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Q(ftWSKEKBIB&F a EDITED AND PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY If/f-J.f.i.?/ H. MEAKMWSOJT. [FOR THE SOOTHER!! MlSEl'M.] Lines to Mia* H»rf Virginia • There’s beauty on thy cheek, Virginia, There’s brightness in thine eye, And health upon thy form, Virginia, Hath stamped its fairest dye. Life's path is pleasant all before the*, ’Tis opening in thy youth, And smiles and flowers will allure thee To test asserted truth. There’s many a thing in life, Virginia, As moralists have told, Which shines transcendant bright, Virginia, And yet it is not gold ! These things will struggle to ensnaro thee, To quiet thine alarm : But from their splendid looks beware tlieo, And then they cannot harm. There’s fickleness in man, Virginia, And woman will deceive; And when thou claim’st a rose, Virginia, Thou may’st a thorn receive. Let those to whom thou wilt confide thoe Prove worthy of thy care ; For those who never have belied thee Thy confidence may share. Th.e heart of youth doth dream, Virginia, That childhood's golden hours Will never change from joy, Virginia, But still be strewn with flowers. Such visions, if they now enchant tlieo, Will not prolong their stay : For sorrow soon and woe will haunt thee, And then they’ll fade away. But life is not made up, Virginia, Os dull and dark despair : There’s sweetness in the draught, Virginia, And solid pleasure there. For let the cares of earth surround thee, And winter's storms unfold, Ifthou wilt wrap God's word around thee, 1 Thou need’st not fear the cold. And then when life is o’er, Virginia, And 'twill not always last, Beyond the powerless grave, Virginia, What promises thou hast: A title to that realm secure thee, Where sorrow ent’reth not; And when thou dost that home procuro tlieo, 'Twill be a blissful lot! Now is th'accepted time, Virginia, Oh do not long delay ; We know not when to look, Virginia, For the great judgment day. And oh! remember what I’ve told thee, Should we ne’er meet again, Oh! may I at God's bar behold thee, Prepared for Jesu’s reign ! W. P. H. A Loss of Labor Is a Loss of Vtrfuo. Man is a progressive being. From the dust to the cradle, child, youth, manhood, anJ finally through the grave to an angel of happiness or misery—from time into eternity—he catches se raph’s wings, and mounts higher and onward through immensity forever. Ilis destiny is in his own hands, and is us active as his spirit is immortal—eternity alone bounds his progress The wages of sin is death —the father of all is indolence. Then lose not labor or the spirit of industry, nor trifle with the strength that enables you to claim its rich and glorious reward of hon or, virtue, and chastity, as well as the title of being the noblest work of God—an honest man. Oh that we had a pen of steel, from which sentences of fire could blaze forth, portraying the swelling wrongs to labor—that could paint in true colors the glutting waves of rolling ava rice; and, as the spire to the heavens, point to a just standard of public sentiment that should turn back the voracious monster whose heel tracks the blood of virtue and innocense, crushing all power to maintain her standing, while it drags through custom, and drives through selfishness, both labor and its dependents, not only down to poverty aud despair, hut as a natural consequence forces upon its devoted victim the loss even of honor, chastity, and virtue itself. To say nothing of the inability, unfashionable ness, and frequent disinclination to labor, as well as the general and growing competition in labor, we fear and tremble for the institutions of our country when we behold the growing and de nationalizing feeling for the laborer, and partic ularly for the female portion of the community— for our mothers, wives and daughters—for her, who by nature's laws gives birth to a nation's statesmen and wariors—who shall train oui sons and brothers for the next generation of men, and have all power to make them, just what they themselves are, if bowed down, ignorant anil degraded; so will be the future history of our na tion's acts, laws and religion. No nation ever rose above the character of its wives and mothers. Stationary feelings, passions and character in man never fias existed, and never can while time lasts, for like, it they are onward to other bright er or darker scenes. Yes, inan is progressive, al ways striving to o'ertake some master-spirit whose intelligence flashes upon society, and a wakes to life and light the slumbering energies of mankind. Love and sympathy are the only universal weapons of civilization and Christianity. No proper progress ran be made without them, for Christ and his apostles began with them, and first gave us the immortal principle of “love thy neighbor as thyself,” from which we get the nev er dying sentiment that “all men are free and equal.” Do we, as