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Georgia S Statesman. TERMS, —$3 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE,] BY S. MEACHAM. THE OEOP.SIA STATESMAN Is published ever)' Tuesday in Millcdgeville, Opposite the State-House Square. ?CP Terms.... Three Dollars in advance, or Four Dollars if not paid in six months. — No subscription received for less than one vear, unless the money is paid in advance, and no paper discontinued till all arrearages on subscription and advertisements are paid. N. B.—Notice of the sales of land and ne groes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guar ilians, must be published sixty (lays previous to the day of sale. The sale of personal property in like man ner must be published forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell land, must he published nine months. Notice that application has been made for Letters of Administration, must also be pub lished forty days. *** All letters directed to the Editor, on business relating to the Office, must be post paid. . WOMAN. “ Helena was one of those who believed that such innumerable affec tions were engrafted in the human heart—not to wither, unknown and unexerted, but to bestow the purest joys of life. She was bound on ail sides to her fellow crcatur s—by pity, by esteem, by gratitude, by love; every social incident call ed forth her friendly emotions ; the wants of a poor neighbor, the atten tions of a rich one, the sorrows ol the unfortunate, the joys of the pros perous, the visit of an acquaintance, the letter of a friend—each and all were so many excitements of the an imating and gratifying feeling of her benevolent heart. In sooth to say, there were no periods of stagnation in her breast ; yet the current of sen sibility ran not impetuously—now turbulent and irresistible, distorting Ivy its violence every reflected image, now rushing from the rapid torrent to a still, waveless pool—no, it equal' ly moved, as the gentle 'but ever flowing stream, mildly but incessant ly impulsed.” But, w ith the tenderness and be nevolence of this character, is united a firmness that enables it to repel every endeavor to tempt it from the path of rectitude. The discomfit ure of an attempt to seduce Helena from lier conjugal fidelity, is thus narrated; it is a fine picture of a i American wife. _ The coxcomb sought by every contrivar.ee art could devise, by ev ery blandishment flattery could sug gest, to win that easy prey—a wo man’s heart. 11c sighed or smil and, as she looked grave or gny—mould ed his movements to every graceful attitude, modulated his voice to ev ery varied lecling, talked of domes tic happiness with rapture, deprecat ed the forms of society with asperity, and sometimes ventured to hint the delights of lovo returned. How he managed it we know not, but he evi dently rather lost than gained grouud by his assiduities, and had the mise ry of finding most of his best speech es misconstrued. There was a calm sobriety in the manner, a steady good sense in the language, an intelligent expression in the eye of Mrs. Eger ton, that baffled all" his effrontery; and really, to do him justice, Adam Wronghead, Esq. had no small share of that quality. In short, at the end of a few weeks, the gentleman was compelled to heat a retreat, to res cue himself from the disgrace of ca pitulation; instead of being the con queror, he found himself the con quered ; instead of having to boast his power, he had to feel her mercy ; instead of gaining her heart, he found he had lost his own. It was ever afterwards amusing to see the dis comfited beau in the presence of the woman whose light love he had so confidently anticipated to gain—his eye sinking beneath her calm glance, his cheek reddened at her slightest comment. The reflections which immediately follow are full of important matter for female meditation. “ Mrs. Egerton is no favorite of ours, as may 'caddy be supposed ; her tame virtues being more calcu lated to embellish the spiritless scenes of domestic life, than to gild the pages of a novel. She did no thing worthy publicity—nothing that could be talked of; her favorite mot to w as, “ Privacy is the sphere of wo man.”