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VOLUME 10. THE GEORGIA CITIZEN IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY U F. W. AN DREW 8. Office —In Home's Huilding, Cherry Street, Ttco Dorns below Third Street. TWMti;—§2.oo iw-r annum. In adtanrr. \d*t-rll*rm*ilt *t th re*i; ** ch:m will b* 0r fSJJir per ■<t tun “I Flwdrfd HKrrtb f.r h ... f,.r the rir-l truer- L. .. i'il t’.Jtp Cent* fur each Vi iri(uelit .uaMtioß. All ad Terti-rm u(< ft'* *f--it!r<fxT<> tin*, wfll l {>uMi>til until f. r''.tL dul chartfi-U at-cnlmjch. A liberal dwnnut allowed to tlt'iae wk” advertise by the year. Li-t-ral arranireiiKtiti made Kh('omtr Ofllcvr-. I>m*oriwt. Atl**<*. Meri-kauta, amt others who limy wL*h to make limitcil contracts. |*rof<-4iol and Bii<iuei Card* iU t liutited an d> r thir head, at the following rates viz: Fur F.ve lines per annum. * S 00 y. *r revert lines flu. StO y..r Teit liner, do 10 00 y ;vlvertirement of tut- clam will lie admitted. unlex paid for in advance, nor for a leas Umt than twelve months. Ad T rtueniente ut over ten Ultvi will be charged pro rulo. Ad vertbemeMi not paid lor in advance will lie charged at the rrciie rate*. Ol iiiiart \ulim of ot cr lea line*, will be charged at the \ it non tier mr-fiU of candblaies hr office to be paid for a tie .tv.ial ntes nhea inaerted. on lev of Laud and Vccroeo, l>y Vzecutun. if-thlda torn amt Guardtai care refjtt ted by law to be advertized in a public r i/itle. forty liitu previous to the day of Mile. Time ndea nmnt tv held on the lot Tuesday in the no li*b. twtween Ibe le urs’ f ten hi the forem-ott an*f three In the at the Court-iiouae Ut thecuuiity in which the property is a.tu ated. walev of I’rrmtnal Property moat be adTertiaed in Uk> n,auner, forty day* Voice to llchtor* and t rrdilors of an Estate mud be : ptiMi-htd forty day*. Vilirr that application will be made to tlie Ordinary for leave to sell Land and Negroes must be publidled weekly for two month*. I in lions for Letter* of AdminUtra'hm, thirty day*; for Tiiuiil**io -rum AdmhiMrttioe. mouthlv. six months ; for ‘ fii-ntieion from Guardianship, weekly, forty day*. KuL-s for Forrrlimiug of Morlaaerv. monthly, four mold!. : I r e*t il.lishlinr |. rs parier* for the full npnce of three uioiithst for compelling title* from executor* or sdnimistn*- | t or* where a bond ha* been given by the deceased, the full ‘ •pace of three month*. iJ-Uisuilmuj. I Wad Knott Dye in Wintnr. BT AUTHOR OF “THOUTS OS A FADID BOKA.” j I wild knott dye in wintnr. When whiske punehez flo— When pooty gals are skating, O'er feel* of ice & sno— When sassige meet iz phrying, & Hickrie knots is thick ! Owe! who could think of dighing. Or even getting sick ? I wud not dye in spring tiem, & miss the turnip greens, k the pooty song ov little trawgs, A: the ski larks arly screeui; When bird* begin their wobbling, <k taters gin to sprout— When turkies go it gobbling, 1 wud not then peg out. I wud not dye in suuimur, & leve the gard’n sass— The rosted lam and butter milk— The kool place in the grass ; 1 wud not dye in sunuuur When everythings so hott, And leve the whiski Jew lips— Owe no! I’d ruther knott. I wud not dye in ortum, With peeehes fitt for eaten. When tiie wnvy korn is getting ripe & kandidates are treaten, For these and other wreasons, I'de knott dye in the pliail; <fc sense I've thort it over, I wud knott dye at all! For the Georgia Citizen. Niagara BY V. C. TAYLOR. Though the wonders of this spot are ever the theme of poetic discant andartistic delineation, yet, like the nnrevealtd splendors of the over arching heavens, they are ‘-ever telling, yet never understood.” To give the reader a faint outline of a few of the prominent features of the river and fall, it may be stated, that, three miles above the falls, the river presents the appear ance of a miniature lake ; it being nearly three miles in width, with an average depth of twen ty feet, and running at the rate of tive miles per hour. In descending, the surface is smooth and unrutUed until within a short distance of the head of Goat Island, when, suddenly the mighty torrent begins to stagger, leap and rush trout precipice to precipice, passing in this man ner over the uneven declivity forming the Rap ids, (making a descent of lifiy three leet in about a quarter of a mile on the American side.) it then becomes concentrated at the Falls to a breadth of about a third of a mile —estimating the two branches of the river as one when it takes the fearful plunge of a huudred and silty four leet perpendicular into the fathomless vor texJ(ou the Canada side) below. The Ameri can Fall, were it not eclipsed by the surpassing splendor and majesty of the Canadian, would of itself be a spectacle sufficient to challenge the unbounded admiration of mankind. But, by the side of its august rival, it is no more than simply beautiful. Tho one, exhtlerates the feel ings. the other subdues and saddens them. — One is a gorgeous display of creative beauty, the other an awful symbol of Almighty power. In this latter regard, we have seen at the break ing up of winter, immense fields of ice descend the Rapids and disclose for an instant upon the deep green of the great Cataract their huge di mensions, (often single cakes of perhaps thirty feet in Surface by three in thickness.) causing one to feel that their descent like falling moun tains would shake the surrounding earth : bub m more than a feather upon that vast torrent, would their fall ever send hick upon the ear the faintest sound. Engulpbed by the boiling children below, their reappearance (below the American fall) would be only in insignificant pieces, perhaps of the size of a hand. The roar of the Falls upon their banks, is lea* than oue would expect; while at a distance ot five miles with a favorable wind—the noise is often like heavy thunder. Perhaps nothing serves better to reveal the diversity of individual character than a first view of Niagara. A superficial mind thinks it “prettywhile the person with large contemplative and reflective powers be holds in it [the concentration cf all that is oon ceivably beautiful and sublime. 