Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XXVI.]
... ( ;:ilEVE Sc 08ME,
U >
e ;,itors and proprietors.
il
3Al ! ' ^leol' personal property must be given
;.*» f jr tSe ” j. y . nA y- previous to the dtiy of sale.
ian ne j- f ° 0r5 .-reditors of an estate must also
■' : ;l koKI-y days.
1 nliration Will be made to the Court
iw th f^feave to sell Land or Negroes, must be
‘““fLrOUR MONTHS
:T.tt ION
f ,r betters of Administration,maust be pub-
,,S5 : j' r ^lf7r dismission from administration
for dismission from Guardianship,
l'o the Planters or Georgia.
i-.-rihers h ive established a shop in Mor
, county, ten miles fioiri Madison,and fifteen
ifeiicello." where they are prepared to do an
hi.me.s in tlie manufacture of
COTTON GINS,
, i.-rior quality. Having a firs! rate 3et of
V, driven bv Water Power, and having the
tcurkmen, and using none hut the best pnd
li ■> miteiials, they feel confident in saying
' r Giss will be superior to any others made in
ri.l vijiial to any in the United States, and
, iv it inducements to purchasers as any other
’. , r t j„ Georgia. The Gins will be delivered
iir.rr in alfcases, fiee of charge for trans-
and warranted to perform well in every re-
All letters addressed to us at Madison. Mor-
,tv Georgia, " ill he promptly attended to.
KefAtaisc done in the besC manner > and at
WINSH1P. KING & JOHNSON.
M Co., G u. May 27. 1845 20 12m*
ruinire and House Carpentering.
jBERT D. HALL, (successor of W. Lord,)
his constantly or. hand, makes to order, and re
al kinds of Furniture.
kinds of House Carpentering done in the
Dinner, and low.
\ Kinds of Paints can be had ready for use,
icul to any size and Glazing done.
in, Glass for Picture frames, See., of various si-
Hsrdware Trimmings for furniture, &c., and
mmv and Black Walnut Draw Nobs, &c.
>'Ladies will please call at Mr. Newell’s Store,
-they will be conducted into the Shop and can
. June 10, 1345
tf
DDOSIUS B. DAVIES,
attorney at law,
Milledgeville, Ga.
25 6 m
184
JELAMOTTA SHEFTALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
s'ILL practice in the several Courts of the
Middle and Southern Circuits of Georgia.
.. ; less entrusted to his care will be promptly at-
Lito. Oirice at Reidsville, Tattnall county. Ga
1345 * 2m
[aSJIURST & OSOMLATARI,
•Morale* at Earc,
Eatontox, Ga.
riclice in all the Counties of the Ocmulgce
Circuit.
13.1845 14 tf
WILLIAM F. BROOKS.
.irTOS.TU f cl T #../ II*,
TALBOTTON, GA.
.practice in the counties of theOhattahoo-
3 tf
CHARLES S. HAWLEY,
•Mornetj at Ea*r,
i’-lWRlNSVILLE, Pulaski County, Ga.
L S. MITCHELL,
|' T T 0 R N E Y A T L A W ,
STARKEVILLE, Lee County, Ga.
.12. 1S45
10 tf
GEO. W. FISH,
11 26t
MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JULY S, 1845.
TERMS
ofCORDER is published weekly, in the Ma-
Family Boarding School,
1ltKK Dollars, per annum, payable in
‘ B dollars, if not paid before the end
r i per. in any case, sent out of the State,
v rVst'paid for IN ADVANCE; or any new
'.. for a less period than ONE YEAR, unless
'rate "f Four Dollars per annum in
\T5 conspicuously inserted at the usual
' J nl without a specification of the number
• e ,v ' be published until ordered out, and
• -ordingLy-
, an q yjerrroes, by Administrators. Exe
rt : J' 3 viins are required by law to be held on
• ' J:1 in the month,between the hours of ten
11 - . -i /-v .
«»v m* - , -
‘ * n j t [ iree in the afternoon, at the Court
three iiLtrr — —
tv i n wmch the property is situate.
roantv ,u "— — r • » ..
, splits must be given in a public gazette
: "\.; JUS to the day of sale.
' , . e n f Mortgage must be publi^ed
, .. . ,rec ‘°® __f or establishing lost papers, for
r f°' ir ^ L _ onths _{ OT compelling titles from
pApaceof three w l,ere r a bond has been
•■» °Veeased. the full space of three months.
L? tne . ’, v ivs be continued according to
ctiions wit U nless otherwise ordered.
\ \e<ral renuire.ut
3 • Veline of Printing, will meet with
" eS3 '".'-he recorder Office.
ot attention at tn« -
on business must he post paid.
TTK ° ■■ requesting the direction of
’ Gar subsen > ^ ^ ong p 0!!t office to another, are
pipersc’iangei j n m aking such requests, to
ed, in ever fJ^ e name of the PostOlfice/rom which
'V' S eh*Langed"asthat to which they may thete-
« ih it sent.
, ne w Post Otfice Law, which goes into
' ; ^ ffip i,t of July, Newspapers can be sent
■ • iniles free of postage.
BY THE REV. CARLISLE P. IS. MARTIN.
7TMH1S School is conducted at the residence of the
-L 1’receptor, a healthful and pleasant location, in
the vicinity o' Madison, Morgan county, Georgia, and
the number of pupils received is limited to twenty.—
The subjects taught are tiie Ancient Classics, Mathe
matics. the S -iences, Elocution, Penmanship and Com
position, and in these the utmost thoroughness of
instruction is laboriously sought. The greatest care
is exercised over the morals of the pupils; and the
government of the School, while firm and decided, is
mild and paternal. Parents arid guardians desiring
their sons or wards WELL EDUCATED, and at the same
time their morals preserved from the dangers of a
large and promiscuous company of youth, will do well
to secure a place for them in this School. It is thought
need leas to speak of the superior advantages atforded
by Schools of this character—they are readily suggest
ed to every reflecting mind.
