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THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL
IS rVBbISUBU
EVERY THURSDAY MORNING
Bt william h. chambers,
EDITOR VXD rKOTBTETOII.
Office on Randolph street.
Miscellaneous.
[For the Southern Sentinel ]
EGERIANA.
SO. 111.
The presence of fire is known, even when
concealed, by its genial heat ; and water, by
its refreshing coolness. The iron furnace
through which no flame can penetrate, diffu
ses around it a more radiating warmth than
the blazing hearth; and even in the darkness
of night, we know when the silent dews
are refreshing the herbage and flowers.
Knowledge, when incorporated into the
mind, is felt, and gives a dignity to the indi
vidual which nothing else can impart. The
simplest remark, uttered with grace and mod
esty, may give evidence of the presence of
this informing power ; and its presence once
acknowledged, frivolity, levity and evil re
port will fly from before it, like unholy shades
from the day-star’s beam.
If the unbounded influence ascribed to
‘Woman be triffe, if her peculiar sphere be the
social circle and the fireside of home, is it
not through her conversation that influence
is most exerted? and is it not the medium
through which her soul must shine forth i
it this be admitted, how vast must be the i;n
portance of that system which would lead to
the full cultivation of the faculty which dis
tinguishes us from the brutes and assimilates
us to angels! What words could speak the
■Value of that Institution, formed on principles
calculated to devclope the full power of the
heart and mind ?—which not only gave the
richest materials f r thought, hut taught the
art of throwing over those thoughts the rich
drapery of imagination—of arranging the folds
in every graceful form, whether falling In the
gloom of ancient magnificence, Or wreathed
in the light festoons of modern taste. Con
versation, thus cultivated, would no longer
degenerate into idle words, unmeaning badi
nage, levity or slander. It would assume its
original dignity; the pure communication ol :
glowing hearts with kindred hearts, of lofty
minds with kindred minds; the interchange of
elevated thoughts and glorified aspirations.
The social circle, formed of beings thus ed
ii rated, would present a scone that [Hirer in
telligences might witness with delight. There,
the music of the human voice, tuned to har
mony and hive, uttering only sentiments of
beauty and purity, clothed in words of grace,
would fulfil the purposes of Him who formed
the eternal harmony of the spheres.
There is a solemn text in Scripture which j
says, “for every idle word that is spoken, an j
account shall he given at the day of judg- |
ment.” This is not addressed alone to the
bold blasphemer, who takes the name of God
in vain, nor the thoughtless scoffer at the mys
teries of religion. It refers to those, also, who
neglect as well as abuse one of the noblest
gifts of the Creator, and convert an instru
ment of glory into shame. Let the moralist i
3 J |
reflect a moment on the general use made by
mankind of the gift of speech, and ask himself
if something ought not to be done, to redeem
it from degeneracy.
In this age of improvement, when the vo
lent mind flies on the wings of invention into
heretofore untravelled regions—when woman,
awakened to the best purposes of her being,
walks side by side with man in the paths of
knowledge, with a listening ear and a kind- j
fling smile—may she not he taught, with him, j
the clear and informing tongue ?
The objector may say, that conversation
••can never be taught—that studied communica
ftions of thought would he cold, and the glow
■of feeling chilled. As well may it be said
i that th-r strains which lift the soul to Heaven
pare cnSki, because the musician may have em
ployed wears in the inflexions of Ids voice, or
the modulations of the keys. Again—it may
Itjcworged that light, once received into the
imiU,will shine and spread its illumination
as as the flame of the lamp through
tits translucent envelope. But the mind must!
the made clear and pellucid, before the illttmi
■nation is perceived. It is not enough that
(materials of knowledge be supplied. The
■marble dug from the quarry does not shape
itself into the stately structure or the breath
ing statue, —it must be hewn and polished by
the hand of toil and skill, and arranged into
those torms which rise mid the ruins of time,
as beacons of a past world.
I here is an eloquence that sweeps in pow
er over the listening throng, carrying the feel
sings irresistibly on, as the strong gale the
fleaves of the autumn forest. This is the elo
quence of oratory, and is owned only bv
those master spirits that rule the wills and
.destinies of others. There is another, persua
sive yet powerful—stealing from heart to
heart, from mind to mind, leaving greenness
and freshness wherever it breathes, like the
early breeze of spring—and this is the elo
,quence of conversation; an eloquence which
,mtv>’ be felt, far as the socialities of life ex
tend—*in the halls of wealth, at the festive
board, round the fireside of home, and the
stranger’s hearth.
