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kitmu[e ((ntfiaxlcr. * and ■ PEUTFIELD, GEORGIA. THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 8, 1858. kuTscnate Rejected the Amendment*. xne se —The Senate, to-day, refused House amendments to the Kansas bill, Xturnedthe bill to the House by a majority of nimn In the House, the deficiency bill was discussed. Both Houses have adjourned Until Monday. Southern Bank at Bainbridoe- Wc learn from the Ttninliridee Argus that the former managers of this rot se a n concern have deserted it, and that Mr Hubbard who paid ten thousand dollars to a citizon of Batnbridge for its charter-has sold out his speculation to a north ern company. Ex. Greene Superior Court. The adjourned session occupied very nearly the en tire ot last week. Among the legal fraternity, we no ticed in the bar, in addition to the Greenesboro’ law yers Hon. H. V. Johnson, T. R. R. Cobb, N. G. Foster, Junius Wingfield, Col. Reese and the Solicitor, W. A. Lofton. The case of Miss Elder, of Clarke county, against Al fred H. Poullain, of Greene, for seduction, excited con siderable interest. Col. N. G. Foster made an able and eloquent appeal in behalf of the young lady. Judge Cone spoke for the defendant. The Jury hung 24 hours upon a verdict, and finally rendered a bill of damages for the plaintiff to the amount of §2500. We learn that Poul lain has since comprcanised the matter with Miss Elder, by proposing to pay all costs of suit, and give her §3OOO. The negro of J. B. Hart, arrested on suspicion ot hav ing committed violence upon the person of a white lady, was cleared by proving an alibi. Hicks, tried for lar ceny, was sent to the Penitentiary for four years. The Presentments of the Grand Jury appear in to day’s paper. [Written for the Georgia Temperance Crusader.] Friend Seals : As my last communication left me at Mobile I will say a few words about that goodly city. I confess I was decidedly “taken in” there, and that most happily, for I was far better pleased with the ap pearance of the city than 1 anticipated, and in addition Iff the pleasant surprise, and the joy of meeting, once snore, with beloved relatives, I shared largely of the hospitality and courtesy of the warm-hearted citizens. Not knowing in what part of the city my kinsfolk resi ded when I arrived there, it was my good fortune to stop at the “Chester House ” for a short time. I found the house well kept, and its accommodating proprietor a whole-souled friend of Sunday Schools, and 1 feel greatly indebted to him, for much of the pleasure of my visit. I met with more sympathy and liberality, in be half of the cause I love to advocate, in Mobile, than any city 1 have ever visited. I can truly say, there, I found “The tear, inclined to ev’ry voice of grief, The hand that open’d spontaneous to relief— The heart, whose impulse (stay’d not for the mind To freeze, to doubt what charity enjoin’d, Hut sprang to man’s warm instinct for mankind.” Mobile has many interesting Sunday schools, and a host of devoted laborers engaged in this noble enter prise. To show what may be the result of well-direc ted efforts in this good cause, I will mention one, of the many, encouraging facts I gathered there. A little snore than four years ago, a few devoted Christians or ganized a Sunday school in the upper part ol the city, in ‘the midst of a catholic population. At first, they had but few scholars, and held their meetings in a carpen ter’s shop for the want of a more suitable place. I\ot discouraged, however, they labored on with an abiding faith, that the dews of Heavenly Grace would water the seed they were sowing, and cause the tender plants to germinate. Now, they have a neat and comfortable church edifice—a devoted Pastor, and one hundred and fifty pupils in the Sunday school, and their numbers still increasing. I was also glad to find the colored children not over looked in Mobile, as I had the pleasure of lecturing to one very interesting Sunday school of colored boys and girls, and was much gratified to hear their prompt re sponses to all the bible questions I asked. Their ready answers would put to shame the pupils of some schools of white children to whom I have lectured north of “ Mason’s and Dixon's ” line could they but hear them. From Mobile, I passed up the Bigbee river to Coftee ville, on the “ Eliza Battle,” the ill-fated boat which was recently burned to the water’s edge, causing the loss of many valuable lives, and sending mourning and lamentation into many bereaved families. What a warn ing that, to the living, to be found “ready” when the awful summons comes to exchange worlds; and yet, fiow little heeded, oftentimes, is such a demonstration of she uncertainty of human life ! True—too true, it is, over such a scene man will “Pause for awhile, and murmur, ‘all must die,’ Then rush to pleasure, action, sin, once more— Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore 1” May God bind up the broken hearts of those who, by that sad catastrophe, have been led to exclaim, “Have pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me !” As lam now domiciled with be loved kindred, where I hear “ The tones of dear ddigld , The ■morning welcome, and sweet good night,” 1 must dr op the pen for a few days, and defer an ac count of my yisit to CofTeeville until my next. Yours, W. R. H. {Written for the Ceorgia Temperance Crusader.] Friend Seals : We have been blessed with delight llll weather for a week or so past; but while lam pen ning these lines, the sky has darkened, rain is descend ing and the air is becoming chilly—a change from “gay to grave.” A revival is now going on in the Baptist and the St. John’s Methodist Churches, and several have united themselves with both. An increased interest in all the churches in this city is experienced. The daily prayer meetings of the Young Men’s Christian Association are still in operation, and the attendance so very large that -there is scarcely any room for an increase. A prayer i meeting is held at six o’clock in the morning at the Baptist Church and also at the same hour at St. John’s Methodist Church. On Monday evening, 29th inst., Prof. 0. S. Fowler, the celebrated Phrenologist, of the firm of Fowler & Wells, New York, delivered his opening Lecture on the Science of Phrenology, to a large assemblage. Although not a ornate and polished orator, yet he 13 a pleasing speaker. His stand was decorated with the skulls of various animals, Indians and the cast of the skull and .brain of an idiot. His remarks were suggestive of many valuable thoughts. He boldly asserted that very few ‘men of the present day know how to breathe ! When to oat , how to eat, or how much to eat! When to court, how to court or whom to courl! He continues a course of Lectures during the week. An interesting case is now in progress in a Baptist Church some 15 miles .from this city. A member of lhat church, residing withinsight of the meeting house, has had a barrel of “Pike’s Magnolia,” or some other brand of strychnine Whisky in his smoke-house, where it has been disposed of to black and white. He excuses himself on the ground that the whiskey belongs to his son ; but his brethren insist that a3 he is the head of the : family, and has control over Ills own premises, he is responsible for the sale of it even by his son. If he re fuses to abate the nuisance, the members of that church have declared that they will not hold fellowship with him. They firmly believe that it is a moral impossibil ity lor a rum-seller to be a Christian, and vice versa, j •Christianity inculcates Love and Peace"—not Hale and Wai. How any member of the church can reconcile ruin-selhng with his profession or the principles of the Gospel, is more than I can perceive. Curses and im precations prayers and thanksgivings issuing from the eamc source! A man cannot serve God and the devil at the same time. The case will be tried at the confer ence of that churcli. { ■ Upon a review of the members of the Baptist church of this city, I find there are 318 members, consisting of 229 females, of which there are 170 