The southern herald. (Athens, Ga.) 1850-1853, December 05, 1850, Image 1
V UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY rUULISHED BY T. M. LAMPKIN. r?* Although onr trrra* are rrrj for for a wmUt of large size, yet with a desire to double, treble and quadruple «mr present circulation we offer the fol lowing great inducements, THE BOOR MAN. Whose knee to God alone roust bow, At morning and at night— VboM aro is nerved by healthful toi Who siU beneath the tree, f Or tread* np<>n the fruitful soil, HERALD. JHcootcfr to News, politics, Citcrature anil General intelligence. VOLUME XVIII. ATHENS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1850. NUMBER 35. RATES OF ADVERTISING. Letters of Citation, $•’ 75 i Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 *5 ' Four mouths’Notices, 4 00 Sale of personal property, by Executors, Admin istrators or Guardians 3 SO Sales of Lands or Negroes, by do 4 T5 Application for Letters of Dismission,...... .. 4 M HP-Other advertisement* will be charged (1,00 for every twelve lines, or less, first iasertioa, and M cents fur each weekly continuance. BT Announceroentsof Candidates will be charged Five Dollars; as also the advertising of separation of husband and wife. All obituary notices, exceeding six lines iu length, will be charged for as other adrvrtis- To iusure attention, all Letters to tho. oditors i.t coaw/nf of pottage. ffrit calm and free. Oo—let the proud their gems behold, And view their sparkling ray; vase, or yellow gold, uncomely must have been the majority of her countrywomen may be judged from the sen sation she made. The Roman ladies were famed for their stately carriage and somewhat large, though noble features; and when to these charms were added those of regularity and delicacy Where sunny locks atm faces gleam To cheer the poor man's lot. What man is pour l Not he whose brow Yiwetwith heaven’ , Wha breaths to God the heart foil vow, Whose pledge is deep and true. The morning calls his active feet, ■ijTa no enchanting dome; Tfct evening ami the twilight sweet, ■ - Shall light his pathway home. And there is music to bis ear, In the glad voice of Ids child— Ilia wife, with hurried step, draws near, With spirit undefiled. Then turn m>t from the humble heart, Nor scum his humble tone; For deeper feelings there may start, Ilian the proud have ever known. llw-h—hush I the year is dying— Hark! through old forest dim— The wailing winds are sigliing The requiem over him— In quiet, deep and holy lie sinks to his repose; And languidly and slowly Ilis weary eyelids dose. Now some with tearful sadness The parting year review ; While others hail with gladness, The advent of the new. In glad young heart* as swelling and beautiful coloring, no doubt their simple ana pea coquette style of dress was especially becoming to them ; but without these latter qualifications, how gaunt and coarse they must have appeared. What can be more lovely than the figure of! Agrippina, bending that stately head above the ashes of Germanicus!—the robe falls long sweeping folds; the bare arm, naked the shoulder, supports the urn; the hair braid- lU I charms, and to know there are few of the terhood without some redeeming attraction, than tu have been a very goddess of loveli ness, and have felt that your own divinity was created by the sacrifice of whole becta- combs of less fortunate faces. From the Philadelphia Enquirer. Social ami Family Festivals. THE AFFECTIONS. “ There is in life no blessing like affection. It soothes, it hallows, elevates, subdues. And bringeth down to earth its native heave Au anuonymous writer iu the columns of a New York cotemporary, protests agai holidays-—says that “ they do no good-and ...» ...I.., .uppor., ine urn j me na.r ura,u- mu ''‘ tW-thM" they excite .nthagUate eJ back, .hows the perfect profile, ami pure j “J P«jSl>hlo cud. Ala.! fur the oval check, the smooth brew, the magnificent jeiMmeM, acerbity and bitterness of poor eve. in in. large and lofty chamber. I human ! Alas! for ll,e "tolerable ribbon, not the gleaming of a jewel, breaks the calm outline, or disturbs the se re unity. Agrippina could bear that style, Faustina and Messalina were less and looked even better. Perhaps among the circle of our ac quaintance there are two or three women | , _ , . who would appear to advantage so attired; | g reate . 