Temperance crusader. (Penfield, Ga.) 1856-1857, April 19, 1856, Image 2

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(SfoiStaolL For the Temperance Crusader. COHUTTAH DIVISION. While there are so many evidences of lukewarmness, coldness and decay amongst the various temperance organizations in Georgia, in may not be uninterestingto your readers to hear a word from a Division which has survived the open assaults of en emies, the secret stab of pretended well wishers, and the coldness and apparent in difference of friends, and which to day stands as a monument of the energy, firmness and perseverance of the noble and faithful band who, years ago, “united to perpetuate the cause.” Such is Cohuttah Division, No. 140. It was organized on the 3d of Janua ry, 1849; has initiated 285 men and 35 wo men, making a total 0f320 initiations. Three other Divisions have been organized from its members, (only one of which however, I am sorry to say, is now in existence,) and we now have about 100 members, including females. Now, Messrs. Editors, when I inform you that this has been done in a village with a population of less than 300 souls, where there has been all the time one or more grog shops, and where the order has been opposed and its progress resisted by wealth, and political power, you will give us credit, I think, for having done good service in the cause. If any friend of temperance would know | by what means we have succeeded. I can tell him it has been by a regular attendance at the Division Room in all weather and un der all circumstances. For over seven years some of us have met weekly, and in all that time I have heard of but two occa sions when there were not present enougii members to organize. Our Division has al most invariably been opened and closed with a petition to the Throne of Grace for Divine aid and direction. We have always had the cheering smiles and earnest prayers ot Woman, and her zealous co-operation in our efforts to extend the principles of the order. And in seasons of doubt, of gloom and de spondency, (for we have we have thus far had some strong and faithful bre thren, ready to raise aloft our banner inscri bed with Love, Purity and Fidelity, and en courage the faint-hearted and wavering to rally again beneath its folds and preserve it from shame and dishonor. But with all these aids to moral suasion, our community is still annoyed by scenes of drunkenness and riot, emanating from a grog shop in our midst, sustained by an in fluence which is, I fear, beyond the reach ot any amount ot moral suasion; and 1 regret to learn that an extensive distillery has just been put in operation in the lower part of this county, on the plantation of one of the ■wealthiest men in the State. What chance has moral suasion against a capital of five hundred- thousand dollars. How strange it is that the people do not demand of their Representatives some legislation to suppress the mighty evil of intemperance in the land. 1 fear our Legislators will have a fearful ac count to settle at the great day of retribu tion. for having so long turned a deaf (or drunken) ear to the calls of humanity on this subject. With the light which Georgia has on this question, it is reasonable to believe .hat even Sodom and Gomorrah would have discarded the infamous traffic in human souls pursued by the present race of doggeries, had such a nuisance existed in that age of the world. MURRAY. For the Temperance Crusader. ARISTOCRACY vs. POLITENESS. BY EMMIE EMERALD. It was Sunday night: that holy and beau tiful ceremony instituted by Jesus of Naz are-th himself, was to be performed in the Baptist Church. They who had left the broad and sunny path, the glitter and plea sures of the great world, to toil up the steep and rugged way of Calvary, and seek the shadow of the Cross of “the accursed tree” on which he died, were like him, to go down into the water and “be baptized.” That stately house of God was being ra pidly filled with the rich and the proud, the young and gay, with all who had any curi osity to behold the same scene enacted that took place in the bright waters of the Jor dan eighteen hundred years ago, when St. John “Stood breast high amid the running stream, Baptizing as the spirit gave him power.” The hospitable brethren of our Church had with indefatigable politeness, procured seat after seat for strangers, and crammed pew after pew with aristocratic old gentle men and their dignified dames, with dash ing belles and, “Dandy noddies With soul3 adapted to their bodies;” and now the bustle and hum was over, the deep solemn notes of the organ were hush ed, and the rich thrilling tones of our no ble minister broke the silence, reading words of glowing eloquence and beauty, from the book of life eternal. He was one to command attention. “In his eye Burned the wild fire of love—and as he spake The ear