The independent press. (Eatonton [Ga.]) 1854-????, April 07, 1855, Image 1
l ™"' ,jj '- ■ .... T|*gr LJ
BY J. A. TURNER.}
VOLUME 11.
INDEPENDENT PRESS,
A Weekly Miscellaneous Journal,
IVIU-UIIED IN EaTONTU V. G\.. AT $2. I*KK ANNUM, IN
BY J . A. Tli U NER.
A "qiuirc will consist of ten lines, but every a<!-
Vertisement will be counted it square whether it
reaches ten lines or not.
Alt over ten lines and under twentv-one will be
rounted two squares—all over twenty lines and un
vler thirty-one, three spuares, «fee., Ate.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
PEK SQUARE OF TEN LINKS.
One insertion *1 00, and Fifty cents for each subse
quent continuance.
Advertisements sent without a specification of the
number of insertions, will be published till forbid,
and charged accordiiigly.
Busiuess or Professional Cards, per year, where they
do not exceed one square, - - slu ob
A liberal amt met will be made iritji those who wish
to a Jeer tie* by the year, e, wupyiny a specified space.
lA}inl *ldverliscmcnts .
Sales of Land and Negroes, by A ’m..nistrators,
Executors, or Gttardiaus. arc requireo by law to
be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between
the hours of It) in the forenoon and 3 in the after
noon, at the Court House in the County in which
the property is situated.
Notice of these sales must be given in a public
gazette 40 days previous to the day of sale.
Notices for the sale of personal property must be
given in like manner 10 days previous to sale day.
Notices to ttie debtors and creditors of un estate
must be published 40 days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court
of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must
be published two months.
Citations for letters of Administration, Guardian
ship. A must be published 3" days—for dismis
sion from Administration, monthly, six months —for
dismission from Guardianship, 40 days.
Kules for foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub
lished monthly, fur ft tr months—) for establishing
lost papers, tor the full space of three months—
for compelling titles from Executor.- or Administra
tors, where bond ha- been given by tlie deceased,
the full space of three months.
Publications will always be continued according
to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered, at the following
KATES:
Citations on letter- of Administration, &c. £2 75
da do. Di-mis-o-y from Admistrution, 4 50
do. do. do. Guardianship, 300
Leave to sell Land or Negroes, 4 00
Notice to Debtor- and Creditors. 3 00
Saiic- of personal property, ten days. 1 square. 1 50
s*ie of Land or Negroes by Executors, j:e., •* 500
E-trays, two weeks, 1 50
For a man advertising bis wife, (in advance,) 5 00
Announcing candidates, 5 00
Large letters and cuts will be charged by the
space they occupy.
Letters "it bu-iness must be Post paid to entitle
We have adopted the above rates from the
Miiic igeviile papers, by which we will be governed
i:u -a-es. Advertisers are requested to pay par
ticular attention t" these rates, and they can make
out what will be the cost of their advertisements as
teg' Joh M’orA- of tiU kinds dene
trith neatness and despatch.
Professional & business Carils.
Agency of the Bank ol Savannah.
* i’FLY AT MV OFFICE.
Ja::. Ist. 1865. J. A. TURNER.
.J()lL\ A. \\ RIGIIT.
RESIDENT DENTIST.
EATONTON, GA.
May 16, 1654.
S. W. BRYAN,
BOTANIC PHYSICIAN,
EATONTON, GA.
Office over Carter A Harvey*s store.
I take tli if, method of iiiluruniie my trior!-* nil J
the public generally, that 1 will pay particular
attention to the treatment of all chronic diseases,
ruch a-? Rheumatism, Dyspepsia, Liver complaint
and Dropsy ; also diseases peculiar to females. The
* ! w—s which has universally attended the Botanic
practice, in all chrome complaints, is its best rec
. , - on. b. W. BRA AN. M. D.
Reference TRY’ HIM
Eatonton, March 3rd, 1855.
DR. LA WHENCE.
I HAVE moved rnv office to the huildintr occu
pied as a dnii: store bv Messrs. GRAN BILL A
HARWELL, where 1 shall always be prepared to at
tend rirufessjona.l calls.
M. J. LAWRENCE, M. D.
Jan. 13th, 1855. 2 ts
W. A. DAVIS,
hi /•' ,*. v ' ,*. \ 0 S ** . * r.
