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About Weekly Georgia constitutionalist and republic. (Augusta, Ga.) 1851-185? | View Entire Issue (April 27, 1853)
JUisfftlflnrm. The Value of Punctuality. A STORY DILATORY YOUNG LADIES SHOULD READ. “ I will call for you at eight o’clock precise ly,” said a young man. as he stood at the door ot a house in Bleeker street, with the hand of a gentle girl in his. He had taken it as he said “good bye,” and held it longer than usual. •’ Very well. I shall be quite ready,” returned the maiden. The cars start at a quarter past eight precisely. We must not leave here a minute later than eight o'clock.” •' Not if we expect to join the private party at Mott Haven.” “ Good night, Anna.” “ Good night.” As the maiden responded to her Lover's good night, her hand, that lay in his, was gently t ressed. That pressure sent a thrill of joy to the heart. Henry Colton had not yet declared his love for Anna Milner, but little tokens of its existence were not wanting. Anna had few doubts or fears on this subject. She felt for him a deep tenderness, and questioned not the fact of its return. On the next morning, Colton was at the house precisely as the clock struck eight. He asked for Anna. The servant went up stairs and re turned. saving that she would l>e ready in a mo ment. One. two. three, four, five, six minutes passed, and she did not appear The young man. who was thoroughly punctual in everything both from principle and habit, became impatient The cars loft the station at a quarter past eight o’clock precisely, and it would take at least five , minu’es to walk there. It was seven minutes past eight when Anna ; at length made her appearance. " I am reahy sorry to have kept you waiting. j Mr. Colton.” she said. " but I couldn't help it ' We have plenty of time to get to the cars, I ; hope ” “ As much as the bargain.” returned the young j man “I’ is now seven minutes past eight.” “Oh.l have forgotten my parasol 1 will get it in a moment.’’ And away sprang Anna In about a minute her little feet were heard pat tering down stairs. ■ 1 am all ready now. said she. when half way down. “No . I declare I’ve dropped one of my gloves in the chamber," and back she went. Very punctual men are usually impatient ot delay- .. “Too bad I" muttered Colton, “we shall be left as sure as the world. Why will people be so thoughtless , Just at ten minutes past eight o clock they left the house. To reach the cars in time would require rapid walking. Os course Mr. Colton would have to appear in a hurry in the street with a young lady bv his side, a thing that an noyed him excessively; but there was no alter native. They proceeded at a quick step in si lence. . . •• One moment, driver,” said Colton, hurried ly. as he passed that individual, who was just in the act of sneaking to the horses. “ Be quick then.” returned the driver, impa tiently muttering something in addition about a certain people always coming at the last minute, which Colton only heard. The excitement and hurry of the two young people cause 1 several thoughtless people a good deal of merriment, which was rather loudly ex pressed. Colton’s cheek burned, and his lips quivered, when he seated himself with Anna, on the sunny side of the car. The moment he set his foot on the platform the cars commenced moving. „ , ” Like to hive been left, Colton. U hy, what in the world made you so late?” said a young man.cne of the pleasure party that was going out on a kind of pic-nic to Westchester county; “ we’ve all been waiting here for the last ten minutes.” “ It was all my fault.” spoke up Anna, whose face was glowing from the excitement and rapid walking. “ I had no idea that the morning was passing so swiftly. I might have been ready in good time enough, but did nt think eight o clock came so soon.” Colton said nothing. He was worried, and didn't care to let his tone of voice reflect his true feelings. In a little while they were gliding rapidly away from the crowded city. The puffing loco motive was soon substituted for horses. Hall an hour more, and the gay, party, consisting ol about forty young ladies and gentlemen, left the cars, and proceeded to a fine grove about a quar ter of a mile from the track of the railroad, where they proposed to spend the day. Pleasant company and a pleasant ride dispell ed from the mind of Colton the effect produced by Anna Milnor’s want of punctuality. The excitement attendant upon starting had given an unusual brightness to her countenance, and quickened her flow of spirits. She was the life of the company. Every time the young man’s eve rested on her through the day it was in ad miration, and everytime her tones reached his ear they came with sweeter music than before. “She is indeed, a lovely creature!” he more than once said to himself. The impression made by the unpleasant occurrence ot the morning had nearly worn off. so charmed was he with all that Anna said and did through the day. Time wore on, and the sun ranged low in the horizon. The cars were to pass a x>ut half past six o’clock, when the partv must be at the stopping place, or have the pleasure of walking home, a distance of nearlv ten miles. About half-past five notice was given by some of the more thoughtful ones that it was time to be making preparations for leaving the ground. Oh. it’s plenty of time yet.” said one—“it’s onlv a little step over to the railroad.” “ But it will take at least half an hour to make all our arrangements forgetting away,” was re plied “ Better be an hour too soon than a min ute too late lor the cars.” “ So sav I.” chimed in Colton and some others, who took upon themselves the task of getting everything, as fast as they could, in readiness to leave the ground. ” There’s plenty of time.” said Anna Milnor gaily to Colton. “ Come, you must be my part ner in this cotillion. • 1 shouldn’t like to walk ten miles to-night.” wa- hfr reply.” " Nor I : hut there is time enough. We can wall to rhe railroad in ten minutes.” Colton could not refuse Anna’s request, and so he joined, ’hough reluctantly, the cotillion. Time sped quickly on. When the music ceased it was six o’clock. All was now burry and bustle among the greater portion of the company : but Anna still insisted that there was plenty of time, and ac tually induced a small number to commence another cotillion. Several remonstrated, and urged the necessity of immediate departure : but they were only laughed at for their impati ence. Colton bit his lips with vexation at such thoughtlessness. He saw that Anna was the ru ling spirit in this opposition to the prudent de sire of the majority to be at the stopping place of the cars in good time, and this worried him. It brought too vividly before his mind the inci dents of the morning. At last, even she felt that the time had come for making a speedy departure. The little group that had been seemingly governed by her, sep arated, and commmenced hasiy preparations for leaving the spot. This took longer than they expected. Last of all to get away was Anna Milnor. By the time she left, some had nearly reached the track of the railroad. “ There, as I live,” she exclaimed, after she had started with Colton, and had gone a couple of hundred yards.l have lost my bracelet !” As she said this she turned and ran back at full speed. Colton called after her that they would certainly be left behind the cars : but she did not heed him. His only alternative was to run back also, and help her to search for the bracelet. “ I’ve got it,” she cried, in a moment after reaching the ground, and then came bounding back to meet her vexed and excited lover. “ We shall certainly be left behind,” he said. “ Come, run then,quick,” Anna returned, and sprung away like a young fawn. There was not asi ogle member of the party in sight. All had hastened on to the stopping place of the cars, the most indifferent now feeling alarm lest they should be too late. “ It’s nearly half-past six,” remarked Colton, glancing at his watch, as he came up to the side of the hurrying maiden. “ We’ll soon be there,” was her encouraging reply. “ There’s net a moment to spare. Ha! the engine bell, as sure as I’m alive! We are too late.” “ Perhaps not. Some of the party are there, and the conductor will certainly wait fbr us.” The rest of the distance was traversed with swift feet, and in silence. Fortunately, they reached the stopping place just in time to get iwtotne ears, but excited, over-heated and pant ing from exertion. “Just saved your distance,” said the conduct or, smiling. “ My shawl, where is it?” exclaimed one of the ladies of the party, looking around her in alarm, soon after the cars were in motion. “ I don’t know. Have you lost it ?” asked a companion. “It was on my arm when we started; but I was so afraid of being left behind that I didn’t notice when or where I dropped it.” Quietly seated in t- e cars, all had leisure now to think whether they had lost or left anything behind. It was soon discovered that one was short a handkerchief, another a bag, a third a collar, and a fourth a bracelet, and so on. But for these losses t here was no remedy. Every moment the swift speeding engine was bearing them farther away from the spot where they had spent th» day so pleasantly. “ Well,” remarked Colton, in a half laughing, half serious voice, “ I hope this will be a lesson on punctuality for all of us ffwe bad quietly made our arrangements for leaving the ground an hour ago there would have been none of these Josses to regret. We should have been at the railroad track hall an hour before the cars came along, so that there would have been time enough to have returned for anything then missed.” •• y Ol , needn’t say anything.” spoke up one. “ Tou wr- e the last to reach the cars both com ing and goin '■ A lecturer on punctuality should be punctual bin ’self” lln- wa-. said jestingly > but 11 touched Colton in a tender spot. . • No, no;” it’s not fair to blame him/ Anna Spoke up; it war all mv fault.” “ I wich it hadn’t been,” was Coitori’s mental reply. When he retired to bed that night the yotmg man did n-.t teel hajipy. His mind was <fi* turbed. Why? He knew of only one cause Anna Milnor's conduct had rod ©leased him. There was a defect in her character, wiih which, let it exist whether it would, he had no kind of patience. It was so easy to be punctu- : «1, and so wrong not to lie particular 00 th I I head, that he could find no excuse for it even in the gill he loved. It was a week before Colton could feel just in the frame of mind to visit Anna Milnor. Five minutes passed in her presence was sufficient to dispel all unpleasant impressions that her con duct had produced. There was a charm in her person, mind, and manner that thoroughly capti vated him. He was again a constant visitor. As for Anna, she waited only a declaration from her lover. Her heart was fully his. But he was not quite ready to make the declaration. Colton had a cool head as well as a warm heart. He was orderly in his habits, and regulated his conduct in life upon fixed principles. In choos ing a wife he would not permit himself to be governed entirely by his feelings. He saw that Anna had defects of chaaracter, and one defect that in his estimation, would have a vary im portant bearing upon his future happiness. Be fore advancing a step farther he determined to see how deeply seated this defect lay, and whether there was any hope of its being cor rected. “ I will call for you next Sunday morning.” he said to her one day,“ and walk with you to church.” “ I shall be very happy to have your company was her pleased reply. “I will now see,” he said to himself, “how deeply seated lies this want of punctuality.