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Officers Augusta tV. T. A Society.
Dr. JOS. A. EVE, President.
Dr. DANIEL HOOK, J
Rev. WM. J. HARD. > Vice Presidents
HAWKINS HUFF, Esq. )
WM. HAINES, Jr. Secretary.
L. D. LALLERSTEDT, Treasurer,
managers :
James Harper, E. E. Scofield,
Rev. C. S. Dod, James Godby,
John Milledge,
TK!£ F A jails. _
From the Southern Recorder.
To the People of Georgia.
Fellow Citizens :—On the 27th tilt.,
a small number of persons assembled in
Milledgeville, for the purpose of consult
ing on the great interests of agriculture.
After due deliberation, they adopted the
following resolutions:
1. Resolved, That an agricultural
Convention be held in Milledgeville on
the sth Monday in March next, to con
sist of delegates to be appointed on the
part of the different counties, and such
other persons as may be invited to par
take in the proceedings.
2. Resolved , That the different coun
ties be requested to appoint delegates ac
cordingly.
3. Resolved, That a committee of three
including the Chairman, be appointed to
draft and publish an address, in order to
promote the purpose of this meeting.
4. Resolved, That among other pro
ceedings, the committee recommend the
formation of agricultural associations, in
the different counties, and agricultural
meetings or associations, in the different
judicial circuits.
The undersigned are the committee
under the 3d resolution. They regret
that they have not been delegated by a
larger number of citizens, and especial
ly that they are unable to present the
great interests of agriculture in so com
manding a light as they desire. They
trust, however, that the day of small
things will not be despised; and they
proceed to the duty assigned them.
As inducements for our fellow-citizens
to concur in the movement which has
been attempted, they divert to the de
pressed state of agriculture, the imper
fect state of household economy, the
praiseworthy example of several agricul
tural associations, especially that of Han
cock, which has exerted so beneficial an
influence, and the stirring appeals re
cently made to our interests and our pat
riotism in several of our public journals.
Let not the failure to get up a Conven
tion on the 27th ult., arrest our efforts;
more determined endeavors may yet suc
ceed. It is only necessary to bring to
gether the increasing friends of our en
terprise. And we cannot but hope, with
the intelligent editor of the “Southern
Cultivator,” that, in a very few years,
almost every county in the State will have
its club, and that all of them will be but
branches of a great State Agricultu
ral Society.
Let, then, our fellow citizens forth
with get up county meetings and socie
ties; which, like the Hancock Club, may
do much good, if they go no farther.—
But let them extend the good by meetings
and associations in the judicial circuits
if they desire it; though the committee
are little apprehensive that these latter
may interfere with the ultimate purpose
of a State Society or Convention ; which
they desire by all means to see got up.
It is scarcely necessary to say that ag
ricultural associations will be merely
consultatory and advisory ; there will of
course be nothing compulsory in any
thing they may do. This is said in
view of the purpose entertained in the
attempt to get up a Convention on the
27th. It was thought desirable by some,
in view of the low price of cotton, to in
duce our farmers to reduce the quantity
in order to improve the price. That this
reduction would have this tendency there
can be no doubt. The reciprocal influ
ence of demand, price and supply is ob
vious. An increased demand is followed
by increased prices; increased prices by
increased supply; increased supply by
diminished prices; diminished prices by
diminished suppplies; diminished sup
plies by increased demand, increased pri
ces, and so on. A reduction in the quan
tity of cotton, then, would be followed
by an augmentation of price; more es
pecially as this reduction would enable
farmers, to prepare their cotton more care
fully for market.
But even if the price of cotton should
not be improved, the withdrawal of a
part of our labor from the production,
AUGUSTA WASHINGTONIAN.
A WEEKLY PAPER: DEVOTED TO TEMPERANCE, AGRICULTURE, & MISCELLANEOUS READINGS.
Vol. III.]
would enable us to employ it more prof
itably in other operations. It is disrepu
table. as well as ruinous, to purchase from I
others so many articles which might he
produced bv ourselves. It is absurd to
raise cotton at present or probable prices,!
to purchase horses, mules, cattle, hogs,
sheep, ordinary clothing, or other arti
cles, which might, and ought to be pro
duced at home. The countless thou
sands which are expended in this way j
ought to he retained among us. And we
are gratified to find that such is the pres- i
ent tendency. To continue and increase
this tendency is the desire of the com-;
in it tec.
It does not come within the present
purpose of the committee, nor are they
prepared to give the statistics which
would sustain their views. They confi
dentially rely upon the recollections of
their fellow citizens, aided by the devel
opements which are constantly mani
festing themselves, to make the proper
impressions.
Among the objects to which a part of
our efforts might he profitably directed,
are wool, silk, indigo, tohaco, butter, per
haps apples in some situations, &c.
