Newspaper Page Text
LITERARY
Swpimttft (trnsadcr.
PENFIELD, GEORGIA.
L. LINCOLN VEAZEY, Ediiorl
Tuesday morning, marchTi7Tbsß.
Oc* absence during the greater portion of last
week, prevented our giving to the present num
ber the usual amount of attention. We hope this
will account satisfactorily for any deficiency which
our readers may discover.
He who never felt the weariness arising from
asental labor, cannot appreciate the pleasures of
a week's recreation. The sun seems to us to shine
with a purer brightness, and the skies to have a
softer tint, when we look upon them with a mind
free from all thoughts of columns and paragraphs.
Great as is the pleasure of reading, there are
times when it is an inexpressible luxury not to
see inside of a book or a paper for whole days.
<i>i>
T. A. Burke, late associate editor of the Augusta
Evening Dispatch, has associated himself with the
Savannah Morning Nervs. Mr. Burke has very ex
tensive experience in journalism.
The Editorial Convention which proposed meet
ing at Marietta on the Ist instant, from various
causes, failed to convene. Dr. G. T. Wilburn, of
the Educational Journal, was the only visiting edi
tor who reported himself. We are sorry the doc
tor was disappointed in having the coveted plea
sure of reading the phisiognomies of his editorial
brethren, and hope he will have better luck an
other time.
Evert man carries the index of his history in
his countenance. How he has spent each hour
or day of his life may be unknown, but that, he
has sinned, suffered, done deeds of kindness or
acts of benevolence, is written there with a pen
cilling too unerring to be ever effaced.
The Griffin papers announce the death of Hon.
J, H. Stark, of that place. He had been suffer*
ing for a number of years from a chronic cutane
ous affection, but the disease which carried him
off, was of short duration. He had long been a
prominent member of the legal fraternity, and
had enjoyed several terms of office on the judicial
benoh.
The Fly Leaf is a neat little semi-annual, edited
and published by the young ladies of College
Temple, Newnan, Ga. It is gotten up in verv
handsome stvle, and reflects great credit on its
managers.
We have received the January and February
Nos. of the Atlanta Medical & Surgical Journal. It
is a very neat pamphlet of sixty-four pages, edited
by Drs. Logan & Westmoreland, and published
at $3 a-year. We are not qualified to judge of the
intrinsic worth of anything of this kind, but sup
pose from the known abilities of its editors and
contributors, that it is a meritorious publication-
Harper's Magazine for March is, with its accus
tomed punctuality, on our table. The “ Drawer ”
is as usual replete with good things, and, what is
better, (which can be said of the humorous mat
ter of very few journals,) most of his sprightly an
ecdotes are entirely new. Os the lending papers,
“ Journeyings in the Tropics,” is, we think, the
best. Thackeray's Virginians is becoming dull
and tiresome.
¥ e see or hear of, almost every day, some man
who, by ill-management or extravagance
has spent a fortune which rendered- him inde
pendent, and reduced his family to poverty.
Such cases are so common that their occurrence
has ceased to excite wonder. Great, however, as
their number is, the number of intellectual prod
igals is still greater. We cannot become practi
cally convinced of this, because we do not know
in any instance the precise amount of talent with
which the individual is endowed. This much we
do know, however: that of the talent which is
exercised by far the larger portion, is perverted
to unworthy purposes: to the sordid ambition of
acquiring wealth; to the selfish desire for per
sonal aggrandizement: to the gratification of the
most debasing passions of our nature ; while the
amount expended in the attainment of noble
ends by noble means, is small indeed.
Os the talent, wasted by inaction, we can form
no estimate. That it is by no means inconsider
able, we may readily and safely infer from the
data in our possession. Many are never under
any necessity of using their mental powers, and
consequently they allow them to remain unexer
eised and undeveloped. Sometimes a sudden
emergency has aroused a person of this character
to action, when all have been surprised by the
display of faculties before unsuspected. Should
such an exciting cause never come, the individ
ual may live and die in utter ignorance of the 1
endowments with which he had been blessed by
Heaven.
When a man beggars himself and his family
by his improvidence, he is visited by the heaviest
censures of society. Shall he who allows his men
tal fortune to waste away in his keeping; who
suffers the rich treasures which the Lord hath
given him to decay by silent rust, or perverts
them to some unhallowed purpose, escape con
demnation ? His fellow-men may permit him to
pass unmarked, but a greater than man has said,
“ to whom much is given, of the same shall much
be required.”
Offences must come. Os this we are assured by
Holy Writ, and every day’s experience adds
corroborating confirmation. The pathway of life
is not a carpeted lawn where the feet continually
press soft flowers and sweetly smelling herbs.
None can travel it without findiug places of rough
ness, where wearied and worn the spirit almost
faints. They are placed there in mercy, to lift
up the eye to the rock of strength, whence pure,
perennial waters gush forth to revive the flagging
energies of the soul.
Offences must come. Knowing this, we should
arm ourself with patience, and thus rob them of
their power to harm. Gautemozin, the Mexican
Chieftain, when placed by his conquerors on a bed
of glowing coals, observed to a companion, that
he felt as pleasant as if on a couch of roses. This
was a height of stoic philosophy to which few can
attain, but all may imitate his example. Any
may summon a divinity of soul which mot ks suf
fering and defies fate. When thus used, offences
purify the spirit from the dross of earthliness
that enthrall hs powers, and fit it for its higher
destiny.
Offences must come. But let not this assur
ance bring with it the gloom of despondence.
