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For the Temperance Crusader.
‘ A FRAGMENT.
ffS EMMIE EMERALD.
“Alas, alast for the trusting heart,
When its fairy dreams are o’er.
When it learns that to trust is to be deceived
Finds that most false which it most believed,
Alas, for it dreams no more.”
The young can not be expected to know
aught of the “ways of the world.” They
may have read much, historians and biog
raphers may have told them of its stern
realities, of its keen and many vi
cissitudes. The aged and time-worn, may
have related the story of their own sad ex
perience, -admonished of the thorns that
may lurk ’neath the fairest flowers, of the
cloud that may rise to overcast the bright
est sky, of the snares that may lie hidden
in thepleasanted path—and yet existence
will still be all a beautiful, blissful dream;
for the young seldom, glean ench knowl
edge from books or the teachings of others.
They choose to look upon life only a3 it is
pictured to them by their own bright im
agination, tinted as it were by the rainbow
hues of hope, or as it is refleted in the false
yet brilliant and fascinating mirror, held
up by the poet and the novelist.
Life is all coleur de rose to the youthful.
Clouds may loom up in the distant future,
but they see only their silver linings. They
revel in the joy lighted day of the present,
casting no glance forward, thinking not
of the night- that corneth to enwrap
them in more than midnight gloom and
darkness.
The thought of death and the dark and
noisome grave is ever appalling to the
young and heedless, when they are called
upon to look for the last time on some dear
familiar face, to see some beloved form laid
down, to rest forever in kindred dust, when
the brave and strong,or the beautiful and
gentle, or sweet and helpless infancy is
smitten by the ruthless destroyer, when
death has severed the lovely chords of af
fection, torn away the tendrils that bound
hearts to hearts, then they are overwhelm
ed with a mighty grief, lowed down into
a crushing woe —but soon time the
“Comforter
And only healer vjhen the heart hath bled,”
fans away with his quick passing wing the
memory of the pale dead, of the lost and
loved, and the sad mourner is seen again
to mingle in the giddy whirl oflife, with a
smilinglip and placid brow.
Adversity comes —then the young and
fi ugile, the beautiful and gifted reared amid
the luxury, and refinements of wealth,
guarded tenderly from the very winds of
heaven, may be doomed to a life of cease
less toil, of bitter struggle with a cold un
feeling world, may be rudely jostled by the
heartless crowd, may eat the tear attained
bread of poverty, earned by weary la
bor, by midnight vigils, may grow faint
with hunger, wearied with unavailing ef
forts, sick at heart with sorrow.
Disease may come, enfeebling the firm
step of young manhood, robbing the mai
den’s form of its fair symmetry and grace,
paling the beauty of the cheek, dimming
the lustre of the eye, shutting out the glow
ing loveliness of nature, of the woods and’
fields, the azure sky and summer earth—
shutting out the song offbirds, the perfume
of flowers, and the breathings of the fresh
pure air—Shutting out the glorious sun
shine, the sweet music of familiar voices,
the presence of loved
fair young life with the dim shadow of the
tomb, and burying sad thoughts, of bitter
parting, of tears and of death.
These ills are heavy to be borne, and yet
the young hear them, even more lightly,
more bravely than of mature age, because
there is that linked with youth, which ban
ishes despair—hope, that bright star which
never grows dim while life is new. To the
sad and weary hearted toiler, the keeper of
midnight vigils, it rides high and clear a
bove the wild storms of ad vers'ty, pointing
ever onward to brighter days, to fortune
and fame. To the child of disease, of the
pale check and fevered lip, it gleams with
the roseate hues of health, whispering
mockingly of life, even though it be writ
ten on that wan brow that the silver cord
will soon be loosed, the golden bowl be
broken at the fountain. To the weeping
mourner it shines over the dark wave of
sorrow with a pure fair light, murmuring
of a happy meeting with the loved and lost
beyond the grave.
But there is une milder blight which
sometimes falls upon the young, that no
ray of hope ever gilds, that time nor for
tune nor prosperity can ever fully dispel.
