(The Rctiiclucr. 
NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
The Jndet and the Jmaton. (Now York: 
Harper & Brothers.)—In the summer at 1867 Prof. 
James Orton resigned the ohntr of Natural Sci¬ 
ences in tho University of Rochester, to head a 
Bcienlilic exploring expedition to tho equatorial 
Amies and ilia river Amazon. This volume from 
Prof. Orton's pen is part of the result of such 
expedition, it presents in a popular style the 
observations of a man happily adapted to the 
work he had in charge. It is not a collection of 
dry scientific es-utys. hut a spirited, lively, in¬ 
tensely interesting description of a Journey 
rarely described because rarely made, across a 
country almost wholly unknown to the world at 
largo. Landing at Guayaquil, on the Paeilic 
Coast, making their way thence Inland and ujt- 
land to Quito, In the very “heart of the Andes," 
Prof- Orton's party traversed tho South Ameri¬ 
can Continent at its widest purl, spending six 
weeks in u tramp through the grandiloquently 
named but literally pathless “Province of tho 
Orient," and supplementing that by a month’s 
gall, more or less, by can00 and steamer, down 
the Napa River and tho kingly Amazon. 
Rarely aro we favored with a more vivid por¬ 
trayal ol' people, customs aud country, than the 
Professor has treated us to. Free from exag¬ 
geration, as wo feel that It Is, eminently truthful 
touching Mm character of both country and in¬ 
habitants, the fruit of careful study of men, 
manners, means and resources,—tho book is a 
valuable contribution to our descriptive and to¬ 
pographical literature. Lucid, yet. condensed, 
it. is much in little concerning a region that is 
wonderfully rich in natural advantages, and 
that is dest ined ere many, years to play an im¬ 
portant part in the world's commerce. Central 
South America has long been a sealed book to 
nil outside its broad limits; it can remain ho 
little monger. As its native wealth becomes 
known,—through the work before us and explo¬ 
rations that will speedily follow,—multitudes 
will dock to the old El Dorado of Piz.VRROastoan 
El Dorado new and unheiml of. and their liar- 
vests will be golden. Brazil innsi. relax its now 
rigid policy at an early day, and then lot our 
North American enterprise atop in and reap the 
abundant profits which are certain. 
Itulwer and Horace .— In varied talent and 
accomplishments Sir Edward Bw.wek I.yjton 
stands pre-eminent among authors. Ho is, in¬ 
deed, the many-sided man of literature. A novel¬ 
ist of high rank,—though not exactly to our lilt- 
fog; a dramatist or acknowledged skill and 
power; an essayist of tare grace, and a poet, 
withal, he comes out, not seldom as t he close 
classical stud out, and astonishes us by his famil¬ 
iarity with classical lore. Ills translations of 
the Odes and Epodes of Horace, just published 
in handsome twelve-mo form by tho Harters, 
exhibit singular facility of expression as well as 
fine scholarship. While wo confers to nospecial 
admiration lor the fumous Latin poet, we can 
and do admire t be translator's delicacy of touch, 
and his exquisite mastery of the rather arbitrary 
diction ,nid iLyiLm lu Ida neat' adherence to the 
original. 
Political Economy. (Boston: Fields, Os¬ 
good & Co.)—The series of essays on tho broad 
science of Political Economy, which Horace 
GnEEbBY contributed to bis well-known Journal 
last year, arc here given forth in compact form, 
making a handsome volume of nearly four hun¬ 
dred pages. They constitute an elaborate argu¬ 
ment against Free Trado, and in favor of Pro¬ 
tection to Home Industry. Although evidently 
prepared In baste, amid duties constantly press¬ 
ing, (hey are able, Incisive, aud exhaustive. 
Comprehensive in their scope, and liberal in 
their Citations from eminent Free-Traders mid 
ProtectionIsts, they cover the whole ground of 
State and Personal Economy, and are worthy of 
careful study. 
Tobacco and fntemperance,~Twa Compan¬ 
ion volumes,—small, but full of pithy matter,— 
have Just been issued by Cow ax & Co., of New 
York, treating of two of tho worst evils that 
besot society. One, entitled "The l/se of To¬ 
bacco vs. Purity, Chastity and Sound Health,” Is 
by John Cowan, M. D.; Ihe oilier, on “ Intem¬ 
perance, it« Evils, Causes uml Remedies," Is by 
Tuns. N. Deeming, M. D. Each Is an earnest, 
manly protest against a foe to human vveul; and 
ivo sincerely hope parents overywhore will do 
their duty by putting both Into their boys’ 
bunds. Moreover, the fa them themselves may 
study them with profit. 
