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YOL. 2. K 3Busiurss Carts h 7 l 7 vzmn7 DAS UERREOTYPIST, OTACON, GA. gST ENTRANCE FROM THE AVENUE. aprl9 t s HAIUROAD HOUSE, OPPOSITE CENTRAL RAILROAD DEPOT EAST MACON. * T ts S. M. LANIER. jack mows. attorney at law, BUENA VISTA, MARION CO., OA. aprl2 ly P. G. ARRINGTON, Attorney at Law and Notary Public, Oglethorpe, IVacon Cos., dec GEORGIA. 38—ts “city hotelT SAVANNAH,•.•••.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•GEORGIA. P. CONDON. Tkrmk: —Transient Boarders, per day, $1,50. Monthly and yearly Boarders in proportion. apr s—ys—y ©§!©!! IE h* L©OIKII^AMIEj attoruri] at lam, OFFICE OVEIt BF.LDEN AND CO’s. HAT STORE, Mulberry Street, Macon, Georgia. HARDEMAN *fc HAMILTON, Ware House and Commission Merchants, .VtfCOJV, GEORGIA. HAMILTON & HARDEMAN, FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS, SAVAMMAH, GEORGIA. Will Rive prompt attention to all business committed to them at either place. THOS. HARDEMAN. ( 19—ts) CHAS. F. HAMILTON. FACTORAGE AND Savannah, Ga. WM. P. YONGE, N0.94 Bay street. Savannah, continues to transact a General Commission Business and Factor age, and respectfully solicits consignments of Cotton, Corn, and other produce. He will also attend to receiving and for warding Merchandize. — April 5, 1851 ly W. D. ETHERIDGE & Cos., FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS, SAVA.Y.YAH , GEORGIA. THE undersigned having formed a Copartnership for the transaction of the above business, tender their services to their friends and the public generally and solicit a share of patronage. We will pay strict attention to the sale of ('otton or other produce consigned to our care and all orders for Bag ging, Rope and family supplies will be promptly attended to and filled at the lowest prices. Liheral advances will be made upon Cotton or other produce consigned to us. s. r. oove, (aug-23-y) w. and. etiieridde. KAABUiN!, (FULTON & G©., Factors A Commission Merchants, aug3o SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. Gin FIELD & ADAMS, FIRE-FKOOF WAREHOUSE, MACON, GORGIA. THE undersigned will continue tin. Ware-House and Com mission Business, at the commodious and well known Fire Proof Building, formerly occupied by Dyson & Field and the past season by us. The attention of both the partners will be given to all business entrusted to their care. They respectful lly solicit the patronage of the public generally. They are pre pared to make liberal cash advances on all Cotton in store at the customary rates. FF” All orders for Groceries, Bagging and Rope will be fill ed at the lowest market prices. JOHN M. FIELD, aug9 ts A. B. ADAMS. SASH AND WINDOW BLIND Si LSA ‘OD. rpHE subscriber is manufacturing the above articles by j. Steam Machinery, at very moderate prices. TURNING AND PLANING. He has machinery for this business, and will promptly exe cute any jobs in this line. ALEX. McGRRGOR. july26 —bin FIRE INSURANCE BY THE COMMERCIAL INSURANCE COMPANY OF CHARLESTON S. C. CAPITAL S2SO,OOO—ALL PAID IN. Wit. ]). Heriot, Pres A. M. Lee. See y. Directors : James K. Robinson, Geo. A. Trenholm, Robert Caldwell, A. R. Taft, Henry T. Street, Win. Mcßurney, f. H. Brawley, T. L Wragg. it IMIE subscribers having been appointed Agents for the 1 above Company, are now prepared to take risks against Fire, on favorable terms. CARHART, BRO. & CO, june2t Agents. DRS. BANKS Ac ROOSEVELT tender their professional services to the citizens of Macon and sur . rounding country. Residence on College Hill, the house formerly occupied by Charles Day. Offiee on the corner of Third and Walnut slreet. w. H. BANKS, M. D. (sfipt6-V) C. J. ROOSEVELT, M. D. R. G. JEFFERSON A CO. MANCrACTURER AND WHOLESALE DEALERS IN CHAIRS, West Side Broad St., first door above P. MLarins, COLUMBUS, GA. THEY keep on hand an excellent supply of Office, Wood Seat, Split Bottom and Rocking Chairs; Bedsteads, Wood en Ware, &c. \u Orders left as above, will meet with prompt atten tion. novl—tf W. S. WILLIFORD, COMMISSION MERCHANT AND AUCTIONEER, Macon, Ga. All kinds of Produce and Merchandise, (except liquors) re ceived on consignment. sep27 S. & R. P. HALL, ATTORNEYS AT LAW , Macon, Ga. OrncE on Cotton Avenue, over Little’s Drug Store, (octll) Notice. ALL persons indebted to the late firm of TAYLOR & ROFF by open account or note, are solicited to call at the old stand and settle without delay. noI-2m TAYLOR 4t ROFF. Dry Goods and Groceries, THE subscriber offers for sale at his < Id stand on Cotton Avenue, a general assortment of feta, le and Fancy Dry Goods, consisting in part of the following articles: Cassimeres, Broadcloths, Alapacas, DeLains, Calicoes and Homespuns, Ready made Clothing and Jewelry. Also a fine supply of Groceries, and almost every other ar ticle suited to city and country customers. His goods are re caived at short intervals, and may be relied upon as being both fresh and fashionable, and are ofibred very low for Cash, octll—6m GEO. EHRLICH. YVriHAUESALE j) ry Goods, Groceries, Hardware &c. \\ at low prices and reasonable terms or liberal discount ° r rash. (oct4) S. F. DICKINSON/ & PRINTING PRESS FOR SALE. A GOOD second hand Imperial PRINTING zY PRESS, in good order, will be sold a bar- P ain ’ on immediate application at this Office. It is large enough to work a paper of the size of the “Georgia Citizen.” MERCHANT TAILORING ESTABLISHMENT. THE subscriber respectfully informs his aumerous patrons and the public generally, that he is now receiving at his Store onCottcn Avenue, next doorabove Ur. Wm. G. Little's Drug Store, a splendid assortment of French and English BROAD-CLOTHS, Cassimeres and Vestings, embracing the latest and most desirable styles of the season,such as Scotch, Tartan Plaid, French and English plain,black, figured and fan cy Doeskins, Velvets, Plush, Grenadine, London figured em broidered Silks and Cassiinere Vestings, which he will sell by the