Newspaper Page Text
II.
XXVI.]
mi ure.
wille. June 10, 104-3.
22 tf
EODOSIUS B. DAVIES,
attorney at law,
Milledgeville, Ga.
1, 1845 25 6m
.1. §. MITCHELL,,
attorney at law,
STAItKEVILLE, Let County, 3a.
10 tf
MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JULY 22, 1845.
lTkIEVE & ORMB,
P' (B1T 0«* A' 0 PHOPUIKTORS.
terms .
R is published weekly, in the Ufa-
Dollars, per annum, payable ir
^ I1JI.I.ARS. if not paid before the end
<t' 11 a r ; n an y case, sent out of tlie Stale.
S0P’P- d for ts advance; or any new
; ti' 5t p '| e3 , period than o.ve TEAR, tiniest
-^f Your Dollars per annum in
i» e r>ie
4 conspicuously inserted at the usual
it'nut a specification of the number
v*r*' Ae published until ordered cut, and
, Mevroes, by Administrators. Exe-
I’.vf .‘reacquired by law to be held on
■ .SH ri '' u j,e month, between the hours of ten
[r.^ 115 ' 1 1 three in the afternoon, at the Court
a " ,v in which the property is situate.
>“ n :-, 5 mn , t be given in a public gazette
radons to the day of sale.
V* F' of personal property must be given
. . .be saw. p rev ious to the day of sale
••**• creditors of an estate must also
ieatn rian
: j .• iRTY DA* 8-
’ lfJ lVotmn will be made to the Court
til** a ?P“' , n sell Land or Negroes, must be
f,r leave i” 3
*7 VOCR MONTHS.
;l ° , rters of Administration.must be pub-
i i .. < 3i"tuet dUmUsion f rom administration,
f; -if ^Ifor dismission from Guardianship,
_ re 0 f Mortgage must be published
•oloreclns f )r e3lab )i a hing lost papers for
sr four non (oT com pelling titles from
,ict of ll \ n ‘ . tor3 , where a bond has been
v ” r , A a «ed tlufnil spice of three months.
:lt wTli always be continued according to
, m3 lTr!luireinenis. unless otherwise ordered.
tksi . . i; n eof Printing, will meet with
Saddle Recorder Opeice.
fttS on business mustbe pus* paid. .
• r ea’iestinar the direction of
hr subscribers p 0<t office to another, are
pprsehanged (Oi 1 ^ makin g 8UC h requests, to
in every ins • [> ost Office/row whici.
I-,”* jJ'^eXas mat to which they may thete
ii it sent. , . , .
, neW -Post office Law, winch goes into
the I t of July, Newspapers can be sent
| eJ free of postage.
u the Planters of Georgia.
i.nibers have established a shop in Mor
SU ’ nlv te n miles from Madison, and fifteen
r"Inilo. where tiiey are prepared to do an
f in es< in the manufacture of
COTTON GINS,-
* r jor quality. Having a first rate set of
'lurenby Water Power, and having the
surkmen, and using none but the best and
nuteiials, they feel confident in saying
g 15j w i|| be superior to any others made in
-it equal to any in the United States, and
l ,_ Jt inducement* to purclia3er3 as any other
- Hi in Georgia. The Gins will be delivered
.’"-.riserin all cases, Lee of charge for triuis-
,,Jwarranted to perform well in every re-
| il letters addressed to us at Madison. Mor-
v Georgia, will be promptly attended to.
1 pairing done in the best manner, and at
IV IN SHIP. KING & JOHNSON.
-,-Co.,Gi., May 27. 1845 20 12m*
Hire and House Carpentering.
SERT D. HALL, (successor of IK. Lord,)
lucinstantly on hand, makes to order, and re-
,jnds of Furniture.
d, of House Carpentering done in the
inrer, and low.
Indi of Paints can he had ready for use,
c!:o any size and Glazing done.
Gins fur Picture frames, &c., of various si-
iirdware Trimmings for furniture, &c., and
in and Black Walnut Draw Nobs, &<-.
Ladies will please call at Mr. Newell’s Store,
Dev will he conducted inlo the Shop and cau
MISCELLANEOUS.
Pencillings of Politicians.
Very few, indeed, of the countless roul
I take leave of Hunt, only remarking that
I in a few months after I met him he was
[NO. 28.
struck down by apoplexy, whilst travelling
in his chaise, and died iu a few hours after-
titudes who visit the great world of Lon-1 wards.
don, either for business or pleasure, omit j Since the burning of the Houses ofPar-
to embrace the opportunity of attending the Uament the place in which the businesss of
debates iu the two houses of Parliament, i nation has been transacted was built
and of becoming acquainted with the per- j f° r merely temporary use. During the
sonal appearances of those with whose g reat Reform debates, I was fortunate
names, through the medium of the public j enou gh *° procure a Speaker’s order, which
journals, they have already been made fa- admitted me to the body of the House, or
miliar. But as thete are many in this coun- j at i east to that part situated under the gal- )
tty who never have, and, in all probability, | ' e, y» allotted to the use of the public.— i
never will, exossthe Atlantic, 1 have been i Occasionally, too, I ensconced myself iu
induced, at the request of several readeis ! Reporlei’s gallery, as I was iniimate
(tf these sketches, to introduce to them a i w ’ 1 ^ some °f the gentlemencounected with
few of the prominent speakers in the Brit- i ^ ,e trtorning journals ; and I will venture
ish Parliament, especially those whose to assert that lor genuine humor, real fun,
names are familiar on this side of the ! and rollicking amusement, there is no place
water. j during a full debate, to be compared with
It is by no means, I am sorry to say, so ! ^ le Reporter’s quarters—during a biisk
easy a matter to procure admission into the 1 fi S ht below, there is, of course, time for lit-
Houses of Parliament in England, as it is
to get into the Halls of Legislation in Arne-
tie else than quill driving.
