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LITERARY gtfupame dtrusalf J PFiNFIELD, GSOHGX/1. I LINCOLN VEAZEY, JSsesm “Thursday morning, april 29,1053. BIOGRAPHY has of late years received more than any other class of writing. Almost half the books that have been published in this country during the last decade are of a biographical form; and from its decided popu larity with the reading public, we may suppose there will be no diminution for the future. 7/hen a from slight acquaintance with him self that he is not a philosopher, and learns by bitter experience that ho is not a poet, he turns to writing either novels or biography. Some, un fortunately for the cause of truth, make a com mingling of the two, and thus produce a class of works which no one can fully beliove or wholly discard. Did every one who undertakes to write biogra phy entertain proper notions of what it requires, ttfere would be much fewer scribblers in this field; for is*is far from being one of inviting aspect to an indolent student. Much laborious work should be done before a line is written. Records are to be consulted, authorities examined, all po6- sable information gleaned from every source and facts eliminated from the mass of hearsays and traditions by which they are obscured. These rcseai’clies should Bb made wivh a patient zeal, carefully restrained from rising into enthusiasm. When all this lias been done, (and it is indispen sible to the production of a work of any worth,) the biographer may begin to study lIOW lie nifty present these facts in the most impressive man lier. That few have the pmdence and industry ■to undergo this labor, is ft lamentable fact which may be assigned as a cause for the comparative rarity of excellence in works of this class. , Critics express an endless diversity of opinion as to what is a good biography. All are agreed, however, that it is much more difficult to write the history of a life unmarked by events, than of one full of incidents. The reason is obvious. ’ Any pne could scribble long chapters about Na poleon, because there is much to be told; but to write three large volumes about a man, the greatest event of whose life was a visit to a market -town a score of mile3 from his home, requires much ingenuity and high powers of invention. u demands that kind of skill which can throw a charm around the most trivial incident and make i-evelsiious from the soul-history of the man. When such powers as those aro brought to the tusk, the memoirs of one who has passed his days ill quiet seclusion, “far from the noisy crowd’s ignoble strife,” may be rendered as entertaining .as those of the warrior or statesman. Tho truth is, there aro multitudes of biogra tints written which can be neither of interest or profit to the world. Many of them are tokens of affection with which tho surviving seek to honor the memory of the dead. This is an indulgence of individual frelings at public expense. If Smith feels proud that his friend or relative has spent a life of usefulness and honest industry, he is at .liberty to write an epitaph of any length and iiave it inscribed on his tombstone. But he should not insist upon every one to read three hundred pages of fatiguing nonsense about what the poor man did, and what he did not do. In reading such a book, we generally have our res pect for the subject diminished at every page; and at its conclusion, we are unable to decide which has tho larger share of our contempt, the hero or the author. * is a quality so rare in biography, that ft * s nevcr expected. Even her more staid Ind di Tniricd sistev - History, ofton ver Y PevcoP tiblyttinctured by hero adoration, national pre judice or P art Y B P irit - Eut most b 5o £ ra P hers begin their work with the deliberate design of finding much 10 praise and little to condemn. It is not wonderfu. 1 ’ then, that many of the per amages which they describe are more like the fancy-drawn pictures Ot a romance than the truth ful portraits of reality. life written by an avowed those whose claim to greatneU 3 the unanimous verdict of tho world has a,ckm.''wledged, could they arise from their graves, woi' ld bo moved with just indignation at the injustie* 9 nave received from their well-meaning admift >rs * Biographers are much more apt to be too pro lix than too concise; indeed, we know of no vr° rk Yin which this latter fault prevails. Asa general rule, if a man’s history can oo told in half-a-doaen j pages, it is best told in that space. When mixed ‘up with hundreds of pages ot tho writer s senti * mental reflections, it loses all its pithiness and moral force. Some authors seem determined at the outset to write a book of a ejertain size; and 1 hence, lay under contribution every kind of mat . ter that Will swell its bulk. The Life of Dr. Johu eon, by Boswell, that “ Prince of Biographers, ,r is very diffuse without being very tedious; but there are few men whoso every word and action could be thus minutely described without creating dis gust- _ gusu The biographies of boiu© men are necessarily histories of the times in which they lived. The drama which they acted on the world’s stage can not be represented without the introduction of a multitude of other characters. Thus, a life of Cromwell would be a. history of the civil war in England; that of Washington, of the war of American Independence; thakof Bonaparte, of the French Revolution. He who would attempt such works on a less expended scale, would mey ’ itably mar their beauty and detract from their completeness. Os some other men, the biogra phies would have nothing to do with any save a very limited number within the immediate cir cle of their influence. Some great geniuses, who really deserve that their words and deeds should be published, have revolved for the whole period of their lives in nut shells, beyond which they were never known. He who shall write a history of the life of Samuel Rogers, extending as it did over