Newspaper of The Democratic Advocate, 22 Mart 1873, Page 1

Newspaper of The Democratic Advocate dated 22 Mart 1873 Page 1
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$2 PER ANNUM. THE LADY’S YES. IV ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWKIXO. “Yml” 1 anawered you Uat night; “No!” thin morning, air, I *y; Colors, soon by candle-light, Will not look the same by day. When the tabors played their best— I .ii m pH above and laughs below— % I.ove me sounded like a jest, Fit for yes or fit for no. Call roe false or call roe free, Vow, whatever light may shine. No man on thy face shall see Any grief for change on mine. Yet the sin is on us both, p. Time to dance is not to woo : Wooer light makes fickle troth, Scorn of me recoils on yon. Learn to win a lady's faith Nobly as the thing is high ; Bravely, as for life or death, With a loyal gravity. I .cad her from the festive boards, § Point her to the starry skies, Guard her by your faithful words, Pure from courtship's flatteries. By your truth she shall be true—- Ever true, as wives of yore ; And her Yes, once said to you, Shall be Yes forevermore. LIFE IN UTAH. TKIAI.S AT ('iIHIHTMAH TIJIE. Bishop Pots, of Salt Lake City, was the husband of three wive* and the hap py father of fifteen interesting children. Early in the winter the bishop determined that his little ones should have a good time on Christmas, so he concluded to take a trip down to Han Francisco to see what he could find in the shape of toys to grat ify and amuse them. The good bishop packed his carpet-bag, embraced Mr*. Potts one by one and kissed each of them affectionately, and started upon his jour ney. lie was gone a little more than a week, when he came hack with fifteen beautiful mouth-organs In his valise for his darlings, lie got out of the train at Salt Lake, thinking bow joyous and exhilarating it would he at home Christmas morning when the whole of those mouth-organs should be in operation upon different tunes at the same moment. But just as he entered the depot he sow a group of women stand ing in the ladies’ room, apparently waiting for him. As soon as he approached, the whole twenty of them rushed up, throw their arm* about his neck and kissed him, exclaiming * “Oh, Theodore, we arc so—so glad you have come back ! Welcome home! Wel come once more to the bosom of your fam ily!” and then the entire score of them fell upon his neck and cried over his shirt and mussed him. The bishop was surprised and confused. Struggling to disengage himself, he blushed and said: “Really, ladies, this kind of thing is well enough—it is interesting and all that, but then; must be some kind of a—that is an awkward sort of a—excuse me, ladies, but there seems to be, as it were, a slight misunderstanding about the—l am Bishop Potts.” “We know it, we know it, dearest,” they exclaimed in chorus, “and we are glad to see you safe at home. We have all been right well while you were away, love.” “It gratifies me,” remarked the bishop, >4 lo learn that none of you have been a prey to disease. lam filled with blissful serenity when I a • intern plate the fact ; but really I do not understand why you should rush into this railway station and hug mo because your livers are active and your digestion good. The precedent is hud; it is dangerous!” “Oh, but wo didn’t!” they exclaimed in chorus. “We came here to welcome you because you arc our husband.” “Pardon me, hut there must be some little—that is to say, as it were. I should think not. Women, you must have mis taken your man.” “Oh no, dearest!” they shouted. Wo were married to you while you were away 1” “What!” exclaimed the bishojj, “you don’t mean to say that —” “Yes, love. Our husband, Win. Brown, died on Monday, and on Tuesday Brigham had a vison in which he was directed to seal us to you; and so he performed the ceremony at once by proxy.” “Th-th-th-th-underl” observed the bish op, in a general sort of away. “And, 'darling, we are all living with you now —we and the dear children.” “Children ! children !” exclaimed Bish op Potts, turning pale, “you don’t mean to say that there is pack of children, too ?” “Yes, love, but only one hundred and twenty-five, not counting the eight twins and the triplets.” “Wha-wha-wha-what d’you say?” gasp ed the bishop, in a cold perspiration, “one hundred and twenty-five! One hundred and twenty-five children and twenty more wives! It is too much —it is awful 1” and the bishop sat down and groaned, while the lute Mrs. Brown and the rest of the brides stood round in a semi-circle and funned him with their bonnetiftU except the red-haired one, and she in her trepidation made a futile effort to fan him with the coal scut tle. After a while the bishop became recon ciled to bis new alliance, knowing well that bis protests would be unavailing; so he walked homo, holding as many of the hands of the brides, as he could con veniently grasp in bis, while the red-haired woman carried bis umbrella and marched In front of the parade to remove obstruc .tions and to scare small boys. When the bishop reached the house, he Trent round among the cradles which filled, the back parlor and the second story rooms, and attempted, with such earnestness, to become acquainted with his new sous and daughters that he sot the whole one hun dred and twenty-five and the twlxs to aid ing, while bis own original fifteen stood around and joined in the chorus.