’>**l
msl « »<* - at •
XWAU b ills made with him are coMalered Cash, and
pa ya>Ac when, called for with interest from date oj
April 18, 1854.
S. S. DESENBERRY, |
F*isauo*\\ut #,je tjmmMjo /;
'A'iT'K warrant t<* pltuise nil who wiiih the latent j
W style ot dress. Siioj> up stairs, over C. JJ.
I’eurson’s store.
April 18, 18.04.
1). I’EAIiSON, A ( 0..
WOULD Cull the attention of the public gen
erally to their Large stock of Dry Goods,
Fancy and Domestic, Groceries, Crockery, Hard
ware, &o. Their Goods are all new, having
been recently selected with great care in the
New York and Philadelphia markets. They Hatter
themselves they can give their customers as good
bargains as can be bought in middle Georgia. Al
so, call and examine our stock of ready-made Cloth
ing. We will endea-vour to lit all in garments and
in prices.
ADAMS & BROTHERS,
EJtTOJTTO.r, Cef.,
INVITE the attention of the citizens of Putnam
and the adjoining counties, to their large stock ol
dry goods and groceries,
confident that they can p’ease them in style, quality
and prices.
Special attention will he given to all orders.—
Cash paying customers willtindit decidedly to their
interest to give us a call.
April 18,1854.
NEW G OT) I)S
AT
&' KROTtIEBtS .
WE would bo pleased to exhibit, to the ladies
and gentlemen of Putnam and the adjoin
ing counties, our large stock of
FAIL ftttd WINTER DRESS GOOD;
complete in variety and style.
v ADAMS & BROTHERS;
Eatonton, Sept. 80,1854. ts
& <sltcliln |o«nut(:-i|cl)otcli to fitcratnre, aitii derail Hlkcllaiii).
professional N business <£urhs.
DA VIS & WALKED
EAToNTON, GA.
nt.ALI.Ls in Groceries. Tobacco. Cigars. Snuff
sdioe-. Hats. Drugs, Patent Medicines, Hard
Iloliow and V'ood ware. Cutlery, Powder and Shot,
( atidlvs. Saps, t rwkery, Fine Liquors and M ines,
and various otlierarticlcs. Cull and examine before
purchasing cl-o\vhere. lWguinu can be hud.
April Is, lst>4.
iiif (BAlßiO*
I TAKE this method of informing my friends
. that anv business of a professional nature left
in mv hands will meet with prompt attention.
Jau. 13th, 1655. 2-ts J. A. TEENER
hUl'J'g 1123.
DR. J. G. GIBSON
OFFERS his professional services to the people
of Putnam County. Office next door to Ad
am- A Brothers. Residence at the Parsonage, at
one or the other of which places lie will always
be found unless professionally engaged.
Jan. ‘2otli, 1655. 3—ts
iiorsE paixtTxg,
In its Various Brunches,
EXECUTED PROMPTLY AND WITH 7/ESPATCH.
, ;;; HAVING a number of hands in connection
Jti’ilL with me, 1 am prepared to do jobs not only
in Putnam but in the adjoining ce nities. Any com
mmiication from abroad will reach me through the
Post Office here. lam also prepared to execute pa
pering with neatness, and ongooiterms.
April, 16, 1654. JEFFERSON WRIGHT.
MARSHALL, MCKAt ITT & CO,
MANUFACTURERS OF
a CARRIAGES, ROCKAWAYS,
>)- HUG IRS. Two-licrse Wagons, &c.
EATONTON, GA.
1 VTE keep on hand articles »fthe above desevip
' V tion, fitted up in good style, ofditferent quali
ties. of our own manufacture, which we are wil
ling to -cli on reasonable terns, or any of them
will be made to order, and upen short notice.
Repairing will also be dene in the best and
most approved style, on reasoruble terms, and up
on short notice.
MARSHALL, MKAVITT & CO.
Eatonton, May 23, 1854.
MI L LI NK R Y
Agtit iDia-jusa ffiAaaiitaj,
lionnefs, Caps, JfliUincry and
fancy floods, Sir css Trimmings,
n*/ 'ought Collett's, Under-
Sleeves, Lace Veits , tie., &c.,
BY MRS. A. W. OSBORNE.
Rooms at SIDNEY PKUDDEN’S.
