocrity between doubting and daring. Sicut
non Martyrem paena; sic nec fortem pugna, sed
causa: As it is not the punishment that makes
the Martyr: So it is not fighting that declares
a valian^ man: but fighting m a good cause.
In whick whosoever shall resolvedly end his
life, resolvedly in respect of the cause, to-wit;
in defence Of his Prince, Religion or Country:
As he may justly be numbered among the Mar-
tyrs of Qod; so may those that die with ma-
licious hearts, in private combats, be called the
Martyrs of the Devil. Neither do we indeed
take our own revenge, or punish the injuries
offered us, by the death of the injurious. For
the true conquest of revenge is, to give him of
whom we would be revenged, Cause to repent
m: And not to lay the repentance of another
man's death upon our own consciences; Ani-
masq, in vulnere ponere; And to drown our
souls in the wounds and blood of onr enemies.
Hereupon you will again ask me, if I condemn,
in generous and noble spirits, the defence of
their honours, being prest with 'injuries? I say
that I do not, if the injuries be violent. For
the Law of Nature, which is a branch of the
i,
Eternal Law: And the Laws of all Christian
Kings and States; do favour him that is assailed,
in the slaughter of the assailant. You will sec-
ondly ask me, Whether a Noble-man or a Gen-
tleman, being challenged by Cartel by one. of
like quality, be not bound in point of honour to
satúffie the challenger in private combat? I an-
swer that he is not: Because (omitting the
la pretty? Though for my own j greatest, which is the point of Religion) the
aap such Italianated enemy in j point of the Law is directly contrary and oppo-
tiaavl should willingly have made with i site to that, which they call the point of hononr;
and gave him the* point
the offence
with their con-
trail other the most
I say, that the most of
1 on the points of their
it them ; use nothing so
ion and course of Efe,
falsely. Yea, it is there-
and shuffle in the World,
^Forlpow few are. there among
aammed and sworn to pay
things ' they borrow, do
not break their'Word and promise, as often as
they engage it? Nay, how few are there among
than, that are not %yars by Record, by being
sued in some Court or othér of Jnstiee, upon
bleach-ef word or bond? For he which hath
promised that he w31 pay money by a day, or
promised any filing else, wherein he faileth;
hath directly lied to him to whom the promise
hath been made. Nay, what ip the profession
of kwa that men mal™ now-a-daies? What is' detesteth miyrder) that hath declared against
the tMhe off their service, and of -all they'a common Cut-purse or other Thieves: Nay, let
hare, «led in their ordinary complements, and it be granted that a pardon be procured for such
(in effect) to every man whom they bid not offenders; yet it is not the man:slayer freed
from his pardon. For these two remedies hath
the party grieved notwithstanding; that, is„ to
require justice by grand Assize, or by battle,
upon his appeal, which (saith Sir Thomas
Smith) is not denyed, and he further saith (for
I use his own words) That if the Defendant
(to-wit, the man-slayer) be convinced either by
great Assize or by Battle, upon that appeal;
the man-slayer shall die notwithstanding the^
Princes pardon. . So favourable (saith the same
learned Gentleman) «re <far Princes, and the
Law of our Realm, to justice and to the punish-
ment of blood violently shed. It may further
be demanded, who our Noble-men and Gentle-
men shall be repaired in honour, where an ene-
my, taking the start either in words or blows
shall lay on them an infamy insufferable: I say
The Law, which hath dominion over it; which
can judge it, which can destroy it; except you
will stile those Acts honourable, where the
Hang-man gives the Garland. For seeing the
Laws of -this Land have appointed the Hang-
man to second the Conqueror, and the Laws of
God appointed the Devil to second the Con-
quered, dying in malice: I say that he is both
base and a fod^, that accepts of any Cartel so
accompanied. '
To this, perchance ft will be answered, That
the Kings of England and other Christian
Kings, have seldom taken any such advantage
over men of quality, who upon even terms have
slain their private enemies. It is true, that as
in times of trouble and combustion they have
not often done it; so did our Noble-men and
Gentlemen in former ages; in all important in-
juries, sue unto the King, to approve themselves
by battle and publift combat. For as they
dared not ta brave the l^aw; so did they dis-
dain to submit themselves unto the shameful
revenge thereof; the same revenge (because it
TO A BLANK SHEET OF PAPER.
o
by outer wexdell holmes. t
Wan-risaged thing! thy virgin leaf
To me looks more than deadly pale,
Unknowing what may stain thee yet—
t
A poem or a tale.