Even if these would not be profitable
objects, the labor withdrawn from over
strained effoits to produce cotton, would
enable us to build or repair fences, build
or repair houses, collect manure, ditch
our hill sides, drain our low grounds, and
constantly add to the value of our land
and negroes, the intellectual and moral
improvement of ourselves and families,
and the prosperity and comfort of the
community.
Come up, then, fellow-citizens, to the
rescue. Though miserably lacerated,
good old Georgia contains within her
bosom all the elements of a great repub
i lie, and a happy people. All the inccn
i tives of interest and patriotism call on
you to say that her sun shall not decline
in the gloom which threatens her.
Your Fellow-citizens,
RICHARD ROWELL. )
LEROY SINGLETON, > Committee.
WILLIAM TURNER. )
Feb. Ist, 1845.
Tile Idiot Hoy.
We copy from (he United States Ga-
I zette the episodical portion of a letter
I from the editor, lately on a visit to the
coal mines of Mauch Chunk. Those
who do not read it will lose much.
THE SUMMIT.
This is the top, as its name (foi once
in Pennsylvania justly applied,) indi
cates. Here are the coal mines; here
is the machinery for raising, cracking
and sifting the coal. Here are the ap
plicants for the business; and here is
nothing that I could see but what had a
relation to the business—the schoolhouse
and church—being legitimate portions of
[the mining interests. One or two hand
some houses are here ; a tavern admira
bly kept by Mr. Simpson; a dwelling
belonging to some contractor or ofiiicer,
and most of the rest are shantees, in the
various meanings of that word.
The coal here is not mined, strictly
speaking—at least the soil and rocks are
not undermined—but the whole super
incumbent mass is removed to the extent
of thirty acres, and the beds exposed,
like a gravel pit. Here the workmen
are employed in the open air, exposed of
course to the upper temperature, and
light. There are, we learn, about four
hundred and seventy-five persons on the
Summit. They live in peace; and we
learn from the intelligent keeper of the
“ Summit House” that temperance and
constant employment were wonderful
peace makers and peace preservers.—
Busy, laboring people have too much to
do in the day time to dispute and arc [
too glad to get to bed to quarrel.
Having looked about a little, and ask- j
ed divers questions, I joined the company
at a well supplied dinner table, before
going among the laborers. I have found
it a goojd rule to do nothing upon an
empty stomach—eating always excepted.
Having discussed the viands of the host,
our company set forth with my friend
Foster as the well informed and polite
cicerone. We made quite a display as
we marched in rank entire up the road
any thing like echelon, platoon or the
movements, being inconsistent with the
state of the pathway then moistened by
rain. It was a pleasant sight to see com
pany pressing forward to the wonderful
exhibition of art and nature, the stupen-
AUGUSTA, GA. MARCH 1, 1845.
dous labors of man over the marvellous
productions of nature.
But somehow it is I seldom can be first
in such things; perhaps mv mind is nar
rower, suited to smaller fields of examina
tion. and prepared for the impression of
minute objects.
My attention was arrested by a group
of little children of both sexes making
their way slowly to the afternoon school.
[Some were bare legged, pretty ankles
theirs—pretty shaped I mean—for the
! exposure to mud from coal dust was not
favorable to color. Scarcely one was
I fully dressed, and vet decency had con
trived, with what was at hand to satisfy
her fastidious eye, and innocence was
there to gaze without a blush at acciden
tal exposure. It was a merry group,
gossipping about the events of the
morning, or the large possession of one
oft heir number who had acquired a whole
half of an apple and was sharing the
I wealth by sundry bites among the com
| pnny. All was as happy as the idea of
I going to school would permit. [Among
this interesting group of juveniles, one of
them the writer discovers, as he supposes,
from the low forehead, nervous move
ments and other eccentricks, to be an
| Idiot, and he goes on to state as follows.]
I was right—his face was completely idi
| otic. He stood at a distance with a va
cant stare at my little congregation. I
t beckoned him forward for 1 love to hold
converse with such; it is a sort of sym
; pathy which the weakness of one’s own
j mind has with the wreck of that of oth
ers.
I felt at home with the poor boy, and
did not envy the company that had stop
ped to admire a drove of mules just ready
for attachment to the cars. Mine was a
part of my own kind and more fruitful
theme for contemplation than theirs ; and
so after a word or or two with the poor
lad, I laid upon his hand a small silver
coin.
I thought for a moment that a spark
of intelligence flashed from his eye. He
continued however to hold his right hand
extended, in the palm of which lay the
money, and with the forefinger of the
other he felt the coin upon which he
gazed with a sort of sickening interest.
At length he mingled in ihe group of
school children and went round from
one to the other pointing to his wealth.
It was school time so they all set forth on
[their mission. Turning my head soon
after to see how my little friends pro*
| ceeded, I noticed the idiot hoy still hold
[ ing his freed hand extended, stopped sud
denly, and seemed for a moment per
plexed. At length he shut his hand
close, turned round at the top of his speed,
ran past me, and shot into a small shanty.
