The Western Georgian. (Rome, Floyd County, Georgia) 1838-18??, March 31, 1838, Image 1

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wib ws'mii OMNUft JAMES A WRIGHT, Editor. •PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING BY SAiIIUEI. S- JACK Terms. ’ ‘Three Dollars per annum,in aix.months ar fouriDol *iara al the expiration of the year Subscribers living out of the State, will be expected.in all cases to,pay in advance. •No subscription received fur less than one iviless the money is paid in advance; and no paper will be discontinued until all arrearges are paid, ex cept at the option of the Publisher. Persons request ing a discontinuance.of lheir .Pqpers, are requested,to .bear in mind u settlement of their accounts. Aovertisements will be,insetted attlie.iisu.il rates; when the number of insertions is not tjpecilied, they will be continued until ordered out. KT All f .etters to the Editor or Publisher, on ■ matters connected with the esiabjjshnibiit, must be .Post Paid in order to secure attention. O” Notice of the sale of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, must,be pub lished sixty days previous to the day of sale. If J* The sale of Personal Properly, in like manner, .must be published forty days previous to the day of sale. Cjr' Notice ,to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate, iiuusl be published.rojiTY day 3. 1 O' Notice itluit .'Application will be made to the Court of Ordinary fur. Leave to sell.l/ind and Negroes, Inust be ptilihshtul fJuii Months. (17* Notice that Application will be made for Let ters of Adiiiiii'Htration, must bij ) piiblii , lied thirty days and Letters ol ’Dirt’ii sum, six .months. IT F‘»r'Advertising—Letters of Citation, $2 7;> to Debtors and Creditors, (-!■) days,) 3 25 Four Month Nirtrdes, 4 00 Sales of'PersonaLPropcrty by T' .ccuto’rs, 'Adminis 'trators or Guardiens.' ’9 25 Sales of Land-or Negroes by do. 475 Application for Letters ot Ifisiiiisi.'i.nj, , 150 Other Advertisements will be charged 75 cents •for every thirteen lines of small type, (or sp.-.<-e < qui vilent,) first insertion, and 50 cents lor each weekly contimi nice. If published every other wrek, l»?$ els. tor each coii.iiiu nice. It pubhsli, •' once a moiuli it will bu charged each time as a new advertisement, l or a single ms> rtton one Dollar per repute. »«**<-*•«*»*w»**Wb'Ar mA.- <•l'WMtkWN*’ ill I S 41 !•: !. L I N V. Zt.'/cn,) ihe SatA’iil'ty Cornier, ill EM; A SWINT QLAIR. BY j. t;. u :ur i:::;a. TT< nry Si. Clair'! I'fow nf flu men.io;. A" ■that name a thousand drisims of frit , h<(.ship, ami youth—and of this rally ami ‘beautiful tMtiociiiliomt which linger like invisible spirits arottml us, to In: called into view -only byl the maoie.il iiillmutre of memory, are awa ‘keued • I Imv does ithe gl.mee of ■rrtrospcc-' nion go back to the dim images of the past 'from the bampiet hall and the pleasant festi val, down to the silent unbroken solitude of , tl o tontb. \\Vo wvove as brothel's iu ehilllhorod —rSt. '('lait and myself,— brothers 100 in the Uuwn- . •mg of manhood; and a more ingenuous and liigli-mimlt d friend I miver knew. Yet he was strangely proud-r-not of the world's gifts wealth, i'aimly and lea ruing- but ol his' ■ iiitvllectnnl power—of the great gilt of 'mind which he possessed—4he anletH anil lofty spirit xv‘lmcli '*.ho\t"n out of his every action. And ho might well be proud of such gifts. 1 never knew a finer mind. It was as the em bodied spirit of poetry itself, the beautiful ■ liome<of high and glorious aspiration-!. Hebfy St. ('lair wes never nt heart a Chris tian. illeißcVtr enjoyed the visitations of that ‘pur-? -atYl blessed influence, which comes into the siltMHx; Mid .•loneliness of the human 4k)so4»i, ‘tot build up nneAv tbe broken altars of its faith, ntabrevive the drooping flowers of, 4ts deeolateH aflVctiotis. lie loved the works I of the great God with the love of an enthusi ast. Ikit'beyoml the visible and outward i forms —the passing magnificence of the hea wens-—the beauty and grandeur nf.the. earth, j nml the illittubabkwork! of V.-atets, his vision f never extended. 