im
VOL. III.
OXFORD, N. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1877.
NO. 9.
THE IIERROx\$ OF ELMWOOD.
Warm anil still is tlie summer night,
As here by the rivers brink I wander ;
White over head are the stars, and white
The glimmering lamps on the hill-side
yonder.
Silent are all the sounds of day ;
Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets,
And the cry of the herons winging their way
O'er the poet’s house in the Elmwood
thickets.
Call to him, herons, as slowly you pass
To your roosts in the haunts of the exile
thrushes /
Sing him the song of the green morass,
And the tides that water the sweets and
rushes.
Sing him the mystical song of the hern,
And the secret that baffles our utmost
seeking;
For only a sound of lament we discern,
And cannot interpret the words you are
speaking.
Sing of the air in the wild delight
Of wings that uplift and winds that uphold
you,
The joy of freedom, the rapture of flight
Through the drift of the floating mists that
enfold \ ou.
Of the landscape lying so far below.
With its towns and rivers and desert places;
And the splendor ot light above, and the glow
Of the limitless, blue, ethereal spaces.
Ask him if songs of the Troubadours,
Or of Minnesingers in old black letter,
Sound in his ears more sweet than yours.
And if yours are sweeter and wilder and
better.
Si :g to him, say to him, here at his gate,
Where the boughs of the stately elms are
meeting,
Some one hath lingered to meditate.
An 1 send him unseen this friendly greeting;
That many another hath done the same
Though not by a sound was the silence
broken ;
The surest pli'dge of a deathless name
is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.
-•-J.onfjfellow. ut January Atlantic.
Now that the tttlk is about coileges,
m.tv uot ail uut.sidor express .sui'iirise
that in one department of study the
colleges (witlt rare exceptiuns) iail to
engage the services of experts. Eng-
lisli literature is supposed to be a nvat-
ter of considerable importance in the
intellectnal training of young persons;
every college has a cliair of belles-let
tres, or English literature, or rhetoiic.
or modern and unclassic literature ot
some kind,—and yet how many of the
cvilleges in this country have professors
in these chairs who know what litera
ture is when they see it ?—three or
four colleges perliaps—but not many
moi'e—so far as the public can be sure
of.
Tliere arc plenty of men in sneh po
sitions who have all the dates at their
fingers’ end', who liave systems, and
theories, and what amount of insight
and real knowledge the gods may al
low. They can publish hand-books of
English literature (very bad ones);
tliey can lecture on aisthetics, on liter
ary periods, on the influence of so and.
so ou something or other, or on some
body or other; but in reality they .do
not know wliat they are talking about.
There are comiiaratively few pieople, at
best, who do kuow what literature is
■when they see it; generally sueli peo-
jile prove their insight and ability
either by writing criticisms on litera
ture (like Saiute-Beuve), or by making
literature (like Longfellow), or both
(like Lowell).
We saw a letter written not long
ago from a young fellow out West, of
literary promise and ambition, to an
Eastern man, asking him which of
three Eastern colleges named he would
advise him to enter. Two of these
colleges were old and famous institu
tions ; the third was new. The person
questioned did not venture to advise
ill favor of any one institution; he told
what he knew about each; but with
reference to tlie new college he said
tliat so long as a certain professor,
wliom he named, remained there, this
would be a good place for hi.s young
Western friend. Tlie professor to
whom reference was made is a teaclier
of literature, who meets all the require
ments mentioned above. He knows
what tlie thing is wlieii he sees it. He
can criticise it. Ho can make it. He
lias tlie entluisiasm of the creative fac
ulty. He stirs up the young men
about him not only to keen apprecia
tion of literature, botli old and new;
but he impels them to acconiplishineut
in literature.
The eff'eet of such an influence upon
young people can liardly be overesti
mated. The liistory of literature—as
of all tlie other arts—is the record of
causes and effects of a cliaracter like
this. That the te:xeher be sb calcalated
to awaken doinumt genius is also tbe
one best ca’culated to correct and i-id-
tivate the taste and elevate the mental
tone of the most oidiiiary member of
his chis-i.
We ve:e talking tlie other day, to a
college piesident, on this subject, and
while his views were, in tlie main, in
accordance witii tliose here given, he
p.-e.sented certain explanations of, and
apologies for, the pi-esout system.
“ Wliat yon are talking about,” lie said
“ is genius, and genius is hard to find.’’
In reply to tliis, it was easy to mention
tlie familiar names of at least a few
American men of letters who have
proved their possession of more genius,
let us say, than tlie majority of the
lirofessors of literature in American
colleges. Tlie reputations of some of
the.se writers may not liave increased
greatly during the last decade or two,
—may not liave increased as iiiueli as
nfglit liave been tlie case, perhaps,
laid tliey been placed, long ago, on
regular salaries, in respectable institu
tions, with the temptation to prose or
jioetic hack-work—fortunately for them
selves and tlie community—removed.
