News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844, September 09, 1841, Image 1

News & planters' gazette., September 09, 1841, Image 1

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Newspaper Page TextMEWS & PLANTERS’ GAZETTE. 19. fl. COTTLKU, Editor. No. 2.—NEW SERIES.] NEWS & PLANTERS GAZETTE, terms: Published weekly at Three Dollars per annum, if paid at the time of subscribing; or Three Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid till the expi ration of six months. No paper to be discontinued, unless at the option of the Editor, without the settlement of all arrearages. O’ L ’Hers, on business, mu. t be post paid, to insure attention. .Xo communication shall be ■published, unless icc arc made acquainted with the name of the author. TO ADVERTISERS. Advertisements, not exceeding one square, first insertion, Seventy-five Cents; and for each sub sequent insertion, Fifty Cents. A reduction will be made of twenty-five per cent, to those who advertise by the year. Advertisements not limited when handed in, will be inserted till for bid, and charged accordingly. Sales of Land and Negroes by Executors, Ad ministrators, and Guardians, are required by law, to be advertised, in a public Gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. The sales of Personal Property must bo adver tised in like manner, forty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will bo made to the Court of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Ne groes, must be published weekly for four month*; notice that application will be made for Letters ol Administration, must be published thirty days; and Letters of Dismission, six months. AGENTS. THE FOLLOWING GENTLEMEN WILL FORWARD THE NAMES OF ANY WHO MAY WISH TO SUBSCRIBE : T 4- G. H. Wooten, A. D. Slat ham, Danburg, Maitorysville, B. F. Talom, Lincoln- FelLc G. Edwards, Pe- ton, tersburg, Elbert, O. A . Luckett, Crawford (l in. Oner, Raytown, ville, Taliaferro, IT. Davenport, Lexing- James Hell, Powelton, ton, Ilaiicock, .S'. Bash, Irwington, Wm. Ji. Nelms, Elber- Wilkinson, ton, Dr. Cain, Cambridge, John A. Simmons, Go- Abbeville District, shen, Lincoln, South Carolina. 2nffa.il Arrangements. POST OFFICE, t Washington, Ga., January, 1841. \ AUGUSTA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 5, A. M. CLOSES. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at P. M. MILLEDGEVILLE MAIL. ARRIVES. Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. CLOSES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. M. CAROLINA MAIL. ARRIVES. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 11, A. 31. closes. Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, at 8, A. M. ATHENS MAIL. arrives. Sunday and Wednesday, at 9, A. M. CLOSES. Sunday and Wednesday, at 9, A. M. ELBERTON MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Thursday, at 8, P. M. | Thursday, at 8, P. M. LINCOLNTON MAIL. ARRIVES. CLOSES. Friday, at 12, M. j Friday, at 12, M. COTTING & BUTLER, ATTOUNIES, HAVE taken an OFFICE over Cozart & Woods Store. March 11,1841. 28 ,f Sempstress If ‘anted. A LIBERAL price will be given for a J\. SEMPSTRESS of good qualities. Apply at this Office. August 18, IHII. Bt. ‘For Sale, The Subscriber offers for sale, the A-vtjifc premises on the Northeastern corner ■ ■3>|np it the Square, at present occupied by Mr. R. 11. Vickers, as a Tavern. — From ns convenient locality, it is well suited for either a Tavern, private Boarding-house, or a private Residence. Any one disposed to pur chase, can do so upon reasonable terms. JAMES N. WINGFIELD. July 8,1841. 45 For Sale, n i The Subscriber offers for sale his place, within one mile of Raytown, !!!!& in Taliaferro county, situated on j—JJeaverdam Creek, adjoining James Brum. , Esq. and Messrs. Luckett’s. The im provements are good, with a Gin and Gin House. There are about Three Hundred and Sixty A cres in the Tract, and about 175 Acres o! which are woodland. The place is very healthy, and there is a good Spring of Water near the Dwel ling-House. Also .