Newspaper Page Text
series—VOL. % no. is.
ATHENS, GA., THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 14, 1847. U “ 0F mm*»
VOLUME IV. NUMBER 27.
SOUTHERN WHIG.
ONCOFTHE UEFIlTnlCIieinil
FAFER9 IH THE SOUTHERN STATES!
O DOLLARS A YEAR!
iSI-T IN ADVANCE.
& T. M. LAHPKU,
i:1fXAitOfs sod Proprietor*.
Node* toDcbtoreand Creditor*..
Sate of Perwnal rropeff. by Executor*. Admii
tntors, or Guardian* •
Sate* of L»»ds or Negroes, fcf do..
Other Adecniee meats will be chanted 81 00 for every
twelve line* of .mall typo, or I**, 8r.t insertion, «nd SO
oenta for each weekly eonuaoenec. If pebliahed every
other week.621 cent, for aacb continuance. If publish-
•4 once n month it will he charged 75 cent* each time.
For a single tneertion, tl 60 per *q**fe.
'Advertiaement*. when the number of .n*ertH>na ta not
mwkodepon them,will be pobliabed uU forbid sodcbarg •
od accordingly.
odetZTYB
It be pabliab-
___ apreviouatoday ofaaU
§9* The sale of Peraooal Property, in like mannei
« be pobliabed yosty »*t* provmu* to day of aale.
tar Notice to debtor, and creditor* of enoetste must
1VILLIA3I A. LEWIS,
attorney-at-law.
Camming, r#W»k cwwwty, 6a.
nnu, practice in the countie* compoeing the
WT Cberok*# CircniL . ..
-AH ptafnaianal and other bnatne** entruatad - -
will meet wttb prompt end faithful
December J
. C.;& W. J. PEEl’LES,
atitnitfs ,« Urn,
HIM. In AlbsM. «RE
Waxcoml.o. lk.si.elic. »l L.w in the eoinlM. «f
Onrk. Wshon, J.ckeen, Gwinnett, H.11, ll.b,r.n.m
.M PiRSkkn, of lb. WMlern Circoiu Chernkec.Luinp-
U» stU Fomlb, of the Cherokc. Circoit; .nil Cobb,
°f U.Cm.l-Cu.-U. „ r w .
^C.Pimu. Athene, j W. A B. P.Clayton
-W. J. PaarLta. GatnaviUi
ALBON CHASE,
BOOKSELLER and *TATI01ER,
j fm |4, Broad Street, Athens, Ga.
u. j. maYnTkd;
fO.iT Ike Southern Burner Office.)
j„S8 ATHENS, OA.
MALLORY, FERRY & CO.,
wnoLisaut aim sstail scaurs m
KATS, CAPS, BOOTH,SnOCS, TBCSK*. *
lull ■
Broad Siren, Athene, (la.
JAMES BANCROFT & CO..
Whwteonle and Stclnil
DEALERS in dry GOODS, GROCERIES, Ac.
April 33 Broad Street, Athens, Ga.
A M. JACKSON,
atuntn «t Uto,
WATRinsntMs Gl
h: white,
ncrchant Tailor,
{os TO A. ALKXAHDEB, COLLCOR ATENOX,
n,ftiw: It ATHENS. GA.
A. J. BRADY,
WbaleaaU and Retail Dealer 1*
GROCERIES A DRY GOODS,
Collfgs Arnat, next deer to lit Pert 0/e«.
tf.
ATHENS, Ga.
Lswta j. LaxrxiR. n. cue*
LAHPKIY & COBB,
DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, &c., &c.
FREDERIC W. LUCAS.'
nd Retail
jrlce. Hardware, Ac. dec.
Ke. 2, Granite Rote, Athens.
T, BISHOP,
WHOLESALE AND 'RETAIL GROCER.
' No. 1, Bsoad Street, Athens, Ga.
Js». 14,1847. tf
PLEASANT STOVALL,
Renew* the tender of his service* in tbo Storage
d 6*lo c
COTTON AND OTHER PRODUCE,
At hie Fire-Proof WnretiMee.
"Aug. 7,-18-17. ly Augusta, Ga.
; THE NEWTON .HOUSE,
Athene, GcerRla.
Tnt aubecriber announces to tb# public,
that bo baaenrecedlhUelctentaadapacioua
****and that it is sow open (or tbo accommo
dation of Boarder* and Traveller*.