* ®l )t Mtmocxatic Then the bishop went out and sat nn I the garden fence to whittle a stick and \ solemnly think, while Mrs. Potts diatribu-, ted herself in twenty-three places and j soothed the children. It occurred to the bishop while he mused, out there ou the fence, that ho had not enough of mouth organs to go around among the children as the family now stood; and so, rather than seem partial, lie determined to go back to San Francisco for one hundred and forty-four more. So the bishop repacked his carpet-bag and began again to bid farewell to his family. He tenderly kissed all the Mrs. Potts who were at home, and started for the depot, while Mrs. Potts stood at the various windows and waved handkerchiefs at him—all except the woman with the warm hair, and she, in a fit of absent-minded ness, held one of the twins by tho leg and brandished it at Potts as he fled down the street. The bishop reached San Francisco, completed his purchases, and was just about to got on the train with his one hundred and forty-four mouth-organs, when a telegram was handed him. It con tained in formal ion to the effect that tho uuhurn-haired Mrs. Potts had just had u daughter. This induced the bishop to re turn to the city for the purpose of pur . chasing an additional organ. On tho following Saturday he returned | home. As he approached his house a swarm of young children flew out of tho front gate, and run toward him. shouting: “There’s pa ! Here conies pa ! Oh, pa, we’re glad to see you ! Hurrah for pa!” The bishop looked at tho children as they flocked around him and clung to his ( legs and coat, and was astonished to per ceive that they wore neither his nor the lute Brown’s. He said, “You youngsters have made a mistake; lam nut your fu l thcr;” mid ho smiled good-naturedly. “Oh, yes, you are though!” screamed I the little ones in chorus. “"But I say I am not,” said the bishop, I severely, and frowning ; “don't you know where little story-tellers go? It is scanda , lous to violate the truth in this manner. | ( My name is Potts.” I “Yes, wo know it i," exclaimed the I children—“wc know it b. and so is ours; that is our name now too since the wed ; ding.” “Since what wedding?” demanded the . bishop, turning pale. “Why, urn's wedding, of course. She was married yesterday to you by Mr. 1 Young, and we arc all living at your house now with our new little brothers and sis ters." Tho bishop sat down on tho pavement and wiped away n tear Then he asked ; “Who was your father?” “Mr. Simpson,” said the crowd, “and I he died on Tuesday.” “And how many of his infernal old wid , ows—l mean how many of your mothers are there ?” ! “Only twenty-seven,” replied tho chil dren. “and there are only sixty-four of us ( and we arc awful glad you have come.” ) Tho bishop did not seem unusually glad; somehow, he failed to enter into the cn . thusiasm of the occasion. There appeared to be in a certain sense, too much same ness about these suprbes, so he sat there with his hat pulled over his eye* and con sidered the situation. Finally seeing there was no help for it, he rushed up to the { house, and forty-eight of Mrs. Potts rushed I up to him, and told him how the prophet t had had another vision in which ho was I commanded to seal Simpson’s widows to , Potts. Then the bishop stumbled around among t the cradles to hw writing-desk, where he felt among the gum rings and rattles for I his writing paper, and then addressed a , note to Brigham, asking him us a person al favor to keep awake until after Christ mas. “The man must take me for u I foundling hospital,” ho said. Then the bishop saw clearly enough that if he gave presents to the other children and not to the late Simpson's, the bride relict of Simpson would probably souse down on ( him, fumble among his hair and make it warm for him. So, repacking his carpet bag, he started again for Sun Francisco for sixty-four more mouth-organs, while i Mrs. Potts gradually took leave of him in , the entry —all but the red-haired woman, who was up-stairs, and who hud to be sat isfied with screeching good-by at the top of her voice. On his way home, after his lost visit to San Francisco, the bishop sat in the car , by tho side of a man who had left Salt | Lake the daj’ before. The stranger was communicative. In the course of the con versation he remarked to the bishop: i “That was a lively little affair up there in , the cltv on Monday.” “What affair?” asked Potts. I “Why. that wedding; McGrath’s wid ow, you know—married by proxy.” 1 “You don’t say,” replied the bishop. “I didn’t know McGrath wm dead.” “Yes, he died on Sunday, and that , night Brigham had a vision in which he , was ordered to seal her to the bishop. “Bishop ” exclaimed Potts. “Bishop! ‘ what biahop ?” 1 “Well, you see there were fifteen of , Mrs. McGrath and eighty-two children, ( and they shoved the whole lot off on old , Potts. Perhaps you don’t know him ?” The bishop gave a wild, unearthly I shriek, and went Into a hysterical fit, and i writhed on the floor as if he had hydro . phobia. When ho recovered, he leaped from the train and walked back to San Francisco. He afterward took the first ’ steamer for Peru, where he entered a mon ‘ astery and became a celibate. His carpet-bag was sent to his family. . It contained the balance of the mouth-or gans. On Christmas rooming they were . distributed, and in less than two hours the entire two hundred and eight children ‘ were sick from sucking paint off them. A doctor was called, and he seemed so much interested in the family that Brig ( ham divorced the whole concern from old | Potts and annexed it to the doctor, who ’ immediately lost his reason and would have butchered the entire family if the red i haired woman and the oldest boy had not marched him off to a lunatic asylum, where ho spent his time in trying to ar rive at an estimate of the number of bis children by cyphering with an impossible combination of the multiplication table and algebra- —Max Adder. WESTMINSTER, MD. SATURDAY, MARCH 22. 