an enlightened and Christian nation, cither obey the one, or seem to believe the other. If so, why so much opposition? Why is labor shunned, and the laborer cast down as unworthy of his hire—robbed of his pay and the privilege to labor by the insulting sneer of arro gance and false pride? When virtue is robbed and chastity dethroned, why do we see such great apathy when once assertained to be the virtue of poverty and industry instead of wealth and indolence, even in the administration of our laws of equal jnstice. The answer is easy. Public sentiment has not a proper standard. Love and sympathy are lost—yea, even buried by many in the growing avarice, pride and self ishness of their own breasts. Their prosperity is too great. They know not whr.t manner of men they are. 3name Americans ! ! Who are we, whence came we? Land of our birth forgive us. How long shall each remain to blacken thine own bright and peculiar character? Shades of Washington and Franklin rerurn!—Puritan fathers, where are your descendants? Awake, arise thou slumbering reformer—thou spirit of justice, mercy and sympathy—and stir the indig nation, and fire the soul of the nation, till she puts forth some lofty hand with power to raise j uomt standard of public sentiment tb.it shall' keep progress with the baser passions, and be worthy of the nation and the age. How shall it be done? says one. Let sympa thy, charity and justice be cultivated and sus tained in each breast till man shall own man and know his brother —till avarice and selfishness shall trail in the dust and cease to forge the chains that enslave the conscience of each suc ceeding generation, and blacken the domestic industry of chaste and honest poverty —till love, virtue and justice become co-equal with the boundless mercy of Heaven’s extended prosperi ty, and we as a nation, still nursing the noble sentiment of our Puritan fathers, “he just and fear not,” shall move on to our proud destiny as a moral example to tho bruised and Heathen nations of the earth. If dead to all else, let us hold to our nation's proud eminence for intelligence and industry— p< int not the finger of scorn that shall level the t <wering consciousness of republican industry and habits in our sons, mothers, wives and daughters, or longer bold to our bosoms tiie scor pion fangs of bigotry and selfishness that curse the waking hours of the laboring parent, and lac erate and destroy the slumbering innocence of the meek, confiding and frugal wife or daughter; hut on the other hand, let as nerve our conscience to justice—pay good and remunerating wages to all , hut let the right arm drop from its socket be fore we oppose defenceless industry, or throw our might of influence into the scale of that pub lic opinion that thoughtlessly invites an aristo cratic, bigoted and selfish sentiment to our shores, to undermine the lowest foundation stone in the mighty fabric of our institutions, and in practice give the lie to the immortal declarations that “all men are equal,” and “the laborer is worthy of bis hire.” Remember, then, that thou, thyself, crush not nor lose labor, for with it goes virtue and cltasli ty —even Heaven itself. Tiie Cartiiksians —Upon examining the hab its and character of tho ancients, it is astonishing to find how much more devout and assiduous they were in their religious duties than the gen erations of modern times. The fcwcentuiies immediately ensuing the birth of Christ were especially marked with this spiritual zeal. Nor was it the ardor of devotion alone which was then so distinguishing, hut there likewise exis ted a variety of sects, and a diversity of tenets, which were almost innumerable. One of the most singular among those various classes ofdc votees, was the Carthusians, so called from the desert Chartreux, the place of their institution. This order was founded in the year 1080, by one Burdo, and was remarkable for the austerity of rule by which it was governed. Its members were not allowed to go out of their cells, except to church, without permission from the superior; nor speak to any person without leave from the same authority. They were prohibited from re taining any portion of their meat or drink for the ensuing day to that when it was placed be fore them. Their beds were of straw covered with felt, and their clothing composed of two hair-cloths, two cowls, two pair of hose, and a cloak, all of which were of coarse texture. In the refectory, they were required to keep their eyes on the dish, their hands on the table, their attention on the reader, and their hearts fixed upon God. What power of self-denial was here exercised, and yet how mistaken a notion, thus to worship their Maker in fear rather than lu\e. The Hindoos. —There is no class of people among the yet unenlightened, who attract such universal attention, and who at the same time are so imperfectly understood as the Hindoos, we