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BY JAMES W. JO YES.
The Southern Whig,
PU3LISIIUD EVERY SATURDAY MORNING.
TERMS.
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Ths s?J<i of personal Property, in like manner,
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of Ordinary for Leave to sell Land or Ne
groes, must be published four months.
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’ PROSPECTUS
OF THE
SOTYIW WHCWa
THIS paper formerly edited by Win. E.
Jones, is now under the direction ot the
vuidersigned. The growing importance of Ath
cns, the state of parties in Georgia, and the
agitation cf 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
construction ofthe true spirit of the constitution,
the maintainauce of die rights and sovereignty
of the States, the retrenchment. of executive
patronage, reform, and a strict accountability
of all public officers; moderate, yet firm and
decidod in his censures, “nothing extenuate or
setdown ought in malice,” —to expose prompt
ly abuses and corruption when and whereevr
discovered —swell an one the undersigned pro
poses to make the Whig; while it will contain
the most authentic and important iufqnnation
ou r
tions. the latest j ■
giual articles,
popular works ot
HP'nts ot
'!’>> Georgians t he• a ,5
.he appeals not in vain for an i icrease ofpatfou
agC —and he respectfully asks the friends ot
'ionsUtutiotial liberty to make an effort, to ob
tain subscribers.
The Southern Whig is published weekly it;
Athens Georgia, at Three Dollars per annum
payable in advance, Three Dollars and titty
cents if not paid within six months, or Four
if not paid until the end ot the year.
J. W. J ONES.
PROSPECT U S.
A T the late meeting of the Alumni of Frank
jY tin College, it was unanimously resolved to
be expedient to make arrangements to issue a
Monthly Literary Magazine, to be called
THE ATHENIAN.
The undersigned were appointed by the So
ciety a committee of publication and joint Edi
tors of the work, until the next meeting of t.ie
Society. We have no interest in the work, ex
cept that which we take in the welfare of the
country and honor ot the State. We, ot the
South, have too long depended upon foreign
parts forour Literature, and neglected our own
talents. We sha t lie weak so long as we think
we are weak: and dependent until we make ef
forts to be independent. \V e hope all the friends
of Literature in the State, and especially the
Alumni of Franklin College, will patronize the
enterprise both by word and deed. State pride
the love of Literature, our interest in the cause
of general Education, all call upon us to sustain
an enterprise so necessary to our improvement,
«tmd the honor ofthe State.
A. S. CLAYTON,
JAMES JACKSON,
R. 1). MOORE,
WM. L. MITCHELL,
C. F. McCAY,
SAMUEL I’. PRESSLEY,
11. HULL.
Tub Athenian shall issue monthly, on fine
(paper, stitched and covered in pamphlet form,
and shall contain sixty-four pages royal octavo.
Nothing derogatory to religion, offensive to any
denomination of Christians, or of any political
party, shall appear in the Athenian. Its pages
shall be honestly devoted to general Literature,
the cause of Education, the Review of new
works, and notices of improvements in Science,
Arts and Agriculture. Price Five Dollars per
annum, payable on the delivery cl the first num
ber. _
NEW GOODS.
JVV. JONES is now receiving and opening
at his STORE IN DEARING’S BUICK
BUILDING, a general assortment of
FAKiIa WINTER GOODS,
Which for VARIETY, RICHNESS AND
SPLENDOR has not been surpassed by any
stock ever ollered in this market. His stock
consists ofa very general assortment of
Staple and E’aiscy Dry GoodM, i
CLOAKS, OVERCOATS, READY MADE
CLOTHING, BONNETS, HATS, SHOES,:
CALF AND WATER PROFF 800 I S, Sperm
and Tallow Candles, <Scc.
Oct. 15,—24—tf
Executor’s Sale.
WILL be sold on the first Tuesday in
Febmiry next,at the Court House in ‘Che
rokee Co., Lot ot Land No. 1134, third District
and second Section, in said conn ty
containing 40 Acres ; sold as part of
the real estate of John Osborn of Clark county
deceased. Sold agreeable to the last will of said
tlcc’d,
{SMAVV. WOOLDRIDGE, ) ~ ,
NICHOLAS OSBORN, ( hx rs
Dec. 10,—32-tds
171 OUR months after date, application will
. lie made to the Honorable Inferior Court
of Clark county, when sitting for Ordinary
purposes, for leave to sell all the real estate of
Robert It. Billups, late of Stewart coui.ty de
ceased.
ELIZABETH W. BILLUPS, Ex’rx.
Nov, 26 —30—4m,
Southern Shig.
From the Knickerbocker fir December.
THE .<> B RS ill AJVS I. AMLV T.
