Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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. - . .