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GEORGIA COURIER. I 3. G, M’WHOS.TSS. HEOTRir Z&lL&LXNCr, PUBLISHERS. rtrt&M—-This Paper is published every Monday and Ihnrfday afternoon, at $•’> 00 per annum, payable iu ad- ^»ucp, or $0 ftp at the expirat ion of the year. Advertisements not exceeding a square, inserted the no or 02 1-2 cents, and 43 3-1 eacliTOii- *tiii FOR THE GSOIKJIA COURIER. THE ECTI2WCS 01' IT^PZiTUOSXTy A COLLEGE TALE. ( Continued.) r f»e:i I resumed my place in the pas- after having warmed and dried my- !f hy the lire, the comparative comfort my situation, contrasted with that in tich I supposed Francis was placed, ruck my nfeid so forcibly, that I felt an [voluntary propensity to seek avain a micipalion of h>3 danger and snfferin tiioriiing»sufi, us it put to 'flight the linger ing clouds, was now more bright and gay than his countenance, yet these very clouds as they moved slowly and reluc tantly toward the horizon, seemed to say they had not entirely deserted their do minion, hut would, at some future period, assert it with increased force and violence. They admirably represented his occa sional fury, now indeed, expelled and sub dued by his efforts, but lowering in the horizon and threatening hereafter to over whelm this calm in his feelings, and again to rise in the whirlwind of passion and maniacy. Afier this adventure I carefully avoid ed even the most distant reference to the subject of his misfortunes or his conduct; for whalever might be my curiosity,—and now indeed it was infinitely increased,—I knew, by experience, that if gratified, it mnst be at too great an expense. The mystery, so far from being cleared up, ture, and niy reverie would perhaps have continued much longer had I not been aroused by an interruption as sudden as it was unexpected. A slight and cautious touch on my shoulder caused me to look to see who was the intruder. The flick ering light fell upon a dark and melancho ly countenance, that seemed the property of the dead. I started back with horror, and looked with terror upon the indistinct outlines of a figure, which seemed that of a wretched maniac, or else of a tenant of the grave, just escaped from its thraldom. I could not move from my situation, but remained intently regarding the dreary ! Love is impatient, aud Harriet counted the tedious minutes as she sat at her win dow and listened for the well known rap. The clock struck nine, aud yet Leland did not appear ;she thought she had been neglected of late, but then the flowers, he knew they were favorites of hers, and she thought, to receive them from his band, and hear him say, Harriet forget me not, would be sweet atonement for ninny little offences past, But ouce the thought stole to her bosom: peehaps they are des tined for another! She banished it with a sigh,, and it had hardly escaped her ere Charles Leland entered. She rose tore- — spectre that stood before me, with mingled j ceive him, and he gently took lifer hand! sensations of awe and fear. If it were a j * Accept’ said he, ‘my humble offering, human being, his appearance indicated • and forget me’-Harriet interrupted him as the most squalid misery and wretched ness he attempted to put a single flower in her ‘ where is the other’ said she as and his neglected beard, his long j bosom and busby hair, his body, half naked, all l she playfully put back bis band. A mo- evinced that he could not be in habits of! merit’s silence ensued ; Charles appeared interview with men. was increasing around me; -but however care we,e indelibly stamped upon his desirable an explanation of it might be, I 1 countenance; want and misery seemed to resolved never again to hazard such fear- j have joined iu making the desolate wreck ful consequences, as had already been oc- ' humanity, and the most sickly, disor- casioncd, by my incautious curiosity.— ! dered imagination could not have conjured L , Hence, instead of pressing upon any topic i U P» ^ or its own torment, a more frightful for were my ideas of his danger, or fears j 1,iat might lead to an explanation, every j aud squaHd phantom. Yet there was a for his safety, in the smallest" degree di- j thing having such a tendency, was studi- ! ot penetration and intelligence einit- ninished, by ’ ' 1 11 11 1 •' [the violence however, the abate, and the experience I just lmd of • >us, y avoided; and frequently the grateful j (:d froin beneath his dark eye-lashes, that of the storm. At length feelings produced by this course of con- i odered convincing proof, that he was not furv of the tempest began duc, » were observable in the manners of i nj w destitute of reason. I here was too ipest die muttering of the Francis, and showed that it was d suppose it a listant receding thunder showed that na- 1 predated by him. A dark shade ture, fatigued by her exertion, was about to sink into a temporary repose. The wind no longer drove the falling torrents, dense sheets through the atmosphere; ness would sometimes ruffle the usual se renitv of his countenance, lut