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VOL 10. YAZOO CITY, MISSISSIPPI, WEDNESDAY, MAY 17, 1854. N. 28. THE YAZOO DEMOCRAT. Is published WEEKLY, erery Wednesday Morning ai THREE DOLLARS IN ADVANCE , or FOUR if not paid within one month from the time of subscribing. No paper will be discontinued until all arrearages are paid, uniess at the option of the pub ushers. TERMS Of ADVERTISING-. From one to ten lines, :::::::::::::"::: Each continuance:::::::::::::::::::::::::: Ten lines for one month,:::::::::::::: 44 three ::::::::::::::: ' " six ::::: :::::::: M " twelve :::::::::::: ::$1 00 :::: 50 ::::8 (K) ::::6 00 .10 00 .12 00 Longer advertistnents the same proportion. YAZOO eiiiiiif. W. ts. E P T E R S O K, EDI T O.B. An Enigma. We find this old puzzle unearthed again, after a sleep of years. It is from the pen of the celebrated Whig statesman of the Revo lutionary epoch, Charles James Fox. It is an admirable thing of the kind. We would invite a solution of it, only re questing that they only who have never be fore seen or heard the enigma will send us any answer to it : If it be true, as Welshman say, " Honor depends on pedigree,"' Then stand by ! clear the way ! JJetire, ye sons of haughty Gower, And e'en the spawn of old Glendower, And let me have fair play. For though you trace, through ages dark, Your pedigree from Noah's ark, Painted on parchment nice, I'm older still, for I v. as there, As, before that, I did appear "Wiih Eve in Paradise. For I was Adam Adam I ; And I was Eve, and Eve was I, In spite of wind or weather ; Yet mark me, Adam was not I ; Neither was Mistress Adam I, Unless they were together. Suppose, then, Eve and Adam talking. With all my heart, but if they're walking, There ends all simile ; For though Ive tongue, and often talk, And also legs, yet if I walk, It puts an end to me. Not such an end but that I've breath. Therefore, to such a kind of death I make but slight objection ; For sjon I come again in view, And, though a Christian, yet 'tis true I die by resurrection. Protcstanism and Catholicism. Extremes do sometimes meet, but we never met with a more striking illustration of the fact than is contained in the first resolution adopted by the 3,000 New England clergy men, together with their appendix from Chi cago, iu their protest against tbe Nebraska bill. It is as follows : " 1st. That the ministry is the divinely ap pointed institution f r the declaration and en forcement of God's will upon all points of mor al and religious truth, and that, as such, it is their duty to reprove, rebuke aild exhort, with all authority and doctrine." Now, to put this proposition to a fair test, it is only necessary to change a word or two in it, and we shall find that it embodies one of the most obnoxious features of Papal pre tention. Let us read as follows : " That the Papacy is the divinely appointed institution for the declaration and enforcement of Gd's will upon all points of moral and reli gious truth, and that, as such, it is the duty of the Pope to reprove, rebuke and exhort, with all authority and doctrine." AYe have italicised two expressions con tained in tbe extract from the protest, and in our papal paraphrase of it. It is hardly nc1 cessary for us to say that we equally object to the assumption of supremacy, as thus set forth, emanate from what quarter it may. And we hope the time will never come when the people of this country shall be willing to yield their assent to any such pretension. Let us imagine these three thousand cler gymen assembled in convention, and any one point of doctrine embodied in theology pre sented for their opinion upon it. Does any i.ody suppose that there would be unanimity in the result ? On the contrary, would there tiot be as much diveisity of opinion, in ail probability, as there were denominations rep resented ? And it may be fairly presumed that there would also be a considerable show rf individual sentiment, peculiar and inde pendent. But out of such a dividend, if ' divinely appointed institution, where would be the " authority" to enforce," to say noth ing of the power ? The avowal of the sen timent contained in the quoted resolutions is, however, significant. We perceive that the will is with' this " institution," to assume all authority" in " moral and religious" affairs ; and the right to "enforce" that will, as arLA will" is distinrtlv claimed. Let us & j congratulate ourselves, that in this country the nower to carry out such sentiments is not equal to the will, and at the same time tafce care that it never shall be, by whomsoever it may be assumed. Baltimore Sun. Statistics of Literary Rewards. The augry position of American publish ers and of a large majority of the reading public to the application of certain English and American authors for an international copy right law, has furnished