8t 8 <KK }.. of *!l e . S r . eate , st nu ™ bcr ”— spirit that is annoyed aud irritated happiness of others, for the cuvioi jealous mortal who whines, groans, and grumbles through existence, and who is er moody and discontented when the shines and the world rolls on with a joj bound! For ourselves, we advocate of delight, ’ rolling hi are bright; la>w in the tranquil earth— Strange—strange—what bitter blightir What deeds to startle thought— W«H war ■derful, exciting. One short.sad year halit wrought! Pretty Women. BY A PRETTY WOMAN. I have oflcn wondered why there professed beauties now-a-days, while every past ago can boast its Helens; one generation may number many pretty faces, but it is the only one among the thousands already count ed that produces no beauties whoso names shall descend iniperishably to the penetration yet to come. A friend of mino (a gentleman of course^ suggests that tho universal likeness of the la dies of this age accounts for a falling ofT other respects, but here wo differ; for, al though it is a rare thing for a pretty waman to be clever, or for a clever woman to be pret- Jy. too much of such rare instances do occur to allow any rule to be established containing such a solution of the difficulty. Yet, wo cannot open a page of any history that docs not record tho fame of some beauty; the Bible has its Rachel—so lovely that twen ty years of service was deemed a light fee for her affections; tho world was lost for Cleop atra ; the beautiful mistress of the French kings ruled that world through the hearts of their imperial lovers; oven down to the days of George tho Fourth there has always been some lady whoso charms have been more powerful than mouarchs and prime miuisters. But I think the problem may be solved; it is the difiereucc of dress—costume does it all ; revive the robings of by gone ages, and you will revive all the beauty and ugliness of those days.—Forthere must have been a good deal of ugliness, otherwise beauty would not have been so forcibly appreciated ; had there been more pretty girls in the days of Troy, Helen would liavo had few suitors and Illiuin might have been standing yet. You must have been plain; so must Sappho have been—Sappho of Divine heart! But what are hearts compared to faces ?—what man loves a genius for her genius t How many love a foot for her face f But what I mean to say i* this—in (hose times people dressed so unbecomingly, that 8 perfect they unless their features literally nothing; all the minor graces which set off a mediocre person now were totally unavailable under that system of costume. For instance, Helen must have worn a loose robe, a broad girdle, bare arms, sandals on her feet, and her hair back in those rich, magnificent braids, termed to this day, “ Gre cian Plaits." But imagine for a moment all your acquain tances droned in this way ! Would not the majority bo frightly ! How few faces, how low complexions would stand banding back of thick hair! how few locks are thick enough •o to band hack! how few forms would •how well beneath tho simple robe, without •taya or stiff petticoats! how few feet would be endurable in sandals! how few arms would bear tho noon-day auu and tho sharp winds, which would soon reduce them to the pattern and form of a washerwoman's! Perhaps tho Jewish costume of Rebecca and Rachel may have been a shade better; . but here was the same exposure of neck and —with the additional disadvantage of a robe that showed a leg encased in hideous boots and shoes, and that refused to sweep wkh Grecian amplitude around the limbs of the fair wearers. Cleopatra—who is represented as both dark and strong, could wear only the robes of white or purple, the heavy diadem, the •truigs of. pearls that were the allotted garb °« Egyptian princes. How dark and now but oh! how well for the dumpy and the scraggy, “netrelroua sc" and the “ nez snub" that they fall upon bettor days. Still we hear of some so striking lovely as be known to all the world by the fame of their eyes alone; of these we may name Edith of the Swanneck, so called from the brilliant whiteness of a skin capable of resist ing tho exposure to the sun and wind, which tanned and freckled into frightfulness the queens and lofty ladies of those rude days; Rosamond the Fair—so fair that it was said of her—‘ None liut a jealous and exasperated woman could have harmed herBeatrice Cenci, whose beauty makes one shudder, so mysterious seems the light in those large, un troubled eyes, soon about to close beneath the pressure of so awful a fate; Lucretia Borgia, an angel in face, a demon in heart; Mary of Scotland, whom “ no man ever be held without love,” and some few others, un til we reach that famous trio recorded in the letters of Horace Walpole, as the loveliest women of their time, the three Misses Gun ning. One of these—the Dutchess of Hamilton —was so renowned for her charms, that her fame spread far and near, inasmuch that when traveling once from the North to