About Georgia weekly telegraph and Georgia journal & messenger. (Macon, Ga.) 1869-1880 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 26, 1871)
rv v o a AND CtEORGIA journal <Sc messenger, Pj^gy ) JONES & REESE, Proprietors. ESTABLISHED 1S26. MACON-. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1871. Volume LXV—No. 13 or „i» TolfS^P 11 Building, Bacon I. , D a Messenger, one year §10 00 I ^®°yy 'i'eiegraph and Messenger, i |«“■" 2 00 tiS ^thWeeklv Telegraph and Messen- advance, and paper stopped loatheuioney runs ont, unless renewed. " - irKJLN'GEMENTS WITH J. W. BUBSB & ^ rESC C0.’8 PUBLICATIONS. * Telegrspb A ^ssenger and Farm^ ^ ^ [•“vi^Telwraph a “d Messenger and — ^ 4 00 .• Telegraph and Messenger ^ Fura wd Home 5 00 ■ itm Clristian Advocate with Weekly 5 0q K**-. H'ct-kly 400 the peasant hero. J I. is a pleasant place in summer, the village I- Eocorodskoe—to those, at least, who are not tMTMilaia living, for neither hotel nor refresh* PL r oom has ever been heard of there. The L'oie place is simply one of those quaint little Kin of rough-hewn log-huts, clinging like -'pets to either side of the high road, whioh t nowhere seen to snob perfection as in Swed- r or Russia. Some few of t :e houses are of i Ttnder sort—actually two storieB high, with Inehtlv-paiated roofs and whitewashed balco- Ls in front, that make them look as if they ta white ties on. These are the “swell” man- Las of the place, and look down upon the poor He shanties aroond them as a footman looks i»beggar; but, for the most part, our village saade np of little cabins of the regular Ras ta, ivpe, built with no tool but a short axe— W-storied, thatched with straw, containing two 11 at most three rooms, and topped by the Vjel-hat-shaped “Tckerdah” or garret, in [rjjci lie fiussian peasant stows his hay, piles a wad, stores his provisions, dries his clean .leaf(rhen he has any), and, in a word, be- everything that he cannot cram into the He kennel below stairs, where he, his wife, hs children, and very often likewise his ox and p iss, his pig, and his poultry, and everything Ei! is his, eat. drink. Eleep, and vegetate. The Eiias of Air. Ivan’s hon6e fit into each other I: the ends like the corners of a slate-frame, his f ;ar is fastened by strong wooden pegs, beside . big stove hangs the rudely-daubed pictnre of ae ltas^an saint, with a candle burning in |mt of it, and in the corner of the room stands Ibge "coondook” or wooden chest, painted El ind damped with iron bands. This chest pie peasant’s greatest pride; he keeps his Inky clothes in it—he and bis friends sit upon K He a sofa, and whenever he changes from pe (j p!«e, ho always drags this great heavy pstnbar of a thing along with him. Sat 1 danbt whether any of yon woald like to ;t; in s hessian cottage. The roof is jnst a liltsie of saplings and spiders; the walls'a biib-msh of wood, earth, and earwig*; the Lra paste of straw and clay, dotted with black ptia, like the plains in a Christmas pudding, la. Lnt I lived in had only jnst been bnilt, so l:: I had nothing to disturb me worse than a kgiBent of black ants marching every now and l:-.c on: of the cracks in my window sill, or a puia of muiqnitoes coming “ping-pinging” Erongh my open window. And, what's more I Ltd a little ronnd table fixed in the ground in l.-jct of my cottage, and a low bench pnt beside V and there I used to have my breakfast and la in the open air; and I can tell yon that when I •■tit sitting (here about seven o’clock on a glo- r.onj summer morning, fresh from my early kls. with my cosy little tea um steaming in frost of me, a fresh roll on one side, a couple If new laid eggs on the other, and the soft, puny, sunny uplands stretching before me for p.s, edged here and there with dark patches if forest, like far trimmings upon a velvet robe -1 w»s 03 happy as could be. One may be com- palle in Russia as well as anywhere else; and Vhnyoa come to travel there, yon soon find R that it's not the cold dark prison, fall of fits, wolves and frost-bites, that we nsed to Tagineit; that there are other things to eat ww beside soap and candles, and other things Mo beside sitting all day clo3e to a stave with tvoolen comforter ronnd your neck. I While the heat of the day lasts you don’t see >tck of onr villagers. Hero and there yon may [' ia with a stray one creeping the highway, F straggling about the fields; but, as a rule, the f'k.of the population don’t show np till towards M—6- Then, as if by magic, the whole place F-iitnly becomes alive with all kinds of queer fr-rcs: bearded laborers in greasy red shirts, f* boggy trousers stuffed into their high boots; Footiag children, shaggy as bears and brown pcuel-nnts, with nothing on bnt a pancake* F ired night gown well lined with dirt; short- fhttid women, with scarlet handkerchiefs ronnd Mir beads, and round, flat, wide-mouthed faces, looked like a penny with a hole through it; -'teats with straggling black hair, and an p-bfi aawashed look about them, ogling tho J ■■on-cheeked, barefooted lasses who come trip- ly with their pails of spring water; and P** village policemen with brass buttons, l-hag on with an air of fatherly superiority. R it is beside the rickety pump in front of the prS# “shop of all sorts” that the great assem ble held. There fathers disease things in gen- H their months fall of black bread and ,-vlcucumber; there mothers compare notes ^family matters, or drive bud bargains among pxstlves; and there children of every ago ft/* themselves with tho national sports of f ^in the gutter and throwing dirt in each eyes, varied by an occasional boot at ■ple-bones, by way of variety. o:t ia winter a sad change comos over merry Ppodskoe. Instead of the charming little pjje, full of life and enjoyment, yon see , ~:gbnt a cluster of silent huts, half-buried Jttav, peering above the great white desert extends on every side. All around, the pc, desolate fields stretch their ghostly wastes r the horizon, while here and there a solitary r Vfn , distnrbed by yonr approach, flaps heavi- [■ a *ay with a dismal scream, like seme belated ptetre ^turning to its grave. Tho few peas- r-ts who still linger about, muffled in their thick lii.li' a Crocks, survey you with an air of dis- astonishment, as if wondering what bus- EJ® fon have here at all; the leafless trees I "’’P gaunt and grim against tho cold, grey ‘“v trn army of skeletons; and over au f;Ws a dead, dreary, ghostly silence, broken y> v l, y the distant barking of a dog, or the I.l a of the wind through the distant forest F~ *®«e still, if you happen to stroll beyond after ^Mk, y°n w iU see Polo spots of >;Guethe flame of a half-quenched coal, t-rt ? amon B the trees—and hear a long, mel- r^ty howl, like the wail of the wind on a K * !? nter ni 8ht, going drearily up through •' Jll. frosty air—and suddenly find yourself Beside the tea-urn stood a small lamp (gur- gling and sputtering as if it had a bad cold), which threw a pale circle of light upon the heavy crossbeams of the roof, and the dark sal- law, bearded faces of the company. They made a very striking group under tho dim