Weekly chronicle & sentinel. (Augusta, Ga.) 183?-1864, February 19, 1851, Image 1

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IB I r < zia ill w* 11 IO I I I l/i It/ JO Bl 11 a. 1.1 ir I BY WILLIAM s. JONES. THE WEEKLY CHRONICLE AND SENTINEL Is Published every Wednesday, AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE. TO or INDIVIDUALS sending us Ten Dollars, SIX copies of the Paper will be eent for one year, thus furnishing the Paper at the rate of SIX COPIES FOR TEN DOLLARS, or a free copy to all who may procure us five sub scribers, and forward us the money. 4. HB CHRONICLE AND SENTINEL DAILY AND TRI-WEEKLY, Are also published at this office, and mailed to sub scribers at the following rates, viz.: Daily Paper, if sent by mail-• • .$7 per annum. 1 Tbi-Wsbklt Paper 4 “ •» TERMS OF ADVERTISING. Im Weekly,—Seventy-five cents persquare (12 lines or less) ferine first insertion, and Fifty cent or etch subsequent insertion. (Education. • ' COVTNSTON PEMAL*; SEMINARY Til E PIIKC EP TORI AL careof th above name 1 Institution, bts been conferred upon the subscriber, by the Trustees, for the year 1851. A Urge amount of money has been appropriated by (he chile .j of Covington, and vtciniiy, fur tbv erect ion of a r’emale Ccl'egcin this place. A com modious and splendid edifice will be built, and at! tbe apartments tastily and conveniently fined out. It is eonfidendy expected that the exercises of the Collegiate Jaar?e will commence in January, 1852, under an able and flicifnt faulty. The exercises of the Seminary will commence on the Th rteenth of JANUARY, lc-51. Competent Arewtants will bo procured iu the various depart ments. The special object of this School Is to instruct young liadies in the rudiments, as well as in the more advanced stages of a good education. Follow ing the most approved systems of instruction, with nine yeirs’ exp-rienco in teaching, the subscriber flatters h* in self he can offer to his pupils advantages not surpassed in any School in the State. Particular attention will be paid to Reading Spelling, Arithmetic, Geography, Grammar, History, Composition, Penmanship, <&c., as these constitute the foundation of a thorough and practical education. The coarse of Instruction pursued at this Semina ry i» liberal—embracing every particular nece.’sary to improve the mind, form the manners, enlighten the understanding and prepare the pupil to move with ease, respectability and usefulness in any circle ot society or sphere of action. Much of the happiness of every family depends on a proper cultivation of the female mind. To accom plish this object, and in every respect to meet the wishes of parents and guardians, in relation to their ytx.thful charge, no pa:os or expense will be s f ared. The Principal will devote himself exclusively to the instruction and discipline of the School. He will eon ider hims ls invested with a discretionary pare- tai authority; constantly treating the S udems / with mildness and moderation, governing them by applying the more honorable and generous excite merits to good conduct; but io cases which manifest de l l berate wickedness and obstinacy of character, when all advisory measures shall have proved inef fectual, he will then jro eed to infl cl such punish ment as may I e deemed necessary to rec'aim the pupil and sustain the character of the School. Parents and Guar Hans may be well assured that their children and wards will be accommoda’ed wiib board on he most reasonable tei ms, and every at tention paid to their comfort and convenience. The price of Tuition is reasonable, and in accord ■nee with the times. The Pupils will be charged from the time of entering the Jich-iol until the close of (he terns. All dues must be paid at the close of each term. Music, Wax work. Drawing and Painting, will be taught : y skillful teachers, at reasonable prices. T*» persons at a distance it may be well to say —the locality ishenkhy end desirable; the society plea sant and cultivate For further informatbn addiess the Principal. d3l w3m JAMES I. RANDLE, A. B. Kenesaw Female Seminary. A BOARDING AND DAY SCHOOL, for Young Ladies—Marietta, Georgia. Rev. Tbomas F. Scott, Rector. The f welfifi Sev«ion wilt commence on MONDAY FEBRUARY 3, 18S1. Circulars sent, on application to the Rector, dl-t *Sn fjotcls. WALTON Hu U b 11, BY JESSE 11. ARNOLD, At Monroe, B'allon County Georgia. feG if *“***•- WANKLIN HOTEL, BROAD STREET, Augusta, Ga., one sqaare above the Globo Hotel, on the •ouih side of Broad street, n fr-wly D. B. RAMSEY, Proprietor. EAGLE HOTEL, MADISONVILLE, TENNESSEE. TIIK SUBSCRIBER takes pleasure in returning bis thanks to his friends and nfi:!*. the public, fur the very liberal patronage here tofore extended to him. And having recently «m proved and extended his buildings so as to afford the bast accommodations to almost any number of trav ellers and persons wishing boarding, lie confidently expects an increase of public favor and patronage. Building situated on second block south of the Public Square—one hundred and fitly feel long— rooms regularly laid off and well furnished. He is •Ise -veil prepared to Like the bet-i cure of horses, dec. Stable large and secure—careful and attentive ser vants. In short, the grea’est attention will t.e paid, and pains taken, to render all comfortable who may call at the Engle Hotel. JOSEPH R. RUDD. Madisonville. August 3, l c so. au3 wtf To Contractors and Builders. SEALKD PROPOSALS will be recei.ed until (hs 20>h of February 1b5., for the enction of a Brick EDIFICE fur the Southern Female College The plan of the building, and specification*, can be seen at the Secretary's Office, on anti after the 20th ol January. By order ol the Board. J H MURRELL. Secretary of the Hoard ot Trustees. Covington. Ga., D-c 27, 1850. d3l>wtFv2o LIVERY STABLES, MADISON, GEORGIA. JJgF&tn HARKALL dt, HARRIS leave to announce to«. their friends in Madison and .Air mZ , „ the travelling Public gene rally, (bat they have opened the above S I’Atll IS, and that thqy intend to keep as fine CARRIAGES, BUGGIES and HORbES, ascon be found in any Stables—with careful drivers Citiaetas of Madison' and strangers visiting Madison, by coining to us wifi always find ready accommodation, tu go any where they wi«b on reasonable terms. Mn.lison lan. 29 1860 SPRINGHILL MACHINE SHOP. A FBR BUILL ING AND REPAIRING A hinds ol UOI VON AND WOOL MA lNEßT—making large SCREWS AND ©EARING, of all kinds—TURNING IRON, WOOD, dec., ALSO, WOOL CARDED AND BATTED, six tuJeslram Augusta,on the Louisville road, where the proprietors will be grateful for all orders —orthey can be left atC. A. &M. H. WILLIAMS'S, Augus ts —or directed to Richmond Factcry P. O. »Mk.t HACK 4 DUVAL GROCERIES, GROCERIES. THE SUBhCRIBKRS are nowre- MBH ceiving an extensive assortment of Heavy CcßlnMß sod Fancy GROCERIES, which they offer iu the Planters, Merchants and Families of Geor gia, on the most advantageous terms. Their Store is just above the principal Hotels, snd they solicit ■II purchasers visiting Augusta, to favor them with a call and examine their stock. They now offer the following Goods for sale low : 100 bales Gunny BAGGING, 250 coifs j inch Kentucky ROPE, 50hhds. St. Croix, Porto Ricoand N. O. SUGAR 100 bbis. Stuart's crushed, ground and yellow Do. 250 biqp Java, Rio and l.aguira COFFEE, 300 Begs NAILS, Peru brand, 20ions Swedes IRON, assorted Mms, 200 bbl*. Canal FLOUR, of the Hiram Smith ■nd other choice brands, 100 boxe* SpertD, Adamantine and Tallow CAN DLE*, 10,000SEGARS, of various qualit «•, 100 boxes TOBACCO, of different brands, 3,000 sacks Liverpool SALT, In fine order. And ail other articles usually ke(< in the largest Urooory Huusse. ul-w J. R. & W. M. DOW REUBEN RICH’S PATENT CENTRE VENT WATER WIIKEL. CAUTION. --Having been inhumed that a cer tain porsou named REED, is vending a Water Wheel upon which the water is conducted by means of • sprit scroll, as upm “ Reubsn Ricfi'a Patent Csnirv Vent/* we hereby uoc:fy and caution the publie, that we will prosecute, iu all instance*, for ■ny evasson or infringement upon said patent, both the maker and party using, and wiil be thnnkiul k»r any m form al ion reieriing us to paries thus trestwas teg. GLMIRAr A CM. Vl '-W- I© Wb. STRAYED, FROM the subscriber, near Raysville, Columbia county, a email bav PON Y, 4 or 5 years old, a natural pacer, and branded wnh the Utter V, Any information ©f him will be thankfully y.vsd JaS W. A. L. UOLI.INR. TO PLANTERS. ITI would respectfully inform the Planters that tv we furnish SMALL GRIST MILLS, suitable so be at to Gig Gears, ol difier H * cnl < ieA » an< * :n ■ f different patt c* t at the lowest pri Sl’ ceß ' These Mi L t J. have given the fl highest satiaibe- ■ tnio, andean compared with an * raa> 2 North. '’Please give u> • call baiace buying c »e«a« ie. SCHIRMER d WIGAND, Mill Sicae Ma.a&eturen, jal3-wtf AthtuKa, Ga. | htt. JA YN ks- T X VtC FORA NT. ■-F Di. Jaynes' (.Unstoative Balsam. *’ “ Hair Tenia. ** *• AReravve. “ M S«nati*r PiUs. Fur sals by >«x> "M H TVTT IHr.wt. eesßioa mu»taku...T > u « ,7 j«3l U. B. FLVMU a CO. SELECTED POETRY. Prom the Lauiscihe Journal. Tha fcllawing exquisitely beautiful piece of poe try, from the pen of Miss L. Virginia Smith, the auther of our late New Year's Address, was pub lished more than a year ago in the Memphis Ap peal. When we first saw it we di J not know by whem it was written, but we knew and prcdictsd Gat the writer would win a reputation opal to that cf any poet tn this nation: MOTHER, HOME, AND HEAVEN. ET MIML. VISG'MIA fMITB. Mother mine 1 Ths earth is cold above U-.eu lung Fbey laid thee down witirn the silent tomb With breaking heirts, end smoothed the turf above Thy dreamless slumber. Glorious summer-time Was there, to blend her ringing harmonies Os bird, and breeze, and stream, and waterfall— As though a w ng ha I swept the harp l Os universal Nature, till its chonls Thrilled the soft air with thousand melodics, A ecanding ant horn to the mghty One, Whose Lrcatb bad ki-sed Creation into life. Unheeded on the •‘dull, cold ear of death” That fairy music trembled, and the words Os “dust to dust, ’ jarred like a discord strange Aisng that strain o! rieh, wild harmony, Aad tdJ its origin was Lutcf earth. I.'cng weary years have mingled with the Past Sißte from thy grave they slowly turned away, As from their hearts the >( irit of deep r Guhedin inw, broken r-acs, and s r.i Ideringsought A darkened home, to dwell uo mure wi h thee <ive in the realaes cf Hope ai.d Memcry. The earth is cold above thee, and to-day The wintry aurm waih through the leafless trees And righa around thy monumental urn Its requiem. Hut far within tny heart Chou iMist a brighter being— a» thou vast, ieyous and young and proudly beaunfui, d tmemlnnce cannot trace —but as U»ou art More lovely th&u before a withering blight Had touched thy cheek’s ycung Liociu or pale dis ease Plefided its fading ro?es—ere