Jan 20, 1855. 3-ts i
DR. R. B. NISBET
/'AFFEKS his services to the people of I’utnani, in
V / the practice of Medicine and Surgery. Can
always be found at his office—at the old stand of
Branham, Lawrence & Adams —or at his house (the
late residence of Dr. R. Adams,) unless profession
ally engaged.
Jan. 20th, 1855. 3-ts
To My Friends in Eatonton and
Vicinity.
H AVING sold out my entire interest in the prac
tice of Medicine to Dr. R. B. Xisbct, 1 can
most cordially recommend him to the public as a
.-ale, prudent, and skillful physician. To those who
may be. influenced by me, 1 will state that my ser
vices can be had in conjuction with his, at any time,
free of extra charge. ROBERT ADAMS.
Jan. 20, 1854. ' 3-ts
DR. J. R. GODKIN,
H AVING located himself, permanently, at Mrs.
Turner’s, Putnam County, again offers his
services to the citizens in tha‘ vicinity.
Putnam Cos., Jan. Ist, 1655. I—tr
DR. BRANHAM.
\T the earnest request of many of my old
Friends and patrons I have determined to re
main in Eatonton and continue the Practice of Med
icine. I offer my services to the citizens of Eaton
ton and Putnam county, and will uttem faithfully
to my Profession. J will give special attention to
obstetrical cases, and the diseases of women and
children. Having had many years experience in
the practice, 1 hope to get my share of patron
age. My office i- in the house occupied by Win.
A. Reid*, Esq., as a law office. Calls left there, or
at mv residence will be attended to.
JOEL BRANHAM.
Jan. 13th, 1855. 2—ts
"new siring goods.
11l lll) & IKJKGKRFORD,
MONTICELLO, GA.,
1) F.SPECTI'TLLY inform their patrons and the
public that they are now receiving from New
York, their lirst shipment of New Goods, (to which
large additions will be made weekly,) and are
prepared to exhibit an unrivalled stock in every
department of rich and Fashionable Goods, adapted
to the wants of the whole community. All of
which are offered at low price*.
March sth, 1855. 10—8 t
EATONTON HOTEL.
HAVING taken charge off he above hotel with a
L determination to make it meofthe best hou
ses in the country, 1 announce to my friends and
the public generally that they may always Hud
with me such accommodations us are’ desired by the
boarding ami traveling community. All that con
venience or comfort can suggest at the table or by
way cf lodging shall be furnished you at moderate
terms, ami 1 warrant that no man shall go awuv
dissatisfied. Good lodging, attentive servants and
a good table shaH always greet you with u cordial
welcome to the Eatonton Hotel*
Jan. Ist, 1855 [O7 tf] WM. O’BRIEN.
LUMBER, LUMBER! -
WK are prepared to furnish Lumber at the rc
gulai market price, to \>ii,; One dollar per
hundred leet. I- or extra lumber \t <■ will charge one
dollar twenty-five cents. Iu no imtoncc will we un
dertake bills it they are to be refused because not
sawed by a specified time We will saw as fast as
we can, and saw the bills.m the order in which
they come in-flrstcome first served. We frequent
ly lull m getting ears to take lumber off, and so.ne
t ines after we have loaded the ears thev stand on
the turn-out four or live days. Wo w ni clo our see
Atsf to execute all orders sent to us promptly uudf
faithtully, and we respectfully and eorifbleidiullv
solicit a continuance of the ve'ry liberal patronage
we are now enjoying. Persons living i. PuHmm
will please pay postage on letters to us and nut them
*^'2SBX tnm * Co - WhM^
Jan. 27, 1855. . .
4-ly
I
Ilj atonton Jl^uctovy.
A % P oH : ons indebted t» the Eatonton Man
fA; bvlmtefr olnplU f y ’ P revi V n » f° »he Year
18. m, by note or account, are uot : Hed that ut'iless
they make payment before last return duv te, March
superior Court, they will be indiscriminately sS,
Feb, Brd, 1855, *' AgT.
EATONTON, GA., SATURDAY, APRIL 7, 1855.
'|li)ctrii.
The Winds of March.
BY FITZ GREENE HALI.ECK.
The winds of March are bumming
Their parting song, tlieir parting song,
And Summer skies are coming,
And days grow long, and days grow long.
I watch, but not in gladness,
Our garden tree, our garden tree;
It buds, in sober sadness,
Too soon for me, too soon for me.