Pattern, or make to order, in the latest and best style, at a reduction from former prices of at least ten per cent, for cash in all cases. sep27 THOS. F. NEWTON. F.IXS, of fine, medium and common qualities, a large supply at E. J .JOHNSONS’ 2 ’ Ml Belden’s Late Style of Moleskin HATS. Also, Genin’s Fall Styles, a good article. sept 27 UEI.DEN & CO. Fol>l>’s Digest. THE above Digest of the Laws of Georgia, for sale at aug‘23 BOA RDM AN’S. Sign of the Big Boot 1 j . THE subscribers thank- F II I fu! for past favors, and so il ** I licitous for a continuance ■, of the same, would respect- I fully inform their friends public generally that they have now in store, one of the largest and best select ed stock of BOOTS and SHOES, mostly of their own manufacture, of all the various kinds and qualities usually called for, to which they would invite the attention of all those wishing to purchase, and we assure all those that call that we a re prepared to sell as low as any House in the city or State, all which is warranted as us ual- oct 18 MIX Sc KIUTLAND. GENTS’ Fine French Calf Boots, Welted and Pump >o!es, also Gents’ Fine Double and Single Soled Boots, ust received, and for sale by MIX & KIRTLAND. RUBBERS —Those wishing a very superior article in the Rubber line, are informed that we have in store a large supply of L. Camlee Rubbers which are thought by com petent judges, to excel any thing of the kind in the United States, in style and fineness of finish, for sale low by °ct!B .MIX & KIRTLAND. iNotice. THE proprietor oft he Crockery Store, in this city, is induced, snle- from interested motives, to give -izjM notice to the public generally, that after this day no goods will be sold on a CREDIT. oct 18 CEO. JONES. Piano Forte atid Organ Tuning:and Repairing;. 08. RICE would inform h's patrons, that Macon is to . be his permanent home, all reports to the contrary not withstanding. He has bought a house and lot in Vineville. He is now ready to tune and repair Piano Fortes, Organs, Seraphims, ADolian Attachments, and Melndians. Pianos tuned in the city for $5, only for those who employ him regu arly every year Pianos tuned by the year for $lO. All re pairs extra. It is very hard for some to understand the diffe rence between tuning and repairing. Tuning, is making the string harmonize, by drawing them to certain tensions, with a tuning key. All other operations, are repairing—such as re-leathering the hammers,putting on new strings, putting on new cloth on the dampers and key lied, putting in new jack spring, re leathering the levers,&c„&c. Mr. R. will examine instruments, and make known his charge for putting them in order, if any desire it. Names may be left at Messrs. Virgins, or Mr. S. B. Day’s. oct2s GROCERY, PROVISION AND rlllUT STORE. ejjEjl THE subscriber feels thank- Z3E3E3 “.i-'Sj to his friends for past favors, jf fl and would inform them that W* Ek he still continues the Gro- IfewlllSb cery, Provision and Fruit Business in front of the angle of 2d St. and Cotton Avenue, Macon, Ga. On hand, and constantly receiving New York Ilams, Smoked Beef, Dried and Pickled Tongues, Mackerel No 1.2 and 3, Pickled Beef, (Fulton Market) Pig and Mess Pork, Sugar, Coffee, Molasses Syrup, Rice, Tea, Potatoes, Onions, Raisins, Prunes, Dates, Nuts of all kinds, Cheese, Crackers, Vinegar, Lamp-Oil, Mustard, Lard, Butter, Flour, Soap. Candles, Candies, Segars, Lillenthrals 11. Johns, Hurry of the West, Four Aces, and Spencers best Chewing Tobacco, for sale by (oct 8) J. S. GRAYBILL. New Goods! New Goods! WM. B. FERRY & CO. DEALERS IN Triangular Clock, (near Logan’sl!or.) fARE now receiving their Fall and Win ter Stock embracing all the most rich and desirable Goods to be found in the market North, which will be offered to the trade at _ reduced prices. The citizens of Macon and thes irrounding country are respectfully invited to call and ex amine their Goods. sept 27 GROCERIES! (JOOCERJESn CIARIIART, IIRO. & CO., now have in Store, ) and are and illv receiving a very large and selected stock of GROCERIES of every description, which they will sell on the best terms for CAS Hot approved names.and to which they invite the attention of Merchants, Planters and Consu mers. They will at aF times be found at their Store, prepared to give their personal attention toCustoiners. f'lp’ No Drummers employed to annoy Merchant* and Planters at the Ware-Houses and Hotels. sept 6 ts CARHART BRO. & CO. Likenesses! I C. W. PARK ER has retumed’to - *■■** \, ac on, and taken Rooms over Dr. Little’s Drug Store, where he is prepared to take LIKEN ESSES in the best style of the art, at low prices. octlß JEW DAVID’S HEBREW PLASTER. THE great remedy for Rheumatism, Gout, Pain in the Side Hip, Back, Limbs and Joints ; Scrofula, King’s Evil, White Swelling, Hard Tumors, Stiff Joints and all fixed pains whatev er. Where this Plaster is applied, Pain cannot exist. It has been beneficial in cases of weakness, such as Pain and Weak ness in the Stomach, Weak Limbs, Lameness, Affection O’ the Spine, Female Weakness, tec. No female, subject to pain or weakness in the back or sides, should be without it. Married ladies, in delicate situations, find great relief from constantly wearing the Plaster. The application of the Plaster between the shoulders has been found a certain remedy for Colds, Coughs, Phthisic, and Affec tion of the Lungs in their primary stages. It destroys inflama tion by perspiration. The following commendation is from an agent residing at Trenton, Tenn.: Trenton, Gibson Cos. Tenn. Nov. 7, ’49. Messrs. Scovil A Mead —Gentlemen : The Hebrew Plaster is becoming popular in this section. There is a lady in this county who says she would not be without the Plaster for five hundred dollars a year. She was agjicted for some time with an enlargement of the spleen, which gave her great pain. The swelling and pain had extended up nearly to the armpit, and occasionally she could hardly breathe. She was confined for a considerable time, during which she was attended by some of our best physicians, but they gave no relief. She procured a box of the Hebrew Plaster, and it relieved her almost immediate ly, and now she keeps a supply of it on hand constantly.