?AVho can thy unborn meaning scan?
?Can seer or sibyl read thee now?
No—seek to trace the fate of man
"Writ on his infant brow.
Love may light on thy snowy cheek,
And shake his Edcn-breathing plumes;
Uhen shalt thou tell how Lelia smiles,
Or Angelina blooms.
.Satire may lift his barbed lance,
Forestalling Time's slow-moving scythe.
✓
And, scattered on thy little field,
Disjointed bards may writhe.
Perchance a vision of the night,
Some grizzled spectre, gaunt and thin,
Or sheeted corpse, may stalk along,
Or skeleton may grin!
If it should be in pensive hopr,
Some sorrow-moving theme I try,
Ah, maiden, how thy tears will fall,
For all I doom to die!
t i • \
But if in merry mood I touch
Thy leaves, then shall the sight t>f thee
Sow smiles as thick on rosy lips
As ripples on the sea.
The weekly prfss shall gladly stoop
To bind thee up among its sheaves;
The daily steal thy shining ore,
To gild its leaden leaves.
1
Thou hast no tongue, yet thou canst speak,
Till distant shores shall hear the, sound;
Thoa hast nc¡ life, yet thoa canst breathe
Fresh life on all around.
Thoa art the arena of the wise,
< The noiseless battle-ground of fame;
The sky where halos may be wreathed
, Aroünd the humblest name.
Take, then, this treasure to thy trust, -
: To win some idle reader's smile,
Then jade and moulder in the dost,,
Or swell some bonfire's crackling pile!
good-morrow,, or salute, other than a courteous
and Court-tike kind of lying? It is (saith a
wiae Frtach man, deriding therein the Apish
cnstome off his country) unv marche & comploit
fait ensemble, se moquer, mentar, & piper les
un les antra;; A kind of merchandize, and.c6m-
plot made among themj to mock, belye, and de-
ride each otter: Ami so fas now-a-daies in fash-
ion and in ose, a* he that useth it not, is ac-
eite dull or Cynical. XVue it is not-
(omittin^ the old distinction) that
there iá great difference between these mannerly
and eomptemental lyes, with tboae whieh «re
sometimes perswaded by necessity upoq breach
of promise; and those which men nsj oat of
eowardize and fear; the latter confessing them-
•efeFce to be in greater awe of men than of God;
safcgect of aftov deadly quarrels in effect, to it
Isay, That whosoever giveth another man the
Lye, when it hi manifest that he hath lyed, doth
hi—rif no wrong at aH; neither ought it to be
«noce hainousiy taken, than to tell him, he hath
broken any promise which he hath otherwise
made. For he that promiseth any thing, tells
him, to whan he hath promised, that hp will
■m ' i. ' * • . . . . .
it; and, in not performing it,' he had
"a Lyar. On the other side, He
the Lye, when he himself
knowvthat he, to whom it i& given, hath not
lyed; doth therein give the Lye directly to him-
And what canse have I, if I say that the
it doth shine, and that another
tells me I lye, for it's midnight, to prose-
; an one to death, for making himself a
Ruffian anda lyar in his own knowledge?
that gives the Lye in any other dispote,
¡n defcnóe of his Loyalty, or Life; give& it
itly, and Ruffian-like. I will not deny
an extream rudeness to tax any man in
with an untruth (if it be not pernicious,
to this prejudice against whom the untrnth
is ottered:) Bat all that is rude, ought not to
be civilized with death. That were more to
ndmsre and imitate a French custome, and a
wicked one, than to admire and follow the
council of God.
But you wiH say, that these discourses savor
of eowardias. It is true; if you call it coward-
iaetofear God or hell: Whereas he that is
traly wise, aad truly valiant, knows that there
is nothing else to be feared. For against an
Eaemiesswortl, we shall find ten thousand seven
(waged at that price .in the wars)
it as little,, or perchance less, than any
in the world. Diligentissima
in tutela sui Fortitndio ; fortitnde ¡£ a diligent
of itself. It js (saith Ari>tot/c) a me
Ml-
ghrkeof aH other stiled the most viOanous. i that a Marshals Court will easily give satisfac-
itself, as it is made the tion in both. And if we hold it no disgrace to
submit ourselves for the recovery of our Debts,
Goods, and Lands, and for all things else by j
which the lives of ourselves, our wives, and
children, are sustained, to the Judges of the;
Law;, because it may be felony to take by vio-
lence even that which is our own: Why should
we not submit ourselves unto the Judges of
honour in cases of honour; because to recover
our reputation by strong hand may be murder?