lean’d to him, and persuasion swift To the chain’d spirit of the listener stole.” And as the old gentlemen took their hands out of their pockets and the old la dies hushed their whispering, the young one’s left their ribbons and gloves “alone, while “fast young America” ceased to suck the puppy heads on their canes, and all listened to him who told of a Father’s wondrous love. Presently the door opened and three ladies—do pray excuse me—fe males I meant, in calico-hoods and worsted shawls, came timidly in, looking askauot from side to side, as though pleading for a place in the house of their God. But none seemed disposed to offer them one, for the old gentlemen, looked at the course garbed strangers whoso coming had disturbed them, with righteous indignation, while “fast .young America” peered under their bonnets with sinful impudence, and kept their seats with the utmost composure. But where in the name of wonder was good affable brother M., who always fills Tils own pew, and the neighboring one’s which are not his, with his moneyed friends ? Where was bland brother W., whose offici ous politeness in procuring seats for velvet cloaks, has worn out the aisle carpeting ? Where was kind brother Gen. E., who stalks up and down on such occasions like a reverend chanticleer, with a plurality of feather crowned femalit.y at his angrrst; heels? Why they were sitting at the end of their respective pews, supposed to he ignorant ot the fact, that three females were unprovided with seats. Perhaps had these been heralded by the pompous step of pride and the rustling of silks’ and wa ving of feathers, they would have al t met ed the attention of these godly men; but: as it was, they passed on with burning cheeks and faltering steps the _ whole length of those long broad aisles, unnoticed, even though the minister paused, and his noble brow, reddened with the crimson flush of shame and sorrow at the sight. lam hap py to state that there was one gentleman some where near the door. I did not see him (I wish I had, it would have been a refreshing sight.) I know not if he wore broadcloth or “hodden gray,” or whether the hand that opened that pew door was white and jeweled like a lady’s or roughen ed and brown with daily toil, —but this I do know, that he was the only specimen of true Southern chivalry and manliness in that spacious Church. P. S.—But apropos, those friends in the galleries may consider themselves except ed. Augusta, Ga. For the Temperance Crusader. CONFESSIONS from a BOARDING HOUSE. —o — BY MRS. .NETT LET ON. —o— —3. The week previous to the opening of the term, was insufferably tedious. I was rest less and, I fear, made every body about the house as res'tless as myself. The days seem ed interminable. At last Sunday came; I was never before so tired ot a sermon. Monday lagged as if loth to depart. On Tues day I had nearly given up in despair, when news came that a few of the students had arrived. This intelligence revived and cheered me somewhat. Still, no one had engaged board at my house. I had taken the precaution, however, to request the Hack Driver to give notice that I was pre pared to accommodate boarders, and felt as sured that there would be, at a few applicants. Next day, the students poured in rapidly—giving to the otherwise quiet and lazy village a bustling, noisy appear ance. In the eveuing, 1 was summoned to the parlor. I found there a pompous look ing old gentleman, and a boy with his hat swinging in his hand. The old gentleman introduced himself as “Mr. Fleshing; and this”—said he, “is my son Enoch.” Enoch acknowledged my salutation with a bow and a stare, and then continued to swing his hat. “1 have called, Mrs. Nettleton.” said Mr. Fleshing in a patronizing tone—“to know whether my son could board with you ? He has entered College, and I am anxious to see him settled before I leave.” “I don’t like any of the other boarding-houses,” put in Enoch. “Your terms are the same as at the other houses, I suppose,” continued the father unheeding the interruption. “The same,” I answered, and not knowing what further to say kept silent. “The grub will be eatable, will it. ?” again interposed young hopeful. “Sir,” said I, not knowing what he meant. “Enoch,” said the fat her proud ly, “has some peculiarities ; indeed he is different from other people, and of course, talks a little differently. He meant to ask, if you would keep a good table. He inten ded no offence; it’s only his way ?” 