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“ The ferment of n free, is preferable to the torpor of a despotic, Government.”
■ --.J.L-MJP
VOfj. I.
ATHENS, GEORGIA, AUGUST 10, 1832.
NO. 21.
From Badger's Weekly Messenger.
LOVE,
Is like a garden, all fragrance and flowers,
Apparelled in roses and jesaamine bowers 7
Though gorgeous exotics reach proudly above,
Ob. sweeter limn all is the Lily of Love.
Do troubles come o’er us like clouds of the night,
To shade the mild heaven of peace and delight 7
How calmly,—how soothing, it beums from afar,
Undimmed by this tempest, Love’s beautiful nar.
When hope is forgotten,-when burden’d with care,
The heart is o’erwholmcd hi the sea of despair,—
How bold and undaunted it floats on the wave,
The barque of Affection,—to rescuo and save.
Pure, noble Affection,—a charm to allay,
The fever that wasteth tho spirit away,
A vision of gladness—its wo to destroy:
To lighten its sadness—to temper Us joy :
It fillcih creation—unbounded by earth,
Eternal its nature—immotlal its birth.
Ay: hark! Mia the chorus of Angel’s above,
Forever, and ever—Jelinah is f are!
——
Extract from Knowles’ new play—“ The Hunchback.”
TOWN AND COUNTRV.
Julia. This rural life of mine,
Enjoined me by an unknown father’s will,
|’ve led from infancy. Debarr’d from hope
Of change, I ne'er have sighed for change. The town
For mo was like tho inoon, fur any thought
I o’er should visit it—nor was I school’d
To think It half so fair.
Have your town palaces a hall like this 7
Couches so fragrant 7 alls so high adorned 7
Casements with such festoons, and such look out,
As these fair vistas have 7 Your Kings and Queens!
Sec me a May-day Queen I
I’m wedded to a country life I
Oh I did you hear what Master V\ alter says 7
Nine limes in ten the town’s a hollow thing,
\\ here what things ore is nought to wlmt they shew j
Whero moiit’s name laughs merit’s self to scorn ;
Where friendship and esteem, they ought to bo
The tenants of men’s hearts, lodge in their looks
And tongues alone.
Where folly taketh offhiscapand bells
Toclap on Wisdom, which must bear thejest ;
W icrc to pass current, you must seem the thing,
The pasiive thing, that others think, and not
Your Simple, honest, independent self.
JKtgrcUam
Tho extreme delicacy of mind and high
breeding indicated hy the following story, oun-
noi foil of rendering it acceptable to every tea-
tier—while the judicious hints it contains il
lustrate a style of domestic life that strongly
commends itself to nil lovers of home and
quiet hy its simplicity, elegance, and refine
ment.—Spirit of the Times.
THE MARRIED MAN’S STORY.
I had tho pleasure, a few days ago, to meet
unexpectedly a friend, from whom I was many
years separated. We had been mostly educa
ted together, having past our boyhood at the
same school, our youth at the same universi
ty ; but our fortunes were different. Ho, bom
to wetillh, left college to mix with tho world
at home and abroad; while I turned to tho
profession t had long since made choice of,
and began to lag my weary way towards inde
pendence.
Wo were both n good deal changed. My
friend li«d lost w'tcii of tho eav ^;,yaney of
manner, much of tho merry, happy, careless
SiJvv of spirits for which he had once been re
markable. I was less grave than I had been
reckoued during our former acquaintance:
yet I am n man of business and married. Wo
hud much to soy of different rhanens that had
occurred to us; und I found, that though al
tered in maimer, in habits, and in character,
wo met the samo to each other as wo had par
ted.
It was getting late in the day, and I asked
my friend if lie would go homo to tho small
house I occupied, mid dine quietly with my
wife and mo. He agreed instantly, shook
hands with me in his own lively way, as he
thanked roe for asking him, nnd we turned in
to the street in which I lived. I must own
I felt some little uneasiness at the thought of
introducing tny wife. I had oflen spoken of
him to her, oral I dreaded, lest she should not
find tho portrait faithful. In fact, I mistrusted
my own judgment till it should he confirmed
by hers; not that in words she would tell me
that we differed, but 1 knew loo well in look
and manner to bo deceived. 1 did not feel
quite easy either at the iden of pre-enting my
friend. Ills admiration would in no degree
oiler my sentiments town'Mt her: but I fell I
should be ill satisfied unless he thought her,
in the course of one short evening, nil I had
found her during the three happy vears of our #
union. My heart heal as I ran up the steps.
