Newspaper Page Text
Let the respectable portion of community,
who are daily in his company, male and fe
male, in their walks tho* the city hy day
or night, be upon the lookout, and they will
see hitn among tlie vilest of our race, and up
on terms of the gteatest intimacy with the
thief and the assassin. He has deceived
and led captive at his will, many who have
been introduced to him by the polite and
fashionable.
Notwithstanding his well known charac
ter for infamy, the City Council have giv
en him letters of credit, and are providing
him with places where he may ensnare the
unsuspecting and thoughtless. We know
not wiiy the city authorities should encour
age this worse than midnight thief to com
mit his lawless deputations upon this peo
ple. But such is the fact.
This depredator passes himself off upon
the community by different names according
to the company he maybe ir.: Brandy,
Gin, Whiskey, Rum, Wine, Cordial, Beer,
and Cider, are a few of the names by which
he is known. Keep your houses and pla
ces of business well barred and bolted, for
this adroit scoundrel is going about at night
with buglars and robbers. What a shame
that he should \>e mctmrngecl in his villainy
by the City Council! What a commentary
upon the morals of the age !
We are mistaken if these protectors of
the peace and welfare of Cincinnati! are
not “ heaping up for themselves wrath
against the day of wrath.” —Morning Star.
This same desperate villain has been in
festing these regions also, under the above
designated, as well as other names. He
has the cool effrontery to take upon himself,
among others, the name of Ice Punch. He
lias entrapped to their ruin, some of the sons
of our best families. He has committed
murder upon murder, crime upon crime.—
His devastations are wide as the land, and
the fairest spots of the earth have not esca
ped his ravages. He is known by name
and character, is seen and recognized hy
the public officers every day, and yet no
man lays hands upon him ; but he is even
hy the highest authorities, licensed in his
work of blood. Ves, he is here also, and at
his Demoniacal employ ; yet what can the
people do when the rulers rebuke not, hut
give the rein unchecked, to the destroyer ?
— S. C. Temp. Ado.
Alcohol. —The medical profession affitm,
that Alcohol is a poison so diffusive and
subtle, that, it rapidly circulates through the
arteries and veins, the lungs and the heart,
penetrating the smallest nerves, the most
delicate fibres, the secret recesses of the
brain, and in short, through every part of the
system. That it is not digestible, and if it
did not escape from our bodies by the breath
and through the pores of the skin, it would
produce death. That it produces idiocy,
stinted growth, premature decay, disease
in every form and shape, in proportion as it
is taken into the system.
T UE
The State Agricultural Fair. —We bad
occasion yesterday to allude to the approach
ing Agricultural Fair, in this State, and to
day we find in the Baton Rouge Advocate, a
communication, which sets forth so clearly
the advantages to be derived from annual
meetings of the planters and mechanics of
our State, that we copy it for the benefit of
all concerned.— N. O. Tropic.
In travelling through the State, the fol
lowing questions were often put to me, par
ticularly by those who were unacquainted
with the nature of those institutions: Os
what peculiar benefit are they to us, or to
the community? What advantages does
the planter or mechanic derive from them ?
Each of these questions will l>e answered
individually :
Ist. By means of these Societies, great
numbers of the agriculturists of our coun
try are brought together, to compare notes,
ns it were, to observe each other’s success,
and converse on the topics connected with
their respective branches of industry.—
They examine the machines, implements,
animals, and products offered for exhibition,
and are induced to bestow more care and
labor in the selection of their seeds and
stock, in the preparation of the soil, and in
their tillage and harvesting. Every year,
new and valuable improvements are thus
made known and introduced by*which many
are essentially benefited. Premiums al
so encourage to effect, and, a highly salu
tary incentive is furnished, in the honor
to lie acquired by successful and approved
farming. A similar effect, too, results from
the bounties given by the different States to
encourage the culture of some particular
product. These have never been offered
without anew impulse being stirred, and
eliciting increased attention to the pursuit.
Some of the States in these respects, are
far in advance of others, hut almost all are
beginning more to appieciute their real pros
perity.
