Southern miscellany. (Madison, Ga.) 1842-1849, October 28, 1843, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

something in the agony of spirit with which she prayed—a self devotion so touchingly holy, that even the man of business was moved to compassion. She saw it in his face, am) falling at his feet gathered both his hands between hers covered them with tears and murmured such words of-gratitude u* no human being could have resisted. *• Be it so,” he said at length, and for the first time in twenty years the man of wealth felt that his voice shook, while he could scarcely see the pale, joyful features uplift ed et his words, from the mist that had crept over his eyes. “Be it so, hut when his debts ate paid where will you go 1 how live r “ Where he goes there will I he, and where he dies there will i be buried.” Her face was like that of an angel’s ns she then adopted the most beautiful poetiy of love. The banker laid his hand on kr bead and murmured, “ Poor child—poor ahihl—bow unworthy is he of such love.” ** Not unworthy ! oh, not unworthy!” said the wife pleadingly, “he will redeem the past now—l am sure he will.” The banker shook his head, but arose and supporting that feeble creature with his arm they entered a carriage together. ‘‘Joy, joy, my husband! You are free ngain, free and not so very destitute—look here!” Lucy had a thousand pound n*te in her hand, but she trembled so from head to foot that when she held it towards her astonished bushand it fell fluttering to the stone flags. He did not pick it up then, for a dearer burden lay against his heart—his wife—his own true wife—who wept upon hi* i>som as she had never wept before in her whole •existence. A gallant’ship with outspread sails was careering on the Atlantic, many a dim eye turned sadly toward the horizon where the British Isle had last appeared. “Itis gone,” said Burke, turning away that no one might witness his anguish, “we have no longer a home.” ” But we are together,” whispered his wife, nestling her hand into bis, “we are to gether.” A slight cough interrupted her speech, and when it had went away there was a fe ver spot burning redly on her cheek. The husband saw it and his lip quivered. “This air blows chilly from the water, let us go down,” he said, and with his arm supporting her waist and wife Went into the cabin together. Another lapse of time. The husband and wife were in a foreign city with strange faces all around them. They had taken rooms at a hotel, hut the tramp of so many feet, the noise and hustle irritated the inva lid and frightened sleep from her pillow. “Oh that we could he alone,” she mur mured turning {languidly in her ensy-chair with the restlessness of disease. If I were quite alone with you, Thomas, with no hu man face to look at me save yours, this fe — vve'hiust ne aiHnc, tuts nmsc renders you worse every day. Try to rest a little till I come hack again.” “ I knew he would reform ; how good lie is, how happy we shall he,” murmured the invalid. As she closed her eyes a tear struggled through their lashes, hut it was born of happy feelings and she slept afier. Burke went out to a reading-room and found the advertisement that besought fir, “A house to let ready furnished in a retired part of the city.” That r.ight Lucy was re moved to luer new home. The repose and stillness fell refreshingly on her while she was supported to her chamber prepared for her reception, and she smiled as they laid her on the snowy bed, hut there was some thing in her face that startled the husband, a chill cameon him and he turned away to weep. “ Why do you look so sorrowful,” said the invalid smiling once more. “I am bet ter now everything is so quiet—to-morrow, next day perhaps, l shall he much better, it is only fatigue, you know,” her eyes closed as she spoke, anil that wretched man heard n sound in her bieath that chilled him to the heait. He sunk upon his knees and the lied shook beneath the violence of his grief. That night Thomas talked wildly to his wife as she lay soslill upon her couch ; hut ■he gave him no answer, though the voice of bis agony mighthave kindled a stone to com passion. She breathed not—the pillow on which her cold cheek rested had neither wrinkle nor fold in its snow-white cover.