Newspaper Page Text
. iITEBABY
Ipip’ance Cnuiadcr.
PENPIELD, GEORGIA.
L. LINCOLN VEAZEY, . , . Editor.
THURSDAY MORNING MARCH W, 10587
We are now having some very pleasant, spring
like weather. The last was the first fair Monday
we have had this year. , ,
Some friend has favored us with a copy of the
constitution and rules of order of the Young
Men’s Christian Association, of Augusta. The
object of this and similar associations, (which we
are glad to know are being formed in all our ci
ties and large towns,) is to promote the moral and
religious welfare of young men, and cherish
among them a feeling of Christian fellowship.
Formed as they are, of all Protestant denomina
tions, they are eminently calculated to destroy
that sectarian bigotry which is so fatal in its re
sults—so disgracefuljn its manifestations. We
hope the communities in which these associations
have been formed, will encourage and sustain
them, not permitting the flame of zeal by which
they have been established to die out or grow
less. •
We observe in some of our exchanges, accounts
of very extensive revivals of religion in various
portions of the country. In the city of New
York and its vicinity, it is supposed that as many
us fifty thousand persons have been converted.
There was never a time, when it was more neces
sary that a religion, whose leading feature is peace
on earth and good will to men, should exert a
controlling influence in the hearts of the people.
We have fallen upon evil times, and it requires
all the power of true religion to counteract the
bad influences which are continually at work.
Blackwood’s Magazine for March, contains several j
papers of interest, among \vhich we would notice J
particularly, “ People I have never met.” Price, j
53,00; Blackwood and any of the reviews, $5,00: j
Blackwood and all, SIO,OO.
This would be a far better world than it is, if
men would exercise the same leniency in judging
of the conduct of others as of themselves. Tins,
the true spirit of charity and the gospel law re
quires. But it is a rule from which men depart*
very widely in practice. Wo possess microscopic
powess when beholding the faults of others, but
our own become “ small by degrees and beauti
fully less,” the longer we contemplate them.
Arthur’s Magazine, 7'e(rrson’s Magazine, the3lason
i<: Signet A Journal, the American Medical, Gazette and
the Cbicbrnnlli Crusader, are the periodicals which
we find on our table the present week. A multi
tude of other duties has prevented our giving
them more than a hurried glance, and of course
precludes the possibility of a more extended no
tice.
On oca outside will be found a nice little article
from the pen of our associate, Mrs. Bryan, for
which we need not bespeak a reading by the fe
male portion of our readers. She is eminently
correct, we apprehend, in adopting Die opinion of
Dr. Johnson, that the married and unmarried
states are abstractly considered equally happy.
Bachelor as we are, and always expect to he, wo
still believe there is, to some, a bliss in matrimo
ny, and acknowledge that there are numerous
ills attendant on single blessedness. We often
sit by our fireside and commune with silence, un
til it seems that the shriek of a teething child
would be a relief; but when “tired nature's
sweet restorer” courts our eyelids, and in “sleep,
serene oblivion laid, we safely pass the silent
night,” we feel content that no prattling cherub
salutes our waking ear. When returning from
our day’s toil, the greetings of “ a sweetly smi
ling” might lift a weight from the heart, ant? a
cloud from the brow.” An hour after, we feel
thankful that no violation of decorum will bring
upon us the noisy clamors of an angry spouse.
On the whole, ire prefer “to bear the ills we have,
than fly to others that we know not of.”
For all the other ills of life, there is some penod
to which the soul looks forward with hope of re
lief. But if a couple make an unhappy marriage,
there is no healing herb or medicinal gum that
can prove a balm to their suffering hearts. They
must submit, and feed in silence, the corroding
sore that is surely eating away their life’s bloom.
The error once committed, cannot be retrieved;
and there is no release from this torturing rack
of the soul, until death do them part. There is
no resource save in the disgrace of divorce or the
horrors of suicide.
There are some strange patrons of a newspaper.
One will always meet the editor with a com
pliment, tell him of the sound, practical sense
which characterized some article from his pen,
the hearty laugh which he enjoyed over some an
ecdote or jest which he lately published, and ap
plauds the general management of his sheet. The
poor man thanks Heaven for giving him such a
subscriber, when, on consulting the ledger, he
finds arrearages for two or three years against his
name. The kind-hearted subscriber, no doubt,
meant to discharge his indebtedness by well
turned compliments and words of praise.
Another takes a paper, pays for it punctually,
(this class is small) and never reads it. He may,
now and then, look over the advertisements, or
the obituary and marriage notices; but of that
portion of the paper which constitutes its essen
tial character, he remains in profound ignorance.
If he wishes to make a remittance by mail, he
will, perhaps, direct his letter to a man who lias
retired from office for years. To him, the news
paper is not a thing of life, proceeding from the
*■ mind of an individual and expressive of his opin
ions, but amerc piece of machinery, which through
the medium of letters has the power of convey
ing to him certain ideas.
Another takes it into his licad, that every word
and sentence is composed and written by the ed
itor himself, and hence, concludes that he must
be one of the smartest, wittiest, most knowing
fellows alive. His yiext door neighbor, however,
quite reverses this decision, and votes him a lazy
dog who does nothing but rake up the trash that
is floating on the sea of newspaperdom. Borne
subscribe for a paper, and never take the trouble
to go to the office after it, while others will take
and read it for years, and then have the mean
ness to deny ever having subscribed. In a word,
the number of those who take, read, pay for, and
duly appreciate a newspaper, is lamentably few.