— Surely she will regard the orderly observance ot external worship too highly to permit herself to be a moment too late. Anna Milnor could not be guilty of disturbing a worshipping assembly by entering after the services have begun ’ Half-past ten the hour for services to com- I nrence. I I '• Do, Anna," said Mrs. Milnor, as the family ■ I arose from the break fast-table on the next Snb , bath morning, “try and get ready in time to go , with your father and myself to church. 1 am | really tired at your want of punctuality in this | matter.” I I “ Ob, never fear.” returned the daughter; " I i shall be ready. There is plenty of time. I “So you always say. Go and begin to dress, now.” ~il “ Dress now ! Why, it's only eight o clock-. I can get ready in half an hour, at the farthest, i You won’t start before me.” Saying this, Anna took up her little brother I in her arms, and commenced sporting with him. An hour after, Mrs. Milnor heard her voice in the parlor. . “ Anna, dear, do begin to dress tor church, she called down to her. “ It's only nine o’clock, mother. There is plenty of time. I’ll be ready as soon as you are.” “ I declare it’s half past nine o’clock, and, that thoughtless girl basn t gone to her chambei yet, ’ 1 the mother said, and she heard the clock strike the. half hour. “ Anna Idogo up and dress your self. lam out of patience with you.” “ I’ll be ready now before you will, ’ the daughter said, as she bounded up stairs. A new dress had come home on the evening before. It ■ was not to be worn that day; but as she had not ' yet tried it on, she felt a desire to do so, and as -1 certain its fit. There was plenty of time to dress for church. She tried on the dress. There was ' some defect about it. Certain folds, somewhere, ’ did not lie just to her taste. These were adjust- > ed and re-adjusted over and over again ; but they were incorrigible. While thus engaged, she was ’ aroused by the voice ot her mother. 1 “ Anna, come, it is just ten, and we are all ’ ready to start.” 5 “Don’t wait for me mother; I will be along ' in a little while. Mr. Colton is going to call * for me,” returned the daughter, startled to find 1 that it was too late, and hurriedly taking off the new dress. t In about ten minutes afterwards Mr. Colton I rang the bell. t “Tell him that I will be down in a few mo- I > ments,” was sent down by the servant, who 1 brought the wqrd of his arrival. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, but the 5 young lady had not yet appeared. 1 “l am really grieved,” murmured the young s man to himself. “It seems hardly possible that ” any one can be so thoughtless. I met her father k and mother some distance on their way to church as I came along.” d Just then Anna came hurrying down stairs, e It lacked four minutes of church time; and the walk was one of full ten minutes. y “ I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Anna said; “ but, really I had no idea that it was so If late.’ I scarcely noticed the flight of time.” >f We shall be late,” was Colton’s only reply e to this. “I know we will : but we must, walk fast. I, Oh ! I have left my handkerchief.” She glided upstairs, and did not come down I- again for two or three minutes. They seemed d as long as a period of ten minutes to the mind of e Colton. n When the young couple entered tne church, d the minister was reading a portion of the ser e vice. All was silence, profound and deep atten s tion. Their coming in evidently disturbed the - congregation. This was felt acutely by Colton, s who never enjoyed public worship so little in >• his life. e After all was over, he returned with Anna to e her home; but he said little on the way; he i ; could not. His abstraction of manner was so 1 I marked, that even Anna could not help noticing i it. She never remembered to have seen him so e I dull. At the door of her father’s house, he bow -1 I ed formally, and retired. ? ; “How could you do so, Anna?” her mother t i said, as soon as she had entered the house. t ' “Do what mother?” - I “Come so late tochurch,afterall I said to you - j this morning. And worse than all, to keep Mr. Calton waiting for you until after service had s commenced. It was plain that he was greatly annoyed.” : “ I didn’t see that he was,” Anna returned, ■ with a slight expression of surprise. But she now remembered that he said very little wbde either coing or cocking. It might be that her ■, mother’s suggestion was too near the truth— j ■ Anna was not happy during the rest ot the day. ’ i ■' It’s no use disguising the fact,” Colton said to himself, as he walked slowly homeward— r j She will not suit me, J. should be worried o:u: ■ ;of my life by her want of punctuality. Three times has she already subjected me to annoyance ’ . and mortification. These have wot red me i enough. How could it be if I were subjected to i : such things every day of my life ? It would I kill me outright. No, no, Anna Milnor, you are i a sweet fascinating creature. I love you more i i than 1 dare confess to myself; but I cannot make s you <ny v ife; that would be risking too much.” i Thus reason urged ; but feeling was not scea- > ; siiy subdued ; it pleaded long for the charming I I girl—but ii pleaded in vain. Colton was a young ' • j man of decided He never permitted ■ ; himself to take a step IW his judgment clearly I ■ condemned. : I « I hav’n’t seen you with Anna Miinoir late- ■ j ly,” said s friend to him a few months after i I wards. “ No.,’ “ How is that ?” “ Why do you ask the question 1” “ You used to be very particular in your at- j tentions in that quarter.” “Perhaps I was ; but am not now.” “She is a lovely girl.” “ That she is truly.” “Just the one for you.” “ No.” “ I think she is.” i “ While I, the party most interested, think otherwise.” “ What is your objection ?” “ She comes late to church ?” “ What ?” “ She is not punctual.” “ You are jesting.” “ No ; don’t you remember the pic-nic ?” “ Yes, and how you and she were late both in going and returning.” “ All her fault. I don’t want a wife who has no a regard for punctuality. It would annoy me to death.” “ But surely that is not your objection ?” “ I have no other.” “ You are foolish.” “ Perhaps so ; but I can’t help it. My wife must be punctual, and no mistake.” Colton showed bimself to be in earnest. Much I as it cost him, he steadily resisted the inclination | that was constantly urging him to renew his at tentions to Anna Milnor. As for the young la dy, she was unhappy for several months. Then she was consoled by the attentions of a new, and less fastidious lover. She paid as little re gard to punctuality as ever, but this was a defect of only minor importance in the eyes of the i young man who had made up his mind to offer her his hand. Colton was invited to her wedding about a i year after the date of this unpleasant pic-nic ad- I venture. A large and brilliant party were as sembled to witness the nuptials that were to I take place at eight o’clock precisely. At eight, all the company were waiting, with the minis- . ter, the descent of the bridal party. But time ! passed an, and-many began to sees impatient, i Mr. Milnor the father of Anna, camo into the ’ parlor frequently, *ad then went out, evidently [ worried at the delay, the cause of which Alton shrewdly guessed to lie in the fact that the bride was not yet ready. “ I believe the girl will be too late for death,” : he heard the old gentleman say, in a fretful under tone to some one in the passage, close to the door near by which he was sitting. “ Thank Heaven for my escape,” murmured Colton to himself, as the party came in about half-past nine, after having kept the company waiting for an hour and a half. "‘Too late on her wedding night. She would have killed me!” If this shoe should happen topinch any lady, whether married or single, we beg of her riot think for a moment that it was made for her foot. Fanny Fern’s Best Thing.—We think Fan ny Fern never wrote a better pair of paragraphs than the following from the Olive Branch : “ Look on this hctsm, ano then on that. \ --‘Father is coming! 1 and little round faces grow long, and merry voices are hushed, and toys are hustled into the closet, and mamma | glances nervously at the door, and baby is bribed ; with a lump of sugar to keep the peace ; and ; father’s business face relaxes not a muscle: and’ the little group huddle like timid sheep in a corner, and tea is despatched as silently as if speaking were prohibited by the statmte book, I and the children creep like culprits to bed mar velling that Iraby dare crow ao loud, now that ‘ Father hatrome' 1 I “ ■ Father is coming f and bright eyes sparkle ' ( - ioy, and tiny feet dance with glee, and « against the window-pane, and a bevy P r ''- kisses at the door, and picture-’ of rosy bps claim.. ’ . 7 1 . , , , 1 t .i e table, and tons books be uiilebuked on , balls and dolls, and kites are 0u.... ’ al " *7 le 8 ey lays her soft cheek against, the p tt .* rna ' •z 'uakerf k'i’h the most fearless ‘ abandon/ and , Charley fl Jove-pat for his ‘medal/ and [ mamma’s lace gww» ffl/Jiant, and the evening ' < paper is read (not aileptly, feqt aloud,) and tea I t and toast, and time vanish with equal celerity a for jubilee has arrived,and 1 Father hue come.”’’ J Mormon Matrimony. \Ve believe the public are already apprized of the fact that the disciples of Mormonism have established an “organ” in Washington city. The second issue of this remarkable journal is be fore us ; and as it makes some strange revelations concerning matrimony, we propose to submit to our readers a few extracts from the “Seer.”