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VOL. L €l]f (Ucorgia Ciii2.cn , published, t -Ory Saturday morning, in Macon, Ga. on the follow - CONDITIONS : If prttS sltirtly in advance • - $2 50 per annum If lint so paid - - . 3 00 “ “ Legal Advertisements will be made to conform to tbs following pro iMons of the Statute: — holes of Land and Negroes, by Executors, Administrators and ans. are reijuired by law- to be advertised in a public gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. These sales must be bold on the first Tuesday in the month,between he hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court House in the county in which the property is situated. The sates of Personal Property must bo advertised in like manner for ii days. Notice to Debugs and Creditors of an Instate must be published forty •Jays. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for four months. Citations or letters of Administration must be published thirty days for Dismission from Administration, nw-nthlii, nil months —for Djs mission from Guardianship,/w/y dans. Rules for forec'osure of mortgage, must be published monthly, for four months —for establishing lost papers, for the full s/mce of three months —for c.sm|ielting titlesfrom Executors or Administrator^ where a bond has been given by tile deceased, the full space of three months. Professional and business Caros, inserted, according to the follow ing scale: for 4 lines or less per annum - - 85 00 in advance “ (I lines “ “ * * * 7 00 “ k * *i io •• “ “ - $lO 00 “ u ffjf Transient Advertisements will be charged sl, per square of 12 lines or less for tlie first and 50 cts. for each subsequent ‘ assertion. —’ On these rates there will be a deduction of 20 percent, on settlement when advertisements are continued 3 months, without alteration. I ‘cf All Letters except those containing remittances must be pos‘\ f aid or free. Postmasters and others who will act as Agents for the “Citizen’ may retaiti2o percent, for their trouble, on all cask subscriptions for warded. OFFICE on Mullierry Street, East of the Floyd House and near the Market. rnfro oimm I €a r hi. WEL LA M & BEL L, Attorneys at Law and General Land Agents, Atlanta, .(la., Will practice in DeKulh and adjoining counties: and in tlie Supreme Court at Decatur.—Will also visit any part of the country for the settlement of claims, £c. without suit, jy Bounty L\nii Claims prosecuted with despatch. Office on White Hall .St., over Dr. Denny's D. jg Store. A. R. KJ'I.L VM. M. A. BELL. S. & R. P. HALL, Attorneys at Lair, Macon, Georgia. PRACTICE in Bibb, Crawford, Houston. Epson, Monroe, Macon, Dooly. T\viggs..lotn's and Pike counties; and in the Supreme Court at Macon. Decatur,Talbotton and Americas. Oromen over *eoTT, Cakuart S i Co.’s Store. April 4, 1850. - —ly Win. K. (leGRAFFENREID, Attorney & Counsellor at Law.. MACON, GA. OFFICE MIXBJtitW'STI.ET. NEARLY OPPOS4TE WASHINGTON HALL. SfasehjD, D'fiO. I —ly jo n \ m. mis ATTORNEY AT LAW, SAVANNAH, GE<)RGIA. June 2Fth. Vf.Mi. D — ly p. G. ARRINGTON, Attorney at Law and Kotary Public, ©jllcthorpe, silicon Cos., dec 14 C’lJ OJJUIA. 38—ts s?a vi n m e is 9 £. p a AND NOTARY PUBLIC—MACON, CEO. C COMMISSION ER OF DEEDS, See., for the States of J Atabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia. North Carolina, South Carolina, Flori da. Missouri, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Penn sylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Arkansas, Maine, Sec. Depositions taken, Accounts probated, Deeds and Mort gages drawn, and all documents and instruments of writing prepared and authenticated for use and record, in any of the above States. Residence on Walnut street, near the African church. TT Public Office adjoining Dr. M. S. Thomson’s Botan ic Store—opposite Floyd House. Macon, June 28, 185 G 14 —ly REMEMBER! WH.F.N in your extremity that Dr. /I. S. THOMSON is still in Macon, Groprg’i 5 ’, and when written to, sends Medicine by mail to any part of the country. Dant give up all hope without consulting him. June 7,1850 - 11—ts € lji v -pLuf a Comer, j The Press Gang—An Original Ballad, ( ’Twas on a lonesome winter’s night, l The pelting storm w ithout did rattle, l When near the fire, sat Abner Park, Reading Trafalgar's blood stained battle. \ / ’Tis strange, quoth Abner, as he read, That men should fight, and kill for hire, Should, undismayed, meet wounds and death, And all war’s horrors, dread and dire. He listened to the pelting rain, The wind's loud bellowing ’cross the moor; But hark, there's voices ’bove the storm, ! And footsteps now approach the door. But now the door is open burst, \ The lightning's flash, expose to view A band of Tars, as in they rushed : One bellows out, we’ve come