Enjoy not less the sunshine of this hour, because
the next may be wrapped in clouds. Every period
of life has its variations of light and shadow through
which we must pass in the journey to eternity.
Even down to old age, the declining sun illumin
ates with its golden beams many a spot upon
which the eyes may rest with delight. Fear not
offenees. Seek not to avoid them. They are as
necessary for the soul’s welfare as the food we
eat or the air we breathe is for our physical exis
tence.
| TIT hat is romance? This is one of those words
?T in our language which all seem to under
stand; yet, of which a definition is very difficult.
A consultation with the lexicon would perhaps
enable us to use it correctly in writing and speak
ing, but would perhaps give us slight insight into
the whole force of its signification. This can be
learned only by a long and careful study of all
the forms of expression in which it is employed.
Romance may, in few words, be defined a pre
dominance of the fancy over all the other facul
ties —n product of the imagination rather than of
reason and judgment. It is most generally ap
plied to forms of things and circumstances exist
ing only in the mind though not always thus
restricted in its signification. When used in ref
erence to things that actually exist, it means all
that is wild, irregular and pleasant as opposed to
what is useful. It is thus that such lives as those
of D’Orsay and Peterborough are classed as ro
mantic, because they made all their talents and
energies subservient to the one morbid passion for
adventure. To see and enjoy was the whole end
and aim of their being. Blessed with mental
powers which, if rightly employed, might have
told upon the destinies of the world, they wasted
them miserably in imparting a dazzling, butnn
real halo to their own names. A romantic life
seldom moves a straw in the world’s material ad
vancement, and is not always one of happiness to
him who thus lives.
Asa department of literature, romance has been
a field where the finest talents have been exerted,
and where inventive genius has achieved some of
its greatest triumphs. The labors of a novel wri
ter are rightly appreciated only by a few. One
reason for this is obvious. A man may succeed in
novel writing without excelling, and the infer
ence thence is, that a very moderate degree of
mental capacity is essential to becoming a good
writer in this department. The truth is, there is
none in which a higher order of intellect is requi
site, and none in which real excellence is so sel
dom attained. To shape out a plot, to give it
symmetrical proportions and harmonize all its
parts, is no easy task. Novels that may be read
are plenteous enough, but the number of good
ones is very small.
Novel reading is almost universally condemned
by the teachers of morality. Such an indiscrim
inate condemnation we think undeserved, and a
gross confounding of abuse and use. There cer
tainly are many works of fiction which are un
safe and pernicious; bat there are others which
may be read with positive benefit. Fiction is but
an imitation of truth. The scenes and charac
ters which the writer of romance introduces in
his pages are designed only as pictures of the
world of reality. The artist places on the canvas
the forms and colors of external objects, and thus
seeks to convey to the eye some impression of
their real appearance. If he be a master of his
art, he does this so perfeotly as almost to deceive
the senses. Often, however, it is a miserable
daub, requiring a foot-note to inform the beholder
what object was intended to be represented. So
is it with novel writing. One who thoroughly
understands it as an art, will give such represen
tations of persons, manners and things as to
please and instruct. Multitudes, however, in
attempting this, produce misshapen masses of
falsehood and exageration without truth or beauty.
Thought entered the cavern where mind lay
sleeping. “Come,” said the visitant, “ and I
will show you wonders greater than any of which
you have hitherto formed a conception. Noth
ing shall be hidden from our view; and as we
strive to conquer, victory shall be a constant at
tendant on our footsteps. Together, we may tra
verse the broad earth, and whatever we may touch
shall feel our power and acknowledge our posses
sion.” Charmed by promises so flattering, the.
fair sleeper arose, and instantly anew light shone
into the dark abode where! from infancy, it had
lain. Hand in hand the two companions com
menced their journey. They entered the field
of science, and mystery forthwith lifted, her dark
veil from before their presence. They willed it,
and nature laid open all her arcana to their view.
Knowledge became their handmaid, nnd all the
rich treasures of her vast store-house were placed
at their command : fire, air, water, light, all be
came passive agents subject to their every behest.
“See,” said mind exultingly, “what wondrous
changes my powers have wrought! The world
is no longer the same.” “Yea,” replied her com
panion; “but without my awakening call, what
would your powers have accomplished ?” Mind
may be a giant in its strength, but y/ithout the
sti nutating vigor of thought, it will forever lie
dormant.
The Southern Medical &Surgical Journal’, published
at Augusta, Ga., and edited by Drs. H. F. & R.
Campbell, has long enjoyed a well deserved pop
ularity among the medical fraternity. Terms, $2
per annum, in advance.
We find the following beautiful little} paragraph
in Harper’s Easy Chair:
“There is a dream which the wisest and best in
all times and countries have dreamed ; there is a
hope which no blight has ever destroyed, nor all
disappointment chilled: pagans have tailed it the
immortal fields and the happy hunting-grounds;
philosophers have named it the future andthedis
enthrallment of humanity; poets have fancied it
Paradise, and Christians call it the Millennium
and Heaven. It is the greast rest—the sublime
accomplishment—the final triumph! It is the
sufficing flower of which all human ponver and as
piration are but the buds.
That dream becomes a hope in all humble
minds, and a faith in all Christian hearts. It is
refreshed and cherished by the tumultuous pan
orama of history, by the Scriptures which con
sole mankind, by intercourse with the meek and
faithful and loving, and by the unfailing pro
cesses of an evev-beneficent Nature. But such a
kindly season at this time feeds and fans the
flame anew. “Come unto me, all ye who labor
and are heavy laden.” And the earnest of the
rest is the unchanging goodness of the Giver.”