1 ven tured a more deliberate survey of Enoch, to see whether I could discover or fancy an}’ resemblance to his namesake of old. Instead of walking with God, he seemed scarcely capable of walking with his flesh. He had an impudent leer, and a .self-confi dent air, which said plainly : “I have been somebody at home, and I intend to he some body wherever I go.” His features were tolerably good, but the expression of his countenance might have been better. En och’s father continued to praise him ; saying, that he was considered a good scholar at school; that he had a most amiable dispo sition ; that his mother nearly idolized him; that the Faculty could easily manage him by kindness, but lie would’nt be driven ; and ended by hoping, that while lie remained with me, I should supply the place of his mother. So it was arranged—with many misgiv ings on my part —that I should be a mother to F.nocli, and he was to be a dutiful son. Applications for board multiplied, until, be fore the week was gone, I had secured my compliment. Among them was more than one Enoch, but no other Mr. Fleshing ap peared. Then began the routine of my new life. My boarders were as gentlemanly as College boys generally are, but I could’nl escape the reflection that they might have possessed better looks. My eldest daugh ter, Sarah, soon discovered that fact, and before many days had passed, noticed other disagreeable facts. “Mother,” said she one morning, as the young men were leaving the breakfast ta ble, “I never saw such an assemblage of ugly boys. Why there is’nt a fine looking fellow in the number. And just see how they eat! Every one appears to be racing with the rest, to see who can eat the most in the least time. Ugh ! lam ashamed of them.” “My child,” said I, “you ought not to talk so. I daie say they are like all the others. You ought to recollect that many of them five in the country, and have never been away from home until they came to college; and that this rough exterior, at which you complain, will wear off in a short time. Be sides, you must teach them better manners ? S ° o<l cxam pl®-” “A pretty time I shall have with these unpolished boarders she muttered as she went about clearing the tab e. “Well, ifOliviana Frisk told the truth, all the boys are not so; and L guess Iwih see intelligent and refined compa ny sometimes.” The boarders did improve m manners as the term passed. They ate more slowly, and I believe masticated their food more perfectly than they did at first. Still my patience was severely tried when ever company was present at meals. Some of them would never wait until all had fin ished the first course and were supplied with the second, but would hastily despatch their share of the dessert as soon as it was set before them, and retire from the table. I have more than once detected my friends staring in wonder at such conduct. “But patience;” thought I, they will surely learn better after a while.” had learned to repress her risibles when excited bv i.icii voracious eating, and her disgust at their perfumed and Oily heads, their cologne and cinnamon and cloves. She treated them just as if they were the most irreproacha ble gentlemen imaginable. Her hearing was the same to all. They were encour aged by this to seek her company with con siderable eagerness. A few mistook her ordinary politeness for an exhibition of ten derness, and seemed determined that her tenderness should not be lavished in vain. Sarah and her sister loved their piano dearly, and sang together with taste. The hoys soon discovered this, and made the girls sensible, too, that they had discovered it. They would go to the parlor, in num bers varying , from one to half a dozen, whenever they chose, without asking per mission or enquiring whether they intruded or not. At first, the girls bore the intrusion patiently ; singing and playing and chatting gaily, as if they had not wished the boys in Texas, or in their own rooms, or elsewhere out of the way ; but the evil steadily in creasing, became, at length, almost intoler able to the rest of us. Yet, as Sarah was passionately fond of music and as her visi tors expected her to play for them, she would. practice in spite of the boys—that is, until the boys interrupted her. She was preven ted by her household duties from always choosing an hour to practice when the young men would necessarily be away from the house. As for myself, I was fre quently kept awake very late at night by the boarders in the parlor. This would have been patiently borne if it had occur red only now and then, when a strange vis itor was in the house; but for the boarders to presume thus on their situation, was too provoking. Already had my Elysian dreams been dissipated,—already had the thorns in my new path outnumbered far the roses, —al- ready had I learned that there are situations in life happier perhaps, than keeping a College boarding-house. I strove in vain to repress the sight that came unbidden at the recollection of my former boarders. Even Ketchem was an agreeable man, and a gentlemanly one, too, in comparison with these rude, unpolished boys. Gruff and un sociable as he was, I would gladly have taken him in exchange, for the least noisy and troublesome of his successors. What would quiet, Dr. Killem