The Home is endr*ly ns w, and unrivalled in conven.
ienceof arrangement. The room* am beautiful, and
wiB be fitted up with new end elegant furniture. It is
tbeperpoee of tlw proprietor to spare uo paint in ren
dering- the accomrocdationa of this House every way.
satisfactory te tiroes w be aeey call epon him.
Dee 31, ISIS .tf . . B-11- MARTIN.
Dr. J. B. CARLTON,
Iltnira located in this place, tenders hi*
Prefawianel service* to the citizen* of Ath
ens and it* vicinity.
in the corner of hi* lot, immediately North of
tbo Bunk. .Allien*, July EV47.
A 2f Isht-Adremlwre In Cabo.
BY RED BCSTLUE.
• With the rough bleat heaves the billow.
In lb* light air wave* the willow.
Every thing of moving kind
Varies with the veering wind;
What have I ty do will thee.
Dull, unjoyou* constancy 7'—Joanna BaiUie.
• Cp! thy charmed armor don,
Tbou’lt need it fere the night be gone-*—Drake.
* Dulce, will vou go to the masqerader In " me
ball to night?* laid I to ray lesser-half,
on a bricht evening during the gayest
part of the * carnival season.*
* No, my am<£* answeied she ; * I am
ill this evening jj don’t go out to-night,
but stay by myjide, and let your cheer
ing presence safe a doctor** fee.*
* Madame, you know that I had made
op my tnind to go out in my new cabel-
lero’s dress: you'are not very 111; and I
shall be dull company for you, if disap
pointment holds a berth in my tnind.—
You had belter consent to my going ; I
will return early.*
* Do as you please. Sir,* she respond
ed, poutingly; * but if you neglect me
thus in the first year of our marriage,
how shall I be treated when Time’s
shadow shall darken my brow and dim
the light of my eyes; when my spirits
shall droop and beauty fade before the
wintry frosts ofage?*
To shorten my yarn, reader, I rigged
myself and went to the ball, my heart
beating a * conscience-tattoo* agaiust its
casing all the way; for well I marked
the soft reproach which my wife’s full
dark eye spoke wtfen I left her side.
Having arrived 1 at the ball room, I
mingled with the gay maskers, listened
to the music, and in the sparkling wine
glass sought for excitement; yet that
perpetual drum-stick of conscience kept
thumping against the parchment-head
of reflection, and I'could not feel hap
py. Dressed as attractively as possible,
1 sought and danced with the fairest
maidens in the throng; yet still, Thought,
that nettle in life’s'earden, kept Joy in
a distant offing, add Pleasuse far in ray
wake. v ‘
I was about to give up the chase for
enjoyment, and had dutifully made up
my mind to return home and moor
myself alongside of my little wife, when
a lair band was laid gently upon my coura l
arm, and a tremulous, musical voice
asked me, in a whisper, to retire a little
from the crowd. The hand was deli
cate, and seemed smaller even than my
wife’s; and the taper fingers were en
circled by rings of; rare value, such as
could only be worn by the rich and the
titled. The lady^'as closely‘veiled in
black; yet I caught one glimpse of eye-
light through the thick crape. In the
blackness of a night-storm I have seen
the clouds for a moment open and per
mit a star glance with supernatural
brightness down on the agitated ocean;
and even so fell that glance on me.—
The voice was one of those which,when
it falls upon the ear, vibrates along ev
ery nerve until it reaches the heart
strings, where it echoes and re-echoes,
till Memory * catches the tune,* and too
truly for it ever to pass from her grasp.
I followed the stranger’s invitation ;
and as 1 gazod on the fairy form which
Bitted before me, I forgot my little in
valid at home. The * mask 1 was but
little if any larger than my wife; yet
there was a fulness and elegance of fig
ure, a grace and voluptuousness of mo
tion in the former, which 1 had never
observed in the latter. My wife had
beautifully soft, glossy curls of jet, but
they could never compare with the black
tresses of twining silk, which hung near
ly to the feet of my strange charmer.—
When wc had got .clear of the throng,
she again spoke: !
‘‘Are you a gentleman?—one on
whom a lady roay 'ln all honor depend ?*
I answered, that to the best of my
knowledge and belief I was, and thought
I might be depehded upon.
• Would you risk your own life, or
destroy that of another, for # a lady, if
her honor required, and her love would
reward the act?’
•For one so fatr,*so angelic as your*
self I 'would risk more than life!’
A shudder seemed to pass through
her form; 'her little feet stamped the
tesselated floor impatiently,; her fingers
were 'clasped together Until they were
bloodless, as she continued :
Have you ever loved?*
betrayal, by the aid of a little more sol
itude, would have conquered me, and
sent me home: but, at tnis critical mo
ment, the • mask* returned, -bearing in
her hands a heavy, black veil. She
beckoned me to follow her into a neigh
boring street, where, in a moment, we
stood beside a close-curtained volante,
into which she sprang, I following her.