[Communicated.^
THE OLD HOME AND THE NEW.
BY CI,ABA CLIFTON.
How bright, how dazzling bright that old home
was—so full of love and of sunshine! Ah !
me; how many loving pictures of it are hanging on
the wallsof memory’s gallery; how often thoughts
of it wash the cheeks with pearly drops! sweet,
hallowed associations! may your memories never
die! How swiftly the scenes of the past flit be
fore me now! The old house at the foot of that
hill where we gathered flowers in the sweet time;
the brook with its drooping willows, and the
spring with waters so sparkling and bright; the
long summer days that we dreamed away in
thoughtless innocence under the willows, and the
glorious autumn-time when we gathered the nntß
and the berries on the hill-side, and after that
the winter joys; the merry slides down the hill;
the long evenings around the fireside, with the
loved and the true; Pa with his papers and pipe,
and Ma with her sewing; and then comes the
merry romps over the room with Charley and
Hall. Happy, happy days! How swiftly ye
glided away! The old home has passed into
ether hands; no merry children build play-houses
under the old willows; no paper boats float on
the brook; all is changed! The old home was
left for the mansion in the city, where fashion
and style preside with chilling dignity. ‘ljae old
arm-chair, the low bedsteads and the pictures
that once hung on the walls are piled together
in the garret, to give room to luxurious couches
that woo to indolence, and to landscapes in gil
ded frames; no merry children romp through ;
the halls nor play hide in the parlors when I
school hours are over; the ringing laugh is hushed
as the little ones ascend the brown stone-step,
and ringing for admittance to their own home,
walk with fearful awe into the sitting-room, peep
ing into the grand parlor as they pass, wondering
at its darkness and gloom, and wondering why
they always feel as if they had come to a grand
funeral. Little Alf. wishes he might run up the
grand stairway and play hide’ with Charlev and
Hall, then weeps to think there are no brothers
now; long ago he followed them to the old church
yard; then come thoughts of mama —the darling
Ma that to welcome their bounding step*
with a kiss; that let them play all day long with
out getting the headache from their noise.
Where, now, was her smiling welcome? Aye!
well mayest thou weep little ones —weep bitter,
burning tears, for never more will the music of
that loved voice greet your ears; no more will
she sing you lullabys, run her soft fingers through
your brown curls and kiss your drooping eyelids
until your little heart aches with excessive hap
piness. Poor little ones! well may you creep
into the corner and dry your tears at the rustling
sound of the gorgeous robe that is approaching!
You bow and call her mother,‘but you dare not
run with smiling faces and clasp your ti ny arms
around her neck; you dare not nestle the little
tired head on her jeweled breast or press your
quivering lips on that haughty brow. Aye! lit
tle sufferers, creep away ip to the garret with the
old chairs and pictures, and weep far the old
home by the willow brook: for the dead mama
that rests beside Charley and Hall in the grave
yard; weep until your eyes are red, and then go
to the old nurse and be dressed for di uner; sit
up as stately as the new mother, speak when you
are spoken to, look wonderingly at Pa and ask
yourself again and again if he loves you any more
now, or if he, too, is afraid of the new 1 lome and
the new mother.
Feb. 22, 1858.
CLIPPED ITEMS,
A line may be remembered when a chapter is f rgotten.
It is stated that excellent salt is manufactured
at the Salt Springs, inLancaster county, Nebraska,
equal to the best qualities manufactured in any
part of the world. The water from which the salt
is made yields from forty-five to fifty pounds to
; fifty gallons.
Mr. Rov O. Crowley, of Richmond, Va, has ac
-1 cepted the appointment of the Chief Operator, in
the Petersburgh telegraph office, the late Opera tor
Mr. R. H. Woodward, having accepted the same
position in the office at Augusta, Ga.
The records kept at the Pennsylvania Hospital
show that this has been the mildest winter known
for sixty-nine years. The records do not reach
beyond his period. If they did they might ahow
that there has been no such weather since William
Penn settled the colony in 1682.
Let your Ways be Established. —Be firm—have
• decision of character —thinking and examining
for yourself promote this. Many arrive at mature
; life ; even descend to hoary age before they decide
: upon what principles they will live. All men
should have fixed principles, ways established,
and not be drifted along like a feather—unsteady
as a wave of the sea.
Prof. Swallow, State Geologist of Missouri, has
made an important geological discovery in Kan
sas of a formation hitherto unknown in the West,
i. e. that of Permian rocks, identical with Per
mian species of Russia and England.
Gen. J. P. Hf.ndkrsox, the new Senator from
Texas, the sucessor to the late Gen. Rusk, ap
peared in the Senate on Monday moaning, and
took the usual oath of office.
An inveterate bachelor being asked why he did
not secure some fond one’s company in his voyage
on the ocean of life, replied—“ I would if I were
sure such an ocean would be pacific.”
When certain persons abuse us, let us ask our
selves what description of characters it is that they
admire; we shall often find this a very consolatory
question.
The bill appropriating SBOO,OOO to She Coving
ton and Ohio Railroad has passed the Virginia
Senate.
A purse of $375 has been pledged by the stu
dents of Yale College for the family of the late
William Miles, the fireman who was shot in the
recent affray.
The Dublin papers are teeming with enthusias
tic notices of a young American actor, named
Leland Ravenswood, who has recently appeared
in that city, and said to “personate Hamlet,”
such as mortal man was never known to have
done before.
*
Democritus laughed at the world, but at noth
ing more in it, than people’s pursuit of riches and
honor.