5V e have rare ly seen a more striking exhibition ol the mystic powers of enchantment caused by viewing this scene, than when once beholding a child stand ing upon the brink of the rapids and gazing up on its foaming surface; the call of friends (near by) was powerless to arrest its attention, and not until folded in the arms of a father and borne from the spot was the spell broken. The ceaseless clouds of spray ever ascending heavenward renders the Cedar Arbors of Goat Island in the most swelling heat of summer a nwat gratefsl retreat. At night, too, from the piazzas of the Cataract House, the visitor at once listens to the bewitching strains of dulcet music by the band within the gay assembly r °om, mingling with the deep diapason of the ru *hing torrent beneath his feet. In respect to proximity to the water, the Cataract House is ‘katinguiahed from all others at the Falla; from tha windowa of the Assembly Room when fk ored by a Moon, Jthe night view of the Rap- ‘Js forms one of the moet romantic scenes wit nessed at the Falls. The reflected rays of the ! lunar orb dance upon the ruffl-d surface of the passing stream with a fantastic witching that appears like myriads of diamonds floating upon a fees of moltcu stiver. For the past two seasons, visitors at Niagara have studied to couple social enjoyment to a far greater degree lhai. formerly, with the natural allurements of the place. Tne first movement in this direction was 0/ certain distinguished families from New Orleans, Philadelphia and others, who, for a number of years past have bean the guests of the Cataract House, and who have inaugurated a state of tilings which con tributes greatly to relieve the feeling of loneli ness and Isolation which has hitherto been the experience of individuals or parlies in visitiug the Falls. Promenading, dancing and other modes of social entertainment by which guests have the facilities for extending their acquaiu anee, is rapidly bringing Niagara into repute as . place of convivial distinction, second not ev n to its physical notoriety as one of the wonders of the world. Fom the Nashville Putrriof Poetry, uud-so-tortli. A moon struck young gentleman over here in Rutherfoni is dishing up love verses to his sweetheart through the col ums of the Murfresboro’ News. He writes himself doera “A Stranger,” and we should say he is a stranger, eminent ly so—not to the maiden upon whom he I so unmercifully bestows his poetry, but to the muses who have so unmercifully refused to bestow their poetry upon him. W e don’t mean to say that ‘A Stranger’ is not a poet, nor that a poet is uot a stranger —but we take it forgranted that the intelligent reader sees through it. In the first place, “A Stranger” wants to make his sweetheart a present of some sort, but does not know what to oti'er : “I do not kuow what offering, To lay upon thy shriue, And yet meihinks thy heart would ask The warmest love of mine.” No, stranger, you are mistaken there. You’ve missed it the very first pas?. — That young lady probably doesn’t care a continental for jour warmest love, nor lbr your coolest love either. If you’ve g<*tas much as a hundred dollars about your clothes, buy her a diamond hoop ; or if you are scarce of funds, try her with a set of patent expansions ; that might do. Your love is no doubt a well got ten up thing, but she might consider such trinkets neither useful nor ornamental, and )ou would get nothing but your labor for your pains. “Were I to bring the brighte.-t gem, E'er fouud in earthly miue, Howe’er so brigfit, it were not lit, To deck a brow ot thine.” Well, who ihe deuce said it would be? We don’t suppose she did ; we know wt didn’t. Never mind ‘decking her brow ;’ that’s none of your business. Besides, a much less costly gem than “the brightest e’er found in earthly mine” would, in all probability, considerably over-size your pile. If you can afford to deck her ei with a ten dollar ring, and she w ill consent to the </er&oration, you ought to be satisfied. “I cannot twine a wreath of flowers, To bind upon thy brow, For oh ! the laurel wreath of fame Is circling round it now.” Oh, you be hanged. Jut let us tell you one thing, stranger : the young lady who would’nt tear away “a laurel wreath of fame” for the sake of a bridal wreath of orange flowers, w hen asked to do so by the right sort of a man, died many years before you were born. If you are right certain the young lady is after you and you know you’ve got a dead sure thing of it, never mind the laurel ; if you can replace it with the orange, it won't be missed m uch then—though we suspect it very much mist now, and is all in your eye at that. ‘•But I choose for thee three jewels bright As Virtue, Jr ire and Truth-. For these nietbinks are fitting gems To deck the brow of youth.” Come now ; that game won't win.— Its played out long ago. If you really intend to give the young lady a token of your affection, do it at once, and don’t be whipping the devil round the stump in that way. It’s our opinion that you are trying to back out altogether. The jew els you are kind enough to mention and beg her to accept, are rather fine in their way, but they are hers already—they are her family jewels—and you are worse than a burglar when you rob her casket with one hand and attempt to make her receive the stolen goods with the other. For shame ! if you are “strapped, ’ “cleaned out,” “dead broke”—in a word, if you have “nary red,” say so like a man ; or if you are too stingy to buy your sweetheart something nice, which we are inclined to think is the case, you are unworthy to Rit up with her, and ought to back out and quit. ‘And lady when all I can wish, For thee on earth is given. Oh ! then I pray that we mav’st be As angels bright in heaven.” You can wish a good many things, stranger; you are liberal enough in that way ; but if you wish anything for her that coats money, and she has to wait till she gets it before she becomes an angel in heaven, what the thunder will be come of her in the mean time when this world wears out? When you shall have answered that question you can stand ’ aside. YYritten for the Banner of Light. MAN AND HIS RELATIONS. BY S. B. BRITTAN. CIRCULATION OF THE ANIMAL FLUIDS. Physiology as explained in the class books and taught in the schools, furnis es no sei ent sic philosophy of the Vital Functions.