— The winding sheet that fell over her lay motionless, like folds of marble around a statue. When he arose in his agony of re pentance and pressed his quivering mouth to her Ups they chilled him to the heart, and he felt fortlie first time that she was dead, for ‘‘it was the first cold kiss she hud ever given him,” T Ini H Ini ym@& Q© T a Showing Off! —“ My dear Mr. Dressme off,” said a lady who had more pride than brains, “do let Bill the carriage diiver, gear up the horses and drive our fine carriage up and down the streets, to-day V’ “ What for, wife ?” “Oh, merely to show if, Mr. Dressmeoff —to let folks know that we have a cuiriage —that we uro therefore not common, hut stylish and grand as any body—do, now ! Mr. Dressy—” “ My dear Mrs. Dressmeoff, 1 feel hap py in yielding my assent to all your wishes —Bill hitch the horses to our carriage and drive all about town—” I ‘‘And Bill,” said Mrs. D. interrupt ingly, , “make the horses prance —make them fairly fly, when you pass by Mr. and Mrs. Sucli-u ----one’s. (Ashle.J Who would he common folks t” That fine carriage ! we are now among the ‘quality,’ and it wont do for me so have anything to do with any body who hn’t a carriage—hey ! there goes the car- j ri&ge ! ah me ! but how people will eye it! ■fid what will Mis. Rieketyskticket think when she sees it—guess she’ll conclude that there’s mure quality in town than herself-—” [Enter servant—-in gieat haste, with eyes (wo feet apart and ready to leap from their sockets] ” I<ord ha* ma’cy, mis us ! bosses run away and broke de carriage all to smash ! one gentlman say it neber he mended in de world—” Mis. D. ‘‘The carriage broke! good gracious ! we’re undone—oh ! I shall faint! we’re now cut off from respectable society!” Reader, the funny part of the above lies in these two litiie words, to wit: it's true! — Milton Chronicle. The Quaker's letter to his Watchmaker. — 1 herewith send thee my pocket clock, which standeth greatly in need of thy friendly cor rection. The last time that he was at thy friendly school, lie was not in the least de gree reformed or benefited thereby, for I perceive by the index of his mind that he is a liar, and that the truth is not in him. His mq.tions are wavering and irregular, his pulse is sometimes quick —betokeneth not an even temper; at times he waxeth sluggish. Al though 1 frequently tell him that lie should he on his duty, as thou knowest his name denoteth, 1 find him slumbering and sleepy ; or, as the vani'y of human reason phrases it, 1 catch him napping—hence I am induced to believe he is not yet right in the inward man ; cleanse him, therefore, thoroughly, 1 pray thee, with thy charming physic, from all pollution, that be may vibrate and circu late according to truth. 1 will leave him a few days under thy friendly charge and will pay for his boaid as thou requirest it. I en treat thee, friend John, to demean thyself on this occasion with a right judgment, ac cording to the skill that is within thee, and prove thyself a workman that need not lie ashamed of his work ; and when thou lay est thy correcting hand on him, let it he without passion, lest thou drive him to des truction. Do thou regulate and govern his motion for the time to come by the motion of the light that ruleth the day, and when thou findest him corrected from the error of his ways, and more conformable to the abovementioned rules, do thou send him with a just hill of charges drawn out in tire spirit of moderation. A good story. —A capital story is told of Judge Tappan, a Senator in Congress, who is unfortunately cross eyed. A number of years ago he was judge of a newly organ ized county Court, in the eastern part of Ohio. In those tfStys of primitive simplicity, or perhaps poverty, the bar-room of a tav ern was used as a Court room, and ilie sta ble as a jail. One day, during the session of the Court, the Judge had occasion to se verely reprimand two of the lawyers, who were wrangling. An odd looking old cus tomer, who sat iti one corner listening ap parently with great satisfaction to the re proof, and presuming on old acquaintance and the .lodge’s well known good humor, sung out, “Give it to’em, old gimhlet ejes!” “ Who was that?” inquired the.Tudse. “It was this Vre old boss,” answered the chap, raising himself up. “Sheriff,” observed the Judge, with great gravity, “take that old hoss and put him in the stable!” Conclusive Argument. — Soon after the fie generally C 'iTn7reFsfonA. an oh! r*orinerfi ruf farmer went to his parson with the fol lowing inquiry:— “ Dorter T. do you believe in this new story they tell of the artlis moving around the sun ?” “ Yes Certainly.” “Do you think it is according to set iptur! If it's true how could Joshua have com manded the sun to stand still ?” “ Umpli ?” qothe the doctor, not