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trwnlki Aew-Hnnn l “dot.
DUN .1! AN.
Oh splenetic—"y, hcentiou Byron!
Am ili c thy f'Hiiip at thy sober n o ?
The ngc when ntlioi'.i loci tlio heavy ir in
( 1 land nnil scythe of hiin, w ho, lliotJt'li close
in cage
Confin'd— doth tent inueh envious ire on
Silly mortals, by bis coolant pillage
Os their youth ; iTn kmg the teeth aw ay —
Sinking fond hopes.anti e.ooUn,': the youngday.
Bay you ‘ti Italy • her tepid piles—
Her spicy sun—ln r warm and hicinns earth;
Where i \ ery (ouch, and breath that one in-,
hides fbirtli —
Thrills fires, inflames, and gives sensations
We know hut little of them thus far north—
Be ddes hnaeinntion, as von say,
W iil oft do belter than the best essay.
But nave you, as report, says,gone to Greece ?
I’nll of the fervent spirit of 1!>,
\\ hi!o you sing to bleed \\ itli Clio, or flee.ee
The tyrant Turk of liberty's demesne ?
The cradle of ISlemmder, Sophocles,
•Sappho, Anacreon, am! Melpomene !
W itii fifty other favorites of thine,
With Whose renown will fume thine own en
tw inej
In wreath I’icrinn.—Go then, mid gain,
The soldier .’ laurel—“Go where glory waits
tbee!” [vein
Go bleed ; and prove thy blood from heart to
Nobler by nature than by pedigree.
“ None but the brave!” no blood but theirs
should slain
Their dust w ho slumber at Thermopylae ;
Or with Leonidas live in renown
Ur sleep with those w ho sleep at Marathon
But this is all more easily said than done.
Dare you brave the Turk, and show your
To his sci nietar ; glittering in the sun [bosom
bo tetri hie ‘ W ouhl it not move you some
I o trust your legs ?—tor most legs los e to run
Sometimes, especially from martyrdom.
Ami then your Turk's a phlebotomize! - !
.7 in V ngrtulo ; only much wiser.
let ‘tis i % \!*—the crooked ghastly gnshoa
c’ hi? rv'.ug, seem to insinuate
111 ■ i'( luiohow somewhere s •!• i what rash
In nis practim ; and too precipitate— [is,
Too hazardous— too fond i-t tl;g;hes
111 e'i etti'in ; 1 111! apt to dislocate
The head and shoulders—and his harbergeon
‘Sa rough instrument for a chirurgeor..
bo ‘tis of every man of medicine
Say you, from yEn olap dow nto
Him who check’d the great current of the line
Os Knalund’s proud legitimates: and v. ho
Robb’d Saxo—< ‘obotirg of the pr ispect fine
U 1 Kiiglani. s crown. Long e’er tliut prince
will w oo
Ami will again (he first in Christendom
Bj birth—. ml beauty too, tis said by some.
They never saw her, i presume to sav ;
l.’ut dial sno Blatter —it is just as well,
Now that her sweet flesh has returned to clnv,
And soul—(if true the tale the pujsons tell,
That thom-ands crowd the broad—few find the
narrow way)
As like as ten to one gone down to Hell.
Conclusion harsh and impolite indeed,
But he who doubts is ducin and by every creed.
Rut whether she wusd ne.n’d, nsdong ago
\s bloody Calvin thinks she might have been
Whell icr heaven’s Mahomet's scruglio,
As the Turk opines—whether it's a sin
To dance nud ‘ drown dull cure’ with Gallio ;
W hetherthc Pope can shut out and let in
To heaven whom lie chooses; —Whether as
Paul
Suggests, ’tis best to be ‘ all things to all,’
Let those dispute who will; —but l’ui for one
(. ontent to ‘take the good the Goes provide.’
And leave the bones; to go—like apples thrown
Vo monkey's tor a sc rain We—with the ii.ie
Os strife, to those to whom u game that's won
By snarling gives delight. I'm sails lied
To sit beneath my. tig tree and rny vine,
Lnjoy iny whims'and yield thee, Byron, thine.
Fnnn Ihe IMcrnri/ (las rile.
TO
‘Tis all 100 true—tint taclcil cheek,
That sunken eye,
These lie,cents tremulous and weak,
That tear, that sigh,—
11 ith idle hope Ive atchcd thy brow,
Front day to day ;
•’ l'is vain—a littir while, and thou
Wilt pass n\\uy.
May, dear one, 1 c . that soothing look,
That sooiliiti.. toife,
Thou dost i.ot tl.itik tltai I ecJd brook
To be alor e:
Thou wilt not say that 1 could Item
tin this dear
lo seek thy footstep o\ cry a here,
And find it not!