— These facts you are at liberty to use as you think proper—they are substantially true. Respectfully, yours, kc n JESSE J. WELLS. Beware of Counterfeits and Base Imitations! Caution.—The subscribers are the only general agents in the Southern States for the sale of this truly valuable Plaster ; and in order to prevent purchasers being imposed upon by a counter feit article, sold in this city and elsewhere, for the genuine, they invite particular attention to the following marks of the genu ine : 1. The genuine is put up in smooth, engine-turned bottomed boxes, soldered in. 2. The genuine has the engraved head of Jew David on the directions around the box, with accompanying record of court to E. Taylor, Rochester. ALSO TAKE NOTICE That the genuine has the signature of E, TAYLOR on the steel plate engraved label, on the top of each box— to imitate which, will be prosecuted as forgery. The Counterfeit is coarsely put up, in imitation of the old label, and is sold by several dealers in medicine in this city for the genuine article. BEWARE OF IT—IT IS WORTHLESS. SCOVIL Sc MEAD, 113 Chartres St, N. Orleans. Only Agents for the Southern States, to whom all orders and ap plication for agencies must invariably be addressed. Sold al so by Payne & Nisbet, E. L. Strobecker and J. H. & W. J. EUis, Macon, Ga. novi “Mfptont in all tilings—Unttral in notjjing.” MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 27, 1851. The Modern Belle. Extract from Mr. Stark's Poem, read at the late Manchester , N. H. Fair. The daughter site in the parlor, And rocks in her easy chair She’s clad in her silks and satins, And jewels are in her hair— She winks and giggles and simpers, And simpers and giggles and winks. And though she talks but a little, ’Tis vastly more than she thinks. Her father goes clad in his russet, And ragged and seedy at that— Ilis coats are all out at the elbow, He wears a most shock ing bad hat. He’s hoarding and saving his shillings, So carefully day by day, While she, on her beaux and poodles, Is throwing them all away. She lies a-bed in the morning, Till nearly the hour of noon ; Then comes down snapping and snarling, Because she was called so soon ; Her hair is still in the papers, Her cheeks still dabbled with paint, Remains of her last night’s blushes, Before she intended to faint. She doats upon men unshaven, And men with “the flowing hair,’’ She’s eloquent over moustaches, They give such a foreign air. She talks of Italian music, And falls in love with the moon, And tho’ but a mouse should meet her, She sinks away in a swoon. Her feet are so very little, Her hands are so very white, Her jewels are so very heavy, And her head so very light; Her color is made of cosmetics, Though this she never will own, Her body's made mostly of cotton, Her heart is made wholly of stone. She falls in love with a fellow, Who swells with a foreign air, He marries her for her money, She marries him for his hair ; One of the very best matches— Both are well mated in life, She’s got a fool for her husband, He’s got a fool for his wife. The Dangers of Flirtation. ‘The world would hardly be worth living in if it were not for flirtations,’ exclaimed the gay and thoughtless Isabel Lee, as she laughing ly entered her aunt's room. Her aunt, a sober, beautiful, middle-aged la dy, raised her large eyes, with a sorrowful ex pression, to the young girl's glowing face. ‘I hope you are not serious,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing like flirtations!’ cried the merry Isabel. ‘But you look repreachful angry ’ ‘Gli, I am not angry,’ replied Mrs. Berford, with a melancholy smile. ‘But you are not pleased ?’ ‘Your words awaken recollections which cause me to feel sad, Isabel; that is all. Sit down here by my side, and you will hear a sto ry of one of my flirtations which may change your mind.’ Isabel sat down, looking thoughtful, and her aunt continued : ‘When I was young like you, dear child, I was quite as gay and thoughtless as yourself, I was called a coquette, and, I shame to confess it, glorified in the name, until the occurrence of the painful events I am about to relate.— Half-a-dozen times a year I used to visit C , and spend a week or two in the pleasant socie ty of our friends in that place. There, I fre quently met a pale, handsome, sensitive young man, named Gilborne, who paid me flattering attentions, making me the theme of numerous poetic effusions, and with whose partiality I was very well pleased. I was warned by many well meaning friends against encouraging the addresses of so impulsive a person as Gilborne, who, they said, was more serious than I, and who might end by falling more deeply in love with me than I expected or desired. I laugh ed at the idea, and finding the attentions of the young poet still agreeable, continued to receive them until it was too late. ‘Too late ! How so, aunt ?’ ‘Why, to my astonishment he one dav made a passionate declaration of love, and offered me his hand!’ ‘And you did not love him ?’ ‘No, child. I was merely pleased with him. But even then I did not suppose that his love was more than the result of a sudden impulse, which would pass away with my visit toC . So I respectfully declined his offer, laughed at the idea of my marrying at that age, and begged him to dismiss the subject from his mind. On the following day I left C and returned home. Letters and poetry followed me, breathing the most passionate devotion, and burning with the eloquence of love. They bore no name, but I knew they came from Henry Hilborne; and I was beginning to be much annoyed. I took counsel with my friends, and resolved to send all future epistles back to him unopened. I returned two letters in this manner, and received no more; but three or four weeks afterwards I received a newspapa per, in which there was a sonnet addressed to me under a fictitious name, and sgned with his initials. He had discovered anew mode of reaching me with his passionate effusions; and from that time a sonnet or a song, signed by ‘H. G came to me in the G Gaxette nearly every week. At this time Mr. Berford was paying me bis addresses; he was one of nature’s noblemen—frank, generous, firm in what he considered right, and a gentleman in his manners. Having learned a lesson from the unhappy termination of my last flirtation, I received Mr. Berford’s attentions in a different manner from what I had been accumstomed to do, and in a short time we were married. I loved Mr. Berford —Gilborne was at the moment quite forgotten, and I was perfectly happy. I had not a thought to disturb my peace of mind —the calm repose of my heart, which I had so willingly, gladly given away—until, as we were passing from the church, my eyes fell upon a wild, haggard figure standing near the door. It was Gilborne! His face was deathly pale, his lips ashy, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural brightness, and he trembled in every limb. I started, uttered a suppressed cry, and, shud dering, clung to my husband's arm. A pang went through my heart—a pang of remorse and dread, which I shall never forget. ‘What is the matter Edward asked. 1 could not reply. But he saw my eyes fixed upon the haggard object in the doorway, and knew why I shud dered for I had told him something of my un fortunate flirtation. ‘ls that Gilborne ?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ I murmured. By this time all eyes were fixed upon the wretched man. It was not his pale face and wild eyes alone that attracted attention ; his dress was disarranged, his long dark hair fell in disordered locks about his cheeks, and his garments were covered with the dust of travel. But while all eyes were fixed on him, his eyes were fixed on me alone ; and in my alarm and confusion, I felt the blood at first forsake my then burn in them like fire. Gilborne fell back as we approached the door, bowed solemnly, with his hand upon his heart, while we parsed out. I was glad to lose sight of him; and I ardently hoped that his passion would now be cured. But this im age, as he stood there in the doorway, haunted my brain and it was many hours before I could compose myself. I was beginning how ever, to feel at ease again in the midst of our wedding guests, when a domestic came to me to say that a person wished to see me in the hall. Thinking it was some invited friend who had arrived at a late hour, I hastened to the door alone. Imigine my consternation when I saw the wild figure of Gilborne standing before me ! ‘How do you do V he asked, addressing me by mv maiden name. ‘Won t you skaue hands with me?’ I gave him my hand. ‘You tremble,’ said he, fixing his wild eyes upon my face. ‘You are not afraid of me, I hope ?’ Oh, no, I replied, in an agitated voice; for his strange manner frightened me. ‘Why should Ibe afraid ? Come in.’ ‘No, thank you ; you have company, I see, and I may make one guest too many. And you see lam not dressed for a party,’ said he, glancing at his disordered at tire. ‘Soyou will excuse me. Ha, ha! would’nt I cut a pretty figure ? ‘But I cannot talk with you here,’ said I. ‘Oh, I will not detain you a minute! I have—ha, ha! I have a question to ask which is really so absurd, when I think of it, that I can’t help laughing ! They told me,’ he said in a pleasant, confidenti: 1 tone, ‘they told me, ha, ha! think of the absurdity of the thing; they told me that you were married!’ And he burst into a wild laugh. ‘I knew better,’ he continued ; ‘but they said it was so ; and to satisfy them I determined to come and ask you; for I suppose you ought to know, if anybody. — \ou are not married ! 11a, ha, ha! I had such a queer dream ! I thought I was standing in the church door, and saw you coming out with your husband; and you would not speak to me. Wasn’ it queer? and I knew all the time you would never marry anybody but me. — But who is here to-night ? I never saw you dressed so beautifully before ! Oh ?’ he ad ded, striking his forehead, ‘I dreamed you were dressed so at your wedding.’ ‘Thus the wretched man went on, sometimes laughing, and sheddiijftg tears. I knew he was insane; 1 tried tostoYhim, but, was too much frightened to speak. In my Agitation 1 took hold of the hell wire and rang. A domestic cante ; and I sent her in haste to Mr. Berford. ‘Berford! Who is he!’ cried Gilborne, grasp ing my arm. ‘They told me that was the name ot your husband ! Say—you are —you are not married, are you?—‘Yes, Mr. Gilborne,’ 1 re plied, trembling so that I could hardly speak. ‘I am married and here is my husband.’ To my great relief, I saw Mr. Berford advance into the hall. Gilborne started hack, and fixed his eyes upon my husband with a wild and fierce expression, which caused me to fear for him. But Edward was undaunted. Returning Gil borne’s gaze with a calm, steady, commanding look, he advanced towards him, and demanded what he wanted. The dangerous spirit of the , insane man was completely subdued. He hung his head and burst into tears. ‘Nothing,’ he murmured ;‘I want nothing now ! I have been dreaming. I will not trouble you again. May you be happy ?’ lie turned and staggered , out of the door; and I heard his unsteady foot steps die away in the distance. ‘Poor wretch!’ muttered Edward, as he kindly took my hand; ‘he is to be pitied ! But you are agitated: I hope,’ he added, in an anxious tone, ‘I hope you have nothing to blame yourself for in this mat ter !’ ‘I wish I had not!’ I exclaimed fervent ly. ‘But oh, Edward, I feel that I have acted wrong, although heaven knows I never intend ed he should love me!’