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SOUTHERN RECORDER.
jj* G1UNTLAND & OIIME.
MIL.LEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, JUNE 0, 1831.
no. 90 or m. Xtt.
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From Mrs. Alaric IVatis' New Year’s Gift.
LADY LUCY’S PETITION.
AN HISTORICAL FACT.
“And is my dear Papa shut up in this dis
mal place, to which you are taking me 7” ask
ed the little Lady Lucy Pregton, raising her
eyes fearfully to the Tower ol London, as tlte
coach in which she was seated with Amy
Gradwell, her nurse, drove tinder the gateway.
She trembled, and hid her face in Amy’s cloak
when they alighted, and she saw the soldiers
on guard, and the sentinels with their crossed
partisans before the portals of that part of the
fortress where the prisoners of State were
confined, and where her own father, Lord Pres
ton, of whom she was come to take a last
farewell, was imprisoned, under sentence of
death. “ Yes, my dear child.” returned Ainy.
sorrowfully, “my Lord, your father, is indeed
within these sad walls. You ate now going'
to visit him; shall you be afraid of entering
this place, my dear?”
"No,” replied Lady Lucy, resolutely, “1
am not afraid of going to any place where mv
dear papa is.” Yet she clung closer to tlte
arm of her attendant, as they were advancing
within the gloomy precincts of the building,
and her little heart fluttered fearfully as she
glanced, around her: and she whispered to
her nurse—“ was it not here that the young
princes. Edward the Fifth, and his brother
Richard, Duke of York, were murdered by
their cruel uncle, Richard, Duke of Glouces
ter ?"
“ Yes, my love, it was; but do not be alarm
ed on my account; for no one will harm you,”
said Amy, in an encouraging tone. “And
was not good Edward Sixth murdered also,
by the seine wicked Richard 7” continued the
little girl, whose imagination was filled with
the deeds of blood that had been perpetrated
in this-fatallv celebrated place: many of which
had been related to her by Bridget, the house
keeper, since her father had been imprisoned
in the Tower, on the charge of Jiigh treason.
“Rut do you think they will murder papa*
nurse?” pursued the child, as they began to
ascend t)ie stairs leading to the apartment in
which the unfortunate nobleman was confined.
“ Hush ! hush ! dearmiriU. you must not talk
of those things here,” said Amy, “ or they
will shut us both up in a room, with bolts anil
bars, instead of admitting us to see my lord,
your father.”
“Lady Lucy pressed closer to her nurse's-
side and was silent, till they were ushered in-
to the room where her father was; when forget
ting every thing else in the joy of seeing him
again, she sprang into his arms, and almost
stilled him with her kisses. Lord Preston
was greatly affected at the sight of his little
daughter, and overcome by Iter passionate de
monstrations of fondness, and bis own anguish
at the thought of leaving her an orphan at the
tender age of nine years, he clasped her to his
bosom, and bedewed her innocent face with
tears. “Why do you cry, dear papa 7” asked
the little child, who was herself weeping at
the sight of his distress. “ A nil why will you
trot leave this dismal place and come to your
own hall again 7” “ Attend to me, Lucy,
while 1 tell you the cause of my grief,” said
her father, seating the little girl upon bis knee.
■I shall never come home again—for I have
been condemed to die for high treason ; and I
thall not leave this place, till they take me
forth on Tower Ilill, where they will cut off
my head with a sharp axe, and set it lip after
wards over Temple Bar, or London Bridge.”
At this terrible intelligence, La ly Lucy
screamed aloud, and hid her face in her fa
ther’s bosom, which she, wetted with her tears.
•'He composed, my dear child," said Lmd
Preston, “ for l have much to say to you; and
we may neveragain meet in this world. “ No,
un, dear papa! they shall not kill you; for 1
will cling so close about your neck, that they
cannot cut your head ofl';—and I will tell them
all how good and kind you arc ; and then they
will not want to kill you.”
“ My dearest love, all this would he of no
tsc,” said Lord Preston. “ I have offended
gainst the law as it is at present established,
y trying to have my old master King Janies,
eslored to the throne, and therefore I must
Lucy, do you remember that 1 once
>ok you to Whitehall to see King James, and
°w kindly he spoke to you 7”
“Oh, yes, papa—and I recollect lie laid his
and on my head, and said 1 was like what
is daughter, the Princess of Orange, was at
y age,” replied Lady Lucy, with great ani
mation. “ Well, my child, soon after you saw
ing James at Whitehall, the Prince of Or-
nge, who had married his daughter, came o-
er to England, and drove King Jame9 out of
is palace and kingdom ; and the people made
im and jjie Princess of Orange king and
ueen in faif?fetcad !”