lamplight, these six men, and all the more so from the strange manner in which they were behaving. In an ordinary party of Russian peasants you would have heard ceaseless talking and laugh ing, boisterous jokes, stories of Neighbors This and Neighbors That, snatches of old songs sung in this very place by the same kind of men in the days of Peter tho Great, and possibly, if the story-teller of the village happened to be of on the breast of its pursuer. Down go man and wolf amid a whirl of flying snow, while a shrill yell rings out on the silent air, for even in the sudden shock of that death-grapple, Vladimir’s knife has fonud time to come home, and tho hot blood pours over his face and breast from the wounded side of his adversary. And so, far ont °? lonely plain, with the cold moon looking pitilessly down upon it, begins the tng for life and death. Over and over they roll in the bloody snow, the wolf clutching at the throat of the man, and the man burying his knife in the side of the wolf. Crushed to the earth beneath a sti fling weight—spent with his long watch andhead- longrun—with certain death glaring at him from the party, an old legend or two handed down the yellow, murderous eyes of the savage brato, from generation to generation since Russia first! the stubborn Russian still fights doggedly on. In - Dia , Mnr ° m ^ tz f TJSht j the hot fury of that mortal struggle, the fierce with the Nightingale Brigand, and how Alexy hnnter-nature awakes, sweeping away all mem- Popovitch slow the Plying Tartar. Bnt these - “ - *- - men were silent and thoughtful, no joke, no stories, no laughter, every face clouded with anxiety, every eye fixed moodily on the ground. And what was it, then, which made them so gloomy ? Let ns listen to their talk, and per haps wo may find out. “It Is a sore judgment on us!” said one who seemed to bo the host—a big, burly man, with a tangled yellow beard. “The like has not been seen since the year ’Cl, when the wolves came right into the villago, and killed nine of our dogs m one night. Bnt then there were many wolves, while now it is only one that does all the mischief; and yet we, as many as wo are, can do nothing against him I” “And how tho mischief can we do anything,” cried a second, “against a brnto that scurries about as if he had wings ? Pounce he comes into the village, gobbles np the first thing that comes to hand, and off again! and yon may try to recollect his name!” (This the popular phrase for ntter disappearance,) “Well, we must do something to stop it,” said the third, a grim old fellow, who had had his nose taken off by a frost-bite. “Mother Avdo- tia’s only cow killed last week, poor Ivan Mas- Ioff tom to bits on Friday, Feodora Nikeetm’s dog snapped up last night, and onr watchman’s shoulder bitten through—brothers, we are wrong before God if wo let this go on!” “Ah, it is all very well to say we must do something—bnt who’s to do it ?” returned the second speaker emphatically. “When we turn out, three or four together, the cunning rascal marks it, and keeps off; and there’s not a man in the village, I take it, that would venture upon him single-handed. >Vho’l! try it, think ye ?” “/will!” It was a very low, qniet voice that spoke the last words; bnt there was a firmness in it which no one coaid mistake. The speakers started, and looked up. The sixth of the party, seated in the farther comer near the door, had hitherto been so qniet that they had almost forgotten his presence; but now every eye was turned upon him. He was a young man, but little over twenty, though his heavy moustache and square, thickset, muscular frame made him appear con siderably older. His face was coarse and com mon-place enough—the sallow, low-browed, weather-beaten countenance of the genuine Russian peasant; bnt there was a nameless something about the broad square jaw and small, deep-set grey eye, that would have made you pick out that man among all the six for any work requiring courage and perseverance. And, in troth, Vladimir Kovroff, young as he was, had already performed more than one feat which the village gossips still remembered with admi ration in their winter-evening chat round the tea-urn. “Ab, Vladimir Mikhailovitch!” (Walter the son of Michael) cried the host, “what’s this you’re thinking of? Ton that have only been married two months, to go making wolfs-meat of yourself ? Nonsense, lad! stay at home, and take care of yonr wife, and leave wolf-hunting to them that’s got nothing better to do!” Kovroff answered never a word; but his feat ures hardened like a mask of iron, as he slowly rose to his feet. All present knew well that when bi3 face wore the look that was npon it now they might as well try to move a mountain as to persuade him; and they sat silent, waiting to hear what he would say. “You say that Nikeetinthe butcher lost a dog last night; did the wolf eat the whole carcass ?” asked Vladimir of the noseless man, in the quick commanding tone of one who knows that he must be obeyed. “No; he hardly got a bite of it, the rascal— that’s one comfort!” answered the old fellow with a grim chuckle. “Feodore Stepanovitch heard the dog yelp, and out rushed ho and his men with lights and hatchets and scared the brute away. As for the dog, it’s lying in the yard now.” “ Go, one of yon, and bring it; and if any one has a sharp wood-knife, let him give it me.” It was curious to see how absolutely this man, the yonngest and least important of the whole party, issued his orders; and how unhesitatingly the rest obeyed him. Here, as everywhere, the stronger mind took the lead, and the weaker in stinctively followed. The host produced a huge, broad-bladed knife, which Kovroff swung around his neck without a word; and in a few minutes the car cass of Nikeetin’s dog was lying beside the door. Vladimir drained his glass and said: “ You tell me this brute generally comes about midnight; so between eleven and twelve I shall take this carcass to tho cross-roads and throw it there os a bait for him, hiding myself behind the fence hard by. When he comes up, I shall attack him, and then let it be as God wills. But you, broth ers, mind and don’t say a word of this to any one, lest my Masha (Mary) should hear of it. If I get off, there’s no need for her to know about the matter at all; and if I’m killed, she'll hear of it soon enough—God help her! And now, Alexey Nikoleiavitcb, if you can spare me your bed for awhile, I’ll take a nap, to freshen me for my work.” And a few moments later, this nameless hero (himself all unconscious of doing anything he roic) was sleeping os calmly os if a deadly con flict, from which he had little or no chance of escaping, were not awaiting him fonr hours later r. Midnight—cold, dreary, ghostly. A dead, grim silence over the lifeless village and lonely high road. A faint glimmer of moonshine, giv ing a weird, spectral look to the half-seen out lines of tho dark, silent log huts, and making the gloomy depths of tho encircling forest seem all the blacker. A shapeless mass lying ont npon the hard snow of the cross-roads, and a dark figure crouchod behind a