My second winter’s over,
Alas! and I—alas ! and 1
Have no accepted lover:
Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me why.
’Tis not asleep or idle
That love lias been, that love has been:
For many a happy bridal
The year lias seen, the year has seen;
I’ve done a bridesmaid’s duty,
At three or four, at three or four ;
My best bouquet bad beauty,
It's donor more, it’s donor more.
My second winter’s over,
Alas! and I—alas! aud I
Have no accepted lover:
Don’t ask me why, don't ask me why.
Ilis flowers my bosom shaded
One sunny day, one sunny day ;
The next they fled and faded,
Beau and bouquet, beau and bouquet.
In vain, at ball and parties,
I’ve thrown my net, I've thrown my net;
This waltzing, watching heart is
Unehosen yet, unchosen yet.
My second winter’s over,
Alas! and I—alas! and I
Have no accepted lover:
Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me why.
They tell me there’s no hurry,
For Hymen’s ring, for Hymen’s ring;
And I’m too young to marry:
’Tis no such thing, ’tis no such thing.
The next spring tides will dash on,
My eighteenth year, my eighteenth year;
It puts me in a passion,
Oh dear, oh dear! oh dear, oh dear!
My second winter’s over,
Alas I and I—alas! aud I
Have no accepted lover :
Don't ask me why, don't ask me why.
|Ris«llattmis.
A Blind Girl Feeling for a Sunbeam.
In the annexed extract there is some
thing beautiful, touching, and exquis
itely sorrowful:
The sun has just burst through the
clouds and a heavy golden beam comes'
in at our window. How bright and
cheerful! It comes in so silently ; yet
it speaks to the heart. Ages on ages
it has illuminated and gladdened the
world, yet we hardly think of the
great world of light and beauty.
Writing of sunshine brings to mind
a touching incident which came under
our observation as we were traveling
in the cars. Opposite us were seated
a family of four, consisting of a man
and his wife and two little children—
twins, and totally blind. Two love
lier children we neversaw. The fam
ily were from the south. A southern
sun had tinged each cheek a rich olive
complexion, relieved by a beautiful
bloom*upon the children’s countenan
ces. The boy was lightly built, had
fine features, and hair of a dark brown,
clustering in rich curls around his
neck. The girl was yet more slender,
as fragile as the leaf, and of the most
spiritualized beauty. Her hair was
black as night, its heavy, glossy tresses
confined bvagolden b ind, which glit
tered brightly upon the dark ground.
They both seemed happy, conversing
with an intelligence beyond their
years.
The train stopped for a moment upon
the route. The windows were all
raised, and the children leaning out as
if to see. The little girl heaved a long
sigh, arid leaned back in the seat ex
claiming, “0 mother, I. cannot see any
thing!” A tear trembled in her eye,
and her voice was so sad and low, that it
went to the heart of every passenger
who heard the beautiful but unfortunate
creature. “Neither can I see, Bel
but I know every thing is beautiful,
said her brother, as the light winds
lifted the thin locks upon his cheeks.
“ You are beautiful, are you not,
Bell?”
Just then a flood of sunshine gush
ed from the white clouds in the west
like a flash, and fell full and warm
upon the cheek of the sad girl, and
upon the tears in her eyes. Quick as
thought she put up her hand, and at
tempted to grasp the golden pencils
that were playing through the thick
braids upon her neck and cheek.
Eagerly she shut her hand upon vacan
cy, and a shadow fell upon her coun
tenance as she failed to touch the sun
shine. “Mother, I can not feel it ;
has it fled out of the window ?’■
“What, Bell?” said her brother.
“The sunshine, Marion, it touches my
cheek, but I can not feel it.”
The mother’s eyes swam in tears,
as did those of nearly all in the car.
A blind gfi-l feeling lor a sunbeam.on
her cheek! That beam was radiant
| with beauty, yet she could not be
] hold it. It gleamed upon a world, but
| all was night to her. Its silver burst
| ing in the east, or its golden fading in
i the west, followed as day followed
[ day ; but it burst not upon her vision
j nor faded at decline of day. It glow
ied in the sky, upon forest, field, and
flower, and lake, and river; but not
in the blue orbs of the sightless girl.
Fencing Railways.