On! for one draught of 'hose sweet waters now, |
That shed such freshness o’er my early life! j
Oh! that I could but bathe my fevered brow, j
To wash away the dust of worldly strife,
And be a simple-hearted child once more,
As it I never knew this world’s pernicious lore!
My heart is weary, andmy spirit pants
Beneath the heat and burden ot the day;
j
Would that I could regtin those shady haunts
Where »nce, with Hope, I dreamed the hours
away;
Giving my thoughts to ialea of old romance,
And yielding up my soul to Youth’s delicious
trance!
Vain are such wishes!—l no more may tread
With ling’ring step and slow the green hill
side;
Before me now Life’s shorl’ning path is spread,
And t must onward, whatsoe’er betide;
The pleasant nooks ot youth are passed for
aye,
And sober scenes now meet the traveller on las
way
Alas! the dust which clogs my weary feet.
Glitters with fragments ts each ruined shrine
Where once my spirit worshipped, when with '
sweet
And passionless enthusiism it could twine : (
Its strong afl’ectioMS romd Earth’s earliest ; .
things, [ .
A et bear away no stain uptii its snowy wings. I |
What though some flowers have 'scaped the '
tempest’s wrath
Daily they droop by Nature's swift decay; j
What though the setting sun still lights my ■ ‘
path?
Aloni’s dewy freshness long hath passed (
away; ,
Oh! give me back Life’s nevly-budded flowers!
Let me once inhale the bieath of morning’s ‘ ,
hours! (
Mv youth!—my youth!—oh give me back my \ 1
youth!
Not the unfurrowed brow mil blooming cheek '
But Childhood’s sunny thoughts, its perfect i
trutu,
And Youth’s unworldly feelings—these II '
seek! 1
Oh! who could e’er be sinless and yet sage? 1
Would that I might forget Time's dark and
blotted page!
Brooklyn, L. I. 1835 E. C. Embury.
isc t Ha neon s.
From the Keepsake.
1
T IE E <« KK C I AN W I F I' .
>-Y - - LOU ISA IIE NRIETTI SHERIDAN.
-.»% MMjtoer us 1832, an English party
her son, and daughter,
them on a
tile Fra n can. prr >fesscr By
to explore the beauties of its shores, but
in reality to try the effect of sea air for the
invalid Clara, the youthful idol of our cir
cle, whose gently expressed wish for my
society had all the power of a command;
and, after a prosperous passage along the
coast of Italy, their commodious yacht
brought us among those themes of ancient
and modern song, the Greek Isles. The
novel scenery, with the luxuriant vegeta
tion of its exquisite climate, enchanted our
invalid; and Ypsara appearing to elicit her
strongest preference, we decided on re
posing there after our voyage, and took a
temporary residence near Ajio Setira;
from hence we daily made excursions to
places inaccessible for a carriage; Clara
being frequently induced by her pictu
resque enthusiasm to overtask her failing
strength.
Having often heard of the remarkable
view from Mount Mavrovouni, she was
tempted, one cool, grey morning, to visit
it early with Frederick and myself; and we
remained sketching from different points,
unmindful ofthe sultry glory of a southern
midday sun, until turning to address Clara,
1 perceived she had fainted over her spir
ited sketch. In great alarm, Frederick
bore her towards a sequestered villa we
had previously remarked, while I almost
flew up the path before him, to solicit as-
I sistance, until a sudden turn brought me
i beneath a verandah, and in presence of a
! young Greek lady.
I Never shall I forget the noble vision of
i loveliness which met my gaze, as 1 breath
i lessly explained, and apologized for, my
i intrusion. In all the majestic freshness of
* early womanhood, she was seated watch
i ing the slumber of a cheruto boy, whose
j rounded cheek was pillowed by her arm:
I her costume, of the richest materials, se
; lected with the skill of a painter, consisted
of a foustanella ofthe lightest green satin,
under an open guna robe of violet velvet,
starred and embroidered in gold, and dis-
playing her swawlike neck and bust, cover
ed by a pale network, the small/es-sv-cap
of crimson velvet, encircled with gold ze
chins, was lightly placed on her profuse
silken-black hair; and, as she listened, toy i
request was already answered from the i
depths of her soft lustrous eyes, ere her re- ,
ply, in the purest Italian, could find utter- '
ance. __ 1
Clara was soon established on
ously-rayed couch,
gentle cares so
fair Grci-k.
awake
elll. ; _Jtrdi/..,mlvs.
c<>ri.l. jrfvuiiation first
ma-lv• ;* * ' of an officer,
oi’sl'A-. , JT youthful appear
ance,B • ■ our lovely entcr-
taitierljY.'' i' almost certainty,
A blush ol'
pleasure her smiling reply:;
Ai>: d mio Marilu, Lix'hagox* Mavromi-,
itll! LV.”
