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THE Hill it published every SATURDAY Morning, In the Brick Building, al the Corner of Colton .1 venue and First Street, IN TIIE CITV OF MACON, GA. «Y W.II. B. IIAHItISOV. TER M S . For the Paper, in advance, per annum, $2. If not paid in advance, 50, per annum. If not paid until the end of the Year iji3 00. [Tj* Advertisements will be inserted atthe usual rltes —and when the number of insertions de sired is not specified, they will be continued un til forbid and charged accordingly. Iff* Advertisers by the Year will be contracted with upon the most favorable terms. Jjf Sales of L ind by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, are required by Law, to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten o'clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af ternoon, at the Court House of the county in which the Property is situate. Notice ofthese Sales must be given in a public gazette sixty da vs previous to the day of sale. tfj’Sales of Negroes by Administators, Execu tors or Guardians, must be at Public Auction on, the first Tuesday in the month, between the legal hours of sale, before the Court House of the county where the Letters Testamentary, or Administration or Guardianship may have been granted, first giv ing notice thereof for sixty days, in one ofthe pub lic gazettes of this State, and at the door of the C turt House where such sales are to be held. (D* Notice for the sale of Personal Property must be given in like manner forty days previous to the day of sale. to the Debtors and Creditors of an Es tate must be published for forty days. jV»iivc that application will be made to the Ciurt of Ordiniry for leave to sell Land or Ne groes must be published in a public gazette in this State for four months, before any order absolute can he given by the Court. for Letters of Administration on ati Estate, granted by the Court of Ordinary, must be published thirty days -for Lettersof Dismis sion from the administration of an Estate, monthly for six months —for Dismission from Guardian ship forty days. rj*llcLF.s for the foreclosure of a Mortgage,! must he punlished monthly for four months — for establishing lost Papers, for the full space of three months —for co npelling Ti tles from Ex ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond hasbeen given by the deceased, the full space of THRF.F. MONTHS. N II All Business of this kind shall receiv prompt attention at the SOUTHERN MUSEUM Oifice, and strict care will be taken that all legal Advertisements are published according to Law. O’ All Letters directed to this Office or the Editor on business, must be post-paid, to in sure attention. f~J) “A Ell TLB dIOaCE GKAPE.” fJNHE undersigned, f-ue to his promise, again 1. presents to the Public more data on which they can safely base their calculations relative to the respective merits of ilia depleting system ofthe disciples of Esculapius, and of that invig orating and phlogestic one of which lie is proud to be the advocate. Leaving the stilts of egotism and shafts of rid icule for the use of those who have nothing bet ter to stand on, and no other weapons for attack or defence, he selects his standing on truth, and uses such support only as merit gives him ; and for weapons, he chooses simply to assail the ranks of the enemy occasionally with “a little more grape,” in the form of facts,which are evi dently the hardest kind of arguments since they often administer to Ins quiet amusement by the terrible destruction they cause among the stilts and the ludicrous effect they produce in causing certain iutiivinOals to laugh, as it is xorprsssoct in homely phrase, “on t’other side the mouth.” 'flie Mexicans are not the only people, these days, whom vanity lias blinded to their own de fects; neither can they claim much superiority in the way of fancied eminence and blustering bravado over many that live a great deal nearer home. A salutary lesson lias latterly been giv en the former by the Americans, and the latter may cro long take “ another of the same ” ala mode de Tui,lor. After the following there will still bo “a few mure left." Georgia, Jones Countv, 1348. This certifies that for more than four or five years my wife was afflicted with a disease pecu liar to her sex, and notwithstanding all that we could do, she still continued to get worse. The Physicians in attendance had exhausted their skill without rendering her anv assistance till, in 1844, when she was confined to her bed in a very low condition, I got her last attendant to go with me to Macon and lay her case before Dr. M. 8. Thomson, who, without having seen her, prescribed and sent