The Georgia temperance crusader. (Penfield, Ga.) 1858-18??, February 11, 1858, Image 3
LITERARY temperance (Crusader. * y PEITPIBLD, GEORGIA. £. LINCOLN TEAZET Editor. THiTrSDAY MORN ING, FEBRUART IT, 1858. Mant thanks to our friend, W.G. J. for hi* kind letter of congratulation. Words of encouragement are of priceless value when an enterprise which demands the strong faith and courage of the heart is to be underta ken. Their influence, though gentle and often unperceived, can remove mountain heaps which obstruct of the young adventurer. *Wa commend to our readers, the article on “ Zeal” contained in to-day's paper. It is from the pen of a very graceful writer, who we regret insists upon remaining incognito, or we should be proud to have his name grace our pages. Oo* February presents all the fickleness that it has been customary to assign to April. Some days last week tLe morning opened beautiful, warm and pleasant, and before night it had cloud ed up, turned cold and was raining or sleeting. It defies even the best weather-prophets, and not the least light is thrown on the“changes of to morrow by the almanac, though the predictions always be taken by contraries. —) THouGH’the price of our paper has been dou- we are still publishing the cheapest weekly in the State or in the South. We now give our readers fifteen or sixteen columns of reading mat ter—a large portion of which is original. Say, you who pay two and three dollars a year for a sheet full oY advertisements, with perhaps a column or two of reading, is not our paper at two dollars “as eheap as dirt ?” Semiramis v was a great t Wrrrior, Elizabeth a great Statesman,|Maria Theresa a great Diplom atist, Catharine a great Sovereign, [Mademoiselle Rachel a great Actress, but none of them were great women. When woman*attains*to positions <VC’ worldly “greatness, she loses those peculiarly noble qualities which make her beloved, and render[herjgreat in and of herself. Our “Bishop” would do best to submit his controversy to the decision'of the church in conference. Asa member of the con gregation, we confess that there is nothing which gives us more pleasure than our choir singing. If, however, a majority of the church prefer to have it discarded, we will quietly submit; but we have some old-fashioned, republican scruples against making all our notions of pleasure or propriety subservient to the capricious whims of one man, be lie‘ r ßishop or layman. Blackwood's Edinburg Magazine for February is received. We append a list of contents: Hunger and thirst; What will it? The Bells of Botreaux; Debit and Credit; The Scottish Universities; The [Hoorbah Mutiny; The Punjab; Beranger; Euro pean Fusilliers in the Delhi Campaign. The present is a favorable time to subscribe for this or their other re-prints of the British Period icals. Terms, $3. For Blackwood and the four Reviews, $lO. The vices and follies of fast men have been held up to public condemnation until it has be come a worn-out theme; but we seem almost forgetful that there are a large class of women equally deserving the appelative “fast.” Some have become so accustomed to associate the idea of purity and delicacy with woman that it seems almost like sacrilege to affix any other adjective to her name. This, however, is erroneous. At the fireside, distilling her influence like honeyed dew-drops upon all around her, woman possesses a loveliness beyond all compare. There is her sphere of action in which she may do far more foK the world's advancement than the pale stu dent at his midnight lamp, or the mail-clad war rior on the tented field. Her’s is a noble office, which none can too highly agpreciate or too greatly magnify. There are, however, women who are too ambi tious to be content in positions so humble, and affect to despise labors which they have not the good sense to understand. The quiet care of their households is something too lowly to em ploy their time and attention. To be impercep tibly a source of happiness to all who come with in the circle of their influence, is not in all their thoughts. They advance bold ideas about wo man’s higher destiny, though in their view that destiny is nothing more than to excite admira tion or win applause. For this, their children are neglected, their husbands uncared for, save when funds are wanted to enrobe them in all the glitter and gaudiness of fashion. While their husbands are toiling with’ all the energy despair can give to rise superior to necessity's frown,fthey are sweeping the sidewalks with costly silks and sporting delicately-laced hankerchiefs. While those whom they have sworn at tlie’alter to hon or and obey are groaning over bank-notes and agonized by approaching bankruptcy, they are enjoying themselves at watering places and win ning golden opinions from admiring crowds. They are willing for the cheerful firelight to die out upon their hearthstones and discontent to hold sway in their households, if they can be flat tered by, and dance with every soft-pated young man who can dangle a fob chain and sport an imperial. These are what we call “fast” women, afthe worst, but not the most uncommon stamp. fear of the notoriety and disgrace which will result from their conduct has no power to check them in their rapid career. Nothing but poverty wilj; and even that will not in many cases, if they have an easy access to the purses of others. “ Fun. —Fun should be cultivated as a fine art, for it is altogether a fine thing. Who ever knew a funny man to be a bad one? On the contrary, Is not he, nine times in ten, generous, humane and good ? To be sure he is. Fun—it is a great thing. It smooths the rough places of life, makes the disposition as sweet and rosy as a fresh maid on’s kiss, scatters sunshine and flowers wherever we go, gives the world around, jolly countenance, makes all the girls as pretty as June roses and mankind one of the best families out. We go in for fun. The man who won't cultivate it must keep a good sized rod between us.” Yet, we have known ]>ersons to do some very mean tricks, when their only plea for so doing was, that they did them only for fun. Such things