The boy was instantly in h;s father’s ,
arms, who welcomed us with a graceful j
and high bred cordiality; and we prolong
ed our stay while he discoursed ou the stir- I
ring themes of national interest, with all i
the impetuous energy natural to his youth,
his country, and proLssiun ot arms; the j
* f.ochagos, captain.
“WHERE POWERS ARE ASSUMED WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN DELEGATED, A N UI.LI FIC ATION 0 F THE ACT IS THE RIGHTFUL REMEDY. Jefferson.
j fond eyes of Anastasouls, no longer lan
' guid, echoing his rapid eloquence with their
| kindling flash, indicating the possession of
| woman's most beautiful and most fatal gift,
i intense feeling. So charmed were we
I with these youthful lovers (who we found
were also orphan cousins,) that their ani
mated wish for increasing our intimacy
i was met with equal fervour. We found
both were highly gifted, and exceedingly
well informed; and from that time scarce
ly a day passed without a vistit or note be
tween us.
About six weeks after this occurrence,
Frederick Vernon came in hastily one
morning, looking agitated and deadly pale:
Clara, with an invalid’s perception, eagerly
demanded the cause.
“The whole town is ringing with a spir
ited but most hapless act of Mavromikalis’,”
he replied; “he was ordered by Ektatosf
Koliopulos to march with his regiment
against Ajio Steffano, which happens to be
his native village, inhabited by his relations
and family retainers; he calmly requested
an exchange of duty for some other not
requiring a personal conflict against the
actual ties of nature; but he was coarsely
ordered to march instantly, or surrender
his sword as a traitor to his party. Highly
excited by this unexpected alternative, he
hesitated, and remained silent; when a for
eign officer advancing, laid his hand on
the sword, saying, superciliously, ‘ Locka
ges, you must renounce that of which you
make no use !'Mavromikalis felled him to
the earth, drew the sword, and saying,‘it
should never be stained by himself, or dis
graced by another,’ he snapped the blade,
and threw it at the feet ofthe commanding
officer.”
“Knowing his impetuous character,”
said Clara, “ I can scarcely blame him; but
what will be the result ?”
“ Alas ! there is no uncertainty, dearest;
guilty of having rebelled against orders, and
of striking his superior officer, he is taken
to the Fort prison, and by the Greek mili
tary code, the sentence of death is inevi
table
# * * * *
On recovering from the first shock of this
overwhelming intelligence, 1 proceeded to
the villa; here a hurried and defaced note
from Anastasoula awaited me, stating,
“she had gone to se.ek the aid of a distant
friend; alone, and disguised, lest she might
be intercepted.” Sadly I returned home,
and found Frederick had sought admission
to the prisoner in the Fort: but this the
foreign sentinel had refused, hoarsely say
ing, "Il would be time enough to see him
three days hence, when led forth for execu
tion !”
As 3. last resource we framed a petition
to the stem Ektatos, signed by the English
and leading Greeks; lint he replied, the
state of regimental insubordination was
such, that he had been waiting to make a
Striking example of a man of rank and in
fluence, such as Mavromikalis; and there
fore all interference was in vain.
* * * * *
The awful ceremonial of death was ar
ranged in all its melancholy solemnity; the
soldiers, looking pale from their distressing
duty, stood silent as the grave. A move
ment arose among the crowding specta
tors, and the prisoner was led forth, no
longer in that uniform which had proved
so fatal, but habited in the flowing tunic
and vest of his native place; this, however,
did not conceal the hearty ravages of sor
row on his young frame, hitherto Jirm
though slight., but now devoid
as he mournfully stepped
doomed square. For the first time n j'fuiS
ed his head, and looking towards heaven,
was soon lost in mental prayer; then mur
murs at his extreme beauty came from the
ctowd, and while thirir anxiety was at its
most painful jieight, a peasant girl pressed
in front ofthe line, setting down a lovely
boy, who joyously bounded towards the
condemned, exclaiming, Mamma! my
ova Mamma again!”
That sound caused an’electric change in
in the bearing of the prisoner, whose ab
stracted thoughts were recalled to earth
by nature’s soft bonds; the long, long em
brace, the hysteric maternal cry of my
Boy !my Boy!” proved to the spectators
that the unerring perception of affection
had exceeded theirs, and taught the infant
■ boy to discover, in the disguised prisoner
his own loved mother, whose life he had
thus preserved !
