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dZJGUS^^ AND GEORGIA snfecrffiiitr* BY T. S. HANNON. 1 ==r- ■ ■ • - ] TERMS. I For the City paper, (thrice n week,) Six Dollar* i vacuum, payable in advance, or Seven Dollars t not paid before the end of the year. i For the Country paper, (once a week,) Three lk)l --ars per annum, payable in advance, or lour l>ol- < ara, if not paid lieiore the end of the year. Any order from a responsible subscriber to dis continue his paper will be complied with on a set tlement of dues, and not before. „ Advertisements will be inserted at the following rates; For the first insertion, per square, Sixty two and a half cents; for each subsequent, lucra tive. insertion, Forty three and three quarter cents; In all other cases fi2 1-2 cents per square. When an advertisement is sent, w ithout a speci fication In writing of the number of insertions, it will be published until ordered out, and charged accordingly. LETTERS, (on business) must be post-paid—or they may not meet with attention. (O' In this paper the Laws of the United States arc published. The following has hecu a full year upon our (lie for inserticn, but the wit of It is quite too passable to be withheld any longer from a community where all sorts of diseases are resolved into the more fashionable one Dyspepsia. We commend it to sundry of our good friends, even if they should chance to laugh thereby, —Village Record. DYSPEPSIA —Extract from a Diary. April 5. —Got up with increased stricture over my eyes; acute pain in the left breast; sense of weak ness ; thought it might be want of food. Breakfasted on strong tea, dipt toast and slices of ham. Had the heart burn shockingly ; very un easy about the breast; thought I was going to be unwell; had a great mind to consult a physician ; post poned it; never liked physic ; think it dont agree with me. Had a disa greeable^forenoon; business irksome. Came home to dinner; took a lit tle bitters. Dined upon fried fish, ragout veal, and boiled flour pudding; avoided all vegetables but potatoes ; drank cider and six glasses of wine ; no fruit, but felt miserably all the af ternoon. Thought I was low spirited and that if I kept my engagement for the evening, I might be better. Limited myself at supper to some fine fat cheese, new bread and porter. Came home no better; had a most restless night—all the imps of the lower re gions seemed to have been sent to jstare me in the face the moment I closed my eyes, began to fear I had got the dyspepsia, and if I have, what a villainous disease it is. April 6.—Got up feverish—look’d at my tongue in the glass; found it badly coated : Concluded to live sparingly and change my diet. Gave up tea drinking—it hurts my nerves —drank a pint *f coffee and ate two hot muffins, with honey instead of Butter; like butter, but think it does cot agree with me. Heart burn a-1 gain ! lam surprised at this ! took' a pint of soda water to carry it off- j felt very flatulent—pains about the region of the stomach much increas ed—must be careful at dinner. Ve ry heavy and uncomfortable all the forenoon—out of sorts with myself and every body else—dined upon boiled pork, turnips and rice—drank brandy and water. Sharp wander ing pains alKthe afternoon. Deter mined to take advice, but put it ofl’i till to-morrow, because ! must go to j the fire club this evening. Wenti with a fixed resolution not to eat or! drink any thing whatever. Could 1 not resist the scolloped oysters and; lobsters. The tongue they said, was! excellent—ate a lew slices with cel- j lery.—Ate a few nuts after figs—j they were the finest I have seen and' three sweet oranges, the only ones I have seen this season. Some of the songs were very good—the wine passable—was astonished and griev ed to find on rising that I had taken at least a pint of it. Came home ve-j ry much oppressed—felt shockingly! —seemed as if 1 should burst, tho’j it was only wind—drank a pint of hot water dash’d with gin—did no [ good—went to bed—had the night! mare cruelly—dreamed that Tom Paine’s bones were in bed with me. Could lie no longer—trot up—rub -feed myself an hour with a crash tow el—brought on a perspiration which Was followed by a chill, when I stop ped to take breath—kept on rubbing —fell asleep in my chair, tumbled on the floor—crept into bed again. Old, ugly distorted faces thronged around me whenever I shut my eyes. Kept obstinately awake till day light—got asleep, slept till ten. April 7 —Got up quite dispirited, tongue worse—mouth very dry ; shooting pains through my head and breast; but must take advice—but resolved to see what one day’s care ful living will do. Abandoned lea and coffee—l ain shure they hurt me. Took a pint of chocolate, four crackers and three herrings, instead of butter. Am sure bread don’t a gree with me’ Told my servant that I was resolved to be very careful, and ordered him to watch me all day, and to put the like of every thing that I ate and drank, into a milk pan, that I might see how it all looked toge ther. Told him to begin with cho colate, crackers and herrings.