1873. OLD SUPERSTITIONS. Omens, Presentiments and Enchantments. ) Even nof, when every laxly supposes that the superstitions of the Middle Age* have passed away, the belief in omens and presentiments is entertained with a re markable tenacity. We find persons win are apparently the last to heed any thin;; not ns palpable a* noon-day sunshine, to bo dispirited and almost overpowered at an accidental occurrence for which often i: would seem not difficult to account. The finding of a pin or other object with u sharp point or edge directed toward the finder, fills many persons with the most dismal forebodings. A first sight of the moon after it has changed, will occasion dismay or stimulate hope. Many a man having occasion to return to his house after leaving it for any business, is impressed with the occurrence as having an unfortu nate influence upon the matter. A work begun on Friday is regarded as of uncer tain result. These impressions, strange as it may seem at first sight, are traceable to sources which are of more or less interest. The ill fortune of Friday is perhaps the least noteworthy of all. Our Norse and Saxon forefathers regarded the day ns sacred to Frcya, the goddess of love and good for tune ; and so we ought to have inherited un impression that its omens were propi tious. It is probable that the pernicion pructice of setting it apart to public exe cutions, has deprived it of its older felici tous traditions. Certainly, to begin an enterprise, to undertake any thing, we would as readily select that day as any in the seven. Tho su)Mtrstition in regard to returning into the house after setting out for any business, is probably a misapplied render ing of un old proverb. To go back, or look hack after having begun, indicates an un certainty of purpose which augurs ill suc cess. “He that wavereth is as a wave ot the seo, that is driven about and tossed.” “No niun putting his hand to the plough and looking back is fit for the Kingdom of God.” By a too literal application of this sentiment, the casual return into the house after going forth was associated with ill omen. Zoroaster enjoined a man going on a journey not to return by the road upon which ho set out. In our time this pre cept would seem idle* and we are warrant ed in neglecting it. But in ancient times few persons made journeys except for bu siness. expecting to bring home valuable property of some kind. There were rob bers in those days us well as now; indeed, freebooting was often considered respecta ble. A man known to have gone on u journey could cosily be waylaid as he re turned home, a risk which might be obvi ated by taking u different route. The foreboding created by suddenly perceiving the edge or point of a sharp object directed toward the person, doubt lessly took its origin from the old practice at capital executions of turning the blade of the axe or the point of the lance toward the individual about to suffer. The lucky and unlucky sight of the moon after her periodical changing is older than all these, and the history of the su perstition is more curious. It is a.relicuf the ancient worship of the Great Mother, the divinity that under a thousand names and symbols was revered in the olden tiroes, to whom many believed not only creation but the male deities were subor dinate. One of the symbols of the god dess was the moon, and when that planet each month emerged from her few days ot seclusion, tho favorable falling of her rays upon the eyes was deemed auspicious ot propitious fortune. Similar was the omen of a bird flying in a certain direction, or u peal of thunder ut tho right hand. The mystic, horse-shoe pertains to the same idea. Our forefathers once cherished these beliefs, and so, by direct inheritance, wo have the ideas which are denominated superstitious whithout remembering the former religion of which they were an offshoot. Akin to these ideas is the belief in pre sentiment. With some this is so strong as almost to constitute a religion, while others regard the whole phenomena us relating exclusively to disordered nerves and stom ach. As is not uncommon, both parties are more or less correct. Certain it is that persons who are troubled with imper fect digestion and believe in presentiment*, have them in abundance. But they arc generally as baseless as the fabric of any other dream, and the disregard of them is essential to the recovery of a healthy tone of the corporeal system. A person yield ing to such furcboings Is in a fairway of becoming insane. Nevertheless there is a faculty of pre sentiment capable of development and ex ercise to a degree that may be well re garded as oracular. It is a quickening of the sensibility, enabling the person to per ceive facts which in common every-day life are generally outside tho perception. Wo feel, when groping our way through a dark room, the presence of objects at some distance from us; showing that our per ceptive power extends to a considerable distance from o\ir persons. Probably owing to a similar reason, we think of individuals who are approaching us, while they are still at a distance. It is even possible that u person many miles from another, by thinking intently of him, may cause the latter to think of himself in reciprocation. The phenomenon of two persons thinking the same thoughts on tho instant, occurs frequently enough to be regarded as not uncommon or extraordinary. The only point of inquiry is in relation to the law which governs the matter. The mind in certain states, exhibits twofold phenomena, mirroring around it in the form of delineations and occurring events, the thoughts, material impression* and ideas which pertain to it. This con stitutes “tho stuff that dreams are made of,” and probably many of our presenti ments originate in this manger. The pe- I collar influences of others mingling In our personal atmosphere, would modify all I these impressions aud delineations. Kvcnts i of the past, it is easy enough to perceive, would