a whit puzzled. ‘• Joshua commanded the sun to stand still did he 1” “ Yes.” “ Well.it stood still, did it not 1” “ Yes.” “ Very well. Now, did you ever hear that he set it a going ngain !” A Home Thrust. —The Rev. Rowland Hill was celebrated for his talents, his bold ness, bis piety, and b s conscientiousness He would never suppress his feelings, nr modify his language, through fear of giving offence, and was never known to omit an opportunity of illustrating a sentiment, or administering a deserved reproof, however embarrassing it might happen to there pres ent. It is related of this good, hut eccentric preacher, that on one occasion when speak ing of the sin attendant on dress, and coti fbrmiiy to nil the fashionable fooleries of the day, lie observed - “ I am well aware many of you are rea dy to say—• Mr. Hill, look ri home, look at your own wife.’ It is nil true, look at her There she is and then applying himself to her, in the presence of the con gregation, he said with astonishing effect. “ You know, Mrs. Hill, I have often point ed out to you the sin and folly of pursuing extravagance, when you roidd relieve so many of your fellow creatures, in place of wasting your money in this way.” Vandalism. —“ Visitors are requested not to stand upon the seats,” is the notice we find at the bottom of the bills of one of our principal places of amusement. We ex pect to sec a notice running “Visitors are requested to abstain from standing on their heads during the performance!” This! would bo quite as consistent. No decent person would for a moment entertain an idea of standing “ on the seats,” and an in- 1 decent, i. e. a vulgar individual, would pay hut little attention to a piece of advice gra tis of that kind. “ Gentlemen are respect fully requested not to spit in each other’s hats,” is a notice painted in large chatacters on the walls of a hat-room belonging to a fashionable ball-room of this city. “Gen tlemen are respectfully requested to abstain from whittling the chairs, tallies and mantle cornices,” looks down upon the traveller from the sitting room of a first class hotel in the city of Hartford. All these things are ; ridiculously conceived. It would he as well to placard the request. “ Persons ate re- I quested to be honest” among thieves. jf j people intend to do right they will do so ! without notice or request; if they don’t tlu-y won't, all ilie reques's lo the eountrury J not withstanding. But it is a sorrowful re flection that Vandalism prevails among our j own people to such an extent—that they will stand “ upon the seats” in theatres ; will “spit in each other’s hats (practical mus (B :l iL ii q joking, undoubtedly) will carve their names on “ tables, and chairs, and cornices” vs lin tels ; will steal where they can ; (some of them) will perpetrate numerous funnyisms which have to he remonstrated against in the public prints and on the dead walls and alley entrances. Oh ! ah I W lint a world is this !— Noah's Weekly Messenger. i OS©[ILIL^MY. Tradeoff the Coosa Valley—lts Impor tance to the Western and. Atlantic Rtil.-road. —The capital expended upon twenty-two railways in England, comprising, most of all that are in the kingdom, is .£47,917,637, or counting the at 84 50—8280.001,659. — The yearly receipts ate about c£1,826,202 j or $11,660,760, or an average of about 5 per cent on the whole capita’. The num ber of miles worked were 1.250 J which gives the very large average of $140,446 of capital expended per ml.'. It seems scarce ly creditable that a profit could he returned upon such an enormous outlay aa this ; yet, in truth we find, that an increase cqttal to a yearly interest of 5 per cent is yielded.— We do not recollect the average cost, of the tail-ways in the United States, but it is a sum fir less than those in England, and the yearly receipts, by an estimate made sever al years since, avetaged 6 pet cent upon the whole capital invested. These facts sufficiently refute the very erroneous im- j pression prevalent among those who give j the subject no investigation, that rail-roads ate never profitable. In the excessive zetd for such enterprises which prevailed through out our country several years since, muc h extravagance was committed, and many premature roads commenced. Still it is satisfactory lo know that considered as a whole, they have been eminently successful both at home and abroad. ‘J hose in our own State are not sufficiently completed to show what they are capable of performing, or yielding. But the last yearly returns show a large increase of business, and cor responding income. It cannot reasonably he evpected that in their unfinished condi tion dividends can be returned to the Stock- i holdcis. But when the period of their com pletion arrives this result w ill he attained.