Newspaper Page Text
THE MUSEUM.
THERMOMETRICAL AND ANOLOGICAL
TABLE v
A'rpt at Tybee, f'-om July 30 to Aug . 5.
TYBEE. SAVANNAH.
= 1 ISB
T)4TE. 2 . WISD. 5 WISD,
* -*• rs
July 30 884 ssw 87 s
12 86 sisbyE 89 .ss
384 sby e 87 es e
_____ 683 w 861 sn
31 c 77 k e 80 it x
12 79 es e 86 E -by s
8 81 be 86 e
6 80 E 8 E 87 n
f- ‘ Aug’. 1 880 eby n 82 he
12 82 “ 84 se |
3 84 “ 81 s
682 e 80 __ “ i
2 883 e 81 by"w
12 86 sbvN 86 e
3 84 e 87
3 ll 81 es e 80 nby w
12 83 “ 87 eby s
384 be 89 s e
6 73 ie 86 s
4 BIU4 nxV 82 “ b
12 85 sby e 87 “
3 86 “ 88
- .... 684 “ 86
j g 79 wby s 85 s w
12 83 sby e 87
3 84 s 86 s
6 ; 9 SB 84 “
Fiom *'Lights mid Shadows of Scotish Lift.”
AN HOUR IN TriK MANSE.
In a few weeks the annual Sacrament of the i
Lord’s Sujtpcr was to be administered in the
parish of Deanside; &. the minister, venerable I
irt okl age, of authority by the power of Iris tali
eni* and learning, almost feared for his sanctity, !
yet withal beloved for gentleness and compass- ’
son that had never been found wanting when re- I
quired either by the misfortunes or errors of a- i
I;v pi s flock, had delivered for several success
ive Sabbaths, to full congregations, sermons on <
t|,e proper preparation of communicants in that
uwiul ordinance. The old man was a followei |
of Cal vim and many; who had listened to him i
with a resolution in their hearts to approach the t
tab'-i of the Redeemer, fe]t so awe stricken and I
awakened at the conclusion of his exhortations, •
that,they-gave their souls anotlier year to medi- I
tate on wnat they bad heard, and a pure and <
humble ’Course of life, to render themselves less t
‘unworthy to partake the mysterious and holy ’
bread and wine
’ The good old man received in the Manse, I
for a couple of hours every everfng, such of his |
paAshioners as came to signify their wish ‘o I
panalce of the sacrament; and it was then no <
ted, that though he in no wise departed, in his
conversation with them at such tones, from the l
spirit of those doctrines which-lie had delivered 1
from the pulpit, yet liis manner was milder, I
am) more soothing, arid fi*H of encouragement; ‘
So that many who went to him almost with qua- ‘
Jtpig l,v ti, i runrpiiiity and peace,
and ‘onked forward to the most impressive and 1
Solemn act, of the Christian faith, with calm and I
glad aiiiicip..tiii;i.’ The old mao thought trilij
and justly, that few, if any, would conic to me ]
manse, after having heard hi in in the kirk, with
out due and deep reflection; and, therefore, !
though he allowed none to pass through his 1
hands with >ut strict examination, he spoke to 1
them all benignly, and with that sort of pater
nal pity, w hich a religious man, about to leave 1
this life, feels towards all his brethren of man- *
kind, who are entering upon, or engaged in its •
scenes of agitation, trouble, and danger. {
One of these evenings, the . servant showed *
into die minister's study a tall, bold-looking, 1
dark-vi9aged man, in the prime of life, who, 1
With little of the usual courtesy, advanced into 1
the middie of the room, and somewhat abruptly
dec)area the sacred purpose of his visit. Bill 1
before he could receive a reply, he looked a- ‘
round agd before him; and there was some- ‘
tiling so solemn in the old minister’s appear- 1
an e as he „ai like a spirit, with his unclouded !
