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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.