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i-■- ■— 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.