constitute a prominent feature in them. Wc reproduce all these in memory ind day-dreams, us well as in “the visions of the night." This being the case, hut one thing more is requisite. The future can mirror itself in our consciousness, im press our minds, and mingle with dreams aid other operations of the imagination, without being altogether phantasmagoria. Despite the assertion of religions teach ers and others that it is impious and dan gerous to aspire to know what is impen ding, the passion of such knowledge is well nigh universal. That ‘coming events cast their shadows before," is believed by al most everybody. From the jiatriareb Joseph, who divined with the lees of the wine in his cup, to the beldame of our day who explores the arcana of tea-grounds, the motive is the same. Everybody builds on the forecast of what may be expected. Presentiments arc the universal faith of mankind. There urc wcll-autbcntioatod stories in every community on the face of the earth, of dreams that prefigured events which afterward occurred, of impressions on the mind which could nut he accounted for by ordinary reasoning, yet were realis ed at a subsequent time. It is in vain to attack such a general sentiment os su|>er stiliun ; even the proof that many instances are deceptive is not enough, for counterfeit currency would not lie invented if there was none genuine. There exists evidence in the case, of witnesses that would he re garded as competent in ordinary matters, and it has been accepted by persons of the highest intelligence. Equally general has been the belief in I witchcraft, sorcery and enchantment. In former times the art of wonder-working was believed to bo exercised by the sacerdotal and learned class, and was imputed to their superior knowledge and intimacy with the Deity. Every pco| lo had its own doers of miracles. The voeahulsry of witchcraft indicates the peculiar character of the occult influences. Sorcery originally meant a casting of lots; dicimtvm, a communing with a divine being; magic, from may or malm, power ; charm, from the Latin carmen, is a song; enchantment, from the French, and iucun laliun from the Latin mean singing or elianting. All the ancient worship was • performed or accompanied by chanting,! whether prayers, doxologic*. or recitations, (t was so at the temple of Jerusalem, the ' orgies of Dionysus, and the Mystcric of he Great Mother. The bards or chanters were conspicuous in Druid tiroes in Great Britain. When King Saul was troubled by “an evil spirit from the Lord," the young man David charmed it away. When Elisha, the prophet, attempted to anawer the behest of the three kings, he required a minstrel. “And it came to pass that when the minstrel played, the hand of the Lord came upon him." The hostility that existed between the votaries of different religions, iietwcen the Brahmins aud the Sivaists of India, the Zoroastrians and the Vedaists. the wor shippers of Zeus and the followers of the Titans, the Hebrews and the Ethnieisls, . displayed itself in characterising odiously the formulas of the respective worships. Thus these terms derived their offensive meaning. The ministers of the standard religion of every country have always assailed adversaries with the accusation of commerce with evil spirits. The Brahmin invaders of Hindustan dcnumtti tied the aboriginal inhabitants demons or Kakshns as. The Arabs call the pyramid-builders ind the excavators of tho grottoes, Jinns and Afrites. The Celtic colonists of Europe styled the jieoples whom they displaced, giants, trolls and fairies. The (sraclites associated the crime of sorcery with tho idolatry of the Canaaniles and Babylonians. “Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft,” said tho prophet Samuel to King Saul. It is therefore no marvel that after the Christian era tho pagan religion on the one hand, and heretical leaders on the other, were ail accused in tho same manner. The French terra for sorcery is tanderie or Wnldensism. The Quictists were involved in the same accusation. The Huguenots of Southern France, and the Camisards of the Ccvennea were massacred as witches. Rut witchcraft pro|ier, the heir-loom of the Middle Ages, was no more or less than the old religion of the Empire which was condemned in the reign of Theodosius I. The Roman Senate forbade the worship of the old gods, the orgies and secret rites. Rut people do not often change religions with the facility of altering the style of garments; and so for centuries, in wild and secluded places, under one guise or an other, the pagan worship was secretly maintained. The church directed its thunders against it, and secular tribunals instituted civil processes. Hundreds and thousands were remorselessly put to death in different countries of Furope. The in vasion of Massachusetts w..s somewhat different. But few persons who write of it or speak of it do so candidly. There was no more credulity at Salem than in Charleston, Jamestown or New York ; no more rigor of punishment or judicial ignorance than prevailed all over Europe. Indeed it is not ten years since the last statutes sgainst witchcraft were repealed in this country. Thus it will be preoeived that the belief in witchcraft has a founda tion which few have supposed. - It was not constituted essentially of the marvels and thaumntnrgioal performances which many have supposed; fur miracles are common to almost every religion. Healing the sick, easting out demons, raising the dead, and controlling the elements, are features in the sacred narratives of ail countries. It is possible that the early Quakers, aware that music was the agency known as sorcery, enchantment and the black art, for that reason interdicted its use among their members We generally suppose that their apparent eccentricities had