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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