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NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
. U. HOTTING, Editor.
ISo. 36.—NEW SERIES.]
NEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE.
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ton, Dr. Cain, Cambridge,
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Mail Arrangements.
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Washington, Ga., January, 1841. y
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——————l
03= There will be a three day’s
Meeting in this place Jit the Methodist Episcopal
Church, commencing Thursday night the 6th
day of May next; to be protracted ii circum
stances authorize. April 15,1841.
COTTING & BUTLER,
ATTORMES,
HAVE taken an OFFICE over Cozart &
Woods Store.
March 11,1841. 29
’ new goodsT
THE Subscriber has just received from New
York, anew and handsome assortment of
Muslins, Calicoes, Linens, Lawns, Hosiery,
Ribbons, Fancy Shawls, Broadcloths,
Cassimers, Summer Cloths, and
Georgia Nankeens.
lie also keeps on hand, a general assortment of
Hardware, Cutlery, Crockery, Saddlery,
’ Hats, Shoes, Drugs and Medicines,
School Books and Stationary,
GROCERIES, &c.
All of which will be sold on reasonable terms
for Cash or credit.
A. A. CLEVELAND.
April 15, 1841. 4t 33
Dividend .Vo. 46.
BANK STATE OF GEORGIA, >
Savannah, 23d April, 1841. ]
TITHE Board of Directors having this day de
dared a Dividend, No. 46, of $3 50 per
share on the Capital Stock of this Bank for six
months ending on 3d instant, the same will be
paid to the respective Stockholders thereof, or to
their order, on and after Wednesday next
A. PORTER, Cashier,
jl 29. 3t 35
” \~
- For Sale.
iijfUrftTl A first-rate young HORSE, in
JIliJ good condition, large, and used to
* the Plough. Apply to the Printer
of this paper.
April 29,18(1. 35
From the Brother Jonathan.
THE DEATH OF HARRISON.
BY N. P. WILLIS.
What! soar'd the old eagle to die at the sun!
Lies he stiff with the spread wings at the goal
he had won!
And there spirits, more blest than the planet of
even,
Who mount to their zenith, then melt into Hea
ven—
No waning of fire, no auenrhimr of rav
.>n, using, tun using, wnen passing away :
Farewell, gallant Eagle ! thou'rt buried in light!
God-speed unto Heaven, lost star of our night!
Death ! Death in the White House ! Ah, nev
er before,
Trod his skeleton foot on the President’s floor!
He is look’d for in hovel, and dreaded in hall—
The king in his closet keeps hatchment and
pal!—
The youth in his birth-place, the old man at
home,
Make clean from the door-stone the path to the
tomb ;
i But the lord of this mansion was cradled not
here—
’ In a church-yard far oft’ stands Ins beckoning
bier !
He is here as the wave-crest heaves flashing on
high—
As the arrow is stopp’d by its prize in the sky—
The arrow to earth, and the foam to the shore—
Death finds them when swiftness and sparkle
are o’er.
But Harrison’s death fills the climax of story —
He went with his old stride—from glory to glory!
Lay his sword on his breast! There’s no spot
on its blade
j In whose cankering breath his bright laurels
will fade !
’Twas the first to lead on at humanity’s call—
It was stay’d with sweet mercy when “ glory”
was all!
As calm in the council as gallant in war,
He fought lor his country, and not its “ hurrah !”
In the path of the hero with pity he trod—
Let him pass with his sword to the presence of
God !
What more ! Shall we on, with his ashes ! Yet,
stay !
He hath rul’d the wide realm of a king, in his
day!
At his word, like a Monarch’s, went treasure and
land—
The bright gold of thousands has pass’d thro’ his
hand—
Is there nothing to show of his glittering hoard 1
No jewel to deck the rude hilt of his sword—
No trappings—no horses I —what had he, but
now 1
!On !—on with his ashes ! —lie left but his
plough !
Brave old Cincinnatus ! Unwind ye his sheet!
Let him sleep as he liv’d— with his purse at his
feet!
Follow now, as ye list! The first mounter to
day
Is the nation—whose father is taken away !
Wife, children and neighbor, may moan at bis
knell—
He was “ lover and friend” to his country, as
well!
For the stars on our banner, grown suddenly dim,
Let us weep, in our darkness—but weep not for
him!
Not for him—who, departing, leaves millions in
tears !
Not for him—who has died full of honor aud
years !