a basis of good sense, or some positive prin- 1 I eipie behind them, and were nut adopted ' l fur frivolous reasons. The investigations now in progress among Oriental scholars and others, will bring lo light many things which hare appeared enigmatical. Certainly they show up heathenism in far different lights from what wc have been accustomed to see. If these learned studies should paganise Christendom, would it not be a fair return fur the endeavors of our religi ons bodies to christianise heathendom? Budhdism, which half mankind still believe, Brahmanism, Magianism and Judaism have done more than is supposed to shape the views of the Western countries. Parental Influence. The Philadelphia Ledger has some excellent comments on the duties of parent# to their children. It closes its article os follows: There urc not only faults to be correc ted, but positive virtues lo be inculcated, if we would train our children to fill worthily their places in tho world. There arc some parents whose main effort is to keep their children innocent. They guard them from every temptation, keep them from evil company, suffer them to see and lo know only one side of life, and thus de velop a sort of hot-house growth of good ness that may ho beautiful lo look at in childhood, but that will never serve them in the rough winds and storms of tempta tion and trial that await them in the open field of life. Innocence is not virtue aud those who fancy that it is make a fatal mistake. Innocence is simply the igno rance of evil; virtue knows it, appreciates it, rejects it. I Infancy islovely in its innocence, but life, witli its stern realities, demands the strong, ripened vigor of manly virtue, to resist its evil, to protect its good, and to bnild up character, and to bless the world. So all moral education, to fulfill its true work, must lead the innocent child up to virtue by instilling the positive love of truth nnd justice, honor and integrity into the heart, not by shielding him from every tempta tion, but by preparing him to meet, it; not by hiding from- him all knowledge of wrong, but by inspiring him with a lure of right and a resolute purpose of following it. Parents only can do this work. They may and do have many efficient helps in Sunday schools, teachers, friends, books, I Jce. and they do well to claim and welcome i such aid, but if they rely on it to accom- I plish everything, if they think to transfer . their own responsibility in this matter to any other hands, they inflict an irreparable injury upon their offspring and sow seeds of misery for their own old age. But if parental duties are onerous, and the responsibilities momentous, the rewards are sacred and priceless. Who that has wisely and lovingly trained up sons or daughters to manhood or womanwood, and beheld then, one by one. take honorable and useful places in the world, and has received the respeoT and love, the confi dence and sympathy that is gladly rendered by filial affection, does not feel a thousand fold repaid for every effort, for every self denial he has made in their behalf? Not for thousands of gold nnd silver would be part from these sacred joys. They cheer his declining yean, they soothe every trial, they brighten every dark passage of his life. LeJ, then, every father and every mother take a new and more solemn, yet inspiring view of duties so emphatic, of responsibilities so weighty, of encourage ments so cheering. To family life is our country looking for a new generation of brave and noble citizens; upon it is she depending for her stability and prosperity. Let us each do our {art, and she will not be disappointed. The Date Harvest. Only the female trees bear fruit, and this only when they are impregnated with dust from the males, which is consequent ly done artificially. The male palms are often tied up and blanched to be cut for the Palm Sunday festivals, and they are also sold to be stuck up in balconies as a protection against lightning, being consid ered quite as efficacious and being certain ly much cheaper than an iron conductor. £2,000 worth are sold annually in Eleho for this purpose, and £14,000 worth of dates. The latter were being gathered during our visit (January) by the clever horlelanot, who climb the branchless trunks like cats, a rope being passed round it and their waists, upon which they rest thiir while weight in a horizontal position lowering their baskets when filled and raising them again by a putty. The de fective palm leaves are sent to the manu factories and used as cigarettes. By the roadside, before every cottage door, are quantities of dates in baskets, no one watch ing them ; any pnaser-by may cat as many os he likes, fill bia packets, and leave hia half-penny in payment. It iz generally left, for where Spaniards are trusted they scarcely cter abuse a trust When we walked in the groves the hospitable peas ants were only too anxioua to load us with the best branches of the fruit, and would accept no payment at all.