The sun will slum; as bright above
la otitcr days;
Tile moon we used to watch and love,
Mill win u>y g:i/,c ;
The flowers that shared our gentlest care.
May till bloom on,
Our bird pour lorth it* song ; but w here
M ill Ihou be gone t
Mi.ie eves niu-t dost*—where can they seek,
For aught so dear i
My lips he mute—v. hv ihauld I speak ?
Thau wilt not lienr 1
So, dearest-! cease that soothing look,
T hat soothing tone;
Ihou d'is| not think that ■ could brook
To i'< /'ip* 1
j£ r t.THi/.’*
Hii , mLACii. FftlNT FIl.
“ ‘I ho seejis to p'easc all men each .way,
Aid not him sell mlettd I
He may begin his w ork to-dav ■
li.it iiod knows when ’tw ill end.”
Old Fyigrum.
\ tltit lot, ast hoolmatcler,and a priu-
Ittr, lie tin tic iis prominent csscutinls
to the establishment of a village of the
first class, as a ’squire, a tavern, and a
blacksmith, are to one of the fourth or
filth, ‘the printer in the primativc
times of our country was usually left
out, hut riper age and the general dtf
fm < . oi hght brought him gradually
into the service, and increased his chu
ractcrand estimation so much, that he
has at last become of as vital conse
qucnce as either of the others. 11 time
allowed of comments of this sort, I
ini“!it be led to say that I view this
symptom of the genius of our country
men as a trait of great ami unquestion
able promise in a political ami moral
point of view. Hut with these things
1 have nothing to do, ami therefore
1 save the subject as I found it.
In a respectable village which was
grow tug into notice, and which was
located not many miles from the Sus
quehanna!), some years ago, the inhab
itants, being stricken with the preva
lent sentiment, erected a press, and
procured from the city a genuine
graduate of the type, to take charge of |
the concern. This was the first intro
duction our hero, ill Sutton, had to
the country. He was young, and with
al, an honest and ingenious youth, of
a mild and gentle temper, and but lit-1
tie skilled in the intrigue and deception
so current in the world, with which
his hasty transit from the shackles of
apprenticeship to the post of a publish
er and an editor, had allowed him no
time to shake hands. Flattered by the
blaze of what looked like the opening
of a splendid piospect, he, soon after
entered on his new ditties, relieved the
original proprietors of their burden,and
assumed the responsibility ol the con-1
corn himself. - I
To become popular, in other words
to please every one, is, periiaps, the
first aim and the freshest hope of ev
ery inexperienced and virtuous mind.
It is so beautiful in theory, and the
road appears at first so plain and easy
that he never dreams of difficulty iu
succeeding in the practice.—Will de- 1
termiued therefore to take every bo
dy’s advice, and whereever advice
clashed, to choose the medium between
the fvvo extremes.
He commenced his paper by giving
the greatest variety possible, anil prof
fering the most liberal terms, as touch
as to say, pay me when and how you
can. People were much pleased with
the first numbers,and many good folks
took him at his word, and sent in their j
names, lie set this down as ample]
promise of future success, and buiit ■
abundant hopes upon it; but sundry
printed, written and verbal lampoons
soot: roused him from his dreaming;
one of his brother printers not far dis
tant had lost a subscriber or two
through his agency, and, as his body!
was out of reach, his equitable n#igh-;
bor contented himself w ith adesperate
attempt to slip the noose round his
character, and hang it up to infamy.
This was the first move that honest
Will saw through, which staggered
his faith and weakened his credulity.
He rubbed his eyes anil looked at
it a moment, then concluded sagely,
il I offend but this fellow, whose mo
tives are broad and palpable, and who
cannot deceive others, l may still ac
complish my aim; I’ll set him down
s a cypher ; I'll still be popular.—
I’mo or three weeks elapsed, however
and the buz. of a hundred busy friends
began to hum upon his ear—too much
of this—too much of that, and not
enough of another description of mat
ter ; he listened—he was perplexed—
it was the medium he had been pursu
ing ; how should he now act. He at
last made up his mind ; wholy exclu
ded the description of matter that
had the fewest advocates, and increas
ed the quantum of other kinds ; a do
zen or two were still left complainants
and as he could do nothing w ith them
lie set them down as cyphers with the
printer; with these exceptions he still
resolved to please every body.