—A Tract of Land in said county, situa ted between Raytown and Washington, on Har den’s Creek, containing One Hundred Acres, adjoining Mr. Joseph Campbell and Mrs. Ran dolph. About 60 Acres of this Tract is Wood land—with some improvements thereon. Any person wishing to purchase the above property can have them on reasonable terms. Apply to TERRENCE ROARK. Raytown, August 18,1841 ts 51 Notice, ALL persons indebted to the Estate of MARK ANTHONY, late of Lincoln county, dec’d, are requested to come forward and make pay ment, and those having demands, are requested to present them in the time prescribed by law, for pavment. ’ MARK S. ANTHONY, Adm’r. ELIZABETH ANTHONY, Adm’x. -T'ilv 29, 1841 6t 48 MISCELLANEOUS* GOVERNMENT OF CHILDREN. Miss Sedgwick, in her beautiful story, entitled Home, has given an illustration of the happy effects which may flow from firm yet just and kind treatment of a disobedi ent child, which is worthy of being borne in mind by every parent. It is as follows : “ The family were assembled in a back parlor. Mrs. Barclay was engaged in some domestic employment, to facilitate which Martha had just brought in a tub of scalding water. Charles, the eldest boy, with a patience unboyish , was holding a skein of yarn for grandmamma to wind; Alice, the eldest girl, was arranging the dinner table in an adjoining room ; Mary, the second, was amusing the baby at the window ; Willie was saying his letters to Aunt Betsey. All were busy ; but the bu siest was little Iladdy, a sweet child of four years, who was sitting in the middle of the room on a low chair, and who unob served by tlie rest, and herself unconscious of wrong, was doing deadly mischief. Site had taken anew, unfinished and very pre cious kite belonging to her brother Wallace, cut a hole in the centre, (burst into it the head of her pet Maltese kitten, and washol ding it by its fore paws and making it dance on her lap ; the little animal looking as de- mure and as formal as one of Queen Eliz abeth’s maids of honor in her ruff. At this critical juncture, Wallace entered in search of his kite. One word of prefatory pallia tion for Wallace. The kite was the finest ho had ever possessed ;it had been en him by a friend, and that friend was, wag ing at the door to string and fly it for him. At once the ruin of tho kite, and the indig nity to which it was subjected, flasned on him, and perhaps little Iladdy’s very satis fied air exasperated him. In a breath, he seized the kitten and dashed it into tho tub of scalding water. llis father had come into dinner, and paused at the open door of the next room. Daddy shrieked, the chil dren all screamed, Charles dropped grand mamma’s yarn, and, at the risk of his own hand, rescued the kitten ; but seeing its ag ony, with most characteristic consideration he gently dropped it again, and thus put the speediest termination to its sufferings. “ ‘The children were all sobbing. Wal lace stood pale and trembling- His eyes turned to his father, then to his mother, then were riveted on the floor. The children saw the frown on their father’s face, more dreaded by them than ever was flogging, or dark closet with all its hobgoblins. “ ‘I guess you did not mean to do it, did you YY'addy ?’ said little Daddy, whose ten der heart was so touched by the utter mis ery depicted on her brother’s face, that her pitty for him overcome her sense of her own and pussy’s wrongs. Wallace sighed deep ly, but spoke no words of apology or justifi cation. The children looked at Wallace, at their father and their mother, and still the portentous silence was unbroken. The dinner boll rang. *Go to your own room, YY’allace,’ said his father. ‘ You have for feited a place among us. Creatures who are the slaves of their passions, arc, like beasts of prey, fit only for solitude.’ “ ‘llow long must YY’allace stay up stairs asked Iladdy, affectionately, holding back her brother, who was hastening away. “ ‘Till he feels assured,’ replied Mr. Barclay, fixing Ids eyes sternly on YY’al lace, ‘that he can control his hasty temper; at least so far as not to be guilty of violence towards such a dear good little girl as you are, and murderous cruelty to au innocent animal ; —till, sir, you can give me some proof that you do dread tiie sin and danger of yielding to your passions so much that you can govern them. The boy is hopeless,’ he added in a low voice, to his wife, as YVallaee left the room. “ ‘My dear luisband ! hopeless at ten years old, and with such a good, affection ate heart as his ? We must have patience.” “ A happy combination for children is there in an uncompromising father and an all-hoping mother. The family sat down to table. The parents were silent, serious, unhappy. The children caught the infec tion, and scarcely a word was said above a whisper. There was a favorite dish upon the tabic, followed by a nice pudding.