fence hard-by, with something in its hand which glitters as tbe moon falls npon it. Weary, weary work, crouching there in the cold and darkness, with the stiffening fingers clutching tho heavy hatchet, and the strained ears watchful to catch the slightest sound. Hark! was not that a low howl from the far distance ? No, it was bnt tho wind moaning through the \ skeleton branches of the forest. Patience yet! ' ory of his comrades, his wife, his devotion, he feels only the longing to tear and kill tingling to his very finger-ends, only the grim enjoyment of plunging his knife again and again into that gannt muscular aide where the life seems to lie so deep. See! those merciless stabs are at length beginning to tell; the fierce yellow eyes are growing dim, the huge jaws quiver convulsively, and from their edges the froth and blood drip in hot flakes upon Vladimir’s face. But now, with amighty effort, the wolf wrenches his head from the iron grasp of Vladimir’s left arm, and with one fierce crunch of his strong teeth, breaks the bone below the elbow. The limb drops powerless at his side. One mare desperate stab into the quivering flesh of his enemy, and then he feels the savage teeth fast ening upon his throat; every thing swims around him, there is a rushing as of water in his ears, a thousand sparks dance before his eyes, and then all is blank. “God be praised, brother, that you are still alive!" said a gruff voice in Vladimir’s ear, as he recovered consciousness; while, at the same moment, a soft arm was thrown ronnd his neck, and a fervent “Thank God!” murmnred by a sweet voice that he knew well. “Where ami?” asked Kovroff, looking va cantly ronnd, and recognizing first his wife, and then his host of the evening before. “Where are yon?” repeated Alexey; “why, in my hut, to be sure, where you’ve been ever eince we brought yon in last night. Yon know when you went ont we followed at a distance; and as soon as wo saw you start in chase of the wolf, wo set off after you; but it’s not every body that can ran like you, so we didn’t catch np till ‘Uncle Greycoat’ was beginning to get the best of it. Well, when we’d settled hi "with onr hatchets, we carried you back here; and Sergei Antonovitch ran all the way to Sako’niki for the German* doctor, and he’s been and tied np your arm, and says yon’re sure to recover if you only keep qniet/' And recover he did, sure enough; at least, when I met him at Bogorodskoelastsummer he was well enough to run a mile shoulder to shoul der with me, and break a thick sapling like a stick of sealing wax. And after the race I went home to tea with him, and saw the wolf’s head (its skin he had sold to a Russian officer) nailed up above the door of his hut And the old man who had lent him the knife told me the whole story, jnst as I’ve given it yon; and he told me too, that from that day forward the whole vil lage called Vladimir nothing but “Mujeek Bog- atler,” or the Peasant Hero. D. Kebb. *In peasant parlance, every foreigner is a “Ger man.” Tbe Georgia State Fair—The Hall Park. From the Albany News.] On Monday last we had the pleasure of visit ing, in company with Mayor Huff, the new Fair Grounds at Macon, and, as on former visits, discovered new beauties and now attractions. As the bnildings approach completion tho pic ture increases in splendor and magnificence, and the visitor is at once impressed with the pleasant conviction that the grounds, bnildings and arrangements are not only faultless, bnt perfectly and grandly adapted to the purposes contemplated. The track is, perhaps, superior to any on this continent, being a springy soil, perfectly level, sixty feet wide and jnst a mile on the line three feet from inside railing. In the circle there is not a tree or bnsh or mound—it is a beantifnl plain covered with grass. The stables are ten by twelve feet, well con structed, neatly ornamented and painted white. On the river-side along the last half-mile stretch and opposite tbe Judge’s stand, there is being erected an aiaphi theatrical stand for spectators, three hundred feet long and deep enough to accommodate from five to eight thousand per sons. At the top of the track and jnst at the edge of the grove, an ornate circular music stand was abont being completed. On the lett of this, on emerging from the grove and enter ing the track plain, there is a large, superb and tastily ornamented building, styled “Floral Hall,” and on the right another magnificent structure designated as the “Main Hall.” Just in rear of the former, and embowered in the grand old oaks, the President’s Office was re ceiving its finishing touches, and on a line with it, in rear of the Main Hall, a large eating and dancing hall was going np, and close by a neat little establishment for the editorial fraternity. Still farther to the right a large saloon, ca pable of accommodating two hundred, had been turned over by the carpenters, and the painters were about ready to ply the brash and coat of white. In rear of this, at some distance, a building three hundred feet long and sixty wide, intended for machinery, was nearly com pleted. All the buildings, except tho first fonr named, are situated in the grove and so located as to present a most charming and pleasing pictnre, either from the front or from the track. In the center of the grove there is a half mile track forty feet wide, with an inside railing; and the circle, as well as the entire surface of tho grove, is relieved by a rich growth of Ber muda grass. There are many walks and drives through tbe grove—all spaded by line and bearing the ap pearance of the handiwork of an accomplished gardener. The entrance gate is an imperial archway, with a tower and small offioe on each side. This is a most attractive feature, and assures the ap proaching visitor that genius and taste have been employed in the preparation and adorn ment of Huff Park—the New Fair Grounds for the State Agricultural Society of Georgia. The pen is impotent to describe the beauty, arrangement and adaptation of these grounds. Snffioe it to say that Hon. W. A. Huff has de voted bis time, his energy, his taste and his very heart and soul to the business of prepar ing a place for the State Fair, that Bhall be equal to the occasion and secure the plaudits of the thousands who will be there. All the bnildings will be completed in ample Speecli of Hon. Wm. S. Groesbeek. l‘"- to f a , Hark again' and this time there is no mistak- I lima tor the reception of articles for exhibition, ine tho sound; not the long melancholy howl: and exhibitors may rest assured that so far as wherewith a supperless wolf may be heard be- ! Mayor Huff and the City of Macon are concern- moaning himself, on the outskirts of Moscow, ! ed, or are connected with mangement, there -ce with a huge, gaunt," gray "wolf, as almost any night in the week, bnt a quick ; will be perfect system and complete accommo, " -o® W( 1 blood-thirsty as hunger can make snarling cry, as of one who sees his food near j dation. We doubtnot the President, Secretary at hand, and wishes to hasten its arrival. And and committee will see that the same prevails there, gliding ghost-like over the great waste of tn their departments, and that smooth success snow, comes a long gannt shadow, straight, ■ shall be the verdict of all who attend, swift, unswerving, towards yonder shapeless ! A Wasp Riding a Green Wobii.