— Wanderinge in Spain. Why Men Don't Marry. Rev. Henry Morgan lectured in Boston on “Why men don't tftany.” His head- < ings were these: Men don’t marry —first, because they can't; they can't get the one i they want; bachelors have high notions, i Second—Because many of them arc cow ards, they dare not face the music ; they i dodge the question. Thirdly—Because < they are skeptical; they have no faith in i woman; think marriage a lottery. Fourth ( —They are selfish they cannot yield for i soothers' good; can’t support a family; < want the sweets of life without bearing its I burdens. Fifth—Woman's extravagance. I Here the speaker allowed the true cause for man's hesitating—expensive living and extravagant dreas. Girls, the young men 1 are afraid of your extravagance. That’s t the secret. t The Month of March. When Romulus established a calendar for bis newly-founded city, he divided the year into ten months, and named the first month Martins, in honor of his father, Mara, the heathen god of war. Ovid, how ever, aays that the nations of Italy had long previously named one of their months after the same deity, but that they differed in the place they severally assigned to it; some making it the second, others the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, nr even the tenth month of the year. N uroa Pompi lius, the successor of Romulus, added the months of Jannnry and February to the Roman year, aud reduced March from be ing the first month to the third rank in bis calendar, in which station it continued until the Christian Church adopted the season of Easter for the commenement of the year. In France this arrangement was again altered by an edict of Charles IX in 1504, which decreed that the year should, from thenceforth, begin on the Ist of January. This example was adopted by the Scotch in 1590; but in England the 25th of March continued to be the new year’s day until the year 1752. Al though this month was named by the Ro mans after the god of war. it was consider ed os under the more espeeial patronage of Minerva, the goddess of wisdom; it has always consisted of thirty-one days, no sub sequent reformer of the calendar having altered the arrangement of Romulus in tins respect, March was considered by the Romans an unlucky month for the celebration of marriages. By our Saxon ancestors this month, says Verstegan, was called Rhede or Rethe-Monath. according to some authorities, to express its general buistenmsness of character, Rhede signify ing in their interpretation rough or but according to others, from its being dedicated by them, before their conversion to Christianity, to their idol. Rhede. The name was afterwards changed to Lenet Munat, or Length Month, because it is in March that the length of the day begins to exceed that of the night. * The month of March is interesting in many particulars. Notwithstanding the boisterous wind and frequent storm which have acquired for it the character of “com ing in like a lion," yet wo seem, at its very commencement, to be taking leave of the rigors of winter. The air. though cold, is generally clear, healthy, and free from damp and fogs; the trees begin to put forth their leaves, the birds to sing, and those who have taken shelter in our clime from the intense cold of a northern winter, arc already returning to their native re gions. It appears, in fact, as if all nature wore preparing to welcome the return of this month, when the snn enters the con stellation of Aries, or the Ram. From this period the weather generally becomes milder, yielding gradually to the genial rays of the sun ; bees venture out of their hives, and flowers begin to stud the fields and gardens, until March, which, accord ing to the proverb, has come in like a lion , “goes out like a lamb." The hieroglyphic or pictorial representations of March, have generally consisted of a man. of a tawny color and fierce aspect, with a helmet on his head, representing, in fact, the heathen god Mars. He is unaccompanied, however, by any other warlike ensign than bis hel met ; one hand holds a bunch of almond blossoms and other scions, the hand resting on a spade, while a basket of seeds hangs upon the same arm. The other hand eith er holds or rests upon a ram, typical of the sign Aries. The poet Spencer repre sents him as riding on a ram, and scatter ing seed over tho ground: “Monty Man-h, with brown roll sternly beat And armed atronly, rode upon a nun. The name which over HelUwponlus sw am; Yet In his band a spade be also bent. And In a baa all aorta of aeeds ysamc, Which on tho earth he strewed as he went. And ttlted her womb with fruitful hope ot nourish meiit" A dry March is reckoned most favora ble to the future prospects of the gardener, the florist, and the husbandman, and hence the proverbs, “A bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom ;” “A dry March never begs its breadand, on the other hand. "March grass" (which would require a wet season to grow so early) “never did good." A Good Act The act for the suppression of obscene literature, which was passed by the 42d Congress, if carried into execution, will prove of inestimable benefit to the morality of the community at large; but laws, like pic-crust, are so frequently made but to be broken, 4bat wc can hardly hope for as good results as might be expected. The act, to be sure, covers ample ground, the penalties for its violation are distinctly stated, and it but remains to bo seen whether there will be sufficient force in our public prosecutor* to carry it out. If they do, two lucrative advertising columns of a certain morning journal will have to be discontinued; for, certainly, the “Per sonals," and “Medical" advertisements come most distinctly under section 148 of the act, which says that there shall not pass through the mail nor be delivered “any advertisement or notice of any kind giving information, directly nr indirectly, where, or how, or of whom, or by what means either of the things above mentioned may be obtained or made”—that, is tossy, obscene, lewd or lascivious book, pamphlet, picture, paper, print or other publication of an indecent character, or any article or thing designed or intended for the pre vention of conception or procuring of abortion, nor any article or thing intended or adapted for any indecent or immoral use or nature. This clearly and distinctly closes the “Personal" and “Medical" col umns. and if it will but have as good an efieot in the other eaaes it is intended to reach, we may heartily thank Congress for the act.