for you. lienee! get you gone, young Abner cried, Nor one step foward dare to stir, Or, by him that rules the roaring tide, Your purpose I will soon deter. But now a ball whizzed ’cross the room And dyes his locks with purple gore; Aghast he stands, nor sheds a tear, They seize, they drag him to the shore. Poor Abner was a village swain, And long had loved a village lass: And oft times o’er the shady plain They’d lightly trip across the grass. The day was fixed, on Sunday morn, When Abner would have called her bride; Ah! would that 1 had ne’er been born, Poor Abner in his sorrow cried. But now by ruffians dragged on board, The gallant vessel spread her sails \ But yet amongst that motley horde, Nought, nought was heard, but sighs and wails, i From those who furced from children, wives, / Compelled across the seas to roam, I Who now were made to risk their lives, No more, perhaps, to see their home. But now the pipe, was echoed near and far, M hicli called to quarters every hardy tar ; Each took their station, and there were not a few W hose cheeks were wet with tearful pearly dew. All were called aft, the Captain cries, draw near, Say which amongst the pressed will volunteer ? Poor Abner answered, with a manly air, W e're all free-born, Sir, why are we brought here? Seize! Hold that villian, bare the rebel’s back, W ho dares thus speak upon my quarter deck, “W ith echoing lashes, make the vessel ring, And let him know, that here, I reign as king! They seine and bind poor Abner to the gun, And soon the murderous punishment's begun 5 The brutal wreteh with folded arms stands by Laughs at his vvrithings, mocks his agony. The phrensied look, the upturned quivering eye, L lashed the keen pangs of inward agony ; ‘ But oh, my pen, must thou the tale impart, Poor Abner’s life's blood circled from his heart. r llio word was given, the punishment was stopped, Poor Abner loosed, but on the deck he dropped: W liilst his life’s blood was oozing from him fust, lie tried to apeak, and these words were his last: Farewell to home! Oh Rosa, fare thee well! Take, take my blessing. Os my murder tell; A purple hue his cheeks now ov’rspread, They raised him up, but Abner’s soul had fled. Poor Rosa soon the dreadful news did hear, [fair; Pale grew those cheeks, which once had bloomed so Oh, have they, she cried, slain my beloved, The youth whose actions Heaven itself approved. Then farewell life, my heart is broke, she cried, 1 come, l come, she knelt, she gasped, she died; Another victim to that iron rule, Administered on ship board by knave and fool. In the church yard, her grave can now be seen, A yew tree shades it, its o’ergrown with green ; Let's draw a veil o’er acts as black as night, Such awful scenes, though legal, can ne’er be right. SAILOR. The Fate of Nations Dependent on Mothers, The destiny of a! nation is shaped by its charac ter; and that character, aggregate character of all its individual citizens, will ever be found to be moulded chiefly by maternal hands. Each mother may seem to do very little towards sucti a result; but tlie millions of mothers in a whole country must with inevitable certainty, leave their ow n ijnpres up on its general character and \ I remember hearing, more than ten years ago, ad anecdote quite in point, which strongly impressed this truth ou my mind. We all know too well the cornpari, lively ill success of tlie republics at the south of us. Fronj one of these republics in the northern part of South, America, a gentleman of high social & political standing there, a sagacious statesman, and a thoughtful, anxious patriot, who mourned over the bad results io f the experiment made by his own country in the work of self-government, came to ours, tor tjm purpose of leisurely examining our institutions/and of ascertaining, if possible, the true secret of if heir success, and of our great national prosperity.! My informant reported to me tlie result of this gentleman’s observation in two cases.* lie attended one of oiur military musters, and on witnessing the general s]j>irit of the scene as indicative of a passion for arms,/and especially the eager, enthusiastic inter est of tli/e young in the passing pageantry he turn ed to hjs companion, and very emphatically said, ‘That, sih will ruin you. It is the passion of the peo ple for Mar, and their reliance on the sword to carry their paints* which has been our bane and ruin in Soutly America; and, unless you check it in season, it wiM prove your ruin too.’ He knew not the coun teracting influences silently at w'ork through the lan/d; but he soon had an opportunity to catch a parsing glimpse of them. /This accomplished stranger, a Roman Catholic msited New Haven, Conn., and was present at an tlvening party, where were gathered the elite gentle jneu and ladies, of that well known centre of learn ing and social refinement. There was nothing in Ahe appearance of the men to excite surprise or spe cial attention, for he had seen others of similar accom plishments ; but the character of the women, the po sition they held in society, and the influence they w'ere so obviously qualified and permitted to exert struck him with such admiration and delight that on retiring from the scene, he exclaimed, ‘l’ve found it now. I have ascertained the secret of your success in self-government, prosperity, and greatness as are public. You owe it to your women. I never saw the like before. Such Mothers must, and no others can, make a nation like yours. Give us, in South America, such women for mothers, and we should, ere long, follow hard after you in the race of nation al prosperity and happiness.’ Well did Napoleon say to Madame de Stael.— ‘France wants mothers.” Yes, every land, the whole world‘wants mothers;’ mothers of the right charac ter and influence. Liberty, religion, almost every thing depend, under God, very much on what they are, and what they do. Our world can be neither redeemed, nor reformed, nor saved from ruin, witb -1 out mothers, good mothers; and every improvement in their character is one of the surest possible guar antees for the general iinj rovement and welfare of our race, through all coming time. — Rev. George C. I Beckwith. Born to Fortune. llow many of us grieve that such was not our auspicious advent in the world. “If I had on ly inherited such a fortune, how much good I would have done with it! how I would have enjoyed life!” Perhaps so; but none of us can* be very certain on this point. Riches hard en and corrupt tlie heart. Men are too often good only for their own welfare; and wealth would otten divest them of their motive for a proper course ot [ life. \Yc were yesterday in conversation with an elder ly gentleman who has lived a good life, and is reap ing its just reward. Another who looked older than jour friend, approached us; he was a miserable look ling object, bent down, aud in rags. He appeared grateful for the recognition received, and we think he received aid from the hand of our friend, who re marked as the poor fellow passed on, that ho had known him long. “ When I was a boy,” said he, “I played truant once, and went with othi& fads to the race course. That man was then a youth. He was “Jnbcpcnitcnt in all tljincjs—Neutral in Nollftttg.” MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JANUARY 18, 1851. richly dressed, and seated upon a fine and handsome caparisoned horse, while behind him stood his ser vant in livery, who, with his hand to his hat, endea vored to anticipate every wish of his young master, and occasionally held his horse when the young gentleman entered a bootli to venture his money up on the games of chance that were conducted there, ihe rest of us envied him, and thought how happy we should be were we only in his position, lie is now grateful for a sign of recognition from me.” Docs the reader know of no such instance as this? Does lie not see around him men who were once far above in their condition in this life? Has he not looked upon the graves of many poor fallen crea tures who in childhood he envied ? And yet how many who have it in their power to educate aright, intellectually and religiously, the children of their love, are neglecting this, and seeking only to render them rich enough to excite the admiration or the envy ot their companions in the journey of life ! [Phildelphia Ledger. Too M illing by half. CAUSE OF JOHN SMITH’S RETIREMENT. Many of our readers will recognise the point of the following joke, which we heard related ‘long time ago,’ but which we never saw in print. It is a‘good ’un ’ and will bear re-telling. M heu Gen. Jackson was President of the United States, he was tormented day after day by importu nate visitors (as the Chief Magistrates of this great country are) whom he did not care to see—and in consequence, he gave strict directions to his messen ger at the door to admit only certain persons, on a particular day, when lie was more busy with state affairs than usual. In spite ot this peremptory order, however, the at tendant bolted into bis apartment, during the fore noon, and informed the General that a person was outside who claimed to see him orders or no orders. ‘By the eternal!’ exclaimed tlie old man, ner vously, ‘ I won’t submit to this annoyance. Who is it r ‘Don’t know, sir.’ ‘Don't know? What’s his name?’ ‘ ills name ? Beg pardon, sir, it’s a woman.’ 