Iter medicine that soon re lieved her, and in the course of a short lime re stored her to permanent health She has now been well about four years and rejoices in the recovery of her Ion" lost health FRANCIS B. 11ASCAL. Macon. June 22d, 1848. Du. M. S. Thomson— Dear Sir :—Deeming it it duty I owe to yourself as well as to the afflicted generally, I have concluded to give you a short statement of my case, which you are at liberty to publish if you think that the best mode oftliereby subserving the interests of suffering humanity In May 1841, after considerable exposure to cold, I was attacked with Asthma, which pros trated me very much, and notwithstanding all that could be done to prevent it, it continued to return about every two weeks till in 1846, I ap plied to you. Between these attacks I bad a very severe cough, which led some of the physicians to whom I applied to believe that I had consump tion. 1 applied to physicians of both the Min eral and Botanic schools, of eminent general qualifications, but all to no benefit, for I contin ued to get worse,so much so that l had reducer 1 f ont being a strong, fleshy man, down to a mere skeleton and.could hardly creep about.—When 1 applied to you, I had hut little faith in being cured, though I had witnessed some wonderful results following your treatment, especially the cure of that crazy woman you bought of Aquii lu Phelps, in Jasper, yet they gave me confl uence and by persevering in the use of your remedies, and as it were hoping against hope, urn much gratified in being able to announce tat I have got entirely well, for I have bad but one fight attack in twenty months, and that was 1 . ,n( *nthe ago. I have now regained about former weight, and feel as strong as almost any man of fitty-one, which is my age. Without ' isparagement to the character ofthe other cures t - at j’J oso frequently resulted from your prac t'| U ” /' 0 not think that any of them can beat us, or confirmed Asthma combined with a sumptive cough, especially where the flesh cur has long been classed among the in 'nmles. Most respectfully,yours, H. LIGHTFOOT. he undersigned still continues to treat Cliro tln> C ' ,sus -It°in a distance at his olflco,or either of tliron.7 , ! oardin i8 houses, and at a distance W |, (| 's 1 , ' | o mail or by private hand. Those at C _"' u require personal attention, are treated Ug , 1 " ' ll rs per month, those who do, at the pay no ''erato rates. Those who are able to on,, j" 181 wpe-.t to do so, without variation from t] lt>s ' ri ! ls ’ utl 'ess a distinct bargain is made, , * '"•« not, will tie treated gratuitously. ' rs " l ust he post-paid, and add'essed ian „ M. S. THOMSON, M. D Macon, Ga. THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM. VOLUME I. o e t r g. Sons of the Laborer. Oh ! can 1 forget as I bend o’er my loom, So many long hours, in this dark, stifling room, My boyhood's sweet time when I roamed all the day Untnnicly glad as a bird in its play ? Ob ! can 1 forget when myown darling wife Is soothing her hungry ones, calming their strife, Her tears rolling down as she thinks of their fate, How fair and light-hearted her maidenly state? Ob ! can I forget with what joy and what pride I saw in the future a happy fire-side, When our aid age should rest in the cradle of home, Where, when Christmas was merry, our chil dren should come. Alas ! for the boyhood forever departed ; Alas ! for the maiden so fair and light-hearted; Alas! for the home and the happy ones nigh; God help us ! we live but to toil and to die. The March of Intellect. A parent ask’d a I’riest his child to bless, Who forthwith told him he must first confess. Well, said the bny, suppose then I am willing, What is your charge? To you ’lis but a shilling. Do all men pay ? and all men make confession ? Yes, hoy, every one of Catholic profession. Pray, sir, do you confess? Yes, to the Dean. And do you pay him? Aye, a whole thirteen. Do Deans confess ? A r es, boy, they do— Confess to Bishops, and pay something too. Do Bishops, sir, confess ? If so, to whom ? Why they confess, boy, to the Pope of Rome. Well, said the boy, all this is mighty odd ; And does the Pope confess? Yes, boy, to God. And does God charge the Pope ? No, quoth the Priest, God charges nothing. Oh ! then God is best; I He’s ready to forgive, and always willing. To him, then, I’ll confess, and save my shilling. A Wealthy Invalid. We find in Fraser’s Magazine a series of papers on “Matrimony,” from which we extract the following ; Lord and Lady Eskdale had been for some time in pretty constant residence at liashleigh. Her health was too delicate to go that season to London, and lie had run to and fro on what he called “parlia mentary duties.” We need not inquire very minutely into the nature of these.