have said, had he heard the din and clamor from tle young men’s rooms, that rarely failed to inflict on me a severe headache ? This is but a faint picture of the real case. At some future time, 1 may mention more fully other causes that served to render that period of my life peculiarly uncomfortable. A NOBLE WOMAN, | “There’s a noble creature,” whispered a | friend to us, pointing out a handsome wo | man, in the prime of life, who stood oonvers -1 ing with an aged man. | “There is something majestic about her.” ! was our reply. “The majesty of goodness ?” exclaimed our friend. “How low and soft her voice, and what a world of love in those dark eyes. And her lips ! mark their fine hut firm out line ! I tell you, she stands there a true wo-f man; and, though now splendor surrounds her, and wealth pours in upon her, she once I renounced fashion, fame, and riches, for a man who was glorious in his attributes, but poor in pocket. He had no splendor to of ! ier her—-nothing but a priceless heart. She was lively, witty, and very much accom plished. jrler parents had” bestowed upon her all they had. to give her a liberal educa tion; yet she was never, because of their old fashioned, simple ways, and unpolished conversation, ashamed of them, for in all that makes nature noble they excelled, and in spite of their bad grammar she loved and was proud of them. I have seen girls— charming girls, intellectually and physically —who never cared to know what made the eyes of the poor old mother dim, or what kept her so silent in their company; and I knew she was thus brought by the laziness, conceit, and contempt of these charming daughters—alas ! But her old mother was no slave to her darling and beautiful child ; for she sat down smiling in the cheerful sit ting room, while the sweet, voice of her daughter carolled forth from the neat, home ly kitchen. She married, and very soon came press ing, bitter want. Sickness blighted the strength of her husband ; but she loved him, and loving, what will not a true woman do? With her own hands she toiled, with her hopeful words encouraged, until the clouds parted, and the sun shone again. Slander now joined hands with envy to aid in trampling out the brave heart, but in the end they made it much stronger. Like the little flower that sends forth rarest per fume when crushed, so that gentle heart lov ed and trusted more exceedingly. And when that malignant sisterhood hedged up the path of her husband, she had only to smile, and a rose burst out ; she had only to speak, and the thorns bowed themselves, turning outward the down that shrouded their stalk. And they saw that with such a wife, that man could not be conquered or even for a moment cast down. So they ceased their machinations, and fortune smiled, and friends came with better times, and the true woman stood belore the world a model wife and mother.” 1 gazed towards the subject of M.’s eulo gy, and as I gazed 1 venerated. “How many such,” thought I, “can our land boast, of in this day and generation ?” GOING TO SLEEP. It is a delicious moment, certainly, that of being well nestled in bed, and feeling that yon drop gently to sleep. The good is to come, not passed, the limbs Save just been ‘tired enoug to render the remain ing in one position delightful; the labor of the day k gone. A gentle failure of the perception creeps over yon; the spirit of consciousness disengages itself more end more, ami with slow and hvnhing degrees,; like a mother detaching her hand from that of her sleeping child, the mind seems to hare a balmy lid closing over it, Uke ihe oyo —'tis closed. The mysterious spir it has gone to take its airy rounds. fie f rmjicranec fnisaler. PENFIET-iD, GEORGIA. Saturday tloruing, April 19, I§s<>. Olaiborn Trussell, of Atlanta, is a duly authorized Accent for the Crusader. Liberal Offer. Any person sending us.five new Subscribers, ac companied with the “rhino,” shall be entitled to an extra copy oi the Crusader for one year. Orders lor our Paper must invariably lx*, accompanied with (lie cash to receive attention. Notice to Advertisers and Correspondents. The outside Form of our paper goes to Press early every Monday morning, and the inside at 12 o’clock every Thursday. So any Notices or Advertisements reaching here after 12 o’clock Thursday, is too late I for the forthcoming issue. Our county Officers pnr • ticulariv will bear this in mind. Agents Wanted. We want a hundred Agents for the Crusader.