— They were eaten, not enjoyed. The chil dren realized that it was not the good tilings they had to eat, but the kind looks, the in nocent laugh, and cheerful voice, that made the pleasure of the social meal. “ ‘My dear children,’ said the father, as he took his hat to leave them, we have lost all our pleasure to-day, have we not ? “ ‘1 cs, sir—yes, sir,’ they answered in a breath. “ ‘Then learn one lesson from your poor brother. Learn todread doing wrong. If you commit sin, you must sutler, and all that you love must suffer with you; for every sin is a violation of our Heavenly Fa ther, and he will not suffer it to go unpun ished.’ “ If Mr. and Mrs. Barclay had affected to over-awe and impose on their children, they would not have been longer deceived; for children being themselves sincere, are clearsighted. But they knew that the sad ness was real; they felt that it was in ac cordance with their parents’ character and general conduct. They never saw them rutiled by trifles. Many a glass had been broken, a greasy knife dropped, many a disappointment and inconvenience incurred without calling forth more than a gentle rebuke. These were not the things that moved them, or disturbed the domestic tran quility : but the ill-temper, selfishness, un- WASIHNGTON, (WILKES COUNTY, 0A.,) SEI’TEMBEK ISIS. kindness, or any moral fault of the children was received as an affliction. “ The days passed on ; Wallace went to school as usual, and returned to his soli tude, without speaking or being spoken to. His meals were sent to his room, and what ever the family ate, he ate; for the Barclays took care not to make rewards and punish ments out of eating and drinking, and thus associate the duties of pleasure of a moral and intellectual being, with a mere animal gratification. ‘ But ah !’ he thought, while eating his pie or pudding, “how different it tastes from what it does at table !’ & though he did not put it precisely in that form he felt what it was that‘sanctified the food.’— The children began to venture to say to their father, whose justice they dared not question : ‘ 1 low long has Wally stayed up stairs?’ and Charles, each day eagerly told how well Wallace behaved himself at school. Mis grandmother could not resist her desire to comfort him ; she would look into his room to see ‘if he were well,’ ‘if he were warm enough,’ or ‘if he did not want something.’ The little fellow’s moistening eye and tremulous voice evinced his sensi bility to her kindness, but he resolutely ab stained from asking any mitigation of his punishment. He overheard his Aunt Bet sey leV ‘ Barclay’s sister, say, ‘it is a sin, and besides, to keep Wallace ineweir-,,. so, just for a little flash of tem per. lam sure he had enough to provoke a saint.’ “ YY r e do not keep him mewed up Betsey, j replied Mr. Barclay, ‘nor does he continue mewed up liar one single flash of temper ; ■ but because, with all his good resolutions, his passionate temper is constantly getting the better of him. There is no easy cure forsuch a fault. If YY’allace had tho seeds of a consumption, you would think it the extreme of folly not to submit to a few week’s confinement if it afforded any means of ridding him of them ; and how much worse than the consumption is a moral dis ease ! “ ‘YVell,’ answered the sister, ‘you must do as you like, but I am sure wc never had any such fuss at home ; we grew up, and there was an endon’t.’ “■But may be,’ thought YY’allace, “if there had been a little more fuss when you were younger, it would have been more pleasant living with you now, aunt Betsey.’ “ Poor aunt Betsey, with many virtues, had a temper that made her a nuisance wherever she went. The Barclays’alone got on tolerable well with her. There was a disinfecting principle in the moral atmos phere of their house “ Two weeks had passed, win n M Bar clay heard YY'al lace’s door open, and heard him say, ‘can I speak with you one minute before dinner, sir ?’ “‘Certainly, my son.’ Ilis father en tered and closed the door. “ ‘Father,’ said YVallaee, with a tremu lous voice, hut an open cheerful face, ‘1 feel as if I had a right now to ask you to forgive me and take me back into the family.’ “ Mr. Barclay felt.so too, and kissing him he said, ‘I have oidy been waiting for you, YY’allaco ; and from the time you have ta ken to consider your besetting sin, I trust you have gained strength to resist it.’ “ It is not only consideration, sir, that I depend on, for you told me I must wait till 1 could give you proof; so I had to wait till something happened to try me. I could not possibly tell else, for I always do re solve, when I get over my passion, that I ne ver will get angry again. Luckily for me —for I began to be horribly tired of staying alone—Tom Allen snatched off my new cap and threw it into the gutter. I had my book in my hand, and I raised it to send it at him ; but 1 thought just in time and was so glad I had governed my passion, that I did not care about my cap, or Tom or anything else. But “one swallow doesn’t make a summer,’as aunt Betsey says, so I waited until I should get angry again. It seemed as if I never should ; there were provoking things happened, but somehow or other they did not provoke me—why do you smile, fa ther ?” “ ‘I smile with pleasure, my dear boy, that one fortnight’s resolute watchfulness has enabled you to curb your temper so that you are not easily provoked.’ “ ‘But stay, father ; you have not heard all. Yesterday, just as I was putting up my Arithmetic, which I had written almost to the end without a single blot. Tom Al len came along, and gave my inkstand a jostle, and over it went on my open book. I thought he did it purposely ; I think so still, but I don’t feel sure ; 1 did not reflect then ; 1 doubled up my fist to strike him.’ ‘“Oh Wallace !’ “ But I did not, father; I did not; I thought just in time. There was a horrid choking feeling in my throat, and angry words seemed crowding out : but I did not even say ‘blame you !’ I had to bite my lips though, so that the blood ran.’ “ God bless you, my son.’ “ And the best of it all was, father, that Tom Allen, who never before seemed to care how much harm he did you, or how much he hurt your feelings,was really sor ry ; and this morning he brought me anew blank book, nicely ruled, and offered to help me copy my sums into it. So 1 hope 1 did him some good, as well as myself by governing my temper.’ “ There is no telling, Wallace, how much good may be done by a single right action, nor how much harm by a single wrong one.’ “ I know it, sir, 1 have been thinking a great deal since I have been up stairs, and 1 do wonder why God did not make Adam PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. and Eve so that they could notdo wrong. { “ This subject has puzzled older and wi sor heads than yours, my sun, and puzzled them more than 1 think it should. If we had been created incapableofsin there could have been no virtue. Did you not feel happier yesterday after your trial, than if it had not happened ?’ “ Oyes, father ; and the strangest of all was, that after the first flash, 1 had not anv had feelings towards Tom.’ “ Then you can see in your own ease,’ good resulting from being free to do good or evil. Y r ou certainly were the better for your victory, and you say happier. It is far belter to be virtuous than sinless—l mean incapable of sin. 11 vott subdue your temper, the exercise of the power to do this will give you a pleasure that you could not have had without it. “ But if 1 fail, father ?’ W allace looked in his father s face with an expression which showed that he felt he had more than a kingdom to gain or lose. “ You cannot fail, my dear son, while j you continue to feel the worth of the object i for which you are striving ; while yon feel that the eye of God is upon you ; and that not only your own happiness but the happi ness of your father and mother, and broth ers and sisters, —of our home—depends on your success.”— Fireside Education. From the Patent Sermons of “ Dow, Jr.” ON INTEMPERANCE. • Text.—O that man should put an enemy in his mouth, To steal away his brains.—Siuksit.are. My Hearers :—War and pestilence as you all know, have each, time and again, surfeited the voracious stomach of Death, with millions of their slaughtered victims; but the record of these, occupies only a small space on the dusty catalogue of mor tality, compared with that which is allotted to intemperance, to write down the sum to tal of her annual sacrifices. The broad avenue that leads to eternity, is continually choked up with the dead carcasses of her slain, and thousands are daily being dump ed upon the putrid heap, to lie and rot, in the oblivious fog of forgetfulness. To be wounded, or physically disabled, while fighting for your country, your liberties, and your homes, is a glory and honor ; but to be shot in the neck with a pistol, loaded with the percussive elements of damnation, while you are sleeping upon the watchtow er of virtue, is a sin and disgrace. O that man should put an enemy in his mouth to steal away his brains ! to shrivel up his soul like a dried apple—to destroy that re gu.