more than nine-tenths of a century, will have little occasion to mention the great actors who played important parts during that time. He will have to tell of the gay, sportive fancy and good-humored wit which rendered, his Breakfast table a scene of intellectual feasting, and describe the bright coterie of poets that were wont to as semble there. Autobiographies fire rare; yet, sufficiently nu merous to authorize their recognition as a class of literary productions. None have ever attained even a medium rank in point of merit. They Are either the immediate offspring of inordinate self-love, or betray bo much of that principle as to render them worthless as histories. They are written with the express view of forestalling the Y opinion of the world, with regard to the charac ter of the writers, and, of course, anything like truthfulness or candor cannot be expected. It is a matter for our wonder and regret, that some who possessed talents much above mediocrity have been induced by egotism oi* vanity to leave tp the world their estimate of themselves. None,'how ever, have failed to produce a more unfavorable impression than they would otherwise havAdone. To posterity, the biographer 3b under a far greater weight of responsibility than the histo *2* D - 089 Ixm to describe r Atonal | and record national glory, while the other has to I deal with individual character alone. From the I vast number of names that crowd tho historic | P R gc, the reader may select his own model by which to shape his conduct, while the deeds of the wickod speak the language of warning. But the biographer must hold up to view for admira tion or contempt a'single personage. If ho is recreant to his duty; if he bestows praise where it is undeserved, and thus presents the example of the vicious ns worthy ©f imitation, thereby be getting a thirst for fame without virtue, he will have a fearful penalty to pay, when arraigned at the bar of eternal justice. —■— We return our thanks to Hon. Joshua Hill for tho copies of a number of speeches. The weather, since Thursday last, has been un pleasantly cool, and two or three mornings there were slight frosts. About 3 o’clock on Sunday evening, a cold rain set in, which continued with but little intermission, until twelve the following day. At the time of writing, (Tuesday morning,) there is a promise of clearing off, and we hope spring will soon resume her sway. The Augusta papers announce the death of Ed ward Garlick, an old and much esteemed citjzen of Burke county. lie had been Clerk of the In ferior Court of that county for a long term of years, and had held tho oftfee of Ordinary since its creation. ©■■— ■ —— The Southern Cultivator, is edited with an ability equal, if not superior, to any similar journal in our country. Its columns are always filled with matter appropriate to the season. Published by W. S. Jones, Augusta, Ga., at SI.OO a-year. Crockett, the principal in the murder of Landrum, vrliich occurred near Atlanta a couple of weeks since, has been airested. lie was taken near Talledega, Ala. by the officers who pursued him, and has acknowledged liis guilt, making a full confession of all the circum stances. It seems that they knew nothing of Landrum, and the only motive for attacking him was to get his money, which, when obtained, they found amounted to only jifty-fivc cents. Sueh an atrocious Set of cold-blooded villany should be punished with all the rigor of the law. Perim a small island in the Straits of Babel Mandeb, is just at this time one of the most important points on the globe. It is owned by the Ottoman Government, but has been occupied for several years by the English, who are inter ested in holding it, as it is an impassable barrier to the canal route contemplated by the French, across the Isthmus of Suez, flie French Govern ment is now engaged in negotiations with, both the British and Turkish Governments to effect its abandonment by the former; and it is thought by thoso who have read tho signs of the times, that a continued occupation by the British will produce a rupture between tho two powers, which were latelyjoined in such a close league of amity. - TnE Fly Leaf, the neat little periodical, pub lished by the senior class of College Temple, New nan, Ga., has been changed from a semi-annual to ft quarterly. It has suffered no 1033, either in the beauty of its mechanical execution, or the chase tastefulness of its literature, by the shor tened time in which it has been gotten up. AVe are gratified to know that the young ladies have met with sueh encouragement in their efforts, as to authorize this change. A bill has passed both houses of the Maine leg islature in relation to marriage, which repeals the existing law, and requires that parties'intending marriage shall deposit a notice ot their intention with the clerk of the towns in which they respec tively reside, and he to enter the same in a book kept for that purpose—said notice to remain on file five days; at the end of which time, it no legal objections are interposed, the clerk can issue a certificate, when the parties can bo mar ried. Tuts may be as unpopular among the masses, as another Maine Lazo has ,beeh proven to be; but we nevertheless think it calculated to produce some desirable results. It would, without a doubt, prevent many hasty, ill-advised and ruinous matches, and render the instances of filial diso bedience in the matter of marriage far less fre quent. EXTENSIVE reading is antagonistic, rather than promotivc of independence of thought. Few persons will peruse books winch are known to combat their previously formed opinions, and accordingly, they seldom fail to adopt what they read. It is from this cause that the whole world has become divided, in this respect, into only two classes —leaders and followers. A few master jninds do all the thinking for the human race. There is an ease in following which renders it always preferable to indolent