the weight Os Itarful Buffering crashed thy tender form ; I’bsu art before me in the dazzling light, Os angel beauty, robed iu loveliness — A soft Etar gleaming through the mist cf life, A radiant seraph by the throne of God 1 Homo far away I Lite dew on lily leaves th t gentle tones Os olden time fall e’er my sleeping spirit. Remembrance, faithful to her guarded trust, Is bending o’er mOj and her pencil fair Traces u|>on my heart the laded times Os eld familiar scents. It stirs my soul As waving flame is shaken by the wind At midnight hour. I hear the solemn dirge Os Ocean rolling on to meet the shore. And winds that murmur thro 1 the whispering plact; Blue are tho skies above me, sc/ily through I be dim recesses of a linden gruve The streamlet wanders—and the wild bird's aong Sweeps by me with a tone of summer hours, And now a train of glorious images Ctme brightening up along the shadowy past, Blent with die music cf departed years ; A pilgrim train—and o’er a “bridge of sighs” i hey pass, to bow before the ruined shrine, Aad broken altar-stone where burned the light Os pleasant hare# that perished long ago — And bring again the wreaths of faded joys I bat aeoauder round a long neglected i/ro Enshrined ir> memory s t« tcple. Uy spirit revels, and my heart forgets In the soft mazj of that bewildering dream I bat it is bJ a wanderer. Strangers now Circle aro.nd that glowing hearth where once A Joyous trio gathered—stranger hand Will train the intent buds that cluster o’er Our vine-clad casement —they will thrill to bloom, And birds and tees will lull them to roposs At evening's hour with murmured melody, But the young heart that tremuled to their lay And laved lb era in its purity, will to Par, far away—and when in stranger lands It wanders forth, without one loving eye To light its wayward path, iui d. earns shall be Os thee, sweet home, a*soft a whisper falls l.roely and sweet and fraught with melcdy. "Blest art the loved l far theirs is a foreshadowing (JJ Paradise P* Heaven alovc! Strang feeling with its deep resistless tide Os wilderiug visions—hopes of rainbow light, And wreaths of aspiration like a cloud L‘s incense sweet eternally ascending Pleats ever up to thcc I Within this world Os all things mutable and flee:ing fair, How pants the soul to drink that living murmur “Aiwcrcr faithful''— tones t‘ at live and love, And never change. Vain hope—and verier trust; 1 hose fearful charastcra are s atnpcd upon All earthly things—and immortality, That amaranthine signature cf God, Brets not, lur us, on aught i-cnealh the skies. Nothing to us is changeless, tare the faith And hope of Heaven, 'mid the broken g ms And crushed ruse petals of departed |uys I.thmaculate—end amid the tainted breath Os worldly pa-eicn, windsthat sweep around it, laden with memories cf a reckless past, Dial with the mystery of future hours. It rests, an ungei with a folded wing. There is a soil, dim twilight of the heart, And glowing memories linger far along its hushed horizon, with a beauty like The clouds of evening floating as they sleep. Mother, ’tie then that imly thoughts of tbco And koine; end Heaven where thou art reigning now, Gome stealing onward through the shadowy gloom. I Lear the waving of their angel wi gs Across that twilight sky—and seem to list The cadence of thy low, sweet muvic tone That perished long My heart is lone And weary now —undoh that it saould str ivo i'hua on weal words to pour a stream of fire, Winging ths flame from lava veins that burst Prom | asaion'd fount, when it should wait the hour, The blessed hour when it shall find once more and Home in Heaven I Memphis, Jin , 1519. l’ixconMUß. OUR CHILDREN... -IT WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER. 11 The Reau 1 -if rd and Return Not." They are stricken, darkly stricken ; Faint an J fainter grows each breath, Aad the shadows round them thicken, Os the doiknets that is Death. We are with them—bending o’er them— And the Soul in sorrow vuith, •Woald that I had pass’d before them, Tj lbs darkness that is Death.’ They areslsspieg, coldly sleeping, In the gravo-yc.rd, still and lone, Where the winds, above them sweeping, Mvk o a melancholy moan. Th ckly round ns—darkly o’er us— is the f-Mit of sorrow thrown; Ail our heart-beats make the chorus Us that melancholy mean. They are waking, brightly waking, Frcrn the shtmberv of the tomb, And, enrobed in Light, forsaking Its impenetrablegloctn. T*s> sit firing—they have lircu— And their spiiit-larnts illume, la ue darkness of Death's prison. The iinpeu six able glocm. They are passing, upward passing, Deate/i beings ot our love, And their spirit-forma are classing in the beautiial above ; There we see them—there we hear them— Through cur dreams they ever move ; An < si krg (a be aneir them, In ths beautiful above. Thty are gsing, gently gainc, In their angel robes to stand, Wxcrs the river cf life is flowing 1 In the far eff distant land, Wi shall racurn them—we thill miss them Ficmcur broken little band ; Hut oar soul shall at ill caress iLem, • In the far-off silent laud. They are sieging, sweetly tinging, Fax bey end the va Isol Ni b ht, Where the angcLharps are ringing, And the Pay is ever biighu We Ma love them—we can greet them — From this land of dimmer light, Till tied takes us hence to mest them, Where the day is ever bngh'. A CHRISTMAS HYMN. It was the calm and silent nirfht; Seven hundred years and fifty-three, Had Roms been growing op to night, Ami now was queen of laud and sea. No sound was fee*rd of cl tailing ware — Peace brooded e’er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, dote, end Mars Held undisturbed their ansient reign, la the sclemu midu ght, Centuries ago! ’Twas in the calm and silent night, The senator of haughty Rome Q Impatient urged hie chai id’s flight, From lordly revel rolls g home; Triumphant arches glesmmg His breast with thoughts of boundless sway ; What irek<d the Roman —what aeiel A l*ltry province far away, in ihe solemn midnight, Cbbluhm ago 7 Within that'province far away, Weut pkxidmg home a weary boor; A streak of light before him lay, Fallen through a hall-shut d«>or Across his path. He passed— for naught Told what was g> icg on within ; How keen the stars, ius only thought The air. bow calm, and csld, and thin, In ths solemn midnight, Can srjes ago! O, strange indiflerence ! low and high Drowsed ever common joys and cares: The earth wav still—bet knew not why The world was listening—unawares How calm a rasment may precede One that shall thrill the world forever I r To that still raoairnl ncue would heed, » Man's d.>ciu was linked no mors to sever, in the solemn midnight, Centuries ago! it is the calm and solemn night! A th- usand bells nog out. and throw, Their joyous peals abroad, and smite The darkness—charmed and holy now! The mg bl that erst no shame bad worn, To it a hafpy name was given ; i For in that subh lay, new born, The Pnaeeof earth and heaven, t !n the solemn midnight, » Centuries ago. THE GRAVEYARD AND ITS CONTENTS. ? There lie levelers levs’ed, dans done up in them* selves, i There are book* i’ers finally laid cn their shelves, i Hoc anally theae he upcight polK c aas. [ciana: l\»-a-dus with the r seats sleep faultless phyei- Tbere are slave driven quietly whipped under ground. There Uok binders, done up in boards are fast bound ; There the babe tbafsuchm is supplied *i:h abenh There men without legs getibeir six feet of earth; There lawyers repo e, each wrapt up in his case, There seekers of o hee are sure of a place: There defendant end plaintiff arc equally caet, Ti.sre shoemakers qeietly stick to their last; Cbera brokers at length become sileot *1 stocks, There stage drivers sleep without quitting their box. Frasers LEI DY s sarsaparilla blood pills far sals by ja22 WM. H. TUTT. OUR SERIES OF PICTURES FROM REAL LIFE.-NO. 5 0 EMBRACING ILLUSTRATED TALES, SKETCHES, ESSAYS, &c. W flk ' ; ' S % W®V\ ''nf fl Sfiflllii jgi wJI. ®WI SHOWING WKY THE DINNER WAS LATI. From Arthurs Home Gazette. CONFESSIONS. OE A HOUSEKEEPER. BY. MRS. JOHN SMITH. NO. IL SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. Was there ever a good cook who hadn’t some prominent fault that completely over shadowed her professional good qualities? If my experience is to answer the question, the reply will be— no. I had been married several years before 1 was fortunate enough to obtain a conk that could be trusted to boil a potato, er broil a steak. I felt as if completely made up when Margaret served her first dinner. The roas was just right, and all the vegetables were cooked and flavored as well as if I had done it m.self—in fact, a little better. My husband eat with a relish not often exhibited, and prais ed almost everything on the table. For a week, one good meal followed anoth er iu daily succession. We had hot cakes, light and fine-flavored, every morning for breakfast, with Coffee not to bo beaten—and chops or Meiiks steaming from the gridiron, that would have gladdened the heart of an epi cure. D nner was served, during the time, with a punctuality that was rarely a minute at fault, while every artie'e of food brought upon the table, fairly empted the appetite. Light rolls, rich cakes, or •• Sally Luns,” made with out suggestion on my part, usually met us at teatime, in fact, the very delight ul Margaret’s life appeared to bo in cooking. She was born fur a cook. Moreover, strange to say, Margaret was good-tempered, a most remarkable tiling in a good cook ; and more remarkable s.ill, was tidy in her person and cleanly in her work • She is a treasure,” mi id I to my husband, one oay, as we passed from the dining room, afier having partaken of one of her excellent dinners. “She’s too good,” replied Mr. Smith— “ tco good to la»t. There must be some bad fault about her—good cooks always have bad faults—and I am looking for its appearance every day. “ Don’t talk so, Mr. Smith. There is no reason in the world why a good cook should not be as fau.iL*ss ns any ono else.” Even while 1 said this, certain misgivings i itruded themselves. My busband went Co his s ore soon as er. About three o’clock Margaret presented her sell, all drucSt d io go out, and said that she was going to see her sister, but would be. back in time io get tea. She came back, as she promised, but, alas for my good cuok ! The fault appeared. She was so much intoxicated that, in a templing to lift the kettle from t.' e fire, she let it fall, and came near scalding hereoif dreadfully Oh, dear I I shall never forget the sad t »sap pointment cf that hoar, flow the pleasant images of good dinners and comfortable break fasts and auppe s faded from my vision. The old trouble was to come back again, for the faultless cotk had manifested a Gult that vitia ted, for us, all her goed qualities. Ontho next day, 1 told Margaret that we must part, but she begged so hnd to be kept in her place,and promised good behaviour in future so earucs ly, that I was prevailed ou to try her again, it was of no use, however— iu less than a week she was drunk again, and I had lo let her go. After that, for soma months, we had burnt •teaks, waxy potatoes and dried roa-t beef to our hearts’ content; while such luxuries ns muffins, hot cakes and the like, were uol to be reen on our uninviting table My next good couk had such a violent lem per (hail was actually airaid to show my face in the kttebeu I bure wi b her until pa ienco was no lunger a virtue, and then s.’