— A member of the Upper House, having no impertinentconstituents to reckon with, can do, iu this respect, pretty much as he fancies. Lord Rashleigh, it is whispered, discha ged most of his onerous duties at his club or elsewhere. But my lady nev er read the debates, or looked into the di visions. She had her own thoughts to en gross her. A morning room at liashleigh Court had been fitted up f»r the comfort and exclusive use of the invalid, and now a bed-room suite was added on the same ground floor, to prevent the fatigue to the poor occupant of passing up and down the staircase—a fatigue most severe in the then state of her pulmonic complaint, which was fast assuming a hopeless char acter. The ancient, small-paned, recess ed windows of this sitting room had been formed into aviaries, by large plates of glass fixed between them and the cham ber; the bright, although winter, sun shone gaily in, making the feathered ptis oners lively ; rare plants were in bloom on a stand, and the old English sea-coal, which had conquered the climate, and given them vital heat, imparted the same to the luxurious apartment, in which the temperature was as near Italian as art could render it. Art, too, had furnished the room with all that could minister to grati fication, mental or bodily. In one point there was a failure ; Lady Eskdale was dying, and all but herself knew it. Wast ed to a skeleton, the gown which covered her feeble frame was of the very latest Pa ris fashion ; the hair, grown thin, and al though the natural flaxen hue rendered the change less obvious, grown grey also, elaborately curled, its long fqpble ringlets doing credit to Felicie’s skill, but little becoming the hollow cheek and glassy eye, which wanted the repose and shadow of a different arrangement, this one adding most painfully to the worn-out, half-effa ced, as it were, yet deeply lined and rest less countenance. And restless, indeed, was that unhappy sufferer—querulously, ; crossly, discontentedly re«tless all day ; j •ud restless from cough, unless stupified by opiates, all night ; nothing amused, nothing soothed her. A broad riband, at tached to the bell rope, to prevent the ne cessity of rising, lay in her listless hand.— MACON, (GA.) SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 29, 1819. She had put down the sentimental French novel, which had failed to interest; but what could she ring for? The children. And she rang once—twice, and exhaust ed with the effort sank back. They did not instantly appear at the summons ; she grew vexed, flushed, then coughed, took a spoonful of emulsion, and rang again- By the time they appeared she had work ed herself into a state of excitement which disposed her to quarrel, even with the pal lid mild face, which timidly watching hers betokened the delicate health of a silent ly-suffering child. Lady Emily Rash leigh made a dancing-master’s curtesy to her mamma. “Very awkward, Emily ; do that again. Gussy, come here, and make a curtesy too.” The governess led the frightened Gussy forward. “Now, then, Miss Rule, make them 1 curtesy properly.” And the curtesys were repeated till Lady Emily burst out crying, saying it hurt her knee. “Hurts her knee ! What docs she mean, Miss Rule ?” Now Lady Emily had been some time suffering from incipient disease of the knee-joint, but her mother was not in formed of it, lest it might agitate her deli, cate state of health. Poor Miss Rule, therefore, knowing that farther curtseying would be injurious to the knee, and yet afraid to communicate the truth to Lady Eskdale, was hesitating what to reply, when Port, gently forwarding to the in valid lady the sonorous announce of footmen in the hall, ushered in Mr. Pulpit cushion. What relief to the little girls and Miss Rule, who curtesyed out of the room, and to their mamma, who wanted amusement! What a relief ! hut not to Mr. Pulpitcushion. The worthy vicar of the parish was most awkwardly situated ; anxious to awaken the dying woman’s mind to some graver ideas titan the law of curtsying, he yet did not know how to treat the case ; had she been a poor parishoner Mr. Pulpitcushion, who was a bachelor, and shy of the sex, would have been able to gain upon the mind, and prepare it for religious impres sions by kind alms, and judicious interest in little worldly matters; but, good-heart ed, charitable vicar! he could not offer broth to the countess, nor volunteer to befriend her children. In fact, lie had never been treated in any way as if he were of the same stuff’ as au earl, and feared, therefore, to commit himself by talking to a countess as though she