mrs. and 59 misses and only 89 males. This is a glorious commentary up 3 „’ Woman. A of the “Sons of Malta,” a benevolent insti tution, twill be shortly organized in this city. W. Augusta, March 30. P. S. Bugipess brisk. Coffee advancing. A Baton Rouge, Jj a., Paper thus notices an aged negro who died recently in that place: “He belonged to nobody in particular and went pretty much where he pleased. He is said to have been at least one hundred and twepty years < old! Onesiphore Bernard, Sr, one of our eldest fellow citizens, and who is fully reliable—himself some seventy years of ‘ age—says he remembered ■when a boy, that Caesar was too old and infirm •then to perform plantation labor. Ceesar was, without’ doubt our eldest inhabitant.” All Old Field Scliool in Georg la, Thirty Years* ago. FIVE CHAPTERS OF a HISTORY —BY PHII.EMON PERCH. CHAPTER 111. It was the custom, in the Goosepond—as in most of the old field schools of those times—of the pupils to study aloud. Whether the teachers thought that the mind could not act, unless the tongue was agoing, or that the tongue agoing was the only evidence ’ to be lur nished that the mind was acting, it never did appear. Such had been the custom ; and Mr. Meadows did not aspire to be an innovator. It was his rule, however, that there should be perfect silence on his arrival, to give him an opportunity of saying or doing anything he wish, and until he gave the word of command for study. On this occasion, there did not seetn to be any thing on his mind which required to be lifted ofi. He, however, looked at Brinkly Glisson with some disap pointment of expression—(he had beaten him unmerci fully the morning before, for not having gotten there in time—though the boy’s excuse was, that lie had gone a mile out of his way on an errand of his mother) —as if he had expected to have had some business with him, which, unexpectedly, had to be postponed; and then said: “Go to studyin’!” It was plain, that in that house, Mr. Israel Meadows had been in the habit of speaking but to command, and of commanding but to be obeyed. In an instant, was heard then ana there that unintelligible din and jargon, which were invariable incidents of the country schools of that generation. There were spellers and readers, geographers and arithmeticians, all engaged in their se veral pursuits, in the most delightful and inexplicable confusion. Sometimes the spellers would have the heels of the rest, and then the readers. The geographers were always third, and the arithmeticians always be hind. It was perfectly plain, that these last never could catch up with the others. The faster they added or subtracted, the oftener they had to rub out aud com mence anew. It was but a short time, always, before they found this to be the case, and they generally con cluded by adopting the maxim of the philosopher :“Fes tina lente .” The geographers were a little faster and a little louder. But the spellers and the readers had it, I tell you. Each speller and reader, in his or her turn, went through the whole gamut of sounds, from low up to high, and from high down to low again ; sometimes in regular ascension and descension, one note at a time; at other times, by perfect fifths; occasionally, one, as he went up or came down, sounding, as the musicians say, the chromatic intervals. Oh !it was so refreshing to see the passionate eagerness which these urchins manifested for the acquisition of knowledge. To have sliced out about five seconds of their studying, and put the words together, would have made a sentence some thing like the following: “ C-de-e-twice e-an-e three r i 1 two v old seven vill times ade 1 cru i 1 com g fts man o six h mu four ni h eight ca pt r teen e light is ca light i light x tweentlons ty fix ne a cru cor a light rapt double good ty light man cru four ner ci s press fix—oh! ’ ’ To have heard them for the first time, one would have been reminded of the Apostles’ preaching at Pentecost, and could not be persuaded that there were not then and there spoken the language of at least the Parthians and Medes, Elamites and the dwellers in Mesopotamia and in Judea and Cappadocia in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia; in Egypt, and In the parts of Lybia about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and Prose lytes, Cretes and Arabians. Sometimes these cloven tongues would subside a little, when it might bei half a dozen would stop to blow; but in a moment more, the chorus would swell again in anew and livelier accre scendo. When this process had gone on for about half an hour, Mr. Meadows lifted up his voice, and shouted, “Silence !” and all was still. Now was to commence the recitations, during which the most perfect stillness was required ; for, as great a helper to study as this delightful jargon was, Mr. Mea dows found that it did J)ot contribute in the least to the case of his work. He now performed a feat, which he had never per formed before in exactly that manner. lie put his hand behind the lappel of his coat for a moment, and then withdrawing it and holding it up, his thumb and fore finger joined together, he said : “There’s too much fuss here. I’m going ts) cjrap this pin. and I shall whipevery single one of you little bqyjs tjiat don’t hear it when it falls. Thar!” “I heered it, Mr. Meadows !” “I heered it, Mr. Meadows!” exclaimed, simultaneously, two or three little fellows. % “Come up here, you three boys, You area liar;” said he to each one ; “I never drapped it. I never had nary one to drap. It just shows what liars you are. Set down and wait a littLe whiff?, and PH show you how to tell me lies,” The little fellows slunk to their seats, and the recita tions commenced. I shall not attempt to give a descrip tion of these recitations. Memory was the only faculty of the mind which underwent the smallest development at this scliool. Whoever could say exactly what the book said, was adjudged to know his lesson. The most of them, on this morning, were successful; but four or five boys, and as many girls, were adjudged to have them was Asa Boatright’s class. That shrewd and calculating young gentleman knew his words, and fcjt perfectly safe. The class had spelled round three or four tinier, iihen, lo! the contingency which Allen Thigpen had suggested, .did come to pass. Betsy Wiggins missed her word, and (in tjb„e language of Allen) Heneritter Bangs hern, and Mandy Grizzle hern; and their responsibilities were suddenly cast upon Asa, which he was wholly unprepared to meet, and which, fo>n the look of mingled terror and reproach which he gave of those young ladies, as they handed over to him their xv,Q* , d,, he evidently thought it the height of injustice that he should (icen called upon to meet. Mr. Meadows, closing the bodk, tv®sed it to Asa, who, catching it as it was falling at his feet, turned, and hip eyes swimming with tears, went back to his seat. As he passed Allen Thigpen, the latter whispered: “What did I tell you ? You heard the pin drap, too.” Now, Allen was in no plight to have given this taunt to Asa. He had not given five minutes’ study to his arithmetic the whole morning; but Ml'.