—, Heartburn came on again ; can’t ac- j count for all this Lump of magnesia j into my stomach and one into the milk-pan. Took exercise on horse | back—came back with my stomach all in a broil —put a pint of soda wa ter into it, and a pint into the milk pan. Had a small party to dine— determined to be careful. Ate bnoUle beet—one glass of port after it—part of a duck, a little brandy and water. Took very little gravy, sauce or cellcry. Ate four crackers, and a whole pepper to help diges tion. Took two slices Hunter’s pudding ; ate a few nuts, raisins, figs, and only two oranges—a few sweet meats —about pint of Madeira, one glass of Champaign®, two of Curra coa—drank coffee, ate two pieces of cracker toast, and a slice of pound cake. Took snuff all the time 1 was not eating, drinking, or smoaking.— (Equal quantities of all these, except snutf and cigars, into the milk-pan.) The company very agreeable—sat late ; fine glee. Company left me ; felt shockingly oppressed, head ached distressingly. Felt as if two of me had got into my skin. Flatu lent, flushed, and hot and cold by turns. Concluded to walk over South Boston bridge before going to bed—cold east wind—soon turned back. Dreadful oppression—night mare ; horrid faces ; short naps ; frightful dreams; heart bum ; shoot ing pains all over me; trembling in the stomach and limbs. Afraid that 1 must have eaten something that did not agree with me, April B—Got up very unwell ; tongue very much furred ; pulse (tea? irregular: shooting pains ; head con fused ; sense of soreness in swallow ing. Began to think I was going to be sick—dressed myself with diffi culty—could not shave for trembling. Thought of diet for the day, and this made me think of the milk-pan.— Told the servant to bring it. Good heavens, what a mess; thought the servant had cracked a joke upon me; examined him sharply He protested he had been critically exact. Doubt ed him. Resolved to read Chessel den, to see where the stomach is si tuated, and how much it can hold Resolved to read Fourcroy, to learn how heat operates upon mixtures, but coneldued to see for myself—and therefore put the milk pan over a slow fire, about equal to natural ani mal warmth—watched the changes, was horror struck at the process ! Uneasiness and pains increased mo mently ; and soon felt so much in disposed and alarm conclude;! to skip Chcsseld«n and Fourcroy and send immediately for a doctor. He came —showed him my milk pan—told him my servant said I had just the same quantity of things in my sto mach ! The doctor said he had no ■ doubt of it! I told the doctor I was afraid I had got the dyspepsia, and asked him whether he thought, from l1• 0 7 j the specimen of the milk pan, that ! had livctl properly, for one suffering under that abominable disease. ENGLISH FEELING. A small farmer in the vicinity of Manchester, not long since, killed a cow, and sent part of the beef and a quantity of suet to his son, a weaver j iu Blackley, who hung it up so near i the window that some one in the 1 night broke a pane and carried oft' [ the suet. In the morning the weaver, ! missing his suet, went to the ale ; house, where he posted up the fol lowing advertisement, which still re t mains an evidence of the right John I Bull generosity and spirit :—Where ! as, last night a quantity of beef suet was taken from the house of r l homas Wolstonecroft—this is to give notice that it the person who took it away will appear and prove that ho was forced to do so by distress, the said j Thomas Wolstonecroft will give him a dozen of flour to make the suet in |to dumplings. But if he cannot prove that he was in distress when Ihe stole, it, the said Thomas Wol- I stonecroft will fight him, and give him five shillings if he beats him.” EXTRAORDINARY GROWTH. We are credibly informed, that Mr. Win. Worden, of Russia, during the last season, has raised in his gar den a double Onion, weighing two pounds and seven ounces ! ! We question whether * Thy fields, 0 Withers field J of yore That many a pungent onion bore—” can show a Yankee product of the kind, superior to this. As our vicinity is justly famed for gigantic productions in the vegetable, so we are favoured with some scat tering specimens of the great, in tlie animal world. For instance—there 1 is an acquaintanegof ours, Mr. Ja- : cob Hovey, nowffving in Oppen- £ heim, (MoiUgometW’ounty,) a few 1 miles from this placed