Having failed in all her appeals for par
don, Anastasoula had ell’ected her entrance
into the fort disguised so that even the j
prisoner did not recognize her; and, pro
fessing to be an agent of his wife’s, had
prevailed on him to escape, and conceal 1
himselfou board Vernon’s yacht, where,;
she added, his family would join him. He !
affected all she had well arranged by faith
ful agents; but he little thought that his '
heart’s treasure was to be the price ot his I
deliverance; he had even experienced a
half-reproachful regret that Anastasoula
had not risked a personal interview, to
cheer him for his perilous undertaking;— I
so seldom does man divine the devotion of
woman, or guess the ecstacy arising from
self-sacrifice tor an idolized object, intense
in proportion t > the extent of what she has
u-e'iuquished; fur the woman who adores,
femreis but one hopeless suffering, the de
conviction of having lost the heart
cast its spells over her first af
* •* * * *
Ektatos Koliopulos, on learning the ex
change, and concluding the rebel was be
yond his reach, withdrew from the mani
festations of popular feeling; and the hero
ic /Vnastasouia was borne nearly lifeless
to our house. Iler alabaster skin had
been stained to the deep tint of her hus-
I baud’s, and the resemblance made com
i plete by ti c sacrifice of her luxuriant tres
: ses so that nothing but childhood’s instinct
i con’d have discovered her. We soon at
ter received a private intimation, from the
j cautious Ektatos, that he had commuted
j the sentence of death, for instant banish
! merit from V psara; and having no ties
I there, we hastily broke up our establish
i
j f Hklato», governor.
ATHENS, GEORGIY, JANUARY It , 1837.
rnent, carrying away our Greek friends,
whom we left to retirement and affection
at Tanedos.
* * * * *
Our English party were at Corfu in 1833,
when the Governor gave an entertain
ment to the young Otho, on his route to
take possession of his new kingdom. I had
the honour of waltzing with this good-na
tured, plain, flat-featured, Moorish-looking
Prince (whom I found, like myself, much
fonder of dancing than politics, and who.
whatever sort, of king he may be, is one of
the best waltzing partners in Europe, which
is much more agreeable;) I took an oppor
tunity to relate the foregoing trait of his
now nation; and, as I felt that no waltz
loving prince could refuse a petition while
dancing to “ The Notre-dame,” I made
mine in such effective terms, that I had
the pleasure, soon afterwards, of adding a
bright ornament to his court in the fascin
ating Anastasoula, the devoted young
Greek Wife.
SONNET.
BY WM- HENRY BROJKFIELD.
IVe meet at morning,while tlic laughing light
Os youth Is o’er us; e'en from life’s alloy
Breeding perforce, like rock-born flowers, a
joy;
—Making its dew of tears than mirth more
bright.
Anon we part; but ere the gathering night
Ofycars, if in the vale tgain we meet,
Shall we unsiuilingly each other greet,
Whose hearts in natural tenderness are dight?
Forme, though silver age si. on my brow,
He shall rise up to hearin after time
Thy well remember’d voice in music flow,
ns now it blendeth with the breezy prime;
Dim twilight, as the purpled east shall glow,
And curfew sad like pleasant matins chime»
From the Aew England Magazine.
THE JUEAIJ SET.
WHEREIN I SPEAK OF MOST DISASTROUS CHANCES.
The clock struck two, a welcome sound, |
forit was the dinner hour. Some peopledine ■
at five; let them. lam a man of appetite,'
and am sharp-set full three hours sooner, i
A cool air and a long walk in the forenoon I
had contributed in fit ting me to enjoy tho
bounties of Providence with particular re
lish. The table already smoked under a
load of savory viands. The flavor that
reeked upwards f rom a dozen dishes would
have overpowered in genial fragrance all
the incense ever snuffed by a Pagan divin
ity. Sancho Panza did not smack his lips
with greater gusto among the mountains
of meat at Camacho’s wedding, than I did ;
on bolting from my artu chair towards the
dinner table. I
As I moved by the window, my eye
was caught by a sign newly erected on the ’
opposite side of the street. “ Ready-made \
cojjlns Jor sale here !” Confusion ! Was
ever a so mal-apropos. r l’<» be caught
just at the moment of dinner, with such a
damper to the spirits ! Was the thing pos
sible ? 1 looked again. It. was no illusion,
1 even fancied I could see the horrid recep
tacles within the door. A cold shivering
came over my frame. 1 rushed to the ta
ble, but could not get the direful image
from my mind, f remembered that 1 had
a fit of sickness some fifteen years before;
and “ what.” thought I.- if 1 should be sick
again !” The idea made me a little qualm
ish at the first start. I began to cat, but
alas ! my appetite had fkd—l could not
tell how; it was to no purpose that dish
set before me; my languid
to be excited by all the con
diments of the cooking art; spices were no
longer stimulating, nor pickles provocative.
Can a worse accident happen, the longest
day in the year, than to lose one's dinner ?
Think of my vexation, then, to be balked
of it at the very threshhold, and by such a
provoking occurrence.