— Enthusiastic and energetic Temperance men; those who take a lively and earnest interest in the subject, are the kind desired. We wish one in every countv in toe State; one who will canvass the country and remind the people of their duty in regard to patroni zing the Temperance press. Liberal compensation will be awarded to all who will act as Agents for our paper. We will attend the Baptist Convention, A number of our subscribers have heretofore made it a point to settle their subscription for our Paper at the Convention; we would say to such that it will be pleasing to us to have them adhere to the same plan for the present year. We will be there “in pro pria persona” to receive all such. Many subscribers from different portions of the State might send their payments down to us at the Convention by the Dele gates. Temperance and the Georgia Press. It can but be mortifying to every nobleman of Georgia who looks beyond self-aggrandizement to the welfare of the common people, to see the uncom promising neglect with which the Press of Georgia* treats this all important and paramount subject of Temperance. Each Editor ignores it as an unpopu lar theme ; as one which would militate against the prosperity, or success of his high-toned, widely-cir culating and influential gov mod. His paper is sold to partizan prejudices, to party corruptions, political degradation, and sectional strifes ; and were Reform incorporated into its principles, it would lose the fa vor of the vulgar and unprincipled, which float like gutter scum upon the surface of our commonwealth. It is a blind error in those who place themselves be fore the people as instructors of the masses to court the favor of the lower class in preference to the high minded, moral portion of the country, and vve charge this unbecoming and undignified policy upon every sectional journal in Georgia. Some few are less cul pable than others, but all are guilty; all make war upon this, the only noble and laudable theme that has ever been agitated by the American people. The subject meets with no comments of encouragement. Let us win the day after a hard struggle, and the presses are mute in reference to it; but lot the cause receive a set back-let it be defeated at an electoral balloting by a combination of the Rum power and Demagogueism, or let a legislative enactment be re pealed by a corps of corrupt and bribed Judges, and it is heralded abroad upon the wings of the modern Sybil with telegraphic velocity. The veriest pica yune sheet that imposes itself upon the public, pub lishes the tale conspicuously, and spouts over it with exultation as a glorious achievement. • Brethren of the “quill,”vou desecrate the cause and the purposes to which this, greatest of all agencies, was, by its first labors, consecrated. It’s dawning upon the darkness of the fifteenth century was hail ed as the commencement of anew era in the moral universe. The first publication it presented to the world was the Book of Psalms from the aman uenses of the Holy Spirit. Commencing then with the Bible, the “Book of Books,” its mis sion was to work a reformation in the public heart. It operates upon the immortal man, and changes are wrought bv it in silence. No agent that lias ever been brought to light exerts such influence over the minds of men; like the irresistible music of the fabled syrens, it all tires the unsuspecting upon the quicksands oflife, or like the demi Gods of old they attack the strongholds of vice with brazen clubs, and crush the llydraheadsof the monster. It is then obligatory upon those who are termed Sentinels upon the Watch Tower, to keep this great safeguard of our liberties in the channel where it was placed at its birth. It is your duty as laborers in the promulgation of knowledge, to study the public good. You have resting upon you the responsibility of thousands of souls, and if you are derelict in your duty to circu late among the masses the proper material for the formation of their tastes, and for the correct moulding of their minds, you are guilty of misdemeanor to werds your countrymen, and are unworthy of the positions you occupy. 1 The Women Folks let Loose—Great Ex citement. A despatch to the St. Louis Republican, dated Princeton, Ind., March 22d, says: A number of ladies net at#the Methodist church this evening, equipped with axes and hatchets, and from thero went and destroyed five groceries, entire ly demolishing the contents of each. Great excite ment prevails. Weil, take it altogether, that must have been a sight worth seeing. No wonder the appearance of ‘•ladies” at a church armed with axes and hatchets and the subsequent performances of said “ladies,” caused great excitement.—-V. 0. Picayune. The ladies referred to should know that destroying bar-rooms does not altogether destroy tho appetites of their husbands for strong drink.