Newspaper Page Text
OY JAMES W. JOA'ES.
*lh3 Southern hig,
pirsLisisn hv rv Saturday morning.
TE uii.VlS.
Three dollars per annum, payable within six
months after the receipt of the fit 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 tn advance; and nc
paper will be discontinued until all arrear
ages are paid, except at the option of the pub
lisher. Persons requesting a discontinuance,
of their Papers, are requested to bear in mind,
a settement of their accounts.
Advertisements will be inserted at the usual
rates; 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 establishment,
must be post paid in order to secure attention
‘jgp- 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
groes, must be published four months.
Notice that Application will be made for Letters
of administration, must be published thirty
days and Letters of Dismission, «ix months.
For Advertising—Letters of Citation. 8 2 /o
Notice to Debtors and Creditors, (40 days) 325
Four Months Notices, 4 00
Sales of Personal Property by Executors,
Administrators, or Guardians, 3 25
Sales of Land or Negroes by do. 4 75
Application for Letters of Dismission, 4 50
Other Advertisements will be charged >5 cents
for every thirteen lines of snr 11 type, (or space
equivalent,) first insertion, atm 50cents for each
■weekly continuance. If published every other
week, 62 1-2 cents for each continuance. If
published once a month, it will be charged each
time as a new advertisement. For a single
insertion, 81 00 per square.
PROSPLOTS
OF
A NEW LITERAR Y JOURNAL,
entitled
THE BACHELOR’S BUTTON.
THE Second Number of this Periodical is
now before the Public. Ths very kind fa
vor with which it has been accepted prompts
the Editor to make renewed exertions to place
the work on a firm foundation, and to make it
worthy of the patronage it is likely to receive.
No effort was made to obtain subscribers, no t
publicity was given to the design, until the first I ;
number was ready for distribution, because |
the Editor was unwilling to make promts, -s
which lie might be unable to fulfil; and he was
anxious that the public, before it gave encour
agement or approbation, should see 'he work, >
and have an opportunity to jttilge of its merits. ,
A short notice of the Editor’s intentions ami
wishes accompanied the first number, and the
approbation and indulgence with which his ,
friends and the public generally received it, gave,
to him hopes which he had not previously in
dulged.
That Alabama would give a handsome sup
port to such a publication was a matter wt ex
tremc doubt; —owing more, to her common Lo
and agricultural enterprise, than to any " J'..
of liberality, or to the absence of a spirit for lit
erary advancement. But the avidity with wnic.i
fortune has been hunted down, has not taken
the taste of her Schol .rs; —and the increase
■of wealth has produced the best ol all results:
Fthe opening of the heart, tin.' the gushing foitn
of the best of feelings: generosity, and a desire
to promote every laudable enterprise.
The Bachelor’s Button is the only period
ical in the State devoted entirely to Original Li
teratuie. It is printed in a handsome style—
(not inferior in that respect to the best m the
country.) The very medium of publication is
calculated to inspire young ambition to vigor
ous exertion, and to make the old and experien
ced writer happy in th<- privilege of sending
thoughts into the world in sue'i a garb. Alaba
ma has talent—talent of an order calculated to !
command the admiration of her neighbors, |
however old their experience ; however celebra- [
ted their Literati. It is the proudest wish of I
the Editor that he may call that talent into ac-;
tive exercise; yet he cannot hope to be able to !
do that without the hearty approbation of bis J
friends, and their earnest concurrence in promo-j
ting a cause for whose success he is willing to j
devote his entiie time and attention.
A Liter rv Advertiser will be attached to j
the Bachelor's Button, containing Notices which j
relate to Schools, Colleges, Books, Banks, lusu- j
rance Companies, &c at the following rates :
For one insertion, per page, $lO 00 I
“ “ “ 1-2 page. 600 (
« « “ 1-4 page, 400 '
By the year, per page, 60 00 j
“ “ " 1 2 page, 30 00
“ “ “ 1-4 page, 15 00
This arrangement will not interfere with the !
literary department, as the advertising sheets i
will be entra. Persons wishing to advertise in j
the third Number, will send in their notices mi- :
mediately.
Mr. VV. W. McGuire is our City Agent, and ;
is authorised to act lor us. Any letter m com
munication left at his Book Store, will receive!
immediate attention.
TERMS—"The Bachelor's Button” will be
published Monthly in the City of Mobile, in a '
pamphlet containing 64 large octavo pages of
entirely original matter, on fine paper, and on |
new and clear tv pc, at t ive Dollars a year,
payable in ad ranee.
Editors friendly to the work will please publish :
this circular.
WM. R SMITH, Editor and Proprietor
GEORGIA, CLARK COUNTY.
Kuh*
Inferior Court sitting for Ordinary purposes, '
adjourned Term, 12th June, 1837.
IT appearing to the Court that Dowell Elder 1
in his life time executed his bond f >r titles to
William Appling, for one Douse and Lot m the I
Town of Watkinsville, occupied by Mrs- Ste
phens, and a Lot fronting said lot joining Bar
nett, and the Land joining said Lots and bound- :
ed by Murray and Harden, now in possession :
of Mrs. Stephens; audit further appearing to
the Court that said Bond has been regularly as
signed to David Stephens deceased, and the eon- '
ditions of said Bond having been complied with.
It is therefore ordered that the Administr itor of
the said Howell Elderdec’d, be directed to make I
and execute, titles to the said House mid Lot, :
and adjoining premises embraced in said Bond,
within the time prescribed by law to the bi ns
general of the said David Stephens deceased,
or shew cause to the contrary—And it is fur
ther ordered that this Rule be published once a
month, for three months m one of the put lie
Gazetts of this State.
I certify that the foregoing is a true extract
from the minutes of said Court, this 13th June,
1837.
GREEN D. HAYGOOD, p. c. c. o.
Jone 17, —7—tnSru
«■ «
V 7! W X '■'-
Wligta.
