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UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY
VOLUME XV. B UMBER 15.
LLAR8 PER ANNUM,
»!•••( A«T«ril*l
Letter*efCkalioa ft 75
Norte* fo Debtor* and Creditor*
F.»ar MoatW N«*ieas.
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inlM, or Gairdian*
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XUisccllancotiG.
*- • tWritten for tbo Southern Whig
A TALC OF EVERY-DAY LIFE.
Messrs. Editors:—If the following
sketch will serve to interest your read
ers, my object in writing it will be at
tained. Though it does not detail mov
ing scenes “by field and flood,” it pos
sesses the merit of being strictly true:
On a beautiful Sabbath in May, '42,1
left the little village in which I Imd been
• residing some two years, for the pur
pose of attending church some 6 or 8
miles distant in the country. At the
outskirts of the village, I met iny old
friend M , on his way to church in
town. After informing him of his disap
pointment, as our minister would not be
. able to preach that day, •* Come,” said
1*“go with me to the country, where the
air is more salubrious, and where there is
little of that sickening affectation socamr
roon in our towns and villages—where
the natural, unsophisticated manners of
tho pretty country losses add a thou
sand fold to their personal beauty. 1
like beauty, Captain, ns it once was, nnd
still ought to be; but these Miss Fidgets
I cannot bear—although it may all he
well enough, as there is occasionaly a
Mr Fidget to match ; and it they can
enjoy themselves better this way, then
I have*nothing to say. But give me a
plain sensible woman—one that would
feel an interest in home, nnd make it
comfortable. I have always jfljpgglit
that if fortune would be kind enongli to
furnish me a wife who would try to
•mike home what it ought to be, I would
be the happiest man on earth—but bit-
. ter is the cup of the married man who
is forced to seek abroad that happiness
which should bind him to bis home.—
Give mo a woman who has a soul—one
who, instead of always sighing for the
amusements of fashionable watering-
places, etc., would esteem it her great
est pleasure to remain at home and ad
minister to the hoppinessof her family.
Those who are always sighing for fash-
isters greeted my ears, but brought no
* , r , solace to iny wounded heart. Hastily
\ ionabie" pleasure, "are^not"wive,'for *>andlingup my clothing,and determin-'
would not be for you or I, Captain.”
you or 1, Captai
True, sir; true enough. * JFomen
are to be found every where, but tripes
seldom”
“ Captain, will you answer flfc one
question, if it is not an uufair one?”
“ Certainly 1 will.”
“ Well, then, I have often thought I
would ask you why you' have never
married—you seem to be very fond of
the society of ladies—your situation has
always been easy, and you seem to en
joy life as well as most men.”
“ Well, my young friend, as you seem
to have centered vour mind upon n
point so easily attained, I will tell you,
sdthough I seldom refer to that portion
of my life's history; for it is one of
sorrow to me. But I ought to submit
meekly to my fate, ns it is our duty to
bear with the dispensations of Provi
dence without murmuring. You say
my circumstances have been easy.—
*Tis truo they have been, siuce ’you
knew me; but they have not always
been so. The same Providence which
ct one time seemed to frown upon
me, has at other times smiled most pro-
' 5 pitioosly. I was a poor boy, apprentic
ed to a^arpenter, and at the age of
tweotyve, turned loose into the world
like a bird liberated from its cage, with
out a dollar in my pocket, or a friend to
counsel or assist me. But I was young
aod athletic, and knew no such word as
fail. With a light heart, and “ with
out parse or script,” I started upon this
■Id’s voyage, determined that if in-
try, economy and integrity could ef-
thing, I would succeed.
way to the village of
! of V———, where I learn-
work was in demand. I en-
with all the energy of
a man leeling^hat bis future success
In life was at stake. While engaged in
my first job, 1 managed to save a por-
lion of my wages, and having made
some reputation as a business man,
found it very easy to gel employment
—Chance, or that wheel which i»
—— tbefates of men to favora-
1 points, determined that
my position. I did so i
hen better than
for, aside from
ofgood fortune and bad but one child (a
lovely daughter) my residence in bis
family was to me a period of real hap
piness. “ Time, with its ever-vaiying
tide,” moved on. I wooed, I won the
affections of the lovely Caroline. My
situation, my poverty, my birth and
life's early training, were all laid open
for the inspection of the family—au of
which weighed not a feather against me.
