Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

‘if'ilia iilitsm A WORD TO ANGLERS. “ Coo l luck to jour fishing.” The Monastery. If, as “Thomas Best, Gent., late of his Majesty's Prawing-room in the Tower,” saith, “Patience is highly necessary-for every one to be endowed with who angles for carps, on account of their sagacity and cunning,”—that virtue is still more essen tial as an endowment to the angler who goes alter the great Thames trouts, lie must he content to spend much lime in dropping down from stream to weir, from pool to stream, and from stream to weir again, and to burn all the skin off his face many times before he has even a run : moreover, unless he wears gloves—and n one handles his tools with mittens so well as he does without—he will have to pre sent a pair of hands at the dining-table on ly to be rivalled in their nut-brown hue by those of the gipsy or the gravel-digger. But when he does get a nine or ten pound er into his well, the look-down upon the fish, after all the hair-breadth hazards of losing him when hooked, is worth the weariness of many blank days, and the production of those unpresentable hands to boot. To be sure, it does sometimes happen, even to the best of sportsmen, that, after the struggle is apparently over, and the fish is close to the boat's side, something will give way, leaving the unhappy Pis cator with a straight rod and suddenly slackened line, and also with a sensation as if he had been suddenly deprived of his back-bone. But for a lover of nature, even when fortune smiles not, this kind of fishing has many charms:—the bright liver, the con tinual change of scene, the rich beauty of the highly cultivated and picturesque country through which it flows, and the exhilarating freshnessof the air, as it comes laden with the perfume of the new-mown hay, or of the honeysuckle blossoms from “the eottngc of thatch, Where never physician has lifted the latch,” make mere existence a pleasure. Then there is always something to be seen by one who has eyes and knows how to use them. There are the wild flowers that enamel the hanks, the insects, the fish —it requires a practised eye to see them— the birds. Here, a king-fisher shoots by like a meteor—there go the summer-snipes —the swift darts by close to the boat, like “ An arrow from a Tartar's how” — That back-water is positively carpeted with the green leaves and snowy star-bloom off the water-lily—and the nightingale hard 1 by T , in shadiest covert hid, fairly sings down all the host of day-songsters, though the blackbird and thrush make melody loud and clear. 1 On one of these expeditions not long ago, we observed below Lock, just as a thunder-storm was coming on, a pair of swans with seven young ones.— There was evidently something more than usual going on —some sensation, as the French say, among them. The young were collected between the parents, and the whole party pushed up stream. At first we thought they were nearing our point, as we were dropping down from try ing the weir, in the hope of bread; but three of the young ones mounted on the back of the female sivan. who elevated her wings to receive them, the brilliant whiteness of her plumage contrasting beau tifully with the gray down of the little creatures, and there was a sacred appear ance about the whole party. The cause was soon manifest. A magnificent swan, worthy of Leda herself, came ploughing up the water, in dignantly, at a trespass on his domain.— The family hurried on: and in their haste, one of the young sliptoff its mother’s back. There was distress! A weakling was left behind in the wake of its father, and whilst it scrambled along, non passibus aquis, uttered shrill cries as the enemy ad vanced. Up came the mighty bird, and then the father, evidently inferior to the attacking swan in age, size, and strength, turned to meet him, while the little family, huddled close to the mother, made haste to escape up the river. Proud as the senior, the young father threw back his neck be tween his arched wings, and confronted the giant. This was unexpected; they kept sailing backward and forward abreast of each other, across the stream, like two war-ships; and the watchful turns of their graceful necks and bodies, as each tried to lake the other at advantage, was a sight to see. We thought at last that they would do battle; for each of the rivals el evated himself on the water, and made show of coinbat to the outrance. But, by this time the family, under the guidance of the alleclionate mother, were safe, and the el der male swan seemed to think that the better