— j Great animal ion and spirit now pervades i the directories of all out rail-ton ds, and if a j corresponding feeling should actuate the Legislature to push forward with vigor the State road, the success of our Internal Im provement system in the ensuing twelve j months, will restore confidence in such un I dertakings. and place them in such an esti- j mation with ti e people as they deserve.— j We would here point out the importance of i a continuation of the State Road at least to | i the junction of the Memphis Binnch imrne- I diately. The present Te> minus is now only j Ili miles distant fiotn this point. Hie gta- j ding is entirely completi and and therein only j needed nil appropriation for the snpeistruc- j title and iron. A few words will suffice to explain the importance of this connection. The Memphis Branch Rad-mad is only 17jf .'fWttKtWW dKWMiWBi W. great expedition if all doubts of the contin uation of the State Road is removed. Be low Rome the Coosa river is navigable 160 miles. Thus the extension of the State Road 11 miles farther will bring into use 180 miles of additional steam communica tion. And in connection with the Georgia and Charleston, or Monroe and Central Rail-roads would form a continuous lire of rt il-wny and Steam Boat navigation of about 550 miles, extending into the heait of Ala bama and vv'thin 20 miles of the Tennessee river. The value of the country bordering on, or convenient to the Coosa river, we ap prehend has never been sufficiently estima ted. We gather the following farts front the Census tables of 1840. Os course each reader can set his own estimate upon the correctness of the results there obtained. We think them sufficiently certain for our purpose. Taking the Counties of Blotinf, Benton, Cherokee, DeKalb, Jackson, Mar shall, Madison, Morgan, Randolph, St. Clair and Talladega ; all of which, (though by no j means the number that we anticipate will j travel across our lines of Internal Improve ment) even now trade via Madison (Ga.) we find that tlie population in 1840 was Population, 116,555 ! Number Horses and Mules, : ; 35.835 “ Neat Cattle, : : : : 150.288 ” Sheep, :::::: 45,447 ” Swine,: : : : : : 441.213 “ Bushels of Wheat, : : 353,194 “ “ of Oats, : : : 435.353 ” “ of Corn, ; : 6,907.140; Pounds of Wool, : : 84,538 “ “ of Cotton : 29,912,375 “ Retail dry goods and other Stores, 138 Capital invested in the above 8509,575 Capital invested in Manufactures, 255.734 The above results are very satisfactory, and prove that the trade of the Coosa Riv er is well worth seeking, but they are not to he taken as the limit of the capacity of the country. Two thirds of this section is fresh, and new. Its productive capacity is not half developed, and its mineral beds just beginning to lie explored. The Land Oflice was opened only this year itt the Cherokee counties, and already do we set! | a rapid change in the character of the in habitants and the permanency of their ini- j provemeuts. They are just emerging from j the difficulties attendant upon opening a now country, atid are only now beginning j to produce more than is required for home j consumption. They ate secluded, and mm- ! kets are difficult of access to them. But ! opeti an outlet by the rail-roads now in coir- j temptation ftom Rometo the Sea hoard and : their progress will he rapid, and this sec tion so fresh and wild will leap quickly into anew life. It will soon develops its whole resources and will become wealthy and de sirable us it is now one of the most beauti ful parts of the State of Alabama. After well considering the above facts and reflections, if any can be found who would refuse to grant the appropriation to continue tire superstructure and iron of the State Road only 114 miles further to the 1 intersection of the Memphis Branch Rail Road, they must, we Brink, be governed by | the most illiberal prejudices against the whole system of Internal Improvement.— But ve anticipate nothing of the kind.