As I bad ever possessed an independ
ent spirit, 1 determined to defer our
union, until, by patient, industry and
frugality, I bight render my situation
comfortable, without being dependent
upon her father fora “ start in the world.”
To this point 1 was rapidly hastening,
when an eventrecurred which has in
fluenced my destiny, sinoe that time'.—
A young friend, who had deeply ingrat
iated himself in my esteem, and whose
memory I shall ever cherish—for in
spite of the misfortunes he was instru
mental in bringing on me, he was a no
ble fellow—was about going into a spe
culation involving some ten thousand
dollars, and the individual with whom he
was about trading refused to take bis or
bis father's paper without ray name al
so. The note was presented, and I
cheerfully signed it—bis and bis fulhei's
names were to be added. A year roll
ed on, and while busily engaged in build
ing myself a boose and making other ne
cessary arrangements for the consumma
tion of that event to which I had for three
long years looked forward with all the
ardor of a youthful lover, the astound
ing intelligence of the failure in busi
ness of my young friend's father reach
ed me. 1 went to look for the note, and
to my great surprise found that the fa
ther had never signed it, and that the
to us, and father has made arrangements
to settle them. You surely did not
think: we would abandon you on that
account. This property did not belong
to you, when 1 consented to become
jour's—then how could you thiuk me
so unworthy of your confidence as to
forsake you on accountol your ill luck ?”
“ This world is very uncertain—but,
perhaps, I have judged too harshly; in
deed, I know I have. Will you pardon
me and still look upon me as your best
friend ?”
“ I surely will be to you what I have
ever been. I have seen nothing—know
of nothing to make me otherwise.”
“ Then, Caroline, I will go to Geor
gia. I will concentrate all my energies
to build -* you up n comfortable home,
and when that is accomplished, I will
return for you to share with me my hap
piness. Until then, bo oonsiaut—be
cheerful.”
.•it tales OF A barrister. j to Mr. Trueman, my lawyer, any plan which sou
“ I LL give him law to his heart’s con* 1 think will lead to an early aid aLSbte adjustment
tent, the scoundrel!” said, Singleton, i ofourbasiR e«- You may rely apon my consent to ! ** “ , * IC
walking backward and forward, in a **» if lt n,eeu approbation.’* i sleep, say in 18^0, or from there along
state of great excitement. I “ Is it possible, Mr Trueman, that you : I” 1 , 8: ’ 0 * am * '7 erc no ,'y to w j'^ e
“Don't call harsh names, Mr. Single- 1 expect mlto sign such a crin^ngffias 1 !«• »» e w 5> u,d marvel e * ce ^*
n ” «»id anlim.or Trueman. Innfc;-*.! that?” said Mr SinXtnn blwm, wgly at-the altered state of our relations
Zin, and walki^Jbaclcward*a nd”*for- <° old world; but those of us who
ward with great irritation of manner.
“ Well, what is your objection to it ?”
replied Mr. Thieman, mildly, for he was
prepared for such an exhibition of feel-
the present and the future.
If some Rip Van Winkle had gone to
“ I will; for I will go with you and
assist in making your fortune, or share
in your adversities.”
“ Noble girl! I cannot think of re
moving you from your comfortable and
happy home to the wild woods of Geor
gia—such a sacrifice would be selfish
ness on my part.”
“ But, Mr. M , I cannot support
the thought of being so long separated
from you ; it will be years before you
can regain what you have lost. Why
insist on seeking your fortune afresh ?
Have I not enough for both of us ?—
What you could make in five years
would add nothing to our real comfort.
Then, why will you persist in this wild
undertaking ? Leave me not, I entreat
you.”
“ Listen, my dear Caroline; you
son had failed with bis father! Alas, know something of the world—what
for all iny fondly-cherished hopes ! I; will it say ? Why, that I married you
told the holder of the note that if he
would give it up, my farn), my houses,
and every thing I possessed, should he i
his. “ No,” said he, “ 1 will not rob you 1
of every thing you possess. There is.
fine horse, and here are one hundred
dollars—take them as an evidence of
the high esteem in which I hold your no
bleness of soul and sterling honesty—
make the best use of them you can,
and may fortune smile upon your future
exertions.” I took my horse and money
and went to my lonely house, which 1 had
been reuring lor my comfort in after life.