2nd. Fairs are not only interesting as ex
hibitions of the products of human labor,
in the agricultural [tranches as well as in
the mechanical arts, hut are alike indispen
sable to private comforts and national pios
perity. The experience of all nations
wherein Fairs have been held, has, through
all time, attested their good effects, in the
incentive which public admiration never
fails to excite in the cultivator, tho artist
and mechanic, to renewed zeal, and to
stretch every faculty of his mind and body
to their utmost capacity, in the fabrication
and cultivation of what gives pleasure to ev
ery one. and profit to himself.
3rd. To piantets and mechanics who de
sire to avail themselves of improvements in
trie practical sciences of culture on the me
chanical arts, they are the sources of profit
anil instruction, in arranging the labors of
the people, according to t 1 eir different oc
cupations. They are a means of useful
ness to the public at large, and redound, in
more ways ‘ban one, to the interests of the
operative class. Mere speculators admire
them as a splendid pageant, which capti
vetes the eye, by the brilliant effect of an j
exhibition, giving at one view the numerous
as well us the choicest productions of tho !
fields, and of the useful and mechanic arts, j
presenting in the arrangements n condens
ed display of the fruits of the native iiulus- j
try and skill of our country. I deem it use
less to dwell any longer, in order to prove
the bearing and influence of these institu
tions ; and I therefore hope that the above
facts may he regarded and observed with
due consideration, particularly by those who
arc most interested.
I will here take the opportunity to re
mark, that although only a little more than
two years have elapsed since our Associa
tion had its beginning, and was organised,
it has been productive of much good, and
notwithstanding we are gradually progress
ing, yet I think that the energy and zeal of
the people of Louisiana should not be lack
ing in favor of such an object as will pro
mote their own interests. The people of
the South are proverbially generous—let
them he generous to themselves, and let the
next Agricultural and Mechanics’ Fair of
the State, show,that the advantages arising
from such an institution are duly apprecia
ted by them ; let them be determined and
persevering, and success will eventually
crown their efforts.
P reparation fur Winter. —With farmers
it is necessary to have all necessary prepa
rations for the hard weather that is ap
proaching. ft is as essential to save crops
as to make them, and too often it is the case
that gathering is delayed too long.- Corn
after maturity loses daily till housed.
Sweet potatoes should be put away be
fore frost, and lush potatoes are liable to in
jury after the cold sets in. Above all
things, have preparations to shelter stock of
every kind. Milch cows cannot he kept in
good condition without protection from the
pelting storms, and they will not give half
the milk.
An open shelter, with a southern expos
ure, is easily constructed and answers an
admirable purpose. Sheep should have
shelters where they can escape the cold
rains, and lie down on dry places.
Hogs are the better to have protection
from the rain. Care, however, should be
taken that their sheds he kept free from wet
straw, corn husks, nr any tiling that will in
duce diseases of the skin. It is important
that their apartments have all the dust and
litter scraped out every few clays.
The secret of having stock in good con
dition through winter is to have them fat at
tho start, and then commence feeding ear
ly, and he sure that they have regular at
tention and are not suffered to fall off. One
good animal well attended is worth more
than two inferior ones neglected. A fat,
strong farm horse will do more work than
two feeble, poor animals. Keep no more
animals than can always he in condition, is
the secret of success, and it is to he; regret
ted so few adhere to this rule.— Tmn. Asr.
Preserving Street Potatoes. —We copy
the following method of preserving potatoes
from the American Agriculturists’ Alma
nac :
Select, a dry place, level the earth, and
lay a bed of dry stiavv so as to form a circle
of about six feet in diameter. On this
straw pile np the potatoes until they form a
cone four or five feet high, over which
spread a Ittle dry grass. Then cover the
centre cone with corn-stalksset up endwise,
with the lints resting on the ground, and the
tops reaching over the apex, of a ÿient
\ thickness to conceal all of the potatoes. —
j Ther. cover the whole pile with earth at a
! depth of at least a foot, without leaving any
air-hole at the top, as is frequently done.—
A small shelter should then be made so as
to prevent the rains from washing off the
earth. This may lie done by inserting in
the ground about the pile four forked stakes,
on which rails may he placed to support
the covering, which may consist of hoards,
bark, thatch or other substances. Potatoes
can he preserved in this manner until June,
nearly as flesh as when first put up.