In connection with the usual 'Indies, (as soon as
practtcat le,) lectures on Agricultural Chemistry
will be delivered before the students, and the princi
pies of Chemistry as connected with the noble and im
portant subject of Agriculture, illustrated by experi
ment and analysis.
The expenses per scholar are, $150 the scholastic
year, or $80 per term. This includes tuition, board,
fuel, room and washing, (lights not furnished.)
I lie second term of the present year commences the
first day of July.
N. B. Day-Scholars received as before, at Twenty-
five dollars per term, in advance.
July 1,1845 25 3t
GREAT BARGAINS!
. flitr carte mire Stock of fancy A’ Staple ttry
I Goods, ode reel at greatly reduced prices.
j nriSHING to reduce our Stock as much as pos-
| v * sible the next two months, those in want of
Go*ids will find it to their advantage to give us a call.
| Homespuns,
4-4 do
| and 5-4 Bleached,
Prints,
4-4 French Prints,
Balzarine Muslins,
Scotch Ginghams,
4 cents per yard.
8
7 to 12£
8 to 124
1G
25
20
Just Received
Rich Polka Muslins.
Balzarine Muslins.
French do
Plain Swiss Muslins.
Stripe do do
E. W. BANCROFT.
Milledgeville, April29, 1845
16 tf
Hazard, Denslow & Webster,
Savannah, Ga.
(near the city HOTEL )
D EALERS in Paints, Oils, Varnishes, Brushes,
Window Glass, Window Sashes, Paper, Paper
Hangings, Ink, Gun Powder, Shot, Bar Lead and
Agricultural Implements.
Amongst their assortment of Agricultural Im
plements, mav be found the following articles, v:z:
Yankee CAst Iron Ploughs, Nos. 10, 11. 12&20.
Connecticut Wrought Iron Ploughs, Nos. 1,2,
and 3.
Allen Pattern cast iron plough.
Ruggles, Nourse & Mason’s improved ploughs, viz:
MISCELLANEOUS.
Ea«le
Plough
,(heavy 2
horse or ox plougl
>-)
2 B
do
(medium 2 horse
do
)
A 3
do
( do
2 do
do
)
A 2
do
(single
2 do
do
)
\ 1 PI
DUgh v (lig
ht, 1 mu!
e or garden
do
)
6 inch
do (do
1 mule or
turning
do
)
7 do
do (do
J horse
do
do
)
Sew p;
ittern plo
ugh, f >r H
g'ht soil.
Sub-soil plough,
(for 4 oxen.)
do
do
No. 1, (fu
•r 2 horses.)
Circuit. All business confided to him
i ihe most prompt attention.
1S44
references.
■ itKscHELi. V. Johnson, Milledgeville. Ga.
CasletoN B. Cole, Judge of the Superior
■ .them. Circuit, Midway, Ga.
. i. u;4.l 45 12m
do do No. 0, (for 1 do
A 1 Side Hill or Swivel, (for 2 horses.)
No. 0, do do or do (for 1 do )
Cotton Trenching Plough.
Double Mould Board do
Cultivator Plough, or Horse Hoe.
Trace, ox chains and log chains.
Hoes.
t Brades’ Patent, Nos. 0, 1, 2, 3 and 4.
i W. A. Lyndon’s Carolina Heavy, Nos. 1, 2 and 3.
j Lyndon’s New Ground, Nos. PP and PPP crown,
j Lyndon’s Round and Oval eye grubbing Hoe, Nos. 2
) and 3.
1 Lyndon’s Anchor Hoes, Nos. 00, 0. 1 and 2.
i Collins & Co’s. Axes,
t Various other kinds do
I Shovels and Spades,
i Socket Spades,
j Improved Cultivators.
Do Corn Shelters.
Do Corn and Cob Mills;
Do Straw Cutters.
Common do do
Fan Mills 9 sizes.
Patent Churns.
Ox \’okp3.
Grain Cradles, Scythes,
do Snaiths.
Hay and Manure Forks
Garden Implements.
Mould Boards, Points and Heels for the different
kinds of ploughs; plough irons and stocks separate, in
which manner much saving can be made in iranspor
tatiun.
A variety of implements not mentioned.
Believing that an agricultural establishment is much
wanted in this State, the subscribers will spare no
pains to keep a general assortment of implements, and
will use their exertions to procure every improvement
in the Plough, and other implements adapted to this
State, and trust they may teceive a liberal shute of
public patronage.
Orders thankfully received and promptly attended to.
February 4, 1845 4 12m
LOOK AT THIS!
.ttroK.rf i* .ay l.jair,
Milledgeville, Ga.
*J, practice in the courts of the counties of
2..twin, Wilkinson, Twiggs, Pulaski, Lau-
& Washington.
’roiessionul business entrusted to him shall be
it.) with promptness and fidelity.
Ijevtlle. March 25, 18 15.
rsmiE subscriber, desirous of selling Lot of Land
S No. 137, in the 15th district Lowndes county,
would respectfully invite the attention of persons wish
ing to settle in that region of country, to examine the
land for themselves, believing they can’t help being
pleased with it. It contains 490 acres, at least 350
of which is excellent farming land, and there is at
least 100 acres of it well adapted to the raising of the
Spanish Tobacco. It lays near the Florida line. I
would refer persons wishing to examine the land to
Mr. John McIntyre, near the premises. My address
is Chattahoochee, Florida.