We find in “ Tan’s Edinburgh Magazine” ths fob
lowing beautiful lines by “I icz.”
W AKI JtG It St E A SSS.
What am I ? Nothing; but. not so art thou,
8 ju! of rny thought! Byron.
Come to my sou', ye virions wild and bright'
Evening is on tha earth ; the still moonlight
Is deep’ning o’er the sea.
Oh life is sad without your thrilling power I
Forsake me not! but in the silent hour
Hastengto me !
They come, they come I I see them on their way:
Fancy is there with all her rich array
Os fairy dreams;
The future spreads its vista bright before me ;
The star of hope is softly shedding o’er me
Its glorious beams
Memory is there ! With eyes sadly sweet, —
She flings a mournful offering at my feet,
Called from past years.
Its hue is of the violet, dark, likegr.ef;
And each sad scentless flower and faded leaf
Is dimmed with tears!
'Tis woven from the past —ofjoys long fled,
Sweet feelings wasted, fond affections dead—
A dreamy store I
: oung passionate hopes, that passed like summer rain,
And looks of love, that I shall meet again
No more ! no more!
But see I the bright one comes! the wild, the free !
Spirit divine of heavenly poesy !
Away sad mem ries now !
She twines a garland from immortal bowers,
And bids me hope to place its deathless flowera
Around my brow.
Lo! through the future, shadowing its light,
A phantom rises on my darkened sight,
Far mid the gloom—
A vision of a low and silent spo f ,
Where hopes and fears shall be alike forgot.
Within the tomb!
Shall it be so ? and must my visions fade ?
And must this wildly-bounding heart be laid
In that dark bed,
Where earth!}’ thoughts must never more intrude,
But all is stern and voiceless soli ude,
Dismal and drsan 7
Hark a deep voice seems sounding through the sky, j
"To scan the future with a mortal eye
I
It is not given ;
The joys of earth are vain and transient gleam?—
Turn thee away, then, from its idle dreams,
And rest in Heaven.” ’ >
From the Knickerbocker for July.
chapter xii.
I have said, that owing to the aimless. ■
reckless course iff life which I pursued, as- ;
ter leaving college. 1 hst my place in s ici- !
etv, attd found mvself without friends, and I
a marked man. Tins began my education, :
< began to look about me, and to think.— I
What! my acquaintance slight me as tin- I:
worthy their notice ! What could be the i
cause of this ? Could 1 live under such a
ban? I resolved to reform. The effect!
upon me of this rule in society proves its |
xcellence. I was at first staggered. I
knew not that ruin was so near at hand.j
< was awakened from the trance of vears. ;
i determined to make a des; erate effnt. j
‘ collected the am unt of mv debts, and i
gave thorn in to my father, telling him. as I
coollv as 1 cotd !. tii.it 1 had determined t > I
leave the city—to retire up n the smallest (
sum possible for the most secluded life,
lie paui my debts,cuormeus as they were. ;
Witiicut bidding adieu to any one, for 1 did ,
irt think myself ofc msequence enough t > ;
take leave ! rin iHy, !,in a few days after
mv determination, was on my way to
.
1 took with me a few books, and they :
were welle.hosen. 1 had S ■ >tt an ! Byron,
itlackenz.e’s works, the British Essayists.
Sterne, S it-nst lie’s Es ays, Bacon’s Es
says, Jeremy Taylor’s il -iy Living and
D) ing.and Siiaksp arc Xes! I took, to,
Burn’s poems and lett rs. His letters!
more than his poems ' a -mtred, or lov■ <!
I to read, for we feel nr.re sympathy for '
Burns on account of ins h ard st niggles.
[ than because he wrote " l am O’Shanler,’
|or the‘Twa Dugs.’ These were ail the ;
[ books I took with me. 1 mention them
I with a feeling of pi ide, that rny taste was \
I so pure at so early a day, ami in spite of;
jmy idleness ami diss paled habit*, ifi
[ were to select now fr< m the whole field ofi
j literature —throwing in the old English ;
prose w riters by Yotmg—l would not give j
;up cue <■!' these b stipposmg I could
• have no more in number.
; The pleasure I received in reading these ;
works—the tears 1 always shed over the '
; Alan of Feeling—proveto me that i was:
| not so abandoned as 1 ti'O'.’.cht myseiiat this i
'time, or at least, that we ml have some i
1 good about us, ii.oveve? low v,e may stand j
lin toe estimation of tm: wor <i. > think
there is a double less<ai t > be ieurned from i
ithis: first, that ah impress: m, however'
trite and unimp u tant tliev may appear at ;
the time thev are b -irg made, never should \
be deemed oi small wi iglif. because their ;
j effects are not seen immed.ateiy : ami se- |
■ cond, that we sh mid i>e careful lest we do !
i liie greatest injustice to our fellow men, bv i
j looking on the surface of character only, •
i which, from some accidental cans.-, mav i
i appear rough and dtsgusting. while the I
' seeds of good feeling and hom >rab!e exer-1
i lion lie hid from our sight, and only want !
I opportunity to command our applause. ;
i W itii these few silent, voiceless friends,;
1 took up my residence in the village of
lAi , a village of New-I'imiand. The :
pleasantness oi tb.e situation determined I
my locati >ll. for the advantages of study I
i can be had in any place. There was a I
quiet air about tins village, which encliant
ed me. It lay several miles from any olh-,
; er, on the banks of a r.ver, upon a table- '
j land. One long street extended through j
: it, in a straight line. This street was very |
i wide. The houses were not crowded up-j
■ on tiie dusty path, but placed several rods I
1 back, withagreen lawn in front, and paint j
led while. It did not lock like a business |
place —tins was another good pent —but:
it seemed like the residence of ok! r.nd res-;
i pectable families. There was fine scene-1
i ry about it, too; high hills, and deep val-!
j leys, watered by swift and clear brooks.;
There was, ami is, ami ever will be, an air |
i o! casv qoinfort about this place, to strike j
I ‘
•UVHCRE POWERS ARE ASSUMED WHICH HAVE NOT BLCN DELEGATED, A NULLIFICATION <F THE ACT IS THE RIGHTFUL REMEDY. .