Let the instructors of youth endeavor to
teach this divine art; let it be made a subject
of emulation and ambition—brought before
the mind as a duty, study, and a source of
nightly reflection; then, and not till then,
will language, corrected, purified and refined,
become the true vehicle of thought and the
medium of feeling. Let it be made, as it was
intended to be, a source of the highest, the
purest, the most ennobling pleasures, and we
may look for a moral renovation of the
Y'Orld.
VOL. 11.
The epicure will leave his banquet for a richer
feast—and the bacchanalian his goblet, for a
: more animating draught. Man, accustomed to
find no zest in the usual intercourse with his
! fellow man, has sought artificial and unholy
! means of excitement; but the Amreetae cup
i of immortality, described in Scandinavian
mythology, could hardly possess a more di
vine flavor than the sparkling flow of soul
: mingling with soul, in intercourse thus chas
j tened, purified and exalted. Let man learn
to appreciate the gift of speech, and cultivate
; it as lie ought, and he will indeed be a “little
lower than the angels, and crowned with glo
i ry and honor.”
“Speech is the golden harvest that follow
! eth the flowering of thought; yet oftentimes
runneth it to husk and the grains be withered
! and scanty : speech is reason’s brother, and
| a kingly prerogative of man, that likeneth
j him to his Maker, who spake and it was done.
’ Spirit may mingle with spirit, but sense re
! quireth a symbol; ami speech is the body of
| a thought, without which it were not seen.
When thou walkest, musing with thyself, in
| the green aisles of the forest, utter thy think
ings aloud, that they take shape and being;
! tor he that pondereth in silence crowdeth the
; storehouse of his mind, and though he have
: heaped great riches, yet is he hindered in the
using. A man that speaketh too little and
thinketh too deeply, corrodeth his own heart
strings and keepeth back good from liis fel
lows: a man that speaketh too much and
rnuseth but little and lightly, wasteth his
mind in words, and is counted a fool among
men: but thou, when ihon hast thought,
weave charily the web of meditation, ami
clothe the ideal spirit in the suitable gar
ments of speech.”
ADDRESS ON EDUCATION.
BV F.F.V. Titos. F. SCOTT.
The time was, when the stores of learn
uitig were carefully locked up, and the key
was religiously confided to a favored few.
Her treasures were deemed far too precious
to he exposed to the popular gaze, and quite
too scanty to he shared with the multitude.
But that day has passed ; and we have fallen
upon a more auspicious period. Now, the
Temple of Science is opened to the world,
ami those who minister at her altars have
decreed that her doors shall never more bo
closed. The hieroglyphics in which her teach
ings were once recorded have been deeipher
ed, ami her language has been made vernac
ular to almost every nation—so legible that i
the blind may read it, so simple that the
dumb may utter it.
And this revolution lias revealed the fact,
so unlike the stupid imaginings of a former j
dav, that familiarity with these beauteous !
treasures has hut deepened the reverence of
mankind, and that their perpetual diffusion
has but multiplied the store a thousand fold.
Each step in this progress has furnished anew
stand point from which a wider horizon and
clearer sky have met the gaze of the beholder,
and rewarded his toil with new discovery of
truth and beauty. The moral of the myste
rious Banyan is here disclosed—every branch
of this tree of knowledge descends and
strikes fresh root that it may rear other
trunks; but unlike the Banyan, every new
stalk is of an improved variety.
This auspicious change we owe, under
God, to the progress of general education.
True, its foundations were laid in the patient
research and the severe analysis of a few great
minds. But suppose the fruits of this mental
toil had not been recorded and published ; or
that these records had not been made more
widely accessible by the schoolmaster; then
these treasures had still been locked up, and
concealed from all, saving the initiated few.
But happily, with respect to uncounted mil
lions, these are suppositions only; and the
masters and misses of the common school are
now familiar with stores of learning unknown
to Newton, and Leibnitz, and Galileo, after
they were the ornaments of the universities.
So rapid has been the diffusion of knowledge
every where, just in proportion as popular
education has been extended, carrying in its
train and continually multiplying all the bless
ings of civilized life.
