Newspaper Page Text
rosray.
FROM “FANNY."
ST TIT* o. BAlliTCK.
Yoons thought* hive moiic in them, lovo
And heppineei in their theme; (
And mneic wnnderein the wind
Th«t lolls s morning dre»m,
And there ere engelv rmcee been.
In childhood** frolic lionrr,
When life i» bat an April day
Of ■nn»bine tnd of ihowen.
There'a muaie in the foreet leaver,
When auinmer winds are therr,
And in the lauhg of forert arris
Thai braid their sonny hair.
The firsl wild bird that drink* the dew
From violet* in the apring,
Mas music in hia aong, and in
1 be fluttering of his wing.
There’s music in the dash of waves,
When the swift bark cleaves the foam—
There’s music heard upon her deck,
The mariner’s song of home,
When moon and alar-beam* smiling meet
At midnight on theses j
And there iamoaic once a week
In Bcodder** balcony.
Sul the muaie of young thoughts loo toon
la faint and dies away,
And from our morning dreams we wako
To curse the coining day.
And childhood’s frolic hours are brief,
And oft in after years
Their memory cornea to chill the heat
And dim the eyo with tears.
To-day the forest leaves are green,
They'll wither on the morrow—
And maiden’s laugh be chang’d eie long
To the widow’s wail of sorrow.
Come with the winter snows and ask,
Where are the forest birds ?
The anaweris a silent one,
More eloquent than words.
The moon light muaie of the waves,
In storms is heard no more,
When the living lightning mocks the wreck,
At midnight on the shore.
And the mariner's aong of home has ceased,
Hia conrseis on theses—
And music ceases, when it raina,
In Scudder’a balcony.
MXS3BLLJLHY.
FIRST IMPRESSION OF EUROPE.
WO. XV. BV N- P. WILMS
Hospital dee Invalides—Monument of Turren-
ne—Marshal .Yet/—Jl Polish lady in ttni-
form-Females masquerading in men’s clothes
Duel between the tons of George the IV.
and of Bonaparte—Gambling propensities of
the French.
The wonthcr slid holds worm and bright,as it
has been all the month, nnd the scarcely “ pro-
Mature white pantaloons” appeared yesterday
in the Tnilrrics. Tho Indies loosen their
“boas,” the silken greyhounds of Italy follow
their mistresses without shivering, the birds
ere noisy nnd gay in tho clipped trees—who
that hod known Fcdrunry in New England
would recognize him by surh ndescription?
I tiuik on indolent stroll with my friend Mr
Ysii B this morning to the Hospital des
Invalides, on liter other side of the river.—
Hein, not long since, wore twenty-five thou
sand old soldiers. There nre hut five thou-
•and now remaining, most of them hnva been
dismissed by tho I- urbnns. It is, of course,
ono of the moat interesting spots in France j
and of a pleasant day thero is no loungo where
• traveller rnn find an much mailer for thought,
with to much pleasure to the eyo. Wo rroa
•ed over by tho Pons Louis Quinte, nnd kept
along the bank of the river to ilia esplanade jn
front of the hospital. Thoro was novor n sof
ter sunshine, or a morn delicious tempered air (
and wo found the old veterans out of doors,
sitiing upon the cannon along tho rampart, or
halting about, with their wooden logs, under
the trees, the pictures of comfort and content
ment. The building itself, aa you know, is
very celebrated for it* gmodeur. The dome
of the'invalides rises upon the eye from all
parts of Paris, a perfect model of proportion
and beauty. It tvos thia which Bonaparte or-
dored to bo gilded, to divert the people from
thinking too much upon his defeat. It is a
living monument of the moat touching recol
lections of him now. Positively the blood
mounts, and the tears spring to the eyes of the
spectator as he stands a moment, and remem
bers what is nround him in that piano. To
see hia maimed followers creeping along the
corridors, clothed and fod hv the bounty he
left, in a place devoted to hie soldiers alone,
their old comrades about them, and all glow
ing with one feeling of devotion lo his memo-
fy, to speak to them, lo hear the' stories of
»' L’ Empereur"—it is belter than a thousand
histories to make one feel the glory of “the
greet captain.” The interior of the dome is
vast, and of a splendid style of architecture ;
and out from one of iia aides extends a superb
chapel, bung all around with the tattered flags
taken in his victories olone. Here the vete
rans of hia army worship, beneath the banners
for which they Tought. It is hardly appropri
ate, I should think, to adorn thus the church
of a." religion of peace but while there, at
least, we feel strangely certain, somehow,
that a is right and fil ing, nnd when, a* we
stood deciphering the half-eflfacgd insignia of
the different nations, the organ begso to peal,
there certainly was any thing but a jar between
this grand music, consecrated aa it is by reli<
glory. The anthem Beamed lo him!
