Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Iterance Crusader. -i PENFIELD, GEORGIA. _ j THURSDAY’ MORNING, -APRIL 1, 1658. j New Advertisements* teffal Sales, &c. Read under ihe head, “New Business.” this week, , on first side, various important County sales, &c. &c. \V. R. Hunter. Our friend Hunter, the “fchildrens’ friend,” has “turned up” again, (as Mr. Mkawber would sav,) and his numerous friends will find in this issue some inter esting jottings tff his-travels. We are happy to hear from him again. our Bachelor Editor • hinder* Rubbed. Our poor old bachelor associate, whose muse sings on the opposite page, having taken occasion in an issue or two preceding the present, to speak discourngingly oi matrimony, “teething children,” &c. a fatr lady of superior mind end literary attainments, under the nom deplume, “Little Dorrit,” “strings” his honor upon a pole and “ sorter ” takes the bark off him. Qldafield School in Georgia Thirty 1 ears ago. Wc cannot forbear giving space in our columns to the spicy, natural and ucll written story of an “ Old-fiold School in Georgia thirty years ago,” which we com mence publishing this week, and will conclude in the succeeding number. W T e learn that it was written by a native Georgian, and we would be happy to learn his name. It is well told and will interest all classes of readers. Marching to the Penitentiary. The last Superior Court of Sumter county sent three delegates to the Penitentiary, viz : Ivey, ior forgery, sentenced to eight years imprisonment; another for stealing a negro, was sent for six years, and Avery for assault with intent to kill, sent for seven years. Putnam Court sent two, viz: Rainey alias Buckhal ter, arraigned for horse stealing, was sent for five years. Pool, fpr negro stealing, was sent for seven years to the same institution. The Sparta Georgian of the ult. says : “ A ne t;ro woman belonging to Prof. Sasnett was brought to jail last week undercharge of attempting to poison the overseer, Mr. Hartwell Scott and his wife. Our in formant states that each of them drank a sip of coffee in which such large quantities of blue stone had been in serted that they detected it instantly. The woman im plicates her husband as the instigator to the foul deed; he, however, has mnde his escape. ..Planters should be careful in using blue stone with their wheat, (now a common practice,) ns it affords evil-disposed slaves to get in their possession a virulent poison. This is not the first case that has occurred in tiiis county of a sim ilar character.” Don’t wear Dirty Clotlica. Every domestic wife likes to have her sheets, coun terpanes, bed-quilts, pillow-slips, table-cloths, towels and such like look clean and nice. She also delights in seeing her children and husband neatly clad; the fast coquette and the starchy dandy love to see their ‘ beau ideals and honnie lassies cleanly and tidy in their rig ging; and where is the man or woman, married or sin gle, who is not almost tempted to massacre their wash er-woman when their clothes are brought in, week after week, only half cleansed, and with buttons paddled into pieces ; or where is the house-keeper who does not hate to see her domestic fabrics rubbed and scrubbed full of holes? We earnestly commend all such toW. L. Al friend & Cos. of White Plains, in this county, who man ufacture and sell Brown’s Jlotary Washing Machine. This is the great desideratum, invented especially to accomplish the ends and to heal the family difficulties enumerated above. See their advertisement and relia able certificates on first page. Correspondence—Pliitip S. White. Springfield, S. C., Feb 10,18.58. To the Editor Charleston Courier : The inclosed interesting letter from Philip S. White, ns well as a previous correspondence with F. D. An derson, of Maryland, with the remarks of the editor of the Spirit of the Age, I desire you to publish in your widely circulating paper. They wiJI be giad tidings to many in your city, as well ns in other parts of the State. For Philip S. White was an early and devoted cham pion of temperance. Ho traveled and lectured much. In your city his unrivalled eloquence and wit was lis tened to by hundreds in 1852. I have had much opportunity to know White, and I believe him to merit the good wishes and welcome oi every friend of temperance in our broad land. His letters speak for themselves, and will touch a chord of sympathy in every generous heart. Your Friend, John Belton O’Neali,. Philadelphia, February 3d, 1858 Dear Sir :—Your kind letter of the 25th ult., is be fore me, and it seems to rebuke me for not having sooner answered it. It merits the imputation of a want of courtesy, yet I have an excuse to offer for it, which your generous heart will no doubt gladly accept. The too hasty action of the Division by which my connection with it was dissolved, so irritated me, that T determined never again to seek admission into the Order; and, no doubt, 1 would have executed my purpose had it not been for the interest which your letter conveys. I had tio sooner perused its contents than I repented of my determination, and resolved to resume the position from tvhich I had dispensed innumerable blessings, and by which I had myself been blessed. I hastened accordingly to my old Division—“ Hope Division”— that, under the aigis of its talismanic name, and in a placid haven of its bright sea of happy influences, I might east anchor and ride in safety for the remainder of my life. To await the gratification of this desire, which was consummated on last evening, is the excuse I offer you for not sooner replying to the expression of your generous sentiments. You desire mo to present your kind regards to my wife and daughter. To my daughter I have mentioned your civility; but, alas! my friend, to my wife that message can now only be borne by some winged mes senger of the spirit land. It was the long and weary vigils around her dying couch that led to that impair ment of my health, for which stimulants were recom mended; and, for the use of which, my Division no doubt, thought it right to strike my name from the roll of its members. Upon the occurrence of iliose two events, I became alike indifferent to the claims of the Order and the clamors of my enemies. ‘There is a de gree in misery which, when harshly dealt with, drives the victim oftener to rashness than to reason. Such at least was its effects on tne. But let that pass; used to abuse, I have grown patient under it. Reason, at all events, i; now in the ascendant—Memory seeks to drop a safe veil between the present and the past—Hope is pointing to an unerring future—and Philip is himself again. I deeply sympathize with you for the death of your excellent daughter. The extinguishment of “this light of your house” throws a peculiar gloom around your hearthstone, in as much as she was the only one to call you father; but she has left behind her eight lesser lights, who by imitating a mother’s virtues, will no doubt irradiate that gloom, and bring that wonted halo o! jov—partially at least—back lo heart and home. Death, under any circumstances, is a sad visitor to the family circle, for whatever may be the preparation for his approach on the part of the relatives of the object of Ins visit, an indescribable desolation of the heart will arrest his presence, and nn agonized memory willawait upon his departure. I speak experimentally, for how deeply I have thus felt for like ravages upon my own household, my heart only can describe. Had I more of that Christian philosophy for which you are so emi fiently distinguished, I might feel less acutely such an infliction. But my nature has not been sufficiently turned that way—reason, with her cold finger, points it out but the melting heart will not profit by this lesson. One might suppose that these afflictions were severe enough, yet my enemies as if to pile Pelion upon Ossa, are seeking in many of the Southern prints, to wound more deeply still. I am charged by them with hav ing been rescued from drunkenness by the temperance reform, and with having fallen back into the fataUbyss agdin. I need not say to you that such attacks are as ungenerous as they are untrue are as I never was a drunkard in my life-never could be one. My whole mental economy revolts against the vice, and my physical constitution forbids it ° tome that my own beloved South, where I expect Tet to live and die, has been the theatre of all the VetfiSr against my career of benevolence. Well, but let that i!