whose dimen- s sions are its follows —height, 5 feet 10 t inches : circumference of; his body, i 5 feet 5 1-2 inches; of his thigh, 1 three feet 5 1-4 inches; his arm, I 1 foot 5 1-4 inches. Mr.! Hovey, it t must be owned, was a native of Nor- ; wich, Connecticut; but tfiis country ( has given him residence so long, that i Iwe believe her entitled to the credit I jof fringing him to his present good- ; ly bulk. Ae is about 60 years of i age ; enjoys good health, and is a so- ’ cial and intelligent companion. ( [/-'to ple’t'Jf'fiend, ; (Query. What is Mr. Hovey’s < system of locomotion ? pocs he ( walk ? or does he roll ?.) i ' From the Loudon Literary Qazette. ( i the w o coats. Farewell! far*w*U*4o«ip hast thou worn, Tho’clouted, thread iare now, and lorn; A trusty servant, e’en -md morn, To me thou’st been, And, eratefu’ still, I winna scorn t _ ° My gultlVld ftlen’ Allan Ramsay. Shakspeare says, tliat many a man’s coat is his father, and, like most things he has said, it is true. — ’ How many are there who would be , nullius filu if it were not f>r their;, vestments! People say that old friends are better than new ones: 1 , presume that this does not hold good , as it relates to habits—for the per- i son 1 mean—for all the world prefer new coats to old ones, and all the world must he right. It is now five years, when the sun shall have set upon the 12th of June, 1822,’ that ray late coat was brought home. With what delight did 1 sur vey it! how eagerly 1 listened to the; exhortations of the maker how to told; 1 it up ! how cautiously I pat it on, i and how carefully I felt in my pocket: , for my key whi n I locked it up ! Its colour was suited . to' the tint of my I mind; it was a bright green with 1 Waterloo buttons. Green coats were j then the sine qua non of a beau.— ; Black and blue u hid their diminish ed heads,” or rather tails; and al . though now and then a brown ap . peared, it passed along amidst the , scoffs of the multitude. The first year every* thing went well. 1 stalked down Bond-street at , the full glare of half past four. 1 was not afraid to meet the purse proud stare of the glittering oriental in Hyde Park on Sunday; nor did I shrink before the glance of a St. James’ Blood. The second year, in , spite of all my anxiety, an incipient . whiteness began to appear on the el . I bows. The Waterloo buttons look , j cd somewhat shorn of their beams, , j and the collar had been slightly an ;. noyed by the too rude pressure of 1 the hat; however, it had not yet had i a regular wetting, if I omit tire bap , tising it got from my gallantry to Miss Protocol, in giving Ijer more . than her share of my cotton Umbrella. , But the third year now fast qpproach . ed; years rolled on, et nos mutamur i in i/lit —and so did my cant. The i thread of the lives of two of its but tons had been snapped; one was | wrenched off by a friend, notwith . standing my agonized lo»k, whilst he , was telling me the fate of his farce ; the other fell into a gradual decline, i and died a natural death. The bright green had now faded, and had imbi bed a tint of brown ; the cellar was dilapidated, the cuffs were in ruins. I struggled on, however, another yyear, but i left my former scenes.— I would go half a mile out of the way to avoid Si. James’ street —1 would , go a mile out of my way rather than pass Hyde Park on a Sunday. Three more buttons had fell underthe scythe jof Time: some tiling must be done— I I sent it to be repaired, and 1 hardly knew it again. The Waterloo buttons once more dazzled by their brightness; I new culls and collar sprang up like ’ phoenixes from the ashes of their fa ’ j thers; and though the fashion of coats ’, had somewhat altered, yet, I held an I I erect head. But ah I this was a dcceit | ful splendour—a glimpse of sunshine on a rainy day; the constitution of the coat was ruined, and it soon suffered a relapse. At last my resolution was taken— a new coat must be ordered. It was a precept of my late respected un cle Nicholas, that one good dear gar ment is worth two bad cheap ones; ‘ and 1 always act up to it. I walked up boldly to Mr. S , in s*ond -1 street; and although I met with some ‘ bread stares at my entrance, yet when my purpose was known, every thing was respectful attention. With what elevation did I survey myself in , the double mirror close to the win t dow! With what hauteur did I bid the r tradesman be punctual as to the hour ! . How fiercely did I brush by the beaux » in my return, witli the delightful tho’t that 1 should soon have it in my power to cut them all out. How many are the advantages of a new coat ! a new pair of trowsers rather serves to con ‘ trast the oldness of the upper gar ment with its own novelty ; but a • coat