But it no longer possessed any charms
for me, and in bitterness of spirit I
soliloquised thus: “ 1 must part with
this—with all my earthly possession:
lanced
ton,” said solicitor Trueman, looking up
from the mass of papers before him,
and smiling in a quiet, benevolent way,
that was peculiar to him.
“Every man should be known by his
true name. Williams is a scoundrel,
and so he ought to be called !” respond
ed the client, with increasing warmth.
“ Did you ever do a reasonable thing
in your life wheuyou were angry ?” ask
ed Mr. Trueman, whose age and respec
tability gave him the license to speak thus
freely to his young friend, fofwhom he,
was endeavoring to arrange some busi- tied, doyou not, asked Mr. Trueman ?
ness difficulty with his former partner. ! looking him steadily in the face.
“I can’t say that I ever did, Mr. True-! “Ofi
man, but now I have good reason for
being angry ; and the language 1 use,
in reference to Williams, is but the ex-
piession of a sober, rational conviction,”
replied Singleton, a little more camly.
“ Did you pronounce him o scoundrel
** Objection ! IIow can you ask such
a question ! Am I to go on my knees
to him and beg him to do me justice?”
No! I'll sacrifice every shilling I have
in the world first, the scoundrel!” »
wish to have your business set-
You
nd you, too, my affianced bride,
will perhaps look upon me with differ
ent feelings under my reverse of for
tune. I cannot bear it. I will go to
Georgia—try ray fortune there, and if you
arc still constant, you shall hear from
me; and if not, 1 can hear it belter at a
distance than I could" here.” Thus re
flecting, I threw myself upon the bed,
but “ sleep visited not my eyes, nor
slumber my eyelids.” The morning
came, and gave promise of as fine a day
as ever shone upon this green earth.—
The sweet song of the wood-land chor-
ed to see uo human face before leaving
the country, if I could possibly avoid it,
I started on my lonely journey. 1 had
travelled scarce a mile, when, to my ut
ter confusion, 1 met Caroline and her
parents, who seemed very much aston
ished to see me starting a journey with
out informing thenr of my intention and
formally taking leave of them. Their
kind words went with peculiar force to
my wounded heart, and I felt that all
the world had not forsaken me—but
the thought that they had not learned
my misfortunes still pressed me down.
They insisted that I should accompany
them to church, as it was Sunday, and
I should not set out on a journey on that
day. After stating that I had made my
arrangements, which would admit of no
delay, I declined. “ Oh! exclaimed Ca
roline, “you must not go to-day; go
home with us, and take a fresh start in
the morning.” Who that has ever lov
ed could withstand such an appeal? I
determined to accede, and we all set
out for the church. I suffered with a
great depression . of spirits, and with
downcast looks, accompanied them on
the way, until aroused by Caroline ex
claiming, in her good ness of heart, ** Why,
Mr. M , what makes you so moody ?
Wbat ill fate are you looking to? I de
clare, you are so Pa'-”.., .
“Ob, Caroline; you little, dream of, ..
the care, anxiety and disappointments nized
that are now preying upon my spirits !
Perhaps, if you did, you would not look
so cheerful as you do.”
“Perhaps I would not. Still! think
if any thing very distressing had occur
red, you would first impart the intelli
gence to me. Am I not one of your
dearest friends, ever ready to sympa
thise with, and console you ? * Then
confide jour misfortunes to me, and we
will bear them together.”
'“Ob, Caroline, you perhaps cannot
hear my determination—if you are still
constant—
“Do you doubt my love, Mr. 2)1 ?”
“No; but my situation is far differ
ent from what you thiuk it U. This
horse and one hundred dollars in my
pocket are all my earthly possessions.
My houses and farm, and every thing I
possessed, are givtfn up for debt, and I
engaged, * ,a ^ started to Georgia this morning with
c of one the view of repairing my fortune and
* returning to enjoy the fruits of my labors
with you, if—”
“And did yon intend to say nothing of
your intentions to us before you left?—
Why, all your misfortunes were known
for your fortune, and not that 1 loved
you. This I could not bear.”
“ What does it matter what the world
saj's ? we know our feelings and wish
es, and need uot care for the notions of
the world.”
