Temperance crusader. (Penfield, Ga.) 1856-1857, March 29, 1856, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

. T ; • 1 ~ ■ ■ i-i t■— pwih.iml ■ ■ 1 : ‘ --m * “ • -.i ■ J i f'W *f • mmMm” JOHN HENRY SEALS.) A * N ’f > Editors. L. LJNCOLN VEAZEY, ) NEW SERIES, VOL. I. CRUDER. ri’OMSBKO EVER**SATURDAY, EXCEPT TWO, f* THE YEAR, BY JOHN 11. SEALS. TETtMS ! SI,OO, in advance; or $2,00 at the end of the year. KATES OF ADVERTISING, 1 square* (twelve lines or ie.-s) first insertion,. .$1 00 Each continuance, • °0 Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 3 00 Announcing Candidates for Office, 3 00 ST A XDING ADV EETISEMEXTS. 1 square, three months, £ 1 square, six months, 7 00 1 square, twelve months, 1~ 00] a squares, ■■ “ * “ “ 400 Advertisements not marked with the number of insertions, null he continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. fßy*Mcrehants. Druggists, and otliors, may con tract for advertising bv the year, on reasonable terms. REGAL ADVERTISEMENTS. f?ale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,... •• 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,... H 25 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, *3 2u Notice for Leave to Sell, L 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adni’n. 5 00 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, - 25 LEGAL REQUIREMENTS. Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hqprs often in the forenoon and three in the after noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a public gazette forty days previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property inus*t be given at least ten days previous to the day of sale. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must he published weekly for two months. Citations for Letters of Administration must be published thirty days—(or Dismission from Admin istration, monthly, six months —for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished monthly for four months —for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has been given by the deceased, the full spax-e of three months. will al ways be continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unions otherwise ordered*. The Law of Newspapers. 1. Subscribers who do not pfvo express notice to the contraiy, sue considered as wishing to continue their subscription. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their newspapers, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their newspapers from the offices to which they-are di rected, they are held responsible untH they have set tle*! the hills and ordered them discontinued. 4. If subscribers remove to other places without informing the publishers, and the newspapers are sent to the former direction, they nro held responsi ble. 5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving them uncalled for, is jrrima facib evidence of inten tional fraud. G. The United States Courts have also repeatedly decided, that a Postmaster who neglects to perform his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by the Post Office Department, of the neglect of a per son to take from the office newspapers addressed to him. renders the Postmaster liable to the publisher for the subscription price. *, JOB PRINTING, of every description, done with neatneps and diapateh, I at this office, and ut reasonable prices for cash. All orders, in this department, must be addressed to J. T. BLAIN. prospectfs or Tnn TEMPERANCE CRUDER. {quondam] TEMPERANCE BANNER. t CTUATEm >y a conscientious desire to further the cause of Temperance, and experiencing j'reat disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in space, by the smallness of our paper, for the publica tion of Reform Arguments and Passionate Appeals, we have determined to enlarge it to a more conve nient and acceptable size. And being conscious of the fact that there are existing in the minds of a lar-'e portion of the present readers of the Banner and its former patrons, prejudices and difficulties which can never be removed so long m it. retains the mine we venture also to make a change in that par- S II will henceforth be cnIW, “THE TOM- PtRASCE OBCS4DER.” This old pioneer of the Temperance cause is des tined vet to chronicle the triumph of its principles. It has stood the test—passed through the “dory fur „„pe ” and, like the “Hebrew children, ’ re-appeared It n scorched. It has survived the newspaper famine which has caused, and is still causing many excel lent journals and periodicals to smk, like “bnght ex halations in the evening,” to rise no more, and it has even heralded the “death struggles of many contcm noraries, laboring for the same great end with itself Kil lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,” s now waging an eternal “Crtisado against the “In fernal Liquor Traffic,” standing like the “High Pnost. of the Israelites,, who stojd the people and the rdagne that threatened destruction. We entreat the friends of the Temperance Cause to e-ive us ttoeir influence in extending the usefulness S she paper. We intend presenting to the public a sheet worthy of all attention and a liberal linage: for while it is strictly a Temperate* we s