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PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY JAMES McCAFFERTY, MACINTOSH-STREET, OPPOSITE POST OFFICE. Terms of Paper. —For a single copy, one year, Two Dollars: for sircopies, Ten Dollars; for thirteen copies, Twen ty Dollars, payable in advance. Advertisements will be inserted at 50 cents per square for the first insertion, anu cents for each continuance — Twelve lines tocoustitute a square. A liberal deduction to yearly advertisers. ?jT No letters taken from the Post Office unless postage free. Officers Augusta W. T. A Society. Dr. DANIEL HOOK, President. Rev. VVM. J. HARD, J “ C. S. DOD. > Vice Presidents HAWKINS HUFF, Esq. ) WM. HAINES, Jr. Secretary. L. D. LALLERSTEDT, Treasurer. Froin the Cresentand the Cross. The Jews of Palestine. The Jews are very fond of news, and very partial to foreigners, particularly the English. I introduced myself to a venerable and noble looking Hebrew in the streets one day, bv asking my way to the Poor of Hezekiah, whither he ac companied me, and afterwards invited me to his house. We entered by a very humble doorway from the silent street, and passing through a dark gallery of some length, entered a large apartment which equalled in oriental luxury any thing that I had yet seen. The ceiling was slightly arched, and crusted with stalactites of purple and gold, that ap peared to have oozed out from some rich treasury above. The walls were of pannellcd cedar, or some such dark and fragrant wood,'exquisitely carved ; the curtains of Damascus silk were gathered into thick folds between pilasters of •dar, polished, yet rugged with the rich carving. The windows were without glass, but the foliage of some orange trees soften ed the sunshine into a delicious gloom, lending all the effects of painted glass, with the addition of quiver which added coolness to its shade. The furniture was simple, as is customary in the East, and consisted only of divans, or wide silken cushions, ranged round the walls, hut little elevated above the floor. This was of marble mosaic, wrought into flor al emblems, such as hells, pomegranites, Ac., with a white marble basin of clear water in the midst. A rich tufted car pet, in which the foot sank as in a mead ow, was spread in each corner of the upper end, and leaving our slippers on the marble floor, wc took our scats on the divan. When seated, my host laid his hand upon his breast and repeated his wel come. He then clapped his hand, and pipes—an unusual luxury among the Jews—were brought by two little black slaves, with white tunics and scarlet caps. They retired, and we smoked the pipe of repose in such luxury and cairn as my troubled pilgrimage had seldom known till then. I should have sup posed myself in some Pasha’s seraglio, but for the garbadine and dark turban of my host, and that firm look of lofty de termination that is to be seen on every Hebrew brow, undimmed by the disas ters and degradations of two thousand years. My entertainer spoke with respect of Bishop Alexander, and of the other missionaries; he said he gave them credit for the best motives, hut it was all in vain to hope to proselyte his people. “The Romans,” he added with enthusi asm, ‘‘could not condemn Manlius in sight of the Capitol, and the hill of Zion, is not a likely spot for a Jew to forsake the faith of his forefathers.” “ The Christians do not honor Zion less,” I ob served, “because they also point to Cal vary. They go with you hand in hand as tar as regards this world’s sacred his tory, and far beyond them then, into a heaven w hich you had hoped for from the days of Abraham, and which you will not receive, because different from that which you expected.” The dark eye of the Hebrew literally glowed beneath his gray and shaggy eyebrows, as he raised his arm in vehement gesticulation and contrasted strangely with the repose of the rest of his drapered figure. “Eng lishman,” he exclaimed in a voice that seemed to gurgle from his heart, “you know not what you say.” Suddenly the door opened, the tapes try that hung over it was moved aside by a beautifully rounded arm on which jewels gleamed, and there stepped forth a female form which fascinated my at tention as if it had been a vision. Im agine a Rebecca, in all the chastened pomp of dress and beauty that Sir Wal ter Scott has painted with such vivid words —even such as she stood before me, a glorious embodiment of all the best attributes of her pure and noble race. Such might have Eve herself have been, so might her daughters have looked when angels sought their mortal love. Miriam, Jae!, Judith and the gen- AUGUSTA WASHINGTONIAN. A WEEKLY PAPER: DEVOTED TO TEMPERANCE, AGRICULTURE, & MISCELLANEOUS READINGS. Vol. III.] tie Ruth, all the heroic spirits under that form (but not the maid mother) I know j not how she was dressed, I scarce know how she looked ; but I have a memory before my eyes that seems still to con fuse, as it dazzled then. I onlv remember a light gauzy turban, with a glittering fringe, falling graceful ly over the shoulder; masses of black and shining hair that made the forehead and delicately brown cheek look as fair as a Circassian’s; if a thought of luxury hovered upon the richly rosy mouth, it was awed Into admiration, by the large dark eyes, so fearless, yet so modest, glancing around as if they read a mean ing in every thing and every where, yet calm and self possessed in their con sciousness of power. She carried a lit tle tray, on which I