never proceed from a funny disposition. Meanness and a love of fun, if not entirely in compatible, seldom go together. We never could imagine what pleasure there could be in the per formance of mischief, with no other motive than to “have fun.” “ The captain of a Mississippi steamer has started a morning paper on board his boat, called the Bulletin. He issues it regularly, serves it to cus tomers at slopping places and fills it with news and pleasant gossip. It is proposed especially to make the paper the organ of the river boatmen. A newspaper with a floating place of publication is certainly a novelty.” Tins looks like approaching somewhat to the state of things in the year three thousand, when every man may have a newspaper rolled right the • press into his room at his pleasure. world is progressing. “ O wad some power the giftie gie us To see ourselves as ithers see us,” Is a quotation as frequently used, perhaps, as any othorin our language. We opine, however, that very few who ever examined it closely would en dorse the sentiment. That wisdom in Providence which has made it impossible for us to know the real thoughts and opinions of others, is not less promotive of our happiness than that which hides from us the secrets of futurity. The pleasure which our vanity yields may be founded oh the most empty delusions; yet, it is far greater than the truth could impart. There is no man who form* an estimate of him self that agrees in every particular with public opinion. Some few are over-rated, but far the larger portion suffer detraction. The best prin ciples of their nature are misunderstood and mis interpreted, and their best motives impugned. Even when public esteem is gained, it is attended by so many reserving clauses that its force is greatly impaired. Here and there an upheaving wave of popularity lifts one far above the common mass: but many a foul stain is cast upon the pu rity of his character by envious calumniators, and he would not feel happy could he read the thoughts of the servile crowd who flock to do him homage. It is well for human happiness that while we desire above all things to secure the good will of others, we are, in most cases, careful to conceal our opinion of them. Some persons boast of their candor, Baying that they speak what they think, to and about anybody. They do no such thing. If their opinion be favorable, they are nothing loth for its concealment, but they are very guard ed in making known any unfavorable impression, and then, in a fit of anger, they may “speak their minds” to someone who has incurred their displeasure; but as a general thing, men are to tally ignorant of the estimation in which they are held by their fellow-men. It would indeed play wild work with what lit tle of happiness there is on earth, were this other wise. Many a man who eryoys all the bliss of contentment would then be hopelessly miserable. They would have to steel themselves against the public opinion—the favor of which they now so affectionately court. Many of the trait 6 which they now vain-gloriously exhibit would become sources of humiliating’mortifieations. They would learn that when the “ observed of all observers” —it is oftener in ridicule than in admiration that this universal gaze is bent—that the fantastic tricks which they play to attract attention more frequently provoke laughter than excite admi ration. Such knowledge would teach the young lady that while she was flattered for her charm ing intelligence, she was secretly despised for her oredulity; and the young man, that his affecta tion of politeness was only reckoned obsequious toadyism. It would let* the statesman know that the loud shouts'of applause which greet his ear are nothing but empty breath, “ full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Ah! it would lay open to the gaze such depths of hypocrisy, de ceit and insincerity in human nature that this itself would produce an incalculable amount of misery. We cannot see ourselves as others see us; let us thank God that it is so. A correspondent of the Spirit of the Age makes the following appropriate remarks respecting female writers of doggerel verse: “On the fourth page, in the left hand corner, on the top of almost every public journal of the day, we see printed in neat German type—“ Poet’s Comer.” Strange misnomer to confer such honor on the weak ana puerile productions of disordered brains. Almost every academy-bred Miss, now a-days, after reading Tom Moore and a few of the productions that appear in the aforesaid “ Comer” conceives at once that she has within her the ?[erms of poetic fancy, and, like hens must bring orth in lays; and after having brought forth, in stead of keeping it a secret, as she ought, in true gallianic style, inußt let the world know it by an awful cackle—having it published. Many, not content with boring the public ear in Anglo on, “ Excite disgust by raising a stench From bad grammar and putrid French.” A little advise, Ladies: If you will write, do so; but if you wish your friends to see your effusions, let them see them privately and in manuscript. Don’t you think they will prize them more from your own fair hands? If you will publish, doit in a small pamphlet, for exceedingly private circidation. If you have within you an original idea or any great truth hitherto unknown, and think the world will be benefitted by the knowledge of it, elothe it in the robes of true poesy, if you can; for poetry, like girls, looks better in neat not gorgeous attire than just so. If you can’t write good poetry, give your ideas in good, grammat ical, English prose, and the world will laud you more for that than for your milk-and-water verse. Ladies were born to be[blessed and not cursed. I opine, too, that the corps Editorial are troubled with more devils than the printers.” Sidney Smith said that every person thinks he can write an article for a review. He would have come much nearer the truth had he said that every one thinks himself capable of writing poe try. We have known persons who were unable, and who never attempted, to write consecutively half a dozen prose sentences