By far the best reporters on the London
rica. Unless an order from a member of P ress are Irishmen ; all of them, of course,
the lower House be obtained, the doors of wel * educated, and many of them members
of learned professions. Occasionally they
play off their jokes on any unfortunate who
may enter on their sacred precincts—one
the “Commons” are closed against the pe-
tioner for enti ance ; and to enter the House
of Lords a Peer’s order is necessary, and ,
that is by no means easily procurable. In- °/ the best I have heard of 1 w ill just men-
deed, hundreds of individuals are debarred I tU)n -
the privilege of entry from their inability j ^ f ew years since, a memoer of the So
to procure the necessary documents ; and j c * e ^y of Friends, by some means or other, got
many will not incur the risk of a refusal, I iato . lh ® Reporter’s gallery. In the course
Irom a purse proud member or a haughty
Lord.
My first visit to the councils of the Biit-
ish nation was paid before the old Houses
of Parliament were burned down. I did
not know so much about legislative assem
blies then as I do now, and iu my green
ness supposed that the sitting of Parlia
ment was a very grave and dignified affair,
indeed. Provided with an order from the
Member of Parliament from my native city
1 presented it at the doorway of the gallery,
of the debate to which he was listening, a
long pause occurred, and one of the Re
porters broke the silence of the House by
calling out, at the top of his voice, “ A song
from the Speaker !” Such an infraction of
the rules of the House caused, of course,
the greatest surprise ; and on motion of a
member, the Sergeant at arms was de
spatched to the gallery for the purpose of
taking the offending individual into custo
dy. On the officet’s entering the Reporter’s
I box, the wag who had been the cause of the
and after sundry squeezings and many vig-1 disturbance, slyly pointed out the Quaker
orous efforts, I managed to wriggle into a
back seat in the gallery allotted to the pub
lic, and from whence I had a tolerable
| view of Lire house and its members.
“What a bear gerden 1” w-as my excla-
i mation of surprise, av I looked down on the
honorable House. It was an oblong apart-
| meut, ill lighted and badly ventilated ; on the
i walls were hung old tapestries, which more
as the delinquent; and the disciple ol'Fox
was immediately taken into custody, from
which he was not released until an expla
nation of the affair was made.
Let us suppose ourselves in the House
of Lords, during some interesting debate.
We are crowded together below the bar,
but can, nevertheless, obtain pretty fair
glimpses of the Peers. The Lord Chart-
1 resembled the refuse of a rag shop, than j cellor [Cottenham) wigged and gowned, is
anything else. In a chair, at the upper j sitting on the wool sack, (a huge pack, co
end, sat the Speaker, grotesquely attired
in a wig, and on either side of the apait-
[elamotta sheftall,
attorney at law,
blLL practice in the several Courts of the
Mi,Idle and Southern Circuits of Georgia.—
.esseniru-Ud to hi* rare will be promptly nt-
. Office at Reidsville, Tattnall county. Ga
3. 1345 SI 12m
IaSHUBST & DIOU1ATARI,
•ltlornics at Mjatc y
Eatonton, Ga.
practice in all the Counties of the Ocnulgee
Circuit.
:!5.1845 14 tf
WILLI ATI F. BROOKS.
.rrrott.yi: »* jt L.ii**,
TALBOTTON, GA.
ILL practice in the counties of theCbattahoc
dice Circuit. All business confided to bir -
wtv.th the most promptattention.
anj'J. 1844 g tf
CIURLES S. HAWLEY,
.ttlorurg al Bitw,
HA7KIX3VILLE, Pulaski County. Ga.
references.
■ HntiCHF.LL V. Johnson, Milledgeville, Ga.
Casuton B. Cole, Judge of the Superior
SuUn-rn Circuit, Midway, Ga.
|.19,1844 45 12m
ment were arranged benches, placed paral
lei witli the side walls—in the centre ol
the floor was an open space.