It is to suddenly awaken from the fairy
dreams of youth and find “that most false,
which it most believed,” to find that those
whom we have invested with the attributes
of God are less than erring mortals, to wor
ship idols and find them clay, to have the
gushing tide of human love thrown back
upon tiie heart, to stagnate there, breeding
sickness to the soul, to have the affections
not weeping over the hill of the early dead,
not slowly wasted by time and satiety,
but wrenched from off their altar by the
bitter knowledge—that they were offered
at an unworthy shrine. To learn that the
hoi eyed words, the voices, whose silvery
sweetness taught us to believe that there
was love on earth, good in human nature
were but the breaking of a false echo, that
the affection on which we built opr happi
ness, the honor on which we based our
hopes, were not things, but shadows. Such
experience should come to us gradually,
our beautiful dreams should pass away
slowly', our cherished hopes should be ex
tinguished one by one. Oh it is hard to
relinquish them even thus, but alas, alas,
for the young when suddenly by a single
lesson, by one overwhelming blow the fear
ful truth is forced upon them, when they
are rudely recalled from the utopian visions
of yonth, from the magic realms of fancy,
to look upon the stern realities oflife, its
utter hollowness and corruption. It is
such awakenings as this that press the
gladness of youth from out of young hearts,
making them hardened and old before
their time, that dry up the fountain of hu
man feeling, breeding foul misanthro
py and hatred. The first disappointment
falls with blighting weight crushing out all
joy, all hope from the stricken soul. Earth
seems a Vaste, life a purse and the
grave were a welcome boon. As time rolls
on it may heal the wound, the distracting
cares of the worfd may hush the whisper
ings of that jfiwt sorrow, ‘blind contact and
the strong necessity of loving” may even
recall love tod friendship. Ambition may
come with its bewildering dreams creating
new hopes for the future. Alas, the heal
ed wound will leave a scar, the whisper
may tye drowned by louder tones, but not
hushed, love and friendship may again be
awakened, but the faith, the trust, the
sweet confidence, in the truth and purity
of human love, that made it so beautiful to
the young dreamer, once lost, may never
be recalled. We may grasp the coveted
crown, win the laurel wreath, the praise of
popular breath, we may have new ties,
new hopes, new joys—but alas, .
“the trail of the serpent is over them still”
Augusta, Ga., June 24th, 1856.
For the Temperance Crusader.
CONFESSIONS from a BOARDING-HOUSE.
NUMBER 6.
BY MRS. NETTLETON.
Something has been said more than
once, in these confessions about Enoch
Fleshing. A detailed description of him
may prove uninteresting, as there have
been so many students of like nature, from
time to time, in College; but as his picture
occupies the foreground of a group engraven
on my memory, I cannot withstand the
temptation to dwell on some of its features.
Enoch was what is technically termed a
“fast youth.” He dressed finely; walked
largely; talked loudly; and was never out
of debt. He was an inveterate eater of
night suppers; and in the early part of his
course, report said, an inveterate drinker
of mean whiskey. For the truth of the lat
ter, I will not pretend to vouch.
The characteristic, however, for which
he was most noted, was his assurance in
company. No matter who was present,
or who was talking—whether students or
strangers —Enoch was sure to monopolize
the conversation. So much was this the
case, that all rational conversation was
banished from his presence. Now would
he utter something excessively comic; now
attempt a witticism : anon would a grand
common place fall from his lips—each of
which seldom elicited either admiration or
laughter from any one except* himself.
Judging from what others have said, and
from my own personal knowledge, his con
versation was not always gentlemanly in
subject and seutiment. In a word, it would
not have required striped garments and a
conical cap with bells to assist even a
stranger in fixing on his proper name. It
was legibly written on all his actions, on
his conversation, and on his silly and mean-*
ingless laugh. It was so legibly written,”
that the wayfaring man, though himself a
fool, might read as he ran. Enoch was,
for a tjjpe, quite a ladies man. There was
nobody like Mr. Fleshing. Mr. Fleshing
was so odd, so original, so handsomely
dressed, and so good-looking. He was a
general favorite But, by and by, Mr.
Fleshing’s character declined ; and with
his character, declined also Mr. Fieshirig’s
popularity. Indeed, so far did he descend,
that he was more than once rebuked in the
.recitation room for jingling the bells ofhis
professional cap to afford amusement for
the class. tSifch was Enoch Fleshing, as he
is pictured in my memory. It will readily
be imagined, that, if he was io talkative
elsewhere as to monopolize the conversa
tion-'—so rude .as to disgust both ladies and
gentlemen —so i'fjpny as to de
serve to wear striped apparel and a sugar
loaf cap with bells —he was exceedingly
troublesome and disagreeable at the table.