INTERESTING TO COTTON GROW
ERS.
Panola Cos. Miss. 2Gth Jan. 1543.
Air. Editor. —Tt is usual for Cotton
Glowers to sun their Cotton as they gather
it, and then gin it as early as possible.—
This, according to my judgment and expe
rience, is clearly wrong. Cotton should
never he sunned, unless it be such as has
been gathered quite wet with rain; nor
should it he ginned until it has been heated.
Heat diffuses oil, and we know there is a
large quantity in cotton seed. Now, sir,
put it together as you gather it, both morn
ing and evening, and there is sufficient
moisture to make it heat. This being the
case, the oil in the seed is diffused through
the lint—for it cannot evaporate. When it
remains in this situation a sufficient length
of time to spoil the seed, the cotton should
then ho thrown up and cooled. Care
should he taken not to let it turn blue;
this however, is not so easily done us you
might suppose.
The process of turning over and throw
ing up will likely have to he repeated two
or three times before the seed are entirely
spoiled. The trouble of overturning anil
tossing it up in the cotton or gin house is
not greater than sunning it on a scaffold.
By this process you gain the weight of the
oil which is diffused throughout the lint, and
which gives the cotton the oily gold color
which is desirable, and also that elasticity
and adhesive quality, like wool, which nev
er fails to enhance its value.
But, sir, there are other advantages grow
ing out of this operation ; the gin will pick
it at least one-sixth faster, and clean the
seed, and instead of cutting off short parti
cles, as is always the case when the cotton
is open and fresh, the saws take it off’ in
large flakes, thereby making the staple lon
ger and stronger.
Every farmer knows that his early cotton
outweighs, and has better staple than his
late cotton; and he also knows that the ear
lier it is gathered after it opens tho better.
Now, sir. these facts show the correctness
of my theory; for exposure to the sun and
rains evaporates the oil from the seed and
makes the lint short and light.
Farmers should secure in dry weather
and fimn evening pickings,Jin a house to it
self, or a portion of the gin, house sufficient of
dry good cotton, to make seed, hut the bal
ance of their crop they should he sure to
subject to the process of heating and cool
ing in the shade. It is said that the Britisli
s<d if ti? xi is iii rt maa<d m& a> AHia
East Tndia cotton is vastly inferior to ours
nt present. If we can make our cotton
still better, the danger from that quarter
will be lessened.— Tennessee Enquirer.
Milk. —A Russian chemist, it is said, has j
discovered a method of producing milk at j
any time or place, “ns good as new.” His j
process is, to form from the evaporation, at
a gentle heat, of newly drawn milk, a fine
powder, which is put into closely-stopped
bottles; and when the milk is wanted, a
bottle of tlie powder mixed vvil'i water, fur
nishes it at once. This idea of the powder
may be something new; but as to the use
of water, it is a practice as old as the milk
men !
MD@©IE!LILAfcIY
The Adjutant. —To a griffin, as they hie
roglypliically call strangers in India, per
haps the greats novelty in Calcutta, is that
huge, grave, long-beaked bird called the
adjutant, but which should rather he named
Dominie Sampson ; for his air is decidedly
more abstracted and pedagoguish than mil
itary, and his custom has nothing garish or
gay about it. The young Johnny Newcnme
stares with so slight wonder when lie first
sees this enormous bird stiiding slowly, as
if in deep thought, through the streets, fly
ing round a corner within a yard of his per
son, with his monstrous bill projecting for
midably and threatning him with impale
ment, gobbling up large hones of beef, or
a four-pound loaf, or nnyj other trifle that is
pitched out to him ; and when lie has made
a satisfactory meal, standing on one leg,
like a mutilated statue, on the highest pin
nacle to digest it.
The adjutant, as is w 11 known, is a harm
less and useful bird, that performs the duty
of a scavenger in India, devouring offal and
punishing snakes, of which he is very fluid.