The majestic. found* ware still rollmg
through the dome when we came to the mouo-
enenl of Tureuns. Here ia another comment
on the character of Bonaparte’s mind. There
was once a long inscription on this monument,
describing, in the fulsome style of an epitaph
the deeis ond virtue* of the distinguished man
who is buried beneath. The emperor remo
ved and replaced it by a small slab, graven
with llio single word Turenne You acknowl
edge lh« sublimity ol this as you stand before
it. Every thing is in keeping with its gran
deur. The lofty proportions and magnificence
of tho dome, the tangible trophies of glory,
nnd the maimed and venerable figures, kneel
ing about the altar, of those who helped to
win them, are circumstances that make that
eloquent word as articulate os if it was spoken
in Ihundpr. You feel that Napoleon’s spirit
might wnlk the piece, nnd read tho hearts of
thoNO who should visit it imoffended.
Wo passed on to tho library. !( is orna
mented with the portraits of all the generals
of Napoleon, save ono. Arty's ia not there.
It should, and will he, nt some time or other,
doubtless ; but I wonder that in a day when
such universal justice is done to the memory
of ibis brave ntun, so obvious, and it would
seem necessary a reparation, should not he
demanded. Great efforts have been making
of lam lo get his sentence publicly reversed,
hut though they deny his widow and children
nothing else, this melancholy and unavailing
saiisfaclinn is refused them. Ncy’u memory
little need* it, it is true. No visitor looks
about the gallery al the Invalides without com
menting feelingly on tho omission of his por-
trait; end probably no one of the sacred vhlo
fans who sit there reading their own deeds in
history, looks round on the laces of the old
lenders of whom it telle, without remembering
end feeling that the brightest name upon (ho
page is wanting. I would rutlier, if I tvero his
son, have the regret than tho justice.
We left the ho pilut, as all must leave it,
full of Napoleon. France is full of him. The
monuments an the hearts of the people are all
alive with his name anil glory. Disapprove
and dolracl from his reputation as you will,
(and as powerful minds, with apparent justice,
have done,) as long as human nature is what
it is, ns long ns power nnd loftiness of heart
hold their present empire over tho imagina
tion, Napoloon is immortnl.
Tho promenading world is amused just now
with the daily appearance in the Tuilertes of a
Polish lady, dressed in tho Polonois undress
uniform, docorated with tho order of distinc
tion given for bravery at Warsaw. She is r.ot
very beautiful, but she wears the handsome
military cep quite gallantly ; and her small feet
and full chest are truly captivating in boots
and a frogged coal. It is an exceedingly spir
ited, well chaructcred face, with a complexion
slightly roughened by her new habits. IJer
hair is cut short, and brushed up at the sides,
and sho certainly handles the little switch she
entries tvilh an air which eniroly forbids insult.
Sho is ordinarily seen lounging very idly
along between two Polytechnic boys, who
seem to have a great admiration for her. I
observe that the Polish generals touch their
hats very respectfully as she passes, but as
yet 1 have boen unable lo como al her precise
history.
By tho by, masquerading in men's clothes
is not at all uncommon in Puris. 1 have
sometimes socn two or tlireo women at a lime
dining at the restaurants in this way. No no
lice is token of it, and llm lady is perfectly
safe from insult, though every one that passes
may penetrate the disguise. It is common nt
the theatres, and ut the public balls still more
so. 1 have noticed repeatedly at the weekly
soir ees of a lady of high respectability, two
sisters in boy's clothes, who play duels upon
the piano for tho dance. The lady of the
house told mo they preferred it, lo avoid at-
tenlion, nnd the awkwardness of position na
tural lo their voraiion ia seemly. The tailors
tell me it is quite a branch of irsde.tnnking suits
for Indies of a similar taste. There is one
particularly, in the lieu Richelieu, who is fum
ed for his nice fits to the female figure. It is
remarkable, however, that instead of wearing
their new honors iheokly, there is no such tm
pertinent puppy as a femme deguisee. I saw
ono in a cafe, not long ogo, rup the garcon
very smarily over Ike lingers withe rattan, for
overrunning her cup; and they are sure to
shoulder you off the sidewalk, if you are at all
in the way.' I have soon several amutiag in
slancea of a probable quarrel in the street
ending in a gay bow, und a 11 pardon, ma
dame!”