town, the mob in tho places where she rested at nights assembled round the hotels, nor would they depart until she had appeared on the balconies to display to them her world-famed face. And there is something strangely sad in the account of the death of another of the sisters—Lady Coventry—who perished of consumption, while in the highest pride of youth and beauty. She is recorded as pa tiently awaiting the approach of death—her looking-glass her constant companion—as scarcely ever removing her eyes from tho re flection of her own face, and as bewailing ly the too early extinction of a beauty w thy of immortality. At the time in which these fair sisters lived, the style of dress, although magnificent and graceful, was eminently trying to plain peo ple, and as eminently propitious to those fa vored; hence the exceeding value of beauty —lienee the extraordinary renown of those ranking as beauties—hence the apparent rityof that renown. The hair was then worn completely lifted off the face, leaving exposed every feature ; unless those features were regular to perfec tion, unless the complexion was smooth as marble and pure as snow, who could look well! And now very well those must have looked who did possess such advantages At a later time, when the names of some favorite beauties are again recorded, the cos tume, totally different, was so hideous, that no one could wear it with impunity—hence the high reputation for the beauty of Pauline Bonaparte, and Madame Recamier. The former is described as appearing at a party given by her mighty brother, in a tunic of white muslin, reaching a little below the knee and commencing far below the shoul ders, waist exceedingly short, and bound with a narrow girdle; sandals clothed the small feet while a mantle of leopard skin hung loosely round the perfect form of Con- nova’s fairest model. And there are many who can yet remem ber the appearance of Madame Recamier in the parks of London, clad in a robe of as scanty and as simple—her dark hair wreath ed around her head and fastened with u bod kin to the summit, and a scarlet mantle wrap ped around her. Now-a-days, the toilet of a lady is exactly conducted upon the principle most becoming to all; few figures look ill in the sweeping robe and lengthened corsage—ample and stately without stiffness; ankles, however, thick, are concealed by the long dresses, now tho mode. Features, however coarse, can be softened and shaded into something like symmetry, by the judicious arrangement of locks permitted to be worn iu bands, or braids, or ringlets, just as best suits tho face they sorrow And while no arbitrary fashion forces the exposure of a frightful profile, a clumsy a ponderous ankle, no rule exists to prevent the reverse, to bring ont her own “ good points" as sbe think best, and it is easy to conceal her weak ones, without departing from the fashions that prevail. Under these circumstances, it must tainly be a consolation to our fair friends to feel, that although it is difficulty >m the Savannah Morning News. POSTSCRIPT. GLORIOUS - NEWS FROM BOSTON ! the “ largest liberty” iu the elevated sense; the “ widest field for enjoyment”—“ tli happiness of the million,” and as especially conservitive, moral, social and delightful, do we regard religious and family festivals— seasons in which the mercenary nature of man is forgotten—periods during which Friendship and Affection rule and gladden tho hour, and thrill the heart with feelings that “ once experienced aud enjoyed are never forgotten.” It is, therefore, that we urge and advo cate occasional meetings of relations aud friends—gatherings around the social board and the family fireside—re-unions of hus bands and wives, sons and daughters, grand parents and grand-children—all who are united together by the fond ties of humani- doctrine that the individual who participates to the largest extent in the enjoyment of the affections, who is esteem ed, cherished and loved by tho many, and, who, in return, regards with feelings of friendship, affection and respect, all who look up to him in such a kindly spirit, is long the happiest of his race ! The often- that the opportunities are afforded for engthening these holy ties, and indulg ing these pure and kindly feelings, the bet- er for all parties—for tlioso immediately :onccrned, and for society at large, by way of example. We can conceive of nothing more truly delightful than the rc-uuion onco a year ofteuer, at some Thanksgiving, Christinas, or New Year's Festival, of all the bers of a largo family—residents perhaps of different villages, towns, cities or States, separated by tho commercial and business objects of the