“ But was it not very wicked of the Princess
take her father’s kingdom away from him 7
am very sorry King James thought me like
sr,” said Lucy earnestly.
"Hush! hush, my love,—you must not
cak thus of the queen. Perhaps she thought
e was doing right to deprive her father of
s kingdom, because he had embraced the
atholic religion, and it is against the law for
king of England to be a Catholic. Yet 1
nfess I did not think she would consent to
gn the death-warrants of so many of her
tker’s old servants, only on account of their
•fitful attachment to him,” said Lord Pres
“ with a sigh.
‘I have heard that the Princess of Orange
of a merciful disposition,’ said old Amy
fadwell, advancing towards her master, 1 and
maps she might be induced to spare your
*> m y lord, if your pardon were very ear-
«'y entreated of her by some of your friends.
Alas, my good Amy, no one will under
ie the perilous office of pleading for an at*
•oted traitor, lest they should be suspected of
T onng King James.' .
* Dear papa! let me go to the queen, and
beg for your pardon,’ cried Lady Lucy, with
a crimsoned check and a sparkling eye. ‘ I
will so beg and pray her to space your life,
dear father, that she will not have the heart to
deny me.’
“ Dear simple child 7 What could you say
to the queen, that would be of any avail 7”
" God would teach me what to say,” repli
ed Lady Lucy.
Her father clasped her to his bosom—• But,'
said lie, * thou wouldst be afraid of speaking
to the queen, even should you be admitted to
her presence, tuy child.’
1 Why should I be afraid of speaking to her,
papa! Should she he angry with me, and an
swer me harshly, I shall be thinking too much
of you to care about it; and if she sends me to
the Tower, and cutoff my head, God will take
care of my immortal son). 1 You are ririit,
my child, to fear God, and have no other fear,’
said her father. ‘He perhaps has put it into
thy little heart to plead for thy father’s life ;
which if it be his pleasure to grant I shall in
deed feci it a great happiness that my child
should be the instrument of tny deliverance ;
if it should bo otherwise, God’s will he done.
He will not forsake my good and dutiful little
one, when I am laid low in the dust.”
“ But how will my Lady Lucy gain admit
tance to the queen’s presence?” asked old A-
tuy, who had been a weeping spectator of this
interesting scene.
“ I will write a letter to her god mother, the
Lady Clarendon, requesting her to accom
plish the matter.”
He then wrote a fe.w hasty lir.es, which he
gave to his daughter, telling her that she was
to go the next day to Hampton Court, proper
ly attended and to obtain a sight of Lady Cla
rendon. who was there in waiting upon the
queen, and deliver that letter to her with her
own hand. He then kissed his child tender
ly, and hade her farewell.
Though the little girl wept as she parted
from him, yet she left the tower with a far
more quiet mind than she had entered it; for
die had formed her resolution, and her young
leart was full of hope.
The next morning, before the lark had sung
her matins, Lady Lucy was it]), and dressed in
a suit of deep mourning, which Amy had pro
vided as the most suitable garb for a child
whose only parent was under the sentence of
death. As she passed through the hall, lean
ing on her nurse's arm, and attended by her
father's confidential secretary and the old but
ler, all the servants shed tears, and begged of
God that he would bless and prosper her.—-
Lady Lucy was introduced to the Countess
Clarendon’s apartment, before her ladyship
had left her bed; and having told her artless
story with great earnestness, presented her fa
ther’s letter.
Lady Clarendon was very kind to her little
god-daughter; but she told her plainly that
she did not dare to ask her father's life, be
cause her husband wqs already suspected of
holding secret correspondence with his bro
ther-in-law, King James. ‘ Oh,’said Lucy,
‘ if I could only see the queen myself, I would
not wish any one to speak for. mo. I would
plead so earnestly that she could not refuse
ine, 1 am sure?’
‘ Poor child! What could you say to the
queen,’ asked the Countess compassionately.
•God will direct uie what to say,’ replied La
dy Lucy. ‘ Well, my love, thou shall have the
opportunity,’ replied Lady Clarendon, ‘but
much I fear thy little heart will fail when thou
scest the queen face to face.’