can only account for this by allowing the fact, that their national characteristics and their religious forms are more numerous and peculiar than such ns distinguish other uncivilized tribes It appears that tin ir social and civil government is entirely based upon, and almost identified with, their religious tenets, thereby affording them selves a most formidable excuse for the severity and injustice which their forms impose. It may not, perhaps, he amiss to enumerate here a few of those superstitions and creeds which belong to this order. It is universally supposed among them, that by the command of their principal deity, Drama, they were divided into four distinct tribes, or eastrs \ iz: The Bra min, the Kliatry or Soldier, the Üby sc or Hus bandman, and the Zoodera or Laborer. Os these the Bramin is the most noble, taking precedence even ol l’rinces. W hen one of these disgraces himself lie is expelled from his tribe or caste, and when thus disgraced, forms a fifth class call ed Pariahs, or Cltandalas. It is furthermore be lieved by this people, that Brama, (who is allow ed to be supreme) after having created the world, gave existence to a female deity, called Bewaney who is esteemed by the Hindoos the mother of the gods, because she is said to have produced three eggs, whence sprang Brimha, Vislmon, and Shocvah, representatives of the wisdom, good ness, aud /lower us the supreme. It is also firmly believed by the Hindoos, that that they were the first created, and consequent ly the most ancient people in the world—and likewise that they were the first inventors of the game of Chess. Character. —ln cities,and yet more in coun tries the minute discriminations of character, which distinguish one man from another, are for the most part, effaced. The peculiarities of tem per and opinion are gradually worn away by promiscous converse, as angular bodies and un even surfaces lose their points and asperities by frequent attrition against one another, and ap proach by degrees to uniform rotundity. The opinions of every man must be learned from himself. Concerning his practice, it is safest to trust the evidence of others. Where those testimonies concur, no higher degree of certainty can be obtained of his character. To get a name can happen but to few 4 A name, even in the most commercial nation, is one of the few things which cannot be bought— it is the free gift of mankind, which must be de served before it will be grunted, and is at last un willingly bestowed. Man’s study of himself, and the knowledge of his own station in the ranks of being, and bis various relations to the innumerable multitudes which surround him and with which his Maker has ordained hint to be united, for the reception and communication of happiness, should begin with the first glimpse of reason, and only end with life itself. Other acquisitions are merely temporary benefits, except ns they contribute to illustrate the knowledge, and confirm the prac tice, of morality and piety, which extend their influence beyond the grave, and increase our happiness through endless duration. \\ kariness or Mind. — It has been said, and we believe it, that nothing exists without its use. Our cures and misfortunes have their use, as well as our joys and prosperities. If the one el evates the mind with delight, and renders for the time our being or happiness, the other calls us to a true knowledge of what we are—frail, finite and dependent. But though an obvious use can thus be traced, in both our pleasures and our pains, these teach ing us the blessings of our existence, and those bringing us to the knowledge of the conditions on which alone we enjoy them, we have yet ev er found it very difficult to discover the object for which that state of mind was ordained us, which seems to partake neither of pleasure or pain. Vie mean a certain listlessness, which every student, we are sure has frequently experienced, when the mind, enervated and worn, lies as though it were becalmed on the ocean of the w'orld—and yet lies not asleep, but wide awake to the weariness of the time. When nothing seems of sufficient importance to excite the de sires, and nothing sufficiently intimidating to awaken it into fear or anxiety. It is not a state of sorrow for we grieve at nothing. It is not a state of pleasure, for we can delight in nothing. When in this frame of mind, we endeavor to fix our attention on the familiar objects about us, we find it not in our power—that so soon as we grasp one object of thought, we lose hold on those immediately preceding it, and the connection be tween them escapes us. And when we make an effort to withdraw our eyes from the objects a round, and pursue a train of sublimer reflection, wc still find that the spirit flags aud flutters on the earth, as though it were fettered, and is whol ly unable to|exert itself in the contemplation, either of its bcuificent