She immediately enveloped my head in
the veil which she had brought, cauiiott-
ing me on my life not to attempt to re
move it, unless at her request.
The carriage started ofi with speed ;
indeed, the driver seemed to be urging
his horses to a rapid gallop. Our road
was long; for even at this speed we j grow cold and unmin'
believed to be noble,*mai
way calculated to mal
true bliss of existence 1
even over the bounds
oration* watches for.
flower beaten down
for the sunshine; _ r _
when the clouds of sorrow cast their
shadows over him; joys when his hopes
brighten; ministers to his every com
fort, aud seems a being arvlosely bound
to him as light is to the diamond. Sup
pose that ho to whom yotr have entrust-
ed her, the innermost heart-jewel of
yourself, the bright comer pf your do
mestic fire-side; imagine that he should
taUi
il of her peace;
must have ridden for two hours, some of j that his love for her should fade; that
the time over rough, rocky roads, and ' her smile should fall upon, him cold
then along smoother ways, when at last! torch-light on a funeral pall; that her
the panting animals were brought to a j voice should no longer be music to his
stand. {ear; that he should seek for other
Immediately thereafter I heard a • smiles, and give to other ears the words
creaking noise, as if a port-cullis were
suddenly raised,or some old gate swung
back on its unoijed hinges.
* Speak not a word, whatever you
may near; attempt not to raise the veil,
or your life and mine may be the for
feit!* whispered my fair guide; and
while she spoke, I felt that she trem
bled from bead to foot. Her hand was
cold as ice, and her impetuous voice sti
fled and husky. Before we advanced
from the carriage, she also made me
vow by all the saints in heaven, never
to reveal what I might do or see, in that
night’s adveuture.
She then led me cautiously on, appar-
ntly through a large garden, for the
cool night-breeze bore the perfume of
orange, citron, pink, lemon and spice
blossoms to iny cheek. We soon ar
rived at another door, which creaked
which were alone her dKA? when you
saw her drooping, fading, dying beneath
the shadow of his neglect, what would
you do?*
‘ Slay him! by the Hand which
made me ! I would slay him as a dog
that had bitten or a serpent kiial had
From the Saturday Courier.
The Last of the Signers. _ 1 .
BY GEORGE LIPPARD.
Come lo the window, old man !
Come! and look your last uponathe
beautiful earth! The day is dying—the
year is dying—you are dying; so light,
and leaf,, and life, mingle tu one com
mon death, as they shall mingle in one
resurrection.
• Clod in a dark morning gown, that re-
vealed the outlin#of his tall form, now
beut with age—once so beautiful in its
erect manhood—rise’s a man from his
chair, whiSh iarcovered with pillows, and
totters to*the window, spreading forth
his thin white hands'.
Did you ever see an old man's face,
that combines all the sweetness of child
hood, with the vigor of matured intel
lect? snow white hair, falling in wav
ing flakes, around a high and opett brow,,
eyes that gleam with mild, clour light,
a mouth moulded in an expression of be-
nigity almost divine?
vie with each other who shall be most
ardent in their attachment.—Christian
Sentinel,
stung me!'
Even ns I spoke, I thought of my own
deserted wife, and Conscience • took a
pull at the halliards* of my heart, and
wrung it to the very core. I felt as if
I could have given a world, had it been
mine to give, if I could be placed along
side the couch of my lonely bride; and
I vowed in my soul never to grieve her
again, should I return unharmed from
the dreadful scenes of that night.
*,Lady,’ said I, *3f your firs', tale be,
as I feel it is, true; if you have slain
him who wrought your ruin, and have
rustily as it opened before us; and then I chosen tne to aid you in your dreadful
our way seemed up a winding stone I task, I pray you to hasten the deed.—
stair-case, through a passsage so still. Let there be no delay.*
so solemnly silent, that it even echoed
the light foot-fall of my companion,
while my own heavy tread rang, like
groans in a cavern, through the still,
damp air.