—On the au- was on a bitter January evening, the l: n- , ore last > that six men were assembled V <** °* the huts which I have described. It L t .,R 0om the common sort, a big bed, with 0,!£ coverlet , filling up one side, the Sat* c ^ e ®t in one comer, a picture of the ,j7 tor on one wall, a picture of the bombard- jj. J 1 Sevastopol on the other,t and thepor- fcaJ asai nt as usual beside the stove, several wooden chairs and a low table, on which ' ^tnovar,” or Russian tea urn, with a on the top of it, while around it b i> a dozen tumblers, fall or empty; for Pit of« J° u know, it’s the way to drink tea M l , ta mblers instead of caps—a fashion L— bna “s one’s fingers shockingly, if it does B else. , 'S^? n8feUul word for an earwig ia “Prus&k,” or L ** —a curious instance of national animosity. [ f poa ? &ntr y are chUdishly fond K £sd n/uJfi 5“ fJ? 0 amallest and poorest huts fkieg BnttJ 0 ** 4 daiflie of Russian victories, or K fittily* 110 ** 0 * ° r tbe members of tbe Impe- swift, unswerving, towards yonder shapeless lamp of carrion on the highway, upon which he pounces with a fierce worrying snarl that makes thority of two persons of veracity, a correspon- even tho bravo heart of the listener stand still dent of the Albany Jonmal tells this: “They for a moment with involuntary horror. Now is saw a wasp riding on a green worm one and a Yladimir’s time! To rush ont at once might J half inches long. How far he had ridden they scare the beast away; he must first try to crip-1 did not know; bnt after they saw him they pie it. The axe flies at the monster’s head with \ watched him until he had ridden all of twenty- the force of a catapult; bnt the dim light de- five feet. Occasionally the worm would stop, ceive3 his aim, and it hits the foreshonlder in- 1 lie motionless as thongh he were dead, when stead, tearing it open with a frightful gash, ; the wasp, after a little, would spur him np, and from which the blood gushes freely over the I then the worm would go on. The wasp would snow. With a sharp howl of pain, the wolf turns and flies; but the swiftest foot in Bogo- rodskoe is hard at his heels. After his long, weary vigil, this breakneck obase is like tbe breath of life to Vladimir, and over this hard, smooth snow, his speed Is a match for any wolf keep the worm in aa direct a course as he could. After awhile the worm stopped, and the wasp dismounted and ran quickly and removed s little stone or piece of ground abont two inches from where the worm lay, and then seizing the worm by the head drew it into the hole. Pres- wonnded like this one. Already he haB almost entiy the wasp came ont, pnt on the gravel top comenp with the game, and is raising his knife over the hole, covered the stone over, andseem- for a snro stroke, when the flying grey shadow ed to be getting ready to fly, when they killed in front of him suddenly wheels ronnd, shoots him, and then dug down abont twojnches and np from the earth like a rocket, and falls right took out the worm, which was dead.” We copy so much of Hon. Wm. S. Groesbeck’a great speech, at Steubenville, Ohio, on tho 13th instant, as relates to the Constitutional Amend ments and the attitude of parties under them. The rest of the speech was a powerful exposi tion of the progress of despotism under Grant’s administration: Mr. Groesbeck, after a few preliminary re marks, local to the occasion, proceeded as fol lows: Important changes have been made in onr po litical condition daring the last ten years, and not a few of onr very best citizens believe we have gone downward. I don’t wonder at this. Tho condition of onr people, prior to 1861, was one of extraordinary contentmentr^nd quiet ness. The peace of the nation had never been broken, and the Constitution had always com manded respect. None of onr earned rights, as we call them, snch as liberty of the person, free dom of speeob, and the like, had been violated. I believe the writ of habeas corpus had not been suspended prior to 18GI. We sought to admin ister the Federal Government for general pur poses, and the State Government for special and home pnrposes, and neither had seriously in vaded the jurisdiction of the other. As oui fathers started, so we had gone on, peacefully, steadily, and without any noticeable depart ure. The Governments over us did not em barrass ns. They were in no sense a burden, and taxation fell a? lightly upon onr homes as a gentle snow. It was a most happy condition for all of us who eDjoyed tho privileges and immunities of citizenship. But all did not en joy these privileges and immunities. There was slavery in the land, abont one in eveiynine of its inhabitants was a slavo. That was our danger, troubling our fathers in the beginning, and troubling us always, and more and more. This brings me to notice the resolutions of our recent State Convention and the changes that have taken place in onr political condition during tho last ten years. They are of two kinds: First.—Changes in the Constitution of the United States. Second.—Changes in the manner of adminis tering the government. What are the changes that have been made in the Constitution ? They are three in camber. Tbe first is this: No slavery shall exist in the United States. SLAVEBY CLEABED AWAY. When the Constitution was adopted slavery was everywhere, in the North as well as in the Sonth, and therefore the Constitution did not forbid it. Very soon, however, and from time to time, the States themselves, acting sepa rately, abolished it within their respective juris dictions, till it was to be found nowhere bnt in the Sonth, and at last it was disturbed and threatened there. The Sonth rebelled at this. War came, a long, bloody, costly civil war, and tho rebellion was overwhelmed and slavery de stroyed. This result is now declared in the Constitu tion. Such a declaration was to be expected The results of successful war are always declar ed in some binding form. If it be a war be tween nations, the results appear in the final treaty; if it be a civil war, they usually appear in some modification of the fundamental law conforming it to tho new condition of the gov ernment. Such is our case. Tbe recent Con stitutional Amendments stand for the final treaty of onr civil war. Look at the question in another aspect. How do tho States now regard slavery? Ohio has declared there shall bo no slavery within her jurisdiction. New York has declared it in her Constitution. Pennsylvania has declared it. Every State in the East and in tkvWest nnd in the North has declared it. Not only this. Every State in thS Sonth has declared it, and remem- berine our past, it is wise and proper that our Federal Constitution should also declare it. Let this trouble be put away from us so that it may never come again. THE OTHEE AMENDMENTS, What is the second change ? In