I longed to know what influenced the lad
thus to leave his fellows, but I did not
venture into the shanty.
As l approached that part of the road
that turned down toward the mines, I
felt a curiosity about some object at hand
! aud so I stepped over to the other side of
the road where was a woman at work,
with two little children, scarcely three
years old, one on each side of her. Hav
ing satisfied my immediate curiosity, I
had a word or two that seemed due to the
mother, so I asked about the family.—
“This is your child,” said I laying my
hand upon the curly head nearest me.
“Yes: I have three older and two
younger.”
Drawing from iny pocket a piece of
money at which, liberality would have
turned up its nose, I was giving it to the
child nearest to me, when the mother
seeing the movement, directed my hand
and the gift to the other one.
“ Not this one,” said she, “ not this one
if you please—this is mine—give it to
the other. Poor little Mary is an or
; phan—she has neither father nor mother.
Give it to her if you please. She stays
j with us, and we do the best we can for
her, but still she is an orphan.”
Spirit of woman’s benevolence, that
turnest aside from her own child to the
hand of the orphan—the orphan that yet
shares the bread and divides the affection
of her own offspring, let my selfishness
learn from thee! And as I gather up to
minister to paternal pride, mayest thou
direct my hand to the orphan and the
destitute, without the ostentation that
seemed to mark my present gift, and with
the true benevolence that shone in the
character of the mother on “The Sum
mit.”
Right marvelous was it to behold the
laborers in the coal pits. A gang here
was clearing away masses of earth; there
was a body of men scraping up the re-
fuse of coal. In another place the drill
was plied for a blast; and ever and anon, [
a train of cars would dash by without the j
least visible motive power, and almost di
rectly opposite, a single car would be seen
streaming towards a mass of coal. All I
seemed instinct with life, all was anitna- [
tion; while at times “ the heavy mules
securely slow,” was seen dragging up a
train of loaded cars, that had descended
without aid or touching. It was a won- 1
derful sight and right glad was I to keep
clear of the mules, car, prick and blast:
and while looking around for sabiv. I :
saw the idiot boy in the midst of what
appeared to he imminent danger.
“ Get out,” said a miner in a tone that [
commenced with much severity, but seem [
ed to dwindle down into a cadence of
kindness.
“Go home,” said another, “ the rock
will be upon you.”
“Take that,” said a third, as he threw
a piece of coal so wide of the hoy that
evidently he did not mean to hit him.
Still he stood gaping about in his usu
al stolidity, his eyes and mouth half open,
and evidently regardless of danger and
motion.
There was to be a blast and all must
clear out, but the hoy stood firm.
At length one of the miners cried out
to the other, “ now is a good time, iet us
go and carry off Katy.”
Scarcely were the last words pronoun
ced when a cloud seemed to pass across
the face of the hoy, and springing for
ward he ran up the cliff with the agility
of a young gazelle. He ran faster than
he did when I had given him the money.
What had moved him?
I enquired shortly afterward of one of
the miners, how he got clear of the lad.
“The poor innocent!” said he, “well
perhaps he is as well off as the best of
us.”
“ But you would not like to become
idiotic like him ?”
“No—l would not, especially if I
should have any remembrance of what I
had been. But the poor boy waked up one
day in his cradle in a fit; so violent was
it, and so often did it return that he lost
his reason almost in infancy. Never
perhaps was a human being so much be
reft ; he seems to have little curiosity
and no attachment, all affection is cen
tered in his mother, whom he calls ‘Katy,’
and his love for her is adoration ; he sits
by the hour and gazes at the poor widow,
and then goes and throws himself upon
her bosom in an agony of affection. He
seems to have some idea of devotion, and
I have seen him imitate before her the
action of worshippers in the church.—
Tho whole outpouring of the poor boy’s
heart is upon her; and his only joy is at
tempting to administer to her happiness.
He is a great annoyance to us down here,
whither he occasionally wanders—as,
knowing nothing of danger to himself,
he is continually exposed to danger, and
the only way we have of ridding our
selves of him is to threaten some injury
to ‘Katy,’ and though this threat is re
peated as he comes, yet he seems not to
doubt its sincerity, and he hastens away
to stand guard over his mother, and pre
vent her abduction.”
So the mystery of the hoy’s retiring so
rapidly from the school children to the
shanty with his piece of money was ex
plained. He was anxious to make Katy
a sharer in his pleasure—give to her the
inappreciable wealth he had acquired.—
It is not often that the love of mother
exceeds the love of God ; but He who
permitted that short-reaching of intel
lect will excuse the substitute and the
poor idiot may have a reward for “ hon
oring his mother,” when they shall stand
rebuked who affect to “love tho Lord
with all their hearts.”