the world with much interesting and useful information re specting the profits of successful literary in cut erprises in this country and England. The very reliable statistics upon this subject, recently published, afford gratifying evidenc e f the comfort, ease and, in many instances, wealth, of our popular and emineut writers. The time appears to have gone by when the man of genius, in dedicating his life to lite rature, was regarded by his friends as having become the voluntary victim of inevitable poverty and destitution. Tho following facts speak for themselves of a different state of things now : GoonRicH, the cross old bachelor, who un the Protean disguise of " Peter Parley," has delifirhted and instructed the children of this country- for twenty vears, has sold about m mf W " two millions of his little volumes" of his tory, geography, astronomy, travels, narra tives, fcc, S:c. Moksk, the Colossus of juvenile geograph ers, sells every vear seventv-live thousand copies of his books ; whilst Mitchkll, anoth er man of " lakes. 1 rivers, continents, and chief towns," disposes of four hundred thou sand copies of his various maps and geogra phies annually. Abbot, the popular wholesale manufactu rer of simple histories for the rising genera tion, (whose a Life of Napoleon," in Harper's Magazine, we fear will never be; completed,) has sold upwards of half a million of copies of his works. Akthon, the Yankee editor of the Clas sics, whose u sugar-coated" notes to Horace, VjjrgU, Ca?sar, and Cicero have driven from our preparatory schools the good old "ortho dox " Adelphi editions" of those much abus ed Roman authors, sells more than fifty thou sand dollars worth of his pinehbeck learning and trash annually. About eight hundred thousand dollars worth of Webster's Dic tionaries have also been sold much to the det riment of the pure old English orthography of our fathers. Of that concentration of Beecher Stowe mendacity, " Unci Tom," about a half a million of copies have been sold in this coun trv, and its unscrupulous authoress has been made rich by successful lying. Turning from these instances of successful humbugs, we rejoice to find Washington Irving, that Chevalier Bayard of the litera ry world, has, at various times, disposed of not less than half a million of his pure, de lightful, and noble books, and now leads a life of literary ease at his beautiful country seat on the Hudson, in the midst of scenes rendered classic by his genius and eloquent pen. But alas ! for the taste and discrimination of the American public, that most detestable of all literary quacks, Headly, has managed to get rich by the sale of two hundred thou sand copies of his wretched twaddle Napo leon and his Marshals," " The Sacred Moun tains," &c, fcc, at the rate of a dollar and a quarter a volume. And, as an illustration of the piety of our people, we find that ' Barnes1 the industrious Biblical commen tator, has sold upwards of three hundred thousand volumes illustrating the dark and briery passages of the Bible, at seventy-five cents per volume. That eminent divine's "searcbings of the Scriptures" have not been without their terrestrial compensation, in the shape of certain metallic abominations called dollars, without taking into account the pro bable celestial reward which awaits his use ful labors elsewhere". Miss Varner's literary bread-pills and ro mantic water-gruel, commonly known as " Queechy," and the " Wide, Wide, World," have been swallowed by the weaker sex and the man-milliners of this country, to the ex traordinary amount of one hundred and four thousand copies ; and Mrs. Lee Hentz, in three years, has sold ninety-three thousand volumes of very similar literary pabulum. Jared Sparks, " Biographer and Histori an," has managed to get off one hundred thousand volumes of illustrious unknowns carefully and industriously collected, and pi ously stuffed specimens from all the villages of New England, and embalmed in tho rec tified and double-distilled laudanum of that worthy's pen and brain. Of Stephens' Travels there have been one hundred and forty thousand copies (proceeds $100,000) sold in this country ; and Seward the notorious Abolition Senator, has sold to his associate blacks, whites, and mulattoes, thirty Or forty thousand copies of his " Life of John Quincey Adams." "Leslie's Cookery Book" is in the hands of ninety -six thousand Ameriean ladies ; and of poor Downing's work on Architecture; Gardening drc, &c, there have been, thirty thousand copies sold at an average of three Moll too widely circulated. Three hundred thousand dollars' worth of " Woods and Bache's Medical Dispensary" have been sold ; and among the medical wri ters of this country, Dunolinson and Pan- coast have been equally fortunate in selling their bald compilations and medico-literary piracies from the