correctly, spoil whole quires of foolscap with what they dignified with the name of poetry. Their idea of that species of literary composition is limited to a jingle at the end of the line—not caring whether that line contains four feet or a dozen, or whether it be composed of dactyls or spondees. Such pro ductions have brought newspaper poetry into so low repute, that we never look for anything but the most [miserable stuff in these “ Poet’s Cor ners.” True poetry is, of all forms of literary compo sition, the most difficult of execution. It requires the most masterly command of language, and a quick perception of the nicest distinctions. A keen relish and just appreciation of all that is sublime or beautiful in nature or art, is indispen sible in its higher efforts. In such a work, none but those who are peculiarly gifted and breathed upon by a higher inspiration can hope to excel. It is a boon denied to the common race of mor tals to be able to pour out the thoughts and emo tions of the heart in the soul-enrapturing meas ures of song. No one has ever yet been able to tell in set terms what poetry is. We all know it to be something more than smoothness of verse and the regular recurrence of musical sounds. These are indispensible to its perfection, but do not constitute its essence. There is about it a spiritual unction which all must feel, but none can name or define. Without this poetry would be like flowers without their aroma -a mere mass of colors, without sweetness or beauty. The number of real poets must always be small. Whatever they may do to benefit society, how ever great may be their fame, their’s is not an of fice which beings of earthly mould desire. They live far too etherially ever to be subservient to the world’s material progress. “The advent of a true poet is one of the greatest events in the moral world. Mankind in all time, and by com mon consent, has attributedfche fruit of his mind to inspiration, and has regarded his faculty as the rarest gift of Deity. His is, indeed, a divine of fice. It is for him to express the raptures of pie ty and give wing to devotion; to kindle the ar dors of patriotism and lend it its most passionate, elevated utterance. It it he who has best en deavored to lift up the soul of man to his Maker, to bring him nearest His holy presence and to in flame his heart with a love of his goodness. It is not for mortal to venture the profanity of embody ing the awful conception of Deity; but the pop t, with adequacy beyond all others, has celebrated His throne and equipage, and painted the clouds which surround and shroud His presence/’ (CMMMnSidttr* 2mL In all the avocation* of Ufa, in the pursuit of which we may cherish sanguine hopes of success, a determin ed zeal in their prosecution must lie close at the founda tion of thoae hopes, and must be unfalteringly persisted in e'er they will be fully realized. But fewt kings in this world, worth striving for, have “ royal roads” leading to them, along which we may loiter ‘neeth cooling shades, and yat be sure of nodangers and difficulties ahead.to hin der and delay. These ways are “ straight and narrow,” rather, “with thorns ill-beset”—difficulties above and around, and which can only be overcome by endur ing, energetic, zealous action. “ Perseverance over comes all things,” is the motto which has cheered the heart, and revived the drooping energies of many aspi rants after never-fading laurels, and strictly adhered to, has placed those enviable wreaths upon their immortal brows. This ardor manifested in the pursuit of anything, we denominate zeal, and is- of two kinds; One, a blind, infatuated zeal, not according to knowledge, which atop# not to ask whether its aims are in strict accordance with those feelings and emotions which should always be ita guide. The other weighs well the object for which it is exerted, looks deep within, for the motives that prompt it, and then, with a calm conviction that its aims and ends may be squared by the great regulating instrument of Right, pursues its course with a determination that bids defiance to ail opposition. Two characters whose actions are fresh in the mem ory of every one, and to whom all men ascribe this trait in a large degree, present themaalves ae illustrations of its different workings—Bonaparte, the warrior—Judsou, the great missionary and philanthropist. To the former, ambition washisaim—to secure it, the object of his life. For it he bent all the wonderful powere of his stupendous intellect with a zeal which scorned opposition and melted down opposing obstacles. What cared he, under this maddening desire for the rule <n Empires and the applause of men, if his zeal carried him through seas of blood And over pyramids of mortal bod ies to the dazzling heights he sought ? What mooted it, ifhis own immortality was bought by the heart's blood of millions of his fellow creatures if success crowned his efforts? Under the burning fury of this thirst, the grim visage of death had no terrors. The wail of broken-hearted widows, and the pittiless ery of orphan children, struck no sympathising chord in his own breast. Sold to his passions, he will ever remain a towering land-mark to point out to future generations, the path over which a blinded zeal would pilot its victims. How different the object for which the zeal of the latter was exerted: Ambition, he was proud to ac knowledge, was a motive which prompted him toaction; but not that ambition which sought to drag Kings and Princes from their thrones, and reign himself, the Po tentate of earth. Not that ambition which would place the glittering crown of sordid dust upon his own brow. A higher and nobler passion called forth the zeal which has given him an unsullied name— an ambition that would dethrone the Powers of Darkness, and institute in their stead, the benign reign ol the “ Prince of Peace.” An ambition that would seek to scatter the clouds of heathenism that enveloped a nation in a midnight of sin, and let in the radiant flood from the great fountain of moral light. What a contrast! one, zealous for earthly honors and earthly adulation ; the