His valuable services are so fully appreci
ated, that the company have taken him into
their charge, and placed the whole fraterni
ty under their protection, punishing with a
heavy fine the murder of one of these, birds.
Yet sue!) is the ingratitude of mankind, that
the inoffensive adjutant is persecuted by the
most annoying and cruel tricks. Shank
hones of mutton are cleansed out and stuffed
with gunpowder, with a slow match applied;
then the meat is thrown out and swallowed,
and when the poor wretch is chuckling over
his savory morsel, it explodes and blows
him to atoms. A more venial trick, and
not unamnsing, I confess, is to tie two legs
of mutton together with apiece of whipcord,
leaving'an interval of three or four yards;
the gigots are then tossed out amongst the
birds, and soon find their way into the stom
achs of a couple of tlie most active. As
they keep together, it is all very well ; hut
as soon as the cord tightens, both become
alarmed, and take wing, mutually astonished
at the phenomenon, no doubt. A laughable
tugging match then ensues in the air, each
ac jutant striving to mount higher than the
other, till at last they attain great elevation.
When at length, the weaker bird is forced
to disgorge his mutton, anew power comes
into play—the Iforce of gravity; and the
pendlum leg of mutton, after some redicu
lous oscillations, brings the ennqurer down
to the earth a great deal faster than lie wish
es.
These creatures have prodigious powers
of degultition and digestion. It is a very
common thing for one of them to seize an
impertinent crow, who is trouhlesom when
the adjutant wants to eat his breakfast in
quiet, and, turning him light about lace
with a skillful coup dehcc, to send him caw
ing down his capacious throat. I recollect
at Dinapore, when we shook a hag fox, and
had an hour’s run one morning, some silly
servant brought tlie dead animal home, and
tossed him into the barrack square amongst
the aejutants, who all came flocking about
the poor defunct. One ravenous fellow
would seize him by the brush, another by
the leg, and a third by the hack; still it would
! not do, none could manage to gulph him
down. At last a wise old bird set about
the business scientifically, beginning at the
right end ; he took tlie fox's head in his
mouth and bolted it after considerable strain
ing; then, with a great effort, lie swallowed
the body, till noting remained but a bit of
the tail sticking out of one side of his beak.
At this the others began, rather hopelessly,
to pick, till at length the gormandizer, be
coming annoyed at their teasing, flew off
with his delicate lunch to digest it at his
leisure. — Events of a Military Life.
Senttmental. Persons. —There are tew
qualities of the heart concerning which men
are more likely to be deceived in their in
tercourse with each other, than in regard to
kindness of disposition, tenderness of feel
ing, and genuine sensibility. Many a one
passes for a man of exquisite sensibilities,
because he has the art of feigning emotions
which lie does not feel—a knack of speak
ing tremulously, and lachrymal glands
which are easily excited. Nay, tlie very
man whom you have been admiring, and al
most pitying, as a being of too soft and del
icate a mould for the rude jars of the world,
may he as unfeeling u wretch as ever kick
ed a poor man from his door, or stung his
wife’s heart to the quick witli his sarcasms;
while he who lias provoked your resentment
by his silence, and seeming apathy, may have
a heart as full of kindness as the sun offight,
and may count every day as lost in which
he has not made some sacrifice for a suffer
ing fellow creature. We always feel sus
picious of a man who is constantly telling
liow his heart bleeds for poor, suffering hu
manity ; how distressing it is to see so much
misery in tlie world ; how unfortunate it is j
to have such acute sensibilities. In nine
eases out of ten, the persons who talk so
beautifully of the duties of charity, benevo
lence, and sympathy tor misfortune are the
first to recoil from tlie smoke, the filth, the
coarse language, and the uncouth manners, j
which, in this world of stern realities, usual- j
ly make poverty disgusting. “Give me,”
says a fine writer, “ the man who goes j
about the world doing good as noiselessly j
as some quiet stream, that makes a meadow j
green, in so modest a way that the sun can- I
not see its {waters, nor the ear of the blind
mole hear its babblings.” Real feeling is
a quiet principle. It works in silence and I
retirement; its deepest fountains are gen
erally the stillest; and its strongest spells,
those least seen. It is found not in tlie
sunshine of earth—beneath the fig-tree of
luxury;—rather seek it on tlie bleak bill
side, and in the secluded cavrens of the
world, where the winds of adversity blow,
or tbe serpents of persecution and contume
ly his."; forit isinsuchscenestlial its strength
is required, and its enduring nature proved.