Tiie younger boarders could rarely preserve
their gravity, when he wa* present, while
those who were naturally more dignified
had frequent occasion to blush at. his beha
vior. Ije was wont to go tnrongh a series
of antics and monkey motions for our di
version, and when he failed to produce the
desired effect by that means, he invariably
tried another, A favorite mode of eating
with him (and after him, with many oth
ers) was to begin the first course by help
ing himself liberally of the dessert. He
would begin on a dish intended for the
second course, and without regard for the
feelings and rights of others, would often
eat more than double his share. After that
he could still partake heartily of the sub
stantials, and even on some occasions, re
turn for a second share of the dessert. Oth
ers more weakminded and voraoiotfs than
well-bred, followed his example, and I
sometimes experienced the mortification of
witnessing a struggle, among a portion of
my boarders, for the lion’s share of the
dainties set before them, Those, whose
appetites did not HFge them so outrage,
good-breeding by joining the scramble,
were constrained to finish their meals from
the commonest food on the table. Many
of them were so completely disgusted with
such humiliating scenes, that they sought
other boarding-houses.
About the sametime, J catered for anoth
er remarkable student. He rejoicecj in the
high sounding appellation of Harrison W.
Unlike Enoch Fleshing, he was short, and
stumpy. Indeed, seen under the tall silk
hat which he would we .r, in spite of his
youth and the entreaties of friends, he was
8 wron B i y take!) for a newly impor
ted Dutchman. He once endeavored, with
infinite pains, to cultivate a mustache, but
nnding it a hopeless undertaking, wisely
lelinquished it. W. was also a ladies tnan.
He gloried in the thought, that, as yo ng
and small as he was, the ladies would still
receive his attentions. If his professions
are to he credited, the ladies were proud
of their diminutive beau. That of course,
rests on his assertion alone.
The bright, particular star, however, who
eugrossed W’s attention, resided ip the
country town, which every body knows, is
only a few miles distant from this classic
village. He hovered around her with
knigntly devotion. As oft.en as he could
possibly find an excuse to visit the town in
question, he djd so. Scarcely a week pass
ed, that did pot bring him, ardent and
sighing, to the fair feet, The lady
enjoyed it as a fine joke, and often amus
ed her friends and visitors by telling of his
wooing, of their engagement to marry, of
his simplicity, and of her determination to
flirt with him as long as he should afford
*an opportunity. As for Wi he bore the
raillery and quizzing of the boys with a
good grace; —in fact, lie rather liked it,
because thus having a love affair made him
appear mannish. That was something
with which Seniors and Juniors rarely
meddled, and for a boy below them to equal
and surpass them in such matters —why it
was glory and honor enough to satisfy W’s
effeminate ambition. 1 sometimes had se
rious thoughts about talking to Harrison
on that subject. I was prevented from
doing so by the reflection that he would
answer all my advice with a remark that
“he was competent to take care of him
self.” However much I may have doubted
his ability to conduct himself becomingly,
I said nothing to him about his penchant
for the lady in the country town.
For the Temperance Crusader.
THE HEARTS MOTTO—“FORGET ME
NOT. 35
The twilight is fast deepening around me.
The sun has cast his last lingering rays
upon the many lovely things of earth, and
I am alone—alone with my own thoughts.
All is still, and naught is heard save the
far-off twinkling of the village bells. The
6il vety moon comes floating on, in the az
ure sky, pouring her liquid beams upon
, the ruins of the abbey that has stood here
for more than a hundred years. It has been
a warm evening under the scorching skies
of Spain. The cooling breeze that now
blows in from the sea, fans my throbbing
temples, and gently tosses the curls of my
hair. Oh! what a pleasant change ! I feel
as isl were at home again—in my own
A erica—though all is very, very beauti
ful here, ray weary heart pines for my
western home—where all is tree. But the
broad blue ocean rolls between, and it
were vain to sigh; but mightily d< I pray
for the tidings to come that shall tell me
all is well—and I may return. Even now
I can hear my mother’s sad voice as when
she bade me farewell, and told me cherish
the “Hearts Motto” Forget me not.
Forget me not! How much meaning in
those words ! With what thrilling emo
tion have they fallen on my ear! My first,
“Forget me not.” I have it now preserved
in the leaves of memory. Years have pass
ed since a fair frail flower of earth, gave it
to me, and told me to keep it watered al
ways with the dews of love. She has pass
ed from earth to a more heavenly land.