Next came in one of bis worthy
neighbors with a lampoon in his hand
I •. an i ueniy of his, and politely re
quested its insertion. Sutton saw a
dangerous predicament staring him in
the. face. It lie published it, lie should
make a powerful man and a host of
connexions his enemies—lie reasoned
the matter over with himself, and con
cluded to refuse it an insertion. The
author became outrageous ; he and his
friends turned their faces against the
printer, and poor Will was soon com
pelled to add at least a half a dozen
cyphers to his already lengthened
row. Before this had become eool on
his memory, a flock of birds flew
across the village, and the opinions of
the people became divided on the
question whether they were wild ducks
or geese. Sutton published the fact
and gave his opinion that they were
ducks ; the geese party called him a
fool, a catch-penny, a straggler, and a
puppy ; in almost despair he added a
dozen and a half cyphers to the ac
count he was keeping. Hut when lie
looked at that account even now, it
bore a small proportion to the popula
tion of the country, and he concluded
that lie would at least eventually
please a great majority of the peo
ple if he could not succeed in pleas
ing all.
Kven in this, however, lie was un
fortunately disappointed; election
times came on : there were two candi
dates for governor, and Sutton was
put completely at his wit’s in 1. He
knew neither < f the candidates: to
the matter of their politics, as they
were both represented to be plain, ho
nest sterling patriots, he could not
conjure up an objection, and both par
ties demanded his exclusive assistance.
What was to be done :—He stood neu
tral a little while, until lie found him
self rapidly going out of favor w ith both
parties. The crisis demanded a change
of policy, lie accordingly made a
bold push and sided with the strongest
party, consequently he broke with all
the others, made a few warm friends,
and very many bitter enemies. Will
saw now the blighting of all his pros
pects ; he did not change his resolu
tion however, but confined his hopes
I to the pleasing of the party whose
cause he espoused.’l.durolv,he thought
as he sighed over these vicissitudes, 1
‘shall keep these for whom I have
I made this great sacrifice, in my in
terests, and insure their good w ill.
Hut the time now drew nigh, when
to please his creditors, it was necessa
ry to collect all the money due from
1 his customers. He owed for paper,
and ink, and rent, and types, and
presses;and tin - '; 1 must be. paid fi r. —
J he collector was rigged off, and sent
! on the rounds; two weeks brought him
back —with about ten per cent on his
! accounts, and with the news that
I Messrs. A. B. and (~ ixe. including
! a hundred or two names, w ished their
papers stopped if they were to be dun
ned in this wav.
“ Alas,” said Will, as he sat down
in his office door, in utter desponden
cy, “ is this the end of all my care and
mortification. In striving to please
all J have offended all.” But honest
Vi ill Sutton’s is not a solitary case.—
This brief chapter of printer’s trials
will be recognized at this day by some
of the craft, though Wiil is under the
marble, and his office turned into a
huckster shop.
Trenton J\*. J. Emporium.
The Odd Family. —ln the reign of
king William 111. there lived at Ips
wich in Suffolk, a family, which
from the number of peculiarities
belonging to it, was distinguished
by the name of the odd family. Eve
ry event, remarkable good or bad
happened to this family in an odd
year, or an odd day of the month—
and every one of them had mme
thhigodd in his or her person, man
ner and behav iour. Ihe very let
ters of their Christian names always
happened to l>e of an odd number.
1 he husband’s name was Peter and
the wife's was Rahab ; they had
seven children, all boys ; viz. So
lomon, Roger, James, Mathew, Jo
nas, David, and .Ezekiel. The
husband had but one leg, and his
wife out one arm. Solomon was
born blind of his left eye, and Ro
ger lost his right eye by accident.
James had his left ear pulled off
by a boy in a quarrel, and Matthew
was bcii'n with only three fingers cm
his right hand. Jonas had a stump
foot, and David was hump-backed ;
all these, except David were remar
kably short, and Ezekiel was B feet
2 inches high at the age of 19.
I he stump-looted Jonas and hump
backed David, got wives of fortune
but no girl would listen to the ad
dresses of the rest. The husband’s
hair was black as jet, and the wife’s
as remarkably white, yet every one
of the children had red hair. * The
husband had the peculiar misfor
tune of falling into a deep sawpit,
where he was starved to death in
the year 1701, and the wife refu
sing all kind of sustenance, died in
five days after him. In the year
1703 Ezekiel enlisted as a grena
dier, and although he was after
wards wounded in twenty-three
places, he recovered. Roger,James,
Matthew, Jonas and David died at
different places, on the same day,
in the year 1713, and Solomon and
Ezekiel were drowned together in
crossing the Thames, in the year
1723.
From the. A’ if- Fork American.
‘• Will tltou draw item* the imtiit >< ; of the Gods,
Draw near them in being merciful.”