1 coloured as 1 pulled the bell. The doer
was opened by our only man servant, and I
myself ushered my friend up stairs.
My wifo was dressed with extreme neatness,
though she expected we wero to dine ulone;
and she was sitting, as usual, at her work ta
ble, when the sound of my stops upon the
stairs made her raise her head. She came for
ward to meet me; and when I named my
friend, she turned to welcome him with a grace
and gayely that mBde him sure of his recep-
tion. She placed him beside her on the sofa,
and I was soon at ense as to first impressions.
AVe hnd not far to go to dinner. The lower
part of the house being occupied by mv cham
bers of business, oor public room on the first
floor, and a atill smaller library opening out of
if. In this library we dined. The dinner
was ordered with neatness and taste, and ser
ved without display in an apartment simply
furnished. Mv wife is not one of those who,
to make parade upon occasions, lesson the
comforts of our every day life. She has nev
er, since we were murried, set before me a din
ner I might not have brought a friend to partake
of; nor has she ever appeared before me in a
dress she could not hove worn on occasions
of ceremony. Yet our expenses do not hy any
means, come up to nur limited income. It is
Iruo our wants are faw • but wo increase our
[usuries as we go on. We do not live in the
world, but we live much in society ; society
that we like, nnd that likes us and assimilates
with us. All this, and mnre, in tho warmth
of my heart, I told my friend over a bottle of
mv host wine, when my wife rose and loft;
and we were still upon the same theme when
we joined her again at the tea table. lie be
gan to rally us upon our way of life and he
tried to persuade her that, in former days, I
had played the inconstant among nur circle of
beauties, being fond to admire, and fickle fo
change. I saw that in his then mood it were
in vain for me to dispute his assertions
to divert the time, and, may be, to prevent my
wife from thinking of any other, I pleaded
guilty to one serious attachment, and offered
to tell my story.
“ Some years ago,” said I, “ when it first
became the fashion to take shooting quarters
in Ihe Highlands, I formed one of a large par
ty who had engaged an extensive trart of
moorland for the season. The gamekeeper
and the dogs were sent off early in July, and
it was settled we tvoro all to dine together at
tho fnrm house we rented with the ground,
upon the 10th of Augost. My friends agreed
to proceed northward in a body : but as I dis
like exceedingly travelling in that sort of com
pany, I declined forming one of it, and set out
by myself, some weeks before, on a tour
through a range of my native country 1 had
never yet seen.”
At this part of my story my wife laid down
her work, and looked up anxiously in my face :
I smiled and proceeded :—
“ Alter an interesting and somewhat fati
guing journey, 1 arrived early on the morning
of the 10th of August, at one ol the principal
towns of the north Highlands. It was mar-
ket-duy, and the streots were filled with crowds
of well-dressed people, throngiog in every di
rection. Several handsome equipages were
driving along the crowd, whilo gentlemen on
horseback and foot passengers picked their
way carefully through tho groups of country
people uod their wares, who stopped every reg
ular passage. I alighted at a very comfortable
inn, nnd having ordered some refreshment, I
set down very contentedly to took over a
newspaper which lay upon tho tablo of the
parlor 1 had been shown into, when chancing
to raise my head, my eyo fell upon a mirror,
which hung upon tlio opposite wall, between
Ihe portraits of General Washington and Mr.
Till, 1 was struck with horror at my own up-
peurunec. Hastily tinging for the waiter, 1
inquired whether there were any lmir-drcsscrs
in towu upon whom 1 might rely. 1 was told
1 was within a lew doors of the first artist in
iiiv C’.'uutry. A man don’t like to trust his
lieud to u bunglor; but the first step in Mr.