The Phynteal lAfe of Woman. (Philadel¬ 
phia : George Maclean.)— Nowhere have we seen 
a work of this kind so admirably adapted to do 
good as this 12-nlo. of 1113 pages, by Dr. Geo. H. 
NaphlYS of Philadelphia. That tho author is 
not a quack, hut a thoroughly educated, refined 
gentleman and physician, Ilia volume fully 
proves. It is written In a perfectly pure and 
unexceptionable style, and discusses delicate 
Biibjeois in a delicate manner, yet intelligently. 
Mothers may place the book in their daughters' 
hands without scruple; and it should lie so 
placed, universally. No young woman should 
be married while ignorant of what It teaches. 
XeW» Popular Encyclopedia. (Philadelphia: 
T. Ellwood Zell-)—The Twentieth Part of this 
work brings it down to tho word Etjcr. With 
the receipt of each installment we arc more 
firmly strengthened In our good opinion of the 
work in general. Its biographies are accurate, 
appreciative and impartial; tho historical, geo¬ 
graphical and scientific articles are unusually 
clear and com iso; and in Die art* and languages 
there Is evidence of careful research. When 
tlni-hed, the work will contain a muss of infor¬ 
mation not to be found in any other cyclopedia 
extant, and will be of incalculable value. 
.Vtteellaaie/i by IP, .71, Thackeray. (Bos¬ 
ton : Fields, Osgood & Co.)—Volume i V. of the 
“ Household Edition ” of Thackeray's miscel¬ 
laneous writings contains Ids lectures on “The 
Four Gooi’gos," and “Tlio English Humorists;" 
also the “ Roundabout Papers,” “ Roadside 
Sketches," “ Htzbooillo Papers,” Critical Re¬ 
views, etc. The live hundred and ninety-two 
pages are closely filled with most, delightful 
reading. 
The Wondtrn of Pompeii. (Charles Scrib¬ 
ner & Go.)—The present volume of “The Illus¬ 
trated Library of Wonders” is translated from 
the French of Makc Monnier, aud is a vivid 
picture of Pompeii as it now exists, with graphic 
portraitures of social life in that old city before ) 
its burial. It is full of interest. 
UNDER THE BEAUTIFUL MOON. 
POETRY AND MUSIC X? V .A.. A. HOPKINS. 
=1-=*=J- 
—!-1— 
H— 
" T 
~M=\ 
r-1- 
==T 
=S=p 
r—1 -t- 
: « J 
=3= 
r | .| 
-1 » - 
—*i- m — 
LT^-*1- 
W 
II 
kgl- 
_g=f= 
-r— m- — m — 
-3—#- 
tig-LJBjJ 
-0t- 
—1-F- 
i. 
Un - der the 
beau - ti - 
ful 
moon 
to - 
night, 
Si 
- leut - ly 
sleeps 
the 
crowd - ed 
town; 
2. 
Uu - der the 
beau - ti - 
ful 
moon 
_- 
there sleeps 
Ma 
• ny aud 
ma - ny 
a 
fair young 
face; 
—j»~—*— p— 
— r 
_£2 Ik 
m • jm W 
■ 22 ■ m 
=T =1 
-) —■- 
_£2_ fs -I 
-t—-fe-F 
1 I 
3=~ 
t— 
:=P- t= 
—& - 
:it= _: 
Z - % % 
■—!- 
3= 
w 
&-*= 
=1= 
m 
zSEdtl 
s i 
dream - i - 
ly 
floats 
the 
light. 
O - ver 
the 
wau - 
der - era 
up.... aud 
ma - ny 
a 
moth - 
ec 
weeps 
Bit - ter - 
iy 
o - 
ver her 
child’s.. dis - 
f—SI—t 
'—p - a -p— 
—|-1- 
-P 
:~=I 
=1 E—-j =ET~ 
— *3- *21 - zj — 
f=P = E0 
=1 ~ : 
- ! --I s 
_ U _£ 
rt=z-t=z-t= 
*“ L . 
ztz 
9 ^ ^ 
~<9 - S - m — 
-•S’- m — 
— s- 
CHORUS. 
— |—=1 * 
m 
: r 
—*! —g- 
—9 — 
-fi¬ 
ing 
faint - ly 
ll - 
long 
they 
false, till 
tho 
sun 
-sT- 
(8V 
:»T 
a> 
* 
o> 
L » 
4:—I- 
==3=}:—=)=fc . 
r . 