A'ii'a£3'.X ) 3, ai&SsdU* i.i? ii'lLa4s>A I',
strangers and foreigners. There is wealth
without ostentation : hospitality without
tb.e appearance of obligation; and kind
iess and ben -.volence, ever to be remem
bered. Virtue is natural to a refined
■n ind.
I entered my name in the office of a gen
tleman of rather retired habits. Fie had
in excellent library, both of law b >< ks and
miscellaneous reading, and read much him
self; but he was considered by the people
as rather an oddity, and a book-worm. —
He rarely appeared in court, ami clients
never came to his office; yet he had made
a fortune by his profession. I will venture
’•> swear that he made his money with
clean hands ami a quiet conscience. He
was rarely seen off of his own territory,
and never attended a public meeting in
his life, except t > hear a sermon. His Ins- i
tory is somewhat singular. He was a,
shoe-maker, until thirty years of age, and .
then studied law, and supported himself,;
for the first years of his practice, by mak- •
ing shoes in his garret, as it is said. A j
man of few never spoke first to :
any one, but always listened mure than he
j talked, even in the company of a fool. '
With thp coarsest features and roughest '
skin I ever saw. and the ugliest face, he had
the most benevolent smile in the world. I
He netqr killed a fiy, or trod upon a worm, •
th <ugh a lawyej> w He was much respect- j
ed by the older and better sort of people,
and by those of’lfis profession, who were j
glad td find their' opinions supported bv
his. ’ |
Himself and wife constituted his family. I
■and they‘lived as quietly as two mice.— i
"Every thing was kept as neat as wax.— I
The house, and office contiguous, stood /
| upon a slight elevation, opposite the village |
church and tavern, shade ; by umbrageous i
trees. A stray "tick or stone never re-1
trained long within ten rods of the place, i
He was the pattern < f order, and neatness,'
and regularity, in every thing he did or j
j possessed. 1 never saw an unpleasingex- [
i pression upon the face of this gentleman, :
j except when some one of the choir got i
I out of key in church ; and then his coun-:
I tenance would suddenly be drawn up int !
i knots, that, it would could never be
I unravelled ; for with a coarse body, he
\ possessed the most susceptible soul, and
I refined tastes in the arts. Retirement and
| self-examinati'.-n had made him appear
| diffident; yet it was far from being an un
graceful kind of bashfulness, but rather
I that drawing back, as if he mistrusted your
■ power fully to enter into his feelings. But
■ to return.'
1 commenced the task of study, and stuck
r it f as!oi t tin. ■; but the feeling that
fdlows tuc discharge of a duty soon be
came no novciiy, and I began to be quite
sick of being so very good. Every thing
was t‘>o smooth. I always loved contrast;
and here are some verses that I wrote, the
first week I spent in the country :
Tear? are like showers, that wet the sun-burnt soil,
Aid freshen quick its verdure. After toil,
Sweet is the laborer’s rest.
Afllic'.ion gives az st
Tojov, and tears are blest.
Clear the dull channels of the brain and head;
O.irrmiles are brighter,
Our hearts are ligl er :
For memory loves to contrast joy with sorrow ;
We weep to-day, that we may laugh to-morrow.
This is the o ictrine that has always
: swayed me; and ii life at limes becomes
100 quiet, I s the imagination t> w irk to j
conjure up s >’no wrong >r injustice I sup- ’
1 pose myself t-> hate suffered, and work
; myself into a s .-te of superior wretched
ness. The freak passes away, and ’am
very much pleased, and much excited, bv
what would be but sources ofc inimni en- ;
j winent to the equable and reasonable. |
Beside, there was another obstacle t > I
' studious I:ab:'s—w: man. I was among a I
' new race of bcin’is. Women in the conn- |
try and in the cify are as different as the j
barn-door fi'.wl is i'r • n the bright-plmnag'd !
bird of the untredden wild. Lithe first j
■ place, city girls are not so hands mie as j
those living in the e mntry. The former I
I excel in dres<. and liie wavy lines ofyraee; 1
they understand the art < ‘showing off their :
feet and ankles t > bettor advantage ; but i
i they lack the < ne thing needful—the nature.
' They walk up m tlie pa\ed street, not the j
i orassv lawn, where everv so >tstep is m a i
I line of poetry. They have grown up sur-]
I r'tiuded by artificial refinements ; in the j
si-klv glare oi'lamp.-, and a sin iky al.mos |
' gla re : their mi:; have net been tutored :
:bv the goddess < 1 nature. They do mt :
; s:> often see - ling sun, the burtii-hed
i clouds, the br'g::t ar ; lerv of heaven. Thev .
>' feel not tin balmy air, the dewy freshness
ofthe m u-.ii'mg. 'ifi.cy do not hear the
j songs of birds; neither do they see t lie spark- j
! ling rivulet. lDw time is it poss ble they
■ can be equal t.otuosu in affections, tastes.
I health, and beauty, who see, and hear, and ;
j feel all these things '
i The daughters of people in moderate’;
I circumstances m tan country are well e.’-
i ucated. They usuaiiv spend a winter in :
' iov.ii, and acipme a l that can bo learned I
i. f dress, allhou.oii tliev depend i.ttie up m i
j the‘aid of onicmeii!.’ They usually mi-i
I dersla;id mus:c rm.l drawing. '1 hey read
: a great de; I. Tiie society they moot is !
i pure; ir t. varnished rottenn ss. Their j
i habits are s.mple. a id their tastes elegant. :
! Tliev are with nt doubt the most fasciu-;
■ ating Momcii in the world ; and are sought ■
I in matrimony by city merchants and iaw-
I yers, who have, amassed 1 animes, ami be-1
I gm to look about i. r some domestic com
fort. while the city miss, who is never in
; pmblic without being absorbed in her ap
i pearancc, and dress, and walk, and who is j
I aiwa.s under the restruuit of some forced .