other, swelling with a holy zeal for honors which death could never dim,and eter nity never tarnish. One,short-sighted,looked only within the confines of time for the consummation of his labors —the other, catching a glimpse of the spirit world, be held there the glittering crown, which was to reward him for all his future toils and past privations. None should ever despond in any great attempt. Be zealous in every undertaking. The intellects of the great est, whom we would so much delight to equal, did not flash out in all their beauty and power in a single day or a single year. ’Twas an ardent desire after knowl edge, that polished the diamond. The heavens, which at midnight shine in beauty, do not disclose their pearls when the sun declines—one by one its twinkling lumi naries take their places in the etherial world, until at length, it glows with all the radiant splendor of Taurus and Orion. Let zeal be our Watchword, and erelong the Great will pay us deference. It can be the magic wand, which will dispel difficulties innumerable, and give success, when hope seems futile and foolish. It carried Cortes with his daring band over the burning plains of Mexi co, and bore him undaunted in the very halls of the Montezumas. It was with him when striking fearlessly at the very foundation of their abominable rites and ceremonies he washed the blood-stained altars of the great Temple of the Sun of ita human gore, and over its glittering portals placed the emblem of that only sacri fice of which man stood in need. It stood Bide by side with Washington, when in spite of the fierce ravings of the British Lion, he placed America's unfledged Eagle beyond the reach of its blood-thirsty jaws. It cheered Franklin in his researches, and gave him altogether a fame broad as the heavens and solid as the earth—a fame which shall tower like a Gibraltar against the raging waves of time, and which shall last while the thunders roar his eulogy, and the lightning's play shall wreath him garlands. CLIPPED ITEMS, A tine msj be remembered When a chapter is forgotten, A wealthy Jew residing near Selma, Arkansas, has in his possession a shekel which was struck in the mint of Judea, seventeen hundred and fifty years ago. It is about the size of a half dollar, bat the silver ia so im pure that its intrinsic Value is but fifteen cents. The owner would hardly part with the relic for as many hundred dollars. It has been in bis family five hundred and sixty years. The last Legislature of Georgia, passed an act, per mitting every white citizen of this State, male or female, being the head of a family, to hold and possess, free from levy and sale, one farm horse or mule, without re gard to the value of the same. God’s People. —God’s people are like the stars, that shine brightest in the night; they are like gold that shines brighter for the furnace; like ineense, that be comes fragrant from burning; like the camomile plant, that grows the fastest when trampled on. It is said that contracts have been entered into for supplies of ice this season at three times the price of the artical last year. Mr. Hamilton Capps, residing some ten miles west of Americus, committed suicide on the night of the 12th ult. by hanging himself. The two sons of Patrick Henry are about to erect a monument over his grave at Red Hill, in Charlotte Cos., Va,, which has not had even a head stone to mark it.— He died in 1790, and his wife, who was Dorothea Dan* dridge, died in 1831. A wise man will speak well of his neighbor, love his wife, take a home newspaper and pay for it in advance. The year 1858 begins and ends on Friday. January, April,.July, October and December end on Friday, and January and October begin on Friday. There are 53 Fridays in the year. Equal is the government of Heaven in allotting pleas ures among men, and just in the everlasting law that hath wedded happines to virtue. There are four ladieain the Utah military expedition against the Mormons. They are Mrs. Gov. Cummings, Mrs. Col. Canby, Mrs. Tyler, and Mrs. Burns. Mrs. Cummings froze one of her feet while crossing the moun* tains. Fugitive Slaves in Ohio.—lt will be remembered that a few years ago the Ohio Legislature passed a law denying the use of the jails of that Stale for theeonfine ment of fugitive slaves. The present Legislature, it seems, is disposed to repeal the law, and a bill to that effect passed the House on Tuesday, “ I’m living on hopes,” said a young elerk. “Cap ital idea, while provisions are so high,” said a young lady. According to a Belgian paper, the funded property of the House of Rothschilds of Paris, amounts at pres • ent to forty millions sterling. There are now over one hundred female practitioners regularly educated physicians, in the United States. A party of twenty-five or thirty young American en gineers have been organized, to explore and survey for a railroad between Vera Cruz and the City of Mexico. .tSttartr* fo °'- Life without excitement, is a stagnant and noisome pool. It is the agitation of the ocean, which preserves it from corruption; the motion of the air which gives it health and purity. Nature knows no rest; hereteSrn iiy is motion. To the mind indolence is death; ex citement, life. It is but little consequence what may be the ruling passion, so long as it prompts and animates. Love, ambition, avarice, revenge, hate, equally answer the great object; and although not equally reepectablt the prospect of their gratification relieves life of ita ta diousness, but their achievement throws the mind back upon itself. New objects must instantly be sought; and gratified passion must be succeeded by another, or life becomes an insupportable burthen. CHOICJE Victoria at a Bail in Buckingham Palace. At nine, our excellent Minister and Iris, niece, with the attaches of legation, called for me, and in our respective carriages we drove through St. James’ Park to Buckingham Palace. Long lines of soldiers were drawn up entrance, and cloak-room. We stood some time looking at the distinguished and royal personages as they en tered ; only those and the diplomatic corps, and the members of the Queeit’s household, passed