JOHN WHITE.
June 17, 1845 4t
SPRING GOODS.
Just received and now opening',
THE RICHEST STOCK OF
J. LAW,
.lTTOBJI'fX’ t.f II',
-UXBRIDGE, Decatur County. Ga.
kL attend punctually the Superior Courts of
" counties of Early, Baker and Decatur, of
•western, arid of the county of Thomas of the
hr Circuit.
6, 1845 17 tf
Fancy and Staple Dry Goods,
E ter before offered in this market.
tsioysas c. nisbet,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Savannah; Ga-
references.
Ysbet, E-q. )
. n _ , .. 1 > Macon.
1 ut it XtstlEI, S
'17,1845
23 12m
r BANCROFT’S.
assortment o f Springand Sum*
Goods for gentlemen’s wear.
'" " Green and Brown Broadcloths.
Blue Cassameres,
do.
; Plain Linens, 25 a 37£ cents.
a ; ig. (new article,)
• ir -i'ti Drill,
' (for hoys—superior article,)
5 ar -d Plaid Gambroons,
HtUs—Ready made Shirts—Collars—
~‘ a '-etit do—Shams—Stocks, &c. &c„
A LSO,
j, A new Supply of
i.? e ady Made Cloth in;
|
‘--q.,as usual, occupies the rooms over
’-wi'eClothes are made in Idlest style, and
’lo fit. J
• of *1
tie ,i |
t! Bl
5 ed-|
Iff;"
gilt ’
March 18, 1845.
|HATS ! H ATS ! !
10 tf
li palm leaf hats, 12^1025cts.
Hanamu Hats.
Ill p^hionable Beaver Hats.
| 0 p’" ,J i r ‘d Crown,
345-
C-»
to6«°|
* >s '' J cents each.
rEeviUe.
April 15, 1345
W. BANCROFT.
' 14 tf
C OBALT1NES—new for Spring Dresses.
Lace stripe Muslins.
Rich Balzarines.
Plaid do
Rich Muslins and C ambries.
Muslin Ginghams.
Plaid do
Organdi Muslins.
Plaid Lawns—new article.
3 000 yards light and dark Prints, worth 25 cents, at
’ 124 cts.
2.000 “ rich American & English Prints, 18J a 25.
I 5 000 “ Bleached and Brown Homespuns.5 a 10.
j 2,000 “ Jac. Muslins aud Cambrics, 25 a 374 cts.
l'oOO “ Check Cambrics.
| Swiss and Book Muslins. ,
t Irish Linens.
I Table do
Linen Sheetings.
Tickings and Checks, &c. &c. &e.
Gloves.
Ladies’ Black and Col’d Kid Gloves.
d„ do do Net do
do do do do Mitts-
do Black and White Long Gloves and Mitts.
Gent's Black and Col’d Kid Gloves,
do do and white Silk Gloves.
Paper Mannings.
500 Rolls Paper Hanging, at I_8|
300 “ u at 25 a 374
100 Rolls rich Satin Hanging, 374 a 50 -
50 Rolls Bordering.
Carpetings and Rugs.
3 ply Carpeting.
French “
Tngrain “
Cotton “ 25 cts.
Tufted Rugs,
Patent do
French do., 2 25 a 3 50
'Ve are now offering the largest stock of goods, and
at lower prices than can be found iu the interior of
Georgia.
Weinviteour friends and customers to call and ex
amine, being cerLain that both the style and prices will
please them. E. W. BANCROFT,
Next door to the Post Office.
Milledgeville, March 18, 1845. 10 tf
From the French of Auguste de la Croix.
A Debt of Uonor.
It was in the month of July, 1S3S, that
several young men were joyously hieak-
fastiug in one of the ground floor parlurs of
the Cafe Anglais. Judging by the lateness
of the hour (the clock of the establishment
marked halt past two) and the quantity of
uncorked bottles ranged at one end of the
table, the engagement had been a long and
warm one.
1 he hero of the fete set the example,
and paid liberally by his good company
what he would not trouble himself by set
tling with other means.
He was about twenty-five : a delicate
black mustache, slightly curled up at the
ends, served to impress upon his pale but
animated face that expression of rather ag
gressive resolution which sits not illy upon
an ojficier de core. The guests, five in num
ber, were all officers of the same rank in
the same regiment, but of different ages,
ihe object of the meeting was the welting,
as it is termed, the n?w epaulelts of the
Amphytriou just promoted to the grade of
Captain, after a recent expedition in Al
giers.
Charles de Montilly (the name is a ficti
tious one, and is the only alteration that
the truth of the story will undergo) was
one of those lucky officers whom the con
quest of Algiers has alone benefitted, by re
vealing wot th and corn age which mightoth-
envise have remained forever hid. Good,
obliging, devoted, and loyal, he was belov
ed by bis comtades and esteemed by his
superiors. Some affairs of honor, in which
he had shown as much intrepidity as genei-
osity, had won him a position in his regi
ment which all young soldiers are so eager
to obtain. Active, industrious and intelli
gent, full of hope, and with a little ambi
tion—only one fault, but for a soldier a
capital one, tarnished this excellent dispo
sition. Chailes was not exactly a bully
but a swaggerer, a failing which is not, as
some suppose, incompatible with true cour
age, but often accompanies it in extreme
youth. This swaggering, at times, easily
degenerated into a sarcastic, and often in
to a quarrelsome spirit—an instant after
the conviction of his error would stifle the
vanity which caused it. Detesting in his
heart his unfortunate failing, he would vvil-
ingly have excused himself to those he had
offended, if the delicacy of military honor
had allowed him to offer such a reparation.