The question of levying a tax on dogs in Now
“York appears to be attracting considerable
attention. It is estimated that there are half a
million dogs in that State, which are maintained
at an expense of fieo millions of dollars.
They should bo taxed everywhere, especially
ins our towns and villages* llalf-<vdozcn dogs
upon every lot, which are of no earthly use but to
keep up a continual barking and howling, are as
great pests as can possibly be conceived. For a
good dog a man could afford to pay a tax; for a
mean one he would not. Hence a general tax
would be a sure relief from the dog nuisance. i
*0 * *
“ The apparel oft proclaim* the man;”
There is a moral in dress, though it is a fact
which, in Words, many are •’
j .Persons dress neatly, elegantly or gorgeously as a
i matter of taste or inclination, without consider
j ing that in so doing they are affording to every ob
| server a clue to their inner character. Such,
! however,*is Die cose. A man’s actions are of
I course the most infallible index of his principles.
| Next comes the expression and cast of his coun
| tenance; and the third in rank, is the style and
manner of his dress. From the latter, some
traits may be learned at a glance, which it would
require an extended acquaintance to ascertain
from either of the others. It is thus that the
clown, the gentleman or the dandy are recog
nised anywhere in a moment, merely by the man
ner in which he is clad.
Theoretically, we esteem a man as highly in
tattered garments as when clothed in purple and
fine linen; but in practice, we do not. We belie
our own sentiments, when we give utterance to
any such expressions. When we meet a man on
the side-walk in rags and filth, with dirty face
and uncombed locks, we pass him in scorn as an
embodioment of vileness and degradation. His
face may be shaped in nature’s most handsome
mold, the light of intelligence may beam forth
from his eye and benevolence mark his every
lineament; yet, all these will be passed unnoticed.
His garb has excited a prejudice which it would
require a most thorough knowledge of sterling
worth to overcome.
“ The mind is the measure of the man,” is an
oft quoted remark; and perhaps notwithstand
ing all complaints to the contrary, the world ap
2>eals sufficiently to this standard in its estimate
of men. We err oftener in worshipping genius’
too much than not enough.’ Many other ele
ments besides mind are necessary for the forma
tion of a perfect man; and if these be wanting,
mere intellect is a barren possession. It should
not atone for a single fault, for it possesses the
power of increasing every fault thirty, fifty or a
hundred fold. Want of decency in dress is a
fault it can extenuate with none, however great
may be their admiration. We might tolerate a
Johnson or Sidney Smith in a shirt whose ac
quaintance with the laundress was of ancient
date, a collar set awry, a coat and vest bespat
tered with tobacco juice and every garment the
worse tor wear and tear; but these mean habili
ments will certainly detract largely from our ad
miration of their mental greatness.
Men, almost without a single exception, wor
ship wealth, even when joined with the darkest
vices; yet, is it powerless to expiate carelessness
or indecency in dress. In such cases, the known
ability to dress well increases the severity of the
censure. A filthy rich man may be treated with
deference on account of the influence which his
wealth gives him, but it is impossible that this
respect can be really sincere. It is related of a
certain Spanish King, that from habitual indo
lence lie would occasionally pass weeks and even
months without shaving, washing or changing his
clothes. He became a mere cipher in his king
dom and palace. Ilis name stands over a num
ber of years in the history of Spain, but what he
did may be summed up in a sow acts of folly,
and would not till a half-a-dozen pages. Weak
ness of intellect rendered him incapable of any
great action, but his slovenly habits were more
the cause of the contempt with which he was
treated than his imbecility. Here were power,
rank and wealth all conjoined; yet, they could
not save the dirty king from the detestation of
his subject's.
We manifest this regard for dross not only in
men, but likewise in animals. The caterpillar
which we loathe to touch becomes an object of
admiration when arrayed in the gorgeous attire
of the butterfly. The beautifully.painted rattle
snake charms our sense of vision despite its death
dealing fangs. In domestic animals; a knowledge
of their usefulness overcomes all the prejudice
which uncomeliness of appearance may create.
But if all other tilings were equal, every one
would prefer the peacock to the goose, or the
tiger to the hog.
AVo have spofeen hitherto of slovenliness in
dress. There is, however, as much impropriety
in adopting the opposite error. This is by far
the more common fault. Extravagance in dress
lias been for ages a matter for ridicule and satire,
which, though liberally bestowed, has been thus
far spent in vain. A large, perhaps the larger
portion of individual wealth, is expended in the
gratification of this passion; yet, they do not al
ways attain the end aimed at in this. Many who
seek admiration by tlie splendor of their apparel,
display a want of taste and refinement which
renders them disgusting. A man’s dress ex
presses the qualities of his head and heart; but it
is neither the richness or plainness of the mate
rial which does tliis. It may be purple and fine
linen or the coarse fabrics of the domestic loom;
yet, if they be clean, neat and in good taste, they
will, so far as their significance extends, bespeak
the gentleman. The counsel of Polonius to La
ertes is, upon this as upon many other points, the
best that can be given :
“ Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy—rich—not gaudy.”
That a man’s name should exert any influence
on his character or affect his destiny, may seem
a strange idea; yet, we are of the opinion that no
mere accident of our lives is productive of more
important consequences. When we hear a name
for the first time, we almost invariably form some
notion of the person who bears it, and sometimes
descend even to such minute points as the size
and personal appearance. What guide have we
in these efforts of the imagination ? Nothing but
the simple name. Yet, by this sometimes posi
tive opinions arc formed, which it requires time
and strong influences to change. There are par
ticular junctures in the lives of every one at which
these first impressions may be to his prejudice or
advantage. AVho can suppose that Cromwell,
Washington, Napoleon or Bernadotte would ever
have attained their. positions of eminence with
names that carried with them some lidiculous
idea?