; [ rettin ss, as she Hunks m is suffered to
i dash the Years away in idleness ami icily,:
j idi her nerves are w< rn out, and her health ,
1 and. beauty gone, beyond the arts of i aim; i
i or she marries very youi'g, and s ion fades,
I and is Lid u the>iieil ; or she devotes her-'
I sulf to iivmg her life over again in her
| daught t, l er c mm rpart.
I j soon fcituf.l my.:u-f, in the society ofthis
! village, voit.ng eveiy day. 1 could noli
i withstand the temptati m. It was all no-1
j velty. Such fine healthy countenances, |
; open air, engaging conversation, offered in
everv house,that Ir an law. 1 turned to low.
Blessed exchange I —from bar m and fem
me, and contingent remainder, to ponder
over the unwritten poetry of beauty, and
the silver-tongued voices of young imagi-
I native maids, who treat you as if you were
■ their brother, the moment their parents
I show, by their dep irtment, that they have
! confidence that you are a gentleman.
j How seldom is this confidence abused by
lan American ? Who ever heart! a case of
j seduction, in one of our c mntry milage--,
j amongthe better classes of society—am -ng
: equals ! These accidents, which our city-
■ calendars register in the city, arn ni *stly
i the handiwork of foreigners. Gallantry.
| conjugal infi lelity, ;s n< t a vice of good so-
I cietv here, as in France or England. Men
land women can be elegant, and happy,
j and contented, with out the excitement of
intrigue, to give a dash ol romance to the
j career ot a fine Lady Anybody, orbewitch
i ing Sir Nob >dy.
I defy the nicest art to circumtent one
I of our American girls, brought up as young
; ladies are brought up in our opulent coun-.
I try villages. Her very innocence protects
! her. She will not understand y>ur pas
' sion, if it. verge- lo freedom ; think you ,
j drunk or crazv; any thing, but sen ms in j
1 your wild words and lo k«, and escape
i from you as soon as she can, and probably j
; gi and tell her mother, who will take care j
i von do not see her very often. And this
! shall all be done, and brought about, and
i no fuss be ma le, either.
I I happened to maks the acquaintance
j here oi a fine intelligent girl of my >w i :
I age—twenty. Site had found out a good (
[deal about the world in bo ks. and some
-1 what by observation in society. Herl
: reading had been of a peculiar cast. Sue |
j had read Byron from top to bolt m, T »m I
I Moore, all the novelsand poetry she could !
i get hold of; and. without any meth >d or I
: direction, she had studied philosophy, tn >- !
| ral and natural, skimmed metaphysics and |
i I 'gic, and knew a little Latin, and s ane j
i French. When quite young, she was call- i
’ ed a ‘ smart girl;’ every b >dy prophesied !
! she would be a wonder of intelligence anti j
beauty ; and she was. Her pers m was as j
remarkable as her mind. Os the medium i
stature in woman, with a form finely pr >-1
portioned and graceful, you forgot every |
thing else about her, when you encounter- I
ed her large black eyes, of unc unrn m :
depth of expression. 'This kind of eye is j
rare, though we sometimes find it among i
the inhabitants of the .South, It seems as |
if it reached tar back into the head, and |
contained the means of looking into your I
own heart, while the beholder is at a loss '
to fix its own expression. There is pas-1
sion, love, self-possession, indifference, an- ;
ger, scorn, dwelling in it; either to be cal- I
led out in an instant, as the mind varies. !
Her complexion was a dark brunette ; her j
n >se and lips were nicely formed, and her \
teeth e» en and regular; her forehead very !
high and broad, set off’ majestically by a ;
profusion of hair as black as the ravens .1
wing.
The first time I ever saw her, was one |
evening when I called at her father's. In '
the movement that foil owed my entrance I
into the room, her hair bv accident or de- I
sign fell and enveloped her whole bust. :
tier dark eves gleamed through its folds, j
and all her striking '.-harms were the more j
enhanced, when half concealed by such '
rich draperv. 1 was taken by surprise. 1 |
[ had never seen such a woman. She re- [
I minded me of something I had read ■■ fin j
eastern tales—b.ouris of paradise—some- i
filing very lovely, and passionate, and de-1
voted.
Aly imagination was inflamed, and I lov-1
|ed Iter upon the instant, and did t >r years I
after; and now I can.'id say but I feel i
some regrets that fate should have parted |
us. But we never could have been happy !
together as man and wife. Sue had no- j
sy-tem of thinking or acting, mid I certain
ly had n uie, and never shad have. We i
, were then, b ith, the creatures of impulse. I
and perhaps it is better as it is. She was i
mucii my superi' rin self-control. Equal
ly acted on bv impulse, I yielded to the
whim of the moinei t in c ui.luel ; she fe.t (
tiie desire. Lui sustanieil hersand hei
feelings preyed upon her happiness.
i very so u alter this first meeting saw :
her at a ball. We danced ami walked to
gether. Sue had the reputati on of bi ng
a coquette, in the village, and i was mark- !
ed as the next victim to be offered, it; the I
uinids oi'aii present.
indeed 1 was a fit subject. I knew n<> :
iliiiig then of the faults oi women. I had
sisters, ami thought all women pure and
saint-i'ke, like my dear cousin. I never !
cotlid attach an improper sentiment to any
ol tiie sex. J cannot now think them mean ;
ami deceitful, though I have strong proof
oi'their being s>. lam wiiimg to be d-- i
i ceived m this respect, i hope I always i
mav be. 1 make it a principle to think
■ rnvseh mistaken, when a woman ol respec-:
table standing in society appears to be m
1 suspected nothing wrong in th s case. :
j I was excited and happy, and I did n it i
[look to mar my own enj >yinent. I was
fascinated.although diss Clair did not ap-1
i pear so well in a ball-room as in a simple I
' dress at home—l mean not so loveable.