that way. After a brief delay, we ascended the great staircase; on each side of the marble steps, masses of flowers were placed, so arranged that they formed immense beds of gorgeous, hue. Entering the state apartments, We tarried in the yellow drawing-room, until ten o’clock. Then the guests withdrew-from the centre of the room, leaving a clear space like an avenue between the hedges of splendidly dressed women. As we thus stood in eager expectation, the plate-glass doors of the saloon were thrown open; the Lord Chamberlain, with a golden rod in his hand, walked in backward, the band struck up “God Save the Queen,” and Victoria, sovereign over many millions of people, entered* By her side was the Queen of Hanover, then the Crown Prince of Prussia, and the Duches of Gloucester. Next came the Du chess of Kent, and the Princess Mary of Cambridge ; the Duch ess of Cambridge, and the Princess of Hohenlohe, the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and the Duchess of Sutherland; then all the maids- of honor and ladies in waiting. After these came Prince Albert, and the King of Hanover; the Prince of Edward of Saxe-Weimer, and the Duke of Coburg Gotha; the Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz, and the Prince of Hohenlohe; the Duke of Cambridge, noble lords, gentlemen in waiting, foreign ambassadors and ministers. Queen Victoria mbved gracefully along, smil ing and bowing in a kind, cordial manner, to the right and to the left. Reaching the throne-room, she ascended the canopied “haut pas,” where she seated herself, sorronnded by her royal guests. The throne-room was a spacious and noble saloon, hung with crimson satin, the lofty ceiling sup ported by marble columns, and richly emblazon ed ; while around it was a frieze (also of white marble), representing the “wars of the roses.” It was brightly illuminated by the light which came from the crystal globes and golden cande labra. Dazzling was the scene around me, resplendant as day with] and sparkling gems. There were more than two thousand guests ;* every lady in magnificent toilette, and every gentleman in court-dress or in uniform. Soon delightful music from Jullien’s band (led by the famous composer himself) filled the grand apartment with its exquisite strains. Then the Lord Chamberlain waved his golden wand, the crowd drew back and a large quadrille was formed, which consisted of her Majesty and all her royal visitors. Queen Victoria is muchjjhandsomer than pain ters have represented her. She is not tall, but her form is of graceful symmetry : and her bust, arms, and feet are beautiful. A bright and beaming smile lights up her face. Then there is such an air of honest, earnest goodness about her—a genial manner, so lovely and lovable—“ my heart was quickly won,” and sincerely could I have exclaimed, like her own loyal subjects, “God Save the Queen.” During the dancing of the second quadrille, the Lord Chamberlain was introduced to me, and after some pleasant yrords were exchanged, he re marked : “As you are the only person here, not present at the last drawing-room, T will have the pleasure, Madam, of presenting von to her Ma jes ty !” Os course I was delighted at this unexpected and unusual compliment, as presentations at a state-ball are not frequent. When the dance was over, and the Queen seated again, the Lord Cham berlain waved his wand of authority and the company drew back, leaving a space vacant in front of the throne : then I approached and was presented to her Majesty, who advanced and greeted ms in the most gracious and kind man ner, smiling sweetly as I curtsied low before her and then passed on to the group of distinguished and royal personages who encircled her throne. That presentation was a bright and enchanting incident to me, and my heart bounded with glad and gratified emotions, as I gazed upon the ami able and lovely Queen. She is indeed worthy of the almost adoring affection her people have for her.— From Souvenirs of Travel, by Madame Lc Vert. Life’s Changes. —While on ’change to-day in Boston, we were accosted by a gentleman, whom •we recognized as the younger brother of the senior partner of an extensive dry goods firm which ex isted in Boston a few years ago. He is poor, has a large family dependent upon him, and is out of employment. His clothing indicated long service and his whole appearance extreme poverty. In a delicate manner, he stated his circumstances and wished us to aid him in obtaining employ ment. At this moment, one of the “ solid men of Bos ton” passed and bowed to the writer, but not to the poor man. Said we, “is not that your broth ers” “The world calls him so,” said he, “but if he was my brother, would he not permit my chil dren to gather the crumbs that fall from his ta ble?"—and he turned away, choked with emo tion. We turned to take another look at the million aire as his splendid furs entered the Bank and we thought of the rich man who was “clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day,” of Dives and Lazarus, and we could not help thinking that we would sooner by far car ry the hod of the gray-haired Irishman who was ascending the ladder at the corner of Congress street, than to be in that rich brother’s place in the great day of final accounts. Subterranean City. —Every four-story house in New-York has a basement, and usually a cellar. Almost every large store has three stories below the surface of the ground besides the vaults. Many restaurants have their rooms and boxes under the sidewalk ; the numerous pipes for car rying water, gas, etc. and the drains and sewers are under the pavements, as are also many en gines, used in printing and other establishments requiring machine power. How little we think as we walk on a translucent glass pavement, that we may be passing above the heads of some bon vivants, quietly eqjoying dainty dishes or some emaciated seamstress making “ cheap clothing;” or when we see an occasional puff of steam exu ding from the middle of the street, how uncon cious we are it comes from machinery that requir es unceasing watchfulness on the part of its haggard engineer, and whose overstrained boiler may be, at that very moment, upon the point of exploding!