We can conceive of but one motive
wliieli is likely to counteract tlio pres
ent system, namely, the competition
which has lately shown itself in a rage
’for buildings,—as well as in a nobler
rage for higher seholarship, — and
whieli may, not unlikely, take the form
of a competition for “ literary stars.”
Sach a motive is uot tlienoble.st,—but
men are sure to xirove of more force
tlian bricks and mortar, no matter how
important lirieks and mortar may be
wlien conviently and imaginatively
disiflayed.—Scribner, for March.
rctivity and thus produce vigor- from these rivers in sudden,
SLEEP AFTER STEDT.
The principal cause of sleepless
ness with sedentary persons who
doconsiderablemental work in the
evening, is undoubtedly the un
usual rush of blood to the head.
One evidence of this accumula
tion of blood in tlie head is the
cold feet which such persons gen
erally have at the time of retiring.
The distribution of blood whicli
has been so well commenced by
the gymnastic exercises, can be
generally completed by taking a
sponge bath just before retiring.
The bath may be either warm or
cold, as the individual prefers.
The warm bath relaxes the mus
cular system, and promotes sleep
by soothing the activity of the
brain by the withdrawal of the
blood from it. The cold bath at
first empties the capillaries of
their blood by contraction, but
mmediately after the stimulation
ous circulation tlirough tlie skin.
In either case the person should
instantly after the bath get into
bed,
Sometimes after the exercise
and the bath the feet will still be
very cold. Eelief for this will be
found in wrapping them loosely
in some thin woolen cloth or
blanket.
Sleep is also promoted by pure
air. In houses heated by furna
ces, air should be introdned di
rectly from without into the bed
room. To do this safely, the
“British Mechanic” recommends
cutting out two or three holes an
inch wide and three inches long
in the wood-work of the upper
sash where it joins the lower one.
The columns of air ascend quietly
upward, just inside the window
and mix with the heated air in
the upper part of the room with
out producing any dangerous
draughts.
Unless inability to sleep be
constitutional, a man is overtax
ing his energies, tliere is a strain
upon the nerves; in other words,
he is “getting nervous,” and tlie
remedy is, less labor. An over
worked man can not easily put
away care in his leisure hours.
His devotion to his work becomes
morbid. The man who habitu-
allv dreams of his business, is too
much engrossed by it; and the
preacher wlio writes sermons and
attends to parish duties, day and
niglit, will sooner or later become
a victim to a brain disease, or
enfeebled digestion.
Uo not confine the mind too
much at a time—so long as to
feel wear}-. This trite advice is
pertinent to children ot eveiy
growth. Hours to you unsea
sonable, a diet that you do not
relish, a full meal when fatigued,
or want of rest immediately after
meals, may be the source of your
trouble. If the morning bo fa
vorable to sleep, and you enjoy
a late nap, take it, though you
forfeit the reputation of early
rising.
If you find yourself unable to
sleep after a time of freedom from
prescribed duties, it is well to
secure artificial sleep for a few
nights. Nature may be too much
exhausted to perform her routine
unaided. Sleep-inducing medi
cines, in small quantities, will
cause a slumber more refreshing
than fitful sleep, and so far recu
perate the system that it will no
rock}', forest-clad precipices,
nearly a Imndred feet in lieight,
winch for rvell nigh three-foui’ths
of its cii-cumferenco are almost
inaccessible. These natural but
tresses support an irregular plain,
the surface of which rises towards
tlie centre to an eminence on the
side of the Hudson two hundred
feet above its waters, and to an
other on the side of the Harlem
of almost equal height, between
which lies the most level part of
the entire region. This, towards
its northern ends sinks into a
narrow valley or gorge, through
which runs the road to Kings-
bridge. Besides the Kingsbridge,
whicli connected the island with
the main land of Westchester,
there was another bridge a short
distance southeast of it, called
Dyckman’s bridge. Opposite
these bridges the rocky bluffs
recede to the west for nearly a
mile, leaving between them and
the Harlem river a small plain,
on which rise two or three low
hills. At the southern end of this
plain was a little branch of the
Harlem called Sherman’s creek,
still in existence, directly above
and south of which rises the high
eminence on the Harlem above
mentioned, th;i)n termed “Laurel
Hill,” and sipbe, and now, “ Fort
George.”