V a J endeavor to keep ft* reacts'posted on all the current events throughout the country. Editor and Proprietor, pesfleld, #*., Dec. §, 1856. Srtotei! ti (Tcmpmuict. JPsntlitg, literature, (fotttal Jnltlßgmct. ftttos, fa. For the Temperance Crusader. EXTRACT FROM A LECTURE ON PHI LOSOPHY. Delivered in Tho/nasciUe, ltd, IK| JOHN M. DYSON. ( Concluded.) Philosophy, in its growth, follows that Mtv of gradation which obtains in nil pro gress. The fusibility of matter into gaseous vapor, as demonstrated by the compound blowpipe, and tho existence of masses of i nebulas in the stetlar world revealed by the i telescope, together with the remains of fish ! es. reptiles, coal-beds, and the depositions of | successive strata, found iinbededat immense j depths belo w the surface of the earth, mdi* [cate that many ages must have elapsed in ’ the process of its formation ere it became fitted for the abode of man. And history plainly teaches that the civilization of the present century is the sum total of all the in ftiustrv and legislation, all the toils and wars, all the error and truths, that have engaged the attention of man since iris creation.— The same silent and indestructible process of accretion characterizes Philosophy.— Great ideas are evolved slowly, and require time in order to be established ; but -Ulti mately they become incorporated into our forms of thinking, constitute the staple of the most ordinary conversation, and impart vitality to the institutions of the- day. But though the centuries are slow in bringing them to light, their appearance is not there fore the less cert gin. There is ever going on in nature, the act of self-registration.— >See how the whirlwind leaves its track in the desolation of the forest, the rolling stone its scrat h -on the declivity of the hill-side, and the decaying leaf a spot of fungous earth, to attest their agency; so does every ; age. every epoch, every era, every race, ey ery language, every phase of society, fur nish its distinctive feature which Philosophy straightway seizes, and stereotypes on her tablet. From every quarter she is receiv ing contributions to augment the sum oi human knowledge. She garners up in her immense storehouse the precious grains of wisdom beat out on the threshing floor of time, and reserves them for the common in heritance. The discoveries of one age be come the acquisitions of the next, in a circle of progress whose circumference is ever | widening, and whose motion continues to j accelerate the march of improvement. As the world grows older, it grows richer in wisdom. The individual, like tho leaves ot a tree, may perish, but race, like the trunk of that tree, will survive, . Fach generation commences its improvement where that of the preceding terminated. Tho child, that has not seen more than a dozen summers, may understand physical geography better than Colurhbns, whom it required years of patient study to arrive at the theory of the rotundity of the Earth. The boy, who has not reached the age of majority, may go far ther in astronomy than Copernicus, Gallileo, or Kepler, and follow Newton in ! is exten sive mathematical combinations. And it is difficult to find a graduate of any of our col leges, if his attainments be at all respecta ble, whose notions in metaphysics are not j clearer than Plato’s or Aristotle’s. Such is the vantage ground, resting on ail past, ages, occupied by Philosophy. It is always pro gressing and never completed ; always ac quiring and never satiated. It is the” very genius of humanity, and therefore a neces sity ; and though like industry, like politics, like art, like religion, temporary circumstan ces may war}) it into occasional error, yet like industry, politics, art, and religion, it is nevertheless a necessity. It is not, as many imagine, the creature of the schools, but the voice of universal reason. AVo have said that Philosophy is the love of wisdom, and wisdom is the practical ap plication of knowledge. It remains then to vindicate the practical character of Phvlos ophy. For more than two thousand years did it rule the world under tho systems of Plato and Aristotle. True, it was often.oc cupied with verbal quibbles and scholastic subtleties, but then it fashioned all the insti tutions of that day, both civil and ecclesias tic. The school, the college, the church, the bar, the workshop, trade, and commerce, all were modified by it. In process oftime Cfftne the inductive method ofßacon, which inaugurated anew era in science. Its pro gress was rendered more certain, and its re sults more tangible. Everywhere we see its fruits ,* in steam locomotives; in disarm ing electricity of its terrors ; in the renova tion of the exhausted soils of the old world ; in the safety extended to the miner ; and in the prolongation of the average duration of human life. It has added to civilization in numerable comforts and conveniences which bless the poor as well as the rich. Nor must we overlook the few’ instances when Philosophy; like a silent cloud, has gone on gathering strength, until it burst upon the world like an appalling clap of thunder, spreading horror and dismay amid blood shed, amid carnage, and amid revolution;— The