The members and supporters of the Gov
ernment sat on one side of the House, and
the opposili yn party on the other. Some
were lolling listless on their seats—many
were stretched at their full length, asleep
on the back benches—some were convers
ing—and all, with the exception of the
member addressing the House, had their
hats on. A member was making a speech,
but not a word of his address could I hear,
owing to the multitudinous noises which
assailed my ears ; it was to me all dumb
show. Now an honorable member would
imitate the crowing of a cock—then the
harking of a dog would create a peal of
laughti r—cries of‘oh ! oh !’ were every mo
ment heard—and what with all this, and
vered with scarlet cloth,) and before him
lies the mace, and, enclosed in its bag, the
great seal of England, of which,by vii tue of
his office, he is the keeper. Near him sit
the twelve Judges, all in their wigs, and
scarlet robes, trimmed with ermine ; and at
his side are the lawn-sleeved Bishops.—
The Peers are diessed in plain clothes, as
they always are, indeed, excepting on the
occasions of the Queen’s opening, proro
guing or dissolving Parliament. We may
recognize several of them, by the resem
blance they hear to ceilain personages in
the caricatures of H. B. or Punch. For in
stance, look at that tall, ungainly looking
figure, which leans carelessly against the
hack of the bench. Mark those sitapless
trousers, of dark check—those unblacked
boots—that rusty, ill cut coat—that volum
inous neck-cloth, in whose folds the chin is
half buiied; glance at that hat, which co-
\ er3 the owner of these shabby habiliments,
the noises made by continually enteiing and, without a glimpse of the face beneath
and departing members, the confusion was j '•» y ou cannot make a mistake about the
such that all my ideas of the dignity of Par-! Ford who is so busily employed in reading
liament were at once scattered to the I perhapsreport of one of his own speeches
winds.
On that particular evening the celebrated
Radical, Cobbett, happened to speak. 1
looked at him with great interest, of course.
He was a tall, well-built, portly man, with
a good humored face, a keen grey eye, and
white hair. He was dressed in nankeen
trowsers, and had on a coat and waistcoat
of some light matet ial. On the bench be
side him was his famous white hat. He
spoke unaffectedly, and to the point, using
no effort, and without any apparent attempt
at display. No one unacquainted with
him, would have supposed him to be the
bitter and vigorous political writer—and I
believe it is generally acknowledged that
lie failed as a Parliamentary speaker.
Henry Hunt was also in the House, hut
he did not say anything. 1 bad but a slight
glimpse of the celebrated mob orator, and
in the Times. Most probably he is, nr fan-
kindly commended the portrait, and fur
nished the artist with letters to some of his
friends, which ultimately procured him
commissions.
Now for a contrast. On the bench op
posite to Brougham is sealed a gentleman
with folded arms, end a singularly intellect
ual countenance : a calm dignity is its dis
tinguishing characteristic. It is a face
which would at once attract admiring and
respectful attention, if met with amongst a
crowd of philosophers. There is a pro
foundness of thought evident m the expres
sion of those deeply-set eyes, and firmness
—great firmness—vindicated by the mouth.
Notice the ease of his position—the quiet,
yet deep attention he pays to what is going
on. Mark the scarcely peiceptible curl of
his lip, as some satirical allusion is made
to his parly. That is no common man —
The son of an American portrait-painter,
by the sheer force of his own transcendent
genius he rose to the highest station which
a subject can fill in England, in his profes
sion—that of Lord Chancellor. It is Lord
Lyndhurst.
I was once gratified and astonished by an
exhibition of Lord Lyndhurst’s prodigious
powers of memory. When I was quite a
lad, he was fhen, as Sir John Copley, Re
corder of my native city ; and 1 remember
his fine and dignified appearance, when on
the Bench, as well as if I saw him but yes
terday. At that time he was engaged in
trying a person for murder. The case was
one in which the evidence wa9 purely cir
cumstantial, and, as the crime was commit
ted by means of poison, medical and chemi
cal evidence, of the most complicated de
scription, was adduced both for and against
the accused. During three days the trial
proceeded, and, on the morning of the
fourth, Sir John Copley was to sum up.—
Much anxiety was felt, as to his charge to
the jury, and the court was crowded at an
early hour. I was there, and occupied a
place in the gallery immediately over the
Judge’s seat. At nine o’clock he entered
the Court, seemingly as fresh and vigorous
as if he had uot for the last three days ap
plied all the powers of his mind !o the in
vestigation and disentanglement of the web
of evidence which had been woven by the
counsellors for the prosecution and defence.
It is well known that Sir John Copley,
when he sat on the bench, took very few
notes of what vva3 transpiring, trusting
chiefly to his memory. Such was his course
in the present instance. Before commenc
ing his charge, he looked for a minute or
two, over a few sheets of paper which* he
brought into Court with him ; and then,
rolling them np, and taking them in his
hand, he commenced his address to the
jury. In thecourseof his charge, without
referring for an instant to a note, (except
ing in two or three instances, for the pur
pose of ascertaining the name of a witness,)
he recapitulated the evidence, commented
on it, stripped the arguments of counsel of
their sophistries, detailed the medical and
chemical opinions ; and, divesting the evi
dence of the professional gentlemen of all
technicalities, placed their testimony in
such clear light before the jury, that it as
tonished the doctors and the chemists them
selves—and then, having concluded the
whole of the evidence, he went over and
over it again, dissecting it with the utmost
nicety, and stating how it bore for or
against the prisoner—and concluded by
some of the most solemn remarks, oil the
fallibility of human judgment, that I ever
heard.
