The southern Whig. (Athens, Ga.) 1833-1850, October 22, 1836, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

BY JAMES W. JOKES. The Southern Whig 1 , PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. TEiilllS. Three dollars per annum, payable within six months after the receipt of the fn st number, or four dollars if not paid within the year. Sub scribers living out of the State, will be expect ed in all cases, to pay in advance. No subscription received for less than one year, unless the money is paid in advance; andne paper will be discontinued until all arrear ages are paid, except at the option of the pub lisher. Persons requesting a discontinuance oftheir Papers, are requested to bear in mind, a aetteinent oftheir accounts. Advertisements will be inserted at the usual rates; when the number of insertions is not specified, they will be continued until ordered out. J-y- All Letters to the Editor or Proprietor, on matters connected with the establishment, must be post paid in order to secure attention. Notice of the sale of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guardians, must be published sixty days previous to the day of sale. The sale of personal Property, in like manner, must be published forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to debtors and creditors of an estate must be published forty days. Notice that Application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for Leave to sell Land or Ne g.oes, must be published four months. Notice that Application will be made for Letters jo administration, must be published thirty days and Letters of Dismission, «ix months. PROSPECTUS ©F THE SOTIFSIOST THI S paper formerly edited by Win. E. Jones, is now under the direction of (he undersigned. The growing importance of At h- W>s, the state of parties in Georgia, and the agitaiioiiWf certain questions having a direct influence on southern interests; render it neces sary that the northwestern part of Georgia should have some vigilant, faithful sentinel always on the watch tower, devoted to a strict construct ion ofthe true spirit ofthe constitution, the maintuinaiicc of .he rightsand sovereignty <<t the States, the -retrenchment of executive patronage, reform*and a strict accountability ’h e;ld UW *A r^'i -i^e 9 -was-& setdownlwP* affairs, and proved himself the 1 ■he taining her Indians lands, and or our present members of Congrei I , question on Indian affairs, in wh< ed, was about to be decided, he 1< just learned from home the death nate, and there, in a most able . Georgia, and procured for her a ; To Georgians the undersigned is conscious he appeals not in vain fognu increase ofpatron * age—and he respectfully asks the friends of constitutional liberty to make an effort, to ob tain subscribers. The S mthern Whig is published weekly ir. A (hens Georgia, at 'Three Dollars per annum payable in advance, Three Dollars and fifty cents if not paid within six months, or Four it' not paid until the end of the year. J. W. J ONES. Athens, Aug. 8,1836. THE lA»2AX’S P WACEA, the cure of Rheumatism, Scrofula or King's Evil, Gout, Sciatica or Hip Gout, Incipient Cancers, Salt Rheum, Siphihtic and mercurial diseases, particularly Ulcers and painful affectioss of the bones, Ulcerated Throat nnd Nostrils, Ulcers of every description, Fever Sores, and Internal Abscesses, Fistulas, Piles, Scald Head, Scurvy, Biles, Chronic Sore Eyes, Erysipelis, Blotches, and every variety of 'Cu taneous Affection; Chronic Catarrh; Headache, proceeding from an acrid humor; Pam in the Stomach and Dyspepsia proceeding from Vitia tion; Affectionsofthe Liver; Chronic Infiama tion ofthe Kidneys, and general debility caused by a torpid action of the vessels of the skin. It is singularly efficacious in renovating those con stitutions which have been broken down by in judicious treiitmsnt, or juvenile irregularities. In general terms, it is recommended in all those diseases which arise from impurities of the blood, or vitiation of the humors, of whatever name or kind. Some of the above complaints may require some trifling assistant applications, which the circumstances ofthe case will dictate; but for a general remedy or jnirijicator, to remove the cause, The Indian’s Panacea will generally be found suffiicicnt. For sale by REESE & LORD. May 14 2 if, CAREY’S LIBRARY OF CMOICF FFFFXtJFFUItF, IT AS now completed its first Si.y Months of publication, and the publishers oiler the io lowing works in testimony of the fulfilment of the promises made to the public in the jri»in al prospectus. Life of Sir James Mackintosh, by his Son Kincaid’s Rifle Brigade. Characteristics ot Hindustan,by Miss Roberts One in a Thousand, by G P. R. James Rienzi, by E, L. Bulwer. Random Recollections of the House of Com mons. The Second Volume has commenced with Selections from The Dramas of Joanna Baillie nnd Con/eiswns and C-imes, or Posthumous Re. cords of a London Clergyman— n work rcsem bling in style, and supposed to be by the same author as the celebrated Tales from the Duiry of a Physieian, J The First Volume can be had separate, with out subscribing to the work, " of §2 to The Library is published aflH Twenty imperial octavo p:i Advertiser, which tind is bound up at the end of everyvotume’ Price per annum, in advance, $5, Address, E. L. CAREV &A. HART, Or, LOUIS A. GODEY, Philadelphia. CLUBBING. A remittance of Five Dollars will command the first volume of the Library and the AZarrv att Novels, complete in 8 numbers, containing Peter Simple—Jacob Faithful—Pirate and Three Cutters—King’s Own—Newton Foster —Pacha of Many Tales—and Japhet m Search c 1 his Father—or First Volume of Library and Lady's Book. (C>- Papers exchanging with the Library will c »nfer a favor by inserting the above. LAW ' For Sale at this Office, • ' , ... From the. New-Haven Palladium. The Stranger’s Grave. The subject of the foilowi ig lines is not the mere‘coinage of the brain.’ Tile‘Stranger’s Grave,’is a beautiful grove about, a mile from Poughkeepsie. Sleep, stranger, sleep! the deep low wind is singing Its dirge-like song above thy lonely bed; Sleep, stranger, sleep! pale forest flowers are springing, To droop like mourners o’er thy clay-cold head. Rest, stranger, rest! perchance thy friends are keeping Long vigils in a distant land for thee; Cheeks have waxed pale, and eyes been dim with weeping For the lone wanderer o’er the distant sea. Where was thy home? was it amid the blushing Low rose-clad cottages, to England dear? Was it where Spain’s dark mountain streams are gushing? Where was it stranger? now we know’t is here. Perchance whilst thou unwept, unknown, wert dying, Love’s eyes were strained thy wished-for j form to see; And whilst thou, stranger, calmly here art lying, I There rises wiki, heart-broken prayer for i thee. They may not know (those friends) how thou art sleeping, Thy sleep no waking knoweth, lonely here— They might net know how stranger’s hands were heaping The clods upon the form they held so dear. And was it meet no requiem o’er the saying. No friend to weep, no mother Io deplore; Strange hands thy limbs in their last garb ar raying, Thou shouldst be hurried on a siranger shore? ’ Ah! who may tell how thy young heart was , swelling With lofty hopes of wealth and high command? ] W as’t this that lured t’.iee from some peaceful , dwelling, To die a stranger in our forest land? W hat is thy wealth? the ground on which thou ’rt lying, And what thy fame! alas! a nameless tomb; Lone one, methinks there’s kindness in denying, To thy far friends a knowledge of thy doom, m one ot ■ss well know, l " is low - vave ’ as slu,u •ch Georgia was greauv <** , . , ~. . . _ ” / nument-paved aisle; left ins room of affliction, havi»- 0 , ;nsword cu:n . i of a child, and went to the Se- : speech, vindicated the rights of •tojle. favorable issue of the question. -jv® Admires the deadt, A,little «iduud wiyAe grass aiiu flowers are playing, * | Is all that marks the lowly bed. From the Knickerbocker. SETTLE »F tatwkx B«6OK. a passage in of ‘ Whit hallows lR? e ’Tis not the sculpt when asked In dews that heavens far I porters wh( 1 heir turf max bloom. 1 ’ ca District of 1 Every incident connected wj‘ shewing, no ij ly history of our cmfflirjyiij’- i pie, who clt ; or of our forefathers he has ass comes down to us with ■fcff : T M. ’ self-love, and all the We love to dwell, for reasons better felt than explained, on the deeds of our sires, and the times that tried their souls. There is something hallowed in the associations which gather around us. while reflecting on those instances of devotedness and chi valrous patriotism which distinguished their acts—a feeling almost of devotion. Too many of those deeds have gone down ito oblivion ‘ unhonored and unsung;’ and ; if perchance a fragment of the past is I snatched front the grasp of Time, it excites in us sentiments the more sacred from the lapse of years. But there was a period in our country’s I story, beyond that in which our forefathers struggled to make us a free and happy j people—a time whose history is but faintly chronicled—-when the sufferings of our pioneer ancestors were unwept and unre quited. That epoch would seem to have been swallowed up in the interest of the events which followed; yet those earlier periods afford us examples ot unparalleled sufferance and unmatched heroism. It wal a gloomy era, when the fair face of our country was every where a dark wilderness—whenour pilgrim fathers were at all times surrounded by the beasts and the savages of the forest—and when all was rude and cheerless. In the progress . of scenes, from that time forward, many and dangerous were the vicissitudes by which they were marked. The eternal solitude which gave place to the busy ham of the settler, and the nessthat disappeared vs c ! ■ ■' ’ .’ "i fc lliade b> y.