Not for him—who ascended Fame’s ladder so
high
From the round at the top he has stepp’d to the
sky!
It is blessed to go when so ready to die !
TiIBCELLAi\EOI)S.
gossiping.
The following is exquisite—alas ! that
it should be—for its truth. We publish
it in the hope that it may reach some who
arc guilty perhaps from mere thoughtless
ness, of the odious practice there set forth.
The mirror thus held up with such excel
lent tact, must reflect too detestable a pic
ture to be endured for a moment. It is cop
ied from a late work by Miss Sedgwick, cal
led Means and Ends—from the section “On
Conversation.”
The most prevailing faultof conversation
in our country, and I believe, in all social
communities, is gossiping. As weeds most
infest the richest soils, so gossiping most a
bounds amidst the social virtues in small
towns, where there is the most extended
mutual acquaintance, where persons live in
the closest relations, resembling a large fam
ily circle. To disturb the sweet uses of the
little communities by gossiping, is surely
to forfeit the benefit of one of the kindest
arrangements of Providence.
In great and busy cities, where people
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING.
WASHINGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, GA.,) MAY 6, IS 11.
live in total ignorance of their neighbours,
where they cannot tell how they live, and
hardly know when they die, there is no
neighbourhood, and there is no gossiping.
But need there be this poisonous weed o
mongthe flowers—this blight upon the fruit,
my young friends ?
You may understand better precisely
what comes under the head of gossiping, if ;
1 give you some examples of it.
In a certain small thickly settled town,
there lives a family, consisting ofa man, his
wife, and his wife’s sister. Me has a little
shop, it may be a jeweller s, saddler's, shoo
maker’s or what we call a store —no mat
te- ...l.tel, since ho earns enough to live
most comfortably, with the help ot Ins wife
and sister, who are noted for their industry
and economy. One would think they had
nothing todo but to enjoy their own com
forts, and aid and pity those less favored
than themselves. But instead of all this,
they volunteer to supervise all the sins, fol
lies, and short comings of tl.eir neighbors.
The husband is not a silent partner. He
does his full share of the low work of this
gossiping trio. Go to see them when you
will, you may hear the last news of every
family within half a mile. For example,
as follows :
“ Mr. gave one hundred and fifty
dollars for this new wagon, and he had no
need of anew one ; the old one has not run
more than two years.”
“ Mrs. , has got anew hired help ;
but she won’t stay long ; it’s come and go
there.”
“ Mrs. , had another new gown at
meeting yesterday, which makes the fifth
in less than a year, and every one of tier
girls had new ribbands on their bonnets ;
it is a good tiling to have rich friends ; but,
for my part, I had rather wear my old rib
bands.”
“There go Sam Bliss’s people with a
barrel of flour ; it was but yesterday she
was at the Judge’s begging.”
“ None of the widow Day’s girls were at
meeting ; but they can walk out as soon as
the sun is down.”
■ This is but a specimen of the talk of
these unfortunate people, who seem to have
turned their home into a common sewer
through which all the sins and foibles of the
neighborhood run. Yes; but their minds
have run to waste, and there is some taint,
I fear, at their hearts.
The noted gossip Miss , makes a
visit in a town where she lias been previous
ly a stranger. She divides her time a
mong several families. She is social, and
what we think is mis-called agreeable ; for
she is perpetually talking of persons and
things. She wins a too easy confidence,
and she returns home with an infinite store
of family anecdotes. She knows that Mr.
and Mrs. So-and-so, who are supposed to
live happily, are really on bad terms, and
that he broke the hearts of two other women
before he married his wife ; she knows the
particulars, but she has promised not to tell.
She has found out that a certain family,who
for ten years have been supposed to live
verv harmoniously with a step-mother, are
really eminently wretched. She heard
that Mr- , who apparently is in very
flourishing circumstances, has been on the
brink of bankruptcy for flic last ton years,
&c. &c. Could this woman find nothing
in visiting anew scene to excite her mind
but such trumpery ? We have given you
this example to show you that the sin of
gossiping pervades some communities.—
This woman did not create these stories.
She heard them all, the individuals who
told them to her, little thinking that they in
turn would become the subjects of similar
remark to the very persons whose affairs
they were communicating.
What would we think of persons who
went about collecting for exhibition, exam
ples of the warts, wens, and cancers, with
which their fellow beings were afflicted ?
And yet, would not their employment be
more honorable, more humane, at least than
this gossip-monger’s ?