£ |- Though greatly mortified by il, I have bmei” lence enough to overlook and forgive it. Write me soon, and fail not to place me foremost among your friends and admirers. Yours, &c.. Philip S. AViiite Hon. John Belton O’Neali. To a Drunken Husband. I loved thee with a love untold, And when I stood beside Thy noble form, I joyed to think I was thy chosen bride. They told me, ere I was thine own, How sad my lot would be; I thought not of the future, then- — I only thought of thee. I do not blame thee for thy lot, I only pray for thee; That thou tnaye’st from the tempter’* power— P> joyful thought! be free ; A hat thou mayc r st bend above my grave, With penitence sincere, A i d . f °ln h ® br ° ken ‘Ported one Let fall a sober tear. , An Old Field School in Georgia, Thirty Year* ago. FIVE CHAPTERS OF A HISTORY —BY PHILEMON PERCH. CHAPTER I. ‘‘Books!" —There is nothing at all terrible in this simple word. On the contrary, it is a most harmless word. It always suggests quiet and contemplation; and though is is true that books do often produce agita tions in the minds of men and in the state of society it self, sometimes even effecting great revolutions therein, yet, the simple enunciation of the word, it would seem, would never be adequate to the production of the smallest amount of excitement; and, as little would it appear in looking upon it from almost any point of view at which one could get oneself, to be capable of allaying excite ment, and causing instantaneously the most perfect stilness. I never could exactly tell why (I, Philemon Perch, who ant about to devote five chapters to the re cording of a few incidents which transpired one forenoon in a country school house, in Georgia, thirty yearsago,) I say, I never could tell exactly why it is, that, a9 often as as I have thought of the old custom in England of reading during the progress of a riot, the Riot Act, und began to wonder how in the name of common sense, it could quell a riot, my mind has as often recurred at once to the scenes I am about to relate, and admitted, but re luetantly, that the reading of the act aforesaid might be about as proper a thing as could be done on such an oc casion—for there was one point of view, or rather a point of hearing, from which one could obrerve the last mentioned phenomenon, occasioned by tire enunciation of this word twice a day for five days in a Avcek. It was the word of command with which Mr. Israel. Mead ows was wont toannounce tothe pupilsof the Goosepond school house the opening of the school, morning and af ternoon. The Goosepond was situated in-one of tiie counties of Middle Georgia, on the edge of an old field, with origi nal oak and hickory woods on three sides, and on the other a dense pine thicket—through this latter there went a path, which led to theschool house, from a neigh boring planter’s house, where Mr. Meadows boarded. The school house itself was about one hundred and twenty yards from the edge of this thicket, at the place where the path emerged from it. On a cold, frosty morning, early in the month of De cember, in the year 1827, about twenty boys and girls were assembled, as usual, at the Goosepond, waiting for the master —some of both sexes conning their lessons and some playing—the boys at bullpen, the girls at jumping the rope—but all of them, with one exception, those playingnnd those studying—the latter though the most eagerly—watching the mouth of the path at which the master was expected. The studying were the most anxious. The players seemed to think the game worth the candle; though the rope jumpers jumped with their faces to the thicket, and when a boy was about to throw a ball, lie would run to the corner nearest the thicket, and looking behind him a moment, would turn his face and instantly throw in the opposite direction. The students they walked to and fro before the school-house door, all studying aloud, and apparently exhibiting the very greatest anxiety to transfer the secrets of knowledge which tlicir book contained to their little heads. There wasone boy in particular, whose eagerness for the acqui sition of knowledge seemed toamount to the most violent passion. He was a raw-boned boy, of fifteen years, with very light hair, and a freckelod face. He wore a round about, and pants of worn, walnut-dyed, homespun cloth ragged sealskin cap, and red, coarse brogans, without socks. He had come up, after nearly all the others had gotten there—he lived three miles and a half from the school house, and walked the way back and forth every day. He came up shivering and studying, and perform ing both of these apparently inconsistent operations with great violence. “ Hallow, Brinkley,” shouted half a dozen boys. “Got in in time this morning, eh?—ha! ha! Why, you are too soon, my boy—he won't be here for a quarter of ahouryit. Come and help us out with the bull-pen. Now, look at him, won’t you? Got that eternaljogra phy, and actly a studyin’it, an’he nigh an’ in about friz. Put the book down, and go an’ warm yourself a bit; and come and take Bill Jones’ place, it’s his day to make fires. Come we’ve got the inses.” This last was addressed by the “one exception” be fore alluded to —a large, well-grown, square shouldered boy, eighteen years old, named Allen Thigpen. But Brinkly Glisson paid no attention tothe invitation, but came on up shivering and studying, studying and shiv ering; and just as he passed Allen, announced the fol lowing proposition : “ A-an empire is a c-c-country g-g-governed by an e-emperor.” Now, ordinarily, the announcement of this proposition w'ould, one would think, be entirely incapable to excite any uncommon amount of risibility—it contains a sim ple truth, and expresses it in simple terms. And yet, so it was, that Mr. Allen Thigpen burst into a tremen dous roar of laughter; and, as if he understood that the proposition had been submitted to him for ratification or denial answered : “ Well, Brinkly, ’spozin’ it is. Who in the dickens said it weren’t? 1 didn’t. Did you, Sain Pate?” “Do what?” said Sam, pausing in the act of throw ing the ball. *• Did you say that a empire wan’t a—what Brinkly said it was?” “ A what Brinkly said it was!” “ A empire.” “I didn’t hear what Brinkley said it was.” Allen strode up behind Brinkly, and, looking over his shoulder, said slowly: “ A country governed by an Em peror.” “No, I never said nothin’ about it, nor I don’t kur nothin about it, neither,” and away went the ball; but Sam had thrown it too suddenly, after looking towards the mouth of the path, and he missed his man. Allen laughed exceedingly at this effort at humor, but Brinkley did not even notice the interruption; he walked to and fro, and shivered and studied, he bowed to the book, he dug into it, he grated his teeth, not in anger, but in the eagerness to git what was in it, ns he called it; he tried to fasten it in his head, whether or no by slightly changing the words and making them, as it were, his own to command. “ An-yempirc,” said lie fiercely, but not over loudly, “is a ke-untry, ge-uverned by an y-vemperor.” “And what is a y-yemperor,Brinkly,” asked Allen, and lie laughed again. “ Oh, Alien, please go way and let me alone. I most had it, and you’ve put me out, and if I don’t know it, you know Mr. Meadows will beat me. You know he loves to beat tne anyhow. Now let me alone; it jist sorter begins to come to me now, and I could git it,’ and lie went on shivering and studying, and shiveringly announcing, among other tilings, that “an y-yempirc was a kc-untry gc-uvcrncd by an y-vemperor,” etn pasizing each one of the pollysylables in their turn ; sometimes statingthc proposition slowlyand cautiously, and rather interrogatively, as if hall inclined to doubt it; at others, asserting it with a vehemence which showed it to be his settled conviction that it was true, and that whoever doubted it, it was plain, did not know anything at all about the subject. Allen Thigpen looked at him with a half-pitying, half-ludicrous expression of face,and turning front him went up to where a rosy cheeked little fellow of eight years was sitting on a stump with a spelling book in his lap, and with a pin in his right hand, spelling and dot ting every fourth word, after reciting the following : “Betsy AViggins, “ Heneritter Bangs, “Mandy Grizzle, “ Mine, (dot) A a, 1-i-g-h-t, light—alight. “ Betsy Wiggins. “ Heneritter Bangs, “ Mandy Grizzle, “Mine, (dot) D-c,dc 1-i-g-h-t, de-light,” and so on. Allen laughed again. I, yi, my little Mr. Asa, and ’spos’n Betsy Wiggins misses her word, ur Heneritter Bangs hern, and Mandv Grizzle hern, then who’s goin to spell’em'? I want, to know. And what’ll you give me.” continued Allen, placing his rough hand with ironical fondness on the child’s head, “what’ll you give me, not to tell Mr, Meadows that you’ve been a gittin’ your own words ?” “Oil, Allen, now please don’t.” “ What’ll you give me ?” “ Twenty chesnuts;” and the little fellow dived into his pockets, and counting out twenty, handed them to Allen. “Gotany more?” asked Mr. Thigpen, cracking one with his teeth. “Oh, Allen, please don’t take ’em all.” “Out with ’em, you little word-gittcr.” Asa disgorged to the last one. Allen ate one or two, looking quizzically in the child’s face, and then handed them back to him. “ Take your Acsnuts, Asa Boatright, and eat ’em. If I ever git to be as feard of a human, as you and Brinkly Glisson is of lserl Meadows, drat my hide, if I don’t believe I would commit sooicide on myself—yes, on my self—by cutting my own throat.” “Yes,” answered Asa, “you can talk so? because you are a big boy, and you know he is afeard o’ you. 11 you was as little as me, you would be as feard o’ him as me. If lever git a man”—the little fellow was about to continue, whimpering, but suddenly checking himself, took his pin, and mumbling: “Betsy Wiggings, “ Heneritter Bangs, “Mandy Grizzle, Mine,” he resumed his interesting and ingenious occupation of dotting ever fourth word. Brinkly had overhead Allen’s taunt ; and closing his hook, after a pause of a few seconds, he walked straight up to him, and said: “Allen Thigpen, lam no more afeard of him than you arc, nor than lam o’ you. I aint wait’n’ to git a man, to pay him back for the beatinshe has giv me. Do you think that’s what makes me stand what I do, you nre tnich mistaken. Allen I’m a tryin,’ trying’ all thetime hard to keep down, on mother’s account ; I’vo ,told her of some o’ las treatment to me; and that I wouldn’t stand it, and she’s always a cryin’ and takin’ on about it, and tellin’ me she’s so anxious for me to git a edu cation, and that this is my ownly chance; and it do ■L U n *E b an in about kill her, if I was to 1 j * 1 ? vo becn a tr yin’ all I could to get the me , kce P fr°in fightin’ him when he beats fact i T * t cou ld get era if I had a chance. But the in thfs lL n ’T l ° n [ U u r ? n ? ugh in rea( J in ’ t 0 a been P ut to readntrht iia , s J ust P ut me in it before I learn raphv, ami leant jKjSFSgtX&J&P Si SS. pay yoUchesnu,s n °‘ to tell him I said so, neL “Hooraw,” shouted Allen , Brinkly.” In a lower tone ; “By^ jingo, I thought it was in you. I seen yon many a time, when I thinks T to myself “would’nt take Wh tomakeßrinkley Glisson fight you, old fellow.” Then, taking him a little way off, he wWred: “You’ve stood enough already, and too much too. My blood has biled many a time, when he s benten you; and I tell you, don’t stand it no longer. Es he beats you again, pitch in him; try to ride him from the ingwine; he can maul you, I ex pect, but look at this,” raising his first, of about the size of a mallet, “I’m here, and I’m some.” ) Brinkly looked at the big fist and brawny arm, and smiled dismally. “Books!’* shouted a voice,, and Mr. Israel Meadows emerged from the thicket, with a handful of hickorv switches. ‘ ! In an instant, there was an immediate rushin of boys and girls into the school-house-all, except Atlen, who took Bis time, Mnster Asa Boatright was the last togei in. t- He had changed his position, and was walk ing, book in hand, apparently all-absorbed in its contents, though his eye was on the mouth of the path of the ! schoolmaster, whose notice he was endeavoring to at tract. He walked, though with more rapidity than Al- j len, with less than the rest—book in hand, bowing, ; and digging, and diving into it, when he looked up and seeino- him, suddenly gave one more dive inio his book, j and darted into the school-hou.se. H lt was a rule in the Goosepond school, that the schol- ‘ ars should all be in and at their seats when Mr. Mead- 1 OW3 arrived. His wont was to shout “Books!” from the mouth ol the path, and to walk then with great ra pidity to the house. VVoc to the hoy or girl who was ever too late, unless it was Allen Thigpen., He had, some months before, been heard to say that, “ding any such rule; he did not intend to break his neck for Israel Meadows, nor nobody else,” and so was wont to take his time. If he got in behind the master, which seldom ; happened, that gentleman was kind enough not to no tice it, an illustration of an exception to the fine diseip- \ lino of schoolmasters, which was quite common in the generation in which Mr. Meadows lived and flour ished. On this occasion, when Mr Meadows saw Allen, knowing that thogait at which lie was walking would take him inside the school-house before Allen could get in, he halted a little, and taking a step or two, stooped down and having untied one of his shoe-strings he tied it again. While this operation was going on, Allen went in. Mr. Meadows, rising immediately, struck into a very brisk walk, as if to apologize for his delav, and then entered into and upon the scene of his daily triumphs. CHAPTER 11. Mr. Israel Meadows was a man about thirty-five or fort> years of ago, five feet ton inches in height, with a lean