world, and yet eager to e brace every fitting opportunity to unite ot more, hand to hand and heart to heart, the hall of the old family homestead, a around the bent form and the white locks of the patriarch of the circle! The feelings E roduced on such an occasion cannot but e pure and ennobling. The recollectious that flow back, the associations that are call ed into existence, the memories of plei ant scenes and incidents in early life, the kindly looks, the heart’s warm words, tho in terchange of sentiments and of feelings ;— who that has enjoyed, ever can forget tli No! It is a cold and heartless policy that would make a man a slave to averice, that would confine him to perpetual toil, tli would teach him that money, trade, power, are the only objects worth living for, that would rcstraiu his aflections, chill his sym pathies, and deaden his heart. A few short years at beat, and the flame of human existence burns feebly, still more feebly, and expires. Age and de crepitude steal upon us soon enough. And when onc#^ consigned to the grave andvits coldness, we are speedily forgotton. While we live then, let us cultivate the affections. Let us indulge the better, tho purer, the gen tler, the finer qualities of our nature! Let us endeavor to win the kindness and regard of others, and to reciprocate in a truly gen erous spirit! Happiness is oftener found in the social walks of life than in any other. She loves to build her altars, in the heart, and have the affections minister at her tem ples. She delights in the enjoyment of oth ers, and this indeed, is her highest felicity.— So it should be with mankind. We should strive not only to enjoy pleasure, but to im part it. We should take satisfaction in ad ministering to the purer, the holier tastes of our fellow creatures. The world is far more readily governed by love than by fear—at least the social world, and we should profit by this truth. But if, in the spirit of the mi santhrope, we go about complaining, eagerly detecting the evil and overlooking the good, prompt in discovering causes of sorrow, but slow in ascertaining cases of joy, we shall not only prove false to our mission and our duty, but darken and embitter our own ca reer, and canker the bliss and the prosperi ty, of all who look up to, love, respect or depend upon us. Cultivate the affections— encourage pure tastes, social festivals and family re-unions, and thus create exhaust less sources of genuine pleasure, and not only brighten and gladden the present, but cheer aud illumine the future. 500 Abolitionists Hung (in effigy)—All the Runaway Negroes taken alive and “ bag ged," to be sent back to their masters free of expense—Ably Folsom and Lloyd Garri son put in the Stocks—A Special Minis ter sent to England to recover Crafts and his wife. Boston, Nov. 25, 1850. I hasten to inform you, through the agency of a clairvoyant (one of the Rochester Knock ers) of the wonderful re-action that has taken place in public sentiment within the last twenty-four hours, in our city. Such a demonstration of genuine patriot ism has not been known in these parts, since the Battle of Buuker Hill. The President has ordered 20,000 troops to this city, to en force the Fugitive Slave Law. The city has been placed under Martial Law, aud nearly all tho Abolitionists HUNG in effigy.— George Thompson has been hissed out of the limits, by the women—Garrison and Abby Folsom are now grinning at each other in the stocks. Fred. Douglas has fled to Canada, and the balance of the Fugitive Slaves have all been captured, tied, and labelled, and are to be delivered to claimants free of cost.— Everything liko abolition agitation has been made a criminal offence, by proclamation of the Governor, and a special Minister has been dispatched to England, to recover Crafts and his wife, who will be sent to n, Georgia, in a Government vessel. After this I need hardly assure you that Boston is sound on the Slavery question, and people are for the Union and the Rights of the South! I liasteu to give you this gratifying intelligence, that you may be able to silence the fire-eaters and dis- unionists, who are endeavoring to persuade the people of the South that wo are unwilling bide by the late glorious Compromise P. S.—We shall illuminato when we hear the result of your election, which is awaited with breathless anxiety. Dramatic Chit-Chat. Mr. Collins, the popular Irish comedian, was at Buffalo at last date, playing his round of characters; among which was Johu Brougham’s new comedy, written expressly for Collins. Julia Dean was playing at Cin cinnati, and winning unbounded applause.