substance, this All persons bom or naturalized in th8 United States are citizens of tbe same, and of the State in which they reside. No State shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States, or deny to any person the equal protection of its laws. There is also in this amendment a clause dis qualifying certain citizens for holding any office under the United States, or onder any State; and another danse affirming the validity of our public debt, and the invalidity of all rebel debts. What is the third? The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged on account of race, color, or previous condition of servi tude. These are the changes made in onr Constitu tion daring tho last ten years—the famous amendments of which we have heard so much, and which are so often referred to, even now. The Thirteenth Amendment, abolishing slavery throughout the United States, is accept ed by all, and in the Sonth as unanimously as in the North. The donbt and hesitation have been abont the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amend ments, because of the means used to procure their adoption, and because of tho change they make in the relations whioh had always existed between the Federal Government and the State governments. In the language of our recent State Conven tion, the means used to procure the adoption of these two amendments were extraordinary, vio lent and unsatisfactory. There is no thinking, right-minded man who desires that a single other amendment may be made to the Constitu tion as these were made; for it is impossible to preserve its sacredness under snch treatment. THE SUTBEME COTJBT CANNOT SET THEM ASIDE. The Constitution should never be lightly dealt with; nor should it be altered for mere party advantage, and any amendments pro posed shonld be fairly submitted to a free and unthreatened judgment. Snch was the case in reference to all amendments previously made; snch is not the case in reference to these two. But I do not care to dwell npon the history of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments, for I see nothing in their history that will destroy their validity. You cannot invalidate legisla tion" by showing it is tainted with fraud. It may be admitted that an act of Congress was was passed by undue means; that coercion, bribery, and all kinds of corruption were applied to effect its passage, and yet the Court cannot set it aside. The validity of a statute cannot be impeached on Buch grounds, nor can the validity of a constitutional amendment. No court has jurisdiction to inquire into the cir cumstances under whioh either was passed. The only question is, were they in fact passed. If they were, all Courts must recognize them. Could I go into onr Supreme Court and impair the vitality of an act of Congress by showing that enough Congressmen to change the result had been coerced to vote for it, or bribed to vote for it 1 Clearly, I could not, nor could I successfully attack a constitutional amendment on these gronnds. The Supreme Court has no supervision over the action of Congress in pass ing a statute, or over the action of State Legis latures or State Conventions in adopting a con stitutional amendment It would be unwise to confer upon the Su preme Court such extraordinary jurisdiction. The fanlt is not in the machinery of the govern ment. If is as complete as it shonld be; bnt it is not complete enongh, and hnman invention cannot make it perfect enongh to prevent or correct every possible abuse, and we must de pend, at last, for the right management of many important political ooncems npon the good con duct of the people themselves. This Is far bet ter and safer than to trust unlimited power to any department of the government. We may not look to the Supreme Court to de clare these amendments Eunoonstitutional; it has no jurisdiction over them. We may not look to the States to annul them by a farther amendment; it requires three-fourths of them to concur in such a movement; that number will not concur in such a movement. And we throw them in some other way; the people have already aocepted them. The destruction of slavery is acknowledged and approved by all, and our colored population has voted in every State of the Union, at onr local and general eleotions, again and again, and without chal lenge or molestation. These amendments will stand. Suffrage, once granted, cannot be re called ; suffrage that has been practised will not be surrendered. I approve the action of onr recent convention on this subject. I regret the unfairness and spirit of domination in whioh some of these amendments were carried, and this unfairness and force shonld always be con demned, lest they become a precedent for the fnture. I regret also the tendency to encroach ment upon State sovereignty manifested in these amendments. Bat the State is not destroyed, and we may yet preserve it, if we have the good sense no longer to waste onr strength npon ques tions that have passed to final judgment. THE AMENDMENTS ABE GOOD IN THEMSELVES. Letters to Sonth Georgia Farmers— IV’o. S. The changes, stated in the fewest words, are these: No person shall be a slave, and all bora or naturalized here shall be citizens, with equal civil and political rights. When bnt a mere handfnl of onr colored pop ulation was free, and the great mass of them in slavery, the question of their civil and politioal rights wa3 not before us. Such a question could not properly arise till slavery was removed. Now all of this population are free. They are a great multitude—abont one-eighth of onr peo ple. I do not think it good statesmanship in such governments as onrs to make so large a mass of freemens subject class, or to hold them permanently in an inferior or degraded condi tion. Slavery was always a danger. This other condition of the colored people would be a dan ger also, ever troubling na and threatening onr peace. Many of yon will remember when the party now in power endeavored to dislranohise onr foreign-bom population. It succeeded for a time, but Democracy at lost triumphed and saved the politioal rights of onr foreign-bom. One of the reasons that justified ns applies to the case of onr colored population. They are more numerous than our foreign-bom population was in tho days of Know-Nothingism; they are just as free; the Constitution no longer restrains or embarrasses U3 - , and onr very Democracy requires that we shonld act now as we did then. And why should we not ? Have this people ever wionged ns? How or when? It is they who have been wronged. Shall Democracy point its gnns npon the lowly and unfortunate ? It would be an unmanly warfare. Point your gnns yon der, npon the national Capitol—at the high places, against imperialism and. absolutism. There is yonr danger, and there is to be yonr straggle. NEGE0 SUTTBAGB WAS TOO MUCH HASTENED, I must believe that the extension of the right of suffrage to that part of our colored popula tion just emancipated was too much hastened. According to the theory of our Government, all shonld make some preparation for the re sponsible duties of a fall