This fact furnishes an appropriate starting
point for my present remarks. In order to
elevate man to his proper place in the scale
of being, and to fit him for his high destiny,
he must he educated. It is in the constitu
tion of his mind, in the powers of a rational
soul, that man differs from the lower orders
of animals. In common with them he has
his natural instincts, his animal appetites,
which provide spontaneously for the preser
vation of life, and the perpetuation of the
race. In common with them, too, this merely
animal nature may be taught to go through
a series of mechanical motions, with greater
or less constancy and accuracy. And while
man is lett to the simple instincts of his na
ture, or is advanced no further than this mere
; ly mechanical training, it would be difficult
indeed to define the difference between him
and the brute. Perhaps we could say no
more than this, that the one is made with
hands to load the cart and to hold the plow,
while the other is endowed with form and
: strength to draw them.
But “it is the mind that makes the man.”
That mind is endowed by the wise Creator
with powers of perception, of comprehension,
of reason, of invention, of moral emotion;
■ aud all these are capable of progressive im
; prove ment to a degree never yet defined.—
Nfliv, the svd of these
£>outl)crn Sentinel.
powers, and their application to the purposes
of rational existence, constitute man’s appro
priate sphere in the scale of being, and their
harmony and perfection constitute his high
1 destiny. And for the attainment of these ends,
education is necessary. For these man must
be trained. In all this development, there is
an infancy, a childhood, and a maturity.—
This is so abundantly demonstrated by the
history and present condition of our race,
and is so familiar to every intelligent man,
that I need say nothing in its confirmation.
But it may be worth the while to observe
how amply the beneficent Creator has furnish
ed the means of that improvement—in wli.at
; rich and endless variety He lias scattered them
throughout his unmeasured universe. It is
not merely in “the heavens” which “declare
the glory of God,’’ nor “the firmament” which
“sheweth liis handy-work,” that the lessons
of wisdom and know ledge are recorded; on
: earth, likewise, the bounteous sources of men
tal culture and elevation are opened before
us in every conceivable form, and in the rich
est abundance. Every arrangement of cre
ative wisdom and flower, from the composi
tion and motions of the globe itself, down to
: the construction of an atom or an insect, and
the harmony and mutual adaptation of all
these parts —all are beautifully arranged aud
designed for our study and improvement and
delight.
0 . .
H hat then is the intent of education ?
1. It should unfold to man his own intel
lectual and moral nature. He should be
taught wherein he differs, and why he differs,
from the material world, and from the lower
orders of the animal world. He should be
taught the nature and design of his mental
powers—the purposes to which they are to
he applied, and the great end they are de
signed to subserve, ‘This would enable him
satisfactorily to answer the question : What
am I ? It would impress upon him this prac
tical lesson, that he is to be governed, not by
the simple dictates of instinct, or ofappetite;
! much less by the impulses of irregular pas
sion ; but by reason and conscience. It would
i cultivate in him the habit of thinking, of at
tending closely to what is passing within him
aud around him. It would thus reveal to him
most distinctly and impressively, his endow
ments and responsibility—his dignity and de
pravity—his destiny aud his duty. And with
out this, he is totally unprepared for the grave
pursuits of rational existence.
2. Education should furnish to man such a
knowledge of the physical world, as will enable
him to employ its resources for his own comfort
and well being. This is so obvious a truth,
that we are surprised it should be necessary
even to state it. The earth is man’s habita
tion while in the flesh, and all its resources,
vegetable, mineral and animal, are for his sus
tenance and improvement. And yet it is
amazing how very slow mankind have been
to understand what these resources are—their
extent, their variety, their application to the
diversified wants of our race. And the result
. is but too apparent.
No one can make himself acquainted with
the condition of our race without perceiving
how much suffering, and want, and degrada
tion result from this ignorance. If people
were instructed how to employ the means of
happiness and comfort which they really pos
sess, the condition of millions would be un
, speakably better. We see this illustrated
every da y. We go into one cabin, or cottage,
and we find cleanliness, and order, and com
fort in every arrangement. Great use is made
of little means, because a right training pre
sides over all. We go into another, perhaps
; even better supplied with material—but how
great is the contrast! alias filth, disorder and
misery. And you may see the same contrast
if you visit the gardens, the farms, the plan
tations, the workshops, over the country gene
| rally.