She lived a Christian on earth and when
her heavenly Father said “come” she smil
ed and answerd, “I am ready,” she drew
me to her bosom and whispered “Forget
me not,” and then her pure spirit winged
, its way to Heaven.
I have amongst others, one to which I
turn morn and eve, and bedew it with
sweet recollections of him who placed it
on my heart. His bright eye filled with
tears as he hade me farewell, his hand trem
bled :;S he pressed mine for the last time,
his voice quivered as he begged me to re
member all our vows. He said that it had
been said “woman is false;” hut that he
could not believe, that one so guilders, one
so noble as his betrothed could betray his
passionate devotion, Alas! but six short
months after our last meeting did I send
him the message —“hope no more.”
I never loved him. His brilliant talents
fascinated me and I believed l loved. Yet
often when I was with him his passionate
words of love would awake responsive
echo in my heapt) tind when I was placed
beyond his influence, I knew that I did not
love him. Oh! how many bitter moments
has thp betrayal of that fond ljeart caused
me. But six months away, and tlie news
reached me that he was gone to the “spir
it laud,” I will ever remember him, as one
whom perhaps, had it not been for another
who won my heart, even while 1 was be
trothed to him and who is now resting—
I .might have learned to love. I did not
know I loved another. Oh! no, if I had 1
would not have acted as I have. But oh !
the knowledge of that unfortunate love
came too late for mv happiness.
J. H.
<*m*.*.
For the Temperance Crusader,
GREENESBCRO.
Mr. Editor: —There needs no other evi
dence to convince us how utterly disconso
late Adam must have been while unblessed
with the companionship of Eve, than the
present deplorable condition of our desert
ed young men would indicate..
You are doubtless aware that the young
ladies, who attended College during the
last session, are now abroad enjoying a sea
son of vacation. The graduates have re
turned home to make glad the hearts of
parents and friends; and perchance to break
the hearts of others, who uuavailingly,
■ may become enraptured by reason of their
charms.
Our city at this time may well be liken
ed to a desert, with scarcel y an oasis to re
lieve the eye, and impart variety to the
glowing waste. Time, however, works
wonders ! The beginning of another term
is approaching, and as the young ladies
from time to time sbal] reappear in our
streets, the elongated visages of our bach
elor friends, will gradually assume their
natural proportion.
New faces will also greet us with be
witching smiles. Attracted by the bright
luminary which is established in our midst,
the blooming girls remain long enough to
accomplish the object of their mission, then
depart to shed light and happiness in other
communities.
Such parting would be intolerably pain
ul, were it not for the fa- ts, that what cou- 1
stitutesonr loss is others gain.
The present Faculty comprise teachers
of acknowledged ability; and wo would
tain impress on the minds of parents and
guardians, the duty of sustaining by their
patronage, an Institution which has alrea
dy accomplished so much good. As you
are an admirer ot good order, you will be’
gratified on learning that our city fathers
have nobly succeeded in establishing wise
and whojesome police regulations ; rowdy
ism, in any and eyery form, it is their set
| tied purpose to suppress,
Tfa Ordinance which they have passed,
is evincive of their good taste as well as of
their wisdom and courage. Our progress
is now onward ; pro perity in the legit i
mate offspring of good government. Or
derly citizens shall not lack protection
while the present incumbents are in office.
At this season of the year, business of ev
ery kind is generally dull; our people,
however, are unanimous in the belief
“that better times are ahead.”
Our professional men aro fully alive to
their own as well as their neighbors inter
est; and we venture the assertion, that no
other community of like number of inhab
itants, lias a larger proportion of men who
can le regarded as MODELS in their re
spective calling. OSSIAN.
Cjrt Centpnmcc Cnraakr.
PKNFIEIJD, GEORGIA.
Saturday Morning, July 5, 1856.
£gpTtev. Claiborn Trussell, of Atlanta, is a duly
authorized Agent for the Crusader.
*
Liberal Offer.
Any person sending us five new Subscribers, ac
companied with the “rhino,” shall he entitled to an
extra copy of the Crusader for one year. Orders for
our Paper must invariably be accompanied with the
cash to receive attention.
0 i HH i >i
Stop Papers,—Settle Arrearages,
Persons ordering their papers discontinued, must
invariably pay up all their dues. We shall not strike
off any subscriber’s name who is in arrears.