figure, dark complcxidh, very black grizzly hair and eyebrows, and of a most grim and forbidding ex pression of countenance. The occupation of training the youthful mind and leading it to the fountain ofwis” dom, ns delightful and interesting as it is, was not, in fact, Mr. Meadows’ choice, when, onarriving at man’s estate he looked around him for a career in which lie might probably develop and advance his being in life. Indeed, those who had been the witnesses of some of the incidents of his youth and young manhood, and of the opportunities hchad been favored withal of getting instruction himself were no little surprised when they heard that in the county of , their old acquaintance had undertaken, and was in the actual prosecution of the profession of a schoolmaster. About one hundred miles from the Goosepond, in a neighboring county, was the spot which had the honor of giving him birth. In a cottage on one of the public roads leading tothe city of Augusta, there lived a couple who cultivated a small farm, and traded with the wago ners! of those days by bartering for groceries and money, corn, fodder, potatoes, and such like commodities. It was a matter never fully accountable, how it was that Mr. Timothy Meadows, during all seasons, had corn to sell. Drought or drench affected his crib alike, that is, itdid’nt affect it all. When a wagoner wished to buy corn, Timothy Meadows generally, if not always, had a little to spare. People used to intimate sometimes that it was mighty curious that some folks could always have corn to sell, while other folks could’nt. These ob servations were made in reference to no individuals in particular, but they were generally made by one far mer to another, when, perchance, they had just ridden by Mr. Timothy Meadows’ house, having seen a wag oner’s teem feeding at his camp. To this respectable couple there had been born only one offspring, a daughter. Miss Clary Meadows had lived to the age of twenty-four and had never, within the knowledge of any of the neighbors, had the first beau. And, indeed, if to ihe fact that Mr. Timothy Meadows, her father, always having corn to sell with out his neighbors, ever knowing exactly how he came by it, had to a great extent discouraged visiting and neighboring between their families and his (though it must be owned, that was not the faith of the Meadows, who had, repeatedly, in spite of their superior fortune, shown dispositions to cultivate good neighborhood with al the families around) —if to this fact be added the fur ther one that Miss Clary was bony, and in no respect possessed of charms likely to captivate a young gentle man who had thoughts on marriage—it ought not to be very surprising that she had thus long foiled to secure a husband. But it is a remarkable thing in—whether physiology or psychology 1 really do not know which —how often not only the traits of character and the lineaments of form ot parents are inherited by their children, but even their very habits and ways, the good luck and bad luck of their lives. An instance ol this kind occurred in the life of Miss Clary Meadows. We have seen how that her father was wont always to have corn to sell, over and above what was necessary for the wants of his family, while, nobody ever knew how he got it. Sur prising as this was, and unaccountable, it was not the less surprising and unaccountable when it became gen erally known in the neighborhood that Miss Clary had a baby. And yet so it was, and in reference to this same baby, as how he got there, there has beta no more definite information —yea, even to this day—than as how three-fourths of the corn which Timothy Meadows sold found its way into his crib. Israel, the baby—another thing uncommon with chil dren—took the name of his mother. The class of chil dren of which he was an individual, are wont to have no names except such as they can acquire by reputation. Generally, society gives to the young the names of their fathers: and by good rights, Israel ought to have borne another name than Meadows, and doubtless he would have done so, if it had ever been possiblefor him to have found his father. But if lie ever went out upon that he failed in the prosecution of it; and so society, being no more successful than himself, pronounced him, in legal terms, nullius filius, which was asserting, in so many words, that he never had had a father, and con sidering and holding Miss Clary as entirely and solely responsible for his coming into this world, gave him her name after he got here. There were many interesting occurrences in the early life of Israel, which it would be foreign to the purposes of this history to relate. It is enough to say that he grew up under the eye and training of his grandfather, and soon showed that some of the traits of that gentle man, descending in the direct maternal line, were in no danger of being lost to society by a failure of reproduc tion. In process of time, Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Meadows were gathered to their fathers; and Miss Clary, yet un married, had become the proprietress of the cottage and the farm. Israel hnd the good luck of the Meadows, to be always able to sell corn to the wagoners. But un luckily, the secret of how this wonderful faculty existed which lay bidden in such profundity in the lifetime of Timothy, did about six months previously to the period when he is introduced to the reader, transpire—a cir cumstance which would induce one to suspect, that in spite of the declaration of the law, in such cases made and provided tothe contrary, that there was something in the blood of Israel which was not all Meadows. A company of neighbors on patrol, on one Saturday night, found a negro man issuing from the gate of Miss Mead ows’s yard, with an empty meal bag. Having appre hended him, they had given him not more than a dozen lashes with a cowhide, before he confessed that he had just carried a bagful of his master’s corn to Israel, and that without any order from his master. The company immediately aroused Israel, informed him of what the slave had confessed, and although he did most stoutly deny any and all manner of connection with the matter, they quietly informed him that they should not leave the premises until they could go and get a search-warrant from an adjoining magistrate, by which they could identify, as their spokesman said, the corn. This was a ruse to bring Israel to terms. Seeing his uneasiness they pushed on, and, in a careless manner, proposed that if he would leave the neighborhood by the next Monday morning, they would forbear to prosecute him for this, as well as for many similar offences, which they intimated that they had abundant proof to establish. Is rael was caught; lie reflected a few moments, and then, still asserting his innocence, but declaring that he did not wish to live in any community where he was sus pected of crime, he expressed his resolution to comply with their demand, and he left the next day. Leaving his mother,he setout to try his fortunes elsewhere; in tending, by the time she should lie able to dispose of the homestead, to remove with her to the West. But, de termining not to be idle in the meantime, after wander ing about for several days in search of employment, it occurred to him, suddenly, one night, after a day’s ride, that he would endeavor to get a school, for the balance of the year. Now, Israel’s education had been somewhat