'His spirit never overlooked I the clouds which surrounded.it, u>.catch the 1 glimpse of the better Mid more’boanitful land. I need not tell the story of his youngxyears. I It has nothing to distinguish it from a thousand | .others. It is the brief and suiwty biography of one upon whose pathway the sunshine of 1 happiness rested, unshadowed by a passing cloud. We were happy in our friendship— but the time of manhood came; and we were I parted by our different interests, and by the < opposite tendency of circumstances peculiar t to'each other. lit was a night in autumn—a coM-starless • evening—l remember it with painful distinct , ne«s,..although year after year has mingled with eternity,—that 1 had occasion to pass in .my way* hatnawtacd, through one of the dar jkeat and loneliest alleys of any native city.— . anxious to reach my dwoUirg,.! was hurrying , eagerly forward, .whan* I smldenly * seised by (he arm; and a voice close in my ♦ car whispered hoarsely—‘Stop—nor you are a dead man'.’ . II turned I heafd ll»e cocking oi ta pwwi, .and saw by a faint gleam from a MwighboHog window-, the tall ligureef a man —one hand grasping my left arm, the other .foldinga weapon at niy breast' 1 know not what prompted me to resistance; I was unarmed, and altogether unacquain ted with the struggle of mortal jeoparday. But I did resist—and, one instant 1 saw my .assailant in the posture 1 have described, — the next, he was disarmed and writhing be .neath.me. It seemed as if an infant’s strength could have subdued him. ‘Wretch!’ I exclaimed, as I held his own .pistol to his bosom, ‘what is your object?— Are you a common midnight robber —or bear .you .aught of private malice towards Roger A listen ?’ ‘Allston!—Roger Allston’’ repeated :tbe wretch beneath me, in,a voice which sounded like a shriftk, as he struggled hall upright even against his threatening pistol. ‘Great God!’ has it come to this ? Hell has no pang like this meeting'! Shoot!—he exclaimed, and there was a dreadful earnestness in his man ner, which sent the diet blood of indignation .cold and ice dike upon m.y heart. ‘Shoot 1 you were once any friend —in mercy kill me!’ A horrible suspicion flashed over my mind. :I felt a sudden sickness —and the pistol .fell from my hand' ‘Whoever you may lie/sa.ii the robber, as with some difliculiy he regained his feet, ‘even /you have forgotten me. Even you refuse the only mercy man can render me—the mercy of death —of utter annihilation!’ Actuated by a sudden and half-defined im pulse, I caught hold of the stranger’s arm, and huriied him towards the light ol a street lamp. It fell full upon his ghastly and death .ike features, and on his attenuated form, and his tagged apparel. I’realhless and eagerly ‘I gazed upon him,.until ho trembled beneath the set ttliny. tl pressn! my hand against my brow for I fell my brain whirl like the com ing on of delirium. I could not be mistaken. The guilty wretch before me was the friend of my \outh —6uc whose-rnemony .1 had'Cher i.sh<il as the holiest legacy of the t pnst. 11 was Henry St. Glair! Yes—it was St. Clair but how changed since last we had com j niunion with each other! Whore was the I Io »k of intelligence, anti the visible -scat ol iiiicllect —thc ; tu <u'jty of person and mind ? Gone—and gone forct er to give place to the /foathsom-'nes.j of a depraved and brutal appe tite— to the vile tokens of a disgusting senst bi lit v apd :he deformity of disease. ‘■'Wei! may -you shiK-klcp,’’said St.<Clair, I i am.fit only for die companionship of demons; < but you cannot long be cursed by my pres ence. .1 have not tasted food for many days ; —dnmger drave.mc to attempt your .robbery —lbut,l| feel that lam a dying iu.nn. No hu man power can 4;ave me, —and if there lie a Goll, even’he cannot save me fnmi mysclf— from the undying horrors of remorse.” Shocked by his words, and still more by ' the increased ghastliness of his countenance, ! I led the wretched man to my dwelling, and, j after convening diitn to bed, and administer ing a cordial to his fevered lips, I ordered.a physician to be called. Bui it was too latc;- thc hand of death was upon him. He motion ed me to liis after the physician had d.qMfte'd; he strove to speak, but the words died upon ibis lips, He then drew from his bosom a letter addressed to myself. It was his lust effort. lleslarted half upright