ey-.’ ix dan on the intruder, that person’s <
c i ntenance fell, and his heart was uivoliuitari I
1. - u eke.i against his side. An old large Hi- J
ble, the same that he read from in the pulpit, 1
Was lying upon before him One glimmering 1
candie showed, his beautiful and silvery locks 1
failing over his temples, as his head half stoop- ‘
e.d over the Sacred page; a dead silence was in 1
the room dedicated to meditation and prayer; 1
the old inan, it was known, sometime fell him
jself to iie dying, and had spoken of the sacra- :
meat of this summer as the last he could ever J
hope to administer; so that altogether, in the 8
silence, the dimness, the sanctity, the unworhl- s
lines* of the lime, the place, and the being be- *
fore him, the visiter stood like one abashed and ‘
apph el; and bowing more reverendly, or, at ’
least, respectfully, he said, with a hurried and 1
quivering voice, • Sir, I come for your sanction *
to he admitted to - the table at - our Lord.
The minister motioned to. him with liis hand !
to si* down', and it was a relief to the trembling 1
roan to do so, for he was in the presence of him
who he felt saw into his heart A sudden’
change; from hardihood to terror, took place j!
within liis dark nature —he wished himself nut;’
of the insupportable sanctity of that breathless j
. room; and a remorse, that had hitherto slept;-
or been drowned within him, now clutched liis 1
heartstrings as if with an alternate grasp of !
frost and tire, and made liis knees knock against :
each oilier w here he sat, and his face paie as 1
ashes. 1
•Norman Adams, saidst thou that thou wilt ,
take into that hand, and put into those lips, the
symbol of the blood that was shed for sinners,
and of the body that bowed on the cross, and
then gave up the ghost? If so, let us speak to- 1
gather, even as if though were communing with i,
thine own heart. Never, again; may 1 join in
that sacrament, for the hour of my departure is ‘
st hand. Say, wilt thou eat and drink death to ‘
thine immortal soul ’
The terrified man found strength to rise from :
Lis seat, and staggering towards the door, said,
•Pardon, forgive ins, lam not worthy ‘ *lt is
. not I who can pardon,-Norman. The power
lies not with man—Put sit down—you are dead
ly f>sle—an ’ tluiigh, I fear, an ill-living anp
dissolute man, greater sinner-- have repented
and been saved. ‘ A pproacii not now the table
of the Lord, but confess all your sf ns before him
in the silence of your own house, and upon your
naked knees on the stone floor every mornmg
every night—and it this you do faithfully,
humbly, and.with a contrite ln-art, come to me ‘
again whyn the Sacrament is over, and l will
speak words of comfort to you; if, then, I am
able to speak, if, Norfnan, it should be on my
death bed. This will I do for the sake of thy
soul, atid fbr the sake of thy father, Norman,
whom my soul loved, and who was a support to
me in my ministry, for many long years, even
for two score and ten, for we were at school to
gether—and had your father been living now,
iie would, like myself, have this very day fit isli
ed his eighty-fifth year. I send you not from
me in anger, but in pity and love. Go, my son,
and this very night begin your repentance, for
if that face speak the truth, your heart must be
sorely charged.’
Just as the old man ceased speaking and be
fore the humble or at least affrighted culprit
had risen to go, anotlier visitor of a very differ
ent kind was shown into the room. A young,
beautiful girl, almost shrowded in her c! -ak,
with a sweet pale face, on which sadness seem
ed in vain to strive with the natural expression
of the happiness of youth.
‘Mary Simpson,’ said the kind okl man, as
she stood with a timid courtesy near the door;
•Mary Simpson, approach and receive from my
hands the token for which thou cornest Well,
dost thou know the history of thy Saviour’s life,
and rejoicest in the life and immortality brought
to light by the gospel. Young and guileless,
Mary, art thou, and dim as my memory now is
of many things, yet do I well remember the
evening, when first beside my knee thou heavi
est read how the wise men from the East came
to the place ofhis nativity—and how the An
gels were heard singing in the fields of Uethle-.