We have often expressed these views privately,
and have almost as often had them derided as
absurd. It will be seen, however, by the follow
ing from the Home Journal, that there is one at
least who endorses our opinion;
“ The question is often asked, ‘ What’s in a
name?’ More, we reply, than many people im
agine ; and if we arc not quite original in this re
mark it is perhaps none tho worse for that. A
taking name often sells large editions of a stupid
book, before the public find out tho cheat. A so
norous, euphonious, aristocratic, romantic, poetic,
noble, or even what young Indies would call a
pretty name possessors a magnetic influence, not
unlike that exercised by a prepossessing coun
tenance. Wo exalt its owner in our imaginations
.without having seen him, and picture him as a
man of noble presence and honorable character.
80, on tho othqr hand, are wo not sometimes
sensiblo of entertaining a vague antipathy against
men whom we have never seen, and of whom we
know scarcely anything, merely (if we are honest
enough to trace the aversion to its source) be
cause their names seem to us ridiculous, con
temptible, or belittling? There are some names
which are perfect sinkers to a man’s ambition.
He might as well attempt to walk the clouds
with a ton of old iron on his back, as try to make
himself famous and honored with such an incubus
of a name crushing Kim to tho earth. Mr. Puke
might be born a poet, but the world would spew
him out of its mouth, though the repressed fires
of a divine inspiration were consuming his soul.
Nobody will believe Mr. Slaughter to be a perfectly
harmless fellow, even though he join the Peace
Society. We have no special antipathy to Mr.
Hood, the positire: we can even endure his*com- j
] placent neighbor, Mr. (JroodenoUgh, the compar- j
| ative ; but we never could ri 1 ourselves of the idea j
I that there was a taint of hypocrisy about Mr. Too
i good, the superlative of the Goodfamily. although
| we read a very flattering obituary notice of him,
1 on the occasion of his death, a few years since.
l When a man does achieve an honorable position
j in the world, in spite of an unfortunate name,
j we may be sure that the true metal is in him.
• It is very evident that Mr. Doolittle, in working
his way upward to the United States Senate, had
to-do a great deal more than would have been
necessary if his name had been something else.
AVho can think without admiration of the heroic
struggles which Senator Pugh must Lave passed
through successfully in reaching the same high
station, borne down as he was by a name, which
is the very synonymefor contempt ? And surely
it was no ordinary exercise of perseverancisagainst
obstacles and discouragement which carried into
the lower bramffi of the present Congress a ple
beian John Dick, a Foley, a Cockerill !”
CLIPPED ITEMS.
A line may be remembered when a Chapter is forgotten.
Gross Plagiarism.— ln one of Alexd’r. Smith’s
“City Poems” occurs the expression
“ A sigh and a curse together.”
Mr. “Punch” says that it was evidently cab
baged from Sir AValter Scott, who said in record
ing the death of a charger,
“ And draws his last sob by the side ofhis dam.”
*’ Please, sir, I don’t think Mr. Dosim takes his
physic reg’lar,” said a doctor’s boy to his em
ployer. ‘Why so?”—“’Cause vy, lie’s getting
veil so precious fast!”
A convention of the artists of the United States
has been called at AVashington City. They are
expected to meet on the 20th March.
The seventh volume of Brancroft’s History of
the .United States is now passing through the
press.
A bill preventing the intermarriage of first cou
sins has been passed by the Legislature of Ken
tucky.
A Train or a carpet rag. —Mr. Makeweight
has gone into the country. AVe asked him
whether he was going to take the eleven o’clock
a. m. train, or the three r. sr. boat. “Neither,”
he replied; “I am only going to take a carpet
bag.”
John Horsely Palmer, one of England’s most
eminent merchants and bankers, died at his
country residence at Burlingham, (near London,)
on the 17th ult., at the age of seventy-eight years.
He was for many years Governor of the Bank ,of
England, and held also high positions in other in
stitutions.
The wife of M. D. Fetner, of Fairfield District,
S. C., was burned to death recently by the acci
dental ignition of her clothing as she stood on a
chair winding a clock on a mantlepioce. She had
been married only a few weeks.
Young ladies should not wear hundred dollar
silk <lresscs, five hundred dollar shawls, and fifty
dollar handkereheifs, when their fathers arc play
ing two per cent a month for horn-owed money,
and the dread of bankruptcy haunts them day
and night. Wives will do well to think of these
things with reference to their husbands.
Sincerity does not’ consist in speaking your
mind on all occasions, but in doing it when si
lence would be censurable and falsehood inexcus
able.
A gentleman asked a lady, the other day, why
so many tall gentlemen were bachelors. The re
ply was, that they were obliged to lie cornerwise
in tlie bed to keep their feet in, and that a wife
would be in the way.
Mere parsimony is noteconomy. Expense, and
great expense, may be an essential part in true
oconomy. Economy is a distributive virtue, and
consists not in saving, but in selection. Parsimo
ny requires no providence, no sagacity, no powers
of combination, no comparison, no judgment.—
Mere instinct, and that not an instinct of the
noblest kind, may produce this false economy
in perfection.— Burke.
The governor of Pennsylvania has sent a re
quisition to the governor of Ohio, for the delivery
up) of Mr. Porter, the $50,000 defaulting secretary
of the American Sunday School Union.