creator, or the works of his hand. Let it not be deemed presumption in man, to inquire for what was this state of the soul design ed? Every development of the principles of nature is nothing hut the tracing out the design of the Almighty architect. We may surely then, venture to surmise, for what objects this state of the mind might have been intended. Mu y it not have been intended to shew us, by I the unwiliiiguess with which we hear it, how | j little consistent with the nature of our being is j | mar tit ity or nothingness? How absurd for man, j I in any situa'ion, to wish either that he had nev- I jcr been horn, or to die? May it not also be de- | | signed to bring us to a true notion of the value ; of pleasure and pain, by placing us in the #nly ( ■ situation in which we can be said to be alike in- ; ! different to both? IVfby it not be Further design- i j oil to teach us, that however opposite to our in- I elinations our condition may be in any scene of ! life—yet there is not only a use, buta benevolent use, (though often far beyond the scope of our limited capacity to conceive) in every change, i and in every circumstance? II e who hath pervaded every corner cf crea- j I lion in the fullness of his bounties, yvili never j forget man in the fullness of his love. What j seems at present an evil, yve vet are bound to | believe is intended for good, llisa blessing to lie ' born—it is a blessing to enjoy our existence—it is a blessing to suffer—and a blessing, at the ap pointed time, to die. For lie has designed all, and all nature proves that his designs are be nevolent. M A CON, G A SATURDAY MORNING, DEC. 9, 1843. HU* We design, in the publication ofourpa per, to encourage domestic talent, and wc should be highly pleased to see those of our friends who can possibly do so, favor us witl an article or tyvo. We desire to make the Musium interesting to all classes, and therefore wish aur correspondents to have their offerings of varied characters, “From grave to gay, from lively to severe." To Advertisers. —The arrangements now making to extend the circulation of our paper in this city and the surrounding country, already warrant the filling up of our advertising co lumns. The success of our enterprise has fur exceeded our most sanguine expectations, and, | in the fust two weeks of its existence, our edi tion is as large as wc contemplated publishing in the first volume. This is cheering to us, and yve need hut the aid of the advertising public, to make our paper of more interest to the mass of the people, and to improve its size and appear ance. No pains shall be spared on our part to lender all of our patrons an abundant return for their support. Wo do not wish the public to judge of the Museum from the published issues —there are many leading features which we have, as yet, been unable to present to our read ers, by which we expect to enhance the value of our paper. Nor have yve been furnished with an exchange list, to make our selections, which, together with other circumstances, needless now to mention, have prevented a variety in the neyvs department. In order to make these additions, it is desirable that we be aided by the mercantile class. Still, we do not beg for their patronage ; we are confident that the pub licity given to their advertisements yvili amply justify the expense, and we think that our mer chants need but the knowledge of their interests, to act in accordance with them. McMakin’s Model American Courier.— We perceive that not only tire name oftliis mam moth weekly is enlarged, but also its size and the variety of its reading matter. Wo have en grossed many hours very pleasantly, poring over the miscellany of its distinguished contrib utors, and we doubt not that many weary hearts and enquiring minds are cheered and animated hv its weekly arrival. The Courier has, we believe, the largest circulation of any Literary paper in the Union, amounting to upwards of seventy thousand ! Wright’s Casket. —This is a monthly pa per, devoted to the improvement of the minds ofthe Wives and Daughters of America, and to the creation of a pure Literature. We com mend it, and the “Paper” also, most heartily to our readers, ->nd when we reflect that its subscrip tion price is but 25 cents per annum, wc are as sured that its editor will meet with the most lib eral support. We shall take occasion, upon the first opportunity, to notice the object of its pub lication more in detail. The Weather. — If we did not know that tve were really near the middle of December, in the midst of leafless trees and withered vegeta tion, the balmy air and extremely pleasant wea ther, would i eully make us conclude it to be the flowery month of May. We do not remember to have seen, at this season of the year, the at mosphere so warm, or the beautiful moonlight nights so agreeable, as they are now. We do not know what is to follow, unless