— The Seer is under the editorial supervision, or rather the inspiration of Orson Pratt. It appears monthly, and presents a hy authority version ol Mormon doctrines. The number before us set tles the question of Mormon polygamy. The manner in which this libidinous and beastly practice is described and defended cannot fail to shock and disgust the readear: From the foregoing quotations and remarks, it will be seen that the Latter-Day Saints have stricter notionsol virtue, and consider , them selves under greater obligations to refrain, not only from unvirtuous acts, but from unvirtuous thoughts, than any other people under heaven. But <lo the Saints actually demonstrate by their pracl ices that they believe what the Lord has taught them upon these subjects ’ Do they practice virtue as well as deliver the precepts thereof! We answer, let the practices ol the thirty thousand Saints in Utah speak ; let stran gers who have travelled through our flourishing t'-riitorv declare; let the records of the courts of justice bear witness; let the injured females, if | t here l e any,whose character and reputation have been destroyed by the vile seducer publish their wrongs; let illegitimate children, if Utah affords them, come forth as a public monument of our Jis'iiac'', If a house of ill-fame can be found i throughout the length and breadth of our terri foiy, then let the Saints hide their faces in I 5i...; e. and the sons and daughters of Utah I blush before the hravens; if an adulterer or sedu- I cer ol female virtue can be found in all that land, ; then let: the elders be clad in sackcloth, and the Saints put on the garments of mourning, and weep before the Lord, day and night, until the evil be iken from their midst. But have not some of the Saints in Utah more wives than one ? Yes; and they take good care j of them, too; and teach them and their children I the greet principles of virtue and holiness by example as well as by precept. But is it not sinful tor a man to have more than one wife liv -1 ing nt the same time ? If it is, the Bible has not told us of it. But is it not contrary to the Chris tian religion ? If it is, the Christian religion has not revealed it as an evil. But do you not really think that it is contrary to the will of God lor a man. in these days, to take a plurality ot wives? Yes, unless God shall give them to him by a re velation through a holy prophet. Is it not con trary to the constitution and laws ot the United States for the citizens of Utah to practice the plurality of wives? No; neither the constitu tion nor the laws ot the United States have said anything on the subject of marriage or domestic relations. But is it not contrary to the laws of I the territory ? No; the legislature of that Ter ritory do not feel disposed to debar her citizens i of any Westings or privileges enjoyed, under the ’ sanction of the Almighty, by holy prophets and partriarchs of old. We annex a minute descitption of the court, ship and matrimonial ceremony of a gentleman when about to take upon himself the yoke of an add'tional spouse. No man in Utah, who has already a wife, and who may desire to obtain another, has any right to make any propositions of marriage to a lady until he has consulted the president over the whole church, and through him obtains a reve lation from God as to whether it would be pleas ing in His sight. If he is forbidden by revela tion, that ends the matter; if by revelation the privilege is granted, he still has no right to con sult the feelings of the young lady until he has 1 obtained the approbation of her parents, provid j ed they are living in Utah; if their consent can- I not be obtained, this also ends the matter; but 1 if the parents or guardians freely give their con sent, then he may make propositions of marriage to the young lady. If she refuse these proposi tions, this also ends the matter ; but if she ac : cept. a day is generally set apart by the parties for the marriage ceremony to be celebrated. It is necessary to state that before any man takes the least step towards getting another wife, it is j his duty to consult the feelings of the wife which I he al eady has. and obtain her consent, as re | corded in the 24th paragraph of the revelation, publish* d in the first number of‘The Seer.’ | When the day set apart for the solemnization 1 of the marriage ceremony has arrived, the bride- i groom and his wife, and also the bride, together ' \ with their relatives, and such other guests as I may be invited, assemble at the place which ■ ’ they have appointed. The scribe then proceeds i to take the names, ages, native towns, counties, 1 : States, and countries ofthe parties to be married, i s which he carefully enters on record. The pres -1 ’ ident, who is the prophet, seer, and revelator i over the whole church throughout the world, ■ : and who alone holds the keys of authority in ■ this solemn ordinance, (as recorded in the second and fifth paragraphs of the revelation on mar- ' riage.) calls upon the bridegroom and his wife, > and the bride, to arise, which they do, fronting 1 the president. The wife stands on the left hand I of her husband, while the bride stands on her left. 1 The president then puts the question to the wife : ’ ‘are you willing to give this woman to your hus -1 band to be his lawful and wedded wile for time : and for all eternity? if you are, you will mani * fest it by placing her right hand within the right hand of your husband.’ The right hands ofthe bridegroom and bride being thus joined, the wife takes her husband by the left arm, as if in the attitude of walking. The president then j proceeds to ask the following question ofthe man: • Do you, brother, (calling him by name,) take sister, (calling the bride by her name,) by the right hand to receive her unto yourself to be your lawful and wedded wife, and you to be her law ful and wedded husband for time and for all etern ity. with a covenant and promise, on your part, 1 that you will fulfil all the laws, rites and ordi ; nanc- s, pertaining to this holy matrimony,in the, a.: V and everlasting covenant, doipg this in the ; pr. f ence of God, angels, and these witnesses of your own free will and choice?’ The bride groom answers yes. The president then puts - the question to the bride: ‘Do you sister, (call ing her by name,) fake brother.) calling him by name.) by the right hand, and give yourself to him, in be his lawful and wedded wife for - time and all eternity, with a covenant and pro mise mi your part, that you fulfil all the laws, rit- .s and ordinances, pertaining to this holy mat- ' rinr.riv in the new and everalasting covenant, doing this in the presence of God, angels, and these witnesses, of your own free will and choice ?’ The bride answers, yes. The president then says : i In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the authority of the holy priesthood, I pro nounce you legally and lawfully husband and wife lor time and for all eternity ; and I seal j upon you the blessings of the holy resurrec i tion. with power to come forth in the morning i of the first resurrection, clothed with glory, im mortality, gnd eternal lives; and I seal upon I you the blessings of thrones, and dominions. 1 and principalities, and powers, and exaltations, I together with the blessings of Abraham, Jsgac, and Jacob, ant say unto you be fruitful, and ' multiply and replenish the earth, that you may j have joy and rejoicing in your posterity in the ’ day of the Lord Jesus. All these blesssings, i together with all other blessings pertaining to j the new and everlasting covenant, I seal upon i your heads, through your faithfulness unto the j end, by the authority of the holy priesthood, in ’ the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen? The scribe then enters on the general record the dgtp and place as the marriage, together with the names of two or three witnesses who were presents. “ Baby carts on narrow side-walks are awful bores, especially to a hurried business man.” oire they ? Suppose you and a certain pair of blue eyes, that you would give half your patri mony to win, were joint proprietors of that baby 1 I shouldn’t dare to stand very near you and call it “a nuisance.” It’s all ve - y well for bachelors to turn up their single blessed noses at these little dimpled Cupids, but just wait till I their time comes! See’em, the minute their name is written “papa ” pull up their dickies, and strut off down street, as if the Common ! wealth owed them a pension 1 When they en ; ter their office, see their old married partner (to whom babies have long since ceased to be a novelty.) laugh in his sleeves at the new fledged dignity, with which that baby’s advent is an nounced! How perfectly astonished they feel that they should bave been so infatuated as not to perceive that a man is a perfect cypher till he I is at the head of a family I How frequently one may see them now, looking in at the shop ; wirdows, with interest, at little hats, coral i beads and bells, and baby-jumpers. Now they I love to come home to dinner, and press that lit i tie velvet cheek to their business faces / Was I there ever any music half so sweet to their ear ■ as its fust lisped “papal” Ob, how closely ; and imperceptibly, one by one, that little plant win's its tendrils round the parent stem I How anxiously they hang over its cradle when the cliHek i'u-l: ,s and the lip is fever jmiclieil ; and liow wide, and deep, and long a shadow in their happy homo its little grave would cast ! My dear sir, depend upon it, one’s own baby is never ’’a nuisance Love heralds its birth! Fabbj Fern. Singular Xsoidf.nt. —A correspondent has sent the Christian intelligencer the following account of a singular occurrence“ Last Satur day, Rev. Mr. Stimson,of Castleton,wasinvited to preach a funeral sermon in the church ’of Seho dack, Rev. Mr. Baijey being sick and unable to officiate. While he was offering prayer pre ceding the sermon, a white dove Hew into the church, and alighted directly on his head. Mr. Stimson appeared a little startled by the arrival of the unexpected visitor, but in a moment he calmly raised his hand, and gently removed the bird. It flew upon the gallery, but after a few moments it returned and flighted on the Bible between his hands, where it remained until j ne had concluded the prayer. The dove was I hen caught by Mr. Stirnson, and given to the ■ exton.” Ria itii'T for making Muscadine W;ne.— W, promised the editor of the Southern Cultiva vatoj two or three weeks ago to procure the receipt for making Muscadine Wine,unprepared ' by a lady of this county, and some of which we had the pleasure of tasting last fall, and which has been pronounced delicious by all who have j tasted it. Circumstances, however, prevented us from it as early as we had anticipated. ' Las', week, however, she was kind enough to ’ send it to us. It is as follows: To one gallon of muscadine juice add three pounds of good sugar and a half-pint of water. L<-1 it inmaiii open until done fermenting, then t ‘<i and fork it up. It will be ready for use ’ two — Jlthrne Herald, 21«< <»»z. . m a moniu .. - .. - . ‘ 'he coneuwjrtion ft appear. -7 the f ens “» that.. -«<:hes | of spiritiious liquors in */ ,e United States,., the enormous quantity of eignij'-’ix millions i j annually, equal to six gallons spy nym adult' ' person. , j Correspondence of the Charleston Coiiijcr? Havana, April! 