An interesting, but care-worn
mendicant, in vacant mood and
mind, entered the store of a wealthy
merchant in this city, and as he
paced along his eye rested upon an
unusual quantity of gold and sil
ver coin, which the clerks were bu
sied in counting. His heart sunk
within him as lie lelt the chill of
November, which reminded him of
the poverty of his lot and the mise
ry of his family, and turning away
in despair, he e jaculated to himself,
“ how happy some of that money
would make me ! “ What is that
you say, my friend ?” interogated
the merchant. The confused men
dicant begged to be excused :—he
was not conscious of Uttering any
tiling at the moment ; at any rate
his thought was not meant for his
ear. But the kind-hearted mer
chant would not take denial, and
the poor man repeated what before
had involuntarily broke from his
lips. “And how much, my dear
fellow, would it take, to make you
happy? “ O 1 dont know! the
winter is coming on apace, and I
have no wood ; my wife and chil
dren are hut poorly clad, for I have
been sick. Our wants are limited
however, and fifteen dollars would
dissipate the gloom of winter.”
“ John, count this man fifteen dol
lars.” Ihe ingenuous heart caw feel
like the grateful stranger, the no
bleness of such bounty, and exult
for human nature that meek eyed
charity should find such a kindred
abode. —At evening, the clerk in
quired, what entry he should make
of the money ? “O ? say, By ma
king a man happy, £>ls,” answer
ed the no less eccenti ick, than hu
mane merchant.
From ’ht Cutulil^'ionalixt.
“What shall we write ? said we to
ourselves ; as we sat musing in our
study and biting the end of our pen.
Something must needs be said
under the editorial head, and our
thoughts fix upon nothing either
new or entertaining. With the fall
of Cadiz our readers are already
acquainted, and every newspaper
tec ins with anathemas against the
French and speculations on the
cyents which are to follow their suc
cess. ‘I he subject is disgustingly
painful, and we will not dwell upon
it. The Presidential election is
equally hackneyed—all that can be
said against or in favor of the Can
didates, has been a dozen times re
peated, and the Falsehoods by which
“ the distinguished Georgian” has
been assailed, have been as often
refuted. We have nothing to add
therefore on this score, unless it
be the fact that New-York is 44 wide
awake” upon her post, and Repub
licanism triumphant in her late el
ections. The caucus subject is ex
hausted, and if it were not, we
should be content to resign it to the
able editor of the Enquirer, and to
the good sense of the people which
must revolt at an election bv the
House of Representatives. Os
“ Lords and dukes and noble Prin
ces,” we have nothing interesting
to i elate, except it may be that By
ron. in the opening of the ninth
Canto of Dun Juan, has treated his
Grace Wellington rather roughlv,
hailing him “the best of cut-throats”
and punning most villainously up
on his name ; nor does the fourth
George receive more courtesy
from his Lordship, by whom, nev
ertheless 44 an all-vloudless glory”
:s attributed to George W ashington.
Appropos, of the ninth, tenth and
eleventh Cantos of Don j uan, which
have just reached this city ; they
do not appear to he equal in poetic
merit to their predecessors, hut the
disposition to strip poor human
nature of all her affectations, and
to place her before the world with
all her deformity, seems rather to
have increased than diminished.—
As we are at a loss for an article we
transcribe the stanzas on Jeffrey
and Scotland, which are rather in
contrast with the rest of the work.
And uli our little feuds, at least all mine,
Dear Jefl'eiy, once my most redoubted foe,
(As tar as rhyme and criticism combine
To make such puppets of us things below )
Are over ; 1 lore's a health to ‘Aulil Lang up,!’
I do not know you. ami may never know
\ our face—but you have acted on the whole,
Moat nobly, ami 1 ow n it from my soul.
And when I use tlijj Phrase of “Auld Lane
Syuc!” [pity
‘Tis not addressed to you—the more’s the
For me, tor I would rather take my wine
With you, than might (save Scott) in your
proud city. [whine
Ihit somehow.—it may shew a schoolboy's
And yet I seek not to he'grand nor w illy,
B'it I übi hall a Scot by birth and bred
V whole one, and my heart Hies to my head—
As ‘ Auhl Lang Syne’ brings Scotland, one and
nil, . [and clear streams,
Scoti-h plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills,
she l)ce, the Don, Ualgouuie's Brig’s black
trail*
All my hov feelings, nil my gentler dreams
O! what I then driunil , clothed in their own
P 4 *H, [seems
Like Bnmpin's offspring ;—floating past me
My childhood in this childishness of mine;
I rare not—tis a glimpse of 4 Auld Lang Syne.’