Dressed hi rich ornaments, she looked too
! unapproachable, too like a queen, an imli- (
!an queen, if you will; her high ami com-:
iwamlmg foreiiead, her g'aiicmg eye, her
: uiishi imvitig gaze. And lheii she dal not ■
dance wen. Sue often told me si; ■ h;.:ed ,
uie tr- able. 1 think sire was i ~j mt. ,iec
tuai to care mucii lor dancing, or her ear ;
was in iamt. Sue nevct satig ; ta • 11g,i :
i believe slie loved l ie music ol the drmu ;
. and fife. Do not inter, kind reader, that
she was masculine—far from it. i havej
I seen the tears roll out from her open eves, i
i when she was strongly aifce.t d bv -ome i
pathetic tale, or s >me choice p >eti v ; ami
when in our walks ami rides we stopped]
to gaze upon sonic b autiiul .t grand scene
oi nature, she would weep from the v .rv
excess ol her delight-—perhaps from s une
I association she did nit confide io me.—:
i When at home,in a natural state of num!,
i surrounded by her family, and engaged in'
i her du* : es, sh s was "11 defi ate att-;it ; r
. the wants ■ f others.
I had hardly b come n-qna’ntod w-rh
• her, when she smddenlv i' ft t o ■ village f r
I an absence of throe m -ntlis. ? eann t de-
■ scribe the pa n I underwent during tha'
:I f ine. 1 <-mdd u->t study >r read. e\ n m>-
; I vels. She pr--rn'se-l to corresp-md with
: i me, and all Jd d was t > wr'te I‘tters t her.
i I wrote evervdav. and nt night throw them
■ j into the firn. Tliev did not su.t me. -
fi S >metimes thev were too warm. Wliaf I
. I had wr’tfen in the nr ruing, seemed a l;f
--f i ferent thing in the afternoon. I was n->w
■ ; angry, now penitent, and in that c-mfl '-t ug
I state >f mind which I wers. particularly
. i young ones, know so well; and wh'cdi I
■ : will venture to sav thev a 1 ! agree is the
! most unenviable slate of feeling in the,
. ' world.
’] At last she returned. S'w won! ' not
I see me fir a week, f r s tim canse or ther
I—l never c mid d scovr what. When I i
I did see her. at last, she re-rniv • I me w th
j stately c ddness. I hint know what t> ]
mak’ of it. It made mt f-ei very nnha >- j
pv. and I recollect ! d-1 .u 4 think if h'am- 1
ing her. but supp ised the fault lay in mv- i
sef.
This fickleness of he-s d: Into vd my i
i pas dm, but rather inflamed it. D p ing i
j these forma! visits, there was always a look I
j given, or a flower, -n- some aptie.’l to me !
in a matter of litc-ra’iire, from wli’reh I :
drew etic uiragement that she was n it in- '
different t > me—s miethtng I always car-!
rind awav t > dwell u;mii with pleasure: I
that kept her in mv thoughts, and kept me j
J from giving up the pursuit of such a charm- ]
j ing object. I
j Things went on in this way fur week-. I
I At last, if my calls were not frequent, she j
: would ridicule my apathy t • society ; if ’ j
; wa k ed with another lady, I could see her ;
I eyes flash with indignation when she met I
; me. Sue evidently c nsidered me as her
j property, and I wasd mined to submit pa
i tienly to a'l her caprices.
: I now understand her. She did love
i me. as the sequel will show ; but she dared '
j hardly confess it t•> herself. She had seen I
j very few young men f’r m cities, orof much '
I rank. Her idea of vmug men <ff fortune |
i was drawn chiefly n >vels. She fear- I
I ed I was fickle, and only bent upon a little I
I amusement. She acted on the defensive. (
! Site onlv wished to be assured of my true
I affection for her, to pour out upon m • all
j the repressed tenderness of her nature. —
i Her coldness was assumed t > c >nc -al her
i feelings; for she was a creature of ex
: tremes. Heronly safety, she thought, was
Ito shield herself in frowns. Easy polite- I
' ncss would have been torture to her. Bo- j
I tore 1 left her. she usually gave me rne j
j kind word, enough, if I loved her, she |
: thought to anchor my heart to hers. She j
I knew the nature of the passion. Her ab
i se.'ice was to try me. She has told me that
I she loved me at first sight, as I certainly
I did her.
< Her father was an open-hearted man, of
i profuse hospitality. He liked me, and in
i vited me to his house whenever we met.
; He was an easy man, who had married,
| himself, from prudent motives; he could
' not imagine iiow there could be any ro
j mance in his family, if he understood the
I true meaning of the word. I rode, walk-
I ed, and sat with his daughter a good deal
lof the time. We were happv; he saw we
I were, and supposed it was the happiness
; of youth and prosperity.
He had been gay wlf. when young,
i and loved t tic girls. lie had n > rm to
I read—no M >ore to ponder • ver—ri > st->-
I ries of Petrarch and Laura to inflame his 1
. imagination. He did not se. >ur danger.
; And this, by-tha-by, is a fa ill >;' no small 1
i magnitude in the educate n of the young:
i that parents do n ,t en mgh know the r -ad
ling of th ir children. Books change wth
I lime. The novel of the present day is n• <
I more the novel of our fati.e.'s .'ay, than
; the fashion f a dandy now-a-d. v- si; e
1 fa-hion ol the exqms.ie ot the last cmirm-v.
Parents do not kn >w tin: m nds i i ;«or
j children, or the effects of their na I ng.—
i N t knowing their b oks, h w ean they
judge? Children are always reserved be
fore their parents; and as a general le
mark, applicable to children, we may-ay.
that parents know less of their •■wn clii!-
i dren than they d > ot' their neighb r-'.