A certain editor thinks when a single gentle
man cannot pass a clothes line without counting
all the long stockings, it is a sign that he ought
to get married, and the sooner the better.
Appointment by the President— By and roith
tlie advice and consent of the Senate —J. P. M. Epping
of South Carolina, to be Consul of 3th e United
States at Elsinore in Denmark.
W. R. Dickinson, Postmaster at Compromise,
Hickman county, Ky. committed sijicide a few
days since, by taking opium.
The Newbury port (Mass.) Herald says that the
ice business is prosecuted in that ciUy with con
siderable activity. Six vessels are loading ‘with
ice for Southern markets, and in addition vast
quantities are being stored intheApacaait buildings
on the wharves.
An old lady, not remarkable far the clearness ,
of her ideas, describing a fine susmmer evening
said—
“lt was a beautiful night— tl*e moon made
everything light as a feather.
Prof. D. Boston Ross, favorably* known as the
author of a Southern Reader, an<l other school
books for the use of the children of the South,
died a few days since at Hodensfi eld, N. J., in
his 38th year.
Savannah Republican, of the sth inst.,
says a telegraph dispatch was received in that city
Wednesday announcing that Jas. B. Shelton, a
young man well known in Savanni h, was killed
in an affray in Washington City on 1 ‘uesday night
last.
“ Betty Bliss,” widow of the late .Major Bliss,
U. S. Armv, and daughter of Gon. Tajvlor, the ex-
President was married on the 11th ix ist, to Phil
lip P. Dandridge, Esq, of Virginia. Tt te marriage
took place at New Orleans.
By a letter received from a friend,’ we learn
that the southern portion of Hart eot onty was
visited by a violent hurricane aceompai ned with
hail, on the 17th ult, which destroyed! houses,
fences, and in fact everything which h appened
to be in its course. It was however, con ifined to
a narrow channel.—Athens Watchman.
The marine losses for the past month sl’ibws an
aggregate of thirty-six vessels, of which eleven
were ships, four were barks, five were brig s, thir
teen were schooners, two were steamers ax id ono
a steam tug. The total value of propett y lost
was $1,284,300.
Mr. John Barry, of Nashville, Tenn, was fa tally
wounded by his son, last week, while fonoinir with
foils, the point of the foil entering juat above Hie
eye. After lingering a few day* he died on T* es
day. His son, quite a youth, is ajmeat frantic
with grief at the occurence.
CHOICE SELECTIONS.
The Size of Mrs.—“ There were giants in those j
i days,” no doubt: yet the average size of the great
mass of human beingß does not change. The j
great stature .of the Patagonians, of which so much j
has been said and written, has been proved to be i
quite as fabulous as the terrible maelstrom (of the i
geographies) near the coast of Norway. Some j
race* are taller than others, and that is all. The j
English are taller than the French, and fatter i
too. Americans are taller than Englishmen; and ,
Vermont and Kentucky it is known has morel
tall men than the other States of the Union. |
That the average size of the human family does j
not change is abundantly proved by facts which ;
have been gathered by a recent writer from whom i
we have this statement:
“The general opinion is, that men have physi
cally degenerated since the early eras of the
world. But all the facts and circumstances which
can be brought forward on this subject tend to show
that the human form has not degenerated, and
that men of the present age are of the same stat
ure as at the beginning of the world. Thus, all
the remains of the human body, the bones, and
particularly the teeth, which have been found un
changed in the most ancient urns and burial pla
ces, demonstate this point clearly. The oldest
ceffin in the world iB that found in the great pyr
amid of Egypt: and this sarcophagus hardly ex
ceeds the size of our ordinary coffin, being six feet
and a half long. That we are not degenerating
from the effects of civilization is clear, because the
savages do not exceed us in height.”
“And is this the Tomb or my Husband?” —The
Charleston Evening News says that “ the venera
ble widow of the immortal Calhoun visited the
tomb of her husband on Sunday last, at St. Phil
lips Church, after the congregation dispersed, ac
companied bv one of the elder members of the
church and vestry and two ladies. The visit was
affecting—the widow never having been in the
city since the demise of her illustrious husband—
and her simple and unaffected exclamation of
“And is this the tomb of my husband ? ” brought
teal’s-to the eyes of those who accompanied her,
while her own were streaming with the recollec
tions of the past, and hopes of a happy meeting
in a better land! From the grave yard, the wid
ow then visited the statue, at the city Hall: and
after contemplating it in its bearings, in melan
choly silence pronounced it a very good likeness.”
The tomb of Calhoun! Who of Southern blood
will visit the grave yard in which the remains of
Calhoun, that great Southern Statesman, that
will not reverently look upon his tomb and re
member how devoted an advocate he was of
Southern Rights, and of his beloved South in her
every emergency? Who will forget his warnings
and his prophecies ?
Odors of Plants.
There is a weird old legend, such as the chil
dren of the North delight to hear, that tells of
the revenge some flowers took on a fair maiden.