And though as you remember, in a tit
Dl wrath and rhyme, when juvenile and
curly,
( ended id Scots to show my w ruth and wit,
Which must be owned was seusutive anil
; urly.
V et tis in vain such sallies to permit,
they cannot t|iieucli young feelings, fresh
nod early ; “ [blood,
Ij“ trn/r! W not killed’ the Scotchman in mv
And Ime tin* land of‘ mountain and of Hood".’
* The brij of Don near the “ auld
toun” ot Aberdeen, with its one arch
and its black deep salmon stream be
low, is in tnv memory as yesterday.—
I stilt remember, though p or p
may misquote the awful proverb 2*)
made me pause to cross ir >an ,j ■
over it with a childish del'Hit i
an only son, at least by
-ide. The. saving as recollect.JV
me was this, but 1 have never he J
or s eon it since l was nine vea?‘
age. J
“ Brig of Balgounie, hlnrk’i vo nru .
U i’ a wife's ae. non, and u inear's at r,,,
Dona yc shall fa !”
LIFE INSURANCE.
In a storm one night,
When all was fright
’Mongst die passengers and crtr
An Irish down
Like a block sat down,
And seem’d as senseless too.
Conduct like this
Was much amiss,
And not to be endur'd ;
But when ask’d why,
lie made reply,
“ Good folks, mij life's insured,”
An Irishman was once brought
before a magistrate, charged with nia
tying six w ives. The magistrate asU
him how he could he so base a villan
“ Please your worship,” says Paddv
“ I was trying to get u good one!” ’’
A middle ajred man lately presetted
himself at the matrimonial altar. ‘f le
j clergyman bavins; surveyed the mn
fora moment, said, “ Pray, friend I
think you have a w ife already,living
“ May be so, sir, (said he) for 1 havij,
treacherous memory.”
It is painful to us all, we lener,
! to lie down at night, and think ite
duties of the day have not ben
done.- It is more painful to cist
the year, and to think that it as
been wasted in idleness and fdv.
—But what alas ! must be the fel
ings of those who lie down at Ist
upon the bed of death, and lot
back upon their past lives withao
rememberance of goodness wo
can recall only riches wasted nd
power abused, and talents misfit
ployed—and see the grave opemi;
to receive them, upon whichno
tear will he shed and no memcial
of virtue raised. Addisoi
Vi \ ecuiors Sole.
T¥7lLlihe sold on Friday the lifb
V of January next, at the lase ev
idence of David Hell a way deceaei!,
in Jefferson county,
T\\o Vovsom\\ VvoyicvW it
said deceased, consisting of a stor.lof
rattle, one Horse, Plantation Tols,
Corn and Fodder, &c. &c.
ALSO—To be rented and hire on
the same dav the Plantation and Je
groes belonging to said estate.
Terms made known on dav of it.
JU VID T. SMITH, Ex' i
December 3d, 1823. t(b— ‘
A hhwistratov’s S a\c.
WILL be sold at she Court-luse
in Bibb counfv, on the fit
Tuesday in February next,
().\ E NEGRO FELLOW
Joe, belonging to the estate of Jw
I). Williams, deceased: Sold uftf
authority of the Court of Ordinary
R\bb county, for the benefit of the re
ditors of saitl estate.
Timothy Matthews, Jldnf
with the will aimed’
Dec., 3, 182S. tils’
•\i\m‘m\st\T\tors Sa\e.
VITILL be sold, on Thursdays
vv first day of January next 1 *
the highest bidder, at the hus
Young Allen, in Jefferson Count' 1
Two Afegro v/..
Willis, a man, and Ref us, a boybe
lotiging to the estate of Susannah or*
dan, deceased.—Sold for the betur 0
the heirs and creditors of saitl de •
and in conformity with an order oW*
Court of Ordinary of said county.
‘Perms made known on the da) 01
Sale.
JOHN JORDAN, Adn-r
Nov. Bth, 1823. 35ttl^
AiWunslvatov's Su\e.
ON Tuesday, flic 22d day rfj*
ccmber next, will be sold a 1
late residence of \V illoughbv S
late of Twiggs countVi dec'll
Wirt of the Vi'i-sonat ft*
perty belonging to said estate c° n ’’
iug of one set of Blacksmith s f' lol , ,
yoke of Oxen,one Watch, and t" o'* 0 '*
y Colts. Terms made known
day of sale.
Nana) TIM, Jldtnr*’
IVm.'jl. Thar/i,- M ni {’
Nov. 4th, 1823. tdv^Y
mikitats
OF EVERY DESOHII’TIOX*
VorsuWaV Uus