But yet again it may be objected, that the loss
of hononr ought to be much more fearful unto'
us, than either the loss of our goods, of our
lauds, or of our lives; and I say so too. But
what is this honour, I mean hononr indeed, and
that which ought-to be so dear unto us: otirer
than a kind of History, or fame following ac-
tions of vertue, actions accompanied with diffi-
culty or danger and undertaken for the pnblick
good? In these he that is imployed and trusted,
if he fail in the performance, either through eow-
ardize, or any other base affection; it is true
that he loseth his honour. But the acting of a
private combat, for a private respect, and most
commonly a frivolous one, is not an action of
vertue, because it iá contrary to the Law of
God, and of all Christian Kings: Neither is it
difficult, because even and equal in persons and
■ms: Neither for publick good, but tending to
the contrary, because the loss or mutilation of
an able man, is also a loss to the Commonweal.
Second Love.—" Do you believe in second
love, Mr. M'Quade?"
" Do I believe in second love? Hnmph! if a
man buys a pound of sugar Isn't it sweet? and
when it's gone don't he want anothtr pound?
and isn't that sweet too? Troth, Murphy, I
believe in second love."
If nobody takes notion of our faults, we easily
forget them ourselves. •
On the Art of Making thf Amiable.—
Youth, the age of love, is also the age of expe-
rience—when the eyes and the ears do duty for
reasoning and judgement—when the man of
pleasing manners and polished exterior is mis-
taken for the man of excellent disposition—when
the cardinal virtues are thought to be sheltered
under the bows and graces of good 'breeding,
and bright Honor herself to reside amid white
waistcoats and kid gloves; when the learned or
talented are voted bores, and smatterers, or
small talkers, declared to be learned.
Therefore, O ye makers of, love, gild your-
selves well over with what is called " a pleasing
exterior," even if within you be as mere ginger-
bread.
Having put on the outward visible signs of
amialylity, the (inward and spiritual graces may
be made to shine sufficiently bright to dazzle the
eyes of most' damsels by strict attention to one
golden rule:
Always place yourself on a level with your
chosen fair in intellect, and below her in all else.
Never be wiser or more clever, always bé less ac-
complished. On no account, conquer at chess or
cards: if you can manage to cheat yourself for
fear you should win, do so. Be careful not to
offer the shadow of dissent to any thing she
says, unless it be some glaring absurdity; such
as praising Bulwer's novels for their morality.
Should you, however, have occasion to disagree
with what she advances, the utmost tfact must
be called up to conceal the flat contradiction
under gossamer wings of a delicate difference of
opinion. Of this sort of tact, Don Quixote
supplies one of the best examples I can call to
mind:
The princess Micomicona having fallen into
an egregious geographical blunder abont a sea-
port, the knight-errant, not to correct her too
coarsely, simply opined that it wonld have been
much better if her ladyship, after a long voyage,
had not landed at Ossuara, " seeing that it was
an inland town."
Whenever there are opportunities, a little
quizzing will, in most instances, have a desirable
effect; especially if the quizzed be a "particular
friend" of the belle yon are addressing, who will
most likely convert all that is said against another
into compliments on herself. Custom has insti-
tuted several topics of conversation to be carried
on by persons who have met for the first time,
which tend very materially toward playing the
amiable. The first information to get possession
of is, some hint of the lady's tastes. Therefore it
has been wisely ordained, wherever two individ-
uals of opposite sexes are standing side by. side,
that,during the pauses of " the figure," or other-
wise, the gentleman shall ask the lady if she be
fond of dancing; the reply will be, "Yes,
very," for it is known to be an unvarying rule
that all young ladies are fond of dancing. That,
therefore affords no clue, nor indeed much sub-
ject to converse; hence another question succeeds,
"Are you fond of music?" Answer, "Yes."
Why is a man who regularly attends church
on the Sabbath like an United States' vessel?
Why because he is a man-of-war-ship, ('man
of worship.)
Laconics.—Poetry is the interpreter of the
soul, and translates all thought into one lan-
guage. While we eat the fruits of Autumn, it
reminds us of the blossoms of Spring; and when
we inhale the odorous breath of ]fray, it foretells
the frost of December, It makes the marble of
the sculptor breathe—the canvass of the painter
speak—and the anvil of the artizan ring a chime.