We have heard such talk as follows, be
tween ladies, wives, and mothers, the wives
of educated men, and persons who were
called iducated women :
“ Have you heard that Emma Ellis is
going to Washington ?” “To Washing
ton ! how on earth can the Ellises afford a
winter in Washington ?” “ Oh, you know
they are not particular about their debts,
and they have six girls to dispose of, and
find rather a dull market here.”
“ Have you heard the Newtons are going
to the country to live ?” “ Bless me !no ;
what’s that for ?” “ They say, to educate
their children ; but my dress-maker, Sally
Smith, who works for Mrs. Newton, says
she is worn out with dinner parties. Ho
runs the house down with company.”
“ Oh, I suppose they are obliged to go to
economize. You know she dresses her
children so extravagantly. I saw Mary
Newton at the Theatre (she is no older than
my Grace,) with a diamond ferronier.”
“Diamond, was it? Julia told me it
was an aqua-marina. The extravagance
of gome people is shocking! I don’t won
| der the men are out of patience. Don’t
tell it again, because Ned Miller told me in
confidence. He actually has locked up
all his wife’s worked pocket handkerchiefs.
Well, whatever else my husband com
plaias of, lie can t find fault with my ex
travagance.”
Perhaps not! but faults far more heinous
than extravagance this poor woman had to
account for —the pernicious words for which
we must be brought into judgment.
1 hope it may appear incredible to you
my young friends, ihat women, half way
through this short life, with the knowledge
of their immortal destiny, with a world
without them, and a world w ithin to ex
j
plorc and make acquaintance with, with
| the delightful interests and solemn respon- 1
sibilities of parents upon them, should so
dishonor God’s good gift of the tongue,
should so waste tlicir time, and poison so
cial life. But be on your guard. If your
minds are not employed on higher objects,
and your hearts on better things, you will
talk idly about your friends and acquain
tance.
The habit of gossiping begins in youth.
I once attended a society of young persons,
from thirteen to seventeen years of age,who
met for benevolent purposes.
“ Is this reading or talking afternoon ?”
asked one of the girls,
j “ Reading,” replied the President!” and
I have brought Percy’s Reliques of Eng
lish Poetry to read to you.”
“ Is not that light reading ?” asked Julia
Ivors. “ Those are old ballads and songs.”
“ A cs, I suppose it will bo called light
reading.”
Julia, who had the lightest of all minds,
and the most voluble of tongues, preferred
talking to any reading, and without loss of
time, she began to a knot of girls, who too
much resembled her.
“Did you notice Matilda Smith last Sun
day ?”
“Yes, indeed; she had on anew silk
dress !”
“ That is the very thing I wanted to find
out, whether you were taken in with it. It
was nothing but her old sky-blue dyed.”
“ Can that be ? why she lias worn it ever
since she was thirteen. 1 wonder I did not
see the print of the tacks.”
“ I did,” interposed another of the Com
mittee of Investigation. “ I took a good
look at it as she stood in the door. She
couldn’t deceive me with aunt Sally’s wed
ding sky-blue dyed black.”
“ 1 don’t think Matilda would care wheth
er you were deceived or not,” said Mary
Morris, the youngest member of the Socie
ty, coloring up to her eyes.
“Oh! I forgot, Mary,” said Julia Ivors,
“ that Matilda is your cousin.”
“ It is not because she is my cousin,” re
plied Mary.
“ Well, what is it then ?”
Mary’s tears dropped on her work, but
she made no other reply. She had too
much delicacy to proclaim her cousins pri
vate good deeds ; and she did not tell how
Matilda, having had a small sum of money,
which was to have been invested in anew
silk gown, gave it instead, to her kind
“ aunt Sally,” who was sinking under a
long indisposition, which her physician said
“ might be removed by a journey.” It
was; and we believe Matilda cared little
how much tiiese girls gossiped about her
dyed frock.
Julia Ivers turned the conversation by
saying, “ Don’t you think it strange that
Mrs. Sandtord lets Maria ride out with
Walter Isbel ?”
“ Yes, indeed ; and what is worse yet,
accepts presents from him.”
“ Why ! does she ?” exclaimed Julia,
staring open her eyes, and taken quite a
back by another person knowing a bit of
gossip which had not yet reached her ears.
“ Yes, she does ; he brought her three
elegant plants from New-York, and she
wears a ring which he must have given
her : for you know the Sandfords could not
afford to buy such things ; and besides,
they never do.”