we are to have a postponement ofcold weather until next winter, or perhaps, as it is near the close of “Leap Year,” the last opportunity is afforded for the gentle sex to “propose” during their eve ning promenades. Taking this for granted, as there is no time to lose, our fair friends had best throw pff their natural timidity, go about the work with confidence, and hid adieu to spinsterhood and 1848 at one and the same time. We promise, on our part, to post up in a con spicuous place in our Museum, the first bache lor who dares to put the negative to such a ten der appeal, as it is certain lie would be an un accountable curiosity. O’A youth in Cincinnati lately married his sister’s cook. He was determined to provide far the kitchen. Tlic Low Price of Colton. A great deal has been said about the present depressed state of our staple market; many rea sons have been assigned for it; vague and un certain disputations have been entered into by politicians, assigning causes foreign from the truth, and many have either wilfully or igno rantly misrepresented the true state of affairs. We trust that wo shall not lay ourselves liable to a charge of inconsistency, in our party neu trality, if we indulge in a brief review of the cottrn tradq as it now stands, and the causes which have produced this disastrous reduction in the price of this all-controlling article. In the first place we raise too much Cotton ; in the next, wc suffer it to control us to a much more extensive degree than it should—and lastly, we arc too dependant upon foreign consumption for the sale of this product. An extensive demand in England causes an increase in the price there, and consequently in this coustry —while a dimi nution in Liverpool prices affects our markets with a siinilardecrea.se. The recent revolution upon the continent of Europe, depressed the limisli shipments, and likeyvise the American j exports —and the pockets of the people of the | United States have to suffer for the introduction <>.‘'.lll uncertain and extremely unstable Republic in France. Be this as it may, we intend not to make a bravado speculation upon the qualifica tions of that people for self-government —we feel inclined to sanction every attempt, even though it be an unsuccessful one, to shake off' the dominion of monarchy. Still, whatever depreciating aid may have been given by events abroad, w« charge home upon our own citizens and countrymen a great measure of the responsi bility for their pecuniary embarrassments. We, at the South, imperatively demand, and must have, if yve listen to our interests, a greater di versity of labor. We raise Cotton at -1 or 5 cents per pound, and send to the North to buy our provisions ! We have to pay nearly as high for Northern and English manufactured goods when Cotton sells at 3 cents, as when wc get 12J for it. The farmer is dependant upon the merchant for his yearly supplies, and the merchant upon foreign markets for the profits of his merchan dize. IfCotton is low at the time of planting, the farmer must produce a larger quantity to co ver the prospective deficit, and to raise his usual income from that source. IfCotton falls unex pectedly, he is left minus a proportionate amount of money, and is either tiiat much in debt, or loses so much of his profits. Now, the correct rule of arguing, to our mind, is this: (if the hypothesis be allowed, that the amount of fered for sale rules the price of purchase, or that the demand governs the price of the supply,) ifCotton brings 5 cents per pound with a supply of two millions of bales, a decrease of one half the produce would double the price of the re maining quantity. Thus, if the farmer should raise one hundred bales upon one hundred acres of land, and receive 5 cents for it, would it not manifestly be to bis interest to plant but fifty acres raise but fifty bales, and receive ten cents per pound for the proceeds? Most assuredly. Be cause, in that case, lie has the use of one half of bis land, and one half of his labor, for the production of grain, or whatever else he may sec fit. People of the South! how long shall this simple, but self-evident truth be disregard ed by you ? How long will you adhere to the old beaten track of a century, when it may be conclusively demonstrated to your satisfaction, that it will forever keep you in a state of abject dependance upon those who have no sympathies in common with you ; they who would willing ly, if they could, make you lose 25 per cent, up on your Cotton, and pay them a price by which they can realize 100 per cent, upon their manu factures? Farmers! by -your labor and indus try, by the sweat of your heated brow, you arc to make a menial profit of 2 or 3 per cent., and they, by the operation of purely mechanical means, are to realize 30 or 40 ! We appeal to the sense ol justice of every right-minded man, if this is an equality of privileges? Wc speak