It is a handmaid of Religion; the rose in the
wreath of the bridal, and the chaplet of the
dead—Jhe mirth and music of the marriage, and
the awe and silence of the burial. It is the
voice, of Peace—the song of. Love—and the
fjgh of Sorrow. It sparkles in the smile of hope,
Mid glitters in the tear of regret. It is seen in
the downcast eyes of modesty, or the ingenuous
expression of manhood. It is heard in the song of
a robin—seen in the shape of a dove—or felt
iu the down of a swan. It is the truly beautiful,
and the beautiful Truth. * •
Knowledge is the lantern of life, and wisdom
the light it sheds; within its rays we can explore
the universe, for the further we travel with it the
brighter it shines.
In the morning of life we journey toward the
sun, and our shadows fall behind us; yet, there
comes upon us, unaware, a noon of life-r-a brief
meridian of its day, and théncjeforth all these
shadows lie before us on our paths, and lengthen
as our days decline.
Youth leaves us at the door of Wisdom with
the jingling of the bells on Folly's cap still ring-
ing in onr ears; yet, grown-up. children t*hat we
are, with reluctant steps we place our feet on
manhood's threshhold, and often cast a longing
eye behind, regretting some worn-out bauble that
has beguiled us of our time. ,
Iu health the sands of the hour-glass fall to
the rapid measure of a song of joy; but when
disease hath chained us to a couch of pain, they
drop with a solemn chronicle of time; and, fall-
ing from onr reach, but mock us as we stoop to
stay them.
Reminiscences are the evergreens amid the
withered leaves in the vase of Memory.
Flowers, like earthly friendships, fade, and are
replaced by others; we often find that those, of
both, we most would cherish, are withered in our
keeping.
The wound a thorn has made in our flesh can
be easily héaled when the thorn has been with-
drawn; but the wound of unkind words rankles
in the bosom long after it has been forgotten by
thoione who spoke it.
Truth is the torch of History; and he who
would wrife for posterity—in prose or verse—
must illumine every page with records which
reflect its light.
REMEMBER, OR FORGET.
[you may begin at line i, or xvi.]
Without one vivid hope or fear,
Serenely, day by day.
With little joy, but still less care.
I feel life pass away.
These lines may oft my name recall.
Yet much it matters not
If I shall be by thee, by all,
Remembered or forgot.
Thine eyes are bright, thy smile is sweet.
And, seated by thy side,
Upon their course on wings more fleet
The hours seem to glide
And, when I go. 'tis with a sigh
Of light, but true regret.—
These are my claims on memory,—
Remember, or forget.
Beautiful Extract.—Stand, O man! upon
the hill top—in the stillness of the evening hour
—and gaze not with joyous, but with contented
eye, upon the beautiful world around! See
where the mists, soft and dim, rise over the green
meaciows, through which the rivulet steals its
way! See where, broadest and stillest, the
waves expand to the full smiles of the setting
sun—and the willow thht trembles on the breeze
—and the oak that stands firm in the storm, are
reflected back, peaceful both, from the clean
glass of the tides. See where, begir£. by the
harvest and backed by the pomp of a thousand
groves—the roofs of the town bask noiseless in
the calm glow of the* sky. JCot a sound from
those abodes float in discord to thine ear—only
from the church-tower, soaring high above the
rest, perhaps faintly heard through the stillness,
swells the note of the holy bell. Along the
mead, low skims the swallow—on the wave, the
silver circulet, breaking into spray, shows the
sport of the fish. See the earth, how serene,
though all eloquent of activity and life! See
the heavens how benign, though dark clouds by
yon mountain blend the purple with the gold!
Gaze contented, for good is around thee—^not
joyous, for evil is the shadow of good. Let
thy soul pierce through the vale of the senses,
and thy sight plunge deeper than the surface
which gives delight to thine eye. Below the
glass of that river,, the pike darts on his prey;
the circle in the wave, the soft plash amo^g the
reeds, are but the sounds of destroyer and Victim.