Will it be believed that this mostlumin-
ous charge, which occupied nine houis in
cies himself to be mis-reported—for see' the delivery, (with only half an hour’s in-
how fuiiously his eyes twinkle, how nerv
ously agitated are his brows—how his
mouth describes all imaginable angles and
curves, and how that “ little probocis” of
his writhes, as if in mortal agony. See, he
springs to his feet, and having caught the
Chancellor’s eye, he raps the paper violent
ly with the back of his right hand, whilst
the words “hieach of. privilege” are over
and over again uttered. It is Brougham—
who else on eailh can it be 1 “None but
himself can be his parallel.” And he ve
hemently pours forth a denunciatory flood
against, and empties all the vials of his
wrath upon, the unlucky print, whilst his
compeers sit, regarding him with mingled
admiration and amusement.
teival of rest,) was delivered without the
aid of notes! Yet such, 1 solemnly aver,
wss the case. And so intensely interesting
was it, that no one tired. Yet this is but
one of many instances of Lord Lyndhurst’s
peculiar power ! Many such might, if ne
cessary, he adduced.
Whilst dining at a friend’s, a few days
since, in company with a highly intelligent
clergyman of Boston, the conversation turn
ed on the subject of the House of Lords.—
“ When I was there,” said the clergyman
alluded to, “ I onlv heard one good speak
er, and he was an American.” And so far
as his experience went he was right, for
there are few better speakers in the House
than Lyndhurst. And in ninety-nine cases
^13. 1345
GEO. W. FISH,
.irroB.v£r .it l.iis*,
Millcdgevilce, Ga.
LL practice in the courts of the counties of
Hal'lwin, Wilkinson, Twiggs, Pulaski, Lau-
!| 1 Washington.
1 fcssional business entrusted to him shall be
din with p>-omptness and fidelity.
dfeville, March 25. 1815. 11 2Gt
J. LAW,
uri'OK.TPi' .ir i.ii**,
'AIRBRIDGE, Decatur Countt. Ga.
LL attend punctually the Superior Courts of
tbe counties of Early, Baker and Decatur, of
1 n-we,tem, and of the coauty of Thomas of the
'n Circuit.
f 1845^ 17 tf
THOMAS C. N1SBET,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Savannah, Ga-
shouid have retained at the present time, j first strike a stianger. His voice is harsh,
but a very uncertain recollection of him, j unmusical, and even grating. In action,
had it not been for the following circum- ( too, he is far from being effective. But see
stance : j him, when he has well warmed up to his
In the year 1S33, I was staying with a | subject, and hear him, as he wields the ter-
friend of mine, a tradesman, at Lis house, ■ table weapons of sarcasm and invective.—
in one of the market towns of Somerset-j Then, indeed, is he great, and it may be
shire—and one day, whilst standing at the ■ added, 1 hope without being irreverent,
Lord Brougham’s oratory would not at 1 out of a hundred, a stianger would miss
hearing any thing like a tolerable speech.
Lord Lyndburst’s voice is exceedingly
pleasant, and his eloquence flows in one
continuous and beautiful stream. He ne
ver rants, or tears a passion to tatters ; nor
does he, by plausible arguments, or spe
cious statements, produce his great effects.
The moment lie is “on his legs,” the House
door of his shop, he directed my attention
to a gentleman who was walking on the
other side of the street. The stranger
was upwards of six feet high, with a fresh,
country, pure white and red complexion,
hair white as the driven snow, and a form
which at one time must have been very
powei ful. His face wore a pleasant smile, | ent times, and for hours together
and his bearing was quite gentlemanly.—
It was Hunt; he had then quitted Parlia-
j ment, and was travelling on bis business,
! he being an extensive manufacturer of the
i noted ‘Matchless Blacking.” He called,
in the course of the morning, at my friend’s
“ greatly to he feared.” Like the lion, he ' always pays the most respectful attention.
With his right hand placed in the breast of
his buttoned coat, and rather ungracefully
sawing the air with his extended left arm,
he commenced in a low, musical, and dis
tinct voice—gradually bis voice becomes
louder, and then, in rapid succession, bril
liant sentences succeed each other, until
artist, named Evans, residing at Newport, his lucid statements have half persuaded,
in Monmouthshiie, was commissioned by eveti his opponents. He never suffers any
the Mechanics’ Institute of that place, to 1 interruption to ruffle his temper, and in this
paint a full length portrait of Lord Brough- he is the very opposite of his great rival,
am for their large room ; and the noble sit- Brougham, who becomes nettled to the
ter having acceded to the request of the quick at any interference whilst he is speak-
lashes himself into a fury, and then, woe
be unto those who shall fall under the se
verity of his merciless infliction. Yet in
home life he is pleasant enough, and I had
some slight opportunity, about two years
since, of seeing him in his parlor, atdiffer-
A young
shop, and accepted his invitation to spend j committee, the artist proceeded to London ing. Lord Lyndhurst may he considered
REFERENCES
•" Nisbet, E*q. )
1’oe & Nisbet, J
17,1845
Macon.
23 12m
'^RATIONS ON THE TEETH.
A. H. HOUGHTON,
a/ Huson's Hotel, Milledgeville.
-XTIONS in Surgical and Mechanical Den-
* performed with skill,and in the most ser
‘^nner.
-ring from the effects of Denial Tartar,
' ?oshed,and restored to their former beamy;
"- requiring extraction taken out with the
* forceps.
‘-k 'iecayed, will lie filled, if desired, with Gold
I the evening—and a pleasanter time I have
j seldom passed ; for Mr. Hum’s career had
| been a very eventful one, and lie was full
j of anecdotes respecting the various celebia-
I ted men of bis day.