hem all the night long ’
Alas, every word tha* had thus been uttered,
sent a pang into (he poor creature’s heart, and
without lifting her eyes from lhi floor, and in a
voice more faint and hollow than belonged to
one so young, she said, “Oh! Sir, I conie not as
an i: .ending communicant; yet the Lord my
God knows that I. am rather miserable than guil
■y, and he will not stiller my soul to perish,
though a baby is now within me, the child of
guilt, and sin, and horror. This, my shame,
come I to tell you: but for the father of my ba
be unborn, cruel though lie has been to me, Oh!
cruel, cruel indeed, —yet shall liis name go
down with me in silence to the grave,. 1 must
not, must not breathe his name in mortal ears,
but I have looked round me in the wide moor,
and when nothing that could understand was
by, nothing living but birds, and bees, antj the
sheep I was herding, often have I whispered
his name in my prayers, and beseeched God
and Jesus, to forgive him all his sins ”
At these words, of which the passionate ut
terance seemed to relieve her heart, and before
the pitying and hew ilderetl old man could re- -
ply, Alary Simpson raised her eyes from the
floor, ana fearing to meet the face of the tninis
t< r, ’ which had heretofore never shone upon ;
her but witli smiles, and of which the expected i
frown .was to her altogether insupportable, she i
turned them wildly round the room, as if for a I
dark resting place, and beheld Norman A< ams
rooted to his scat, leaning towards her with liis i
white ghastly counlnnanre, and his eyes start! g ,
from their sockets, seemingly in wrath, agony, |
fiaaiv-and remorse That terrible face struck
poor Alary to the heart, and she sank against i
the well, and slipped down, shuddering upon a ]
chair
“Norman Adams, 1 am old and weak, but do <
you put your arm round that poor lost creature, ]
and keep her frbm falling down on the hard i
Hour. I hear it is a stormy night, and she has -
walked some milt s hit ev, no wonder she is o- j
vercoine. You have heard her confession; but (
•t was not meant lor your ear so, ti'l 1 see you ;
again, o-y nothing ot wnat you inn; ■—
heard. ;
‘•O Sir ! a cup of v ater, for my blood is either |
Raving my heart altogether, or it is droyving it ,
Yotir Voice, sir, is going far, far away from me, 1
and lam sinking down Old hold me,— hold ,
me. up! —is it a pit into which lam falling? -Saw ]
I not Norman Adams?—Where i he now?’’
The poor maiden did not fail of the chair, ai- j
though Norman Adams supported her no*; but |
her iiead lay back against the wall, and a s gb, ,
long and dismal, burst from her bosom that .
deeply, affected the old mans heart but struck j
lliat of the speechless ami motionless sinner, |
like Uie first toll of the prison bell that warns |
the fellon to leave his cell and come forth to ex- ,
ecution. ‘
The minister fixed n stern eye upon Norman, |
for, from the poor girl’ ur.concimls words, it ,
was plain that he was the guilty wretch who (
had wrought ail this misery. “You knew, did
you not, that she had nti’ her father nor mother, ,
sister nor brother, scarcely one relation on ,
earth to care for or watch over her; and yet ]
have you Used her so? If her beauty was a
temptation unto you, did not the sweet chilli’s |
innocence touch your hard and selfish heart |
vvitn pitv; or tier guilt and grief must surely j
now wring it with remorse Look on her— j
white—cold—breathless—still as a corpse; and ,
yet, i lion hold had man, thy foot steps would ,
hare approached the Table of thy Lord.”