—Her conduct, therefore, to wards Adam Wronghead, Esq. we Can neither applaud nor justify ; for what harm can possibly arise from a wife giving gracious encourage ment to the innocent lamiliarities of her bachelor acquaintance—lolling on the arm of one, and striking ano ther with her fan—looking grave when no harm is intended, to show she was thinking of what might have been intended ; and laughing at pal pable rudeness, to prove her forgiv ing goodnature, w ith a laudable di*- daiu of the maxim ascribed to Cajsar —“ Tt is net enough for a woman to be virtuous ; she must also appear so ” —We can recollect only two rather disagreeable consequences likely to ensue from such petty trifl ing. First, the chance of giving pain to a husband —and what woman of spirit cares for that 1 Nay, if the sil ly man chooses to be jealous, this is the best way to cure him ; for since jealousy cannot exist without love, the deuce is in it ifby destroying his love he will not also be cured of his jealousy.—Secondly, the general o pinion that the most abandoned pro fligate will not presume to violate a female’s delicacy by a look, a w ord an act, of undue freedom, if that fe male does not, Ly the before-men tioned levity, give license and en couragement to his folly. Hence, such petty trifling is deemed too of ten the precursor of deeper error; and the woman who begins with ex cusing levity, too often finishes by participating guilt. —Perhaps it is as well for her to avoid both these chances; th risk—of her husband’s peace and attachment —of her own virtue and happiness!"’ The dangerous illness of her be loved husband exhibits Mrs. Eger ten as a “ ministering angel.” Her fortitude, agonized as she is by the recent death of a darling child, and the faithful tenderness with which, op pressed with fatigue and anxiety, she perseveres in performing til the kind offices to which affection prompts, are delightfully portrayed : “ Mr. Knowlesdon had been ad mitted to the invalid once for a few moments, at the commencement of his disorder, and had retired so over pow red by the shock of beholding his emaciated figure and of listening to his incoherent plainings, that it was long ere he could muster cour age to repeat the visit; yet was Mr. Knowlesdon a man of no common fortitude—of athletic frame, vigor ous nerves, strong sense After a protracted interval of refreshment from cheering scenes, he again en tered the sickman’s apartment. Mrs. Egerton was in her accustomed place at the side of the invalid, unceasing ly employed in performing every of fice of attentive kindness—adjusting the pillows, offering the cordial, chaf ing the cold hand, and sustaining the brow, whispering hopes, and smiling consolation.—Mrs. Egerton, a feeble woman, rendered yet more feeble by watching and anxiety—her slender form made yet more slender by fa tigue and abstinence—with no inter ruptions but those of deepened afflic tion, no change of scene to revive, no retrospections ter gladden—her self the most interest- and in the ap prehended catastrophe. “ Mr. Knowlesdon watched, in mute admiration, the incessant, the noiseless labors of the unconscious Helena —the recollection and promp titude of her numerous arrangements for her husband’s comfort: his ap plauding reverie was closed by the soft tones of her voice, as kneeling at the feet of Montague, she looked up to ask whether she had rightly adjusted his footstool. Her dress was negligent; her beauty was fad ed ; no rose blushed on her cheek ; no cherry glowed on her lips, no sparkle irradiated her eye—sickness and gloom surrounded her figure, and sorrow and langor mark and eve ry movement ; yet never, in the sea son of brightest loveliness, in every mbellishment of graceful attire— never, in the midst of festivity and elegance—never had .shte appeared so attractive, so respectable: Mr Knowlesdon felt, in one moment the full worth of woman.” A character strongly opposed to that of Mrs. Egerton, is lady Wrong head, belonging to the class of fe males, unhappily too numerous, who imagine that they are displaying all th< refinements of sensibility, when they are In fact only betraying the workings of egotism. The profound selfishness of beings of this descrip tion is striklingly and dramatically exhibited: “ The day continued raw and gloomy. Lady Wronghead, shiver ing and uneasy, pronounced herself ‘ miserably cold;’ fresh fagots were piled on the hearth, and another shawl thrown round her form.—‘pray Jack, shut the door, it is always left - pen—James has no sense of feel ing.’ “‘lie should have, Madam,’ re plied Jack, ‘ for he has been cooling himself• these two hours, washing bottles in an outhouse : he should have a fellow-feeling for you.’ “ Lady Wronghead was not talk ing about She rose to cross the hall; her own maid was there, holding the house-door par tially open ; and now asked if Inr ladyship would please to relieve that poor negro. ‘He is cold, wet, hun gry—a stranger, rny lady.’ Bless me, Margaret! where is your feeling ? Don’t you see how ihe damp air blows in upon me 7 Hae tibi erunt artes, pacisque imponere raorem, parcere subjectis et debellare superbos.—Virgil. MILLEDGEYILLE, TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 1326. Shut the door, pray —Never had woman such unfeeling servants!’ “ Margaret shewed her feelings, and shut the door upon the unreliev ed, cold, wet, hungry stranger, who mournfully retired ‘to seek a shelter in a humbler shed ;’ not how ever be fore Jack had thrown up the dining room window, and flung a crown in to his hat.” We have soon afterwards a spe cimen of the good humor of this a miable dame : “ The dinnej appeared. Lady Wronghead found some fault in eve ry dish on the table. “ The soup was too thick.” * You thought it too thin yester day my love.’ “ 1 know that, sir Gabriel ; but though I don’t like it as thick as pudding, that is no reason I should have it as thin as water —there is reason in all things.” “ Sir Gabriel knew that well ; and and he knew also that every general rule had some exceptions—Lady Wronghead, for instance, had she any reason ? But he went on eating his soup. “ And that mutton —it is roasted to a chip!” “ The Barron looked upon the ex uding gravy, as he poured half a do zen spoonfuls on the slice destined for his better half-—but he risked no reasoning.” “Jack carelessly exclaimed, ‘ you complained sadly of the under-done haunch last week, Mother.” “ Well, sir, and is that any reason why this leg should be burnt to a cind r ?” “ Reason again ! The w-ord both ered sir Gabriel, as ‘feeling’ had in the morning annoyed his son; and he drank wine with Miss Patty, the Letter to gulp it down.” The following passage is pcculir ly whimsical and ingenious. “Lady Wronghead’s senses were so exquisite, that they were always tormenting her. Whether this is the service for which senses are bestow ed, is a question we leave to the dis cussion of our sagacious readers— our present business is with Lady Wronghead. “ I have such an unfortunate nose 1 smeil every thing in a moment, and there is always some disagreeable scent to offend me ; take away those flowers, they are too sweet for me. To be sure, mine is such an unlucky taste : I can discover the slightest unpleasant flavuor. How you are eating those peaches, Sir Gabriel! they have a something, I know not what, that makes them very unpal atable ; at least to my taste. —You all enjoyed the music last night. Well, that was so odd to me, for my ear w r as offended a hundred times. Jack, your blackbird must be remov ed ; 1 hear it sometimes, and its notes do so jar upon my ear.—Oh, my dear, I am sure that is your un cle in the park. My sight is so re markably clear : it is quite a misfor tune to be so quick-sighted. Indeed Mr. Twist, chilly as 1 am, 1 cannot buy a stuff-gown, my touch is so wretchedly susceptible : I cannot describe how, but I should have such a feel every time my hand fell on my dress.” One of the ball-room artifices of a girl in her teeirs is very fairly ex posed : “ Susan Knowlesdon, bewildered with the gaiety of the sc ne, and with the number of strangers moving around her, was continually recur ring to her ui clc for information. “ My dear sir, who is .that gentle man ?” ‘ Mr. Knowlesdon mistook the di rection of her eye—‘ Mr. Barton, Susan.’ “ And who is that next to him ?” 1 Lord Rochfort.’ “ The mistake was complete— Susan had first looked at the peer and last at the commoner. It hap pened (for odd things will sometimes happen) that both the gentlemen, probably attracted by the pointed gaze of Susan’s bright eye, resolved to ask h> r had for the ensuing danc es. The brisk noble was however at her side much before the tardy Mr. Barton. “ Under the impression of her re cent mistake, this however was a very unpalpatable arrangement to the fair belle ; she contrived there lore, at the moment, dexterously to avert her head from the supplicant, and laughing immoderately at what was best known to herself, to give the supposed titled laggard time to approach. “ However adroitly practice ena bles young ladies to perform this manceuver, yet they may be assured that, ninety-nine times out of a