believe were sweat meats and sherbets, and bent gracefully ! forward to offer her refreshments. I started to my feet, and addressed her | some words in Italian, to which she only i replied with a shake of her head, and a j faint smile ; she then drew back, while her sister, whom I had not noticed until now, came forward with another tray, containing I know not what. I was rath er bewildered by the whole scene, and felt that l was embarrassing by not ac cepting the hospitalities of my fair host ess, while a quiet smile played over the features of my venerable host. I need not say 1 was very anxious to | make the most of this rare opportunity of | seeing the daughters of Israel in their own home; yet I confess I experienced a sensation of relief when the Jewish maidens retired, and 1 was left again alone with my entertainer. Controver sy was now out of the question. We avoided the subject by mutual consent, and feeling the Eastern restraint which prevented me from alluding to the sub ject then uppermost in my mind, I only asked whether he considered that there was a perceptible increase in the number of his people at present in Jerusalem. He replied, “that the time was not vet arrived.” “ Many now have their eyes fixed on Zion,” lie continued, “and a slight matter that we know not of might direct multitudes to this spot; at pres ent we are not more than 4000 in Jeru salem; but if our Rabbis were to speak, ten times that number would arrive here before the next passover. “ 'There is barely means of subsistence at present for the numbers within the city, and our poverty and Turkish op pression prevent the country round from being brought into cultivation.” As he spoke of poverty, I glanced round the splendid apartment, and he added, “It is the mass of our brethren who are poor, even to extremity, are supported entirely by alms from us, and the Jews of Eu rope; any of us who are possessed of wealth, take some pride, perhaps, of the exhibition of it in our houses; which ought to be. But I must ask you to ex cuse my taking my leave of you unless vou would wish to accompany me to the synagogue, whither I ain now obliged to go.” We passed out through the dark passage and mean gate, into the dirty street, and afterward, when I sought that house again, I could not even iden tify it among the squallid dwellings with which it was surrounded. Nor did I ev er see my host after I parted from him at the door of the synagogue. Singular Tradition. Among the Seminole Indians there is a singular tradition, regarding the white man’s origin and superiority. They say that when the Great Spirit made the earth, healso made three men, all of whom were fair cornplexioned; and that, after making them, he led them to the margin of a small lake and bade them leap there in and wash. One immediately obeyed, and came from the water purer and fair er than before; the second hesitated a moment, during which time, the water, agitated by the first, had become slightly muded, and when he had bathed he came up copper-colored ; the third did not leap in till the water became black with mud, and he came out with its own color. — Then the Great Spirit laid before them three packages of bark and bade them choose and out of pity for his misfortune in color, gave the black man the first choice, He took hold of each of the packages and having felt the. weight, chose the heaviest; the copper-colored one then chose the second heaviest, leaving the white man the lightest. When the packages were opened, the first was found to contain spades, hoes and all the im plements of labor; the second enwrap- AUGUSTA, GA. JUNE 28, 1845. ped hunting, fishing and warlike appa ratus; the third gave to the white man, pens, ink, and paper—the engine of the mind—the means of mutual mental im provement—the social link of humani ty—the foundation of the white man’s superiority. From the Advocate of Peace. Explosion of a Bomb Shell. BY JOHN S. ABBOTT. A few weeks ago there was an accidental ! explosion of a bumb shell in Charlton Street, New York. And as I chanced to be at the spot but a few moments after the explosion, I will give you a descrip tion of the terrific scene, as it met my eye. I was sitting in my house, about a quarter of mile from the place of explo sion, at 4 o’clock P. M., when the whole house was shaken by the report of appa rently the heaviest piece of artillery. I was just preparing to go down in town, and taking an omnibus, soon saw a mul titude of men and boys running towards Charlton Street, in a moment more a crowd came around the corner of Charl ton Street into Hudson Street, bearing the body of a well dressed man, upon a window shutter. They crossed the street directly by the omnibus, and I observed that the whole back side of the head was blown off, and the blood and brains were dripping down the shutter. Perceiving indications of great excitement in the rapidly gathering crowd, and hearing exclamations of “ explosion,” “ terrible explosion,” &c., I left the omnibus to learn the cause of the disaster. Enter ing Charlton Street, guided by hundreds who were rushing to that point from nil quarters, I observed on both sides of the street, for a little distance, that the win dows were entirely demolished, the frames in many places blown in, doors, shutters, and holes blown actually thro’ the sides of houses. In one place, forty rods, I should judge, from the spot where the explosion took place, a hole was blown through the front of a frame house, large enough for a man to enter. Upon the side walk, in front of a shop of old iron, lay in disorder, some thirty or forty rusty bomb shells, about eight inch es in diameter. It was said by the crowd that a man had one of these between his knees, endeavoring to loosen the charge with a stick, when it exploded, producing this scene of destruction and carnage. The body of this man was torn to pieces, and scattered in fragments through the streets. Observing a crowd gathered a round an object in the street at a little distance, I approached it, and saw, appa rently, a large piece of butcher’s meat, which a boy was pushing about with his foot. On examining it, it proved to he the lower portion of a man’s leg, with the crushed bones, and mangled flesh.