-jBEt. )W ; - ' ■"I . i’ra'O liis 4 *. ■ « • his tiidLv ./. .. ; pos se . Jr '.llll- iir^^Bk'’ 4 ,. *'"** v Jpuml his game I ' el | Ins ' , in bis neigh- I homing and right ful lord a st eret hate against th^of his grievances. As he gathered around his council-lire, and reflected on the stram r cr’s encroachments, or listened to the coinplaints ofhisbre ' thren, and the exciting eloquence of his I chiefs, his soul began to kindle within him “WHERE POWERS ARE ASSUMED WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN DELEGATED, A NULLIFICATION OF THE AST IS THE RIGHTFUL REMEDY.” JejferSOH. and his bosom to swell with rage. Alrea dy had the numbers of the pale faces be come alarming, and their bold hardihood inspired a spirit of dread. The fearful missiles which the stranger so dexterously | used, above all, excited his fears, and de- ( terred him from manifesting his resent ment. Continued irritation, however, .over comes apparent impossibilities, and gradu ally wears away the most obstinate objec tions. The canning of the savage was deemed a match for his enemy; his fleet ness, his distant retreats, and his poisoned arrows, were presented by the orators to force up his courage to the determined point. Nor was it long before the Indi an’s festering hate broke forth. The war song now resounded along the mountain side. The fearful yell is heard in the dis tance, and each settler prepares himself for the worst. And now it was, that the direful note of death rang along the Con necticut valley, and deeds of blood began to desolate the land. For many years was this pleasant val ley the scene of heroic struggles—of suf fering, and of death. Long did the hardy white man sustain himself against the su perior numbers and the wily arts of the savage; but sadly did he pay the cost of his attachment to the land of his choice, and the endearing associations of home. Frequent and deadly were the conflicts in which he engaged with his implacable enemy. Deep and lasting was the mutual hate of the combatants, and as deep and as artful were their schemes of destruc tion. Victory ofte n crowned the untiring efforts of the foe, when painful captivity or indiscriminate slaughter ensued. To’tell ofthe many murderous deeds and the deep agonies which marked the triumphs of the embittered savage, would long employ the pen. and harrow up the feelings of the soul. To the cruel perseverance of the Indian, in this war of extermination, were added the secret promptings of base cupidity. The Canadian Frenchmen now urged on the brutal force of the not less barbarous foe, by their liberal rewards and legalized bounties for captives and for scalps. Still more powerful motives actuated the red men. while large numbers of the reckless whites joined them in the execution of their most desperate deeds; and it was said that the cruelty and brutality of the Frenchman far exceeded those of the savage wild man. It was thus with our forefathers, when an attack was anticipated from combined forces of the Indians on the little nucleus of farm-houses at the present beautiful vil lage of Deerfield, in Massachusetts. A little army 7 had collected at Hadley, com posed ofthe hardy peasantry’ of the val ley’, determined on decisive and desperate efforts against the common enemy. The produce which had been gathered and housed at Deerfield, was necessary for the support of this band of determined yeo manry, and for the affrighted families who had there congregated; nor was it desira ble that so much valuable substance should fall into the hands of the’indians, the more effectually to enable them to continue their bloody warfare. It was therefore resolv ed, that one hundred choice young men, ’justly denominated ‘the flower ofthe coun- P cnr ,’ should be selected to go with teams, tof (.the face of danger, and transport the ofthe soil from field to ether lie w-ould veto a law freeing Columbia, he disdains to give an answer, the it only that he will not, but that he conceives the ect him, have no right to question him. Besides sociated with him on his ticket, for Vice Presi . Johnson, a man, who has had two negro wives ana c< n f roni them, under the express declare on a neigi. .> by the dense forest with which it was crowned. Here their eloquent chiefs encouraged them, by every effort of language ami of gesture, to deeds of bravery and despera tion. Their plans were matured, and eve ry means devised, which power and strate gy could suggest, to destroy the devoted j band, and to capture the treasures in their / charge. And now their royal leader, with | all the force and enthusiasm which had I characterized the most potent warrior and ! consummate general that the history of . savage life had ever revealed, broke forth, j and thus revealed his great and impas- i sioned mind:* ‘Warriors! see you tlie treasures of the pale faces—-the richest j stores ofthe longknives ! See you the young men, few and feeble, that yonder carelessly stroll in the valley I See you our numbers, and the brave warriors that stand around you, and feel not your hearts strong? Is not your arm powerful, and your soul valiant? And whois hethat goes before you ? Who will direct you in the ambush and the fight ? Is it not he who never knew fear ?—whose heart is like the mountain, and his arm like the for est oak? —the great chief ofthe Naragan setts, whose people are like the leaves, and whose warriors are the terror ofthe pale ! faces I Follow him, and all is yours!— j Each hatchet give a fatal aim—sink deep these knives?—these arrows drink their homes!’ •' l ‘ ,e proud and lofiy ■ ‘g-.L ' y‘*S^‘l < - > ctr!ci(y through the sav . ' ‘.h burned for the affray, ’ : «Lig into the trail of his he glidctl from the ' ’o. iwcred al ng the meadow a vale by the road side. immersed in the luxuriant ■Fndgrass,shrink one th usand warriors, [ iiend-iike exulting in the anticipated victo '• rv and slaughter. Now came the train of ■ I teams, cautiously guarded, us they had ' . *llistorv makes no mention of Kina Philip | being in this part of the country, cither at this or I anv other time; but, from a tradition among the 1 Indians themselves, I am enabled to state, with ’ ! confidence, that this great sachem i»oth cotitriv. 