I pait up with the disappointment as phi
losophically as I was able. "To-morrow,"
i said I to myself. 1 shall get over it. and
make amends for lost time." Never was
fond anticipation more cruelly falsified.—
lhe sight of that accursed sign had lost
none of its dire potency. 1 could not eat
my dinner ! Just so the. next day. and the
next. It was a perpetual scarecrow to
my affrighted appetite. I never could
| look out of the window without seeing it;
m fact it seemed to be stercotvped on mv
brain. 'lbis could not be endured long.
I began to grow thin. Horrid! 1 was
j thought of for an alderman not six months
before.
' So I changed my lodgings; no inconsid
erable exertion for “men of mould.” I
hate to be moving about. “ Make them
1 like unto a wheel,” I always regarded as
the bitterest curse ever uttered. I chose
a different part ofthe city, and took care
never to walk through the street 1 had
1 quitted. In a short tune I began to pick
: lI P-
1 had not quite recovered my pristine
rotundity, when 1 was awakened'one mor
ning just at day-break. (1 nevei rise before
ten) by a violent ringing ofthe door-bell.
In less than a minute the house-maid burst
into the room with,“ Sir, Doctor Burdock
has come to see you.” \ murrain con
found Doctor Burdock,” said 1, “ what is
the quack after here ?” Aly reply was un
attended toby the maid, who instantly
popped cut and introduced the Doctor, a
cadaverous looking eaitiif, attended by a
couple ol fellows—young bemmiers, I sup
pose, in the art of killing? -Ah !”exclaim
: ed he, “ lucky we found vou so quick—
i caked at three houses in this street before
we came to the right one,—some altera
! lion made in the numbers last week. But
1 must proceed to work immediately—
hope you sent for me the moment you’lell
the first symptoms.” My astonishment at
this unexpected intriisio’u prevented me
from uttering a word for a lew moments
but at length I asked,
i “ AVhat is your business here ?”
“ Aly dcai sir, he re|>l,ed, •• | cannot stop
to describe to you the whole extent of my
[ practice, in the city, because vou might die
; I in the mean time, you know. How long
• | ago did you swallow tho poison !”
. “ Sir.” said 1. you m e altogether mista-
| ken. 1 have swallowed h o poison, nor .“
“ Nonsense —it is idle to say that salt
petre is not poison; a whole ounce at a
time. Terrible burning pain in the sto
mach, you say. Warm water, girl, imme
diately.”
“ I tell you Doctor, you have called at
the wrong ”
“ Fiddlesticks —no matter whether I cali
it the wrong name or not; poison is poison,
call it what you will. I must apply the
stomach pump immediately.”
“ Get out of the house, blockhead; I’ll
have none of your infernal machines thrust
down mv throat. I tell you again, lam
not ”
“ Ah, what anobstinate man ! —and just
on the brink of the grave perhaps. Some
people will have their way, though they
die for it. But we cannot wait.”
“ Go to the ”
“ Bless me ! he begins to rave I —See
how his eyes roll. ’Tis the effect ol the
poison. Quick! quick! seize him by the
artng—hold his mouth open. Poor man !
I fear it is all over with him.”
My condition was now desperate. I
was always in their clutches; but despair
gave me strength. I lent the doctor a
punch in the ribs with all the force I could
exert, which threw him over backwards,
and in falling, luckily for me. he knocked
down one of his assistants. Ere they had
a moment’s time to pick themselves up, I
attacked the third, and pitched him out of
the room. Then returning to the two fal
len heroes I succeeded in trundling them
through the door-way on all fours, I then
clapped the door to and locked it in an in
stant. For a moment I imagined myself
in safetv, but presently overheard them
speak of fetching a crow-bar, and bursting
open the door“ to save the poor creature’s
life,” as they compassionately added. Not
an instant was to be lost. 1 hurried on a
few clothes, stripped the bed to make a
rope ladder fastened it to the window,
slipped out instantly, and glided into the
street. I ran through the first narrow lane
I came to, without looking behind me,
scampered up one alley and down another,
and did not think myself out of danger till
1 was entire out of breath.
What become of Doctor Burdock I can
not say, for I felt too great a horror at the
danger I had escaped, ever to go near the
scene afterward. I took new lodgings,
and began to recover from the effects of
the catastrophe. There is nothing like a
sudden fright for taking down a man's
flesh. However, fora long while, I could
not hear the door-bell ring of a morning,
without being thrown into a cold sweat;
and if ever the nightmare assailed me, it
was sure to come in the shape of a stom
ach pump, with a nozzle as big as the boi
ler of a steamboat, sticking fast to my wind
pipe. After a time, I recovered some se
renity of mind, and was master of a tolera
ble appetite. Ah ! with what disponsolate
regrets did I look back upon the golden
days of good eating ! when the peaceful
calm of my mind resembled an unrutlied
ocean of turtle soup, and each happy
year glided round w ith as noiseless and
undisturbed a uniformity as a fat goose re
volves on the spit!