part of valour is discretion, and that he had driven the intruders from his royal ty. So they parted. The young one went up to receive his reward from the mother of his family, and the old one rubbed his neck on his wings, and dived, and dropped down stream again, evidently comforting himself that he had given the tresspasser a lesson. There was a dog belonging to the Lock house. He, from experience, seemed to know that all swans are bullies, but still the encounter was something ior a dog at a . lock-house, where anything is an incident. \ And, indeed, this was so much more car : nest in show than the usual conflicts, that he moved down towards the brink, though the rain was coming on. At first he sat upon his tail: but, as the affair gave hope of becoming serious, be couched and when the birds lifted themselves, as in act to fight, dropped his head on his outstreched fore j legs, with all the ecstacy of an amateur. When, however, lie found that it was no | go, and that the menaces ended as usual — much in the same way as they have done of late among the urifeathcred bipeds, ac cording to the new code of chivalry,—lie j shook himself, like a sensible dog, and went back to shelter. On another occasion, after fishing many miles of water with nothing but a few perch and jack in the well ss the results, we dropped down to Weir, Wearied with my no-sport, I stretched my listless length on the boarding that flanked the main weir, and watched with I half-shut eyes, through the tremulous ae rial medium .that often attends a warm summer's day, the osiers on my left. The thundering of the fall had, by degrees, something soothing in it, and I felt that I was sinking fast into a doze, when I be held a tall figure, in rusty black, with a club-foot, swarthy sharp visage, and an eye that positively glowed, looking down upon me. “Ah !” said lie, “no sport! Well,l, too, am a sportsman —and a very keen sports man ; but I am getting old, snd I cannot walk the weirs now.” How he could ever have walked the weirs with that foot of his seemed a mys tery ; but the love of sport will carry peo ple over anything. Finding l made no re ply,the figure continued — “ What would you give to have on your line that fish, whose glittering side you saw but now, as he leaped from the river till his splash was heard above the noise of the waters 1 He that was afterwards chasing the bleak on the shallow till his huge shoulders and back-fin were fairly shown.” “Any thing,” replied I; for I had been watching this fish—a twelve or fourteen pounder at least, strong on his feed, and making the small fish skip into the air be fore him—“ anything !” “ I do not want anything very substan tial,” said he meekly. I looked up. “You said awhile you would give any thing ?” “ I did.” “ You will give it, then ?” “ Certainly.” “ Agreed.” He produced a small but most brilliant fish—such a one as l had never seen, and 1 had seen many, a kind of miniature Opah or King-fish —and fixed it on the hooks of the trace most skilfully. “You don’t repent?” said he. “No; but am I to have that great fish on my line ?” “Yes.” “And land him?” “The fish shall he landed.” “I shall want to send him to town, Can you meet me at the church yonder with a basket ?” “1 don’t go much to churches,” said he; “people would stare at me so; but if you mean there,” (as I pointed with my rod to wards the tower), “I will see you in the churchyard.” I examined my splendid bait to see that it was all right. Neither Wilder, Purdy, nor Goddard could have fixed it better. 1 tried it in the Stillwater, and it spun admi rably. When 1 raised my head to praise the baiter, he was gone. I was anxious to try my bait; and beck oned to the fisherman who was sitting on the other end of the long weir-beam by my companion, as the latter was fishing be tween the two last spurs, near the eddy in the corner. He came. “ Have you had a run ?” said I. a y C s,” replied the fisherman: “ but not from the big fish, though the one as come at us was a solaker —l put him at seven or eight pounds.” “ Where was it ?” “There, in the corner; Le come out of the foam, and took us in the wambling— but the hooks drew.” “Then the fish are on the feed ?” “Yes; the sun has draw’d the baits up close to the weir, and the fish are come up alter ’em. That great fish druv the baits right out of the water but now, at the far side there, just by that shrimple.” 1 showed him my bait fish. “ Where did you get that ?” said he; and who put it on?” “Did you not see the man in black who was talking to me 1” “No : 1 sid no man in black. I sid a great dark-looking heron fly away just be yond them osiers, and 1 wondered how he come to let you he so nigh him ; you must ha’ bin werry quiet.” 