spirits. Opposition requites an amount of energetic labor, which none but those who have strong wills of their own ever undertake. There are researches to be made, investigations to bo instituted and all the argu ments brought up whieli will give to their reason ing the stronger appearances. With many, too, there is a distrust of their own judgment. Peo ple who think and reason for themselves, seldom become bigots. - They know so well the dimness of the light by which they are guided and the uncertainty of each step, that they are little dis posed to blame others for not adopting their opinions. Had men in all ages have thought for themselves, history would have been saved the foul stain which bigotry has loft on her pages. There is a pleasure in independent thought which, were it not a duty, would render it still desirable, ft relieves one of those multiform vacillat ions and waverings to which those who are dependent on others for their opinions, are always subject. A man who relics upon his judg ment may bo often erroneous, but seldom incon sistent. What is his opinion on a given subject to-day, will be no less his opinion to-morrow, or next month or next year. For this, he will be just as apt to give a good reason as if he had read a dozen volumes to strengthen his position. We would not discourage reading. It is the duty of all to read, as it is a species of mental training which nothing else can supply. But one should not rely exclusively on this means of im provement. Thinking is more indispensable than reading, and does far more toward giving the fully developed proportions tp ; the mind which its Creator designed it should attain. J. Charlton, of Georgia, has been appointed an Assistant Surgeon in the U. S. Navy. ** , jggr-The chairs of the New Hall of Representa tives, at Washington cost S7O each and the desks S9O each. H§gThpi deposits in the New York banks are about two millions larger than ever before known. The amount of specie is $31,530,000. — ®gpA man in Chicago, worth $20,000, who also owns five houses on Milwaukee avenue bias seven or eight girls in his employ, begging and steal ing. .. g2gTTexß papers represent the cotton crop in that State, as very promising, except in some lo calities where the Grasshoppers have committed serious ravages on the young plant. THE amount of wisdom comprised in a single short sentence is often a .matter for pur won der a'nd admiration . This is exemplified by those maxims which havo obtained currency in all ages and among all nations, and which acquire addi tional authority as they grow older. Short and pithy, they gain a ready hold on the memory, and thus become “ household words ” even among the uneducated classes. In tho North _British Re vkw ia anpssay oh the’subject of Proverbs —from which we make an extract ot a paragraph about Utterance aad TJnderatfiadiag. A Tho gift of utterance does not always accompany j the gift of understanding. Although, there may be exceptional instances, like the merry mon arch, - * “ Who novsv said a foolish thing, . . And ne.vor.diJ a wise one ;” we have no doubt that most people havegotmoro wisdom in their heads than they have ever been able to put into their wordsr There are many who pas- through li e judiciously, usefully, hon orably, who have’ never uttered one memorable saying.’ Mute sages, dumb philosophers, saints dwelling in eilence, they let their light shine, and they manage their affairs with discretion, but they give forth no oracle3. Hereafter they will be re membered, not for the good things they have done. It will be their “works,” not their words, which will “follow them.” ‘ Such practical men, however, are often quick in recognizing their-own principles of action when enunciah. and bv Others; and whether it be a forci ble observation in a sermon, a pithy sentence in a play, or a happy hit in the harangue of a pub lic speaker, they hail with delight a maxin, in I which their own minds ai*e‘ so vividly reflected, and which exhibits so well the relatione of their Own procedure. “That man speaks sense,” is their instant response to the saying which gives a key to so many of their own actions, and the truth of which a life time’s experience enables them to countersign. “It is just what I myself have often thought,” and not without of certain self-complacency, they, treasure up tho dictum, and procure from, time to time its portable and much-comprehending phyloscphy. For purposes oT instruction, we think few form3 of speech more admir; bly adapted. We fully concur with the writer in regard to Proverbs in the Pulpit, At this moment we do not recollect having ever heard a proverb quoted in the pulpit—those of Scripluro excepted, and even them but rarely. In one respect, this is well. So far as it is tho ob ject of sanctuary services to edifv the devout, an‘d raise to an an eleuation, still higher mindsalready spiritual, it is hardly possible to keep at too great a distance all that savors of this poor world — its shabby ways, and its low concerns. But this is the only end of pulpil ministrations. Most of the sermons to which it has been our lot to listen, have been addressed to thoso that aro “without,” rather'than to thoso that are “•within.” Tho preacher evidently assumed that quite as many of his hearers were careless or unconverted as Christian; and with this assumption, we have sometimes thought that tho object of the earnest speaker might have been all the better gained by an occasional descent to their own level — by speaking to them not in theological phraseology, but in tho vernacular language of the country, and by drawing facts and Illustrations, not so much from a region which, alas 1 ia to the unbeliever little more than a Utopia, but from objects which their own eyes havo seen and their own hands have handled; as well as by founding ar guments or inferences, not on propositions which they dimly comprehend, but on premises which they themselves concede. In such