4 A woman ! Show her in, James, show her in,’ said the President, wiping his face; and the next moment there entered the General’s apartment, a neatly clad female of past the ‘ middle age,’ who ad vanced courteously towards the old man, and ac cepted the chair he proffered her. ‘Be seated madam,’ he said. ‘ Thank you,’ responded the lady, throwing aside her veil, and revealing a handsome face to her en tertainer. ‘ My mission hither, to-day, General, continued the fair speaker, ‘is a novel one, and you cannot aid me, perhaps.’ ■ ‘ F& ouid 1 .aicrui, \ .l m A ‘ You are very kind, sir. 1 am apoor.wou.au/ General— ’ 5 ‘ Poverty is no crime, madam.’ * ‘No, sir. ‘ But I have a little family te care for—l am a widow, sir; and a clerk employed in one of the departments of your administration is indebted to me for board to a considerable amount, which 1 can not collect. I need the money sadly, and I come to ask if a portion of his pay cannot be stopped from to time, until this claim of mine—an honest one, General, of which lie had the full value —shall be cancelled.” ‘ I really, Madam, that is, I have no control in that way —how much is the bill?’ ‘ Seventy dollars, sir, here it is.’ ‘ Exactly; I see. And his salary, Madam ?’ ‘ It is said to be $1,200 a year.’ ‘And not pay his board bill?’ ‘As you see, sir—this has been standing five months, unpaid. Three days lienee, he will draw his monthly pay; and I thought if you would be kind enough to ’ 4 Yes, I have it. Go to him again, and get his note at thirty days.’ ‘llis note, sir ! It wouldn’t be worth the paper on which it was written, he pays no one a dollar voluntarily.’ ‘But he will give you his note, will he not, Mad am ?’ ‘ Oh, yes—he would be glad to have a respite in that way for a month, no doubt.’ ‘ That’s right, then. Go to him obtain his note, at thirty days from to-day, give him a receipt in full, and come to me this evening.’ The lady departed, called upon the youg lark, dunned him for tlie amount—at which he only smil ed —and finally asked him to give her his note for it. ‘To he sure,’ said he, ‘give a note —sart’n. And much good may it do you, muin.’ ‘You’ll pay it when it falls due, won’t you, sir— thirty days hence.’ ‘O, yes —sart’n, of course I will; I always pay my notes, mum, I do!’ and as the lady departed, the knowing gent believed he had accomplished a very neat trick, once more. ‘ I wonder what the deuce she’ll do with that note? Gad! I’d like to settle some of the other accounts in the same way. Hope she’ll have a good time get ting the money on that bit of paper. John Smith is rather too well known for that ?’ And he turned with a chuckle, to his book again. Tlie poor boarding house-keeper called again up on tlie General a few hours afterwards. ‘Did you get the note, Madam?’ ‘ Yes, sir—here it is.’ The President quickly turned it over, and with a dash of his pen, wrote the name of Andrew Jackson upon the back of it. ‘Take this to tlie bank to-morrow morning, Mad am, and you can get the money for it,’ lie said hur riedly. The lady acted accordingly, and found no difficul ty in obtaining the cash for it Tit sight. A week before that month’s termination, Mr. John Smith received a notice to the following effect: Bank of ’Washington, , 1832. Sir: Your note for seventy dollars, is due on the 2*7th inst., at this Bank, and you are requested to call .and pay the same. ‘ Ha, ha!’ screamed John, upon reading this brief note. ‘A capital joke that. Can’t come it mum— can’t no how. Scarecrow-—left for collection—l un derstand—won’t do—no go!’ And John very soon forgot it. But pay day came round again—and John took his monthly stipend once more, SIOO, from the cash ier of the department, as usual. As he passed down the Avenue, the unpaid board bill suddenly entered his head. ‘Who the deuce, now, lias been fool enough to help the old ’oornan in this business, I wonder ?’ said John to himself. 4 ‘ Gad ! I’ll go and see. It’s all a hum, I know ; but I’d like to know if she has really fooled anybody with that bit o’ paperand entering the bank, he asked for the note ‘left there for collection against him.’ ‘ It was discounted,’ said the teller.’ ‘Discounted! who, who in this world will dis count my note ?’ asked John, amazed. ‘ Anybody, with such a backer as you have got on this.’ ‘ Backer! Me— backer, who ?’ ‘Here’s your note; you can see,’ said the teller, handing him the document—on which John instant ly recognized the bold signature of the then I’resi dent'of the United States! i^<-Sokl —by Moses !’ exclaimed John, drawing forth Hhe money with a hysteric gasp—for he saw through the management at a glance. The note was paid, of course, and justice was a warded to the spendthrift, at once. On the next morning he found upon his desk a note which contained the following entertaining bit of personal intelligence: ‘ To John Smith, Esq.: Sir: A change having been made in your office, I am directed by the President to inform you, your services will no longer be required by this depart ment.’ Yours, John Smith retired to private life, at once, and thenceforward found it convenient to live on a much smaller yearly allowance than twelve hundred a year! Female Colleges. In the Georgia Female College, the first class is called the “Freshman ” and the second tlie “So phomore.” How a young lady can possibly be a fresh man, and what gallantry there is in calling one of the divine sex a wise fool, which is the meaning of the word Sophomore, we leave to the learned pro fessors of the Georgia College to explain. The third class is called the “Junior,” which term is very well, as it includes the idea of youth, a charge acceptable to a lady at every age, but the last class is the worst of all. This is the “ Senior.” Spirit of chivalry ! what an insult to tlie sex, to apply a term indicative, though it be only comparatively, of age and experience. Know ungallant professors that all ladies, up a “certain age,” are of the same age and that there cannot possibly, by the very constitution of the sex, be any seniority among them. Now, if we were about to organize a Female Col lege, and to divide the pupils according to academic usage into four classes, we think we would adopt a different nomenclature. Our first class, which would in a great measure consist of those romping rosy cheeked eaters of bread and butter who were Byron’s aversion, should J>c the class ke “ Cherubs .” Our secutifl class, who would have possibly got tli- V-yv’-gml button, but bad not given up ‘'• >•m]. i: l e the “Hoydens.” , Ou. third class, xSLo would of course be advanc ed far beyond the rugion of girldom, and be begin ning to know anofluse their charms, should be the An ffeh” _ But for our fourth and highest class, the budders into lovely womanhood, we should go to the very top of tlie angelical hierarchy and stylo them “ Sc raphsA And thus it is that we would form our Female College. But as we never expect to be called upon to organize such an institution, we can only propose our plan to the respectable gentlemen, who are the trustees of such delightful seminaries. [Charleston Sun. Marriage trade in France. There are few of our readers who are not aware that there are in Paris, a number of offices in which forlorn Benedicks and fair dames in a state of sin gle blessedness, may for a consideration have them selves duly provided with partners for life ; few, per haps will believe that people of respectable position in society, and even of rank, have recourse to these matrimonial agencies. Such however is the fact, and you will see it proved by the report of a case in the newspapers, in which M. Foy, the great marriage broker is represented as having got judgment from a law court against a dishonest client, for £4OO, for having negotiated the marriage of the niece of a marquis. The marriage brokers, and this man Foy espe cially are accustomed to advertise their establish ment day after day, in the newspapers; and their calling is as perfectly recognized by the authorities, as that of an upholsterer, a coal dealer, a lawyer, or a physician. Does not this reveal a curious state of society \ “M. Foy, there’s a guinea; I want to be married; the girl must be handsome, young, respectable, and have money.” “My dear sir,” says Foy, “you have just called in the nick of time; Baron Bingo de Binko sent for me yesterday to marry his daughter. Go to her—there is the address—my fee S2OO. The bearer presents himself to the Baron states his business —describes his position —and is accept ed. The baron then rings for his daughter. “My dear,” says he, “this Baron Bingo de Binko, whose ancestors distinguished themselves in the Cru sades, and having been ruined by the Revolution, their descendants took to making candles, and have amassed money, you will marry him my dear.” “Very well, pa,”says the damsel. “Oh, joyful day,” cries the baron, and he kissed the tips of the lady’s fingers. “ When shall the cer emony be ?” says he. “ Oh, not too soon,” replies the young lady, with a modest blush; “ not before the day alter to-morrow, decidedly !” “Be it so, idol of my heart,” cries the baron, and he hurries off to order dresses, prepare deeds, and bring the ring. At the day after to-morrow the thing is done. That, Isay, is the wav in which mar riages are concocted; and I ask, can anything be more charmingly expeditious ? No love-making, no heart-breaking, no weeping, no difficulties, every thing is as simple and easy as the buying of a pairot gloves! Nor is it only the advertising and broker like Foy Cos., wdio make it a business to negotiate marriages; in private society, also, there are a set of people, male and female, who devote