a duly ap- j nn, ch of realiiy for me to 2 of sad- i phantom, and yet while I was suspended _ ' in doubt and apprehension, I was utterly _ ! unable to speak, so strange, so sudden, so fence to some lively subject of conversa- j unaccountable and overwhelming was the tion, was commonly sufficient to dispel the but it was now hushed into the soft, still j g| oom i a »d it passed away without produ- sighing of expiring violence, and formed ! C ‘“S any effects worthy of particular ob it tit and mournful accompaniment for the ! se fvation. I was further encouraged to monotonous pattering of the rain, as it i dds course of conduct, because it carried fell from the eaves of the house. Altho’ ; w ‘ ! ‘‘ it the satisfaction of apparently ren- the approaching calm had its effect on my ! der ‘ n 3 his situation much more comforta- mind, and in some degree quieted my j hie than it would otherwise have been; fears for my friend, I was not.sufficiently I and although I was continually on the nt ease to retire to my room. AJready ! rac h °f tormenting curiosity, I could con- had the melancholy twelve, tolled from the neighboring clock, and its deep tones were accordant with the surroundinggloom and silence. I kept my place with con tinued anxiety, and eagerly turned at every footstep I heard; but Francis had not yet come. A few tardy students came up, one sifter the other, and either passed me in silence, or, after a brief in quiry as to the cause of such solitary vi gils, retired to their rooms, to enjoy a rest peculiarly agreeable, when contrasted with my solicitude and watching. Even these occasional interruptions had tor some time ceased, and nought remain ed to disturb the lonely quiet of the hour, 'xcept the dripping of the rain and the melancholy moaning of the whip-poor- will, which seemed endeavoring to con sole himself for want of company hy his solitary cries. Except myself and the lonely bird, all nature appeared to be lulled into repose; but still T saw nothing of Francis. A slow deliberate step was presently heard upon the stairs, and, with hopes suddenly renewed, I listened to it with breathless anxiety. I thought >t could he no other than Francis, but not wishing to bo seen by him, I re tired to an obscure part of the passage, where I could observe him without expo sing myself to his vie v. The lamp in my room cast an imperfect light into the pas sage, by which I was enabled to observe the countenance of Francis, as he went to his room. It had lost all its violent excitement, but the deepest marks ofde- pression occupied the place of agitation, and his vehemence had all fled, or rather, settled down into a less perturbed state of grief and abstraction. The dripping mois ture of his hair and his garments was suf ficient proof, that he had not sought shel ter from the pelting storm, and his gene ral appearance was so wan, so sorrowful, and yet so composed, that, even had I the desire, I could not have ventured to dis turb him. I felt as if the impropriety and even the sacrilege would be as great, as to disturb the tenant of the grave, in one of its visits to the habitations at once loved so well. Satisfied with seeing him return in safety to his room, I followed his example in retiring, and enjoyed my repose lor the remainder of the night, in a much more perfect state of composure and content than I could before have ex pected. The rising sun and the cheering tones of tiie chapel bell, aroused me from rav slumbers and called the students to the morning service. The beauty and tran quillity of the morning formed a strikins contrast to the stormy night that preceded it. I observed, with some degree of anx iety, the groups of students as they as- : *mbled, to see if I could recognise amour'' their well known faces, the countenance of him whose absence had occasioned so great anxiety the night before. He came, and as he quietly took ins usual seat, not even the closeness of my observation could discover any thing extraordinary in bis appearance. The same composed, seri ous countenance, that he usually wore, and no greater degree cf melancholy, ! ceal its effects for the sake of contributing, in some degree, to his enjoyment, and in excluding from his mind more melancholy reflections. lie was now more frequently in company and seemed to take greater pains than usual to avoid solitude; not effect of Ids unexpected appearance. There was a mingled expression of calm ness and resolve in the dark countenance of the being that stood looking down upon me, and fur some minutes both of us re mained too much occupied with our own thoughts to break the spell-bound silence. At length he spoke: “Do yon not know me?” said he, in a slow and solemn tone. It was the voice of Francis! and as I uttered aloud iiis name, he advanced to offer his hand. I eagerly snatched it in mine, and the firmness and solidity of his grasp, thoroughly convinced me of the materiality of my visitor; and yet the cold and chilly touch of his long fingers that he appeared to relish or be