They," ,od easy s mis ! suppose ail .s rijit.
Like geese, who hide their Heads, and thmk
(it geese do thmk) t u-:r b ai.es are >af. . > ■
parents shut their eyes, and hop ■ for the
best. ‘ Well,’ tney <ay. •we can't tell v. '-at
t . boo.mie . >• ■ i." ■ hi-o.e. «< tn< v ... ■
some one is prats og to i s r-e ; •he may
m ike a man: heaven, la ;e I take ran
ofh.m.’ And so Ins pi ms, c m mem: ms
lather attends > ms business, an .th c d.i
is left to the chance if o n.i ; ■ i i • I.
The effect ftheb 'oksy mm a.lm in
is immense, up m their yrmci ies. I
are so mac : a me; tailing and i -a ismb
sentiment-' >i ks > deep into t ir ,r ima- ts ;
they have s > *1 tic t > lutiirb >r c ot:t r.ici
the impressions d’liiju itm >us b ->ks. ?<ay.
society oftentimes rivets the chains ->t aba ;
impress! >n around tiieir very necks, and
custom gives it a place in their hearts. E I
ucate young iiuims as you will; that is.
S! nd th mt ■ tat seh >o| you please ; g.ve
tlietn the advantages of aec.miplis un-mits
in the a.'is and s <cmty, and at t ie s.im ■
tmi - let. them have the range ot a cirema
tii.g try, ami th '? "’i'll mevitab v very
otimi imbibe mad. r and notions for severe
>t -a s, an I hvarl-i»iirm;igs, and A imie,
,fi: aof crime. The b -oks yomig people
; of l> >t’i sex -s read, is it a considered a m..t
iCi .>fsmU. - ■•I C mst!<[ iellCv. It is lull to
' eh.i.i'.-.' t > superticia; a Ivtec —to lasln li-
able. cant.
In those oil-fed hours we steal from
sleep to pore over the exc.tmg tale, or
, tragic story, we d > more to fix our ciia-J
: racters. t > 'plant, the seeds of s mie kmd of
' principle, cither good orba I. in >ur hearts.'
than in all oursc'.iool hours, tie uy <• muted.
'fhe character <f this high and impetu-'
ous vomi<>-lady the effect, ofb . imae-;
lin ; up >ii a very susceptible tempo;
'• a n chura it
as’h.T <>wn, th mgh not so h .'i a I•' -.i.• 1
terested. Having bean, a--i thong.if. i. '
1 love before, I had a certain famil.arity ci'j
j -quaimance vithem t. ,n. l ’T was love
ove i.’ S»e I wed me. Site acted from
Is'i- mg feeling, and so did I; bit I am a
j <!i:ime I to record, that my movements
j were tempered with ayein of calculaii >n,
t.:a ; detracted from myenj >ymeut.
| But bow mucii we did enjoy! Here i
i ■ r the first time did I f ild a woman in my
| arm-, and impress upon her lips—g-ving
I1 1 that lips can give—burning kisses ! I
I ayed with the rich black hair upon her
j lor■.■h'-a-l. I kLsed her white hand, and
I -'ic’rcle I her wa st. I laid my head upon
■ o’ brg id, and felt the heavings of her
l heart.
| O.i God! what scenes of agonizing bliss!
i I never can know you again! Age, care.
J and want, have come upon mo, and 1 am
dving in a foreign knd, without one tear to
| wat.'u- my grave!
j Who., Alicfe Clair first confessed her
j love fme. .1 wai with.weeping, and an
| excess : ein ti ;n, which alarmed me.
' Her w'i 'e f-.i n • was shaken, as if by an
> agu . I had en leavored, fiir a long time,
jt > w ;;ig the secret flom her. I widied
icr to say the words, *1 dolooeyou!’ I
I w.shml I, rp -omise. ii >w can easily see j
j her ho iiaP "i. She knew me better than
I I <l. I myself. Sue saw I was capable of
j any thmg.and yet insensible to every thing,
Ib it pleasure. She was ambitious. She
! w s ;ed lier lover—her serious and true
v ■ • —' : man she expected to marry—
I> p issess stn-ngth. Perhaps she felt her
. a d weakness, and saw her need of some
i str ng staff lo iimn upon. She saw that I
i iad n t much determination in any c mr.se
; l!ia: intelereJ wit i my pleasure. Hence
I her on wiilmgiiess to acknowledge me as I
I her ! >ver. t > the w ,rl 1. Sue wished t> I
[ keep me in her chains—to hold me fr ;m j
i iliers—an t, dthougli she loved me, I am j
r nvince I, st. : i at limes there was a taint '
>f coquetry in lr-r manner to me in pub- I
lie, that made in : appear ridicn! >us. i I
could n it. would ii t, b -ar this, an I 1 de- !
termined to offer myselfto her, and in ease !
of refusal tn go—l knew n t where.
' ku > v o a it pug s > laugh ible as feigned ]
pass ri It mst subject po,>■ to a-vol Id f;
i.- üble, to play extatics, to weep tears, t > |
k : ss pass onateiy, to embrace, while the j
heart is ice. and the temper clouded ; to b : :
. playing lover, while one is thinking h -a I
long it is before dinner. 1 ha I w >rk •■! I
'mvselfiip into quite a pass: :i. I t.i ■igit i
mv while -.v,is ab •.) I n tins affair.!
I wished to be m.<rr;edffi tTv th. Icu' ! I
thmk of |.-lay ; and in th -s ■ m idsused
press my --ij w th a mad earnestness, a::d
ask her aokn 'Ade<!g,'d I >ve, wii'i all riy 1
heart, and with a teaiporary sin -,er tv.
j O . night, we were walking ’ate on the '[
| banks if a river, in a beautiful meal w. ‘
I The town was fa.’abjve us. Every s >uu;i !
lof labor was hushed, and we were alone, :
in the stillness of a moonlight night, with j
no witnesses except the stars,an I the long
shadows of our figures, as we alternately j
walked and sat by the way. The scene j
■ was a bewitching one; the river was calm.