IS 
set, 
Ev - er are heard the rest - less 
Un - dor tho moon may the cheeks he 
r— 
—- 
^-L-\— -1—- 
_ 
- 
— 
— 
!■= = 
g —pH 
-w- 
i 
- 
I 
-I- 
f 
=E£ : 
lz ka: 
m 
feet 
wet, 
(=-r 
p: 
1= 
0> . 
Plod-ding so wea - ri - ly, Sad ly and drea-ri - ly, Oil - ward the last of a hope to greet 
Sigh - iug - ly, tear - ful - ly, Sad-ly aud fear-ful- ly, Ma - ny a heart that would fain for - get. 
O’ -£?' . 
*E»Z^EI 
—F— —*—r~’ ~K—r — r — r 
-«s> —, !- 
Ir- 
4=: 
«=r(»: 
I s 
33= 
SLANDER. 
BY OttACK GI.ENN. 
I’ll close the sightless eyes,—’tis well 
They’ve no more tears to shed,— 
And shut the parted lips; ah, woo 
Is me ! their voice is dead. 
Nor each, nor both, shall longer tell 
The sick soul's agony. 
That's passed, that’s passed, with all of earth, 
Oh. grief! ’tl» well to die. 
I’ll fold the pulseless hands, they fold 
The nmol vex nut e’en for prayer,— 
The soul prays not in Heaven. All 
Us needs are answerod there. 
The sad heart, struggling, boats no more 
Life's heavy, rugged tide. 
It touched death’s stream, and burden-free 
Stands on the. further side. 
Lay straight tho stifT’nlng limbs, and clotho 
The form In spotless white; 
One day e'en this may rise again 
In robes of living light. 
Tho ready coflln waits. Lay In 
The casket, close the lid, 
And softly speulc, and sing, and pray,— 
Thott *• dust to dust ’’ Is bid. 
Be Arm. bo strong, bn gentle now, 
And straw the coffin o’er. 
And sprinkle lightly on the mold — 
Its sound (rate keen and sore. 
Your task Is done. You have been kind 
To nir, and yot within 
My heart I curse you. Had I strength 
Not yours this tusk had been. 
Your lips helled the living, so 
Your touch denied the dead. 
Your tongues have been as double swords, 
That smote, and pierced, and shred. 
You’re silent now, the deaf car gives 
No hoed to slander’s sound : 
You have no words to utter, since 
They have no power to wound. 
’Tis generous to " bury sin 
Within tho sinner’s grave,"— 
Go to your homes, still others live, 
Your craven lies to brave. 
I go to mine I may Got) forgive 
What 1 may not forgot! 
Ilud earth less false and cruel been 
We were not sevoredxet. 
Ionia, Mich., Feb., 1870. 
CVS 
ones for JWualists. 
o> 
THAT GHOST. 
3. 
Under the beautiful moon there go, 
Flaunting their shame in its holy light, 
Faces of loveliness to and fro. 
Straying from purity far by night. 
Goodness and truth for the light of day. 
Under the moon may the bad have away; 
Oh! could the beautiful 
Ever be dutiful, 
Loving might gladden their hearts alway! 
4. 
Under the beautiful moon there rest 
Vicious aud pure as tho hours go on, 
Souls that In love and in life are blest, 
Faces of wretchedness pale and wan ; 
Happiness under tho moon may sleep, 
Misery under the moon may weep, 
Griovingly, sobbingly, 
Paiufully, throbbhigly 
Hearts may make moan over sorrows deep! 
5. 
Under the beautiful tUoon, to-night,, 
Many will dream of the loved and lost; 
Many live over with sad delight [most. 
Hours when they suffered uud sorrowed 
Tears for the lost when the day is fled, 
Under the moon may their names be said 
Fondly, eudeuringly, 
Never so eheeringly 
Memory breathes of the loved and dead ! 
I5Y FRANC BABBITT. 
I saw it, you observe, with my own eyes. 
Some people pretend not to believe in that 
sort of thing; but what I see I know, and 
that was a ghost if ever there was one. 
Sometimes, even now, my flesh creeps, and 
my hair fairly stands on end at the bare 
recoiled ion of it. 
[Puhlichcd with Plane.-Forte accompaniment by Jos. f*. Siiaw, t!ochc#tcr, N. Y. 
j| octal Routes. 
DIG DEEP. 
BY J. W. QUINBY. 