— “ The other leg,” said a by-stander, “ was blown over into Hudson Street.” A crowd was collected round a window all gazing at some object. It was a man’s hand, the fingers burnt, and crushed, and having been torn from the body, and thrown with violence a gainst the brick wall. The mangled trunk of the unfortunate man, headless and limbless, had been carried into the house, and the shrieks of his wife were heard over the bloody remains. Upon an iron window frame lay the torn and bloody body of another man. A frag ment of the shell had torn away one half of his head. He was dead. His blood and brains were dripping .’own upon the pavement, and a day laborer had thumb and finger upon his eyes, to close them forever. Two young men who happened to be passing by in the middle of the streets, were literally blown up into the air, and fell with bro ken and mangled limbs upon the pave ment. They both died, I believe, the next day. In the street lay a horse dead, and it was singular that he also had the whole of the back of his head torn off by a fragment of the shell. A beautiful wagon to which he was attached, was also demolished, the spokes of the wheel broken, and the vehicle almost torn to pieces. Such was the devastation produced by the explosion of one single shell. And yet this shell did but perform its func tion. It was made for this very pur pose—to distroy property and life. It was made to be thrown into the crowded streets of a city, there to explode, and blow up houses, and tear limb from limb. This was the function of the instrument. And this is war. To throw such mis siles as these into the crowded streets of a city, is the business of war. As I looked upon this scene, and witnessed its carnage and woe, and reflected that it was the work of one single shell, and then reflected upon the consternation and horror which must be produced by raining down a shower of these shells upon a city, crushing their way through the roofs of the houses, exploding in the chambers of the dying, or in parlors where mothers, and daughters, and in fant children are gathered in terror, nev er did I so deeply feel before the hor rors, —the unmitigated iniquity of war; never before did I so deeply feel that it was the duty of every one who has a voice to speak, or a pen with which to write, to devote all his influence to pro mote the abolition of this fiend-like work. When Napoleon, with his blood-stain ed army, arrived before the walls of Vi enna, he planted his batteries, and in less than ten hours threw three thousand of these horrible projectiles into the city. Three hundred of these bomb shells ex ploded every hour, five every minute in the streets and dwellings of this crowd ed metropolis. Who can imagine the terrors of that dreadful night when, a ntid the thunders of artillery, the cry and the uproar of contending armies, and conflagrations breaking out on every side, these terrible shells, like fiery mete ors with portentious glare, were streaking the air, and descending like hail stones upon the doomed city. Crashing through the roofs of the dwelling, they exploded at the fire side, in the very cradle of the in fant, blowing their mangled limbs, with fragments of their demolished homes, far and wide into the air. In this way Na poleon conquered Vienna. In this way England conquered Canton. And in this demoniac work thousands of our countrymen arc now ready to engage for the acquisition of Texas and Oregon. The whole city of New York was thrown into excitement by the tale of the explo sion of this one shell, and there is scarce ly a newspaper in the land which did not record the dreadful story. And yet it is the business of war to cast these shells by thousands among the men and boys who crowd the ships of the navy and the merchant fleet, and among the aged men, the mothers, the maidens and the children who throng the dwelling and the pavements of the city. 0 merciful God, save the nations from the horrors of war! Puuctuatiou. To show the necessity of not merely using points, but of punctuating proper ly, examine the following passage: “ The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller a clergyman his son a law yer Mr. Angelo a foreigner his lady and a little child.” This passage, thus written without points, is unintelligible: by different modes of punctuating it, several altera tions may be made in its sense: not on ly as to the number of persons in the coach, but, also, as to their country, pro fessions and relationship to each other. By a change of points, the lady may be described as the wife of either one of two persons: Mr. Miller’s son may be made a clergyman, or a lawyer, at will; or, his son may be taken from him and given to a clergyman, whose name is not mentioned. The following