The State of Illinois is the first
which has adopted measures to fence
in all railroads, in order to prevent
cattle straying on the track. This we
recommended years ago. We hope every
State in our Union will soon follow in the
so (tsteps of Illinois. The law passed
by the Legislature of that State pro
vides that every railway now in opera
tion, or which shall be hereafter placed
in operation, shall erect and maintain
good and sufficient fences on the sides
of their roads, with openings and gates
at the farm-crossings, sufficient to pre
vent cattle from getting on the road.
And when such fences and guards
are not erected and in good repair,
the Company shall be liable for dam
ages done by them to cattle which may
get on the track, but if the fences and
guards are erected and in good repair,
they shall not be held liable unless the
damage was wilfully done. Said fence
need not be built through unoccupied
lands lying at a greater distance than
five miles from any settlement. Any
person who shall lead, or ride, or drive
any stock upoa such road, except at
the crossings, or tear down the fences
or guard thereof, shall be liable to a
fine of not more than SIOO, and for all
damages sustained thereby.
[Scien tific A merican.
Assassinations in Corsica.
| Corsica must be a pleasant place to
live in, especially to a man who dis
agrees with his neighbors. A news-'
paper editor particularly would find
I himself at home, there—all the time.
The following is extracted from a
review of a book on Corsica, in the
last London Quarterly :
“Benevolent functionaries have ex
hausted in vain all ende,ivors' to pro
cure the reconciliation of families be
tween whom a blood-feud of centu
ries had existed. In one of these in
stances an amiable Prefect had suc
ceeded in bringing two together at a
festival. It went off to all appearance
well, but when the Prefect interroga
ted a patriarch of the village as to his
opinion of the result, the old man
shook his head. They met again in
the morning, and the old man’s face
was cheerful. Itappeared that a fray
had occurred on the return home of
the guests, and that a young man had
been shot, whose death exactly bal
anced an account of mutual homicide.
It has been found necessary to exempt
a family from taxes, because an order
had been issued by an influential ban
dit that no rents should be paid them.
This occurred in the town of Sartene,
where the municipality was also for
bidden to use as a town-h::ll a house
belonging to the Quilichini, the family
under ban. The authorities after full
discussion obeyed. A French writer,
from whom we learn some of these de
tails, records another occurrence in
which religious feeling plays its part,
for it must be borne in mind that the
Corsican is a sound and rigid Roman
Catholic. A priest had been detected
in betraying the confidence attached to
his function, and the honor of a fam
ily called for vengeance. The direct
assassination of a priest was however
not to be thought of. It was ascer
tained that his guilty rendezvous was
attained by a nocturnal ride along a
narrow mule-track on the edge of a
precipice. A mule was flayed, and
the fresh skin, with the inner surface
upwards, placed on a critical passage
of the track. The priest’s mule, as was
intended, lost its footing on the slip
pery snare, and rider and mule were
found dead together in the abyss be
low. Our author’s first greeting upon
landing on the quay of Bastia, was an
account of a recent murder. Two days
later in his morning walk on the ma
rine parade of that city was arrested
by the aspect of the guillotine. The
ghastly spectacle is explained in the
following dialogue:—
‘Who is to suffer?’
‘The Braccia inozzo. The man with
the lame arm. He is twenty-three
years of age. The Sbirri have taken
him in the mountains. He defended
himself like a devil. The broke his
arm for him. It has been cut off and
lie is well.
‘What has he done !’
‘Dio mio He has killed ten people.’
‘Ten human lives 1 and from what
motive?’
‘From capriccio.’
But this instance is not to be put
strictly to the account of the Vendet
ta. The young criminal, without an
injury to revenge, acted from the am
bition, which has led English appren
tices to emulate Machcatb and Jack
Sheppard. lie had admired a famous
bandit, and to qualify himself for sim
ilar eminence, committed a murder
and took to the macchio or bush. In
a state of society like that of Corsica,
the best qualities degenerate into the
worst vices. The Vendetta is closely
connected with the love of family,
which in the Corsican is only equalled
in intensity by that of country, and is
especially conspicuous in the fraternal
relation. The island poetry is for the
most part a dirge, a song of grief and
vengeance for one who has died of
violence. The words are usually, put
into the mouth of a sister, but even
the widow in the climax of her grief
often speaks of the departed as her
brother. These female minstrels, and
the female sex in general, have much
to answer for in fostering and exas
perating the spirit of relentless ven
geance. The widow hangs up in the
ancestral hall the clothes in which her
husband fell, that her children may
contemplate the rent of the knife or
the perforation of the ball in the
homespun brown cloth, or she sews a
strip of the blood-stained linen into
her son’s garment as a memento of
his duty to the dead. It is thus that
in Borneo the woman are the great
obstacles to the noble efforts of Sir
•Tames Brooke, and one of the best of
God’s messengers on earth, the Rev. Mr.