— A diamond bracelet worth $150 was present ed to her a few nights since at her benfit in Nashville Theatre. The little Batemans have been delighting tbe people of Milwau- kie by their surprising theatrical performanc- Charlottc Cushman was still at the Wal- -street, in Philadelphia. Miss Davenport is performing at the Portland (Me.) Museum. Mr. Graham and Anna Cruise, Mr. J. B. Booth, and Mrs. Coleman Pope, are playing at the National, Boston. Tho Nickersons and Jos. Cowell, finish at the old Boston Theatre this week. Dihdiu Pitt, the Thornes, and Blangy are carrying on the war at the Howard Athe- meum, Boston. The Wallacks are playing this week, very successfully, at Lowell, Mass. Sol Smith has opened the St. Charles, N. O., for the season, with a good prospect ahead. Mr.'T. S. Charles has opened the American, (lately Place’s) with a good company, and with fair chances, it is said, of success. Tom Placide’s “ Varieties” had not been re-open ed at last accounts, but would be, shortly. The St. Louis and Louisville seasons have closed. Johu Brougham’s “ Lyceum, 1 Broadway, is in rapid progress. Republican Diplomacy. Eliliu Burritt makes some sensible re marks on the gim-crackery in which our Min isters always rig themselves on every official occasion. Why dont they imitate Dr. Frank lin, and go in plainjRepublican custome ! So thinks Elihu, as may be seen by the follow ing extract from one of his late letters : “ It does strike me as directly misrepre senting the dignity and duty of the great American Republic, when its representatives at foreign courts put themselves into cocked hats, and mongrel military coats, and “tights” of bediddled plush, and hung with long awk ward swords, which they would be ashamed to wear at home, and take upon them other airs and boyish gewgaws, in order to dauco attendance on either royalty or aristocracy.— I hope the people of the United States will look to this matter and demand that those whom they send abroad to represent their nation’s dignity, shall comport themselves consistently with their high vocation, and don no livery before Kings or Queens, or the minor potentates or principalities of Europe, on any occasion. So strongly does the im propriety of this deportment take hold of my mind, that, if I wero President of tho United States, I would send no minister to any for eign court which should require him at any time to appear in any other than that plain, civilian dress which the Constitution and customs of our country prescribe to him who receives the nation’s guests at the White House in Washington. |^" An old man still lives in Sheffield who remembers when the news of Buuker Hill reached town, and tells the following story ; •• The rumor of the glorious fight spread like wild-fire among the scattered farm houses. The men and boys, without a known exception, met in the streets the same even ing and erected a liberty pole. That very night it was cut down. Suspicion fastened upon one of the principal and proudest men iu the town, who was known to hold Tory sentiments. The indignant people re-assem bled, erected a new pole, seized upon the suspected man and made him confess his treason and bis accomplice, anointed his fore head with tar, and crowned him with feath ers, and then having formed a double line, compelled him to pass between the files and ask in turn the pardon of every man and boy in tho town. The humbler individual, who had been hired to fell the liberty pole, was then mounted bare-backed upon a raw- boned horse, and so paraded through the vil lage, stopping in front of every house to en treat forgiveness for his share in the offence.” The reciter of this, distinctly recollects when the Tory asked his pardon, being then a boy of nine years. A World’s Fair Speculation.—Some idea of the extent of the great London Fair may be formed from the fact that the privi- A Present for Jenny Lind.—The fire- men of New York are preparing a present lege of printing the Catalogue has been pur- for Jenny Lind, in return for her generous chased by the Messrs. Clowes, at a premium donation to thti Fire Department. It is a! of$20,000, in addition to two pence for every 0 j copy of Audubon’s Birds of America, mag- copy sold, to be applied towards the expen se reputation of pre-eminent beauty, it is! uificently bound in vellum, and ornamented {ses of the exhibition. But another will be difficult to appear remarkably plain; and it with goldeu designs of tbe costliest cliarac- printed in several languages, and be sold at is sorely better to possess only moderate ter. tea shillings per copy. Large Damages for a Forcible Eject ment from a Railway Car.