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LITERARY cmprranrc (fritnad^r* PENPIELD, GEORGIA. ‘ TiTT/rNOQIAN VEAZEY^EDm)R Catharine M. Sims, wife of the Proprietor of the “Savannah Republican,” died on the 17 th instant. Her remains were interred in Rose-Hill Cemetery, Macon. Green Martin who was indicted for whipping a negro boy, and convicted of murder at the last term of Washington county Superior Court, but got anew trial at the Supreme Court, was tried last week and acquitted. We are requested by the corresponding Secre tary of the Planters’ Club of Hancock, to an nounce that the Annual Address before the Club, will be delivered by the Rev. Charles Wallace Howard, of Cass county, at the Fair on the 27th October next. Harper’s Magazine for October contains “ Lieut. Strain’s Ride over the Andes“ Islands and Shores of Greece“ Trial and Execution of John lluss,” and a variety of other articles suited for light reading. The little poem, “It might have been,” is a choice gem. Harper is deservedly the most popular of American monthlies. Price, $3 a-year. Those persons who are afflicted with a fond ness for applying to themselves every pointed paragraph which they read or hear, ought to be come very good, for they must be often reminded of their faults. But it seems that improvement is not always the result of “ taking things to themselves.” Some make their own applications of general remarks, and thereat get as wrathful as if they had been designed as direct personal insults. In our issue of Sept. 2d, there appeared an ar ticle on “ Music by J. 11. O.” It was so published, j under the impression that it was from the pen of! J. H. Oliphant, whose effusions have often graced ! our columns, lie requests us to state, however, ‘ that he is not the author, but that it was written ; by a young friend of his who favored him with a 1 copy, which he sent us for publication. He made I this statement, in fact, in the note which accom panied the manuscript, but being rather hurried at the time of its reception, we failed to notice it. We have received a Prospectus of the Alabama Educational Journal. This is to be a monthly pub lication of 32 pages, neatly bound, and edited by ‘ N. K. l)avis, late Professor of Natural Science in Howard College, aided by an able corps of con tributors. Trof. D. is an elegant and vigorous writer of fine literary taste, and we have no doubt, will make the Journal alike worthy of public pat- j ronage and of the great cause to which it is de- j voted. Published at Montgomery, Ala. The j price is to be? 1 a-year, in advance. Editor in the Country.—The editor of the Cincinnati Times has been in the country. He says: ‘The robins sang sweetly from the tree-tops; the cattle lowed to each other as they luxuriated among the dew-covered clover; the fields had on their gayest robes of emerald ; the brooks danced away in joy; the bob-o-links chattered in the shrubbery ; the geese waddled sedately towards their bathing places; the old oaks waved their arms in conscious strength ; the hills held up their'heads'in pride; the world blushed in beauty.” The name of Gen. Geo. P. Morris, the distin-j guished editor of the Home Journal, and the best lyric poet now living, has been mentioned in con nection with the candidacy for representative j Trom one of the congressional districts of New York. Gen. M. would, wo have no doubt, make an efficient member of our National Legislature, but we have no idea that such an event would increase his world-wide celebrity. His habits are j all too decidedly confirmed to admit of his risk ing his reputation by engaging actively in politi cal turmoil; and if he did, he is unfitted for schemes of trickery and intrigue. Wiiat Woman can do. —Some okl bachelor has indited the following specimen of masculine im pertinence. ‘ Hear him: A woman says what she likes to you without j danger of getting knocked down for it. She can i take a snooze after dinner, while her husband has to go to work. She can go forth in the streets i without being invited to treat at every coffee j house. She can paint her face if it is too pale, and flour it if too red. She can wear corsets if too thick—other fixins if too thin. She can eat, drink and be merry, without costing her a cent; and she can get divorced from her husband when she sees one she likes better. “Great Events in 1858.”—Under, this head the New York Observer ranks four things, as follow lows: 1. The Revival of Religion; the most extensive and thorough ever experienced in the L T nited States. 2. The Triumph of the American Tract Society, the greatest moral victory of truth over error achieved since the Reformation under Martin Luther. 3. The successful completion of the Electric Telegraph from Europe to America, the greatest work of human perseverance and enterprise. 4. The opening of China to the commerce of the world, free toleration of the Christian religion j throughout the empire. Pretty well for the first half ot 1858 ; what will Autumn and Winter bring forth ? Indianola Courtier has been assured that Sea Island cotton along the coast of Texas, is turning out splendid. Both in appearance and texture ■ the staple is remarkably fine, and the yield will i be large, Col. S. T. Seawell, on Matagoda Island, I has a beautiful lot of this cottton, for which he ex- j pects to get one dollar per pound. The Corpus I Christi Valley says: The picking of sea Island cotton has been com- : menced, the yield is proving abundant, besides, the staple is better than ever seen on the coast. One field, seven miles from this city, is a sight to behold—it is little less than a swamp of cotton plants borne down to the ground by their unusu al weight of bolls, now in the harvest stage. A fortune awaits those who choose to engage in the Sea Island culture in this city—the result j this season is truly marvelous. There is in the world much more ambition to ‘ be great than to be good. Many are actuated by i a desire for distinction