student, who gits at the feet of ages to learn with humility the lessons of wisdom, will not forget, that the French Revolution of 1798, with all its elements of good and evil, owed its origin to a recluse buried among books and portfolios. That man was Locke. Greater than Ctesar, or Alex ander, or Napoleon ; ho resoTted to ideas, , and not brute force, by which to move the | world. And he did move it; he upturned PENFIELD, GA, SATURDAY, MARCH 2% 1856. from their foundations the politics of kings ; he made princes tremble upon their thrones; he sapped the timehonored strength of priestcraft; and all by the talismanic power of philosophic thought. And our Revolu tion, bringing with it a long series of events calculated to promote justice and liberty, was greatly modified by Franklin. He it was, who first moved the union of the colo nies into a confederated republic, and the spirit of his w-ritings still breathes in the thrift, economy, and greatness of our people. In no nation, indeed, has liberty been cher ished, where Philosophy was not cultivated. It enters into the inmost recesses of our be ing, and in the constitution of tho will dis covers the germ of all free institutions. It I dictates the policy, and decides the battles, of nations. Marathon and Salamis, Wa terloo and Bunker Hill, were not merely bloody battles ; they were crises in the opin ions of the world to settle whether principle or chaos, light or darkness, truth or error, philosophy or empiricism, should prevail,— Philosophy is also the handmaid of religion. It has met infidelity and atheism on their own ground more than a thousand times, and as often vanquished them in the conflict. Before the splendor of its blase superstition vanishes as the mist of the morning. There are times when religion seems to decline be hind the hills and mountains of iniquity, and it is then that the truths of science, like the stars in the sky, come out to admonish us by their smile that all is not gloom, that Hea ven is still above us, and that light will again return to bless our vision. Philosophy shows us God in all things; in the flying cloud, in the tempestuous storm, in the moan ing winds, in the vicisitudes of the seasons, and in the great miracle of decay and repro duction ever going on. It leads the mind to look with aversion on riches, and to de spise vulgar applause. It whispers of se renity, benignant affections, sweet charities, cultivated manners, and humble submission to the allotments of Divine Providence. WtlSzeMmsm® Select THEY SAY. Well, what if they do? It may not be true. A great many false reports are cir culated, apd the reputation of a good man may be sadly sullied by a baseless rumor. Have you any reason to believe that what they say concerning your brother is true"? If not, why should you permit your name to be included among the “they” who circu late a scandal? They say —. Wt o says? Is any per son responsible for the assertion? Such phrases are frequently used to conceal the point of an enemy’s poignard, who thus meanly strikes one whom he dare not open ly assail. Are you helping the cowardly at tack ? If “they” means nobody, then re gard the rumor as nothing. They say —. Why do they say so? Is any good purpose secured by the circulation of the report? Will it benefit the individual to have it known; or will any interests of society be promoted by whispering it about? If not, you had better employ time and speech to some more worthy purpose. They say —. To whom do they say it? To those who have no business with the af fair ? To those who cannot help it or mend it, or prevent any unpleasant results? That cortainly shows a tattling, scandal-loving spirit that ought to be rebuked. They say —. Well, do they say it to him ? Or are they very careful to whisper it in places where he cannot hear it, and to persons who are known not to be his friends? Would they dare to say it to him, as well as about him? No one has a right to say that concerning another, which lie is not. ready to speak in his own ear. They say —. Well, suppose it is true.— Are you not sorry for it; or do you rejoice that a bi other has been discovered erring? Oh, pity him if he has fallen into sin, and pray for him that he may be forgiven and 1 restored. I fit should be true, don’t bruit it abroad to his injury. It will not benefit you, nor him, nor society, to publish his faults, You are as liable to lie slandered, or to err, as your brother, and as ye would that he should defend, or excuse, or forgive you, do ye even so to him. _ _ A LADY ON BEARDS. A fair correspondent of the Home Jour nal has the following sensible remarks on the wholesome habit of wearing tho beard, which has lately come into fashion : u It is astonishing w’hat a change a few years has wrought in regard to shaving. Once, everybody shaved, but now, I much mistake, if every gentleman has not found to shave or not to shave, a question sug gested by his morning toilet. Alas for the razor-strop man. His occupation is near ly gone. I hope he will succeed in find ing another, for the present generation will lx> a bearded race. “I was quito interested last winter in reading a 4 'Natural History of tho Human Species,’ by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Hamilton Smith, in which he states that a bearded race are the conquering races.