1 began to climb to the top of the weir beam. “Is it any use to try again think you ?” i “ It's a werry odd bait as ever I see,” re sponded the fisherman; “ but it's werry bright, and you may as well try the weir over with it.” I stood on the weir-beam. Now, no one who has not walked the Thames, weirs can tell what a task it is to walk them, till practice has made it easy. ’ Weir is one that affords as steady footing as any; but to stand on that nar row beam for the first time, whilst the ear is stunned by the roar of the fall, and the eye reels as it is dazzled with the raging white water of the boiling pool, fifteen feet below, demands good nerves. To fish in such a position requires strong ones. My bait was, at one time, spinning far down in the pool thirty yards off—and at I another, as I shortened my line, —which then lay at my feet on the beam or lntng 10@!Iiaii© 9 171110.1 ©&3!B1?So down from it—and reversed my rod, it was glittering close beneath me in the foam on the apron. Suddenly I lost sightof it, and, at the same instant, there was a snatch that I felt to my spinal chord. I had him! 1 raised my rod in the twinkling of an eye, gave him the butt, and up he sprang in the broad sun-light, showing a side like a sow. “Don’t check him!” cried the fisherman, in a voice that was heard above the river thunder. Out ran the line! Who can be collected at such a moment ? It coiled round my ancle, and down I went headlong into the mad water below. Strange as it may appear, my principal anxiety, as 1 struck out into the pool to avoid being sucked back under the apron, was to secure the fish, which I felt was still fast. This embarrassed me, and not withstanding my efforts, I was drawn back into the weltering waves under the weir. I looked round, —and there I beheld that dreadful face glaring ghastly at me through the smooth glassy sheet of the falling wa ter ; and I felt the long deadly arms drag ging me, foot foremost, under the apron. In the delirium of despair I cried out, —“ You said I should land the fish.” “I said,” shouted the horror, “that the fish should be landed, and that I would see you in the churchyard;” and he mercilessly pulled me under. “Lord! Lord! methought what pain it was to drown.” The long, cruel arms kept dragging me deeper and deeper. The brightness became less and less. My ago ny was inexpressible. Then came dark ness, —the blackness of darkness. Sud denly my sensations were even pleasant, and I fancied that I was in a delicious meadow. A fearful change succeeded. I found myself in a well-known burial vault, — “Girt by parent, brother, friend. Long .since number'd with the dead.” And there was that grim feature still claim ing me, and the long lean arms were stretch ed out to grapple me, and the grasp enter ed into my soul. I turned to make one desperate effort at escape, and, opening my eyes, I found myself still stretched on the dry boards. My companion was shaking me by the shoulder, and inquiring, with something like reproach, if I thought that was the way to get the great fish into the well ?— Broderip. nr uis Ai&iragAa. sa|s£a2g^iPl ■ LYONS IN FRANCE. Lyons is the centre of the great silk man ufacturing region of Franee. It has a pop ulation of nearly 200,000,swarming through the lofty irregular houses which crowd and darken the narrow, crooked and filthy streets. The silk manufacture was begun there in 1450. There are no large buildings: like cotton factories, where the work is carried on —everything is done in private houses. The proprietor gives out the work, all prepared for weaving, and it is brought home to him when it is finished. A draughtsman, usually a minor partner, is constantly employed in getting up new patterns and it is the special business of an other artiste to lay in the piece. There are in operation, in and about Lyons, not less than thirty one or two thousand silk looms, or about one to every six or eight of the population. The houses in which the work is carried on, are dark, close, and filthy—the living is of the poorest kind, and the whole weaving population is wretchedly depraved, both physically and morally. Os the men who are of a proper ; nge for military service, at least one-half j are exempted by weakness, disease or de j fortuity, and the females can boast no su periority whatever over the men. As one winds his way along the streets, i lie looks in through the open windows upon pieces of glossy silk in the loom, ol [ bright, gay