— The importance of the valley of the Coosa river will he freely conceded, and the Le gislature about tn meet will he enlightened enough to appreciate its value in connection with the State improvements, and liberal enough to appropriate the means necessaty to carry the extension into effect. The rery Last Duel of All —Juno Mungo nnd Thenphilus Boon, two strapping ne groes, undertook yesteiday afternoon, to settle an affair of honor in the fashionable way. by a resort to the duello. Boon was the challenger, nnd of course Mungo had a prescriptive right to choice of weapons. Being of the corner’s opinion that there is nothing like leather, he chose cowhides. — The parties met with their seconds in an open lot near the junction of Broad nnd South streets. Boon’s second objected to Mungo's pants which were made of thick kersey, and moreover were plated or patch ed in a way that made them as obdurate as ■ rhinoceros; whereas Boon’s infeiior per son was covered merely with a thin pair of i i drilling*. As it was found impossible to re duce the two antagonists to equal terms by setting another pair of pants to match either Boon’s or Mungo’s, one of the seconds sug gested that they should fight sons rul/ofttsl a proposition which met with immediate favor, and both chivahic gentlemen slrp p and for the contest. At the concerted sig | nal, the fight commenced, and it was fearful i to see bow the instruments of flagellation were plied by both combatants. Boon keeps a school for young gentlemen of col or; Mungo is ■drayman; both were vet 8- ed in the flogging business, therefore, and made every stroke tell. Twenty or thiity lashes were given on each side, when Mun go laid in such a scorcher that Boon could stand it no longer, but ingloriously fled, the victor hard after him. Three times they cir cled the lot like Hector and Achilles around the walls of Troy, when the vanquished Boon jumped the fence and flew at full speed down broad street towards the city, } the conqueror close at his heels plying the ! lash most industriously. Two such appa | rttiors in such an ungraceful dial abille, nat j urally attracted much notice, and finally a | police officer took the further settlement of the dispute into his own hands, stopped both fugative and pwtsuer, made them le tnrn to the field of battle, resume their un | mentionnldes, and then conducted them to J a place where much hot blood is regularly I cooled down. On hearing the statement of ; the facts, this morning, the Mayor ordered ! the duelists to find hail for their betlei be | havior. Nevertheless, their selection of j weapons will fmnish a good hint to other j brave youths who have a serious quarrel to | dispose of,— Dhil. Mercury. “Women in the North. The Boston seem j stresses held anothet meeting on Tuesday J afternoon. From facts state dat tie meet i ing, it was rlc-arlv eslublisl <d. sa's the I‘ost. mat, generally, “Ttrese Women have lad to work from 1G to IS hours to earn twenty I cents, and that they did not average 15 cents a day. tal ing a weak through although they worked from morning till bed lime, without attending to anything elsr— Listen ] oner. Here is a state of social slavery, by which hundreds and thousands of our fair country women are annually hurried to a premature grave, attracting neither sympathy nor re lief from the false nne vicious philanthropy which flourishes so lankly amongst our Northern hiethem. African slavery iri the South, so far as health and labor is concern ed, is a blessing compared to it. Miut up all winter, in narrow rooms, a half dozen gathered around a small stove, with bent shoulders and pale sac es,-these sisters of om rare, from morning until night, ply their ex hausting toil. Instead of the free tread and | r.oble bloom, whic h is the frightful inlieti ! tame of the- daughters of New England, look at the poor creature, as she slams to the door, and gathering her worn cloak around her, stoops her thin form to the blast. : She coughs as she passes. The keen air j has pierced into her lungs, and the spring ! flowers will blossom over her grave! Poor woman ! in harhatism or in rivili ’ zation, thou art like a victim or a slave! In ; the former man is thy master : in the latter, i society, with its gnilded inequalities and crushing destitut cm, leaves thee no alterna tive hut to suffer or die. Weak thing of sensibility, and purity and love! thv very excellencies and virtues shall bring thee no compassion, no relief; hut only hasten thee on, by its smothered yearnings, to the only true resting place of all who ‘'labor and ate heavy laden”—the bosom cifoiii God. He careth for thee, although the cold winds or coldet chanties of an unfeeling wold sweep over thy desolate and unprotected breast. In Him is pity, and with Him is peace. — Washington Spectator. A