-.iiur of the intellect, 11 as .... the complicated machinery of the min ~ . run at random, without the guidance of .. single sober reflection ! It does steal away the brains, and leaves instead, a soft, pulpy substance noncomposmentiness, as disgust ing as it is useless ; and I ask, what is man, without a fecundity of’ brains, more than a monkey ? Nothing at all. Ileise ven less ; for the discount levied upon his character, for abusing the confidence of his Maker, places him upon a par with the loathsome reptile, that ever casts its slime on the green carpet of earth. Rum not on ly steals away the brains, but even the breeches, also. Not long since, my friends, I saw a silver-haired man, (perchance the father of lovely daughters,) in a glorious state of don’t-care-a-tiveness ; there was a delightful mingling of heaven and hell, in his head, and any quantity of change in his pockets ; his thoughts were so elevated a hove the things of earth, that he never once deigned to look down and see, that the sin ister leg of his trowsers like his own moral character, hung by a single thread. Not he—ho kept on spouting politics, war, and the best method of parental government, with all the enthusiasm and fire of- a hot whiskey punch, until he was laid upon his bed, shrouded in the pal 1 of a death-warn ing stupor. When the morning broke, and reason again dawned upon the chaos of his senses, and discovered to him that the other tegument of his pantaloons was among the missing, how do you think lie felt then ? Why, with his fist, he committed an assault and battery on his breast, and declared by all the spirits, infernal, terrestrial, and ce | lestial, that he would join the Temperance Society, and become once more a man ; but he resolved and re-resolved; and the last resolution I heard him utter, was when he had two horns in his hand. Yes, with one hand on the horn of a firm resolution never to drink again, and with the other on a horn of brandy, he’d look first on this pic ture, and then on that, till at last the spirit of evil prevailed ; and I fear he will go headlong to destruction, unless I can throw a halter about him, and hold on until he o pens his eyes, and sees the awful gulf that yawns at his feet. Beloved friends: I know of another of the frail human race, who is in the prime of life, and the empire of whose mind, has been planted by Nature, with those trees which bear tho fruit of principle, rather than the fascinating blossoms of sentiment; but the blight of dissipation, has thus early fell up on his fair prospects; and now, one of the noblest works of God is falling to ruin, lor the want of a moral prop to support it, in its last stage of decay. He is now, as it were, slipping down a greased plank, to perdition, lie often sticks in his clutches, and tries to hold on; but finding his physical faculties in a state of prostration, he calls aloud for ‘Joe,’ to bring him another glass of brandy and water, to strengthen his nerves, to ena ble him to meet his fate, with that courage [ which the crisis requires. I lie little black j bottle, which he placed at his bed-side, to J allay all nocturnal delicious tremblings, will ] soon stand empty by his coffin, and with a triumphant smile, exclaim, •* Twas 1 that j did the deed ! ’ i hand him over to the ! protection of a merciful Providence. I know another, whom I venerate for his , white hairs, and respect for his urbanity of j manners, who is so fond of “dog’s noses,” j that I fear the latter end of his existence, will he chopped off as square as a saw-mill log, instead of tapering to that almost im perceptible point, to which the prudent and temperate extend. Instead of repeating the prayers, which his mother had taught him, in his youth, ere he retires to his slumbers, he clasps a spiritual night-cap on his head, sings the song of “Begone dull care,” and bids good night to trouble ; unmindful whether the morrow shall find him dressed in the garments of life, or in the winding sheet of death. O, my dear friends! that visible spirit of hell, called rum, will yet be the ruination ! of this world. 1 see its sad effects upon j j every side ; almost every flower and shrub, in the moral kingdom, is growing pale be- ! noath its withering influence. The few temperance societies that exist, are so ma ny green spots in a boundless desert, de lightful and refreshing to all, excepting to the sore eyed suckers of Bacchus. O, it is passing strange, that the lovers of earth, j j who cling to it with all .the affection of a j | steel-trap, will innoculatc themselves with I this deadly plague, and transmit its poison J to posterity ! 