were of the ordinary human materials. And vet he had some notion a countess had a soul to be saved—that it was saved in the same way as a cottager’s—that it was his duty to attempt the task—but bow to set about it ? He saw the French novel lying there. Now French being a language unheard of at English universities, he could only judge of its meaning by its chance resem blance to Latin. The title of tho open book was perfectly innocent; he asked her ladyship, therefore, sundry questions on her reading in general, and that book in particular—rather puzzling to reply to —for it was a mad, loose novel by Gozlan called Pere la Chaise, which he, knowing that was the name of the Parisian cemete ry, supposed might be a treatise some thing like Drelincourt on Death, or Her vey’s Meditations, and though it was in dulging a morbid fancy to read it, he re joiced that the countess had begun to be lieve she might, peradventure, be mortal —a fact which, before that day, nothing had seemed to indicate. Pcrc la Chaise not leading to any result, Mr. Pulpitcushion was charmed with an idea which seemed very promising; in the course of bis reading he had been struck with the ingenious manner in which the sins of incipient Grande Monarques and other celebrities, above the common modes of punishment, had been correcled by the transference to a “whipping-boy’’ of their own merited flagellations—he would apply the system. There was poor Nelly Grey, dying of consumption ; he would relate Nelly’s symptoms, feelings, and improvement in religious character, under his teaching ; and so the countess might be taught, as the “whipping-boy” had learned the lessons for Jamie Stuart, who through that means became a won derful pedant at last. (Who knows what the "whipping boy” became /) “Poor Nelly Grey’s case is pronounced hopeless,” said Mr. Pulpitcushion. “Is it*” replied Lady Eskdale. “Well, I think it is a good thing when poor peo ple die—what enjoyment in life can they have ?” “Perhaps your Ladyship thinks there is H tie true enjoyment for any one in this transitory world “Oh, dear no. I only meant for poor people. lam sure I should enjoy a great deal if they would let me. They make me so weak by shutting me up in this wretched room.’” Mr. Pulpitcushion did not think it so ve ry wretched; but lie only remarked, as he recollected Nelly’s shaking casement, Perhaps the double windows give a gloomy air; but they exclude the draughts.” “Gloomy! oh dear, no! Sun enough to make my head ache. And those birds sing so!” Mr. Pulpitcushion drew down the blind. “Nelly Grey is so very contented and patient,” he timidly remarked. “ The poor ought to be so—they want so little. I wish they would let me take a drive. Dr. Calomel is very tiresome. I don’t see how I can be expected to eat and sleep without air or exercise!” “Nelly Grey is in a happy frame of mind, only deeply regretting she did not> when in health go to church so often as she might have done. She cannot go now.” “It is very wicked of the poor not to go to church. 1 hey have no excuse for stay ing away.” Mr. Pulpitcushion wondered if the rich had any ; but Lady Eskdale continued, — “I always make a point of the servants going. They have to learn not to break the ten commandments, and so many things.” “It is a great privilege to be a member of a Christian congregation,” suggested the divine, “to join in prayer and praise.” “Oh dear yes! I dare say—if they would not sing so barbarously. One can’t join in that ; and it would be very distressing to make any of the responses, for they can only apply to the poor ; but one does it for the good ofthe congregation, as an exam ple, 1 know 1” Her ladyship uttered this with a thor ough conviction of her own religious well doing. The vicar thought of Nelly Grey anu her fervently clasped skeleton fingers; her earnest eyes gazing in hopeful rap ture, as if for her the heavens were open ing. He repeated half audibly,—“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” wondered if coun tesses ever “obtained mercy,” and took his leave, heartily perplexed, since his idea of teaching by example was an utter failure. Sweating Him. —A young candidate lately presented himself before a certain medical society for examina’ion, and, if accepted, was to receive a degree from the society. The censors went on with the examination so far as to find him gross ly ignorant. His embarrassments and mortification had thrown him iuto a violent sweat. In this pickle, one of the censors asked him what course he would take with a patient afflicted with the rheumatism. He replied, “I would sweat him.,, “Well,” said the censor, “and what me thod would you take to sweat him V’ The poor