so depraved that they j had rather be notorious than to be unknown. It j must be acknowledged, that by their manner of thinking, speaking and writing, people do much j Ao encourage this feeling. The eclat which a mean action gains, exceeds the odium. The j ““Gallant Zouave,” by conduct for which lie should have been bastinadoed, has been quite as much the theme of newspaper paragraphs as the gifted Fields who projected and brought to a successful completion the*Telegraphic Cable. Asew 7 months since, the whole civilized world were writing and talking of Rachel. And who was Rachel? A stage actress, gifted, indeed, with high talents, possessing a character which her genius could scarce save from infamy. So it is the world over. Greatness eclipses goodness, and a distinguished name often ennobles a vice and endows it with a power to blight and destroy. * CANDOR is a principle which men profess al most universally to appreciate and admire; yet, there arc few which they more seldom ex hibit. Some arc bold in expressing themselves in opposition to the dicta of public opinion; a few aro determined always to be in the opposi tion, while the great majority are plausible ; but a person sincerely and honestly candid is difficult to find. It is the caso now, and w 7 e fear has al ways been so, that deception is rewarded with a premium when successful, while that sterling in tegrity which neither bends or compromises, is reckoned at discount. True candor is most immediately opposed to deceit of all kinds, but differs not less from the garrulity which proclaims everything, and the re serve which tells nothing. It does not require a man to make a confidant of every one whom he meets, yet, it forbids him to resort to any decep tive means of concealing his opinions or princi ples. Bearing reference to man’s conduct as well as to his words, it requires that he should, in all instances, act, as well as speak the truth. Os course, then, candor implies honesty, though it is possible to imagine instances in which men may be honest without being candid. Consum mate villains sometimes assume an openness and ! familiarity of manner which passes with many for | frankness, and is regarded as an indication of ! sincerity. One has need, however, to have made j but few observations of those cases to detect the i counterfeit. There is a greater excess of honesty | in their language than their actions will sustain, ’ and sooner or later, according to the capacities of those upon whom they seek to impose the dis guise, will be discovered. Their blandness and apparent truthfulness, when once found to be de ception, only serve to render them the more con temptible. There is another class who make a great affec tation of candor by saying rough things in a rough way. Reckless of what feelings they hurt, they pride themselves on speaking the truth, and very often this vanity leads them to make harsh statements which are not true. Such conduct betrays coarseness, ill-breeding and ill-nature, but it is not candor. They who act thus are usu ally false, vacillating in their opinions, and un worthy of confidence. Between true candor and j true politeness, there is no antagonism. Candor j sometimes compels us to utter an unpleasant j truth rather than a flattering falsehood, but it never authorizes that to be spoken in a manner to inflict pain. The formal etiquette which fash ionable society has established, is all falsehood and hollowness, making deception a merit and truth fulness a crime. They are esteemed most polite who can best conceal their sentiments, and flat ter with most appearance of sincerity. So things are, but so they need not boos necessity. One can be urbane and affable in his manners, pleas ant in bis intercourse, with his associates, and manifest a kindly politeness to all, without stoop ing to flattery and deception. That this is true* we have some proofs, though it is to be regretted that the exemplifications are so exceedingly rare. Some persons think that all the principles of character receive a natural bent which cannot be directed or controlled. According to their be lief, the man who becomes a villain had, by na ture, a strong tendency in that direction, which no force of education could overcome. This no tion, absurd as it is, has been much received, and lias wrought the ruin of many. No one is a re[i robate by nature. It is habit which, forming steadily and by slow degrees, fianally becomes more unchangeable than the Ethiopian’s skin or leopard spots. Each man has at first the power of controlling his habits, and consequently each man has much to do in forming his own charac ter. Nature made him neither honest or dishon est, but left him free to become either. It should constitute a large portion of his education to form and establish good habits, and to create, strength en and sustain good principles. By such a course of training, all those virtues which beautify the character may bo made to grow in rich luxuri ance, and bring forth their fruits in no slight de gree of perfection. Among these, candor de serves and will abundantly repay our cultivating care. It commends itself to our attention, not alone by its susceptibility of improvement, but also by the advantages which it confers upon our selves and others. It will obviate the necessity of our affecting emotions which wo do not feci, and lessen our liability to imposition. Were all men candid, we might believe what they say, and not trouble ourselves to find motives different from what their words proclaim. At a recent meeting of a Pennsylvania Histor ical Society, the Corresponding Secretary, Hora tio G. Jones, read a letter written by Dr. Joseph Iv. Swift, of Easton, Penn., relating a curious in cident in the life of Benjamin Franklin: The celebrated painter, Benjamin West, before lie became known to fame, fell in love with Miss Elizabeth Shewed. West was poor; theShewells were rich. Stephen Shewell, the proud brother of Elizabeth, desired her to