Nolle Dog. —A Halifax paper states that a child was playing with a Newfound land dog, on Roach’s wharf, (Halifax.) a short time since, and by some accident, I slipped over the end of the whaif into the | water. The dog immediately sprung afier j the child (who was only six years old) and I seizing the waist of his little frock, brought him into the clock, where there was a stage, i and hv which the child held on, hut wais tin i able to get on top. The dog seeing that it 1 was unable to pull the little fellow out of the water, ran up to a yard adjoining, and where a little girl of nine years of age was i spreading out clothes. He seized the girl by her frock, and not withstanding hei exer tions to get away, he succeeded in diagging her to the spot, vvheie the child was still hanging by the hands to the stage. On the giiTstuking hold of the child, the dog assisted her in rescuing the little fellow from his perilous situation, and after licking the fare of the infant that it had ‘hits saved, it took a leap ofF the stage, and swam round to the end of the wharf, and immediately after re turned with his hat in his mouth. It is said that the father of the child—to whom the dog belongs—when leaving the country where he formerly resided, rescued it from the hands of some persons, who were about to execute the poor animal, fin killing a sheep. DO NOT DESPAIR. BV S. 0 PATIEFSOX. Do not despair. Tliongli round ibec sorrows gather, And nnanish pierces wi.h its poisonous sting— Kcme niter tlion, that storms and wintry weather Are but the prelude* to a glorious spring. Do not despair. Thou ‘st seen the sunbeam o'er thee Dispel the darkness of the tempest * g own” Thus, ihoueh life's pilgrimage be sad before thee, Faith will illume and guide thy fuO'steps home ! m \ Washington at the Communion. — While the American army, under the command of ! Washington, lay encamped in the environs , of Morristown. N. J.. it occurred that the service of the communion (there observed simi-annually only) was to he administered in the Presbyterian Church of that villiage. Ori a morning of the previous W'eek, t he Gen eral after his accustomed inspection oft he camp, visited the house of the Rev. Dr. i Jones, then pastor of that church, and after the usual perliminnries, thus accosted him ; “ Doctor, T understand that the Lord’s sup per is to he celebrated with you next Sun day; I would learn if it accords with the canons of your chuich to admit communi cants of another denomination !” The Doctor rejoined, “ Most certainly ; ours is not the Pieshyterian table, General, hut the lords table; and we hence give the Lord’s invit alien to all his followers of what ever name.” The General replied, “1 am glad of it ; that is as it ought to he; hut as 1 was not quite sure of the fart, 1 thought 1 would asceitaiu it fiom yourself, as I pro pose to join with you on that occasion. Though a member of the Church of Eng land, 1 have no evclnsive partialities.” The Doctor re assured him of a cotdial welcome, and the General was found seated with the communicants the next Sabbath. A Good Daughter. —A good daughter ! there are other ministers of love more ren spirions, hut none in which a gentler, love lier spiret dwells, nnd none to which the heart’s warm requitals more joyfully res pond. There i> no such thing as compar ative estimate of a parent’s love for one or another child. There is little v\ hich he need to covet, to whom the tieasure of a good child has been given. But n son’s occupa tions carry him abroad, and he resides more among temptations, which hardly permit the affection that is following him. perhaps over half the globe, to he wholly unmingled with anxiety, until the time when he comes to relinquish the shelter of his father’s roof for one of his own ; while a good daughter is the steady light of her paren’ts house. Her idea is indissolubly connerti and with that ot his happy fireside. She is his morning sun light and his evening star. The gtaee and vivacity and tenderness of her sex have their place in the mighty sway which she holds over his spirit. The lesson of recorded wisdom which he leads with her eyes, conies to his mind with new ehnims blen ded with the beloved melody of her voice. He scarcely knows wen tineas w hich her.song does not make him fm get, or gloom which is pri m TrgamsT me young brightness of her smile. She is the pride and oi namerit ofliis hospitality, and the gentle nurse of his siek ness, and the constant agent of ihose mini hei less ads of kindness, w l.ich one chiefly cares to have remit red because they are mi | relending, but expressive proofs of love.