The temperance banner. (Penfield, Ga.) 18??-1856, February 26, 1853, Image 1

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VOL. XIX. ma vjkpjranos bapjas^r IS THE Organ i>f the Sons of Temperance AND OF THE State Convention of Georgia: PUBLISHED WEEKLY, Sly Ilunjainia ISrantly* \3T Teh Ms— l One Dollar a your, in ad tanci*; #1 50, if paid within six months : and $2 00 at the end of the year. No sub scription taken for less than a year. Letters must be Post paid, to receive at ention. § Baauei Almanack, for 1853 | A 5 5. O-FvsJ ~\ r. O : 5 ?\ 5 : S* -- s > 11 i “ iHiliiffllih (S-lau. —l —1 1 July— | —r - - —| V-S . ain tills la ii i•’> >’ m nit •-> • X ns it is pi y i 21 2: ii: ea i r’ a\ k a ri n -Ai 2.-|2<.29 -a 7’ x ■ • / Sp Ui .h. |! i : i->ii! iI,! \ fii! 2ai r, .i! 2i 1 i ■’ >. •N 1 : 7‘ a 1” 1112, 7 *1 l|-> 11. 7 , N SIS H 1.-> 11 17 1’ i-‘ HIS i'l'lT’i ■■’ \ 2\ |2 ‘,21122.2.1 21 i'i|2lj 21 22 27 :i 7 ‘ / ‘ £ | —712 5 1 I,: l| iJ- 2*. 75. i :I >; Q I■; 7's • hmi,i2: is r j . ;L IS 1 11 1 I 1.1 ,li 17 1 > I 1 1112 1■ If 17. II it 5 ft 121.21172.27 II 25 2rli IS Ip 2‘> -jl 22 2 A 27 2- 21 31 ii -’ 27 a) 2.1 SO t \ Sl’ HI, -i 2 Oct.- I 7 : 1,7, 6 7/ lx ‘ 3. I -V ti ;• 1 n, S 2 l” ! 11 12 I. Il\” ‘ V Mll 12 1,7 11 1.7 IT 7. ! 7,7; i. ,r 21 / O 17 Hlf 2 I‘ll 22 23; 27 “71”, 2 2. J. \7 21 77 21 27.2.1 2-.: 7. - ‘ ’’ t 71 i O , fHM.f—- I 2 t I .7 li 7, V’v— - . - || 2 11: 1 •) A 7 J 11. II I • 1.1 H -7 , . V 17 Hl7 I‘ll 21 211 Will r, I .:> \ ’ $ [22 21 21 27 27 27 2-i i'.V 7l 2. 2; 77 / Q 21.1”, 311 i I 2., 27.27,2, , \ 1 |l 2- 3 I D'C -I- I —-! I: 2 > (i j > 7 Si l'i 111 •*’ 1 •' C, 7 DC -12 n u r it i- h!i2;i.tii'i:> i; ; hi#. 2) 21 2: 2i 21 2-> 17, is;!!* >) 21 22": /. X !-■) 27,2a UV) \ i\.p 2'i 27 2- ... \ Kvery mm i-in W ‘iccominga drunkard wi.u is in \ v"? tlio h ihii. i.fiirin'.Mij: tr !'nt spirits, j 1. Wlwn hf >a \t;triu. \ 11 . When !i<- is at work. ( 2. VV:i n id; is c<>! 1. / 12. U'h-.-n he is idle. ~y 2S 3. \riienhtt is wet. ) ,?>. li--i<ire tneiila. / 4. W'lmi he >s dry. V 14. Alter meals. \ Var ii. VV’iien ue is ditU. I i.'. NV'hen liegets up. V J? rt. Wlm’h hei-ilive y. f ii>. \\ . n it- * -*ts to \ J 7. tV-.m he Ir.iwU. ) 17. On holii t tys. v <5. W'l • ho i-it It >tne. \ !S. <>n i’n ii : invasions, y ( i. W'hen he is in cotnp&ny I 19. On any day: or iO. W'iifH h’ is tlntio. ) 2*•. O'i any occasion. A l\ij“ livery friend to Temperanc.' S’ Cshoilid take the Tmnper<iiice /<“lf i’yinp.ranee men will not supportSj jjjjlhii Titiii|) ranee Press, who will MORAL AND UELfGIOI S. Scea9s of ui3 Last Judgmeat- VV# liave now befire ns a suliject which, for the magnilicence of the scene, tiie ina >4:.i 11 leofthe transaction, and tiie durable tdiects which ii draweili on, stands unrivalled in the annals of human knowledge, and witii which the powers of Conception cannot be brought t* contend. Imagination cowers her wing, unable to fetch the cm no ins of the ideal scene. Tie great wiiit* ! throne descending 0 it of heaven, guar ded and begirt with the principalities and powers liiovof—the awful pres ence at whoie sight the heavens an iho earth flee mvav, and no place ior them is found—the shaking of the mo thor elements of nature, and the coin motion of tiie hoary deep, to render up their long dissolved dead—the rushing together of quickened men upon all the winds of heaven down to the centre,’ where the Judge siltolh on his blazing throne—to give form and hgure and ut terance to the mere .circumstantial i pomp of such a scene, no imagination availeth. Nor doth the understanding 1 labor less. The arch-angel, with the! trump of God, riding sublime in the midst of heaven, & sending through the wildest dominion of death at.d the grave that sharp summons which divideth the solid earth, and rings through the cav erns of the hollow deep, piercing the dull cold ear of death and the grave j will) the knell of their departed reign; the death of death, the sprouting of the grave with vitality, the reign of life, the second birth of living