1 ed and led on this attack, ridded to this, is the historical fact, that he was absent from hissoat | at Mount Hope about this time, no doubt lor the purpose of enlisting other tribes in a warfare ’’ against the English; and he probably took tub " vantage of the occasion to display to the tribes s hereabout his success in planning, and his pro- I, wess in buttle. SATiJSIJAr, OCTO3EIX 553, 2 S3<3. . [ been thus fur, by the chosen corps, and . i descended the small hill which conducted ! ; them into the green vale traversed by the I road, and near which lay concealed the • foe, ready to dart on their prey. Tradi tion says that here the noble youths, dream- . ing little of danger from the enemy, rest . ed for the moment, and gathered grapes . from the clustering vines that hung thick . with their rich fruit by the road. When. ; ‘sudden as the spark from smitten steel,’ the thousand savage f irms sprang fr itn their ambush, and with hideous yells rush ed to the onslaught. The vigorous youths, unterrified by the su Iden assault, the veils, or the fearful numbers of the enemy, in stantly rallied, and as quickly brought their rifles to their shoulders They had re ceived the cloud of arrows, as the savages approached within bow-shot of their vic tims, but now, in turn, the fatal lead from a still more deadly weapon made many a warrior bite the ground. The certain aim ofthe young band had told death to as many of the savage clan. Still onward they pressed, over their dead, and thickly hurled their missiles. Again, with deadly aim, the fire ofthe little and determined group of whiles brought down the fore , most of the desperate foe, and threw con fusion into their ranks. A gleam of hope broke through the fearful prospect, and for a moment relieved the doubts which { the overwhelming numbers and fierce des peration of the savages had inspired. But quickly in front was heard the animating voice of their valiant chieftain, and as quick ly did they rally and return the destructive I fire. The noble youths, though with half! their uumbers slain, resolved to sell their lives at fatal cost. Nor was a nerve thrill ed with fear, or a heart disposed to falter, astheirultirnate fate now became too plain ly apparent. Still onward, with brutal force, wrought to madness by the example and the thundering voice of the gigantic Phillip, pressed the exulting foe. To utmost deeds brave Lathorp now inspired the daring band, as each had caught from him the thrilling cry: ‘Our God ! —our homes ! —our country, and our sires!’ Butin an instant, pierced with many arrows, he fails among the slain.— The heroic captain, ‘the bravest ofthe brave,’ now fallen, the enemy express their fiendish joy in loud and terrific veils. The fight thickens, and man conflicts with man. The dying groans ofthe Christian nerves each youthful arm, which still deeper re turns successive blows. Impelled with fury at the destruction which was yet making in their ranks by the alm ist stiperhutnan efforts of the brave whites, they strove, with all the brutality of fiends, to complete their deadly work. At length the number ofthe valiant’ youths was reduced to a solitary few; when the ipremost of these, on turning to animate his comrades, saw himself supported by seven only of his-associates. These, find ing all est '.rts at victory'hopeless, and that l . r.ger warfare would but add to the scalps of the victors, dashed their weapons in the face of the foe, and attempted to escape. Ihe two who stood last in this unequal contest—the most athletic of the chival rous corps—bounding over the slain,took a direction toward the Deerfield river, fol-, lowed by two hundred Indians hurlin; • with almost deadly precision tl:' '‘arrows ! and hatchets. zziiVT r ' inis-j siles urged the power? d reif '' , t' •ir I utmost speed. . One ( ,ft: ,w,. imo ! '*empted to reaca its j B pe°« urrows °* s this, | bottom, fident, f , Wfcaus uiore, s, and L ! id ! JR’“‘‘M--wbeds and! brA*? -<s, he supported himself by the trunk ! of an o'd tree lying on the edge of the j stream, with his face sufficiently elevated : to admit of respiration, until the Indians had relinquished their search for him, con tinually hearing, near by him, their hasty tramp, and fearful yells of disappointment. ■ hen ad was still, and dur.ng the dark i ness of night, he swam across the river; I and, stiti and cold, began his inarch fir I Hadley, where he arrived on the following ■ day, the last and only living witness, as tradition says, of the bailie of Bloody j Brook. Reader, this youth was the wri ! ter’s grandfather! Returning to the spot which history has ! so justly designated as ‘Bloody Brook,’ the I barbarous enemy, on completing their de istruction of life, began that oi the dead. The busy scalping-knife was doing its frightful office, and the naked heads, sever ed from the lifeless trunks, were dancing high in air on the, points of poles. The sickening sight made the less savage foe revolt. Death had not done its last kind duties, when this infernal sport commenc ' ed. The