I and reflected the heavens; the u'gut was
j baimy with now-mown nay. We were a
s live with health, and youth, and love. I
j had been singing low. plaintive airs to her.
! expressive of ill-reqiiitted affection, as we
j w.’lked al ng. She said but little. Her
I face looked pale and thoughtful, as ever
! and anmi she turned her large eyes full
j upon me. as iff > s arch my very inrn st
{ -■ml. S? was di'l.berating upon my pr •-
Iposal. 1 is misnspecting. but free an I
: opem to tei: her ail. Sll lenly she thivw
i m?r arm- rm mt my neck.an I seemed fa nt-
I mg, by ihe weight that pressed npo.i me.
'I s nt■•(! Ii -r ;;; mt ie bank ft ie river,
a:; :s . ' ■ w.ml. and sp kc n-t a wor-l,
i w'i.:-: her tears fl >wed, and her frame
tremii ■ I 1 cried out for help, hut she
s? >ppeu me; and as no one came, I waited
i::i -me !e „■ vered lierse’f Thai right we
s:U. l-.mg b; r ,o b.ank of the river, and she
gave me o r heart, and the c mpaet was
* a:-- I lr. Lie ii st k -- I ha I ever given to
■uh bps. S'- ■ th.m <• ms ssed t->\n • all
.-or .im au.i in ud gn fi-rd manner
w'ilh: m :<-• | V vh;. it charmed me. to'd
me me ro-ks -,m im-urred in yielding (■
herb -oi ;s. ! had n .thing to boast of in I
the emq . 'st,! r while it displax cd t> me
die YM’aiv . ss and- tenderness < f woman.
it to.d me how weak and inferi r I was, i
in all the essc..tia!s of a useful man. It I
certa iiiy was t.i m >si smgu’ar confession ,
;md c-mipuct that cvtirt<» k plai <■ between
man ami wo.min..since the tune Adam took I
Eve to w,..-, 1.1 t-rn gar kn of Para Hse. i
Ait.u't ns. her m inner changed toward j
p -mted out mv fauits; sh-‘ endeavored to i
ex itc me I > iionorab:e exertion. Often '
,ias shi ran away fr m me, t • farce tue to
g ■ an.l s' : ami if. v« h. n I returned, ’ ■
i> -re the marks oi immt-'J fang :e, h w hap- j
■>\ ii us.?.; to make her! Sis was aware j
tmii 1 imgi'.t rbe to respectability in my
i>l’ofe<<i u; Du! -i;. b.d w>i ku >w t: ie <TI ie, i
m L.I c-m e o.bay earty h.b; she did m t |
\.oa t .!.-riv t>.-i naiiits of i ieness i
uad iw.i .. .el; >!ic did nlkn >w how h >pe 1
less an 1 iiiniik mv pr >spe. is really were, i
11 1 rq pear imiiti’erent and col t blood 'd i
to tiie reader, h • kn >ws nothing oi’h iman ■
mdi.re. s’.irie is a p ini t > which a man I
< met r. s aiTives. whi.-li to all intents a !
mou as io i kmi ot fatality. D ;es th 1
d imk.ir-l i se his m -al ngmiry ' AVs 1 '
V. li. ii ii - f.ic lilies ire 'eadened. Is there !
a man wh > c u.ld res st f, <l. f pla -ed be
fore ins v s j t r.s !r- wasdy ng ■ f star .
\ ti m is t.iere not a m nal d a Iness oi'
t .<■ fa. n't 's. prodm I In ha >ts of idle- 1
iii'-s am! pi as.ir.'. < j : dly l> ndmg. eq ialL
calling for m l ilg 'nee? N >th ng is mi
poss.bie to God, but man’s powers, even
m lib >wn fax or, are limited; anil am
-,sj) ; -mi io thuiK, that the vicious man is
pimisiied, partly, nthis world. He s'es.
: by ihe i xam; 1 :s ar..mid him, his certain
.l.'stmv. lie is exer, in his solitary mo
ments, looking over the abyss into which
a■ ku iws hoinnst fail. He makes effort
id .rdf-rt to es ai'-'. It is all fruitless
! < n ■ sihe n wer of God as-ist him. as it
! - m-t rri •<1- s. is !ik -th ' sail
Stan -■ ip nt e shattered wre k " :
i -d s : ,an I i>k ug ai the ni nmi.i
j ave ■' . -!i,'iiff : ,e kn >ws wdi en
| gun him u. the deep. Added to tins, tiierv,
Vol. V—Ao. ii.
' • < ngs nfan nplW; ding conscience,
and the f :ar of everlasting punishment.
But there were times when we forgot
■i 1 o toleasant reflections; when we talk
led cf our prospects of happiness. I was
t • inherit a fortune—to distinguish myself
at the bar. We were to travel over Eu
•o'pe together; perhaps fi id some delight
ii! r- ’reat in the classic south, and the r e
(I loving only her) we were to spend a
life of | we and blessedness.
I '-an : ardly believe that she yielded as
implicitly to these illusions as I did. I had
g t mvself worked up into a perfect mad
man: and thought at times I knew how
f i so and fleeting were all these plans, yet
ii h -r presence, and after talking upon
such subjects, my imagination took the
reinsof my reason, and 1 made thesa fan
ciful excursions with sincerity, and took a
p'easure in the anticipation more than e
quak ! am conviw-Ad. to any they could
have affirded in reality. I do not think
she felt wi'li me here. As I remember her.
with her str mg sense, her conception ot
the ridicii! m-. and exaggeration in others,
her keen wit and cutting sarcasm, it seems
' i.m > ---.'lie ’hat she sh ''i:d. Nevertheless,
everv me is ■■ n icious of strange inconsts
tene'es ffb .ding. A scene str'k's us to
day widi awe and pathetic elff ct. which
t >-morr >w we pass c >ldly by. Every
t ling depends upon the state of the nerv
:us t< ;i an a n nt. the attending circum
stances, nr previous reading,the chain of
v uits. And by the way, this is the chief
- • f p'nil isophv. that it enables us to look
o cw'rv thing wth an investigating eye,
iud uev rt>vi•! Ito impulse. The mind
|is take i up in sound reflection, and it has
t oi" i> 1 > itself in the mazes of the ima-
I g'n.it on. Age, necessity, torpor of the
' 1; -or!, c-xn rieiiue. pr iduce the same ef
f 's while youth, and romantic ardor,
an I th ’ p ei'ical parts of life, run wild,
< . from a want of habits of reflection.