pleased ! "’as almost sufficient to raise another doubt. with the enjoj'ments of society, for in the midst of mirth he was frequently absent and unhappy, but because he feared to be alone. I saw that he was miserable and that some dreadful secret pieyed upon his mind, and gangrened all his happiness; and sometimes so deep and sombre was his melancholy, that I could not avoid the suspicion that it could not be owing en tirely to misfortune. Yet from mv know ledge of his character, I could not willing ly entertain the idea that remorse occa sioned any portion of his grief. During my acquaintance with him, his conduct was universally so generous and honora ble, and his general demeanor so upright and correct, that I could not believe him capable of committing any act that could so much embitter his existence. Many an hour did I spend in conjuring up to my mind the thousand conjectures that occurred, to account for his unhappiness ; 1 ut none of them were satisfactory or cor rect. * Not long after his nocturnal exposure, we were again walking together at a con siderable distance from the village. We observed at a distance a servant coming rapidly towards jus on horseback and lead ing another horse ready equipped for ri ding; at first neither of us paid particular attention to the incident; but when he approached nearer, Francis seemed some what agitated, and hastily left my side.— He ran to the servant, who stopped at his approach a few words, that I could not hear, passed between them, and in a moment Francis was mounted on the charger. They turned; and, as the fare well rung upon my astonished ears, they disappeared at full speed, and in a few moments the only sound that reached me was the distant and receding trampling of the horses’ feet. * * * * This was the last that I heard of I- van cis for some months, and although I ad dressed several letters to the place of his supposed residence, no answer was re ceived, and I remained in all the anxiety of doubt and suspense. Weeks and months rolled on with rapid pace, and my mo ments were frequently occupied in reflec tions on the mystery which enveloped his conduct and character, and in conj -ctures ol his present situation and the causes of his long absence. The seasons in their regular progress came and passed in order, and now the reign of winter was forgotten antid the renovating influence of spring, and the warmth ol the weather showed that summer was not far in advance. On one evening, as I returned to the college from my meals, mv nflnd seemed more engrossed than usual, by the pervading subject of my recollections; ulii-h, so frequently occupied my mind and the me lancholy reflections of past events and of the mysterious Francis, stole with over powering force over my soul. I felt no His appearance now was somewhat simi lar to the appearance he exhibited on his return to his room, on the tempestuous night, when he wandered alone in the woods. The same calmness was there, but now mixed with deeper wrought and more engrossing grief, and it was the stern calmness of despair. The meanness and negligence of his diess showed that he must be an outcast from society; and his whole appearance stamped upon my mind the conviction that he was now a confirm ed lunatic, and that the present was one of the intervals in which a slight inter mission of the violence gj’his malady gave an opportunity for departing reason to re turn and once more, fora period, assert her temporary dominion, in a few expir ing attempts to resume her former sway. My astonishment at recognizing my friend in the wretched and disconsolate figuro before me, had a similar effect to that produced by his sudden appearance. For some time after I discovered who it was, I could say nothing; and it was not until bespoke again, that I regained pos session of my speech. With a voice whose solemnity rung upon my ears, as if it were emitted from the grave, he at length addressed me: “You see me for the last time, and I come only to fulfil the promise I made to disclose the cause and history of my mis fortunes. You must go with me and hear a narrative of too much horror to be re vealed in this place H tale of wo and of crime which few mortals shall ever know.” He tu ned and was leaving the room, but my doubts and apprehensions still chained me to the spot, and I could not resolve to accompany him, without at least demanding whither he would lead me. “ Where will I lead you?” he answer ed, “follow me;” aud seeing that I still •hesitated, he looked sorrowfully at me, and, with a complaining voice, continued, “I thought that I had one friend left.