.o went. Biddy, wno took cnarge of my *• kitchen cabi net.” a year or so afterwards prov d herxelf a culinary artist of no ordinary merit. But, alas, Biddy “kept a room;” and so many strange disappear a rices of bars of soap, bowls of sugar, prim's of butter etc., took place, that I was forced to the unwilling conciuan n that her room was simply a s ore room for the •urpluesHge of mine. Some proity s ror g evidences on this point comms to my mind, I dismissed Biddy, who was particularly lorwaid tn declaring her honesty although 1 had never ■ceased her ot being wanting in that ines una ble virtue. sSoimr us my experience in cooks have been amusing enough. Or I shoul Ira her say, are ■ musing co ugh to think about : they were ra her annoying a’, the lioie of their occurrence One of these experiences I wdl relate. 1 ba f obtained a “ treasure ” in a new cook, who was not only good tempered and cleanly, bn understood her business reasonably well Kuty was a little ditfsrenl from former incum hems of her office in thia, that she toak an in terest in reading, and generally dipped in o the morning paper before it found ns wav up stairs. To this, of course I had no objectien but was rather pleased to see it. Time, how ever, which proves all things,sh wed my cook to be rather too literary tn her inclinations 1 often found her reading, when it was but rsas on-bie for me lo expect that she would be working; and overdone or burnt dishes occa sionally marked the degree iu which her mind was absorbed iu her literary pleasure, w hich 1 discovered in limo, were not ot the highest order—such books as the “Myatema of Paris’’ furnishing the aliment that fed her imagination Jane." said my husband tn me one morn ing, as he was about leaving the house, “ I believe 1 must invite my old friend Green to dine with tne to-day. lie will leave the city 10-morrow, and I may not h ive the pleasure of a social hour with him again for \ea«a. Be side* 1 want to introduce him to you. We were intimate as young men, and much at inched to each other. 1 would like you lo know him,” “ Invite him by all meant,” was my reply. “ 1 will send home a turkey from market,” said Mr. Smith, as hi* stood holding on to the open door. “ Tell K tty to cuok it just Mrs. Green I am told is a ti st rate housekeep er, and 1 feel like showing you off to the best ad vantage.” •• Don’t look for too much,” I replied, smil ing, •* leat yon be disappointed.” Mr. Bmi h went away, and I walked back tn the kitchen door to say a word to K tty. As 1 looked in, the sound of my feel on the floor caused her to start. Bhe was standing near a window, and at my appearance, she hurriedly concealed soinetbiag under her aprou. “ Kmy,” said L ” we are to have company iodine with us to-day. Mr. Smith will send home a turkev, which you must dress and rook in the best manner- 1 will be down during the morning to make some lemon puddings. Be sure to have a good fire in the range, and see that ail the drafts are clear ’ Kitty promised that every thins ahoald be right, and I went up flairs. In due limo the ’ tnarke ing csrue home. About eleven o’clock I repaired to ihe kitchen, and, much to my sur- : prise, found all in d’sorder. What in the world have you been doing all the morning?” said 1 feeling a hide fretted Kitty excused herself good naturedly. and commenced bustling about to pu. things to rights, while 1 gut flour and other articles ne ceseary for my purpose and went to work at ray lemon puddings, which were, in due time, ready for the oven. Giving all necessary di- I rec lions as to their baking, and charging Kit ty to be sure to have everything ou the tab.’e precisely ai our usual nour for dicing. 1 went ; up into the nursery to look after the children, and to see about other matters requiring my attention. Time passe l ou until to my surprise. I heard the c.ock strike one. 1 had yet to dress for dinner. ••1 wonder how- Kitty is ccmingon?” said Ito myself. •• I hope she will not let the puddings get a : i dried up.” But. I fell too much in a hurry to go down and sauafy myself as io the s ate of affaira in ibe ki.chen; and took it for grimed that all was right A l.ttle while afterwards. 1 perceived an odor as of somethin? burning. “ What is iha ? ’ came instinctively from my lip. “If Kitty has let the puddings burn ! ” Quick 88 thought I turn&d from my room, and went gliding down stairs. As I neared ;he kitchen the •meil of burned flour, or pastry, grew stronger. AU was s lent below; <nd, I approached in s ienco. On entering Kitty«domain, Ipercered that lady seated in front of the with a brown covered pamphlet novel held close to her face, iu the pages of which the was completely lost. I AUGUSTA, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 19. 1851. never saw any one more entirely absorbed in h book. No sign of dinner waa any where to be seen. Upon the range was a kettle of wa ter boiling over into the fire, and from one of the ovens poured forth a dark smoke, that told ’oo plainly the ruin of my lemon puddings. And. to cap all, the turkey, yet guiltless of fire or dripping pan, was upon the floor, in possession of a atrange cat, which had come in through the open window. Bending over the still entranced cook, I read the title of her book. It was “The Wandering Jew.” “ Kitty ! ” I don’t much wonder, now, at the start whe gave, for I presume there was not the zephyr’s softness in my voice. “ Oh, ma’m I ” She caught her brae'h as her eyes rested upon the cat and the turkey “Indeed, ma’am!” And then she made a spring towards puss, who, nimbly eluding her, passed out by tho way through which she had come in. By this time I had jerked open the oven door, when there camo rushing out a colud of smoke which instantly filled the room. Aly puddings were burned to a crisp ! As for the turkey, the cat had eaten off one side of the breast, and it was no longer fit for the table. “Well! this is fine work!’’said I, in an angry, yet despairing voice. “Fine wark, up on my word ! ’ “Oh, ma’am!’’ Kitty interrupted me by saving, “I'll runoff and buy another turkey, and have it cooked in time. Indeed I wiil, ma’am ! And I’ll pay for it. It’s ail my fault! oh dear ! dear me! Now don’t be an gry, Mrs Smith! I’ll have dinner all ready in time, and no one will be any the wiser for this.” “ In time!” and I raised my finger towards the kitchen clock, the hands of which marked the period o’ half pas: one—two o’clock was our regular dinner hour. “ Mercy !” ejaculated the frightened cook, as ehe s ink back upon a chair, I thought it was only a line pa-t eleven. “I am sure it was only eleven when I sat down just to read a page or two while the puddings wero in the oven ! ” The truth was, the •* Wanderins Jew,” in the most exciting portion of wit ch she hap pened to be, proved 100 much for her imagin ation. Her mind had taken no note of time, and two hours passed wi'.h the rapidity of a few minutes. “ I don’t exactly comprehend this,” said my husband, as he sat down with his old friend, to ! dine off’ of broiled steak and potatoes, at half past two o’clock, “ L’a ull die fault of ihe ‘ Wandering Jew ?’ ” I replied, making an effort to drive away, with a smile, the red signs of mortification that were in my face. “ Lho Wanderinff Jew!” returned my bus band, looking mistified. “ Yes, tho fault lies with that imaginary per sonage,” said I, “ s range as it may seem.’ And then I related the mishaps of the morning. For dessert we had some preserved fruit and cream and a hearty laagh nv r the hum; pud dings and dHfigurnd turkey. Poor Kitty couldn’t survive the mortifica tion She never smiled agiin iu my house; and at the close of ihe week removed to anoth er home. Church Etiquette.—A gentleman of Montgomery, Alabama, now in Rome, in a letter to a friend, mentions the following inci dent as i'lustrativo of the peculiar and ridic ulous etiquette still strictly enforced on those visiting me Vatican, while the Pope is person- 1 ally officiating: “We had rather a funny adventure last Sun- • day. We understood hat :he Pope would of ficiate in the Chapel in the Vatican, and con- 1 eluded to go We also understood that we must dress entirely in black. So my wife and Mrs H , (the lady from Nashville,) prepared for it. Mr H. ul-o dressed entirely in black, i I had a pair cf mixed pantalootH on, but as it ; was co!d 1 in en fed to keep my overcoat on. (a black one,) and thus squeeze in. So after ■ passing through the long eiegan: passages and scores of soldiers, we reached the ame-room Tho ladies took off’their bonnets and pm veils on their heads. We all walked up to too door, when two soldiers with long spears in’.ercept- | ed me and told me I could not go in. 1 at ; once took the hint and retired, and told Mr. 11. to go in with the ladies lie accordingly s epped to the door and was also refused. And on inquir mg what objection they had to him, it was found that he had a frock iuv.ea I of a , dress coat on, and none but the ladies could be admitted. The idea < f a man’s being kept ou; ol a Christian church on account of the cut <>f ihe coat, hud never entered my head be- | fore coming to Rome. We have been ou the dome of St. Peter’s I was in tho Bali with six others at thosame time. Tne Mediterra nean can be seen for a long distance on the ue-t. And the snowy mountains on the east, ftom this position. We were yesterday, through t ie lately excavated rooms of Nero’s palace. lamat a loss to know how the arch es of th sas well as other ruins in Rome have stood. Almost every one is as perfect as when it was built. Nearly ail the temples palaces, baths, «&c., were b tid of brick and covered with marble. The marb e, however, his b en taken away centuries since. ( have got a piece of the mortar (for Mr. Figh,) from the baths of Carra Calla, where the magnificent arches of 50 feet are standing aa perfect as they were eighteen centuries ago ” The Reptile Room by Night.