in his | )( . ( | —uttered on« groan of horror and mortal siidering, and sunk back, still and ghastly, ‘upon his pillow. lie was dead. I followed the remains of my unhappy •friend to the narrow place appointed for all the>h\ ing—the damp and cold churchiyard. I b-i’eathctl to.no one the secret of bis .name and his guilt. I left nio slumber with him. ! d how referred to the paper which had been j hooded me by the dying man. With a tretn i bling hand I bioke the seal ol lite envelope, atyd reiwl the lotlowing a’ddressed to.myself: “If this letter ever reaches you, do not seek to lin'd its unhappy writer, lie is beyond the •reach of your noble generosity—a guilty and j a dying uian. Tdo not se*k for life. ‘There j is nohope for my future existence —and death ; —dank, and terrible, and mysterious as it may ; seem, is'less to be dreaded than the awful re j alities with which I am surrounded. “1 have little str ngth to tell you the story lof my full. Let me be brief. You know we parted from each other. You know the I lofty hopes and the towering feelings of ambi -1 lion, which urged me from your society—from • ;tbe enjoyment of that friendship, the memory of which has ever since lingered like an up- • bnuling spirit, at my side' I arrived at my II place of destination; ami aided by the intro. ■ i ductory epistles of my family, I -was at once I i received into (he first and most fashionable i ' circles of the city. - i “I never posseted those principles ol vir- - j tue and moral. dignity, the effect of which j i has been so conspicuous in,your own charac- I ter. Amidst the flatteries and attentions of ■ I those around me, and in the exciting pursuit i of pleasure, the kindly voice of admonition • was unheard; and I became the gayest of f the gay; a leader in every scene of fashiona. i blc .’diisipiufop. The ptinciples of my new i companions were those of infidelity, and I r embraced them with .my .aylwlo soul. You know mv fonner disposition to doubt—that ; doubt was now changed into a settled unbelief VV i s <1 o in , J u s t i c c,- a ii d .Mode r’a l i on. ROXIE, FLOYD COUNTY, GEORGIA, MARCH 31, 1838. and a bitter 'hatred towards all which I had once been tauglrt to believe sacred and holy. “Yet amidst the beautiful principles which I had imbibed, one honorable fee'ling'Still linger ed in my bosom, like a beautiful angel in the companionship -of demons. There was one being, a young and lovdy creature, at whose shrine all the deep affections of my heart were poured out, in the sincerity of early love. She was indeed a beautiful girl—a being to bow down to and worship—pure and higli thoughted as the sainted ones of paradise, I but confiding and artless as a child. She_ possessed every advantage of outward beauty —ibut.it was not that which gathered about her, as with a spell, the hearts of all who knew her. It was the light of her beautiful mind, which lent the deep witching of soul to j her fine countenance flashing in her eye, and I playing like sunshine on her lip, and crossing hertfuiv fordhead with an intellectual halo. i “Allston! I look back to that spring-time of love even at this awful crisis of my des. ■ •tiny, with a strange feeling of joy. .It is the • only green spot in the wilderness of the past- j an oasis in the desert of being. She loved me, Allston—and a heart more precious than the gems of the east, was given up to a wretch unworthy of its slightest regard. “Hitherto pride rather than principle had i yet kept me above the lowest degradation ol j sensual indulgence. But for one fatal errorll j might have been united to the lovely being of | my affection; and oh ! if sinless purity anti j persuasive love could have had power over a ! mind darkened and perverted as my own, I 1 might have been reclaimed from the pathway • lof ruin—l might have been 'happy. i “But that fatal error came; and came-too, : ■ in the abhorrent shadoof loathsome drunken- I ncss- (shall never in time, or eternity for- ' ; get that scene; it is engraved on my memory Jin letters of fire. It comes up before me like j a terrible dream—but it is a dream of reality. It dashed from my flips the cup of happiness, and fixed forever the dark aspect of destiny. “I had been very gay, for there were hap