variations, by use of points, will equally amuse and instruct: (1.) “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller, a clergyman, his son, a lawyer, Mr. Angelo, a lbreigner, his la dy, and a little child.” By this mode of pointing, it would ap pear that there were eight individuals in the coach, namely, a clergyman, a law yer, a foreigner and his lady, a little child, Mr. Miller, Mr. Angelo, and the clergyman’s son. (2.) “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller, a clergyman; his son, a lawyer; Mr. Angelo, a foreigner; his lady; and a little child.” This change in the punctuation would reduce the parties in the coach, exclu sive of the lady and child, to three per sons; and make Mr. Miller himself a clergyman, Mr. Miller’s son a lawyer, and Mr. Angelo a foreigner. (3.) “The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller; a clergyman, his son; a lawyer, Mr. Angelo; a foreigner, his lady, and a little child.” Here Mr. Miller’s son becomes a cler gyman, Mr. Angelo, a lawyer, and the lady and child, those of a foreigner, who is nameless. (4 ) “The persons inside the coach WASHINGTOWIAIf TOTAL ABSTINENCE PLEDGE. We, whose names are hereunto a*r 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, j Wine or Cider. [No. 50 were Mr. Miller; a clergyman, his son; a lawyer; Mr. Angelo; a foreigner, his lady; and a little child.” Mr. Angelo here ceasps to be a law yer ; there is no longer a foreigner who is the husband of the lady and father of the child ; but the lady is described as be ing a foreigner, and Mr. Angelo’s wife; and the child is not understood as being a-kin to any person in the coach. Other alterations might be made in the sense of this passage by altering the punctuation; but sufficient has been done to show the necessity of pointing a passage so as to accord with the fact it is intended to relate. The Death of a Child. And no one feels the death of a child as a mother feels it. Even the father cannot realize it thus. There is a va cancy in his bosom, and a heaviness in his heart. There is a chain of association that at set times comes round with its broken link; there are memories of en deaVment, a keen sense of loss, a weep ing over crushed hopes, and a pain of wounded affection. But the mother feels that one has been taken away who was still closer to her heart. Her’s has been the office of constant ministration. Every gradation of feature has devel oped before her eyes. She has detected every new gleam of intelligence. She heard the first utterance of every new word. She has been the refuge of his fears; the supply of his wants. And every task of affection has woven a new link, and made dear to her its ob ject. And when he dies a portion of her own life, as it were, dies. How can she give him up with all these memo ries, these associations? The timid hands that have so often taken hers in trust and love, how can she fold them on his breast, and give them up to the cold clasp of death ? The feet whose wan derings she had watched so narrowly, how can she see them straightened to go down into the dark valley ? The head that she has pressed to her lips and her bosom, that she has watched in burning sickness and in peaceful slumber, a hair of which he could not endure to see harmed, O! how can she consign it to the chamber of the grave ? The form that not for one night has been beyond her vision or knowledge, how can she put it away for the long night of the sepulchre, to see it here no more? Man has cares and toils that draw away his thoughts and employ them; she sits in loneliness and all those memories, all those sugges tions, crowd upon her. How can she bear all this? She could not, were it not that her faith is as her affection and if the one is more deep and tender than in man, the other is more simple and spontaneous, and takes confidently hold of the hand of God.— Rev. E. H. Chapin. The British Naval Forces on the Bra zil and African Stations. —Great Bri tain is well prepared in case of war to attack the commerce of this country, and cut off half of it at almost a single blow. A large portion of her naval ar mament is placed in a position favora ble to this object. On the coast of Af rica Great Britain has some forty ves sels of war, carrying about five hundred guns; and on the coast of Brazil twelve war vessels, carrying about two hundred and fifty guns; and all ready for action either on the Atlantic, on the track of American commerce to Asia and the Pacific, or on our coast. The value of commerce which would be at the mercy of this naval force is immense. East of the Cape of Good Hope it is very near twenty-six million of dollars; and the value of the commerce of the Pa cific is already immense, and annually growing in value and importance. The whaling business alone has become one of the most important of our maratime interests, as well from the capital and enterprise engaged in it as from the vast amount of wealth which it annually draws from the great deep. Our wha ling fleet now counts six hundred and seventy-five vessels, the greater part of which are ships of four hundred tons burden, amounting in all to two hundred thousand tons. The value of the whale fleet is estimated at not less than twen ty-five millions of dollars. Our Gov. ernment, remarks.the Ledger, will no doubt keep these facts before it, and be amply prepared to afford the necessary protection to these important interests if affairs should assume such a character as to require it. —Bolt. Sun.