a case, where for the Jifbment, the preacher merges the pastor in the evangelist or missionary, he could not find better precedents than the addressee delivered long ago on the hills of Galilee and in Roman court houses; and where, from aceo ; ted axioms and experiences of their own, stepping-stones were constructed to aid doubters or disbelievers in their passage over to the realms of faith. Hap pily and wonderfully, counterparts to the things unseen are on every sido of us—at cur feet and in our hands; and a wise steward will, from time to I time, bring out of his treasure new examples; i and no less happily, traces of the Divine auto- ! graph still remain, on the ruined tables of man’s ! heart, and doubt mingled with much error) j these fragments of primeval ethics float about in the proverbs, of all nations; and, whether express ly quoted or indirectly indicated, few proofs should be more cogent than the coincidence of the voice from heaven with the still small voice within. The case should be very clear when the light of revelation first pointed out; and it is not easy for the self-condemned judge to escape, when tho parable reaches its moral, and disclo ses, “Thou art the man !”- Rev. Dr: Kidder and Rev. J. C. Fletcher, are the joint authors of a work lately published on Brazil and the Brazilian p in which is found a fine description of A South American Forest. “ In the months of April and May (October and j November in Brazil), only the autumnal tints of our gorgeous North American woods can compare with the sigiit of the forest of the Serra dosOrgoee. Then the various species oi’ the Lauras are bloom ing, and the atmosphere is-loaded with the rich perfumes of their tiny snow-white blossoms. The Cassia then put forth their millions of golden flow ers, while, at the same time, huge trees—whose native names would be more unintelligible, though less pedantic,.than t heir botanic terms of Sasian dra Fontanesia and others of tiie Melastoma tribe— are in lull bloom ; and, joining rich purple to the brightest yellow, present together with gorgeously clotned shrubs, * flowers of more mingled hue j than her (Iris’s) purpled scarf can show.’ From time to time, a silk cotton tree (the Chorisia -spe ciosa) shoots up its lofty hemispherical, top covered with thousands of beautiful large rose-coloured blossoms, which gratefully contrast with the masses of vivid green, purple and'yellow, that clothe the surrounding trees. Floral treasures are heaped on every side. Wild vine3, twisted into most fantastic forms, or hanging in graceful festoons—passion flowers, trumpet flowers, and fuchsias in their native glory, tree ferns whoso ele gance of form is only surpassed by the tall, gently curved palmetto, winch is the very embodiment of the line of beauty—orchards, whose flowei'3 are of as soft a tint as the blossom of the peach-tree, or As brilliant as red spikes of fire, curious and ec centric epiphytes draping naked rocks, oi the de caying branches of o’d” forest monarchs, all form a scene enrapturing to the naturalist; and bewil dering, with its richness, to the unitiated, who stilt appreciate the bcauty'and the spendor that are scattered on every side, by the Hand Divine. The overpowering sensation which one experien ces, when entering an extensive conservatory Tilled with the choicest plants, exotics of the rar est description, and odour-laden flowers, is that (multiplied a thousand fold,) which filled my mind as 1 gazed, for the first time, upon a land scape, with its tiers of mountains, robed in such di apery as that described'above; and yet there was such a feeling of liberty, incompatible with the sensation expressed by the word ‘overpower ing;’ tha tit is impossible to define it. In the pro vince of M'mas Gcraes, from a commanding point, 1 once beheld the magnificent forest in bloom; and as the hillsand undulating plains stretched far away to the horizon, they seemed toi be enveloped in a fairy mist oi pprplg and of gold.” ¥IIO can read the following extract from one of Spurgeon’s Sermons without admitting that he is possessed of pulpit eloquence of the highest order. It,is on The Beginning. f “ Can any one tell me when the beginning was ? Yeats ago we thought the beginning of this world was when Adam came upon jt, but, we have dis covered that thousands of years before that, God was preparing chaotic matter to ihuke it a fit abode for man ; putting races of creation upon it, who might die and leave behind the traces of Hi handiwork and marvellous skill before He tried His hand upon man. But this was not the beginning; for revelation points us to a per kM ere this world was fashioned-to the days when the morning stars wore begotten ; when like uvop? of dew from the fingers of the morning, stars and constellations fell trickling from the hand of God ; when by His own lips Ha launched forth ponderous orbs, when with His own hand He sent comets like thunderbolts, wandering through tile sky to find one day their proper sphere. W e go back to years gone by, when worlds were mad® and Systems fashioned, but we have not even ap proaefed the beginning yet/, • , Ui#l wo go to the time when all the Universe sfoplfn the mind of God, as yet unborn, until wo entjf the eternity where God, the Creator, lived alo® ( everything sleeping with Him, all creation rea flF£ * n Hie mighty gigantic thought w© have not guessed the beginning. We may go back, if may use such strange words, whole eternities and yet never arrive at the beginning. Our wing, might be tired, otir imagination would die away. Gould it out-strip the lightning’s flash in majesty and rapidity, it would soon weary itself ©ro it eould get tojthe beginning. But God from the be ginning choose His people ; when the navigated other was yet unfanned by the -wing of a single angle, wheir s' t ace was cheerless oy else unborn, when Universal silenee reigned, and not a voice or whisper checked the solemnity of silence, when there was no being and no motion, and naught but God Himself, alone in His eternity ; when without the song of an angel, without the ‘ attendance of oven the cherubim; long ore the! jiving creatures were born, or the wheels of the chariot of Jehovah were fashioned ; even then, in the beginning was the Word, and in the begin ning God’s people were one with the Word, and ‘in the beginning he chose them unto eternal life.’” y nett proceeds of Mr. Everett’s Wash ington Oration in Charleston, were one thousand seven hundred and eighty-one dollars and forty eight cents—and of his Charity Oration, six hun dred and thirty-seven dollars and nine cents. a€?