convulsive throe still showed the ; struggle between life and death. The | spouting blood, still warm with life, was I seen to gush forth from the gaping wounds and. trickling along the green-sward, find ,ia repos.lory in the gurgling brook near b>. , I The gory rills were fast purplingthe l.ttle • I stream, and transporting the red tide down ;I to oblivion —the rici est flood that ever i rivulet lore. Ail around was horror, t ir turc, and death; when suddenly appeared, . on the crown of the bill, a large companv , of wbite men, who had come fr. m Green ; field, with all possible haste, to the succor . oftheir brethren. But, alas! it was too • late! The scene we have described was presented instead. Filled with rage and • madness, this furious band rushed°down . the hill upon the brutal force, vet gloating . i in blood, and falling like lions am mg them. A made terrible havoc. Alarmed at tiiisfu [ nous and unexpected assault, the sa\ ages i sprung, with fear and desperate fleelness, I,! from the scene, striving oidv to escape the r death which their barbarity so justlv mer ’’ ited. But full many a warrior fell'bv the j string arm of the vengeful white 'man e I'light alone saved the lew remaining en i emy. e A sad duty now devolved on the fina *' victors. 'Fiiey dug on the spot the sepul ■| chre which to this day contains the com 1 m ngling dust of their youthful brethren i and over its mouth is to be seen a sinovtl I j flat stone, the only humble testim mial <j I posterity. Yes, there by the side of the • road leading from the pretty villages w< : have mentioned, and near the little bro< I - destined to give iinmortality to the event ■ may the curiou; traveller.as he passes thro - the green fields of the Connecticut val'ey, s see the mound which designates the place < where f,sight and sleep the unhnuored , brave. Peace to thy manes, heroic youths' Iny country's history shail preserve thv i memory I it is not a little curious, among the phe , nomen?, of mind, to mark the effect of ex , ternal objects in recalling long-lost im . pres.sions. While standing on the spot • thus hallowed by deeds of bravery, an I • while dwelling on the scenes which the i imagination was picturing before me, I was all at once overwhelmed, as if by a sudden rush of light from the darkness of the past. Circumstances, localities—the realities, in ail the vividness with which they w’ere re lated to me, when but eight vears of age, by my grandsire—started fresh into life. More than thirty years have elapsed since memory recalled one of those impressions, and yet every word that was dropped from the lips ofthat venerated man—his actions —his very look, while relating to me the I affray at Bloody Brook,’came back upon i me more freshly than a dream of yester { night. Every incident ofthat sanguinary fight, than which none in the hist >ry of our country was more fatally decisive, came up from the abyss of time, with all the vi gor and clearness of present vision. He | was then but eighteen years of age—of i pow’crfu! mould, and great muscular ac tivity. The thrilling particulars which he described in his venerable age, thus pre sen ed themselves to my mind, a short time since, on the consecrated spot, t) which neither history nor tradition has yet done justice, ( “TKY CS." Our maiden Banner courts the wind* Its stars are beaming o’er us; Each radiant (bld now unconfined Is floating free before us; Bears a motto, proud and high, For those who dare defy us, And loud shall peal our slogan cry Whe.ne’cr they come to “try us-” The hallow’d ray that freedom gave, To cheer the gloom that bound us, And shine in beauty o’er the bravf, Still brightly beams around us; The (lay our fathers bravely won, Shall long be greeted by us; And loudly through our ranks shall run, The gallant war cry—“try us.” ° ’SK Now fill the , Fill, till the Pour one _ ■ Now stint I W • And ' rJk - . His sprit will The patriot’s bode—the soldier’s shield, Whene’er they come to “try us.” Then give tn” - banner to ths wind, Its stars are beaming o’er us; Its maiden folds now unconfmed, Are floating free before us; w [t bears a motto proud and high, i '•’o' those who dare defy us, A'id fun I shall peal the So'igan cry, | Wneue'er they cerne to“TRY us.” Pass g?s Ira»n Aiosaostic Liic. ' i’V TYNE k. hmhrson. Til cl SEPARA TION. “Young love, which tin their bjidal eve Had pioniised long to stay. } Forgot liis promise, took French leave i And bore ills lamp away.” j “It is in the power of wom an to alienate the I affections of th.- most adoring liusb i id, to p i- I soa liis feelings-to embitter ilia kindliest etno i tto is of his It art, a id, i.i sh nt, to tn ,k ■ him ■ hale bet,” said C’h.nh-S Proctor, as he rose to ! leave his once quiet aid comfort;.ble home. | “You io longer love me, Charivs,” said bi- I wifa, with much asperity of to.ie, as a flush j pass?d over fu r beautiful aid expressive face. “Nots;>,” said h ■, “it has not yet arrived at ; that point, and I ur. ad to thi.ik that there is a ! possi Kitty th d it m ty.” i * “Whi, what have 1 done to bri g about such I a clia.we in vour feelings?” and sue burst i do (tears. Charles was about to r ply. l-it th< i subs of his once d ar and still beautiful Kat ■, i quite u .maimed him, and he sa-k ito tin I chai ’, he was on ’.he point of quitting, without • uttering a syllable. j They sat 1>; g and sullenly apart without I speakt ig. each occupied in diii’ereni roll etio s, | although tending to the same re.