There has heart a groat deal of excitement
here for the two past days on the result of a
gambling quarrel. An English gentleman, a
fine, gay, noble looking fellow, whom 1 have
often met al parlies, and admired for his stri
kingly winning and elegant manners, lost fifty
thousand franca on Thursday night at cards.
The Count St. Leon was the winner. . It ap-
pears that Hesse, the Englishman, had drank
freely before silling dm. p to play, and the next
morning his friend, who had bet upon the
game, persuaded him that there had been
some unfairness on the part of hia opponent—
He refused consequently tu pay the debt, ant)
charged the Frenchman, and another gentle
man who backqd him, with aeeepiiun. The
result woe a couple of challenges, which were
both accepted. Hesse fought the count on
Friday, and was dangerously wounded at the
firel fire. His’friend fought on Saturday,
(yesterday,) and ia reported to be dangerously
wounded. It is s little remarkable that both
tho losers are shot; and alill more remarkable,
that Hease should have been, as ho is well
known to be, a natural son of George the
Fourth; and Count imon, as was equally well
known, a natural son of Bonaparte I
Everybody gambles in Puris. I had no
idea that so desperate a vice should be ao uni
versal, and so little deprecated ae it is. The
ladies losing or winning money. Almost all
French women, who are too old to dance, play
at parties, and their daughters and husbands
watch the game aa unconcernedly as if they
wore turning over prints. I have seen English
ladies play, but with loss philosophy. They
do not lose their money gaily. It is • great
spoiler of beauty, the vexation of a loss. I
think I never could respect a woman upon
whose lace I had remarked the shade I often
see at an English card-table. It is certain
that vice walks abroad in Paris, in many «
shape that would seem, to an American eye,
to show the fiend too openly. I om not over
particular, I think, but I would ns soon expose
a child to the plague as give either son or
daughter a free rein for a year m Paris.
giotis associations, and the thrilling and un- gambling houses are aa open and as ordinary
controlled sense in my bosom of Napoleon's • reaort ae any public promenade, and one
may haunt them with aa little danger lo his
reputation. To dute (him six lo eight, gam
ble from eight to ten, go to u ball, and return
to gamble till morning, is as common a rou
tine, for married men and bachelors both, aa a
system of dress, and as little commented on
< sometimes stroll into %qard-rnom at a party.
But! cannot get accustomed to ibo sight of
van's Leap.—On the 25th of April, 1792
Benjamin Ulin left the Stockade, above Ihe
mouth of Kenhawa river, (now Point Pleas
ant, Virginia )«nd crossing the Konhawn, he
followed a path that Ind up to a point, to the
top of a hill about half a mile below the Ken.
Ittvwu, in pursuit of a stray horse. As lie ap
proached the hill ho was seen by three Indi
ans, then on the top, who carefully concealed
themselves, and lay in ambush, until lie reach
ed the top; when two of them who had nrms,
tired at him. One of their balls passed thro’
his clothes, and touched, but did not bury it
self in his right hip; the other missed him.