Blank’s shop convinced me that the waiter
lind mu hf-1-n wroll-J •'* his *'
were fixed nn mine. In another moment she
was gone. I drew my head in haslily, flung
my hands before my face, to cxdudo all light,
anil again in fancy, those beautifol eyes beam
ed brightly upon me. After a few minutes I
looked up. Crowds of gay passengers still
moved on the pavement below and talked, and
laughed, und looked as they passed me. Will
she come again ? .1 took out my watch : it
was only three o’clock. Again 1 glanced at
the projseiu.g wall, and I followed, eagerly,
each succeeding group, as they emerged from
behind it. Many a voice deceived me :.s it
approached. Many a parly turned the corner
to disappoint me. Four o’clock: she will not
come. I rose from the window in despair.—
As I stood, the sound of a voice I had heard
before arrested my etlenlioq. There was n
laugh, and a stamp, and u jingling noise, and
then the end of a sword scabbard pointed out
beyond the wall. It was the recruiting officer
Did he come ulone I The little child run for
ward ; the lady in gray pot out a fool; and
again the eyes from the pink bonnet sought the
window. We blushed crimson. The young
lady turned to her never failing resource, the
recruiting officer; I darted forward, seized
my hat, rushed down stairs, and followed her.
They had reached Ihe h nr dresser’s shop, und
stopped before it to examine some of the curi
ositios. The older Indy in gray look the little
child by tho hand and walked on. Tho young
lady prepared to follow her. but as she moved
away, she cast ono glance towards the window
of Ihe inn; it was quite deserted- I neither
stirred nor spoke; but I saw from her height
ened color she was aware who stood beside
her. She held a small nosegay iu her hand.
She began to pull to pieces the flowers which
composed it, and scatter the leaves upon the
pavement. A carriage was in wailing at the
end of the street; it drew up us the party ap
proached. A footman opened the door and let
down the steps, and the re-'ruiling officer Imn
ded the ladies into it. Me laid his arms upon
the door, and stood and talked for some
minutes. It was an open carriage; the
young lady was leaning thoughtfully against
the cushions. The officer talked longer; at
length ho bowed, and they drove away. I
had not been wrong o non
the operation was over, I surveyed myself
with much satisfaction in a hand glass, obli
gmgly held to mo for the purpose; but not
feeling myself at liberty to indulge my contem
plation so publicly, 1 returned us quickly as
possible to my hotel, to consult at leisure the
mirror which hung upon tho opposite wall be
tween tho portraits of General Washington
and Mr. Pitt- 1 was perfectly enchanted with
the good mien. 1 was cut aud curled in the
most becoming manner.
Here m> wife laughed aloud: my friend,
too, smiled ; but 1 took no nutice of their in
terruption.
“ The inn stood back from the street, in a
large court-yard, the projecting walls ol which
on each side prevented uny view boyond.—
Across this court-yard uumbers of people were
constantly passing. 1 sot down ut tho open
window of tny parlor to watch the vurious
groups thus flitting belorc me. One, in pur-
ttculur, ut once engaged my ullontion : it con
sisted ol un elderly lady in gray, a child in a
frock und irowsers, u young lutly iu white,
with piuk upou her bonnet, und a captain of a
recruiting company quartered in the town.—
He was apparently saying something extreme
ly amusing, lor the lady was laughing violent
ly ; aud broking up m her mirth, she threw on
me, us i sat perched ut my window, a pair of
the must beauitlul black eyes 1 had ever then
sceu. 1 fancy mine must have told her so,
for she hud not gone many steps before sbe
raised these eyes again. Again they met
mine, and this tunc, we both blushed- She
withdrew hers quickly, and turned to the re
cruiting officer: lie buwed as in the act of
speukiug.
The lady iu gray appeared to join in tho con-
veriutlon ; and they all walked leisurely on
towards the projecting wall. W ill she look
up ogam ! 1 pushed tny well curled head os
far us 1 could out of the window. She holds
hers 1 thought resolutely down. 1 followed
them with my eyes, us they Btepped along
across the pavement. They reached the wall.