— And then what acheerful sharer she i-, | and what an able lightner of her mother’s j cares ! What an evet-present delight and ! triumph to a mother’s affections ! Oh how I littlt- do those daughters know of the pow er which God has committed to them, and the happiness God would have them to en joy, who do not every time that a parent's eye rests upon them, bring rapture to a pa leut’s heart ! A true love will almost cer tainly always greet their approaching foot steps ‘i hat they will hardly allicnate.— But their ambition should he, not to have it a love merely, which feelings irnp a ted by nature excite, hut one made intense and oveiflowing, by approbation of worthy con duct; and she is stiange’y blind to her own happiness, as well as uudulifiil, in whom ti e perpetual appeals of parental disinter estedness do not call fiiitli the prompt and full echo of filial devotion. Influence of Women. —ls men hold the po litical power of society, women have main ly in their hands more iinpoitunt moiul pow er. There cannot he a moral community where limy are licentious ; there cannot he a lefined society where they are neglected and ignorant. Upon them depend the ear liest education and first impression of their children. They tegulate.or matetially in fluence. the principles, opinions and man ners of their husbands and their sons. Thus the sound and healthful state of society de pends on them. It is a remarkable histor ical fact, that the wife of Oliver Cromwell endeavored to recall the exiled king, and that all his children save one were moral. We must believe they derived their feel ings and opinions from their mother. Al fred, one of the most extraordinary men of any age, who rescued his country from her enemies by his courage, and by his wisdom and energy raised her from extreme barbar ism to a high degree of civilization, in his youth was given to idleness and pleasure. His mother roused in him the • mbition and virtue that has made him the admiration of mankind for a thousand years. Napoleon said that to the manner in wnieli his mother formed him at an early age he principally owed his subsequent elevation. It was his opinion that the future good or had conduct of n child depends upon the mother. Mothers, while you are proud of this dis tinction, remember the responsibility it im poses on you. Be wot thy of it.— Judge Ilopkinson. Summary. —Mr. Drake, in a late essay, says there are thiee reasons why theie are few old physicians in the South, The first is, beacause many die young ; 2d. many go to cotton planting ; 3d, nearly all the bal ance many rich widows. The Boston Dost adds; It is uiiceitain how Jong the first will continue; the second depends upon the price of cotton ; hut the third is ot a per manent character. And we ask if it is per manent because the life of the husband is in the hands of the physician. Marriage. — Marriage is to a woman at once the happiest, slid saddest event of her life ; it is the promise of future bliss, raised on the death of all present enjoyment. She quits her home,her parents, herorcupations her amusements, every thing on which she has hitherto depended for comfort, for af fection, for kindness, for pleasure. The parents by whose advice site has been n Q j ded-—the sisters to whom she had dared to impart the every embryo thought and feel ing—the brother who has played with her by f urns the counsellor and the counselled and the younger children, to whom she has been the mother and the playmate all to he forsaken at one fell stroke ; the spring of every hope and action is to he changed • and yet she flies with joy into the untrodden path before her. Buoyed up by the confi dence of requited love, she bids a fond and grateful adieu to the life that j s past, and turns with excited hopes and joyous antici pation to the happiness income. Then wn to the man who can blight such fair hopes who can treacherously lure such a lieait from its peaceful enjoyment, and the wind - ful protection of home—who can, coward like, break the illusions that have won her. and destroy the confidence which love had inspired. Wo to him who has too early withdrawn the tender plant from the props and stay of deripline in which she has been nurtured, and yet make no effort to supply their place, for on him he the responsibility of her errors—on him who has first taught her. by his example, to grow earless of her duty. • nd then expos’ and her, with a weakc