“ But, Caroline, I have now made up
my mind to pursue this course, and you
must bear with .me. You shall hear
from me often, and I will expect an ear
ly answer to every letter.” 1 took her
trembling hand in mine and imprinted
on it a fervent kiss, and as I brushed
the big tear from my eye, bade her fa
ther and mother a long farewell, and
set out on my solitary journey. I eras
ed the Savannah river, and stopped in
the county of E a day or two to rc—-*J° W are—for
fresh myself. During the time, I found
employment with a good prospect ahead,
and here 1 remained, doing a good bus
iness, for two years; at the end of which
time, I collected togetder my small
means, which amounted to eight-hun
dred dollars. I went to Augusta, bought
a small stock of goods, brought them to
this place, and commenced business in
the house now occupied by . 1 con
tinued in this business some four years,
nd my success exceeded my most san
guine expectations. 1 had again reach
ed the point which I had so anxiously
sought a second time; and writing to
Caroline to make the necessary prepar
ations, informing her that I would be
there in a month or two, I went to Au
gusta, bought the necessary clothing,
purchased furniture for iny house—siicot
some week or two in getting up the little
necessaries to commence house-keeping,
and then returned home—fitted up ray
house, hpught a servant or two, and then
wrote to Caroline that 1 would be there
on a certain day to bring her with roc
to Georgia. I had not Seen her since
>f course I do—honorably settled !”
\V ell, let me hear what you mean by
an honorable settlement.”
The young man hesitated a moment,
and said,
“ Why, I mean ”
_ ( “ You mean a settlement in which
before you received this reply to your your interest shall be equally consider-
lasf letter ?*' asked Mr. Trueman. ! ed with that of Mr. Williams.”
“ No, I did not; blit that letter eon- “Yes, certainly, and that M
firmed my previously formed impression I *' Ami that,” continued Mr. Trueman,
of his character.” j “Mr. Williams in the settlement shall
“ But I cannot find in that letter any consider and treat you as a gentleman ?”
evidence proving your late partner to! “ Certainly I do; but that is more than
be a dishonest man. He will not agree he has done.”
to your proposed mode of settlement be- I “ Well, never mind. Let what is past
cause he does not see it to be the most go for as much as it* is worth. The
proper way,” j principal point ofaction is in the present.”
“ He won’t agree to it, because it is ‘ “ But 1 will never send, that mean,
an honest and equitable inode of settle- ! cringing letter, though.”
ment: that is all! He wants to over-1 *' You mistake its wholo .tenor, I do
reach me, and is determined to do so if assure you, Mr Singleton. You have
he can!” responded Mr. Singleton, still allowed your angry feelings to blind you.
excited. **+ ! You certainly carefully considered be-
“ There you are decidedly wrong,” j fore you adopted it, the. proposed basis
said t he lawyer. “You have both allow- j of a settlement, did you not?”
ed yourselvs to become angry and are | “Of course I did.”
both unreasonable, in the present case, j “ So the letter which I have prepar-
T wo angry men never can settle any busi- ■ ed for you states. Now, as an. honest
ness properly. You have unnecessarily I and an honorable rnan,you are, I atn sure,
live to see 1S07 may find more room
for wonder in the state of relations then
existing. The influence exerted by this
continent upon the destinies of the East
ern hemisphere, but especially the con
tinent of Europe—confining our obser
vations merely to tho physical effect—is
already very great; and it seetns to be
in the natural course of things that il
must become much greater.* We n<fhr
supply Europe mainly with the gre.yest
and most important staple for mamifne-
luring industry. We partially supply
Europe with food. We are rapidly ad
vancing to a iKisition in which we shall
supply the whole world with lead. Of
iron and copper we have enough to sup
ply the world, the only thing wanting at
present being the means of procunng
and forwarding them cheaper. It is far
from improbable that in time we shall
supply a large portion of Europe with
fuel. Colton, food, lead, copper, iron,
coal—if we become great exporters of
all these what an immense tribute we
shall draw from the wealth and industry
of other nations.
But this is not all. Circumstances
are rapidly hriugingto full devclope-
ment, a process, ns between Eurojie and
America, the magnitude"and results of
which it is impossible now to estimate.