Mary*Simpson partly avoke from her swoon,
and her dim opening eyes met those of Norman ,
Adams She shut them with a shudder, and |
said, sickly and with a quivering voice, “'(> .
spaie me, Norman: Are we again in that dirk ]
fearful wood? Tremble not for your life on ,
earth, Norman for never, nev *r wilt 1 tell to
mortal ears that terrible secret; but spare ,
me, spare me, else our Saviour, with all his ,
mercy, will never pardon your unrelenting soul ,
1 hese are cruel looking eyes; you will not sure
ly murder poor Alary Simpson, unhappy as she 1
is, and must forever be—yet life is sweet! She ,
beseeches jou on her knees to spare her life!” ,
—and in the intense fear of phantasy, the poor
creature struggled off the chair, and fell down
indeed in a heap at his feet ‘
Canst thou indeed be the son of old Norman !
| Adams, the industrious, the temperate, the mild,
and the pious ? Who so often sat iii this very
room, which your presence has polluted, and
and spake with me on the mysteries of life and of
and, slh Toni ravisher what stayed thy hand from
the murder of that child, when there were none
near to hear her shrieks in the dark solitude of
the great pine wood f”
Norman Adams smote his heart and fell down
too on hiskness beside the poor ruined orphan
j He put his arm round her, and, raising her from
j the floor, “No, no, my sin is great, too great
‘for heaven’s forgiveness; but, O Sir, 9ay not,—
isa> not that I would have murdered lire; for sav
age as crime was, yet may God judge roe less
terribly, than if 1 had taken her life ”
In a little while they were both seated with
some composure, and silence was in the room.
No one spoke.A. the old gray haired man sat with
eyes fixed, without reading on the open Bible
At last he broke silence with these words out
of Isaiah that Seemed to have foroed themselves
on liis heedless eyes. “Though your sins be as
scarlet, they shall be whi’e as snow; though
(hey be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
Mary Simson wept nfoud at,these words; and
seemed to forget, her own wrongs and grief in
ommiseratiou ot the agonies of remorse and
fiar that were now plainly preying on the soul
of the guilty man. “I forgive you, Norman, and
will soon be out of the way, no longer to anger
you with the sight or me,” Then fixing hes
streaming eyes on the minister, she brought
him not to be the means of bringing him to
punishment, and a shameful death, for that he
might repent, and live to be a good man, and
respected in the palish; but she was a poor or
phan for whom few cared and who, when dead
would have but a small funeral.
“I will deliver myself up into tho hand of jus
tice,” saiil the offender, “for I do not deserve
to live. Mine was an inhuman crime, and let a
violent and sliamefuil death be my doom.”
The orphan girl now stood up as if bet
atrengh hadj been restored, and stretching out
her hands passionately, with a flow of most af
fecting ana beatifui language, inspired by a
meek, single, and sinless heart, .that could not
bear thought of utter degradation &{ wretched
ness befalling any one ot’ the retional children
of God, implored and beseeched the old man to
comfort the sinners before him, :.nd promise
that the dark transaction of guilt should never
leave the concealment of their own three
hearts. “Did lie not save thy lives ot two bro
who were drowning in that black
mossy loch, when their own kindred, at wrrk a
mong the hay, feared the deep sullen water,
and all stood aloof shuddering and shrieking, till
Norman Adams leap’t in to thc-ir rescue, and
drew them by the dripping hair to the shore,
and then laydown beside them on the heather,
as like to death as themselves ? I myself saw it
done; I my sell heard the mother call down the
blessings of God on No; man's head, and then
all the haymakers knelt down and prayed.-
When you, on the Sabbath, reiurued thanks to
God for that they were saved, Oh I kind Sir,
did you not name, in the full kirk, him who, un
der Providence, did deliver thorn from death,
am! who, you said thus showed himself to be a
Christian indeed? May his sin against me be
forgotten, for the sake of those two drowning
boy *, and their mother who blesses his name
unto ’his day.”
from a few questions solemnly asked, and so
lemnly answered, the minister found that Nor
man Adams had been won by the beauty and
loveliness of this poor orhan shepherdess, as he
had sometimes spoken to her when sitting on
the hilside with her flock, but that pride bad
prevented him from ever thinking of her in mar
riage It appeared that lit had also been false
ly informed, by a youth whom Mary disliked
lor his brutal 6c gross manners, that she was not
the innocent girltnat-seeming simplicity deno
ted. On returning from a festive meeting,
where this abject person had made many mean
iiisinutioiis against her virtue, Norman Adams
met hi r returning to her master’s house, in the
dusk of tiie evening, on the fool pith leading
through a lonely wood; and, though his crime
was ot the deepest dye, it seemed to the minis-,
ter of the religion ol mercy, that by repentance,
and belief in the atomneftt, that had once been
made fir sinners, he too might perhaps hope
for forgivuess at the throne of God.