regardless of the usages of party ; we care noth ing shout them : we aim* at making an exposi tion of the truth and nothing but the truth, nor shall the servile fear of offending partizan ears, deter us from the performance of this duty. We proclaim it, alike in the hearing of both poli:i cal parties, that without a more independent ex ercise of the available resources of the Southern country ; without a more diversified farming in terest, we never shall obtain a steady, fair com pensation for our Cotton ! Has not the history of the past proved this fact ? When has the Cotton market been at a uniform rate of prices for a twelvemonth together ? When lias it nev er been fluctuating, rising and fulling at the ca price of arbitrary consumers? When, under the present posture of affairs, will it ever beata reliable and constantly remunerating price? We fear it never will be, so long as the production continues to exceed the amount of consumption. Are not the farmers, then, the men who pro duce the staple of the country, to blame for the decrease in Cotton? Can the farmers of this section of the country raise nothing but Cotton upon their lands? Is the soil only calculated to produce that staple ? If they can prove this to be the case, then arc they excusable ; if not they are chargeable for their own losses. It is a notorious fact, known to every one who has ex amined the climate or the surface of this section that almost everything necessary for home con sumption, can he produced upon our lands.— Yet Southern farmers will persist in raising an article which does not pay them 2 per cent, pro fit, and, in very many instances, buy with the proceeds, the articles necessary for their planta tion use. If our planting friends bear with us a a moment, we will tell them what we conceive will be the only probable means of obtaining a fair price for Cotton. Wo will not assume, however, our statements to be correct, hut, as they are intended more for comparison than for accuracy, they will serve the present object. If the amount of the crop planted is reduced one half, employ your land in raising corn, for in stance, feed it v. way to your hogs the coming year, and bring the hi con to market. This arti clo is generally worth 8 or 10 cents per pound, hut, for the sake of argument, wo will place it at 5 cents, the lowest rate to which it is likely | to fall. An acre of ground, we suppose, will ; produce corn enough to raise 400 lbs. of bacon, which, at 5 cents per lb., is S2O, while the same amount of land will make 200 lbs. of Cotton, which, at 5 cents per lb., will amount to $lO, making a balance of $lO per acre in favor of ba con ; besides the almost absolute certainty of enhancing the ptice of Cotton one-half. Thus, at the loiecst price of bacon, you make more than by raising Cotton at double the present quo tations ; while if you receive from G to 8 cents for it, by far the most reasonable supposition, you make more than if you receive 12 cents for Cotton, and, at the same time, use the most in fluential means of increasing the price of the sta ple. It is not our intention to present to our agricul tural friends, arguments calculated to allure them in the theoretical, and injure them in their practical use. We desire to see them prosperous and happy, and while we yield the palm of more extensive knowledge in the practi cal part of agricultural pursuits, we are assured that they need only to turn their attention to these suggestions, given, it may he, long ere this, to acquiesce in them, and test their valua ble results. As it is now, we must look up w ith awe and reverence to that great power, which can ruin millions by its capricious value. There is not a class in the community, at all connected with business affairs, which is not af fected more or less,by the riseor fall in the price of Cotton—while to some classes, and most influ ential ones they are too, it concentrates their all, and is either the means of making their for tunes, or of rendering them bankrupts. Labor, at the South, if we expect to make it either use ful or profitable, must he more versatile—it should not he centred upon one monopolizing production, hut, by the mutual dependance of a variety of interests, one upon another, render ing, thereby, all classes independent Wo hope to sec this desirable result consummated soon. Tlic mechanic. He only is truly great, who promotes the hap piness of Ids fellow-creatures, and renders him self useful to them. A conqueror may bathe a nation in blood, and come forth a mighty mur derer: but tlic tears of orphans and widows, rendered helpless by Ids brutal command, rise up in condemnation, and strip him of Ids empty glory. A statesman may hold a nation suppli ant under his powerful mind ; but the loftiest soarings of his fervid eloquence are inferior to the strokes of the sledge-hammer, unless their object be to benefit