— For this reason, tho beardless races are averse to them. This aversion ho states tobo the result Os experience, proving the superior activity of those who have sprung from ‘such races. Jeughis, Timur and Nadid Shah, were directly, or in their an cestry, descended from Caucasian mothers, and hence, also, the jealous exclusion of the European women, fpom China. The progressive nations, he tells ns, are a beard ed and hairy race. Sampson’s strength lay in his hair. Bereft of that hrs mighty power was gone. The lion is king of the forest. How much of his beauty he owes to his magnificent inane. Shave him, and he is king m> longer/ “I cannot imagine why a beard is given to man, unless it rs to try his patience, if h.*jis. t<-spend his time in daily cutting’ it, a* it daily asserts its right to a manifested existence. The beard is an emblem oft nianly power and dignity, and is certainly { an element of manly beauty. Tho Fa . flier of the Faithful, and all the old- PatriA archs and Prophets wore beard;'so did our Saviou-r, when ha dwelt as man among the hills of Judea. So, too, most *of the venerable divines who have transmitted to us their schemes of theology. It is ft mod- } ern itineration to shave off the whole j beard. It was not common before the ( commencement of the last century. Mos-j es forbade the Jews to mar the corners of! their beard; and David, when hie Embas-j sadors were insulted by Hainan’s shaving j off one halt* of their beards, permitted them to tarry at Jericho till their beard* had grown. “While the beard properly Worn, is an ornament, it is sometimes rendered hide oils by the manner in which it is trimmed. A round mass of bristles on tho chin is nev er becoming, yet sometimes thin cheeked, long-faced gentlemen elongate their coun tenances, in this way; often these tufts impart a low, animal expression; they nev er confer dignity nor beauty. Some few are greatly improved by fall whiskers, others by a moustache. Some look best with the beard rather close. It requires an artist’s eye to decide on what is most becoming. Nature leaves a varying out line to the beard, which is more perfect than any semi-circle cut bv a razor. “Perhaps yon may think I have .wan dered from my proper sphere in writing about beards. I had no idea of doing, so when I commenced - this letter; you must charge it all to snow storms. I must leave the subject of ladies’ dress for another day. Yours, <fcc., “Anna Hope.?* THE SANDGLASS. In our present use of clocks and watch es wo miss something of the striking les sons which our fathers had when the sand glass was used.- There is much about this antiquated emblem to impress the imag ination. How goodly seems the store of sand in the upper department of tho glass when it first begins to run I So the year appears at its opening to many a thought less spendthrift of time. It is rich in many days, and one stolen from them for fully will never be missed. After a little comes what we may call the manhood of the glass: the sand is half expended.— Yet a little longer, and its old age draws on; the mass of sand, once a goodly heap, is now diminished to a few grains. The last of them comes—it glides, it falls, and the mural of life is told. Sand-glasses for domestic use seldom contain, now-a-days, more dust than would last a few minutes. Once, however, they were made to em brace a larger portion of time. We have sometimes thought, could a-glass I*3 im agined large enough to hold the sands of a man's whole life, and could thero be shown below, in separate, departments, the way in which each portion of the mass that ran down had been employed, how start led should wo he with the spectacle!— What mountains would be found spent in sin i What, hills in vain pleasures?— What tiny portions in the real service of God, and in devotion to the things of eterni ty. — Leisure Hour. RUM TRAFFIC. The rum traffic is a ceaseless scourge.— ,‘t is no respecter of persons. Every week adds to its hecatomb of victims, and the upper grog-shops—sacred to those who oc cupy position and standing—furnishes a full quota. Indeed, these are tho grand recruiting stations for tho whole army of drunkards. Shorn of some of the more disgusting features which repulse from low groggeries, they 7 enlist the unwary, and make strong the chains of tho destroyer.— Those who sustain such houses —'“respects ble” liquor shops—do far more towards the spread of intemperance than tho thou sands who congregate father down the stream. The man of position, intellect, and, commanding talents, who, in public or in the social circle, lends his influence to a great wrong, rests under a fearful * re sponsibility. lie does far worse than to bury the talents confided to his care. Ho makes them giant levers for evil. He stands where he could reach out and lend a strong hand to a great reform —help to roll back an aecursing flood, which carries away in its black current tho hopes and happiness of thousands —yet rotuses to heed the right. He strengthens wrong.