He was very bitter against Mr. (now Sir
for the purpose of executing his commis
sion. 1 was in town at the time, and ac
companied the artist on four occasions to
Led Brougham’s house in Berkeley square.
During the sittings, his lady and daughter,
(an only child,) were frequently in the room,
Robert) Peei, and told us that on one occa- and I could not but observe and admire the
sion the latter had, in his place in Parlia- i exceeding gentleness of the father to his
ment, twitted him with being a tradesman, j invalid child. One could hardly have re-
I was not in my seat, remarked Hunt, when j cognised, in the anxious parent, the belli-
the remark was made, but I soon after en- j cose orator of the Upper House. During
tered the House, and some one told me ' the progress of the picture he talked con-
what Peel had said of me. So l rose and j tinually and very affably with the painter-
admitted the fact that I was a blacking man- made many inquiries respecting the Iron
ufacturer—and added, “ I am the first of ; districts, from which he came—asked, with
my family who ever was a tradesman, hut much apparent interest, questions respect-
the honorable member is the first of his who : ing the state of education there, and on
ever teas a gentleman."
He hated O’Connell with a perfect ha
tred, and said that he was the greatest hyp
ocrite breathing. He averred that he knew
it to be a fact that the Agitator had a little
chapel at his house in Merrion Square,
Dublin, in which was a painting of the cru
cifixion—and that it was O Connell s hab
it to suffer himself to be surprised at his
iiie 17 fnF’ ^' Bancroft.
■ with Diamond Cement, and all piuss
H Perfect.
Teeth impro|>erly inserted, or otheiwise
• repaired or remodeled, so as to answer
intended, and to be worn with perfectease.
inserted or, pivot, or the whole set on
P’- *>th artificial gums’ if necessary.
^vin devoted several years exclusively to J eV()lion8i by those whom he desired to im-
- "Win profession, with an extensive practice u no. .
P unches, flatters himself, that to those who press with an idea or his sanctity. 1 torget
^ themselves of his services, entire satisfac-
’ e rp ndered. In ending to make this place
Jnt residence, his prices will conform to the
operations performed by him will be
4 perfect.
leg Will ’f j
"Villi r.’'■'“sired, he waited upon at their resi-
io the country visited without ex
| other matters of interest, his queties were
numerous.
He was a bad sitter to an artist, and ne
ver kept in one position three minutes to
gether. Now he would turn on one side,
and then on another—at very short inter- i
-1845
23 tf
press
now half of the anecdotes and tales he told
us, but they were very interesting. He
| had a quick perception of the ludicrous, and
i told a story well; but he was vain of his
( deeds, and of the power which he once
1 possessed. His description of the famous
j Peterloo Massacre was very graphic, but it
I would possess little interest here, and I
the first speaker in the House. As a deha
ter Brougham must yield to him ; and as a
lawyer he is not to he compared with him.
Both are men of vast acquirements, but
Lyndhurst’s intuitive knowledge surpasses
that which has been acquired by his great
rival.
Near Lyndhurst sits the Duke of Wel
lington—that is him in a blue frock coat,
closely buttoned np to his chin, with his
left hand behind his ear, and placed there,
seemingly, for the purpose of assisting
his hearing, by acting as a sort of trumpet.
His right hand holds his hat, which is plac
ed on his knee. A very clever sketch of
him recently appeared in one of the illus
trated London papers. It represents him
in this, his usual position iu the House, and
as a likeness, 1 would rather have it than
many costly engravings of him. The
Duke appears quite the old man—but
glance at his tough looking countenance—
his determined looking nose, and his firm
vals he would rise and examine the picture, j mouth, and you will perceive that his frame
and frequently make tiifling remarks, or j has much stamina in it yet. His hair and
suggest improvements—the disposition of
his stubby hair was a source of much anx
iety to him, and he more than once had the
position of the right arm altered. Fre
quently, whilst he was sitting, letters were
brought him, which he read with great ra
pidity, and to some of them he scrawled
answers, with railroad velocity; indeed, he
was continually on the mnve, and I believe
my friend was heartily glad when he had
accomplished his task. Brougham very
whiskers are grey, but the fire of his eye is
undimmed. As a speaker, he does not
particularly shine, but what he does say is
to the point. All that firmness and decis
ion is displayed which we may easily be
lieve are distinguishing traits of his charac
ter.—His speeches are curt and business
like affairs.—There is no more attempt at
oratorical display than if he were giving
the word of command, at the head of an
army. If one did not know him to be the
Duke, he would be set down as some little
member attendingtobusiness of theGovern-
ment, and excite scarcely a passing remark.
But as the Duke, the greatest respect is
shown him by ail parties, and marked at
tention is paid to every word which he ut
ters.
