The Southern museum. (Macon, Ga.) 1848-1850, October 06, 1849, Image 2

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EDITED AND PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY W 31. « . H.IKKISO > . CITY PHIST ER. [FOK THE SOL* TII ERN Ml SEIM.] Lines from a Student to hU Lady-Love. A1 ary ! hast thou not seen the cloud In summer’s sultry hour, O’erspreail the spotless a/ure sky, And dim the sun - * bright power? And whilst the heavy vapors threw Their sparkling drops around, A little spot of brightest hue Would in the heavens be found ? ’Tis thus, my love, n settled glooin Sinks heavy on my htart, Which dims the sunshine of tny soul, Till health and peace depart. But whilst the clouds of sorrow vent Their torrents on my head, One star unclouded hrightly beams When other hopes are fled. And shall I tell its name to thee ? Wouldst thou that planet know ? Have words—though passed perhupsin jest— Have I not told thee so : It is thyself ; aye, Mary, aye, Thy graceful, fairy mien ; For gloom and sadness both withdraw W'hen thy dear form is seen. Mary ! hast thou not looked ere now Across the cloudless night, And viewed a meteor cross its path And cast its snowy light Like pearls to every glitt’ring crest, That threw its feeble ray Where Luna, in lone silence dressed, Succeeds the orb of day? ’Tis thus thy visage flashed across My then undarkened sky, And lit to splendor every nerve, And then as quick passed by*. Thy being was, I fondly thought, A seraph from above, Sent by the angels from thy homo For some good deed of love. But Mart f meteors ne’er return When once they fade away, And but a moment can we see Their beauteous, Hooting ray ; But now mine eyes may gaze for time Upon thy cherry cheek, And think with passion’s fondest rhyme, And with mine actions speak. For I have seen thee once again, Have gazed with rapture still, And whilst surrounded by such scenes, What theme can care instil ? And l have found thee what at first Thy frankness seemed to be, A being with all graces fraught, A fiiend to Jove and me. But Mary ! thou art young as yet, Not entered on the sphere Where woman acts her truest part, And claims ntfention’s tear. Then promise now ere thou hast reached The zenith of thy life, \\ lion age and prudence shall permit That thou wilt be my wife. For sliouldst thou hesitate to seal This covenant of ours, Till thou art placed, in womanhood, Amongst the full blown flowers : Some nobler heart and stronger mind Will claim thee as their own, And bid me wander through the earth Unhappy and alone. W. P. 11. Greene Superior Court. The Court met on Monday last to pass sentence upon John Hall, convicted at the late regular Term, of the murder of Ful ler. His elder brother, also charged as a principal in the murder, will not be tried before March next. The prisoner has the appearance of being not over eighteen years of age. When arraigned at the bar, he was asked, if he had any esuse to show why sentence should not be passed against him. His Counsel, after adverting to the youth of the prisoner and the recommen dation of the Jury to the mercy of the Court, remarked that, “against the sen tence we have not a word to say.” Upon which Judge Meriwether addressed the prisoner in substance as follows : The Jurors who have passed upon your guilt, have most sincerely recommended you to the mercy of the Court. By that recommendation of mercy, I understand an invocation, that the Court would exer cise its discretionary power to commute your punishment of death, to that of im prisonment for life in the Penitentiary.— As the evidence upon which you have been convicted is of that character which in vests me with the discretion to commute, I shall most cheerfully yield to the wish which has been so feelingly expressed by the Jury. And to you it is most truly an act of the utmost mercy, that your life does not pay the penalty of your crime. The un happy man who fell by your hand, receiv ed no mercy from you. Earnest and honest as was his dying prayer, that you would stay your murderous blows, yet brutal, and regardless of every human sympathy, you continued their infliction until tliat life, which this day is spared to you, was extinct in him. To your tender years, and the once kind and affectionate relation you bore to your aged step-father,before the supposed temp ter led you to the coniission of crime, you dbubtless owe the boon which your coun try has invoked in your behalf. In the annals of crime, 1 can recur to do case wiiete the blood of man has been more vindictively sought, than that of Full cr» b y yourself. He had reared you from early childhood—lie had ever been to you a kind and generous connection. He had protected you, when, in tender years, you needed his protection—he had sustain ed you w hen in the hour of childish fee bleness you demanded bis supporting arm. \ou wete sharing in the