TEMPERANCE CONVENTION,
The friends of TEMPERANCE tiirougiiout
the State will bear in mind the Anunal Con
vention, which takes place on the FOURTH
WEDNESBAi, the 23rd inst.* in Allanta,
and prepare themselves to attend, or appoint
Be legates to represent them. A large meet
ing- is desired, and the Temperance men must
lay aside other engagements and go, as there
is much important matter to come before the
Convention. The different organisations are
expected to be represented.
iE3F“Our Exchanges in the State will confer
quite a favor by noticing the above.
-
Temperance Men in Penfield
Are requested to meet in the Town Hall on Satur
day evening the sth inst, to appoint delegates to the
Temperance Convention in Atlanta on the 23th inst.
—*ii ni i (i
To the Temperance Men of Greenesboro
and White Plains.
We trust the many friends of our cause, who re
side in and near both the above places will meet and
appoint delegates to Atlanta.
-
New Advertisements.
Our readers will find several new and interesting
Advertisements in this issue.
-
Monroe Female University.
We invite special attention to the advertisement
in this issue of the Commencement Exercises of the
above University,
„
Death from Sun Stroke,
A negro man belonging to Maj. R. L. McWhorter,
near this place, died very suddenly on Saturday
last from the effect of a sun stroke.
Bridges torn up.
We noticed, on coming out into the street this
morning, that many of the bridges had been torn up.
Some cowardly lovers of meanness in a small way,
no doubt sought in this manner to gratify their low,
grovelling, debased, fiendish dispositions. Young
men may call it fun, or innocent mischief; but we
never could see the fun of it. When we consider
that there is sickness in several of the village,
and ladies are passing to and fro through the streets
at all hours of the night on their errands of mercy,
we can construe it iqto nothing but an act of the
most cowardly baseness. The principles which
would prompt a young man to do such a deed, would
make him an incendiary or burglar. Os all kinds of
meanness, that which is done from sheer love of
meanness, without any object to be gained, is the
meanest meanness which can exist We trust in
God that the perpetrators of this nefarious dee 1 may
tumble into the ditches which they have uncovered
tq entrap others and crack their own corrupt crani
um s.
1
Temperature during the last Week,
Monday, 23rd, 94 1-2 degrees; Tuesday, 95 deg. ;
Wednesday, 94 1-2 deg.; Thursday, 90 deg.; Friday,
98 deg.; Saturday, 97 1-2 deg.; Sunday, 95 1-2 deg.
in consequence of a slight sprinkle of rain. Friday
and Saturday were warmer than any days known for
many years past, and the succession of warm days
is unprecedented, wo think, in the history of Pen
field.
——
Warm Weather.
Some writer, (we have forgotten who) says that
poetry and a cold, are utterly incompatible. We
agree with him, that there is an antagonism between
that annoying complaint and a highly wrought state
of poetic feeling. Who could think of Byron paus
ing in his sublime “address to the ocean,” in order
to Mom Ms nose ? But we think very warm weather
quite as unfavorable to the “child of song,” especial
ly such weather as we have had for the last several
days. We have not attempted to mount our Pega
sus, but have labored diligently, to arrange a few
thoughts in more humble prose, which however,
eluded all our effort? tocallect them, A wag might say
that being of rather a watery nature, they were evap
orated by the excessive heat of the sun. But vve
never speak so disparingly of our bantlings, even
though they are unsuccessful in making their de
buts into the world.
Commencement Ball in Athens,
We return many thanks to oqr young friends of the
Junior Chi'S in Franklin College, for a complimenta
ry ticket to their Commencement “hop,” which
comes off on the Evening of the 6th of August The
Boys iu Athens on such occasions do things ‘up right.’
The following are the managers:
JUNIOR MANAGERS.
Jarrel Be sley, S. W. Harris, B. L. Jones,
J. If. Blount, R. M. Heard, Barna McKinne,
W. W. Belcher, R. W. Hogan, W. A. McTyer.
SENIOR MANAGERS.
[lori. Howell Cobb, Dr. J. P. Screven,
Hon. L. J. Gartrell, Hon. E. S. Shorter,
Hon. W. 11. Washington, lion. il. J. Crawford,
Hon. H. L. Benning, Col. A- A. F. Hill
‘Hon. A. 11. Stephens, lion. W. L. Yancev,
Col. Stevens Thomas, Hon. Cincinnntus Peeples,
Col. E. C. Bullock, Hon. Robert Toombs,
Bon. John McQueen.
Commencement Days.
Our country is blessed with Colleges, and the sea
son for their commencement occasions is now at
hand. The gala day of several of them has passed.