No one in London streets attracts great
er attention than the Duke. Wherever
he is recognized, every hat is touched, and
if he happens to be on foot, he is followed
by crowds eager to catch a glimpse of the
Hero of Waterloo. No stranger who
visits London considers that he has seen all
the “Lions,” if he has not caught a glimpse
of the Duke. In illustration of this re
mark, I may mention one circumstance.—
A lady of my acquaintance, on the morning
of her intended departure from London,
after a short visit, was walking with a
friend in Hyde Park, near Apsley House,
one morning, as early as six o’clock. As
they walked along, she said, “Well, I have
seen everything I wanted to see in Lon
don excepting the Duke of Wellington,
and I would rather have seen him than all
the rest.” She uttered this remark in a
loud, sprightly voice, little dreaming that
any but her friend heard it. Immediately,
however, a genilemen passed her, raised
his hat, and smilingly said, “Madam, I am
happy to present him to you,” and, again
bowing, passed on, followed, at a little
distance, by his groom. There was uo
mistaking the personage \frhospoke. It was
the Duke himself, and I need hardly say,
that the lady was, in spite of her confusion,
not a little gratified by the incident.
It would be uninteresting to readers on
this side of the water, were I to enter into
any description of the personal appearances,
or mental qualifications of such men as the
Dukes of Devonshire, Richmond, Bucking
ham, and others of that class and order—
indeed, the House of Lords must be singu
larly barren of interest to Americans. Nor
shall I occupy time or space, by any notices
of members of the bench of Bishops—they
are generally portly looking gentlemen,
well wigged, and dressed very much like
old women, in black gowns and lawn
sleeves. The Bishop of Exeter. Dr. Phill-
potis, is the most knowing-looking of the
uumber—whilst the face of the Archbishop
of Canterbury is the very pattern of Eccle
siastical bearing and propriety.
The Judges are a solemn looking series
of individuals—bound in scarlet and ermine.
In Denman’s face there is as much real
dignity and majesty, as in that of any
ancient statue which I ever saw. Wil
liams’ physiognomy is indicative only of a
certain wliipper snapper, sort of smartness.
Maule’s looks as if it were difficult for
him to repress a smile. Parke’s is massive
and solemn. Rolfe’s, full of benevolent
acuteness; but Coleridge’s is actually
beautiful. Some months since, in an article
in Blackwood’s Magazine—Warren, author
of the Diary of a late Physician desciibed
it—I do not exactly remember the words,
and 1 have not the work by me to refer to,
—but it was to the effect, that Coleridgb’s
features bore a most, perfect resemblance
to the faces of ihe Saviour, which we see
in some of the paintings by the old masters.
I have looked on Coleridge’s countenance
often, and seen fresh beauty in it at every
new glance. As a Judge, he ranks high,
but not higher than his deservings. With
a heart brimming over with human kind
ness, he possesses all the firmness requisite
for his high position. Once I heard him
pass sentence of death upon a poor wretch
—the Judge’s large full eye swam with
tears, and his face was deadly pale. I
qustion if the criminal felt more agony than
his earthly Judge.—He is nephew of the
poet and philosopher, S. T. Colei idge,
whose genius seems to have been to a
great extent hereditary.
But ihe Lords are “up,” let us go down
to the Commons, where Macaulay, they
say, is now “on his legs.”—Boston Atlas.
Jlri. Caudle’s Curlaiu Lecture*.
Baby is to be Christened; Mrs. Caudle
canvasses the merits of pi obable Godfa
thers.
Come, now, love, about baby’s name ?—
The dear thing’s three months old, and not
a name to its hack yet. There you go
again ! Talk of it to-morrow 1 No ; we’ll
talk of it to-night. There’s no having a
word with you in the day time—but here,
you can’t leave me. Now don’t say you
wish you could, Caudle ; that's unkind, and
not treating a wife—especially the wife l
am to you—as she deserves. It isn’t often
that I speak ; but I do believe, you’d like
never to hear the sound of my voice. I
might as well have been born dumb.
I suppose the baby must have a godfa
ther ; and so, Caudle, who shall we have I—
Who do you think will be able to do the
most for it 1 No, Caudle, no ; 1 am not a
selfish woman—nothing of the sort—but 1
hone I’ve the feelings of a mother ; and
what’s the use of a godfather, if he gives
nothing else to the child hut it’s name I A
child might almost as well not he christen
ed at all. Aud so, who shall we have ?—
What do you say 1 Anybody l Arn’t you
ashamed of yourself, Caudle I Don’t you
think something will happen to you, to talk
in that way ? I don’t know where you pick
up such principles. I’m thinking who
there is among our acquaintances who can
do the most for the blessed creature, and
you say—“Anybody.” Caudle, you’re
quite a heathen.
There’s Wagstaff. No chance of his
ever martying, and he’s very fond ot ba
bies. He’s plenty of money, Caudle ; and
I think he might be got. Babies, I know
it.—are his weak side. Wouldn’t it be a
blessed thing to find our dear child in his
will 1 Why don’t you speak 1 1 declare,
Caudle, you seem to care no more for the
child, than if it was a stranger’s. People
who can’t love children more than you do,
ought never to have ’em. You don't like
Wagstaff ? No more do I, much ; hut
what’s that to do with it ? People who’ve
their families to provide for, musri’t think
of their feelings. I don’t like him ; but
then I’m a mother and love my baby !—
You won't have Wagstaff, and that's flat'l
Ha, Caudle ! you’ie like nobody else—not
fit tor this world, you’re not.