She lies sweetly slumbering on her couch,
and by her side stands the vase filled with fra
grant flowers. And, as night sinks deeper and
deeper on all that lives upon the earth, the silence
is suddenly broken by a gentle rustling and rush
ing among the flowers. Dressed in garments
not woven by human hands, and crowned
with golden diadems, strange, unearthly beings
flutter faintly through the chamber. From the
crimson bosom of the rose there rises a lofty lady,
her curies unlosened and strewn with pearls as if
with bright dew-drops. From the helmet of the
blue aconite, a knight steps forth with bold brow,
his sword shining brightly, his crest crimson
with blo9dy plumes. A gentle maiden glides
softly from the lily’s white chalice, veiled with a
silky, gossamer web ; but the proud tulip sends
forth a dark blackamoor, and high on his green
turban glistens a golden crescent. The crown
imperial opens its gates to a stately monarch with
sceptre in hand, and all the irises around send
■well-armed sword-bearers to guard him. But from
the sweet-scented leaves of the narcissus there
starts a bold boy with eager glance, and he steps
up to the maid and presses his hot kisses upon
her half-parted lips. His friends and companions
surround them and sing their plaintive song, how
they rested so warm on their mother’s bosom,
where the bright sun played witJi their leaves,
where gentle breezes cooled their heated crowns
and dew and blesst and rains fed them with heavenly
food, until the cruel maid came and tore them
from their beloved home. And they sing, and
they whisper, and dance around her couch, until
morning dawns and they vanish in the dim twi
light. But when the sun’s first rays gild the mai
den’s soft cheek, they fall upon life no more—a
faded flower, she has joined her withered sisters,
and the morning breeze has borne with their last
sweet fragrance her soul also to heaven.
The aroma yielded by plants, when crushed,
has suggested many touching passages to our po
ets. Who remembers not, when thus reminded,
some be’oved one that in health breathed, like
the wild-rose, its faint, delicious life, and, as the
end drew near, with richer fragrance, sank, like
the violet, to the ground, and, dying by a mossy
stone, half hidden from the eye, continued to
breathe rich odors to all who loved her ? Os such
violets, Kirk White sang:
“Yet though thou fade,
From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise,
And teach the maid
That goodness time’s rude hand defies—
That virtue lives when beauty dies.”
The most touching of all, however, is, probably
Moore ’-8 reference to that source from whence
alone cotfttoth comfort in sorrow :
“Thpa.canst heal the broken heart,
Which hke the plants that throw
1 Their £rag*anc from the wounded part,
■Rreat'ie sweetness out of wee.”
Many among them, it is true, require neither
pain nor violence to giv® .out their odor; they
are rather like firm andreserv.ed ipen, who choose
not to give a reply, except to a clear and positive
question. For it is from such plants,that we ob
tain the most decided odors, as they themselves
belong, of all others, to the best-formed and most
perfect children of Flora. Nor need we, thanks
to the “good present times,” resort any longer to
the sad custom of our fathers, when
“With rose and swete flowers
Was strawed halles and bouris.”
Often, it is true, the reply is far from pleasant,
especially when, with youthful thoughtlessness,
we attack an unknown enemy. We may well
be content if, as in the case of a cestrum, we are
treated only to a smell of roast pig, or if the odor
of rancid fat makes us turn angrily away from a
surly round-head among the cactus. Far worse
are other plants—the very clows of the vegetable
world —who reply to our greeting with foetid cdor,
or even more noisome stenches; and what makes
the impression more painful still is, that they
have a perfect right to repel the intruder, and to
express their very natural wish not to be pinched
and illtreated by unknown persons. The goose
foot repays the aggressor at once with an unmis
takable odor of spoiled salt-fish, and thus has be
come a veritable touch-me-not. But even the
instinct of animals is proved not to be infallible
by some such plants, as is the case with some
stapelias—called carrion flowers, because of their
putrid and disagreeable odor—which actually
cheat poor flies into the belief that they are pu
trid animal matter, and induce them, under such
false pretences, to lay their eggs in tlieir flesh
colored blossoms. Whole races of plants, indeed,
like families that bear the name of the great bot
anist, Raffles, and various- orchides, diffuse an
oder as bad and disgusting as men who boast of
their wickedness, and, openly professing their
creed, infect thus whole classes ot society. IN ow
and then, they present even curious analogies
as the orchis, which assumes the shape of a
more familiar than agreeable bug, and, with un
desired consistency, resembles it also m odor.
But a world of sweet odors is ever rising around
us, whether we walk through the open land ol
our South, perfumed with the magnolia s rich
fragrance, or breathe the sweet air of violet
scented” Athens. Gentler feelings awake in oui
heart, pleasant memories crowd all the chambers
of our mind, and fancy even awakes to indulge
in a thousand reveries, when we think of
“ a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows ;
Quite over-canopied with woodbine.
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine—
Where sleeps Titania, some time ot night,
Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight.
. ——
The Cure or Intemperate Habits.—A notion
prevails that a person addicted to alcohol stimu
lants cannot at once leave them oft'without dan
ger of illness, or great and long continued sufter
mg. This is an error. A cup of tea or coffee will
supply the needed tonic when a sense of exhaus-
I tion is felt, and we have the authority of an emi
nent physician for stating that no constitutional
injury will be suffered from immediate and total
abstinence. The uncomfortable feelings will sub
side in forty-eight hours, and will be entirely over
in a fortnight. Any man who has firm resolution
can break himself at once of the degrading and
fatal habit of drinking.
LADIES* OLIO.
*- * *• “O, great mystery of love !
! In which absorbed, loss, anguish, treason’s self
Enlarges rapture, —as a pebble, dropt
! In some full wine-cup, over-brims the wine ! -i
i While we two sate together, leaned that night
j So close, my very garments crept and thrilled
1 With strange electric life; and both my cheeks
Grew red, then, pale, with touches from my hair
In which his breath was; while the golden moon
j Was hung before our faces as the badge
Os some sublime inherited despair,
I Since ever to be seen by only one—
| A voice sad, low and rapid as a sigh,
| Yet breaking, I felt conscious, from a smile—
| ‘Thank God, who made me blind to make me see !