This is the process of emigration. There
can he nodoubt that the wide-spread de-
of the European populations to trans
fer their labors and their destinies to this
country, though stimulated to its present
activity by the partial scarcity of food,
has elements nfenduranee and will con
tinue long after that scarcity shall have
passed away. Apart from reasons which
may be called political, the emigration
itself will tend to its own perpetuation ;
those who come leave behind them rel
atives or friends or neighbors whose
increased the difficulties in the wav of willing to grant to hitn the same privi- y
aspects™ 16 ", ,, by writing Mr. Wit- ileg« which you asked for yourself, viz :; feelings will prompt theuilo follow ;«nd
hums an angry letter, winch he has re- j that of proposing a plan of settlement— if» t jjTng, of prosperity go back lmm
soon,led to in the like unhappy temper, lour proposition does not seem to please ; lhose u | ready here, the desire to share
«ow, il I an, to settle this business for mn; now it is but fair that he shnul.l ; t wil l :,<!,! m those feelines a sirength
m Mr wn ? "r Ietle " thUt pass , >e , , nV " e<1 f" te h r he ,"- 3he5 - i' 10 "<> slight obstacle will he able to
to Mr. Williams in future. ’ j settlement to be made—and in giving j overC()mp . °
“But how can you properly express •nclr'an invitation, a gentleman should Now itniusibc borne
my views and feeling's ?” v I use gentlemanly language.”
“ That l do not wish
not wish to do, if your! “ But he don’t deserve to be treated
news and Jeelings are to remain as they j like a gentleman. In fact he has no
mind that tho’
at present the emigrants bringlittle
wealth to the country of their adoption
save the wealth of strong hands anil wil
ling hearts to labor, the mass of immi
gration must eventually bring with it u
*—iss of capital, distributed no doubt
ijtbing like an adjust- claim to the title,” said the young
ment of the difficulties, under such cir- ! “ If he has none, as you say, you pro-
cumstances, I should consider hopeless,” . less to be a gentleman, and all gentlemen
re ?.‘w n r 'l Trueina * n- •' V , ! should prove by their actions and words ; quite cxie'usTveVy, In small, parcels, hut
’• etme . ans " er ‘«"Oe"er ami that they are gea/Wa.” amounting in dm aggregate to a very
after that, l promise that you'shall have “ I can t say that I am convinced by ! i ar „ e w,, have heard it estimated,
your own way. . : what you say ; but, as yon seem to he j bv judicious men, that the drain of gold
No, I shaU consent to no such thing, heiy on having it your own way, why, i !u ,d silver from Great Britain, through
Il is the reply io that letter which is to here let me copy the thing and sign it," , this channel,will continue for many vears
modify the negotiation for a settle- j said the young man, suddenly changing j ^approximate that which has been caus-
ment in such a way as to bring success i his manner. 1 *
or failure; and I have no idea of allow-! “There, now,” he added, passing
ing you, in the present state ofyourniind. Atcross the table the brief letter he had
to write such a one as will most assu-; copied, “ I suppose he’ll think mo a
redly defeat an amicable adjustment.” • l‘» w spirited fellow after he gets that;
Singleton paused for sometime before! hut lie’s mistaken. Alter it’s all over
to tell him that it
w mistaken.
making a reply. He had been forming 11’U take good t
in hisinind a most cutting and bitter re- { did'nt contain my sentiments.”
joinder to the letter just alluded to, and! ** Come to-morrow afternoon, i
he was desirous that Mr. Williams should 1 think we'll have things in a prett'
we parted, and you may guess what; Mr. Trueman,” he said. “ There
and 1
Williams should | think we'll have things in a pretty fair
have the benefit of knowing that be! way,*'..hesaid,looking up with his usual
thought him a “ tricky and deliberate! pleasant smile, as he finished the direc-
scoundrel,” with other opinions ofa sim- tiou of the letter,
liar character. He found it, therefore, • • • • • •
impossible to .make tip his mint! to let, u Good morning Mr. Singleton,” he
o!f. U I'" n . pa _ 3 i' n " 0 'I Mr '- ..f . 1Ueman wr “ e lsaid us that gentleman entered his office
the succeeding day.
Good morning, sir,” responded the
this most important epistle.
" Indeed, I must write this letter, \'
were my feelings as the day approach
ed on which 1 had determined to com
mence my journey. Oh, with what rap
ture would we meet again ! Wbat a
history of the intervening time would we
give and receive. Those who have
passed through such a scene only know
—they alone can describe. The long
looked-for day of departure at length ar
rived. -It was a beautiful day—just such
an one as that on* which I took leave of
her who was dearer to me than life it
self. Several of my friends had drop
ped in to see me off, but my mind was so
preoccupied by other thoughts that I
found but little incliuatioo to be disturb
ed. While I was waiting for the stage
to bear the news from below, I was en
gaged in giving orders concerning my
business. The mail at length arrived—
the letters were opened and distributed,
the well known hand-writing
of the father of Caroline. I was pleas
ed, yet when I noticed the ominous
black seal, I trembled. Hastily opening
it, the first sentence that met my eye
was, “ Caroline is dead !” I read no
more. For hours I remained insensible
to what was transpiring around me, and
when consciousness returned, the first
words uttered were, “ Caroline is dead!