In England, three copies of each newspaper
printed, signed by tlie publisher, must be regu
larly transmitted to the stamp office, which pays
full price for them. After the expiration of a
year, one complete file of every journal is trans
mitted to the British Museum, where they are
bound in volumes and preserved for reference.
The Sumpter Republican says “ a collision oc
curred in our city on Tuesday last, between Maj.
Ellis and his sou, Jas. Ellis, on the one side, and
Jas. T. Holeman, on the other, in which all the
parties were seriously injured.” The parties are
all intemperate.
It was a judicious resolution of a father, when,
being asked what he intended to do with his girls,
he replied, “ I intend to apprentice them to their
excellent Mother, that they may learn the art of
improving time, and be fitted to become wives,
mothers, heads of families, ami useful members of
society.’-’
Os all the evils in the world there is none more
insidious and mischievous than foolish pride.
It turns traitor to itself and is the executioner of
its own follies. Strict watch should be kept upon
it, or it will creep even into holy places, deceiv
ing others with tinseled show.
Hypocrisy knows its own character best, and
sometimes may be detected with one hand prut
ting “ a penny in the urn of poverty,” whilst
with the other it is “taking a shilling out.”
It is difficult to say which is tlie greater defect
in a parent—strictness and firmness in his family
without feeling and affection or feeling and aff
fection without strictness and firmness. Under
the one bad system, the children are apt to be
come slaves of hypocrites ; under the other,
tyrants or rebels. But true love is always firm,
and true firmness is always love.
Hall’s Journal of Health is responsible for the,
following: “ AVe have often gone to hear Aboli
tion ‘stars’ lecture—masculine, feminine, and
neuter; but never saw so much spontaneous glad
ness in the face of the whole of them, as may be
witnessed in any half-hour on the Levee, at New
Orleans, among the negroes wlxo are loading and
unloading the cotton beats.
The N. 0. Delta states that Die slave trade is
in fact re-opened, and that cargoes of slaves have
arrived and been sold at a depot on Pearl Fiver.
The slaves use the French flag.
The citizens of Columbus, Ga., voted a few days
since upon the question of a connection of the S.
AV. Railroad with Mobile and Girard road. The
advocates of the connection triumphed by a ma
jority of 250.
AVar between Brazil and Paraguay's now con
sidered very probabl?. In view of this disturb
ance, Paraguay will be in a rather bad condition
to resist the demands of the United States for the
outrage to the AA r ater Witch, and the offences
committed against our countrymen.
The Army and Navy of Savin.— The Spanish
population is 17,000,000. The army numbers 160,-
000 men, tlie light regiments armed with Minnie
rifles, and the artillery being one of the finest in
the world. The navy is as follows: Two line of
battle ships, 170 guns; 4 steam frigates, 14 guns ;
1 steam brig, 2 piivot guns; 8 steam schooners,
16 piivot guns ; 4 frigates, 183 guns; 2 corvettes
54 guns; 19 brigs, 156 guns; 5 schooners, 17 guns;
3 side-wheel steamers, 68 guns ; 29 ditto, 168 guns;
and nine store-ships, 28guns; besides gun boats
and the usual small craft belonging to a large
fleet. Tho foreign commerce of Spain amounted
in 1853 to $114,156,240.
The love of ornament creeps slowly, but surely,
into the female heart. A girl who twines the
lilly in her tresses, and looks at herself in the
clear stream, will soon wish that the lily were
fadeless, and the stream a mirror. AVe say, let
the young girl seek to adorn her beauty, if she
be taught also to adorn her mind and heart, that
she may have wisdom to direct her love of orna
ment in due moderation
CHOICE SKI,FICTIONS.
inw—rr>i n ‘ A Happy Calamity. - ‘
“ I have lost my whole fortune,” said a mer
chant, as he returned one evening to his home;
“we can no longer keep our carriage.” We must
leave this large house. The children can no lon
ger go to expensive schools. Yesterday I was a
rich man; to-day there is nothing I can call my
own.”
“ Dear husband,” said the wife, “we arc still
rich in each other and in our children. Money
may pass away, but God has given us a better
treasure in those active hands and loving hearts.”
“Dear father,” said the children, “do not look
so sad: we will help you to get a living.”
“ What can you do, poor things?” said he.'*’
“You shall see! you shall see!” answered sev
eral voices. “ Its a pitty if we have been to
school for nc thing. How can the father of eight
children be poor? AVe shall work, and make you
rich again.”
“ I shall help,” said the younger girl, hardly
four years old. “ I will not have any new thing's
bought, and I shall sell my great doll.”
The heart of the husband and father, whick
had sunk within his bosom like a stone, was lifted
up. The sweet enthusiasm of the scene cheered
him, and his nightly prayer was like the song of
pjraise.
They left their stately house. The servants j
were dismissed. Pictures and plate, rich carpets
and furniture, were sold ; and she who had been
the mistress of the mansion shed no tears.
“Pay every debt,” said she; “let no one suffer
through us, and be happy.”
He rented a neat cottage and a small piiece of
ground, a few miles from the city. A\ T ith the aid
of his sons, lie cultivated vegetables for the mar
ket. He viewed, with delight and astonishment,
the economy of his wife, nurtured as she had been
in wealth, and the efficiency which his daughters
soon acquired under her training.
The eldest one instructed in the household,
and also assisted the.younger children; besides,*
they executed various works, which they had
learned as accomplishments, but which they
found could be disposed of to advantage. They
embroidered with taste some of the ornamental
parts of female apparel, which were readily sold
to a merchant in the city.