Shine on, Aurora, dearest light of souls,
Which rul’st for evermore both day and night !
I I am happy.’ ”
“Women know
The way to rear up children (to be just),
They know a simple, merry, tender knack
Os tying sashes, fitting baby-9hoes,
And stringing pretty words that make no 9ense,
And kissing full sense into empty words ;
Which things are corals to cut life upon,
Although such trifles ; children learn by such
Love’s holy earnest in a pretty play.
And get not over-early solemnized—
But .seeing as in a rose-bush Love’s Divine
Which burns and hurts not—not a single bloom,
Become aware and unafraid of Love.
Such good do mothers—”
Influence of the Smile in Giving Beauty of
Expression.— A beautiful smile is to the female
countenance what the sunbeam is to a landscape.
It embellishes an inferior face and redeems an
ugly one. A smile, however, should not become
habitual; insipidity is the result; nor should the
mourn break into a smile on one side, the other
remaining passive and unmoved, for this imparts
an air of deceit and grotesqueness to the face. A
disagreeable smile distorts the line of beauty, and
is more repulsive th in a frown. There are'many
kinds of smiles, each having a distinctive charac
ter—some announce goodness and sweetness—
others betray sarcasm, bitterness and pride—
some soften the countenance by their languishing
tenderness—others brighten it by their brilliant
and spiritual vivacity. Gazing and poring before
a mirror cannot aid in acquiring beautiful smiles
half so well as to turn the gaze inward, to watch
that the heart keeps unsullied from the reflection
of evil, and illuminated and beautified by sweet
thoughts..
An ancient Hindoo sage, whose name is so ab
surd that we shall not risk the mention of it, has
left on record, in one of the many thousand scrip
tures of his race, his own deliberate conviction,
that “all the wisdom of the Nedas, and all that
lias been written in books, is to be found con
cealed in the heart of a woman.” All the world
has secretly agreed with the Hindoo sage; and,
had there* been no women on the earth, there
would certainly have been no books written worth
the readiug.
There were women in ancient Greece who
wrote like women, or, at least, like Grecian wo
men in mediaeval Italy who wrote as became the
countrywomen and the friends of a Petrarch or
an Angelo. There have been women in every
age who wrote the most delightful possible letters,
and journals, and diaries ; putting tlieir personal
histories, feelings, or fancies into that inimitably
felicitous female dialect which, in every language
moves as nimbly, as a woman’s wit, and charms
as subtly as her smile. But, througli all the
range of history, we look in vain for any class of
female authors, originally powerful, unquestion
ably excellent, and, at the same time, distinct
ively feminine, until we come down to our own
days. If the “ large utterance of the early gods”
is hushed among us now, we may have the conso
lation of knowing that we have been the first to
hear the silvery speech of the goddesses. Since
the times of Madame de Stael, who, to be sure,
was not much of a goddess, and still less of a wo
man, and who did her best to make a man of her
self, but of whom it must be always borne in
mind, that she fell upon evil days, when every
body had been suddenly emancipated, and no
body was really free—since the times of Madame
de Stael in France, and of Mary Woolstonecraft
in England, think how charming, how many mov
ing things have been said to us in that silvery
goddess-speech!
Pent in her poor secluded home, among the
Yorkshire hills, the slight, hard-favored daugh
ter of the English parish priest had to struggle
with womanly instincts as warm, and with a
thirst of love as keen as the instincts that were
outraged, and the thirst that was not quenched
in the spirit of the granddaughter of Marshal
Saxe. But all this vivid, passionate life, these
instincts repressed by fate, this thirst ungratified,
never wrought upon Charlotte Bronte any unwo
manly change of nature ; dimmed the delicacy
of her perceptions; never chilled her deeper in
ward sympathies. When you read “Jane Eyre,”
or “Shirley,” or “ Villette,” you feel that you are
standing face to face with a woman who has seen
a thousand illusions vanish without losing her
faith in the realities which survive all illusion—a
woman too clear-sighted to be sentimental, but
too sincere to scoff.
Where the Canary Birds Come From.— There
is an association in Philadelphia, composed of
about thirty Germans, who aim at improving the
breed of Canary birds; and last month they pub
lished their annual report. From that it appears
that the bird sales of Philadelphia are confined
to Germans and amount to $40,000 annually, and
three quarters of that are canaries. The common
or original canary is of the least value, and sell at
about $2 apiece; the improved kinds bring from
$8 to $lO apiece, and are from Central Europe.
Th® great majority of these birds were obtained
from Belgium, where they are bred in houses by
the peasants, who raise them as a pastime. They
are what are called ‘long’ and short breeds. Birds
of the long breed are procured from Brussels, An
twerp and Dietz, where they sometimes obtain
extravagant prices. Their cost depends upon
the color and shape, the pure golden yellow be
ing the most esteemed. They are only used for
the purpose of breeding, and oftentimes sell for
S3O a’ pair. The short breed is raised by the peo
ple of the Hartz mountains. Next to the Bel
gian the French bird is most prized.
The late General Havelock.— This General,
whose decease in India has been so much lamented,
was not only a soldier, but a preacher. He wtjs
a member of the Baptist church in Calcutta, and
is said by the missionary Kincaid, who knew him
well, to have been a devoted Christian. He was
accustomed to carry witli him a preaching tent,
in which to exercise his personal gifts as a preacher
of the gospel. His influence was great and good
in the army. Lord Gough used to rely upon
his brigade for the most difficult and dangerous
work ; and at one time, when required to send
forward a force on particularly perilous and im
portant enterprise, calling for great care as well
as courage, is said to have exclaimed, “Turn out
the saints ; Havelock never blunders, and his
men never get drunk.”— Boston Journal.