We give below the dates of some which are yet to
eoine off:
Woodland Female College, Cedai Town, July 2d.
Southern Female College, LaGrange, July Sd.
Griffin Female College, Griffin, July 3d.
Lagrange Female College, Lagrange, July 10th.
Madison Female College, Madison, July 10th.
Masonic Fen ale College, Lumpkin, July 10th.
Monroe Female University, Forsyth, July 15th.
S. W. Baptist Female College, Cuthbert, July 15tli.
Wesleyan Female College, Macon, July 17th.
Oglethorpe University, (Address by Hon. 11. V.
Johnson,) Midway, July 22d.
Emory College, (Address by Hon. B. 11. Hill,) Ox
ford, July 22d.
Mercer University, (Address by Hon. T. W. Thom
as,) Penfield, July 30th.
Franklin College, (Address by Hon. H. W. Hil
liard,) Athens, Aug. 6th.
Ga. Baptist Female College, Madison, October
Presidential Nominations.
All the political parties of our country are now
fully prepared lor their “campaign.” For the next
four months the Press will pour forth its torrents of
abuse and vituperations. The following are the tick
ets before the “Sovereign people” of the United
States :
Democratic Nominations —for President, James
Bcciianan, of Pennsylvania. For Vice President,
John C. Bkeckenkidge, of Kentucky.
Republican Nomination —for President, John C.
Fkemont, of California. For Vice President, Wm.
L. Dayton, of New Jersey.
American Nomination — For President, Mill aan
Fillmoke, of New York. For Vice President, An
dkfav Jackson Donaldson, of Tennessee.
Terrible ! No Squashes !
‘Hie clouds have withheld their waters—old Sol
has shone with “double-horse-power”—humanity
has perspired profusely—starched linen has droop
ed like coddled collat'd (colewort) leaves—the earth
has been parched, the gardens have failed, and—oh,
an empty and craving stomach ‘sickens’ as we re
cord it, all the sguadtes have ‘ gin ’ mat. “0, miser
able man that 1 am.” If no wit should accidentally
rain and raise the creek so the cow that gives the
“butter-milk ’ couldn’t come home, we should be
obliged to ‘discontinue’ our “earthly probation,” and
would present the blasted wreck of an epicurean
young man
Who once thought “butter-milk and squash,”
The best ‘vegetables’ on airtb, “by gosh.”
JSp'lhe disposition to discuss critically, the
characters of others is pronounced by moralist a
great fault, and as such is severely condemned. We
think this condemnation to a great extent unjust
In fact they make a mistake as to what they intend
to condemn. That which they would censure is the
disposition to find fault, which discovers each foiling
or weakness in the human character with the most
eager delight. There be such persons, to whose gaze
virture is invincible, and the smallest vice becomes
a mountain pile. Such men are human vultures,
who feed on the vilest garbage of earth, and are un
worthy of the form they wear, impressed as it is
with the image of God. Any condemnation or cen
sure passed upon their conduct can not be too se
vere. Rut while this is done, let it be done with
due discrimination. All critical discussions of men’s
characters should not be thus treated.
We have perhaps no truer maxim than that “the
proper study of mankind is man.” If it be profita
ble to study the phases of human nature, as presen
ted by those with whom we associate, how much
more so does ii become by discussing our opinions
with others. A free interchange of thought upon all
subjects is very improving and productive of im
mense practical benefit. So it is with our examina
tions of human nature. Our ideas are corrected,
enlarged, and in every respect improved by compa
paring our opinions with those ol other individuals.
Nor is the benefit of these examinations entirely
with those who make them. True, so long as vice
and meann.-ss exist in the world, our criticisms of
some characters will consist of nought but fault-find
ing, because they ai*e made up of faults. But from
such examinations, the good and virtuous need nev
er shrink. The author who has sent forth his first
book into the world, awaits with feverish anxiety to
hear of its reception, and trembles with fear as he be
holds it in the ciitics hands, But let him not fear.
This is but a trying test of its merits, through which
if it passes safe, it will attain a place in the literature
of the day, which nothing else could have given it.
So it is with human character. It is only when it
has passed through the rough ordeal of criticism by
all who know and understand it, that it acquires a
resplendent lustre, which the breath of calumny can
not stain, *
Scolding is the pepper of matrimony, and the la
dies are the pepper boxes. So says an old fogy
bachelor. Wc would give his name, but are afraid
lest the peace of his neighborhood might be disturb
ed by the noise of a broom handle!