You had but to know his really good qual
ities to have pardoned the asperity of his
temper.
The noisy gaiety of the party, the witty
speeches, the apt and often burlesque re
partees, for some time amused the few
persons whom chance had brought to the
same room. It was at a moment when
conversation becomes so light, frivolous,
and loose, that it might be compared to the
thin clothing of a danseuse, that Charles
de Montilly became suddenly quiet and
ceased to take part in the hilarity of his
companions—with an elbow on the table,
and one hand in his chair, he commenced
piling symetrically (as we see cannon halls)
a quantity of English cherries which re
mained on his plate.
‘What the devil are you doing there,’—
asked one of his friends, surprised at Mon-
tilly’s silence.
The latter, without replying, quietly con
tinued the geometrical arrangement of the
red globes.
‘ What are you at with that formidable
preparation V said another voice. Are
you going to give us the taking of Constan
tine.’
The only answer Charles made rvas to
turn his eyes slowly towards one corner of
the room. On looking in the same dilec
tion, his companions perceived a large, full
fa£ed, dark complexioned man ; his ex-
1 pression was cold and severe—in front of
him was a bottle of faro ; he appeared to
be at least sixty, and was large and strong
and tall in statue. He was carelessly lean
ing cn the table, and holding Ins enor-
I mous head surmounted by a resplendent
, red wig, in his two hands. The immobility
| of his position, and the expression of his
; face from the middle of which two large
' round eyes weie staiittg, formed a singu
lar contrast to the boisterous young bloods
whom he was silently observing. He re
minded one of a pacific bull-dog watching
a troop of noisy school-boys.
At the sight of this odd-looking per
sonage, a loud laugh butst from every
mouth.
Charles de Montilly and the stranger re
mained staring at each other with a cold
inquisitorial look, as if trying to divine
what secret thought was passing through
tneit minds. The officer was the first to
lose patience.
‘Pat bleu!’ cried he, ‘I’ll see ^f I cant low
er that toad-look which is trying to fasci
nate me.’
As be spoke, he placed a cherry pit be
tween his fore finger and thumb, raised his
right hand even with his eye, while the oth
er arm, placed perpendicular upon the ta
ble, served as a rest, and insured the true
ness of the shot.
Then adjusting his arm, and aiming with
the greatest care, ‘ now for the monster’s
eye,’ said he.
The forehead of the stranger wrinkled
slightly: lie passed his hand over it to rub
off tite red mark the pit had made, and pick
ing it from the marble table on which it
fell, he gravely put it in his waiscoat pock
et. He then resuming his former posi
tion, as though he attached no importance
to what had taken place.
| All the spectators looked atone another
in astonishment.
*’Twas well aimed,' cried the officers all
at once.
‘No, I pointed it too high,’ replied Mon-
j tilly with affected calmness. ‘I must try
j again.’
A murmur of disapprobation arose from
j the different corners of the room. With-
I out appearing to notice this significant
manifestation, the Captain renewed the trial.
This time he hit the cheek a little under
the eye; without shrinking, the stranger
picked up the pit, as at first, and placed
himself in his former position.
‘You are evidently engaging with a hip
popotamus, my dear Montilly,’ said one,
‘I advise you to change the calibre of your
shot.’
‘Is the old curmudgeon going to specu
late upon cherry stones?’ ciied another
‘As he chooses,’ replied Montilly; ‘I have
a provision of chenies and patience to sa
tisfy him.’
Four times was the experiment tried,
with the same insolent perseverance on the
one side, and the same apparent insensibil
ity on the other. The indignation ol the
witnesses of this scene at last broke out;
but the almost menacing attitude of the
officers, and above all the firm and haughty
bearing of the stranger, had prevented
them from forcibly taking his part. He
had been hit several times in the face, and
his white waistcoat was dotted with little
spots like blood. At tbe sixth essay, the
pit had bounded into the middle of the
room. The stranger rose to pick it up—
they thought he was crazy. Those whom
curiosity or interest had drawn near him,
separated to let him pass. After taking it
from the floor, instead of returning to his
seat, he advanced straight to the Captain.
‘Sir,” said he, with slight irony, ‘your eye
appears to me to want correctness. I shoot
a little; permit me to offer you the lessons
which I have learned from experience.—
Six lessons will, I think, suffice. If you
please we will commence to-morrow morn-
ing- T
‘Very well, sir,’ replied Charles without
being disconceited, ‘1 am at your disposal.’
‘You have your seconds,’ continued the
stranger, ‘here are mine.’
He pointed to two persons who appear
ed interested in him. After calling and
paying the waiter he left the room, bowing
very politely to the company.
Next morning, Captain Montilly with
his two seconds had waited about an hour
at the end of one of the walks of the Bois
de Vincennes, when a carriage stopped
some distance off, and four persons got out.
‘Sir,’ said Monthly's adversary, advanc
ing towards him, ‘I beg you’ll excuse my
delay, for, contrary to custom, I make it a
rule 10 breakfast before a duel, to make
sure of it; and it is easy, believe me, to
foiget one’s self with such agreeable guests
as these two gentlemen,’ designating his
seconds, who bowed their thanks.’
‘As for this gentleman,’ pursued he, ‘1
should be very glad on this occasion to
manage my pistol with the skill he does his
lancet.’
The conditions of the duel being arrang
ed and the distance measured off', luck gave
the Captain the first shot. The piercing
look and sang j'roid of his adversary awed
him. His ball passed over the stranger’s
shoulder.
‘You nulled the trigger too quick,’ said
the latter; let’s see if my hand is steadier.