There arc many beings in society who
have sensibility ; whose hearts will throb,
and whose eyes will fill, at the recital of
melancholy occurrences ; but in what is
forcibly called the world, there are few per
sons of real feeling—for feeling, instead of
indulging itself in a luxurious and dream
like melancholy, dives into tlie depth of a
sympathy. For tlielattersense, knowledge,
and thoughtfulness are necessary. Such
feeling is not a mere emotion, but a deep
perception, and is to be found oftener with
the cheerful and light-hearted than with the
gloomy-minded man. Beautifully has
Wordsworth described this feeling in his
“Matthew the Schoolmaster.” He first
paints the sensibility of the man ; then, his
feeling :
Tlir sighs which Matthew heaved were s'ghs
Os one tired ou t with fan and madness;
The tears which rnme to Matthew’s eyes
Were tears of light, the dew of gladness.
Yet sometimes when the secret cup
Or still and serious thought went round,
It seemed ns if he drank it up
He felt with spirit so profound.
Yankee Blade.
Calumny. —Station is a sort of pillory,
and n man who takes an office voluntarily
sets himself up as a mark, at which every
low-minded petsoti can level his abuse.—
There have been no exceptions to this; for it
is impossible for any man to escape censure,
who stands high enough for notice. Insig
nificance is a better shield against calumny
than all the great and good qualities that
were ever found in tlie human breast.
The fact is that in the generality of cases,
they who go into public life, should have a
cuticular relationship to tlie “armed rhinoce
ros”—a hide, against which rifle halls may
he flattened, almost without attracting the
attention of the individual at whom these
leaden pellets are directed, and a sensibilty
so obtuse that the thrust of a lance may he
mistaken for tlie equivalent to a musquito
Lite. But practice is a great thing in these
matters. By practice Mithridates trained
himself to swallow poisons without serious
inconvenience, and with practice, the “hand
of least imployment,” looses its “daintie
senses,” and can almost handle fire without
feeling uncomfortably warm. Notwithstand
ing the difference of idiosyncrasy, which
makes a wound almost fatal to one man,
while it scaicely does morethantickle anoth
er, it requires considerable practice, carried
on by progressive lessons, to harden tlie hu
man epidermis into that true politicallosity
which can blunt a broadsword and turn the
edge of a razor, and which, in fact, if it feels
at all, rather derives pleasure than pain,
from the hardest of knocks. Never, until a
man cansmile with indifference when his fin
est sensibilities are rudely scraped by meta
physical sand paper and moral oyster shells,
need lie regard himself as qualified for lofty
stations. The Indian composedly sings his
death song when tortuied at the stake; hut
the politician should be able to fiddle when
not only himself, hut all his Rome is burn
i n g. — Pennsylvanian.
\ Curious Relics. —At the corner of Bayard
and Bowery, New York, is a hotel called
i the North American, and on tlie top thereof
i you may spy a wooden image of a lad with
ragged kt.ees and elbows, whose mother
doesn’t know they’re out. That image com
memorates tlie history of a yankee hoy, by
the name of David Reynolds. Some fifty
years ago he came here at the age of twelve
or fourteen, without a copper in his pocket.
I think he had run away, at all events, lie
was alone and friendless. Weary and hun
gry he leaned up against a tree, where the
hotel now stands, every eye looked strange
upon him, and he felt utterly forlorn and
disheartened. While Ite'was trying to devise
some honest means to obtain food, a gentle
man inquired for a boy to carry his trunk to
the wharf; and the yankee eagerly offered
his services. For thejob he received twen
ty-five cents; most of which he spent for
fmitto sell again. He stationed himself by
the friendly tree, where he had first obtained
employment, and soon disposed of his stock
to advantage, and with increased capital he
increased his stock. He must have man
aged his business with yankee shrewdness,
or perhaps he was a cross of Scotch and
Yankee, for he soon established a respecta
ble fruit stall beneath the tree, and then he
bought a small shop that stood within tlie
shade, and then he purchased a lot of land,
including several buildings around ; and fi
nally he pulled down the old house, and
built up the hotel which now stands there.