So matrimony has its pepper has it ? And doubt
less its vinegar, mustard and sour kraut too. Thank
you, wc would not choose any. We were never par
tial to these condiments, and the assurance that they
form a part of the dish matrimonial, will not com
mend it to our taste. We have not the least idea
that the above sentiment was perpetrated by the
character to whom it is ascribed. It mfist have pro
ceeded from someone behind the curtain. Some
poor miserably peppered, vinegared, mustardized
fellow who has been caught in “the toils of the
charmer,” poured out his long pent up feelings in
this line, and then being ashamed or afraid to own
it, attempts to put it off on “an old fogy bachelor!”
Well, we presume the “old fogy bachelor” can bear
it. He has a heart keenly sensitive to the woes of
suffering hqmanity (of hen-pecked husbands in par
ticular) and if it will save the poor unfortunate from
a plentiful sprinkling of his “pepper box,” he will
doubtless consent to father the sentence. We are
not speaking of ourself at all. We have not the honor
of being one of the noble fraternity yet, though we
hope to be when we get old enough, unless
well unless we take a liking to pepper and pepper
boxes. *
iaiTW o have been furnished with a list of the
Speakers appointed from the Sophomore Class of
Emory College, which we publish by request:
A. \ r . J. Allen, Midville; E. Bass, Macon; J. F.
Bass, Macon; J. M. Brett, Augusta; H. R. Dawson,
Columbus; T. T. Dorough, Oglethorpe co.; J. N. Gil
more, Sandersvillc; A. B. Irwin, Henry co., Ala.; L.
C. Johnson, Jefferson co., Fla.; F. L. Little, Harris
co.; D. McD. Peabody, Columbus; J. A. Peek, Cedar
Town; L. T. Penick, Morgan co.: D. G. Purse, Mcr
riwether co.; S. J. Saffold, Madison; T. D. Threewits,
Columbus; W. A. Turner, Covington: W. D. Tutt,
Lincoln co.; 11* L. Wilson, Atlanta; S. J. Winn, Law
rencevjlle,
We are indebted to lion. A. G. Brown for a
copy of Hon, A- P. Butlers speech on the Brooks and
Sumner difficulty,
Illustrious Victims of the Traffio.
Tell us not that the devastating influences of intem
perance are confined to the plebeian circles of our
country, for it is a delusion. Its withering breath
has blighted the fair existence of many illustrious
beings. Tt has left no retreat unvisited, —no spot
uncontaminated by its foul footsteps. It has walked
within the very walls of our Capitol and there left
the stain of its polluting touch upon our national
glory. It has even stalked within the pale of the
sacred church, reached up its sacrilegious arm to
the pulpit and dragged down some of its most val
ued ornaments. It has revelled alike upon the spoils
of the palace and cottage, and where is the family so
fortunate as not to have wept over some of its mem
bers who have fallen as victims by the hand of this
ruthless destroyer? The great, the good, and im
mortal have fallen from their high positions “like
bright exhalations in the Evening,” and died igno
miniously by the cursed tyrant.
Alexander, one of the three greatest Generals that
ever lived, the scholar of Aristotle, and who slept
with the poems of Homer under his head, after con
quering the world, died in a drunken debauch. The
foil of the great Roman Empire was precipitated by
the drunkenness of its Emperors. Six of the’ ten
Sovereigns who have reigned in Russia since the ac
cession of Peter the Great, were beastly drunkards.
The Empress Elizabeth was horribly and shamefully
brutified by strong drink; she could not bear to be
dressed of mornings; her woman would only throw
about h<-r some loose robes, which a few cuts with
scissors disengaged her in the evening. The present
King of Prussia, whom Xeibuhr instructed and prais
ed, and thanked God upon his knees that Prussia
had been blessed with such a noble Prince, is a no
torious sot, and the scoff of ail Europe! Ilannegari,
a United States Senator, when sent abroad as pleni
potentiary, disgraced the country by his incessant
debaucheries! Ed *ar Poe, the embodiment of poet
ical genius, was an abandoned drunkard. The ami
able, tender-hearted and affectionate Charles Lamb,
who could undergo any sacrifice for his sister, could
not conquer his passion for strong drink ; the de
servedly immortal and honored Hartly Coleridge
was a scholar, a gentleman, a poet, and- a drunk
ard.