— Fool that I was, the wretched, the unfor tunate have no friends ! Alas, miserable that I am ! I know that I merit notyour friendship ; but I wished to show you that I value it;—I did not aspire to your es teem, but I thought I could claim your pity. In this, too, I am disappointed, and now farewell—farewell forever !” He started hastily away; but I could not bear to have him leave me thus ab ruptly; I called him again, and told him to lead the way and that I was now ready to follow wherever he would lead me. r To be continued.] The deepest lines embarrassed, and Harriet recollecting herself blushed deeply and turned it off; hut the flower was not offered again, and Charles ha 1 only said^argef me ! This could^not have been all he intend ed to say, but mutual reserve, rendered the remainder of the interview cold, formal & insipid ; <fc when Leland took his leave, Harriot felt more than ever dissatisfied.— As it was not yet late in the evening, she resolved to dissipate the melancholly that this little interview, in spite ofail her ef- foits to laugh at it, left on her mind, by spending a few minutes at a neighbour’s, whose three daughters were her most inti mate companions. The youngest of these ladies was a gay and interesting girl; and was the first to meet and welcome her young friend, but as she held out her hand, Harriet discov ered a little flower: it was a forget-mc- uof^ she examined it—it was Leland’s ; the mark she had made upon it, when she took it it from the basket of the flower girl, was there. This was at the mo ment, an unfortunate discovery. She had heard that Charles frequently visited the family ; and that he he had even paid attention to Jane; but she had never be fore believed it ; and now she shuddered at the idea of admiting that, for once, ru mour told truth. * Where did you get that pretty flower, Jane,’ said she. Oh a beau to be sure,’ said Jane archly; don’t you see, a—Forget-me-not;’ and as she took back the flower, ‘I should not like to tell you where I gott it; I’ll wear it on my bosom though—come sing:— I’U dearly love this pretty flower. For his own sake who bid me keep it— I’ll wear it on my bosom, s———” (From the Philadelphia Album.] (original.) “Who is that beautiful girl?” inquired Henry B—of his friend, “ I never saw so sweet a countenance !” “ That,” an swered his fiiend, “ is Miss H—, the rich heiress ; but I wonder you can think her beautiful; her affectation and vanity, which one can see at the first glance, arc enough to destroy the effect of her beau ty,” “ Pardon me,” exclaimed Henry, « the lady I mean cannot be vain or af fected, her countenance expresses the ve ry reverse ; you must have mistaken the lady at whom I was looking; she went into that milincr’s shop ; there might have been another lady with her.” “We will ^ee,” returned his friend. They accord ingly walked past the shop, and saw the modest and interesting Mary S—, who was personally known to the friend of Henry, Miss II—was also there, and the contrast between them was striking, as it respects dress and ornament; but no more so than that which their general deport ment and manners exhibited. “ Those young ladies,” said Henry’s friend, “ are often together, and yet there is not the least similarity between them, but they are related, and live in the same house, which accounts for it. Indeed, if report speaks truth, poor Mary has not a very enviable companion in her haughty and affected cousin, whom I suspect, con siders her merely as a foil to set oft'! her own charms; and who I have heard often treats the sweet girl with un ing rudeness. Mary is an orphan, and under the sole guardianship of the father eight feet, anti weighed omd pounds undisturbed, they are perfectly harnife never attacking, unless first attacked ’ They generally keep themselves in of-tlie-way places. J!J! ' The mention of one being killed Malden, in our last paper, seemed to ir- ny rather a singular circumstance but is said that there has been, and probab!-' are now, many of them in the vicinity i Malden Mount. There was a f ew Vf ... since, an old Indian who freq uen ,j. 3 caught them alive, and brought then / this town to exhibit. Malden Mount j 3 very rocky, wild place, perhaps more a slate of nature than any other spot with ’ in many miles. The late John Adams.—The tollo*j ri . Anecdote of this deservedly distinguish^ citizen, which the narrator, heard f ro " his own lips, will shew that this Count- owes to a singular circumstance all eminent services which this great Patriot <fc Statesman performed for his belove) Country. Joseph Adams, the grandfather of Job- who was an original proprietor of Brain! tree, was one ot eight sons of John Adams who was a persecuted religionist from En gland. The late John Adams, it appear! when young, was not distinguished for ar! ardent love oflearning. Study was irk some to him. imjuiu . *’ When 1 was a boy (the old man was bernm- beard frequently to say, even to the he days of his life,) I had to study Lati: Grammar; but it was dull and I hatedir , j lege and therefore I studied the gram j j till I could bear with it no longer; UliliLl IUL OUiL gum UiauOiillJ lilU lUiULl | /» . . * * of Miss II— ; she is an amiable as well as ; ,* ^ at , c , r u a ,^ an A 10lJS s ? nd 1710 to Col- beautiful girl ; her father’s affairs were much embarrassed when he died ; and you see she has sense enough to acco'm- ... , - modate hor dress to her circumstances. It j 1 e stu V, and asked iOr some other em- is perfectly neat, but very plain,” Hen- j ^ t . uas . °PP osin g bis wishes ry thought he had never seen so becom- Ml 11 , f uas quick.in 1ms answer.