-ult—he, won. 1 deriog v. hat dem in could have implanted the ever fretli g th rn of discontent in a heart which he had fondly anticipated would aiw.’S's swc'll v. i'h no otii i' sensations ihan those ot iovo a d dorn stic peace — a doh ■, repi .n , . tlu.tb i-haul ihte should have linked h r i..dis- I soiiiblv to such a m>> st. r. ll'/iiz w.ts this? Charles Procter was a no ; I !)!<’, g.mcrous feliow; he was endowed with J qualities that i b v ited him above his follow > < men io the scale of i il.'il e‘, ami to a ptvpo.s --1 i sessi. <’ and atiraciiw. pel’s m were u.nteii the ' j hiimdest and m st engagi g muaners, Every I body admired him. mid e..vied his easy temper, 1 ; and” the < qn inm.ty with winch ho endureii the inevitable caies and disappoiotmeuls from ’ which the most tbitu ate lot is tot exempt ’ Aid Kate, too, bml re her tn r was a ' bright .toil buova-'t being, singi .g like a luk - from voia liglil. <ssof h t.it, and with features, " ' iorm, tu.d motion, givi ig evidm ce of a dispo- > ' siluui mild, git it!' , and all cI io ato a < that oi s J the sweet bi d she te ,ded with so much c r< . I ' For be; utv, grace, ami acc implishmetils, both i I ualuriil m.d acquire \ she had bu: f. w rival-, >■ I ami sh ■ was thought to be an aogei by a.i who I ktieu her. I Then why was th : s, I repeal? Let me am , I sw< r, gentle and courteous reader, a-.d b? nol i v i xed m iih iiw for telli. g \ ou th.- S' ciets oi m\ j friends. Kate : ever loved her husband. Silt “ married him b emise it was the best oli r sin hod; and. as a woman’s heart is a a c igm.. l> Charles was tot i-.M. re of th ■ fact u til lie i. '• bands M ere uni d. 11 is I rue. that h I's. iemlt l * opposed the match, but that, was an il'.i'c livt i lu'ner lb. ii a.i i -im t toils co ciu-io . ti I The genii.'ma: . h « . ver, pers v red. a <1 a- I- i the l-ulv hud mel up her mi d to the m ill r l- ail objectnre- w r v. iiv d, i id Ihe m >st f v u 1, ' able u>i ; .'>■ i s Wen; e .e riaim d ala j f s > c h live fe.icity of du wedded pair. The ho ,ey rs moon passed ’S most h i ey.moons do sweel e I and joyous at i S rise, raplur ur atn.r Ifi , a e ( > ivt rgi gm i .-.ip li.y at its <l. cli . But hap J; Ipi •• s-, :> b • .dun g, must proc, ed from . i mu rial attachment; and, as j . a n>.,til<* i concur >, its prosp. rity caimot be penna c i | when one part ter is Constantly dr iwi g ij.,,.,. e ’l the resources of th ' oth .T, without supply! t_ a I his fair portion of the capital, and promote ~ I.t he i iter *sts of the fir-n; f>o in tqe tn tirmi ~ ’’ i v.jiiture. the h owe mart sdp payment ifdivfii !ed against i'seit. Charles waa a rnercha.,;, | th > :ce our metaphor. - | They ha I been min i d three years. U - I they been h ippy tins? No, to neither. A ■ j first lhey went toler.biy well. T o b., Sljr ,, f ,| )t . t !ad . Was g.- (jr iliy a., ill humor; little b k ! i eri gs ensu -d, penile, t rmmirka were brndi d, j ; a id smart a svv*-rs r *tur .ed; a keen ti.c u t r 4 j ol the wi.s would ever and anon aris ; domes > i tic iiegk-e s would b? magnified into gri van- ! ces, tiud occ sro.ial disputes degenerate i ;to i habi'u.d; a quarrel succeeded th"m, and at ■ I.: gill an open rupture was the position ot’ th > | belligerent parti, s, which led to th<‘ remarks recorded at the comm-I.cement of this verita ble st.«ry. Need we go on all the changes. 1 vexations, annoya; cs, r criminations, ami ; squabbles lhat ensu'd? how mu u d disaitis. ! f ictions took posaessio i of th ir miuds; how ; they separated; and how the m ddli g world blamed, first one a id then th“ «nh. r, and how they tur ed almost Ii art-hrok m uw..y from wiiut they once valued so highly? THE REUNION. “Oh woman! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please; But when affliction wrings the brow, A ministering angel thou.” It was auiuari: th f >li ige had put o; its v iri.gat ;d m i ilie, like th p itri ire K’s coat, ol m my colors; and hill, grove, fi Id, a >d plai , flash d b ck upon the decli n g b.i.ims of th., su ~ the thousand reiL ciio s his splendors hau te -t them. It was that g ‘title season of qui t iDela-choly, that tender and saddened time of theyeai when th; heart is in u iismi with tin gorg .‘ous mmr i gs of natur.; when th ■ sen sibiiities are the most vivid in thuir emotion, and the wadi g breeze sweeps a chord in eve ry soft and suff ring bosom. Proctor was i i his ibr <ry and alo a book was i i his hand, but its co.it mts could not ban is'n th ■ busy th .lights ih it poss ss"d a counter spell to th :p j. t’s imaginings. His retrospect ive gia .ce trrveiled bmk through the p. nsive vista ol twelve s flitary vears, since th? gordi > k iotof his nuptial chord had been st ver. d b. .ho relentless haul of destiny, whose shear.- had b e.i sh.rpei.ed by hum i i p ssio s, aid, he wretched cavilii gs off.iliibl ' a d vet u - ibrgivi .g creator m. His mi d was dw“Ui g ipoa the d.iy a of his you h: he r e dit'd th iioiir, th.? seen.-, wlieu h " tii’4 s.