11. Messrs. Editors :—I forward this riyr New York, per Black Warrior, which will sail to-mor row. In my last, I informed you ofthe lives of two of the political prisoners having beer spared. I now have to let you know that ten w ?re sent to Spain yesterday, in the ship Hispano Cubana. They go well provided with funds, as quite a little fortune showered in upon them, from all parts, some parties collecting amongst their friends as much as S7OO each, and the taffiilies of two that require it, are provided for.; Even Spaniards have contributed. I The names of those transported, are as follows: Count De Pozas Dulces, a planter, a mat? of eru dition, who, in addition to his native language, speaks English. French and Italian. He is moreover, a sensible and good man. IJie next is Joaquin Fortun, who was an officer in the Spanish army ; hia father, a Spaniard, is a Briga dier General. Luis Eduardo Cristo, a landed proprietor, one of those whom it was supposed would be executed. An active and indefati gable man, ol iron nerve, who preserved the ut most serenity to the last, when he expected death. A letter written by him. in a firm hand, on the day previois to that appointed lor his execution, I subjoin. , Chapel of the Prison of Havana, ( Tuesday, April Sth. 1853. J I had just received the Holy Sacrament, when your letter, dated 30th ult., was put into my hand. As naturally it might be expected, it was a source of much consolation to me, and 1 ha<l inexplicable pleasure in becoming acquaint ed with the state of my famil’s health. But to-dav vou have another mission to fulfil : console the different members of my unfortunate family whose anguish requires vent in the bosom ofthose most dear to it. Console th»m, . my frend, they will much require it. My will, a copy of which will be remitted to you, wili inform you of my last desire. I hope it will be religiously observed, you assisting in that part which falls to your lot. I judge it necessary to recommend to you my children 1 die in the persuasion that you will continue to dispense to them that affection of which you bave given so many proofs. Although my property is not large, still fortunately, it not being in cash, will cause it in time to be more productive. i Give my kind remembrance to , and I beseech you to prepare my poor and unfortunate i mother to receive the terrible blow that awaits 1 her. Make her comprehend what my child ren have to look to her for; and that instead of a . dead son, four living beings will look up to her I for protection. To my grandrtdtheL, sa y what ■ you will. Perhaps the poor unfortunate old lady will not be able to support the loss of her I dearest grandson. ■ Adieu, friend adieu—forever, I say, f Luis Eduardo. Juan Gonzales Alvarez, his companion for s execution, was a wealthy planter, rather aged. • Joaquin Miranda, is a lawyer, and bad been mar j ried but a few months to a beautiful young wo man, when he was arrested. This gentleman is , a fine manly person, W’ith a noble countenance. , He received his education in Connecticut. The j others were Pinto, a lawyer. Gassie. a doctor of laws,Francisco Valdez,who wasatthe head ofthe I cartridge manufactory, and lastly, Jose Perdomo, a dissolute man, the natural son of Count Villa r mar, who played a double game—first, a Span , ish spy, he went to the north, then played false . to the Spaniards, and finally divulged against Cubans many things, and at the same time told . many falsehoods in the hope of benefitting > himself. A conspiracy has been found out amongst the s prisoners incarcerated for crime. At the head . of it was a Gerrnau who previous to his impris . onment was cashier in one of our principal j houses, in which employment he used the funds of his employers in his own speculation. Ade , falcation was discovered, which led to his impris j onment. The plan of the gang was to rise upon . their guards. They had procured arms, but what 3 their ultimate views were, 1 have not been able t 40 ascertain. A German attached to the Rever 5 House, kept by Mrs. Raymond, has been arrest -3 ed. It is said that he was in some maimer im ; plicated in the affair. The Memphis and Charleston Rail road. We have perused with much gratification the 1 reports of James F. Cooper, Esq., Chief Engi . neer, andof A. E. Mills, Esq., President of the r Memphis and Charleston Railroad, which re s ports we find in the Huntsville Democrat, of the i I 14th instant. s These papers are remarkably well written and highly interesting in every particular. They , will amply repay the hour’s labor which is re . quired for their examination, We commend r them to such of our readers as take an interest , in the subject of western improvements con i necting with the works of Georgia. 1 The line of the Memphis Railroad runs from . the city of Memphis eastwardly one hundred , and twenty three and a half miles to the east r line of Misssssippi, and thence one hundred and i fifty miles to Crow Creek, where it joins the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, at a point : about twenty-five miles from Chattanooga. . The distance then from Savannah to Memphis > will be about seven hundred and twenty-nine . miles ; from Charleston to the same point about t seven hundred and forty-six miles. » It appears to us that, looking at this rounda ? bout connection with the Atlantic, the citizens i of Memphis and of Savannah will not be slow, i in this age ofenterprise and progress, in finding ; a better and shorter connection. That shorter > and better connection can be found as follows: ; From Memphis to Decatur. (Ala..) the distance i by railway is 168.) miles—from Decatur a rail . road can be built, byway of the vicinity of Jack . sonville. (Ala,) Carrollton and Newan, (Ga.,) to Griffin on the Macon and Western Road, in ’ 200 miles, at the very largest estimate—from Griffin to Savannah the distance now travelled ? by railroad is 250 miles ■. themkjV the construc- ■ tion ofthe 200 miles of reaff-fMjT-G ri ffi n to De . catur the line from Memphis rorlNvannah will . be 618 miles,or 111 miles shortef than by the Chattanooga, route, and it will be 128 miles . shorter than the Memphis line to Charleston. , This link from Decatur to Griffin is, emphati . cally, one of the grandest, in its results, now under public consideration. The people of Geor gia, from the Alabama line, in Carroll county, towards Griffin, are moving earnestly in this matter, and we heartily wish them success. A road from Griffin byway of Newnan to Car rollton (part of the great line) will, itself, un doubtedly pay, and, considering the great interest of the Macon and Western Road and Central Roads, and Savannah, in such a work, we ven ture to say that the funds can be raised to build it. Whilst our neighor Charleston, with com mendable spirit, is endeavoring to build the Blue Ridge (or Rabun Gap road) to head the State Road of Georgia and this citv, let us unite and build the Decatur and Griffin Road, and present to the inhabitants ofthe great valley their short est way to sea by over one hundred miles. We ask our fellow-citizens to took fully and deeply jnto this matter.— Savannah Georgian. Southern Railroad- We yesterday had the pleasure of receiving a call from the Hon. Thomas Marshall, of Mis sissippi, President of the Southern Railroad Com pany. He visits Savannah on business of that road. * It may be well to remark, for the benefit of ! such ot our readers as have not kept pace with | the internal improvement movements of the | west, that the Southern Railroad is a road now in process of construction across the States of Mississippi and Alabama to connect Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River, with Savannah and Charleston, on the Atlantic. From Vicksburg, the friends of the enterprise believe, and we agree with them, that the road will extend westwardly through Louisiana to Shreveport— through Texas to jjl Passo, and thence, by anoth er sweep of five hundred miles, reach a Pacific terminus at San Diego, in South California. From Savannah to Vicksburg, byway of Macon, Columbus, Opeleika, Montgomery, Sel rpa, and Jackson, (Miss.) the distance is shown, by actual survey of nearly the whole route, to be 669 miles. Os this distance, 385 miles—from Savannah to Montgomery—will be passed over I by the cars early next year. Between Mont- I gomery and the Mississippi line a portion of the road is already under contract, and means are promised for the construction of the remainder, so soon as proper assurance can be given for building from the western line of Alabama to Brandon, in Mississippi. From Brandon to Vicksburg there is already a road. Its length is 60 miles. The contingency then upon which hangs the connection of Savannah with the Mississippi River, is providing the means for the construc tion of a road from Brandon to the western boundary of Alabama—a distance of 100 miles. The cost of this road is estimated by an accom plished engineer, H. Haupt, of Pennsylvania, whose report is before us, $1,600,000. The i question wl.iol, M*. ti> thl: city and the Central road—for they are equally 1 interested—is how much they will subscribe ’ towards this work '! He believes that a sub- | scription of $300,000 by the two will give us | the road to the Mississippi river. If he is cor rect in his opinion, we do not hesitate to say 1 that such subscription should be made. We un derstand the subject will probably be brought before Council to-night, on’ a resolqtipp to sub mit the question of a corporation subscription to a meeting of the citizens. Such a resolution will, wp hope, be adopted. If it is, previously to the assemblage of the meeting, we shall take occasion topresent the subject foijy to the at tention of our readers.—SanonnaA Wilkes Railroad —Our Railroad progresses finely. More than ttyy tpiles are already com pleted, and the constant employment cf seventy or eighty hands, warrants the assumption thyt in a few months the “iron horse” will belch forth his fire and smoke in our quiet village. What a State is ours. Nearly fifteen Hundred miles of railroad projected, and more than half that number in successful operation. How ma ny towns and cities have risen in a few years past. What a contribution to the general inter est, education, mechanic arts, agriculture, &c., &c., all more or less attributable to the spirit ot internal improvement. Wherever the iron track impresses itself, there is a stirring energy Dilapidated buildings and old walls are pulled down, and give place t,o comfortable dwellings, commodious workshops qr storo houses. Real estate advances, population increases, and a gen eral influx of everything and everybody changes almost entirely the aspect of former affairs.