generous hospi talities of his humble home, and reposing in the confidence of his parental-like re gard for you, w hen the fiendish deed with which you arc charged, was perpetrated. A deed induced by the basest and worst passions of the heart, a murder for plunder. The killing was brutal beyond concep tion. Its circumstadces showed an aban donment of heart seldom met with in one of your axtreme youth. Mingled with your blows, were heard his dying cries toyou for mercy ! mercy ! ! And when darkness had veiled all things earthly, privately and stealthily you con veyed his body to the water, and there with weights and chains about it, you committed it to its resting place, vainly thinking, as the last wave closed over it, it was forever hid from human eye. But vain indeed, is the effort of crime to conceal its existence, when penetrated by the all-seeing eye of God. “Trifles light as ait” pointed to the deed—events too trivial to provoke inquiry, except when crime was involved, unfolded that tale of crime. That human hair or two upon the stone —that drop of blood upon the bar at the gateway, spoke with trum pet tongue, the perpetration of the horrid crime. Your hasty flight when none but a guilty conscience pursued, pointed to you as its fiend-like author. You were arrested—your trial has been had.and you now stand before the country to receive the sentence of its outraged laws. Thus it S ever with crime. The best laid schemes to conceal its existence— the best concocted plans to escape detec tion, contain within themselves the very elements of its discovery. Every precau tion which you threw aroud yourself for potection, but pointed the more plainly to your guilt. And by a chain of circumstan ces the most perfect in its character, with -a conflicting ordiscordant fact through out —after a most patient trial and the severest scrutiny which the ingenuity of able counsel could afford, your guilt, be yond a reasonable doubt, has been most clearly and fully established. As the evidence was developing on your trial, the inquiry frequently presented it self to my mind, what could have induced your participation in this most horrid act ! You had ever been on the kindest and most friendly terms with your aged step father—you both seemed to have enjoyed each other’s confidence and regard—your character as a mild, peaceable, well-be haved youth was clearly established—no bickerings bad ever marred your friendly intercourse—and we heard of no distrust —no disquietude between you until your murderous arm was raised to takg the life of your kind-hearted benefactor. What could so suddenly have changed this cur rent of manly and generous affection to that malignant hatred which could be sat isfied alone with life l A gloomy myste ry indeed, overhangs this sudden and vio lent change! If it it he true, as has been alleged for you, that the earnest persuasions of an in timate relation, exercising a controlling influence over your mind, seduced you in an evil hour from the path of virtue, then your condition invites our deepest sympa thies and commisseration for your misfor tunes, while yet we cannot cease to abhor and condemn the consequences of your acquiescence. But yet we might still ask, how it was, that one, so apparently inno cent, so guiltless, could, in the brief period of a day or two, become so corrupt, by as sociation, as to become the murderer of your own dearest friend ! and that too, when the prospect of plunder which would full to your share, the price of your crime, even if you should be so fortunate as to escape detection, was so inconsiderable ? In looking over the history of your life as detailed by the evidence, theie was one fact elicited, which, in my humble judg ment, speaks volumes, as to the cause of your unhappy fate. You were raised with out restraint, and spent your Sabbaths fish ing in the creek, savs one of the witnesses. Th ere, sir, arises the cause which made you the ready victim of temptation. You were raised without the teachings of a moral education. Those restraining influ ences which check the passions, and give to man a proper estimate of his moral ac countability, as inculcated by the high re ligious truths of the Bible, never rested upon you. You were never taught to re verence the Sabbath day—and habituated to disregard it—the habitual neglect of those kindred commands which impose this duty upon us all, also followed. The strength of your feelings as to your moral accountability, if indeed, they have ever been aroused, was weakened, and vour moral sensibility had become blunted and seared, by the immoral habits of child hood. Hence when the temptation was presented, with no moral power to resist, you yielded to its seductions, and doubt less, without a compunction at the enor mity of ilie act you were invoked to per petrate. In the economy of Providence, man has been made a morally