—‘ Well ing a dress. His feelings were interested! °.. 111 ’ sai ie » d Latin grammar does not ammar anc going to my lather, I told him I did no: by this brief account of the young lady whose appearance had so much pleased him, and begged his friend to introduce Mary. The introduction was soon ac complished, aud Henry was more pleased with the manners and conversation of Ma ry than lie had been with her appearance. The sweetness and modesty of her be haviour, contrasted with the vain and af fected manners of her wealthy cousin, was peculiarly striking. Miss H. was jealous of the attention paid to her unassuming companion, and treated her with all the j suit you, you may try ditching, perhnp. that will ; my meadow yonder needs ditch, and you may put by Latin a id trv that.’ ■ This seemed a delightful change, and to the meadow I went. But I soon found ditching harder than Latin, and the first forenoon was the longest I ever experien ced. That day I eat the bread of labor, and glad was 1 when night came on. That night I made some comparison between Latin grammar and ditching, but said not a word about it. I dug the next forenoon, IT.0M THE EMPORIUM. showed that there were no longer any inclination for reading or study, and sat remaining effects of his recent excitemenr. • for some hours at the window’ admiring I could not but admire the coincidence the calmness and serenity of the night, in the changes of the weather, with those j which was so congenial to the soft Influ- ihat exhibited themselves in his conduct : | encc of my thoughts. The depth and THE TWIN FLOWERS. “ Will you buy my flowers,” said a neat looking girl, addressing herself to a young lady in Chesnut Street, and bolding out at the same time a small basket containing some beautiful roses, “they are all newly blown and fresh ; b.uy a red rose for your hair, Miss; here’s one that will look de lightful twined among those pretty locks.” Not a rose my child” said the young la- and the feeling of the moment involunta- ; gloom of my feelings gradually increased, ■ dv “ there are thorns among them—but lily suggested to mv mind that some sym- ; and bow tiie expiring flame of the candle pa thy must exist between his history and ! burnt down to the socket, admonished the weather, and that the very elements me of the lateness of the hour, but to no were interested in his fate. The lower- 1 effect, for in such a state of mind I could ing of the overhanging clouds of the eve- j not have slept. I felt peculiarly disposed iiing, w is iu hard aud dreadful consonance j to give a free rein to the influence of my with tke gloom that hung upon his mind; ; feelings and reflections, and abandoning die warfare of the elements did not ap-j myself without resistance to their opera- pear superior, in force and fury, to the dreadful storm of his passions, that suc ceeded in bis wandering, and the most violent tempest asserted its reign cotcm- jioraneously, over the unfortunate Francis and over the surrounding atmosphere.— Then the comparative calm that succeed ed, iu u nidi nature sunk in dreary ex haustion, was similar to the disconsolate melancholy he exhibited on his return to , h>«r?2tn; and ff the cheering light of the tion, I became completely absorbed, and almost unconscious of my situation. Re sistance would have been unavailing, and the deep influence of my reflections came over me with a power as uncontrollable as it was complete, and an almost invo luntary sensation forced me quietly to submit. I leaned upon the table, with my head upen my arms, and devoted my- sedf entirely to these dreams of the past. Fer a long time I remained in this pcs- I’ll take this little flower, it looks lively and sweet, oh it’s a Forget-me-not!’ par don me, Miss,’ replied’the child, ‘that flower is engaged,* ‘To whom!’ To master Cha’s. Leland.’ ‘ Charles Leland, indeed’ said the lady—‘ well, but here’s another, what a beautiful pair !’ ‘ they are all twin flowers—they are both for that gentleman said the little girl. ‘ Oh, a fig for him !’ said the young lady ; but an arch smile played upon her cheek as she said it, and something sparkled in her beautiful dark eye that told a tale her lips refused to utter: while she ingeniously marked both the favorite flowers, and retured them to the basket; then choosing a little bunch of roses, she walked home, leaving the flower girl to visit the rest of her custom ers. , ‘Ilush Jane’ said Harriet, interrupting her; ‘my head aches, your singing dis tracts me.’ ‘Ah it’s your heart,’ said Jane, ‘or you would not look so dull.’ Well ifit is my heart,’ said Harriet, as she turn ed to conceal her tears, ‘it dont become you to trifle with it.’ She intended to con vey a double meaning in this reply, but it was not taken, and as soon as possible, she returned home. A sleepless night followed: Harriet felt that she was injured; and the more she thought about it the more she felt. She had engaged her hand to Leland six months before ; the time appointed for- their union was approaching fast, and he acted thus ! ‘ If he wants to be freed from his engagement,’ said she to herself, ‘ I will give him no troubb,’ and she sat down and wrote, requesting him to dis continue his visits. She wept over it a flood of tears : but she was resolute until she had despatched the note to his resi dence. Then she repented of if, and then again reasoned herself into the belief that she had acted right. She waited for the result; not without many anxiously cher ished hopes that he would call for an ex planation. But she only learned that the letter was delivered into his hands ; and about a month afterwards he sailed forEnu- latid. This was an end to the matter. Charles went into business in Liverpool, but nev er married; and Harriet remained single, devoting her life to the care of her aged mother, and ministering to the wants cf the poor and distressed around her. About 40 years after Leland left Phil adelphia, Harriet paid a visit to New York and dining in a large company one day, an old gentleman, who it seemed was a bachelor, being called upon to defend the fraternity to which he belonged, from the aspersions of some af the company, told a story about Philadelphia, and a court ship and an engagement, which he alleg ed was broken off by his capricious mis tress, for no other reason than his offering her a sweet new blown forget-me-not, six weeks before she was to have been made bis wife. ‘ But was there no other cause’ asked Harriet, who sat nearly opposite the stranger, and eyed him with intense curiosity-” none,to my knowledge, as hea ven is my witness.” ‘ Then what did you do with the other flower!’ said Harriet; the stranger gazed in astonishment; it was Leland himself, and he recognized his Harriet, though half a century had passed since they net; and before they parted, the mischief made by the twin flowers was all explained away, and might have been forty years before, had Charles said he had lost one of the forget-me-nots, or had Jane said she had found it. The'old couple never married : but they corres ponded constantly afterwards, and I always thought Harriet looked happier after this meeting than she had ever looked be fore. Now I have only to say at the conclusion of my story, to my juvinile reader ; nev er let an attachment be abruptly broken off, let an interview and a candid expla nation speedily follow every misunder standing. For the tenderest and most val uable affections when won, will be the easiest wounded; and beleive me, there is much truth in Tom Moore’s senti ment:— “A something light as air, a look, A word unkind or wrongly taken— The love that tempest never shook, A breath—a touch like this has shaken." companion, ana treated tier wan all tne | " - ...... pretty scorn which little maids are apt to j a,ld wanted .}.° r . 0,urn to Eatin at dinner,b.i: affect for those to whom fortune has been lf Was ' lun,d,a ting, and I could not do it. sparing of her favours, more especially if nature has been bountiful. Her own per sonal attractions which were great, had i they not been obscured by ridiculous van- I ity, were heightened by all the aids of: dress and ornament, and hitherto she had been gratified by observing, that general- ; Iy in the circle in which they moved, her ! own elegance and fashion, aided by her i coquetish airs, had attracted that attention 1 which she was ambitious to obtain,—while j the unobtrusive charms of Mary, had been | suffered to pass unnoticed. But that cir- ! cle was not composed of the discerningand j enlightened, who are capable of apprecia- | ting met it, and looked with coldness on ' beauty and fashion, unless accompanied I by goodness and modesty. With respect to their new visitors, Henry B—’ and his friend, the scene was changed, and Miss -H—soon perceived that in Mary she had a powerful rival. This was to her peculi arly mortifying, as, on account of his for tune, and the elegance of his person, she considered Henry a conquest worth ma king. Her artillery of airs and graces, was, however played ofi'in vain. Unaf fected sweetness and modesty carried the day ; and in due time, Mary became the happy wife of Henry B , while, for At night toil conquered pride, and 1 told my father, one of the severest trials ofmv life, that, it lie chose, I would go back to Latin Grammar. He was glad oi'ir ; and if I have since gained any distinction, i: lias been owing to the two days- labour that abominable ditch ” The following statement of the gallant j conduct of a sailor on board of the steam- j boat Perry, was banded us by Mr. Wm. ; K. Rule, of this city, ("St. Lnuis.