One day I was interrupted in the midst
of my dinner.—l think I had not felt so good
an appetite for many a month. I had been
but an hour and a halfat table, and several
courses remained to come on. 1 was told
there were persons at. the door desiring to
1 speak with me. “ Particularly engaged,”
said 1. “ But they are come on very ur
! gent business, and must be attended to,
' said the servant —and I observed astrange
llv mysterious expression ol lace with
which this was uttered. I hurried to the
door, hardly knowing why. No man in his
; senses surely ever would have left his
dinner for such a thing. But let that pass.
There was a fatality about it. At the
door I was met by four men bearing on
their shoulders a coffin ! 1 was horror
I struck: all the terrific forebodings and
(rightful images which haunted my imagi
nation from the beginning, returned with
tenfold blackness. My hair rose on end.
I stood aghast, rooted to the ground, and
had no power to move !
“ Are you Mr. Brown ?” asked one of
• the spectres.
" 1 am;” replied I. (John Brown,good
reader, is my unfortunate name.)
“ Here is’ the coffin we have made for
you. We have worked upon it with all
possible despatch, because we knew you
would want it immediately.”
“ But 1 have no particular desire to be
buried,” said I, trembling, and unable to
I stand without leaning against the wall.
I “That is neither here nor there, they
j replied. “ Our business is to bring it to
j tiiis place for Mr. Brown, who is to be bu
! ried to-day. You are the man."
i “But lam not dead, nor likely to die.
i I have just eaten a hearty dinner —that is,
i I have begun to eat it. Aou surely wo n t
put me in the .” I could utter no more;
1 right absolutely took away the power ot
j speech.
! “ Why not ?” returned they, with cer-
tain significant winkings. “Nt e are ac
i customed to despatch our business and ask
i no questions.”
It was plain now that there was a con*
; spiracy to bury me alive. What could be
, done ? If I retreated into the house, I
i could hope for no protection from the in
mates, who were doubtless in the plot. —
flow otherwise would a coffin have been
j brought to the door ? There was no re
source but to cut and run. I pushed thro
■ the entry, knocking down two of the con
| spirators as 1 sprang out of the door, and
j took to my heels without a hat. Turning
! a corner, and losing sight, of my pursuers,
1 I came upon a hack standing in the street,
with the door open. 1 sprang in without
a moment's thought, glad of any means ot
' escape. The hackman, thinking me to be
the person he had been waiting for, shut
■ the door, mounted the box, and drove on.
The fatigue I had suffered in running,
threw me into a slumber. At last 1 was
i awakened and told that I had reached the
place. On alighting I found myself in a
yard, from which I was conducted into a
spacious building, which 1 took for a tav
ern. 1 imagined myself at some distance
from the city, and congratulated myself on
my escape from it. Unlucky wretch!
I was at that moment in the Massachusetts
General Hospital!
In afew minutes,! found myself surround
ed by numerous members ofthe faculty.
“ This patient,” said the principal surgeon,
taking mv head between his hands, “ is af
flicted with a paralysis of the lower jaw—
be so good as to open your mouth.” I
shook my head, struggling to get free, but
he held on the faster. “We shall now
proceed to exhibit some electrical experi
ments upon him, which I am strongly of
opinion will be attended with beneficial re
sults; the worst that can happen is, that
they may knock out some of his grinders,
ami loosen most of the front teeth.”
These horrible words sounded in my
ears like a death-knell.- I could not speak:
for the scientific operator had distended
my jaws to the utmost stretch with a wood
en gag. which I in vain attempted to force
out. My hands were secured, and I was
held fast in my seat by the doctors, who
all crowded round me. “It willbe such a
beautiful experiment,” said they. Was
ever any destiny like mine ? Driven half
to distraction by ready-made coffins onone
day—attacked by a stomach-pump on the
other—within a hair’s breadth of being bu
ried on the next, and now the grinders
about to be blown out of my jaws by a
broadside from an electrical battery !
“ Verily,” thought I,“ this is destined to
be the last day of my life;” an army of
doctors are upon me, armed with all sorts
of blood-thirsty weapons. Death or dislo
cation will most assuredly be my lot.” I
grew as pale as a sheet; the perspiration
stood in large drops upon my face. I be- ■
gan to bellow like a bull of Bashan, and ■
struggle and kick with all vengeance. — '
Nothing seemed likely to avail me, and the I
machine approached that was to disable i
my powers of mastigation forever. When '
all at once the back of the chair gave way, 1
and a dozen of us were sprawling on the
floor in an instant. With the quickness of
lightning I sprang to the door, cleared eve
ry passage to the street, knocking down
al! that came in my vyay, and throwing
chairs and tables behind me to encumber
the passage to my pursuers. On gaining
the street, 1 continued running, determin- j
ed tq escape from the city as quick as pos- j
sible. 1 directed my course towards
West-Boston bridge, but just as I set my
foot upon it, the draw was hoisted for the
passage of a sloop. I turned about and
ran to the Western xkvcnuc. 1 had pro- |
ceeded a quarter of a mile upon it, when ;
I was stopped by the sight of a strange look- j
ing carriage approaching me. It was a
hearse !