mankind. The coffers ofthe millionaire, locked up in bis miserly clutch, are valueless beside a score of nails in the carpenter’s hand. The learning of the literati, confined to vain and useless theories, is eclipsed by the practical knowledge of an unpretending farmer. How much, then, do we owe to the truly great man, the plain, honest, industrious Mechanic ! His hands arc rough with the toil of the ham mer and the plane, and Ids face is burned by the scorching rays of the sun—yet Ids heart is warm, Ids affections are glowing, Ids emotions arc pure, and bis conscience clear ! Ilis ears arc open to the cry of pity, and Ids hands and purse are ready to aid in the ministry of the benevolent, 110 robs no wife of her husband ; lie makes none fatherless ; be snatches not the hard-earned penny of the widow; tie tears not the bread from the orphan’s mouth ; lie causes not the burst of anguish, nor brings down the curse of the destitute; —the nobleman of nature—the Mechanic ! Ilis slumber is sweet, and his moments of lei sure unalloyed by the nausea of luxiirv. He feels not the gnawings of morbid ambition, nor the witheriugs of disappointed preferment. He Hatters not the pride of the rich, nor bends to the craven power ofthe unjust. There are some ladies who would not marrv a mechanic—very well : they arc beneath him ! There are some men who will not countenance a mechanic—it is well : their favor would not honor him ! Nature pays her court to him, and lies pliant in his hands, while she turns away in disdain from the purse-proud aristocrat ! Docs he need testimonials of his worth? Be hold our cities—they tie the monuments of his grandeur! Speak to him, man of wealth ! thy gold is dross without him ! Speak to him, man of intellect, thou art his debtor! Revere him, ye sagos ! bow to the man of the kind heart, the rough hand, the toil-worn brow—the good, the great the noble Mechanic! Monotonv. —Perhaps there is nothing more distasteful to a reading mind, than a long scries of ideas, dressed and re-dressed in the most en gaging language, and at all periods served up to assume the appearance of originality. There is no better evidence of a shallow intellect, than to see a man delving, and straining to obtain a sentence, and then trimming off the sharp edges, and substituting one phrase for another, until it haslost its primitive verhage. Education may give the command of language, and a pow er of expression, hut it cannot he tiie creator of thought—because, if talent he assisted by ed ucation, an outlet is opened to description, in a precise ratio with the capacities of the mind’, hut if education ho the only possession, the motive power being wanting, the maks of knowledge is inert, and, as a consequence, it is valueless. Thus it is, that men become wearisome in their sermons, their speeches, or their writings—they may be men of learning, notwithstanding, and possess all the material of a beautiful composi tion, hut, lacking the variety, the depth and power of thought, they are compelled to keep their ideas in a dull, monotonous channel. In a newspaper, this is most reprehensible. If an editor be without this talent of nature, lie should never place himself in a position where lie has to cater for such a great multitude of tastes, as various as the features of the human face. This is an evil we intend to guard against, and though we assume not to remedy it entirely, we shall endeavor to discharge our duty, and leave the public to overlook the defects in our capacities. KpThe population of Delaware ia 80,000— the number of bushels ofw heat raised is 410,000 and the product of all the agriculture of the State is $2,679,000. Tub Central Railroad. — By reference to the advertisement in another column, it will be seen that the Annual Meeting of the Stock holders of this Company will take place at Sa vannah on Thursday next. The Republican says, “We learn that of the ten miles of new iron just received for the Cen tral Road, seven and a half miles will be laid down at this end of the Road, and two and a half at the Macon end. This disposition of it will give an ample supply of the flat bars on this end, and of the T bars on the other, for such occasional repairs as may be needed, and this system will, we presume, be continued as often as new iron may be required, until the entire road shall be completely renewed. The receipts ofthe Central Road thisyear will be much largor than they have ever been before, and it may with justice be said that its prospects were nev er better than at present.’’ Remarkable Aniiqbities in New Mexico.