1 have known some babes, to ; have been made drunk with their mother’s ! milk ; but generally speaking, my friends, 1 people make themselves drunk—with their own hands, they sow the tares in their wheat-fields—with their own hands, they thrust the fire-brands in their bosoms, and then curse madamc Fortune, up hill and down, for being partial in the distribution of her favors. 1 can’t think upon the subject without feeling both sick at the heart and ! stomach. A beautiful woman saturated I with alcohol, and with tho froth and scum i of depravity, oozing from her mouth, is a- I bout as disgusting an object as can be found, ! j between Catharine Market and the slop- j j yard of Beelzebub. I My friends, keep sober ; avoid those fa [ tal glasses, at the bottom of which, lie the j sediment of destruction ; drink only at that pure and limpid stream, which flows direct ly from the ever-gushing fountain ofheav ! en, whose waters are refreshing to tho bo dy, nourishing to the soul, and purifying to the heart; and oh, dash down forever, up jon the adamantine rook of resolution, that j seducing goblet, which steals away man’s j brains ; his breeches—his boots—his mor , uis —and his reputation. So mote it be ! Du: ing the heat of the political excite ment last fall, a furious Loco Foeo called at stall No.— Quincy Market, one morning to get something for dinner. Accosting the market man— “ Sir, can you give me something of which to make a good soup ?” “ W’e have some excellent calves’ heads.* “ Are they fresh and good?” “ Yes.” “ Send one to my house.” “ Y es, sir—by the way, we have two kinds—Whig and Loco—which shall I send ?” “ Van Buren, sir ! I don’t want any thing that smells of Whiggery on my table. A Loco Foco calves’ head was according* ilv sent. The cook commenced prepara tions for converting it into soup ; but on o- j polling, it was found that the brains had pro- ! viously been taken out. The master was informed ofit, and in a rage he returned to j the meat vender. “ You rascal ! What do you mean by j selling me a calves’ head without brains ?” : “ My dear sir, you ordered a Loco—of course you did not expect it to contain brains !*’— Charleston'll (Mass.) Chronicle. GOOD ADVICE. Not many hours ago, I heard uncle Ben j jamin discussing this matter to his son, who i was complaining of the pressure : —“Rely j upon it, Sammy,” cried the old man, as he leaned on his staff, with his grey locks flow- i ing in tho breeze of a May morning, “mur muring pays no bills, 1 have been anobser- I ver any time this fifteen years, and I never j saw a man helped out ofa hole by cursing j his horses. Be as quiet as you can, for i nothing will grow under a moving harrow, and discontent harrows the mind. Matters ! are bad, I acknowledge, but no ulcer is any | thing the better for fingering. The more j you groan tho poorer you grow. Repining at losses is only putting pepper j into a sore eye. Crops will fail in all soils and we may be thankful tlrat we have not a famine. Besides I always took notice, that whenever I feel the rod pretty smartly, it was as much to say, ‘here is something which you have got to learn. Sammy, don’t forget that your scolding is over yet ; though you have a wife and two children. “ Aye,” cried Sammy, “you may say that and a mother-in-law and two apprenti ces into the bargain ; and 1 should like to know what a poor man can learn here when the greatest scholars and lawyers arc at loggerheads, and can’t for their lives tell what has become of the hard money.” “ Softly Sammy, I am older than you. 1 have not got these grey hairs and this crooked back without some burdens. 1 could tell you storiesofthe continental mon ey, when grandfather used to stuff a sulkey box with bills to pay for a yearling or a | wheat fan ? and then Jersey women used I thorns for pins, and laid their teapots away in the garret. You wish to know what you ! 7J . .5 . Hi A B* IE L, B° ri Hr. may learn ? You may learn these seven i things : First—That you have saved too little <Sz . spent too much. 1 n ver taught you to bo Ia miser; but 1 have seen you giving a dol ! lur for a ‘notion,’ when you might have laid onehalf aside for chuti'v, and tho other half j tbr a rainy day. Secondly—That you i have gone too much upon credit. 1 always told you that credit was a shadow, it shows that there is a substance behind,which casts the shadow : but a small body may cast a shadow ; and no wise man will follow the shadow any farther than he sees the sub stance. You mav also learn, that you have followed the opinion and fashions of others, till you have been decoyed into a bog. Thirdly—That you have been in too much haste to become rich. Slow and ea sy wins the race. Fourthly—That no course of life can be depended upon as al j w ays prosperous. 