—The fol lowing striking a count of the reptile room in the Zool gical Gardens, Regent’s Park, we take with seme abridgement, from Bentley’s London Miscellany: ••About ten o’clock one evening diirng the last spring, in company with two naturalists of eminence, we entered that apartment. A small lantern was our only light, and the faint idumination of this imparted a ghastly charac- i ter to the scene before us. The clear plate glass which faces the cages, was invisible, and it was diflicu’t to bc.ieve the monsters were in csifinoment arid the spectators secure. Those who have only seen the boas, and pythons, the rattlesnakes and cobns lazily hanging iu fes toons trum the forks of the trees in the dens, or sluggishly coiled up, can form no concep tion ol the appearance and actions of the same crea'ures at night. The huge boas and py thons were chasing each other io every direc i tion. whisking about tne dens with the rapidi ty of lightning, suinviiuies clinging in huge coils round t. e branches, and errwining each other in massive folds, the i separat ng they would rush over and under the branches, hisa ing and iaahing their tails in hideous sport Ever and anon, thirsty with their exertions, they would approach the pans of water aud drink eagerly, lipping it with their forked tongues. As our eyes became accustomed to the darkness, we perceived objects belter ; and on the tree, in tho deu of the biggest serpent, we perceived a pigeon quietly roosting, ap parently indifferent alike to the turmoil which i was going oh around, and the vicinity of the monster whose meal it was >oon to form. In ; mo dou of one of the smaller serpents was u i little mouse, whose panting sides and fast bea ting heart showed that i ,at least, disliked its company. * * During the time we were looking at the creatures, ail aarta of odd noises were heard A strange scratching against the g!ass would be audible—it was the carnivorous j iizard endeavoring to inform us mat it was a fast day witn him. entirely contrary to his in clißation. A sharp hiss would startle us from mother quarter —ado we stepped back invol URtaniy as the lantern repealed ihe inflated ■ hood aud threatening action of a cobra. Then a rattlesnake would take umbrage, and, souu d;ug an alarm, would mike a stroke against ihe glass intended for our person. The fixed gaze from the brilliant eyes of the huge py ibOBS was mure fantastic than pleasaii;—and ihe scene, taking it altogether, more exciting than greeable. Each of the sp ctators involun tanty stooped to make sure that his trousers j were well strapped down; as if our nerves were jes mg. a strange sensation would every now and then be felt resembling the twining of a small snake abaut the legs Just before leaving me house, a great dor beetle, which nad flown in attracted by the light a ruck with some force againat our right ear. Startled we ; were tor at me moment our impression was mat it was some member of the happy family I around us who hadi tvored u 3 with a mark of ♦ his alien non.” A returned California dog has made bis ap paaranca at his old borne ib Bariington, lowa. He was left ax the mines by his master, but by ■ a?me uieaas has worked his passage back Like a good ainy ot ihe bipeds, he brought I noUuag back but bones ! Effects of Love a KD Hafpi ’ nesw on the MmD From Deer brook. — There needs no othtrproo that happiness is the most whole some moral atmosphere; and that in which the irnmortality o f mar , is destined ultimately to thrive, than the elevation of soul, the religious aspiration, which attends tho first assurance, the first sober certainty of true k>ve. There is much of this religious aspiration amidst a’l the warmth of virtiwtif affections. There m a vivid love of God in tne child that lays i> cheek against the cheek of iu mo (her, and clasps its arms around her neck. God is thanked (per haps uncon-ciously) for the bright ness of h s earth, on summer even ings, when a brother and sister who have long been patted pour out their heart alorcs to each other and feel their course of thought brightening as it Dins When he aged parent hears of the honors hi children has won, or looks round upon their innoowt faces ihe glorj of his decline, his mind revert* to Him who in- them prescribed ti e purpose of his life, and bes.ow ed its grace, But religious as is the mood of every good affection, none is so devotional as that of love, cs pecialiyso called. The soul is then the very temple .of adoration, of faith, of holy purity. °f heroism, of charity. At such a moment the human creature rhoots up into the angel ; there is nothing on eahrt too defiled for i s charity—noth ing iu hell 4i;.& »MDaliing £o. its he roism— nothing in heaven too glori □us for its sympathy. Strengthened, stisamed, vivified by that most myseiious power, union wi.h another spirit, it feels itself well eet forth on the way of victory over evil, *ent out con quering and to conquer. There is no other such crisis in human life. The philosopher may experience uncontrolling agitation in veri fying his principle of balancing systems of worlds, feeling perhaps, as if he actu ally saw the creative hand in the act of sending the planets forth on their everlasting way; but this philosopher, solitary seraph as he may bo regarded amidst a myriads of men knows at such a moment no emotions so di vine as those of the spirit becoming conscious that it is beloved—be it the peasant girl in the meadow, or the daughter of rhe sage reposing in her father’s confidence, or the aruzau beside his loom, or tho man of letters musing by his fireside. The warrior about to strike the de cisive blow’ for the liberties of a nation how ever impressed with the solemnity of the hour, is not iu a state of such lofty resolutiou as those who, by joining hearts, are laying their joint hands on the whole wide realm of futu rity for their own. The statesman who, in the moment of success, feels that an entire class of social sins and woes are annihilated by hi« hand, is not conscious of so holy and so inti mate a thankfulness as they who are aware tnat their redemption is come in the presence, of a new and sovereign affection. And the.se are many—they are in all corners of every land. The statesman is the leader of a nation, the warrior is the grace of an age, the philoso pher is the birth of a thousand years; but the lover, where is ha not? Wherever parents look round upon iheir children, there he has been—wherever children are at play together, there he will soon be—wherever there are roofs under which men dwell, wherever there is an atmosphere vibrating with human voices, th -re is the lover, and there is his lofty worship going on, unspeakable, but revealed in the brightness of the eje, the majesty of the pre sence, and the high temper of h. di-coune. Singular instances of Monomania in the 80-ton Lunatic Hospital.—The annual re port of the Board of Visitors of th* Boston Luna'ic Hospital has just been published by the City Authorities. From the accompanying report of Dr. Charles H. Stedman, the Super intendant of the Hospital, we copy the follow ing interesting notice of the decease of several of the patients in that inatitu ion. The Superintendent in noting the moitality among the ir mates, remarks : “Among those who have died within the year, there have been several pa'.ien's who have usually attracted considerable attention from visitors in coosequence of certain pecu liarities in the manifestation of their disease. The Queen of America lives no longer. The Queen of England, who occupied a room op posite to hers, will no more ridicule her pre tensions by saving to her as she often did— ‘How absurd! You know there is no such personage.’ The old German woman of eighty five years has died ; she who declared herself to be the mother cf God, and who made and governed die world. “ Tne old man whoye tenderness and care towa.Ls j <•* epileptic pa- tient were so remarkable, and who fancied that salmon were generated in him, and came out of his wrist—he too has gone.aa also has the woman with a beard, the presence of which became the cause of her insane melancholy— the man, a farmer, who had discovered, as he imagined, a new compost, by means of which all the sand of Cap Cod could be made to bud and blossom as the rose—the old woman who suffered ihe most agonizing terrors of a dis euse//conscience, and wiio was almost inces santly demanding io be taken to execution for ihe murder of her husband and children—the woman who was accustomed to declaim so vehe mently in favor of Madame Dorse mo nt, aud woman’s rights. These and many more have left us, and.shaking off iheir happy or unhappy delusions, we would Lope have entered on the enjoyment of the realities of a biessed eternity.” 22 HUMOROUS. “ Herb’s till ’ye, Jemmy.”—An Irishman had been sick l<»r a lung lime, aud while in this ?t ite would occasionally cease breathing, and Lfe be apparently exur.ct for pome lime, when he v ould again come ,o On ono of these oc casions, when he had just awoke from his sleep. Patrick asked him : “ zXn’ how’ll we know, Jemmy, when you are dead ; you’re after wakin’ up ivery lime ? ” “Bring me a glass o’ grog, and say to mp. hero’s ul ’ye Jemmy, an’ i! I don’t raise up an’ dhrink then bury me.” Monomania —The fol.owing is a nice bit of ■satire on tho rather too common pretext of insanity un the part of the defeudant in crimi nal cases: “ I’orw, what’s monomany ?” ‘ Why. you see. D.ck, when a poor fel’er steals, it is called larceny; but when it’s a rich ’un, the jury says its monomany. and can’t help it—that’s it.” Rare —A pious soldier, an economical sai lor, a rich author, an impartial critic, a moder ate reformer, a smoker who is not just un the brink of leaving off a well (ed boarder, a silent barber, and a successfal gold digger. Tooth Drawing.