The old tree seemed to him like home.—
There he had met with his good luck in a
strange city, and from day to day, and from
month to month, those friendly houghs had
still 1 inked down upon his rising fortune.—
He would not desert that which stood by
him in the dreary hour of poverty and trial.
It must he moved to make room for the big
mansion ; but it should not be destroyed.—
From its beloved trunk he caused his image
to be carved, as a memento of his own for
lorn beginnings, and of his grateful recol
lections. That it might tell a truthful tale,
and remind of earthly struggles, the rich
citizens of New York caused it to be carved j
with ragged trowsers, and jacket out at the
elbows.
j
Temptation. —Mark the character of eve- j
ry associoto :—look into it with a penetrat
ing eye, and if you see the equilibrium of
his mind beginding to fall on the side of im
morality and vice, forsake his company in
stantly, least you be assimilated into his
practices, and be assimilated into those paths
which you now detest and abhor. Yield
hut once to the tempter and a thousand
chances to one that you are undone. The
principles that have been culeatcd in i
childhood, and followed up day by day, and
year by year, will be forsaken, and the gray i
hairs of those who loved and cherishod you ,
will he brought in sorrow to the grave.—
Perhaps you chink the language of those
who adJress you is too strong —that their
fears are groundless. Can it be? An
angel's eloquence could not be too powerful,
when such a gem as the immortal mind is at
stake. Were you trembling on a verge ofa
crumbling precipice, you might as well say,
that strong exertions in your behalf were
vain and futile. It is not your body clone
that isj in jeopardy. It is the unseen prin
ciple within; the spark lit up by the Deity
himself, which the Atlantic cannot quench,
nor the Alps conceal. Then consider no
exertions too great on their part to save the
gem untarnished—as immaculate and bright
as when it came from its Oicator; that
when it hursts away from its frail casket it
may wing its way to holier worlds, to shine
with increasing splendor when the universe
is blotted from existence. We appeal to
you young men, anil ponder the question
well, can you be too careful of entering in
to temptation ? Turn away with disgust
from the appearance of evil. Parley not
with it—Look from it end you will be safe;
and many eyes will be gladdened to see you
come forth into active life purified by ad
herence to the advice of those in whom
you should put implicit confidence.
Anecdote of a Goose. —The following ac
count of a Canada Goose is so extraordina
ty, that 1 am aware it would with difficulty
gain credit, were not a whole palish able to
vouch to the truth ofit. The Canada geese
are not fond of a poultry-yard, hut are ra
ther of a rambling’ disposition. One of
these birds, however, was observed to at
tach itself, in the strongest and most affec
tionate manner to the housedog, and would
never quit the kennel except for the purpose
of feeding, when it would return attain im
mediately. It always sat by the dog, but
never presumed to go into the kennel, ex
cept in rainy weather. Whoever the dog
barked the goose would cackle and run at
the person she supposed the dog harked at,
and try to bite him by the heels. Some
times she would attempt to feed with the
dog; but this the dog, who treated his
faithful companion rather with indifference,
l would not permit. This bird would not go
| to roost with the others at night, unless driv
en by main force; and when in the morn
ing she was turned into the field, she would
never stir from the yard gate, !>ut sit there
the whole day insight of the dog. At last,
orders were given that she should no longer
he molested hut suffered to accompany it
as she liked. Being thus left to herself “lie
rati about the yard with him all the night,
and. what is paiticularly extraordinary, and
can be attested by the whole parish, when
ever the dog went out of the yard and ran
into the village, the goose always accompa
nied him, contriving to keep tip with him
by the assistance of her wings ; and in this
| way running and flying, followed him all
over the parish. This extraordinary affec
tion of the goose towards the dog, which
continued to his death, two years after it
was first observed, is supposed to have ori
ginated from his having accidentally saved
her from a fox in the very momont of dis
tress. While the dog was ill, the goose
never quitted him day or night, not even to
j feed ; and it was apprehended she would
have been starved to death, had not orders
| been given for a pan of corn to he sat every
| day close to her kennel. At this time the
| goose generally sat in the kennel, and would
i not suffer any one to approach, except the
person who brought the dog’s or her own
food. The end of this faithful bird was
j melancholy; for when the dog died, she
would still keep possession of the kennel ;
l ami anew house dog being introduced,
which in size and color resembled that
lately lost, the poor goose was unhappily
deceived, and going into the kennel as usu
al, the new inhabitant seized her by the
throat, and killed her.— Willoughby's Or
nithology.