py spirits around me; and 1 drank freely and fearless for the first time. There is some thing horrible in the first sensation of drun kenness. For relief I drank still deeper— and I was a drunkard,'! was delirious, I was happy. I left the inebriated assembly, and i directed my stops, not to my lodgings, but to the home of her whom 1 loved —nay, adored, above all.others. Judge of hor surprise and consternation when 'I entered'With a flushed countenance and unsteady tread! She was reading to hcraged parents, when with an id iot’s grimace 1 approached her. She started from her seat —one glance told her the fatal : truth; and she shrunk from me—aye, from ' ; me, to tvhom her vows were plighted, and hher young affections given—with fear, with , loathing, mid undisguised abhorrence. Irri tated at her conduct, I approached her ruddy, and snatched from her hand the book which she had been reading. I cast it into the •flames, which rose brightly from the hearth. It was ihe volume-which you call sacred. I saw the smoke of its consuming go upward ‘ like a sacrifice to the demon of intemperance, and there even there, by the Christian fire side, I cursed the book and its author. “The scenowhieh follows beggared descrip tion. The shriek of my betrothed—-her sin king down in a state of insensibility—-the i tears of maternal anguish-the horror depicted ■on the countenance of the old man-—all these throng even now confusedly over my memory. ’ 1 staggered to the door. The reception ,1 had met with, and the excitement thereby produced, had obviated in some measure the effect of intoxication; and reason began to assume its. empire. The full round moon was up in the heavens—and the stars—how fair, how beautiful they shown down at that hour! I had loved to look upon-the stars-those bright and best evidences of a holy and all-perva-. duig intelligence; but that, night their grand- , ear and exceeding purity came like-u curse to my weary vision. 1 could have seen those ‘ bbeautiful lights extinguished, and the dark aight-cloud sweeping over flic fair face of the sky, and have smiled -with grim satisfaction, for the change Yvould have been in unison, with my feelings. “Allston ! I have visited, in that tearless agony wich mocks ftt consolation, the grave lof my betrothed. She died of a broken heart. From that momer.r, all is dark, am! hateful, and loathsome in my his'ory. lam reduced to poverty,-! am bowing to disease-I am with out a friend. I have 4»o longer the-means of subsistence; and starvation may yet antici pate die fatal termination of she disease which is praying upon me.” Such is the tile of the onc< gifted and noble l' St. Clair. I Let (he awful lesson it teaches > sink deep in (he hearts of Uic young and ar i dent of spirit. r ;From the Saturday Evening Post' Th following narrative is communicated by I a valuable correspondent, and has the merit i es being in strict conformity to truth in its L jdetails. The story was related to the writer P; by those who were immediately engagedin the transactions it records, and .whose verac;- 1 ty and intelligence cannot be doubted. A F A T A L S I L V E R B U L L E T . A TRUE STORY OF THE REVOLUTION. Jn the surnmef and jiutumn of 1777, while Sir William Howe, with a fleet and part of the royal army were lying at New-York, Gen. Burgoine vvfth his army were advan cing from Canada towards Albany." The object and design of the enemy were to possess themselves of Luke Chainplain, with the whole of the Hudson, and thereby cut off all intercourse and cominunication be tween the Eastern and Southern States. For the purpose of watching the motions and an noy,ing the operations of the hostile armies, | General Washington had directed small bod ' ,‘es of troops to be stationed at Fish I\lill. Red hook, Greenbush, and several other places on the East side of the river, between New-York and Albany, with strict orders to take up and down the river, either by land or water, and if detected o r espoinagc, or employed in com municating information between the British armies, to be punished according to the rules of war. About the first of September, a pedestrian , passed northwestwardly, was hailed and stop ped by a sentinel ol the guard stationed at j Red-hook, and