“I warned ycu, miserable man, of the fatal
nature of sin, when it first brought a trouble
over y dur countenance, and broke in upon the
peaceful integrity of your life. Was not the si
lence of the night often terrible to you, when
you were alone in the moors, and the whisper*
ofvour own conscience told you, that every
wicked thought was sacreiige to your- father’s
du.vt? Step by step, and almost imperceptibly,
perhaps, did you advance upon the road that
leadeth to destruction: but look back now, and
what a long dark journey have you taken, stand
ing as you are on the brink of everlasting death,
OnCe you were kind, gentle, generous manly,
and free, but you trusted to ihe deceifitlness of
;<iut u*niitw,| y-nn ratmuged youfseil from
Hie house of the God ofyour lathers, and what
has your nature done for you at la-t but sunk
you into a wretch, savage, selfish, cruel, Cow.
ardiv, and in good truth a
you, ancl forfeited to the hangman’s hand—
Look on that poor innocent chiid, and what is
man without God. What would you give now,
if the last three years of your reck e s 1 t'e hurt
been past in a dungeon dug deep into the earth,
with hunger and thirst gnawning at vour heart
and bent down under a cart load of chain:? Yet
look not so ghastly, for I condemn you not ut
terly; nor, though I know your guilt, can l
know what good may get be left uucorrupted un
cxtiiiguished in your soul. Kneel not to me.—
Norman; Listen not so your eyes upon me; lift
them upwardsjmd then turn them in upon your
own heart, for lh : dreadful reckoning is oe
tween it and God ”
Mary Simpson had now recovered all her
strength, an ! she knell dawn by the side of the
groaner. h op was the ;>ity she now felt for
him, whom to her had shown no nity; she did
not refuse to Jay her light arm tenderly upon
his neck. Often had she prayed to God to save
his sou!, even among her jruiful sobs of shame
in the solitary glens; and now that she beheld
his sin punished with a remorse more than he
could bear, the- orphan would have willingly
died, to avert from liis prostrate head the wrath
of the Almighty
The old man wept at the sight of so much in
nocence, am! so much guilt, kneeling together
before God. in strange union and fellowship of
a common being With his own fatherly arms
be lilted up the orphan from her knees, and
s;ud, “Mary Simpson, my sweet and innocent
Mary Simpson, for innocent thou art, the el
ders will give thee a token, that will on Sabba h
.day, admit thee (not tor the first time,though so
young.) to the communion table Fear not to
approach it; look at me, and on my face, when
1 bless the elements, and be thou strong in
the *trength of the Lord Norman Adams, re
turn to jour home. Go into the chamber where
vour father died. Let your knees wear out
Jjie part of the floor on which he kneeled. It is
somewhat worn you seen the
mark of your father’s knees. Who knows, but
that pardon and peace may descend from Hea
ven even upon such a sinner ss thou. On none
such as thou have mine eyes looked, in knowl
edge, among all those who have lived and died
under my care, for three generations lt iv t
great is the Unknown guilt that may be hidden
even in the church yard of a small quiet parsen
age like this! Dost thou feel as if God forsaken?
Or, Oh ! say it unto me, canst thou, my son,
dare to hope for repentance I”
The pitiful tone of the old man’s trembling
voice, and the motion of his shaking and w'th
ered hands, as he lifted them up almost in at
titude of benediction, completed the prostra
tion of that sinner’s spirit All his betier na
ture, which had too long been oppressed under
scorn of holy ordinance and the coldness 1 of infi
delity. and the selfishness of lawless designs
that insensibly harden the heart they do not
dissolve, now struggled to rise up and res vert
its right. “YVhen I remember what I once was,
I can hope—when I think what I now am, I
only, only fear.’’