1 am afraid the younger j race of working men in America, have had | a notion that nobody could go to ruin on i this side of the water. Providence has ; greatly blessed us, but we have become presumptuous. Fifthly—That you have not been thankful enough to God for his benefits in times past. Sixthly—That you may be thankful that your lot is no worse, j And lastly—To end my sermon, you may | learn to offer, with more understanding, the j prayer of your infancy,‘Give us this day I our daily bread.’ ” ‘Flic old man ceased, and Sammy put on bis apron, and told Dirk to blow away at the iorge bellows.— Xcwark Advertiser. | We cut the annexed paragraph front a St. Louis paper : A Xortli Carolinian and a Missourian. — ’ Wc accidentally overheard the following | discussion, relative to the character and in j telligcnoe of North Carolina and Missouri. The disputants were deeply imbued with State pride, and contended for superiority in State character, general intelligence and | education. “ Why,” said the North Carolinian, j “ some of your Missouri Legislators can t spell their names correctly ; and 1 actual i lv heard one of them make tho inquiry, in | his place, in the Representatives Hall, what I the gentleman from County, meant by ; a Geological Survey of the State.” Well,” said the Missourian, coolly, “ that reminds me of what/once heard a j member of the North Carolina Legislature I say, in his place, and which I think, you ! will acknowledge, is a fair offset to your ! case, just related. A member from one of | the interior counties of that State, during j the delivery of a speech, relating to the ap j portionrnent bill, under consideration, had j occasion to inquire of the gentleman from Bunkum county, to state, if ho pleased, ! u hat the population of the county he repre j sented was, at the last census. The gen tleman from Bunkum, a little irritated at ■ the supposed implied insinuation, that Bun kum lands were not quite so fertile us some , other portions of the State, rose, and, giving ! the gentleman a contemptuous look, turned ! to the speaker, and observed, “ 1 11 answer 1 you Mr. Speaker, that question, hut not that j man that axed such an unconstitutional question. lie wants to know whats the j population of my county ; he knows, and ] you knows as well as I duz, that it is ‘Tar, pitch and rot inn, and mullen in abundance.” ! “ Now,” said the Missourian, “ which of j the two do you think requires education the most, the man who did not know the differ | ence between population and products of j the country, or he who happened to be ig norant of the meaning of the term.” LUCK. Some persons appear to be always lucky in whatever they undertake, but the secret of this is exposed in an excellent little book called “Hints of Mechanics.” The au thor says, that generally speaking, your | “ luckii fellows” when one searches closely into their history, turn out to be your fcl j lows that know what they are doing, and i how to do it the right way. Their luck i comes to them because they work for it ; it jis luck well earned. They keep them selves wide awake. They make the best of what opportunity they possess, and al j ways stand ready for more ; and when a J mechanic does thus much, depend on it, it J must be hard luck indeed, if he does not get at least, employers, customers, and friends. . French Gallantry. —Gen. Desmoncourt, | though himself of very opposite principles i to those of the Duchess of Berri, thus speaks I of the wretch who betrayed her retreat : “ I would never pass him in the streets without bestowing a horsewhipping on him, did I not think my horse would be degra ded by being afterward touched with the same whip.” Lady Marv Duncan was an heiress, and Sir William Duncan was her physician during a severe illness. One day she told him she had made up her mind to marry, and upon his asking the name of the fortu nate chosen one, she bid him go home and open the Bible, giving him chapter and verse, and he would find out. 11c did so, and thus he read, “Nathan said to David, thou art the man.” A Great Hogue. —Judge Jeffries, of noto rious memory, pointing to a mail with his cane, who was about to be tiicd, said “ There’s a great rogue at the end of my cane.” The man to whom he pointed, looking at him, said, “At which end my Lord. [VOLUME XXVII.