M’Dougall, for abolishing the strange
practice of head-hunting. The plea
of the young man, ‘How am I to get
a wife?’ is difficult to answer. The
most salutary operation of the Ven
detta occurs when two bandits, stand
ing under its relations to one another,
take to the macchio in the same dis
trict. The Scotch proverb, ‘Hawks
will not pick out hawks’ een,’ is then
reversed, and society is sometimes re
lived on the homcepathic principle,
similia similihus curantur.
Junius and Cliatterton.
A day or two since we noticed a lit
tle book from Red field’s press, entitled
Satire and the Satirists. As we then re
marked, the author has by no means
the highest critical power, though
there are many pages of instructive
discussion in the volume. We have
been much pleased with portions of
his strictures on Junius, notwithstand
ing we do not altogether agree with
him as to the rank to be conceded to
that illustrious name. We give*a few
passages below :
Much admiration belongs justly
to these elaborate Letters. Knowl
edge of the world is to my mind the
writer’s chief characteristic, rather
than wisdom or nobleness of view.
He knows how to produce effects;
and is a lord of manner, making his
bow, and planting his dagger-stroke
with extreme tact. Thus, when he
would bring himself into the king’s
presence, he would deliver his senti
ments ‘with dignity, but not without
respect.’ ‘Without intending an in
decent comparison,’says he, ‘I may ex
press my opinion, that the Bible and
Junius will be read when the com
mentaries of the Jesuits are forgotten.’
Certain ensigns ‘infest our streets and
dishonor our public places.’ In these
cases we see the artfulness of the man,
who studies to wound, with the air of
a superior being. In serving up slan
der and scandal, the same dramatic
dignity is preserved ; he would have
you believe that the mud he flings at
you fell from heaven. Tnis theatrical
side of the Junius character is very
curious and peculiar, and makes him
cut a figure half-Roman and half-
French, and look like the ghost of
Brutus uttering quotations from a lam
poon. But whether you agree with
him and respect him, or not, you will
find him an entertaining and brilliant
writer.
His best things are-said when he is
in his least stilted mood, and gives
loose to his free comic vein ; as when
he says of ,one man, ‘he has brought
infamy even on the name of Luttrel,
and exceeded his fathers most sanguine
expectations.’ Ilis best epigrams are
much in Sheridan’s manner; more
like those of Richard Brinsley than
any one I remember at this moment.
When he rises to high flights of rhet
oric, he preserves his good taste, and
successfully hits your sense of the lofty
and the exalted. But at no time has
he depth of feeling, much warmth of
heart, or humor, or tenderness, or gen
erally, the genial qualities of men like
Burke or Johnson, lie is essentially
an opposition writer, and probably
enjoyed the lashing of rogues and fools
to a degree which made him tolerant
of their existence. His form is as per
fect almost as Pope’s, and both have
been much imitated; but Junius’s
style, being the expression of qf pecu
liar disposition highly cultivated, can
not be well imitated. His followers
have aped the Roman “great manner,”
as the supernumeraries might manage
to ape Caesar in Shakspeare’s play.
Strange as it may seem, poor young
Chatterton* has imitated him as well
as any body; and that feat must be
ranked among the' astonishing evi
dences of natural talent he gave du
ring his brief and wonderful career.
He came up from Bristol in his eigh
teenth year, after having spent his
early youth in the most pure and senti
mental meditation on the old days—a
blessed haven to retireto, outofan atmos
phere of aldermen, blackguard school
fellows, patronising pewterers, and a
lawyer’s office ! He loved to lie on the
grass, and gaze on the old church, and
hear in fancy the vesper-bell ringing ;
or to muse upon old church-processions;
or to warm his imagination at the fire
of antique heraldic gold and gules. He
had shaped to himself, out of the dim
past, one ecclesiastic figurCr’which he
loved to endow with the qualities of
his own heart and genius; and he saw
in ‘Rowley’ embodied all that was
goo I and high-aspiring in himself;
embodied too in the old ckys, where
he liked to wander into—out of the
lawyer’s office. Ia an unlucky hour
he started up to London; plunged into
the vile atmosphere of anti-Bute, anti
king politics; joined in the destruc
tive element, fatal to peace and love,
the wretched business of fighting, for
which he was too young and too good.