*Thc Press, the Pulpit and the Petticoat: The,first spreads the news ; the second religion : and the last spreads —all over the pavement. fgyLook not mournfully into the past—it can not retnrri. Wisely improve the, present— it i3 thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart. figyGovernor Powell and Major McCullough, the Utah Peace Commissioners, or rather the-per sons sent by the President to counsel and advise with military Commanders in Utah, arrived at St. Louis on the 16th inst, on their way to the army under Col. Johnston. ’ a@~Tho Alexandria Ornette speaking of the sale of Mount Vernon to the Ladies’ Mount Ver non Association says that SIB,OOO of the purchase money has been paid in cash. Mr. Washington retains possession until a payment of $75,000 is made which will probably take place in a few months. HTTlie growing wheat crop throughout tho mighty west is described as being very promising. A large breadth of land was sown, and if no dis aster occurs to it before harvest timo, the crop will be immonse. All of our Tennessee exchan ges represent the growing wheat crops in their respective countios as being exceedingly promis ing- js@**Houses in the centre of London adapted to tho occupation of professional gentlemen, and containing from twelve to sixteen rooms, with water conveyed by pipes to the various apart ments, and other modern conveniences, rent for two hundred and fifty dollars. The samo ionises, if pleasantly situated in Augusta, would command a rent from five tb seven hundred dollars, JSSgfO. A. Lochrane and John H. Steele havo both retired from the Editorial management ot the Atlanta Intelligencer & Examiner. J. W. Duncan is now Editor and proprietor. SST’G. A. Miller, Esq., has retired from the editorial chair of the Columbus Enquirer, and is succeeded by John 11. Martin, Esq. A Fair Portion. —Carrie A. Clark thus writes to the Louisville Journal : I bring thee a heart, love—a stainless heart, As fresh and as pure as the mountain’s snow. Still echoing back, with a cheerful strain, Tho song you taught it long ago. f Tie an humble thing, ‘ The gift I bring— Yet, my all, mv fortune and my store, And I bring it thee—l can bring no more. A man may as well expect to grow stronger by always eating, as wiser by always reading. Too much overcharges nature, and turns more into disease than nourishment. It is thought and di gestion which makes books serviceable, and gives health and vigor to the mind. Books well chosen neither dull the appetite nor stain the memory, but refresh the inclinations, strengthen the pow ers, and improve under experiments.'’ By reading, ft man, as it were, antedates his life, and makes himself contemporary with past ages. Always suspect a man who affects great softness of manner, and unruffled eveness of temper, and an enunciation studied, slow and deliberate. These things are unnatural, and bespeak a degree of mental discipline into which he that has no purpose of craft or design to answer, cannot sub mit to drill himself. The more successful knaves are usually of this description— as smooth as ’ razors dipped in oil, and as sharp. They effect the innocence of the dove which they have not, in order to hide the cunning of theserpent which they have. All things have some kind olj, standard, by which the natural goodness of them is to be measured. We do not therefore esteem a ship to be good, because it is curiously carved, painted and gilded, but because it is fitted for all the pur pose of navigation, which is the propper end of a ship. It should bo so likewise in our esteem of men, who are not so much to be valued for the grandeur of their estates or titles as by their in ward goodness and excellence. It is with men as with trees; if you lop off their finest branches, into which they wero pouring their young life-juice, the wounds will be healed over with some rough b 033, some odd excrescence; and what might havo been a grand tree, expand ing into liberal shade, is but a whimsical, mis shapen trunk. Many an,irritating fault, many an unlovely oddity has come of a hard sorrow, which bn3 crushed and maimed the nature just when it was expanding into plenteou3 boauty, and the trival, erring life, which we visit with our harsh blame, may be but the unsteady motion of a man whose best limb is withered. — Black wood ‘ “Titat Will Do.”— “That will do,” is a phrase of modern invention. The ancients knew of no such expression, or the Egyptians would never have raised the pyramids, nor the Greeks and Rom anß displayed that love of the beautiful which led them to - impart a poetic grace even to the meanest utensils for household use, as tho re mains of Pompeii fully testify. “Thatwilldo,” is the excuse of mediocrity, un able to soar to better things. “That will do,” is the pelf-dispensation given by the lazy painter, who glosses over the want of anatomical correctness by a showy color ng. “ That will do,” is the besetting sin of archi tects, who lay their shortcoming to the want of a favorable site, or an Italian’ clime. “ That will do,” applied to household matters is equally bad, and more annoying to friends than when applied to dress. You may expect ill-cooked dinners in any house where the heads adopt this maxim. “That will do,” has conjured up a hostol inef ficient teachers. - “ That will do,” is tho enemy to all excellence, and would sap the conscience of the most virtu ous man alive; if ho hearkened to its dictates. Moralists and others must bear in mind that noth ing will “ do” but the very best point of virtue, or they wilLrun risk when the great day of reck oning shall come, and the recording angel will not say in their favor—-” That will do!”