things, the re union of the body and soul —the one from unconscious sloop, the other from apprehensive and unquiet abole—tin congregation of all generations over whom the stream of time hath swept — this outstretches my understundnig no less than the material imagery con fuses imagination. And when 1 bring the picture to my heart, its feelings are overwhelmed; when 1 fancy thisquck and conscious frame one instant re awaked, the next re invested, the next summoned before the fice of the Al mighty Judge—now re-begotten, now sifted through every secret corner tny poor soul, possessed with the memo ry of its misdeeds, submitted to the scorching eye of my Maker —m> fate depending upon his lips, my everlasting, Changeless fate—l shrink and -shiver with moral appn hension. And when I fancy the myriads of men all standing thus explored and known, 1 seem to hear their shiveri gs like the aspen leaves in the still evening of auturr n.— sale tear possessed! every countenance and blank conviction every quaking heart. They stand like men upon the edge of battle, withholden from Speech and pinched for breath through excess of struggling emotions —shame, remorse, moral apprehension, and trem bling ho;>e. Then the recording arigel openeth the book of G hJ’s remembrance, arid inqui sitions pr.-ci-edcth apace. A.n m they move quicker ihnn the movement of thought to the right and left, two most innumerable companies. From his awful seat, his countenance clothed w ith the smile which makes all heaven gay, the Judge pronounce!h blessing for ever and ever upon the heads ol his Disciples, and dispenaeth to them a kingdom prepared by (lod from the first of time. To their minds, seized w ith the tidings of unexpected deliver ance: it seemeth as a dream, and they wonder wiih ecstacy at the unbounded love oi their Redeemer. They wonder, and they speak their 1111 worthiness, bui they are reassured bv the voice of him that changed) not. Then joy soizelh their whole soul, anil assurance of im mortal h iss. Their trials are ended, their course is fi lished, the prize is won, and the crown of eternal life is laid up lor them in store; and they hasten io inherit ihe fullness of joy and pleasures for evermor -, which are at the right hand of God. Again, the Judge hfieth up his voice, Ins counte nance cljthed in that frown which din dele.iu hell, and ho pronounceth eternal perdition w ith the devil and his angels, upon the wretched people who despised and rejected hiiri on earti:. They re monstrate, but remonstrance is vain.— li is iiiiist) a! with hope, it is finished with mercy ; justice hath begun her terrible reign, to endure forever. Then arise from myriads to myriads, the groans and shrieks and throes of de-| spair; they invoke every mother ele ment ot nature to consume their being ! back to her dark womb; they call up on the. rocks to crush them, and the j hills to cover them lioin the terrible presence of the Lord and from his con ’sinning wrath. Such episodes of melt ing tenderness there will lie at this final parting of men ! such eternal farewells! but ah ! tiie world farewell hath forgot ten its meaning, and wishes of welfare now are in vain. Anew order of [tilings hath commenced • the age of i necessity hath In-gun his reiini • all change is forever s aled. This mighty crisis in the history of the human race, this catastrophe of evil and c i’iisummatioii of good, fortunate!” |.. ° , is not our ptovmce to clothe with living imagery, else our faculties would mis | give an i fail. REV. EDW. IRVING. Well Answered —Sir J. Maoism tosh asked a deaf nr.d dumb pupil in Furis: “Does God reason?” He replied: “ Cos reason is to hesitate, to doubt, to inquire; it is the highest attribute of limited intelligence. Gid sees all things, foresees all things, knows all things; therefore, God cloth not reason.” Kate Yale's Marriage- BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE. ‘lf ever 1 marry,’ Kate Yale used to say, half in jest, half in earnest —if ever I marry, th: happy man—or the un -1 happy one, if you please, ha! ha! shall be a person possessing these three qualifications : ‘First, a fortune.’ ‘Second, good looks.’ ‘And thirdly, common sense.’ ‘I mention the frrtune first, because I think it the most needful and desira ble qualification of the three. Although 1 could never think of marrying a fool, or a man whoso ugliness 1 could be ashamed of still 1 think to talk sense for the one, and shine for the other with a plenty of money, would be preferable to living obscurely with a handsome, in tellectual nun—to whom economy might be necessary. 1 donut know how much of this sen timent came from Kate’s heart. Site undoubtedly indulged lofty ideas of sta tion and style—for her education in the ; aims and duties of life had been defi cient, or rather erroneous, but that she was capable of deeper, better feelings, none doubled who have over obtained even a partial glance of her true wo man’s nature. And the time arrived at length, when Kate was to lake that all important step of which she had otten spoken so light ly ; when she was to demonstrate to Imr friends now much of her heart was in the words we have quoted : At the enchanting age of eighteen she had many suitors; but as she never gave a serious thought to more than two, we will follow her example, and discarding all except those favored ones, consider their relative claims. If this were any other than u true story, 1 should certainly use an artist’s privilege, and aim to produce an effect : by making a strong contrast between 1 ihe two favored individuals. It 1 could have my way, one should he a poor genius, and somewhat of a hero J the other a wealthy fool, and somewhat of a knave. Hut the truth is— Our genius was not much of a geni us, not very poor either, ile was, by professio i, a teacher ol mu se, and ile could live very comfortable in the e.x ----< ici-e thereat —'.t.on the most dis PENFLKLL), CIA. FEBRUARY 2(>, 1853. taut hope, however, of eve.’ attaining to I wealth. Moreover, Frgpcis Minot ;>os- j srssed excellent qualities, which enti- j tied him to be called by discreet elderly j people, ‘a fine chaster,’ by Ids compan- j ions a ‘noble good fellow,’ ami by the i ladies generally, a ‘darling.’ Kate could not help loving Mr. j Frank, and lie knew it. lie was eer j tain she prefeied his society even to; that of Mr. Wellington, whom alone! he saw (it to honor with the appellation i of a rival. This Mr. Wellington (his compan ions called him till’ ‘duke, ) was no idi ot or hump hack, as 1 could wished him to be, in order to make a good story. —; On the contrary, lie was a man ol good sense, education, good looks, and line j manners; and there was nothing of the | knave about him, as 1 could ever ascer- j tain. besides this, his income is sullicieut | to enable him to live superbly. Also, lie was considered two or three degrees j handsomer than Mr. F. Minot. Tiici. fore, the only thing on which j Frank had to depend, was the power he j p issessod over Kite’s sympathies and, all’ cti ms. The ‘Juke’—although just the mail tor her in every other sense,! being blessed with a soi tune, good looks, and common sense—lmd nev’ur been | able to draw these out, and the amiable! conceited Mi. Frank was not willing to! believe that she would suffer mere worldly considerations to cont rol the as pirations of her heart. However, she said to him one day, vlien he pressed her to decide his fate— and she said to him with a sigh— ‘Oh, Frank! { am sorry that wc have ever met !’ ‘S >rry ?’ ‘Fes—for we must part now— ’ ‘l’art! repealed Frank, turning pale, j It was evident lie hud not expected ’ ibis. ‘Yes—yes,’ sai 1 Kate, casting down her eyes with another piteous sigh. Frank sat by her side, he placed his arm around her waist, without heeding her feeble resistance; he lowered Ins voice, and talked to her until she—the proud K ito — wept —wept bitterly. ‘Kate,’ said he, then, with a hurst of i passion, ‘1 know you love me ! Bui i j you are proud, ambitious, selfish! Now \ ! if you would have me to leave you, say i ihe word, and 1 go ! ‘G )! murmured Kate, very freely— : ‘go ! ‘You have decided!’ whispered i Frank. J ‘! have !’ j ‘Then, love, farewell!” ile took her hand, gazed a moment | tenderly and sorrowfully upon her ! beautiful, tearful face, then clasped her j to Ins bosom. She permitted the embrace. She I even gave way to the impulse, and I twined her arms about his neck. Hut | in a moment her resolution came to her | aid, and she pushed him from her with | a sigh. ‘Shall ! go V he articulated. A feeble ‘yes,’ fell from the quiver ing lips. And an instant later, sho was lying upon the sofa sobbing and weeping pas | sionalely—alone. To teai the ten icious root of love out of her heart, had cost her more than she could have anticipated; and the certainty of a golden life of* luxury proved hut a poor consolation, it seemed, lor the sacrifice she had made. She lay upon the.sofa, 1 say, sobbing ami weeping passionately. Gradually her grief appeared to exhaust itself.— H r breathing became more regular and culm. Her tears ceased to {low; and at length her eyes and cheeks were dry. Her head was pillowed on her arm, and iier face was half hidden in a flood of beautiful curls. The struggle was over. Tin? agony was past. She saw Mr. Wellington on. ii r, and arose cheerfully to receive him. ilis manners pleased her; his station and fortune fascinated her mure, Ife off:red her Ids hand. Sue accepted it. A kiss sealed the engage men!—hut it was not such a kiss as Frank had given her, and she could not repress a l The re was a magnificent vveddin". Splendidly utlired, dazzling the eve with her beauty thus adorned, with ev ery thing around lu*r swimming in ihe charmed atmosphere of fairy.land, Kate gave her band lo the man her airihitio i, not her lovr—had chosen ! But certainly ambition could not have made a hotter choice. Already she saw herself surrounded by a ma<c nificent court, of which she was the acknowledged and admired queen. The favors of fortune were showered upon her; sue floated luxuriously upon the smooth and glassy wave of a charm ed life. Nothing was wanting in the whole circle of tier out waul ex istenc ■, to adorn it and make it bright with happiness.— But she was riot long in discovering that there w s some lung wan ing w t lin her breast. 1 Jer friend* were imee.- band tender, kind, and loving ; but all the attentions and allectionsshe enjoyed could not fill her heart. She had once felt its chords of sympathy moved by a skilful taiieli ; siio had known the heavenly charm ot their deep delicious harmony ; and now they were silent— motionless—inulll’d, so to speak, in silks and satins. The cords still and soundless, her heart was dead, none the less so because it had been killed by a golden shaft, having known and felt the 1:1’ of sympathy in it, unconsoled liv the life of luxury. In short, Katie in time became magnificently miserable, splen didly unhappy. Then u change became apparent to he,r husband He coulrt not long re. main blind to tlv fact that bis love was lint returned. He sought the company ot those whose gayety might lead him to lorget the sorrow and despair of his soul. This shallow joke was unsatis factory, however, and impelled by pow erful longings for love, lie went astray to warm his heart by a strange lire. Katie saw herself now in the midst of a iioriteous desolation, burning with thirst unquenchable by golden streams that flowed around her ; panting with a hunger not all the food of flattery and admiration could appease. She reproached her husband for de serting hw thus; and he answered with angry and desperate taunts of decep tion, and a total luck of love, which smote her conscience heavily. ‘You do not care For me,’ he cried— ‘then why do you complain that l be stow elsewhere the affection you have met with coldness?’ ‘But it is wrong, sinful,’ Kate re. sponded. ‘Ycr, 1 know it !’ said her husband fiercely, ‘his the evil fruit of an evil seed. And who sowed that seed' 1 Who gave me a hand without a heart ?