— Home Journal. Discoveries by the Microscope. —The mould on decayed .fruit, stale bread, moist wood, etc. is shown by the microscope to be plants, bearing leaves, flowers, and seeds, and increasing with in credible rapidity, for in a few hours the seeds spring up, arrive at maturity, and bring forth seeds themselves, so that many generations are produ ced in a day. Circumstances. —We are toe apt to forget our actual dependence upon the circumstances of every instant. The most trivial events may de termine our state in this world; turning up one street instead of another, may bring us in compa ny with a person whom we should not otherwise have met, and this may lead to a train of other events, which may determine the happiness or misery of our lives.— Cecil. Sifoi In Danger and out of it.— A Hindoo promised to give his idol god “alakh,"if it would dispel a dan ger which threatened him. He meant then “a hun dred thousand rupee"—which is one meaning of the word lakh. But when the danger was past, he bethought . himself of another meaning of the word, and, gave the idol “a piece of sealing wax.” This incident illustrates well the ompti nefca of much of the devotion which is offered in sickness and afflicton to the true and living God. The Harvest of Death.— ls testimony wore needed that Death is no respecter of persons, we certainly have it to-day, in the impressive record of mortality which constitutes the leading feature of the news by the British steamer. The same journals that tell of the appalling destruction of human life by the earthquake at Naples, of thou sands of unrortunate beings whom the great world knows nothing of, except that they lived and died, announce the death of the heroic Brit Slfed Turk^rof°kev^e^lu^ trian Marshal, Radetzky, at Vienna, and of that once imperial queen of the modern stage, Made moiselle Rachel. Thus do men march on td t|e grave, to reach there at last, that common level, where all earthly distinctions, and titles, and honors, and riches count nothing! LADIES* OLIO. The Proper length of Viaite. “The lerigth of a Visit ira matfermerltirigdare fui consideration. A short call is often an aggra vation—a mere disturbance without adequate rea that its cost exceeds its worth. We despise the hollow practice of exchanging cards usual inpo lite circles ;but perhaps in artificial soeiety, where mode rather than principle is regarded, it may be a good way to enact the punctilios of courtesy without sacrifice of time and patience. “But a long visit is generally inadmissible, ex cept in cases of slight intimacy. This is well un derstood in fashionable circles. On such occa sions, to ‘kill time/ and do away the necessity of sensible conversation, it is not unusual to resort to cardplaying and kindred entertainments, which prove sovereign methods to dispose of people with whom it is not interesting to converse., When caught in such dileinas, we generally ‘take our hand’ at the stupid sport, but prudently adopt the practice of abridging the length of Our future calls, and their number, iti company, as with provisions, that which is most prized.ls not the wholesome staple, but the rarity with which the table is unfrequently graced. “Visits prolonged to days or weeks may be tol erated in a sparsely-populated region, where there is no friction of constant intercourse with the bu sy world to scour away the rust of monotony.— There time is of less value ; the expense of en tertainment is inconsiderable ; and .the society of the guest may be some compensation for the trouble given. But in the great world, and in this age of railways, and the great world is constantly enlarging, it would be unwarrantable presumption to extend a visit to such a length—unless in ex ceptional cases. The old maxim is as title aa ho ly writ:—‘Fish and guests smell after three days.’ The instant that familiarity shall have diminished the awe of the stranger’s presence, it will*require a strong bond of personal attachment or service to render his presence agreeable, or even tolera ble. Even a surfeit of good company will create incapacity for its enjoyment. “The persons whose acquaintance we should cultivate, will be those with whom we ’ are allied by business connection, family relationship, or that congeniality of character which renders companionship agreeable and profitable. We are not partial to a wide visiting circle, a 8 it cre ates a tax upon time and means which few, ex cept people of leisure, can afford ; but we must carefully avoid the opposite extreme—rarely vis iting at all.” The Bed Petticoats. This new style seems to be all the rage. The Washington correspondent of the Pennsylvanian says of the red petticoat, recently introduced by the wife of British Minister Ousely : “There js an English literary lady now in this city, whose dress, known in London as the ‘peas ant costume,’ has caused quite a stir among the fashionables. The dress consists of a red and black striped petticoat, descending wit-inn six inches of the feet, over which is worn a dress of the usual length, but hooped up to the height of the skirt. A ‘dread-naught’ overcoat, with guilt buttons, serves to keep cut the cold and damp; while a straw hat screens the head, and real, genuine, long-legged boots protect the feet. Ido not think the dres3 is very neat or pretty, but it is novel, and that is something. It is considered an improvement on the Bloomer costume. In all the mud of a Washington winter, it is a much better dress than the street sweeping machines which have so long prevailed.” A New York letter writer says: Red petticoats begin to peep out in Broadway, modestly, and as if half ashamed of themselves—but still sufficiently manifest to convince the world of their presence. It is curious to note the sud den change in the direction of *the promenader/ eyes. The gaze which lately stared fixedly at even height with ladies’ faces, is now modestly lowered upon the hem of the garment, in search of the new fashion and the pretty ankles, So far but few (petticoats) have appeared—but the