marry another suitor, which she refused to do. West was forbidden the bouse, but Elizabeth continued to meet him, and they were engaged to be married. The obstinate brother kept bis sister under lock and key, till West sailed for Europe to prosecute his studies. Miss Shewell, however, had prom ised to meet him in any part of Europe, and mar ry him, as soon as Mr. W. informed her of his ability to support her. The patronage which West met in London soon justified him in sending to Miss Shewell for her to come in the same vessel that conveyed his request to her, and also arranged that his father should accompany her on the voyage. Miss Shewell prepared for her departure, but her brother again confined her to her chamber. In this state of things, the late Bishop White, then about eighteen years of age, Dr. Benjamin Franklin, fifty-nine years of age, and Francis Hop kinson, twenty-nine years of age, when the ves sel was ready to sail, procured a rope ladder, went to the captain and engaged him to sail as soon as they brought a lady on board, took old Mr. West to the ship, and went at midnight to Stephen Shewell’s house, attached the ladder to a window in Miss Shewell’s chamber, got her out and to the vessel, which sailed in a very few minutes after she entered it. Mr. West was in waiting for Miss Shewell when she arrived in England, and they were soon married—September 2, 1765. Neither of them ever returned to this country. THOUGHTS AT NIAGARA. I stood on the bank of the river at Niagara, on a warm summer morning, while as yet only the “sober gray of early dawn” had mantled creation ; a heavy fog rested upon the river and surround ing landscape, entirely obscuring the view, the thundering cataract, the trembling earth, alone attested the dreadful presence of Jehovah. When suddenly as the glorious orb of day ‘threw open the portals of rosy morn,” and shed her radiant beams from on high, what a change comes over the scene! As in the moral word, the Law preceeded the more glorious dispensation of love—so in the physical and natural; all before was dismal and threatening, now, the fog is gradually uplifted— like a curtain from before some brilliant paint ing-revealing a most exquisite scene of loveli ness and beauty. All now was gay and cheerful, bright with sunshine, and fragrant with perfumes, the ground was decked in all the magnificence of summer, and all the choir of nature rejoiced to gether. Forests with their dark green foliage extended on either shore as far as the eye could reach, heavy clouds of spray rose from the midst of the falling waters which, as the morning ray first kissed every leaf and pearly drop returned the sal utation, resplendent with glittering gems. Far beneath rolled the majestic river, boiling and foaming as it rushed among the rocks—a fair type of human life with its perplexing cares—while over all, the bow of God’s promise glittered in the sunshine, restoring hope to the desponding. It is God’s promise alone that renders valuablo, j that gives to the mariner, tossed on life's troub- I lesome bosom, the sure hope of future bliss.— j Baltimore Patriot. I. T. mO one who loves nature, understands her lan- X guage and appreciates her teachings, every season and climate brings some new delight. The emotions which her infinitely varied scenery is calculated to awaken, become a never failing source of pleasure. From this source results the greater portion of the happiness which, as human beings, we are destined to experience. But it is not the cause of happiness alone. Whether we will it or no, the natural objects around us which we contemplate, performs a most important part in shaping and apportioning the elements of our characters. It matters very little, some say, where a man is born— under what sky he first be holds light: It matters much. Birth is no acci dent either in respect to place, time, or any other circumstance. Ilis character, history and eter nal destiny may, and often do, all hinge on that ; | single question of his birth-place, j The broad difference which exists between the 1 inhabitants of different climates is too decided not to have been universally remarked. Whether or not- climate alono has been a cause sufficient to produce the distinction of race among men, cannot now be determined; but we certainly know that it has exerted a most important influ ence. Tho effect of climate ami scenery upon in dividual character has not been so generally no ted* That it has not, is mainly attributable to j the fact that so many other causes operate in giv- ! ing shape to our characters that this is overlooked, i If we examine the histories of men, wo will find ! something more than an imaginary connection ! between the scenery amid which they have been brought up, and the character and direction of their minds. He who dwells where picturesque landscapes constantly meet his view, will natu rally, as he drinks in their loveliness, have his mind filled with poetic imagery and beauty. He whose eyes rest upon mountains which bathe their snow-capped summits in clouds, or whose ears listen to the dashings of thundering cata racts, will feel within his soul the high, thrilling inspirations of sublimity. The Switzer derives from bis cold, bleak hills a hardihood and energy which have made him known all over the world. The German derives his phlegmatic plodding from his marshy plains, and Scotia’s glassy lakes and towering mountains have made her the land of romantic song. Her pure, unclouded, balmy skies have rendered Italy the cradle of tlie fine arts, and her sunny, vine-clad hills make France the merriest of nations. So we might go on in definitely, and we would find m every instance a correspondence between the character of the people and the physical aspect of the country they inhabit. There are instances which contradict this propo sition. A sluggish and inglorious race have for ages desecrated the land immortalized as the birth-place of poetry, philosophy, art and