hun dred the l ick is seen through, and (the term is rather harsh) despised. Lord Rochfort, in a moment trans formed from a gallant admirer, to an exasperated contemner, turned from the artful fair, and sought a more courteous damsel. Mr Barton led his triumphant partner to the dance. “ The Solicitor had marked the whole transaction, and with his usual incivility, exulted in what he was pleased to call the defeat of his niece. At the end of the first dance as Susan was seated, regailing her self with the pretty nothings of the fancied Earl, Mr. .Knowlesdon con trived to whisper in her ear, ‘ you have done wisely, Susan, in select ing a partner nearest your own rank.’ “ Am I not dancing with Lord Rochfort l” exclaimed the displayed Susan. ‘ No, child, no,’ responded the ma licious lawyer ; ‘ you are sitting still with Mr. Barton ’ “Susan was electrified ; her smiles vanished, and a pouting lip and a scorn darting eye met the gaze of her hitherto enraptured partner. No longer courting his attention—no longer drawing her arm through his, in all the innocent frankness of guilt less beauty, the grocer’s grandson (Mr. Barton) began to wonder what had happened. The second dance was heavily got through, and Susan retired frurn the festive throng with the loss ofiy second admirer.” From *he N. Y. Observer. AMERICAN CANALS. (Continued.) 35 Delaware and Raritan Canal in Jersey, the main trunk of which commences in the valley of live Rari tan, and follows it nearly to the junc tion of the Millstone and RaritariV thence near the junction of the Stony brook with the Millstone ;—thenc south of Princeton, by Trenton, to Lemberton, where it enters the Dela ware. 36. Morris Canal, the chief object of which is to open a communication between the city of N. York and the great beds of coal on the Lehigh river, the iron works of Morris coun ty, and the manufactories of Pater son. 37. Lehigh River Navigation in Penn. This river, which opens a passage from the Delaware to the Lehigh Coal mines, has been made Navigable by dams and falling locks for boats drawing less than 18 inches water, from Easton to the mouth of Mauch-cbunk creek. The Schuylkill navigation company commenced their opera tions in 1816, and in 1824 they had made an improved navigation from Mount Carbon, at the coal mines in Schuylkill county, to Philadelphia, a distance of 110 miles, 64 of which are canal; overcoming a fall of 588 feet, by means of 28 dams and 120 locks, at an expense of $ 1,500,000 only §50.000 were subsbribed by the state. 39. Union Canal, which commen ces on the Schuylkill, two miles be low Reading, and proceeds up the valley of the Tulpehoen 40 miles, to the summit level near Lebanon where it proceeds 5 miles, without a lock, and then descends the valley of the Swatara, 33 miles, to the Susque hanna, near Middletown, a few miles below Ilarrisburgh. The whole ca nal will prohebly be finished by the end of the year 1827. 40. Pennsylvania Canal, which, it is expected, will ultimately conned the Union canal with Pittsburgh, and thus open a navigable communica tion from the western waters to the tide waters of the Atlantic, through the heart of Penn. It has been determined to commence an eastern section, extending from the western termination of the Union canal to the Juniata, 23 miles, and the western section oxtending from Pittsburgh up the valley of the Al legheny to the mouth of the Kiski minitas, 30 miles. The lockage on the eastern section will be 28 feet, and on the western 44. The esti mated cost of the two sections is on ly §300,000. 41. Lancaster Canal. The Con estoga Navigation company have engaged Mr. Caleb Hand! to open a steam boat navigation from Lancas ter to the Susquehanna river, 18 miles, for §55,240, the work to be completed by the 4th of July, 1827. 42. Maryland Canal The House of Delegates have passed a bill ap propriating § 500,000 for a canal from Balitmoretothe Potomac, §SOO, 000 for a canal from Baltimore to the Susquehanna, and §500.000 towards the proposed Chesapeake and Ohio canal. 43. Susquehanna river navigation. —To remedy the obstructions to tin. navigation of this river, found prin cipally in the last 50 miles of its course, between Columbia and tide water, the people of Maryland, some years since, construct and the Susque hanna canal, which extends from tide water 8 miles up the valley of the river tothe Maryland and Pennsylva nia line, and it is now proposed to continue the improvements to Colum bia. 44. Delaware and Chesapeak Ca nal commences on the Delaware, 6 miles beiow New Castie, and runs thence tothe navigable w aters of the Chesapeake, in Buck creek, 4 or 5 miles south of French-town. Mr. Randel, engineer, at whose sugges tion the directors adopted this route, states that by expending §2,000,000, it may be improved so as to admit the navigation of frigates drawing 20 feet of water. 