What do you think of Pugsby 1 I can’t
bear his wife ; but that’s nothing to do with
it. I know my duty to my babe ; I wish
other people did. What do you say ?—
Pugsby's a wicked fellow l Ha ! that’s like
you—always giving people a bad name.—
We musn’t always belive what the world
says, Caudle; it doesn’t become us as Chris
tians, to do it. I only know thac he hasn’t
chick or child ; and besides that, he’s very
strong interest in the Blue coats ; and so,
if Pugsby now don’t fly out at the man
in that manner. Caudle, you ought to be
ashamed of yonrself! You can’t speak
well of any body. Where do you think to 1 The sword was presented to General
*°wi j . . c • • , S , colt ' ( and 8urel 7 n «o«ld not have been
What do you say, then, to Smggins 1— | placed in abler or better hands ) by Dr
Now, don’t bounce round in that way. let- j James Drew McGaw, of Richmond Va *
u ng the cold air into the bed 1 What’s the as the annexed letter which we found at
tached to the sword, will testify:
matter with Sniggins 1 You wouldn't ask
him a favor for the world ! Well, it’s a
good thing the baby has somebody to care
for it; I will. What do you say ] I shan't ?
I will, I can tell you. Sniggins, besides
being a warm man, has girod interest in the
Customs ; and there’s nice pickings there, if
one only goes the right way to get ’em.—
It’s no use, Caudle, your fidgeting about—
not a bit. I’m not going to have the baby
lost; sacrificed, 1 may say, like its brothers
and sister. Wliat do I mean by sacrificed l
Oh, you know what I mean, very well.—
What have any of ’em got by their godfa
thers, beyond a half pint mug, a knife and
fork and spoon—and a shaby coat that 1
know was bought second hand ; for I could
almost swear to the place ? And then,
there was your friend Hartley’s wife—
what did she give to Caroline ? What ?—
It was the best she could afford ? Then
she’d no rQbt to stand for the child. Peo
ple who can’t do better than that, have no
business to take the responsibility of god-
| mother. They ought to know their duties
better.
Well, Caudle, you can’t object to Gold
man ! Yes, you do ! Was there ever
such a man ! What for 1 He's a usurer
and a hunks / Well, I’m sure vou’ve no
business in this world, Caudle ; you have
such high flown notions. Why, isn’t the
man as rich as the bank ? And as tor his
being a usurer—isn’t it all the better for
those who come after him? I’m sure it’s
well there’s some people in the world who
save money; seeing the stupid creatures that
throw it away. But you are the strangest
man ! I really believe you think money a
sin, instead of the greatest blessing; for 1
can’t mention any of our acquaintance that’s
rich—and I’m sure we don’t know too ma
ny such people—that you haven’t some
thing to say against ’em. It’s only beggars
that you like—people with not a shilling
to bless themselves. Ha ! though you’re
my husband, I must say it—you’re a man of
low notions, Caudle. I only hope none of
the dear boys will take after their father.
And I should like to know what’s the ob
jection to Goldman ? The only thing
against him is his name ; I must confess it,
I don’t like the name of Lazarus ; iis low,
and doesn’t sound genteel—not at all re
spectable. But after he’s gone, and done
what’s proper for the child, the boy could
easily slip Lazarus intoLawrence. I’m told
the thing’s done often. No, Caudle, don’t
9ay that—I’m not a mean woman ; certain
ly not; quite the reverse. I’ve only a pa
rent’s love for my children ; and I must say
it—I wish every body felt as l did.
I suppose if the truth was known, you’d
like your tobacco-pipe friend, your pot-
companinn, Piettyman, to stand for the
child? You'd have no objections] I thought ces in his Cabinet ?
Washington, May 2. 1S44.
. Dear Sir:—I had the honor to re-
ceive your letter in January; but the swotd
of Pulaski accidentally remained at Rich
mond, until the last week.
1 accept trom you, my ancient fiiend,
this interesting relic of two revolutions,
with the emotions belonging t n these great
events. In the hands of ihe illustiious
Pole, this was the weapon of Liberty on
two continents; it was first unsheathed in
the glorious attempt to free his/nalive coun
try, and it was again in hand when he
nobly fell at Savannah, fighting for the
blessings bequeathed to us hy our father?.
During life I shall preserve the sword of
Pulaski as an object dear lo freedom, cour
age and country, and dying, leave directions
that it he deposited iu hands more wotthy
and durable.
With the greatest respect and esteem.
I remain, truly, your friend,
WINFIELD SCOTT.
To Dr. James Drew McGaw.
Richmond, Virginia.
Washington, July 1S45
To the Editor of the Baltimore Patriot :
Ihe opinion still pretty generally pre
vails here, I believe, that Mr. Polk designs
to he a candidate for re-election to the Pre
sidency—notwithstanding the frequent de
clarations of the organ to the contrary. Of
course, it would upset all his plans and de
feat his object, directly to avow the fact,
or direct the organ to avow it! On the
other hand, his object is nursed and for
warded by the occasional declaiatiims of
the “ Union,” that Mr. Polk is not a candi
date for re-election—that he w ill not favor
the claims ol any aspirant, noith, south,
east or west—and that his only ambition is
to administer the Government for a single
term in the best possible manner. Any
day in the future, it m3y be found expedient
to change the organ’s tune, and cause it to
say, iu the recent unguarded language of
Edilor-Pnstmaster Bagg, of Detroit, that
“ circumstances may arise which will make
it necessary for the party to nominate and
run Mr. Polk for re-election." And when
such day arrives, who will say the “ Union”
will not be found ready and even eager to
echo the sentiment ?