A storm of wind and rain had come on, ar.d
Mary Simpson slept in the mause that night. On
the ensuing Sabbath she parto- k of the sacra
ment.. A woful illnesfell upon Norman A lains;
and then for a long time no one saw him, or knew
; where lie had gone It was said that he was in
, a distant city* and thkt'he was a miserable crea
ture, that never again could look nponthe sun.
• But it was otherwise ordered. He returned to
t his farm, greatly changed in face and person, but
i even yet more changed in spirit.
The old minister had more days allotted to
1 him than he had tl r ught. and was not taken a
• way for some summers- Before lie died, he had
reason to know that Norman Adams had repent
ed tn tears of blood, In thoughtsef faith.- and in
deeds of charity; and he did not fear to admit him,
too, in good time, to the holy ordinance, along
with Alary Simpson, then his wife, and a-e mo
ther of his children.
[From the Baltimore Ftdcral Republican.]
“ Free Press and Printers’ High Is .”
The following letter, upon a public sub
ject, received from a public officer with
whom we have never had the pleasure oi
a private acquaintance, must have been
meant for publication, ami therefore we
give it, that he may appear in his piopei
person
V ASHLYGTQX, July 19, 1822. *
Sir — ln. your paprr of lh<e‘e7t’i > I notice an'inti”
motion of your iHUn.ion to take the conduct of Mr-
Fluke and inysej in luinil nip the opinion that
“ you shad le able to shew that they laid law and
justice puist ate” I think it necessary, there
Jure, to inform you that tins tijniiii.n /ms been for
med without a full knowledge rj the prwee’ ding;
und testimony had id the case uj -dr. Finney;
and tiuit ifyau take ipou yourselfto publicly dis
cuss the matter oil ex parte testimony, you v id
do it at yonc own its';, and -will of course, pie
pared to meet the consequence ,- for / /dace to high
u value on public opinion, to uUo w my cnru acter to
be tampered with with unpun ty. If the prtps has its
liberties, individuals aggiieved by it have a‘so the
means of obtaining redress secured to them
When the official trial of Lieutenant Abbott
shall issue from the press, which will he in about
a week / and when ail the documents hud in the
examination of Air iUnitefs conduct shall he
befote the public, which will, as 1 am informed
soon be the ease I can then have no objection to
a just criticism of my agency in these matters—
for IJ'cela conviction, that the pub ic will not on
ly Justify die opinion oj Air Stake end inysef
but bear me ofit in the belii f that both Ale Fin
ney and cap-. Hull have been wickedly and mali
ciously pe, secured. and w'Ai pronounce that the
sentence of.the Court -Martialon Lieutenant Abbot
was mild considjiing the magnitude and aggrava
tion „f the offences proved against that officer,
lam, Air very respectfully, *
l ow obedient seivanl,
j) Fu nr eh.
Fred'k Schaeffer, esq Fallimo e.
We stood in no need of any admonition
of the gallant captain, a to onr rights in
exercise of a free and independent press,
•nor of its conellative responsibility. We
know to a tittle all Ihc lawful risks to
which it is subject, and it is not in hi
power, if he cho-ai, to add to them, such a.