fellow, who began to be a lit tle angry on the occasion, replied, “l would send him here, l swear, to be examined !” Ax Interesting Custom. —From that delightful book, bv Mrs. Kirkland, “Holi days Abroad, or Europe from the West,” we glean the following curious practice among the Dutch at Haarlem. It appears that the inhabitants, on the birth of a child place a gaily-trimmed pincushion at the door of the house. If the new-comer be a daughter, the pincushion is white, if a son, there is a strip of red introddeed un der the worked muslin. The exhibiton of this token secures to the house certain privileges, such as exemption from legal execution, and whatever would be likely to disturb the mother. If troops pass, the drums are silent for the time, and all clas ses honor the custom and the symbol. Strong Comendation. — For sale, a brown horse, with a Roman nose. He is in good health, and very fond of traveling having run away four times within a week. Nowhere.” —The Pi tsburgh Chroni cle says, “Nowhere is the place where he banks lend money to poor men in stead of the rich, whodo not need it,” NUMBER 44. Genuine and True. —A young man who boarded at a house in the country, where were several coy damsels, was on one afternoon accosted by an acquaintance and asked vvliat he thought of the young ladie9. He replied they were very shy ami reserved. “So they arc,” returned the other, “and so much so, that no gentleman conld get near enough to tell the color of their eyes.” “That may be,” said the boarder quick ly, “yet 1 will stake a million that I can kiss them all three without any trouble.” “That you cannot do,” cried his friend. “It is an achievement which neither you nor any other man can accomplish. The other was positive, and invited his friend to the house to witness liis triumph. They entered the room together, and the three girls were all at home sitting beside their mother, and they all looked as prim and demure as John Rogers at the stake. Our hero assumed a very grave aspect, even to dejection—and looking wistfully at the clock, breathed a sigh as deep as algebra, and as long as a female dialogue at the street door. His singular deport ment now attracted the attention of tho girls, who cast their slow opening eyes upward to his countenance. Perceiving the impression he had made, he turned to his companion and said in a doleful voice— it wants three minutes of the time.’ ‘Do you speak of dinner?’ said the old lady, putting down her sewing work. ‘Dinner ?’ said he, with a bewildered aspect, and pointing as if miconciouslv, with curled forefinger at the clock. A silence ensued, during which the fe male part of the household glared at the young man with irrepressible curiosity. “You will see me decently interred,’ said he turning again to his friend. His friend was as much puzzled as any body present,and his embarrassment added to the intended effect. But the old lady being no longer able to contain herself, cried— ‘Mr. C. pr&y what do you speak of?’ ‘Nothing,’ answered he, with a lugubri ous tone —‘but that last night a spirit ap peared to me,’ here the girls rose to their feet and drew near—‘and the spirit gave me warning that I should die exactly at twelve o’clock to-day,and you see it wants but half a minute of the time ! The girls turned pale, and their hidden sympathies were at once awakened for the doomed and departing one. They stood chained to the spot, looking alternately at the clock and the unfortunate youth ; he then walked up to the eldest of the girls, and taking her by the hand, bade her a solemn farwell. He also imprinted a kiss upon her trembling lips ; which she did not attempt to resist. He bade the second and third farewell in the same manner. His object was achieved, and at that moment the ciock struck twelve. Hereupon he looked a round surprised, and ejaculated, ‘who would believe that an apparition could teii such a lie. It was probably the ghost of Ananias or Sapphira. It was sometime before the sober mai dens understood the joke, and when they did, they evinced no resentment. The first kiss broke the ice, and thanks to the Ghost, they discovered that there was some pleasure in the pressure of a bearded j cheek. 00“ That was a good one of a man j who stopped at a tavern to pass the night. In the room were two beds ; and when safely ensconced, and about to fall into a pleasant slumber, the landlord taps gent ly- “ What’s the matter ?” says the traveller. “I wish to put a man in one of those beds.” “Nobody can come here. Please put the bed in the bill,” says he. “That won’t answer my purpose,” said the host. “I don’t wish to put the bed in to the bill; I want to put Bill into the bed !” Conundrums. —Why is silence like decayed fruit ? Ans. — It is not sound. Wherein do a wise man, a grocer’s till and a polecat resemble each other ? Ans.