It seems, no doubt, a strange inconsis
- tau thai Idil a>t exert myself, if Iso
I vc 1 this n >ble girl. We must distin
gu.-li b'tween passion and affection. The
Ad is all reflection, and quiet yielding of
: ts own convenience for the happiness of
Lfi? i ■- 1 obje ct. Passion is the lava of
| :he v-->!.-an >, wuich covers up and ruins all
I .'s mid •■ it: affection is the refreshing
- i w. t■ ■ ge’-'e dew, making the pas
; i) 1 ‘ e earth glad. A good,
: we!:- 'g ii 1 mind would have done oth
; ’ - ■ T ’ ' bit it would likewise
j ' '• . ■ "t" e ano my tempera
• > . t ■■ 1 s, one to opp '-se
■j • • Acs not in my nature any
!03 :■ latm-e. J have al! a-
'ono i.. - ■ l-. Lia ' ' -b ertature
i .. I c-.nd am, and never
I 0; •■regidarity caus-
led iw ■. > ii.rrb, and tiie consequent
; -estj o :- ■■ rhtrebel pl - ?tt*e
' she was.ng t' me the consequen
z. : ’ ■ . . I • • • . _ A
'' cos of S'ic‘l .ah. ■ o, dissipat’as tender-
Jvns-’i-' ■ .'l. am! ’ Yvas m .ved by her
| e<’■/.■rt.-. - -ars. 3 hr. fnik’tv«'d up her
1 adiautag ■. m 1 .'. >wmg hewoif <.p -n her
knees oefor ’ me, she we.pt, herself, into
j s ;bs, fa - s me tn nnents. Then raising her
j t? arfiil eyes, slm begg'-d, she implored, she
! entreated mm to change rny c mrse of life;
loot to bring ruin upon us both; not to
bi ght mr ; raspects, by such cruel neglect
! - foverv honorable pursuit. She seemed
to f'el that every thing depended upon me;
she sa v tn 1 on the brink «.f a precipice;
■ she exerted eloqence that m ght have
j drawn tears from a statue; and I was ear
] nos*, that night, in my reschiti >ns, as 1 laid
mv head upon my pillow. But I did not
I ask assis'ance from God; and herein lay
I my error.
I have since found, that all resolutions
I are futile and useless, unless we confirm
] and strengthen them by prayer. The ve
: rv exercise of prayer is its own answer.—
Prostratimi of ourselves before God pro
i du es a calm and dispassionate frame of
(mind, and a sense of our accountability.
: As our thoughts, in such seasons, dwell up
| on the truth of an eternal existence, the
■world and : ts va ities recede, and appear
iin their true insignificance. Wethen are
I prepared tn take the first step.’in good-
I ncss. Who that has passed ou. of a life
of vice into a life of virtue, everturns back?
! Tne first step is tha important one. Let
' mat be taken, in good faith, and each suc
: seeding one opens wider and wider the
j peace of the path of virtue.
Fi Jm the Florida IVa:cl:man.
Leiter £ross» the
. loth? I'., 11 o/ the J atehman,
i Deax Sr —I ul n ssed you a note, advis.
i i g'■ 11 • '■'.' p rture fortius pine.. Wo
..iriv i Lire without merti g with a y serious
aceide .t. at i sit " t am! inter< sti..g passage.
1 stiff rid som w Fat from the cold, as did
- . lie ■ . I y : "U trav. Ilers, as we passed
Ii o:i_ii va d t mperature. A few vears
co i trip t . til.- .u o.:, w mid hav-. b eu looked
po .as Ur ly imprac ic lie. but the m»rcii
I mi rov me t Ii ;s afforded of late such fa
ilili s. tii.it oi e can go most any w here, and
tny lion'. 1 s.. "a i\ ii-.w. Aou know a
ew w ks co, ’’lain of <>ur good friends in
I Jt ... thought it impossible, owing to
ill., pressure, lo get out ot tli ■ limits of the
i t’.ii-'ty tus '.iso , bn; 1 observe, (fir I
Ih o I o.n ni p se.it ab'd ■ a.i extensive view)
| : >ofth m .4, or <,n their uay to the north.
!h • 'ii ais in.m is an a tie being, and when
i p. i'.’ I up- u by c rt..i , i cetitivis, will go,
t .-ii h l> s put -■ he s enip yas the muvv
<> Bo 010 f r tie is .1-0 a progressive
> a. -of n prop< IL d by different mo
s. 8 tn : are propel! '<l by curiosity, some
b ss y, (vi!" our friend with the fiery
nis.i.. wh ie ' i .chord minus a handsome
sun fir tn. t Jiilins,) some by one thing and
s -nb. am th r. Dut you will say that lam
< i ul't' - f-i ;,r s.- : ri : and pray, who is not?
i es d. ■ res-\ I’ a tors and Lawyers digress,
M b nti aid M cha’ ics digress, Editor’s
d cross. dS'<l ‘’b ' Ladiet? In fine, mati
s n r si ■ in a’. and so is woman. In
I’ d > ipi ie, once had the mis.
o L v ' ot wi h himself,
c lie: bit with a lady.
V f ■ -c o . as p .queut terms
s stbi. ■st e -'• liigs,. (and he