— YY hile the anatomist maps out the osseous, fibrous, nervous and circulatory systems, and exhibits their organic relations and mutual dependencies, the physiologist contributes his descriptive and technical disquisitions on their respective functions, all of which—with the current knowledge of vital chemistry— i3 insufficient to satisfy the reasonable de mands of the fearless and philosophical in quirer. If the writer may not hope to dis sipate the darkness that obscures the way to this temple of mystery, he will at least ven ture to diverge from the beaten track. It is ascertained that a well-developed hu man body contains about 28 pounds of blood, which, by a most perfect hydraulic process, is conveyed from the heart to the extremi ties at the rate of about three thousand gal lons in twenty-four hours; while, in every month of our lives, not much less than one hundred thousand cubic feet of atmospheiic air—passing through the six hundred mil lions of air cells in the lungs—are required to fan the vital fires. The force necessary to produce the organic action and to carry on the circulation in such a body has been variously estimated at from fifteen to fifty tons. The attempts to eject fluids into the channels of the circulation—either in the living or the life'ess subject—with other im perfect experiments of the Faculty, scarcely enables us to form anything like an accurate judgment on a question of this nature. — That an immense power is required to raise all the valves and to loree the blood to the minute and remote terminations of the capil laries must be obvious to the truly scientific observer. If, however, we adapt as our standard the mimimum number, and esti mate the vital force at fifteen tons, we shall still be startled and half-inclined to disp.ute the credibility of our own conclusions. The first suggestion is, that the human frame is too /rail to resist or endure the ac tion of such an internal force. But it is an accredited fact in science that every square inch of the external surface of the body sustains a column of air forty-five miles high, the weight of which is ascertained to be fourteen pounds. Thus it appeals that the whole body supports the enormous weight of more than 30,000 pounds! The hypo thetical reason why this does not cause an instantaneous collapse, at once extinguishing the life of the body, is b cause the inside pressure is the same. But that there is, in reality, any such corresponding internal at mospheric resistance can not be fairly inter red from an examination of the facts and principles involved. The outward pressure may, however, be counterba'anced, at least in part, by the electro-vital power within.— When the body is thus acted on by opposite forces in equilibria we are insensible of their presence. Moreover, this amazing force of fifteen tons, moving within the vital pie- ciucts, is so equally distributed, and applied with such precision to the different parts of the organization, that we are quite uncon scious of its exercise. We even rest quiet ly with an electric engine of not less than one horse power at work between our ribs; at the same time a chemical laboratory —in some sense as extensive as Nature—is all the while in full operation within, and yet we are only disturbed wheu from some cause the work is partially suspended. Those sue- ‘ tion and forcing pumps—that drive the vital fluids through innumerable channels in the mother’s breast —at the rate of some 15,000 hogsheads per annum—all operate so noise lessly that the little child sleeps peacefully on her bosom while the vital tide flows close by its ear. The tenant of the house has also a telegraphic apparatus that connects him with every department of the external world, and an inherent active j ower that destroys and rebuilds his whole establishment once in seven years—and all of these com plicated forces and functions are organically combined and exercised in a space two feet by six! A power so vast and functions so delicate, complicated and wonderful, must be referred to adequate causes; and here our physiolo gy is at a fault. The teachers of the science leave the beautiful temple of the soul in daikness. Viewed in its external aspects, and from the position occupied by accredi i ted science, the light on the altar is nothing more than the combustion of carbonaceous matter, while there is no divinity at the in ner shrine. Science has faith in the reality of so much of human nature as can be seen and handled, dissected, weighed and put in a crucible. Beyond this it is laithless, and many of its professed friends resort to vari ous shifs and quibbles to conceal their igno rance. The Blind Spy—A Tale of the Spasmodic Age. BY SYLVESTER ANACHRONISM, JR. Night upon the battle field ! In a tent guarded by five Zouaves sat aiound a mo-aic table General Washing ton, Mahomnaed and Julius Caesar. They were commanders of the allied forces at the siege of Jerusalem. It was evident from the appearance of the table, that they had been playing faro and drinking lager beer. “Hist 1” suddenly exclaimed General Washington, pointing his fingers to his lips. “Aha !” quoth Mahommed, spitting out a volume of the Koran, bearing the imprint of Harper Brothers. “Hum !” spoke Julius Ctesar, placing his finger to his nose ala Florence Hotel. A Zouave at this juncture put his head in the tent and said, “The murderer of Dr. Burdell is discovered.” MACON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 15, 1859. I ‘‘Then order the garrison to tirms!” cried Gen. Washington, “and let the Milwaukee Light Guard hold Pike’s Peak until the Horace Greelv Cavalry charge the Caucasians in the rear.” “Don’t you think, General, that if the Minnie battering ram, such as I used with Nelson at Trafalgar, were ordered Up, it would be better,” said Julius Ca 1 sat. “Bring in Flora Temple, and 1 myself will ride to the scene of action,” ex claimed Mahommed. “Bring me a Colt's revolver and 1 will good.” “Ilist!” said another Z nave, puttii g iii his head, “it is not the murderer o! Dr. Burdell, it is the Blind Spy who ap proaches.” The allied Generals fell to the ground in a fit, which was only relieved by the entrance of the Blind Spy ! Taking from his pocket a bottle of Hair Dye, he sprinkled it and said, “My master, So