45. Potomac river Canal, in Virgin ia, by which five obstructions are overcome—the Little Falls, round which is a canal 24 miles long; the Great Falls, round it is a canal 1 mile long—Seneca Falls, overcome by a canal without locks., } of a mile in length—the Shenandoah Falls, round which is a canal one mile long— Iloure’s Falls, round which a canal has been cut 50 yards long. 46 James river Canals. Thisriver is navigable for vessels of 125 tons to Rocket’s, one mile below Rich mond, where are the principal ob structions to tin navigation. At that city there are 12 locks, overcoming an ascent of 80 feet, and connec ting the water with the basin on Shokoe hill. From this basin, a ca nal, 25 feet wide, proceeds along the bank of the river 24 miles, and then enters the stream, the bed of which is used for three miles further, and then an ascent of 34 feet is overcome by t hrec locks. 47 James river and Ohio road Ca mil. In 1820thcVa. Board of Pub lic Works, recommended to the Gen eral Assembly the following as the practicable method of opening a communication between the waters 1 I Janie*. river and those of the Ohio. I. An independent canal from th basin of Richmond, up the valley of James ami river, to the mouth of Dunlaps, creek, 249 mile J. A good road Iron, the mouth 01 Dunlap’s creek, across Allegheny mountains, to the Keiminva river, just below the Great Falls, 9y n) ,|e-. 3. From these Falls to Mount Peas ant on the Ohio, at the mouth of tx Kenhawa. Part of the independent canal at the eastern extremity is finished. 48. Dismal swamp Canal, which extends 22£ miles from Deep creek 7 miles above Norfolk, to Joice’s creek, which discharges itself inti the Pasquotank. —Vessels drawing 8 teet water may ascend both creeks to each extremity of the canal. The canal originated in the concurrent acts of the Virginia and N Carolina Legislatures. 49. Roanoke river, in N. Carolina, is navigable for vessels of 45 tons to Halifax, 75 miles by land. At the great Falls, the river descends 100 feet in a distance of 12 miles; but a canal is now' completed around these tails to Rock landing, opening the navigation for th batreaux to the junction of the Dan and Staunton; both of which are also rendered navi gable—the former to Danville, where a canal round the falls is in progress 50. Cape Fear river is navigable to Wilmington, 85 miles, by vessels drawing 10 or 12 feet water; and by boats to Fayetteville, 90 miles. 51. Yadkin river was surveyed, in 1818, from Wilke’s C. H. in the mountains, to Cheraw hill, 6 miles below the South Carolina boundary Lne, a distance of 240 miles. The expense of making it navigable for boats of ten tons through this dis tance was estimated at §250,234, exclusive of the Narrows, where a turnpike road for 7 milss was recom mended. Beiow the Cheraw hill, the river is navigable for large boats to the ocean, which, by the course of the stream, is 270 miles, but di rectly by land only 103 miles. 52. Santee Canal, in South Caroli na, which was completed in 1802, commences on the Santee at the poinkwhere Sumpter, Williamsburgh, and Charleston districts unite, and proceeds southeastwardly to Cooper river. Short canals have been com pleted round the fall- ol the— Wateree above Conulen, and the falls at the mouth of Broad and Salu da rivers. 53. Ashley and Edisto canal, 12 miles long, was proposed several years since; but we know not that, the work has yet been commenced. 54 Canals along the Coast. The Waccamaw river, which joins tin Pedee at Georgetown, runs parallel t the sea coast a distance ot Bor 10 miles, and is navigable for vessels ot 150 tous to the distance ol 80 miles. It is intended to unite this river by a canal with Little river, which dis charges its waters in N. Carolina within the sea islands. From George town harbour, a canal, 5 miles long, lias been cut across the tongue of land which separat s it from the San tee. 55. Savannah, Ogeechee, and Al tarnaha canals. A survey ol a canal route to connect the Savaonch with the Ogeechee has been completed. Messrs. Clinton and Jcnkes ere now [OH sl4 IF NOT PAID IN SIX MONTHS. NO. 57....Y0L. I. exploring the country between the Ogeechee and Altamaha, with the view of locating a canal, between those riyers. 