Allow ine to recommend you to keep per
fectly still, your life depends upon it. Now
for the gentleman’s right car.’
The ball whistled past. The Captain
stepped forward ; his right ear with a piece
of the occiput hung mutilated upon his
shoulder. The bullet had just grazed the
skull. The surgeon declared the wound
not at all dangerous.
‘I am almost sorry, sir,’ said the stranger,
‘to have deprived you of an ear. We snail
meet again I hope. Here is one of the pits
you sent me. Don’t forget that I still owe
you five.”
Two years had scarcely roiled by since
the incident we have related took place.—
The adventure of Captain Charles de.
Montilly was much talked of. The rough
lesson he had received often came to his
mind, and it was with apprehension he re
membered the unencouraging farewell of
the terrible stranger. If he kept his word
the unfortunate Captain would be done for
before the sixth lesson. Brave as he was,
Charles de Montilly would lather have
scaled twenty redoubts, or have been
the first to enter twenty breaches, than to
receive the remaining five shots of the ene
my he had so imprudently made ; and he
began to reflect seriously on duelling. He
attentively read the famous letter of Rous
seau on the subject, and he thought that
the eloquent husband of Terese might be
right. From this time his conversion pro
ceeded rapidly. He became more guaided
in his conversation and mote modest in his
behaviour, without losing any of the vigor
of his character. One day lie even asked
himself if he was obliged to fight six times
for the same offence, and with one adver
sary, so incomparably his superior. Equity
and common sense answered in the nega
tive. But he had command enough over
himself to regret the advantage such a deci
sion gave him. He could npt overcome
his old prejudices, and satisfied himself by
admiring the stoic heroism of Turenne.
Soon, however, he began to forget his
adventure, and to think no more of those
that were to follow it. The regiment had
changed garrison ; Charles de Montilly had
been several months at Nismes. The
Captain was a man of education, and, though
not an antiquarian, could not help feeling
interested in the Roman citj. He loved
to read Caesar’s commentaries again while
sitting among the ruins of the Amphithea
tre or the Temple of Diana, and then the
feitile fields of Languedoc are so beautiful
in the spring.
Nismes is so Roman a city that the re
fined connoisseurs of Tiberius’ or Augus
tus’ time might easily have taken that most
beautiful pottion of its inhabitants—the gri-
settes—for young Roman girls, in the su
burbs of the Eternal City. Did you ever
see the grisette of Nismes ? Talk of your
Parisgrisettes—you might as well compare
the wine of Suresne to the best Lunel or
St. Peray. What fire! what life!—’lis
•of the young girls of Nismes I am speak
ing—what grace ! what activity !
Captain Montilly was only wasting his
time here ; but iu return lie won a broken
arm, which exempted him for ever from
the service.
This is the way it happened.
One evening, as he was returning from a
favorite walk, he saw a group of young girls
seated on the ruins of the Temple of Diana.
They flew off at his approach like a flock
of travelling birds. In the confusion'one
of them left her handkerchief, which the
Captain hastened to carry to her; aud thus
his courtesy introduced him to one of the
most beetutiful of the Nistnoisians. Charles
did what every officer with plenty of time
would have done in his situation. He at
tached himself to the steps of the beautiful
Nismoisian, and in the neighborhood of her
little home, soon forgot the imposing ruins
of Roman grandeur. He was destined,
however, one day to revisit them, but not
alone. On that day, the Captain rose with
Aurora—whistled a tune, put on his most
brilliant epaulettes—thought the air purer,
the heavens mofe beautiful than he had
ever seen them—was just going out, when
some one knocked, and in walked a man.
’Tvvas the amateur of the cherry-pits.
“I am merely passing through. Sir, said
he to the stupefied Captain. “I arrived
last night, and leave to-'monow morning.—
Learning at tbe hotel l put up at, that you
were garrisoned here, 1 could not let the
opportunity slip, without paying my com
pliments, and reminding you that I am still
vour debtor.”
“You willpben oblige me by postponing
your departure, sir ; as it is imposssible to
day, for me to—”
The stranger looked him straight in tbe
eye.
“The business that obliges me to be off
to-morrow, is important aud will not admit
of delay. But you, sir, can’t you favor me
with a moment ? Pardon my inquisitive
ness ; at what hour does your business call
you, to-day ?”
“This evening at twilight.”
“Oh, then, all is right. The whole day
remains to us.”
“Your hour, sir,” demanded the Cap
tain, reddening with irnpatfence and anger.
“Why not this moment? My servant
is wailing there, under your window, with
my box of pistols—you know them ; they
are Lepage’s. I am an entire stranger
here—your seconds shall be mine.”
A half hour afterwards, on the spot where
that evening he was to meet the pearl of
Nimoisian grisettes, Charles de Montilly
received a ball in the arm.
‘ Sir,” said his adversary, taking from an
elegant purse a cherry-pit, which lie pre
sented him, “there are four more; please
to accept them in settlement of my debt,
and in remembrance of me.”
Charles de Montilly happily was cured
of tiiis second wound, and was torever de
livered from the presence and lessons of
the redoubtable shooting-master. But he
never again saw his pearl of Nimoisian gri-
seMes , as his regiment had changed quar
ters during his confinement. Ward.
From the London Punch.
Urs. Caudle’s Curtain Lectures.
LECTURE XVIII.
Caudle, in the course of the day has ventur
ed, to question the economy of “ Washing
at home.