He left the side of Rowley (who was
his good genius, the embodiment of
what was positive in his nature, as op
posed to his mere hate of cant and his
sense of satire;) wrote songs for
Vaux-hall, satires ala Churchill, let
ters ala Junius; adopted the talk of
coffee-houses, and courted the patron
age of Lord Mayors; and passed some
months in all that feverish element.
He grasped with his young hands at
the great fast-rolling vessel of London
public life; was too weak to hold on;
his grasp yielded, and broke; and he
sank forever, and was lost in the wa
ters. His ghost, with a laurel-crown,
looks out at us in history, pale and
sad.
*Born 1752, died 1770. All tlio “Lives” of
Cliatterton are indifferent enough. The best ac
count of his career is that prefixed to the Cam
bridge edition of some years since, in two vol
umes.
The English and the French.
BY WASHINGTON IRVING.
The French intellect is quick and
active. It flashes its way into a sub
ject with the rapidity of lightning;
seizes upon a remote conclusion with
a sudden bound’, and its deductions are
almost intuitive. The English intel
lect is less rapid, hut more persevering;
less sudden, but more sure in its de
ductions. The quickness arid mobili
ty of the French enables them to find
enjoyment in the mid;iplicity of sen
sations. Alley speak and act more from
immediate impressions than from re
flection and meditation. They are,
therefore, more social and communica
tive ; more fond of society, and of
places of public resort and amusement.
An Englishman is more reflective in
his hi bits. He lives in the world of
his own thoughts, and seems more self
existent and self-dependent. He loves
the quiet of his ownNjpartmerit; even
when abroad he in a manner makes a
little solitude around him by his si
lence and reserves; he qnoves about
shy and solitary, and as it were, but
toned up, body and soul.
The French are great optimists;
they seize upon every good as it flies,
and revel in the passing pleasure. The
Englishman is too apt to neglect the
present good, in preparing against the
possible evil. However adversities
may lower, let the sun shine but for a
moment, and forth shines the mercu
rial Frenchman, in holiday spirits, gay
as a butterfly, as though his sunshine
were perpetual: but let the sun beam
never so brightly, so that there be but
a cloud in the horizon, the wary Eng
lishman ventures forth distrustfully
with his umbrella in his hand.
A’lie Frenchman has a wonderful
facility at turning small things to ad
vantage. No one can be gay and lux
urious on smaller means; no one re
quires less expense to be happy. He
practices a kind of gilding in nis style
of living, and hammers out every
guinea into a golden-leaf. The Eng
lishman, on the contrary, is expen
sive in his habits, and expensive in his
enjoyments. He values every thing,
whether useful or ornamental, by what
it cost. He has no satisfaction in show
unless it be solid and complete. Every
thing goes with him by the square
foot. Whatever display lie makes, the
depth is sure to equal the surface.
The Frenchman’s habitation, like
himself, is open, cheerful, bustling, and
noisy. He lives in a part of a great
hotel, with wide portals, paved court,
a spacious dirty staircase, and a family
on every floor. All is clatter and chat
ter. He is good-humored and talkative
with hisservants,sociable with hisneigh
bors, and complaisant to all the world.
Anybody has access to him a'nd his
apartments; his very bedroom is open
to visitors, whatever may be its state
of confusion ; and all this is not from
any peculiar hospitable feeling, but
from that communicative habit which
predominates over his character.
The Englishman, on the contrary,
ensconces himself in a snug brick
mansion, which he has all to himself;
locks the front door; puts broken bot
tles along the walls, and spring-guns
and man-traps in his gardens ; shrouds
himself with trees and window-cur
tains ; exults in his quiet and.privacy,
and seems disposed to keep out noise,
daylight arid company. His house,
like himself, has a reserved, inhospita
ble exterior ; yet who ever gains ad
mittance is apt to find a warm .fireside
within.