—Martin Carey was the boy sure enough for frolicking, fighting, dan cing or drinking. But sometimes Martin need io get so corned that it was to ally impossible for him to define the exact difference between a full moon and a new made cheese. It was on one of these nights on which Mar lin desired to have a real thundering spree, that he found his way to the sign of ‘ tho hen’s tooih and the cat’s feather,” where around a table sat as merry a «et of devil-may -1 care boy. as ♦ ver beat an exciseman or thresh ed the floor of a barn to the tune of “Indeed, . thin, you shan’t.” Down sat Martin and on went the spree far two good hours, but tneir money was run out. and tha little cock nosed, crabbed faced host would givo out no more liquor until ‘scores’ were settled. In tins dilemma a happy thought shone in upon the merry mind of Martin Ct rey. “Arrah boys,” said be, “ia it money yees want ? ‘ Ay, ia it.” ‘•Why thin, ye poor benighted set of crules: sure it s aisy enough to get all the money re quired to make us all as drunk as Basahus’ sow.” “ How. Manin ? come boy, tell how.” ‘ Wbooaht—spake tinderty now,” said Martin leaning over tho table, “sure you ail knew ould Docther Strong ?” “To be sure we do, the bloody old resurrec tionist !” “Be aisy now and listen. Just you get a sack and put me into it body aud bones, and carry me io Strong’s ; you’ll get ready money for the body, and leave tha rest to me.” i No time was last —’.ha bag was got—Martin was duly bagged, and the boys were not slow, in convey ing meir funny bunhen to Doctor Strong's. i Arriving at the door, they very cautiously t knocked, and were as cautiously answered by t Mrs. Strong. The Doctor was from home. t He was gone to Dub in and would not be ( ; home for a week. The body would not keep, ! { but rather than let them go, she would give L them half a guinea for it. Toe bargain was . ‘etll> d, and iha bs, with iu heavy contents ( conveyed to a sma l room at the back of tne kitcheo. The boys took their leave in haste, I but waited on the corner to see tha end of the I spree. The door being cantiously closed after them t ' Mrs. Strong, wbs always had lor her perqui I si'.ea the teeth ofber hu»band’s subjects, which she sold to the dentists, approached the bag I with her pincers Martin, qme overcome with drink and the jolting of the journey, hsd ’ fallen asleep. Mrs. S. untied the bag. Mar s tin’s mouth was partly epen ; she thought she s heard breathing, but no—that could not be—it was only her nervousneas With a desperate , Effort she thrust the pincers between bisgrind j, era and gave a tug- Martin leaped up and 1 veiled out. Away ran the horrified Mrs. S., t aud away stumbled the bsgged Martin after. Sue fainted. .Marlin came tu, and getting out ’ us the bag, he soon got out of the house, and rejoined his merry comrades, and they bad a , wnd jollification over that well earned half guinea. Martin swore the Doctor's ouid wo man gave him the teeth ache, but be managed i- ! to get glorious io spiie of his teeth. Doctor Str ng returned from Dublin the » next day, but on hearing the well spread story of tooth drawing, he quickly disappeared, witn t his disconcerted lady, from ths neighbornoud of Martin Carey and the boys of Kilkenny. UISCiSbLIMSOI S 14- TERITHRE AND NEWS. Husbands anti Wives.—their Errors and their Duties. ««But happy they, the happiest of their kind, Whom gentle stars unite, and in one fate Their heart?, their fortunes, and their beings blend I ” Marriage is said to be a lottery. It would *eem so indeed in some cases, the contrasts ire so extraordinary, and the circumstance so novel. But so solemn a compact, so sacred n the eyes of Heaven and tho Law, and so calculated to affect for “better” or for “worse,” ot only th«* temporal but the eternal happi ness of the parties, should not be thought of ghtly, or determined upon rashly. We fear hat in too many marriages, wordly conside rations are permitted to exercise a controlling nßiier.ce. Hands are united, not hearts Pecuniary objects, and not harmony of senti ment constitute the ‘motive power!” Match es are made with reference to “an establish aant.” aud not to a life of peace, tranqui ity »nd happiness The best affections, the high est sympathies are trifled with, and sacrificed f not sold, while the glitter of fashion ar,d he pomp and vaaity of worldly display, con oeal the breaking heart within. Hence the frequent divorces—the unhappy home*, the lonely and debited wives, the dissolute and reckless husbands. On ’he other hand, many rush into matrimony who do not duly consider its responsibi’ities. who take no note of the future ! Controlled by a rudden fan cy, influenced by a wild impulse, they hasten on, and lied “100 lain,” that the* have assum ed a posiiion to which they are inadequate, that die struggies and 'rials tho world are fearful, that mure nerve, and perse verance are necessary than they can com ma nd The excitement, too, the delminn nay have passed away, and they aro surpris ud to find imperfections in the angel of their idolatry. They forget that they themselves ire human, fallible, full of errors and thus they cannot make proper a lowances for others* They tec< me petulant and peevish, harsh and brutal, and the “rosy and sunny home ’ that was pictured in “the day of dr**ams,” is con verted into a scene of strife, and anger of passion and discord. They find themselves disappointed, aoured. The prospect has changed, aud instead of discovering the cause in themselves, instead of pursuing a magnani mous and man’y course, they turn upon the “gentle one,” into whose eirs they “ao lately” poured fond vows and earnest protestations, □d make her the source of all the bitterness and vexation. /Mas! for the victim under each circumstances! How. day after day, must her fairy dream fade, and the withering reality of a long life of sorrow loom before her! How, iu her quiet hours, she must re member her early home, and the lavish love that she eojoyod benoath the paternal roof! At times, too, she may recall a mother’s love —and teel disposed to unburthea her heart, and communicate the secrets of her soul to ihe bsing who watched over her cradle ! And yet, w’hy disturb, why agonize unnecessarily —why communicate a sorrow that will only pain aud wring without the means of afford ing relief? But there is another side to this picture. Theie are gentle ones who forget or neglect thair duties, and who, by coldness and asperity, nuke homo a scene of perpetual discord. The hit Land is welcomed with frowns ! Com pla Qis are ever uppermost. Nothing’ satis fies Toil on, by day or by night, and still the murmur is the same. A peevish, a fretful spirit seems to have taken possession “of the belter half,” and after struggling in vain against such a constantsource of disquiet, the husband abandons his home iu despair, and seeks elsewhere for companionship, or at least for exemption from perpetua : fault finding. How fearful this mistake on the part of young wives—how they trifle wiih affection—how they peril peace of mind! Tho outdoor world is full of care and anxiety. The strug gle for the means of subsistence often taxes all (he energies of body and mind. 'The compe tition in trade, the rivalry in business, the vi cissitudesof chance and change, the perils of misfortune, the treachery of friends ! Alas! these seldom enrer into the ordinary reflections of a thoughtless wife, especially if «he be vain, proud, and devoted to display. Her idols are false pride, inflated vanity, and a desire to ex col ; and if her husband do not minister to every whim of the hour, if he hesitate to com ply with her demands fur fundi—if he venture to remonstrate against unnecessary expendi tures —anger, passion, and invective are by no means unusual. He may at the moment be pressed to the earth by some sudden mone tary exigency may require the exercise of ex traordinary moral courage to maintain his pj siuon and suitain bis character—-may need corisola.ion, encouragment and incentive to exertion, and instead, find reproaches, angry ooks and harsh insinuations at home! How many *7»en i?*en maddened and ruined under these circumstances! How in some tnJden moment of oioitemnnt, have thev abandoned the control of their own fortunes, and yielded to the dark impulses of despair Partners in trade are bound by the law of self in erest, to say nothing of higher and no bler considerations, to assist and sustain each other by every honorable means How much more incumbent, therefore, is such a policy in partners for lile, and between those who have united themselves for belter or for worse, — between man and wife, who have linked them selves, not only on grounds of affection and principle, bui to a certain extent have made their destinies one ! How essential the wis do tn and the duty of mutual forbearance, mu tual assistance! How important that each should strive to contribute to the happiness of the other —to soome the sorrow, and to share the joy—to counsel and encourage in a mo ment of adversity, to restrain and subdue in the hour of prosperi'y ! The bond of mar riage, when entered into wisely, thoughtfully, kind y aud generously, is indued the bond of affection, of concord and of happiness. But ihe obliga ion is mutual, and while every Ims band ol a right mind and a right heart, will endeavor to provide to toe bes f of his ability tor the necessities and the comforts of the being of his choice, the wife should not forge the smile of welcome at nightfall, the look and the manner of love that subdued and won c’he should not so rget the honor, the iniercsis. th happiness and prosperity “of the he.id of ihe household,” and the source of all its com forts I—Philadelphia Agi Iculliirßl ftcUuol. Governor Hunt, in his message to the Legis lature of New York, calls attention to ihe importance of oatnblishi i»z an Agricultural Sch ol and Experimental Farm, lie says : it cannot be doubted that an institution o the character proposed would promote the disseinina ton of agricultural knowledge and elevate the condition of the people. In its formation I would recommend an additional department for instruction in the mechanic arts. I lent’fied in interest, each imparting strength aud vigor to the other, the agricultu ral and mechanical classes combined may be said to constitute the substantial power and greatness of ihe commenwealth. The free spnit of our institutions and the incentives to effort in which this country abounds, are pe cuiiarly favorable to the development of in ventive genius aud rapid advances in the use lul art*. Oar unparalleled progress may be attributed in no sruaif degree to the successful skill of our Ariiznns in originating and per fecting the varied improvements which in crease the productiveness of labor in most branches of human industry. Yet from the nature of their pursuits and the necessity which subjects theoj to a life of toil, too many of our youthful mechanics are deprived o’ those means of intellectual improvement w Inch the State has provided for other profession*. I'he beneficial effects of an Agricultural and Mechanical School will not be limited to the individual who may participate directly in its privileges. The students grad lating Irom such an institution, elevated iu character by moral and intellectual training, and endued with that knowledge of the natural laws and practical science which unites manual labor with the hignest exercise of tha reasoning faculties, wilt become teachers in their turn, imparting t> those around them the light ol (heir pursuits of industry by &n honorable ex ample of useful cess in their varied occupa tions. Tne elevation of the laboring classes is an object worthy of the highest ambition ol the statesman and the patriot. Under our re publican system of Government the political power of the Bta‘e must always reside among the men of industry and toil, whose virtuous energy is their best patrimony. The intelli gence which qualifies them for the duties of self government, affords the only sure guaran tee tor the perpetuity of our free insulations. Medical Use of Salt.