- Meadows made a rule (this one with himself, though all thepupffs knew it better than any other rule he had,) never to allow Al len to miss a lesson ; and as he had so kindly taken this responsibility upon iffmself, Allen was wont to give himself no trouble about tips matter. Brinldy Glisson was the last to recito. Crinkly was no great hand at pronunciation. He had been p.eqajjng but a short time, when Mr. Meadows advanced hiifffntff geography—with the purpose, as Brinkly came at‘er vvards to believe, of getting the half-dollar extra tui tion. This morning he thought he knew his lesson, and did, as he had understood it. When called to re cite, he went up with a countenance expressive of mild happiness, handed the book to Mr. Meadows, ting his bauds’ ip lff.o pockets, awaited the questions. And now it was ah interesting thing to see Mr. Mead ows fsmile, as Bnrikly talked of tjjlgnds and prominto ries; of thisimuaes and’ h'eerftispoare*. The poor lad misunderstood that snjile, and nis hedf t .yap riad at the unexpected reception of a liW}e complacency from the master. But he was not long in error, “Is-lands, eh ? thsisimusees, eh ? Take this ItOOk, and see if you can find any is-lands ami jjffsffmfsies, .apd then bring them to me—l want to see them things, Idp. Find \es), if you please.” The boy took the book, and it would have melted the heart of any other ijjan tha-n Israel Meadows, to have seen the deep despair ts? his face, as he looked on it, and was spelling over to hiinatii tyords as he came to them. “Mr. Meadows,” he said, in a t/jpe, “I thought it was is-land. Here it is—i-s, 1-a-n-d, land,” and he looked up into his face, beseechingly, “Inland, eh ? is-lani! Now find ihisi- muses, and promintor4ee, and heemispeares.” “Mr. ?dea<i<iv\s, I didn’t know how to pronounce them words. I asked ycuiwiY/ to pronounce ’em, and you wouldn’t tell me; and I asjie® £l/.3.n, and he fold me the way I said ’em.” “I believe that to be a lie.” Brinkly’s face reddened, and his breathing was fast | aid hard. He looked at the master, as but once or twice before during the term he had looked at him, but made no answer. At that moment, Alien Thigpen leaned carelessly on his desk, his elbows resting on it, and his chin at} Jjis hands, and said, drily : “Yes, I did tell jfi.ni so.” - Mr. Meadows now a little. After a mo ment’s pause, lie said: “How often have I got to tell you not to ujrk anybody but me !y?w to pronounce words?’ That'll ‘Ho,'Air j sit. down, sir.” . ‘ “ “ • He went to bis and looking gloomily towards the door a minute,or t\y,o,j}| opened his book, but.stu-. died it no more.’ vMr. Meadows now set upon g'as the only really pleasant portion of his duties—the of offen ders. The lawyers tell us, that of the several portions of the law, the vindicatory is the most important. This element of the lawyers of't lie Goosepond had been culti-: vated so much, that it had grown to become almost the; only one which was ever consulted at all. An for the | declaratory and the directory, they were found to be, wljen clearly understood, impediments to a fair showing and a npoper development of the vindicatory ; in so much that ike latter was often disappointed of a victim for its daily lockJ. And so Mr. Meadows used some times, when his urchins jvould not “miss,” to put the vindicatory—punish tlic.pflfen&r. iind then declare what lie had done to be an offence, and tiivu direct him that he had better not do it any more. He t.9 owe a grudge to society—whether for not'giving him a fatjher,. as it had done to everybody else; or because it had in-; terfered in the peaceful occupation which he had iriheri-’ ted from his grandfather, as if to avenge itself on him for violating one of its express commands, that he, and such as he, should inherit nothing from anybody, jt d}d not appear. But lie owed it; and he delighted in pav ing it nv beating those children, each one of whom aid have or had had a father. So, on this morning, by way of taking up another installment on this immense debt, which, like iiioat other debts, seemed ns if it never would get fully paid, be took down his bundle of hicko ries from two pegs in one yf the jogs in the side of the house, on which nc had placed them on his first coming’ in ; selected a keen one-five or six feet long', and polk ing to the middle of the vacant place between tfje (j}Vr place and t.hc rows of desks, he sat down in his chair, and said: . • “Them spelling and riding classes, all hut Sam rale and Asa Boatright, come tq the circus.” six bo , y , s ’ as ln W gw*>, irpm eight to fini w’ came up, and eltting down yM tj-e rnw j cj<te>plet) all along the length of two the lim Rnd pwlh'ijg qjg’ijietr shoes and stockings, Ikirfs nntnl) o ®’ ft™* 1 , u ' lr they made a ring round Mr. Meadowy as he sat in his chair, and commenced a brink i'tvx f 4 dcscnbed two ov three revolutions, ( and Mr. Meadow* was straightening his hickory, when little Asa ran up, and crying piteously, said : “Please, sir, Mr. Meadows; please, sir, Mr. Mead ows, let go in the circus !” Mr. Meadows rose up, and raised his hickory a strike, but he looked at him a moment, and pointed to his seat. Asa went back to It sobbing. Mr. Meadows resuming his seat, went at once into the exciting part ol the exhibition, by tapping the legs as they trotted around him. This was done at first very gently and al most lovingly, but gradually, as the sport warmed in in terest, tha rapidity and violence of the taps increased. The children began to cry out, and then Mr. Meadows struck the harder; for it was a rule—oh, he was a mighty man for rules, this Mr. Meadows —that whoever cried the loudest should be hit the hardest. He kept up this interesting and exciting amusement until he had given them about twenty-five lashes a piece, the most of them being easily counted by the stripes. He then ceased. They stopped instantly, walked around him once, then seating themselves again on the bench, and resuming their shoes and stockings, they went to their seats, one girl, thirteen years old, had begged him to let her keep on her stockings, but Meadows was too firm a disciplinarian to allow it. When she returned to the front bench she put on her shoes, and taking her stockings up and putting them under her apron, she went to her seat, and sobbed as if her heart was broken. Allen Thigpen looked at her a moment, and then he turned his eye slowly around and looked at Brinkly Glisson. The latter did not notice him. He sat with his hands in his pockets, and his lips compressed. Al len knew the struggle that was going on, and he longed to see how it would end. Meadows rested three min utes. It has no doubt occurred to those who may be read ing this true story, that it was a strange thing in Asa Boatright, who so well knew Meadows’ ways, to have expressed so decisive a wish to take a part in this last described exhibition—an exhibition, however, entertain ing, as it doubtless was, to Meadows, and might be to most other persons, placing them in the attitudes of spectators, was not, to the highest degree, agreeable to one in the attitude which Asa must have known, he would have been made to assume, had Meadows vouch safed to have yielded to his request. But Asa was not a boy who was either a fool, or one who had no care for his physical well being. He knew what lie was about. “Sam Pate and Asa Boatright,” said Meadows, after his rest, “conic out here, and go to horsin’.” The two lads came out; Pate gently inclined himself forward, Boatright got upon his back, locking his arms around his neck, and the former gathering the latter’s legs in his arms, and drawing, as tightly as possible, his pants across his middle, commenced galloping as fast as he could around the area before the fireplace. Mead ows, having taken down a fresh hickory commenced applying it with great force and precision to that part of Boatright’s little body which, in his present attitude, was the most exposed. Every application of this kind made that young gentleman scream at the top of his voice, and even to kick; which Pate, being for the oc casion a horse, was to understand as the expression of a wish, on the part of his rider, that he should get on faster, and so to frisk and to prance, and otherwise to imitate a horse, as far as he could in the circumstances. Now, those circumstances being, that as soon as Boat right should have ridden him about long enough to have become incapacitated from riding upon a real horse, without the smallest degree of ease or comfort, they were to reverse positions. Pate becoming rider, and Boatright the horse; they were hardly sufficient to make Pate entirely forget his identity, in the persona tion of that quadruped. He did his best, though, in the circumstances (if the expression will be allowed .once more,) and not only pranced, but neighed severaltinies. When Asa was put in the condition hinted at above, he was allowed to dismount. Sam having mounted on his back, it was truly stirring to see the latter kick and the former prance. This was always the best part of