colors, and he sees leaning over , the beautiful web, and plying the shuttle amidst the delicate threads, some gaunt and haggard form, whose sunken eye glares mechanically upon the growing robe of , some proud dutchess, and whose long, lank fingers go thoughtlessly to their places, as the quick click of the shuttle gives notice ]of its movement across the piece. For a 1 lew sous a day, weary and hungry, and ! sick, these wretched beings toil on for the : decoration of those who can scarcely be lieve that there is such a thing as misery in the world. A RELIC OF FEUDALISM. The prejudice against the mechanical trades is a relic of feudalism unworthy of our free country. Considered with refer ence to those old feudal prejudices, all the pursuits by which bread is earned in our country are equally base. Considered in the light of republican philosophy, they are all equally honorable. The liaron of the middle ages, who could not read or write, looked down upon the merchant, the me chanic, and the lawyer with equal con tempt ; and the baron of modern days, who cannot even wield the lance, considers him self superior to the greatest, wisest, and best of those who were born commoners. These old feudal prejudices are ridiculous. But when we call one profsesion respecta ble, and another less respectable, do we not adopt them? When we talk of degrading ourselves by making tradesmen of our sons, do we not give sanction to the stupid and exploded notions of the dark ages ? ’ When we admit that any citizen may lose \ ro.ste by associating with any other honest and honorable man, do we not submit to a barbarism worse than Gothic —the barbar ism of Hidostan and China? Such notions should be laid aside with ‘ other useless lumber, as unfit for an age . and a country where common sense gives ) | law to society, and where real merit stamps j ’ the seal of respectability. It is but fight- j ; ing shadows to offer arguments in opposi- j i tiou to such views. BsjU§AT J®S3 A1 > EDUCATE THE MOTHERS. j Napoleon asked Madame Cam pan what was necessary for the people of France? j “Educate the mothers,” said the estimable ! lady. You are right, said Napoleon, and ’ he proceeded to state that the most impor tant and valuable elements of his charac ter were derived from the affectionate and careful nurture of his mother. This anecdote was called to mind, by observing that the great Reformer, Trav eller, Statesman and Poet, Lamartine is about to publish a sort of psychological autobiography. In some preliminary re marks upon this matter, he passes a high encomium upon his mother, as having im planted in his heart the love of the beauti ful, and true, so that he is able to reject from bis experience in life all that does not contribute to his happiness. These observations of two of the great est men of modern times, made in Franee, find confirmation the world over! And if in France such a statement is found to be just, how much more should we feel it to be so in this country, founded by the staid and religious Hollanders and Puritans ? Lord Brougham judges that the most im portant impressions, produced for life upon the character, are made before the infant attains the age of six years. Few are aware of the manner in which early seeds are sown into the tender soil of the human mind, nor how long they lie buried before germinating and springing up into growth and maturity. Often after long years have elapsed, and men in the hurry and bustle of ambition, seem to have forgotten the earlier scenes and affections of life, the hour of reflection arrives; the beautiful visions of peace and innocence are re-trac ed, as with a magic pencil. A mother’s prayers come again to the ear; her lessons are fresh in the heart, and the worldling and the sinner are reformed by a mother’s influence. Asa people, we are so inclined to rest less impulses and excitements, that it re quires all the aids of religion, domestic love, and careful moral training, to keep our people steadfast to duty, trust and hap piness. In the wild fever for gold which is sweejiing this country of its youth, who can think that the unhallowed excitement would have thus prevailed, if the mothers had been educated, and the sons had been directed by their affectionate care? But, for a time—and a time only, we trust—the merchantile spirit prevails in this country over every other feeling, Religion, Love. Affection are sacrificed to Mammon. Fam ily ties and attachments yield to the arro gance of wealth and station. But we i hope a better day is coming. May heav ! en speed it; and, while we are improving | the methods of educating the men, let us I not be neglectful of the daughters and mothers. LEARNING NOT EDUCATION. “ There is a great mistake about what is called education. Some suppose a learned man is an educated man. No such thing. That man is educated who knows himself, and who takes accurate “ common-sense views of men and things around him.