—‘Well, do not reproach yourself too severely,’he replied, in a mournful voice. ‘Let us go back to the parlor, and forget what has taken place.’ We returned together, and Edward’s presence alone sustained me for the rest of the evening. Fear, pity, and re morse made my heart taint and my cheek pale, and I was wretched.’ •I think I understand your feelings,’said Isa bel, who had listened with deep interest. ‘I know how I should have felt under a conviction that any thoughtlessness of mine had ruined a . fellow being’s happiness—perhaps shattered his intellect! But you heard from Gilborne again ? ‘Listen. He disappeared. For more than a! year he was absent, and no body knew what , had become of him. At last his friends heard of a thin, haggard youth, who wandered about j the country, begging his bread from door to | door, and giving in return for charity the touch- j ing songs which he sung in a soft, melancholy ! voice, and musical tones of an accordian he car- 1 t ied about with him, and which he played with peculiar feeling and skill. Everbody treated I him kindly, for although he was evidently of in- | sane mind, there was a mildness, a melancholy ! enthusiasm about him which won all hearts. — Search was made for him. His friends were not mistaken in their snspicions. He was the wan dering Gilborne!’ ‘Oh, aunt!’ exclaimed Isabel, tears filling her eyes. ‘They carried him back toC . For sev eral weeks he seemed contented to remain at home; but at length his disposition to wander returned, and he disappeared again. One chil-1 ly rainy day, I was sitting alone in my room, 1 amusing myself with my first child, then a ! beautiful creature some six months old, when there was a ring at the door. Our domestic had gone out, and there being nobody in the house but me, I left little Ella playing on the floor and went to open the door. I started back with an exclamation of alarm. Gilborne, drench ed with the cold rain, wag standing on the steps. My first impulse was of fear, and would havp shut the the door in his face, had he not looked up at me and said, in a melancholy voice, ‘lt rains. May I come in ?’ I was touched. I held the door open while lie entered. There was a fire in the sitting room, and I made him sit down before it to dry his clothes. For ten minutes not a word was spoken by either of us; but his wild eyes followed me about the room, wherever I went. I trembled with indefinable dread ; and oh ! how ardently I longed to hear the footsteps of Edward in the hall. I tried to speak to the wretched man, but for some rea son I could not • and his eyes still followed me in silence. At length to my dismay, I heard Ella crying in the next room. Gilborne start ed. ‘ls that your child ?’ he asked. I trem bled as I replied that it was. Turning deadly pale he started from his seat, and approached the room whence the cry proceeded. Much as I feared him, I caught his arm. The thought that in a moment of frenzy he might do vio lence to my child, made me desperate. ‘You must not go there ?’ I said. I can hardly tell what followed. I remember that his eye glared upon me with a momentary blaze of maniac passion—that he pushed me from hini—that a dizzy sickness came over me, and that t fell up on the floor. When I recovered my senses, I saw him bending over my darling Ella, as she lay on the rug, gaping up with baby won der into his face. With a cry of terror I sprang forward. But my fears vanished in an instant. He raised his head. There was no frenzy in his eyes ; but tears gushed from them and rolling down his sallow cheeks, fell like rain .upon the face of my child. He kissed her, and rising from his knees, begged my pardon in a soft melancholy voice, and in words so deli cate and touching that I burst into tears. Be fore I could speak he was gone.’ ‘How singular!’ exclaimed Isabel. ‘Hear what is more singular still. From that day Gilborne’s insanity disappeared. He is now a minister in C .’ ‘ls that the man ? the pious, benevolent, mild preacher, whom every body loves so well ?’ ‘The same. lie turned to heaven the affec tions which were thrown away upon my un worthy self. I believe he is happy; but even now, when I hear of thoughtless flirtations, I am pained by the reflections they call up.’ ‘But they seldom have such a melancholy termination, dear aunt,’ timidly suggested Isa bel. ‘True. Disappointments in love generally leave sorrow in that heart without shattering the brain. But there are beings of such fine and sensitive natures, that the health of both mind and body depends upon the soundness of their affections.’ Isabel bowed her fine head to hide a blush and tear; and from that day she was never known to indulge in thoughtless flirtations. The Elevation of Mechanics. A cotemporary, in impressing upon mechanics the importance of mental culture, justly remarks, that “ Usefulness, respectability and competence are within the reach of all, no matter what may be their pursuit, if they follow it with perseverance and application, while at the same time, their line of moral conduct is exemplary, and they are dilligent to cultivate their minds. Let your yonng men think of this. The odds and ends of time, the leisure moments which are too frequently frittered away in frivolous inaction, would be immensely valuable if wisely employed in improve ment and study. Diligence and application can re deem many a moment, and appropriate it to beneficial use, which frequently is spent with heedless prodigality, or altogether misemployed. In this highly favored land, where freedom of thought prevails and man is at liberty lo follow any pursuit that promises to lead to wealth or distinction, individual effort, if properly di rected, will be invariably crowned with complete suc cess. For the development of talent and the reward of in dustry and Mechanical skill, the laws and institutions of our country are peculiarly favorable. There is no thing in