— Then the facility for travelling, theopportunitips for meeting old friends and acquaintances, the rapid transportation of mails, &c. But why at tempt to enter into details about a matter which everybody knows. Too much praise cannot be given to the projectors and encouragers of the Wilkes Bailroad. While we wish yoq and the -M>biie success, gentlemen, don’t forget us, lor •’“w strong fin that must be support we have a ... *' ,e<l. — Washington Gazeu,, [Frowi the Corner Stone, .dpril 7.) The Liquor Law. Government, in its proper office, is such ai organization of a community that the whoh power of the whole community may be brough to bear for the protection of each individual The individual whose arm is too weak to pro tect himself from injury or to redress a wroni after it has been perpetrated, may thus call ti his aid this power, and to this aid every indi vidual ofthe community is entitled. Now it i clear that when a community thus comes to gether for the formation of a government, tha the object is not to give up, but to protect thei rights. But in creating an organization powerful t< protect, you also give it power to destroy—ti guard against this it is clearly necessary tha there should be some well defined limits to th< exercise of this power. There is but one principle upon which yoi can mark out any limit—it is this: that th< government shall protect every man in the en joyment ol his rights, and leave him to tak< care of his own interest, and pursue his happi ness in such way as he may deem best. If tht government protect a man’s person and proper ty from violence and fraud, and impose upor him no penalties or disabilities for opinion’i sake, what more can b« rightfully ask ? Whal less can it rightfully do than to permit him tc pursue his interest and his happiness in such way as he shall deem best, which does not in jure another? Why should any man be pro hibited that which injures nobody ? and wher we speak of injury to others, we mean that in jury which must necessarily result from the acl itself, against the will and without the agency or consent of him who sustains the injury; ant not that injury which the rightful act of others ma y> by their own imprudence or improper con duct, be made the means of bringing upon them Men do not need the aid of the governmenl to protect them against those things which can not injure them except by their own act or by their own consent; here every individual has the power of protection in his own hands, ant government cannot undertake to protect mer against their own follies, and could not do it i it were to try. And just here we wiil notici some of the arguments of our friend, "Penn.” He has evidently failed to study the difference between those things which a man has not the moral right to do, and those things in which one man has the right to control another. Ni man has either the natural or the moral righ' to do wrong in any way—yet there are very many things which are wrong that a man may do, which no body has a right to prevent hinr from doing, simply because they injure no body else without their own agency or consent. N< man has either a moral or natural right to bi an atheist—yet all the world together has n< right to punish him for it—he may proclaim his principles as much as he pleases—he maj build a house and preach them every Sunday— he may instill his principles into your childrei and your neighbors—and yet you cannot punisl him. Suppose he makes the whole count] Atheists, is not that worse than making then drunkards? Certainly it is. Yet you will no claim the right to punish him by law, or to pro hibit him from teaching these doctrines. Why Just for the same reason that you have no righ to prohibit grog shops—because it injures nobod] without his own act or consent. He may preacl atheism his whole life, and if every body keep away from him he will hurt nobody. So gro; shops will never hurt any body that don’t go t, them, and liquor will never hurt any body tha don’t drink it. No man has the natural or th; moral right to be covetous, or to be an idolatoi or to hate his brother. However unpleasant sucl men may be, however much they may mar th; pleasures or corrupt the minds of society, yoi cannot claim the right to punish them by law for these things, for the same reason that the] invade no body’s rights, and injure no one bu by his own act and consent. Yet you will no deny that great injury rinay be done by them By his idolatry he may turn away others, b; his covetousness he may drive hard bargain with his neighbor, and may fail to extend t him the aid and the kindness which might sav him from destitution, perhaps from starvatior perhaps from crime and misery—aye, perhap even from drunkenness —by his hatred of hi brother, he may destroy the pleasures ot inter course of a whole neighborhood, and yet yo cannot by law prohibit him from doing any o these things, nor punish him if he does then: just because he invades no man’s rights, and in juresnoone without his own agency or consent A man of wealth, a good social fellow, of culti vated intellect and fascinating manners, ma; gather at his parties the young and the old, an< teach them that respectability and importanc consists in show and the appearance ot wealth that labor is degrading; that they cannot b ladies and gentlemen without soft hands and fai faces; that they must be bedizzened and bedeck ed with rings and chains and gorgeous appare in order to be respectable, and thus undermin their principles of honesty and purity, and mak them ready and willing to obtain these evidence of respectability at any and every sacrifice ; h may teach them that the principles of Christian ity which required them to love their neighbo as themselves, and to do unto others as the’ would that others should do unto them, are ridic ulous; he may corrupt them until there is n; soundness in them, and you cannot interlen with him by law, because he invades no body’ rights—because those who are injured in tha way, suffer by their own agency and their owi consent. Nay, so far from desiring to punisl him by law, you are loud in his praises—vici and corruption surrounded with the blandish ments of life and the pageantry of wealth, an not only tolerable but beautiful in your eyes— it is only when the victim loses his power o thus guilding them, and stands forth in his na ked corruption, depravity and degradation, tha you desire to apply the law--it is not the vict or the corruption that you desire to punish— that would reach to high up .into society. Ypt will not reform or punish them, but you will try to hide away the effects and the evidences ol them—as it is said in some of®the licentious cities of the old world, and even in this, it is the custom for mothers to destroy their offspring n t to prevent the crime, but to hide the dis grace. Let us examine some of “ Penn’s” cases. He says, “ you have no right to burn your brush by the side of my barn.” That may or may not be true according to cirenmstances. I havens right to goon his land or to touch his barn at all—but if his barn be upon the line which separates between us, I have the right to burn my bru’-h on my own land, even though it be by the side of or against his barn—but I have no right to burn his barn. If Ido that I wil] be responsible, but if his barn has a stone wall, I may burn my brush there a thousand years if I should live so long, and if I do not injure his barn, he will neverlind any law to prohibit me—it is not for burning the brush, but for burning the barn that I am punished—and I am punished for that because it is done with out his agency or consent. I have no right to burn his clothes or to burn his ■ hand—yet if I make a fire on my own land and he comes and throws his clothes into it, or thrusts his hand or his foot into it, he would hardly find any law to punish me for building the fire. He says “ a man has no right to dam his streams, if, by so doing, he creates a pestilence.” Very j true, but does he not see a vast difference be- I tween that and the subject under discussion? j A man makes a mill pond, by which the at- I mosphere is infected for miles around—it may | kill your wife or your child or your negro, though neither of them may ever go off your own premises or approach his mill pond—you are injured without any act op agency of your own —an act against which you cannot protect your self, and therefore you may call the power of the law’ to your aid. But he sets up a grog shop—there is no earth ly harm in that—it invades no one’s rights—it cannot by any possibility injure any body di ectly or indirectly—will you punish him for having the house ? the house can’t hurt any body—will you punish him for having liquor in it ? that don’t hurt anybody—he sells it—there is neither wrong nor injury to anyone in that— it may be bought for some useful purpose. ■ But the purchaser drinks it and gets drunk, that is his act, and the only part of the whole proceed ing that is of itself and necessarily a wrong; now will you punish the vendor for the wrong ofthe purchaser? Will you make one man re sponsible for the wrongs of another? This is neither good law nor good morals. Where two men combine to injure a third you may rightful ly make both responsible, because it is the act of both, although one may be a more prominent agent than the other. You cannot rightfully make one man legally responsible for the act of another until you give him the legal right to control the action of him for whom he is to be held responsible. “ Penn,” if he were known, would be recog nised as one ofthe most sober, upright, intelli gent men in the community. Suppose that he fn eo tn on* of the lowest, ureur ahnns in the city and buy a drink of whisky, who ought to be punished for it, “ Penn” or the shop-keep er? If nobody's rights have been invaded, no body ought to be punished. If any wrong has been done, “ Penn” was the guilty man, for the drinkingthe liquor was the only wrong act. Will you make the seller responsible for the crime of “ Penn?” But you say there are a great many men who do not understand, as well as “ Penn,” the danger to which they are subject—and do hot understand as well how to take care of themselves. This is an assumption which you have no riiibt to make—the law qan make no distinction between one man and another—and men never make, except when it suits their purpose. If they can sell him a piece of property fbr a high price, <?r buy qf him at a low price, or lend him money at high interest as lung as he has any thing, or employ him to work for them at a low price after he has nothing—they never inquire ap to his capacity to understand or take cue ol his own interest, nor do they ask any aw to protect him against them. Now, we say that every mijn is iust as much morally bound not to ruin his neighbor by ma king what he calls gi;qd bargains out of him, and by encouraging bis folly and his extravagance, as he is not to ruin him by making him drunk ; and if msn were more careful of their obligations as to the first, there vj pyli| jie much less necessity for protecting their victims from grog shops—for msny a good man has been driven to the grog shop because hs had been first reduced to pover ty by the heartless selfishness of bis shrewd and punning friends. put, say you, ho will corrupt my negroes. You are protected against that, No man has any right to sell pr give your negro liquor with out your consent; mid if he does it you can punish him for it. O, but I can’t catch him at it; neither can you catch a man when he steals your horse, or your hog, or your goods, or your money.