— Some very learned men are the greatest fools in the world : the reason is, that they are not educated men. Learning is only the means, not the end ; its value consists of giving the means of acquiring, in disci pline which, when properly managed, it gives the mind. Some of the greatest men in the world were not overstocked with learning, but their actions proved that they were thoroughly edficated. Washington, Franklin, Sherman, were of this class; and similar, though less striking instances, may be found in all countries. To be ed ucated, a man must learn to think, reason, compare, and decide accurately, lie may study metaphysics till he is gray, and lan guages till he is a walking polyglott. and if he is nothing more, he is an uneducated man. There is no class in the country who have a stronger interest in the educa tion of their children than farmers; and the subject should receive from them the attention it deserves.” SHOULD STUDY BE CONFINED TO ONE SUBJECT ? ’ In a series of lectures on the study of • German Literature, delivered at Manches ter by Mr. George Dawson of Birmingham, the following remarks (quoted from the Manchester Examiner's report) are made. I “ Sometimes you heard men warning peo j pie against a dissipation of study, against studying too many things, and exhorting 1 them to confine their attention to one thing. Now, up to a certain time, he con -1 sidered that this was bad advice. He did I not think that this should be the founda | tion of culture to those to whom literature ! was a secondary thing They should in early life gather in a variety of know -1 ledge, form, as it were, a good weft —and then inweave the particular— -1 study which after-life required should be the pattern on the cloth. For a literary man, he need not say how necessary total culture was. He had before protested against fractional studies, as contradistin guished from a subdivision of labour in j teaching. To exhort people to cultivate ] one branch of knowledge to the exclusion , of everything else, was like urging one man to direct his efforts solely to the strengthening of his right arm, another of his left, a third of his feet, and so on. One man reccommended you to cultivate the exact sciences only, and hence society had been supplied with men who were mathematicians only—men whose gospel was a right angle, and whose religion was a circle. In other cases, inen had become so engrossed with a particular study, that they would spend an enormous amount of time in settling the quantity of a Greek syl lable, and write most elabo rate treatises on the Greek diagamma. A fully-cultured man could turn his attention to the division of labour which stern necessity imposed upon him. Sometimes, however, natural propensity would come in to check this. Nevertheless, we should all aim at what the Germans called ‘ many-sidedness ; so that, whichever way we turned, there might be a polished side presented.” THE TRUE ARISTOCRATS. BY C. I). STUART. Who Brc the noble? of the earth— The true Aristocrats.— Who need not how their heads to Lords, Nor doff to Kings their hats 1 Whogire they, but the Men of Toil, The mighty and the free, Whose hearts and hands subdue the earth And compass all the sea! Who are they, but the Men of Toil Who cleave the forest down, And plant amid the wilderness The hamlet and the town 1 Who fight the battles, bear the scars, And give the world its crown Os name, and fame, ami history, And pomp of old renown ! Those claim no gaud of heraldry, And scorn the knighting rod , Their coats of arms are noble deeds; Their peerage is from God! They take not from ancestral graves The glory of their name, But win, as erst their fathers won, The laurel wreath of Fame El IS tt. A S3 IB 1. L’ It is little But in these sharp extremities of fortune, The blessings which the weak and poor cau scatter Hare their own season. ’Tis a little thing To give a cup of water; yet its draught Os cool refreshment, drained by fevered lip3 May give a shock of pleasure to the frame More exquisite than when ncctarian juice Renews the life of joy in happiest hours. Noon Talfourd. How often in the evening twilight, at the rising of the moon, at the earliest day-dawn, how often in the stillness of midnight, and in that other repose of noon so oppressive, so disquieting, so devouring, have I felt my heart precipitate itself to ward an unknown object: towards a hap piness without shape, without name, with out end, which is in heaven, in the atmos phere, everywhere, like an invisible mag net—like love ! ah, ’ tis Love. “ Nothing lovelier can bo found In woman than to study household good, And good works in her husband promote. 