the condition or circumstances of the most humble and obscure individual that necessarily, in them selves, would exclude him from even the highest office in the people’s gift, ana if proof of this might seem to be wanting, the present distinguished occupant of the Presidential Chair was himself the son of a hard working farmer, and in early life apprenticed to a wool comber, at which business he labored assiduously until he was nineteen years of age. Neither have similar examples been unfrequent— hundreds of instances might be named confirming the truth of the remarks. Washington, the illustrious “ Father of his Country,” and of the most illustrious names the world ever produced, when a youth was the chain carrier of a land-surveyor. Franklin, the states man, philosopher and diplomatist, was, as is well known, a poor and friendless printer boy. Roger Sherman, one of the committee who drafted the Declaration of Independence, and one of its signers, was an humble shoe-maker, and a self-taught man. Green, who in after life rose to eminence, and stood second only to the Chief of the revolution, was a blacksmith. Wirt was an humble schoolmaster, and was afterwards ele vated to numerous important stations, and left behind him a brilliant reputation as an author, an orator, a lawyer and a statesman. lion. Andrew Johnston, of Tennessee, recently for six years Representative in Con gress from that State, was an illiterate orphan boy, an apprentice to a tailar, and at 21 years of age unable to read or write. The late Gov. Wright of this State, for years a distinguished Senator of the United States, was, when a youth, a farmer’s boy. Gen. Houston, a Senator, Governor, and present aspirant for the Presi dential chair, was twenty-five years since, a common house carpenter. Elihu Burritt, who can read nor write more than fifty different languages, and is the most and stinguished man of the age, was a common blacksmith, and labored twelve hours a day at his anvil; and Ex-Gov. Young, a brilliant and distinguished law yer, a Representative in Congress, and the present As sistant Treasurer of the United States, began life as a country school master. The above are but a few of the many distinguished men of our country who have arisen to eminence through their own exertions, and hundreds of others in our own and other countries, might be added to the list. Sir Richard Arkwright was the son of a poor miller, and an apprentice to a barber, and by his own industry and skill acquired a fortune of $35,000. Sir Robert Peel, late prime Minister of Great Britain, and one of the richest Commissioners of England was the son of a weaver. Fergurson was one of the most dis tinguished astronomers of Europe, and was a most re markable instance of self education. At eight years of age he was a simple shepherd boy, and his father a common day laborer. Herschell, also so highly distin guished as an astronomer, was in youth a drummer s boy, to a marching regiment. One of the best editors the Westminister Review could ever boast.and one of the most brilliant writers of the passing hours, was a cooper in Aberdeen. One of the editors of a Lon don daily Journal, was a baker in Elgin ; perhaps the best reporter on the London Times, was a weaver in Edinburg, the editor of the Edinburg Witness, was a stone mason. One of the ablest ministers in London, was a blacksmith in Dundee : another was a watchma ker in Bauff; the late Dr. Milne, of China, was a herd boy in Rliynie ; the prinoipal of the London Mis sionary Society’s College at Hong Kong, was a sadler at Huntley ; and the present leading machinist of the London and Birmington Railway, was, not many years sinoe, a humble mechanic in Glasgow. These instan ces might be repeated almost indefinitely, but it is un necessary for our present purpose. In short, there is no young man, particularly in this country, to whom the gales of honor and learning are closed. Worth and merit will always show themselves, and in a com munity capable of discernment, will always be appre ciated. M e live under institutions happily adapted to foster genius and confer proper distinction upon the worthy, of whatever name or profession, and the pathway to honorable distinction is open to all. Here no royal pa tronage is required to reward the fortunate individual who happens to make a decided “hit” in mechanism or architecture. No man in this country is less worthy the honors of Knighthood, because he has not designed or constructed a ‘'Crystal Palace l” It required no gift of earthly monarch to confer upon an American citizen the title of “Sir 1” Here every m**n it a no blcinan, and none more noble than the industrious and intelligent mechanic. Here every mechanic is a free American citizen, and all who “act well their part,” i however humble their vocation, or obscure their origin, may become noblemen in reality if not in name. Then permit me to remark in closing. Let energy, perse verance and spirit, be the motto of our mechanics, “Excelsior” their rule, and firmly adhering to correct and upright principles, they must and will succeed in the attainment of the highest object of their pursuit.— Farmer and Mechanic. A Dollar a day and Foundi A gentleman who resides in the vicinity of the city, and whose early mornings are devoted to the culture of a large garden which is attached to his house, find ing himself somewhat behind in his horticultural de partment last Spring accosted a healthy-looking Irish man, who was passing his gate one morning, with the inquiry if he would like a job? ‘Sure, sir, an its the same I’m looking afther,’ said Paddy, in a rich brogue, which won the heart of him by whom he was addressed, and who immediately re plied. ‘What wages will you wish ?’ ‘Why, sir,’ returned the son of Erin, ‘as I live a good bit away from this, and my going home for males will bother me day’s work while an extra mouth at yer honor’s kitchen table is nothing at all, I'll just come for a dollar a day, and ye’re to find ine.’ This was agreed to; and as Pat had his rent to pay the next day, and wanted something for the cliilders, the gentleman paid him four dollars on the spot, and the work was to be commenced the next day. The next day, however, and the next, and then the whole four days passed by and Pat was never seen at the gar den or the gate. It might have been a month after the above occur ranee took place when the parties metting by accident in the street, Pat was accosted by his former employer in an angry tone, with— ‘Well, sir, and why the devil did you not come to work for me, according to your engagement ?’ ‘Sure, sir,’ said the Irishman, with a respectful twich at the rim of his well worn tile, ‘its tneself that was ready to do my part of the bargain ; but yer honor is at fault this time, anyhow.’ ‘And pray how ?’ asked the other. ‘lts yourself that will not deny yer honor agreed to give me a dollar a day and find me.’ ‘And didn’t I give you a dollar a dty, and pay you beforehand too ?’ ‘True for you ; yer honor did that same, ye did give me the dollar a day, but, ye didn’t find me.’ hind you, you scoundrel! I ransacked every street in town ; but where the devil were you ?’ ‘Shooting, at Muddy Pond Woods, your honor.’ The gentleman gave Pat a dollar, and told him to call at the garden when he wanted work—but be sure to hind himself. CnrrespniipnrL For the Georgia Citizen. Things .are as they should be. For we are on earth and not in Hearen, and “ the powers that bs are ordained of God.'’ In the great system of nature, so wonderfully and completely arrayed, admitting of no reproach nor im provement from us feeble, insignificant mortals, for whom all this beautiful creation was brought into be ing. where do we find a perfect blending, a perfect equality in any two extremes ? Then why, but in the pe. verseness of sin, a perverseness which must yield a harvest of forbidden fruits, will we endeavor to re model one of these laws from on high, and in its stead set up an arrangement of our own, by placing poverty upon the same lofty pedestal with wealth ? The rich and the poor are created with like qualities, though in a variable ratio, with desires which should be wholely regulated by our capacities, for if rightly directed, they will, in some measure, enable us to obtain that which we desire. In the world there must be impulse to action, to ef fort, and thus it is that we strive for the where-with to live for a sufficiency, and when this is in full possession how few are ready to say in sincerity of heart, “give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food con venient for me, lest I be full and deny thee , and say who is the Lord ? or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.’’ By a grasping propen sity man is hurried on in search of an abundance, and when he has this, he still murmurs, give me more and and yet more that my way shall be too brilliant and dazzling for poor humanity to dare approach me. The first of these gradations is marked throughout by struggles, contentions, and disappointments, each wail ing to offer obeisance before the winning smile of for tune. In the last, there is care too, but of a widely different character, so opposed to the other that there can be no congeniality between them. The man who, for the most part of a long life has been struggling to reach the top of the golden moun tain, and on his way upward, has many times made a misstep, and would have been precipitated to the bot tom, had he not saved himself by falling on those be hind him, and clasping tightly the briers and thorns that so oft have retarded his progress, when arrived at its height, perceives that the danger and difficulty is over, and that they who behold him must raise their eyes from below. Then his heart becomes inflated with the foolishness of vanity, and the vice of ingratitude; he shuns those but part way ascended, as the connect ing link between him and all the pain he has past, and scorns the extended hand as an undue tax upon his kindness and the responsive smile as an unwarranta ble impertinence. He who is rich by inheritance, is free from the gros ser materials gathered on this journey. This man knows nothing of the soil on the heart, and the morti fications in the flesh that are sorely borne, and here is the analysis of that lenient toleration of the humble , which we so often observe in individuals of this class. The recipients of an abundance have but few sym pathies in Common with these of a bare sufficiency, and wo usually find deeper rooted affections within the dwellings of the poor, than in those of the fashionable wealthy. Why then should the “Lilly’’ long to exchange her quiet pleasant vale, though she ma\ live in a just sense of unappreciated worth, for the hot-house of a “golden home,’’ where she must droop and wither from need of the balmy dews of feeling and the refresh- ing shower# of sympathy ? Turn back a leaf j n the lesson# of the past and read this in a dead tongue, vet you will not believe until you hare seen it translated on the pages of the future. It is unwise to situate <>ur selves voluntarily in full sight of our desires when we are yet unable, like the fabled Tanutlus, to reach the enjoyment of them. A fitting illustration of what l would prove, is the conjunction of two wpantlo and dwtinol fruits. I'nite i the small sour crab apple with the large and beautiful pippin. To edict this phenomenon in nature, there ! must be n direct interruption in the laws of the vegeta- I ble kingdom. The sour apple must |>ssess scene equali ty with the sweet one, it must be vigorous and health lul, and a limb must be )<>p|e<i from the pippin before there is room far the crab, when it has sopplied the I P lape f l he absent brauch, their fluids circulate fr. cly and after a season on one and the same life giving