The little child run quickly out of sight. The
lady in gray was hall concealed. The young
lady returned reply to aunio gallantry of the
rectuiiing officer, nod onco more her eyes
was standing before a druggist’s shop, suppor
ting myself on the brass railing that protected
As the carriage whirled rapidly past, I
ventured one last glance upon the pink bon
net. Site was still leaning back agumst the
cushions, and the remains oflicr nosegay were
beside her. As she passed she extended the
hand, whiter than snow, which held it, over
the, side of the open rarriage, pressed it for un
inslunl to her breast, her lips, and dropped it
gently til my feel. I started forward to re
ceive the precious gift—”
“ Oh don’t believe him,” cried my wife, in
terrupting me; “ it id ull a romance, it is in
deed ; I never looked—l never meant—I—’’
I interrupted her in my turn, and seizing tho
hand she had extended in the energy of the
moment, I pressed it, as site bad dune the
nosegay she gave ntc-
The following strange and mournful story is
in an ted fur lire Albion, from the
Mtrnnirif of a celebrated French woman :
Miss G lived with Lord Byron near
ly a year, pogo in the da}’, woman at night.—
Attentive, tender, and sincere in her love olid
attachment, she perhaps hoped that wedlock
might some day restore her to the world.—
This secretly-entertained illusion, combined
with a character naturally gay, completely
blinded this young lady to the real slate of
her case. She had left in London a father in
but middling circumstances, and to whom eve
ry fortnight she ufforded pecuniary assistance.
At length some indiscreet friend wrote to her
to say that this forsaken father, in a moment
of despair, had shot himself. Gould it bo the
consequence of his omburrnssed affairs, or on
urenun! of Ins dishonored daughter! Miss
G. unfortunately harbored thu lutler idea, bin
she said nothing to Lord Byron, who remark
ing that she now often uvoided Inin, und occu
pied herself in wrung, at length succeeded in
surprising her and discovered her secret.
Miss G ——— had determined to poison
herself,, and had written her declaration io
that effect, in order thut after her death no one
might be accused or implicated therein. Lore.*
Byron now causes her to bn watched,and Lov
ing possessed himself of the poisonous pow
der she had produced, substituted in its place
one completely of innocent nature. One eve
ning Miss G. affected moro than usual gaiety,
und pretended to sleep calmly by tire side of
her lover, who, being uwuro that she thought
that uhu hud swallowed that very day the
draught which was to consign her to the other
world, was hoping to laugh llm next morning
at her unexpected awakening after u sleep
which she fully expected to be her last. Lord
Byron, however, had no reason for indulging
in sleep himself; but what was hia anxiety and
distress of mind at dawn of morning, to be
uble no where to find Miss G —■ ! The
letter which announced her fatal determination
was upon the (able. Doubtless, thought Ins
lordship, convinced that the fatal fluid is circu
lating in her veins, she must have absented
herself to avoid shocking me with tho first
eight of her as a corpse—but she will return
restored even by her own attempt; and with
this hope Lord Dyron became more rompo-
«cd. Nevertheless, Miss G ■ returned
no more, and every possible inquiry proved
useless. It was mu till oiler Ihe lapse ol u
whole week that this misguided and unfortu
nate ludy was found, in the last agonies of
death, hi tho sepulchral tomb of the Byrona,
where she had shut herself in so ns to he quite
unable to get out again. What must have been
her anguish of mind during eight long days of
agony, suffering the tortures of hunger instead
of poison !
“ This melancholy catastrophe,” said Lord
Byron, “ has worked more upon my mind and
imagination than any of tho vain motives to
which persons have wished to attribroe the cu-
prico of my disposition ; my natural gaiety of
mind being dried up iu its fountain-spring, I
henceforward sought the reputation of an as
sumed gaiety to drive away intrusive melan
choly. You may now understand whence
arises the bitterness of my smile.”
A Test.—Wo have hoard n story ufu Cath
olic Priest, which is too good to ho lost. We
know not whether a has ever appeared in print
before or not.
A jolly friar who was to read a homily to a
congregation on a certain occasion, was, while
wailing for Ihe lime for him to officiate, play,
ing cards in an apartment adjoining tho Church
He stationed a lad at tho door to give him no-
lice when he was wanted—but at the moment
that he was called he had just “dealt.” His
own bund wus an excellent one and determin
ed not to lose it, lie ugreed with his comrades,
that ouch should keep his cards and continue
the game alter service. Clapping tho cards
up the sleeve of Ins surplice, ho walked into
the desk, holding the end of his sleeve with
his fingers.