I shall never see her more!” I thought
theu I would rather die than traverse
the weary world alone. My hopes bad
been twice blasted, and I was now left
a widower in feeling. I have wander
ed through this world as a pilgrim—
uot seeking death—but looking forward
with hope to a happy rC-union in heaven
with my long-lost Caroline.
A Sjld Caul—The Philadelphia Inquirer says:
We haW wen a letter from .Virginia, which
Done that a year or two ego, a beautiful and accom-
pished female, the daughter ofa distinguished citi
zen of that State, became the wife of a gentleman
of fortune reputed to be a widower, and who had a
abort time before returned from China. It is
ascertained that hm first wifo is alhre, the story of
her death huTiag been cunningly devised and delib-
entcly circulated.
! young man. Well, have you heard
some things that I want to say to mm, | from tho milk and-water letter ol yours 1
which I know you won’t write, luu : can . t catl it n , illc .”
don t seem to consider the position j uYes, here is the answer. Take a
!”r nnr vvhnt Pj. 00 ” me “J l ^ ,at * et " j seat, and I will read it to you,” said the
tf»r. nor tv nt is n 1 old gentleman.
ter, nor what is obligatory upon
a man of honor. I never allow any man
to reflect upon me directly or indirectly,
without a proper response.”
“ There is in the Bible,” said Mr.
Trueman “a passage that is peculiarly
applicable in the present case. It is
this— 4 A soft answer turneth away
wrath, but grievous words stir up an
ger.' 1 have found this precept, in a life
that has numbered more than dou-
14 Well, let's bear it.”
“ Dear George: I have your kind and gentle
manly note of yesterday, in reply to my harsh, unrea
sonable, and ungentlemanly one of the day before.
We have both been playing the fool; bat you are
ahead of me in becoming sane. I have examined,
since I got your note, more carefully the tenor of
your propsoition for a settlement, and it meets my
views precisely. Sly foolish anger kept me from
seeing it before. Let onr mutual friend. Mr. True
man, arrange the matter according to the plan men
tioned, and I shall most heartily acquiesce.
Yours, etc., Thomas Williams.’
He never wrote that letter in the
You know his writing I presume,”
“ Wn ' e i »•'> Mr- Trueman, lmndmg him the let- wk‘c',7'he hud {S£n‘
bleyour years, to be one that may be
safely and honorably adopted inall cases.
v~.. at nr-ii- l r •• - no never wruic mai icuer iu roe
Yon blame Mr. Williams for w-nt.ng you | world exdaimed Sin 3 leton, Marling
an angry letter, and are indignant al ol , bis feet,
certain expressions contained therein.— 1
Now, is it any more right for you to write
and amongst them was one for me, the an angxy letter with cutting epithets than I “ 4 *
superscription of which I at once recog- it is Sr him t” j If, Thomas Williams’ own hand,
«• T rlni-si ruema n ‘ as I live!” ejaculated Singleton, on
“ I do assure j-on my young friend, facing at theletter—-My 5ld friend,
f' d Ihekwyer iiiterrupting.bitn “ that T ,, nmas williaIDSi th e best aatored fel-
LT„^r R m 1,3 CaS ° , rJ ° ar ,e l"’ 'he world!” he continued, his
and not for my own; and, its your le-1 fceli undergoing a sutIdcn and
gn adviser, you must submit to my entire rcvolution. “ What a fool l have
judgement, or 1 cannot consent to goon. I | >e<?n ••*
1 “ ■T mise not to nse any 1 ,,arsh ! “And how foolish 1 bare been, too !’
I ,'!' ^ n °‘ c , on , senl , to let me i said Williams, advancing from an ad-
e erl urged tbe client. I joining room, at the .same time extending
bis hand- towards Singleton.
God bless you, ray dear friend !’
“You and I, iu the present state 'of
your mind, could not possibly come at
the same conclusion in reference to what
is harsh and what is mild,” said Mr.