themselves to the same branch of industry, not from any abstract enthusiasm for the marriage state, or desire to pro mote the happiness of the unwedded, but to put money in their purses. In fact, marriage in France is a thing of a mere barter and trade, just as much as buying horses or treacle in England. Even the marriages which are effected without the instrumen tality of a broker, or a quasi-broker, are so; money convenience—fire the only things thought of on ei ther side. And with such hot haste are weddings sometimes patched up, that it is a positive tact that bride and bridegroom at the altar scarcely know each other. I, myself am acquainted with a married la- dy who swears that when she went to to church on her wedding day, she knew so little of lier destined husband, that if she had been directed to pick him out from a half dozen men, she could not have doue so! et there are people who are astonished that in France there is so much immorality in vved ded life! They should rather be surprised that with such an abominable system, morality is to be found at all. Curious, if So. A young lady who writes a very exemplary hand, has sent us extracts from her ‘Journal’ expressive of her feelings on various subjects. She writes well, though there is only one of the extracts for which we can, at present, make room. To those who can only* be givers of happiness, authentic experience, communicated by r the receivers, is naturally interest ing; and we therefore have great pleasure in laying before the ‘squeezers,’ among our readers, the fol lowing confession as to the emotions of the ‘jsqueez ed? * * % * * * December, 7.—What an immense difference it makes who squeezes one’s hand ! A lady may twine her arm around your waist, press a kiss on your brow, or, holding your hand in hers, toy* with your fingers to her heart’s content, but you are perfectly calm and collected, and experience no unusual sensations, either disagreeable or otherwise. Perchance a gen tleman whom you dislike, or feel but slightly ac quainted with, ventures to press your hand ; you snatch it quickly away, the indignant blood mounts to your forehead, and, with flashing eyes, you won der ‘how the impertinent fellow dares to do such a thing!’ Rather an antiquated specimen of human ity squeezes your hand; you feel mortified for your self and him, mortified that a man of his years should make such a fool of himself, that he should think you can really like such nonsense, and, above all, that he believes it possible that you can like him, vexed at what he had done, and determined that an opportu nityshall never be afforded him of doing so again. You place your hand confidingly in that of an ac cepted, acknowledged lover; you are not excited or confused, you have ceased blushing continually in his presence, you experience a feeling of quiet hap piness, a ‘little heavcn-upon-carth sort of feeling,’ you are perfectly contented with everything in this terrestrial world, especially your lover and yourself; and yet, withal, it is a foolish feeling, as you sit with his arm twined around you —that manly arm in which is to guard and support you through life, a soft, rosy, happy tint suffuses your face, as your hand is clasped in his, ah, it is a blissful, foolish feel ing? But let someone w hom you like .very much, not an accepted lover, but one who may, perhaps, be one, one of these days, gently enclose your hand in his own; what a strange, wild, joyful, painful feel ing thrills through you ! The hot blood leaps, danc ing, tumbling through your veins,pushes to your temples, tingles at your ringers’-ends! your heart goes bump, bump, surely, you think, he must hear it throbbing! for the life of you, you cannot speak. After letting your hand remain in his just long e nough to show you’re not offended, you gently w ith drawit; but perchance if it is taken again, after a faint ‘don’.t do so,’ which is answered with a still clos er pressure, with downcast eyes and blushing cheek, you let the little hand, this first bright earnest of other things to come, thrilling and burning with this new ecstatic emotion, remain all tremblingly in its resting-place.— lfome Journal. Autumnal Thoughts.