ed spirit and unsatisfied heart, to the wide storms and wily temptationsof a sinful world. A Gem. —Give us such hoys as have been blessed with the instructions of a pious mo ther. It is a qualification for which no sub stitute can he found on eaith. Never would vve despair of the ch Id who has been used, in his infancy, to hear the prerepts of hea venly truth inculcated in the accents of ma ternal love. Truths thus distilled livefot ever in the memory. They are interwoven with all the sensibilities of the soul. They are the fortress of conscience, not impreg nable, it is t rnp, hut indestructible. They furnish the mind with chords which, in af ter life, seldom fail to vibrate to the touch of faithful expostulation. They are inex tinguishable sparks, which being seem ugly smothered under a heap of corruption, mnv he fanned by the breath offriendh and spir itual counsel into the pure and genial flame of piety. Temper. —No trait of character is more valuable in a female than the possession of a sweet temper. Home ran never he made happy without it. It is like the flower* that spring up in the pathway, leviving and cheering us. Let a man go home at night, wearied and worn by the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word dictated by a good disposition : It is sunshine falling up on his heart. He is happy and the cates of life are forgotten. A sweet temper has a soutlinin’ influence over the mind* of ihe whole .family. Where it is found in the wife nnd mother, you observe kindness nnd love predominating over the had feelings of the natural heart. Smiles, kind looks char acterize the children, nnd peace and love h ve their dwelling there. Study then to acquire and retain a sweet temper. It is more valuable than gold; it captivates mote tbn n beauty, and at the close of life retains all its freshness and power. The First Sword. —Many of our readers have perhaps seen the annexed anecdote, hut it is good enough to read a second time. It was told at a 4th of July celebration at Providence, R, L, by the Hon. Mr. Tillio glinst, a member of Congress from that Sf&te. The first sword that waved in triumph upon the surmounted ramparlsof Yorktown, was a Rhode Island sword. The owner of that svvonl, as he clambered up the work, received upon his hands and aims the stabs of the bayonets that were aimed at his life, and having gained the summit, ar and planted himself firmly there, he lifted his sword aloft in his bleeding hand, and called aloud to friends and foes, “Copt. Stephen Olneys company forms here The Law's uncertainty. —Not long since Shipman, the broket’s agent, was discharg ed bv a New-York Cnmt, because it could not he proved that the offence with which he was charged had been committed within the limits of that State. Fortunately, before his discharge, all the money likely to he le covered vvas in the hands of its legitimate owners. We find in the Now-Yoik ‘'Cour tier des Etats Unis,” a case of a more curi ous character. A traveler going from Lew istown. New-York, to Kingston in Canada, found on his arrival at the latter place, that a valise of his had been stolen, hut luckily discovered it in the possession of an individ ual, who was brought up before the author ities. Witnesses being heard, the judge de clared that he could not exercise jurisdic tion in the case, as it was not clearly proved that the stearn-hoat was in British waters at the time of the robbery. “ Well, at least give me back my valise,” said the traveler. “If I have not the power to condemn the thief,” replied the judge, “ neither have l the right to dispose of the plunder; hut both can be detained till a requisition sliull be made by the Governor of New-Yoik.” The travel er. seeing that the latter functionary would he no better able to establish the nationality of the theft, and that he was only likely Ut ilise both his time and his expenses, gave the matter up, and the thief was allowed to walk off, amid the laughter of the crowd, hearing on his shoulders the valise he had stolen, and of which the law had 1 just ad judged to him the ownership. A cure far Consumption —Tea made of St. John’s wort, used as aconstant drink, has cured the consumption, and what has been done may he done again. The tea may he made as you would make peppermint or uny other herb tea to drink—by merely steeping the herb in warm water. The herb may he gathered at any time after it is large enough—but the- best time for gather ing it is during the month of July. It may be found in almost every meadow.