1 ’ m- “ n ow, then, Thomas, what are you burning on my writing-table there ?” “Only the paper what’s written all over, sir; I aint touched the clean.” A young lady, being addressed by a gentleman much older than herself, ob served to him, the only objection she had to a union with him, was the probability of his dying before her, and leaving her to feel the sorrows of wido\#iood. To which he made the following ingen ious and complimentary reply : “Blessed is the man that hath a virtuous wife, for the number of his days shall be doubled.” J6@“ A clear unblemished character com prehends not only the integrity that will not offer, but the spirit that will not sub mit to an injury: and whether it belongs to an individual or a community, it is the foundation of peace, of independance, and of safety! Private credit is wealth, pub lic honour is security, the feather that adorns the royal bird supports its flight; strip him of his plumage and you fix him to earth.— Junius. J6®“ A short time since, in Hartfordshire, England, were written on a grave rail these lines:— “ Remember me ns you pass by, As you are now, so once was I; Therefore prepare to follow me.” Underneath someone wrote:— “ To follow you I’m not content, Unless I know which way you went.” ©57“ All young people should avoid the use of slang words and phrases both in 1 speaking and writing. £ltljcit3 business Dircctorii. WM. If. WHITE, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL BOOK-SELLER, —AND DEALER IN — Stationery, Music and Musical Instruments , Lamps. Cutlery, Fumy Goods, b' r , Spc. Orders filled at the Augusta rates! College Avenue, Allien*, Oa. It. J. OTAVVVICH, B OOK BIN DER, (Over Che Southern Banner Office,) A THENS , GEORGIA. A EBON Ell ASH, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN Books, Stationery, Fancy Goods, Perfumery , Paper Hangings, ifc., Opposite College Campus, and under the Banner Office, Orders filled at the Augusta Prices ! ATHENS, UEOROIA. FB9M A €0. 9 —WHOLESALE 4c RETAIL DEALERS IN Hats, Caps, Hoots, Shoes, Tranks, &c. &c. Broad-Street, Athens, Georgia. vtugusta business Directoru. WITI. 11. TUTT, —Wholesale and Retail Dealer in— Drugs. Medicines, Paints, Oils, Dye-Stuffs, CHEMICALS, &.C., &0., AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. J AMES A. OKAY, Dealer in cheap Fancy if Staple Dry Goods, No. 2U3 Broad Street, Augusta, Go. CRESS A HICKMAN, DEALERS IN STAPLE & FANCY DRY GOODS, 208 South side BROAD STREET, Augusta, Ga. SCRANTON & STARK, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA, WHOLESALE GROCERS, Also, dealers in Bngging, Hope and Twine ; Nails, Iron, Salt, Ac., for Planters’ trade. PHILEMON A. SC RANTON, WILLIAM H. STARK. D. IS. I’LOIII A CO., Between U. S. Hotel and P. O. Corner—Augusta, Ga., Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, Paints, &c. Agent for Landreth’s Garden Seeds! ALBERT HATCH, —Manufacturer of and Dealer in— Saddles. Bridles. Harness, Trunks, Military, Equipments, ifc. ifc. ifc. Bioad-Street, in Metcalf’s New Range, Augusta. UNITED STATES IIOTE L, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. This house is in the centre ot business. Cljarlcston business Directoru. HARMONIC INSTITUTE. FERDINAND ZOGBAUM, IMPORTER OF MUSIC AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, King-Street, sign of the Lyre, Charleston, S. C. (Kh Also—Charles Zogpatm, Athens. Ga. WELCH & 110X0(15, BOOK BINDERS, Corner of Meeting Al Horlbeck’s Alley, Charleston. tip” Blank Books ruled to uny pattern, and bound in the best manner. S. B. WELCH, W. E. HONOUR. McCarter &. allen, BOOKSELLERS & STATIONERS. Charleston . South Carolina Have an extensive assortment of Law, Medical, The- ! ological, School and Miscellaneous Books, which I will be sold at the lowest rates! PAVILION HOTEL, BY H . L. BUTTERFIELD, [Formerly of thr Charleston Hotel,] CHARLESTON, S. C. GILLILANDS & HOWELL, Importers ami Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, No. 7 Hayne-Street, Charleston, S. C. GROCERIES. Fill I I S. CIGARS, ,v,. N. M. PORTER, (late W. L. Porter & Son,) No. 222 King-Street, third above Market, Have an extensive and varied Stock of Groceries, Fruits, Cigars. &c., suited to the wants of Families and Dealers, which he sells for the lowest prices for cash or city paper. 