In the ivy round the oak by the margin, the owl
The Power of Music.—Music exerts a sin-
gular iufluence over the minds of men, but per-'
haps over no man did it exert sach a gingqlMr
influence as Martin Luther. One striking peca-
lianty of his character was his wijmhy mm)
enthusiastic love of music. Xot that there
abstractly any thing remarkable in such a pas-
sion! but iu him it had a singular effect-^-eon-
trasting ¡strikingly with the bold and
qualities of his nature. He had
car for harmony, and by no
on several instruments. He had aleo a hrautifil
voice, which he constantly kept ia order b/ tho
chanting of hymns aud secular «"«y Tho
principles of church music he stadied profoundly
—and he composed several pieces of great
merit. But the most, striking thing about hfk
musical character Was the power which jnfljirjj'
liad over himself. He seemed arel ted and imbdnrd
into a state of almost helplenaess hy its totfe
Amid their influenced, all other faculties of body
and mind appeared suspended—he was in a state
of ecstatie rapture. In letters which he wrofe
to Linecins, we find him jesting aboot his extreme
susceptibility, which he conaidein.a weakness ia
his character.—-[Scientific American. * '
The Passion Flower.—The following inter-
pretation of this justly celebrated and
admired flower will not be found
especially to the fair devotees of
léaves resemble the spear that
Saviour's side; the tendrils—-the cords
his hands, or the whip that
ten petals—the apostles, Judas I
and Peter deserted; the pflUtts in 1
the cross or tree; the
the styles—the nails; the inner circle
centre pillar—the crown of thorns;
—the glory; the white in the
emblem of purity; -•pnd the bine
Heaven. On one species, the
even drops of blood are seén
tree. This flower continues
and then disappears, thus
tion.—[Nqw Haven Herald.
->-v
j* <
Sympathy.—It is a mistaken
ness and stoicism are inseparab
regard for the feefings r^jd interests
is weak and unmanly. heart
pathy claims greater affinity with the
the man. Show me the man, who is
of the feelings of his friends or
has no tear to drop with his
sonal or family peace, who
fines his sympathies within the
own successes, and I will show yen such
is hardly worthy to hold aJ
creatures.
hungers for the night, Miieh shall give its beak
and its talons food for its young; and the spray i tnne or ^ a
of the willow trembles with the wing of the red- the heart he ha8
breast; whose bright eye sees the worm on the '
,, .A , , x . sod. Canst thou count, too, O man, all the
Memory sits at the fireside, and restores the „ .. ,, , ' ,
, . i* . .i , . ,' a, , í cares—all the sifts—that those noiseless roof-
absent lmks in the chain of love. She hangs t. 19 T*r-.. . , .
, . , . . . , t .. u .lL ® tops conceal? With every curl of that smoke
her fadeless stars m the dim twilight of the past, , ,, , , ., * , , ,
, ... , j o-, , , ' i to the sky, a human thought soars as dark, a
and with her warder, Suence, goes back withi, , ., ,T- . , '
x v-ii - j , , vi j .¡human hope melts as briefly. And the bell
"" to the hill-sides of our early rambled, and . ¿ , ,, . . ., ., , ,
, , .,, . . , ' : from the church, that to thy ear gives but music,
r/ui «tawiiiiia /wwaatiai* ttri+ h Ha* ohawa vka , • j
pehaps knells for the dead. The swallow but
chases the moth, and the cloud that deepens the
glory of the heavens, and the Sweet shadows on
the earth, nurse but the thunder that
devastate the harvests.
Not with fear, not with doabt, recognize, 0
mortal, the presence of evil in the worltf. Hush
thy heart at the humbleness of awe, that its
mirror may reflect as serenely the shadows as
the light. Yainly, for its moral, dost thou gaze
on the landscape, if thy soul put no check on
the dull delight of the senses. Two . wings only
raise thee to the snmmit of the truth—where the
us
makes verdure greener with her shade. She
hangs a mirror in every heart, whereon the im-
ages of pleasure are ever bright, and beautiful;
but which care, and pain corrode with every
touch.
Time is a river which has no ebb; yet so im-
perceptibly it flows away from us, that our
hopes of to-morrow become the waifs of yes-
terday, upon its tide, ere we are aware. Every
barque that floats upon its bosom has the same
destination—Eternity.—[G. W. Dewey.
Punch's discourse on bricks is amusing, par-
ticularly this passage*
" How common it has been, of late years, to j cherub shall comfort the sorrow, where the ser-
say to a man, whose virtuous tendencies are of aP^ enlighten the joy. Dark - as ebon
the first order,
" ' My dear fellow, you are a briék.'
" It becomes, however, more emphatic in the
usage of the third person.
" '?Do you know Mr. So-and-so? ?fs he a
good fellow?'
" The answer in one word is,
" ' He's a brick.'
" The answer is satisfactory, id all senses, to
brother.
spreads the one wing, white as snow gleams the
other—mournful as thy reason when it descends
into the deep—exulting as thy faith when it
springs to the day%tar.—[Bulwer.