Until now, the lady had not spoken
since we had stepped from the^olante;
but, as we arrived at the top of tne stairs,
and passed into a warmer atmosphere,
she whispered that the hour to test my
courage and love had arrived. We
stepped across a soft carpet, and she
seated me on a yielding cushion. I
could see nothing through the thick veil
which she had thrown over my face, yet
a kind of bluishness in the darkness be
fore me convinced me that I was ii
lighted room. No sound could 1 hear
save the suppressed breathing of py
trembling companion, and the beating
of my own heart* After remaining for
a moment on the ottoman, which shook
from her nervousness, she again ad
dressed me:
• You are armed with pistol and dag-
It is the 14th Nov., *1832; the hour is
sunset and the man, Charles Carroll, of
Carrollton, thelast of the signers.
Ninety-five years of age, a weak and
trembling old man, lie lias summoned
all his strength, and gone along the car
peted chamber to the wiudow, bis dark
gown coutrasted with the purple cur
tains.
He is the last!
Of the noble Fifty-Six, who in the
Revolution, stood forth undismayed by
the axe or gibbet—their mission the free
dom of an age, the salvation of a coun
try—he alone remains.
One by one, the pillars have crumbled
from the roof of the temple—and
the last—a trembling column—glows
in the sunlight as it is about to fall.
But for the pillar that crumbles, there
is no hope that it shall ever tower aloft
in its pride again,, while for this old tnan,
Scottish Schoolmasters.
Scotland has long enjoyed the advan
tages of national education. Every
child, boy or. girl, can demand instruc
tion.as a right.—In the parish schools
instruction is not confined to reading,'
writing, and arithmetic.—Greek, Latin
and French arc taught. The Scottish
schoolmaster undergoes a severe exam
ination before he is inducted into office.
—Many of them have been brought up
iu the universities, and possess a sound
and comprehensive erudition. - How
then, it may be asked, are these teach
ers paid ? What is their amount of com
pensation ? We regret to state the re
muneration is most beggarly, and that
Litis class of true gentlemen, whose la
bors are of the greatest utility to the na
tion, are not so well paid as a skilled me
chanic or a nobleman’s butler. There
a charge on the land payable by the
heritors which yields as a maximum sal
ary £30 a year to the Scottish dominie.
He is allowed a house, but the statute
ouly enacts that there must be two rooms
iu it; the heritors are not strictly bound
to furnish any accommodation, and the
rooms may be of the narrowest diiiien-
oiis, bandy oaths and low jests with
blackguards, and walk arm in arm with
a ruffian. He is the artlul dodger who,
as he strides the fence, shakes hands on
both sides, and courts a bid. He
knows all the tactics ami appliances of
party, and how to excite the passions
and prejudices of the rabble, and
“ squats like n toad” whispering in the
ear of power. The adroit shuffler and
cutter of the noliticul pack; the pander,
to cliques and regencies, he cares not
what becomes of his country, so that he
gets a share of the loaves and fishes.
Cataline would have made him his most
confidential conspirator, while he would
have been the first to lorsake or betray ^
him; better villains ascend the scaffold,
while he mounts the political ladder,
and even worms Iiintself into the Prtisi-
dent’s Cabinet. '
A CARO .
—* 7 Dn. Quintan! A King,
TTaVING uoitRd i* the practice of tbeir Profession;
Jl havotnta*! offi^eaietc Xowkm lloea*.
where they would be Dlea«cd. to receive the call* of
those requiring Medical advice attention.
■ TVOo*etAS*,M.D.'^"“ —
ic Altai Jloasaand Pi .
fXm Tart.
Athens, Jane i7.
CABINET-MAKING.
■ respectfully informs the citlrcns
and vicinity, Lhat he has opened
. ^ ' HhcMlVlf<
the 'building f below 3
• I may have felt a school-boy’s pas
sion,’ I replied, with assumed mdiffer-
Then follow me!* said she; ‘you I about to sink into the night of the grave
need not follow far.’
there is a glorious hope. His memory
She led me on a few steps, into what i willlive. His soul will live, notonly in the
I am,’ said I, inwardly praying that
I might have no occasion to use them.
4 You will please give me those wea
pons,* saiif she.
‘Ha!* thought I; ‘I am 'betrayed;
and she asks my weapons of defence,
lhat I may be made an easier prey !—
Let me ask,* said I, * your reasons lor
this strange request?*
• A true lover never asks for reasons
from one in whom he confides 1 answer
ed the * mask ;* adding: * The business
I have in hand lor you has need of
courage, calmness and prudence, but
your weapons could avail you nothing.