The Wife a Being to come home to. —And
after all, what is it that man seeks in the
companionship of woman 1 An influence
1 like the gentle dew, and the cheering light,
I more felt throughout the whole of his ex
| istence, in its softening healing, harmoniz
ing power ; than acknowledge by any cer
! tain mle. It is in fact a being to come
j home to, in the happiest sense of that ex-
I pression.
Poetic lays of ancient times were wont
to tell how the hold warrior returning from
the fight would doff his plumed helmit, and
reposing from his toils, lay bare his limbs
that woman's hand might pour into their
wounds the healing balm. But never wea
ried knight, nor warrior covered with the
dust of the battle-field, was more in the
need of woman’s soothing power, than are
those care-worn sons of toil, who struggle
for the bread of life, in our more peaceful
and enlightened days. And still, though the
romance of the castle, the helmit, the wav
ing plume, and the
“Clarion wild and high.”
may all have vanished from the scene ; the
charm of woman’s influence lives ns bright
ly in the picture of domestic joy, as when
she placed the wreath of victory on the hero’s
brow. Nay, more so ; for there are deep
er sensibilities at work, thought more pro
found, arid passions more intense, in our
great theatre of intellectual and moral strife;
than where the contest was for martial fame,
and force of arms procured for each compe
titor his share of glory, or of wealth.
Among all the changes which have taken
place in the condition of mankind, it is then
not the least of woman’s privilages, that her
influence remains the same, except only as
it is deepened and perfected as her own
character approaches towards perfection.
It is not the least of her privileges, that she
can still be all to man which his necessities
require; that lie can retire from the tumult
of the world, and seek her society which
nothing can impair, so long as she receives
him with a true and faithful heart—true to
the best and kindest impulses of which her
nature is capable; and faithful to the sacred
trust committed to her care.
Atid that it is so, how many a home can
witness—how many a fireside welcome, how
many a happy meeting after absences pain
fully prolonged ! Yes, there are scenes
within the sacred precincts of the household i
hearth, which,not the less, because no stran-
ger’s eyes beholds them, repay and richly
too, dark days of weary conflict, ntid long
nights of anxious care. But who shall paint
them ? Are they not graven on the hearts
of wives! and those who hold the picture
there, in all its beauty, vividness, and truth
would scarcely wish to draw aside the veil
which screens it from the world.— Mrs. Ellis.
A Loch of Hair. —Few things in this
weary world are so delightful as keepsakes.
Nor do they ever, to my heart at Ipast, nor to
my eyes, lose their tender, powerful chat ms.
How slight, how small, how tiny a memori
al, saves a beloved one from oblivion— worn
on the finger, or close to the heart, especial*
ly if she be dead. No thought is so insup
portable as that of entire, total, blind for
getfulness—when the creature that once
laughed, and sung, and wept to us close by
our side, or in our arms, is as if her smiles,
her voice, her tears, her kisses, had never
been. She and them all swallowed up in
the dark nothingness of the dust.
Os all keepsakes, memorials, relics—most
dearly, most devotedly do I love a little lock
of hair; and oh ! when the head is beauti
fied is long mouldered in the dust, how spir
itual seems the undying glossiness of the
sole remaining ringlet! All else go to noth
ing, save and except that soft, smooth, bur
nished and glorious fiagmcntofthe apparrel
-11 it ft that once hung to clouds and sunshine
over a. n angel’s brow.