— Arthur's Home Magazine. Too many persons seem to use their relig’on as a diver does his bell, to venture down into the depths of worldlinobS with safety, and there grope for pearli? with just as much of heaven’s air as will keep them from suffocating, and no more; and Borne, alas 1 as is at times the case with divers i are euffotated in the experiment, ! OH. OI <303 SFJTJEpTIONS. j • > 0 HE RIVER.” , ‘VI i Tha following beaufifai and paflictic ponm is worthy : of bornv committed to foemory. you rood if with ! OUt Wtif* f L 4 T ‘ “ ‘’ \ -• • ,-j Over {he rival- they to ms— Loved one’s wly ye crossed to the further awe; The gleam ottMir .snowy robes Lsee, ’ - ,’ i But their veiwa are lo3t by the dashing tide. There's ose rvith ringlety of sunny gold,- ’And eyes, ilie reflection of Heaven’s own blue; He. crossed injrbe twilight gray and cold, And the pale mist him from mortal view. We sa.y not the angels .that met hinuthcre. The gjite ofthe city vve'coula not see ; Over the river, over the river, My -brother stands writing to .welcome me ! Ovcr-the riyei-the boatman pirle Carried another, the household pet; Her brown curls, wjtved in the gentle gale— Darling Mintaie! I sec her j et! Lhe crossed on her bosom ser dimpled hands. . And fearlessly entered the phantom bark : We .watched if- glide from the silver sands. And nil our sunshine grow strangely dkrk. _ We know she in sole on the further side, Where ail the ransomed apd angels be: Over the river, the mystic fiver, My childhood’s idol is waitingior me. Lor none, return from those quiet shores Who cross with the boatman cold and pale; We hear the dip ofthe golden oars, Anulo ! they have passed from our yearning hearts; -They cross the stream and are gone fsr bye ; Wc may not sunder the veil apart That hides from our vision the gates of day. We only know that their barks no more May nail with us o’er fifes stormy sea, “ Yet somewhere. I know on the unseen shore, They watch and beckon, and wail for me! And I sit and think when the sunset’s gold- - Ts flushing river, and hill, and shore, I sliall one day stand bv the water cdhl, And list for the sound oi the boatman’s onr, I shall watch fora gleam of the flapping sail ; I shall liear the boat as it gains the strand ; I shill pas from Sight wi'h the boatman pale. To the better shore of the spirit land. I shall know the loved who have gone before. And joyfully mveet will the meeting be. When ovQrtho river, the peaceful river, The Angel of Death shall carry me. [Peterson 1 s Ma/satiine. fleag o tiio Absent BY It. VIRGINIA FRENCH. “ O’er the far blue mountain. O’er the dark sea foam ; Come thou “long parted one, Come to thy hoiije.” My Love, when you are far away. Some shadow from a mlaty sphere Hangs o’er the“ Indian summer” day— - It could not fall if you were hero, I look abroad—the autumn trees Like banners to the sky are tost, And thro’ them sweeps the lonelv breeze. And sigh, as if .for ecfttcthitig lost. And when the stars come at night I gaze into tho twilight skies, Ah’t id my wont lo sock the light” Os love within your darkening oye?. When sblily. sweet affect ion’s beams -■> Steal upward fro n their-deeps afar. And glow to mine, until it ecejna Within them God Inis lit a star! Then when I ary my childlike prayer With low-bowed heart, and bended knee, I turn —co su-rq to. find you there— And start, and wonder can it bo That I in vain at close of day Have listened for your foot Maps free, Th- t you arc sleeping far away,’ So far from love, and home, and me. Thro’ the still chrtml c’ sos my soul Your voice, with feeling warm and deep, Re-echos, tit its sweet control Like music lulls my balmy sleep. Then in the land of dreamt* how oft My hand is fond clasped in thine, While round me ever, close and soft, Thy strong;, protecting arms entwine. My hand is on your brow and cheek, That touch you now- so well may ken. And little words I have to speak, “Os love and joy—l say them then. And wild dove in her downy nest Beneath the forest’s sheltering dome. No lira If so sweetly sinks to rest As I —upon thy bosom’s home. •—••• .—c —- J ~ A writer in the Kew York Gazette. describing a melting with sfevorai of Britain’s gifted literati, “draws the Mousing picture of the gifted Tom Moore: ■ Moore is much younger than I expected to find him. I dont know his ago, and if 1 did, I might not be disposed tq name it,hero. I have never •seen an engraved likeness of him, or any other representation that would have enabled me (as in‘the ease of Willington. or Brougham) to pick him out of crowd at first sight, lie is a_ small sized, dapper handy” -personage—a smiling, L would almost say a laughing expression of coun tenance,with a fanny eye, on Irish nosfe—a Mili sian turn up—rather a retreating forehead, and, ; but for a .peculiar line from tho brow above the temple, ami running back to the hair upon this ; part of the head \ “ the dome of thought and pal- : ace of the mind,” one would bo at a loss to trace phrenological indications of the genius Which marks him as tho first Lvric. .Boot of the age. But there he. sat, cuttfing muffins, cracking jokes and sipping tea—chatting find laughing, and apparently totally unconscious t hat his fingers had scratched on paper lines and sentiments which had been read and sung, and would continue to bo rend and sung, in all quarters of Urn world so long as language end sentiment, thought, feeling and music, contribute to human happiness and so cial enjoymtnt. Ass'l sat next him. 1 looked at him —1 watched the very twingling of his eye—tire tone of his voice, .and the motions of his writing fingers: and I sometimes found myself perplexed and con fused in themingled feelings of doubt and surprise, that from this little budget of unassuming humani ty, flowed that stream of conception, thought and feeling, which finds its way to all hearts in our climes—from tho Canadian Boat Song on the St. Lawrence, to the Vale of Cashmere £oni,-Horst's.