—ln many cases of disordered stomach, a leaspoonful of salt is a certain cure, In the vto ent internal pain termed cholic a leaspoonful of salt, dissolved in a pint us cold water, taken as soon as pos«i --b a, with a abort nap immediately after, is one of the must effectual, and speedy remedies known. The same will relieve a person who seems almost dead frum receiving a heavy fall. In an apoplectic fit, no time should be lost in Douring down salt water, if sufficient sensi eility reina-ns to aliaw of swallowing; if rot the t ead must be sponged w ith cola water until the sense returns, when the salt will complete ly restore the patient from the lethargy. In case of severe bleeding at the lungs, and when other remedies failed. Dr. Rush found ihattwo teaspoonluils of salt completely stay ed the blood Silvered Gla-s Wark —The Boston Transcript states that Messrs. Snmner, of that cry, have recently received from London a new style of silvered glass ware, which promises to take precedence of the Bohe mian aud other fancy glasses. Tne silvering is indestructible, being coated over with glass, and is of a brilliancy, that can never □e tarnished or impaired. Dishes, vases and pitchers of this ware make a more brilliant display than the same article of pure silver, however highly polished. The advantage, in the greater facility of ke*p mg the iorrner clean, must be obvious. Tne metallic radiance of the new ware is beyond ail that art has yet attained. The U. 8. Mail steamer Franklin, sailed from New Yerk.ou Baiurda* for sonthamp tan and Havre, wna fifty seven passenger*. Self-Education-**Value of Books* Show us a young man who commences early in life to road valuable books, and s'ore his mind with the thoughts of the choice spirits of the world in all limo, and we will point yon to wisdom, honor, and happiness aa his goal. Ho is sure of one or all ot these conditions The vain, dressy, flippant beau of seventeen. w ho regards a knowledge of the dialect of the Opera and Theatre, the race course and epo. t mg-club, as essential to the gentleman ; who looks upon science and solid reading as dull, dry, and useless—of auch, you may prophecy an empty pocket, an empty head, a hollow heart, a disreputable life, and a disgraceful memory. The reeder of history and of science is a denizen of ail nations, a contemporary nf all ages, and a minister at the altar of truth These solid virtues he may embellish with ihe wreath of poesy and fine art, and stand up a beautiful embodiment of all that is noble and refined in the domain of thought. Knowledge knows no aristocracy, no royal blood, no imperal road to her riches and honors. The most ex al ed minds, through their recorded thoughts, books, will bend over thecobb'er’e bench, and comiuunicatu with and enlighten his spirit, nor frown upon his poverty or despi-e his compa ny Tho following shows, iu an attractive manner* tho value of tho good society o! books. “The Cambridgb Leather Dresser —For mnnv years, aud lor many times in a year, I have ( ufl.-ed by the shop of a chi gent, industrious mechanic whom 1 have of en seen busy at his trade, with bi urrns bare, buny at work. His industry and stvadi ne.-s Have been successful, and be has gained a com potency. But be still remains wisely devoted to hie trade liming the day you may sec him at his woik or chatting with Lia neighbors. At night he h e down in his little parlor, by his quiet fireside, and enjoys ihe com;any of his riends. And he has the most .extraordinary coliectiun Q friends that any man in New England can t?oast of. William H. Prescott goes out from Boston, and talks with him about Ferdinand aud Labella. Washington Irving comes from New York, and tells him about the wars ot Grenada, and the adventurous voyage of Colum bus, or the legend of the Sleepy Hollow, cr the lale of the Broken Heart. George Bancroft sits down with him, and points out on ihe map of the colonic* and settlements of America, their circumstances and fates, and gives the early history of liberty. Jared Sparks comes down from Gainbridge, and reads to him the letters of Washington, and makes his heart glow with (he heroic deeds of that goJltke man for the cause of his country. Or Alston, the great painter, steps in aad tells him a story —and nobody lefts a story so well —or repeats to him lines of poet ry. Bryant comes, with his sweet wood notes, which he learned among the green bills of Berkshire. And Richard H. Dana, father and son, come, the one to repeat grave, heart stirring poetry, the other to speak of uis two years before the mast. Or, if this mechanic is in aspecuiative mood, Professor Hitchcock comes to talk to him of all the changes that have befallen the soil of Massachusetts since the flood or before— or Professor E*py tries to predict a storm. Nor is his acquaintance to his own country. In his grave hours, he sends for Sir John Herschel from across the <_cean, and he comas and discourses elo quently upon ttie wonders of the vast creation, of all the worlds that are poured upon our sight by the glories of a starry night. Nor is it across the stormy ocean of the blue wave alone that his friends come to visit him—but across the darker and wider ocean of time, come the wise and the good, the eloquent and tho witty, aud sit down by his table, and dis course with him as long as he wishes to listen That eloquent blind old man of Scio, with beard descending to his girdle, still blind, but still eloquent, sits down with him—and, as he sang almost three thoua r.d years ago among the Grecian Lies, sings (he war of Troy, or ihe wanderings of the sage Ulysses. The poet of the human heart comes from the banks of the Avon, and the poet of Paradise from his small garden-house in Westminster—Burns irom his cottage on the Ayr, and Scott from his dwel ling by the Tweed; and, at any time these three years past, may have been seen by his fireside, a man who ought to have been a hero with schoolboys, for no one ever felt so (or them —a man whom so many of your Boston neighbors lately strove in vain to see—Charles Dickens. In the midst of such friends, our friend the leather dresser lives a happy and coatentcd life —not less respected, and far more happy, than if an uneasy ambition had made him a Representative in Congress, or a Governor of a State—and the more respected and happy, that he disdains not to labor in an honorable calling. My friends, thia is no fancy sketch. Many who hear me know i s well as I do. Thomas Dowse, ol Cambridgeport, and many have seen his choice and beautiful library. But I suppose there is no one hero who knows a neighbor of his, who had, in his early yearn, the same advantages, but he did not im prove them—who never g&ined this love of reading, aud who now, in consequence, instead of living thi» happy and desirable lite, wastes his evenings in low c xnpany, or taverns, or dozss them away by his own firo Which of these lives will you live 3 They are both beiore you.”— George B. Emerson, at Rome.— Release of political Prisoners.— The Paris correspondent of the New York Herald, writing under dato of the Gth ult., says : In the Roman dungeons of D’Anzo and Saint Angelo, are confined thirteen prisoners whose inexpiable crime consists in having par ticipated in the lato revolutionary struggle which had for ’U object to secure to the inhab itants of the PontifTa dominions the inestima ble rights of representation, together with other constituUoQal reforms. They are not of the class of fanatics or factious dema gogues who have defiled our nobio cause not lessin Italy than in Franca, but men of high character and lofty prii ciples, who in the good fight for the benefit of their children and their children’s children—of those who are to Cirne alter them—hazarded all, and lost all. Among them are five counts and ono marquis, of ancient blood, whose lin eal descent goes back, without break or inter ruption, to the middle ages. They have been declared forever incapable of holding proper ty, of whatsoever description. For seven long months they have languished in loathsome dungeons. There they he, herd mg with the bandi 8, and felons, and brigands; and day after day the prospect of tho libera tion, so far from brighter, grows only darker and more hopeless. There thev lie, those no ble, noble gentlemen, weary of life, and sick of this most base world, with no spot or staif; or blemish on their reputation save ihe sin of having struck (o’* liberty. The governinen* will not release them, for the dissemination of republican sentimeots is fatal toils very eris tence. Neither can it exile inem, for no coun try in Europe will harbor such propagandise. Now what has been done lor them ? Why. Mr. Chbs, your Minis er, has proposed to the Papal authorities to send them io California, huns It engaging to pay ihree thousand dollars for their expenses in a French ship, which will leave Bordeaux fur that desiina ion in the month of February. The cardinals have ac copied this proposd, agreeing to liberate these gentlemen nine days print tothedepa tore of the vessel in question, which affords them just sufficient time to reach that seaport. Honor to your Minister aud to the glorious land from which he comes. His conduct has elicited deep admiration ; and well it may. The first and last fatal Duel by Illi- NniANs —In the year 162 U a duel was fotuht in Belleville, St Ciair county, between Al phonso Stewart and William Bennett. Toe seconds had made it up to be a sb am duel; Stewart, one of the parties, was supposed to be in the secret ; but Bennett, his adversan, believed it to be a reality. It is supposed that Bennett somewhat suspected a trick, and after receiving his gun from his second, rolled a ball into it. At the word fire. Stewart fell morla ly wounded. Bennett was indicted, tried aud convicted for murder. A great effort was mnde to procure him a pardon ; but Gov. Bond would yield to no entreaties, and Bennett *uffeied (he extreme penalty of the law by hanging, iu the presence of a great multitude of people. Tins was the firstand the last duel which has ever been fought in the state by any ot i s citizens. The hanging of Bennett made duel ling discreditable and unpopular ; and laid the foundation ol that abhorrence of ihe practice which has been felt and expressed by the peo ple of Illinois. T’he present Judge Lockwood was then At torney General of the state, an 1 prosecuted in inis case ; to his talents and success as a pros ecutor, the people are indebted for this early precedent and example, which did raore than is generally supposed to prevent the practice of duelling from being introduced into his state.— Chicago Com Adv. Varieties.—To injure a man's sight there is nothing worse than su iden wealth. Let a wood sawyer draw a ten th usand dollar prize, and in less than a month he will not be able to recognise even the man that ‘-used to go security for him ” Franklin said: “When I see a honee fur nished with books and newspapers, I find in telligent children ; but if there are no papers, the children are ignorant, if not profligate ” Formerly, there was a maxim that a young woman should never be married till she had spun herself a full set of linen. Hence, all unmarried women have been called spinsters ; so appellation they still retain in certain deeds and la v proceedings, though many of them are not entitled to it. A lady of rank, complaining that her hus band was dead to fashionable amusements, be replied, ‘Butthen, my dear, you make mealive to the expense.’ , He whoknows the world, will not be too bashful, and he who knows himself will never , be impudent. If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow som**. Gold is an idol, worshipped in all climates 1 without a single temple, and by all classes ‘ without a single hypocrite. A landlady in Philadelphia, it is said, makes , her pies so light that her lodgers can see ;o go i to bed without a candle, after eating a mode _ rate piece. It is reckoned that each individual averages three hoars’conversation daitv, at the rale of i a hundred words a minute, or twenty pages oi j an octavo volume an hour. At this rate. w»- i talk a volume of four hundred octavo pages i in a week, and fifty-two volumes a year. j An Old Horsx —George Yoang, of Grand j Rapids, states in the "M chiean Farm*r” thai i he owns a horse which is forty-five years old » He says be bought the animal in 13*25, and s that his age was then stated to be fifteen years ; I mat he drove him in a boggy and rode him it» - Albany for six year?, and that for (be last nine teenyears he has been one of a farm team ; : hat he has still the app-arar.ee of a colt, that in j 1348 te drove bun 240 miles in four days About nine’een years ago his teeth became to uneven that he could not grind hay well, and hi* j >wner had them filed down, since which “he has been able lo feed with the youngest hor see.” VOL.LXV—NEW SERIES VOL.XV--NO 8. From the Journal Sf Messenger. i The Vineville Tragedy. The citizens of Vineville were aroused about midnight of Friday last, by the alarm of fire, in the building occupied by Mrs. Swinlen, nearly opposite the residence of Mr. Winship. The wellrope was found to be cut, the bucket missing, and the duors of the house heavily barred. Suspicions were soon excited, that Mrs. Swinden and her four children had per ished in th** flames. After the building had fallen in and the fire had somewhat subsided their remains were discovered. From the testimony given before tje inquest, and from other facts since elicited, there can be no doubi that Mrs Swinden, in a fit of mental derange ment. murdered her four children by cutting their throats with a razor, then firtd the house, and either cut her own throat or voluntarily perished in the flames! Her oldest child was a smart active, intelligent boy, about 14 years old His remains were found near the door, whither he had, perhaps, fled in his efforts to escape from the hands of the murderess. mains of tho other children were found near die fire place, where perhaps, they had been laid upon a matrass and covered with books and other combustible material*. On the following morning a Coroner’s Inquest was I held on the bodies The In lowing were the Jurors Stoorn.— James Van Valkeuburg Foreman. VV. S. Williford, R. A. Benson, Amos Benton, O A. J. R Porter, Edward Peal, H. B Brown, Thomas Dougherty, M. VI. Mason, Anderson Comer, T. ShiDholser, James Harris Evidence.— James Harris, Sworn—This morning, at 1 o’clock, I visited the place of fire, having hear 1 the alarm. When I arrived the house was in fl lines. 1 took a piece of wood and forced the door, then went lo the partition door and partly opened it. The flames pre vented my entering. Tne doors wero all strongly barred when I arrived. Could no» distinguish any bodies for the flame. Heard no sounds of voices in the house. Mrs. Swin fen and four children lived in tho house. I believe they were in it when I arrived. Have frequently heard Mrs. Swindon say, that shp wished she was dead, she would be better off. Have also heard her say she would be ihank lul if the Almighty would take her away—mo ney was of little use to us here. Margaret Gamble, Sworn—Was at the house of Mrs. Swinden last Munday. Had been there eight days I nursed her. Have heard her say that sbe and her children were too good for this world—that it would be better for one soul lo be destroyed than for her to raise her four children and have tnetn lost. Have also heard her aay, that she believed the Doctors had got her husband’s body, and she would take caro that they should not get hers. Have no: heard her complain of wast —knew of her having some money and the necessary comforts of life. After 1 left her sie sent her bny to tell me I need not come back, that she was not sick —that she only acted so to try the people. Drs. Green and Thompson at tended her. Rev. Mr. Shanklin, Sworn—l have been in the habit of visi ing Mrs. Swinden and family. Saw her last, on Tuesday. Have known her two years Always considered her mind, more or less, affected. Heard her say, a week or so since, that it would be better for her and her children if they were all burned up. Have frequently heard her make remarks, wishing that they were all dead. On Tuesday evening she asked me to forgive her, and to ask the people all to forgive hor, which I took to be evidence of mental derangement as I was not aware that she had done any thing to require their forgiveness. Have heard her say that she had ail aho required, and that the ladies bad been very kind to her. Saw iu the fire-place of the house, after the fire, a razor, which, from its position, could not have fallen from the mantle piece to where I saw it. Saw her mistake Airs. Scattergood’s child for her own, on Tuesday. Thomas Dougherty, Sworn—Mrs. Swinden was taken sick a few evenings ago. She sent for me. I visited her. She was in bed, and complained of a burning about tho heart. I asked her if she would like to have a Doctor. At first, she did not want any. I said I would get any one she wanted. She said a Doctor had given her husband a dose, which had ta ken him out of this world, and I might get the same one tu give her & dose, for she did not want to live here any longer. She has made the same expression to me several times since. Jerdict—“We, the Jury in the above case, find the following verdict: That the remains found are those of xMrs. Swinden and her four children. That the said Mrs. Swinden was deranged. That she destroyed her childeren with a razor, and afterward set fire to the house.” (True copy.) J W. Benson, Clerk. A Powerful Microscope.—H ilasert, Op tical and Astronomical instrument maker in Cin cinnati, (Ohio ) has just completed a coin poun 1 microscope which he designs exhibit ing, in person, at the World’s Fair. The manufacturer claims that its magnifying pow er surpasses that of any other instrument ever made in this or any other country. Its highest capacity being to magnify any object to six thousand diameters, which makes a superficial surface of thirty-six millions We examined some minute particles ot dust, or secondary scales, from the wing of a butterfly. These have been aeon with microscopes—the lines running parallel with the sides of the dust par iicles, both longitudinally, downwards, and transversely. Thia isall that has heretofore been observed. This microscope, however, *how that on these longitudinal lines of the dust of the biiferfly, aud between them, there ar» arranged a nambei of little scales, similar to the scales of a fish. Between each pair ol lines are seen from five to six rows of these hitle sea es. For instance, a dua’ particle frum the bick of tho body of a sphinx, measuring the one-fifth of an inch in length, and oue tw<> hundredths in breath, discovers one hundred aud four longitudinal lines. The number ol scales between each pair ot lines in w dth, is six—making the number of scales six hundred and twenty four over the whole width, and the number of sc ties longitu finally aud down wards, iwenty-two hundred; which make* the entire number of wcalesuu the dust parti cle equal to fourteen thousand millions to the ►qu ire meh. On another very minu’o particle from the wing of a tenia, measuring only one five hun dredths (•fan inch :n leng h, ana one thousandth of an inch in breadth, (lie number of scales art* found tu be eightj-four thousand, which wnl reach the numbar of forty-two thoua nd mil lions to one square inch. A very interesting examination was alsn inado of a minute particle of human blood which exhibits the (act that the blood is com posed of minute globules, which roll through the veins like shot or quick silver. An exami nation of a drop of stagnant water disclosed numberless animalcules, which dart aboui with wonderful rapidity. An examination ol the common flua shows a striking resemblance to (he elephant in its conformation. Many other observations of an equally interesti&g character were made, which we have not the space to record. Geatkmen interested in these matters are invited to call on Mr. Husert and test the merits of this poweriul instrnm nt. It is to be regretted that this gentleman, who has de voted the best years ol his life in bringing this microscope to perfection, has not received the patronage to which he is justly entitled. On his return from Europe we hope that hia repu tation may be so far increased that our homa institutions will favor him instead of the for eign manufacture, inasmuch as his instrnments surpass hem in all sf the essentia aof intrinsic merit.- Cincinnati Gazette. Porters Self-Loading udn. —Mr. Por ter, resident at or near Memphis, has construe ed a most novel and curious fire-arm, called the “self-loading gun in which the simple opera ion of “cocking” to shoot, by the assis tance of valves, or equivalents separates ftom the magazine attached lo the gun the mate rials for each load—loads the gun. It is ca pable of being discharged forty times in s minute, and e' oots a ball with tremendous force, and with usual exactness. The editor ol ihe Hern; his Enquirer, aftercare(ui examina tion and repealed experiments, is sa'iafied that nothing which can bear comparison with it in efficiency has been discovered, and that no - revolver” of any kind approaches it in des tructiveness, or in the adaptation of the means of safety against accident* in their use. Another Vi&gima Invention.—Mr. Fred erick A. Whitescarver, o»‘ the county of Bed ord, has invented an instrument which prom •sea to be of great value »o Engineers and Surveyors 1; is called “a self calculating • ransit,” and is intended to measure area am dis’ance without the usual measurement by chain ; and without requiring (he needle, as n the ordinary compass, except perhaps lor th« purpese of ob'aiuing the point of departure inrtrument seems highly recommended bj scientific and pracical men. and is well wont he examination of professional Engineers, or ui persons interested in extensive or accurate surveys.— B htg. ______ A Beneficent Act.