— He helps make paupers and criminals, and impoverish and disgrace his fellow-beings. He cannot shirk this matter. No one ev er saw a gutter-drunkard yet, but what quoted the example of men of wealth and position, as an excuse for his own degrada tion. And in Auburn, there is no lack of such examples to refer to. Men and wo men who should lead in good works, choose rather to aid and sustain a foul and loath* spuio traffic. In view of all this, we trust that when the long deferred decision on the prohibitory law comes, justice wj.ll strike in high quarters. Take care of the i'estpeetable drunkeries first, and the lower groggories will surrender without parley. The traffic is outlawed in the Empire State. Then why not bring homo tho whole strength of that outlawry even to rum curs ed Auburn ? Let us clear away this scourge, and see if cmr city will be any the less prosperous—-see if our poor are not as well clad and fed, as under the away of ■ whisky, and the great principles of truth and justice as well promoted.— Coy. Chief. SCENE IN A LOU CABIN. It was nearly midnight on Saturday i night, that a messenger came to Col. ; requesting him to go to the cabin of a get-! tier, some* three miles down tho river, and : see his daughter, a girl of fourteen, who was snpposed to bo dying. Col. awoke me and asked me to accompany him, and I consented, taking with mo the small package of medicines which I always car ried in the forest; but I learned soon there was no need of these, for her disease was past euro. “ She is a strange child,” said the colo nel, “ her father is as atrago ft man.— They live-together alone on the bank of the river. They came herd three years ago, and no one knows whence or why.— He has money, and*i6 a keen shot. The child has betfn wasting away for a year past. I havo seen her often, and she seems gifted with a marvelous intellect. She speaks sometimes as if inspired, and seems to be the only hope of her father. We reachtxl the hut of the settler in less than half an hour, and entered rever ently. The scone was one that cannot easily be forgotten. There wore books and ‘evi dences of luxury and taste, lying on the rude table in the center. A guitar lay on the table near the small window, and” the bed furniture, on which the dying girl lay, was as soft as the covering of a dying qneen: She wag a fair child, with maeges of long black hair lying over her pillow. Her eye was dark and piercing, and as it met mine, she started slightly, but smiled and looked upward. I spoke a few words to her father, and turning to her, asked her if she knew her condition. “ I know that my Redeemer liveth,”- said she, in a voice whose melody was like the sweetest tones of an Eolian. You may imagine that tho answer startled me, and with a few words of like import, I turned from her. A half hour- passed, and she spoke in the same deep, rich, melodious voice: “ Father, I am cold; lie down beside me,” and the old man lay down by his dying child, and she twined her emaciated arras around his neck, and murmured in a dreamy voice, “Dear father—dear father.” “My child,” said the old man, “ doth the flood seem deep to thee?” “Nay, father, for ray soul is strong.’* “See’st thou the thither shore ?” “I see it, father; and its banks are green with immortal verdure.” “Hearest thou the voices of its Inhabit ants ?” “I hear them, father, as the voices of an gels, falling from afar in the still and sol emn night-time; and they call me. Her voice, too, father—oh, I heard it then!” “Doth she speak to thee ?” “She speaketh in tones most heavenly!” “Doth she smile ?” “An angel smile! But, a cold, calm smile. But I am cold—cold--! Father, there’s a mist in the room. You'll bo lone ly, lonely. Is this death, father?” And so she passed away. A GREAT IRAN. GeorgeXippArd, in his work called “the Nazarino ” thus speaks of President Jack son : “Hd was a man ! Well I remember the day I waited upon him. He sat there in his arm chair—l can see that old warri or’s face, with its snow white hair even now. Wo told him of the public distress —the manufacturers ruined, the eagles shrouded in crape, which were borno at the head of twenty thousand men into In dependence Square. He heard ns all.- — Wo begged him to leave tho deposits where they were; to uphold the great bank in Philadelphia. Still ho did not say a word. At last one of our members, more fiery than the rest intimated, that if the Bank were crushed, a rebellion might fol low. Then the old man rose. I can see him yet. “Come 1” he shouted in a voive of thun der, as his clutched hand was raised above his white hairs—“Como with bayonets in your hands instead of petitions—surround the White House with your legions—l am ready for yon all! With the people at my back, whom your gold can noither buy nor awe, I will swing yon np around the Capitol, each rebel of you—on a jibbot— high as Hainan’s.” “When I think,” says the author, “of that one man standing there at Washing ton, battling with all the powers of Bank and Panic combined, betrayed by those in whom ho trusted, assailea by all that the snike of malico hiss or the fiend of falsehood howl —when I think of that one man placing his hack against the. rock and folding his arms for the blow while he ut tered Sis vow: “I will not swerve one C TERMS: SI.OO IN ADVANCE. L JAMES T. BLAIN, L PRINTER. VOL. XXII.