— There arc apartments in the soul which have a glorious look-out; from whose windows you can see across the river of death, and into the shining city beyond ; but how often are these neglected for the lower one, which have earthward-1001-ing windows. There is the apartment of Veneration. Its ceilings are fres coed with angels, ancl all exquisite carvings adorn its walls; but spiders have covered the angel ceiliun and (lust has settled on the delicate mouldings. The man does not abido there. The door of ‘Consciousness is rusted so it cannot be onenod Hopobaslmtone downward-looking win dow, and Faith and Worship are cold and cheer lggj. these arc shut up in most soul-houses. In the lower apartment you shall hear in some not and wassail—for the passions never keep bent, but- are always holding Carnivals—and m others siens and lamentations of wounded hopes, and in others the groaning of disappointed ambition, and in others bickerings and strifes, while in 0.-hei tivtro are sleep and stupidity. Bcecl i*- rwnumm:*a a Wife.—Raikes tell thisstory in hl£™rJlqwl <•* on ol I the Duke is married to a handsome wife, and bothai-e sincere Iv attached to each other. The other night they had dressed for a ball to winch they were invited, and the moment ol departure made her appearance in such a bqwih h iigffitU and looking eo that the Husband wm seized witu ftof jealously, and without any ie. un,, n.- or ill will to his wite.hu! merely 4.0-pie,oit others from the enjoyment of such a sight, 0 ‘ er > , liberalely tore her gown lit pieces hom hei bacK. Mtmv English ladies would have sued foi a sc t oration. 1 asked how the young Frenoh Marque* bore tlie disappointment, I lie answer v\ as- he was llattored beyond measure and proud of this proof of her husband’s admiration, and in i apt, said the narrator, “ there was something beauti ful and sublime in this flash of sentiment, i had so little poesy in my nature that it strucK me as very ill-bred, cruel, and exceedingly 6 fi3h. “dlollo Brittan,”’ the lively travelling corres pondent of the New Orleans Picayune, in a recent letter thus refers to Mobile: At half past ten o’clock A. M., wc landed at Mobile—t? pleasant cotton city of some thirty thousand inhabitants—where the people Uvq in cotton houses—ride in cotton carriages. They buy cotton, sell cotton, think cotton, oat cotton, drink cotton, dream cotton, iney marry cotton wives, and unto them are born cotton children. In enumerating the charms of a fair widow, they begin by saying she makes so many bales cotton. It Is the great staple—the sum and substance of Alabama. It hoe made Mobile and all it* citi iaeae. j * | TdARMER’S COLU3VTN. y, r 11 ■ -r-——- s*■ ‘ cotMjiGeoiAi, ; . -yu, April -23, 4, P. M.-COTTON.—Th dav loot 267 bales, at the following p&rtrc :- • .at9:l2atlo i;53 nt 10J; satl2; 85 at 12* ; *• t/. .1: lebis at 12a cents. The accounts per Canada -•• My. ;. roCoived until after the close of business • is-u t. Y7e continue'our quotations of yesterday : Cs&stssrojf, April 23. — COTTON — The transac ts; - • 100ted.2. 3.50 bales, as fellows;. 14 at 10*; 58 at l&h Aio at 11; 275 nt 113 ; 36 at Hi ; 86 at 114; 31 at 18,?*$$'St lyl ; 55at Kg* 221 at 12*; 70 at 124; 116 ta m ; 190 at Lif; and 583 hales of Middling Fair at 13 cents. - *, ‘ * ; A:?C‘7im. April 27.—COTTON.—Sales to-day 364 t; -v tv. prices qs follows: Sat 9; lat 9*; Sat 12; 14 r t-;i at 11*; 21 at 11$; sat 111; 57" at 12; 3at lIBH ■/;” tit 12j-i 13 at 124 cents. Receipts 451 bales. —— ——* ■ ■ -- J/erseers and tation Management. Dr Cloud —Dear Sir: —Permit me to introduce ihjryslftp you, by informing you that I have been an att&Ativo vender of your valuable journal for ssyevalyears. Our State Agricultural paper, the Flarder and Mechanic ; has also received a share of such as I could spare from the business of the plantation. My own experience in the business ; of overseeing, and the little time 1 have been able to give io the reading of agricultural papers hqa i taught me the utility of these works to those who • i; follow the business of overseeing. I would there ! fore recommend to all employers to furnish their i overseers with one.,or two papers of this kind, i The cost is small, and men are apt to take most interest in reading such matter as concerns the I business in which they are engaged. Although book s alone cannot teach a man the business of f planting, yet a good agricultural paper will give every overseer many useful hints in plantation bus iness during the year, if he will readfit with atten tion. I have been overseeing for sixteen years—* fouiteen years in this county, and most of the time in the prairie lands. When I came to Mis sissipi I found that the overseer who could have the most cot ton bales ready for market by Christ mas, was considered best qualified—consequently every overseer gave bis whole attention to cotton bales, to the exclusion of everything else. Six years ago I commenced business for my present employer. His first request was that pro visions in abundance should be made on the plan* 1 tation—corn, meat, &c-—to provide means of liv in< well; ond then, what cotton could be made ! with duo allowance for the care of the property. He wanted his negroes taken care of, and espec i iaily the young negroes. His motto was to take , ‘tare of what he had as the surest way of getting rich. ; Os course I had to change my mode of doing bus ! iness : for I had been one of the cotton bale over seers, because most of the planters wanted large Crops of cotton, and this was the standard by which, they judged of the merits of an overseer. ! For