—
An Oriental Funeral in Paris. —The funeral
of the Queen of Oude, who recently died in Paris,
was a rare spectacle for the pageant-loving popu
lation of that great metropolis, and the crowd of
curious spectators was so great that it was almost
impossible for the procession to move along, and
it became necessary to close the boulevards to all
other purposes until theceremony was completed.
An observer of the novel exhibition states that
the coffin—almost square, and covered witli a
superb cashmere—was placed on a hearse, draped
with white silk and drawn by six milk-white led
horses. On each side walked persons of the late
Queen’s suite, clad in violet silk robes with pointed
caps or bonnets on their heads. Two domestics
followed in strange, motley, garments, after whom
walked the son of the deceased, in a blue mantle
of ample dimensions, who on his head the “ sem
blance of a kingly crown did wear,” a very strange
ornament, considering the scene being enacted
in his native dominions. Behind came a com
plete throng of Indians, enveloped in gorgeous
silks and cashmeres of every hue, and presenting
a singular appearanee in the streets, surrounded
by a darkly clad mob of European capital. Pre-!
vious to interment, the ceremony of embalming
the body was performed by the Queen’s atten- !
dants, in the court-yard of the hotel where they
lodged. No incisions were made but aromatic
substances and perfumes were copiously intro
duced through the mouth ear and nostrils, and
the corpse was profusely anointed with odorifer
ous oils and essences. It was then wrappod in i
bands of fine muslin and covered with a cloth of j
gold, while fires were kept constantly burning all
around it until it was removed.
On hearing Ike read that eighteen rams were j
to be Used in launching the Leviathan Mrs. Par-1
tington remarked that she believed a few yokes
; of oxen would do a great deal better than rams.
FARMER’S COLUMnB
COIWJW JEB Cl AL.
SAVANNAH, March B.— Cotton.— The mark*
day was brisk, and prices have ijflprovcd from 9|
; cent since the reception oltha jSiiroga’s pons on!
urdav. Sales foot up 1155 bales, at from lo| to flfl
Receipts yesterday 2t84 bales.
CHARLESTON, March 6.— Cotton.—'There >!
very active demand for this article to-day, which!
freelv met by holders at the prices of Friday, ardßH
wards of 3,600 bales changed hands. The Skies nmß
classed as follows, viz: 162 bales at 10; 370 at 10i|!
at 11 ; 33 at lli; 331 at 111; 32 at 111; 73 at lli; ■
at 11 £ ; 486 at 113; 913 at Hi; and 400 bales at 12<H
AUGUSTA, March 9.— Cotton.— Sales yester!
afternoon, 356 bples: 5 at 10, 88 at 10?, 67 t 11,
at lli, 53 at 111, 33 at lli cents. - ,!
Sales this morning, 1310 bales: 5 at 91, 3 at 10,
10i, 4 at 101, 50 at 101, 24 at 10.?, 363 at 11, 16 at Hi, !
at 11±, 90 ai 11s, 393 at 111, 52 at llg, 26 at .111, and*
at 12 cents.
Augusta Prices Current.’ I
WHOLESALE PRICES.
BACON.—Hams, ll* @
Canvassed Hams, 19 ft 13 C3>
Shoulders, ft 9 © !
Western Sides, ft 101 @
Clear Sides, Tenn., ft Hi © !
Ribbed Sides, ft 11 © !
Hog Round, new, 19 ft 10i © !
FLOUR.—Country - bbl 450 ( 6
Tennessee Irt bbl 475 @5 !
City Mills 19 bbl 550 @7 M
Etowah 19 bbl 500 @7 59
Denmead’s ‘"''l9 bHj 500 @7 Ofl
Extra bbl 700 ©7 59
GRAIN.—Corn in sack 19 bush 60 © 69
Wheat, white 19 bush 1 10 @1 19
Red ft ft 95 © 1 Ofl
Oats 19 bush 45 © 59
Rye 19 bush 70 @ 79
Peas 19 bush 75 (0 89
Corn Meal bush 70 (a) 79
IRON.—Swedes 19 8) 5i © 39
English, Common, 19 ft 31 ©
“ Refined, 19 lb 3? © -9
LARD.— 19 ft 10 @ 19
MOLASSES.—Cuba 19 gal 26 @ 2S|
St. Croix ‘{9 gal 40
Sugar House Syrup 19 gal 42 (0 49
Chinese Syrup 19 gal 40 .(a;
SUGARS—N. Orleans sft .’ 7i @
Porto Rico 19 ft - 8i @
.Muscovado 19 ft 8 © 8|
Refined C 19 lb 10 (0 1|
Refined B 19 lb 10£ @ ll
Refined A ft 11 @ 111
Powdered ft 12 © ll
Crushed V, 1b 12 @ ll
SALT.— $ sack 90 @ 1 isl
COFFEE.—Rio 19 > >l2 © 12l
Laguira 19 ft 13 @ ll
Java 19 ft 18 © ‘!
i ‘Heaves in Houses. —Take equal parts of lamp!
black and ginger, mix well, and give a table!
spoonful once or twice a day. This is a sure remed!
for the heaves, and it is also excellent for cough!
and colds in horses.
Farm Life.