Now, it is undoubtedly true, that industry
and idleness tell their tale in this contrast, but
they by no means account for it fully. Many
toil constantly, and yet never prosper. They
need to be taught differently. Ido not say
told differently, but taught differently. We
find a striking illustration of this fact in the
1 history of agricultural improvement. Bar
ren hills and sterile plains, have been convert
ed into most productive fields. The princi
ples and modes of accomplishing this end
have been published, again and again,
without producing scarcely a percepti
ble change. But the teaching of agricul
tural chemistry has furnished the science, and
the Agricultural associations with their peri
odicals have been the schools, in which our
race are being gradually taught. And so it
is in every department of life—in domestic
economy, in agriculture, in mechanics, in
manufactures, in commerce. The truths
which belong to these several subjects must
be taught to mankind so as to form practical
lessons. For in no other way can thev avail
themselves of all the resources which a boun
tiful Providence has supplied, for their com
fort and advancement in the arts and enjoy
ments of civilized life. When God had fitted
up this beautiful world, and delivered it over
to the primal pair as their habitation, his
charge to them was—“Be fruitful, and multi
ply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it.”
All its powers and resources of air, of earth,
of fire, of water, must be subdued, and
brought into subserviency to the multiplied
wants of our raco.
3. Education should impart to man, and im
press upon him such a knowledge of his so
cial and moral relations, as will fit him for
—and responsibilities, both here and
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 4, 1851.
hereafter. Asa man, as a rational and moral
agent, there are duties which he owe3 to him
self and to his God. \s a member of the
human family, there are duties which he owes
to his race. Asa social Ircing, there are duties
which he owes to society. Asa citizen, there are
duties which he owes to the State. These ail de
volve upon him the weightiest obligations, such
as he can neither decline nor transfer. They
rest upon him, individually, giving character
and inliuence to all his varied associations up
on earth, and fixing his destiny in the world
| to come, for which this life is but a prepara
ton’ probation.
Now, assuredly, these duties and responsi
bilities should be clearly understood. And
nothing is of such indispensable importance
to the attainment of this end, as that these
; truths be early and deeply impressed upon
the mind, so that they may enter into the for
mation of the entire character, and mingle
with all the emotions of the heart. How fear
fully the world has been scourged for its neg
; ligence in this behalf! Malice and blasphemy,
falsehood and intemperance, lawless ambition
; and cruel despotism, injustice and oppression,
frightful murders and desolating wars—these
have been the heritage of all nations, as if
. . i
men were determined to kindle the fires of
i perdition on earth, and thus damn themselves
by anticipation. lam not unapprised of the
’ depth of that depravity, of the perverseness
• of that wayward temper, from which thistles
! dating torrent of iniquity flows, and which
bids defiance to mere instruction. But neith
er am 1 ignorant that our race must he re
claimed from this depravity, through the
knowledge of the truth. Whatever, therefore,
may he the power employed, the knowledge
of the truth is the means bv which that pov
•r;
er will operate—and that knowledge it is the !
province of education to impart. Hence the
necessity of teaching, early and faithfully, the
lessons of piety and love, of temperance and
chastity, of justice and truth, of mercy and
benevolence. And all these should he dis
tinctly taught as lessons emanating from God
himself, to whom we must all give account
hereafter. In no other wav can the domin
ion of reason and conscience be completely
| established.
; 4. Such is an imperfect and suggestive out
! line, of what education is expected to perform
; for the mass of mankind. The best modes of:
; accomplishing these results constitute a dis- j
; ferent, but deeply interesting subject of inves
; tigation, into which we cannot now enter.
I It is pertinent, however, to our present design
j to remark, that this process of education is
! the onlv means of elevating the character of
! ( - =
mankind, of developing to their full extent
; all our natural resources, and of making our
I race contented and happy. It is wide of the
! truth to siippdse--and yet the mistake is oft-
I on made —that the increase of prosperity, and
, the general diffusion of wealth, constitute a
! higher civilization. Arid the fatal deduction
I
; is hut too readily and practically admitted,
i that one's standing in society is to he estima
-1 ted according to the extent of his possessions.
; This is an egregious perversion. So far as
i the increase ot knowledge has led to a better
; understanding of the means by which general
| prosperity is advanced, there is an advance
{ ment towards the higher form of civilization.
I The advancement, however, consists in the
’ mental cultivation, not in the pecuniary pros-
I perity, although this latter may be a usual
consequence of the former.
And this thought should correct tire utilita
rian tendencies of an age like our own. That ‘
tendency is to concentrate the public ntten- :
tion and means upon our great works of in- j
ternal and commercial improvement—upon our ;
Rail Roads and Rivers—upon our manufac- j
tories and agricultural improvements—upon
our territory and commerce. But these are j
not the elements of a nation’s true greatness, i
!
