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BY JAMES W. JO YES. The Southern Whig, PU3LISIIUD EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. TERMS. Three dollars per annum, payable within six months after the receipt of the til st number, or fur 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; and no paper will be discontinued until all arrear ages are paid, except at the optica ot the pub lisher. Persons requesting a discontinuance, of their Papers, are requested to bear in mind, a settement of their accounts. SIovKRTTSEMHNTS will be inserted at the usual Tates; when the number of insertions is not specified, they will be continued until ordered out. All Letters to the Editor or Proprietor, on matters connected with the e. ablishment, must be post paid in order to secure attention (XT Notice of the sale of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guardians, must be published sixty bays previous to the day of sale. Ths s?J<i 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 groes, must be published four months. Notice that Application will be made for Letters jo administration, must be published thirty days and Letters ot Dismission? six months. ’ 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.