they a*e. We do not understand him as
wishing to scatter threaps of an extian on-,
kind ; had >uch been trie meaning of his
words, they would have, been utterly dis
regarded. As one of the servants oflhe
people, we have a rig’.t to scrutinize his
acts, and will not betray our duty, so foi
as to flinch from it. With liis private
character we have nothing to do ; but his
public character so publice property j a!id
w;th respect In either, he ought to be aware
of the maxim of life, that it ;; man, pavticu
iarlv in ao elevated station, takes pioper
care of his conduct, no “tampering” can
injure his character
It is not For him Jo presm ibe to us, when
and how wa shall he permitted t<niisrbss
public affairs, even when they ivlate to him
self. As to thegrnuuds which are now be
fore the public, upon which to judge of the
merits of this business, it does not lie in
the mouth of capt. Porter, above all men,
to call them ex parte. In Abbot’s busi
ness he was at o ice the accuser the officer
making the arrest, the witness, and the
zealous overweening agent of the prosecu
tion, who attended the trial, objected to
testimony, and .examined the witnesses.--*-
Can he, after all this, be permitted, with
tho shadow of propriety, to call the. pro
ceedings ex parte Then, as to their
authentication ; they coutefo us with the
atfesiation of Mr. VY aido, one of the most
respectable counsellors of- Boston, who
places his namo in tiie title page.—"liis
correctness and impartiality have not been
dispu'ed. But it seems t’lat we are requir
ed to wait for the official publication, which
is to appear hereafter. This we can not
submit to. We are not bound to make up
our judgment upon any official rule*, sug
gestions or drafts, where other sufficient
evidence exists; much less fiom those,
emanating from military sources. It is
out yet come to this. God forbid it ever
should !—Bt Ldes our confidence is not in
a state to yield itself explicity to official
doing* or outgoings. We acknowledge,
that recent events have materially dimin
ished the rescect, which we could before
have entertdf ied for them. With retgard to
the documents, which he informs us, are
expected to be published by somebody, we
know not whom, and when we are not
told, respecting something about the ex
culpation of the :iiavy agent Binney, it is
very odd, that we should be interdicted, till
all the uncertainties respecting them^’hall
be cleared up, or that when they appdfc, it
should be expected that we swallow them
down. The good captain here appears to
have forgot his doctrine of ex-parte proofi
n'he can judge any thing about their na- :
ture, they must possess an ex parte char
acter of the rankest sort. The witnesses
against Binney were examined upon oath,
but the explanations he gave as
we are iuformed by Abbott were without
oath, from which he was carefully and
repeatedly excluded. Yet these are the
lights, under whose glare, Binney was pro
nounced guiltles, and which most probably
are those, by which we are expected to be
dazzled. We will wait for no such docu
ments, If material, they ought to have
been long ago produced. They may not
come at all, for they are not even prom
ised, If they should appear, and they
should perad vrotargintoTve any cor, “
of our reflections, they shall’ h;*e i ’
weight ami be properly noticed.
We had here been admonished he-.ii
crowd of our paper, to suspend for a* ."-’J
venient opportunity of non, some of]
remarks, going nearer to the feelb aS J
interest of the sensitive captain, r„* v.a J
the above ’e merely, when we wr, P , j
pelled to forego our intention, and tJ
io the irrepressible laughter, wi.icii'jj
communication in the National IntefliuJ
cer of jCUcnlay compelled, it ]
ihus :
To the Editors < f the Mutlonel Intel l
Gentlemen—.l itgu and for my chanct-r J
public officer, ana a desire to wm m thou; - ; / h |
uujuoty assail it of the difficulties m Wri-,! ■ I
nlug he likely t% inv-dvf themselves indue.?! 1
request you to givepnbhtiiy io the enclosal I
Very re pec fully, your obedient *’ I
, F. Oil l
’1 licsikiij, July 30, 1822. |
Washington, 30th .Tub,,
Sir-In-your paper rfyesleuly, 7,.; c „ c 'j
publication of a article taken, f ~m lie p J
Republican of t <r'27iti, / tlertfme deem it uM
to enclose to you a copy of a inter
me to the editor of that paps r etui to
that the ilehr, dilution l have taken, with rr i,J
him. extends to ervi y .editor who mao
as sail my character, bom whnte'cr
attack iay originate. I am, *ir,
your most o'edu ut servant, |
i> Fomim
Jonathan Eli U, Esq. ■
Editor of the H'asfdngton Gaz- >!■•, I
Pennsylvania Aveiatf, U'usU.-gt m a
What man. who thought biased’ mtulil
nerable, cvti before published an uw- J
anticipated tin eat against those wnnmifl
he disposed to examine his conduct?