Impressed with the piety and filiol tender
ness of her god-daughter, she hastened to rise
and dress that she might conduct her into the
palace gallery, where the queen usually pas
sed an iiour in walking, when she returned
from Chapel. The Countess, while waiting
for the arrival of her majesty, endeavored to
divert the anxious impatience of her little
friend, by pointing out the portraits-to her no
tice, ‘ I know that gentlemen well,’ said Lu
cy, pointing to a noble full-length portrait of
James the Second.
‘That is the portrait of Queen Mary's fa-
'ther; and a striking likeness it is,’ observed
the Countess, sighing ‘ But hark ! Here
comes the queen and her ladies from the cha
pel. Now, Lucy, is the time, I will step into
the recess yonder; but you must remain alone,
standing where you are. When her majesty
approaches, kneel, and present your father’s
petition. She who walks before the ladies is
the queen. Be of good courage.’
Lady Clarendon made a hasty retreat. Lu
cy’s heart heat violently, when she found her
self alone; butlier resolution did not fail her.
She stood with folded hands, pale, but com
posed, and motionless ns a statue, awaiting
the queen’s approach ; and when her majesty
drew nci.r the spot, she advanced a step for
ward, Welt and presented the petition.
The extreme beauty of the child, her deep
mourning, the touching sadness of her look
and manner, and above all the streaming tears
which bedewed her face, excited the queen's
attention and interest. She paused, spoke
kindly to her, and took the offered paper; but
when she saw the name of Lord Preston, her.
color rose, she frowned, cast the petition from
her, and would have passed on : but Lucy,
who had watched her countenance with an
anxiety that almost amounted to agony, los
ing all awe for royalty in her fears for her fa
ther, put forth her hand, and grasping her
rohp, cried in an imploring tone, * Spare my
father! my dear, dear father, royal lady !’
Lucy had mcaut to say many persuasive
things, but in her sore distresses she forgot
them all, and could only repeat “ Save my la
ther, gracious queen !” till her vehement emo
tions choked Iter voice—and throwing her
arms around the queen’s knees, she leaned a-
gaiust her majesty’s person, and sobbed aloud.
The intense sorrow of a child is always pe
culiarly touching ; but the circumstances un
der which Lucy appeared were unusually in
teresting. Queen Mary pitied the distress of
of her young petitioner; but she considered
the death of Lord Treston as a measure of po
litical necessity; she therefore told Lucy mild
ly, but very firmly, that she could not grant
her request.
“ lint lie is good and kind to every one,"
said Lucy raising her blue eyes, which were
swimming in tears, to the face of the queen.
“ He may be so to you, child!” returned her
majesty ; “ but he has broken the laws of Ins
country, and therefore he must die.”
“ But you can pardon him,” replied Lucy,
“ and I have learned that God has said, bles
sed be the merciful, for they shall obtain mer
cy.” “ It does not become a little girl like
you to attempt to instruct me,” replied the
3 ueen, gravely, “ I am acquainted with tny
uty. It is my place to administer justice im
partially ; and it is not possible forme to par-1
don your father, however painful it may be to!
deny so dutiful a child.”
Lucy did not reply—she only raised her I
eyes with an nppealiug look to the queen, and
then turned them expressively on tho portrait
of King James. The queen’s curiosity was 1
excited by the peculiarly emphatic manner ofj
the child; and she could notvefram front ask-,
ing why she gazed so earnestly upon that pie-!
litre. “ I was thinking,” replied Lady Lucy, I
“ how very strange it was, that you should |
wish to kill my father, only because be loved j
yours so faithfully."
This wise and artless reproof, from the lips i
of childish innocence, went to the very heart j
of the queen. She raised her eyes to that I
once dear and honored parent, who, whatever]
had been his political errors, had ever been j
the tenderest of fathers to Iter, and when she
thought of him an exile in a foreign land, re-1
lying upon the bounty of strangers for his ■
daily bread, while she was invested with the I
royal inheritance, of which he had been de-l
prived, tlte. contrast between her conduct as a]
daughter and that of the pious child before
her, smote on Iter heart, and she burst into
tears.
"Rise, dear child,” said she—“I cannot
make thee an orphan. Thou has prevailed;
thy father shall nut die ! thy filial love has sav
ed him !”
FROM THE UNITED SERVICE JOURNAI. FOR AflUI..
liy Captain James Edward Alexander, (late)
tilth Cancers.
SKIRMISH IN THE BALKAN.