tho last six years I have been trying to be ; a fanner. I had to turn my attention to corn, ! hogs, potatoes, pumpkins, and garden veg- I ©tables; to taka care of and raise little negroes. W e have women to cook for them, and due at tention is given to their cleanliness and comfort. Under this treatment we seldom lose one, and have nearly a3 many about the houses as in the field ; always providing them with plenty to eat —bread', meat, vegetables and molasses. The field liapds have not loss than four, and sometimes Jive pounds of clean meet per week, for each hand, Ono-third of this is given to the t ock every day to be boiled for their dinners, with plenty of vegetables; the remaining two thirds they either cook for themselves, or oarry it to the cook to bo prepared for them. It is made the duty.of two women to wash on every Friday for all the negroes; and by the use of the Knuck klo wa -’iiivg machine, they can wash for all on the plantation in ono day. Wo have hut little Doctor’s bills to pay, and have not lost a field hand in the six years from disease. ‘ The following is the number of bales of cotton made, and tho quantity of pork raised to the hand each year—-bales averaging 500 pounds; let year, B bales cotton and 400 lbs. pork. 2d “ 5 i: ‘ “ 900 “ fid “ 5.J “ 900 “ 4th “ 10 “ “ “ 800 “ sth “ 7* “ “ “ 750 “ “ 6th b il “ “ 700 “ The sale of the surplus of corn, fodder, meat, potatoes, &c., has contributed much towards de fraying the expenses of the plantation. The lim its, of this sheet will not permit me to give all the details. The average yield of cotton for the six years is not extraordinary, nor did, the quantity of ground < o the hand exceed ten acres, except one year. But it becomes a matter for the con sideration” of planters in the Southern country, ■whether moderate crops of cotton, with good cul tivation, and a proper and diligent attention in taking care of property on plantations, will not enhance the wealth of tho planters in a greater degree, than the driving, exhausting mode of •cultivation practised in some sections of our coun try. In other words, whether more farming and less planting is not the true policy of the Southern planter. If you tlf ink this worth an insertion in your paper, you can give it a place. Very respectfully yours, Wm. H. Cook. Lowndes Count;/, Miss., 1858. Tuf, Plow.— Someone—it sounds very like Tay lor the poetical author of “January and June”— thus speaks of iho progressed this long-time prom inent and indispensable implement: “One can not fail to bo impressed with the truth that the Plow, though unqUicked by the'Telegraph, and as yet undriven by steam, has yet kept pace, strangely enough, with the progress of the age. Where are the old-fashioned affairs, with timber enough ip them to make a mill? Where is the hugoTbeam, that used to r .b many a barn of one of its chief features, and the grim old share, that it took two forges and foundries to make? The superfluous wood is hewn away ; the mass of metal has become a rare-surgical instrument in fashion and finish. Xhero is grace in the very handles; I the adze and the axe, and the old dull ‘ drawing- I knife’ that used to hang in the shed, have given ! place to the plane, the file, and sand-paper and the brush, in a word the tinker has made way for the artist, and the plow of to-day isthe pro duct thereof. We have always entertained a se cret wonder at that absurd people away in the ‘drowoy East.’ who set up one of the old-fashioned red-ochred plows that somebody was good enough to send them —set it up and warship it But we should not (yonder so much, if they should do it. now. since the plow has become a light, in fact almost mi elegant implement.” Sowing Clover. —An experienced farmer writes: Last spring'l sowed a iieid of spring wheat dragged in well; then with a hand sower, sowed on clover and timothy seod both mixed ; brushed in with a light brush and at harvest the clover was very thick, and so high that the reaper topped the most of it in cutting the g.'aip, which was a fair crop also. Persons who were used to raising clover, said they never saw a better stand the, fust year than this was. It would have been n ppod fall crop of hay ; but I pastured it, which amply paid me for the time, and seed, though I .expected to keep it for meadow. The timothy made a poor show last season. Perhaps it may come out better this year. But expeience teachee me that fall sowing is the best for timothy. White Wash.—“ Take abarrel and slack a bush el of fresh ourned lime in it, by covering the lime with boiling water. After it is slacked, add cold water enough to mako it the consistency of good white wa c m.’ Then dissolve in water and add one pound of white vitriol (sulphate of zinc) and one quart of fine Salt. Tdgive the white wash acream color,>add ono half pound yellow ochre, in pow der. To give a fawn color, add one lourth of a pound of Indian red. To make a handsome gray c-tone color add one half pound Frenoh Blue, and ono fourth of Indian red. A drab will be made by addiiig one half pound of burnt senna, and oiie fourth pound of Venitian red. For brick or stone instead of ono bushel of lime, use a half bushel ol hydraulic cement.” Scattering Salt on Apple Trees.— D. E. San born. of Andover, sends to the Editor of the Ad vertiser of that town, a specimen of Porter apples gathered from the tree on the 19th of November, which he thinks were kept on the branches throw ing salt on them. The editor after having tasted the apples, remarks that “ whether from the salting or gathering.it imbibed such a delicious flavor, wo do not know ; but this we do know, that it was one of the best apples that we have ever tested. We think the experiment worthjt urther trial.” Mode of Increasing the Potato Crop.—An English writer says, by carefully removing the buds as they appear on the potato the erop of large Ones is very much augmented. The tjfcr ory is plausible, and worthy of a fair trig).