Heading too l*ast.
There lived in the immediate vicinity
a respectable man, who had become in
terested in the subject of religion, and
who had begun with some earnestness to
search the scripture. He had read but j
few chapters when he became greatly
perplexed with some of those passages
which an inspired apostle has declared
“hard to be understood.” In this state
of mind he repaired to our minister for
instruction and help, and found him at
noon on a sultry day in summer, labori
ously engaged in hoeing corn. As the
man approached, the preacher, with pa
triarchal simplicity, leant upon the han
dle of his hoe, and listened to his story.
“ Uncle Jack,” said he, “ I have discov
ered lately that I am a great sinner, and
I commenced reading the Bible that I
might learn what to do to be saved. But
WASHIXGTOJiIAIV
TOTAL ABSTINENCE PLEDGE.
I
We, whose names are hereunto an
nexed, desirous of forming a Society for
our mutual benefit, and to guard against
a pernicious practice, which is injurious
to our health, standing and families, do
pledge ourselves as Gentlemen, not to
drink any Spirituous or Malt Liquors,
I Wine or Cider.
[No. 33
I have met with a passage here,” hold
ing up the Bible, “which I know not
what to do with. It is this, ‘God will
: have mercy upon whom he will have
mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.’
!AV hat docs this mean ?” A short pause
I intervened, and the old African replied
as follows:
| “ Master, if I have been correctly in
-1 termed, it has not been more than a day
! <>r t' v ° since you commenced reading the
Bible, and if I remember rightly, that
ssage you have mentioned is away
yonder in Romans. Long before you get
o that—at the very beginning of the
| gospel —it is said, ‘Repent, for the king-
I don! of heaven is at hand.’ Now, have
: you done with that? The truth is, you
read entirely too fast, lou must begin
again and take things as God has been
pleased to place them. When you have
done all you are told to do in Mathew,
come and we will talk about Romans.”
Having thus answered, the preacher
resumed his work, and left the man to
his own reflections. Who does not ad
mit the simplicity, and good sense char
acterized in this reply? Could the most
learned polemic more effectually have
met and disposed of a difficulty ? The
gentleman particularly interested in this
incident, gave me an account of it with
his own lips. He still lives, and will, in
all probability, see this statement of it.
Most readily will he testify to its strict
accuracy ; and most joyfully will he now
say, as he said te me then, “ It convinced
me most fully of the mistake into which
j I had fallen. I took his advice ! I saw
its propriety and wisdom, I hope to bless
God/orover for sending me to him.
Hope.
“ Cultivate the faculty of hope. It is
better than money—for the more you
use of it, the larger it grows.”
Very true—there is nothing like hope
fulness—hope on, hope ever. To be
sure, most of us find that when our hope
is realized, it is not the thing we ex
pected it to he. The point has been at
tained ; hut it is often that distance lends
enchantment to the view, and we are
rather disappointed in the results of our
own success. But what of that ? Js it
not a provision to keep us from indolence
and stagation ? Away, then, after another
hope—start hopes in succession, for the
exercise and health of your spirit. Al
ways have something to look forward to ;
and cultivate the hoping faculty as an es
sential constituent of happiness. He
who is done with hoping is a living death.
His vitality is exhaused, and grim des
pair demands him as her own. Combat
such apathy with all your might. Com
pel yourself to lake interest, even if it
be only in trifles. Be in this respect, as
much like a child as you can : and if the
prospect of a new hat, or of another
pair of shoes, can tickle your fancy, why
should you not enjoy the emotion ? Mis
anthropy often affects to despise those
who feel grent interest in small things;
hut let it revel, if it can, in bitterness:
the wiser part is to extract honey from
every flower, however humble and insig
nificant—a multitude of little hopes are
pleasant companions, to swarm around
our footsteps.— Neal’s Gazette.
Test of lll.Breeding.. -The swagger
er is invariably an impostor; the man
who calls loudest for the waiter, who
treats him worst, and who finds more fault
than any one else in the room, when the
company is mixed, will always turn out to
be the man of all others the least entitled,
either by rank or intelligence, to give
himself airs. People who are conscious
of what is due to them, never display ir
ritability or impetuosity; their manners
ensure civility—their civility ensures res
i j>ect; but the blockhead or coxcomb,
i Hilly awaro that something more than
lordinary is necessary to produce an ef
fect, is sure, whether in clubs or coffee
rooms, to be the most fastidious and cap
jtious of the community, the most restless
and irritable among his equals, the most
cringing and subservient before his su
j periors.
A Scotch writer, who seems to have
had some experience to qualify him for
speaking on the subject, says, “If you
have not chosen a profession, do not
become an editor. Beg—take a pack—
keep lodgers—take up a school—set up
a mangle—take in washing. For hu
manity’s sake, and especially your own,
do any thing rather than become a news
paper editor.”