commanded by Capt. John j I Mansfield, of Connecticut. The man was ! about 30 .years of age, and clothed in the! Inhabit of a farmer. Lie .was.conducted to the guard house. Capt M. inquired of him his name, the place of his iresidenco, as well as that to which he was going, his business thare, | &c. He replied by giving a name, and sta lled that he belonged to the place below Red ’ hook, and was a farmer-that he was now on ! his way to the next town above, with a view: to purchase a pair of oxen from a ifarmcr of his acquaintance living there. ’He was asked whether he had about him any letter or other, communication from Lord. Howe, or any oth er British officer of New Y ork, addressed to j Gen. Burgoync, or any-officer in his army?, To .which ihe promptly answered in the ,nega tive. Capt. M. then told him that such were the orders of his superior officer that it bc ■ camc his duty to -search the person of every traveller under similar circumstances; to, which ho replied he had no objection to being searched- Capt. AL then ordered two or three .of the guard to take off his coat and examine pockets, folds, and every 7 other part critically. While this was doing, one of |he guard observed the prisoner lo pass his hand with a quick motion from 1 his vest pocket to i his mouth, and by the motion of hts chin i seemed to be swallowing something that “went I down rather hard,” as be expressed himself. | The-search however, continued and was fin j ished, without any discovery which would justify the farther detention of the prisoner. Captain HL was then informed of the-suspi cious circumstances noticdl by the guard. What was now to be done? Strong suspi cion had attached itself lo the stranger, but no positive proof had yet appeared against him. An expedient soon suggested itself to the ready thoughts of our Yankee Captain, lie observed to the prisoner, “we have de tained you on your journey for some length of time, and subjected you to a pretty strict : examination. I feel bound by the rules of I civility to treat you to a bowl of toddy,‘be fore you proceed on, and if you will drink with us you shall be made welcome.” 'The man was pleased with the invitation, and readily agreed io accept it. The Captain took upon himself the office of bar keeper., and soon prepared the toddy. To make it; genuine and answer the purpose for which he wanted it, he stirred in a good and sufficient • dose of emetic itartar- Our soldier being thirsty and somewhat fatigued with travelling,' drank very freely of the beverage, while the . Capt- and others present barely tasted and ; passed it round- > A free conversation soon commenced bc i tween the stranger and hiane.w acquaintances. He inquired of Capt. M. the number of men under his command, and at the different milita ry stations above Redhook, -whether they •were furnished ,with field pieces or. any,kind of cannon—what number of cen'.inels • were placed on the watch at a time—how often, and at what lime in the night they relieved. Ac. Ac. About 12 or 15 minutes after the toddy went round arid went down, our guest began Xo grow pale, and looked . .wild; “something,” said he, “is the matter xvith me—l feel very sick at my sirMnaco a.I at once ” He rose immediately from h.s seat and went out into the wood-yard, where a quantity of chips were lying, and soon began to evaouutc his stomach, tie was carefully watched by Capt. M. and several of the guard, and was seen by them to draw with his foot a parcel of the chips qvei-(he mat iter emitted from his stomach, before he re i turned into the house. M- diroctec a search to be made among the chips, where was soon found a silver ball of the size, ol ■* i small musket bullet, made by two pieces of - very thinly plated silver bent round and light iJv soldered together- Inclosed in this feta! Vol- I.