the show, A rule of tiffs exercise was that wfien the rider should dismount and beeome the horse, he was to act well his part, or be made to resume hi3 place as ri der ; a prospect not at all agreeable—each one deci dedly preferring the part of the horse. Sam was about three years older, and some twelve or fifteen pounds heavier than Asa. Now, while Asa had every stimulus which a sensible horse, as he was could have to do his best, yet'so it was, that he was so sore and Sam was so heavy, tliat he met with great difficulty. He pranced furiously, but fell several times. Finding that he could do no great things at prancing, he attempted to make up by neighing. When Sam cried out and kicked, Asa neighed—jie would stumble against a desk and neigh— he would run neadloiig against the side of the house and neigh—he would lift up one foqi, antj neigh—he would put it down and take up the other, and neigh; and then, when he undertook to lift up both feet at once, fall down and neigh. Never before had Asa so well acted his part in the horsin at the goosepond. Never before had horse with such weight on his back neighed so lus tily. Sam screamed and kicked. Asa floundered and neighed until, at last, stupibling violently against the bench, Sam fell oyer his head, and fotffng loose his hold of Asa’s neck for fear of breaking lffs own, he lay sprawl ing on his belly under the desk. Mr. Meadows burst into a paroxysm. His soul was satisfied—he gave up the pursuit, and ordered them to their seats. They went back to them, and sat down with spell a graduated de clension of body, as one wotjid sit, withal, into a basket of eggs, with a desire to avoid breaking any of them. CHAPTERiv. After the close of the last performance, which Mr. Meadows facetiously called “Horsin,” he rested about ten minuses. The most interesting, the most delight ful, the most insniring exercise was yet to follow—the punishment of Brinkly Glisson. It was strange to see how he delighted in it. He was never so agreeable at playtime pnd in afternoons, as when he had beaten Brinkly in the* mining. If he knew his lesson, and there were no pretexts to b&ht hirn, Ms. (ffo&dcW3 was generally sadder and more peevish than ustffil during the remainder of the day ; and looked and acted as a man who felt that he was deeply injured. Now, Brinkly was one of the best, most honest and bravest, and most \ kind-kea;ted boys in Ihe world. He was the only son ’ of a poor widow, wfic had. at a great sacrifice to her, sent him to Mr. Meadows’ school. IJe had pitched and tended the crop of a few acres’ aroilfidher tiousu, and she had secured the promising of a neighbor to gather it when it was ripe ; and so, to afford her son an oppor tunity of gettjng a “ leetle schoolin’.” He was the ap ple of her eye—Jhe idol of her heart. He was to her as we always think of one who is ‘f qnly son of his mother, and she is a widow.” The sacrifice she made cheerfully; for she loved him as'she loved'her ovyii'spul —and Brinkly repaid that fond mother’s loye and..carc by constant and unremitting study. He soon learned to read pretty well, and was advanced into geography in g couple ot months. How proud the widow was, when she bought tlm jjew geography and atlas, with the pro ce.ecjs.qi'fffur puff’ q/aockp which (sweet labor of love) she had knit with ffep qwri'hdhdp f ha t .a vqrld pfjfnpwj edge, she thought, tl’jprp ppujst be >n a Boole wi'tji five times as many'pages as a spelling boqk, afitj >n those great red, and blue, and pink piafureg, cpyerwg whole page a foot square; and, yet, all this knowledge des tined to become the property of Brinkly ! But Brinkly soon found that geography was above his present capac ity, and at once told Mr. Meadow'3 30, That gentle man received the communication with displeagiu’3, told him that what was the matter with him was lazinegg ; . and that laziness, of all the qualities of boys, was the i onO which im best knew what to do with. He then took ! to beatirrgdne Jiiiiy. Brinkly, alter his first .beating, wi-iefi wjjj a light one, Wjsnt home, and told his nipflie# ofikij and intima ted b?3 (jCctfeffi# aj)} to take anQtjher. THe widow; was sorely- atgfrpsks&'ah.^ JtfigW yh?t to do. On the one hand, was hot- grief iff gyf} was beaten unjustly, and his spirit coWedf fop shp ~ fcWfVT that he studied bll the time he had ; and, though entirely uneducated hereelf, eho WRS not, like many ether pa rents in her day, who thought that the best means to i deyefop the mind, was to beat the body, but, on the I other Land, would be the disappointment of his only chance of gating any education, if lie should leave this school, as there was ijo.qtLiu ffi tfip neighborhood. This, thought the poor woman,"was the wmst ff.qrn of dilem ma; and ao, she affij begged Kim, .as he joyed her, to submit to Mr. Mmows; tfo s{j!?uld bgyp’ thek more time for study. She herself, would ffifi WJfod i and feed the stock. He should have ali tffg ttmo I at home, to himself. He could get it, she told him— she fcntw fie pniffd. Br inkly said yes, he could he knew it, if he could fead b,eUpp, and the master did not give him such long lessons.. Ofi, it would cpme to him af ter a little—she knew it would. Riinjfly yielded; but how many a hard struggle he made to continue that submission, no one knew but he—not even his motfier; for lie concealed from her as much of the treatment he had received, and his suffering under it, as he could. Mr. Meadows could see it, sometimes. He knew that the bpy was not afraid of him. He could see it in his eye every jtinjc he beat him; and it was this which af forded hfm'stiejh infinite satisfaction in punishing him. He wished to Subdue. Brinkfy w,<?uld never beg, or weep. Mr. Meadows often thought that ffp yap wn jjte point of resisting him ; but lie knew (the region why fie i did not, and while he hated him for It, ha trusted that. it would last, yet, he often doubted whether it would j antj thus the matter became so intensely exciting, that he corktlftgajjy sought for opportunities of bringing it ; up. Heilpvpd ty tempt him. He'had no doubt but that he could manage imp in an yon combat; but yet, he did not wish it to COtwO to ihjit. Ho onjy gloried in goading h)] almost to resistance, and tacn opting’ him yield. ‘ v • Have we not all seen how lh* fdfSW man adapts him self to the different animals of the roanagnrk?? flow quickly and sharply he orders the lesser animal?, who jump over his wand and over it again, and back and over again, and crouch in submission* as he passes by! But when he goe3 to the lion, you can scarcely hear his lew tones, as he commands him to rise and perform his part, and i@ npt certain whether he will do as he is bid or not. Dpubis sr.d thoughts UU thg/sp were ever in the or Mr. MedfJows, when he set la w beat Brinkly Glisson. After a‘kiiOF ffat jrqiff til'd fatigues of the last exercise, he rose from his sunt, paced slowly across the room once or twice, and taking down a hic r 1 ory switch-nrthe longest, largest and keenest of all he had—he stopped in the mid.dJf 3 pf !l ie fl oor, and, in a low, quiet tone of vou:e, said >’ “Brinkly Glisson —come.” Allen had been eyeing Brinkly all the time, since the closing of the circus. Ho saw the conflict which was going on in his soul; and whon Mr. Meadows had burst into the proxysm of laughter, at the untoward ending of tii6’ horwn, fie thought he saw that the conflict was ended, and he'chuokted. Slowly and calmly, ‘ Brinkly rose frejn his scat, and walked up and stood before Mr, Meadows; “Why, high!” thought Allon. “ Off with your coat, sir”’—low and genfle, and with 1 a coupfenance almost smiling. ‘Brinkly stispd jnotionlcss. He had done so before in sitnilor'cfrcjfnltnness, o)j,c? or twice, but had, at length, yielded'. • 1 • ■ * ’ W “ Off with it, sir t” louder and not quite so gentfe. Sfp hiotion on Brinkly’s hart ; r.ot . fcO'eri in jus syos, I jvhjcjihrQked stpgfjjly into the mastor.’s,’W.it[i a meaning! which he nearly, h.yt not quite undei stood- ” ‘l Ain’t yog going tq p.ujfl yff fco.a/, r V’ now loud “What fur?” asked Brinkly. I “What for, sir?” “Yes, sir, wlmt