A clear harvest moon rose in silvery radi
ance over the rugged cliffs which skirted one
of • lie passes of the far-famed Balkan, and the
scene, though in repose, was one of Rtern
wildness. Gradually as the Queen of Night
mounted in the zenith, the gloom which had
previously obscured the varied features of the
hills was dissipated ; the broad shadows which
were flung across the ravines became narrow
er, and disclosed the broken ground to where
the rills of water were glistening and gurgling
over the enamelled sloncs.
The vegetation was stunted, and it was evi
dent (rom the forms of the low oak trees ami
brushwood that the soil was -scanty, and that
the biting blasts of a Scythian winter prevail
ed here with relentless severity : besides, in
the end of summer, the cold and damp night
air renders these regions peculiarly insalubri
ous, and causes fevers which too frequently
terminate fatally. No flecks were seen lying
in the sheltered nooks, or fires from the shep
herd's cottage, and the distant barking of the
watchful guardian of the fold, which used con
tinually to be heard on the approach of strange
feet was now silent.
The Turks had long before swept away eve
ry living thing that could be of the slightest
use to the invaders, and even the dry grass had
been set fire to, in order to impede as much
as possible their advance, but the Russian
horses, like their riders, wore accustomed to
scanty fare, and chopped furze, with (occasi
otially) barley, supported a sufficient number
for outpost duty. But the patient bullocks,
conveying the provisions and warlike stores,
continually fell under their loads, and great
numbers of them perished miserably. It was
painful to witness on the line of march the
tortures to which they were subjected, when,
worn out with fatigue and hunger, they sunk
down on the flinty road. First a shower of
blows lell on their projecting bones from stick
or thick Tartar whip, accompanied with loud
shouts, and a volley of oaths, from their un
feeling drivers , then the tail was twisted nearly
off; this torture might produce a slight exer
tion on the part of the helpless animal, but a-
gain with a groan it sunk before its persecu
tors, and in tho end. Tiro would he applied, if
it could be conveniently obtained. Many of
the cargascs of the overdriven bullocks, con
spicuous from their white hair, were observed
among the rocks near the mountain paths, and
the ominous croak of the ravens also indicat
ed where they lay.
The nature of the district wc traverse has
always a great influence in raising or depres
sing our spirits. When we first find ourselves
on a widely extended plain we feel animated
with the desire to push onwards, and like the
Arab exulting in the desert, wo “devour the
ground with the glad hoofs of our steed.”—
But when wc see but a short way before us, as
among entangled forests & the winding paths
among the silent hills, we are awe-struck and
melancholy, and though our attention may
be continually arrested by the diversified forms
under which nature may present herself, yet
we pursue dur journey watchful and anxious,
particularly when we expect to sec a lurking
enemy in every thicket, the gleam of arms be
hind every rock, or to hear the sharp music of
the whistling bullet. Thus it was whilst tra
versing the fastnesses of that mighty chain
which extends from the shores of the stormy
Euxine to the waters of the Adriatic.
Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of night !
Out of thy misty eastern cave,
Where all the long uml lone daylight
Thou wovost dreams of joy and fear,
Which nw-s the terrible and dear—
Swift he thy flight!
In a holler; way, several dark masses are
seen moving with regulated step, and the
moon’s rays presently strikes on the spear
heads of a few Cossacks, who in advance of
the others, began to ascend an acclivity; they
move forward cautiously, wrapped in their
long grey cloaks; are earnestly praying for
daylight, and continually looking to the right
and left, "with the beard on the shoulder,” to
detect the ambuscade. From the 'infantry,
flankers have been sent out to scour the brush
wood on the left, and silence reigns over the
march, until the increasing chilrtess of the
air, and the warning light of the Cynthian
goddess announce the approach of dawn.
The mountain path became more rugged,
and huge masses of rock, which had fallen
from the impending heights, seemed to bar
further progress. When two of the Cossacks
in advance had neared a group of these, they
descended below them in order to round them
at a safe distance, but they had only time to
get a short way down the steep doscent, and
(heir horses were slipping tinder them a-
mongst the loosest stones, when several white
turbans were seen amongst the rocks, tophaiks
were levelled, and half a dozen shots took ef
fect on one of the troopers, and sent him and
his steed rolling to the bottom of the preci
pice, the survivor wheeled round and scram
bled back to his companions, who also went to
the right about, and shooting, galloped in a
confused mass to the head of tiie column of
infantry.