science. Spain, where the Saracon power, like a splendid exotic, flourished and produced works of genius of rare excellence, is now the abode of one of the most slothful, retrogading nations on the earth. Individuals, too, have, in some instances, entered fields of mental labor to which the natural sce nery around them not only did not seem to in vite, but actually opposed. Linneaus, the great est of florists, was born and reared amid the rug ged, ice-clad hills of Sweden ; and Newton, who did more than any other man in explaining the nature and properties of light, was a native of a country in which an unclouded sky is scarce ever seen. But these are only exceptions to the gen eral rule—exceptions which result from the coun ter-operation of more potent causes. The Boston Traveller gives the following concise statement in regard to the three comets, now within the range of observation : “Donates —In the constellation of Ursa Major. Rises—3h. 16m. A. M., NE. by North. Sets—Bh. 44m. P. M., NW. by North. Encke’s —ln the constellation of Cancer—■ Rises—lh. 07m. A. M., Northeast. Sets —51i. 17m. P. M., Northwest. Tuttle’s —ln the constellation Perseus. This com et has just come within the circle of perpetual ap parition, and therfore does not set to us. In the meridian above the Pole, at 3h. 34m. in themorn ing.” The firts ot these comets only is visible to the naked eye and can be distinctly seen from seven to eight o’clock in the evening, and between 4 and 5 in the morning. It is growing brighter and more imposing each succeeding day. This comet is ra pidly approaching the Earth, and is now supposed to be one hundred and forty millions of miles dis tant. As it rises higher above the horizon, how ever, every successive evening, we shall soon have clearer and more prolonged views of the illustrious stranger. The brightest of the three comets is supposed by Dr. Gould to be identical with the comet of 1704 and the first of the three comets seen in 1827, and have a period of about thirty-one years. This conjecture is grounded on a supposed iden tity of the elements of motion. The motion of the comet of 1864, as we are told, was direct, while that of 1827 was retrograde. Astronomers differ in their opinions as to what precise comet this really is. The second comet is telescopic, and will not be visible to the naked eye. The third also invisible except through artificial aid, is conjccted to be the great expected comet of 1204 and 1550. All astronomers agree in extolling its splendor. Its tail is said to be more than 100 deg. in length, or one half of the visible heavens. Its first disap pearance was on the night of the Pope Urban IV. It is supposed to appear once every three hun dred years. We are told as a singular fact, that all the three bodies now engaging the special at tention cf astronomers, have positions differing widely from comets with which it is sought to identify them. There are, of course, those of superstitious pro clivites, who may give themselves some uneasi nessregardingthe.se heavenly visitors. We w r ould advise them to take the matter cooil j. All is not lost that is in danger. Astronomy teaches us, however, that comets, like other orbs, have their assigned orbits, and cannot deviate there from.— Balt. Pat. “ A Celebrtion in the Olden Time. —A corres pondent of the Hartford Courant commenting upon the celebration that has been held in honor of the Atlantic Telegraph, quotes the following ac count of the reception of Roger Williams, when he arrived with the charter for the Colony of Rhode Island: “The news of Williams’ return preceded him, and quickened the pulses of the people. They met him at iSeekonk; a fleet of canoes crowded the river, and when the brave man came to meet* them, cheer after cheer thrilled his heart and brought tears into his eyes. He embraced them in silent gratitude, and his satisfaction was such as patriots and philanthropists only can feel. No line of soldiers paid him a drilled homage ; no parks of canon belched forth noise and smoke; no shop-keepers hung out banners inscribed with patronage and praise; but the sincere gratitude and esteem of tho whole people gave him such a reception as kings might long for and gods envy.” — Elliot's New England. ■ Chicago. —What sometimes takes place in Chi cago may be imagined by an anecdote told by a Western paper, which is, in substance, that a pro duce operator from the stateofNew York bought a lot of “stub-tail” corn on speculation, put it safely in a store-house, ‘then amused himself at billiards, horse riding, carriage promenading, and an exceedingly severe spree, the latter oc cupying alone a period of some four or five days. When ho recovered the first thing ho asked for was a cocktail; the second a newspaper. He found from the market reports that corn had so risen in price that he could sell at a profit of elev en thousand eight aitndred dollars ! Os course he im proved his chance, pocketed his money and went home to his wife and children a wiser and a bet ter man. The salary of John B. Gough, of tho English is SIO,OOO per annum. He is now lecturing with even greater success than ever before. [Written for the Georgia Temperance Crusader.] 