“Then came my fit again I” I could no
more have endured to encounter it, than
I could have faced a hungry tiger. Alost
assuredly’ had 1 approached it. I should
have been seized and carried off; for sq my
terrified imagination whispered me. Again •
I turned and ran back. After passing |
through several streets, my terror a little .
subsided; I felt a knawing hunger—think
‘ of an unfinished dinner, and the galopades ;
1 had practised. It was now evening, and
I entered a tavern. 1 ordered a supper,
and while it was getting ready, attempted
to divert my mind from the harrowing
thoughts that occupied it, by reading the
various bills with which bar-rooms are gen
erally ornamented. But woful attempt. 1
the first that met my eye was a staring I
sheet, headed withan enormous black cos- ■
fin. and t!ie title of “ .l/i Elegy on'the Death
of Mr. John Broirn, >cho committed’ suicide
under mental derangement occasioned by
a scolding wife. <Yc." In a paroxysm ot
horror and vexation I tore the sheet to
atoms, and rushpd into the street. Al!
human things seemed combined to drive
me mad. It was raining cats and dogs.
"I’ll drown myself," said 1. “and make an
end of it.” t cannot say I was quite seri-.
ous in the resolution, but I ran towards lhe .
wharf, determined at least to devise some
means of escaping from the city by- water.
But how idle to struggle against the de
crees of fate ! Passing through Broad
street, 1 stumbled into a cellar among a
troop of Irishmen, who mere holding a
make over the dead body of one of their
countrymen. I lost my senses by-the kill,
an«l the Paddies having settled the matter ;
that 1 mas kilt, resolved to bury us both j
together, in order to save time.
I know not how it happened, but when | !
came to myself I was scampering oil’ at full ,
speed with the whole troop in pursuit, calli ig j
out to me to come back and be buried dacetitly !
like a jantlcman. The upshot of it was that I j
fell mto lhe dock.
The Humane Society’ must toll the rest. I j
am still alive, and have not been buried, though j
I consider it a downright impossibility to avoid '
the catastrophe much longer. I now feel dis- [
posed to take lhe matter into my own hands, j
and fairly entomb myself for some short and !
sale space of tim-, hoping this may break the
spell. Reader, have pity on mo. Six months
a<ro 1 quite filled a capacious easy chair, and |
now you might truss me into an cel-skm. The j
Three Perils of Man have long been notorious: ;
but there are two others that might make the
number five—a Deputy Sheriff, and a Dead Set.
Jones' Travels in Egypt.]
I’ASII VS HAKKM.
AVc are the only Christians wh > have (
ever been admitted into the Pasha’s Ila- j
rem. We were there twice. The first }
time was a mere visit, but the second was j
to spend the day. I must endeavour to I
describe it for you. At the gate we were ;
received by a dozen male attendants, who •
led us to the garden gate, where we found
three girls playing upon different Arab
instruments, while two others were sing- i
ing and two dancing, magnificently dressed >
in crimson and blue cloth, embroidered 1
in gold—the full pantaloons hanging over l
the foot,just allowing an embroidered slip- 1
per to be seen—a jacket, tight to the shape. |
without sleeves, open a little upon the chest
where appeared a chemise ot blue or white
gauze, closely spangled sleeves of the
same, hanging large and full to the elbow
and down behind in a dozen plaits ; and !
on the side and top ofthe head, large sprigs ;
of diamonds. A sash of gold tissue, with}
a deep gold fringe, finished the dress.}
Vol. IV—No. 37.
These pretty creatures preceded us to the
»a!acc door, where we were met like old
friends by the Sultana, her maids of honor
and attendants, to the number of a hun
dred at least. The great hall of state in
to which we were ushered, was an im
mense one. lined and floored with white
upirble : in the centre a basin fifteen feet
-quare, and a large fountain, from which
the clearest water was playing ; the ceiling
ric'dv painted and gilt : one side ot the hall
lined wit!) "tinmans of white silk, embroid
ered m g >ld. and a beautiful Persian car
pet spread in front of them. As soon as
we were seated, coffee and pipes were
handed t-> us. The Sultana is about 35
years old, with a fine face, though the eye
is stern -d’gnilied and affable in her man
ners. Her dress was i chali, made in
Turkish style, only more closed over the
neck. On the head was a sort of skull
cap, f >j-med ens rely o£diamonds. Around
thi< was twisted an ‘mbroiilered kerchief,
and on the left side, down near the ear,
was placed a sprig of flowers, made of
enorm ms diamonds ; earings, a single pair,
shaped like a drop, as large as the end of
mv little finger, and on her little finger
was a most superb diamond ring. Around
ns stood the hundred attendants, dressed
in colored silks ; and every one, even of
the lowest rank, with heads covered with
diamond's. The pipe stems and sockets
ofthe coffee cups were also covered with
these precious stones. Such a glitter I
never sav before. An Armenian woman
who spoke Italian, was there as our inter
pretress. Our gloves and buckles excited
their admiration, indeed our whole dress.