diffuses its splendour through the , whole ; it brightens a withered pair • of pantaloons, and rivivjfies a faded ■ waistcoat; it illuminates a worn-out beaver, and even gives a respectable c appearance to an antiquated pair ot a gaiters. A man in a new coat holds t his head erect, his chest forward ;he c shakes the pavement with his flat- a tcring heels; he looks defiance to e- \ very man, and love to every woman ; 1 he overturns little boys, and abuses I hackney-coachmen; if he enter a I tavern, he calls lustily for his drink, 1 and knocks the waiter down if he ’ does not bring it soon enough. But * a man in an old coat hangs his head, fumbles in his moneyless pockets, and stumbles at every third step; he : is scorned by the men, and unnoticed by tiie women; he is jeered at by children, and hustled by jarveys : at a tavern, he enters the parlour with a , sheepish face, knowing his right to be ! , there, but fearing it may be disputed . the waiter sniggers, and the land- I lord bullies him. Such then is the difference which the outward man makes. U Et t'habit, fait sans plus, le maitre el if valet.’ W. B. In a certain town, not more than fifty miles from Boston, as the cler gyman was holding forth in his usual drowsy manner, one of the Deacons, probably influenced by the narcotic qualities of the discourse, fe?f into a doze. The preacher happening to use the words, What is the price of all earthly pleasures ? the good Dea con, who kept a small store, thinking the inquiry respecting some kind of merchandize, immediately answered, Sr urn and six pence a dozen. Mrs. Wells of Wethersfield, (for merly Miss Woodhouse) has received by the hand of Mr. Marcus Bull of this City, the Medal and twenty guineas which were awarded to her j by the British “ Society of Arts,” for | her ingenuity in the manufacturing ot j the splendid Bonnet, which Mr. Bull 'carried to London. We have not seen the Medal, but we understand that it is of perfectly pure silver, of about the circumference and twice the thickness of a crown—with various emblematic devices, elegantly execut ed on one side, and on the other, a short inscription stating who gave it, to whom it was given, and for what reason. lu remarking on the new material for fine straw plait, the Connecticut Courant says— “ The Importance of this discovery to that country will be readily per ceived, when we state that not less than one hundred thousand females, who have been formerly employed in the manufacture of Straw Bonnets, arc now either partially or wholly de prived of their only means of obtain ing a reputable substance. —From the experiments already made in culti vating the grass in England, no doubt remains as to its success; and we may say with safety, that in giving this discovery to our mother country, we make her a valuable return in the account of reciprocating national dis coveries and improvements. We sincerely hope that the importance of this discovery to our own country may not be lost sight of; but tliat im mediate and extensive establishments may be formed for the manufacture of domestic Leghorns, as we cannot doubt that such establishments would meet with a liberal support from all classes of society.— [Conn. Mur or. PETER PUFF—auctioneer,dyer, and man milliner—mends clocks and makes whigs—tunes piano fortes and cuts corns—man mid-wife and horse shoer—bellows maker and teacher of psalmody—has a diploma from Gret na Green, and an other from Aber deen—attends at all times and places from break of day till 3 o’clock the next morning to unite the votaries of Hymen,—inoculates children—bleei Is horned cattle and other vermin—rin gs pigs’ noses and the parish bells, ai id performs all kinds ofmanucl opper a tion by steam, water, and thirty si.s ass-power without touching hand <ir foot to the machinery. [lrish paper. From the account which follows 7 (and which we find in the Londoi i Courier of the 3d September) of it storm at Venice, it would seem t< > have been equal in violence to tha t recently experienced here—and near • ly as fatal in its consequences to hu- • man life. —[Charleston Courier. The following is an extract of a., private letter from Venice :—“ On ’ the 25th ult. this city was visited wit h one of the most tremendous stomas that we ever recollected to have heard J of. The wind blew with animpo-; tuosity impossible to be described.