A halt was now ordered, and all the flankers
and stragglers fell in. The men spoke in low
anxious whispers to one another, crossed
themselves, repeating at the samo time the
Guspodccn t'ameel, “The Lord have mercy
upon ns,” then fixed the skirts of their great
coats rourrtl their waists, and drawing their
ramrods, ascertained that the cartridge was
“home.” The commandant dismounted, mid
went iriortg the column to observe that every
one was in his place, and giving a few direc
tions to the officers, which were answered by
the Slousltaiou, “1 hear y ou,” he returned to
the head of the column.
From the chambers of the East, the light
was now sulliciuutly strong to enable the com
mandant to sec the nature of the obstacles in
front; and accordingly, a party was scot up
the face of the hill to take the enemy in flank,
whilst the main body resumed its march to
attack in front. When the party on tlte liill
gut above the rocks from .which the shots had
proceeded, they immediately opened their lire
upon them, which was answered by a volley
and shouts of “Ullan !” Several of the Rus
sians fell, and rolled down groaning (o the
road, and a few Turks dashed out and finish
ed them with their atagans; whilst the rest
stoutly maintained themselves behind their
natural breastwork, until the head of the Rus
sian column also attacked them in trout, when
they hastily quitted their post, and holding up
their petticoat trowsers with one hand, and
their arms in other, they ran upthehill, whilst
a body of Delhis, or cavalry, retreated along
tho road.
A Kaia, or leader of the Turkish infantry,
followed in the rear of his men, distinguished
by his imposing turban and richly embroi
dered scarlet jacket, one of the under officers
of the Russians took deliberate aim at him, and
brought him down with a hall through his thigh,
and then ran at hint with ids bayonet; theuntbr-
tunate Osmanlec was lying on the ground on
his back, and, grasping the weapon aimed at his
breast, he pushed it from him ; the under offi
cer tried in vain to accomplish his purpose,
and they were in this situation when a subal
tern came up, who knowing that if tho Turk
was not bayoneted by the tinder officer, lie
would be thrust at by others who were ra
pidly coming up, (for they were unable to
make prisoners, Laving no means of securing
them,) lie turned to a Roldicr, and to put the
Kaia out of pain, he ordered him to be shot.
A musket was accordingly put to his side, and
the soul of the true believer winged its way
to the abode of the Houris.
The Turks bad now altogether disappeared
and the march was continued uninterruptedly
till the country became ntoreope», ami a scat
tered Bulgarian village was seen in the midst
of a small plain. It was necessary to recon
noitre this, to ascertain if any of the enemy
bad taken post in it ami the Cossacks were a-
gain ordered to the front: they accordingly-
pricked on their long tailed and shaggy gallo
ways, & approached the village ; the infantry
followed, on whose right there was still a good
deal of broken ground. Suddenly, amongst
the ravines, appeared the high cylindrical black
caps of the Delhis, and before the Russians
bad time to complete their square, a cloud of
horsemen was upon them. With reckless and
headlong impetuosity, the Turks dashed over
the rugged surface, clearing with case what
seemed impracticable obstacles. It was a gal
lant sight, and one of high excitement. The
Russians were in confusion, while on came
the Delhis, in their loose and warlike costume;
seated high in their peaked saddles, and goad
ing on their willing steeds with the angle of
their shovel stirrups, and brandishing aloft ibmV
scimctar.-?. Their Agn was momnaion a milk
white charger, and loudly encouraged his fol
lowers to exterminate the GiaoufS, and scud
them to Ebbs: they drove at full speed close
to the Russians, then suddenly pulled up, and
the most forward of them curvetting and long
ing their horses, discharged their pistols; then
wheeled round to attack the rear of the infant
ry, and succeeded in sahreying a few; but by
this time the Russian files had closed up, and
a volley from die third rank caused some of
the Delhis to bite the dust, and the rest took
themselves off as rapidly as they had advanced
At the commencement of the attack of the
Delhis, the Cossacks had galloped back to the
left flank of the infantry, and after the Turks
had disappeared, set to work ns usual to plun
tier the killed and wounded. The girdles were
unrolled, and the piastress greedily clutched,
whilst n blow from the butt-end of a pistol
would silence all resistance, till the spoils
were safely deposited in one of tlte wallets
which depended from the Cossack saddle;
and though the infantry had bore the brunt of
the skirmish, their mounted brethren carried
off all the booty.