neglected. In fact, he had never been a day at school in his whole life. But he had at home, under the tuition ol'his mother been taught reading and writing, and a little of geogra phy, and his grandfather imparted to him some knowl edge oi figures. But Mr. Israel Meadows, although not a man of great learning, was a very great way off from being a fool, lie had a considerable amount of that wisdom of this world which comes to a man from many other sources besides books. He was a man like many others in one respect. He was not to be restrained from taking office by the consciousness of parts inadequate to the discharge ot its duties. This is a species of delicacy which, of all others, is attended by fewer practical results. The most it generally does, is to make its owner confess with mod esty his unfitness for office, with a “he had hoped that some worthier and better man had been chosen,” and then to lake it. Israel wisely reflected that with a ma jority of mankind, the only thing necessnry to establish for oneself a reputation of fitness for office, is to run for it and get into it. (A wise reflection, indeed, nnd acting on which, many men have become great, even in Georgia, and I doubt not in other places, with no other capital than the adroitness or the accident which placed them in office.) He reflected further, and as wisely as before, that the office of a schoolmaster in a country schoolhouse was as little likely as any other he could think of, to furnish an exception to the.rule. And so, in less than six weeks from the eventlul Saturday night, with a list of school articles which he had copied from another list he had picked up in his travels, he had ap plied for, and had obtained, and had opened the Goose pond, and was teaching the children reading and writ* mg at a dollar a month, and arithmetic and geography at tho advanced price of a dollar and u half. Thus much must suffice for his biography up to this morning. [to be concluded next week.] The name Teetotalism is said to have originated in the stammering of a speaker at a temperance meeting, who declared that nothing w'ould satisfy him butt-total abstinence. The audience eagerly caught up the pun, and the name was adopted by the champions of the cause. Wm* COMMUNICATIONS. In a late issue of the Crusader, one of its editors, pre suming upon his bachelor prerogatives,-lauded to the skies the felicities of single blessedness; this inveigher against the sublimated delights ol matrimony, is making merry over the woes of married men, in a manner cal culated to rouse the ire of every wedded lord and “ the noisy clamors of their angry spouses.’ Whilst exclaiming that “the shrieks of a teething child” would be a relief to his solitude—in the same breath rejoicing at his freedom from such thral dom. Does he reflect how often he afforded his mother this luxury, this exquisite enliveneT of solitude, hisown teething shrieks ? and how many species ofth o genus homo he has driven into the lone wilds of bachelordorn by the display of his swollen gums and the shrill cries issuing from between, sufficient to produce a re-action upon the tympanum of a deaf man’s ear ? Whenever I listen to a man speaking thus slightingly of the sacred sweets of wedded bliss, methinks he has solved the abstruse problem, “why Jack couldn't eat his supper;” and I would, in such a case, unhesita tingly insure “his expectations ol remaining a bachelor” until Death had recorded of him—Finis ! He reminds me of a caged bird ; no sooner does one of his own species draw near to his prison-house, thnn he mounts his loftiest perch with a flood of gushing mel ody—flits to his seed-box, picking up the tiny globules with the relish of an epicure, dipping his bill repeatedly and most enjoyingly into bis tiny crystal fountain; then up to his perch, swinging in his ring, again bursting out in joyous strains. And nil the while, should some curious hand hut open the cage, just to see if birdie was so happy as he apparently sremed in his contracted home, disdaining the very iden of freedom—why, before the door could swing to the utmost bounds of its hinges, the little prisoner would have emerged, and in “the twinkling of an eye,” an empty cage, alone, would be left to tell the tale of its former occupant. Likewise, did Mr. Veazey see a sweet maiden’slieart opened to receive him, staightway leaving the charnel house of his bachelor joys, filled with the memories of deceased hopes, he would take “ the wings of the morn ing and hnsten to roam at large in this eden of the affec tions, warbling such a song of freedom as to make “the shrieks of a teething child” but a muffled drum in com parison. Is he loth to barter away his freedom ? Why ‘tis the married man who is free! free to pour into the car of his sympathising better half, the trials, fears and woes of life’s conflict; to feel “sorrow remove at the touch of her gentle hand to brighten with her blessed companionship the shady walks of life, revelling with her in its sunbeams. Free ! to stretch himself mum this “ torturing rack ofhis soul,” her sweet smiles and endearing caresses— “ Oh! not one moment forjoy likethishasbachelcrdom.” But hasten I must, to pronounce an anathema Upon this musty, crusty old bachelor ! “ When tired nature’s sweet restorer Courts his eyelids to pleasant slumber,” May an army of women—a virago as controller— Meet round his bedside in ranks without number, Eeach bearing arms—say an infant just “ teething,” Which will kindle his wrath to a point about seething. Mauling with broomsticks, may these monsters of sin Round his bachelor ears create sucli a din, The roused cries of infants, so shrill and prolonged As to leave him to long for but six feet underground. Little Dorritt. ZT&'A correspondent from Thomas county reports himself in a wolul plight. We assure him of our hear tiest sympathy in his unprecedented chapter of misfor tunes. A neighbor of bis lately solicited a loan of fifty dollars, with which request he was unable to comply. The disappointed applicant went Itis way in high dudg eon, throwing out the ominous threat that “he would be even with him.” But we will let him tell the result in his own words : He didn’t shoot me—he didn’t challenge me to fight a duel with pistols, nor invite me to coffee and bowie knives. I wish he had been satisfied with such a rea sonable revenge, but he wasn’t, not he ; the blood thirsty, tiger-hearted, measureless villain, boldly and cruelly, calmly and deliberately, the conscienceless monster, sought revenge, and smiled as he sought it. What do you think he did ? He reported it about, up and down, far and near, that I— me, Amaziah M. Sniyke, was a literary ?nan! Well; what was the result? Since that ill-omened report, I have had no peace of my life. My sleep is broken and my dinner don’t agree with me; and daily, I pine and waste away; and unless you help me I shall soon be a gone Sniyke. We have in our county-nine hundred and twenty-seven ladies, aged between nine and sixty-seven, nine hundred and eighteen of whom write poetry, and all of whom write something which may be poetry and may be prose. Well; since the report, every one of the nine hundred and twenty-seven have tracked me like hungry wolves. No sleep—no dinner—no cigars—no rest —no peace— no quiet any more for me. I can’t stand it any longer; I’ll be confounded if they don’t let me alone if I don’t hurt somebody; I give ’em fair warning. Only the other day, a lady (never mind her name—that don’t matter) sent me five thousand two hundred pages of foolscap paper, “ being, containing and comprising” (as her note said) “ her complete poetical works,” with a request that, “ tlio’ personally a* stranger to her, (thank the good Lord, so I am.) I would pardon thc'liberty, &c, (I’ll be hanged if I do.) and criticise these humble effu sions,” &c. &c. &c, Well; what could Ido ? I criti cised four thousand and twenty-eight (about half) of her poems, and was at the four thousand and twenty-ninth taken with a fit, and afterward with brain fever, from which lam slowly recovering. Can’t you grant me a literary Bill of Injunction to restrain ’em, or had I bet - ter take out a bond for them all to keep the peace ? I can safely swear they mean to kill me. Look ! here is a specimen—see how you like it and weep for me : An Epigram. No. 398. 