“ Dig deep,” said my father, “ if you would 
have those trees do well." It. is not the cus¬ 
tom. The general rule is, when a man bus 
built a house and must have “shade trees,” 
to make the smallest hole that will possibly 
contain the roots, crowd them closely in, 
throw on a little earth, and abandon them to 
their fate. Moreover, it is quite common 
and by no means inexplicable to see the same 
trees in one or two years, after a feeble strug¬ 
gle for life, standing hard and dry, anil ready 
to yield to a repetition of the experiment. 
Tt, is so in other things. Great results of 
human labor are not often sudden or inex¬ 
plicable. The preparation bus corresponded 
with the work lo be done. Great artists, 
however bright the fire of genius within 
them, have been most assiduous toilers. The 
great sculptor, Canova, before he produced 
Ids “Perseus," dissected every part of the 
human hotly with his own hands, that, the 
minutest parts might be correctly represent¬ 
ed. JIunky Thomas Buckle spent many 
years in preparation for the writing of one 
book, and at last produced a volume whose 
excellence the world is willing to acknowl¬ 
edge. 
Business men do not leap at once from 
obscurity to great reputation and wealth. 
Manufacturers who gain the confidence of 
the people until their names are taken every¬ 
where as the guaranty of faithful work, must, 
build up their reputation as the insects of 
the ocean do continents—by the insensible 
accretions of long periods of time. 
If a man would he a lawyer let him not 
be deceived by a few brilliant examples of 
men like Clay, Lincoln, and some oiliers, 
and so try to make a few months at a 
country school suffice for college and law 
school, but remember that where there is 
one chance to do what these men have done, 
there are a hundred to fail, even with the 
most complete preparatory training. James 
Otis said: 
“ I shall always lament that 1 did not take 
a year or two further for more general in¬ 
quiries in the arts and sciences before I sat 
down to the laborious study of the laws of 
my country. Early and short clerkships, 
and a premature rushing into practice, with¬ 
out a competent knowledge in the theory of 
law, have blasted tho hopes of most of the 
students in the profession who have fallen 
within my observation within these ten or 
fifteen years past.” 
We may fairly conclude that there is no 
profession and scarcely an employment in 
which a reasonable hope of success must 
not be grounded upon years of antecedent 
work and training. Dig deep and wide, if 
you would have your trees grow large and 
strong. 
—-- 
AMONG THE FREEDMEN. 
A young lady, missionary to tkefreedmen, 
in South Carolina, herself the daughter of 
missionaries who both lie buried m the 
Sandwich Islands, finds amusement,, as well 
as more satisfying compensation in lu:r work. 
In»a late letter to Mint WOOD she writes as 
follows: 
Most of my scholars are dressed in clean, 
though very scanty clothes, and very few are 
ragged, although sometimes so patched that 
one cannot tell which was the original in the 
garment. One boy is tin exception to this, 
however; his clothes look as though soap, as 
well as water, was not very plenty at his 
house. 
One day lie came in a pair of his father’s 
trousers (ho is only thirteen years old, and 
bis father a large sized man.) They were 
drawn clear up to It is arm-pits, and rolled up 
most to the knees at the bottom. There were 
sundry rents pinned together with thorns, 
others still gaping wide. A large patch be¬ 
hind of still another color, hung by one cor¬ 
ner, leaving space for a flag of truce—once 
white—to hang out. Altogether, he was a 
subject for an “ artist.” 
I could not keep a smile from my face, aud 
thinking too, that a little ridicule, might do 
him good, I said Lo him in a low voice, as he 
stood by me : 
“ John, did you ever see a scare-crow ?” 
“ Yes, ma’am.” 
“Well, don’t yon think you would do for 
one to-day ?” 
“Reckon I. would ma’am,” lie replied 
demurely, and took his seat without a smile. 
I was fearing I had hurt, his feelings, when 
some minutes after, I was startled by a merry 
laugh, right out in school, and turning about 
saw he was the culprit. 
“ Why, John,” I said reprovingly 
“ Please ma’am, 1 didn’t mean to dun it, 
teacher. I’se j est tort how fit n ny I doe# look /” 
and with an indescribably droll survey of 
himself, he laughed out again, and I need 
not tell you that all the others, as well as 
myself joined with him. 
STARTLING STATISTICS. 
Some statistician has been figuring on the 
cost of an “occasional drink,” and the result 
is positively astonishing. In answer to the 
question" IIow are so many drinking 
houses sustained?” lie shows that 20 men at 
30 cents a day will pay one of flic tippling 
shops $2,190 a year. A man who pays 80 
cents a day for “drinks," pays $109,50 a 
year. This is the interest on $1,504 at 7 per 
cent, at simple interest. This sum, 30 cents 
a day, amounts In ten years to $1,171.05. 