11 is subject was the remissnesa of parents in
tho moral instruction of their children. As he
proceeded in Ins discourse ho waxed warm in
his gestures und motions—till forgetting the
deposit in his sleeva. lie struck the pnltns of
his open hands together, und out flow the spot
ted telltales, to the amazement of tho congre
gation.
All were disconcerted hut tho friar. Lean
ing over the desk ho called to u little urchin of
five or six, “ Boy pick up one of those rards!”
This done, the Priest demanded of the hid—
Now tell me what it is.” It’s the ten of
sputlcs,*aid tho boy. “ Behold hern parents,”
said the Priest, “ a proof of wlmt 1 have told
you. I scattered these among you to con
vince the congregation that these clnldrcti un.
derstood cards heller than their prayers I”—
Lou ell Compend.
Character ol Ihe Fly.—Imagine the cndcu.
vor to fume afly! It is obvious that there is
no gelling at him ; lie does not comprehend
you; lie knows nothing about you; it is doubt
ful, in spile of his large eyes,'whether he even
sees you, or at least to any purpose of recogni
tion. How capriciously and prevailingly he
glides hither and thither! Wlint angles and
diagrams he describes in his locomotion, seem
ingly without any purpose, lie will peg away
at vour sugar, hut stop him who cun when he
is done. Thumping (if you could get some
fairy slick that would do it with impunity)
would h-YC nr, "Seel on a creature who simll
bump his head half tho morning at a pane of
glass, ami never learn that there is no getting
through it. Solitary imprisonment would be
lust on the incompiehcusiblc little wretch, who
can stand still with as much perlinucily us he
cun hustle about, and will slick n whole day in
one posture. The best thing to be said of him
is, that he is fond of cleaning himself as a cat,
doing it much in tho same manner; nnd I hot
lie often mbs his Imnds together with nu ap
pearance of great energy nnd satisfaction.
jVcte Monthly Mag.
gteiftfttrl.
Mr. VOKSYTII’* ^PUlilll
Un Mr. Poindexter'a motion indefinitely to post•
pone the bill for reducing the duties on Imports.
Mr. President,—Tho Senator from Missis-
sippi w ill not give a vole from which his sanc
tion of this hill can ho implied, und hia motion
is made to prevent misconception us to the
motive which has governed his previous vote
on the question of indefinite postponement,
In-fore the highly objectionable amendments
of the Senate, rejected by the House of Re
presentatives, had been uhandoued here. In
tending to vole iu the negative nn this proposi
tion, tho remarks made by its uulhor, with
others of a similar character, which have fall
en Irom some ol the Southern Senators, make
it necessary for me to say a low words in ex
planation. I shall do so with tho brevity be
fitting this udvunced period of the session, and
lire late hour bf the night.
I prefer tho bill belbie you to the act of
1828. I vote for it, bncuusn it repeals that
act; proposes to reduce the rovenue to the
public wonts, relieves tho people from the
burthen of millions of taxation, and is an evi
dence of tho desire of those who believe in the
justice and policy of the protective system, so
to modify the existing law, us to mako it less
obnoxious to our feelings, nod less injurious
to our interest. 1 nm told, Sir, that the pro
tective principle is to he found hi this bill. It
is. I am sorry for it. It is then against my
wishes and exertions. But am I to hu told
that I udopt this protective principle because
my vote is given tor the hill in preference to
the existing law ? Is not Ihe protective prin
ciple in the act of 1628 ? Does the rejection
of this bill bnnish it from our political system ?
No, Sir, it stands, as before it Stood, in the
mosf odious and hateful form; nnd shall I bo
charged with acknowledging its justice or ad
mitting its authority, because I prefer it m the
modified and leas odious shape which it has
been made to assume ? I repel the imputa
tion. I will not retort upon those who act dif
ferently, although it is in my power. Those
who vote to reject this bill, if their purpose is
accomplished, fix the principle as firmly upon
the country, ax it will be fixed by the passage
of thu hill .before us. They as clearly adopt
y their negative pregnant vote, Ihe principlo
if protection us those who vole for the adop
tion of this modification of it. By preventing
the repeal of itie act of 1828, they impliedly
support all Ihutuct contains. A conclusion to
their prejudice, is ns fair ns that against uu
w ho will take the opposito course. I do not
draw this conclusion f the purpose of the
Southern Senators is avowed; they wilt not
coimteiianco the principle; let them huvo
croilil for it. All I ask is, that when forming
conclusions on this subject, they yield to the
others, lire justico exercised towards them.-?^
Let them admit, thut we do not adopt, or ap
prove, or countenance, the protective princi
ple, by preferring this measure to tho existing
law.