Education is by no means confined to school™
These are but rudimentary and auxiliary to tha!
training whieh is begun in the cradle and fn!
ished only at death. The nursery day’s of oitf- lift!
and its business pursuits, have an importan!
bearing upon the formation of character. Whal
a min does, as well as what he studies in books!
educates him.” The scenes amid which his boyfl
hood is passed, out of schools, the objects whielß
occupy bis thoughts, the problems he daily solvel
in earning his bread, quite as much shape charfl
acter as the scenes and problems of the school
room. Agriculture is the largest and most iml
portant of ali our material interests, the occupal
tion to which the largest portion of our country!
men are born. J t is ama tter of interest to conside!
the bearings of this pursuit upon the character!
of those who are engaged in it.
There are those who consider this a menial
occupation—degrading to the body by the toil i!
imposes, and belittling to the mind by the attei!
tion it requires to the minute details of its bus!
iness. They regard its implements as the
of servility, and look with disdain upon the plovfl
boy’s lot. They deprecate the influence of fan!
life upon the social and mental culture, and loo!
upon the rustic man as the type of boorish ness an!
ignorance. They think it mainly a business fcH
brute muscles, where mind can achieve no cor!
quests, and where skillful labor finds a poor r<!
ward. They think the way of a man of genius !
inevitably hedged upon the farm—that t here is n!
heroic work to be performed, no laurels to b!
won. If he would do deeds worthy of his maifl
hood, gain wealth, gain honor, make himself I
name that will live, he must turn to nobler ooctH
pations.
If those who are strangers to the farm alorH
cherished this view, we could abide it in
But when farmers themselves amid this impe&dH
ment of their calling, and the pestilence of tI,H
heresy finds its way to our firesides, and makes oiH
sons and daughters discontented with their
homes, it is time to speak out. If comparison!
must be made, which are invidious, the shadow!
shall not fall upon the farmer’s lot. It is tirnefl
that other callings were stripped of that romance*
with which they are veiled, and that the sonsofl
the farm should know what they have in pros-1
pect when they turn their backs upon the home!
of their youth. It is meet that they should betl
ter understand the blessings of their lot, its cal
pacity for improvement, and its superiority t(l
all other occupations. We would arrest tha!
feeling of disquiet which keeps so large a portio!
of our rural population perpetually longing fdH
new fields of enterprise. We would have thei!
settled, at least a portion of them, in the parislH
and bend all tlieir energies to the improvement
and adornment of their homes.
Rev. Wm. Clift. I
Salt. —There are few articles, perhaps, of
value to the agriculturist, than salt. As an iit
gradient in compost, it is of great service and oj!
erates with an influence upon the soil, which cat
be produced by no other stimulant, either
ral or vegetable. As to top dressing for grat
lands—especially those of a loamy texture—it t
invaluable. Mixed with wood ashes, in the pr<t
portion of one bushel ot ralt to three of ashet
and five of lime, it constitutes a very energetit
manure for Indian corn—producing an early
vigorous germination of the seed, and acting at
efficient protection against the ravages of the vst
rious insectiverous, enemies by which the
plants are too frequently infested and destroyed!
During the many years in which I have used tht
article. 1 have never known it to fail of product
ing the most important and marked results-!
whether applied as a top dressing on lands
grass or grain, as a stimulant for corn, or as a!
Eabuluiu, for the support of pivoting crops, i!
ave also used it with good success on various!
kinds of fruit trees—plums, pears, cherries, ap-!
pies, peaches and quinces. Every farmer shouldl
make a liberal use of it, particularly in compound-B
ing manures.
Splendid Apple-Pie MEi.oNs.-The famous Apple-B
Pie Melons as they are called, and which havefl
excited considerable interest among the lovers I
of good apple pies, from the fact that this melon I
makes good apple pies will prove a great blessing I
to all good housewives, for they can now have I
apple pies all the year round, and not be obliged I
to pay a dollar, or even two bits a piece, for they I
can make their apple pies without apples. We
onjv assert what is easily proved—this variety of
melons will make pies that nine persons out of
ten will pronounce apple pies. Two years sinde
we had two of these melons presented us by
.Tames Lick, Esq., of ISanta Clara. The pies we
ate from these melons at various times satisfied
us of the facts stated. One of those melons we
now have in perfect order, weighing 45 pounds.
Thus we have a valuable proof of their keeping
qualities. The present week, when at Santa Clara,
we were again presented with two melons of the
same species of greater weight, .each oV er 50
pounds. —Caliofornia Fam.er
~ <ii a
To Make Biscuit.—Take one quart of flour;
half a teaspoonful of salt; the size of a turkey’s
egg of fresh butter, and work up with new milk
to a proper consistency ; then work and beat with
the side of an eight pound flat-iron until blisters
ayise in the dough ; then make and shape your
biscuit with the hand and bake with a slow fire
until done through. They will be white, light
! and spongy; but if rolled outlwith a. rolling-pin
and cut with a knife, they will bercrisp, but not
so spongy. If sweet lard, the size otf a■ hen s egg,
and cold water is used, instead ol the butter and
new milk, they, will be found excellent, perhaps
better, and will keep sound a month in hot or
1 consider buiscuit made in either of the above
ways the only buiscuit fit to be brought on a
white man’s table. Soda and grease, or safer actus
and grease will make a soap, and should never be
used; unless the intention is to make a soap
kettle of a human stomach. Get a dressed pop
lar plank four inches thick and inches
square to beat your dough on. , ;
Como, Mlss.li&B.—South. Cult. Mecklenbubo.