certainly shall not pe rail eu, selves to|
thus dialled up a- the precedent fur inti!
datum. Why! gout! ir, -we mean?, J
still mean to strip and examine you in - I
proceeding* in die business of tiie Charil
ton Navy Ya’d from head to foot, anil I
dibit all your blemishes that we f“iJ, fail
fully to the people, of whom you are!, I
iog but a servant trusted with ,i /iff/cfol
authority, aod who are already m, J
formed about your conduct titan
to be aware of, judging from foe impel
fem e of the tone you nave assumed.
tire rejoiced, that we, and our unonla.fl
brother editois t fall parties, are .Uut
joct to your court luctriia!* orcmr.mfoiß
er-like process. YY e cannot,. pautonH
help our heart ovpi flowing on this ccfl
sion, with a sense of ihe blessing am!
city of the civil tribunals, a-, distinguish
from what has been experienced iVontl
others. ■
We must outbreak the thread inthisl
cidental manner,of what vveha’etiiH
when fvc shall have more space. ■
therefore part to meet again at WltM
YVeare willing to walk into court
you any day, that you chouse to meetuH
answer for what we may do vou unjiß
If you mean any thing extra j ml.ciaiß
which we do not accuse you, ami riuV
our charity ah-o.'vcs-yuu; be jde-fcfl
change our impiession. 3m
LEAH MINES.
St. Louis, (Missouri,) June 29.1
From the (fpperJlississipi. i
Mr. Forsyth, of tiie Indian l>c|>ai't(J
arrived in town a few dajs sii-ce froiil
Lead Mines on La Feivre. Hestltesl
the Indians, paiticulaily the Faxes, J
many objections to Colonel Johnson’*!
to waik the mines, urging that they I
Sauks and Foxes) never sold tiie larnl
the east side of the Mississippi /lig'iel
tl.ao the mouth of flock River, dfo. I
from tie imposing force of the whites!
were present at flu* Cfousril, and tliei
talks made by die Agents and Col. 1
gun, the Indians signified an apparexifl
quiescence, and the conference ctael
mutual professions of I
mines were accordingly occupied, (I
part, however, as Col. Johnston th”l
proper to select) and after an exprriJ
hr two, tiie mineral was found to equa®
high expeefions previously entertaic®
it“ excellent quality-
Mr. F. stales that a destructive “'.•I
ist at this time among the Sfouks arid I
es, and the Sious Indians of the inreii®
The Sauks and Foxes had taken tlwl
to the numberjifabout6oo men,and®
party of those Indians had retained to®
village, at the head of the Rapids ottfl
.Ylmne, on the 17th inst. bringing wi-’hß
twenty scalps and 14 children a* prisiH
taken from the Sioux. The Faek-B
Foxes last one man on the field of™
and brought home 6 or 7 wounded, ol
whom is since dead. i
Whether horrid Piracy. —( , :phF ; B
the schr. Olive, arrived a* this p" r: '■
the Bahamas, informs, that about the■
die of June, the vvreakers had fillefrii®
a ship ashore to windward of RumH
THE CREYV OF WHICH HAD I
CUT TO PIECES, AND YVF.KKF’I
HANGING IN THE RIGGING! ■
wreckers had also picked up a bri? 9 B
near the same place, entirely dese ; B
supposed to have Wien robbed by
rales. The next gang of pirates wi l *
be condemned to be executed in thftß
try for their fiend-like cruelties.
sume will be pardoned.— Com.
Just Received 1
Per ship Gen. Caning ton, from A* Em
1000 lbs sup. Smoked Beef I
Fresh Goshen Butter very good ®
His and half bis superfine Flour I
Lorririvd’s Tobacco, American SegxrsH
Also, 2 cases white Homespuns .1
With a general assortment of Grocer:*
sale on accommodating terms by . ■
I 6 A. A J CHAM *
South side Market J
’ eug 6 e 69 J