The column now hastily advanced upon the
village, near which by the way side a clear
fountain gushed from double pipes into a
stone trough. The Cossacks with their usu
al cunning stopped here to water, whilst-the
infantry attained the low gate wav, behind
which a few trees rose : scarcely had the head
of the column got within the gate, when a
sharp fire w as opened upon it, from the veran
dahs of two or three houses, which staggered
the Russians, but the fire was returned, and
through the trees several wounded Turks were
observed loaning on their tophaiks and extend
ed on the ground under a low stone wall; pre
scntly, the discharges of the Turks slackened,
and a few dropping shots only were given, and
tiicn entirely ceased ; the village was evacu
ated and the Russians established themselves
in it.
The Cossacks again had the best of it; for
unrivalled as marauders, they were not long in
ferreting out concealed grain and even fowls,
by imitating the crowing of cocks, they regal
ed themselves sumptuously, whilst the infant
ry were necessitated to content themselves
with their black bread and salt. In attempt
ing to draw water from the well in the centre
of the village, the bucket, after striking on a
soft substance on the bottom, came up empty,
and on lowering a lighted stick to ascertain
the cause of this, a dead body was seen float
ing in the water, which had been dropped in
by the retreating enemy, and caused the Rus
sians to look elsewhere for the means of alle
viating their thirst.
Until the detachment was joined by a divi
sion of the army, it occupied the village, the
cottages of which were constructed of wattles,
the basket-work plastered with mud, and the
roof thatched with straw; each house was sur
rounded with a wicker enclosure, so that by
cutting down trees and placing them with the
branches pointed outward to form abbatis be.
tween the intervals of the houses, and barrica.
ding the approaches with overturned arabas o r
wagons, the Turks were prevented from at
tempting to dislodge their opponent”
During tho late contest in the Turkish ter
ritory, there were many affairs similar to the
above; and until the Balkan had been fairly
passed by the road skirting the Black Sea, the
Turks valiantly disputed their ground with
tho invaders. Though the Tacticocs or dis
ciplined troops laboured under great disadvan
tages, having neither a staff to direct them, a
commissariat to maintain them, nor field hos
pitals, yet (bey frequently made a gallant
stand and fired witli considerable precision of
aim. The greater number of the Tacticocs
were mere boys, from Asia-Minor, and if the
Sultan had ouly given them a smarter uniform,
the service would have been more popular
than it was. The Turks are vnin of their per
sons, and certainly display great taste in their
dress, which consisting of embroidered jack
et and vests, ample trousers and silken turban
surrounding a red fez or scul-cap, makes a
handsome picture. It is not to be supposed
then, that they would relish being stripped of
their embroidery anil picturesque head gear,
and reduced to a plain blue or brown jacket &
simple fez, which last caused the Tacticocs
to look as if they had just been loused out of
sleep, and were walking about ill their night
caps. The irregulars were allowed to dress
as they liked best, and were in a better humor
in consequence. For all old soldiers know
the importance tiiat aspirants attach to uni
form, and a wise leader will be careful to se-
jet one which is generally relished.
—-•oooo:—
MR. JEFFERSON.
We extract the following from a literary
journal published at Charlottesville, and edit-
d by a number of young gentlemen, students
of the University of Va. Perhaps no more
appropriate subject could be selected than one
referring to tho father nnd founder of that
flourishing institution, and the benefactor of
his country and the world.—U. S. Til.
We find the following compliment paid to
Mr. Jefferson in the Foreign Review of Janu
ary last. We disagree with the writer in the
first of his exceptions to the excellence of his
correspondence, and would suggest that Mr.
J. probably had reasons for his prejudices with
which tlte writer in the Foreign Review could
not possibly bo acquainted. His was not the
mind to take up rash ungrounded prejudices.
His opinions were formed after mature delibe
ration and by the action of his own sound judg
ment ; and when once formed he acted up to
them as the reviewer acknowledges.
“Jefferson's Memoirs autl Corresu c ““ lc,lcc
form otic of the most important and autheu-
tiv, worKH on American affairs ever presented
to the public ; they arc especially valuable for
the insight which they give us into the cha
racter and views of the American Government.
Whoever expects to meet in them eloquent
passages, finely turned sentences, or deep e-
rudition, will be wofully disappointed. Near
ly all his letters bear remarks of being writ
ten currente calamo, and have never since je-
ccivcd any polish or correction from his hand.