That is found in the intellectual and moral j
elevation of her people. This, alone, gives
her conscious strength and superiority.—
And hence the work of general education
should be her first care. Nor can I hut re
joice, that among the topics assigned for dis
cussion during this grand festival, a promi
nent place was assigned for this humble effort
in behalf of public education. For as the
| current of intelligence becomes deeper and
wider, we speed the plow, the loom, and the J
j • l
anvil.
But I turn now to inquire briefly in what
way this great work is to he accomplished.
’ There is, I believe, but little diversity of opin
ion in Georgia as to the propriety and im
portance of general education; and yet there
is a very sad deficiency of appropriate means
for the promotion of this end. This may be
accounted for i:i two ways:
1. There is not a sufficiently deep and
abidii g impression upon the public mind, of
the great importance of right education to
the whole population of the land. It does
not come home vividly as a fell want —it is
not realized in all its magnitude as an indis- j
pensable, fundamental element in the true el
evation and well-being of society. Hence the
disheartening apathy which so widely prevails
j on this subject, when practically presented.
*2. The proper means of accomplishing the
, end itself are very imperfectly understood.—
! There is not presented to the popular mind of!
the country, a simple and practical method
of general education. There are many who
: : would willingly move in this business, if they j
! knew how to move successfully. I proceed
therefore to a brief consideration of this ques
; tion, simply premising, that this work must
, belong to the children of the country. The
reading and reflection of manhood are
sary to complete the work : but its founda
tion must belaid in childhood and youth. It
cannot commence with the adult population.
The most obvious means of universal educa
tion is, that every parent should thus train up
his own children. It is part of the responsi
bility devolved upon him as a parent, for which
he is bound to provide, unless providentially
disabled from so doing. The parent, other
tilings being equal, has opportunities for per
forming this task which no other can have.
And were ail parents competent and disposed
to meet this responsibility fully and fairly,
you perceive the work would be done, for
every child would then be educated. But as
we find the world, and probably will, for long
to come, two grand obstacles are presented :
1. Very many parents are entirely incom
petent thus to train their own children.—
| fl’liey have neither the requisite knowledge
nor the mental training, which would en
able them to perform this function for oth
ers. fl'his is indeed a very sorrowful fact,
lmt it is so; and under the present arrange
ments for education, it must long continue to
be so.
2. The employments to which many are
necessarily devoted, do not leave them the
time required to do this work, fl'ens of thou
sands are dependent upon their daily labor
for the support of themselves and their fam
ilies, and the few hours of relaxation from
i toil which they may find, are absolutely ne
cessary lor refreshment and rest. And the
! same is substantially true of very many pro
fessional men. So that if the education of
1 children depend on their parents alone, mul
titudes will Ik*, as they always have been,
left to grow up in ignorance and vice and
j misery.
Hence it becomes necessary to employ
| others than parents to perform this great
■ work. And this is the origin of schools. —
‘There are indeed other reasons for schools,
beside this of absolute necessity, but this is
sufficient forthe present argument. Here,
however, we encounter at once another scri
: ous difficulty. Schools necessarily involve a
■ considerable expense. ‘Those who devote
; themselves to the business of education for
others must be paid for their labor—and they
ought to be paid liberally. In no other way
can the requisite talent and fidelity be secur
j ed. And for the want of such talent and
! fidelity, the cause of education has suffered
immeasurable damage.
But it is notorious, that very many parents
are unable to meet this expense. ‘They have
not the means of paying for the education of
their children. ‘The causes of this inability,
it is not necessary now to inquire. It is suf
ficient to know that such is the fact, and that
it will continue to be so. In Georgia, there
are at least forty thousand children whose
parents are returned as unable to pay for their
education. And the greatest hardship of
this case is, that ordinarily, those whose oc
cupations deprive them most entirely of the
time for educating their children, and who
are in fact least qualified for the task, are the
least able to employ others to perform this
duty. How then is this obstacle to be re
moved ?
It may, in part, be removed by volunta
ry labor. If every one who is competent,
and has leisure, had also a benevolence suffi
ciently deep and earnest to impel him to the
work, an invaluable contribution might be
! annually made to the cause ofgeneral educa
| - 4 °
tion. And it is but justice to say, that many,
’ both teachers and private individuals, are do
j ing something in this way. And that noble
: enterprise, of which the immortal Raikes was
the founder, prompted and sustained by the
most powerful of all motives— Christian be
nevolence—is shedding the light of learning
| and piety upon many a dark region of the
land. But all this comes immeasurably short
;of the actual wants. ‘These are gentle and
refreshing showers indeed, falling upon a few
! secluded valleys, while the wide and parched
Sahara remains unwatered.