— Among the valuable publications of the United States Senate, at the last session, is Lieutenant Abf.rt’s Report of bis Topographical examina tion of Now Mexico. He explored the country thoroughly in the years 1846 and 1847, with a detachment of the Topographical Corps, by or der of tho Government, and his report reveals the existence of the remains of the semi civilized race that has disappeared. In the language of a distinguished antiquary, it enables us fully to identify the “Kingdom ofthe Cibola, ’ visited by Castenada, the chronicler of Ceronado’s ex pedition, sent Northward by the Viceroy Men-- doza in 1540-'42. Some of the towns visited by Lieut. Abert sti 11 bear the name by which they were known in the 16th century, and the inhabitants, in manners, mode of building, &c , have under gone scarcely any perceptible change from that period. The town of Acoma, visited by Lieu? Abert, probably dates hack beyond the conquest aud was one of the “seven cities” ofCastcnada. It is situated upon a rock, inaccessible except by a narrow, and, in part, artificial passage,— The buildings are three and four stories high, with no entrance from the ground. The stairs recede so as to leave terraces in front, which nro reached by moveable ladders. The openings into the interior are through the roof. In case of attack the ladders are withdrawn, and tho buildings, fifty or sixty of which compose a block or square, are immediately converted into an al most impregnable fortress. One of these edi fices, the “Pueblo de Taos,” has successfully resisted all tho attacks of the wild Indians and the Spaniards. It is seven stories high. It was reduced by the American forces, January 7th, 1847, by a long and bloody siege. The ruins of ancient buildings, and the traces of a remote population, are numerous upon the river Gila* They differ in many respects from those of New Mexico. Their existence has long been known, and lias been supposed to lend a sanction to the extraordinary migration ol the Aztecs, by whom it lias been conjectured they were built Those which are standing arc com posed of clay, and are several stories in height. Upon the Gila, Lieut. Emory found t*vo sin gular semi-civilized aboriginal tribes. They are the Pintos and Coco Maricopas. They cul tivate the soil, irrigating it by means of nume rous canals, and live upon the most friendly terms with each other. They are hottest, in. dustrious, brave, but peaceable, and in all res pects afford a contrast to the roving Apaches who occupy the country to tho northwestward.— Lieut. Emory heard of similar tribes in the ter. rilory above the Gila, between the Piipos and the Navajos, which are probably the. same with the Moqui of Humboldt. One of these, the Soonies, are represented to he farther advanc ed in civilization than the Pintos. It is also stated that they reside in caverns cut in the rocks —suggesting at ortcc the “seven oaves” front which the Aztecs claimed that their ancestors migrated. Although the remains found on the Gila pos sessed few features in common with the struc tures erected by the Mexicans, and are certainly not beyond the capabilities ofthe present or an cient Indians of Now Mexico, they still attest the former existence here of a population differ ing from the Pintos at least in the construction of their edifices, and which may have migrated Southward or disappeared under the attacks of hostile neighbors. They certainly tend to con firm the Aztec tradition, and invest the unknown nations to tho northward with new interest. A knowledge ofthe true character of these nations is a great desideratum. Arkansas. —Gov. Drew, in his late Message, estimates that the population of the State will roach 300,000 when the Federal census shall be taken in 1850, which will entitle her to three Representatives in Congress after that time On the subject of Slavery in tlm Territories, the Governor considers that tho people, in forming a State Constitution, have a perfect right to tolerate it, any act of Congress prohibiting the emigration of citizens with their slaves, to the contrary notwithstanding. The institution of slavery, he says, is local, not national. Messrs. Borland and Sebastian have recent ly been elected U. S. Senators, the former to fill Mr. Sevier’s vacancy ; the latter that of Mr. Ashley. It was thought Mr. Sevier would he elected for six years commencing on the 4tli of March next. Emoiiy College. —There are at the present time in this institution one hundred and sixteen students, of which nineteen are Seniors, thirty six Juniors, twenty three Sophomores, and thir ty eight Freshmen. Terms of tuition, $44 per annum. Board, including fuel, washing, Ac., from $9 to sl2 per month. Import ok Sugar. —The Baltimore Sun says; “We see it stated that in the first six months under the now Tariff, (from Ist December, 1846, to Ist June, 1847,) we imported $6,847,559 in value of sugar against $1,589,284 in the same six months ur.Jer the tariff of 1842, showing an excess of over five and a quarter millions of dollars, or 128,515,189 lbs. sugar. In this ratio the increased importations of the year were over tlcrcn. millions dollars. This is on enormous excess over what had boon calculated upon.”