accountable being. His mind has been filled with desites which are inherent in his very nature, and his weal or woe in life is made to depend upon that restraint, to which he may sub ject their gratification. Our own experi ence tells us that the more they are indulg ed, tlie more difficult and impossible their satisfaction becomes. One indulgence be comes the stimulant to another. We are led on ftom desire to desire, from gratifi cation to gratification, until eventually we are overwhelmed in one restless desire, which never knows or feels the power of satisfaction. To check these desires, which when unrestrained, are the parent of vice—and to hold them in proper bounds, is the pur ! pose and aim of moral education. In a word, it teaches us moral subordination, as indispcnsible to the pursuit of virtue, and without which there is neither happi ness, nor security from vice, in this world. It enables us to determine the right from the wrong, and to resist temptation, how ever delusive its snare, or however capti vating its enchantments. This is the great end of moral education. It is a desiro most natural and common to us all, to acquire property, and when directed by moral education, it prompts to industry, economy, and energy, and thus becomes a benefit to society—when left to its unrestrained impulses, it leads to theft and to robbery, and even to murder as a means of their accomplishment. It was this desire of gain unrestrained by moral influence which has doomed you this day, at the bar of vour country, to re ceive the sentence of its violated laws.— May I not with truth exclaim, how ruin ous, how defective lias been your educa tion, when tliis great element, so cssenlial to your happiness, and security from vice, lias been so entirely wanting. The passenger on the high seas, when wrecked by the storm, may perchance, by clinging to some fragment of his vessel, with propitious gales and waves, reach the shore in safety. But, yet, luvv many thousands of others, similarly situated, find a grave beneath the waves which buf fet them ! So it is with man on the great voyage of life—without moral education, with no temptation to beset him, he may reach the grave without the parpetration of crime, yet in the frequent indulgence of vice. Bullet temptations surround him, and he sinks beneath a power more resist less than the surging waves. Since 1 have presided on this Circuit,it has occurred before me, in this county, that twice two brothers have been atraign ed before me, for a joint participat on in the crime of murder. One lias forfeited bis life upon the gallows, another is the miserable inmate of a gloomy prisor, and your fate can be nothing better than his.— In tracing the history of these four men, flic lamentable fact presents itself, that in youth their moral education was wholly neglected ! What a solemn admonition does not this give forth to every parent who hears me '! How forcibly does it ap peal to every parent, to give the most care ful thought to the moral education of those who l>y nature have devolved the most weighty responsibilities upon him ] And does not this want of moral education commend itself to every philanthropist, as having its origin in the still further want of literary education 1 It is a fact over which we all may most profitably reflect. Toyou,sir,amost gloomy future spreads out. You can look upon the past with no pleasing reminiscence—henceforward, your youth, your manhood, and even de crepid old age, must, be spent within the gloomy walls of a prison ! How heart rending is such a thought! and yet, you owe it all to the indulgence of your own bad passions. There is nothing in your position, which by any means forbade a different fate. From the character of your crime, you need not hope that the pardoning power of mercy will ever strike asunder the chains of servitude which bind you. It would be idle thus to hope. But while the pardon of man mav never reach you let me entreat you to seek that of the Most High, both to solace you here, and prepare you to stand at His bar hereafter. The prisoner was then sentenced to hard labor during his natural life in the State Prison. Experiments with the Cotton Gin. —l he following experiments with the cotton gin communicated by a correspon dent of the Southern Cultivator, will be interesting to many of our readers. The writer say Being much troubled by my gin not dropping ihe motes and trash, I closed both ends at the bottom- Tnis, by lessening the current of air under the gin, was some service ; but not sufficient. The brush-wheel was made in the ordinary way, by draming the bristles double through bars about 11-2 inches wide, un der which bars was a lining ofosnaburgs. Being satisfied that the wheel created too strong a current, I cut strips of osnaburgs just wide enough to reach from one row ot brushes to another, tacked them on