-NUMBEE 12. inch from the course I have chosen !”—I must confess that the records of Greece and Romo—nay, the proudest days of Cromwell or Napoleon cannot furnish an instance of n wjll like that of Andrew Jackson, when ho placed life an A sold and famo on the hazard of u die, for the peo ple’s welfare.” —Providence Sentinel BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT. The following wait’, afloat on the “sea of reading,” we clip from an exchange.— We do not know irs paternity, but it con tains some wholesome truths, beautifully set forth: Men seldom think of the great event of death until the shadow falls across their own path, hiding forever from their eyes the traces of the loved one whose living smiles were the sunlight of their existence. Death is the great antagonist of life, and tho cold thought of the tomb is the skele ton of all facts. We do not want to go through the dark valley, although its pas sages may lead to paradise; and with Charles Lamb, we do not want to lie down in the muddy grave, even with kings and princes for our bed fellows. But the fiat of nature is inexorable.— Ihero is no appeal or relief from the great law which dooms us to dust. We flourish and we fade as the leaves of the forest, and the flower that blooms and withers in a day has not a frailer hold upon life than the mightiest monarch that ever shook the earth with his footsteps. Generations of men appear and vanish as the grass, and the countless multitude that throngs the world to.day, will to-morrow disappear as the footsteps on the shore. ■ln tho beautiful drama of lon, the in etinct of immortality, so eloquently utter ed by the death devoted Greek, finds a doep response in every thoughtful soul.— When about to yield his young exist*-nee as a sacrifice to fate, his beloved Clem antho asks if they shall not meet ag on, to which he replies, “I have asked that dreadful question of the hills that look eternal—of the clear streams that flow for ever—of the stars among whose fields of azure my raised spirit hath walked in glo ry. All were dumb. But. while I gaze upon thy living face; I feel that there is .something in the love that mantles through its beauty that cannot wholly perish.— We shall meet again Clemanthe. POLITENESS IN MEN AND WOMEN. A Cincinnati editor makes the follow ing revelations of the comparative polite ness of tho sexes in that locality; “Not long since we had occasion to ride a short distance in one of Our city omnibuses. It was after dark, and the omnibus started off, nearly filled with men. Soon it stop pea, and a woman opened the door; in stantly there was a move among the men; they crowded together, and a seat was furnished the lady. After proceeding a Bquareor two further, another lady wished to get in; an additional squeeze was made, and she was accommodated with a seat. A similar application was again soon made, and a gentleman instantly gave up his seat and got on top. Another soon followed, and another gentleman did likewise. Re peated instances like this occurred, and tho gentlemen by crowding together, hold ing market baskets and children, accom modated every lady applicant, till we coun ted inside —men, women and children— nearly twenty persons. Then the number began to diminish; men and children got out, and the omnibus was decently filled with women, there being but two men in side, and they at the further end, complete ly blocked in by market-baskets. And now a woman opened the door; not a lady stirred. “Can I have a seat,” modestly asked tho applicant. “I should like to see where you’d sit,” said one lady. “Don’t you see this’bus is full?” said another.— “You can’t stand,” sneeringly said a third. “I can walk,” replied tho spunky appli cant, and slamming the door off she walk ed. “Now, had tho omnibus been as full of men as it was.of women, that lady would have been furnished a seat without a mur mnr. But it is not only in the omnibus that men show their superior politeness over women. In a rainy day, if wo meet two men abreast on a crossing, one instant ly steps behind tho other, and gives you & passway. But if you meet two ladies ten chances to one but you have to step in tho mud. In a crowded church, men will squeeze together to accommodate another man; but ladies will spread themselves out, so that threo or four would fill a pew, and not an inch will they move to accom modate one of their own sex. So in rail road cars, and other places where men and women congregate, and where the true disposition is instinctively shown. We state those as general cases. There are exceptions, of course; but we merely wish to draw attention to the general fact, that while a man’s rudeness to a woman is so rare as to attract notice when it occurs, the rudeness of a woman towards a man, or towards another woman, is so common as to be considered a matter of course. If, among other ‘Woman’s Rights,* wl ich some ladies are now striving to obtain, they will engraft the right to be always courteous and polite to each other, we men will take care of ourselves, and them, too-—God bless’em. With all their faults w love them still.”