fur?” “Because I’m going to give you this hickory, you im pudentscoundrel! Andif you don’t pullitoffthis min ute, 111 give you such a heatin’ as’ll make you feel like you never was whipped before, since you was born Ain’t you goin’ to pull it off, sir?” “No!” Allen wriggled on his seat, and his face shone as the lull moon. Mr. M-eadows retreated a step; and catch ing the switch two feet from the larger end. he raised that end to strike. “Stop one minute, if you please.” Mr. Meadows lowered his arm ; and his face smiled a triumph. This was the first time that Brinkly had eV fio C^i r chuckled; Allen looked disappointed, w n top, eh. I yi! This end looks heavy, does it ? Well, I shouldn t be surprised if it warnt sorter heavy. W ill you pull oft your coat, now, sir ?” Air. Meadows, I asked you to stop, because I want to say a lew words to you. You have beat me, and beat me, worse than you ought to a beat a dog (Allen’s face getting right again) and God in Heaven knows, that endourin the time that I have come to school to you, I have tnted as hard as a boy ever did try, to please you, and to git my lesson. I can’t understan’ that jography, and I am t been a read’n’ long enough to understan’ it. 1 have ast you to let me quit it; mother has ast you. You wouldn tdo it; but you have beat me, and beat me. (You do not know whether Allen wants to laugh or to cry.) Whell, now, the more I study it, the more 1 don t understand it. I would a quit school long ago, but mother was so anxious for me to learn, and made me come. And, now, I have took off my coat to you the last time. (Ah! now Ido see a great big tear in Allen’s eye;) Listen to me,” as the teacher’s hand makes a slight motion, “don’t hit me. 1 know I ain’t iearnin’ nothin’, and your heatin’ ain’t goin’ to make me learn any faster. If you are determined to keep me in this jography, and to beat me like you hav’ been a bcatin me, just say so, and I’ll take my hat and go home. I’de like to a-not come to-day, but I thought I knowed it. Now, I say agin, don’t, for God’s sake, don’t hit me.” And he raised up both his hands, pale and trembling. It would be impossible to describe the surprise and rage expressed on the face of Mr. Meadows during the delivery, and at the close of this little harangue. He looked at the boy a mpment; his countenance expressed the deepest sadness; but there was nothing in it like defiance or threatening; it was simply sad and beseech ing. The master raised his switch, and struck with all his might across his shoulder. In an instant, sadness and beseeching passed from Brinkly’s face; the long pent-up resentment of his soul gushed forth, and the fury of a demon glared in his eyes. He was preparing to spring upon Mr. Meadows, when the latter, by a sudden rush, caught him and thrust him backwards over the front bench. They both tumbled on the floor, be tween the rows of desks, Mr. Meadows uppermost. “It’s come,” said Allen, quietly, as he rose and looked down upon the combatants. Mr. Meadows attempted to disengage himself and rise; but Brinkly would rise with him. After several attempts at this, Brinkly managed to get upon one knee, and by a violent jerk, he brought Mr. Meadows down to the floor j and they were, in the phraseology of the boxing-ring, cross-and-pile. Mr. Meadows shouted to Sam Pate and another boy, to hold Brinkly, until he could rise. They rose to obey; but Allen, without say ing a word, put out his hand before theiq, and motion ing them to their seats, they resumed them. And now the contest set in for good—Mr. Meadows struggling to recover his advantage, and Brinkly to improve what he had gained. The former’s right arm was thrown across the latter’s neck, and its hand wound in and pulling vio lently his hair, his left hand pressing against his breast . Brinkly ? 3 left leg was across Mr. Meadows’ middle, and with his right against a stationary desk for a pon sto, his right arm befit and lying under him like a lizzard’s, and his left jn Ms. Meadow's shirt collar, he struggled like a young giant tpget uppermost. When Mr. Mead ows’ upper parts were rising, and about to rule the as cendant, Brinkly’s lower parts would swell like a sea wave. Between these two the strife was even, and it was plain that the matter would have to be settled by Mr. Meadows’ lower parts and Brinkly’s upper parts. When Brinkly would raise his head, that hand wound in his hair would instantly bring it back to the floor. When Air. Meadows would attempt to disengage his leg from underneath Brinkly’s that member, assisted by its brother from th epon sto, held it like the boa holds the bullock. Oh, Air. Aleadows! Mr. Aleadows! you don’t know the boy that grapples with you. You blow, Mr. Meadows! Bee, Brinkly blows not half so hard. You walk a mile to and from school; Brinkly seven, often running the first half. Your right hand pulls less vig orously at the hair of Brinkly’s ascending head. Look there, now Brinkly’s leg has moved an inch further across you ! Wring and twist, Mr. Aleadows; for right under that leg, if any where for you, is now the post oi honor. Can’t ypu draw out your left leg, and plant it against the desk behind you, as Brinkly does with his right ? Alas ! no! Brinkly has now made a hook of his left, and his heel is pressing close in the cavity be hind your knee. Ah, that was an unlucky move for you then, Mr. Meadows, when you let Brinkly ? s hair go, and thrust botlj of your band s at his eyes. You must haye dpnp that in a passion. But you are racking him some now, tjiat is certain. But gee there, now, Air. Aleadows, he has released his grasp of your shirt collar, and thrown his left arm over you. Good morning to you now, Mr. Meadows ! On the instant that Air. Aleadows had let go his hair, Brinkly, though he was being gouged terribly, released his hold of his collar, threw his arm across his neck, and pushing with all his might with his right leg against the desk behind him, and giving a corresponding pull with his left, he succeeded in getting fully upon him; then springing up quick as lightning—as Mr. Meadows, pant ing, Jifgjeyes gleamed with the fury otan enraged tigress, was if thin p ting to rise—Jie jjeah h : m a blow in the face with his fist, which £cnt Hitft back bleeding line a butch ered beast. Once more the master attempted to rise, and those who saw it will never forget that piteous spectacle of rage, and shame, and pain, and fear. Once more Brinkly struck him back. And then he sprang upon him again, seizing his arms, and pinioning them tinder iiis knees, {;e wound both hands in his grizzly hair, and raising his” head', he brought jt down several times with all his might against the floor. “Spare me —for God’s Sake; spare me!” cried Mr. Meadows, in tones never before heard Ircm him in that house. Brinkly stopped. ‘.Spare you,” he said, now panting himself. “Yes, spare you,-whp Spared anything that you could hurt, poor, cruel and unfeelin-’ irtaftiYou loved to beat other people, and gloried in seein’ ’em sufferin’ ; and when they bogged you to spare them, you laughed, you did. And now you are beat yourself, and whipped, and you beg like a poor cur dog. Yes, and I’ll spare you,” he continued, rising from him ; “it would be a pity to he a t tiny sicb, 0- ppor, cowardly human as you are any Jdrtger. • Now, go) go and make them poor little chaps tJfaS- go tj)'hdrsin : agm, arid‘cut’em in. two agin, arid then git in the circus ring, and mffke therh'btbfefs lhar, gais afid gals and all—hold up their etose, and trot round you; and tljgy cry like’ you, and beg you to spare ’em, you laugh agin. n The boy turned from him, gathering up his books, he WPn{ to tpe peg whereon his hat was hanging, and was in the act of taking it down, witon a audden revulsion of feeling came over him, and he sat down and wept. And oh, the feelings of that poor boy's heart! The re collection of the cruel wrongs he had suffered ; of the motives, full of pious duty, which had made him endure .thVit; ihd j thought of ho,v fr.istqken was the wish of his mother,'that he-should endure them, and jio>y they had been avenged ; thfese ‘ali infecting-ai once in his gen tle bi.it'nmiught spirit, overcame- it, and broke it into; iMfnjjf 1 ‘ ’'” ‘ ‘ l *’ ‘ ‘ ‘ Meanwhile, other things .were gqing ffit), Mr. Mead ows, haggard, bloody, bruised and covered Sthth d)rt, slung off towards the fire place, gpt down in Jits chair and buried his face in his hands. The scholars —boys and girls—liad all been in tlm highest states of alter nately alarm and astonishment. They were now all standing about their seats, looking alternately at Brinkly and at Mr. Meadows, but at the latter mostly. Their fcountenaiices plainly jndipnted that that was a sight which, in llidii’ ftirnds, Jiatl never before been vouchsafed tq mgjtifl y'sihn. f A Schoolmaster whipped,-beat, choked —his hohti’ immhgd- wd’ by one of his ‘scholars!’ and ; Mr. Meadows—Mr. f Aieaao'w#,'thaf's,a)lfe fi)art, who, ten minutes before, was in the exercise of eovdivigh and despotic authority! And then to have heard him beg —a schoolmaster—Air. Meadows —actually beg Brinkly to snare fiirji ’ These poor children actually began to feelW only pity,’ but’ gyyift resentment, at what had bppn dpne, Tlply felt tqrfffied, and, Jtf sojup extent, mlserabt'’, at lf:p sjgl|t pf so much'power, iso’much au thority, so much royalty dishonored and laid low! Brinkly appeared to have been transformed, fjp was a murderer—a regicide f Talk of the divine right ol kings if you wish. There was never half .of. the piety felt for it, as the children in country schools in the south ern States felt for the kingly dignity of the schooimas. tors of tjpfty yearn tb>.m;ii ¥, Allen Thigpen was the only One .of the pupils who did ; not entirely lose his wits while t ho events of the last ; few minutes were transpiring. Mr. Meadows 1 had taken his seat, Allen looked at hint lor a moment 1 o'-two, as if hesitating, what to do. He then walked ! slowly tiv/ai-d? him, and delivered the following ora ’ tion: “ It’s come to it at I t|e fast, yop ort tp a seen it yourself, but ypu yvofjla’nt, ur you could' fit, ami I den I know which, and it makes no odds which; you didn't ~--t did i and tjovy jt’p come, and such a beatin, Jperoosalem! But don't, you be too much took Lack by it. You want goin’ to keep school here no longcr’n to-day, no how. Now, I had laid off, Mr. Meadows—l say, I had laid off in my mind to a gin s-sits II duckin’ this very day; and I’ll tell you for why. I Npt atil’c gqt anything paj-tjcular agin you, myself. 1 y°u hoi;jU aftW n,o| pno out o,'the way ip p.p this > -jtlije.ftrst placpi it-'s hot my opinion, nur hala't bo*,; fiqr tjpjjp, that you ape fit too be a schooluiasbr Hint a them sums in hi-tfmjp-ln fl'USt IS the very thing, and the only thing I wanted too learn—l suy tlaf’a them sums in In-trust, which I can’t work, an,d whjpb yqq oqn'f sjipw mp how too work, or haul t yit, though l ye beep cypherin’ in it now two months. And tnui’ g Me|y .Tones, that’s in thp sapje, and sho hain’t loarnt It neither, Hut tjiaf ain’t the main thing yit. It’s your imposin’ disposition. It this here school-house,” continued he, looking around, “if this here school-house linin’t seen more onmerciful heatin'? than ary nuthcr school-house in this country, t then ,{ say it's arUv thqt tljar’s sjch a thing as educa ■ tion} ami if tj t e >Vny that thirds ha,; cps n ,B|} >n this horo echbol'housc, Since youwe been nepp, is the onliest way of genin’ of ii education, tgpn { sy, agirj, it’s a pity thar's sich a thing'as education, It pint worth while for mo to name over all the ways jrou ve had of tormentin’ o’ those children; you know em, I 1 know ; everv body about tins here school-house 1 knoW'Vih. New, ass sufd bjjforp, I had laid off to a gin’-you a duckin’ t.M* very day ; and HU niormn/ I was going to let BrinlUy into? it, till I found that the time r seen was a cummin’ in him was done cum, and I Unwed he wouid’nt jine-iti ducKin’ you, on account o- KSmSWi?. Now I’i'fi km a tbinktn o’ this for more’p two weeks, bekase —noW. listen ac me didn't you say you was from South C alliner ? Pausing for a reply, and receiving no answer, he con tinued: “Yes, you said you was from South Calliner. v> ell, now, I’ve hearn a man—a travellin’ man—who staid all night at our house, on his way from Fluridji, say he knowed you. He axed me, seein’ me study in’, who 1 went to school to; and when I told him (Mr. Meadows appearin’, for the first time, to be listening) ‘Aleadows , says he, ‘ What Meadows ?’ * Israei Aleadows, says I. ‘ Israel Aleadows!’ says he; ‘lsrael Meadows a school master?’ and he laughed, he did; he laughed fit to kill hisself. Well, he told me wharyou lived, and who you wus— who you wus,” lie repeated, in a low, knowing tone. “But you needn’t be too bad skeered. lam t told it to the fust human, and I ain’t goin’ to, till you leave. Now I had laid off, as I told you, to gin you a duckin’; but I hain’t the heart to do it, and you in the fix you are now at the present. Nuff ced, as I seed in a bar-room in Augusta, on a piece ol pasteboard, under the words ‘no credit,’ when I was thar. Wonder n thar’s goin’ to be much more schoolin’ here?” _ Saying which, Allen puckered his mouth as if for a whistle, and stalked back to his seat. Mr. Meadows, during the last few sentences of this harangue, had exhibited some emotion. When Allen had told him what the traveller had said, he looked up at him, once, a countenance of terror, and on. Allen’s assuring him he had not mentioned it, he had again slunk down, and buried his lace again in his hands. When Allen had finished, and resumed his seat, he rose, and beckoning to him, imploringly, they went out of the house together. Around to the chimney coiner they went, and after a few minutes they returned. Mr. Meadows took up his hat, and, without looking at any one, walked rapidly away. He had just entered the path in the pine thicket, and turning, unobserved, (as he thought, though a little boy, who was playing truant that day, and lay hid in the thicket, saw him,) he paused and looked back at the school-house. And oh! the an ger, the impotent rage, chagrin, and shame that were depicted upon his blood-shot face! No exiled monarch ever felt more grief and misery than he did, in that mo ment. He paused but for a moment; and raising both his hands and shaking them towards the house, without saying a word, he turned again, and almost ran along the path. After he hsd gone, and not until he had gotten out of sight, Allen —to whom all eyes were now directed, (ex cept Brinkly’s, who sat with his head hidden in his hands on the bench,) took Mr. Aleadow’s chair, and crossing his legs, he said: “ Well, boys and gals, the Goosepond is a broke-up school. The school master has, so to speak, absquatu dated. Thar’s to be no more horsin’ here, and the cir cus is clean shot up. And the only thing I hates about it is, that it’s Brinkly that’s done it and not me. But he wouldn’t give me a chance. No,” he added sorrow fully,” as if speaking to himself, “he wouldn’t give me a chance. Narry single word could I ever git him to say to me out o’ the way. I have missed lessons. ’Deed I never said any, I never kept navy single rule in his school, and he wouldn't say nothin’ to me.” Ti en going to Brinkly, he put his hand on his shodlder, no, it’s just as it o’rt to a been. You was the one to do it. And in the name of all that’s jest, Brinkly Glis son, what is you been cryin’ about ? Git up, boy, and go and wash your face. I would druther a done what you have done, than to a been the man that fooled the tory in the revolutionary war, and stoled his horse, in the lile of Alarion. Come along and wash that face and hands,” and he almost dragged Brinkly to the pail, and pouring water while he washed. The children, recovering from the consternation in which they had been thrown by the combat and its re sult, now began to walk about the house, and pick up their books, and lay them down again. They would go to the door, and look out towards Air. Meadows’ path, as if expecting him to return ; and then they would stand around Allen and Brinkly, as the latter was washing and drying himself, but they never spoke a