— , The howling of the tempest, the in - cessant streams of lightning, the pro longed rolling of the thunder, the crash of windows, chimnies, and tiles, carried terror into the mont courageous hearts. The full const quences of this horrid affair are not yet known, but they must be dreae 1- ful. All the vessels at anchor in th e canal suffered more or less; three c>f them were sunk ; the surface of it was covered with fragments nfgoci dolas; the lead upon the churche s I and several edifices was torn up am i * carried to an immense distance. To e all this s :ene' of horror must be added a the torrent of hailstones, the smallest a of which were the size of a walnut, ii and many of them weighed from se- c ven ounces to a pound. The num- I ber of persons killed is not exactly a known; but the bodies of 137 have 1 been taken up, who perished by the 1 fall of hailstones, chimnies, &c. or r were suffocated by the wind.” r i t l -- t THURSDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1822. ! There were thirty interments in s the burial grounds of this city during ; the last month, viz. Twenty Whites 1 Ten Blacks. Os this number two 1 died in Hamburg, S. C. and one on j the Sand-Hills. —— l Letters have been received in this city from Pensacola, dated the 6th of ! September; at which time, the sick- i ness continued. The report of the death of Dr. J. C. Bronaugh, the President of the Legislative Council, is but too certain, though we have not the date or other particulars of his decease. Edmund Law was chosen in his stead President of the Leg? dative Council, the session of which was to have terminated on the 22d of last month. The same letter gives an account of the death of Dr. McMahon, a respectable physician. bit. From the Washington Republi an. The Next President. In the discussion of the question, Who shall become the successor of President Monroe? —It is truly la mentable that crimination and invec tive should have taken the place of thorough investigation, correct infor mation, and fair reasoning. In can vassing a subject of so much magni tude, and such deep interest to the whole people, »• wa» hoped that pri vate rancour, as well as party pre judices and resentments, would have yielded to more patriotic and Ameri can feelings. It was earnestly de sired that reason, and t not passion should influence the discussion; and that the real merits ot the several candidates, or, in other words, the qualifications which each possesses for the highest station in the country, —president of the United States, not the head of a party or faction,— only should be brought into view, freely but candidly examined, and the palm justly and tritely awarded! Such, however, is the perverseness of human nature, that (hose, who from the hope of preferment or gain have enlisted in a bad cause, or have advanced un tenable positions, will often resort to partial and exaggerated statements, to false deductions and specious rea soning, to vague surmises and per sonal invective, in support of their accusations against the objects of their assault—no matter how virtuous the man, or able and faithful the offi cer. But these pitiful shifts, —this indulgence in scurility and declama tion,—will work the proper cure. — They will have the effect to convince the people that the cause which can be sustained by such means only, must indeed be unsound —must be unworthy of support. A free inquiry as to the pretensions of candidates for office is not only desirable, but absolutely necessary to the preservation of our republican in stitutions ; and, to an ardent attach ment to those institutions, a thorough knowledge of domestic, and foreign politics, so far as may affect us, dili gence and activity in business, and an irreproachably moral character, (traits which have been suggested as indispensable in a chief magistrate,) should most undoubtedly, be united the sagacity to descern, and the firm ness and zeal to pursue, that policy which shall conduct the nation to its destined elevation and public services are not to be put out of the question; they are, indeed, sine qua nons; but they are not alone sufficient qualifications for the high office under consideration. 11 To delineate genius,” says a writer, “ one must feel its power.” Equally true it is, that to conduct a nation to greatness, its chief must be great; to bring into requisition all its energies and resources, and to exert and era , ploy them to the greatest possible ’ advantage, he must be possessed of no ordinary energies and resources of his own. A man of this descrip ' tion only would be able to “ direct ; the storm” of war to a successful and honourable issue; iuch alone, could perceive and occupy the true avenues to wealth and prosterity, in peace. A man may be a gallant and in trepid soldier or seaman; he may nail the ensign of his country to the | staff or the mast, and defend it at the • hazard of his life ; he may train his men with exactness, and manage ’ with adroitness and skill his regiment or his ship ; but these would be no proofs that he had the requisite ca pacity for commander in