Finding their fire had been ineffectual, they
separated, two of them running and occupy
ing the only pusses, by which ho could reas
cend Ihe hill, in the direction of the Stockade,
nnd (lie other made at him. Thus surroun
ded, , e was left with no other alternative but
to fall into their hands a prisoner, or leap
down o high precipice of rocks on Ihe North
side of the hill, fronting (he Ohio River.' Ac
quainted with many of the Indians and know
ing their feeling towards him, he was satisfied
that a certain, if not a lingering death awaited
him. In litis awful predicament, ho stood
pondering over his melancholy condition,
without arms to defend himself; until Ihe In
dian had come nearly up to him; when he
summoned up resolution, and commenced a
rapid retreat towards the brink of the preci
pice, hotly, pursued by the Indian—arrived
there he did not hesitate, but leaped down the
precipice, passing through the top hranrhes of
a small Buckeye tree, ho jumped sixty five
and a half feet before he touched the ground;
recovering as soon as possible, he made three
other leaps, the first seventeen the second
seven, and the third eleven feet, which took
him down nearly to Ihe base of tho hill. He
then ran lo the Ohio river, plunged into Ihe
water, und undertook to swim across, but find
ing Ihe water very cold, and that the Indians
had not pursued him he returned to the shore,
ran up the beach, recrossod Kenhawa, in a
small esnoo, and soon arrived ut the Stockade.
The distance of each leap was measured by
the late Cal. Lewie, of Virginia, nnd Col.
Boon, of Missouri, who were at Ihe Stockade
nt tho time. From Ihe fall of the leaves in au
tumn, to their budding in the spring, the preci
pice enn bo seen by boatmen descending the
Ohio River, from a great distance: and ever
since that occurrence, it has received from
thum, the appellation of “IJLIN’S LEAP.”
Notwithstanding the extraordinary efforts he
made, after leaping down (he precipice, and
which enabled him to effect his escupo, they
were not made without considerable injury ;'
far some lime his life was dispaired of—but
he finally recovered. He,.ia now a rospectabln
citizen of Greenup County, Ky. He is sixty-
five years of age; he is koon, active, and
sprightly—mirthful, jolly and gay. He enjoys
perfect good health, save some occasional
paiua in his back and hips, whirh he thinks
results from Ihe injuries lie received, when he
leaped down the precipice of rock*. After
the trealy of 1795, it wan ascertained from
some of the Indians, who came into Point
Pleasant und mingled with the white*, that
story hud been-in vague among them, end ex
tensivoly behoved in on the auihoriiv of those
who chared Ultn. “ That they had fired on a
While man,who ran to the top of u high preci
pice of rocks, wlterehe took wings and flew off.”
two bands, as if ashamed to have it soen, the
tears made their way between her pretty
fingers.
Come—come,” said the holy father, “ Ibis
must not bo. I must interrogate you. What
ih it that thus troubles you ? (lave you done
any thing to injure or offend your good pa
rents f”
“ Worse, father.”
“ Have you been reading in wicked books 1”
“ I’ve not been reading at all father.”
“ Did you play ot laugh, last Sunday, du
ring service J”
“ A great deal worse, father.”
Tho good priest began seriously to he
alarmed; yet he did not know how to frame
his questions so as to avoid a suggestion,which
(if he should prove wrong in his suspicions)
might render Ihe remedy more mischievous
than the disease.
At last, the young beauty, as if by desper
ate effort, relieved him from his embarrass
ment. “ Falhor,” said site, with a trembling
and half-suppressed voice, “ I will tell you
all, if Heaven will give mo strength to apeak.
But, pray, be indulgent, good father. It was
Ihe first lime—and I’m sure 1 never thought
that so much harm would come of it. Be
sides, it was net all my own fault—it was part
ly hi*. And he is so very handsome loo”—
[The good priest trembled.] “ And so fond
of me—he used to follow mo about wherever
I went—ho seemed to think and care about
nobody but.”—[ She paused u moment,—then
continued.]—“ Well, father, one night, after
I had retired lo rest, I—would you bolieve
it?—1 found him in my chamber.”—[The ho
ly father groaned aloud.]—“ I never could
tell bow he got there—for I shut the door after
me, and fastened it carefully, as I always do.”
“ Well,” exclaimed tho confessor, in an
anxious tone, “ what more I”
Oh, “ father! the worst is to come. That night,
in particular—it was last Thursday, father—
he looked so very handsome, and aeemod so
very fond of me—and—that—in short—”
’ But,” exclaimed the pious priest, with a
sudden shew of indignation, “ did your moth
er never warn you of the terrible danger of
such conduct 1 Did she never tell you the
fatal consequences of—”
* No, father,” (interrupted the terrified
penitent,) *' she never told me there was any
thing wrong in being fond of such a vory beau
tiful cai—and——
“A cal!—was it a cat?”