word. Sud denly Allen, mimicking the tone of the school master, cried out : “ Asa Boatright and Sam Pate go to horsin.” In a moment they all burst into shouts of laughter. Asa mounted on Sam’s hack, and Sam pranced around and neighed, oh, so gaily ! Allen got a switch, and made as if he would strike Asa, and that young gentle men, for the first time in the performance of this inter esting exercise, screamed with delight instead of pain. “ Let Asa be the schoolmaster,” shouted Allen. “Good morning, Air. Boatright,” said he, with mock humility. “ Air. Boatright, may Igo out,” asked tim idly, half a dozen boys. Asa dismounted, and seizing a hickory, he stood up in the middle of the floor, and the others formed the cir cus round him. Here they came and went, jumping over his switch, and cryjng out, and stooping to rub their legs, and begging him to stop—for God’s sake, Air. Boatright, stop. Suddenly, an idea struck Air. Boatright. Disbanding the circus, he cried out: “You, Isr’l Meadows, come up here, sir. Been a fightin’, haye you, sir? Come up, sir. Oh! here you are,” and Mr. Boatright fell upon the teacher’s chair; and of all the thrashings which a harmless piece of household furniture ever did receive, from the days that mankind first ceased to sit upon the ground an and on cushions, up to the present, that unlucky chair did there and then receive doubtless the worst. Boatright called it names—he wore out evory switch upon it—he drag ged it over the floor—he threatened to burn it up—he knocked it against the wall: one of its rounds falling out, he beat it most unmercifully with it; and, at last, exhausted by the exercise, he indignantly kicked it out of doors, amid the screams and shouts of his schoolfel lows, who now all gathered up their hats and bonnets, and books and slates, and went off cheerily to their sev eral homes. This is what happened that morning at the Goose pond. And if anybody asks the reason why I have ta ken five chapters to relate the incidents of one morning, all occurring at the same place, let him read the follow ing aneepote, which I heard many years ago : A negro man came to his master to inform him of the death of both his oxen. ■■■■<•’ > “Master, one ofdem steers is dead.” “ Which one ?” “ Sam.” “Ah! well, you must get a yoke-fellow for Lion'” “ Lion’s dead, too.” “ The dickens! ‘Why didn’t you tell me that at first, you fool ?” - “Master, I was afraid you couldn’t bar it.” Telegraphic dispatches state thatpyery member of the House of Representatives in Congress, favorable to the admission of Kansas with the Lecompton Constitution, was in his seat at the time Mr. Stephens called up the bill on Wednesday, with the exception of Mr. Caruth ers, of Missouri, who was absent in consequence of sick ness. ‘Tom, you sot,’ said a temperance man to a tip pling fridn'd,•‘wha't “ftiakc's you drmk sucjvstuff as you do? Why, the very hogs wouldn’t drink that brandy.’ ‘That’s cause they is brutes,’ said Toni. ‘Poor crea tures! they 1 don’t know what’s good. 1 [A carp.] TO TIIE PEBEIC. I have been informed. by undoubted authority, that some low-lived, insignificant puppy has put in circula tion a leport calculated to injure my character where I am not known; and not having sufficient grounds to justify my making a personal attack upon the scoundrel, I takefthis method of informing the honest citizens of Greene county jtjit ttyo ropoft ,js hot true, and I deny it most emphatically. ‘ ’• “.i The report is,'that during the trial of a suit recently trifid in'this county between-Elder* and Poullain, Dolvin Hunt and inyself were bribed by defphdAn't to give a verdict in his favor- Wboeyer says (I’ care not who they be) that the defendant influenced ‘ me in any man ner whatever,’■io give a verdict in his favor, is a poor, debased, cowardly skunk, who acts on the principle that every man is to be considered dishonest because he is dishonest himself. God knows, and honest men know, I gave the verdict as my conscience dictated, and never was there even a hint from any one to decide as I did. Twoukjl havfi.decided as i did nau bvtl. parties been entire strangers 6r intinYaie' FrlehitsV’ J Jodjk Upon Mr. Poullain as being a gentleman of too high a Sense of honor to oiiof h bj,fbe djd lie cyeti kfroW* that by so doing he could gain the cash; and by pot (t he would lose his last dollar. I look upon the crime'he commit ted as being a great wrong; he feels it—he knows it, and J believe honestly he lias repented for it, still the cry is, persecute hlpi! nefep.cute him ! away with him. Let ing'apk whp these dp up notations ppmp fyqm ? From men Whft'pccupy respectgblp places in society; but whose hearts, fcotiid they he seen as they really arc, to the public, would be pregnant with the blackest crimes that were ever recorded upon the annals of our country. Yes ! the blood of some of these hypocrites is coursing, to-day, the veins of some gentleman’s carriage driver. I care not what mean men think of me ; I take this me thod Qpjy those jyhodo npt know ipeas I am from fprmifig ar( iiipof-rept itfpa'Q'f pip Trpfi) what men stepppd’ in pfime tpjj tijqps darker than was ever com niiliod iiy ft f’OHviPt j‘n pur gtat£ prison, may say of me. Penfield, April 5, 1858 JI, Af, fO^TER. TRIBUTE OF RESPECT. Ciceronian Hall, April 2d, 1858. A meeting of the Sophomore class of Mercer Univer sity haying been p ; t}l|c|d for the punioac of naming some tribute of respect to the nibffidry prone 6? tneif munbter, Mr, S. L. Peebles, wfio departed this life on tlje l9tihst; it ww ntavsd thfit atmmnmiMVfive b# appointed. dralt suitable rtmolutioms. This committee, censUring of Messrs. Matthews, Carson, McCall, Harris a*2 Proctor, submitted the following, which were unani mously adopted i Whereas, we, the Sophomore Class of Mercer Uni versity are pollpt} upon to lament the untimely death of Ottr"beloVed"efaesniAfp, Mr. S/L'. Peebles, We are desi rous, in so doing, of expressing, not only sorrow at the soypffinpp of ties which half endeared him to us all, but also our high npprsdittipu ot virtues w|l|ch adorned his life. He had been among us but a short time, yet long enough to display traits of character which pro clnipied him both the Christian and gentleman. Reti ring in ipanpef and etgdipps > n Habits, hjs example was giving tone to our University and inspiring respect in ail who knew him t therefore, be it l.<, Resolved, That while we bow to the will of Him who is all merciful and wise, we would nevertheless re cord our sense of the loss we have sustained. 2</, Resolved, That in the death of our friend and classpm'te, MV. X L. Peebles, we have sustained an ir reparable joss, but me,comforted with the hope that our lops js his eternal, an,in v ~ , 3d, Resolved, That we deeply sympathise with his afflicted relatives, and that a copy of these,resolutions be transmitted to them, and that the same be published in the Crusader and Index. 4th, Resolved, That wc attend his funeral in a body ind wetr the usual badge of mourning thirty days. < G; A. MATHEWS, V f M. PROCTOR, | M. N. m’cat.l, ■ Ccm. 1 1. P. CARSON, 1 /. HARRIS. J FOREIGN NEWS. General Intelligence. Nothing of much interest had transpired in Parlia ment. The East India Loan Bill, after much discussion in Parliament, had been passed. Count Persigny had resigned the French mission in London. [Rumors were current a week before in Paris, that the Count would resign this mission, and take the place of Count Walewski, as Minister of Foreign Af fairs in France.] It was currently stated that the French navy was to be placed on a war looting. Il was confidently stated in Madrid that the vexed questions between Spain and Mexico had been amica bly settled. The United States sloop-of-war Cumberland, the flag ship of the African squadron, had been in very immi nent peril during a hurricane off the Island of Madei ra. Two of her men were lost during the storm. We have dates from Canton to January 28th. No re ply up to that time had been received from the Empe ror. The allied forces would ascend the Ho river with a fleet of gun boats, manned with four hundred French and one thousand English from the garrison at Canton. The English were erecting strong works on the Island of Berim. There is afurther deficiency in Teas reported. Washington, Alarch 31. —In the Senate to-day the Minnesota bill was amended so as'to allow two repre sentatives, until a census was taken. The .Georgia Penitentiary has opened the spring sea son with brighter prospects than ever. The prospect is now good for an abundant harvest of rascals.