—IVO 11- 1 bullet was found a letter, on a -sheet of silk paper signed by Lord Howe, addressed to Gen Burgoyne, giving information respecting the situation of the royal fleet and army at New York, and requesting advice from the Gene ral by'the bea-rer; vvfiat progress he was ma king with the army under his command to ward Albany; at which place rhe,hoped soon to meet him. But the deciphering and reading the letter presented another puzzle to the Yankee Captain. It,commenced in the words and figures following viz: “M 6 d2lr S3r, bO th2 c2lrlrv y 45 w3ll 124 m,” ,Ac. After a little examination and study, however, the dif ficulty was overcome. It was discovered that the arithmetical figures up to six inclusive were substituted for our vowels, thus, al, e2, i 3, 04, u 5, yG. The key being now found, immediately unlocked the -whole contents of the silver bullet. The bearer of course was ■ continued in custody, and a .court martial speedily formed, by whom, on the clearest evidence of guilt, the unfortunate prisoner was convicted, sentenced and executed. Convention of Scientific Men.J--We learn from the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, that at a.meeting of the Convention !of the Massachusetts Medical 'Society, on Wednesday, the 7th inst., some resolutions were introduced by D.r. J. .V. C. Smith, i<-- I commending that in view of the -splendid i achievmenisin science, resulting from the uni ted efforts of the learned, in Europe, a gen eral -national cqnvqntion of scientific.men, L< ! held at specified seasons, for the interchange of opinions, and for concentrating their la bor; believing that it would not rOnly tend to dcvclopc the resources o/ the new world, but would also advance the cause of human i happiness. iXIso that a committee should be appointed by the council, whose duty it s-hail be to propose to ail the .known literary and scientific societies.in the United States, to send : delegates, on some .specific day .the,ensuing autumn, to the most convenient and .central place in the Union, for the purpose of organi zing a national scientific association. And that the said committee be authorized to ex tend invitations to distinguished individuals in foreign countries, to encourage, by theii presence and co-qparafion. the great object • contemplated in the .establishment : pf this,im portant national institution.. Caleb Quotem. An -Ohio paper adver tises for a gcod practical printer, who would take the charge of the mechanical department of a printing office, read proof, .make selec tions, scribble a paragraph when necessary, rock the cradle, dig potatoes, cut wood, and go with, the gals to. sipging school, qnd.pcigli bqrTood quiltings- | We understand that a gentleman in a neigli boring town having taken a drop and a half of the celebrated -Matchless Sanative,, jdiscov eredbythe immortal Louis Gfion <G<?elicke, an<l of which one drop is a close for man, fell asleep iu bis chair anil the next mor ning there was nothing left but diis »boois. buttons anil breast-pin ? A lobedia .emetic was immediately administered lo (he;boots, and in less than half an hour the.gentleman was thrown up although considt>rably<deboli tated. One drop of Sanative (the regular dose) was then given him, the visrvotim waH xvory .soon restored, be ate seven,pounds of beef stake for dinner, and tiie next day .was a well man ! Those who doubt •this storv, if they will call on the gentleman, can have , ti e privilege of examining the boots. "Editorial Apology.—The editor of the Tuscarawas publishes th -.folloyving apolpgct |.ical notice: The absence of the editor for part of the week, is offered as an apology forfbcjvant !of originality in our columns- .Being,y;iga ' ged jn thratiiing out our ieiedt, to pay,our debts, we have no time to thrash a few case- I hardened politicians, who wan' O/jt i, badly. ■ ttorieSj Lui , not true. — A poor beg I trotter recently from life ixnerahl Isle, entered ; one of the coffee houses, and begged thorn to give Lima booe to gnaw; ‘for, sard be, ‘I have never cat a devil of <i bit ineat since 1 ! came from ould . I relaud, except a. roast pota ■ to, which I can show ye my baity, for’.lis n I my pocket. Cincinnati Scu;/: Irish' from Shakespear ;1- rishman complaining lo one of his employers that'bo had been slandered as fond of .whis key, added-“Th ire’s nauthen I’d punish,worst, nor defamation. He as stecls my , money, (that’s Shnkaper’) steels him as gms hold of my character, robs, me of w’iat’s no use io him at aiL and .what would, f . I do viddout it 7 ” £asy.-To live upon nothing and borrow, t/ia.' i ! Louisrille Times. f: —, — N< S'sense.~Twr> young ! other.