^ John Mandeville, commonly called Jack j Mandeville, a sailor by occupation, was j one ot the hands employed on board the j keel boat O. II. Perry, at the time shu^ j was attacked by the Winnebago Indians, I and signally distinguished himself, hy ral- j tying all hands to battle and exertion, I compelling some with his bayonet to their j dut y, a ad by his deliberate and daring bra very in getting out at the bow of the boat, and shoving oft, whilst the Indians wen firing on him,exclaimed, as lie went out, “damn it, boys, it won't do to be butchered and let the boat be taken aground-—if Jack is killed, it will be in a good cause, so here's push off the boat." In this he succeeded, and in getting her under weigh, but not without a number of bul- any thing I know to the contrary, Miss | lets'having passed through his clothing II—is still practising her airs of coquetry ! r - — ■ j some of which raised the skin. When he 1 ' vas a P :i iu on board he cried, “ damn you~ ! eyes shoot better or quit " | To the intrepidity of Jack is to be at- ! tributed 'he failure of the Indians and the ; preservation of the boat and crew, ami also of the keel boat General Ashley, tliet i a few minutes astern of the Perry. Hue I they succeeded in capturing tho one, the tlesnake inhabits North America. It is of 1 other could not well have escaped. Ought a yellowish brown color, and from three j I!ot mu n to be noticed ? Ought he to five feet in length. The rattle is fixed | pot to receive the thanksf of his fellow-cit- to tiie end of the tail ; is composed of drv ! * ze ns ? Ifhe had been an officer iu the hollow bones nearly of the same shape J army,- he would have received thanks and and size. Naturalists have been perplex- | promotion—but fighting, as he did, with* od with regard to the object of this instru- i out any view to fame or reward, his cou- ment; some haye thought it designed to j du ct is doubly meritorious. and affectation, on the silly beaux bv whom she is surrounded. ’ IL M. ]From the Charlestown, (Bucher IIitl) Aurora ] THE RATTLESNAKE. Of this animal there are five species, all natives of America. The banded rat- wam other animals of their danger others to charm ; but this last opinion is now nearly exploded. It may be that the appearance of the snake, to creatures who instantly recognize it for their mortal en emy, and the sound of the rattie, (which is the signal for execution,) impresses them with terror, which withers all the energies of their frame. Rattlesnakes have been known to en ter houses, and sometimes to insinuate themselves into beds. Their bite is poi sonous and rapidly fatal, and has beeu known to kill a man in a few minutes.— By the Indians, when their bite is receiv ed in a fleshy part, the knife is used with all possible despatch. In slight cases roots are used; in some they suck the wound ; but if a principalNein is pene trated with tfce animal’s full strength, the case is abandoned as hopeless. From experiments made on dogs, by the bite of a snake, one was killed in a quarter of an hour; another, bitten afterwards, in two hours, and a third, bitteD last, in three. The animal has been made to bite itself, and the wound proved fatal in about twelve rrfinutes. It is said to have the singular faculty of swallowing its young, on the approach of danger, and disgorging them when it has passed by. This has been observed by Mr. Bouvais, In the winter they are gregarious, and secure themselves from the rigor of the season by withdrawing deeply into the earth. A fair day may some times bring them out, they will be weak, and may then be taken without danger. Catesby, who has paid particular attention jo this animal The above information is from who were on board. those The following observations from tho American Quarterly Review on a work entitled “ Political Syolcm of America niet it the serious attention of the friends to a permanency of our Union : \Yhen he denies that there are anv dangers to be apprehended from an oppo sition by the State Governments to the measures of the General Government, and professes to regard the Federal Judi ciary as a sufficient stay and barrier of its legitimate powers, we must be permitted to enter our caveat against too strong a re liance on this support. It is our deliberate- opinion that the union of the State's, in its existing form, has much more to appre hend from the State Governments than from any cnroachment by the Confedera tion. It would lead us too far from our subject, and engross too many cf the pa ges allotted to us, to state our reason for this conviction as fully as we would wish- It may be sufficient to suggest to our au thor, that he had not given their due weight to the great and rapidly encreas- mg strength of some of the States, to their organized power for good or evil, and to the comparative intensity of the popular attachment to the State authorities.— These are incidents to our Federative po sition which seem to require of all men who love freedom, and duly prize our ines timable Constitution, that they should la bor, without ceasing, to discourage theo retic jealousies of the General Govern- , . , - ment, and to render its ordinary operations says the largest he ever saw, was in length i as palatable as they are salutary.”