I don't know that I was ever so hauled
and pulled about as 1 was that day-
We were taken ail over the palace, and
it vied throughout in elegance with the
great hall. At half past twelve, we were
led by the Nultam down to the reception
room to dinner. As we entered, girls
bearing silver basins approached ; others
with pitchers poured water over our hands;
others again presented us towels. On tho
centre of the Persian carpet was placed
a small table, about a foot square, covered
with a cloth of gold tissue. On that was
a circular class waiter, about three feet in
diameter. In the centre was a dish of
roast mutton. The Sultana sat down,,
with my mother and self on either side ot
her ; then E , and G and a lady
ofthe court, formerly a slave of the Pasha’s
now married to a colonel. Ihe interpre
tress stood and carved lor us. Ihe china
was French and handsome —sil\ er knives
and forks, <fcc., which the Sultana knew
not how to use. Sue punched at tiie meat
in the most unmerciful maimer. AV hen
we sat down a napkin was placed on each
of our laps ; another embroidered in gold,
laid over the right shoulder ; and a third,
and a finer one, laid upon the lap, to wipe
the m mth with. Some ol the slaves fann
ed us—some held the di.lcrent dishes—
others salvers ot knives, and others again
silver pitchers, and so on. That with the
beautiful dresses, the glitter ol gold anti
diamonds, the divan, the spacious hall
and fountain, it seemed that the scenes of
the Arabian Nights were realized before
I me. I wish you could have seen it. Our
j otilv regret was that this beautiful scene
i could not be euj >yed by some of our
! friends.
It is said there is no pleasure without
pain. Truly it was so in this case. The
' dinner was almost too qnicli lor us. We
counted thirtv-nine different dishes, served
one at a time, and of each we were obliged
to eat a little. And so strangely served
as they were ! The first five dishes were
ofmulton. rice. &c... —then a sweet dish—
then fried lish mid fried lemons— then meat
—then another sweet dish—next fried fish
and nuts—and so on till the thirty-ninth,
which was stewed rice and bonny-clabber.
The glass salver was then taken away,
and a silver one, with melons, peaches,
grapes. Nc., replaced if. When we rose
from the table, the girls with (lie basins
knelt before us. ami hands were washed
as before, when pipes and coffee were
given us to finish off with. While we
smoked, the Sultana retired to prayers,
which she does live times a day. Then
if you could have witnessed the scene, you
would have imagined us amongst a parcel
of great children. Oh! how we were
dragged about, patted and pulled; each
woman declaring that we belonged to her,
and should not speak to the others. At 3
o’clock we were sent for to depart, as tho
gentlemen were satiated with smoking,
and could wait no longer. They had
been with the Governor all this time.
The Sultana held us tight, and said tho
Uapidan Pasha had no business to send
for us ; and it was 4 o’clock before we
could getaway. We made a great pro
cession through the garden. First went
the uiMsical. dancing, and singing girls ;
then the Sultana and ourselves, slaves
bearing 'ai sos peacock's feathers over out
heads; and then came the attendants.
At the garden gate, sherbet was handed,
when we took a kind farewell qf our hos
pitable Sultana, and were consigned to
the care of the male attendants, and at tho
carriage found the gentlemen impatient to
hear all about what we had seen.
S r vRTIXG CHILDREN IN THE WORLD.
Many an unwise parent labors hard and
lives sparingly all his life for the purpose
of leaving enough to give his children a
j start in the world, as it is called. Setting
a young man afloat with money left him
by his relatives, is like tying bladders under
: the arm of one who cannot swim—ten
i chances to one he will loose his bladder*
; and go to the bottom. Teach him to
■ swim and then he will never need the blad
ders. Give your child a sound education
and you have done enough tor him. See
; to it that his morals are pure, his mind
cultivated, and his whole nature made
subservient to the laws which govern man,
and you have given him what wifi be of
more value than the wealth of the Indies.
; You have given him a -start’ which aomis
; fortune can deprive him of. Tlie earlier
vou teach him to depend upon his own
I resources the better.