the *outside of the bars ; thus destroying the fan and leavinb nothing but projection of the bristles to create a current. This was still sufficient to throw eut the lint, while the motes and trash fell behind the mote board. Instead of heavin as formely, to clean out the trash and motes once a "day, it now had to be done every hour. Find ine the experiment succeeded, I had the brush wheel taSen out and the spaces be tween the bars closed with thin plank ; thus converting it into a drum-wheel. The cotton which the gin now makes is worth from 1-4 to 1-2 cent more than that made by the same gin before the alteration. There is an objection to the brush wheel. The® ristles, as is the usual way, are drawn in double, and as all hair "is bearded in one direction, half the beards are necessarily turned down and serve to j catch lint ; rendering it necessary fre- I quently to open tlie gin and clean off the brushes by hand. If the brush-wheel he | made of narrow strips of plank, just as i wide as you wish the rows of brushes a pait, and (he bristles he glued to pieces ot tape, or narrow strips of homespun, or to the edges of the plank itself, with the small end of the bristles turned outwaid, they may, on putting the wheel together, be confined in the joints, so as to hold them fast, snd the beards being all turned outwards the brush will keep itself clean. I will farther add that the breast of ev ery gin should be closed below the seed board; leaving, of course, sufficient room for the seed to fall. The breast can be as eosily haisted, when necessary, by small knobs as by the under edge of the breast board. ’ Railway* in India—Dearth In Cotton. The gloomy accounts relating to the cotton crop of 1949, which have been re ceived during the last fortnight, naturally cause many of our Lancashire readers to turn with renewed interest to the subject of cotton cultivation in India ; and once more we bear, as on many former occa sions, innumerable expressions of regret at the apathy which the people of Eng land have displayed with regard to all the various modes proposed, from time to time, for making us less dependent on America for the raw material of our staple manu facture. Little more than half a century ago, we imported about as much cotton from our own colonies in the West Indies as we did from the United States. During the first half of 1848 and 1549 our imports from these countries respectively have been as follow: IS4S. 1849. United States, bales 575.367 1,170,132 West Indies, bales 2,356 2,199 Less than thirty years ago our imports of West India cotton were equal lo oue tentli of what we received from America, but since that period they have very rap idly decreased. Year after year have the receipts from our own colonies dwindled away, while the quantity imported from the United States has been increasiiwfcat such a rate as to render us almost entirely dependent upon them for supplying Lan cashire with the chief material required for its industry. Comparing the progress of the woollen trade, during the last thirty I years, with that of the cotton manufacture, as regards their dependence upon the im portation of the raw material employed in both, one cannot help remaking the singu lar change which has been going on in each of these two great branches of indus try. In 1522, our woollen manufacturers de pended chiefly upon Germany and Spain for the large quantities of foreign wool they required in the manufacture of cloth. At that time the whole of our im ports from our own colonies did not a mount probably to more than 200,000 lbs. a year. In 1818, out of 02,103,000 lbs. of foreign wool consumed in Great Britain, nearly 40,000,000 lbs. have been import ed from the following British colonies : lbs. New South Wales, 22,091,481 East India, 5,997,435 Van Diemen’s Land, 4,955,968 Cape of Good Hope, &c., 3,497,250 South Australia, 2,762,072 West Australia, 129,295 New Zealand, 95,151 Total, 39,529,252 In 1820, out of 151,572,000 lbs. of cot ton wool imported into Great Britain, 59,- 999,000 lbs. were from the United States. Last year, out of about 710,000,000 lbs. imported, not less than 640,000.000 lbs. noarly seven-eighths of the whole quantity consumed, must have been from theUni ed States. Had the increased production of cotton wool in our own colonies since 1820 been going on at the same rate as that of sheep’s wool has been, we should now have been importing only about SOO,- 000 hales from America, in addition to 1,- 200,000 hales from the East Indies, Aus tralia, Port Natal, and other colonies fa vorable to its cultivation. But it is useless to repine over what might have been. The only task that is left for us now is to improve the opportu nities which still lie before us. In look ing" over the table of imports of cotton from 1520 to 1848, we find that in 1841 \vs imported no less than 100,104,510 lbs. from