—Constitutional ist. Pray -tell us what will, or rather point, out some method by which virtuous women can be saved from being the unprotected victims of the beastly inebri ates who have tßkcn vows to bo their husbands, but who act as if they were sent on earth for the sole pur pose of being their persecutors. It very well be comes a Press which opposes giving the aid of I.aw to helpless females, to upbraid them for thus acting in self-defence. We are not in favor of the ladies vi olating the modesty of their sox by entering into street riots, but we deprecate still more the necessity which compels them to act thns, We had far rather seo them engaged in demolishing a grogshop with pickaxes, than with flushed cheeks and chattering tongues to be sipping cordials amid a crowd of brain less youngsters, thus giving the influence of their example to intemperance in one of its worst forms. We arc really glad to hear of the ladies taking a stand so very decided upon this subject. They have been the chief sufferers from intemperance. They have been abused, downtrodden and oppressed, un til the most abject slave was less wretched than they. M ell thee does it. become them to raise their hand against this curse which has been the blight of their happiness, the destroyer of their most cherished hopes, it is noble in them to do it, and we hope soon to hear of many, who with the patriotic zeal and he roic devotion of a Nancy Hart, will lead their hus bands, sons and brothers to the ballot box and make them vote for Prohibition. Women have an important part to perform in ihe Temperance Movement, and they have never yet come up to the full extent of their responsibility.— Many, alas that we should say it, have given, in an open manner, their encouragement and influence to the enemy. They are not ’.infrequently found in the gaily thronged ball-room, offering the intoxicating cup with tempting smiles and persuasive words, to hesitating young men. And just here, many a man has commenced his journey to a drunkard’s grave.— \ oung ladies must cease to drink wines at their fash ionable parties to give a roseate hue to their checks and animate them in the giddy mazes ot the dance, j or they may confidently expect to have drunken ! brothers, drunken husbands, and drunken fathers for their children. * The Cost of Iniquity. ‘The wages of sin is death,” U the terrible anathe ma which the voice of inspiration hath spoken. Nor was it left for revelation alone to proclaim this awful truth. It is a fact, seen and experienced everywhere, that misery is the certain and inevitable concomitant oi sin. The trembling sunbeam speeds not more surely in its mission oflife and beauty, than punish ment follows the commission of crime. Man is in extricably surrounded by the delicate meshes of a moral law, the slightest cord of which, if broken, will send a message to the throne of Heaven, and in voke the vengeance of a sin-avenging God. The world is a .stage, and human existence one long continued drama, in which this truth has been taught in ten thousand forms. And what a fearful picture of human depravity, and human woe docs it bring to light. YV e need not name (he time when the blue eye of Heaven poured forth its liquid flood for forty days, to wash out the pollution of a sin darkened world. Or when the accumulated volume of divine wrath at one tremendous outburst, converted the smiling vale of the Decapolis to a dreary waste of waters. Consult the unerring oracles of History, learn the rise, progress, and downfall ofNations, and the research will prove the momentous fact, that na tional calamity is the inevitable result of national de pravity. It matters not what may have been the principles of its Government or what elements of per petuity it may have contained; it matters not what may have been its internal strength, or its external power; if its people were wanting in virtue, ruin and dissolution was its unavoidable fate. Nations, like individuals, have sometimes flourished in vice; have scoffed at treaties, and made mock of the most sa cred obligations; have made ambition and interest the Deities, at whose altars they immolated every en nobling feeling ; but they have finally been overta ken by a destruction as fatal in its consequences as it was just in its infliction. And thus reaping the fear ful, though deserved reward of their iniquity, have city after city, nation after nation, empire after em pire, passed from the face of earth, leaving nought but a name or a few shattered monuments to attest their existence. Nor is the tale less sad, less instructive, which in dividual history would teach. Who has lived, labor ed and sinned in this world of ours, who will not say that he has purchased iniquity at a fearful price. Go and ask the aged man who is trembling on the very verge of the grave, what iniquity lias cost him, and the accumulated sorrows of three-score and ten year s will give the sad response. Ask the man of middle age, as ho pauses for a moment between the steps of ambition, and he will say that the path of sin is the path of woe. It may not appear in the outward man. He may be prosperous, may obtain wealth, honor, and fame. llu fc there is an inner man, far hidden from the gaze of all but God, from whom justice demands the