— Federal Union, March 30. A Youthful Candidate for the Gallows. —A slave boy, eleven years of age, who confessed to the burning ol Col. A Bayly’s residence, in Surry county, Va., has been sentenced to death. % The Athens Watchman is credibly informed that in Jefferson the other day a man who was very drunk hav ing vomited in the street, some hogs passing along stopped and helped themselves to as much as they wanted, and shortly thereafter died, notwithstanding the efforts that were made to save them ! What killed the hogs? Was it the strychnine in the whisky? Who will dring buckeye whiskey after this? “ The bloom or blight of all men's happiness.” On Tuesday, the 18th inst., by the Rev. J.H. Harris, Air. Troup Perryjian, and Aliss Leonora Ward, all of Randolph county, Ga. In Putnam county, Ga., on the 23d inst., by the Rev. Wm. Arnold, Mr. Mark A. Hubert of Americus, and Aliss Rebecca A. Marshal, of the former county. When coldness wraps this suffering clay, All! whither strays the immortal mind ! It cannot die—it cannot stay, But leaves its darkened dust behind.” Died In this city, On the 23d instant, of Consumption, Mr. William S. Williford, in the 37th year es his age. Air. Williford was a native of Greenville, S. C. At an early age he settled in Savannah, and about 14 years ago, removed to Macon, where he continued to reside until his death. The distressed always found in him a sympathizer, and the virtuous a friend. Every enter prise calculated to suppress vice or advance morality obtained his sanction and support. He was a zealous advocate of tho Temperance Reform, a worthy Mason and an humble and consistent Christain. In his domestic relations he was a kind Father an af fectionate Brother, a dutiful sonand a'devoted fyqsbarid. His illness was protracted and painful, yet he was never known to murmer, and through his indomitable energy continued in the discharge of busines, almost until the day of his death. His upright and honorable deporUnent endeared him to the community, and he died regretted and respected by all who knew him. His remains were followed to the tomb by the Masonic fraternity, the Alacon Volun teers (oi which he was a member) and a large con course offriends, all testifying that a worthy man has departed. He leaves a deeply afflicted family, who deserve and will receive the sympathies of the community. A Friend. Died, at his residence in Floyd county, Ga. on the 12th of November last, in the 31st year of his age, Dr. James T. Bond. In 18<6, he professed religion and joined the Methodist church, in which he continued a faithful member to his death. He was zealous to im prove the moral condition of his neighborhood ; and in his last hours, was able to testify that all was well as to his future prospects. He said to his wife he was per fectly willing to die—dont weep for me: I have no leara but you will be taken care of. : He leaves, also, a little daughter, an only child, on whose tender ‘being he poured out his heartVlaSt blessing. HeVas a member of the masonic fraternity. Will’ not the brethren look aftef that daughter? Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord : yes, saith the Spirit, they rest from their la bor, and their works do follow them.” C. F. PRESENTMENTS OF THE GRAND JURY OF GREENE COUNT?. “ The Grand Jury, selected, chosen and sworn for March Term qf Grpene Superior Cpurt, 1858, beg leave, respectfully, to niulte the following General Present ments : We have examined, through committees, the roads and bridges, the books of the County Treasurer, of the Clerk of the Superior and Inferior Courts, and of the Ordinary ; also, the Court-house and Jail. We find the roads and bridges, generally, in tolerably good or der, with the exception of the bridge across the north* prong of Little Riyor, which is much out of repair; also, the road leading from Madison fb Poivllain’s bridge; between Little and Big Green Brier creeks, (especially at the ford of Ljttle Green Brier,) is in bad condition, and we hereby request the proper authorities to have this road and the butttnent of the bridge across Little River, put in good repair. We also recommend, that the proper authorities have the bridge across Ogccheo, on the road leading fr om Bethany to Bethesda, “ put in good order. We have examined the Treasurer’s books, and fmd them neatly and well kept. There was in his hands, on the 9th ofMarch, 1857, sixteen hundred and fifty three dollars and fifty-seven cents, front which the suin ofeleven hundred and ninety dollars and twenty-e;xl. • centsihas been disbursed, for all of which \re hrufiriiji per and satisfactory-vouchers, leaving ndwin Iris hands a balance of four hundred and dollars and nine cents. - -• < • • * *t We ltaye examined the Ordinary’s bookg, and find them neatly and cowWity item. Thp arrangement'm the books and papers of the office is most'excellent, ants reflects much credit upon the Ordinary. We find a bal ance of sixty, three dollars and ninety cents in the hands of the Ordinary, for Poor School purposes. It is also estimated, that it will require a tax of thirty per cent, upon the State Tax, to meet the demands of the present year. We therefore recommend, that the Ordinary levy that r mount. We.hay^,pxamined the Court-house and Jati.and find them in good order, anil the'Jail safe and elettrily. .Th* Clerk’s books of th'e Irifeijibri and ‘Superior Courts, ate well kept, the entries being properly made,’ and carriccj forward with the 1 necessary ipdpxps,’ reflecting much credit upon the officer. .... - We call the special attention of the Tax Receiver tg the law in relation to free negroes and nominal slayes. We also recommend tq tfie Inferior Court, to have pro per fastenings |p the windo\vrsluitters on the Court house. In closing our arduous and protracted labors of nearly two weeks, and in taking leave of his Honor, Judge Hardeman, we respectfully lender him out most cor dial thanks, for the prompt and efficient manner in which he has so ably discharged hit official duties du ring the tem pf tips opp-f, / .... Our thanks'are equally due, and hereby tendered tq the Solicitor Gfindpaj, Wm. A- Lqftan,, for tfie aid and legal adyice with which he‘has favored us, apd sos his courteous and gentlemanly intercourse with us, while in the prosecution ofour investigations. We request that these Presentments be published in the Weekly Gazette and Temperance Crusader. R. H. WARD, Foreman. W TUGGLE,, Senior. ’ J T FIND'LBW V CMAWFURD, DAVID. LESLIE, JO UN eOECSLQVGH, THOMANMILLER, S D DURHAM, ;V “ii* •. x c. A^mithisD, GREENE MOORE, T H SMITH, B E SPENCER, J R PARKER, R lIURLBERT, J F WRIGHT, /A THOtfNTQN, ilf F FOSTER, On motion pf W A Lofton, Esq., Solicitor General, it is ordered that the loregoing Presentments be pub llshed in accordance with the request of the Grand Jurv A true extract Irom the minutes, this 3d April 1858 VINCENT SANFORD? cierk. Notice to Town Tax-Payers, Vp Commissioners for JLJ* the I own of Penfield, all defaulting Tax-payers are h ueby notified that executions will be issued against all who do not pay within ten days. B April 8, 1858 J AMES Armstrong, Clerk. A LL persons are forewarned against trading fdr*a miif ole -ru 53 held b y franklin Moori against myseit. Ihe considerations for which the note given having failed, I decline paying it. April 8, 1358 IF. IF. DURHAM. M’OTlCE.'—' j Iwo months after date, application will be made to the Court of Ordinary of Newton couipy sot leave to sell the west half of lot No. 2401 irt the 1 ith district of Henry'county, belonging to. the ti tate of Thomas Beall, late of Newton county, decer rod. April 8,1858 SHELLY DOWNS, Ad^r.