citizenship. To this end, wo delay tho foreigner by our naturaliza tion laws; to this end we open schools for all. But the work is done, and we should make tho best of it. Depending upon the school and tho chore" ,nd summoning them to their utmost exertU-i, let us go forward, hopefully and brave ly. After all, it is not the most learned that do the best voting. The farmer votes as wisely as tho professor, and the humble are quite as true to free government as the exalted and assuming. THE CONSTITUTION STILL EXCELLENT. These are the changes made in onr Federal Constitution during the last ten years. I have been requested to notice them. I should have noticed them without request; for there seems to be an apprehension with many that the old Constitution has been spoiled or put aside. Far from it. That same Constitution which our fathers had, and to which the Democracy has been so falthfnl through all onr history, is onr Constitution to-day. These amendments have been added to it, and that is all. The Consti tution remains still an excellent Constitution, and the State remains with ample sovereignty to do its proper work. We have no right to des pond as if all were lost, nor shonld we spend onr strength in a vain straggle to get back to a condition which can never be restored. Ad minister the Constitution as amended, accord ing to the torm3 and directions contained within it, and all will be well. The mischief is not in the Constitution. THE SXATE3 AND THE FEDEBAL GOYEBNMENT. Now, as heretofore, onr Union Is a limited government, with only such powers as are del egated to it; now, as heretofore, all powers not delegated to it are reserved to the States or the people; now, as heretofore, and • under the Constitution as it is, the States hold ample sovereignty for the management of all their home interests. This doctrine cannot be aban doned. Alas for ns if the State as onr fathers made it Bhall ever disappear from our system of government. The peril so xeoently encoun tered enables ns to realize what a calamity it would have been if the war had destroyed our Union. Not less disastrous would be the ca lamity if the States, as such, shonld be destroy ed or changed into something else and less. Onr Federal Government and our State Gov- erhments, nnder the Constitution, make to gether one complex system. Each is limited,* and neither complete enough to do all we need to have done. The Federal Government is to have the charge of interests that are common to all; the State Governments of interests that are special, each State taking charge of its own in terests. The State shall not do .the work of the Federal Government; the Federal Government shall not do the work of the State. Each is su preme within the limits of its powers, and the people are supreme over both. We worship neither, for they are the work of onr own hands, and made to servo ns. We hear, on the hand, that the States owe their life to eral Government, and, on the otb« r the Federal Government owes its_ life tome States. This is tak»ug on high airs. In the presence of tho pebple, they are both clay in tho hands of the potter, and ia the truest sense, neither made the other. The people made both. What did the people mean when they made the State; or, rather, what is meant by the sovereignity of the State? It is meant that the State has exdosive authority and power to manage its own internal affairs. Nothing more than this, but nothing less. In homely phrase, the doctrine is this: Each of these organiza tions shall mind its own business, and neither meddle with that of the other. This is as sound a doctrine for our government as for our indi vidual daily life. This'is the doctrine whioh makes free men and free communities, and which underlies all onr politioal institutions, even to the most insignificant. The Constitu tion of the United States acknowledges it, every State Constitution is full of it, and every coun ty, township and city throughout onr wide land is daily practising npon it. It started far back with onr colonial ancestors; they grew and strengthened with it; they cherished it; they fought for it—fought seven years for it; they triumphed with it, and laid the foundations of these governments upon it. We, too, will oherish it; we will fight for it; we will triumph with it, and the party that violates it shall be ground into dust. Political Pointing.—The New York Printing Company, the capital of which is $25,ow. owned by five politicians, must be a prettr£f9 od thing in a pecuniary sense. The New York oun says that in 18G8 it received from the oounty of New York $580,000 for prinU°g> 1 $1,080,000, and in four montbaf^ 7 ^? 3 .*.^ making in round numbers $1,700,000 in two yearefrom the county a 1000 * How much the company received at the same time from the city for similar services is not known; bnt the Sun says that must also have been a handsome The tobacco crop in Connecticut, now about gathered, is enormous. Few if any preceding years have produced crops to surpass it in weight of leaf, and all appearances indicate that the quality will also be superior. Geobge F. Beede, of Fremount, N, H., has onions enough on less than an aore of ground may not look to the people to combine to over- to buy a thousand bushels of corn. BY HERBERT STELDEB. We should not underrate the wisdom of past ages or despise the lessons of experience. But this is an age of development, and the suprem acy of mind over matter, and the tendencies are to still higher achievements in that direc tion. I need not remind yon that in order to keep pace with advancing civilization, your sons and daughters must be educated. But I wish to impress upon you my views of the im portance of practical education, to prepare each for the sphere in which he or she is to move. I do not object to, bnt would encourage the higher degrees of mental culture when they are attainable. Bnt they are not within the reach of thousands of onr best and moBt useful peo ple. If you have a son whose taste and talents fit him for a mechanic, direct his education in that channel best calculated to develop those talents. If he is to be a manufacturer, why try to educate him for the pulpit or the bar? If he is to be a lawyer why train him for a doctor or civil engineer? If he is to be a farmer, why not make him one worthy his noble calling? The world ia made np of classes forming one harmonious system, and between whom there is no real oonflict. Yon all have to take your part in the administration of civil jurisprudence. But when it comes to tbe conduct of cases and the exposition of law, you regard these as the pre rogatives of lawyers and Judges. When our fellow creatnreB are afflicted we are ever ready to lend a helping hand to relieve suffering hu manity. Bnt in matters of pathology and treat ment, we stand aside in favor of those learned In the science of physio. We all feel a deep in terest in publio morals, the prosperity of the church and progress of Christianity, bnt in administration of holy ordinances and the ex position of sacred scripture, none of ns feel hu miliated in deferring