All this is wasted, paid out for “an enemy 
that steals away a man’s brains” and robs 
him iind bis family of every comfort. Intox¬ 
icating liquors give neither strength to the 
body, vigor to the mind, resolution to the 
will, elevation to morals, nor dignity to char¬ 
acter. Strong drink drags a man down from 
his high estate, depraves all his appetites, 
and leaves him in want and misery, the mere 
wreck and semblance of a man. 
The constant use of intoxicating liquors 
makes hard times for many a man; lluis, a 
family of five persons will consume four 
barrels of flour a year, or one t housand and 
fi fly-six pounds of bread. This is nearly three 
pounds a day. Good flour can be bought 
now for $7 a barrel; four times seven makes 
$23; and thirty cents tt day for drinks is 
$109.50, or $81.50 more per year than the 
bread for a family of five persons costs. 
“ But,” says A, “ I only take two drinks a 
day.” Very well, you pay then for your 
drinks $73 a year; only $45 more than you 
pay for the bread consumed by your whole 
family, if it. contains five persons. This sum 
would provide tea and coffee for them. 
Here, then, we see that, the man who pays 
even twenty cents a day for liquor, spends a 
sum sufficient to supply his family with 
bread, tea, and coffee for the year. Is it 
strange that times are hard, that men com- 
plain of the government, and charge that it 
oppresses them with onerous taxes? The 
above figures show how men tax themselves, 
and how they tax the property too. 
--—♦■»■» - 
Dress Makes the Man. —A man is first 
judged by his dress; afterwards by what he 
turns out, to be. There is the story of the 
celebrated painter and poet, Bochin, who 
walking one day in very shabby clothes be¬ 
came more an object of derision than regard. 
He was mortified and went home, and ar¬ 
raying himself In his best again walked out, 
to receive on every hand obsequious atten¬ 
tion. Ills mortification turned to anger, and 
going home he threw his gold-laced coat on 
the floor, and, stamping on it, exclaimed: 
“ Art thou Buchin, or am 11” 
It all happened a good while ago, when I 
was nothing but a young slip of a girl. I 
was to go, one whiter morning, before day¬ 
light, into the house of our next-door neigh¬ 
bor, a certain Mrs. Bulitt, and fetch from 
her chamber a box of matches — lucifcr 
matches, or loco-focos we called them in 
those days. The inmates of the house were 
not at home, having been out, of town on a 
visit for nearly two weeks. I was present at 
the flitting, and had remained afterward with 
the housekeeper while she “set things to 
rights,” as she termed it. Having arranged 
matters to her mind wc left the house to¬ 
gether. 
We bad been at work chiefly in Mrs. 
Bulitt’s chamber, which she used a good 
deal that winter as her private sitting-room. 
I came out last, locking the door behind mo. 
1 then fastened llic doors of all the other 
apartments opening in that, hall, each with 
its own key. Finally I secured the front 
door, which was the only entrance to the 
Bulitt house, and, slipping tho key upon a 
ring with the others, I took thorn home, as I 
had been commissioned to do, and dropped 
them into one of the drawers of my dress¬ 
ing bureau. Nobody visited the deserted 
residence after tlmt until I, myself, went 
there for the matches. Nobody could get 
into it except through the front hall, as I have 
already mentioned. At the back, you see, it 
overhung the banks of Seneca River in such a 
manner Dial, from Mrs. Bulitt’s windows, 
you looked sheer down into the waters, over 
a precipitous descent of more titan a hundred 
feet. With the exception of the front hall, 
above mentioned, the first floor of Dm build¬ 
ing was devoted to ({flic'll#, and bad no com¬ 
munication with the rest of the house. 
I am free to confess that, I did not fancy 
my errand that gray morning, though it was 
a self-imposed task, too. I may as well own 
it, I suppose ,—1 urn afraid. 
The Bulitt house was not held in high re¬ 
pute In our community at that time. It was 
not exactly called a haunted place, but people 
shook their heads when they talked about 
it, and either wondered why it was not 
haunted, or said that by good rights it ought 
to be. 
Really there wore unpleasant associations 
connected with the family history, when one 
stopped to think of it. Mr. Buiutt, for in¬ 
stance, had brought six wives there within 
the last twenty-five years, as brides; and lie 
had with repulsive equanimity, not to say 
downright alacrity, conveyed five of them 
thence to their lust home in our village 
churchyard. This was all right enough. 
That they had died honorably in their beds 
nobody presumed to doubt; but—well, per- 