1 _ _ ♦DEATH OF BeSOTO. BT CI.AB A CLIFTON. THE battle of Alibamo was over; the bones of Jj the conquered Alib.anos lay bleaching on the banks of the Yazo. The victorious Spaniards had reached the great, and, until then, unknown Mis sissippi, and were resting at the town of Guachaga, below the mouth of tho Arkansas. The almost -despairing DeSoto had planned, and was now having carried*out, the scheme for the construc tion of the two brigantines which were to com municate with Cuba, when be was arrested in tho midst of his plan by a slow and malignant fever. Enfeebled in mind and body, tho distinguished leader of the brave, but inhumane, army of Span | iards lay upon a couch of suffering; he had fought i his last battle, seen the last hope of gold fade 1 from his vision, and the last dream ol ambition vanish from his mind. As he lay upon this cheerless death-bed, in a land of savages and amid an uncultivated forest , methinks liis desponding spirit traveled back to his native Spain; to the scenes of his youth and to Peru, where, under Pizarro, he won so envia ble a reputation. He doubtless thought of the swellings of pride in his heart when first appointed i Governor of Cuba and Adclantado of Florida, i With all these came thoughts of the gentle Donna j Isabella, who was dying beneath the sunny sky, 1 and amid the fragrant flowers of far-off’ Cuba, of ; a broken heart. In those dying hours a pang of unutterable bitterness must have pierced his heart when he remembered, not only how she had been forsaken and neglected for golden ad ventures, but how others bad taken her place in his affections. The beautiful Indian Princess, whom he had forced from her home at Silver Bluff and compelled to follow his fortunes, rose up an accusing spirit among many other Indian maidens whom he bad forced into captivity and misery. In quick review passed before him the murdered ghosts of the poor Florida Indians, whom he subdued and so often captured and con demned to the most servile drudgery. The mur dered ghosts of the six thousand proud Mobil ians whom his army had murdered, and whose town they had utterly destroyed: even now, he hears the groans and cries uttered during that j fearful night at Fort Mobilia; sees the piles of brave Mobilians frying upon the coals of their burning town. Os the splendid army of a thousand men, only three hundred remained, and were now collected around to receive bis dying farewell; many among them were his bitter enemies. The dis tinguished Captain, who had met with nothing but disappointments where he had expected to reap gold and renown, was now dying; a few [tar ting words of exhortation, one sorrowful gaze upon the river he had discovered, and this pow erful son of Spain was dead. A consultation between his friends and foes was held to decide as to his burial. ‘I lie ono wished, from selfish motives, to conceal his death from the Indians, and the others to save liis body from savage brutalities. It was decided that the bed of the river he had discovered should be his grave, and its waves his winding sheet. When the darkness of midnight had shrouded every thing in gloom, DeSoto was placed in a wooden trough and silently plunged into the middle of the Mississippi. “Facts taken from Pickcn’s “ History of Alabama.” A Woman’s Dodge in Rotterdam. —l had not gone far in my rambles about the city before I was brought to a stand by a discovery. On both sides of the streets, projecting from the centre of almost every window of the dwelling houses, each at an angle of forty-five degrees with the window, were placed two mirrors of about a foot square, each in a vertical position, one facing up the street and the other down. 1 immediately set my Yan kee ingenuity to work to “guess their object, and was not long in discovring in these mirrors plain indications that here, in this great swamp of Eu rope, woman’s curiosity is the same as among verdant hills and more genial climes. The mis tress of the house seating herself in her parlor in a particular spot before a window with book, nee dle or knitting work in hand, has but to lift her eyes into the twin looking-glasses outside her win dow in order to catch at a glance the whole pan orama of the steet in both dirietions. There was also another queer looking glass arrangement which for a long time puzzled me. The puzzle grew out of the peculiar position and various an gles at which these mirrors were placed. I was about giving it up, when observing that their in clination was always decidedly towards the front door, I saw the whole secret as clear as light. The good lady of the house, hearing Llie door bell ring, darts a look into the curious mirror, and thereby knows in a moment who stands at the door. Os course when the door servant comes in, lier ladyship can at once say whether she is at home or not. In all the cities of Holland, nearly every dwelling house has projecting from its win dows from one to ten of these ugly looking mir rors. FARMERS AND THEIR WIVES. Said a young person to a lady, who sat holding her child, “Now whatgood will all your education do you ? You have spe.it so much time in study, graduated with high honors, learned music and painting, and now only married a farmer. Why do not you teach school, or do something to ben efit the world with your talents, or. if you chose to marry, why not take a teacher, a clergyman, or some professional man ? But, as it is, you did not need so much learning for a rural life.” The lady replied, “You do not look very far into the future. Do you see this boy on my lap? I need all the study, all the discipline, both of mind and body, that I could possibly get, in or der that I may train him aright. You sec, I have the first impressions to make on the fair blank of his pure heart, and unless my mind was first cultivated, my own heartfirst purified, how could I well perform the task now placed before me ? And, besides, do you not suppose that farmers hrve hearts like other men, tastes just as pure, because they guide the plow,and till the soil for their support? Do you not suppose their minds are just as susceptible of cultivation and expan sion as otliei men ? Have they no love of the beautiful, in their nature of art? Cannot good paintings be just as much admired on their walls as others, or does the evening hour never pass as pleasantly with them, when they gather around the piano after a day’s labor is finished? Ah, my young friend, you have made a sad mistake in your reckoning.” Os all the occupations, give me that of a farmer. It is the most healthful, his life is freer from care his sleep is sweeter, his treasures safer. A farmer need not be a slave of any, for he has nono to please but himself. Not so with almost any tradesman, mechanic or professional man. They have more or less to do with the world at large, and have all manner of persons to deal with, so that they have need of tho patience of Job to live. They are well aware that they must not freely speak their minds at all times, and it they do will lose custom, for they dopenct upon the people for a living, therefore, they arc tho ser vants of all. Then Jwhat can be desired more, what is more peaceful, prosperous, honest, health ful and happy than a farmer’s wife? — Moore's Au ral New Yorker. Why we are White.