crates, bids you surrender, or he will send you all to the Mammoth Cave as prisoners of war, each toting a barrel of lager beer.” To be continued, ad in finitum, ad nau seum, in the New York Ledger. Giving the Sack in Earnest, A green, awkward girl, the daughter of wealthy pureuts in Arkansas, having come during the past year to , in Massa chusetts, to be educated, a young dentist, named Brown, conceived a notion that his shortest road to fortune would be to marry her. But, then, she was the laughing stock of the seminary, because so guant, masculine and ungenteel in her dress,and Brown felt that it would require all his nerve to stand the iidicule of several young lady pupils with whom he had flirted until he was satisfied that they had no money nor expectations of any. However, lie consoled himself with the reflection that doubtless he should speed ily obtain influence enough over the girl to enable him to become, in a measure, her ad viser in the matter ot costume, manner, etc. The foremost thought was to amend her ong, lank form by the aid of crinoline, which she had never worn, and his flattery had no sooner secured him a confidential place in her good graces, before he ventured to make her a present of a patent skirt or sack, together with a hint to fix up pretty handsomely for a ball, to which he had invi ted her. The night arrived, the party were assembled, and the Arkansas damsel made her grand entree from the ladies dressing room amid a tittler of laughter from the school girls and village belles. The hoop sack was shockingly out of shape, projecting in front like the Spouting Horn at Nahant; but that was nothing to the expose it made of her somewhat incongruous black hose, the fas cinations ot which were materially augmen ted by the yellow roseties on her white satin slippers (men’s size) encasing her deli cate feet. To com | lete Brown's horror, her flaxen hair and freckled face were “set off” with a profusion ot green and yellow bow knots, ot f .nnidable s ze, intend'd to do ex edition as beau catchers. Madder than sixty, the disappointed dentist went through the fi.st danc-e with her, taking little or no pains to conceal his disgust, and then hurried away to the whist room to escap ■ the .ar east c compliments and ridicule of his o'd ‘flames. The unlortunate partner, who wa* clear grit, was deeply incensed when inform ed of her abandonment, and some of tin sympathizers advised her to ‘give him th.- sack,’ that is, di.-miss him at once. *1 ‘ll b> dodrotted et I don’t do it ‘lore the hull crowd !’ she replied, in a boiling pas-ion, and making straight lor the dressing room, fol lowed by a bevy of laughing girls, soon emeiged again with the hoop-sack in her hands, and threw it at Brown’s feet. ‘Thar, you mean good-for-nothin’ snaker-out of old snags ! Take yer old sack, and wear it your self! and es ever I ketch ye speakin’ to me again, I’ll lick ye within an inch o’ yer life ; you'd better believe it!’ Roars of laughter iollowed this spirited conduct, and tooth puller was fain to make his escape. The next day he left the village, and has not re turned to it. The Arkansas girl became a pet, and finally made a very respectable ap pearance in society. Newspaper Publishing. The veteran editor of the Chronicle it- Sentinel j after an experience of a quarter of a century, gives it as his opinion that the newspaper business, if long followed, will give any one a poor opinion of the common honesty of mankind. We have tried the business more than the eighth of a century, and regret to say that our estimate of the aggregate honesty of mankind has been considerably lowered.— There is a great deal of latent, undeveloped rascality in the race, and if a man has any of it in his composition he is sure to exhibit when his newspaper subscription becomes due. Within the twelve or fifteen years we have been engaged in the business, we have lost enough money through the rascality of our customers to make a man of moderate desires rich! Many of those who owe us these small amounts, from $5 to SSO, are rolling in wealth and could pay any day in the year if they desired to do so. Many others belong to the migratory tribe, who are here to-day, and in Texas or California to-morrow. Others belong to a class quite numerous, who write to editors to send them papers and they will pay when they gather their cotton or do something else, but pay-day never comes; and, finally, after sending the paper four or five years, it is as certained that they never were worth a snap! Another class of losses grows out of the negligence of post-masters. A subscri ber, after taking a paper six months or a year, leaves the couutry without giving the editor notice, and after four or five years have elapsed he happens to meet with the post-master who most magnanimooriy m lorins him that his subscriber has gone to “parts unknown” and if he wishes to get any pay for his paper he had better stop if! Or, alter suffering the paper to come two or three years, he writes to ihe editor that for the second or third time he will inform him that the paper is not taken out, &c. These losses, and various others we might refer to, absorb the profits of the business to I such an extent as greatly to discourage those engaged in it. Although we have had our full share of non-paying subscribers, and have been worse swindled than any other publisher we know of, we take much pleasure ro saying that we have on our books the names of many gen tlemen whose punctuality through a long series of years—always paying in advance— entitles them to be rated as the “salt of the earth. ’ 0, for an increase of the number ! Occasionally someone long in arrears, moved by a tardy sense ot justice, pays his long-stan ling indebtedness. YVe regret that these cases aie so r ue. We ar * no w wailing b see lu\v many will do In lae we publish our black list. YVe would not willingly place any man’s name on that list, but just, so sure as we live all who neglect or roluse to pay up shall be exposed. Tlie time i? now rapidly draw-- ing to a close. Tin* I*opc ami tlie Com juror. A recent, number of the Athenaeum in reviewing a French memoir of a pro fessor of the art of sleight of hand, gives ihe following curious illustration of the dexterity of the operator, and of the bewilderment of the beguiled spectators. Torrini was the artist’s name, or at least the name by which he was professionally known ; and the scene (which is describ ed by Torrini) took place in the Vaticant before the Pope, Pins \ 11, and conclave, “After having selected from my re pertory the best of my tricks, I put my brains on the rack so imagine a some thing which, belonging to the moment, should present an interest worthy of so illustrious an audience. The evening before that on which my show was to take place, I happened to be in the shop of one of the first watchmakers in the city, when a servant came into to enquire whether the watch of his Excellency the Cardinal was mended. It will not be done before evening,’ said the watchmaker, ‘and I shall have the honor of bringing it to your master myself.’ * * * * Tis a handsome and ex cellent watch,’ said the tradesman to me; ‘the Cardinal values it at more than ten thousand francs, because having or dered it himself from the illustrious Bre guet, he fancies it unique of its kind.— Yet, what an odd thing ! two days ago a mad young fcllo et of this town of ours came to offer me, fora thou-and francs, a watch by the same maker, exactly like the cardinal’s. “ ‘Do you think,’ ‘that this person has really any intention of parting with his watch V “ ‘Sure,’ was the answ r er. ‘This young spend l hritt who has already made away with his patrimony, has now come down to selling his family trinkets. II would be very glad of the thousand francs.’ “ ’Where is he to be found V “‘Nothing easier ; he never leaves the gaming house.’ “ ‘Well sir. 1 wish to make his watch mine ; but I must have it at <uiee.‘ lim it for me ; hen engrave the Ca dinal’s arms on mm - so that ihe two ma\ n ! tie dist ll ;gin -h*-d fr in the other. O your lo II V depends tile be< ft \< ll will dra ‘ tr m ‘lie transact ion.’’ ’ The wat'h i> bought 1 y the wat h~ niaker, and • n mp:tris.m bore our he le-eription— w.i- duly engraved by the confederate Inly sent le> tie —and duly deposited in Tomni’s p >cket ready fm the trick of trick-; which \va< to close the evening. The Pope neither believ ed in, nor had been dissuaded by any tales of sorcery from countenancing the entertainment —feeling, that, so far as slight-of hand went, he was a wandering layman, and the clever fellow brought in to amuse him, the priest of many mysteries. The exhibition accordingly went off capitally. “To end it,” said Torrini, “and by way of hoquel , I w r ent on to the famous trick I had contrived for the occasion. Here, however, 1 had to- encounter many difficulties. The greatest of these, without question, was to lure Cardinal to give me his watch and that without directly asking for it. To gain my point, I had recourse to stratagem. On my asking for a watch, many had been handed to me ; but I had given them back, on the pretext, more or less true, that offering, as they did, no peculiarity in the shape, it would be dif ficult afterwards to identify the one chos en by me, “If, Messieurs, any one among you,” said I, “has rather a large watch, (the Cardinal’s had precisely this pe.-u liarity,) and would entrust it to me, I should accept it willingly as the one fit test for the experiment.” . The Cardinal fell into the snaip, and the conjuror examined, and admired, and asked questions about the Cardinal’s handsome watch, by way of loniment— :he word in the French conjuror’s dic tionary for the preliminary talk which is to beguile time, and put an audience off its guard. But, to return to the Cardi nal’s watch. After praising its capital qualities up to the skies— “ ‘See,’ said Torrini, ‘a first proof of them.’ And with this 1 lifted up the watch as high as my face, and let it fall on the parquet. There was a cry of fright on every side. The Cardinal, pale and trembling, got up. ‘Sir !’ said he with ill-restrained anger, ‘what you have done is an extremely bad joke !” But worse was to come for the poor Cardinal, who set such store on his Bre guet Torrini stamped on the case, cru-hed it in pieces, and took up only a shapeless mass. The Cardinal was in a rage; his watch (a chronometer too !) was the only watch of the sort ever made; and Toiriui handed about the pieces of broken metal, that all night be sure that the broken heap was the Car dinal's w atch of w atches. “The identity of the Cardinal’s watch proved, the next feat was to get the real one into the Pope’s pocket. But there was no thinking of such a thing so long as his holiness remained seated. Some expedient for getting him out of his chair must needs be found. 1 had the good for tune to find one. They brought me in a huge mortar and pestle, put it on the ta ble, into which I flung the wrecks of the chronometer, and began to pound them with all possible fury. Suddenly a slight explosion was hraid, and from the hot tom of the vessel came up a reddish flame, which gave the scene an appear ance of real magic. All this time, lean ing over the mortar I pretended to look in, and exclaimed to myself a’ the won derful things 1 -aw there. (Jut of re spect t.o the P* pe. no one ro-e ; but ihe P--titiff, giving wav io curiosity, at last approached th bit*, fi> lowed by some of he HU ‘ enve. “*1 do no know to it < : I mto at , tribute the bewi dei uient I said his liolim a-, ‘but I can see. nothing.’ “It was the same with my*e f; but so far from owning it, 1 : ejgeii the Pope to j Come rout and ihe tab!e, to the side ihe most favorable for seeing that which I , announced. During this evolution, 1 i slipped into the pocket of the holy fath ier the Cardinal’s watch. The experi ment went on, the watch in the mortar was broken, melted, and reduced to the form of a little ingot, which 1 handed round to the company. “ ‘Now,’ said I, secure of the result which I was about to obtain, ‘I am going to restore this ingot to its primitive form, and this transformation shall take place during the pas-age it is about to make hence to the pocket of the person in this company the least to be suspected of confederacy.’ “‘Ah ! ah !’ cried the Pope, in a jo vial humor, ‘this gets stronger and strong er. But what would, you do, Mr. Sor-v eerer, if I were to demand that it should be in my pocket V ” “‘ILs holiness has only to order to have his wish obeyed.’ ” The ingot was again displayed—of course instantaneouly hidden (as conju rers can hide any small matter.) Torrini cried, “Pass !” and lo ! the Cardinal’s chronometer in the Pope's pocket—safe and sound. The next day the sorcerer received a diamond snuffbox. Abolition Humanity. The Detroit Advertiser , which is by no means scrupulous as regards the rights of white men in certain cases, however much it may respect the asserted rights of negroes, slaves especially, deems the forcible abduc tion of the mulatto girl from her mistress, at Detroit, a glorious and praiseworthy achieve ment. It expresses the “belief that the girl is now infinitely better off than she would have been on a cotton plantation, or in a Souther slave-breeder’s seraglio, one of which would have been her fate sooner or later.” This girl was a waiting-maid to her mis tress, and had always been accustomed to the luxuries and refinement of respectable society. She, with her sister, was tiaveling in company with her lady at the time she was torn from them by the negroes of De troit. and YY indsor. At lust accounts she was quartered in a ru-irro hut at Windsor, Canada, rnor.p r-i.-c sac a-- - she is wholly unacc i-t’ in <i o, i, bv e ; dmi-.-ion of the \dverVser - . sii v <re is gr.l > ;>• and r. - <•• . i,d is ti ‘ |> i ‘tin v And i.’t-i iht phil anthropic papei pro! --cs to e‘ - that she is there ti iteiy hettt-r <tf tnati sue wou'd be at L -me, among her tiien-.ls and ft-datives. It i-i inch -d a strange principle that actuates the humane endeavois <>l these abolition philanthropists. It demands freedom for the slave, but the price of this l.berty is almost invariably a life of misery, or evental ruin— hardly equivalent. One of the strongest arguments against slavery employed by the abolitionists is i ased upon the alleged separation of families. This feature of the institution is held up in all its horrors, and many are the sympathetic tears that have been shed while listening to the recital of scenes of domestic woe, conse quent upon a forced separation of brothers and sisters, parents and children. But for this, slavery might be almost tolerated. Has the Advertiser no tears to shed in behalf of this girl, who has been forcibly separated from her sister, from the comforts of the horn® that she has always known, and from all that she has loved from childhood? Is the separation less painful under the circum stances than it would have been bad it oc curred under her master’s direction ? Or is it any less a sin ? Is it any less an act of violence and ir justice than the wresting of the boy Mortara from his parents, which that paper has so earnestly condemned in common with the civilized world ? He who preaches should endeavor to practice. That is, indeed, a questionable doctrine that makes it right for a non-slaveholder to do that which is wrong if done by a slaveholder.— N. Y. Journal of Commerce. M. Blondin’a Tig-lit Rope Feat. On Thursday last M. Emileßlondin (whose real name, it seems, is Emile Grave'et,) ac complished the daring feat of crossing the Niagara River on a tight rope at the height of one hundred and fifty feet above the river, which is 1,100 feet wide. The crowd who witnessed the feat is said to have numbered 12,000. He walked rapidly and firmly, as if he had been on a bridge, says the New York Tribune in its account of the feat, until he chose to stop to indulge in some gymnastic evolutions for a few minutes. He balanced himself on one leg, sat dowD, and laid down on the rope at full length ; then, recovering himself, he walked to the middle of theriver, where he asrain stopped to accomplish yet another feat not ‘aid down in the bill. Here, standing on the rope with as much indiffer nce as if it had been a solid platform, he deliberate lv lowered a small line to the little steamboat, the “Maid of the Mist,” that had steamed out to that point; to the line was a bottle of wine by the captain of the boat, and the battle being drawn up by the ad venturer, be opened it, and making a bow to the crowd on each side of the river, he drank the health of all present. He then threw the bottle into the river and walked on, stopping no more till he reached the Canada shore. He was exactly nineteen minutes crossing the river, including stops. After resting about half an hour, he returned, stopping but once, lying down two minutes on the rope, and accomplished the return trip in eight minutes. M. Blondin announces his determination to repeat his feat at intervals during the summer. From the Sumter Republican. A DISCUSSION or THE DOCTRINE CF UNIVERSALISM BETWEEN Rer. IF. J. Scott, Methodist, and Rev. D. />. Clayton, L'niversalist. llo'.ly Spkings, Miss., June loth, 1859. Rf.v. YY T . J. Scott: Deu’ s ir —Your second article cam* to lut'd yesterday, and I adtir S3 myself D the task f replying to su- h portions of it as sem ro demand a reply. 1 fb.d a few expressions in it to which I have but little reply to make. For instance; nearly at the commencement of your article you say: j “Here is another compliment you perceive but this liuie less to your candor than your adroitness.” In another place you say: “ But if you refuse to do this, I shall expose the trick, whenever it is attempted.” Once more, you speak of some of my arguments as a “mis erable affectation of learning serving to mis lead the ignorant.” To such splenetic personalities as these I have no reply to make; further than to say, that they are the legitimate fruit of the cruel doctrine you have undertaken to defend; and I leave it to your own conscience an<; the judgment of our readers to say whether or not, in using such language, you ‘infringe upon the courtesies of debate,’ a thing which you advertise I me and them, at the start von would ‘in no event’ do. A man ‘S excusable however, when hard pressed, tor using his n o?t effectual weapons, and if it be a fact that our readers are as ignorant as your lan guage in the last extract, above quoted,seems to implicate them with being, such sayings as those ot which lam speaking may pass for arguments; but I judge them to be too intelligent to receive personal reflections for arguments. YVe should remember that we are putting what we say in