fire is kindled, and it only needs the breath of a sin gle fashion monger to break forth into a crimson flame which will envelope all womanhood. The influence of women. —ls we wish to know the political and moral condition of a State, we must ask what rank women hold in it. Their influence embraces the whole of life. A wife, a mother—two magical words—comprising the sweetest sources of man’s felictiy. Their’s is the reign of beauty, of love, of reason. Always to reign ! A man takes counsel with his wife : he obeys her long after she has ceased to live, and the ideas which he has received from her be come principles even stronger that his passions. —Martin. m i God is written on the flowers that sweeten the air, on the breeze that rocks the flowers upon the stem, upon the rain-drop that refreshes the sprig of moss that lifts its head in the desert, upon its deep chambers—upon every pencilled sheet that sleeps in the cavern of the deep, no less than the mighty sun that warms and cheers millions of creatures. Thought is to the thinker what sparks are to the glowing iron, as it is whirled rustling from the forge to the anvil. It is a part of the thinker—a scintillation from the soul, and the language is the light of the kindling thought. Where is Home?— The Watchman and Reflec tor thus beautifully illustrates a child’s idea of home: ,** . - ...u ■ , \ “This is my home P’cried a little one, a treas ured boy of four summers, as fresh and rosy, he came in from school, at the close of a short win ter afternoon. “Indeed, little Willie,” said his mother’s visitor, “how is it ? Suppose you go out on the sidewalk and try the next door ; suppose you step into the entry, throw off your little sack as you have here, and proceed to the parlor—wouldn’t that be your home ?” “No, indeed,” said Willie, “that would’nt be it.” “But tell me why not ?” Willie had never thought of this. He paused for a moment, then directing his eyes to where his mother sat quietly sewing, he replied with an earnest gesture : “/Sl he lives here .” A Dove Story. —A gentleman of this city, who hacl a dove cot at his residence at the West End, re lates the following incident as having occurred last week : In the cot were a male and female dove and two squabs. The male squab having fled, the elderly dove drove from his nest his fe male mate, promoted to his bed and board the young female squab. Finally upon one occasion when the female appeared at the door of the cot the male sailed out, pecked at her and drove her away. The persecuted mother flew down to the perch below, where, with her head under her wing, she remained for a short time and then fell suddenly to the ground. The inmates of the house who had witnessed the proceeding, imme diately went out and ascertained that the dove was dead, but no wound was found sufficient to cause death. Possibly she died of a broken heart from the brutal treatment of her false and fickle mate. WHvnot, proud lady, when the intelligent, no ble-hearted, but humble mechanic—the soul of truth and honor—offered you the wealth of his affection ; why not accept him with the same blushing smile you would bestow upon the ele gant gentleman of leisure, who twirls a faivy-liko ratan, pays you excessive compliments, and who would not soil his immaculate kids for a kingdom ? Think you, because the hands are hardened with labor, and the brow bronzed by God's own fire in the heavens, the heart is not true and noble, and the arm strong and brave to shield you from the ills of life? H . ‘ • •• v “Worth makes the man,*’ and we may often find those with shabby coat and sun-burned cheek, but, “On whose unembarrass’d brow jwfamM I Nature has written ’Gentleman.!?’ The Journey ov Life.— Ten thousand human • beings set forth on theirjouvney. After ten years, one-third at least have disappeared.’ At , the middle point of the common measure of life, but half are still upon the road. Faster and faster, as the ranks grow thinner, they that remained till now become weary, and lie down and rise no more. At threo-score and ten, a band of some four hun dred yet struggle on. At ninety, these have been reduced to a handful of thirty trembling patri archs. Year after year they fall in diminishing numbers. One lingers, perhaps, a lonely mM-ye , till the century is over. W etafe anU work of death is finished.— Jfuhoj* Harness. FARMER S COLUMN. ij'lljj p ’ fOMHEBCiiI . Augusta, Feb. 9. Cotton.—Sales Monday afternoon, 379 bales: 7at 9|, 64 lit lot, r>4 at lei, Mat 107, 7 at 11, 83, (crop lot) at IJM cents. : t 0 WAJ Sales this morning, 1741 bales: 3at B|, 1at9,5 at 9f 34 at 9J, 30 at 9f, 5 at 9f, 21 at 10, Bat 10 1-16, 28 at 10|, 67 at 101, 231 at 101, 179 at lOf, 231 at lOf, 528 at 11, 136 at 111 cents. The demand is very active to-day, at priees £ to £c advance on yesterday. Savannah, Feb. 8. Cotton. —Sales to-day reached 1124 bales, at from t to tc advance. The inquiry was brisk; prices ranging from 9 tolljc. Augusta Prices Current. WHOLESALE PRICES. BACON.—Hams, lb Hi ® 12 Canvassed Hams, ft lb 15 (g> 16 Shoulders, ft> fa Western Sides. %>, lb 11 @ Iti Clear Sides, Tenn., lb 00 fa 00 Ribbed Sides, lb 11 0 12 Hog Round, new, ft lb 10J <3 11 FLOUR.—Country a bbl 500 (a 600 Tennessee 7 ft bbl 475 @5 60 Ci‘y Mills $ bbl 550 17 50 Etowah tp bbl 500 fa 750 Denmead’s bbl 500 <3 750 CP Am r • , $ bbl -7 00 57 50 ™rJ N -~ C . orn in sack $ bush 55 <3 60 Wheat, white tp bush 1 05 5 1 15 p a,s $ bush 45 (0 50 bush 70 fa 75 *, eas ~ , bush 75 <3 8S IRON. “ed. | !T h Sf 2 English, Common, 33 lb 3i “ Refined, %lb 3# <5 LARD.— |B 9 11 MOLASSES.—Cuba <jd gal 25 41 28 St. Croix & gl 40 Sugar House Syrup gal 42 fa 45 Chinese Syrup gal 40 fa 50 SUGARS.—N. Orleans lb fa Porto Rico ft lb 8 <3 8J Muscovado lb fa 9 Refined C lb 11 (3 Hi ‘ Refined B plb 11 fa 12 Refined A lb lli fa 12$ Powdered lb 12 fa 13 Crushed lb 12 fa 13 SALT.— p sack 1 00 hi 1 10 COFFEE.—Rio p lb lli S 124 Laguira slb 13 fa 14 Java plb 16 fa 18 Use of Leaves for Hot-Beds.