- who became a sharer of my fortune, but gave me no share in sympathy ?—who devoted me to the fate of a loving, un loved husband ? Nay, do not weep, >1 ud clasp your hands, and sigh and sob with such desperation of impatience, lor 1 sty nothing you do not deserve to hear.’ ‘Very well,’said Kate, calming her self, ‘1 will not say your reproaches are undeserved. But granting that lam the c dd, deceitful tiling you call me— you know mis state of things cannot continue.’ ‘Yes, ! know it.’ ‘Well V Mr. Wellington's brow gathered darkly; his eyes flushed with determi nation; bislips curled with scorn. ‘I have made up my mind,’ said he, j ‘that we should not live together tiny longer. lam tired of being called the i husband of the splendid Mrs. Welling- ! ton. 1 will move in my circle; you I shall siiine in yours. I will place no j restraint on your actions, nor shall you; on mine. We will be free.’ ‘Hut tha world!’ shrieked Katie! trembling. ‘The world will admire you the same—and what more do you desire?’! asked her husband, bitterly. ‘This, marriage of hands, and not of hearts, is; mockery. We have played the farce long enough. Few know the conven-) tio ial meaning of the tem husband and wife\ but do you know what it should mean ? Do you feel that the only tr te union is that of love and sympathy ? I'lien enough of this mummery. Fare well. Igo to consult friends about the; terms of a separation. Nay, do not | tremble, and cry, arid cling to mo now— for I shall he liberal to you. As much of my fortune shall be yours as you desire.’ lie pushed her from him. She fell upon the sofa. From a heart torn with anguish she shrieked aloud : ‘Frank ! Frank ! why did I send you from me? Why wus I blind until sight brought mo misery /’ Sue lay ii|ion tho sofa sobbing and weeping passionately. Gradually her grief appeared to exhaust itself; her breathing became Culm ; her eyes and cheeks dry Her head Lay peacefully upon her at in, over which swept her di shevelled tresses—until, with a start, she cried, ‘Frank ! oh, Frank! come hack!’ ‘Here 1 am,’ said a soft voice by her side. She raised her head. She opened her astonished eyes. Frank was stand ing before her. ‘You have been asleep.’ lie said, smi- t ling kindly. “Asleep ?’ ‘And dreaming, too, I should say— not pleasantly either.’ ‘Dreaming ?’ murmured Katie; ‘and is it all a dream ?’ ‘1 hope so,’ replied Frank, taking her hand. ‘You could not mean to send me from you so cruelly, I knew ! So I waited in your father’s study, where 1 I have been talking with him all of an I hour. 1 came back to plead my cause : once more, and found you lieie, where I left you asleep.’ ‘Oh, what a horrid dream !’ murmur. O I Katie ri.l-l-: ,uuy to proll now to think of it. I thought l was married !’ ‘And would that ha so horrible V— asked Frank. ‘I hope, then, that you did not dream von were married to me.’ ‘No—l thought dial l gave my hand without my heurt.’ ‘Then if you gave mo your hand it wottid not be without your heart.’ ‘No, Frank,’ said Katie, her bright eyes beaming happily through her tears—‘and here it is.’ She placed tier fair hand in his—he kissed it in t ratispoi t. Aml soon there was a real marriage; not a splendid, but a happy one. fol lowed by a lifoef love and contentment; and that was the marriage ot Frank Minot und Katie Yale. CigatTi and Cognac. The Treasury tables for die past year will give us some curious and stri- I king facts. We are very apt to con- J sider the great grain-grow ing interest as ! one of paramount importance in this] country, and no doubt very many will i be surprised to learn, as they will by ! | Mr. Gortviu’s figures, that we smoke ! up in Havana cigars the whole export j jot wheut, and drink down in French! cognac, the entire export of Indian corn. ! In the fiscal year, ending ftOih June i last, the United Suites exported wheat to the value of #-2,555,2U!