1 do not deny, Sir, that those who th .*
that the continuance of jho act of 1828 may
he produclivn of u still more favorable moitifi.
cation of tho revenue system, than tho present
lull, at the next session of Congress, are quito
right to desiro it to remain unrepeoled. Did
I entertain tlint opinion, i should act with
them. That this hope is vain, must be obvioug
to tho least observing. No important changes
in tho character of Congress can bn expected
to occur by tho next winter. The same opin
ions,tho same feelings, will continue to operate
upon tho same persons, aud tho results of ano
ther winters discussion, will ho similar to the
results of tho cffirla of tho last six months. It
is possible, that, hy hearing with the act, till a
now Congress is elected, under tho Into up.
porlionment of representatives, and a partial
cliunge in this body occurs, happier results
might bn anticipated ; but Sir, this anticipa
tion does not justify Ihe continuance of tho
burthens of un unnecessary taxation. Arc
gentlemen willing to collect ten millions ot
extru revere,.', for the chance of moro enlight
ened opinions in tho Congress of 1834 and ’5!
In my judgment, without estimating the dan
ger of suffering Ihe present public excitement
to continue, without an efl'orl to nlluy it, it
would bo unwise and unjust to purchase) this
chance at so high a price. If, ns I hope and
trust, the next Congress should bring moro
correct opinions into the public councils, iliu
abolition of the protective principle, ns it ap
pears in this hill, will bo n work of us little dif
ficulty, und as acceptable, us the banishment
of it, by the repeal of the act of 1828.
One word, Sir, to those who nro the friends
of the protective principlo; who reully be
lieve, in defiance of fact und reason, that its
preservation is essentially connected with the
best interest of the whole country. Do not
deceive yourselves, gentlemen. This bill is
no compromise—will net bn so considered.—
It is received us nn evidence of your desiro to
accommodate your principles, in the legisla
tion of the country, to our feelings. It is not
thut accommodation. You have stopped far
short of the true point, upon which the south
ern and northorn principles must unite. Thin
is only the first step. As such I liopo il will
ho considered, and so considered, that it will
prevent all violent denunciations and idle itle-
nuocs. But the protective principle must nnd
will ho abuudouod ; reason, justice, patriotism,
demand it, nnd their voice must bo sooner of
later obeyed. As for myself, never buying
given n voto on any question which can bu
tortured, (unless by those who are ptrudelei-
mined to find pretexts to complain of my con
duct,) into un approbation of the principle, it
will meet from me u ceaseless und uncom
promising hostility, until tho fatal error of
1S1G shall bu corrected.
I hud hoped, I cannot say that I confidently
expected, such no adjustment of this vexed
question, as would have deprived ull portion*
of thu country, nnd ull parties in tho Untoti,
of just motive fur again agitating it, before a
now crisis in our fiscal affairs should render it
absolutely necessary. In this hope I have
been disappointed. Those who have the
power, have most unwisely, as it regards the
interest of the whole country, and especially
of that class of tho community to whose bene- *
lit they liavo almost exclusively looked, left
the subject in such a state, that a recurrence
to it is inevitable. It will ho again agitated ;
under, 1 trust, happier auspices. Truth and
justicu may ho evaded for a season by indue.
Irious error end ever active cupidity ; but their
eventual triumph is certain. The time cornea
—I wail for it—confiding, that it is naldts-
taut.
From the Washington Clobc.
The Ajterpieee.—After the debate upon tho
President’s veto was doted, Mr. Clay pro.
dared a scene in tho Senate which struck Ilia
crowd iu tho galleries nnd Senate Chamber,
collected to hear the end of a speech which
Mr. Benton had begun the day before, with
ustonishinent. It lias been the subject of con
versation for several days in tho city, and 4*