eminent English, Scotch and French doctors. Among our jurists, Kent, Story, and Greenleaf have been the most popular and successful. Eighty-four thousand copies of Kent's Commentaries have been sold, at $3 88 per volume; and Story's works, after enriching their author, still yield $8,000 per annum to his family. Greenleaf's work on Evidence has also had a circulation almost equal to that of Kent's Commentaries. Of Prescott's Histories 100,000 copies hare been sold, and of Bancroft's United States 30,000 copies, the works of both historians averaging $3 per volume. The sales of the writings of " Ik Marvel," Hawthorne, Longfellow, Bryant, Willis, Curtis, Emerson, Holmes, and Lowell, have been equally great with that of other authors, the statistics of whose profits and sales we have given. Nearly all of the American authors of merit, and many of no genuine worth, are in comfortable, and very many of them in affluent circumstances. Here we have a literary mountebank, like Headly, living in affluence, whilst in Ger many, that great writer, Humboldt, now eighty-four years of age, lives in a small room, with a sanded floor, and is too poor to own a copy of his own writings. Tom Hood died some years ago, destitute of the neces saries of life, whilst "Ik Marvel" wears corn-colored gloves, and saunters about Sara toga a buck of the first water, and now rep resents his country abroad in a very honora ble capacity. That intolerable puppy, Wil lis, writes his letters for the Home Journal from a castellated, magnificent country resi dence, but Tasso was too poor to buy a can dle by the light of which to write his immor tal poem. Steele was badgered and hunted like a wild beast by bailiffs, but Hawthorne enjoys a salary of thirty thousand dollars a vear. Poor Goldsmith sold the Vicar of Wakefield for ton guineas, to pay a greedy landlady, who proposed to him a prison or a marriage but Washington Irving owns a paradise on the Hudson, and is surrounded by every comfort and luxury. Cervantes perished for want of bread, Defoe died insol vent, Boyce died in a garret from starvation, Milton, as we all know, sold his Paradise Lost for ten pounds, Otway died of hunger, Dryden died in a garret, Sheridan wrote for his 11 lee of mutton," and Plautus was a mil ler. Indeed, all the literary " immortals" of ancient, medieval, and of modern times even to the close of the last century had a hard and dreary time of it, and certainly found the muses anything but liberal mis tresses, and Parnassus a desert rather than a land of gold. But the American authors have "realized" that M better time," which was so long in ma king its appearance. The brain of a hungry starving Cervantes, could have furnished the intellectual stock in trade of all , the New England authors ; yet Longfellow has more money in bank than all of "the great Writers of the data of Dr. Johnson ever saw. Head; ly is a booby at whom Johnson would have roared like a "pricked moon call yet " Washington and his Generals owns a nner house than the old literary lion ever slept in, except when visiting a lord. , Melville, Prescott, bparks, Loweu,tne eag wicks. Holmes, Emerson, Bancroft, Godrich, and the other New England writers, own beautiful and tastful residences in the most picturesque portions of Massachusetts, for lit erature has now its substantial as rell as its honorable rewards. Fortune and Fame unite in making the successful author a happy and prosperous man. There are no longer writers of genius, w ith laurelled brows, and empty stomachs, starving in garrets, for posterity to erect rriarble hypocricies over their pauper bones. Fame now sounds the successtui au thor's praise through a silver trumpet; Miss Martineau gn Egypt. One im pression has taken me by surprise. I used to wonder, and always did till now, at that stupidity of the Israelites which so angered their leader their pining after Egypt after finding it impossible to live there. It was inconceivable how they could long to go back to a place of such cruel oppression for the sake of anything it could give. I now wonder no longer, having seen and felt the desert, and knowing the charms of the valley of the Nile. One evening lately, just at sun set, the scene struck upon my heart, oppressing it with the sense of beauty. A village was beside an extensive grove of palms, wluch sprang from out of the thickest and richest clover, to the height of eighty feet Their tops waved gently in the soft breeze which ruffled the surface of a blue pond, lying among grassy shores. There were golden lights and sharp shadows among the banks, where a stream had lately made its way. The yellow sand-hills of the desert just showed themselves between the stems of the more scattered palms. Within view, were some carefully tilled fields, with strong wheat, lupins, and, purple bean blossoms, and some