Again : this obstacle might be removed in
part, if those who have the pecuniary ability
would-voluntarily supply the deficiency of
those who have it not. There are many in
stances of such liberality, and some of them
on a noble scale. “But what are these among
\so many ?” All experience proves, that this
resource cannot be relied on for accomplish
ing the work of universal education. What
the Christian Church is capable of achieving
in this cause, were all her energies combined
as they should be, it is not necessary here to
consider.
The only reliable and effectual agency then
is the Slate.
When rightly understood and employed,
nothing contributes so largely to the eleva
tion and security of the human race, as its
organization into distinct commonwealths, in
dependent of each other. ‘The rights and
interests of each individual are better defined
and protected than they could otherwise pos
sibly be. Now, it is unquestionably the duty
| of a State, as such, not only to protect the life,
i liberty and property of its indh idual citizens,
but to employ its associated means, forsecur
i i nfT their highest well being-to extend to them,
under proper restrictions, the means of devel
oping fully, all their natural resources. For
it is perfectly obvious, that in doing this, the
strength and prosperity of the State itself, are
most effectually attained. Upon this princi
ple, copy-rights and patents are secured to in
dividuals, and various works of internal im
provement are carried on at the public ex
pense.
Eat sur= T y, there Is.no one intereitin wflr>h
every other is so completely involved, as that
oi right education—of proper intellectual and
moral training. It concerns mankind individ
ually, socially, and politically ; upon it are
suspended all the great interests and destinies
of society.
And especially is this true in a free govern
ment like our own, where every citizen is
called upon to bear so large a share in the
, public administration, and where consequent
ly, his individual character and influence are
interwoven with the destinies of the State.—
This is a most prolific theme for the orator,
hut I must decline to pursue it now. To my
present purpose it is not necessary. And I
am happy to believe that there is not any ma
terial diversity of opinion respecting it, even
as a question of political economy.
(To be continued.)
LUXURY.
It is t'no favorite theme of historians that
luxury demoralizes and ruins nations. This,
however, is a most superficial view of the cau
ses of the “decline and fall” of empires.
If we found that luxury was universal among
a people—that there was no poor—that there
was no misery or distress beyond the com
mon lot of life—that, in short, the whole Tu
ion was sunk in sloth andiudolonee and idle
ness, surrounded by abundance, then we
might say, with some regietand despair, that
I man was unfit for ease and prosperity, and
that he was only energetic and moral when
harassed by difficulties and threatened with
want.
liut historians write not the historv of na
i tions so much as the history of a class or
classes to which they belong, or on which
they depend. They have scarcely deigned
j to consider the people as having any weight
in the scale of prosperity. Whether well or
ill off, has been to them a matter ol little im
portance. They only viewed the service
the upper class of society, the action of which
was most conspicuous, and they set down a
nation for rich or poor, in proportion as that
class lived honorably or disorderly. Hence
the excellent Rollin, who wrote so sensibly
on the state of nations, says, speaking of the
Romans : “Those whom neither labor, nor
dangers, nor so many adversities could ever
conquer, were suddenly subdued by the soft
ness of repose, and the allurements of plenty
and prosperity.”
We are told by Livy that Pyrrhus, king of
Epyrus, could not bribe that Senate, which,
in the ti ne of Jngurtha, the Nmnidian, only
i sought to sell its decisions to tiie highest
| bidder.
We find that at a later time every prov
| inee groaned under exactions—every free
community was in desolation—every king
dom once contented in its union with liberal
Rome, now complained of oppression, and
was ready for secession.
Hut was all this caused by the introduction
of luxury ? What is luxury ? Did all these
Romans who had become demoralized, revel
in luxury? Did one hundredth part of them, j
in any part of their lives, enjoy one-half the !
luxury which the virtuous Roman patrician ,
enjoyed in the earlier days of the Republic?
If not, what demoralized him? Could it
have been luxury ?
It is quite certain that if demoralization is
caused by luxury, it is equally caused by mis
ery. And which, in these luxurious times,
usually predominated? Wealth or poverty?
Luxury or misery?
It is no proof that the Roman people wore
rich and luxurious, because one man, an ex
tortioner, or an heir of an extortioner, spent
a fortune on a single dinner, or in the con
fection of a single dish.