a form in which it can be referred to after we are done writing; and by referring to what I said of your interpret ing of Malachi, you will discover that you have misrepresented me. Instead of calling it preposterous for you to allege that the phrase ‘leave them neither root nor branch’ is equivalent to ‘everlasting destruction,’ I said : “Lo say that to ‘leave them neither root nor branch,’ means to continue them, both root and branch, in endless misery, is, to my thinking, about as preposterous,” Ac. “The charge which you allege brands my witness with falsehood, is not preferred against Elipbaz, but against Zophar.” is the declaration you make on this point. So, when Job addressed himself to his friends, all three of whom, were present, in the plu ral, saying, “How then comfort vs. me in vain, seeing in your answers there remaineth falsehood?” he only meant to apply it to Zophar. YYhat then did he mean w hen he said in the 12lh chapter in replying to this same Zophar, “But ye are forgers of lies, ye are all physiciaus of no value?” That seems to brand them all. Better have let it rest where it was before, my dear sir. Y'our assertion that this declaration of Job’s was among the ‘words without knowledge’ with which he was charged, is entirely destitute of any semblance of proof. Only five ver ses bes re, Job said: “the wicked is reserved to the day of and struction; they shall all be bri-ujzfit forth to the day of wrath,* J"b 21: 30 YY’ero these among the‘w ord- without ki O". k- g- .’ i” wli cii you r. !•-r ? i 1.,p1. irut l l is I judge, thrtt t was on v )i the la*’ 4 or 5 chapters that Job ut te cl. in which he boasted o i is own righi eou'ii s->, a'd charged Go with becoming ciuel ‘<> him. -hat he uttered llese words without kuowle go’and in t- is you agree with me,el>e why do vou sa>: “Job,although a good man * * * was righteous in his own eyes.” You alledge that alter this Job saw thin iiis ‘wickedness was great, and his iniquities infinite.’ What proof can you give of this position ? Not a word ot pro. f of the infinity of sin can you offer from the whole Bible, except the words ol this forger of lies, as Job brauds him, Eliphaz ; and yet you reproduce them, and by the aid of small capitals and italics, endeavor to make them verv emphatic. How remarkably strange if sin be infinite, that you can bring no proof of it from the Bible, but the saying of a fake witness! Do try again my dear sir ; for it is a momentous doctrine you are tryingto sus tain, and if sin be iufimte our readers would like to have the proof from some witness whose reputation is above reproach. You must allow me to be a litsle pressing on this point; and remember ‘that mere assertion, however confident, will not be reckoned pnxil in this controversy.’ You inform me that creed is an English woid, the primary signification of which i, according to Webster, ‘a summary of doc trine.” lam your debtor for this h.forma tion, and in order to discharge the debt, I w ll inform you that Webster also says that it means, that which is believed. This latter sense is the one in which I used it. Have I a right to use a word in the sense in which I chose to apply it, or must I first get a per mit from my lntnd Scott? With all my blundering I think I am now fully even with you. I did not say that ‘endless punishment is not found in the creeds’ I said it is not taught in your creed, if your whole creed is com prised in your 25 articles. Your reason why it was left out is somewhat amusing. Uni versalism ‘was so little agitated in those early times, as not even to require a passing notice.’ This from a gentleman whose de nomination was founded just 130 years ago. And then to say upon the heel of this, that Universalism ‘is 100 young by many years.’ Well you wanted to jest a little, and so you Silt forth that bit of innocent pleasantry.— lut when you were writing seriously, in your first article, you informed me that you had carelully studied the history of tlniver aslism, and in proof that you had, you after wards informed me what sentiments had been held by the advocates of the system, from the time of Ongen down to Hosea Bal lou. Universahsra was held by Origen in the 3rd century, and wa9 counted important enough, on the 4th day of May, A. D. 553, when the sth general council was opened at Constantinople, to call forth the following decree : “Whoever says, or think*, that the ! torments of demons and of impious men are ! temporal, so that they will, at length, come to an enJ, or whoever holds a restoration either of the demons or of the impious, let him be anathema. Anathema to Origen Ad amantius, who taught these things among his detestable and accursed dogmas.” This looks like Universalism ‘was so little agitated in those early times, as not even to require a passing notice.’ lam fearful, my dear sir, that you are not so fully posted as you thought you were. You say, that God in Isaiah 57th, express es his willingness to heal the wicked ews. It ought to read, in order to justify your in terpretation : ‘I have seen his ways and am j willing to heal him,’ but it does, read : I have seen his ways and will heal him verse 18 I what was his way ? Was it an humble and NUMBER 16. contrite way ? ‘He went on frowardly in the way of his heart,’ says the Lord; and it was this froward way that God had seen, and intended to heal. Nor was he only go ing to comfort the mourners. He says: 4 1 Will restore you to uim and to his mourners.” You will have to try again, my dear sir.— Make as many notes as you please and all he capitals you can, of n y construction that God w ill not cast off the sinner to all eterni ty It must mean this, or it would make God contradict himself; for he says: ‘I w 9 wroth, and smote turn He did contend for a while, and consequently when he says, just in the preceding verse: ‘for I will not contend loreve.r,’ he does n t mean dint he will not contend tven for a limited time. — Instead of fbtly coutradicting the scriptures, this only contradicts your construction ot Ist Chron. 