—A correspondent of one of our leading agricultural papers thus writes on the subject of hot-beds, a very useful aid to an early crop of vegetables. For hot-bed purposes, leaves (oak best of all) are preferable to tan, especially in this country, where it is diffi cult to find a sample of real old oak tan, it being nothing more than hemlock bark that is used in most tanneries. Good oak tan bark emits a won derfully fine steady heat for horticultural purpo ses whereit is rightly managed, and if wanted for Eits or the like, well adapted. But as we said efore, for farming or hot-bed purposes, used oc casionally with a little manure, if extra heat is re quired, leaves in a proper condition are a healthy means of obtaining artificial heat for the growth of tender plants. In your city, at the Patron’s, a great deal is often done in winter by their aid. We have seen fine radishes, lettuce and other sal ads, &c., along in the depth of winter, secured thereby. Still we are bound to confess, with ex traordinary labor, hardly sufficient being secured to compensate therefor; and we go in stoutly, in a climate like our winters, for small houses for the growth of winter vegetables in preference. In these, a pit well filled with properly prepared leaves would be an acquisition, in supplying a moist and otherwise healthy atmosphere for the growth of vegetables, if coupled with a flue or other means of securing the proper heat. This does not affect the legitimate use of the hot-bed in spring, for the raising of the young plants for future planting, &c., therefore we may as well state that to be usolul at that time, leaves must be collected in the fall, when perfectly dry, both frohl water and remaining life, and stored away in a dry shed. If no water is allowed to go near them fermentation will not commence, or at least in a susceptible degree, while in that state, and hence may be induced at any time by its appli cation, and sometimes mixing a portion of them with stable manure. The two act finely together, the leaves counteracting the strong heat of the manure, and at the same time furnishing a medi um tor obtaining a steady and long continued healthy heat. Leaves collected in the spring, that have been tossed about by every wind and dried up with frost and sun all winter, have about lost their power of furnishing heat during their remaining stage of decay, or except in such small doses as to be unserviceable ; hence they should be collected in the fall as described. - Cotton Manfacturing.—At the recent annual meeting of the Atlantic Cotton Mills in Boston, the treasurer’s account showed the total assets of the Company’s property to be $2,360,081, with $558,242 liabilities. The profits of manufacturing for the six months ending May, 1857, were $77,- 050. The losses for the six months ending No vember, 1857, were $32,143. This company sells its own goods, having no commission agent, and since March 1, 1856, lias sold goods to the value of $2,250,000. It passed through the late crisis without paying extra interest. Genius vs. Labor.—“Of what use is all your studying and your books?” said on honest farmer to an ingenius artist. “They don’t make the corn grow, nor proJuce vegetables for market. My Sam does more good with his plough in one month, than you can do with your books and papers in one year.” “What plough does your son use ?” said the artist quietly. “Why he uses ’s plough, to be sure. He can do nothing with any other. By using this plough we save half the labor, and raise three times as much as we did with the old wooden concern. The artist, quietly again turned over one of his sheets, and showed the farmer the drawing of the lauded plough, saying, “I am the inventor of your favorite plough, and my name The astonished farmer shook the artist heartily by the hand, and invited him to call at the farm house and make it his home as long as he liked. Painting Farm Implements. —A great saving may be made by keeping implements constantly under shelter when not in use. But this is near ly impossible ; and besides, many of them must of necessity be exposed, during their employment to many days of hot sun and occasional showers. It is therefore important to keep them wellpainted. Asa general average, they will last twice as long by the protection of a coat of paint, renewed as it is worn off. A cheap material as a coating for many kinds of farm implements is boiled linseed oil.— Working Fanner. A Water Mixture For Leather.- Take one pint of tanner’s oil, half a pound of tallow, a lump of good rosin the size of a hen’s egg, lampblack, three cents worth—mix together, and melt grad ually over a slow fire. When to be applied, the mixture should be made about milk-warm, and put on with a clean sponge. The leather may be a little damp, not wet. The above cement, when applied to boots and shoes, will effectually preventtheir soaking water, and keep the leather pliant, and the feet of the wearer warm and dry. Every farmer who regards comfort as a desideratum should supply himself with this article, and ap ply it to his boots and shoes. —Germantown Tel. Worth Knowing. —A piece of candle may be made to burn all night in a siok room or else where, where a dull light is wished, by putting finely powdered salt on the candle until it reach es the black part of the wick. In this way a mild and steady light may be kept through the night from a small piece of candle. - Good Spring Pigs. —Elihu Eldredge of Union Springs N. Y., has shown the present season the advantages of good management in raising spring pigs for autumn fattening. They came on the 29th dav of 3d mo. (March) last and were slaugh tered on the 23d of last month, being less than nine months old. Their early feed—a most im portant item in causing their ultimate larger size i-was skim milk, undiluted, mixed with meat and regularity and cleanliness were properly at tended to They were half Suffolk, and no doubt this admixture of blood greatly favored their growth and fattening. They kept in a floor pen—which was thought to be important on several accounts, and especially so as preventing rooting. They were six in number, and the following were their respective weight when slaughtered and dressed —367 lbs., 351, 322, 316, 310, 209—aggregate 1955 lbs., and average 326 lbs.