>. During the same time we imported l(i‘J,s(jy thousand of cigars from Cuba, valued j at an invoice cost of $(2,480,759, and I 149,020 thousand valued #554,918, ! from other ports. Os the latter, two j thirds were received from the Cause ; towns and Holland, where a large busi ness is done in imitating the Havana I cigar with American, or American and jollier tobacco mixed, and packing them in boxes made of Cuban cedar for (lie North European and American rnark lets. Soma idea may he formed of the ! difference between the Havana ci”ur I und the Gcnuuu from tiie uverage cost las slated in the custom returns. Those from Cuba are returned us costing #14,. j 53 a thousand, v* Idle the other kinds are stated at #3,71. These figures I demonstrate that nearly otie-lmlf of the I imported cigars retailed in this conn•! ‘try as “Havanas,” are spurious. To the estimate of the cost of cigurs I smoked by our population there are yet 1 other items to be added. Tiie entire I | importation dui iig die last fiscal year I is shown io have been 319,009 tliou j sands, costing according to uctnul en 1 I tries at the custom house, #2,985,107. | If to (Ids we add 9 per cent, for freight, j i insurance and charges, 40 per cent for | the duties, we have a sum of #4,358,- 230. To this we may again add 71-8 I per cent at the least as the importer’s j probable profits of jobber or second | dealer, on this 20* per cent fin- retailers’ j profits, and we liave a sum of over #O,- 000,000 expenditure for an article) wholly und entirely a luxury, and! which a portion of our community con- j sider as immoral, pernicious and uu- J healthy. Wbut tiie consumption of I home-made cigars is we have no statis- ! tics at hand to uscei taiu- The export of Indian corn during the | ‘ same period wus valued at #1,540,225, | and of meal $->74, tHtl, making together j ■i52,114,005. We have not at hand the 1 table of imports of liquors, but the re-; turns of the New York custom-house; slate that that city imported in 1852 French cognac and other brandies to the value of |l 1,404,0135. Allowing the New York figures to represent the six ty per cent, of’the total imports in tha country, this would give a cost value of imported brandy of #2,487,101. With out going into the minute calculations given above on the cost of cigars, wo may sately announce that six millions ofdollurs more are expended in this country (hr imported brandies. We are under the impression that some brandy n and imported is also consumed. We do not consider it necessary to continue this parallel further. Tin facts given above are sufficiently in struotive. The New York l imes, in which we find a portion of the above statistics, says, “that to run the compar ison ihrougli the provision list, we should find llial it requires all the hog ineut, 85,705,470, to supp art our watch fibs, and that we annually guzzle more champaigue and port and such like mixtures of ginpe arid alcohol, than all our \yt l and butter export, #2,- , 270,820, will pay fir.” In the U. S. District Court at New York on Wednesday, Captain Fitch, of the steamship Washington, was placed on trial, charged with smuggling bran dy and oth* r articles on board that ves sel, last fall. The penalty is, on con viction, a fine not exceeding #5,000, and imp': minent not more than two years. 1 lie purser and first, mate, also indicted for the same offence, will he; put on trial as soon as the captain’s case > is disposed of. Tnese trials are of a peculiar character, and excite a good { deal of interest. I • i ,1 be lb*' r “ Fur the Temperance Rumor. Jei feuson vn.t.K, Twiggs county, Feb. 12th, 1853. (H Hro. Brantly :—\ 011 have so been concentrating all the energy your mind, all the emotional v our spirit upon tlm subject of tempAj mice, tinit no communication, 1 stfl| pose, would be so welcome to you, 111 that which should record the sustainiHj thrift or the triumphant advance of tIH cause. ‘I lie resolute faith with whiefl you have descended on the shores of tin foe, burning, like the classic hero ol the wild coast of lSiittunnia, tho still that waft