The writer was above all subterfuge or chica
nery, he always went directly to tile point he
had in view,'—he ^-as one of that rare class of
statesmen, who speak ns they think, and act ns
they speak. Some prejudices, it is true, to
tally unworthy of his liberal mind, defile ma
ny pages of these memoirs. His detestation
of federalism was only equalled by his hatred
of England. Federal, be declnres is synony
mous with lie. “Nothing like honor or mo
rality,” lie says, “can ever bo counted on in
transactions with England,” mid he accuses
ns ol playing the hypocrite to Spain, on tlie
occasion of its invasion by Louis XVIII; a
charge which, it is almost needless to say, is
wholly false. These, however, are blemishes of
a trivial cast, compared with the valuable infor
mation which his volumes afford; wherever he
relates a fact from his own knowledge, wc can
place implicit confidence in his testimony, and
his work may be safely referred to as a record of
facts of the most unquestionable authority.”
—reboot—
A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE.
My acquaintance with Mr. Windham, [the
Right lion. Wm. Windham] led to a train of
circumstances, which, taken together, form one
of the most siugular series of adventures that
ever occurred in real life, and resemble more a
fictitious romance than an authentic history.—
At a late hour one evening, I received a"few
lilies from my friend Dr. Adam Smith, (the
particular time I do not recollect,) requesting
my company at dinner next day, to meet the
celebrated Edmund Burke, and Mr. Wind
ham, who had arrived at Edinburgh, with an
intention of making a short tour through the
Highlands. The Doctor apologized for the
shortness of the notice, stating that the travel
lers had arrived only that morning, and propo
sed remaining but one day in Edinburgh, I
went accordingly, and passed sotno hours as
might be expected in the company of such
men, in the most gratifying manner. I gave
them my advice as to the plan they ought to
adopt in making their intended tour ; and, in
particular, dwelt on the beauty of the road be
tween Duukcld and Blair; adding, that in
stead of being cooped up in a post chaise,
they had better get out and walk through the
delightful woods and beautiful scenes they
would pass through, and more especially some
miles beyond Dunkeld. I had almost forgot
ten these circumstances, when, about three
years after, Mr. Windham, very unexpectedly,
came to me in the House of Commons, and
requested to speak to me for a few momeuts
behind the Speaker’s chair. “Do you recol
lect,” said lie, our meeting together at Adam
Smith's at dinner 7” “Most certainly I do.”
•Do you remember having given us directions
for our highland tour, and more especially to
stroll through the woods between Dunkeld
and Blair 7" “I do.” He then added, “An e-
vent took place in consequence of our adopt
ing that advice, of which 1 must now inform
you. Burke and I were strolling through the
woods, about ten miles from Dunkeld, when
wc saw a young female sitting under a tree
reading. Burke immediately exclaimed, ‘let
us have a little conversation with this solitary
damsel, and see what she is ab«ut.’ We ac
costed her accordingly, and found that she
wag reading a recent novel from the London
I’ress. We asked her how she came to read
novels 7 How she got books at so great a dis
tance from the metropolis; nnd more especial
ly one so recently published 7 Site answered
that she had been educated at a boarding-
school at I’erlh, where novels might be had
from the circulating library, and that she still
procured them through the same channel. We
carried on the conversation for some time, in
the course of which she displayed a great
deal of smartness and talent; and at last wc
were obliged very rcl'i 'tantly, to leavo her,
and proceed on our journey. Wei
found that she was the daughter of ■( __
tor of that neighborhood, who wee knows un
der the name of ‘The Baron Madura.” "i
have never been able," continued llr. Wind
ham, “to get the beautiful movntri* nymph
out of tuy head, and I with yon to madia
whether she is married or single.” Bn begjnd
me to clear up this point at toon at footirntt, t»
much of his future happiness depended upon
the result of the inquiry. I lost no time in
attending to his request, and applied fiat infor
mation to a most respectable clergyman da Ike
neighborhood where Miss Maclarcn lived, (the
Rev. Dr. Stewart, minister of Monlin) who
informed me, in course of post, that she whs
married to a medical gentleman, of the name
of Dick, who had gone to the East Indies.-—
Upon communicating this to Mr Windham,
he seemed very mucli agitated. He was Soon
afterwards married to the daughter of tv ball-
pay officer. I have no doubt, however, that
had Miss Maclarcn continued single, he would
have paid Iter his addresses.—Correspondence
and Reminiscentes of the Right Hon. Sir John
Sinclair, Rart.
—;ooo oe:—
A GOLDEN SPECULATION.
About cightecu or twenty months xao Jfff.