— The Falling Lcnf —A few days since, says the New York Journal of Com merce, we were startled at hearing of the death of a little, boy, son of our friend, whose face lias been like a gleam of happiness wherever he w audered. lie was, verily, a noble boy, gifted with pre-eminent beauty, having especially a high forehead, lit, not shaded, by the golden hair which hung luxuriantly around it. With the first day of Autumn he died. There is anew cemetery in King’s county, near Williamsburg, called the Evergreens, which, as now laid out, presents one of the pleasantest resorts in the neighborhood of the city. In these grounds the boy had been accustomed to ride, and, not unfro quently, asked his father to take him out to the ce metery. He has gone there now to rest under the trees. As we stood by his grave, a single leaf, premature ly withered, came from a tree at a distance anil fell on the mound. It was the first falling leaf of au tumn, and tlie precursor of desolation to tlie forest. The first thought was that the leaf w as like the boy, fallen too soon ; but the next was that the leaf was an incident of earth and time, while lie was away be yond all succession of autumn and winter, beyond all these scenes marked by decay, and dotted here and there with grave mounds, in a land of everlast ing spring-time. To use the words of a friend (who speaks of himself,) he has learned ‘how pleasant it is to lie down and rest forever; to shudder no more at the slow coming on of disease; to toss no more all the long night only to find the morning more deso late. ‘Forevor and forever with those just souls and true! Then what is life that we should moan, why make we such ado?’ A Beautiful Flower. —A friend presented us a day or two,since with a curiosity in the shape of a flower, which we think is one of the greatest won ders of the floral kingdom we have ever seen. It is about the size of a walnut, perfectly white, with tine leaves resembling very much indeed the wax plant. Upon the blooming of the flower, in cup formed by the leaves is the exact image of a dove lying on its back, with its wings extended. The beak of tlie bill and the eyes are plainly to be seen, and a small leaf, before the flower arrives at maturity, forms the out spread tail. This leaf can be raised or shut down with the fingers without breaking or apparently in juring it, until the flower reaches its full bloom, w hen it drops off. \Ye regret our inability to give a tech nical description of this curiosity at this time, but hope to do so shortly, as one has been promised us by a jiierson every way qualified to write it — Pa nama Star. It is said that Capt. Erricson is engaged in produc ing a steam carriage for use upon plank roails, bv w hich immense loads may be transported at a good speed, with a small cost. Fitteen years ago, many attempts were made in England to produce a steam carriage suitable to use upon common roads, but no experiment resulted profitably. Either the expense of the power, or the softness of the roads prevented the practical introduction of the machines, though many successful steam journies were performed. — There seems to be no good reason, why .steam power cannot be successfully used on our plank roads; and wp have no dgubt it soon will he. Phenomena of 1 >efective Vision. —One of the earliest evidences of old age is defective sight, and the opinions hitherto held respecting ’he causes of this have been various. A letter has appeared iu the London, Edinburgh and Philosophical Magazine, from a Mr. li. T. Cranmore, England respecting a discovery made by him, which will appear singular to many,because the flattening of the corn, a has hith erto been held to be the cause of loss of vision, dr this is the reason why convex glasses are employed to restore it, and we believe this is the principle upon which Professor Bronson acts to restore sight—but Mr. Cranmore, who has been defective in vision, states that lie took a card and made tw o fine holes, exactly iu the position of the centres of the pupils of his eves, and he found that he saw the true image as correctly as he ever did in his life; to use his own expression, it supplied the place of a pair of spectacles. By making the pin holes larger or smaller, the fis cal distance was increased or diminished proportion ally. In sunshine he can read at the natural focal distance, but with faint light there is the common confusion of letters. A flattening of the cornea won’t explain this; he thinks the cause to be‘some want of contractility engendered in old age in the iris.’ There is one curious fact which he has observed, viz: that fine w ire-gauze, of l-f>o of an inch in diameter, in meshes, enables him when worn close to the eye, to read small print with great facility, at the dis tance of six inches, and when the meshes are still closer, lie can see the most minute objects with re markable distinctness. This is something for our optical instrument makers. There is an independent citizen in Vermont, who sprits sheep and oxen thus : Cheep and Ockson. Tins is the same individual who in a public place remarked:—“As for having orthography and other sieh high branches taught in a common school, he went agin it.” lie is no relation to the boy, the first line of w hose school essay was, “ £Jyca tion is the best thing ever a man got himself into !” A disappointed old bachelor, out west, say ‘it makes little difference whether a man commits suicide or matrimony ! In one ease he loses his life, and in tlie other, his breeches.’ It is said that’ llarnum is in full chase of a chap who helped bis own wife at the dinner-table, in preference to another lady. A Frenchman unacquainted with business once received a draft payable in three days sight at a certain bank. The first day he presented himself at the counter, and taking the draft, from his pocket lxxk, extended it before the eyes of the pay ing teller, and to his astonishment said, ‘you see thkt once,’ and folding the draft he walked away. The next morning he appeared again, and going through the same form, said ‘you see that twice.’ The third day he appeared again and said foth a triumphant smik.- at his own shrewdness, ‘you seo himuAree time. B v Gar you will pay him.’ Abetter passed through the Shields Post-Office, a short time ago, ‘For Betsy Robinson, a Scotch woman will! Ono Eye, Carey Bank, North Shields.’ ‘ llow is your son to-day ?’ askedra friend of a stock-’ broker. ‘Very bad,’ replied the old gentleman, striving to com pose his agitated features; ‘very bad indeed ! I would not give ten percont for his ehanee of life.’ ‘ B no took care of the babies ?’ artlessly inquired a little girl, on hearing her mother say that 1 all people were onto children. A political orator w ittily compared our party promises to‘ western roads, which opened stately enough with planted trees on either side, to tempt the traveller, but sOou became narrower and narrower, and ended in- a squirrel-track, and ran up a tree. So does culture with as ; it ends in head ache. Miss Tucker says it’s with old bachelors as with old woui.- It is hard to get them started, but when they* and take dame,, they burn prodigiously, To w rite a love letter with flow'ers, you must make use of lillies, roses and poppies. The two former as emblematic of the young people; and the latter to indicate what 1 uis hands may expect to come to within a year after- the ntootse tied. A newspaper mr.t be destroyed at night it may light a se gar or it may curl a lady's hair. Ah! only think of that girls. An editor's ideas completely, sweetly and exquisitely wreathed in with your rich tresses, and—yfcs, and nestling down with you in your midnight slumbers,--to gently guard and peacefully keep watch over your happy dreams. Jeru salem ! who would not be—an editor. An incorrigible old maid living upon slender means cut the acquaintance of a friend becauso he advised her to 1 hus band her resources.’ When Iladdix’s wife kicked him’ out of bed. says he— ‘See here, now 1 you had better not do that again. If you do, it will cause a coolrjfcss.’ Wisdom and virtue are the greatest beauty; but it is an advantage-to a diamond to be i cell set. Dr Pease was once at a dinner, when just as the cloth was removed, the subject of discourse chanced to be that of ex traordinary mortality among the barristers. ‘We hare lost,’ said a gentleman, ‘six eminent barristers in six months.’— The dean, who was quite deaf, rose at this moment, and gave the company grace—‘For this and every olheroHcrcy, make us truly thankful.’ Dox’t.—Don’t get tipsy; don't smoke immoderately, or in the ladies’ faces; d&i't quarrel with your friends; don't fancy yourself the nicest man in Christendom ; don’t des pise the poor; don ! t condemn anybody unheard ; don’t strike a man beyond your reach ; don't pay particular attention to more ’.has one lady ; and don’t forget to pay the printer! ‘ You have painted my wife, listening to the angels; you. ought to have represented the angels listening to her,’ Mrs. B. sprung up and threw her arms round her husband’s neck and k (1 him, which in these times of conjugal in fidelity we think he deserved. Here is a brace of epigrams from the April number of Blackwood , which are worth the room they occupy, more than we can say of most epigrams, so called : Bait, hook, and hair, are used by angler fine; Emma's bright hair alone, were, bait, hook, line. P’araday was the first to- elicit the ek-tric spark from the . magnet; he found that it is visible at the instant of breaking and of renewing the contact of Conducting wires; and only then. Around the magnet, Faraday Is sure that Volta's lightnings play; Hut how to draw them from the wire ? He took a lesson from the heart: ’Tis when we-nieet, ’tis when we part, Breaks iorth the electric fire. Religion is like the firmament: the more one searches it the more stars are seen ; it is like the sea ? the more one views it the more boundless it appears. No religion that persecutes is godly, persecuting religion, is killing love.— Krumtndcker . NO. 43.