to the learned clergy. Railroad men, merchants and traders, capital ists and brokers, all powerful and useful in their spheres, can continue among themselves and shape a policy for the good of all, and it is unmanly in one class to despise or underrate the others. t" You, as a class, have made some mistakes. One has been in standing aside and invoking speculators, upon visionary theories, to lead in your agricultural literature, and to do the think ing which your own calling imperatively de manded at yonr own hands. The great aim is to make farming a praotical success to the masses, and to bring ‘to them prosperity and happiness through this channel. You have among yon, men highly endowed by nature, and whoso prerogative and duty it is to.lead in yonr own calling, and to bring it to the highest state of perfection. For, without underrating others, it is tha noblest and best on earth; and the one on which, in great part, all others depend. Without you the mariner’s ship would rot at the wharf, the manufacturer’s wheels cease to turn, banker and broker would close, the trades and professions dwarf, and civilization itself decline. Improvement and progress are rife in every de partment of enterprise. Why isitthat agricul ture does not keep pace ? Is it for want of na tural talents; or is it because men do not em bark in it with the same pride and ambition to excel which they have in entering other indus trial pursuits? I would not discourage our youth from seeking wealth and distinction by thevarioos trades, by becoming skilled me chanics and manufacturers. I hope to live to seo tho day when those titles, really as honora ble, will be everywhere regarded with as much favor and as eagerly sought after as the learned professions, and when young men trill consult their natural talents in selecting their avoca tions. If this practice should generally prevail we should see every department more properly filled and ably sustained. Every man who is a fanner, no matter how small the scale of his enterprise, ought to feel without arrogance, that he is a Prince upon his own acres. He ought to be a free thinker and a bold actor upon his own stage—not in devis ing means to abdicate his power and shake of his dominions, bnt to enlarge, enricb, beautify, and make them profitable and attractive. This is among the highest attributes of onr civiliza tion. It is the mainspring of onr aggregate happiness. It is one of the main pillars npon whioh publio virtue reposes—and he who strengthens it, is a benefactor of his race. Take charge of yonr own department and make it self-sustaining in mind as well as matter —do its thinking, planning and executing. As sociated action must be combined with individ ual efforts. Make the wisdom of experience by the best minds the light to guide the million— organize neighborhood clnb3 and societies— meet and interchange yonr accnmnlated intelli gence nntil the material ideas of the best lead ers become the common property of all—hold yonr county, district and State fairs. They have had their useless money-spending and im moral features and appendages. It is your pre rogative to vote these out and reform them. But if you cannot or will not do that, yon can at least tnm over horse racing, and gambling, and other objectionable practices to those who have a taste for them, and money and time to spend in them. You can in this way make your fairs what they shonld be for practicable ends. Bring together yonr horticultural and agricultu ral produots, yonr domestio manufactures and ornaments, your improved machinery and im plements for saving labor and superior culture, yonr improved seeds and methods of planting, your improved breeds of animals, and every thing by which useful knowledge may be « tven or received. Instead of makiiw J 0 ^ 1 5 alra a grand frolic for spending r»«uey, make them a commentary upon th* advancing civilization of the State • and *> c every one who attends them return wb va mind stored with intelligence that will profit him or her in the great battle of life, uet the emulation be who can produce the most with the least expense and labor—who can be the most independent at home—who can make and have the most and the best domestio manu factures, and the moat home conveniences and oomforts—who can have the best ornamented and most pleasure-giving homestead—tho most and best provision snpplieB of his own prodne- tion—the fattest hogs and cattle—the moBt milk and butter, and poultry—the best horse-power, rolling stock and implements—the richest fields and gardens, and the happiest and best con tented wives and children. If such a spirit can once move all onr people, and pervade the land generally, we shonld hear of ten willing to come where one wished to leavens. Lands and everything would gonp in price to intrinsic value, and general peace and contentment spread over all. There would rise from it a clond of incense before the great Throne of mercies above, through which the richest blessings of heaven would distil upon aS and we should live to see the old land w» love rise like the phoenix from her ashes an^fP 81 * 10 like a diamond upon the fkce of tN nations of the earth. Tlie Flying Trapeze m the Air—The Feats of a Tlght-Rope Performer and Hagldan nt a Height or Three Hundred Fee* In the air. Correspondence of the New York World. Reading, Berks Co., Pa., Sept. 7. One of the most extraordinary and almost incredible exhibitions of hnman intrepidityand daring was laBt Monday, the 4th insb, witness* ed by the citizens of this plaoe. It seemed to me to eqnal if not surpass in thrilling and nsin ful interest anything ever attempted by‘Sam Patch or Blondin in their wildest effort. An in dividual named Donaldson—a tight-rope walker and “magician,” as he styles himself—who had on the previous Wednesday made a balloon ascension in the ordinary way (the first balloon ascent of any kind he bad ever madeinhislife), repeated hie performance on Monday last, bnt this time with no basket attached to his balloon —nothing whatever, in fact, but a common trapeze. Upon this he seated himself with the greatest coolness and composure, and went float ing away into spaoe, to the astonishment of the large crowd which had gathered to see him, bat few cheers greetinghim, as the spectators seem ed spell bound with fear and apprehension. Af ter ascending to a considerable distance ha commenced throwing out .a number of circu lars which he had attached to a little hoop below the balloon, and which in the dear atmosphere appeared like twinkling stars surrounding the balloon, prodacing a most novel and pleasing effect. But this was nothing to what followed. At the height of some three hundred feet he commenced balancing Limawlf on his back on the bar of the trapeze, and going through other fearfal evolutions. He then de liberately slid from the bar head downwards, and catching himself by the feet, remained sus pended for several seconds in that awful posi tion ! The appalling sight was one never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it. A thrill and a low mnrmur of horror passed