Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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