They cultivated flowers, sent bouquets to mar
ket in the cart that conveyed the vegetables; they
plaited straw, they painted maps, they executed
plain needlework. Every one was at her post,
busy and cheerful. The little cottage was like a
bee-hive.
“Pnever enjoyed such health before,” said the
father.
“ And I was never so happy before,” said the
mother.
“We never knew how many things we could
do, when we lived in the great house,” said the
children, “ and we love each other a great deal
better here. You call us your little bees.”
“Yes,” replied the father, “and you make just
such honey as my heart likes to feed on.”
Economy, as well as industry, was strictly ob
sevved; nothing was wasted; nothing unneces
sary was purchased. The eldest daughter be
came assistant teacher in a distinguished female
seminary, and the second took her place as in
structress to the family.
“AVe are now thriving, and prosperous,” said
he; “shall we return to the city?”
• “Oh, no!” was tlie unanimous reply.
“Let us remain,” said the wife, “where we have !
found health and contentment.”
“Father,” said the youngest, “all we children !
hope you are not going to be rich again; for then,” !
she added, “we little ones were shut up in tlie 1
nursery, and did not see much of you or mother.
Now wo all live together, and sister, who loves us, I
teaches s, and we learn to be industrious and
useful. AA r o were none of ns happy when we were j
rich, and did not work. 80, father, please not j
be rich any more.”
A Tale of Scotland.
A piarty of troopers entered the house of a widow,
and demanded and received refreshment. A weii
grown lad, the widow’s son, waited upon them—
the widow hospitably offering to tlieir wants all
she had to command.
“ And how do you live in these troublous times,
Goody ?” asked one of the mercenaries with an
air of kindness.
“ AVell, I thank Heaven,” answered the pioov
widow, “ my good man left me a cow and a garden
with that bit of field: Ido not complain.”
“ Indeed !” ejaculated the ruffian. “ Corporal
Spiedgelt, what say you to try if Heaven helps her
without a cow?”
“ Ach ! mein Gott! der garten is enoof! Mit it
zome verlaclien—ha! ha !”and tho fellow laughed.
“Kill der schuchtern imehen, (the cow,) and
spoil ter milch and ter kase, (cheese!)”
“ Ay,” quoth the fellow, with a hoarse laugh;
“ and so it will. *so, Goody, here goes with the
honors of war—ta-ra 1” and lie drew his sword.
“ AVhat are you going to do ?” cried the youth,
springing forward, with tears in his eyes and terror
in his face.
“ Strike the brat, Bob,” said the trooper, as one
smote the boy on the mouth, while the trooper
passed his sword through the gentle breast of the
generous home-feeder—tho poor cow —and to add
to this devil’s dßsd, mowed down all the kale in
tlie garden. The troopers then departed. .
AVidow and ehild were at once destitute of
every source of existence. She soon sickened and
died, heart-broken, and the boy wandered away,
and was not seen nor heard of for many a year
after.
During the wars in Flanders, a party of soldiers
were one afternoon seated round a campfire, and
flushed with wine and victorty, were relating some
deed of the piast, till they seemed to take a turn
in vying with each other for the atrocity of their
detalis.
“ I once starved an old dame by merry Carlisle,”
said a trooper, noted for his ferocity and courage.
“ I killed her, her cow, and, egad! destoyed her
greens. She said Heaven would keep her, and
faith ! I longed to know a miracle; but she died
—ha! lia ! she died!”
“ And do you not repent of that deed?” cried
a young trooper, leaping to his feet, with wrath
ful brows.
“ Repent ? Bali!—what the devil should I
repent for?” asked the other, contemptuously.
“ Sit down, and laugh at the joke.”
“Do you stand up, you marauding dog!”
shouted the soldier; “for, in the name of that
Heaven she trusted in, you shall repent it!
That woman was my mother!”—and, unsheathing
his sword, he struck the ruffian-soldier on the
cheek with his flat, and instantly swords were
crossed.
Twice—thrice did the avenging son pass his
sword through the body of the destroyer of tlie
poor widow’s living; and turning him over with
liis foot, as the other lay writhing in the piangs of
death, added, “Hadyou but repented that deed,
I had left you to God; but as you repented not
know that Heaven avenges her in me!”
The Day of Temptation and Victory.
“The rain drops come fast, and the wind sounds
mournfully enough. I don’t think we shalll ever
see sunshine again,” said John Manley, as he gat
shivering in the corner. “I am sure it would be
a blessed thing to have one single stick of neigh
bor Farwell’s wood.”
The room was dark and gloomy. An old table
was placed near the bed, and was covered with
the scanty remains of a scanty dinner, Now and
then a little girl stole noiselessly upi to a broken
plate and silently ate the parings of some cold
potatoes, which had been given them the day be
fore ; and then taking a bone which she had for a
third time replaced upon the table, because she
had eaten from it all that could be eaten, she sat
down close to her brother, and laying her cheek
upion liis knee, prut it again to her mouth, while
the tears filled her eyes.
“These are hard times my poor little sister.
Now which would you rather have, a good dinner
or a warm firo ?”
“ I should rather have a warm five, for I feel
very cold.”
A low moan wfts heard from the bed, and John
started from his stool, and bending over it, said,
“ Mother, do you feel better?” “No John, not
much.” Poor Mrs. Manle/ had been long suf
fering from severe rheumatism, which had been
greatly increased during the last few damp and
chilly days. “ AVhere is George ?” she asked, as
she raised her head, and looked around the
room.