12. Boor, poor bug on my rug, jStay awhile, out of doors— By Mrs Falis the rainy wind blows, Harsh and cold, you arc old I love what I love, and what (Perhaps) and might die I dont. love I dont ; Ilf you went into the sky. Ido what I do, and what 11 will go, down below wont do I wont. And bring some cake and Mary’s my name and Tlio-i some jelly mas my nation— :For to fill your empty—sto- A lady by birth and a poet! mach. by station. TfiomasviUe, Ga. I dwell with the stars —1 ride on the wind, No. 1023. And leave all the earth and the earthy behind. By Mrs No. B(>.— An Eclogue. Apostrophe to the Ocean. By—(never uiiml the name.) What meanest thou by thy never ending motion ? Ugly bug on my rug, [ pray thee tell me wise and Lying snug, like a pug, reverend ocean, Dog or poodle, or a doodle, Why tossest.tuinblest, rum- Ever chawing, sawing, blest thou about, gnawing ; And isn’t you feared, you Ever pawing, clapper-claw- waves will all spill out? ing,) Your conscience cant be Like a race nag in a quag. j quiet, so I pray thee Go—begone ! through the-Confcss your sins, for niur door, der thou hast done. Where I’ll see you never-jAnd like to Cain, whoever more! meets will slay thee, Get away—go, I say ; Unless you try for murder My rug’s no place for you! to atone. to stay. j Thomasville, Ga. Thus much at present, from SMYKES. (For the Georgia Temperance Crusader.) *• He that Write* or makes a feast, more certainly invites his judges than his friends ; there's not a guest but will find something wanting or ill-dresl.” So said Sir U. Howard; but 1 do’nt care the snap of my finger for all that, as write I will, since I’ve just seen a copy of the Crusader for the first time since it donned its new dress ; so with my host bow to John, who so lately learned, “There’s bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two soul’s are linked in one heavenly tie (may he have many Seals to thatbljss;) and a slight inclination of the head to that clever old bachelor “to be found in another column,” wno, alas, knows not “ How pleasant is the welcome kiss, When day’s dull round is o’er; How sweet the music of the stop, That meets one at the door,” not forgetting to tip my beaver t 6 the beautiful Editressr (my pen tells me she’s beautiful,) I'll essay to give you, readers some ink-drops concerning my journeyings since leaving the Empire State, even at the risk ol ex amplifying “ llow much a dunce that has been sent to Home Excels a dunce that has been kept at home.” To begin at the beginning, on the morning of the ninth of January last, 1 took my scat in the cars at Rer zelia for a visit to Mobile to spend a short time, in rest, among donr -relatives there, and oo the Iligbeo river, whom I had not seen since childhood's days. After a most delightful ride upon the rail-road, I arrived at Montgomery late Saturday night and was met at the depot by Mr. L. It. Butler, proprietor of the Cremona House, where I was soon enfolded in the arms of the “ drowsv-god,” who “ Winds us np for the succeeding dawn.” Mr. Butler is a Georgian, and has recently opened the Cremona House for the accommodation of the travelling public; and although “anew hand at the bellows.” he scorns to endorse the sentiment of the poet, who said, “ The turnpike road‘to people’s hearts, I find, Lies thro’ their mouths, or I mistake mankind;” for he provides most bountifully, and that of the very best. From a palatable experience, I would sav to all who love eating and a quiet house, give him a cal). After a “barber-ous” t operation and other prelimi naries I, as a matter of course, dropped into the Sunday-schools on Sabbath morning, where I saw many “ shining morning faces” and eyes, i’ Bright as dew-drops when they first descend ;” and hence, could not resist the promptings of my heart to talk to the happy Sundy-sehool children of Montgom ery. Arrangements being [mnde for a union meeting at the Presbyterian church at 3 o’clock, P. M. at that hour I had the pleasure of addressing a large concourse of boys and girls. Having to remain over on Moridny, I passed a part of the day in listening to the debates of the people's servants at the Capitol, and svns much pleased with all I saw and heard. A finer looking body of men one seldom sees, and their debates were conduc ted with a dignity jnnd unbanity/in striking contrast with the scenes ol rowdyism sometimes witnessed in our National Halls, “ Fit for the mountains and the barbarous eaves, AVhere manners ne’er were preached !” Montgomery lias a beautiful location on a bend of (lie Alabnrna river, and when “finished,” will no doubt lie justly entitled to be called the “Crescent City” of the “ Land of Rest.’ ’ The capital has an elevated site, and from its front, the eye take-t in a most beautiful land scape through which the river can be seen winding its way for a long distance with its silver sheen glittering in the sunlight, reminding one of the words of Bryant— “ But thou unchanged Iroin year to year, Gayly shah play and glitter here; Amid young flowers and tender grass, Thine endless infancy shalt pass ; And singing down thy narrow glen Shall mock the fading race of men!” Monday night I again had the pleasure of addressing the Sunday-schools of the city at the Methodist church, and, with the promise to give them a series of lectures on my return, the next day found me “ steaming” down the river on the “ King,” bound for Selma, where, all unexpectedly, I dropped in upon a beloved nephew re siding there. I remained in Selma a few days and made the acquaintance of the “little folk” and a host of friends of the Sabbath-school cause at the Baptist church; but being anxious to pursue my journey, gave them but one lecture, and left with the promise to call on my return. Saturday night at half past 8 o’clock I arrived at Mobile, intending to throw off'the harness at least for a week to recruit the weary body and cool the scetliing brain; but from the following, clipped from the Mobile Tribune, you will perceive “Ala-bain-a” proved a misnomer in my case. A word about the Cru sader anil I close for. tiie present, with the promise to give you some “jottings” about Mobile, New Orleans and other places I have visited. lam delighted with the improved appearance of the paper and the new arrange ment, and also that you have placed the subscription price at a higher figure; for surely no sane man can grumble at paying two dollars for a newspaper. “ Newspaper ! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings? It always tells ns of so many strange and wondrous things ! It makes us weep at tales of woe ; it fills our hearts with mirth; it tells us of the price of stock; of produce tells the worth ; and when, and where, and how, and why strange things occur on earth. Has war’s loud clarion call’d to arms ? has lightning struck a tree? has Jenkings broke a leg, or has there been a storm at sea? or has some heiress with her groom run ofl’to Gretna Green ? All this, and many wonders more, you from this sheet may glean.” So, reader mine, “down with the dust” and take the Crusader’, for, as a gentleman remarked in my hearing but yesterday, il it is a paper which should be found in every family.” So mote it be. W. R. 11. “ AVlicre there is a Will there is a Way.” The above trite saying has been truly verified the past week by the indefatigable labors of Mr. W. R. Hunter, the Sabbath-school lecturer and “children’s friend.” Air. Hunter arrived in our city a stranger and unheral ded, on Saturday night, the ICth inst. On Sunday morning, as his custom is, he started out to visit the Sunday-schools then in session, and before the hour of church service, had made arrangements for a union meeting of the children at the St. Francis Street Meth odist Church, at 3 o’clock, P. M. when he addressed them for nearly two hours. Alt present seemed to be highly entertained and gratified with his lecture, and at the close an appointment was made for another lecture at the same place on Monday night. On Wednesday night he lectured at the Mission Church in the upper part of the city, and again on Friday afternoon, in the Second Presbyterian Church. At each meeting he was greeted with a full house, cvidencingan increased inter est on the part of the children and adults in his lectures. Air. Hunter having been persuaded to remain with us another Sabbath, arrangements were made for another union meeting at the Third Presbyterian Church at three o’clock. P. AI. and to one whose heart seems so deeply interested for the young it must have been a cheering sight to witness such a large assemblage of children as greeted the “ Children’s friend” on that occasion. There was such a large concourse of happy girls and boys that many of them were compelled to occupy the gallery. By Air. Hunter's tract in controlling an audi ence of children, the utmost order was maintained throughout, and all seemed to listen to his words with wrapt attention. AVc noticed that some of the children occupying the front scats became so deeply interested as to rise to their feet and lean eagerly forward, seeming ly so much obsorbed in Mr. Hunter’s theme and manner as to become entirely unconscious of everything else. Although it is very evident that this noble-hearted philanthropist is deeply in earnest in this good work, wc were glad to perceive by his manner of lecturing to children that lie docs not belong to that class of long visaged religionists, who “ AVcar such long faces, just as if our Maker, The God of goodness, were an undertaker ; Well pleased to wrap the soul’s unlucky mein In sorrow’s dismal crape of bombazine.” lie. However, never seemed to forget the time or place, and in making a facetious remark, it is evident to all that it is not his intention to raise a laugh, but rather to illustrate in a pleasing manner some impor tant truth; and we noticed often that while a lurking smile could be seen in the countenances of his hearers, he would let fall a telling sentence, thrilling with elo quence and the deepest pathos, causing a death-like stillness to pervade the entire audience, while many old and young appeared unable to restrain their tears. His remarks to the children on the subjects of Faith and Prayer, at the close ofhis last lecture, will be long re membered, we think, by all who heard them, and we doubt not many a little child left the church that day with an earnest desire to be able, on a death-bed, to ap propriate the sentiment of the beautiful lines quoted by the speaker, as sung by the little dying girl whose death-bed scene Mr. Hunter so beautifully depicted; “ I want to be an angel, And with the angels stand, A crown upon my forehead, And a harp within my hand; There right before my Saviour, So glorious and so bright. I’d make the sweetest music, And praise him day and night.” On Sunday night Mr. Hunter lectured, by request, at the Bethel on the subject of Temperance, and after a very interesting address of near two hours in length, he called for new recruits in the temperance ranks, and thirty-seven names were soon added to the “pledge,” thus verifying the words of the poet: “ The ball is still in motion, Again it goes ahead; Its all a hasty notion, That Temperance is dead.” Before closing we take pleasure in stating that Mr. Hunter, on his return from New Orleans, will lectur again in our city, and we beg to assure him of a hearty welcome from many warm Friends. —Mobile Tribune. Cheap Paint.—ls any of our readers wish to use a very cheap paint, ol’ a drab color with luster, let them mix water lime and skimmed milk, to a proper thickness to apply with a bruslj, and it is ready to use. It is too cheap almost to esti mate, and any one can put it on who can use a paint brush. It will adhere well to wood, whether smooth or rough to brick, stone or mortar, where oil paint has not been used, in which case it will cleave to some extent, and forms a very hard sub stance as durable as the best oil paint. FOREIGN NEWS. _ Hy the Niagara. Halifax, March 36.—The British and North Ameri can Royal Alail steamship Niagara, Capt. J. G Wick man, has arrived with Liverpool dates to Saturdav March 13th. Commercial. Liverpool Cotton Market. -Theaales of cotton for the week ending the 11th inst., wers 21.000 bales, and all qualities had declined id togd., in consequence of the heavy imports. Provisions and Breadstuffs were reported dull. General Infelllgnce. Nothing later had been received from India. Arrests of persons suspected of being implicated iu the conspiracy against the life of Napoleon, continue to be made throughout France. The appeal oi Orsini, nnd his accomplices, has been refused. , The House of Commons of England met on the 12th inst. I)’ Israeli announced a satisfactory termination of the misunderstanding between France and England. SECOND DISPATCH. Sales of Cotton, in Liverpool, to speculators 2,500, and to exporters 2,.i00 bales. The quotations are: Fair Orleans 7ld. Mid. Orleans 7 9-16 J. “ Mobile 7fd. “ Moble 7id. “ Uplands 73d. “ Uplands 7|d. The stock qji Cotton was 272,000, of which 175,000 bales were American, The sales on Friday were 3,800 bales, and the market closed dull. -Manchester accounts were unfavorable, as there was but little enquiry for manufactured goods, and prices were feeble. Flour was very dull nnd almost unsaleable. AVheat was dull, but unchanged. Corn was quiet, but the Brokers’ Circular reports a slight improvement in prices. Sugar closed firm, but the inquiry was limited. Rice was reporter<l buoyant. Rosin was dull at 4s. 3d. to 4s. fid., and Turpentine quoted from 11s. 9d. to 425. od. * Additional General News. An attempt had been made at Chalons, but it was de feated, to revive the Republic in France. A serious riot had occurred at Dublin, between the Police and College Students, in which five of the stu dents had been dangerously wounded. A telegraphic dispatch received in London from Mad. rid, states that Gen Zuloaga seemed well disposed to settle the differences with Spain. The removal o/ Gen. Concha is contradicted. The few items ol news, by the steamer, telegraphed above, comprise all pcintsof general interest received by this steamer. Later froth California. New York. Afnrch 26.