It is no proof that a people are luxurious,
because, by long habit and study, men have
become skillful as artists and architects, and
have magnificent palaces and temples for ex- ;
travagant, ambitious and greedy men. These i
artists would not have been less able, nor
would they have distinguished themselves the j
less, had thev worked in the interest of the j
whole community, instead of one or several ‘
individuals.
Hut in these deplorable times of“luxury,” 1
about which historians here and there ven
ture to moralize, we have the real facts sufii- ■
ciently divulged, occasionally, to be able to \
form some conclusion as to the state of j
things. We read of revolts, rebellions, riot- j
ings, distress, assassinations, directed against |
the rich for monopolizing the produce of the |
earth, and starving whole provinces and I
kingdoms. We find pestilence, and famine,
and misery, and wretchedness, side by side
with accumulated wealth and colossal for- i
tunes; and these fortunes dwindling aivav
through extravagance and folly, and through
the inability of a people to re-produce riches,
or to consume the usual amount of food or
manufactures; till at last the fortune maker,
when lie can no longer squeeze money from
the people, (who hardly consuming, no lon
ger produce as in former days,) has no means
of re-making his wealth, but by extortion,
swindling, or crime.
‘I has we might sav, that the true cause of
the “decline and fall” of a nation is the im
perfection of its laws, which, permitting to
every man full freedom of action, even to the
detriment of his fellow-man, lean, by an in
evitable course of things, to the impoverish
ment and destruction of the great mass of.
humanitv. The luckier portion accumulate
wealth bv greater skill, more favorable clian
-1 ces, rash adventures, daring robberies, and
even by higher moral qualities—until the sum
ofall tiiis higher adventure, accumulating and
amassing by contrivances, and by changes
and modifications in the laws and usages,
eats up the unskillful, the weak, the power
less, the ignorant, and the industrious.—-Sou
thern Press.
1
We understand our Transatlantic con'ins
have castanev’e on Mr. Kirkman’s specifica
tion, and that on the representations of the j
Lcited States Commissioner to Mr. Abbott
Lawrence, the drawings have been submitted
to that gentleman, who has thought them
worthy of a direct communication to Wash
ton on the subject. As in the case of all dis
coveries which supersede or radically simpli
fy more complicated systems, the present in
vention may remain a long time very sparing
ly adopted. It certainly promises a larger !
profit to the manufacturer and a cheaper and
better article to the consumer; but it is im
possible that a change which effects so large
a saving in wages should not alarm the labor
market and cause hesitation la employ- !
er'. jETv-opcvv* T iif.es.
TERMS OF PUBLICATION.
For or.svaar, if paid in advance, - - -$8 50
” “ “ if not paid in advance, - - 300
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
One square, first insertion, $1 80
each subsequent insertion, - 50
A liberal adduction made ia favor oi those who adver
tise largely.
NO. 49.
TIIE ENGLISH NOBILITY.
| I*’ A*® l°ug ‘lst of three volume, fashiona
ble English novels, which have appeared,
without cessation, for thirty years past, the
| reader will not find one, the horo of which,
, Fitzherbert, or Fitadarence, is not a fine
looking fellow, versed in all manly accom
plishments and carrying universal destruc
! tion to female hearts. In this way, we have
been taught, to believe the English nobility
were, ot all men, the most commanding in
personal appearance and bearing, and these
gentlemen have themselves accordingly taken
the fact for granted. A gossipy correspon
dent ol the New Orleans Picayune , writing
from London, thus flatly undeceives us upon
this point. lie says :
“A simple republican, unaccustomed to tho
i vicinage ot kings, queens, and royal princes,
will often feel embarrassed here in deciding
which is the master and which tiie valet. Yon
1 tall, dignified looking man, in gold laced
breeches, silk stockings chapeaubras, white
cravat and powdered hair, before whom you
j hardly dare remain in an upright position,
j astonishes you with the information that’is
mawsteris not at ’ome, whilst a thin, wriri
| kled, slender-shanked individual, whose
| clothes look as if they had been first squeezed
on, then soaked in a shower, then shrunk
’ up very tight indeed, and worn ever since,
; bobs by you on a high trotting home, and
I yon are told, thero goes his grace the Duke of
So and So. Decidedly and seriously, the
! best looking men, as a class, whom wo have
! seen here, arc the servants —the footmen, tho
! porters, the outriders, &c. They evince a
certain dignity, grave consciousness of fine
calves and knee-breeches, that impress ordi
| nary mortals with deep feelings of respect
j and a strong desire to get out of the way.”