Byron, Burns, Stee ! e, Hone and Sheridan may he
added to the long cataloge of illustrious beings whose
immortal spirits and brilliant genius sank into the
dark tide of dissipation. This curse is not confined
to the hovels of poverty, and the peasant’s cottage,
but it fills an important position in the palaces of the
affluent, and even in our national Capitol it exults in
a frightful supremacy—some of the most important
enactments ever passed in Congress, were passed
when the halls were filled with honorable sols, men
who were sent there as the exponents of the wisdom
and sobriety of the country.
The Scourge of Rum.
Rum is the severest scourge by which a people
was ever afflicted. Tt knows no intermission, no
cessation, no pause in its work of death. The pesti
lence hath times when its seals are closed, and it
walks forth no more to sicken and to kill. War is a
terrible curse ; but it too hushes its thunders at the
voice of peace, and its sufferings and miseries are
known no more. Rut Rum works at all times, all
seasons. In times of pestilence, or in periods of
health ; in the tranquility of peace, or amid the hor
rors of war ; in famine or in plenty ; all are times
when Rum exerts his power. The retired viliage
and the thronged city; the howling wilderness and
the cultivated country are all scenes where he riots
in savage brutalism, and destroys his victims with
fiendish joy. The wicked Kings of Judah set up
their idols in “high places” and commended the
people to congregate there and bow down In unholy
adoration. But everywhere, in high places or iri
low, in mountain or in vale hath Rum set up his al
tars and erected his temples, and there bis votaries
gather, and plunge into the tide of their own ruin
with a frantic delight. Such is the power which
Ram has acquired; a power which nothing but leg
islation and law can break down and annihilate. *
“A rattlesnake bit a drunken man in a Township
south of here. The snake survived but a short time.
— Prohibitionist.
If Jesus wept when all mankind was sentenced to
death as the penalty of his violated commandment,
he weeps more abundantly when he sees the crea
ture of his hands, made after his own image, and
with the similitude of his Holiness stamped upon
him, polluted, poisoned, and contaminated beyond
the slimy reptile that crawls upon its accursed belly.
O man, how art thou fallen! Cursed and putrified
until thou art a terror; yea, a strychnine to enven
omed serpents! Who would have believed it ? Thou
art worse than the corpses of the tobacco chewers
on th‘> hills of Mexico, which even the buzzards a
tually refused to eat.
Behold the man, over whom the horrid demon in
temperance gloats as his victim, and you see all that
is filthy and obscene. He is ghastly and disgusting
in every aspect—garments torn and tattered, drip
ping filth and blood—his body bruised and ulcera
ted—limbs trembling and palsied—his countenance
phrenzied and distorted—and every vestige and lin
eament of mind and soul defaced and blotted out—
Even the atmosphere which surrounds him is poi
soned and polluted by his foul and foetid exhalations.
Let him throw his arm round your neck after he
has dined upon “rare beef” and “inguns, ” (onions)
to disclose a “secret,” and his breath is strong
enough to hang your hat on it, and more
“Nauseous than the vapor of a vault, ”
or the scent of a charnel house, and you will cry for
deliverance from the horrible stench.
Our Book Table.
Putnam’s Monthly —The following Is the contents
of the July Number: Ist, Uncle Tom at Home ; 3d,
The May Flower; 3rd, The Spiders Eye ; 4th, New
Poetry; sth, The True Story of the cruise of the
Portland ; 6th, News from Grassland — A Mountain
Letter from John St. John, Esq., to his Friend in
Town ; 7th, The Boy of the Light-house; Bth, Ele
phant-back in Burinah ; 9th, The Song of the Sea-
Shell; 10th, A Dead Wall in Paris; 11th, Epitaph
on a Child ; 12th, Napoleon Bonaparte as a Family
Man—third and last Article ; 18th, A small German
University Town; 14th, Mrs. Professor Kramps;
15th, The Political Aspect; 16th, Editorial Notes.
Price $3 a year.
Phrenological and Water Cure Journals, are both
on our table. They are both works of great merit.
Published by Fowler and Wells, New York, at $1 &
year.
Cholera. —A 25 cent bottle of Perry Davis’ Pain
Killer will seldom fail to cure cholera if resorted to
in season, No one should be without it during chol-.
era time. Tt will cure pains of all kinds.
Invaluable. None except those who have suffer
ed all the horrors of Dyspepsia, can fully appreciate
the value and efficacy of the Oxygenated Bitters, a
sovereign remedy for this distressing disease in all its
forma.