dread penance ; where sorrow broods in one long reign of darkness and gloom. The cost of iniquity, ah, what lias it cost! It is breathed in the hollow moan which burst from the prisoner’s lips, and echoes along his dungeon walls; it is spoken in the wild shriek of despair which arises from the bed of untimely death ; it is proclaimed, plainer than language could speak, in the burning cheek and tear-filled eyes of the youthful struggler ;in the toils of vice. But these arc enly slender sti pends of interest on a principal, the amount of which Omniscience alone can compute. The clay tenement in which the spirit is encased shall soon decay, the insubstantial shadows which surround it shall dis solve, and the soul ushered into the presence cham ber of God, will learn that the price of iniquity is eternal woe. It is an old saying, which some quote and a few believe, that “virtue must have its reward.” It is a sacred promise, registered in Heaven, and determin ed in the immutable counsels of Deity. But it has little truth on earth; is little known in the dealings of men. Here virtue often toils, labors and endures in vain, while vice triumphantly reigns in fc‘ e pride and pomp of power. But the time of reckoning cometh, when iniquity shall have spent the last lin gering day of grace which mercy allows, the full measure of its cost will be paid out, while virtue will enter its haven of rest to bask forever in the be nign rays of unmixed joj T . * Fast Boys and Fast Men. “The boy is father to the man,” is an old, much quoted adage, which is to a great extent true. But as thero are often found very marked differences be tween the father and son, so it often happens that the character of the man differs very widely from that of the boy. Asa general rule, and one which has few exceptions, fast boys never make fast men. Some children manifest uncommon love of knowledge, and great ardor in Us acquirement, which should be promoted by giving them intellectual food, suited to their years. But instead of this, parents and teach ers often take pride in pushing them into studies, which are utterly beyond their comprehension. To see a boy of ten, plodding over mathematical prob lems or buried in lexicons as large as himself, is an affecting sight; a sight however, which often begets in his friends the conviction that ho is’ a genius of the rarest stamp. In these expectations they seldom fail of disappointment. The prodigy of smartness at five, generally becomes the dunce of fifteen and j the fool of twenty-five. Stop Papers.— Settle Arrearages. Persons ordering their papers discontinued, must j invariably pay up all their dues. We shall not strike ■ off any subscriber’s name who is in arrears. Thanks to the Students. Maj. Holtzclaw requests us to tender hi?, aeknowi edgments to those Students whose labors wese so efficient in aiding to arre.se the burning of the mill on Saturday evening last. The young men are of inestimable service at Rich times; some of them lay hold with unflinching spir its. While speaking of the Students in connection with fire?, we take advantage of this opportunity to guard them against “hallooing fire” when there is no outbreak of the element. It is very common to hear .someone in the streets bawl out, [fire’ with no evil design, but the bad effect of it, is a tendency to make the people incredulous, and when an alarm is given in earnest they consider it a hoax and pay no attention to it, which has been the case with several persons during our recent excitements. TinkJ. of the boy crying icolfl, and abandon the habit. SIOO from Greene County for Overby. Our enlightened, wealthy, and moral county which occupies a prominent position among the first coun ties of our State, must not be behind in giving aid to send Mr. Overby, as a Lecturer, in the field. It would be a stigma upon her fait ir.me, and we ap peal to the citizens to make a demonstration of the interest they take in this subject by subscribing one hundred or two hundred dollars to support the Lec turer. We can but believe that our citizens will re | spend to the call forthwith. Let us hear from you ! immediately, fellow citizens, in all pans of the county. Let the List Swell. We shall keep a standing list published just here in our paper, of those who shall acceed to Mr. 11. Phinazee’s proposition to raise three thousand dol lars to employ the lion. B. H. Overby to lecture through the State, the present year. Let the list swell rapidly, for it is time he was now in the field for the year is fast wearing away We liopeyhv next issue to publish a column of names. Let us enter the names of every Division and Lodge of Knights in the Slate. A few have already respond ed, whose names will he seen below. Glade Division, Oglethorpe, co., #IOO, 00. Rev. J. Grisham, Canton, says Chero kee will find two, 100, 00. Rev. H. Phinazee, Forsyth, 