—The steamship Aloses Tay lor, from Aspinwall, with late dates from California, lias arrived. She brings one million four hundred thousand dollars in specie. The Moses Taylor nnd her connecting lines on the Isthmus and Pacific, have made the quickest trip, from San Francisco to New York, which lias ever been re corded. The intelligence from Coliforrtia by this arrival is un important. The legislature has confirmed the disputed titles to land, in San Francisco, to the occupants. Gen. M. B. Lamar had been received ns the accred ited Minister from this country by the government of Nicaragua. It was believed that the Ycrisari treaty would here-opened at Washington. Tlio steamer San Carlos had beer, lost on the Lake. Vivanco had captured the town of Arica, in Pern, and one half of the town was destroyed and several hun dred lives list. The attempted revolution in Lima had been sup pressed. —4ta i > A Airs. Jenkins, of Mount Savage, Aid., was frozen to death in her bed a few days ago while intoxicated She left a family of small children. Fatal Accident. —AVe learn that a Air. Brawner, a teacher by occupation, was fatally stabbed on last Mon day evening, by one of his students only twelve years old. The circumstances connected with this case are as follows: While the boys were at play, duringrecess, Mr. Brawnier heard the little boy making use of profane language J lie addressed the boy—William Collins —and asked him what he said. The lad repeated the oath, whereupon, the teacher said to him, “ William, come into the house, and I will settle with you.” The lad walked to the school-room, and while on the way, report says, that a larger boy said to William, “if he attempts to whip you, stick your knife in him.” Mr. Braw ner struck hint once or twice with a switch, William re turned the blow; and made his escape by running off . Mr. B. ran after him some distance, and on his relum, was observed to fall several times. He died from a stab received in the left breast, before reaching the school house. AVe learn that Air. Brawner was raised near Elber ton, Elbert county, Georgia. He was an estimable young man, beloved by aIF who knew him, and none knew him better or loved him more than the parents of the unfortunate little boy, at whose hands he lost his life—yea, the chief mourners round his grave were little AVilliam’s parents, brothers, sisters, uncles and aunts — but “ This is thy work, Almighty Providence ! Whose powers beyond the reach of human thought, Revolves the orbs of empire; bids them sink Deep in the dcad’ning night of thy displeasure, Or rise majestic o’er a wondering world !” It appears that Mr. Brawner was a particular favor ite with William’s parents, as he had been chief atten dant at a wedding party only four days previous to his death, at the marriage nuptials of William’s cister. This sad accident occurred near Berlin, Chambers eo., Alabama.— West Point Citizen. Breach or Promise.—At Chardon, Ohio, they had a breach of marriage contract case before the court rc * cently. Susannah Garris sued John Sumner for the offense, and proved that the “courtin’’ began when she was “ seventeen,” that it continued regularly fourteen years, infersperced with three several appointments of the happy day and the usual country preparations for such an event, as white dresses, new bonnets, quilts, dried apples, embroidered chemises, &c. The defen dant at last repaired to the Stateof New York and mar ried a wife. Then Susan, who had grown wiser, and found that she was getting toward the “ shady side of forty,” got riled and sued. The jury gave her ten thousand dollars. Queen Victoria’s Dress. —It seems A'ictoria is utterly out of the fashion, except in the matter of red flanne l petticoats. She does not approve of the Lilliputian Eu genie hat for one thing, and with a true lady-likc taste ignores jewelry and flashy ornament, especially in pub lic places. An English writer, in giving a few “Chris tian Thoughts on the Manchester Exhibition,” has the following paragraph in his strictures upon the prepos tcrousness of modern fashion: “But let inc throw out a hint to fair sisters—follow the example of your own beloved Queen, and you will not go wrong in your dress. I watched her narrowly as she stood on the dais and her dross, while rich, as it ought to be, was strikingly plain, and ornament of any kind I could hardly detect; and ns for her bonnet, in stead of one of those little bits of things stuck on the back of the head, it reminded me of one of the good old coal box shaped bonnets. I think the ladies of Manches ter—aye, and the ladies of England too —had a silent but eloquent reproof from their Queen, and I trust they will lay it to heart. It will be far more noble to follow the example of a fc reign potentate, who is not of royal birth, and is not distinguished, like our own Queen, for the matroniincss of her appearance.” It would be as well if the ladies of our country, also, would follow so sensible an example, especially in the matter of “ something to wear” on the head, which can at least have a show of protecting delicate heads from the frosts of wintcrand the heats of summer. Young Man, pay Attention! —Don’t be a loafer, don’t call yourself a loafer, don’t keep loafers’ company, don’t hang about loafing places. Bet ter work hard for nothing and board yourself than sit around day after day or stand at corners with your hands in your pockets. Better for your own mind, better for your own prospects. Bustle about if you mean to have anything to bustle about for. Many a poor physician lias obtained a real patient by riding hard to attention an imaginary ono. A quire of blank paper tied up with red tape car ried under a lawyer’s arm may procure him his first case and make liis fortune. Such is the world —to him that hath shall be given. Quit droning and complaining, keep busy and mind your chan ces. ” The bloom or blight of all men’s happiness.” On the 7th inst. by Rev. J. AY. David, H. S. Rees, of Muscogee co. Go. and Almedia A. Brawner, of Harris’ co. Ga. • In Savannah, on the 17th inst by Rov S G Daniel, Campbell Barnard, of Bryan co and Helen, eldest daughter of S B Williams, esq of the former place. On the 10th inst by Hon L M Griffin, J I C John F Malone, of Bainbridge, Ga and Ida Jones, of Gadsden county, Fla. On the 23d inst by Bishop Pierce, Wm H Bonner, of Hancock county, and S Eudosia, youngest daughter of Judge Ramsey of Columbia county. On the 4th inst near Grantville, by Rev A C Rees, O Stafford to MUs E Strickland. On the 18th inst by the same, M S Smith and Jane Fariba, all of Grantville. On the 14th inst by Rev Robert Elcming, Robert R Miller and Martha Colvin. On the 7th inst in Thomas county, by the same, Jo seth O Brown of Lowndes, and Mary Ann Bryan. On the 28th February, James Campbell and Eliza beth Rushing, all of Telfair. On the 17th inst in Thomas county, by Rev Dr Gard ner, Patrick Whitten and Nancy Hancock. On the 21st inst by W P Rogers, J I C John W Dil leshaw and Sallie E Chapman, daughter of Dr Nathan Chapman, of Canton. On the 15th inst by Asa A Shell, J P William H Crawford and Juua F Gary, all of Hancock county. On the 22d mat in Darien, by Rev S J Pinkerton, Marshall B Holland and Minnie E Hopkins.