” He went out,” replied John, “ to ask neigh
bor Farwell for a few sticks of wood.”
Mrs. Manley shook her head, for she well
knew how unavailing would bo such a request,
“ 0 Mother,” said John, “ hero are two as stout
hands as ever boy had, and I am ‘eleven years
old to-morrow. If any body would ornploy me,
I”
He was here interrupted by a noise on the
stairs, and presently the door oponed, and George
Manley, with his arms full of wood, hastily en
tered. His cheeks were flushed, and there was
an anxious expression upon his countenance.
Rethrew the wood upon the hearth, and then,
standing erect, and looking round on the
ished group, he exclaimed, “ What do you think
of that ?” , ~
“ Why, 0 said John, “J, for one, am glad to see
“And I, too,” said little Mary, “for I am al
most frozen.” ‘ .
“ George, did neighbor Farwell give you that
wood?” asked Mrs. Manley. “No, mother, I
went to him, and he said he couldn’t aftord to
give to folks that laid abed and did'nt work. I
told him you was sick, and he said it was very
convenient to be sick, in cold weather, for the
bed was generally the warmest place.”
Mrs. Manley sighed heavily, and asked//* where,
then, did you get that wood ?” “ Why, mother,
as I passed his wood-house, I saw the gate open,
and a great pile of wood close by. I knew the
cross old fellow was out of the way, for he was
shaving, and I said to myself, my poor mother is
sick, and we shall all freeze to death;’ and so I
picked up a few chips that were outside of the
gate, and those great sticks I took from off the
pile. But, mother, I'll tell you what it is; It’s
dreadful hard to steal, and I had rather work my fingers
to the bone than to do it again.”
Mrs. Manley raised herself on her elbow, and
with a look of intense and bitter sorrow gazed on
her son ; then laying her head again upon her
pillow, she burst into tears. The children sur
rounded the bed ; but they spoke not. At last,
wiping the large tears from her cheek with the
sleeve of her coarse and well patched night-gown
she turned her eyes again on George. There was
deep feeling in her tone as she said, “ My son it is
the will of God that we should suffer; but he has
said, “ Thou shalt not steal.” That wood must be re
turned. I would rather see my children starve
and freeze, than to see them break any of God’s
commandments. Now take it all, every stick
and carry it back.”
“ Oh, mother,” said George, “ I don’t dare to.”
“I’ll go with you,” said little Mary, “ I'm sure
1 a’nt afraid.”
“ But what if neighbor Farwell sees me ?”
“ Tell him, my son, that you took his wood,
and have come to return it, and ask his forgive
ness.”
“It is a cold afternoon, mother, and my feet
ache—and my fingers feel like icicles.”
“Never mind, George, God will provide for
those that do right. He will never forsake those
that put their trust in him.”
“ John, should you dare to go ?” asked George
as he began to collect the chips.
“ I should’nt dare to go to sleep if I didn’t;
and I am sure, George, you will never be happy
till you do.”
“I will help you carry them,” said Mary,
“and if neighbor Farwell asks you what you
stole for, I will tell him this verse: *lf ye forgive
not men their trespasses, neither will your hea
venly Father forgive you.”
HE’S CO.IIING.
The following, clipped from the Louisville
Journal, is about as sweet a little thing of the
kind as we have ever seen:
He’s coming the blushing rose
Whispers it low tome,
And the starlight hastens with it,
Over the twilight sea.
All trembling the zephyrs tell me,
On the light winds hurrying past,
Andmy own heart quickly beating,
Coming, coming, at last!
The soft-lipped waves of the ocean,
Gathering at my feet,
Breezc-bornc from the coral island,
Murmur the secret sweet.
Thcrc’snot adow steeped blossom,
Or glistening orange tree,
But. furnish its leaves glee-laden
To breathe this joy to me. J
List ! that is the sound of coming
Stealing along the air.
I must gather round my temples
This weight of braided hair,
And trust to growing darkness,
And evening shadows dim,
To hide with their wings the traces
Os tears I’ve shed for him.
Female Autobiooraphists.— The few femaleau
tobiographists who have graced the literature of
England were confined to the stirring times of
the Commonwealth, when the pressure of circum
stances, by acting upon the strongest and finest
feelings of woman, developed her intellect, and
forced her upon active, and even perilous exist
ence. The two most brilliant instances of this
charming genre of egotism arc to be found in the
memoirs of tho fantastic Duchess of Newcastle,
and in those of the heroic Mrs. Hutchinson, both
admirable illustrations of their respective classes
at the epoch in which they flourished ; the one
of the pure, unmixed aristocracy of England, and
the other of its gentry, or highest grade of mid
dle life.
Eterxilv. — “Eternity has no grey hairs!” The
flowers fade, the heart withers, man grows old
anil dies; but time writes no wrinkles on the
brow of eternity.
Eternity! Stupendous thought! The ever pres
ent, undecaying and undying, the endles chain,
composing the life of God, the golden thread,
entwining the destinies of tho universe.
Earth has its beauties, but time shrouds them
for the grave; its honors, they are but the sun
shino of an hour ; its palaces, they are but as the
gilded sepulchre; its possessions, they arc the
toys of changing fortune ; its pleasures, they are
bursting bubbles. Not so in the untried bourne.
In the dwelling of the Almighty can come no
footsteps of decay. Its day will know no dark
ness; eternal pleasure forbids the approach of
night. Its fountains will never fail—they are
fresh from the eternal throne, its glory will never
wane, for there is the ever-present God. Its liar- j
monies will never cease —exhaustless love supplies j
the song.