150 bis Refined Sugar at Factory prices. GEORGE OATES, 234 it 236 King-Street, [near the Bend,] Charleston, GEORGE A. OATES & CO., Broad-Street, Augusta, Ga. Dealers in Piano-Fortes, Music and Musi cal Instruments, Bunks, Stationery. Q-r. 11. STODI>AKI>, Wholesale Dealer in BOOTS, SHOES, &c., No. 13 Hayne-Streel, Charleston, 8. C. CHARLESTI)N J I< >TK L, BY D. MIXER, CHARLESTON, S. C. *♦* This establishment has been entirely remodelled and refitted in the most elegant manner. JOHN S. 151 ISO & CO.. Military, Looking-Glass anil Fancy Store, Sign of the Gold Spectacles, 223 & 225 King-Street, Charleston, S. C. Mathematical and Surveyors’ Instruments: Spectacles ami Optical Instrmnents, of all kinds; Plated Cast ors, Candlesticks. Cake Baskets, 4tc., Ilc. Oil Paintings and Engravings; Picture Frames made to order, and old Frames, re-gilt and made equal to new; Glasses and Pebbles fitted to Spectacles to suit all ages and sights. JOHN S. EIRD, J. M. TAYLOR, C. H. BIRD. JOSEPH WALKER, —DEALER IX — Paper, Stationery & Account Books. Book Binding and Job Printing. Also, Agent for the sale of Type, Presses, and Printing Materials of ull kinds, at New*York prices, uctual expenses only added. Constantly on nand a large slock of Type, Borders. Brass Rule, Leads, kc.; also, Printing Paper utid Printing Ink. 11. B. CLARKE & C 0.,! —I MPORTERS AND DEALERS IX — CLOTHS, CASSIMERES, VESTINGS, TAILORS’ TRIMMINGS. &e.. No. 205 Kjng.street, CHARLESTON, S. C. \VM. L. TIMMONS, General Importer of Hardware & Cutlery, East Bay,....Charleston, S. C. PROSPECTUS —OF THE SCHOOLFELLOW; A MAGAZINE FOR GIRLS AND BOYS. ISSUED IN MONTHLY NUMBERS OF 32 PAGES, ILLUSTARTED WITH ENGRAVINGS, AT THE LOW PRICE OF $ 1 per annum —In advance! uriIIE Publisher of Richards’ Weekly Gazette _L announces that he issued the first number of the above work last January, with a view of a Wor ding to the Boys and Girls of the .South a journal of their own, in which instruction and amusement shall be happily blended. The Schoolfellow contains articles, both origi nal and selected, from many pens that have writ ten charmingly for the young. We will mention I the names of Alary Howitt, Alias Bedgwick, Be lter Parley, Miss Mclntosh, Mrs. Gilman, Mrs. ! Joseph ('. Neal, Mary K. Lee, Miss Barber, and many others might be added. Many of the art icles in The Schoolfellow a-o beautifully illustrat ed, and the twelve numbers of one year make two | volumes of nearly 400 pages andoue hundred en gravings, of which, every boy and girl who may own it may be proud. Terms. —1. Each number contains 32 pages, and at least 8 engravings, and is issued on tin first of every month. 2. The subscription price is One Dollar a-year, in advance. To Clubs: 5 copies to one address, $4 ; 10 do., $8 : 20 Go $15.. HO* There arc many schools in which at least twenty copies may be taken, as the price to each i one will bo only seventy-five cents. Communication must be post-paid and addres- | sed to The Schoo?.fem.ow, Athens, Ga. j flCjp* Editors, exchanging with “ Richards* Gar | zette,” who will copy or notice fully this Pros- ; pectues, shall receive The Schoolfellow without urther exchange. (General wlbucrtisemcnts. GAZETTE JOB PRINTING AIST All T. XHXiC AO-: ATT. Pamphlets, SwR Circulars, Catalogues,/y., Show-bills, Magazines, Ijg ..jMEjjSXL j Programmes, llilj-heads, Leg. Blanks, 1 Not ices, Ilk. Checks,^ NEATLY AND EXPEDITIOUSLY EXECUTED Aft ftMs GOULD, KENDALL & LINCOLN, BOOKSELLERS AM) PUBLISHERS, No. oil Washington St., Boston. mm ATHENS, GA. ::::::::: by l. i. thomas. r PHK Subscriber, ns proprietor of this now and A well-furnished Hotel, expects, (from long exper ience, a disposition to please, and attention to busi ness,) to nmke it just such an Establishment ns the public wants. LOVIC P. THOMAS. January 6, 1849. frv 1 1-ly 3ST3BW OOK 8 “3? OXL DE! On Cotton Avenue, Macon, Geo. i JIIIK umloreigned have opened, as abc ,e, art A establishment for the salo of Books, Stationery and Fancy Goods. anti will keep on hand n full assortment of’ School and Miscellaneous Books,- together with plain and fancy Stationery, Music for the Piano Forte, &c. All’ of which they wil* sell Wholesale or Retail, at the lowest market prices. (SO- Orders for l aw, Medical anil Theolog ical Books, respectfully solicited J. J. & S. P. RICHARDS. Macon, Nov. 4, 1848. JAMES n*PHEHSON A ()., DEALERS IN BOOKS, STATIONERY, MUSIC, Musical Instruments, Fancy Goods, Paper-Hangings, Maps, fyc Ifc., ATLANTA. GEORGIA. PROSP