“Pooh ! a pretty temper you come to
bed in, Mr. Caudle, I can see ! Oh, don’t
deny it—I think 1 ought to know by this
time. But it’s always the way ! whenever
I get up a few things, the house can hardly
hold you ! Nobody cries out more for
clean linen than you do—and nobody leads
a poor woman so miserable a life when she
tries to make her husband comfortable.—
Comfortable ! Yes, Mr. Caudle—comforta
ble. You need’nt keep chewing the word
as if you could’nt swallow it. Was there
ever such a woman ? No Caudle; I hope
not; 1 should hope no other wife was ever
put upon as I am. It’s all very well for
you. I can’t have a little wash at home
like any body else, but you must go about
the house swearing to yourself, and looking
at your wife as if she was your bitterest
enemy. But I suppose you’d rather we
did’nt wash at all. Y es ; then you’d be
happy ! To be sure you would—you’d
like to have all the children in their dirt,
like potatoes ; anything so that it did’nt
disturb you. 1 wish you’d had a wife who’d
never washed—she’d have suited you, she
would. Y r es ; a fine lady, who’d have let
your children go that you might have scra
ped ’em. She’d, have been much better
cared for than I am. I only wish I could
let all of you go without clean linen at all;
yes, all of you. I wish 1 could ! And if
I was’nt a slave to my family, unlike any
body else, I should.
“No, Mr. C audle, the house isn’t tossed
about in water us if it was Noah’s Ark.—
And you ought, to be ashamed of yourself
to talk of Noah’s Ark iri that loose manner.
I’m sure I don’t know what I’ve done to be
manied to a man of such principles. No:
and the whole house does’nt taste of soap
suds either; and if it did, any other man
but yourself would be above naming it. I
suppose I don’t like washing day any more
thaii yourself. What do you say ? Yes, 1
do ? Hu, you’re wrong there, Mr. Caudle.
No ; 1 don’t like il because it makes every
body else uncomfortable. No; and I ought
not to have been burn a mermaid, that 1
might always have been in the watei. A
met maid, indeed ! What next will you cal!
me ? But no man, Mr. Caudle, says such
things to his wife as you. However, as I’ve
said before, it can’t last long, that’s one
comfort. What do you say l you're glad
of it ? You’re a brute, Mr. Caudle ! No,
you did’nt mean washing. 1 know what
you meant. A pretty speech to a woman
who’s been the wife to you I have ! Y ou’ll
repent it when it’s too late ; yes, I
vvould’nt have your feelings when -I’m
goqe, Caudle ; no, not for the Bank of Eng
land.
“And when we only wash once a fort
night. Ha ! I only wish you had some
wives ; they’d wash once a week ! Besides
if once a fortnight’s too much for you, why
don’t you give me money that we rnay have
things to go a month ? Is it my fault if
we’re short? What do you say ? My
once a fortnight lasts three days? No, it
does’nt ; never. Well, very seldom, and
that’s the same thing. Can I help it, if the
blacks will fly, and the things must be rin
sed again ? No; I’m not made happy by
the blacks, and they don’t prolong my en
joyment ; and mote than that you’re an un
feeling man to say so. Y'ou’re enough to
make a woman wish herself in her grave—
you are, Caudle.
And a pretty example you set to your
sons ? Because we’d a little wash to-day,
and there vvas’nt a hot dinner—and who
thinks of getting anything hot for washer
women ?—because you bad’nt everything
as you always have it, you must swear at
the cold mutton—and you don’t know
what that mutton cost a pound, I dare say:
you must swear at a sweat, wholesome joint
like a lord. What? You did' nt swear ?—
Y r es, it’s very well for you to say so ; but 1
know when you’re swearing; and you
swear when you little think it; and I say
you must go on swearing as you did, and
seize your hat like a savage, and rush out
of the house, and take your dinner at a tav
ern I A pretty wife people must think
you have, when they find you dining at
public house. A nice home they must
think you have, Mr. Caudle! What?—
You'll do so every time 1 trash? Very well,
Mr. Caudle—very well. We’ll soon see
who's tired of that first; for I’ll wash a
stocking a day if that’s all, sooner than you
should have everything as you like. Ha !
that’s so like you ; you'd trample every bo
dy under foot, if you could—you know you
would, Caudle, so don’t deny it. Now, if
you begin to shout iu that manner, I’ll
leave the bed. It’s very hard that I can’t
say a single word to you but you must al
most raise the place. You did'ut shout ?—
l don’t know what you call shouting then.
I’m sure the people must hear you in the
next house. No, it won’t do to call me
soft names, now, Caudle. I’m not the fool
that I was when I waa first married— I
know better now. You’re to treat me in
the manner you have all day ; and then at
night, the only time and place when I can
[NO. 26.
get a word in, you want to go to sleep.— 1
How can you be so mean, Caudle.
“ What ? Why can't Iputdhc tcashing j
out ? Now, you’ve asked that a thousand
times, hut it’s no use, Caudle ; so don’t ask 1
it again. 1 won’t pm it out. What do you !
say ? Mrs. Prettyman sTiys it's quite as
cheap! Pray, what’s Mrs. Prettyman to’
me ? I should think, Mr. Candle, that 1 :
know very well how to take care of my j
family, without Mrs. Prettyman’s advice.
Mrs. Prettyman, indeed ! I only wish she’d
come here, that I might tell her so. Mrs.
Prettyman ! But perhaps she’d better
come and take care of your house for you !
Oh, yes ! I’ve no doubt she’d do it much
better than I do—much. No, Caudle !—
I won’t hold my tongue ? I think I ought
to be mistress of my own washing by this
time—and after the wife I’ve been to you.
its cruel of you t« go on as you do.