LIFE.
Life is no speculative adventure with those that
feel its value and duties. It has a deeper pur
pose, and its path becomes distinct and easy in
proportion as it is earnestly and faithfully pur
sued. The rudest or the most refined pursuit, if
adapted to the wants and capacities of the pur
suer, has a truth, a beauty and a satisfaction. All
ships on the ocean are not steamers or packets,
but all freight-hearers, fitted to their tasks, and
the smallest shallop nobly fulfils its mission,
whilst it pushes on towards its destined port, nor
shifts its course because ships career to other
points of the compass. Let man ride himself on
the ocean of Time. Let him learn whether he is
by nature a shallop or a ship; a coaster or an
ocean steamer; and then, freighting himself ac
cording to his capacity and the market he should
seek, fling his sail to tho breeze, riding with wind
and tide, If they go his course, but heating firmly
against them if they cross his path.
The California Pine.
So much has been said of the gigantic growth
of the California pine, that a citizen of that State
suggests to the New York Post the feasibility of
domesticating it in the Atlantic States. As an
inducement, ho has left at the office of the Post,
a package of the seeds of five varieties of the finest
California pines, of which he gives the annexed
description:
No. 1. Punts Bcnthamktna. A tall tree from 150
to 180 feet high, and from G to 8 feet in diameter.
Sierra Nevada. Elevation 4000 to 5000 feet.
No. 2. Phm. Ijambcrtiana. A tall tree, 160 to
200 feet high, and Gto 8 feet in diameter. Sierra
Nevada, 5000 to 6000 feet.
No. 8. Pimts Jeffrey*. A tall tree, 120 to 150 feet
high, and from 4 to 6 feet in diameter. Sierra
Nevada. 0000 to 8000 feet.
No. 4. Pinus Moniicda. A moderate sized tree,
100 to 120 feet high, and 2 to 4 feet in diameter.
Sierra Nevada. GOO feet.
As all these aro found in the Carolina moun
tains in high altitudes, the Post’s correspondent
has no doubt they will grow here, as Scotland is
now covered with the progeny of a single larch
that was taken there from Norway. In order to
extend the movement the subjoined offer is made:
“ The gentleman to whom this letter is ad
dressed, and who is well known to us, animated
by a desire’ to have these pines generally culti
vated, has authorized us to say that any person
enclosing $1 to box 3,342 Post Office, as an evi
dence of a disposition on his part to make use of
the seeds, will be furnished with a package ; the
money thus received to be contributed to some
usoful public charity. A package will also be
sent to such papers published in Boston and Phil
adelphia a3 will give currency to this notice and
send a marked copy of their paper, addressed as
above.”
We consider this experiment as eminently wor
thy of trial. The mamoth trees of California may
become a national pride.
COJIIttEBCIAI. $ y w
Augusta, Tuesday, March 16,P. M*-COT T Oi
Sales yesterdav afternoon,-154 hales: .> at .a, Oat ,
42 at 11,8 at lii, 93 at 111, 3at 12 cents. ~ ‘ •
Sales this morning, 1156 i#ee: Inr 8, 9 .\ 1a1 ‘
3 at 101; sat 10i, 9 at lOf, ISO at 11, 244 tit lib 2U at
111, 36 at 113, 191 at 111, 99 at 1H,20 a* Hi, m.at. 12
cents. - . -
Charleston, March 13.—COTTON.-Thetraaeac
tions to-day, reached upwards of 1,800 Mca, at fu
prices, and embrace the subjoined figures,
101, 6 at 102, 50 at 111, 53 11 5-16, 212 at Hi, 082
103 at 111, 453 at Hi, 79 at 1& and 239 bales at 12.
Augusta Prices Current,
WHOLESALE TRICES. - r. . -~Wf
BACON.—Hams, T* > W @
; Canvassed Hams, ¥ p ®
Shoulders. ¥> * J®
Western Sides, If* p no
Clear Sides, Tenn., “ ¥ > @
Ribbed Sides, ¥> ® ™
Hog Round, new, lb © if
FLOUR.—Country ¥bM 450 g'6JD
Tennessee %* bbl 47j @
Citv Mills ¥ bbl 550 @7 50
Etowah 5 bbl 500 @7 50
Denmcad’s ~¥ bbl SGO 7.W
<j3 bbl /99 @7 50
GRAIN.—Corn in sack ¥ bu|h 65 @75
Wheat, white ¥ bush 1 10 @ J L
; Red lb 95 @1 oo
Oats ¥ bush 45 @
Rve ¥ bush 70 @ 73
Peas ¥ bnsh 7.) @ 85
Coin Meal ¥ bush 70 @ 75
IRON.— Swedes ¥lb 5i @ 5 i
English, Common, %* h> @ t
“ Refined. &lb 3y @
LARD.— ¥lb 10 <s> 11
MOLASSES.—Cuba ft gal 36 @. 38
St. Croix ‘f* gal 40
Sugar House Syrup ¥ gal 42 @ 45
Chinese Syrup 7"* £ a l 40 @’ 50
SUGARS.—N. Orleans ¥ 7i @ 9
Porto Rico • ¥ } b 81 @ 9
Muscovado lb 8 @ 8£
Refined C lb 10 @ 11
Refined B ¥ • 101 @ 11
Refined A it* lb H @ 111
Powdered lb 12 @ 13
Crushed lb ‘ 12 @ 13
SALT.— ¥ sack 90 ©1 00
COFFEE.—Rio ¥ lb 12 @ 12}
Laguira fl> 13 @ 14
Java ¥ 18 @ 20
Scientific Facts.