*— A Mahometan AfFghan priest thus explained to a large audience, who wondered how it happened that Europeans dilter in color from themselves: “Their faith forbkls the European women to suckle their children and they supply tho mother’s place by an ewe. This, therefore,” ho said, “preserves the nati rai whiteness of tho skin ; but they are not the less half beast, half man : and that is the reason they cannot understand the sublimo religion ot our venerated Prophet.” Mr. O. P. Fannin, the Principal of tho Deaf and Dumb Asylum, at Cave Spring, Floyd county, has been removed by the Commissioners. On which a meeting of the people oi that neighbor hood was held to express their high appicciation of Mr. F. and their regret at his summary remov al, for alleged Sectarian causes. The Legislature will be memorialized to reinstate Mr. 1 annin. The State oflowa has to-day 50,000 men capable of bearing arms. . mr .: W. Young of Virginia, has beXn appointed U. S. Consul at Stutgardt. The Rothschilds haye bought an Austrian rail way for 50,000,000 florins. Mr. and Mrs. Brewer, of Wayne county, Ken tucky, have twenty-two children. Whiskey to the amount of 7,000,000 of gallons, is annually consumed in Scotland. The receipts of the Ohio Agricultural Fair at Sandusky on the first day, reached SB,OOO. Samuel Austin, a very opulent and extensive merchant, in Boston, died recently in that city. lion. Henry Bediuger, late U. S. Minister to J on mark, has arrived at New York in the steamer -Persia. A. 11. ir. Dawson, Esq., delivered a Mount Ver non address at Knoxville, Tennessee, on the 18th instant. A son of Rogers the sculptor was lately baptized in Borne in the Roman Catholic faith by Archbi shop Beclini. Great men direct the events of their time , wise men take advantage of them: weak men are borne down by them. The recent St. Louis Fair was a decided suc cess. The total receipts amounted to 820,000, and the profits to §16,000. Dr. Binney has resigned the situation of Presi dent of the Columbian College, £>. C. An election for his successor will take place. The earnings of the Illinois Central railroad for tfie fourli week of August, arc §01,804,18; for the month of August, 8190,784,40. There are more lies told in the brief sentence, “I am glad to see you,” than in, any other single sentence in the English language. Rev. John Strafc, aged one hundred years preached in Galliopolis, Ind., on the 31st ult. He was a soldier of the Revolution. The new style of bonnet is an unique affair, and resembles a cabbage leaf trimmed with tomatoes. The price is cheap—only thirty dollars. The Boston Atlas says that a daughter of the late Professor Webster was married on the 24th ult. to Dr. Ihomas S. Lathrop, of Taunton, Mass. Leave your grievances, as Napoleon did his let i tors, unopened for three weeks, and it is astonish ing how few of them at that time will require an swering. Cape May takes its name from Capt. Cornelius Jacobson May, a navigator in the service of the Dutch West India Company, who visited the Del aware Bay in 1623. A hundred and twenty young men have offered themselves to the British Methodist conference, for the ministry. Scarcely could there be a bet ter sign for English Methodism. The Baron de'Reiclienbach nas just presented liis collection of eeroliths, worth 60,000 florins, to the University ofTubingeon. There is but one ful ler and finer in the world—that of Vienna. Paddy’s description of a fiddle cannot be beat: “It was the shape of a turkey, and the size of a goose; he turned it over on its back, and rubbed its belly with a stick, and och ! St. Patrick ! how it did squalc!” An English officer writes from India of the tak ing of a Rajah and the sacking of his palace. They found in the treasure vaults bags contain ing 420,000 rupees and XBO,OOO in gold, with jew els estimated at<£2oo,ooo. Prentice wishes that the individual who in vented what was called the “paying out machine ry” for the Niagara and Agamemnon, would get up a little machine of the sort to be used in case of every newspaper subscriber. The diploma of honorary membership in the Berlin Geographical Society has been forwarded through the Department of S''ate, to Professor A. D. Bache, the distinguished superintendent of the coast survey of the United States. It is announced in the English papers that Queen Victoria has granted a free pardon to a young man named William Craft, who was sen tenced to six years’ imprisonment at hard labor, for an assault in kissing a young lady against her will. The President has rcconized Lewis’ John Bar bar as British consul for Virginia, to reside at Richmond, and Enrst .Carl Angelrodt, of St. Louis as Consul of the Grand Duchy of Saxe-Weimer, for the States of Missouri and lowa and the west ern terriories. G. P. R. James, Esq., the novelist, lately H. B. M’s consul at Richmond, Va. will finally leave Richmond on Tuesday next for Now York, and will probably take the steamer Persia of the 20th inst., for Europe, to assume his new duties as Bri tish Consul-General at Venice. The Legislature of Minnesota lias passed a law exempting a homestead of eighty acres from levy from debts incurred; also SSOO worth of house hold furniture, S3OO worth stock and unteusils, SIOO worth of tools, the library of a professional man, and provisions to support the family one year. Garrick said of Sir John Hill, the physician and author, “The worst I wish the doctor is, that he may be compelled to