chief either |of an army or of a fleet. He would, * most certainly, be an able and effici- ent subaltern ; but, without other and higher qualifications, he would as certainly, be miserably deficient in the essential constituents of a great commander. So, also, a man may be a pure and undeviating patriot and a faithful, active, and eloquent legislator, yet, advance him to the head of a department, and, possessing no higher attributes than is necessa ry for the due performance of the du ties required in his former station if he do not betray incompetency, his management will at least show tha* the extent of his capacity has been fully reached, and that he is totally destitute of that intuitive perception so indispensable to the discreet and able discharge of the duties attendant upon his new office. But, place this man at the head of the republic, and though it might, by the wisdom’of its legislators, be kept in tranquility, it could not escape degradation both at home and abroad. Suppose the policy at present pur sued were defective, and the adminis tration not so wise and economical as former administrations, (which isnei ther admitted nor believed,) what se curity have we that a wiser policy or better management would follow the elevation of the Reformation candi date ? A man who has never shone insubordinate stations, who has ne ver given indications of more than ordinary capacity, and who is allow ed to possess no “ conspicuous and commanding qualities,” is surely but illy calculated to mark out a new course, to travel an unexplored path, or to lead, without chart or to what some distempered fancies conceive to be happier and more fa voured, because unknown, regions, If we must go out of the way wbic experience and our most enlightens and virtuous statesmen have demon strated to be the true and only high road to a great and glorious destiny, let us follow some one who has evin ced a capacity to lead, and who would unite the confidence of the people in his own superior powers, that, to ensure success, he might bo able to wield the strength and ener gies of the country. But it cannot be denied that Mr. Crawford, of al! the candidates, is the least calculated to obtain such a result, were it even practicable ; and, in addition to the disgrace and ruin to the nation, which would be the inevitable conse quence of failure, his particular friends should consider the folly of placing him in a station which lie would be unable to occupy with cre dit either to himself or them; they should recall to mind that pithy say ing of Bacon —“ Men of weak abili ties in great stations are like little sta tues set on great bases, madethe less by their advancement.” It seems, however, by the confer sion of some of Mr. Crawford’s ad vacates, that his qualifications foi President of the United States, an not those for which he is to lx supported. It is for his promise, gratitude that he is upheld. He i not to forget his friends, but “ faith fully and zealously support their in terest and tharacter.” He is “it remember to whom he owes his ele vation, and not to countenance thi syren voice of amalgamationaivim of good feelings.” In other words Mr. Crawford is to bestow the harm andJis' cs on those, and those (inly! who contribute to his exaltation. All others, whatever name or character! however gifted with talents, or enl titled by thir patriotism, their virtl ues, or their public services to re! gard, are to be proscribed,and drive* from employment. lie must m/tforgm to whom he owes his elevation !M To such only will he be indebted! such alone, therefore, are to belli! favoured few, and these are to basl! in the sunshine of Presidential fa! vour! I The subject will be resumed. I LUCIUS. I In an English church-yard, tiifl following inscription is placed u f""B Joan Kitchen’s tombstone: I “ Here lyes Joan Kitchen, " lieu her glas " af ’P She kicked up her heels, and away she weni. ■ Errata. —ln the pic&e signed “A Kfl publican,” published on ttic lOlhin-iv® the following errors occurred: H In the alb line from the top in the column, Vead dreaded for “decided- ■ In tbe 7tH and Bth lines of the/Mj cohimri, for “ if the public feeling, if Ihe crisis of public feeling. ■ In the 24th line of the same com®™ for “ absolute,” rend obsolete . In the second line of the "H “course,” read cause. H| Wanted Immediate)/-* BY tlie subscriber, fix or eight sand Hoop Poles —for which* ral price will he given. . H James P. Maguire. | Opposite the H October 17 Notice. I ALL persons having demand the estate of Walter Leigh, ,* mond county, deceased, are req ' j* present them, properly auth for settlement, within the time P n . |r S by law, and those indebted to am . ■ * ' B. IL Warren. I October 17 19 ■