They will not be required.’ She shud
dered as she spoke; adding quickly:
Such as they have already done too
much!*
She paused a moment, and seemed
to be schooling herself to some dreadful
task. Again she addressed me :
I have a tale to tell you, Sir; n
a tale, but some questions to ask.*
Had you an only sister, one who w;
young, fair, innocent, and ignorant of
the world’s wickedness, and thus un
prepared to cope with vile art and sin
fulness ; and should she meet with one
who was in appearance all full of noble
ness, purity, generosity, and true man
liness; and, in her own full-hearted-
I supposed to be another room: here
she bade me to pause, and calm myself.
I must acknowledge that I fell greatly
agitated ; but mustering all my self-pos
session and presence of mind, I prepar
ed to cast aside the veil, at her bidding
and determined not to shrink from tiie
horrible duty which lay before me*
She lifted the veil from my head. A
blaze ofligbl forced me to close m v eyes;
and then I dared not to open them—
Imagination painted a sceuvTVefore me
which I feared lo gaze upon. At last
shame unclosea ray eye-lids, and I gaz
ed around. • . . Surprise almost
stunned me. 7V
It could not be! yet so it teas! I
stood within my own bed-room! The
stranger raised her mask. My wife’:
large black eyes looked sorrowfully out
upon me; she cast the long tresses of
glossy hair from her head ; ancl then
appeared her own soft curling ringlets
f daying about her neck. She had fal-
en upon this plan to punish me for
seeking pleasure at a time when she, by
Signs of a-Prosperous Farmer.
1. When u farmer is seen marrying
young, it shows that Providence helps
those who help themselves, and that in
future lie will have “helps’ of more
ki uds than one. '/ .
2. When lights are seen burning tn
his house before day, it shows that the
djiy will never break’on his 4 breaking*
in the whiter of adversity.
_ r ,. . , ..... 3 When you see his bum larger than
sions. In addition to the salary, which , |lg ^ U3e it *hows that ho will have
is a mortgage on the land, the school- j la|we pro f lts n ,id small affliction*,
master is entitled to 3s. a quarter from j £ When you. see him driving his
every pupil; but if the pupil is taught j work ili3leat j ofWs work driving him,
presence of its God, but on the tongues
and in the hearts of millions. The band
which he counts one can never be for
gotten.
The last!
As the venerable old man stands be
fore us, the declining day imparts a
warm flush to his face, and surrounds
his brow with a halo of light. His lips
move without a sound ; he is recalling
thc*sceues of the Declaration—he is mur
muring the names of his brothers iu the
good work.
All gone but him !
Upon the woods—dyed with the rain
bow of the closing year—upon the stream
darkened by masses of shadow—upon
the homes peeping out from among the
leaves, falls mellov/ing the last light of
the declining day.
He will never see the sun again !
He feels that the silver cord is slow
ly, gently loosening: he knows that the
golden bowl is crumbling at the foun
tain's brink. But death comes on him
1 as a sleep, as a pleasant dream, a kiss
foreigu languages, the fees arc raised
seven shillings a quarter. On an aver-,
age the parents of about one-third of the
children in each school never pay any
thing, and it is a hopeless attempt to ob
tain the trifle demanded from those in
extreme poverty. The schoolmaster
who in one shape or another receives
£70 a year, from the charge of £30 on
the heritors and the pupilage fees uni
ted, is at the top of the tree in money
matters.—To earn this, he must train
up about 60 boys and girls, if they all
pay, and more if there are defaulters.
Our English renders may have some
difficulty in crediting such a statement,
but it is exactly true; and we know that
these talented and laborious gentlemen
would be fully satisfied if they were se
cured to the amount of £100 per an
num.—Jcrrold!s Ncwsjtaper,
of the
Janies
From the Button Trauscript.
The Brothers.
Among the obituary notice
day, we find one of Georg
Sprague, a “ true man,” as he has been
justly and emphatically called, who
died the 22d August, in the fifty-fourth
year of his age. lie will not have gone
without “ the meed of one"melodious
He was the brother of Charles
it shows that he will never be driven
from giod resolutions, and that he will
certainly work his way to prosperity.
6. When you see iu fiis,' house more
lamps tor burning lard or grease,, than
candlesticks for more expensive purpo
ses, it shows that economy is ligHtfqff
his way to happiness and plenty, with
that light which should 4 enlighten every
farmer into the world.'
6. When you always see in his wood- ‘
house a sufficiency for three days, or
more, it shows that he will be a more
than 4 ninety days wonder* in farming
operations,' and that lib is not sleeping
' his house after a drunken frolic.
7. When ho has a small house, sepa-'
rated front his own building, purposely
for ashes, and an iron or tin’ vessel to
transport them, it shows that he never'
built his dwelling to be a funeral pile
for his family and perhaps for himself.