-w Kato; tui dl the fr sh tbeii .gs of th .t h mr.and th ■ nssr i ci itio.is of th it sp it, Were re ; vv nd withi i hitn tie dwelt tipo . all the fond i n.barme. ts that 11 > i agit.it d his b .so.n; a .d, he k iew no wherefore, n flush c tn ■ upo v htS' p tog shot through h:s heart, h sjirt a d why he k .mW ;.ot, bn be co’ildnmT vIMh 1 hke a child! It is tru ■, he w sno long r y.m tg; out the world ha I go ;e prosperously with him, i id Wealth h .d crow >e<l his exerti ms; h ■ hi mtlived all the slanders aid ill-will of ihos who had iiiisju Iged his fieli .gs a i l k h w no ,hmg of his motives; and all h s early unpr s ■ ions It id been m allowed by the soothing hi < if time. Solitude was u .co gj iul to his a lure, and alth mgh it gave q liet to his mi • yet it did not bri .g h ip.ii jess tn his heart. A k :o>‘k disiurb -d his r-verie. a id an ou • ■I a visitor. II ■ was glad to be i iterrupt.- ; d the do ii" was mini di itelv op m -d, mhe his daught r, ow a boum ig, Ii ht-h'arteo j ivous .Hid I ively girl, b tween that u c ‘i't.i mt t.iterusii ig, age of giil a id wom i h >o n ni ided ; .to his arms lik ■ a fiw >, i :d, -s si ? >vere I him with h r kiss s, 'he words “de . father” broke from het rosy lips. 8h : hid just retur ied from sch ml forth ~s -.‘so i, and had c une t > sp i.id a few w n-k with her father; Whom she loved with all th i’o d ;ess of h r in oc-a .t heart. I a Kate’s character th re was o ie conspi cuous feature; sh hi I educated h r child t< ■ove and resp et h‘r f ither, and, notwi hsta d mg the ob oq iy that wis heaped upo him b. her own relations, she i ever gave ve t to o < single remark that implied a censure <>f his conduct, nor allowed a y one to do it i her presence, and least of all. i i her d iughter’s b ‘ariug. Her husba d li >d been v rv lib r io her; she hid never k sown a want si c he' separation from him. and h-r days of r; fl j lion, which had glided o i in tranquTitv, h t? heeffeet of showing her the fdly of her f r , in r r sh u .dert.iking. while her pr s< <t Io . ly conditio i daily demo-s;rated its disc tnlbrt. What all who k lew them had i i vi.i e idea, vert'd to eff ct, their mil ual n conciliation, which they b vh proudly and steadily d cii "d. . j iccid ‘i t at leagih hr ugh abon'. Pr ct >' . was suddenly seized wi .h a malig n t fv. r. ■ a d when the hlre'iugs of his Cst .blislime ■ t shrunk from th ■ perfirmaiiceof th irduty, th . daughter, perceiving h r parent’s itnmin m I 'tL l . made her mother acquainted with the fct. . St age and iescrtit.ible f cling of th ? fe male bo om, uh ch opp isitimi pr unpts a ~ which difficulties excib . to the uob.est anti i most devoted efforts! 'This won, m, who i the very w into mess of praspeiTy, when th swol i g wav sos hi’.piiiness h'd i vited her . to lau :ch h r bark of life upo i their tid ,h id , : m uilv dashed it upon th- pu ks and quicksai ds , ' of adversity, now th it th ■ wiih i i >g blast was i rage g aou the siroccn br .i'hi gpos> iar a ou d, discovered i th r s< s<fh r h art a tibte w hiell now first vibrated to love and all ,i the find eml.anno, ts of our uitu.’e, a d c; tn . A j l.k ■ a mi is’ ri g angel, bri gi g balm a d i, | roti f rt to th • disturbed nml r stk-ss couch. . ) H r I > g a d assidu us vi i s were al I ng'h I | ec mp ms- d bv the reslor ition to p re ptio .!aid co .scions ess ot fl) ch st med a id afflict, [i I fath rol li. r chitil. the b ing t> whom h i v r iiftefwiirt’s<‘!u g with i I votioa no !’e ~! could a'.iemit , no iniseo; strnciion impair, i.i; ! lim" could ch i ge. . I Th yhid i nch discovered 'h it. as in ell sim >t j ilar cits -s, both had been i i error, a d hml \ i learned th t most importa tof all seer ts.'th. I c ir.ut..:i] to,beam-c ■isth ■ talisman of hipn i e co t mt. and th it n d sire to promote the hap ,, pi-iess ot another is the surest way cfs cuii <: i, our own. Is ORIGINAL ANECDOTE. . A pedli.r, with his cart, overtaking anothm > ot his cla i <> i the road, was thus addressed— r. ‘h tlloa, friend what do von carry?” “Drugs i i,"' m i. i es,” wislb ■ r-pb'. “G >o I,” t • • imr oath ■ h ■’, “you m.y g >... h ■ .d—lc.rn • I grave s'.oacsl” IV—Ao. %S. —■— :l From the Kew Y&rker srrnEDs fatches. from the drawer of a defunct shif. XIII VILLAGE WEDDINGS IN THE OLDEN TIME. 1 like ih? good old-fashioned spanner of cel . b ating a v|P.',g„ weddi g. P. opte si? d thi gs wre ot erst so flighty as now. jn oide t • itn th : c iremmix was performed in th.? even ig— in our villages 1 mean.—and after the ’ remb'i g, b.j hi g couple had been pro. mJ o . Ii .m, tJjj worthy parson hud d his lips over liis fourth glass of tod v. an , with his stiverheaded cane in hand, k his d par ui ’, th girls and the boys ,g w merry, adh .ch ..riul laugh rang out —a d moi k-weddings went on—*a;.d all par tank i th? feast , dih fr >lic—old and y.>ui g in .tr in i .d maid—a. d ull were, ar seemed rn happy. But now, thrsooth, in this day •>f stearriboa's a d locomotives, the girls ai.ro married flyii g—he pursou can barely get out he last word of the cer-mo ty, when efftho r-ippy couple go as if they had been cornmit ti g some u.'p.ird inab'e offnee, and wer * scampn-i g from justice. What ails the chii d.’e..?