“ Yes, father; a largo beautiful white Ango
la, that I was so wicked as to steal from Ihe
pastry-cook’s opposito where we live, and
have kept him concealed in my room ever
since.”
In nomine Patris el FiUiet Spirilus Sancti,
te absotvo, said the good priest, and never did
be pronounce the word* with a more full and
grutified feeling of pious satisfaction.
PROPOSALS
FOR THE
Southern Banner,
A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER PUBLISHED IN
THE TOWN OF ATHENS, GEORGIA.
ALBON CHASE AND ALFRED M. NISBET
EDITORS.
The Fair Penitent.—It was evening. The
last rays of the setting sun fell upon the rick
ly painted windows of tho abbey, ond threw a
“ dim religious light” upon the marble floor
boneatb, and the fretted pillars that rose on
all sides. A young female, dressed in virgin
while, advanced up the aisle, with slow and
irregular steps, her eyos timidly bent upon ihe
ground, and her lovely locks half-shading a
countenance in which health and innocence
seemed to vie with each other, which
should add most beauty to features,
Ihe form of which were beauty itself
She stopped for a moment es she reached
the open portal of Ihe chapel that formed a re
cess on one aide of the aisle, end then turned
into the recess, entered a Confessional, and
fell upon her knees.
What “ ignorant sin” could this sweet one
have committed, that required absolution at
Ihe hands of her holy father confessor!
We shall see.
Having first pronounced her accustomed
prayer with a timid voice, she seemed to gain
confidence by this act, and proceeded to re
late, first, her little acts of contumacy towards
her achool-mistrets, (for, though bordering on
womanhood, ahe had not yet left the Convent
School); then her little sins of actual com
mission; reserving Ihe gravest to Ihe lash
At length, though ahe bid evidently not con
cluded her confession ahe made a full stop,
as if reluctant to proceed farther.
“Come daughter,"exclaimed Ih egood priest,
“proceed; you must not permit a false pride
or delicacy to deter you from that full confea-
eioo without which absolution were vain.
What more I”
“I’m afraid to tell you, good father.”
The priest said something to encourage
her; but the pretty penitent still hesitated;
and as ahe covered her street face with he'
Varmount, Aprel 25, ateen 100 <$• 32.
Deer Misther Kurryer and Inktecrer,—I
f res iph you look priity sharp, ule find in this
elter a two-dolor Ktmtkle btl, whitch i waul
u to give lo Dokter Fhoster, to help him,
hotchol oald Deeken Ilunltnlun, for (akin up
hiz wife, kaize she was ridin in the stage a
Sabberday. 1 kno a good inmny ov these oald
square toed stiff rumps. I’ve got an everlns*
tin gruge agm some on urn—they’l du inny
thing under biven the minister tells um. Iph
he siz the boy—they’l tako up the divvlo un
Dokter Fhoster. Won un um tride to kui up
his shines with mo wonse, hut 1 waz a leotle
too wide awaik for him. Whin I go tu Yutvk,
1 hiv tu go sthak rite thriu Konnetty kutt—so
won Sabberday 1 waz rtdm threu Infield, oz
still az a kat krewls alter a mouse,—un just
uz I got rite aginsl the meetin house, out popl
oald Deekon Parsons, with a e-a-am book in
won hand, un a carnal big kain in tother. Hot
lo I siz ho,—yew wikkid kritter; don’t yew no
ils Sabberday 1 So 1 put oo a putty midlin
kind ov a long false, un told hint I waz gom
to see my ant Nabhy—may how, that morryd
Dekon Amartah Bige-low. Wal! siz he, De-
kon Bige-low or Dckon Bigel-bigh, you
kaol go no furdor not’ll arter sundown, kaise
imo Dekon, un square—i’m selekt man, un
keep that lavvern, un yew must go rite strale
thare, un stay awe day ; you kan get good in-
lirtainment fur man un beeat. 1 (old him I
waz plagy glad o’nl, for I waz pritty darn’d ni
half starvd, un ao waz Ihe oald mare; un the
onlyreizenl waz ridin Sabberday waz, kaize
1 hadn’t got a single hooter ov munny—but
see in be waz ao good, 1 told him I did’nt kare
ipb 1 stade awle ni'.o—go’s tu let the oald
mare gel kinder fill’d up, iph be had good hay
un otes. (I laid a most darnashun, atve fired
lyu—kaize 1 bad my trwosea pocket, stuft
chuck full or Amul's Kimtkles.) By the lord
harry if he did’nt roal up hiz ize—like a duk
in a thunder storm. What! siz he—yew haint
got no munny. Helt!—how dare you travvel
a Sabberday when you haint got no munnv tu
>ay tho fine—we don’t allow no boddy that
taint got no munny not tu travvel thrue this
toun not by no means not a Sabberday—ao
you better be joggin along—but don’t stop tu
my house—so I started, un when 1 got a little
out ov biz reach, I shook a roal ov Kimiiflea
at him. Thao, siz I, what du think ov that
oald snapslrings I He throw’d hiz big kain ar
ter me, ua holler'd—0! yew wikkid varmont!