8. When his hog is boarded“.inside ‘
and out, it shdws that he . is 4 going the
whole hog* in keeping plenty inside his
house and poverty out.
reason of sickness and suffering, could 1 from beloved lips !
not enjoy it with me. She had indeed He feels that the*land of his birth has
taught me a lesson of conjugal fidelity, become a Mighty People, and thanks
My own volante had driven me at God that he was permitted to behold its
full speed over half the city! I had | blossoms of hope ripen into full life,
been led through a back-gate, and had In the recess near the window, you
traversed a part of my house which I
bad never before entered; and all
through the contrivance of my witch
of a wife! Borrowed jewels had dis
guised her hands; she had spoken in
au altered voice beuealh her mask; and
I, like most men, ever ready to be
pleased with a new object, had actual
ly fallen in love with my own wife! _
What a 'fw?Jor a married man to be in !
October.
In spite of the gorgeous livery assum
ed by Nature during the month, there
is always a sad tone in the music of its
breezes. Its melodics are in a minor
key. Winter already casts his shadow
before, and Summer flees his approach.
Love our firesides as we may, we cling
instinctively to the careless season when
warmth was not to seek. In an ideal
life, Summer would reign perpetually.
When werauseof brighter words; when
. , . ,. , we try to imagine what will be the con-
ness, shouldsholove h.nl os only ivo- dili 7 of thc g lest who ever thinks of
manm nature's sunpbcitv ««l°ve; and fi , No ^ of tlre jjenl ever draws
shonld he taking tout advantage of her chcering £c».Ui ng into.
4 Then you are oot married ?*
' 4 Thave been,* 1 was my reply.
affection for him, work her ruin, and
having succeeded, then scornfully leave
her without reparation, an outcast from
even his bosom; a dark thing upon the
world; unwilling to five, unprepared to
die; and'should she, in the hour wbcu
j he spurned her, a dishonored thing.
Even ! fromnis feet; even when she was pi
t from win
ter. 44 Thick-ribbed ice” and regions
where “the air burns frore, and cold
performs the effect of fire” have been
called iu to heighten our notion of a
place of torment. So we never long for
behold an altar of prayer; above it,
glowing in the fading light, the image of
Jesus seems smiling, eveu in agony,
around that death chamber.
The old man turns aside from the
window. Tottering on, lie kneels beside
the altar, his long dark robe drooping
over, the floor. He reaches forth his
white hands—he raises his eyes to the
face of the crucified.
There, in the sanctity of an old
last prayer, we will leave him. There,
where amid the deepening shadow glows
the image of the Saviour—there, where
the light falls over the mild face, the
Sprague, cashier of the Globe Bank,
ami a poet in the fullest and noblest
sense of that much abused word. The
following lines, Breathing as they do
all the poetry of the household affections,
appeared in the Transcript of Februa
ry, 1837. In giving them to his read
ers, our predecessor, Lynde M. Walter,
remarked : 44 The delicacy with which
a'sadly pleasing train of thought vibrates
on the heart-string of affectionate feel
ing, and finds utterance in song, tells
us, without questioning, whose hand
guided the pen and gave it utterance.
•J~ Wheo his sled is hoosed io sum
mer and ids formiog implements cov- ‘
ered boili winter and summer," it prjin-
ly shqws that, he will havtfagoodft
over Itis head in the siirnrhcr-xlf T
life and the winter of old age.
ID. When His cattle are
shielded and fed iu winter, it evtd^
that he is acting according lo scripture,
which says that 44 a merciful main is
merciful to his beasts.”
11. When he is seen subscribing .for
newspapers, it shows that lie is speak--
ing like a book respecting die latesHm-
provements in agriculture, .and that "he'
will never get his walking papers to the
land of poverty. ' V.
Popping the Question. 7 ' ‘ '
, „ » „ - , .... Some writer wtioiakifs the so&brhiuet
A wqrd Of prefatory uxplunmm.., which I j S w, lhu s gives bis expert-,
wc arc accidentally enabled tosupply— eufcc ou ' hi , su |,j egt . j ere mv bos been
may not be unacceptable to the reader. | ., ahoul „ a „j u ,. ono 0 f C m," decided-
It is sufficient to say that the lines were . ; •
written after “ the two” bad been en-j 7 Itw iH pop itself. It’s nonsense this
gaged in removing the ashes of their | ^ ^ng folks a helping liana— *
dcad broihcrs to a new place ot sepul-, ke |ny V 9rd for it ^ al j they wish is to *
m,nor wavy”hair and tranquil eyes of the aged
patriarch.