melon and cucumber patches were not far off; cattle were tethered beside the houses and on a bank near sat an old woman and girl, basking in the last rays of the sun, wrth evident enjoyment, though the magical colo ring given by an Egyptian atmosphere could not be so striking as to English eyes. But what must it have been in the memory of the Israelites wandering in the desert, where there Hyracolor except at sunset, but only glare jppled rocks and choking dust or sand. IfejPFnot attempt now, for no one has ev$r succeeded in such an attempt, to eonve riness lv saif liy impression of the appalling drea jbe depths of the desert. I can on- Sf when it rose up before me in con trast with that nook of a vallev at sun-set, I at last understood the surrender of the heart and reason on the part of the Israelites, and could sympathize intheir forgetfulness of past woes in their pining for verdure and streams, for shade and good food, and for a perpetual sight of the adored river, instead of the hate ful sights which hemmed them in whichever way they turned. 1 CrSOIliiilUCS 01 LllCnitl. jerrold. Douglas Jerrold, a known contributor to Punch, and edito of various publications, a man ot about htty years ot age, and in per- re(i to nave )lls pictUre taken. But his coin son is remarkably spare and diminutive. plexiou is only a shade darker than the aver- llis tace is sharp and angular, and m eyes are ot a greyish hue. He is probably one ot the most caustic writers of the age, and with keen sensibility he often writes under the im pulse of the moment, uticles which his cool er judgment condemns. Although a believ er in hydropathy, his hibits do not conform to the internal application of Adam's ale. His CaUdle Lectures haxe been read by eve ry one. In conversation he is quick at re tort not always refiued. He is a husband and grandfather. MAC ACLT. The Hon. T. B. Macauh is short in sta ture, round, and with a growing tendency to aldermanic disproportions. His tread has the same rotundity as his body, and seems stuck on it as firmly as a pin-head. This is nearly the sum of his personal defects ; all else, except the voice, (which is monotonous and disagreeable,) is certainly in his favor. His face seems literally instinct with expres sion ; the eye, above all, full of deep thought and meaning. As he walks or rather strug gles along the street, he seems as if in a state of total abstraction, unmindful of all that is going on around him, and solely occupied by his own working mind. You cannot help thinking that literature with him is not a mere profession or pursuit, but that it has al most groAvu a part of himself, as though his torical problems or analytical criticism were a part of his daily and regular intellectual food. bailey. A correspondent of the Tribune, writing from Nottingham. England, says : " 1 have sech Bailey, author of 1 Festus. His father is proprietor of the Nottingham Mercury, and the editorial department rests with him. He is a thick set sort of a man; complexion dark ; atid in years abont thirty and eight. His physiognomy would be clownish in expression, if his eyes did not re deem his other features. He spoke of Fes tus,' and of its fame in America, of which he seemed very proud. In England it has only reached its third edition, of which eight or nine have been published in the States." de quincey. lie is one of the smallest legged, smallest and most attenuated effigies of the human form divine that one could meet in a crowd ed city during a day's walk. And if one add to this figure clothes that are neither fashionably cut nor fastidiously adjusted, he will have a tolerably rbugh idea of De Quin- cey's outer-man. But then his brow, that pushes his obtrusive hat to the back of his head, and his light grey eyes that do not seem to look out, but to be turned inward, sounding the depth Of his imagination and searching out the mysteries of the most ab struse logic, are something that you would search a week to find the mates to, and then you would be disappointed. De Qnincey now resides at Lassdale, a romantic rural village, once the residence of Sir Walter Scott, about seven miles from Edinburgh, Scotland, where an affectionate daughter watches over him, and where he is the won der of the country people for miles around. LAMARTINE. Lamartine is yes, young ladies, positive ly a pWtn-looking man, with a long face, short gray hair, a slender figure, atid a suit of black ! Put a pen behind his ear and he would look like a 'confidential clerk.' Give his more character, and he would remind you of Henry Clay. He has a fine head, phrenologically speaking large and round at the top, with a spacious foreheaad, and a scant allotment of cheek. Prim is the word though. There is nothing in his appearance which is ever so remotely suggestive of the romantic. He is not even pale, and