56. Florida Canals. Tw-o routes Have been proposed for a sloop canal across the isthmus of the Florida peninsula. The northern route com mences on the Atlantic, at the*mouth of the St. Mary’s, which forms the boundary between Georgia and Flori da, and proceeds up that river nearly to its source, thence, by an indepen dent canal, 18 miles long, to the Su waney, and then down that stream to the Gulf of Mexico. The southern route commences on the Atlantic at the mouth of the St. John’s, and proceeds up it to the mouth of the Black creek, and after ascending that creek a short distance, passes by an independent canal, 12 miles long, across the couutry to the Santa Fe, and down this stream and the Su vvaney to the Gulf o],Mexico. 57. Tennessee Mobile canal, in Alabama. It is stated, that the portage between th navigable wa ters of the Okoa, a branch of the lliwassee, which unites w ith the Ten nessee, and the Conasugau, a naviga ble branch of the Coosa, was measur ed by a correct mathematician in 1810, and the distance ascertained to be nine miles 214 yards, across it a beautiful level country presenting no obstructions to the formation of a canal. 58 Carondoiet canal, completed in 1817, extends from a basin in the rear of New-Orleang 14 miles by the bayou St. John, which communicates with Lake Ponchartrain, thus opening a sloop navigation. (To be concluded in our next.) SEMINOLE INDIANS. Department of War, } 10th May, 1826. $ To the Delegation of Florida Indians. Friends and Brothers : I have considered your request to have your boundary line extended and made it known to your Great Fa ther the President. I am directed ,f> answer, that lie gives his consent tor yw to occupy the big swamp, i.util h«Nq.,y i ia ve a call for it, when he will you to move within the limits o(Nq e surV ey He sent you this messagbEy Gov. Duval. \our Great Patnv Joes not wish to oppress his red chil6v- n . jj e has heard of your sufferings, rfb) sent y oll some help. But he wishes nie iidorm you, now that you have had time to plant and gather your cropv that you must rely for the future on yourselves, and by your industry pro vide for your own support. Brothers : Your Great father has heard that you have run-away slaves in your country, find that many of your people hide them from their owners. The treaty provides that you should give them up. It is ex pected that you will do this; anil that you will, hereafter, so soon as a slave runs into , your country, take him up, and deliver him to the agent for his rightful owner. It is said that the whites have some of your slaves. The figent is directed to see justice done you, and whenever ho finds your slaves in possession of the whites, to demand their surren der. Brothers : Now that you re set tled in your new homes, I have to call your attention to a few things. Yonr young men are not always good. They go intothc settlements and steal and kill stock, and alarm the whites, and the women and chil dren. This must not be. You w ill therefore, give orders, toyouryouug men to keep within your limits, and if they will not obey you, you must punish them. If you do not, your Great Father will order his agent to let a heavy hand fall upon you If the whites trespass upon you, do not strike, hut go to the agent —he is di rected to protect you. You must, listen to these directions. Your Great Father will be kind to you, if you obey his council but if you do not, you will be punished. Brothers: Your Great Father ex pects you to live in peace with one another, to be industrious and sober. Druukcnness is a curse and no Indian ought ever to get drunk. It makes luma beast and brings him into troub le. Let alone the mad water and be sober. Brothers : The treaty provides a thousand dollars for the support of a school at the Agency, This is in tended to benefit your children. It 1- time it was in operation. It is there yonr children will lea. 11 to read and write, and to keep accounts; and how to make ploughs, and wheels and looms; and how to use them, and all other things useful to you. I our Great Father expects you to on courage these improvements in your children. The agent is direc ted to seek for a teacher, and when one gees out, he w ill go under the** protection of j our Great Father