Don’t tel! me about putting the washing
out. I say it is’nt so cheap—I don’t care
whether you wash by the dozen or not—it j
is’nt so cheap ; I’ve reduced every thing
and I save at least a shilling a week. What j
do you say ? A trumpery shilling ? Ha' |
I only hope to goodness you'll not come to j
want, talking of shillings in ihe way you do.!
Now don’t begin about your comfort; don’t
go on aggravating me, and asking me if j
your comfort’s not worth a shilling a week?;
That’s nothing at all to do with it—noth- j
ing: but that’s your way—when I talk of
one thing, you talk of another ; that's so
like you men, and you know it.
“Allow me to tell you, Mr. Caudle, that j
a shilling a week is two pound twelve a[
year, and take two pound^twelve a year for)
let us say thirty years, and—well, you j
need’nt groan, Mr. Caudle—I don’t sup-j
pose it will be so long ; oh, no ! you’ll;
have somebody else to lock after your,
washing long before that—and if it was’nt
for my dear children’s sake I should’nt cat e I
how soon, Y"ou know my mind—and so
good night, Mr. Caudle.”
“Thankful for her silence,” writes Cau-;
die, “I was fast, dropping to sleep ; when
nudging my elbow, my wife observed— !
“Mind, there’s the cold mutton to-morrow; j
nothing hot till that’s gone. Remember,;
too, as it was short wash to-day, we wash j
again on Wednesday.”
Trail* of moral Courage in crcrr day life.
Have the courage to discharge a debt!
while you have the money in your pocket.;
Have the courage to do without that which \
you do not need, however much you may
admire it. Have the courage to speak I
your mind when it is necessary that you !
should do so, and to hold your tongue when j
it is better that you should be silent. Have 1
the courage to speak to a friend in a ‘seedy
coat, even in the street, and when a rich
one is nigh ; the effort is less than many
people take it to be, and the act is woithy
a king. Have the courage to set down ev
ery penny you spend, and add it uflKek-
ly. Have the courage to pass youj^®st’s
lacquey at the door, without givin
shilling, when you know you canno'
it—and, what is more, that the man has not
earned it. Have the courage to own that
you are poor, and you disarm poverty of
her sharpest sting. Have the couiage to
laugh at your personal defects, and the
wot Id will be deprived of that pleasure, by
being leminded of their own. Have the
courage to admit that you have been in the
wrong, and you will remove the fact from
the mind of others, putting a desirable im
pression in the place of an unfavorable one.
Have the courage to adhere to a first reso
lution when you cannot change it for a bet
ter, and to abandon it at the eleventh hour,
upon conviction.
Have the courage to acknowledge your
age to a day, and to compare it with the
average life of man. Have the courage to
make a will, and what is more, a just one.
Have the courage to face a difficulty lest it
kick you harder than you bargain for : dif
ficulties, like thieves, often disappear at a
glance. Have the courage to avoid, ac
commodation bills, however badly you want
money : and to decline pecuniary assistance
fiom your dearest friend. Have tiie cour
age to shut your eyes at the prospect of
large profits, and to be content with small
ones. Have the courage to tell a man
why you will not lend him your money; he
will respect you more than if you tell him
you can’t. Have the couiage to ‘cut’ the
most agreeable acquaintance you p rssess,
when be convinces you that he lacks princi
ple : “a friend should bear with a friend’s
infirmities”—not his vices. Have the cou
rage to show your preference for honesty,
in whatever guise it appears ; and your
contempt for vice surrounded by attrac
tions. Have the courage to give occasion
ally that which you can ill afford to spare;
giving what you do not want or value, nei
ther brings nor deserves thanks in return ;
who is grateful fora drink of water from an
other’s overflowing well, however delicious
the draught? Have the coinage to wear
your old gaiments till you can pay for new
ones. Have the courage to obey your ma
ker, at the risk of being tidiculed' by man.
Have the courage to wear thick boots in
winter, and to insist upon your wife and
daughters doing the like. Have the cour
age to acknowledge ignorance of any kind;
every body will immediately doubt you,
and give you more credit than any false
pretensions could secure. Have the cour
age to prefer prrrpriety to fashion—one is
but the abuse of the other. Have the
courage to listen to your wife when you
should do so, and not to listen when you
should not. [This applies to husbands.]—
Have the courage to provide a frugal din
ner for a friend, whom you ‘delight to hon
or;’when you cannot afford wine, offer btm
porter; the importance of most things is
that which we ourselves attach to them.—
Have the courage to ask a visitor to excuse
you when hts presence interferes with your
convenience. Have the courage to throw
your snuff box into the fire or melting pot;
to pass a tobacconist shop, and to decline
the use of a friend’s box. for even one pinch.
Have the courage to be independent if you
can, and act independently when you may.
English Gentleman.
A preacher is now attempting to prove that
the beast who was chained a thousand years, and
then let loose to scourge mankind, is nothing
else than R-u-m! This. then, is wbal is meaot
by the beast’s having so many horns, and so many
mouths to match them.
We find the following capital anecdote run
ntng the rounds of the English press. It is too
good to be missed. We tike it from the
“Times.”
A friend of M. Gui*ot’s having visited him tbe
other day. found him iu his garden walking, and
engaged' in the perusal ot a volume of M.
Thiers’ History. The visitoi inquired after the
Minister’s health. Je me porte ires bienf was
the reply, vovs vouez ft lis les romans' I am
quite recovered ; yon see I read romances.
Gen. Van Hiu’ Letter.
In the New Y r ork Herald of yesterday, is
published the following letter, which is said
to be a correct copy of l be one addressed by
Gen. Y an Ness, of Washington, to Mr.
Polk, relative to the resignation of Collec
tor Y an Ness, of New Y r ork. It was writ
ten and forwarded before the Collector’s
final resignation.