The smile of the Saviour was upon
the Declaration on that perilous day, the
4tb of July, 1770: and now that its pro
mise has brightened into fruition, lie
seems to—He does smile on it again even
as His sculptured image meets the gaze
of Charles Carroll, of Carrollton,
Tub Last oe the Signers.
chre.*
Wc are but two—the others sleep
Through death’s untroubled night;
We are but two—O let us keep
The link, that binds us, bright.
Heart leap* to heart—tlie sacred blood
That warms u* is the same:
That good old man—his honest blood
Alike we fondly claim.
Wei
e locked—
Our boyish sports were all the same
Each little joy and woe;—
Let manhood keep alive the 8ame.
Lit up so long ago.
be left alone—and if ihere be any con- •
founded youngsters about; let ilium bo *
put in bctl or drowned, it don’t matter '
flattering tale, 'she' listens ; listening,
slie loves—loving, she is lost. ! crowded miseries strike a poniard Jo his
Again she showed marks of irapa- j heart *
lienee and 'excitement, if some great «She would nobly do her duty!' cried
trouble rested ‘on her tnind. This I T, excited almost to maduess by ibe
pressed herto reveal to me, offering'eve-! painful picture,.
ry aid in rhy power to defend her.oreven j > Would you aid her in removing all.
' Torig.'J besought herto J the probf of crime?* continued the;
j..-, . , , • - in ray affection, new- i qhask;* ‘would you assist lhat poor girl
A to do all kinds ot work in the above line hedged though il was, and^ to test^ils j t o place beneath the dank earth all that
the boor when fa- ^^y Caucas^.- c^en when" we
honored thinir. , . J „ 1
are melting under Cancer. .
Yet the pleasures of this season are
neither few nor slight. 4 Home-bred
happiness' begins with cool weather.—
The friends whom pursuit of health and
fresh aii. has separated for two or three
months, will now meet, and exchange
greetings with new zest. All is anima
tion and excitement, between the histo
ry of summer wanderings and the pre
paration for v winter. It seems like **
new lease of life io the ha
solicits s share ofpublic patronage.
Athens, March 25,1847.
strength, even as she-might direct. She W as earthly of her 1 defiler T
faltered, hesitated for a ffioraent,' and : »X would! If thou art she, lead
then, requesting me to await her return, ‘
hastily left the ball-room.
4 Now,'thought I, 4 here is a scrape
for a sober married tnan to get into!—
Perhaps slie may be some beautiful si-
I am rdady; ay,’ ready 'to do more!
Wobld that ay hand* instead- 'of thine
had sent the recreant’s soul to its his
sing horat!! I love thee now better than
before; True, thou hast been disbon-
iappy, refreshed
and. inspirited by the heart-cheering
breezes of our lakes ’and mountains;—
Auction an*.CommhsioR Business.
: L* Wi SHACKLEFORD,
-* AFsrjyiwi tanji —jTi tei|oriAiiiiii ut i ii itli \ fr
-M-T- w *? a ?T5P* teS’jrovTto* ren » knowing my weakness, where [ bred, but thou arl avenged !*
jJLJU hfa’friends sndihc public generally, that bo ■ the fair sex is concerned, has laid a trap • * 4 Be not too hasty. Sir.’ said she; ‘let
tenow prepared toc*rry ouiha. to.inveigle apd rob,^^erhaps,to inurdePi;me sketch one otter picture, before I
A'- nAmisiMlnn BurIuftfM- me! Shall ; I await her return ?—or | call bn youi Tor -action* Again I will p 0 V mariner, and spare the hearts that
‘ ue«ii tie Branches, , shall I fly the* danger? But I am arm- suppose you to have an only sister. I „-ntnh furUU mum!—Mrs.'Kirkland.
will keep constantly on band a well-selected C J j why should I fear?* I began also twill suppose her,'with your full knowl-
ptock ot MERCHANDIZE,^ every Tawty. ^ i | Q thiuk of my poof invalid wife; arid [edge arid conseut, to have-given heraf-
C \tou h ” l jL'uirrJ < iu‘I7 benl '* 1 I these thoushu coupled with my fear ot 'lections ami licr hand to one whom you
May they* include the poor and need}*
in.theif plans forlheap^roaching severe
season.
_ One’of the saddening influences of the
autumnal change is the prevalence .of
stormy, winds, which remind us of dis
asters^ at. sea.. How many hearts will
tremble as the loud blasts of this mouth
bring back the sufferings of fall, on our
wreck-strewn coast! God help the
Fashion.