a for a rolling shirt-collar or a Byronic tie-, he is ev idently not the man to think of such things. Romance, in fact, is the article he lives by, and like other men choose9 to sink the shop, at least when he sits for his portrait. DUMAS, On the contrary, is a burly fellow. lib large, red, round cheeks stand out till thev seem to stretch the very skin that covers them, and it looks as smooth as a polished apple. Hi3 black, crisp hair is piled high above his forehead, and stands divided into two unequal masses, one inclining 4o the right and the other to the left. His eves are dark and his mouth sensuous, but not to the degree of vulgarity. His person is large, and his flowing mantle red. He is the gen tleman to lay bear the throat and look ro mantic, not Byronically so, but piratically. Yet he looks good humored, and like a man whose capacity for political enjoyment of all kinds is boundless. His negro blood is evi dent to one who knows he has it ; but it viT.nlfl lint Ha AntantnA htr r. r r 1-nr.wf ! riot, ft nnrn in Ti r i iirfi Miliar r.fnr.,iitv ,.f the man ancj aji his part. It crisped and heaped his hair, it gave the fulness to his j mouth, and it made him dress up in flowim; age. The portrait reminds us for a moment 0f the late Thomas Hamblin, the actor. EUGENE SUE. Is neither prim nor burly. He ta a man of large frame, over which a loose black coat is carelessly buttoned. Complexion light, eyes blue, hair once black and bushy, now pepper-and salt whiskers voluminous eye brows, black and thick good forehead, and lower face ample. This conveyed no better idea of the man's appearance than the de scription in a French passport. But the truth is, Sue'9 countenance and figure have none of those peculiarities which make de scription possible. He looks in this portrait like a comfortable, careless, elderly gentle man, taking his ease in an easy coat He does not look like an author authors seldom do. His hair is rather that of a prosperous citizen. Sue is only forty -five years old, but he has lived fast, and looks fifty-five. La martine is sixty-three ami would pass easily for fifty-three. Dumas is fifty and could get credit for thirty-eight. N. Y. Times. GOING WEST. A correspondent furnishes the following information to the Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post, for the benefit of those desi rous of going West. It is worth reading: - Jacksonville, III., March 10, 1854. In your paper of March 1 1, are some in quiries about the West, made by men in the East, which I shall take the library of trans cribing and replying to in my own war. The article, it appears, was copied from the New Y'ork Tribune, but as I first noticed it in your paper, I send you the reply. To my personal knowledge, the West has been flooded with just such queries for the last twenty years, until we are heartily tired of them. We know by experience that if we tell the truth in the matter about the agricul tural facilities of the West, not one in ten thousand of all those who live in the East, and have never been fifty miles from home, will believe it; of course it is a matter of in difference to many what they believe. The first question comes from Cambridge port, Massachusetts, and reads as follows; "Which is the best time for going West, the spring or autnmn 1" The best time forgoing West is when you have the most money about you, and the least fear of losing it. If you come in the spring you are sure to shake yourself to death with the ague before spring, if you don't freeze to death before yoU get here; If you come at all, you had better get yoUr stomach lined with water proof cement, so that to be able to digest corn bread, bacon and whisky, for this is all we have to eat except a few French frogs and bilious looking tadpoles, which we catch when the river runs down: Second question "What part of the West is the best to emigrate to, taking into consid eration the healthiness of the climate?" A variety of opinions about that, my dear fellow. Our Senator, Mr; Douglas, says Ne braska is the best. So it is, if you want lo go into the stock business, raising an unruly kind of mix colored cattle, that will stray off to Canada, in spite of the compromise of 1 850, 1820, or Senator Douglas. Or if you want to speculate in papooses, white scalps, and get yaur own scalp taken off scientifically, go to Nebraska by all means. If you want to play poker for a living, and set up whisky drinking for a business, live on corn bread and bacon week days, and slippery elm bark and tadpoles on Sunday, come to Illinois.