EC T U S— OF— XL X U DBG A XL X) S ’ WEEKLY GAZETTE. OPING anew and much enlarged series of the J> “Southern Literary Gazette,”—the only weekly Journal, South of the Potomac, devoted to Literature and the Arts in general—and de signed for the Family Circle. The Proprietor begs leave to announce that, on Saturday, the sth of May, he issued the first number, for the second year, of this popular and well established paper,—the name and form of which he has changed, to enlarge the scope of its observation, and to otherwise increase its attrae tions. Less exclusively devoted, than heretofore, to Literature, the Arts, and Sciences, it will be the aim of its Proprietor to make it, in every respect, A CHOICE FAMILY NEWSPAPER, “ as cheap as the cheapest, and as good as the best!” Uttorly discarding the notion that a Southern journal cannot compete with the North ern weeklies, in cheapness and interest, RICHARDS’ WEEKLY GAZETTE shall be equal, in mechanical execution, to any of them, and, in the variety, freshness and value of its contents, second to none. Its field will bo the world, and it will contain, in its ample folds Every Species of Popular Information, Especial attention will be paid to the subject of SCHOLASTIC AND DOMESTIC EDUCATION. Numerous articles, original and selected, from the best sources, will be published weekly, on AGRICULTURE AND HORTICULTURE, and these departments, as, indeed, all ethers, will be frequently Illustrated with Wood Cuts.’ livery number will contain careful and copious summaries of the latest FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC NEWS’ In Cvimneiviii),,’tvti, Uotttical, and Eicslasri cal Affairs. At the same time, there shall be nothing in its columns that eau be consiilen.il ei ther Partizan or Se.-tarian. The following distinguished writers will con tribute to the Journal: Wm. Gilmore Simms , LL. D., Hon. Robert M. Char!ton, J. M. Le^ arty T. Addison Richards , Esq., Charles Lanman , Esq., Hon. B. E. Porter , •Mrs. Caroline Lee Ilentz, Mrs. Joseph C. Neal, •Mrs. E. F El left, • Miss Mary E. Lee, Caroline Howard, •Mrs. C\ IV. Du Bose, Miss C. \V. Barber, besides many others, whose name* are highly esteemed iu the “ World of Letters.” T EItMS: j Single copies, a-year, $2 00, strictly in advance. CLU B S : Os three supplied for ------ $5 00 Ot five for -- - - 800 Os ten for 15 00 Os fifteen for 20 00 (>f twenty for ------- -- - 25 00 Os fifty for 6*o 00 {&- All orders must be accompanied with the cash, and should be addressed, post-paid, to WM. C. RICHARDS, Athens,* Ga. N. B.—Editors who will copy, or notice fully, this Prospectus, shall receive the Gazette regu larly. and also a beautiful Juvenile Magaziue, entitled “The Schoolfellow.” May 3d, 1849. 1 ts INSI'IiAXfE COMPANY. WM. M. MORTON, AG’T AT ATHENS. Company is now firmly established, and X doing an extensive business. Kisks will bo taken not only in towns, but in the country, on Dwellings, Gin-Houses, Mills and Factories. The following parties are amoug the Stock holders of the (Company at this Agency : Asbury Hull. T. Bradford, Wm W. Clayton,, J. S. Linton, Albon Chase, Dr. 11. Hull, Henry Hull, Jr., E. L. Newton, I)r. E. R. Ware, F. Lucas, S. J. Mays, Y. L. G. Harris, C. B. Lyle,. A. J. Brady, George Pringle, M. E. McWhor ter, I). Holmes, Rev. Dr. Iloyt, L. J I.arapkin„ Bov. S. Landrum, J. J. Huggins, W. Baynon, T. R . R. Cobb, Dr. C.M. Reese, Green B. Hay good, Wm. C. Richards & Cos., and Wm. M- Morton. Parties, desiring to effect insurance nu their property in this vicinity, will make application to the subscriber. WM. M. MORTON. Athens, Nov. 25th, 1848. 290s • . Anew supply of Popular fcjy Sl m|l *V Uii j c ha * just been re l .\i\EKSITY BOOKSTORE. April 14. 48 Hooks, lationery ni<l Music. TAMES McPIIERSON & GO., he* leave to • I inform their friends ami the public that they have greatly increased their supplies of SCHOOL AND MISCELLANEOUS and are daily receiving, direct from New York I and Philadelphia, choice works in every depart- I ment of Literature and the Arts, together with. PLAIN AND FANCY STATIONARY, ! of every description, Loth American and Foreign. They have also a fine supply of CENTRE, SIDE AND SUSPENSION SOLAR TeAMPfk made by Cornelius & Cos., the best in the world, Atlanta, Ga., Feb. 10, 1848. o.s. AX A G X e X.JUST T2B XL Sr r ITtOR sale, at the University Bookstore, a good: ’ MAGIC LAX TE K N, with appropriate Lump ami .Sliders, which will he sold cheap. WM. N. WHITE. April 22. ONE HUNDAY-SCHOOL ÜBK AR Y of 100 volumes, —No. 2 of the A. $. £*. Union,— is for sale by WM. N. WHITE. Cash 1 ric*. f10.50