Fashion rules the world, and a most
tyrannical mistress she is, compelling 1
the people to submit to the most incon
venient things imaginable for her sake.
She pinches our feet with shoes, or al
most chokes us with a tight neckerchief,
or nearly takes away our breath by light
lacing. She makes people sit up late at
night when they ought to be in bed, anti
keeps them there in the morning when
they ought to be up and doing. She
makes it vulgar to wail upou one’s self,
and genteel to live idle anti useless. She
compels people to visit when they would
rather stay at home, eat whet* they are
not.hungry, and driuk when they are not
thirsty. She inyades our pleasure, and
intercepts our business. She persuades
people to dress gayly. either on their
own property,or that of others, or wheth
er agreeable to the word of God or the
dictates of pride. She ruins Jiealth and
produces sickness; destroys life and oc
casions premaiurc death. She makes
fools of parents, invalids ofchildrcn, and
servants of;all. She is a tormenter of
conscience, a despiser ofmorhlity, and
an enemy pf. religion ; nor can one 1>e
her companion and enjoy either. .She
is a despot-of.the highest grade, full of
iVe are bat two—be that the band
To hold us till we die;
Shoulder to shoulder let ue stand.
Till side by side we lie.
The Demagogue.
The mere politician is the. pest of our
civil and political system. His motto
is 44 policy is the best honesty, and all is
fair in politics.” He searches for the
fig which. If lovers ha vn’t no tongues,
havu’i they eyes, egad! and where is
the simpleton that can’t tell whether a
girl hives him, without a word on her
part 1 No one adores mddesly more
than I do, but the most delicate angel of
them all woti’l disguise her little heart
when you’re alone with her. A blush,
a sigh, a studied avoidance of you in
, company* and a low, thrilling, trembling
| of the voice at times, when uo.onc else'
is by, tell more than the smiles of a thou
sand coquettes. Ah! you needn’t,’
Amy* shako your head« you’ll no doubt
know soon enooglt—but .if you fall in
love, as you will, ray wbrd on it, the
very echo of one footstep will make your
heart flutter like a frightened bird.
Easily Understood.—When Sir Richard
Sieetcj the celebrated contributor to the
r s 44 Spectator,” was fitting up-bis great
faults of bis opponents, and is blind to j naan in York buildings, which. he intend-
the perception of virtue or disinterested-J ed for public orations, he happened at a
ness. He believes that every tnan has ’ time to Iks pretty much behindhand with
his price, and sells Himself to the high- j his workmen; and cotningonc day among
est bidder. , JHe. believes honesty " and j them, to see how they went forward, he
disinterestedness 44 all humbug” yet . no , told one of them to mount the rostrum,
man can talk more vociferously about i and make a sort of speech, that lie might
his own, putribusm and sincerity than ■i**'---** i, ^.,1,1 k« hoard Th«
Thc receipts of the N. Y. cuStora-hpuse
arc from $30,000 to $100,000 per day.
himself. With' most obsequious bow
and oily coriipliments for every cue who
has patronage or suffrage, he goes about
with cat-like step, anti eavea-dropping
observe bow it. could be heard. Tbo
fellow mounted/and scratching hid pate,
told him lie knew not what lo say, for in
truth heWaS no orator. .
O !” said the knight, ” no matter for
car ever open to the first whisperings of] that—speak a nything that comes uppcr- )
rumor: kis stealthy eye, like that of the; most.”
lurking snake, peering, for iu unsuspdc-1 44 Why here. Sir Richard,” says lho]
tlri" victim. To compass his object, he fellow, “ we have worked for you these"
° " 1 ke a' worm in the dirt, or - *1* weeks, kml cannot get poc penny of
a crockotlile through mud j money ; pray, sir, when do you design*
.-a :* *„ much like the stiakb t«» pay us?” ' ' * - •* 1
in the right line.— ', *“Yery well,
will crawl like
wallow like
and mire, and is
that he can’t move
He goes with his party as the pilot fish j ard, “ pray
does with the shark, that he may have j enough i I ci
it? leavings. Character with him is ; Very distinct,
nothin"; to reach bis object, tie; would rybur subject.
very well,” said Rich-
come down, I have heard
, .cannot but own you speak
distinctly, though I don’t admire
arisas*5$7»?s.| -• > >•—*£?«?
and servanu,.of every colour'anil every Ules P oil the sepulchre. He cad quote, than vour own. . GoJ, not man is an.
clime, have, become bet devotees, and scripture and sing psalms with the .pi- swcruble lor this. - . .