take his own physic and read his own verses.” “You must reverse the punishment,” said a wag, “any man who takes the doctor’s physic, won’t live to read his rhymes.” A Hanover paper tells the world that the “silly prejudice against horse flesh” has altogether van ished in Denmark and Northern Germany, and that in the city of Hanover alone, in the course of Whitsunweck, about two thousand pounds ol horse flesh were consumed. The number of hor ses slaughtered for eating in that city is between two and three hundred a year! Eev. Mr. Loop, of the Episcopal church at Met amora, Illinois, was about commencing a sermon when a gust of wind blew the document out oi the window. Some of the congregation tittered and laughed. The clergyman descended from his desk, went out and recovering his sermon, re turned and preached it, and then announced that he would preach no more for that congrega tion. Hurry and Despatch.— No two things differ more than hurry and despatch. Hurry is the mark of a weak mind; despatch of a strong. A weak man in office, like asquirrel in a cage, is laboring eter nally, but to no purpose; in constant motion, without getting on a jot; talks a great deal, but says very little ; looks into everything, but sees nothing ; and lias a hundred irons in the fire, but very few of them hot, and with thoso that are, he only burns his fingers.— Colton. Get Married. —If you wish to grow wealthy, „ e t married. What it costs to support ono vice will keep six children. Until a young man is married, he is tossed about from one degree of un godliness to another, till his health, strength and character are completely ‘busted up and done for.’ Talk about your Congress water and sea bathing but there is nothing on the face of the earth for the health, happiness, and well being of any person equal to a loving, virtuous woman. It is a fine remark of Rousseau's that the best of us differ from others in fewer particulars than we agree with them in. The difference of a tall and short man is only a few inches, whereas they are both several feet high. So a wise and learned man knows many things of which tho vulgar are ignorant; but there is a still greater number of things the knowledge of which they sluuo in com mon with them.— llnslilt. The following has tho ring of thojadk plane in it all over: “Strolling leisurely about Uncle Sam’s big ship-yard in Washington the other 1 day, we observed a regular hard weather sailor chap from a man-of-war, who in turn, was watrhmg two men dragging a seven feet cross-cut saw through ahugo live oak log. Tho saw was dull, the log terrible hard, and there they went—sou-saw, see-saw— pull push push pull. Jack studied the matter over awhile until he came to the oonollusion they were pulling to see who could get tho saw, and as one was a monstrous big chap, while . the other was a little fellow, Jack decided to see fair play ; so taking tho big one a clip wader tho ear that capsized him end over end, he jerked the saw out of the log, andgiving it to the small one, he sung out —“Now run you beggar “ ■ A bit, of fine original poetry from the pe: of a lady, who uses the signaturer)f “Biondella. FwouH have died- for thee ! But veSTcreve - Thy lays made muskyin my cottage home, Till all the air seemed filled with melody. . And then I knelt to pray, “Heaven bless my friend !’ With eyes uplifted to the listening stars. Then, sleeping, dreamed the fondest, fairest dreams That ever‘youth, and hope,and love and truth Wreathed round a maiden’s pillow—l awoke. O bleeding heart! why did I ever wake — O crown of grief! why did these eyes unclose To read those bitter, bitter, bitter words: “Farewell! Between us Fate lias thrown a gulf, Deep as the pitiless sea. Forget that e’er We met—that e’er ws loved. Farewell, Farewell! GONE HOSE. And she hath tied ! gone in the morn of youth. To other worlds where shadows cannot come; While her young brow shone bright with Christian truth, Her sweet eyes closed, and angels bore her home. Why should we weep ? oh, is it all of life To dwell on earth, wrestle with its care ? Have we no joys beyond these scenes of strife— No treasures bright in Heaven—no blessings there? All, chase the clouds away from every brow— Dry up the tears that tremble in each eye; One more is changed into an angel now, To wait lor you, beyond tho glorious sky. The summer sun shines o’er the gladsome earth, l he lair young flowers are blooming in our way; Dear to each heart, the mornings of their birth, 1 hough soon they lade and leave us day by day. Lut oh, within her litttle garden spot, Arc breathless (lowers nurtured with tender care; l (trough all the live-long day she cometh not— . it eve they weep, because she is not there, A shadow (alloth on lhs thomrhiful brow— For “home, swc-et home,’ hath lost his dearest charm ; 1 o him, ol lovfi she cun nut whisper now He cannot fold her in his sheltering arm.’ ’Tis past —turn from that lonely, narrow orave She isnot there —her spirit soared above, a To that bright city, where pure waters wave— Where music echoes through sweet haunts of love. _ EITTEE 3?IITTIE. BV LIXA BELLE. “Room gentle flower, My child would pass to Heaven.” “Tired, little one ?” “Yes Aunt Mittie, oh so tired!” And the little hands pushed back the damp hair from the pure, white forehead, as the head sinks to its favorite resting place—my lap. What a picture of beauty ! So child-like, and yet so unlike most children. I gaze and yearn ior the gift to transfer its angelic sweetness to can vas. The pure, blue-veined forehead, arched by those delicate, dark brown, almost black, brows, though the silky hair is a light golden hue, the long, fringe like eye-lashes, so long and dark they throw a rayed shadow on the dove grey eyes, the little dimpled mouth, wreathed with a quiet smile of content, the rose-white, pink cheek, (not the purple pink, so common in children, but the true rose hue) all these might be painted. But could that spiritual expression, that shadow of something