through the immense multitude, who were looking on with intensest interest, and many hurried away from the sight giddy and faint. The daring aeronaut, however went through his evolutions snooeea- fully, and regaining his seat, went scaring rap idly and steadily upwards. When at the height of three-quarters of a mile he had the astound ing nerve to repeat his performance, which at so great a distance, could only be clearly visible by the aid of glasses. What made this ascent all the more hazardous is that the balloon is a very small one, carrying bnt little ballast, and with nothing bnt a light anohor attached to the hoop. i I am glad to say that the rerenant completed his voyage safely, although he once or twice seemed to bo in considerable danger. The tra peze struck the roof of Henry Connard’s resi dence, on 5th street, when Mr. Donaldsonmade a skillful leap from tlie trapeze, and prevented a collision. The balloon then ascended and came down again on the other side of the' road in a field, and was abont striking tho top of a tree, when Mr. Donaldson turned a somersault on the trapeze rope and prevented the bar from catching in the tree. There is some talk of our having a repetition of thi3 painful exhibition during onr fair next week, if the authorities do not interfere to prevent it.' It really seems to me that they shon’d, and that it is also the duty of the leading press of the country to denounce such reckless and unnecessary risk of human life for the mere gratification of morbid excite- 24 ment. « ' eli Old Times. From the Petersburg Progress.] There is an elderly colored gentleman, a gen tleman in every sense of tho word, who holds forth as a tonsorial professor ia tho Exchange Hotel, Richmond. Lomax Smith is a relic of tho palmy times of Virginia; he regularly shaved Mr. Madison, John Randolph, and Wat kins Leigh; he was the enp-bearer, head-musi cian, punch-concoctor, and, in fact, the presid ing genius of the “Old Richmond Blues” in the days when George Munford led that rare com mand and had under his leadership the bluest blood of the Ancient Dominion! Submitting onr face the other morning to the still skillful manipulation of the venerable Smith, the writer enjoyed heartily the monolo gue with which the Professor interlarded his “lather and shave.” “A nice collection of gentlemen, sir,” said Lomax, “this convention at Assembly Hall; many very genteel and able persons there, sir. It does me good to see again in Virginia the best people coming forward to take part in pol itics. 'And, yes, sir, there are some great men / here, too—scattered abont among the hundreds I don’t know; but—excuse me, sir, tnm your face a little to the left—yon can’t remember the convention of ’29, can you? Too young! Yes, yes! Well, there was Mr. Jeems Madison, and that other gentleman, very smart bnt mighty flighty, Mr. Randolph, of Roanoke, and more than I can call now. Yon haze got big men here to-day, bnt God bless my son], air; they was all giants then; there wasn’t an humble in dividual here. Giants, sir, giants, every one.” And Lomax restrapped his razor, turned our head gently, and began again: “And how did they come here, Bir ? Omni busses, hacks? Not they? Private carriages, private servants; and every one had a square mahogany box, with silver mountings; in this were fonr square bottles trimmed with vines and leaves in gold; one held old pineapple rum, one brandy, and honey, peaoh and honey, sir, one sherry, and one Madeira. No whisky—and no drinking at bars. The case was in every delegate’s room, with the key put away, but”— and here Lomax thonghtfolly and suggestively drew his razor through the palm of an honest hand—^“their constituents knew where the key was, Sir. Yes, sir! And shaving then waa fifty cents. No change! Those were days. Why nothing now is as good as it was, and I can tell the reason. Ever since 1850, Sir, when they got up this universal suffrage, things have bees going down, down, down. I never used to shave anybody then, that was nobody; and now I hardly ever shave anybody that is anybody. Yes, Sir, that 1850 suffrage commenced the whole thing, and now nothing is like it nsed to be. Why sausage, sir, sausage 1 The old Yir* ginia luxury! What is it now? It used to be made out of the choicest parts of the hog; and now yon’re lucky if it’s hog at aft and when it is, there’s nothing bnt gristle «nd lean.” Then Lomax drew a loug sigh and reached our fore-hair; “Coffee f I haven’t seen any oof- fee for ten years. It looks Eke coffee and it smells like coff«o, bnt it isn’t coffee, sir, depend upon it!" ... New Jersey has publish^ 0® following pa thetic epitaph: She was not smart ehexeaa not fair, But hearts wj•M n SL£ r £ e t r 0X0 BveUm ; All empty j>Mnds her little chair— ghe Jilt of eatm’ walermelin. 2 tfABATOGA belle is described by John G. p*xe, in a letter to the Albany Jonmal, a3 a poetical selection: “ Hark to the music of her borrowed tone; Observe the blush that purchase makes her own; See the sweet smile that sheds its beaming rays; False as the bloom where her diamonds blaze.” Tee following is the conclusion of an epitaph on a tombstone: “She lived a fife of virtue, and died of the cholera morbus, caused by eating green finit in the full hope of a bless ed immortality, at the early age of twenty-one years, seven months and sixteen days. Read er, go thou and do likewise.” A youth named John Kelly, aged seventeen, employed in Golden's flint-works, Trenton, New Jersey, fell through a hole in the floor, last Saturday, when he was ran into the wheels, and his body passed out into the water below, literally ground up. Xji<? Open Sesame at tbe Branch. Under this head the New York Sun (Rep.) Of Saturday tells the following story: On Monday two prominent gentlemen of city visited the Administrative Cottage at Long Branch on business. They sent in their cards, which were promptly returned with the message that the “President was too busily engaged with pnblio affairs to grant them an audienoe.” They turned away dispirited, and were descend ing the stoop when a barouche drove up con taining a gorgeously attired colored citizen, who sent in his card, as the othera had done before. The two gentlemen stopped to watch the result. The same answer was returned, but the darkey exclaimed: “Tell marse Grant I got something for him.” In a few moments he was admitted. He had taken to the President five pounds of cheese. A Tribute to Mb, Stephen.—The Philadel phia Press, Forney’s paper, in a late issue, pays the following compliment to our distin guished fellow-citizen, the Hon. A. H. Stephens r Alexander H. Stephens, of Georgia, late United States Senator, Confederate States Vice- President, etc., keeps the Southern Democracy in a continual excitement through the columns of his newspaper, and on the whole, in an er ratic sort of way, seems to be doing a good deal for the cause of “the best government tbe world ever saw.” i/ We had a call from Mr. MoMiohael, of the Thomaston Herald yesterday, and were pleased to learn from him that Thomaston is in a pros- deroos and improving condition.