William R. Heywood, and Francis L. Royal,
purchased a tract of land in Pittsylvania, Va.
from a ntau in moderate circumstances, fot
which they gave a small amount, compared
with its present value. In the tract was em
braced a gold mine, which on exploring has
been found to be very rich. A letter writer in
the Pittsburgh Intelligencer, says that the ce
lebrated Chevalier ag^eut for the London Hie
ing Company has 6'een to see it, and after se
veral days examination, pronounced it as his *
opinion, to be one of the richest mineg in tim
world and in behalf of the company for whitm
he is agent, has offered the proprietors
000 for the interest of one half, oY ££73,000
for the whole of it. It is thought that the
proposition will he accepted on the part of tfap
owners, and a trade will be concluded.
I Balt. Gaz.
—rnooobo:—
THE LATE CENSUS.
We are indebted to the Harrisburg Intelli
gencer for the following table of the Censue of
1830, compiled from the official returns of the
Marshals, except the State of Mississippi. (»ho
population of which is »»tuumea Iroin the
newspapers.)
EASTERN STATES.
182(7 1830 Increase.
Maine, 298.335 399,452 101.197
New-Hampsldre, 24-1,161 209,533 23,372
Vermont, 235,764 280,666 44,901
Massachusetts, 523,287 610,100 66,813
Connecticut, 275,248 397,711 pQ.,433
Rhode Island, 83,069 97,211 14,182
1,059,854 1,954,682
MIDDLE STATES.
297.838
1820
New-York, 1,372,812
New-Jersey, 277,575
Pennsylvania, 1,040,458
Delaware, 72,749
Maryland, 407,350
3,179,944 4,108,959
SOUTHERN STATES.
1820 1830
1,065,366 1,186,297
638,829
Virginia,
N. Carolina]
S. Carolina, , 502,741
Georgia, . 340,989
Ohio,
Kentucky
Indiana,’
Illinois,
Missouri,
2,517,925 3,022jB12
WESTERN STATES.
,414,726 2,263.107 848,361
1620
1830
Tennessee,
422,813
684.322
Louisiana,
153 407
216,275
Alalmrnn,
127,901
309,213
Mississippi,
75,448
95,865
779,569
1,307.475
TERRITORIES.
1820
1330
Dis. of Columbia,
33,039
39,858
Michigan,
8,896
31,595
Arkansas,
14,246
30,380
Florida, not taken,
—
34,725
56,161
136,611
627,909
6,818
1820
1830 Increase.
Eastern States, 1,659,854 1,954,689 294,828
Middle Slates, 3,197,944 4,108,959 929,015
Southern States, 2,547,925 3,022,819 474,887
Western States, 1,414,726 2,263,107 34&301
S. W. State.-,, 779,509 1,307,478 627,909
Territories, 56,181 136,611 60,340
6,637,199 12,793.649 3,155,450
The same paper has made the subjoined state
ment, show ing the political influence of each State
in the national councils, according to the new
census, if, as is conjectured will be the case, the
ratio of representation should be fixed by Con
gress at 59,000. “ Five slaves having tk» tame
weight as three free men, the repraentath* num
bers aie given opposite to each State :”
Ratio Unrepre-
States. Representative 50,000 tented
tiumbers. Sen. Sr Rev. frattione.
399,462 9
269,523
280,665
610,100
297,688
97,2(15
1,933,495
619,881
75,417
Maine,
N. Hampshire,
Vermont,
Massach irarits,
Connecticut
Rhode Island
New-Vork,
Nctv-Jerscy,
Delaware,
Pennsylvuuia, 1,329,846
Maryland, 305,771
Virginia, about 976,000
North-Caroiina, 639,885
South-Carotinn, 455,212
Georgia
Ohio,
Kentucky,
Indiana,
Illinois,
Missouri,
Tennessee,
Louisiana,
429.589
837.678
622,707
341.589
157,277
127,492
623.070
171,729
Mississippi, about 85,090
Alubama, 202,210
7
7
14
7
3
41
8
3
28
8
21
14
II
10
18
14
8
6
4
14
6
3
7
49,462
19,633
30,665
10,100
47.688
47,205
33,495
19,881
95,417
9*846
6,771
26,000
39,885
6,212
29.689
ss?
41,582
7.977,
S7,49»
23,970
Si ,782
35.090
12,210
sea •>’
It will bo seen that iftlie ratio of representation
be fixed at 50,000, Ilia inereaxe in the numW of
members of the House of Kep.-^anutivest «SkU
only seven. Tho same number will at r— 33 ‘
added to the Electors of President and ]„
sident. The Eastern and Middle Statm '
tain about tho same strength that they at I
possess ; the Southern will lose somewbalTo
the Western and South-western will aaqairu i
or nearly all, the additional numbers.—1
Firgir.ian.