—In tho case ol Thomas Keyes vs. W. B. Lawton and others, for assault and battery, tried before the Su premo Court of Rhode Island, tho jury re- turned a verdict for the plaiutiff for $10,000. The Providence Journal says tliat the action was brought for an assault committed upon tho plaintiff while a passenger iu the Stomng- tou cars by the defendauts, who were officers in the cars, and for a forcible ejectment from the cars. We understand that the assault for which this suit was brought commenced by a controversy between the plaintiff and brake- man about tlie smoky condition of the cars, and ended by tbe former being thrown from the train and seriously injured. Tub Philosophy of Courting.—The long nights are coming on, and the season of court ship is arriving. As soon as the weather gets so uncomfortably cold that tho girls are driven in tho house, instead of enjoying eveniug promenades in the street, lovers begin to nestle round them, and sparking commences. This accounts for there being so many more marriages during the latter part of the year than there are in the spring. A Man of Iron.—There are few avoca tions in life which require a man to be made of tougher material to follow them success fully, or which will make a man’s hair grow grey so rapidly, as the editing of a daily newspaper. To become a veteran business, one must have a snake’s tenacity of life, and a constitution of lignuravita;.-— Old Ritchie, of the Washington Union, ap pears to be a veteran of this sort. Duriug the last session of Congress, he says that he went to his pillow at three or four o’clock for eleven successive nights, and rose at eight the morning. And yet the “ old stage orae seventy years of age, wo believe, tho American Union prove as tough as Ritchie, it will take u good many violcut storms to start its timbers.—-Sac. Rep. ‘Hab you got the janders Pete?—De wlii of your eyes am as yaller as safirum.’ ‘Hush your mouf of dose insidious com parisons, Sambo! I’sc got de Kallumforneo gold fever; wen de crisis arribes in the del- rium stage, den dis inderwidual also lebes for de regum of perpetual gold. Dat is, Sambo, perwided Congress does not prohibit us to take our slaves and oddor real estate ‘Well, Pete, you is insame. A gemman of your color to talk offoolishing after deae visiumary white folks down Capo Horn. • I shall detract my remarks on your appear ance, and subsurtrout derefore dat all ob a color, all ober alike, you is de darkest green est nigger on Mount Joy—you is a disgrace to tho whole colored sex!—you is green as a ^ ‘Epmty dis building ob your presence. Sambo, or dis nigger is not 'sponsible for your early disease. Jenny Lind, without previous announcc- meut, visited the New York Asylum for the Blind, on Tuesday last, and after examining the plan and arrangements of the Institution, said it would afford her great gratification to sing two or three songs for the entertainment of the pupils. The pupils were immediate ly assembled in the Chapel, and Miss Lind | taking her seat*at the Piano, sang several of her choicest melodies, among which was the celebrated Bird Song. Her sightless hearers were charmed, and gathered around her to express their gratitude.—Phila. Gazette. Execution Almost.—The Ashville News gives the particulars of an affair that occurred there on the last Friday of October. A mar by the name of Cresman had been condemn ed to be hung on that day. Every prepar ation had been made for the execution; the gallows had been erected, a large crowd had assembled to witness it, and the Sheriff pro ceeding to the jail, solemnly commanded the prisoner to make ready, and after he had done so, shedding tears all the time, and ask ing if he was to be hung like a dog, brought him out in the street. Excitement was at its height, when the Sheriff pulled out of his S ocket a paper, which proved to be a par- on from the Executive of the Slate!—New- lent (N. C.) Rep. llth. ult. The Anatomy of Starvation. A book of startling interest has recently appeared in Loudon, from the pen of tho Rev. S. G. Osborne, entitled “ Gleanings from tho West of Ireland,” iu which occurs the following terrible description of the phe nomena of starvation: “ From my own experience last year and i the present occasion, I can vouch that starvation in Ireland has its owu distinct physical phenomena. In grown-up persons, besides an amount of attenuation which seems havo absorbed all appearance of flesh and muscle, and to have left: tlie bones of the frame barely covered with some covering, which has but little semblance to anything we should esteem to be flesh ; the skin of all the limbs assumes a peculiar character; rough to the touch, very dry, and did it hang in places in loose folds, would be more of the nature of parchment than any thing else with which I can compare it.