— Will you, therefore, hang every man that you ipay happen to think is not honest? A man nay break open your house or shoot you, and never be found out. Will you therefore, hang svery man that you see with an axe or a gun ? But you say “he will corrupt my children.” No sir—he wont corrupt your children, if you n do your duty by them. You can, by the force of e your precept and example, teach vour son not to ,t degrade himself by going into the field and ta- I. king hold of the hoe and the plow, or by driving i. an ox cart ora dray through the streets—or by g Romg into the carpenter’s shop and taking hold of o the jack plane, or by doing any thing else which i- will give useful, honorable and profitable em is m ind and body. You can teach i. them that they are ruined if they cannot dress it as fine, sport as much jewelry, talk as large, and ir cut as many swells as any other fool in the country, and yet you complain that they are o ruined by the grog shops 11 Why, how can you o expect any thing else of them? You have ,t taught them neither good principles nor good e practices. You have already corrupted them to the core and they have nothing to do but to go out u into the world and develope it. This spirit of mo e ney getting, and being thought rich, which per- - vades the most active of all classes of society,from e the lowest grog shop keeper to the highest digni . tary ofthe church,and to which every principle of e honesty and morality is sacrificed, is the great - curse of the land, and that which is making such ii destruction in its morals. s But to return. Government can protect men, t in their rights, it cannot guard them against o their own wrong’. 1 Proceeding upon this principle, the duty of . the Legislature is plain, and government is sim- - pie—it is only when we begin to make distinc ii tions between one citizen and another, that his - duty becomes difficult and the machinery qf t government complex. We talk a great deal ot y the rights conferred by legislation—such legis j lation always carries with it a wrong—men de s rive their rights from higher authority. Human power may debar us the enjoyment of our rights, but it can neither give nor take t them away ; it is an impeachment ofthe wis- - dom of our Creator to say He gave us more y rights than are necessary to our well being—it s is an impeachment of His goodness to say that j He gave us less. i To illustrate our idea—it is yet admitted by f all in this country, that all have the right to e worship God according to the dictates of their ’ own consciences. This right is not derived from e human laws or human constitutions, nor can it e be destroyed by them. It exists in as much ri force in Ireland as in Georgia—it existed in as □ much perfection in the days of the persecution t as now. The burning of a man at the stake did y not destroy the right or impair its force. y It is easy for a legislator to know what are u the rights of iis constituents, and when he le y gislates for their protection, he has well defined o principles to guide him. When he departs from e them, by what shall he be governed ? We are o told a great deal about public good, but what is n it? The greatest public good at which we can y conceive, is, that rights shall be well defined. - fully understood and perfectly protected. Apari n from this, what is public good? •Is it what the h majority of to-day may think their interest? oi y what the majority of to-morrow may think n theirs ? >t When a law is enacted to prevent one man i- from beating another or from stealing his prop ? erty, we find no difficulty in feeling that it is for it the public good. Here no right is invaded, no y liberty abridged ; but when a law is made to pre h vent a man from selling his property, upon what is principle do you base it? Will not the same g principle justify in seizing and appropriating it o to your own use ? it If the public good principle be adopted, may e you not as well prohibit the sale of one species r, of property as another’ All that is necessary to h justify it is, that its advocates think, or profess e to think it is for the public good. u Upon what principle, then, can this law be justified? Is it for the promotion of public mo y rality? Then let us legislate upon everything jt which injures public morals and affects public >t good. Does anybody doubt that public morals 1. would be greatly advanced if everybody attend y ed church on Sunday ? Let us have a law re is quiringit? It is surely as proper that men :o shall be compelled by law to do what is only e morally right as that they jhall be prohibited o from doing what is only morally wrong—as )S proper to compel them to say their prayers Is to is prohibit them from swearing. Nay, it is a r . wiser and better policy—it accomplishes the , u whole object at once. Compel men to be good, and they are sure not to be bad. d The doctrine of public good, applied to mat i_ ters merely civil, is the spirit of despotism—ap t. plied to matters of morality and 1-eligion, it is i_ the spirit of persecution. It is the same spirit of y public good, which in other days, and other coun j tries, has bound up in the hands of their rulers . e the individual action and individual energy of ~ the people, who, thus bound and caged up, have ,e sunk into sloth and inactivity, and ultimately j r ' into degradation and slavery, for it is easy for a people to see that when their rulers claim the j, I right of prescribing the manner in which they e | shall exercise their industry and dispose of its e , proceeds, it is but one step further to ascertain ;s j that public good requires that they shall take , e I them for their own use. Under this feeling of j insecurity they will cease to labor, and when a , r j people become idle they become dissolute. y It is the same spirit of public good which cast .. Daniel into the lion’s den, and the Hebrew chifd -0 dren into the fiery furnace. The same which ■ e animated Paul as he went to Damascus; the ’ s same that afterwards scourged and imprisoned him, and afterwards brought him to the block.— n It is the same spirit of public good, which, to h preserve the purity of religion, lighted the fires e of the persecution, and which changed its views . and its objects but not its effects, as this or that e sect came into power. From such a spirit may _ God in his mercy deliver this country. >f The Presidency and Vice Presidency. ,t The recent death of Mr. King has given rise e to some speculation in reference to the effect of _ the death of both the President and Vice Presi a dent. The Constitution provides that on the y death of the President, the Vice Pissident shall f fill his place. The case of Mr. Tyler who suc s \ ceeded to the Presidency on the death of Gen. e j Harrison, and the case of Mr. Fillmore whosuc ceeded Gen. Taylor, are instances in point. The j Constitution provides also, that on the death of ' both, Congress shall declare then “ what officer e I shall act as President.” Acting under this power, r I Congress did, in 1792, enact that in the event t of the demise of both the President and Vice y President, a new election for these officers should t be held in the following December, and that the i President and Vice President then elected should i hold their offices for four years from the 4th of » March next ensuing. It further provided that in > the interim between the death of one President ] and the election of another, the President ofthe Senate pro tempo's shall serve as President; and , in the case of a vacancy in that office, the func- > tions of the Chief Magistrate shall devolve upon t the Speaker ofthe House. r In regard to the Vice-Presidency, the Consti tution simply says that “ the Senate shall choose . their own officers, and also a President pro tem , pore, in the absence of the Vice-President or when he shall exercise the office of President of ; the United States.” From this we would in ; fer, that the country is now without any Vice | President, and consequently, though his func tions as presiding officer of the Senate may be discharged by another person, there is no officer under the Government entitled to succeed to the pay and title of Vice-President. Nor wiil ’ there be, except in the case of the death of President Pierce, in which event a new election would become necessary both for President and Vice-President. The Constitution tells us how the vacant office of President shall be filled, but contains no provision of the kind in regard to the Vice-Presidency, except when both offices shall be vacated, when, as just remarked, a new election must be had. We subjoin the 9th and 10th sections ofthe Act of Congress alluded to above, which we find quoted in the Charleston Courier of yesterday: Seo. 9. And be it further enacted, That in case of removal, death, resignation or inability, both of the President and Vice-President of the United States, the President of the Senate pro tempore, and in case there shall be no President ot the Senate, then the Speaker of the House of Representatives for the time being, shall act as President of the United States until the disabil ity be removed or a President shall be elected. “Sec. 10. And belt further enacted, That whenever the officers of President and Vice- Piestdent shall both become vacant, the Secre tary es State shall forthwith cause a notification thereof to be made to the Executive of every State; and shall also cause the same to be pub lished in at least one of the newspapers printed in each State, specifying that Electors of the President of the