28; 51. Give as good a reason for your construction as I have for mine, and produce another declaration of the same na ture and we will be even that far; but you ■ire a loDg way behind, as it stands. A de vil with horns and hoofs belongs to your side of the house, and I shall not admit him ■to my side. You can dispose of him as you please, on your own premises, but keep him at home. That the D.abolsof the scriptures is to be destroyed, Paul teaches beyoDd ques tion, Hebrews‘2; 14, and Mr. ClaytonnorMr, Scott neither can stiare in the honor of hisdes truction, notwithstanding there must be ad ded to Chrisc’s infinite remedy,* according to Mr. Scott, ‘ the co-operation of the finite power of man but-to Christ alone Paul as cribes the honor of this achievement. Your assumption that it would be ‘orthodox cruel ty’ to annihilate the devil is quite a rich idea. Orthodox, indeed! No, my dear sir, the doctrine of annihilation is heaveu-bom char ity, compared with orthodoxy, so called. We are fully agreed that it is natural death of the destruction of which Paul speaks, 1 Cor. lb : 2G. You admit that the rendering is right w hich says; ‘ the last enemy death shall be destroyed.’ You thus shoulder a load under which you will toil and sweat throughout this coutroversy. Death is the last enemy. Then there is no enemy after natural death; for it is of natural death we speak. The luet of man’s enemies is to he de stroyed. What will mar his peace then ?—■ But you say it might have been rendered greatest, instead of the last enemy. What would you gain by this? Nothing. Man's greatest enemy is natural death. This forev er precludes the idea of endless torture after death; for death is no enemy at all, con pr ---ed to endless agony. Whither will you turn ? Escape the consequences of this ad mission, if you can. You have succeeded so well in teaching me the true definition of creed, that you turn lexicographer, and un dertake to teach me the signification of Ka targeo, the original word rendered destroyed. Don’t accuse me of a ‘miserable affectatim of learning,’ because I have written out a greek word! You say this word signifies counter worked. Liddell and Scott’s Lexicon, is, I believe, standard authority among the learn ed, and they say, in it, that in the New Tes tament, this word means ‘to make void, a nousH.’ Let us see how Paul has used it in other places. Rom. 3;3, I find it rendered ‘without effect.’ Same chap., 31st verse, it is rendered ‘make void.’ Romans 4 ; 14, it is again rendered ‘of none effect.’ I CJor. 6 ; 13. ‘Meats for the belly, and the belly for meats, but God shall destroy both it and them.’ Here it is destroy again. 1 Cor. 13; 8. *‘ Whether there be tongues they shall cease: whether there be knowledge it shall vanish away.’ Here it occurs twice, and is rendered cease,, vanish away. In the 10tL verse of this chapter it is rendered done o way. I hope the reader will examine ai ot .hese places. The current i lea expressed by this word seems t** be tt at ot a censing to exist. Substitute counter worked in al hese places, and see what beautiful nonsense it makes Paul utter, in most of ihem. This word Katargeo , is tile word use . by Paul, Ileb. 2 ; 14, where he declares the destruc tion of the devil. There is not a word said in the whole 15th chapter of Ist Corinthians, nor in the whole bible, about the finally impenitent, and yet you say, ‘it is said in the same chapter that all enemies, the finally impenitent included, ‘shall be put under his feet.’ Show the phrase ‘ finally impenitent’ in God’s word, and I give you the argument. Prove that ‘the res urrection of the dead which is here so clear ly stated, is to be a preparatory step to the final judgment,’ another phrase not found in the Bible, and I will give up the contest. You admit that 1 Col. 1; 19, 20, teaches that God desires and wills the salvation of all men by Christ,’ but deny that this desire will ever be accomplished: See my exami nation ol this hypothesis in my third article. Look now at the Bible declaration, where God says: ‘my counsel shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure,’ Isaiah 40; 10.— ‘Not so,’ says Mr. Scott. ‘lt is God’s pleas ure to save all men; but he will never do it.’ ‘He is in one mind and who can turn hirn, and what his soul desireth even that he doeth.’ Job 23; 13. ‘Not, so,’ says Mr. Scott, “he desires the Selvatio i of ail men, but he will not accomplish it.’ But perhaps this is one of Job’s sayings composed of words without knowledge. ‘ls anything too hard for ih-i Lord?’ asks the Lord himself, Gen. 18; 14. ‘Yes,’ says Mr. Scott, ‘ God desires and wills the salvation of ali men by Jesus Christ, the Mediator, and as an ex pression of his good pleasure, he gave his Son to die for all,’ but the work of saving all is too hard for him.’ But yon say ‘too many will not come unto him that they might have life.’ Now, my dear sir, just look at your own system.— Men will not come, you say. Your creed says they ‘ CANNOT turn,’ without God gives them the will See your Bth article.— If ‘God wills,’ as you assert, * that all men shall have eternal life,’ why does he not give them the will to come to Him and have it ? Here is just where your system places God. It charges Him with mocking men with a pretended offer of salvation, and expressing a desire for them to come and be saved, when He knows they cannot will to come un less He gives them the will, and yet retu sing to give the yvill to millions, whereby they would be enabled to come. Can a sys tem that charges the God of heaven acd earth with such hypocrisy be the truth.— No, a thousand times no. Why, sir, down rioht nakpd Calvinism is ft system of infi nite teauty and consistency, compared with your doubie dealing system, which robs God of the power to accomplish his will, and also divests him of the will to exert his power for the purpose of changing man’s will.— You misrepresent me, when you say that I affirm in my exposition of this passage, Col 1; 19, 20, that the phrase ‘all things, in this text is to be taken in the broadest sense. I ask in my exposition, ‘is it not obvious. to every one that the phrase ‘all things, in cludes all men?’ This is the extent of my affirmation. I then ask: ‘is there anything in the context by which we would be justi fied or even excused, lor restricting the meaning of the phrase all things, so as to make it include only a part of the human race ?’ To this question you answer, that ai