I have given but a specimen of various
characters and circumstances that were
discussed, till the young gossips were in
terrupted by a proposition from the Presi
dent. thattlie name of the society should be
changed ; “for,” as she said, “the little j |
charities they did with their needles, were ! |
a poor offset against the uncharitablencss :
of their tongues.” j’
There is a species of gossiping uggrava- j
ted by treachery ; but, bad as this is, it is ;
sometimes committed more from thought- !
lessness than from malice. A girl is invi-j,
ted to pass a day, a week, or a month, it j
may be, in a family. Admitted to such an
intimacy, she may see and hear much that
the family would not wish to have reported, j
Circumstances often occur, and remarks j
arc made, from which no harm would come j
if they were published to the world, provi
ded what went before and came alter could !
i
likewise be know n ; but taken out of their ;
connection they make a false impression. !
It is by relating the disjointing circumstan- |
cos, and repeating fragments of conversa- j
tions, that so much mischief is done by those j
admitted into the bosom ofa family.
You know that with the Arabs, parta
king salt is a pledge of fidelity, because the
salt is a symbol of hospitality by never nia- j
king any disparaging remarks or idle com
; munications about those in whose families j
i you are received. I know persons who [
j will say unblushingly, “I amsurc that Mr. i
!So and So is not kind to his wife. ” I saw j
j enough to convince me of it when I was j
j there. “ Mrs. S. is very mean in her fam- j
j ily.” “ llow do you know that ?” “I am
j sure I ought to know, for I staid a month in j
j her house.” “If you wish to be convinced ’
I that Mrs. L. lias no government over her
children, go and stay there a week as I did.
“ Tlicß.’s and their family try to live hap
-1 pily together! but if you were in their fam
ily as much as I am, you would see that
there is no love lost between them.
Nowjyou perceive my young friends, that j
the very reason which should have sealed
this gossip’s-lips, is adduced as tiie ground
of your faith in her evil report.
I have dwelt long on this topic of gossip- j
ing my young friends, because, as 1 said
j before, 1 believe it to boa prevailing fault
jin our young and social country. The on
ly sure mode of extirpating it is by the cul
tivation of your minds and the purification
of your hearts.
All kinds and degrees of gossiping arc as
distasteful to an elevated character, as
gross and unwholesome food is to a well
trained appetite.
From the Baltimore Sun.
EXECUTION OF A MURDERER.
His Confession —His Extraordinary Resus
citation.
John White, convicted of die murder of
Messrs. Gwatkins and Glenn, on board aj
flat boat, on the Ohio river, was executed
! at Louisville, Ky., on the Btli inst., a little j
j after six o’clock in the morning. The !
Judge in sentencing him adjudged liis exc- ■.
cution to take place at any time between j
the hours of CA. m. and 3 p. m., and the
SheritT, without making the fact notorious,
chose the earliest moment so as to prevent
the immense crowd which would have been
in attendance from witnessing it. But few
persons were therefore present. lie died
bard—the rope not “ playing” well, occa-
sioning the not to slip over his chin instead
of being under his ear. His neck was not
broken by the fall. Previous to his death
| he wrote a letter to his father, in which lie
j stated that he was present when the unfor
tunate men were murdered, that lie did not
participate in the act, but was compelled to
beg his own life from the torn who murder
ed them. Ho name® the men as Charles j
Short and Jerry , surname not given. J
He was cut down after hanging about twen- i
ty-five minutes, and his body given over to j
the doctors for the purpose of experiment.
The Louisville City Gazette gives the an
nexed extraordinary circumstances atten
ding an experiment with the galvanic bat
tery :
White's Resuscitation, or Wonders of
Magnetism. —lt is generally considered
that White's execution, yesterday, was not
in the most approved style, for the mere
pleasure of the operation. The knot by
some manceuver instead of being fixed by
his ear, where it would have facilitated
the breaking of his neck, happened to come
in his face, by which means the choking
was of the most imperfect sort. lie hung
squirming and kicking a long time before
he surrendered, and occasionallygave forth
blasts from his mouth and nostrils.
After hanging about twenty-two minutes
he was cut down and conveyed away, to be
experimented upon by Philosophers and
Anatomists. Ho was an excellent subject for
experimenting upon, as the execution was
such that no disorganization had taken
place. The face of the corpse did not look
half so bad as they generally do, and in
11. .1. K APPEL, Printer.
fact bn was considered not much ditlercnt
from a man twenty minutes drowned.