United States shall be appoint ed or chosen in the several States within thirty four days preceding the first Wednesday in De cember, then next ensuing: Provided, There shall be the space of two months between the date of such notification and the said Ist Wed nesday in December ; but if there shall not be the space of two months between the date of such notification and the Ist Wednesday in qn<l i f 4-I’o fowrvq PrenJ. dent and Vice-President last in office were elect ed, shall not expire on the 3d of March next en suing, then the Secretary of State shall specify in the notification that the Electors shall be ap pointed or chosen within thirty-four days prece ding the first Wednesday in December in the year next ensuing. Within which time the electors shall be appointed or chosen, an i the electors shall meet and give their votes on the said first Wednesday in December, and the pro ceedings and duties of the said electors and oth ers, shall be pursuant to the directions prescrib ed in this aid,” Loss of Capt. Hofeldt and one of the Sailors of the Schooner Leopold O’Donnell. The schooner Leopold O’Donnell, (of this port) Capt. Hofeldt, cleared at Baltimore on Wednesday, the Iflth inst., for Wilmington, N. C. From a letter received in this city yester day, by H. J. Dickerson, Esq., owner of the sphooner, wp learn that the Leopold O’Donnell retqrned to Baltimore on the 15th with her flag at hqlf-mast, having lost her Captain and one of her crew on the evening of the 14th inst. in a squall off Polar Island. It appears that Capt. Hofeldt and the sailor went into the boat at the stern, to hoist up her to the davits, when one of the davits gave way, precipitating the boat into the sea. when she parted from the schooner and capsized. Capt. Hofeldt hung on to the boat for a few minutes, but no assistance could be rendered by those on board the schooner, as the boat was parted from the vessel and blowing , very hard at the time. The Captain’s wile was on board and witnessed her husband’s hopeless struggle for life. The name of the sailor lost I was John Finn; he was a native ol the county , of Waterfold, Ireland. Capt. Hofeldt, was well and favorable known ' in this city, and his fate will lie regretted by his 1 numerous friends and acquaintances. He was 1 about 35 years of age, and a native of Lippican, ( Massachusetts.— Savannah News, 21« f inst. j Gov. Farwell, of Wisconsin, declines a re- ' election. 1 1 i f t H By ' iiUihMzsJF 1 US?' > AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. j , TUESDAY MORNING, APRIL 26. I.■ . . = y Terms of Subscription. t Daily Paper, per annum, in advance... .$8 00 Tri-Weokly 5 00 Weekly, per annum in advance 2 00 If paid within the year 2 50 f At the end of the year 300 t dy— The above terms will be rigidly enforced. I -■====: -■■-a.-.-I. . IT?- Subscribers writing to request their pa < pers changed to another Post-office, will please be particular to state the office to which'the f paper is now sent. Bank of St. Mary's. 3 The bills of the Bank of St. Mary’s under five f dollars, and the change bills of J. G. Winter, are '* still taken at par at this office. KZ" Postmasters are requested to notify us j. promptly in all cases when our papers are not e taken from the office. g Political Meeting in Columbia, t All those who are favorable to the Adrninis t tration of Gen. Pierce, without regard to old issues, are requested to meet in Appling on sale j day, (Ist Tuesday in June,) for the purpose of r appointing delegates to the Gubernatorial Con r vention. Come one, come all! Come Whig t and Democrat 1 i —————- The Death of Wm. R. King. j We copy from the Mobile Tribune, the follow ing just tribute to the memory of the late Vice- > President, Wm. R. Kino, with a sketch of his ■ life and public services: , Our telegraph despatch announced that Wm. Rufus King, Vice-President ofthe United States, s died at his residence in the interior of this State, " on MnnHay «,rs»r»ing; aijc o’clock. He was tp " be buried yesterday at 11 o’clock, atT’Tne - Hill. 7 Mr. King was a man of a peculiar character. e ! The principal of his traits were not such as to ' : impress very deeply the thoughtless part of the £ j world. Chiefly he had a well-balanced mind —had no inordinate ambitions which were not ; controllable—never attempted to perform what 1 ; he was not certain he could perform well. His r was a character of self-control, of watchfulness, ) 1 of elevation, and so much self-respect as to make his opportunities for distinction among the great l" men with whom be associated less available } than they might have been to men much his 'j. inferior. With less cautiousness Mr. King would have obtained a solid intellectual eminence which " would have made him conspicuous for o traits besides those which drew to him the re spect of the public. He was a man of a gentle nature—courteous in a most marked degree— never supercilious from his position—and al ways self-controlled. " With these qualities, he had great personal ’ courage and showed a most sensitive observance s ofthe duties which he owed to his fellow men. Os no politician living so long amidst the great men of the world, taking a prominent part in j the great events of the age, is it possible to find a man who less resorted to undue means to stimu- I late popularadmiration. He stood far above all s petty tricks and had in his nature not the slight -3 est trace of demagoguism. a No man, it may also be said, has died with e in the memory of the present generation who I had fewer enemies. He disliked violence and ’ excitements—loved to be in harmony, with the world—would sacrifice a good deal for the pur pose of securing harmony but never, that we s know of, a principle. That he differed some f times in opinion with his friends, is true, but it was a difference which men must accord to s others as a right not censurable. f Mr. King never excited very warm attach „ ments. He was too prudent a man to produce ", this effect; but he provoked a degree of re j spect which is universal—as strong almost within the New England States as it is here ' in Alabama. Inasmuch as no man can point 5 to a sacrifice of independence as a reason for , this, it must be acknowledged as one of the „ best evidences of his personal virtues and purity j- of character. j Mr. King was born in North Carolina on the 7th of August, 1786, and at his death was about (. sixty-six years of age. ’He received his educa-, tion at the University of the State of his birth j and studied law with William Duffey, a distin- 8 guishe ! lawyer, residing in Fayettfeville. He j first entered public life in 1806 as a member of the North Carolina Legislature to represent the } county of Sampson. In 1810, when barely of 3 the constitutional age,he was elected to Congress s from the Wilmington district. During the (. stormy time that succeeded, he became a bold , and uncompromising advocate of the rights of the country, and ably supported Mr. Madison through the war of 1812, although De Witt Clinton was his first choice for the presidency ; against Mr. Madison j- In 1816 he resigned his seat in the House of Representatives and went abroad as Secretary ’ of legation at Naples and St. Petersburg, on the I invitation of Mr. Pinckney, who was minister to both those places. In 1818 he returned from abroad and moved j to Dallas, in this State. He was soon after ’ elected a member of the Convention to form i the State Constitution, and took a prominent r and influential partin the proceedings of that body. In 1819. while on a visit to North Car -1 olina, he was elected, without his knowledge, ' to the United States Senate by our State Le- I gislature—and held that station uninterrupted , ly till 1843, when he accepted the post of Min- I ister to France. The object of that mission • having been accomplished, he resigned it in 1845. In 1847 he was a candidate for Sena tor before the Legislature of this State, but was beaten by the distinguished Dixon H. Lewis. In 1818, the democrats sought to make him Governor, but he declined the honor. In the same year he was appointed by the Govern or of the State to fill the vacancy in the Senate occasioned by the appointment of Mr. Bagby an Minister to Russia, and upon the expiration of his term of appointment, he was elected by the Legislature for a full term of six years. In 1850 he was unanimously chosen to preside over the Senate, in place of Mr. Fillmore, who became 1 President by the death of General Taylor, a i station which he held to the day of his death, ; and to which he was elected by a larger popu- , lar majority than was ever given to any candi date for that office. 1 We have stated above that he had a particular t object in accepting the post of Minister to ] France. This object, we believe, was to pre- , vent the joint protest ot England and France against the annexation of Texas. His arguments to the King, Louis Philippe, were of such potency that that monarch refused to join Great Britain, and thus left that power isolated. Ofthe recent events in Mr. King’s life— his illness—his journey to Cuba in search of health, his return and his decease nothing need be said. He is dead, and has left the re cord of a well-spent life to his countrymen, and particularly to us of Alabama, whose destiny he watched and moulded from the be ginning. May his honest life—his untainted re putation—be a lesson to those who think that the temptations of a political career are hardly compatible with purify of character. The Liquor Traffic. It has been our desire to avoid filling our col umns with discussions of the Temperance move ment, and dissertations on the Liquor Traffic What we have said editorially, was to define our own position, rather than with a view to prose lytism to our opinions. But as occasionally articles are pressed on us for publication by those we take pleasure in obliging, we are tempted somewhat from our position of quasi-neutrality. To-day we yield a place to an old correspon dent, and subscriber, who advocates the Atlanta Convention movement. Byway of set off, we publish an editorial from the Columbus Corner Stone, in answer to a correspondent “ Penn,’ wnicu gives cue pit-li ai'iu jjjarFow- o'~ the question, and presents arguments against the prohibitory policy which are not easily an swered. Southern Railroad—Railroad Connection between Savannah and Vicksburg. The City Council of Savannah have author ized the Mayor, to call a meeting of citizens and submit to them the proposition, that the city subscribe $300,000 to the Southern Rail road. This road, when completed, will place Savannah in connection by Railroad with Vicks burg. The distance between those two cities is 670 miles ; of this distance 410 miles are already built; of the remainder, 60 