Teach the Woman to Save.—There's the
secret. A saving woman at the head of a family
is the very best savings' bank ever yet estab-
lished; one that receives deposits daily and
the propounderof the question; indeed, a more: hourl7> with no costl-v macMne to manaSc ifc-
satisfactory reply cam not be uttered. We have
heard this kind of expression called "slang":
it really is not so. Gentlemen, take up yonr
Plutarch, turn to the life of Agesilaus, and what
do you read? You'll find, if you understand
Greek,—and if you do n't set about learning it
immediately, for the purpose of history, as well
as poetry aud elevation of thought,—that when
the ambassador from Epirus went to Agesilaus,
to have a diplomatic chit-chat with him, he said
to him:
" ' ? Where on earth arc the walls of Sparta?
In other States of Greece the principal towns
have walls: but where are yours, dear Agesi-
laus?' N
" The Sir Stratford Canning, or Lord Cowley,
from Epirus, was answered by that amiable
monarch:
" ' I '11 to-morrow, at morning dawn, show yon
the walls of Sparta. Breakfast with me, old
chap: some of the best black soup that Sparta
can afford shall be put on the table; and I'll
show you the walls.'
"They met; and Agesilaus had drawn out his
Spartan army before him, and, with exulting
cheer, and dignified mien, said to his friend from
Epirus:
" 'Look! these ai-e the walls of Sparta, sir;
aud every particular man you see is a brick."
" ! IIow classical becomes the phrase! how
distant from slang!"
Let that which i* out of your power, be out
(' vour care.
,iifc
The idea of saving is a pleasant one, and if "the
women" would imbibe it once, they would éulti-
vate and adhere to it; and thus, many, when
they were not aware of it, would be laying the
foundation for a competence, security in a
stormy time, and a shelter in a rainy day. The
woman who se^ to her own house has a 'large
field to save in, and the best way to make her
comprehend it is for her to keep an account cur-
rent of expenses. Probably not one wife in ten
has an idea how much are the expenditures of
herself or family. Where from one to two
thousand dollars are expended annually, there is
a chance to save something, if the attempt is
only made. Let the housewife' take the idea,
act upon it and strive over it, aud she will save
many dollars—perhaps hundreds—-where, before
she thought it impossible. This is a duty, not a
prompting of avarice; a moral obligation that
rests upon all; upon "the women" as well as
the men: but it is a duty, we are sorry to say,
that is cultivated very little, even amoug those
who preach the most, and regard themselves as
examples in most matters. " Tench the woman !
to save," is a good enough maxim to be inserted
in the next edition of " Poor Richard's"
almanac.
It was a saying of a great divine, that he had
fonnd more good,in bad people, and more bad in
good people, than he ever expected.
In the Austrian empire one man in T8 is a
soldier; in the British empire on? in 46; in the
United States one in 2047
Too 'cute.—" Dad, you know that hra¿fc thing'
the fellow gin me for my trunk there at the
depot?*
"Yes." ' ' r -
" Wall, 'twant nothing but braa*, was ifT
" No I s'pose not."
"Good!—wall, I stuck it into that
back there for a quarter, and he
fied." '
Jonathan found what kind of
played, when he saw the hackman
check and take his trunk from
master, in spite of his own loud
that it belonged to him. ■ '
— : • «.y ■— . -V ' .
Oriental Legend.—"
em legend says, "has two:
'his right shonlder and one
he does any thing good the
shoulder writes it down
what is-once well done, is done fiar <
he does evil, the angel upon his left
writes it down, but does not seal H., '
till midnight. If before that
bows down his head, aad
Allah!—I have sined!—forgive me!'
rubs it out; but if not, at midnight he senfe
and the angel upon the right shoulder weeps." _
A grove should shade eveiy
the land, and if your neighbor i
plant them yourself for the health
of your children and children's <
wiH be a better and'more
than the nnfelt and and tmbélieved
will cut upon your tomb-stone. Plant 1
yonr own house for your owft sake,
the highway for humanity's. E*ery trefe J
a good act, and lift its head over the
wayfarer in attestation of your loving 1
to fellow men.
Durability of Cedar.—At the
of the graves in the burial-ground at
Mary's" M«L, there stands a
as the inscription indicates, Was
the year 17171 Notwithstanding
exposed to the weather for so.
perfectly sound; and if
hands, it will doubtless be
man, woman, and child that now
the earth, shall have gone down to
and the worm."
Sao 0et True.—How small a
lives is it that we truly enjoy! In youth
looking forward to things that are
old age we took backward to
past.
" I'm behind the time;* as the
when he? run up bnik of ths clock ^