—The Benate oi tht United States yesterday passed a bill whici will stand an enduring monument of wiseanc philanthropic legislation. We refer to th» uiil appropriating ten millions of acres of th* public lands (equal to twelve millions fivt nuudred thousand d&ilars) to be apportioned among the several Btaies in an equitible ratio lor the endowment of Hospitals for the Indi ate the humane and estimable lady (MisaDix) u whose unwearied exertions in rousing publicsympathy and influence in aid of het oer»evoleDischeme, is the country mainly in iebted for the success which has thus far at tended mis praiseworthy measure in the Na tonal Legislature. May the sanction of ths other Hou e of Congress consummate the act and render her happiness complete — National Intelligencer. Ohio Backing Law.—Tne Senate of Ohio have had under consideration for some time a General Free Banking Bill. The basics upon A'hich the system is formed is the pledge ol one dollar of State stocks for every dollar o I □ills for circulation tha backs may issue. Tob is in addition to the capital stock and mean* of the tanks forth® redemption of their no.es Speaking of this measure th® Ohio 3ta.t Journal says— The of the passage of ihe free bankin oi.i will oe to draw <»*<* Ufl ‘° “»• ®» UwM “ our >tock, now scattered abroad over the Union and over Europe. The anneal payment of nur interest, amounting to over one million t of dollars, will then be to our own citizens, or to those within our own country, thus saving i, at homo, a large amount that otherwiao would . go abroad in specie or its equivalent. POLITICAL. I ■ - ‘--r--- " II— ! Gov. Quitman’s Proclamation. , Amobo the most remarkable productions of i the day, we class the subjoined Address of Gov. Qoitua.'i, to the people of Missis ippi, f resigning his office for the purpose of repair i ing to New Orleans, to s and his trial for an alleged violation of the neutrality laws ofthe Union. The Governor seems to be laboring under a sort of hallucination, and most ridiou lonely imagines that he is the Slate, and that his arrest by the United States Marshal is an ndignily to the sovereign State of Mississippi, i and a grievance to the good people thereof. I Indeed, that whatever-affects him individually, in his privatecapaciiy as a citizen, was, in as much as he was Governor of the State, a de gradation of the Slate’s Sovereignty. As a citizen, he appears to have entertained no doubt that his du y in the premises was to yield obedience to the laws, but being Gov ernor, ergo the Slate, he for a time at least fan cied that his character of citizen was entirely extinguished. Hence he seems to have cen temp'ated resistance to the laws by the organ ized force of the State. But the contempla tion of "violent contest” as a sequence of such a policy, restored him to a lucid interval, especially ar the power of the General Gov ernment in its present bands might bo tested, and ho wisely concluded to obey the Sammons. Not, however, without a puerile appeal to ex cue a sections' prejudice, by a positive tnie siatement of a fact, in asserting that the power of the General Government "bad been with held from her citizens seeking to reclaim a fu gitive slave from Massachusetts.” No man knew better than Governor Quit si AM how destitute of truth was this assertion, for no man knew better than he, that the aid of the Government had never been invoked in legal form. While, therefore, the puerile whining of his Excellency at the extreme ro lentlesness of the Executioners of the law, in forcings ‘‘Southern Governor” to yield obe dience, might be tolerated, there can be no allowance for such a gross misrepresentation of a well known fact, in what purports to boa grave Official Communication. The extraordinary position heretofore as sumed by the Governor and his friends, that because he was Governor, therefore the Courts should await his pleasure after the ex piration of his term of office, the disregard es whieh by the authorities, he intimates, was not only a breach of courtesy to the Governor and the State, but a monstrous indignity to her sovereignty, and a grievance to her people, is so absurd and ridiculous as to be beneath ridi cn>e. Verily, the fact of his being Governor, must have completely turned bis head, and ho imagines that he is not only the State, but a sort of Potentate, who is superior to the law* But we are detaining the reader from the Proclamation—here it is: Ta the People of Mississippi.— ln Novem ber, 1349,1 was elected by your free suffrages, Governor of this State.' My term of Office commenced with my inauguration on the lllih of January, 1350. By the provisions of the Consiiiuuon, it will expire on the 10th Janua ry, 1852. In the active discha-ge of its duties, I am to-day arrested by the United States Marshal of the Southern District of Mississip pi, by virtue of process, originating out of charges exhibited against me in the District Court of the United States for the Eastern District of Louisiana, for an alleged violation of the neutrality law of 1818, by beginning, setting on foot and furnishing tn» means for a military expedition against the Island of Cub*. Under these charges, the Marshal is directed to arrest me, and remove my person to the city of New Orleans, there to be tried for these alleged offences. Unconscious es having, in any respect, vio lated the laws of the country; ready at all limes to meet any charge that might be exhib ited against me, 1 have only been anxious, in this extraordinary, emergency, to follow the path of duty. As" a citizen, it was plain and clear, I must yield to the law, however op pressive or unjust in my case; but as Chief - Magistrate of a sovereign State, 1 had alee in charge her dignity, her honor, and her sovereignly, which 1 could not permit to be violated in my person. Resis tance by the organized force of the 8 ate, wliilo the Federal Administration is in the hands of men who appear io seek soma occasion to test the strength of that Government, would result in violent contests, much to be dreaded in the present critical condition of the coun try. mi . i cv _• t • • The whole Sooth, patient aa she ia under encroachment, might leek with some jealousy upon the employment of military force to re more a Southern Governor from the jurisdic tion of hi* Slate, when it had been withhold from hercmzens seeking to reclaim a fugitive slave in Massachusetts. On ttie other hand, the arrest and forcible re moval from the State, of her Chief Executive Magistrate, lor an indefinite period of time, would not only be a degradation of he' sove reignty, but must occasion incalculable injury and Uira-ter to the interests of the State, by the entire suspension of the Executive func tions of her government. The Constitution has not couteispl ted such an event as the forcible atiducuuu of the Governor. It has not provided lor the performance of his duties ny another officer, except in the case of a M inncy Such vacancy cannot happen while tnrre is a Governor, though he be a prisoner to a foreign power. Although he may be ab sent, and incapable of performing his duties, he is still Governor, and no o.her person can execute his office. It follows, therefore, that in such case, the State would practically suffer some of the evils of anarcny. The pardoning power wonld bo lost. Officers could not be commissioned or ijualilied; ibe Great Seal of the State could uot be used: vacancies in office could net be used; vacancies in office coaid not be filled; fugitives frornjieuce could not be realaiiued or surrendered; the public works, the opera tions of ho Penitentiary, and all repairs of public building must step for want of legal re quisitions to defray the expenses lhereof. The -ale of State lauds, and tne location of recent grants must be suspended. The Convention of the people, called at the last session of tho Legislature, conld net assemble for want of writs of e'eetion. In case of death or resignation of the admiiistrative othcers of the State Government, these un poriant officers, including the treasury, weald ue left without the superintendence or care of any authorised person. In fine, the whole Government of the State would be in confu sion and great inconvenience, and perhaps ir reparable injury flow from such a state of hmgs. For all these evils there is but one remedy. That remedy ia my resignation. 1 therefore, fellow-citizsris, now resign the high trust confided to my hands, with no feel ing of personal regret, except that I eould net serve you better ; with no feeling es shame, for I am innocent of 'he causes which have induced the necessity of this step. On the contrary, although personally I fear no inves .igauou and shun no scrutiny, I have spared nn efforts con-iateut witfi self-respect to avert uh result. Ido soon as 1 learned that attempts would be made, under an act of Congress of he Inst century, to remove me from this State, 1 formally offered to the proper anthori lea of the United dtates, any pledge or secu rity to appear in New Orleans, and meet the charges against me, so soou as my term el tlice should expire: and I remonstrated against lh» indignity thus about to bo ofls-ed, not to myself, but to the State, in dragging away from his duties, her Chief Magistrate. My proposition was not accepted, and nay remonstrance not heeded. li is not for me to complain. You are "he aggrieved party. My ceurso in this matter .users the approval of some of tne most patri otic citizens near me. 1 sincerely hope, as it was dictated alone by my sense of duty to tho State, ii may meet ibe approbation of my fol low-ciuzeris. In thus parting from my generous constitu ent*, it woold be proper ,o give them an ac count of rny stewardship during the short bat interesting period that 1 nave ac ed as their public servant, but the official connection bo iween us has been so summarily aad unex pectedly severed, that 1 must defer the grateful ask to a future day. 1 have bat to add that during my short bat exciting period of service, i have in all things uriven to be laidtful and true to the righto, the interests, and the noner of tho State. For this 1 have been abnsed and calumniated by the enemies of the South. Treachery and faith essuess would have secured favor and praise rom the same sources. Fello w-citizens, I now take my leave of you with gratitude lor the generous support yen lave extended to me, and with cheering oonfl fence that your honor and your interests may re safely confided io the hands of the faithful ind able sou of Mississippi, who. as President of the Senate, succeeds to my place Fzecafiw C/uimbtr, Jackten, Monday Evening, February 3,100 - Jonv A. Qutruav, InrouTssr Decision —ln a ease brought nefure the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania, rom Delaware county, it was decided last vcek, .hat io a public sale, where a person is niployed to “run up the property, and make ue purchaser pay more than if none but ite bidders bid fur it, the sale is Iraodalent and .old, ko far that the purchaser is not obliged o take the property airuek vff to him.—Psuw spfMaMß.