holy, that painters have so essayed to do in pictures of the Christ-child? Vain the at tempt—it is the spirit-shadow that goes homo with the soul to Heaven. “It is so warm, but 1 thought I would not put it off any longer.” And the pure eyes gave me one of those confiding, loving looks'that always sent a thrill to my heart. “What was the task that could not be put off, Pet, that you must tire yourself walking in the hot sun to do it ?” “I have been over to the cemetery to fix Vir gie’s grave. Something told me 1 must do it to day. That selfish myrtle had crawled all over it, and almost smothered my sweet violets. ‘I had trained it up around the fence and over the post but it would come down and crawl all over the grass and nearly covered up the violets I planted round dear Virgin’s head. I’ve got it all nice now, Aunt Mittie, and you shall go with me to morrow’ to see it.” That “to-morrow” never came. White as the pillow on which she lies, tho long dark lashes drooping on the marble cheeks, one of which is pillowed on a little hand, w'hile the other lies like a snow flake on the coverlet, so small and wasted that the little circle of gold that used to clasp tho slender finger is now slip ping from it. Quiet, yet so quiet, but not sleeping, for there is that expression, so sweet yet so holy. I gaze spell-tound. The large eyes open slowly but so calmly. “Aunt Mittie is mama gone?” Yes, pet. “Tho doctor told her t must die. I am sorry for mama and father and Tinie and you, but I am not sorry for myself, I think it will be so nice to be iivheaven and never die again. Hear* en is beautiful Aunt Mittie, I know, full of sweet flowers and beautiful things. Go to my funeral and don’t let every body tread on our violets, Virgie loved them so.” And then those soft eyes look deep, deep into my soul and see a wall of partition that had never been thrown down, as the sweet voice murmured, “1 know how you love Papa and Tinie; give all tho love you had forme to mama.” One hard struggle and the sw r eetvoice was sealed with a kiss as she dropped her tiny ring in my hand. “God gives us ministers oflove, Which we regard not being near; Death takes them from us, then we feel That angels have been with us here.’” F.XCLUSiVIi: TALKEItS, The “exclusive talkers” are the most insuffer able class. One of those will undertake to talk for all the company present. If yon impatiently throw in but one little word, it is like flinging a large stone into a quick current —it disturbs, but cannot impede it, and rather impels it still faster onward : or like striking a spark into a barrel of gunpowder—fresh explosion of words spreads a hubbub and confusion all around it. Though he tells you everything you already know, you can not tell him anything that lie does not know. Ifo can toll voa what anew book contains tliatis to come out next Tuesday, as wel’ as if ho was himself Wednesday; or anticipate the merits of a great picture on the casal. If you mean to see the new tragedy, he has seen it, and he destroys all of the delight you would have in its newness, by repeating the best points of it, and by unrav eling its plot. If you set out with an anecdote, he snatches it otitof your mouth, as a covetous dog would a desired bone from his best boon companion and dearest puppy-friend and tells it for you. You object that yours was a different version of tho same story, and gently persist in telling it your own way; he knows the other ver sion as well as you do. and relates it for you, but thinks his own the best. If you persist, after all, in telling it for yourself, he will insinuate to morrow that you are in your dotage, and declare that you are the worst teller of a good thing since Goldsmith. You could not have done a worse thing than start an anecdote in his hearing, for that one is too sure of reminding him of a hun dred others; and the last one of that first century of good things is so nearly to the first of the sec ond century, that he cannot choose but relate it, ancl you dare not choose but hear it. If you com mence a favorite quotation, he takes up the sec ond line, got s on with it, and ends by quoting twice as much as you intended. This invariably leads him to recollect another poem by the same author, which no doubt you have heard, but Mrs. Jones, who is present, would perhapslike to hear; and then he begins it without farther prelude, and you can, if you please, go to sleep, ad interim, if you have no fear of his reproach, for want of taste before your eyes, to keep them open. You have been to Paris and lie informs you of your expenses on the road: or you are going to Scot land, and lie narrates most pathetically the mise ries of a German inn. Os all talkers these are the worst. Monarch and Mystic.*— One of the officers of his guard was mimicking him (the Emperor Paul) in the.palace, far the entertainment of his com rades, when the door opened, and the Czar ‘en tered! The officers were about to stop the per former, but bis majesty made them a sign not to do so, and advancing unporccived by the young man, ho crossed liisarms before him, and him to go on. The officer with perfect self-com mand, continued, saying, “Lieutenant, you de servo to bo degraded, but being clemency itself, I not only pardon you, but promote you to a cap taincy.” This was said in the Czar’s, way who then exclaimed, “Be it so,” and walked away. The Langu age of Love. —“ Dost thou love me ?” asked a youth, in the holiest hour of love, the first in which souls meet and give themselves away. The maiden gazed on him, but answered not. “Oh! if thou iovest me, speak ?” continued he; but she gazed on him still, and could not. “Then I have but dreamed of happiness, and hoped thou didst love me; but now all is over—both happi ness and hopo !” said the youth. * Dearest, do Inot, then, love thee?” themaid len now asked, once and again. “But why so slow to say it?” inquired he. She answered, “I was too happy to speak, until A heard and felt thy pain.”