—AVic York K.cpre*n. • A curious superstition exists in parts of Europe, that when a person is dying, the window should be opened to lot the soul depart. VOL. VIII.—NO. 19. Cologne Water. It has been said that t oli .;riu Water is 1 among perfumes what the diamond is among precious stones, for while nil other perfumes are subject to the fickle changes of fashion, one day the favorite of the fair sex, and the next discarded for some new 1 essence, it alone is alwsya countenanced. In the manifold uses to which it is put, whether as s toilet accessory, or in the chamber of the sick, Cologne Water, since its introduction, has proved its superiority over ail rivals. Cologne, the capital of Rhenish Prussia, front which the famous water takes ib name, is also famous fur containing th< Church of 81. Ursula, in which repose tin bones of the saint after whom the chord, is named, and her 11,000 virgins, whe according to the legend, were slaughtered by the idolatrous Huns Had Cologne 1 Water been discovered in the days o' Homer, we should doubtless, hare had a story of ho* the blood of the slaughterer virgins, after sinking into the earth, gush ; ed forth again in a spring of perfumet’ water. But the discovery of Cologm Water dates back only as far as shout th year 1700, and at that date poetical men dacily had lost much of ita former popu ' larity. In that year there lived in Cologne 1 an Italian, named Johann Maria, who ac cording to the archives of the city, traded > in works of art, silken wares and perfum 1 erics, and prepared ami seild Cologne Wa ! ter. This latter becoming popular, am ! the demand for it increasing, he gradually 1 devoted himself entirely to its manufac -1 tore. Copyrighted labels and the protce ! tion of the patent laws were unknown in ’ theme days, and hosts of imitators sprang up as the fame of Farina’s perfume spread, v The superiority of the eiriginal article was ! however, proved over sil competitors. 1 The secret of its composition has beer. " well preserved, and has never been com 1 | municated to any except those of the in -1 venter's family, who have inherited th * business and carried it On. Johann Ma ria Farina died in 1732, leaving his buai I ness to his nephew, ami the present pro c prietor, who still carries on the mannfac * tore ‘'opposite the Zueliebs Place,’’ is i ‘ great-great-nephew of the original inven y tor. Other Farinas, similar in name, bu B not related to Johann Maria, have fron 8 time to time engaged in .the manufactur II of Cologne Water, and their numerous de ’ scendants each claims to possess the orig * iusl receipt. To such a height bss the L ‘ mutual jealousy between these competitor ’> arrived, that each keeps regularly in hi. pay a number of hack driven and guides c so that strangen visiting the city may is * taken to their establishments, with the as aurance that that particular one is the or -1 iginal distillery. 9 The popularity of Cologne Water if * aaid to have remained local until thi r French, during the Seven Yean' War 9 took possession of Rhineland, and diseov * ed the virtues of the new perfume. Quickb < carried to Parts, it became a favorite, and ’ from there spread all over Europe, and i 5 now to be found a familiar article equalh ' among the settlen on our Western fron 1 tier, the sheep fsrmen of Australia, oi * the dainty belles of every city in Chrisl < endom. I A remarkable series of accidents is re ■ latcd to have occurred one night last week 1 at Elizabeth, N. J. A. Mr. Wells had re - tired for the night, when, shortly after 1 wards, Mn. Wells complained of a feeling * of numbness in her limbs and requested - her husband to help her across the floor About half way across the room he ex pressed some fears, when site told him nal to be afraid, and immediately dropper dead at his feet. He gave an alarm, am’ a neighbor, an old lady, in crossing th< street to his assistance, fell, brenkin; her left arm in two places and her rigb - collar bone. Her son, a young man . heard her scream, and rushing out of tin ' bouse to her aid, fell against the half open < door, breaking his nose and rebounding * senseless to the floor. Doctor Kendall. ’ hastening to the help of the sufferers, also ' fell, broke two of his ribs, and had to be I carried home. Exclusive of women, merchants, gam blers and idlers, there are seven thousand Chinese in San Francisco engaged in 1 various t radcs and employ ments, at one dol- I lar each per day for working days, amount ing to $2,184,0011 per annum. The total assessment of the entire Chinese population 1 of that city and county, says the Chronicle, 1 including real estate, personal property, 1 manufactures, money on hand, Ac., amounts 1 to lew than $600,000 in valuation,.produc ing a tax, if evety cent of the same should be collected, of about SO,OOO a year—a small amount for so large a class to con tribute toward the expenses of government. This amount would pay seven policemen. The expenditures of these people amount to about twenty cents per day, so that more than one million and a half of dollars is every year seat from tha city of San Francisco to China from the working classes alone. I’ttESBYTXRIAS GENERAL AsstKßLt. —This important religious body will meet in the city of Baltimore on the 15th of May next, and will continue in session from two to four weeks, dependent, of course, upon the business brought before it. It will meet in the Central Presby terian Church, corner of Saratoga and Liberty streets. The assembly is composed of about six hundred commissioners, rep resenting all the Presbyterian Churches in the United States, and some of the most important business that has ever been trans acted by the body, will come before it at the coming seosion. The London BookeeOrr laments that publishing in Ireland will shortly he re garded as among the lost arts. Formerly 9 Ireland had