- If you want to go where they don't have no Sundays nor nothing to eat, only what they brought from the East, go to Iowa ; or if want to go to-graa, to go on all fours, and do as other kinds of cattle do, go to Salt Lake. Third question - " Does the fever and ague prevail much in Wisconsin ?" Of course it does. Nobody out West ia fool enough to a&k a question. Every body shakes ; even the trees shake ; you can't coav a crab apple to stay on when it is good for anything; it will shake off. It will shake a man off the bed kick him out of doors, and shake the bedstead at him till he gives it up. Fourth question. " How long does a pre emption hold gxd V Ihat depends on circum-itauces. If rou have a good rille, and know how to use it, you have one chance to ten that you may liv e until you starve to death. But if you can't stand fire, and nre not a good shot and a quick one, take my word for it you had bet ter tarry in Jericho until your beard be grown; they are all too smart for you up in that neck Ol V OOCIS. Fifth question " Is laud to be had in the northwest part of Ohio for $1 25 per acre, and is it good f That's all fudge, got up by speculators to gull some green horn like you or me, for to the best of my knowledge and belief, Ohio was worn out ten years ago. The whole bus iness of the railroads in warm weather, is to carry back person Who have be.-n tool enough to cone West. All the railroads are doing this winter are carrying dirt into Ohio out of Michigan to raiso a few beans and oats to keep the folks from stan ing to death next summer. As to the land in the north-west of Ohio, it is eighteen inches under water most of tho year, and will probably be worth $1 25 per acre when water-snakes and copper-heads brings as much per barrel in New York mar kets as potatoes are worth per bushel in Al ton. And lastly, he wants reliable information a. short article in your paper relating to the subject and he wants to go to a healthy lo cation, decent land and fair Water. Exactly ! Why, my dear sir, there is no such thing as reliable information out West, Onl you pay well for it. A lawyer won't tell tho truth unless you give him five hundred dol lars, and they can't believe half he says. ' A witness won't tell the truth in Court un less you first scare him half to death and make him swear he won't he, and then neith er himself nor any body else knows whether he tells the truth or not The preachers all call us an inveterate set of sinner-, but from What I have written yon, you must know wo are a pretty good sort of people. If you ask a miss of stout, blooming six teen for a kiss, she pettishly says no, when every body knows bbq means yes, of course. On the whole, if you feel obliged by our " short article," so do I. If you" want "to go to a healthy land, stay at home, and don't bo a fool like myself and come out west. And as for decent land, my dear fellow, w hat do you mean ? Y'ou inUst know that all our wild prairie is very indecent, especially when it is hurt over and left as naked as it w as born. 'Tis true nature Weaves a sort of fig leaf apron every summer out of a coai-se kind of grass, but it soon gets burnt off, and is as indecent as ever. As for fair water, we have none, it is all a billious compost of liquid mud, dead buffa loes, fish and rotten rattle snakes. Our common drink, when we can't get whis key, is one third coffee, one third prairie mud and to-baCco juice; Upon the w hole, if you have good water, and can get half enough to eat, stay where you are. Yours truly, PETER FILEMAKER. P. S. Jacksonville was formerly in Wis consin, but a big freshet floated most of tho houses down twenty miles south of the Illi nois River, and stuck them on a high and dry ridge. We expect the next rise in the river will take us down into old Kaintuck. The Little Boy That Died . Dr. Chalmers is said to be the "author of the following beautiful poem, written on the occasion of the death of a young son whom he greatly loved: I am all alone in my chamber now, Ann the midnight houi is near; And the laggot's crack, and the clock's dull tick; Are the only sounds 1 hear, And over my soul in its solitude, Sweet feelines of sadness Elide, For my heart and my eyes are full when I thinK Of the little boy Uial died. I went one night to my father's house Went home to the dear ones all And aoftly I opened,the garden eate, And softly the door ofthe hail. My ai other came out to meet her son She kissed me, and then she sighed. And her head fell on my neck, and she wept For the little boy that died. I shall miss him when the flowers come, In the ganlen where he plaved ; I shall miss him mow by the fire-side, When the flowers have decayed. I shall see his tojs and his empty chair, Aud the horse he used to ride ; And they will ppeak with a silent speech Of the little boy that died. We shall go home to our Father's house To our Father's house in the skies, Where the hope ot our souls 6ball have no blight, Our love no broken ties. We shall roam on the banks of the river of peace; And bathe in its blissful tide, And one of our joys of the heaven akalt be The little boy that died