Trueman ; “therefore I cannot consent
that you shall write one word of the pro-
Well I suppose then, I shall have to
submit. When will it be ready ?’*
“ Come this afternoon, and 1 will give
you the draft, which you will copy and
S ‘ S In.be afternoon, Mr. Singleton came
and received the letter.prepared by Mr.
Trueman, lt ran thns, after the date
and format address—
the result of a careful consideration of
oar matatl interests. Be kind enough .<o suggest
exclaimed Siugleton, grasping his hand.
“ Why, what lias been the matter with us
both?”
“ My young friends,” said old Mr.
Trueman, one of the kindest hearted
men'in the 'world, rising and advancing
towards them, “ I have known you long,
end have always esteemed you both.—
This pleasant meeting and reconciliation,
vou perceive, is of my arrangements—
Now let me gFvo vou a precept that will
I ‘e.: l_ t. i
make friepds and keep friends. It has
been ray motto through life, and 1 don't
know that t have an enemy in the world.
“I regret that my proposition did not meet your It ii
approbation. Tbe mode of settlement which I sng-
“ A sojl answer turneth away wrath, but
grievous words stir *rp anger, *
was writing, he knew it, ifthe sheet sub
stituted was of different size from the
former, and ho appeared embarrassed
in that case. Butifihe fresh sheet of
paper, which was substituted for that
written on, was exactly the same size
ith the former, he. appeared not to be
ware ol the chnn&e. And be would'
continue to read oil*his composition from
the blank sheet of paper as fluently as
when the manuscript lay before him;
nay, more, he would continue his cor
rections and introduce bis amended pas
sage, writing it upon exactly the place
on the blank,sheet which it would have
occupied on the written page.—Blacks
cTs Magazine.
INDIANA LAW VS COMMON LAW.
The following slpry is from the Knick
erbocker.
A Legal member of Congress was ■
once foiled in an important law suit be
fore an Indiana jury by tbe adroitness
of a pittifogger who was opposed to him.
The “ honorable gentleman” was but
little acquainted in that region of his
circuit, whereas the pittifogger was alto
gether at home. The former had occa-
>n, in the course of his argument, to
nke frequent reference to the 44 common
xv of England,” which made his side of
the ease quite clear; but his antagonist
soon a dimolished that stronghold. “ Gen*
tlemcn of thejury,” said he in reply,
what have you to do with the common law
of England! What have you to do
with any English law? If we are to be
guided by English law at all, we want
their best law, not their common law.—
We waut as good law as Queen Victo
ria herself makes use of; for .gentlemen
we are ulI sovereigns here. But wo don't
want.no E iglish law. United States*
law is good enough ; yes Indi-a-na law
is good enough for. an Indiana jury;
and so I know you will convince the
orthy gentleman who has come here
to insult your patriotism and good sense
by aticmntin; to influence yourdecision
through the common law of England !”-^—
The jury g.ave the pittifogger bis case
without consultation !
MARRIAQE CUSTOMS IN SWEDEN.
Dr. Baird, in a lute lecture delivered
in Springfield upon foreign governments
nnd the social customs of different na
tions, alluded particularly to Sweden, a
land made recently quite familiar to us
through the graphic writings of Freder-
ika Bremer. The manners and customs
of the Swedes he describes as being re
markably interesting, and some of them
very peculiar. He instances most es
pecially the ' ceremony of marriage, of
ecntlv by the importation of our
bread stuffs into Great Britain. This is
probably too large an estimate; but a
million of pounds sterling annually i;
an extravagant supposition for the im
port of direct capital—gold and silver—
by this means; and another million may
’ expected from the continent.
Then let it be borne in mind that all
the capital which comes here will find
the enterprise and opportunity it needs
to make it active, and that with it comes
large accession as well as to labor os
consumption of labor’s products, and
it is not difficult to perceive that the re
sult, at the end of twenty or twenty-five
years, can hardly fail to be something
worth looking at;—Com. Advertiser.
SOMNAMBULISM.
Altogether the most interesting case
of somnambulism ou record is that of a
young ecclesiastic, the narrative of
which from the immediate communica
tion of an archbishop of Bordeaux, is
given uuder the head of 44 Somnambu
lism,”jn the French encyclopedia. This
young ecclesiastic, when the archbishop
was at the same seminary, used to ride
every night, and write out either sermons
or pieces of music. To study his con
dition the archbishop betook himself
several nights to the chamber of the
young man, where he made the follow
ing observations: The young man
used to rise, to take paper, and to write.