iph 1 kou’d kitch yew i’do shaike yer gizzard
out. 1 laid the airing on tu the oald tnairo
uo that's the last I ever seo ov Deekon Par
sons. Noty beeny—I don’t never go ihrou
Harford ainae thoy had the grate Konvinshun,
last war time. 1 think it kinder amelia bad.
Yewer ioovio frind till ditb,
JOE STRICKLAND.
JY. F. Courier and Enquirer.
O N assuming the duties and responsibilities of the
publication of the Southern Banner, the Editwa
feel themselves bound by every sense of duty, both | 0
the former patrons of the Athenian, and those of thei,
friend, whose aid they confidently anticipate—in order
to retain thsone and merit the olner-to lay before them
a fair and candid, but auccinct eaposil ion of the prin
ciples by which they nr« to be governed and directed
in the prosecution of their arduous and responsible un
dertaking. They do not think it necessary at this 1sti
day—a day which is shedding its light and glory, with
such general and invigorating power over our whole
body politic, to enter elaborately and minutely into a
detail of their political views ana opinions. Indeed, to
do so, would be virtually offering an insult to the good
eenee of the community. To profeee the name of the
bteseed founder of our holy religion, is in itsclf a suffi
cient guarantee of the principles of the genuine chrir.
tint; so do they hold it only neceeeary to own and pro
fess the names of the three great apostles of correct
principles, in order to satisfy an cnlightenrd commu
nity of tho nature of their political faith, and the inert-’
table tendency of their future practice. Tho Southenf
Banner,then, will rest hereafter for support and patron
age, on the broad, firm, and immutable rock of Repub
licanism. All those pure and hallowed doctrines which
originally flashed upon the world from the pen of a
Jefferson—which have been cheriahed no handed down
to us by our venerated Ureui/erd, and t-'ulcsccd ao in
flexibly, and ao triumphantly practiced, in many res
pects, by our favorite Troup, will in it And a champion,
howover humble, yet of stern and uncompromising in-
causes will, they believe, tend to render the
Banner hereafter, (and they say it without intending
the least reflection on the course pursued by their wor
thy predecessor, the late proprietor of the Athenian,)
of more general interest and of greater value to tbo
party, than it has been of late, and none of which eecma
to them, so well calculated to produce this result, as
the opposition which will be shortly exerted, in thia
place, to their press, and to their principles. This idea
they do not deprecate, but rather cherish, knowing
that an honorable and literal opposition, will tend to stim
ulate them to the performance of their duty, whilst they
hope it will rally to their support, their friends, and the
friends of the party, for whose interest and prosperity
they are determined to devote every honorable exertion.
The editors have engaged among the r correspon
dents, several gentlemen of established Literary and
Political character, whose communications will hereaf
ter serve to enrich and adorn the columns of the
Southern Banner. And with regard to the other de
partments of the paper, they can but add, that their
beat exertions will be devoted to render them useful
and amusing to their patrons and readers.
Great promise* are, however, at best, but cheap
commodities, and of course they feel themselves bound
to say as little, and promise aa charily aa possible; but
in launching forth their little barque upon the-
stormy waves of public opinion, they must trust alone
to their ekillful pilotage for meriting, and winning for
it, moorings safe and snug in the hearts of their fellovt-
citizene.
CONDITIONS.
Tho Southern Banker it published every Tuesday
morning, nt Three Dollars per annum, payable in ad
vance, or Four Dollars after the expiration of thu year.