There are 5 pounds of pure sulphur in every
100 pounds of wool.
Carrots consume 197 pounds of lime to the
acre; turnips but 97 pounds.
A cubic foot of common arable land will hold
40 pounds of water.
It takes 5 pounds of corn to form 1 of beef,
and 3 1-2 pounds of cooked meal to form l of
pork.
To add 1 per cent of lime to a soil fit at is des
titute of it, requires 10 pounds of slacked, or 0 of
caustic lime to the acre.
Clay will permanently improve any soil that is
sandy or leacliy. Lime and leached ashes will
benefit leachy land.
A ton of dry forest leaves produces only 500
pounds of mold; hence 500 pounds of mold will
produce a ton of plants.
Clay applied to sandy land is far better than
sand to clay land: 100 tons to the acre will give I
inch in depth.
Rnre phosphorus is worth from §4,000 to $,5000
a ton ; and as it comes from the earth it shows
how scarce it is.
Use or Hen Manure. —I have been in the
habit of using hen manure, applied in the hill, on
corn fora number of years with excellent success.
I take my hen manure to a convenient place, (say
a barn floor,) and pulverise it thoroughly, then
mix two-sixths ashes and one-sixth plaster, with
an equal proportion of the manure in bulk of
both ashes and plaster. After preparing my
ground by spreading (say) twenty-five cart loads
of stable or other good manure on the turf, and
ploughing it under, I mark out my ground with
out either harrowing or bushing, and then drop
one gill of llio above mixture in each hill, either
plantingmy corn close beside, or kickingon a lit
tle dirt with my foot over the mixture, and plant
ing directly on it. I row both ways, three and
one-half feet. In this way I have succeeded in getj
ting fine crops. I generally use about fifteen
bushels of hen manure mixture to the acre; but
if I used no other manure to carry out the crop,
I would certainly use at least forty bushels of tlio
same. I think most farmers miss it, in running
over too much ground to get a bushel of cofn,
when by manuring heavily they get in the same
grain on less ground, and make a saving in labor,
and leave the soil in a better state for stocking
down.
Agricultural Truth. —The following state
ments will be found correct as to the soil under
cultivation:
1. All lands on which clover or the grasses are
grown, must either havo lime in them naturally,
or that mineral must be artificially applied in the
form of stone, lime or marl.
2. All permanent improvement of lands must
look to lime as its basis.
3. Lands which have been long in culture will
be benefit ted by the application of phosphate of
lime, and it is unimportant whether deficiency bo
applied in the form of bone dust, guano, nativo
phosphate of lime, compost of flesh, ashes, oys
ter shell lime, or marl, if the land need lime
alone.
4. No lands can be preserved in a high state
of fertility unless clover and the grasses are cul
tivated in the course of rotation^
The Farmers Creed.— One of our exchanges
gives the following first rate advice under the
heading of “ The Farmer’s Creed:”
“We believe in small farms and thorough cul
tivation. The soil loves to eat as well as its own
ers, and therefore ought to be nurtured. We be
lieve in large crops, which leave the land better
than they found it—making both the farm and
farmer rich at once. We believe in going to the
botton of things, and therefore in deep plough
ing and enough of it—all the betterif with a sub
soil plough. We believe that the best fertility of
any soil is the spirit of industry, enterprise and
intelligence—without this, lime and gypsom,
bones and green manure, marl or plaster, will
be of little use. We believe in a clean kitchen,
a neat wife in it, a spinning piano, a clean cup
board, dairy and conscience. We firmly disbe
lieve in farmers that will not improve; in farms
that grow poor every year; in starved cattle ; a
farmer’s boys turning into clerks and merchants;
in farmer’s daughters unwilling to work; and in
all farmers who are ashamed of their vocation,”
To Preserve Hams.
“ Oh. friendly to the best pursuits of man,
Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,
Domestic life, in rural pleasures passed! ’
Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets •
Though many boast thy favors, and affect ’
To understand and choose thee for their own.”
[Cowper.
I have a few leisure moments at my command
to-night, which I do not know how to emplov
better than to supply you with a few facts as to
the best method of preserving that most delicious
of esculents, a good ham. The hogs should be
allowed to hang one night on the poles. In this
way they become thoroughly cold, and cut out
much smoother than when that operation is per
formed previous to their becoming stiff. Who
is it that does not like to see a well trimmed*”
ham ? After it is sprinkled with salt it should be
scattered until the next morning, in order to have
as much of the blood extracted as possible; then
LfoTi + be ’ Vellr r U )h f , with sprinkling a
half of a teaspoon ml of saltpetre overtlio fleshv
side of each ham, and packed; after remaining
thus for six weeks, it should be hung, and at tho
expiration of three months it should betaken
down. The midUjigs may be packed in hogs
heads as tight as possible, ami the hams aid
shoulders should be packed in cotton seed a]
tematc layers of hams and seed. I u smoking. it
is saul by throwing China berries on tho fire, tfiey
will prevent skippers. y
tho above plan I succeed admirably when
pork is killed at almost any time during the wiu-
To those who are fond of pretty good hams
fwi,W°nH and - aVOld th ? P r °g pn y of prolific dams',
Thn if r yo M hon to keep in cotton seed
a5 J r y 0t ® ll “PPrehcnsion be freed ’ -
And have hams, nice and sweet,
Whenever you feel disposed to cat.
About the first of October the hams should
taken out a packed to
me rw, j m .