Before he wrote music he would take a
stick and rule the lines with it. He
wrote the notes, together with the words
corresponding with them with perfect
the words too wide, he altered them.
The notes that were to be black he fill
ed in afUr he had completed the whole.
After completing a sermon, he read it
aloud from beginning to end. If any
passage displeased him he erased it, and
which formality he gives the annexed
singular account :
When a young girl is to be married*
she dresses herself in all her bridal gar
ments, and places herselF in the middle
of the parlor, standing. A circle of bright
lights are placed about her, and the
groomsmen also cotti£ into the room
bearing each a brilliantly lighted chan
delier. Thedoorsand windows are then
thrown open, and every one who choos
es can come and see and criticise tbe
bride as they please. Impudent follows
will walk about her, and besides critici
sing hcrappearance, which they do with
in her hearing, they will use some such
expressions as— 44 Well, so and so is to
be married at last—she has been long
enough about it. I pity the man who
marries her,” &c. Females, too, will.
appear about her in masks, and make
still more cutting and insulting remarks. 4
After standing up for an hour and a half,
the ordeal is ended, the throng is dis- *
persed, and the wedding takes place in
the. presence of the immediate friends
of the parties. After a dinner party,
the guests approach the hostess, who
stands in the middle of the rood), and
each returns thanks. This beautiful
custom prevails even among the simple
peasant families. After the meal in
over, the children approach their moth-
and taking her by the hand say,
44 Thank you ma-ma.” The guest, if
one tberd be, merely says, “ thanks.”
ROWER OF IMAGINATION.
The influence of the imagination on
the nervous system has on some occa
sions produced effects bordering on in
sanity. The following is a case in point i
“ A few venrs fiinrv* Rliinti R-im.
A few years since, Elijah Barns,
of Pennsylvania, killed a rattlesnake in
his field, without any injury to himself,
and immediately put on his son’s waist
coat, both being of one color. He re
turned to his house, and on attempting
to button his waistcoat, he found to bis
astonishment that it was too $raaH. His
imagination was now wrought to a high
pitch, and he instantly conceived the
idea that he had been bitten impercepti
bly bvihe snake, and was ibus swollea
iius&iji’c uisuiftinfu nun iiccruscu Ilf UIIU x* * - ,, * j ,
wrote lliti amended parage correctly!' trom
over tho oilier; on one occasion he had ,ll . a, ! d ,ook l !' s *»* . The faauI y*
to substitute the word •«aJoralU” for K8' ea ' al ? n "! an<! confuMon, summon-
W but he dill not omit to alter the c, .' lhree ? a<l . ,he . r ^T
preccding-.ee”-into “erf,” by adding were pre»cnbed and admin.Mered
..At • i . •*. . .1 The nnt»>nt. hnwavAl-. omw tzflru »n>l
the letter * e t n with exact precision to the
word first written. To ascertain wheth
er lie used his eyes, the archbishop in
terposed a sheet of pasteboard between
the writing and his face. He took not
tbe least notice, but went oh writing as
before. The limitation of bis percep
tions to what be was thinking about was
very curious. A bit of aoiseed cake _ -General Taylor’* Fakm.—A C
that he bad sought for he eat approving- the New York Evening Poat says:
Ijr; but when, on another occasion, a
piece of the same cake was put in his
mouth, he spat itout without observation.
The follow mg'instance of the depend
ence of his perceptions upon or rather
their subordination to, his preconceived
ideas is truly wonderful:. Jt is to be
observed that he always knew whfin his
pea had ink in it. Likewise, if they ”
adroitly changed his papers when he feet.”
The patient, however, grew worse and
worse every minute, until at length his
son came homo with bis father's- waist
coat dangling abotjt; him. The ftiyste-
ry was instantly unfolded and the pa
tient being relieved from his imaginary
apprehension, dismissed bis physicians
and was restored to health.”
tic New York Evening Poat a_,_. „ 4
“Twenty-five or thirty mile* above Natchez, a
groUeman was good enough top *
principal estate of Gen. Taylor.
the river three or four miles,
of excellent land, and to *
Tbe general’s servants *
cently earned fame of their .i
• cluster of their hats, a con
of them male and female,' re
m wits, and,
: v b