To James K. Polk, President of the Unit
ed States:
Sir:—It is understood, that you are
about to remove from the office of Collec
tor of the Port of New Y ork, C. P. Van
Ness, Esq. I beg leave to say a few words
to you on that subject. This shall be done
in terms of respect; whilst I boast, with a
pride I trust not unbecoming, that I have a
right to speak when 1 behold a serious
menace of impending wrong }o one, in
whose fate 1 am not without some personal
interest, and in whose ruin there is to be a
violation, you will find, not only of sound
policy, but also of tbe sacred principles of
both private and public justice. 1 fortu
nately need, and therefore ask, nothing for
myself; and you will bear me witness, that
l never annoyed or troubled you in rela
tion to appointments, except for perhaps
about fifteeen minutes in this one case.—-
Yoil then treated me patiently and cour
teously ; not saying anything of your can
dor.
The Collector, it seems, is to be remov
ed. This being, from the importance of
the port, a subject of some distinction and
rather more than ordinary public note, as
is obvious from numerous demonstrations
in various quarters, not limited by, or as-
cribable to, personal partiality, there are
anxious inquiries for the-reasons of the pro
posed step. Is there any defalcation iu
the public funds ?—any want of talent, in
dustry, or efficiency, in the management of
the public business?—any injustice or op-
ptession to or upon private individuals?—
In short, any rnal-admiriistiatiun or official
misconduct ! Jo all those enquiries, there
is a universally negative response. I will
not dwell on what others say ; but you sav
yourself, unreservedly, that he is an able
and upright officer; that he dischaiges the
arduous duties of his trust without impeach
ment or exception ; and that there is not b
more efficient Executive agent under the
Government. Excuse me for what may
possibly be considered somewhat digres
sive. Now, sir, a functionary of your high
station, power and responsibility, in this
Government, is not to act without reason.—
Y ou are the moral aud political head of a
gteat country. I need not tell you, that
whilst it is your duty to promote its physi
cal and political improvement, you are
equally responsible for its moral condition.
J he mass will be sound when its ingredi
ents are so. A community of honest, hon
orable, highminded individuals, will be of
the same character. Besides, the intellect
fosters the feelings anti principles of honor
in the one, and you will elevate the charac
ter of the other, and immortalize u on the
rolls of history , and moreover, vou will
youtself, as the ruler, stand before posteri
ty in glorious association with it. But, sir,
on the other hand, cherish and encourage
the vicious propensities c.fthe unptincipled,
who can acquire distinction and success
only by the arts of detraction from, and de
pression of, superior merit : who surround
you with their cloaked weapons, most
dangerous to the most ingenuous and most
honorable; whose insiduous shafts, des
patched in the dark, speed most surely to
the destined and unguarded victim ; and
you are suie to humiliate and mortify the
good, honorable and highminded. Elevate
human feelings, and you ennoble the hu
man character and multiply human bless-
ings; humiliate them, and you sink your
fellow men to degradation, vice and misery.
Discard and therefore repel, the wretches
who surround you with their intrigues and
machinations against merited distinction,
and rest only on tne firm perpendicular pil
lars of exalted and virtuous ministers.
Well, then, 1 repeat w hat are the reasons
for the removal ? Why, without adverting
to insignificant trifles and circumstances of
a personal character and of no weight, he is,
it is said, not sufficiently popular in New
York; whilst a little contemptible press,
and perhaps an expression furtively obtain
ed from a collection of a few individuals in-
triguingly managed, resolve that he is not
a genuine Democrat, (of theircreed,) whilst
at the same time, the genuine Democracy
of the city aud State testify to the contrary.
The agitators are met and confionted on
their own ground, at their meetings, out
voted, routed and defeated! J’he mer
cantile and business community, with one
acclaim, pronounce the merit of the collec
tor ! Still vou say, as guardian and con
servator of the public harmony„you are
bound to compose the existing agitation,
assuming that the removal ofslaithful and
able officer, thus partially and factiouslv
sought, will have tbe desired effect! If £
mistake the case, I wish to be corrected
and admonished.
Well, then, again, sir, here is a member
of the true Democratic stock of American
patriots, (it is unnecessary to retrospect in
detail; for, however honorable the inheri
tance may be, when it does occur, I am not
an advocate of the doctrine of the natural
and necessary lineal descent of ancestral
merit,) who, not refetring to his education
and professional pursuits in the State of
New Y'ork, has, from his earliest manhood
and entrance on the stage of human action,
been employed in the public service of his
country ; who, after having removed from
New Y ork to V etmont, held with great re
putation the responsible office of Collector
of that State, dut ing the late war with Great
Britain, when the border circumstances in
th6 Canadian boundary region were of a
critical character, both in a military and
commercial \iew; who was afterwards
Chief Justice of that respectable State, and
had, besides, an important agency in digest
ing its jurisprudential code; who was af
terwards selected as the Commissioner fof
the United States, under tieaty, foq, estab
fishing and then running the central
section of tbe boundary line between us
and the Canadas^—a service which ti e
honored Albert Gallatin told me him
self, had been performed with “con
summate ability” as was fully developed
in the diplomatic agency which that great
man subsequently conducted, on our part,
in London, on that subject;—(ask that ve
nerable patriot himself, now standing with
one foot in his grave, in New York, whe
ther 1 belie or misrieptesent him;)—who
was afterwards Governor of that State,
(Vermont.) and actually revolutionized it
from a warm Federal to a Democratic
State ; who was then appointed by the im
mortal Jackson Miuister Plenipotentiary to
Spain, where, among many other impor-
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