East India, which is considerably more than the whole of our average annu al import from the United States, in the five years ending in 1824. But in 1848 our receipts of American cotton were near ly double what they had been in 1841, while those from East India had sunk to less than one-half of what they were seveti years ago ; and how easily it might have been otherwise % Had the East India Company merely spent one-fifth of their enormous revenue during those seven years in the construction of railways and other works for facilitating the transit of goods, we might at this moment be receiv ing from Bombay one-third of all the cot ton we consume ; in which case, not to speak of the greatly improved demand which would thereby have been created for the twist and calicoes of Lancashire, we should have felt comparatively easy as to the probable estimate of the American cotton crop of 1849. Now that the rail way system is about to he introduced into our Indian empire, it remains to be seen whether the Court of Directors will so be stir themselves in promoting its rapid de velopement, as to give them something more of a claim upon the legislature for the renewal of their expiring charter, than they could venture to urge at present.— Manchester Examiner. E3PThe Ringgold Republican of the 291 h ult. says : “ The Locomotive, with open cars, arrived at this place oil Satur day last. The work is progressing with a rapidity far surpassing public expecta tion.” MACON, G A . SATURDAY MORNING, OCT. 6, 1849. BEK«TjUL The “SOUTHERN MUSEUM” Of fice has been removed to the two story Wooden Building, at the Corner of Fifth and Walnut Streets, where we are prepar ed to execute all orders in the Printing line with neatness and dispatch. OC/" Our readers will bear in mind that the Rev. W. It. Branham will deliver his address before the Sons of Temperance on Monday evening next. The Grand Division, Sons gs Temperance, will meet in this city on the 24th inst. The Mass Meeting of the same Order will assemble at the same time.— The reports from various sections of the Stale justify the belief that several thous and persons will be present on the occa sion of the presentation of the Prize Ban ner. The Greene Countv Murder. —The young man, aged about 18 years, who murdered his step-father in Greene coun ty some time ago, was sentenced to im prisonment for life at hard labor in the Penitentiary, at the last term of Greene Superior Court. The beautiful address of Jude Meriwether, before pronouncing the sentence, will be found in our columns to-day. The Election. We have not had time to arrange all the returns received for this issue—enough however has been received to warrant the belief that Gov. Towns has beaten his op ponent Judge Hill, 2500 votes. The Democrates have gained 12 Representa tives and 5 Senators—l 7. The Whigs have gained 10 in the House and 3 in the Seuate—l3, when compared with the last Legislature, when they had 7 majority.— This result gives the Democrats a proba ble majority in the Senate of 1 or 2, and 2 or 3 in the House—or 4 or 5 on joint ballot. The following is the official vote for 8188 COUNTY: City. Hazzard's. Rutland's IVarrior. Total GOVERNOR : Towns, (D.) 540 24 87 83 734 Hill, (W.) 486 56 65 27 634 SENATOR: Napier,*(D.)ss3 50 70 49 722 Bailey, (D.) 315 IS 68 48 479 house : Nisbet, (W.) 517 55 75 26 674 Fish, (D.) 479 17 76 67 639 Bivins, (W.) 434 57 71 37 599 Cook, (D ) 405 17 66 G 8 556 *Mr. Napier ran as an independent Democratic candidate, against the regular nominee. CHATHAM COUNTY: GOVERNOR: G. W. TOWNS, 756 E. Y. HILL, 666 SENATOR : THOMAS PURSE, (D.) 756 WILLIAM LAW, (W.) 650 REPRESENTATIVES: JOHN W. ANDERSON, (D.) 75a GEO. P. HARRISON, (D.) 733 F. S. BARTOW, (W.) GG4 R. R. CUYLER, (W.) 650 ICU’The Hibernia has arrived bringing Liverpool dates to Sept. 22. There had been no change in the cotton market for the week previous. The Hibernia left New York for Liverpool on Saturday last with a mail and nineteen passengers —a- mong whom were two gentlemen with despatches, one for France, and tlie other for Switzerland. Waynesboro’ Road. —A meeting of the citizens of Augusta will take place this afternoon to take into consideration the communication from the citizens of Savannah, inviting co-operation in the con struction of a Railroad connecting Augusta with Savannah. UP 3 A lot of 32 bales of new colton was sold in Savannah on the 2d inst. at 11 cents. Sad Accident. —The Muscogee Dem ocrat of the 4th inst. says : “On Monday last, one of the Stage Drivers, on the route from this place to Barnesville, was in stantly crushed to death by the upsetting of the stage he was driving, he being thrown under the falling vehicle at the moment of the accident. The name of tlie unfortunate man was Cooper, and was recently from Ohio. One of the lady pas sengers, Mrs. Mitchell, of Montgomery county, Ala., was