Ay, k lo.ck of hair is far better than any
picture ; ii is part of the beloved object her
self, it belongs In ibe tresses that often long
ago, may have been dishevelled, Tike a show
er of sunbeams over yi.nr beating breast!—
But now solemn thoughts ft nddcn the beau
ty once so bright—so refulgent; the longer
you gaze on it the mote it seems to say up
braidingly, “Wecp’st thou no more for mel 1 ’
arid indeed a tear, true to the imperishable
affections in which all nature seems to re
joice, hears witness, that the object to which
it yearned is no more forgotten, now that
she has been dead for many, many long
weary days, months, years, than she waa
forgotten during one hour of her absence
that came like a passing sound between usr
and the sunshine of her living—her loving
smiles.
The Nary —We copied a few days since
from the New York American an article,
prefaced with some remarks, on the subject
of Naval Command, taken irom the Army
and Navy Chronicle. Its publication has
elicited, from a highly respectable Rource,
the sound observations which are subjoined:
For some time past the Navy and its
affairs have been the subjects of active dis
cussion. This important and favorite arm
of the Nation has occupied the most anxious
thoughts of its friends. The repeated
Courts Martial, and strange remittances of
sentence, have awakened a desire of strict
enquiry. Information is sought upon many
points of discipline and general course of
duty. Ati anxious public are looking more
closely into its affaiis, desirous of forming
better judgment on so important a subject,
to the end that evils may he corrected, and
that the service may he placed upon a ba
sis of justice and strict regulation. It is
easy to perceive from ihe anxiety evinced,
that a discerning people are about to take
up the subject of the Navy, and as iti (all
public matters, compel those in power to
administer its affairs in consonance with
the public good. All agree that the sen
tences of Courts Martial have been grossly
perverted, and that the very objects for
which they have convened so repeatedly,
have been defeated. The members of
these tribunals have performed their parts
faithfully, so far as they have been concern
ed. Not so with the Executive : his mis
placed clemency has mortified the truo
friends of the Navy, and caused them much
alarm. The necessity of purgation makes
it the bounden duty of the Executive to
carry out promptly the decisions pionnunc
ed upon all offenders by the properly con
stituted Courts. To do otherwise is hut to
defeat the ends of justice, and heap ex
pense upon the Government.
As regards “ morality, qualification for
command and general good character, ” they
should be esteemed as indispensable attri
butes of every Naval officer, and their ne
cessity impressed upon all from the moment
of their introduction into the service. Any
officer lacking these cssenital qualities,
should incur the marked and decided dis
pleasure of the Department. We hold it
that the head of the Department should
look closely into the character of every offi
cer. He should cherish those of moral and
exemplatory conduct, while he should re
buke and hold strictly accountable those of
an opposite character. It is a positive
wrong to the Nation to appoint officers to
command or any other responsible duty,
who are not known to he prudent, discreet,
moral ami intelligent men. It is sheer folly
to be sending out ships of war abroad in
charge of officers who are even devoid of
the ambition necessary to acquire a pass
ing knowledge of their noble profession.—
And it is also doing direct injustice to the
deserving and meritorious to put forth men
who have skulked from service, or because
of intemperance and vice have been justly
prescribed by former administrations.—
Command and responsibility should be con
sequent upon professional skill, ability and
faithful service. We contend that the aim-.
[>le circumstance of an officer being high on,
the register in point of seniority is no gronnd;
nor reason for claiming or demanding the
right to a command. Without high quali
fication and its indispensable attendants, his
pretensions should not be recognised.
We venture to assert that since the or
ganization of the Navy, it never possessed
better materials than at the present moment,
for laying deep and broad the foundation of
its efficiency and of an elevated moral char-,
acter. It abounds with gallant spirits thirst
ing for proper occasion to maintain its well
earned reputation, and whose hearts sicken
at the efforts made to injure its just fame by
trifling with its true interests. They have
the right to ask to be ridden of the unwor
thy, and of all who are wanting in proper
conduct and moral exemplary tone. They
may rightfully demand that respect may be
paid to merit; that the standard of charac
ter may be raised, and just encouragement
extended to those who seek service and