a good active and receptive class cf scholars, but now it has little or no literature. The bent Irish intellects, are out of Ireland. How the Wonder i Worked. ' The readers of the Ledger doubtless üb -8 served in the cable despatches of yesterday r a notice that the cable laid in 1865 “bad 8 failed" at twenty minutes past twelve 1 o'clock on the day before; end that an ' electrician would leave laindon in the evening to ‘ locate the fault.” They of > course understood that it was the mission >f the gentleman mentioned to go to the shore end of the cable on the coast of ' Ireland, to ascertain at tchu t point of the two thousand miles of cable buried under he sea the cable had been Injured or bro ken And we have no doubt some of hem have wondered ho* it was possible 'or the Electrician,to know, or to learn ■ohere the fault or the break could be, 1 :onsideriug that some portions of the wire ■ sere thousands of miles distant from his mint of observation, and a great deal of it mried deep from human sight two miles wueatb the surface of the sea. Yetevery part of that long distance, and every athom of that vast abyss of water, are vithin the reach of the electrician's imlru ne/ttal handt , and within the ken of his eicntifie eye. It is quite practicable for urn to “locate the fault” or the break vithiu a half mile of its actual position, to matter where it be. Although these far-reaching powers are mong the great marvels of modern science, he means and the principles through which hey are exercised are among the simplest hinge when seen and understood. A tele ;raphic wire will transmit an ciectre-mag ictic wave or “current” in proportion to he square of its diameter. The renetanee 1 o the transmission of the wave diminuha n proport ion as the square of the diameter sincreated. This to one law fertile elec rieian. The second is that the resistance a the transmission of the wave ixerratee n direct proportion to the length of the rire or cable over which it is sent. These wo laws furnish the liases for the clectri lan's observations, calculations and results. Ie knows, to start with, the precise amount if resistance that a mile of the cable will •ppose to the transmission of a given (usntity of electro-motive force. He has 1 lelicate and wonderful instruments made iy expert mechanics, that enable him to neasure this with accuracy for a half a uile or for tea thousand miles. Having his knowledge and these measuring instru uents, and baring control of the quantity ■f electricity he is patting on the wire, he '.s able to calculate to a nicety how many niles of the cable it is transmitted over •efore it encounters a greater resistance ban that which is due to the length and liameter of the cable Uaelf. At or near he end of that number of miles of cable, hough it be a thousand miles from land, md two mites under the surface of the sea, be "fault" or break the electrician is in learch of will be found. Our readers should understand that we ire not stating any mere hypothesis. This ■eai wonder and seeming impossibility has 1 icon accomplished again and again. The irinciplca through which it is accomplished ire the discovery of one of thoee quiet, itudious men, who plod about in their lab iratoriea and workshops, and who are sup ■ meed by many people to be wasting their Ives about things of little practical use, mt whose works, together with those of he skilled mechanics, who co-operate with hem really move the world along. This ■articulsr student of the laws of nature is Professor Ohm, of Nuremburg, Germany, ■ne of the several men whose labors, like hone of Oersted and our American Pro essor Henry, have made the Magnetic Telegraph a possibility. The delicate and ronderful instruments by which those irinciplca are applied, and which enable .he electrician to extend his reach a thou und miles out to sea, and to the bottom ■f the ocean abyss, have been at work in me of the modest workshops in this city or several yean. They are the tools of a Philadelphia workman who now leads the world in the manufacture of one import mi adjunct in telegraphy—a nearly per fect "insulator." The simple device for working the coeae cable is there also. — Philadelphia Ledger. The Lest Comet The comet of Biela was first recognized in 1772, and rediscovered by Biela, iu 1826. During its visit in 1846 it was noticed that it bad undergone division, md was separated into two portions which were gradually receding from each other, and at the time of its disappearance they were about 157,000 miles apart On the next reappearance, in 1852, the space between the two points had inereoaed to 1,250,000 miles. The parts were of nearly equal brilliancy and moved ride by side, the interval between them gradually increasing until they disappeared Though carefully searched for in 1859 and 1866, the comet failed to make its appearance ; but Mr. Hind expected that it would make its approach to the earth in the latter part of 1872, and ha positions for successive nights were calculated and foretold to assist in its detection, bat with the ssroe want of success ss on previous occasions. The comet having disappeared, it to found by the directors of the observatories ■ at Vienna and Copenhagen that ita orbit is marked by a considerable meteor stream, and it becomes a matter of the greatest interest to determine the relations between the comet and this meteorstream.—Scrii ner i for March. The Bank of England eovara five acres of ground and employe nine hundred clerks. There are no windows e the street. Light is admitted through open courts; no mob could take tile bank, therefore, without clock in the eeutre of the bank has fifty dials attached to it. Large cistern* are sunk in the court, and snfftwa in perfect

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