considerably injured by tlie upsetting of the Stage, not, we hope, dangerously.” |O r ”P- C. Guieu, Esq., far several years editor of the Constitutionalist, recently died at Augusta. New Inventions. A London letter of 31st August, publish ed in the N. Y. Commercial Advertiser has the following items : A valuable invention lias been made in Belgium. It is destined to effect as great a reform in the manufacture of linen clothes as the steam loom has made in that of woollens. It is nothing less than a steam loom for linen fabrics. All the ingenuity and perseverance of manufactu rers have been tested to invent a machine of this kind; but the fabrics have been uni formly so poor that the machines have been thrown away and manual labor again resorted to. The difficulty lias been re moved by the scientific skill of a Belgian engineer. A model of his machine, with specimens, of his fabrics, has been exhibi ted at the fair at Ghent. The clothes are said to rival in firmnes, fineness and smooth ness the best of those made by hand. If, on farther trial, it shall be found practica ble on alarge scale, a revolution will doubt less be effected in the linen industry of Belgium, which will have a powerful influ ence on the political conditions of the counlry, one half of the peculation of Flan, ders living, in one way or another, on the profits of that industry. A late improvement in the musket will certainly meliorate greatly the art of war. This lias been made in Prussia, and the secret is strictly guarded by the Govern ment. Nobody is permitted to examine the work in the manufactories, and the soldiers are forbidden to show tbeir mus kets. But these precautions are all use less ; the improvement will be certainly known and adopted by other countries Captain Stone, of the Amcaican army, now in Sweden, is, I believe, in possession of the secret. The United States offered to sell to Mexico her flint lock guns ; she will soon he able, I hope, to sell percussion ones. From what I have seen of the new gun, as well as from what I have heard, I ccn say a few words to satisfy in part the curiosity of our officers and gun makers. The musket has no lock and is loaded at the stock end of the barrel. The ball is long and cone shaped, rounded at the big end. The barrel is slightly rifled, hut the grooves rre perfect ly straight and not spiral as in the Ameri can gun. The hall is consequently thrown a much greater distance, none of the force of the powder being wasted in giving it a useless rotary motion. The common charge is one half of that used in the per cussion gun, and is said to carry the ball to its mark nine hundred yards. None of ilie powder is wasted, the fire being corn municated from the side of the barrel and not from the breech. This is effected by an ingenious contrivance. The part of the cartridge next the ball is filled with an explosive substance simular to that in a percussion cap. This is made lo ex plode by the contact of a piece of sieel about the length of an eight penny nail, which passes from the outside of the bar rel through the cartridge. The gun is call ed the “nail firer.” It can be discharged by a common soldier eight times in a min ute and need not he taken from the shoul der to be reloaded. The best soldier cannot discharge the percussion gun more than 3 or 4 times in a minute, and in battle an officer cannot count on more than one discharge in that time. Another advantage of tlie Pruss ian gun is that the distance to which it car ries enables a force to fire some twenty five or thirty times, before an enemy, ar med with the percussion musket, can get within shooting distance. The efficacy of the Prussian troops is thus doubled. The Prussian anmy might be reduced to half its present numbers, to the great delight of every body except the monarch and his immediate advisers. Frost.— The Pendleton Messenger says “Wc had slight frosts on last Monday and Tuesday mornings in this neighborhood, which did no injury to the crops. The Cotton and Pea crops, however, have been cut very short by the dry weather, which has lasted neatly two months.” Despatch from Gen. Twiggs.—We copy the following important information from the Tallahassee Sentinel, of the 2d inst. lleao Quarters. Western Division,) Tampa Bay, Fla., Sept. 22, 1549. ) Sir —l have the honor to inform you that on the 18th inst. I had an interview wi h the Chiefs of the Florida Indians a* Charlotte’s Harbor. They disclaim f° r the nation all disposition unfriendly to the whites—say the recent outrages were un known to the nation—and were pertrated by a few outlaws, who deserved punish ment, and who will lie surrendered to oar justice sometime in the course of the com ing month. Under these circumstances, I entcr'a* n the hope that security and confidence wifi soon he secured to the ciiizens. 1 sin sir, respectfully, your oh’t set v t, D. E. TWIGCS.