Advertisements inserted on the usual terms.
*.* Letters on the businese or the office, post paid,
addressed to the Editors, or to Aldon Chase, Proprio
lor, will bo promptly attended to.
Mens, March 23,1832.
PROSPECTUS
OE THE
GEORGIA GAZETTE,
A PArea TO E* roouiniD WEEKLY, AT ATHENS, GA.
I .*, issuing proposals for publishing a new paper in
this section of the country, reason and duly would
seem to combine, to invitefrotnue some exposition of
the circumstances which have urged us to the attempt,
as well as a brier outline of the principles by which wo
will be governed in our course. This task we pclform
cheerfully.
The population ol the Stele is rapidly increasing; her
system of Internal Improvement at its nascent period
of existence; her jurisdictional limits actually and pros
pectively extending; her chartered rights and Indian
relationships assuming new and deeply interesting as
pects; and her financial resources presenting to her
■one the appalling alternative ofoppreesion in future b*
burthensotne taxes, or bankruptcy without some salu
tary change in Iter representative apportionment, all
combine to render an additional Herald of iutelltgenco
to the present nutnbor altogether proper.
But these by no means constitute the whole cata
logue of inducements. Ours iapalpably a government
in experiment. The principles and terms upon whieh
it was baaed, were professedly novel, and by conse
quence it would bo fair to assert that they were not al
together understood. the progress of events has de
monstrated thia truth. .The cotiBtituliinalily of a na
tional Bank; a ayeteihjof Internal Improvement by
Congre*S; the power lo -tax foreign imports for tho
protection ofdomestic industry; in short Ihe whole fa
bric of implication, remains yet to undergo its final and
legitimate analysis. They are topics which must agt-
tale, and that deeply, every patriotic boiom in the con
federacy. To maintain the honor and rights of the
State under her constitutional reservation ; to remon
strate with promptitude and firmness of putpoae against
all infractions of the compact, and to preserre the
Union by enlightened discussion or rational compro
mise, according to the plan of Jefferson and Jackson,
shall be our constant aim. Our columns shall also
contain as far as practicable, important items of intel
ligence in the departments of morals, literature, .and
sotence. In our State politics it would be impossible
under our present impressions, to adopt the principles
of the Troup party in most of its measure*.
* CONDITIONS.
The Gcomia Gasstts will be Issued about the first
of July next, on a large super-royal sheet, with type
entirely new, and we (tope splendid, at $3 00 per. an
num, payable within six months after tho receipt of
the first number, or $4 00 if not paid within the year.
Advertisements will be inserted at the usual roles.
Athena, March 20.—13—
Other Georgia papers will bo pleased to insert the
above.
A countryman went to a celebrated dentist
lor relief, and never having encountered so
formidable a business before, he stood up and
opened, bis noble country mouth as wido as a
mill-door. The operator eyed hint, as if afraid
of being swallowed alive, and said, “ lYo al
ways stand outside, sir.”
Weekly Georgia Courier.
The encouragement, which the Courier has reretv-
ed from the Public, demands Cron) us an effort to in
crease its uaefolneaa tnd adaptation to the wants of its
rations. We are now publishing it Thrice a qreek,
he additional cost at ourown expensq; but there arc
ao many ortta friends badly situated in relation to
the facility of receiving it by the Mails, that we intend
to isane immediately a tVsettp Paper for those,.who
cannot, from Ibe cause mentioned, receive it but once
a week. This will be issued al a period in the week,
b*at suited to the up-country mails, and moat favora
ble for tbs tranamiaiion of the earliest intelligence to
ita country reader*. Weal presept think of Saturday
morning, ao as to embrace the transaction* of the
whole week, With all the new Advertisements. Its
contents will b* made up from tbs JVi-terrify paper,
and Dorn the DeUv after October next. It will thus
contain more intelligence of every kind, than ony other
in the State. In' addition to the above.
week!-
L-kly paper i
bold oortelre* bound to transmit, to its Patrons,
Slips containing ail the important intelligence during
the week, by the mail* first succeeding ita reception.
We ehall not postpone its commencement longer thin
the first of April neat.
{CP* Term* of the fTirth Courier, 04, if said in ad
vance—J5. if .