miles are under contract, leaving but 200 miles yet to be con structed. If this link is completed, the prospect is a fair one, that this Southern Road will form a portion of a great line, that will ultimately be extended from Vicksburg through Texas to San Diego or San Francisco, on the Pacific. A company is already organized, and about to com mence operations, for the construction of a road from the west side of the Mississippi, opposite Vicksburg, to the Texas line. George Turner has been appointed collector at Newport. Gideon Bradford, collector of Pro vidence, and Geo. H. Runnels, collector at Bris tol. Milton Hall is naval officer at Newport, and Silat A. Comstock at Providence. Wel come B. Sayles is postmaster at Providence Geo. H. Brown district attorney, and Francis E. Gardiner, marshal. Samuel Warren is surveyor at Warren, and James Fisher surveyor at Paw tnxet; Joseph F. Sison, postmaster at Pawtuck et, and Jno. Jonsa, commissioner of new custom bouse at Providence. New Mexico—The Mecllla The New Orleans Picayune, ofthe 21st, pub lishes a letter from San Antonio, Texas dated April Bth, 1853, stating that Gov. Wm C Lane, of New Mexico, had f ssued a ' pro ' lama .' tion claiming the Mecilla Valley as belonging to the United Sta'es. It had been left in the State of Chihuahua, by a palpable error, as he alleged, of Mr. Bartli: rr, the Boundary Commissioner’ The letter incloses the following, dated Paso del Norte, March 25 1851 * * * The mai! will take you news of the proceedings ot Gov. Lane with regard to the Me cilla Valley. lam sorry I have not a cor yof his proclamation to enclose. The most inten-e excitement prevails here in El P aso . gonora Jacquez and Zaloaga. from Chihuahua who are here to settle the affair of this canton,’have ta ken the matter in hand and replied to Gov Lane who is now at Dona Ana, refusing in the most emphatic manner to give up the territory j n dis pute, and to that end have garrisoned the Me cilla with 100 regular troops and the national guard of the town to the number 125 The guard of El Paso have orders to keep themselves in readi.ies to assemble at a moment’s notice with provisions for fourteen days. I am informed that all the Americans have been ordered to leave the Mecilla, but I think this is a mistake, and that a guard is kept at the crossing to that town, every night, to guard against surprise, I suppose. When Gov. Lane issued his proclamation, he sent a copy to the au thorities of El Paso. It was his intention to have visited the town the next day, but during the night the Prefector informed the American Consul that if the Governor came over he would be arrested. The Consul advised the Governor ofthe fact, and the latter did not cross the river. You are well aware ot the ill feeling that has existed between the Mexicans and Americans since the war. This affair has aggravated it, and to be called “ gringo” on the street is a com mon thing. The prefector, however, told me to / inform the Americans here that their persons and property were perfectly secure, and that he would punish to the extent of the law any at tempt to injure either. An express has been sent to Chihuahua for men and arms, and the Mexicans look confi dently fer both in ten days. How Gov. Trias will look at the matter is not hard to guess ; an* I suppose he will, as they say in their answer to the proclamation, “ preserve the national honor against all aggressions.” .Divided as Mexico W at present, each faction working against t" e other, she would be able to make very sistance to Gov. Lane, if he should volunteers of New Mexico; and to the PC. Elates the country would fall an should dur Governtrienff pedient to take it. It is generally that Gov. Lane will be sustained by this Govern ment, and ii so it will be a long stride towards bringing on a war, which would result in the subjection of Mexico. Gov. Lane called upon Col. Miles to sustain him with the military of Fort Fillmore, which the Colonel declined to do, alleging, as I am in formed, that he had instructions from Col. Sum ner to refuse the application, should it be made, and also that he doubted Gov. Lane’s right to take the territory in dispute. The Commissioner, Mr. Bartlett, when he placed the initial point above the Mecilla. gave great dissatisfaction, and the recent refusal ot Congress to appropriate money, unless the line was run according to the treaty, gives the Governor a show of right to demand the territory. Every American here is satisfied that the line, as run by Mr. Bartlett, is not correct, and that Gen. Conde outgeneraled him With the document before them, it is im possible that Congress will ag,ee to the boun dary line, as it is now placed, and we are look ing for another Commissioner out before long. From the Rio Grande. The following items are from the N. O. Delta’s Brownsville correspondence, under date of the 15th : The United States Deputy Marshal arrived night before last, and the witnesses against Gen. Carvajal and suite will be down on the Coman che, this evening or to-morrow. The arrested parties continue under arrest in the military quarters at this place. The accused’s attorney, as well as the United States Commissioner, (as he calls himself.) ad- . dressed Col. Webster a note, telling this gen tleman to hold the prisoners subject to the Com missioner’s orders, and not to the Marshal’s; to. which notice or request the child of Mars de clined to accede, as I have understood. From “the signs ofthe times,” the accused will, in al! probability, be taken to Galveston, and there handed over to the United States Marshal. Santa Anna has addressed a letter to his Tam pico friends, recommending union, and advises them not to distract themselves for the presentas to the form of Government that should be adopt ed, but to “ watch well and persecute the trai tor Carvajal.” The Legislature of Tamaulipas, following in the wake of the State of Zacatecas, has solemnly declared, in the name of the State, that they will never consent for the federal form of Gov ernment to be substituted by any other. Should Santa Anna, or any one else in the country, at tempt to destroy it, as he attempted to do in 1835, the States of Tamaulipas,Nuevo, Leon, and Coahuila are forever lost to Central Mexico. Mark what I now write about it; and, if it were necessary, I could assign satisfactory rea sons for making the assertion. The United States Marshal who arrested Carvajal and companions, was yesterday held to bail by one of our Justices, in the sum of S3OOO, for illegally detaining them under arrest. The examination will take place on the 20th. Trade is improving, and I notice in our streets a good many merchants and others, from the cities of Monterey, Saltillo and other places in Mexico. Thio frontier would soon present a “ prosperous state of affairs if quiet can be pre- • served on both sides of the line. Plank Road to the Sand Hills. The Summerville Plank Road Company have contracted with Finn & Osmond, to complete the Plank Road by the Ist of July. It is to run from the Canal Basin, to the lower corner of the U. S. Arsenal lot. It will be two and a half miles long, and will be in almost a straight line. The Road will be graded for two tracks, but for the present, but one track is to be laid down. This road will be profitable stock, and will be a great luxury and convenience to our citizens. We hope it will be ultimately extended to Fury’s Ferry, where the Martintown branch of the Edgefield plank road will, in that event, be carried to meet it. Another Railroad Project. We see by the Athens Herald, of the 21st inst. that the attention of the citizens of that place is called to the building of a Railroad to Madison, to connect with the Eatonton and Milledgeville Railroad. Should this road ever be built, it will place the citizens of Athens much nearer than " they are at present with the city of Savannah but we doubt if the road will be of as much benefit as is anticipated. Memphis Convention. The City Council of Savannah have passed a resolution authorizing the Mayor to appoint three citizens to represent the city at the Com mercial Convention at Memphis, and appropri ating three hundred dollars to defray their ex penses. Vice President of the United States. The office of Vice President has been previously vacant on the following occasions, viz :—Twice by the death of the Vice Presidents, viz:— George Clinton, April 1812; his term expiring March 3, 1813. Elbridge Gerry, November 1814; his term expiring March 3, 1817. Once by the resignation of John C. Calhoun, Decem ber 28, 1832 ; his term expiring March 3, 1833. Twice by the death of Presidents Harrison and Taylor, and the consequent accession of Vice Presidents Tyler and Fillmore to the Presidency —the former in April, 1841; the latter in July 1850—leaving the Vice Presidency vacant so the remainder of their respective terms, and the President of the Senate with the right of succes sion to the Presidency. The powers gnd duties of the Vice President and the President of the Senate pro tern., are precisely the same, except that the latter votes as a Senator, and has the castins. vote. Mr—Atchison, the present Presi dent of the Senate, pro tern., has only two years to serve as U. S. Senator. The State ot Lousiana, has now, for the first time in her history, an asylum for the Deaf Dumb, and Blind, in operation. The Institu tion was opened on the first of December last, and the inmates now number thirteen. By the first annual report recently published, it appears that the number of Deaf, Dumb, and Blind in the State entitled to instruction, is estimated at about 200. A new and commodious building ia about to be erected for the institution. Marshal de St. Arnaud, tha French Minister of War, is, according to the Paris correspondent of the N. Y. Sunday Tinies, so ill that he has been compelled to goto Hyeres for some months. He it was who accomplished the coup Irgat of December 1851. He declined to act without written orders from Louis Napoleon giving him full power and telling him what to do under such or such contingencies. When all was done, Louis Napoleon wanted to get back the signed document. St. Arnaud, holding it for the future as a justification, said he had sent it to England, with other papers for safety. At last Napoleon discovered that St. Arnaud had lost by Bourse speculations, 40,000 francs more than he possessed. “ Give me back the paper,” said Napoleon,' and there is the money.” The document was found in five minutes, and St. Arnaud got the cash. The Countess de Charbord, wife of the would be Henry V., contributed to the lottery for th* poor at Lyons, a piece of work embroided try herself. Ihe ticket w hich won it belonged to— the Empress Eugenie I This, if true, is singular.