— The eyes are much sunk into the head, and have a peculiar dull painful look; the shoul der bones are thrown up so high, that the columu of the neck seems to have sunk, as it the chest; the face and head, from the wasting of the flesh, and the promi nence of the bones, hare a skull like appear ance ; the hair is very thin upon the head ; there is over the countenance a sort of pallor, quite distiuct from that which utter decline of physical power generally gives in those many diseases in which life still continues after the almost entire consumption of the muscular parts of the body. In the case of the starved young—and wo saw many bun- dreds—there are also two or three most peculiar marks, which distinguish them from the victims of other mortal ills. The hair on a starved child’s head becomes very thin, often leaves the head in patches; what there is of it stands up from the head; over the temples in almost all, a thick sort of downy hair grows, sometimes so thickly as to be quite palpable to the touch. The skiu over the chest bones and upper part of tbe sto mach is stretched so tight, that every angle and curve of tho sternum and ribs stand out in relief. . No words can describe the ap pearance of the arms. From below the el bow the two bones (the radius and the ulna) seem to be stripped of every atom of flesh.— If you take hold of the loose skin within the elbow joint, and lift the arm by it, it comes away in a large thin fold as though you had lifted one side of a long narrow bag, in which some loose bones had been placed; if you place the forefingers of your hand under the chin, in the angle of the jaw-bone, you will find the whole base of the mouth, so to speak, so thin, that you could easily con ceive it possible, with a very slight pres sure, thus to force the tonge into tho roof of the mouth ; between the fingers there are sores; very often there is an asarcous swell ing of the ankles; in the majority of famine cases there is either dysentery or chronic diarrhcce. There is one comfort to be found in these sad cases—there does not appear to be pre sent pain. I have now walked in tbe course of my two tours, I should suppose, some miles of infirmary wards in tbe union houses in Ireland; wards often thickly crowded, al most always sufficiently full. It has not been my lot to hear one single child, suffering from famine or dysentery, utter a moan of pain. I havo seen many in the very act of death ; still, not a tear, not a cry. I have scarcely ever seen one endeavor to change his or her position. I have never heard one ask for food, for water, for any thing. Two, three, or four in a lied, thero they lie and die; if luffering, still ever silent, unmoved.” Love is as natural to a woman as fra grance is to a rose. You may lock a girl un m a convent, you may confine her iu a cell, you may cause her to change her religion, r forswear her parents; these things are ossible, bnt never hope to make the sex jrget their heart worship or give up their reverence for cassimeres, for such a hope will prove as bootless as the Greek Slave and hoi- i bamboo. *° W * 1 . Mr. Webster at Jenny Lind’s Concert. —Mr. Webster attended tho concert last eve ning at Tripler Hall, and applauded as ar dently as any body else. He seemed to be in raptures with the Nightingale, and kept constantly looking at her through a glass.— Between the first and secoud parts he was recognized, aud a cheer was called for him, when the most enthusiastic cheering followed with waving of hats and handkerchifs, and the audience all rose to their feet. Mr. Web ster acknowledged tho compliment by rising and also waving his handkerchief.—N. Y. Day Book. Aquatic Rencontre.—One day last week, in the beautiful sheet of water of Hathcrton Lake, Lichfield street, Walsall, a novel ren contre was witnessed. A goose, while its beak was under water was seized by a pike, and a struggle for life ensued. The poor goose was seen to go under water several times and come back, only tbe body being visible, its head not rising above the surface, till at last it sunk altogether, a prey no doubt to its ravenous assailant.—Staffordshire (Eng.) Advertiser. Distinguished Marriages.—On the 5th inst. in Christ Church, St. Louis, by Rt. Rev. Dr. Hawk8,Hon.Edward Carrington Cabell, of Florida, to Anna Maria Wilcox, daugh ter of Mrs. Gen. Ashley. At Wilmington, North Carolina, on tli? 18th insL, by Rev. Dr. Drane, General Wad- dy Thompson, late Minister Plenipotentiary to Mexico, to Miss Cornelia A. Jones, daugh ter of Col. John W. Jones, of tlie former place.