50, 00. Taliaferro, county, 50, on The Young Heir of France. Paris and all France arc filled w ith reports of the birth of a son to the Emperor and Empress, and many American papers contain long accounts of the splendid festivities which attended the occasion. The Emperor has very prudently sought to create as much eclat as possible, in order to dazzle the French people, and win their admiration. What the destiny of the royal infant will be, is of course unknown. R is not probable however, that he will escape the Jatal ity which has attended his family, and indeed all who have been of royal birth in France for the last cenflr ry. The tenure by which Louis Napoleon holds the French throne is very uncertain, and is every dav weakening. That fickleness which lias long been a characteristic of her people, will in a few years, per haps in a few months, hurl him from his proud position of assumed greatness. One, whoso life and power depends on ihe caprices of the French populace, may very well entertain the feelings of n courtier in an Eastern country who never went out from ihe presence of bis master without feejiy? to ascertain whether his head was safely on Isis should ers. The brilliant displays which are now being made over the young King of Algiers, remind u* forcibly of ihe ostemious pageantry which attended the nuptial of Louis the Sixteenth with the beauti ful, but ili-staired Maria Antoinette. It is to be hoped by every philanthropist that his advent into the world may not presage such disastrous events as were witnessed in the reign of that unfortunate Prince. Alliances. A week or two since, our friend ‘•Prohibition Cru sader, requested us to publish the Constitution oi the Subordinate Alliances which appeared in ihe Banner in the Fall .of st. We have not mention ed it heretofore, as we hoped to find the number of the paper? which contained it. This we have been unable to do, owing to our being unprovided with a file paper of that year. We hope therefore, that he will not suppose us to have slighted his request. K N. Y. Prohibitory Law. The Court of Appeals of the State of New York, have rendered their decision touching the law for the suppie.vlon ol intemperance, crime, and pauperism A great degree of interest was manifested in regard to the decision of the Judiciary, and though they have paralysed some of the vital features of the law, yet they maintain that a Constitutional Prohibitory La.\ can be passed, and thereby their decision crush es to ‘loath the doctrine of Justice Brown, which Liquor Societies, and Clubs have been so rampant in ; spreading over the country, that is, that the Legis lature can pass no Prohibitory Law, whatever. We give the points as passed upon by the Court, all the eight Judges being present. ihe Court held that, a party proceeded against for misdemeanor was entitled to a trial by a jury if he demanded it, and offered to give bail lor his ap pearance at the Court at which he might be so tried; and that the act, so far as ii prevented this ritrht was unconstitutional.” b ( [We learn that five of the Judges voted in the af firmative on the aboie, two in the negative, and one (Selden) did not vote.] “2d. That the law made it criminal for a person to keep in certain places, liquors which he lawfully had there before the law took effect, and in that re spect was unconstitutional.” [On the above, five voted in the affirmative and three in the negative.] . That unconstitutional part was so blen ded with the other parts of the law the sale liquors; that all those parts were void.” {1 he relative vote on the above not ascertained by us. J J “4th. That the Legislature could not prohibit the sale of liquors which were in the State, at the time when the law was made.” [On the above the vote stood again, five in the af lirmathe, and three in the negative.] and , u h 'u ßut COU r ,d rohibit the sale of those which s loukl be manufactured or brought into the Stat° Rer the law shall take effect.” tRt “ On the fifth and last point, the eight Judges were vnanimovs. So we have the unanimous jfdgmfnt oj the Court, that a Inhibitory Law may be passed ■interdicting the traffic, in Intoxicating Drinks which would be ‘perfectly constitution ai, As to the distinction drawn between liquor held be fore the law took effect, and liquor manufactured and purchased thereafter, wo content ourselves now with quoting the general remark of one of the three who pronounced the law constitutional throughout. Said that enlightened Jurist. “Five of my colleagues have this day subscribed to several points, each of which stultifies the other ; and all or whsch stultify the Judges who subscribe to them,” To Hire. W e invite attention to the advertisement of Mr. A, F. Greene, wishing to hire a valuable Carriage smith.’ S. Hearn s money was received and cred ited to his account. AU right until Feb, 1857.