you—the oath which, lik<9 Hannibal at a Funic shrine, you havfl practically taken, of eternal war wiilw die ‘minister—the cool decision with! which you have embarked tho fortunes! of your family on the same tempest-1 rocked bottom, on which the fortunes ol temperance ride, are worthy of uIF admiration, and have been subjects of pleasing contemplation to your co-ad jutors in the work of reform. But a irueo to eulogy on tie. Manner, how well soever deserved. [ dipped my pen to inform your readers of a recent visit paid us by our intrepid champion, I lowlett. On the Ist day of February, a olourl ’ less sky over-hung njr village, and na- I lure, every where, wore a cheerful ex. ; peel. Hourly, the rustic Sons ol soil, were seen issuing from tho adjuvant country, and wending their eager way to the place where die orator was to unfold his theme. The notice of Mr. j I Fs. intended visit was short, and the assembly which listened lob:, address was not so large as was- desirable ; vt the speech wus heard with lively inter est ; and it is hoped that germs of good were deposited in the public mind which will soon receive ample development. I’iie audience—sire and matron, maid, cm ami lad, alike, forgot all other sub. ject of th mglit and feeling, in the in j tense excitement of the hour. The light weapons of keen and dazzling wit llcw incessantly amid the thunder ing urtillery of nervous argument, which shuttered the bulwarks of tho enemy, as the assault progressed. Again, at the close of the day, tho gifted speaker took the field, and with a martial front that wouldhuve graced a soldier who hud unsheathed a sabre, at A-usterlii/. or Jena, arrayed his strength in defence of legislusivu “intervention,” between the destroyer uni his prey.— Ilis strokes now, were more than ever forceful—bis ponderous falchion cleav ing lor him, a broad uvenno to the very centre of the adversary’s battle; and if the veteran ‘prince’ wus not annihi lated, u perceptible recoil pervaded his host, in short, conviction of tiio ira. mouse evils attendant on the use of al coholic slimulutits us a beverage, was fixed in tho minds of his auditory, and the courugo, the hope, and the zeal of tlie advocates of teuipoiunce, received a fine impulse- We urn sanguine that the approaching demonstration at At lanta, will he imposing, and arrest warn,- est attention at the Stale capital. Respectfully yours. J. R. DAN FORTH. i A Singular Cash of Hydrophobia- j—Mr. Martin of this county, informs 1 us of a singular development of this dis j ease. About three mouths ago, a fa jvorite mure of his was bitten by a dog supposed to he mad. The infliction of the bi;e was seen by one of tile servants and a neighbor, but nothing more win* ; thought ot it, and Mr. Martin was nut informed of tho circumstances. Tho i bile was upon the lips of the upper and lower jaw, on tho b it side of the head. From that time up to a few days ago she seemed well as usual, except a slight festering m tho wounded pluoo. j A few days before symptons of mad. ness presented themselves, sho had been ridden by Mr. Martin, and then seemed to he in excellent spirits and health. When she first begun to velop Iter ill-iieulih, lie put her ill a pound or lot, and then learned i that she had been bitten at the time stated. .She remained in the lost sev eral days befoie she died, and in the meantime the paroxysms ol madness were terrible. She lore off, on the fence and through, the whole side of her face which hurt received the wound and tore and hit off the flesh from her hones in’ ! every part of her body that could ■he reached- She died in horrible ugonies. For several days she would take no nourishment, uud being a favorite, line’ owner was unwilling to kit. her.—Si. Louis Paper. The wag of the Boston Post heralded the advent of St. Valentine, as tol lows: “St. Valentine is coming—the favor ite .saint both of Venus and Mornua— love and laughter; the patron ot tender sentimeit and good natured nonsense, hut no ~„i ol OUr ei no. ;|