—Arj they too desperately happv to ■p j.d a wevk or so at home? Do they f;e! shamed of their filly, (b g pafdo i. Master ilytne. !; i d run to hide their blushing f ices ..mo g'he multitudes of a steamboat? Well, Cupid is hui's If a winged rogue: let thos? w ho ke i his archery fly if they will, so they do mt fly from b iss. But I would the custom whilom so prevalent of perpetrating matrimo y without ru.mi g away the verv next niw m t'i.t, were prevalent now. And yet it is nona f our b isi .ess. Young people will do as hey p'e is • i such m »ti. rs—and this, perhaps, n iy b ■ a plan of he girls; if So, we have no hi ig to U'ge. ' Vox puellcß eox Uei’— which i-, bei g i .terpreted, ‘Thu girls are .ft. r all.’ XVI. tovw AND PORTRY. They are friends of ‘auld la ig svno/ and ravel estsHy togeth T, hand i i h ind, through his wiider irss world. I do not pretend *0 accoil t forthe philosophy of the fact— enough for nie to state the fact itself. In the days of •ny K*y|iood—a greeuh ir lin my teens—[ р. riw.ced a visitation of the thud r pusii 0 : . I felt queer, but kaew not what ailed ,u •. Ui; p oie day, awaki ig from’ •ft ‘bro w.; sa j. ousn ss,’ I f>uid that dun .g my abstr cu u [ had b.-eu guilty of poetry. The awful u Hur. »i'my malady was m a mome «t disclosed n me—l felt me m. But the irn .g m Doily Grublior i would have u place u. m r-art; ami, seer g at le igtlt that a desp.irat hs 'use required a. desperate rgmedy, I s< r>- >usiy resolved upon matritnm.y. I sought th. Iwi-lli g of D>l y—l.revealed toy passio-I—i poi p. dhe qu.isiio.i’-—and th-.- blushi .g, fright- erf damsel said she loved me. Happv day hit! 1 visited Miss Grubhorn often, ant} really . j-rsuaded myself that she 'as a living lum-’ 'if p rs -ctio'i.’ Alas aad alack, that the suttiiv .potsi «<’ur existoeec- should be «»o Very 'Briefr- - f Uiiek previous to the ap- poi ted marruge-day, that 1) illy announced th. iniportant fact that she had written ‘a piece poetry’ o' me. 1 was elec|rifi d,and dun isi >os of immortality flitted before my mental y?. To my eutreaii s that she would pro ace i', sh? at te g'h promised to favor m; .vith .1 c >py of toe li ies the next day. Sleep. ss y lid I p iss th i ight. I thought »f Ha i. h More, Laeutia B irb'uld, Felicia Hemns, I d D diy Grabhor: —l was too happy fl>r •te p. II ‘:>vi'v’ '* Te the mir i g hours—r 1 i.ier-tini at I ■ igth cam ■, and with it camo hi io g expected packet from D dly. I cau t iusiy broke ' he seal—l op med the 1< ttcr care ’.'i v, teaderlv. A lock of D div’s hair,lied wi lj i k a .<1 yel'ow nbbj.i. was ihc first thing tint tricted tnv att: .tio 1. Hastily thrustirg it to my pocket, I st I might be detected with he fj id lik : in my hand, through much trib- II iti 1.1 I d cypher, d the following poem. For h ■ b a fit of pr ise it arid future I vers, I tra -ertbe it verbatim —would I could also trans- с. th- ehir igraphy! Cadmus! what a -erm I!—li.>w utt riv untruuscribable! But here’s the poetry, a lyhow: ‘Little is the robin, Les is the r.j poor is the nter wcrce is the the rozy red the violet blue i.i time thay will dye and so must you when this you sea remember mo this lock of heir i youster ware and now i present it to you your friend t.li deib dew us part dolly It was too much. I c iukl hive bar ie tr: ki .dn. ss, co items ly, reproach from my ador ; D >lly—bu such spelli ig!—l’m a bach 1 ir, 1 11 D 'iy is a wife a .d the mo.h r of sixteen jmn 1 1 children. V. G. A. ! Plainfiild. Vt , 1831. Anccd <te.— r-Whde sp .ki g upon the In fi t 1 w ir, par.icul irly ih ■ Florida, we are re. •ni ided of a si gul.ir circumsta ic that ha.p --...< edit) the early part of tbit war. We nil \ ow the partieu! irs r< ] Hive io th-: executioa f Arhutlr ot and Anibristcr; a .d it is pretty w< h k iw , that tw > 1 idian chiefs wer hu g a the sun“ lim * by the coiiinimt.iiiig offi •< r, who appr vdth - sentence of th? art nd- I’.i bring th • (wo whitr sto death. These In dians were hung without a trial. S me time afterwards, a private of the Georgia military we tto the bank of o'C of he riv rs to fish, when he was surprise <1 and taken by a p irly of 1 .dia s. All thought him ’ j ,| ~d, b it afli-rwaids h? was discovered, and : he. storv h ‘ related was a singular develope in-nt of noble feeli ga id hun a ity tip i . the. pirtofth Lo ir.. He was co din edtob* . s h ,t—carried to h ■ grmi d—a Irniia st... d ' b for him with hi- u.ierrt g rifle —his ti g r • upon 'h ■ trigger—th hlo-gly deed was o:. the 1 eve of iU tu li tn?ut, when r you g I d.an gin, batts ve te-ii years ol age, rush uto the ' prtso er, and thiowi g h r arms amu id his ! <eck.• fi' red h rsclf a victim with biin. Th? I ciian lowir d his rite. The deed —the de. • vo io iof the girl—l er lofy eur g , won the r p i v? of tie co ii tn icd. She was nftei- ! wards tak n into G orgia. loaded with pre. d s • is, a d into N H‘th Caroli ui, whrr . w. be ’ li v-‘, -h was educated. And the fith r <>i th s girl was one of the Indian chiefs wh> was ’■ I hung without a trial, by the celebrate I gemra fe of the S mi ole campaign. We draw no thread of Wood i 1 the garment of his military fame. Those davs with their dark tra isac tions h ve passed by. and we view them now r with a softer spirit; but we snly i troduce the - adventure h?ro to show how much abased has s bee ith • I di.m, and how different th">r c 1 • J dirt, u d r ex'ra.iniimi’y cirr’imsta " ■. |ih ' •>(’ white men’s.— IVashlnrt.i .' .