HOTELS IN PARIS*
Every large building in Paris is called a lio
j tel. I lived in one occupied mostly by families,
i which is was the home of seven hundred and
| fifty persons. Each family was ns effectually
| separated from all others, as if living in an
j other house ; the broad stairway is like tho
i street, and meeting on it does not lead to ac
: quuintance. A porter has his lodge near tho
! outer door, which is generally an immense
j gateway, and goes by the name of coach
j door. He makes himself useful in a variety
! of ways, receiving letters, newspapers and
i visiting cards, performing little commissions,
&c. Then he always knows if you are in or
•| not, and often prevents a visitor from toiling
J up two or three, or half a dozen flights of
j stairs; he keeps an eye on suspicious persons
who come in, and sees that you are not pilla
| ged of your furniture in your absence. The
; system is an excellent preservative against
| robberies and burglaries. No entry, except
; on ringing the bell at the great door, and un
! dor the inspection of the porter; no exit, ex
j cept under the same surveillance. Five liun
j dred persons sleep quietly, because they know
j that an Argus is at the gate. During tho sev
! oral years 1 have resided in France, I havo
| never lost the value of a penny by a tiieft in a
’ hotel.
Then there Is a model “Lodging House, ’*
for workmen, in which eighty-two families
’ board in comparative comfort, in the enjoy
j meat of common wash-houses, bath-houses,
! and with the convenience of cellars, well
t lighted broad galleries, and stairways, for a
| rent of less than fifty dollars a year. Each
has three rooms, the largest a verv good one,
a kitchen and a cellar, but the building yields
only about eight per cent, on the-capital inves
ted.—Cor. N. Com.
Progress op American Manufactures.
j —The Dry Goods Reporter, after noticing
: the production of prints after the style of
; high priced French goods, observes:
| One after another the manufacturers of
| Europe are obliged to retire from the field,
i leaving American producers to supply Atner
i ican consumers. First we obtained the mar
ket on brown cottons, and the production of
bleached goods followed as a natural sequence,
jWe then attempted the prints. Tiie victory
| on these goods is within our grasp already.
| Importer after importer is abandoning the im
-1 portation of the Hritisli article. We next at
tempted the cassimere fabric, arid have redu
; ced the importation so low, that none besido
; those engaged in supplying tailors can import
I them to advantage, and even they dare not
i repeat an order. The shawl making was
believed by Samuel Lawrence, Esq. to be a
business that could bo profitably carried on
among ourselves. The correctness of his
judgment is attested by those noble structures,
the Bay State Mills, and those beautiful fab
-1 rics now exhibiting in the fair of the Amer
ican Institute. Last, though not least, came
the manufactures of de laities and cashmeres.
! We have not as yet succeeded in closing the
market against the imported article, but wo
have succeeded in commanding a full share
of the attention of purchasers, and ere an
other year rolls its round, the foreign produ
cer will find that to maintain the volume of
his sales, ho must reduce the cost of pro
duction.
BEAUTIFUL EXTK ACT.
You cannot go into the meadow and pluck
; up a single daisy by the roots, without break
ing up a society of nice relations, and detect
ing a principle more extensive and refined
than mere gravitation. The handful of earth
that follows the tiny mots of that little flow
er, is replete with social elements. A little
social circle had been formed around that
germinating daisy. The sunbeam and the
dew’drop met there, and the soft summer
breeze came whispering through the ta!! grass
to join the silent concert. And the earth took
them to her bosom, and introduced them to
the daisy gem; and they all went to work to
show that flower to the sun. Each mingled
in the honey ol its influence, and they nurs
ed “tne wee canny thing” with an aliment
that made it grow. And when it lifted its
ca Cos towards the sky, they wove a soft car
pet of grass for its feet. And the sun saw
it through the green leaves, and smiled, as lie
passed on: and then, by starlight and moon
light, they worked on. And the daisy lifted
up its head, and one morning while the sun
| was looking, it put on its silver-rimmed dia
dem, and showed its yellow petals to the stars.
! And it nodded to the little birds that were
; swimming in the sky. And all of them that
had silver-lined wings; and birds in black,
! gray and quaker brown, came; and the
, querulousbluebird and the courtesvingyellow
i bird “came ; and each smjg a ra*i T v a*:- a* tho
cordnsfio- of that da;?’"'.