Tlie highest eminence on the
Hudson, which was soutliwest
from Laurel Hill, was selected by
Colonel Rufus Putnam, in the
summer of 1776, as the site of a
large earthwork fortification for
the defence of and to aid the ob
structions intended to close the
Hudson against the passage of
ships, which, after tlie Comander-
iu-(Jhief, was called “Fort Wash
ington.”
The term “Mount Washington,”
was given in 1776 to the entire
elevated region above described.
It is so called in the letters and
documents of that period, though
sometimesstyled Harlem Heights;
and in the same sense it is here
used, although in our day the
appellation has become restricted
longer be needful to entice
“sweet restorer.”—Selected.
the
MDE.^T WASIIINOTON.
to tiie small part of the region
Child,’we can see,at least by faith,
what may be the destiny of the
liuman race on earth, in future
ages : for surely we shall at last
learn—if not in your day and
mine, in some generation not far
distant—the necessity of giving
human beings a careful education
in their earliest and most impress
ible years. A careful education
doss not mean a deal of molding
and binding, and hacking and
liewiiig of the young immortal,
but it means at least a healthful
happy atuiospliere for soul and
body both, and simple nourish
ment suited to needs of both so-ul
and bodv, and freedom for.
natural exercise of all the devel
oping faculties in a manner
promotive of the private the public
welfare.
For the best success in this
business of educating the young,
associated effort is certainly nec
essary. “All are needed by each
one.” Young parents with only
one child, and they love it so
dearly that they imagine them-
selve ready and able to supply
all its needs. Family influences
are strong, but they ate by no
means allpowerful. Few fathers-
and motliers exert and entirely
wholesome iiiflence upon'their
children, and there are besides
neighbors and schoolmates of
every variety of character. Cur
children have to be educated for
life in the world as they find it,
and so contact with society is as
necessary as it is natural. For
children, is needed a society of
their equals, or the companions,
of school and the playground, and
tliese exert an influence upon our
children’s habits, opinions and
aspirations, too strong to be,
disri^-arded in our account of
educational influences. So, for
very love of those descendants
whom we call “our own,” if for no
broader or more humane reason,
we must labor for the general
education or for the establislrment
of free schools adapted to every
age. At present you and I may
not be able to find public orpiima-
ry schools where we dare to place
immediately adjacent to the old
fortification. That fortification—
and that only—is now called
“ Fort Washington.” —Magazine
of American History.
EARLY EDUCATION.
our tender little ones; the public
causes them to resume a state of
The northern part of the island
of Manhattan is a narrow, liigli
rocky, wooded region of singular
natural beauty ; unique as a fea
ture in modern cities, and pre
cisely such a spot as in an ancient
Greek city would have been
chosen for its Acropolis. Separ
ated from the rest of the island
by the plains of Harlem on the
south, and extending thence to
Kingsbridge on the north, a dis
tance of about four miles, its av
erage width is only about three-
fourths of a mile. Bordered on
the east by the narrow, winding,
umbrageous Harlem, and on the
west by the magnificent Hudson,
the two united by the historic
inlet of Spuyten Diiyvel, it rises
I have placed side by side two
books, neither of them new, which
may serve well to acompliment
each other—“ Ginx’s Baby” and
“The Child.” The former, a good
satire, and treating of politico-
social economy, cannot fail to
deepen in the mind of a thought
ful reader a sense of the danger
of neglecting the early education
of future citizen. Though one
cannot help smiling at the fine
touches of the satirist,one is mov
ed at the same time with horror
and compassion over the condition
of the lower strata of humanity.
Perhaps London is worse than
any American city, but we all
need to be stirred to the depths
of our hearts over the ignorance
and misery and consequent wick-
ednes of millions of our fellow
creatures. If we turn from the
strage fortunes of that typical
character, “Ginx’s Baby,” to
Madame Kriege’s book, “The
schools are sometimes too crowded,
too low in their social tone, and
badly managed in sanitary regards,
as well as deficient in wise intel
lectual culture and whosesome
moral stimulus.
But no parent can afford to
withhold sympathy from the
public schools. When the kin
dergarten is at last a part of the
public school system, all over the
country, we shall have taken
long step toward “peace on earth
and good will among men.” It is
a great thing to accomplished,
but it will cost far less tlian our
present reformatories, and pri
sons, and various police arrange
ments for preventing and pun
ishing crime. All the effort used
to establish good schools for
children of all ages and conditions
tends to make less expenditure
for restraining and i-eforming bad
men and women. Reforming old
sinners is a slow and difficult
task—-we must lay the ax at tho
of the root of the tree of evil, and
work earnestly to train up the
young—all, all of them, rich and
poor, Jew and Gentile—in tho
way they should go.—Agricultur
ist.