The French excel in wit; the Eng
lish in humor, the French have gayer
j rmcr bb«. sms 9
l $ 2 - 00 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE.
.NUMBER 14.
fancy, the English richer imaginations.
The former are full of sensibility, easi
ly moved, and proned to sudden and
great excitement; but their excite
ment is not durable ; the English are
more phlegmatic; not so readily af
fected; but capable of being aroused
to great enthusiasm. The faults of
these opposite temperaments are, that
the vivacity of the French is apt to
sparkle up and be frothy, the gravity
of the English to settle down and
grow muddy. When the two char
acters can be mixed in a medium, the
h rench kept from effervescence and
the English from stagnation, both will
be found excellent.
This contrast of character may also
be noticed in the great concerns of the
two nations. The ardent Frenchman
is all for military renown • fights for
glory, that is to say, for success in arms.
For, provided the national flag be
victorious, he cares little about the ex
pense, the injustice, or the inutility of
the war. It is wonderful how the
poorest Frenchman will revel on a
triumphant bulletin; great victory is
meat- and drink to him ; and at the
sight of a military sovereign bringing
home captured standards, he throws
up his greasy cap in the air, and is
ready to jump out of his wooden shoes
for joy.
John Bull, on the contrary, is a rea
soning, considerate person. If he does
wrong, it is in the most reasonable way
imaginable, lie fights because the
good of the world requires it. lie is
a moral person, and makes war upon
his neighbor for the maintenance of
peace and good order, and sound prin
ciples. He is a money making person
age, and fights for the prosperity of
commerce and manufactures. Thus
the two nations have been fighting,
time out of mind, for glory and good.
The French, in pursuit of glory, have
had their capital twice taken; and
John, iu pursuit of good, has run him
self over head and ears in debt.
[ Wofert's Boost.
A French Editor’s Room.
A book has lately been published
is Paris called Paris in Little , from
which we extract the following de
j scription of the working office of a
' Paris editor ; it is not altogether un
like the room <T a New York editor :
The editor and writers generally
assemble in the morning. The first
business is to read all the daily and
foreign papers. These journals are
spread upon an immense green table.
They include the French, the English,
the German, the Spanish, the Italian,
the Asiatic, the African, and the
American papers. You must know
that a paper is made out of twenty
others, from which facts are gleaned,
and that the less the editor hrs in his
own box the more is cut from his co
ternporarics. Up to this time the as
sembly has enjoyed a certain far ni •
erte. Some are lying upon the divan,
others are making jokes, telling anec
dotes, or reading wondering circum
stances aloud. All are fond of smo
king, more or less. One, however,
armed with a gigantic pair of scissors,
begins to make immense gaps in the
Paris papers, the provincial papers,
and the foreign parers. Many of
these papers, when they fall from his
hands, may be compared with the old
flags of A usterlitz, pierced with balls.
And this deviation leads us to the de
scription of our first type, viz., the
cutter —this great machine in the of
fice of a journal. The cutter, as his
name imports, is charged with the du
ty of extracting from the mass of jour
nals all facts which appear to him to
be new or interesting. He is called a
pair of intellectual scissors. His duty
is to paste his extracts upon sheets of
paper. They appear as “ news of tho
day, ”or “ Paris news. ” The wafer—
that powerful contributor—plays an
important part in* his life. Others
write—he pastes. Le*: it not be imag
ined that the cutter is a man easily
found ; a good cutter is quite as rare as
a good tailor. It is a profession which
descends from father to son. Families
of cutters are said to trace their first
ancestral cutters to the conspira
cy of the Cxnq Mars. Do you imag
ine that it docs nA require much edit
cation to hit upon the exact fact of in
terest to the subscriber or the reader ?
Definition of the Sublime,
“ What, then, is the Sublime ? I
answer — It is'the Infinite revealing it
self in—not before, not after, but IN the
Annihilation of the Finite .”
The author of this definition is a
Mr. Goddard, who, in some lectures at
Boston, by which he attempts the an
nihilation of Milton, is revealing some
thing that most people prefer to con
ceal.
Poverty.
Few things in this world trouble
people more than poverty : and in
deed it is a sore affliction ; but like
all other “ills that flesh is heir
to ” it has its antidote, its reliable rem
edy. The judicious application of in
dustry, prudence and temperance.
The velocity of a musket ball is, on an
average, 1, 600 feet per second, and its
range half a male.