—They have sense, cents, 6cenls. Why are tho editors of Shakspeare like inferior murphies ? Ans.—They are commentators (com mon tate s.) How would you change a cur to a lock of hair ? Ans.-—Add the letter 1. BOOK AND JOB PRINTING, Will he executed in the most approved styl e and on the best-terms, at the Office %f the 3CTTSE2.IT MTSE-JM, —BY— WM. B. HARRISON. Early Rising. Every young man then, who desires to he intellinent, good, and happy, should learn to rise early in the morning. He should do this for various and strong rea sons ; among which are the following . 1. It is healthy to rise early.—\l is scarcely possible to find a healthy person, very old, who has not been habitually an early riser. Sickly and infirm old people I know there may be, who have been in the habit, through life, of late rising, but not many healthy ones. The following are the names and ages of several men, most of whom were eminent and remarka bly healthy, who were distinguished for early rising. Some of them rose as early as four o’clock in winter and summer : and one or two of them as early as three in summer. Dr. Franklin, 84 ; John Wesley, 88; Buffon, the naturalist, 81 ; Stantslaus, King of Poland, 89 ; Lord Coke, 85 ; Fuseli the painter, 81 ; President Cbaun cey, of Harvard College; 81 ; Washington 68; Matthew Hale, GS; Mr. Priestley, 71 ; Dr. Samuel Bard, 79; Bishop Burnett, 72; James Mason, 100 ; Lewis Cornaro, over 100. 2. It is delightful to rise early. — Can any one entertain a doubt on this point ? None can, 1 am sure, who have tried it. All the early risers I have ever seen, find early rising agreeable. One author, in treating on this subject, has the following remarkable words. “There is no time equal in beauty and freshness to the morning, when Nature has just parted with the gloomy mantle which night had flung over her. The for est leaves sparkle with crystll dew; the flowers raise their rejoicing heads towards the sun ; the birds pour forth their anthems of gladness; and the wide face of creation itself seems as if awakened and refreshed from a mighty slumber.” 3. It is good for the menial thinking pow ers to rise early. —Solomon says, “Let us get up early to vineyard ; let us see if the vines flourish ; if the tender grape appears ; if the pomegranates bud forth.” The wise mau takes it fur granted here that the mind is active at the hour in observa tion, as it truly is. There is not a little reason to believe that Solomon devoted this sacred season, as some have called it, to the study of “the hyssop,” the “cedar,” and other plants and trees ; and that it was his morning studies that enabled him to become a teacher of all the kings of tho then known world. 4. It is good for the feelings and affections to rise early. —See the peasants of Switzer land, for example, going forth to their la bors—young and old, male and female— at the dawn of day, singing hymns about the rippling stream, tho towering cliffs, the tall forests, scarcely exceeded by the most joyous of the feathered tribes ; and then again, see them playing with their babes in all the tenderness of paternal love. If there are hearts joyous, tender and affectionate to be found in the world, it is among these very peasants of the earth, 5. It is economical to rise early.—Frank lin used to say. “Early to bed, and early to rise, Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” Exercise of the body, whether in rec reation or at labor, is worth a great deal more in the morning than at any other time ofthe day. An early walk is mucrh more agreeable, as well as rrtore useful than a later one. The labor of the farmer and the mechanic is abd more agreeable in tile morning than at any other time, to say nothing of its usefulness. The lesson of the school or of the family is easier stu died, better understood, and more readily retained, than at any other time. Devo tion, too, is more spiritual at this hour than at any other part of the day. 6. It is rational to rise early. —To lie snoring in the morning alter the sun is up, or even after early dawn, not only fenders us like brutes, but like brutes of the most stupid sort —the woodchuck, the boar, the marmot, and the swine. Free ang Easy— As the Queen enter ed Cork, an Irishman shouted, “Arrah ! Victoria; stand up and let’s look at vou.’» Her Majesty arose, when he exclaimed, “God bless you for that, my darlin’t!” Why may we suppose that Charles I. was beheaded with his own consent ? Ans.—He was axed whether he would or no. What flower does a miser resemble ? Ans.—The marry-gold.