prinoiieU. The scion is now securely adapted, still its position is plainly seen, and it is a dependent upon the roots of the pippin for life, whilst the pippin | may with little injury, readily dispense with the pre sence of the engrafted crab apple. So with the rich and the poor, there must be a graft ing of interests, a mutual benefit ere there can bs a free aud unconstrained intercourse. As regards myself, had I the weakness, I might boast ! in m )’ f:lr ancestry of Lords, Earls and Marquises from whom came a long descent of schoolmasters, clerks, blacksmiths, cobblers, and tinkers, yet they were an honest race, and this is the point I keep most in view, for I do not feel myself one degree exalted by my connection with the first, nor one shade degraded by my later kindred with the last, for this truth often rises in my mind, “ Tp have respect of persons is not good, for a piece of bread that man will transgress.’’ I am of those whom the world will always have with it, yet I am content to sing rqy simple songs of melody, plaintive or joy, as the mood may be, in the shadow of my native wood, nor seek to soar in the regions of the sun. nor join in concert with the wild shrill notes of the nightingale. ARMLNDA. For the Georgia Citizen. ABSURDITIES.— GLOVES. “Small things take little minds.”—Rabelais. i Reflecting, this morning, upon the nature of I modern improvement, and upon the wisdom of the past, I was forced to sad conclusion that mankind, though wiser in great things than formerly, are, in the minor concerns ot life, as childish as ever. There seems to be the same quantity of folly mingled in the ele ments of the human pot; but the boiling and j bbnblingof ages have mixed the ingredients so* j thoroughly, that a cursory observation doe* not distinguish the lurking alloy. The com j mon run of our fashionable ladies, and the generality of would-be “haul ton ’’exquisites, whose “gorgeous vestments *• and polished manners excite envy and admiration} in the souls of less favored beholders, forcibly reining us of the old verses : “Thus one focj lolls his tongue out to another, And shakes his empty noddle at his brother,” bv the high-bred dignity and very gracious air that marks them in public from the vulgar herd. The precise period of the introduction of gloves into general use, cannot now be dis tinctly ascertained ; but we infer that their ; origin must have been very ancient, from the following remark of Rabbi’ ben Levi, in the j Talmud : “My brethren, ye will know a soft headed subject, by feeling a hand made soft by the use of hand-shoes;” and the wise old priest proceeds to inform his readers “ that such an one being too wise to use the means God has given, for the purpose God gave them.” is a very proper person to “ trade with to advantage .” And another of the same dis tinguished authorities asserts that when the Archangel Michael pitched Satan from the skies, “he would not touch the miscreant but with gloves;” which assertion, if true, their use as rather ancient. Monsieur Cau>a bon discovers several distinct notices of gloves. ! in various parts of Scripture ; and Homer describes a Grecian Brummel putting them ou to pluck a flower. But the earliest"historical mention of the animal, is made bv Varro, in describing a glutton eating with them, ‘‘that he might devour the meat while hot,” and so cheat the other guests of their fair allowance; I a better reason, by the way, than the mr.detn like one of old dame Perrine, who wore them for the first time, after some fortunate specu lation of her husband, in tallow, because “ poor folks couldn’t.’’ Tu qtuoque. Besides the more common use of gloves as a covering,they were frequently used as sym bols, upon various great occasions. The dignity of Bishop was universally conferred by giving. one , and Archiepiscopal investiture employed a pair. One of the most solemn portions of the coronation ceremony of France consists iu blessing the gloves ; and a legend still floats about in the South of France, that when the unfortunate Louis XVI. suffered upon tha I scaffold, he threw the glove he had received with his kingdom, into the crowd around him, one of whom accidentally sold it to Napoleon, then a “sous lieutenant.” The general mode of challenging, as late as the reign of James 11., was bv throwing down the glove; and if a knight was degraded from his dignity, the glove, as well as his 6purs, were taken from him. If the last rule Were applied in these days, many would be without those articles, who brazen out their inner rottenness by these and other coverings and disguises. Formerly, Judges were forbidden to wear gloves, “ under pains and penalties,’’ as being beneath their dignity; but it is now a regular i custom in England to present the Bench with a pair, from the hands of the Sheriff. When ever the session concludes without any one being capitally punished, this is called a “ maiden assizeand if the power of our Leg islature to “undo the hangman’s knot,” and turn convicted felons upon the world, be coo- I sidered, “our Georgia assizes’’ would live and die old maids. There is nothing about a woman, d’seon- j nected from her soul, that bears so Idgh a price \ in market as a beautiful hand. It should be small, without being a minim, plump, without fatness, and tapering without coming to a point. It should be white : but it mav be brown | without .ugliness; and above all thing*, its | sweetness must be the product of “ virgin ] nature.” and not the hot-house offspring of 1 tight gloves, nor lily white powder. I funcy 1 that it may show signs of being or having been useful , without derogation ; but then, °I am j not a leader of the “ berm monde and so I j leave the rest for some other time. Roger de Coterit. The ipan who had to lower his sbiri-epllat to pass under the Wheeling Bridge, arrived in Cincinnati, last week. He was labvuuig ujudei a slight attack of collary.morbm . NO. 39