The poles ofa powerful Galvanic pile,
which had been prepared for the occasion,
were immediately applied to him, and to the
unutterable joy of all present, with the most
perfect success. On the first application
of the fluid to his body, which was yet
warm and trembling, a universal tremor
seemed to pass over bis frame, and fancy,
if fancy you can, tiic surprise, the astonish
ment of all, w hen of a sudden he arose upon
j his bench to a sitting posture, and w ith
j great eagerness and impatience raised his
| hands to his neck, trying to grasp the scarin
1 his flutters and tear it from his throat! Ho
: first snatched at it with great rashness, as
j though the rope was yet round his neck,
| and then continued some moments picking
j at the seam with his fingers, as though it
j was something that adiieared to his throat
I giving him great uneasiness. But this
; symptom was so >n forgotten, for almost the
next moment, lie arose upon his ieet, raised
j his arms level with liis breast, and opening
| liis blood shot eyes, gave forth from liis
| mouth a most terrific screech, after which
j liis chest worked as if in respiration, in a
j very violent maimer. Every one at this
minute was as mute as death, every breath
j was for a moment suspended, when Dr. D.
j exclaimed, “by heaven’s, lie s alive ! Too
great was the excitement, too intense and
I 53
j absorbing was the interest and w onder, en
j joyed and felt by all, to allow time or atten
-1 tion fora reply to the remark. Every eye
j was rivetted upon the agitated and shaking
| corpse. The operator continued to let
I upon it a full quantum of galvanic fluid,
! till the action upon its nerves becoming so
| powerful that it made a tremendous bound,
leaping, by a sort of an imperfect plunge,
into a corner of the room, disengaging it
self entirely from the wires which commu
nicated the galvanism,
i All immediately drew around the body.
For a moment after its fall, it seemed per
i fectly motionless and dead. Dr. I'. ap
i preached, and taking hold of his arm, an
| nounced that he thought lie felt a slight,
i though single beat of the pulse. The
! galvanic operator was just going to arrange
I his machine to give him another charge,
! when Dr. D. again exclaimed, ‘die is—he
is alive ! he sighs ! he breathes!’’ And true
enough, he did sigh ; lie gave a long gasp,
at the same time raising and gently wa
ving his right hand. 11 is sighs continued
for a couple of minutes, when they ceased
entirely, llis whole frame seemed to be
somewhat agitated ; his chest heaved ; his
legs trembled, and lie occasionally raised
bis right arm. These effects were sup
posed to be caused by the powerful influ
ence of the galvanic fluid upon the nerves.
None of these movements were yet sup
j posed attributable to the action of life. It
was considered that the animating princi
ple of nature had left his frame and could
never be again restored. Why not? are
| not people who have been longer deprived
| oflife than he had been, often times res
! tored ? Then why may lie not be resusci
tated ? were questions that seemed to en
gage the minds of all. In the very height of
anxiety and suspence, Dr. D. announced
that lie could feel feeble pulsation. A
piece of broken looking glass was immedi
ately held before his nostrils, which was
instantly covered with a cloud. “He
breathes ! he breathes !”vvas the unanimous
shout. All was the most intense anxiety
for some soconds, when the motion of his
chest, as in the act of respiration, became
visible. “His pulse,” said Dr. D. “does
now certainly beat; lo !” he at the same
instant, exclaimed, “lie opens his eyes 1”
And horrible, indeed, were those eyes to
look upon ! lie rolled them wildly in their
sockets,occasionally closing them, and giv
ing most terrific scowls. In about five
minutes his breathing became tolerably
frequent; probably he would give one
breath where a healthy man would give 4.
11 is breathing, however, rapidly increased,
m frequency and strength. Dr. D. began
to speak to him, but he gave no indications
that he heard a word. lie looked upon the
scene around him, with the most dcathlv
indifference, seemingly alive to nothing.
A pin was tried upon his foot. Ho moved
his foot, though not very suddenly, and re
sented the act with a horrible frown, but a
frown containing something of sadness.
His action soon began to partake of a more
energetic character. He began again to
feel of his neck, and work his body, as tho’
in tho severest agony. Young L., a medi
cal student of Dr. S. approached him, and
taking hold of his arm and shoulder, White
rose upon his feet, took two steps, being thus
supported, and seated himself in an aruv
[VOLUME XXVI.