If Mr. Polk’s design has not been to let
the war among the rival aspirants in his
party for the succession take its course, so
that he might be left the only man upon
whom the rival factions could unite, why
did he bargain with Mr. Buchanan and
Mr. Walker and compel them to sign an
agreement in black and white that I hey
would not be condidates for the Presiden
cy in 1848, before he w r ould give them pla-
not! Yes ; I knew what it was coming to.
He’s a beggar, he is—and a person who
slays out half the night—yes, he does ; and
it’s no use your denying it—a beggar and
a tipler—and that’s the man you’d make
godfather to your own flesh and blood !—
Upon my word, Caudle, it’s enough to
make a woman get up and dress herself, to
hear you talk.
Well, I can only tell you, if you won’t
have Wagstaff, or Pugsby, or Sniggins, or
Goldman or somebody that’s respectable, to
do what’s proper, the child shan’t be chris
tened at all. As for Prettyman, or any
such raff—no, never ! I’m sure there’s a
certain set of people that poverty’s catch
ing from, and that Prettyman’s one of’em.
Now, Caudle, I won’t have my child lost
by any of your spittoon acquaintance, I
can tell you.
No ; unless I can have my way, the child
shan’t, he christened at all. What do you
say ? It must have a name ? There’s no
“must” at all in the case—none. No; it
shall have no name ; and then see what
the world will say. I’ll call it Number
Six—yes, that will do as well as anything
else, unless I’ve the godfather I like.—
In reply, it may he urged that he also
made Messrs. Marcy, Bancroft, Johnson
and Mason sign a similar agieement, and
that he made them all sign the pledge in
order to keep them out of the scramble for
the succession. But this proves nothing in
favor of the ground assumed by those who
are made to declare that Mr. Polk is not a
candidate for re-election. It rather proves
that he has bought up Messrs. Buchanan
and Walker (there was nothing to fear in
that line from the other Cabinet officeis !)
and made them pledge themselves not to
he in his way at the next Presidential elec
tion.
I recently conversed with a distinguished
politician from the Southwest, who had
just been travelling through a pottion of
Tennessee and Kentucky, and he inform
ed me that it was well understood in those
Slates that something would transpire to
make it necessary for Mr. Polk to yield his
consent to stand as a candidate for re-elec
tion. I give you this information simply as
an item corroborative of the impression
which generally, I believe, (as I have al
ready observed,) prevails here at this time.
In a former letter, I suggested that the
Number Six Caudle, ha ! ha ! I think that j Locofoco party in the next Con gress, might
must make you ashamed of yourself, if any j be induced not only to withhold the puh.ic
thing can. Number Six Caudle—a much j printing from the “Union,” and thereby
better name than Mr. Prettyman can give ; j exhibit a determination not to indirectly
yes, Number Six. What do you say ?— elect the President of the Uuited States
Anything but dumber Seven1 Oh, Cau- printer to Congress, but to call upon Mr.
die, if ever j p u lk to resign the reigns of Government
At this moment,” writes Caudle, “baby 1
began to cry; and, taking advantage of the
happy accident, I somehow got to sleep.”
The Sword of Polnski.
During a recent visit to Washington, we
called for a few moments at the quarters of
the Commander-in-chief of the Army, Maj.
General Scott. While in his room, our at
tention was attracted by a plain leather
scahbatd, sabre fashioned sword, hanging
against the wall; and upon enquiry, we were
informed that it was the sword which once
belonged to Pulaski, and had been worn
and used by him, not only in the endeavor
to free his own gallant, down tiodden coun
trymen from the yoke of slavery—but it was
also used—and bravely and nobly used, in
the defence of our own dear land, fighting
for the liberties we enjoy.
We looked upon this relic of the times
that tried men’s souls— with feelings of
deep and profound veneration. In imasin-
irito the hands of Mr. Vice President Dal
las ! The “ Union” hoots at the sugges
tion ! But let us see if there is not some
ground for such a surmise. How is it with
the Southern wing of the party, whose dis
tinguished champion, Mr. Calhoun, was
unceremoniously thrust out of the Cabinet
of the man whom the Chivalry had made
Piesident, and that too in the midst of the
Oregon negotiations ! Would not Mr. Cal
houn and his leading friends rejoice to see
Mr. Polk surrendering the reins of Gov
ernment to a man more firm, resolute, and
able to guide them? The refusal of Cal
houn, Elmore, Pickens and Woodbury, to
take the Mission to England, when succes
sively tendered to them, would certainly
seem to say as much. The whole of the
proscribed Calhoun party, in fact, are emi
nently dissatisfied with Mr. Polk, and
would rejoice to get rid of him any day.
And how is it with Gov. Cass and his
friends in the Northwest ? They think
ation, we saw the noble Pole at tho head j the Governor ought to have received the
of his invincible brother band, charging like J Baltimore nomination, last year, and they
a thunderbolt, amid the Yanks of our coun-' mean that he shall not be tiicked out of it
try’s foes at Brandywine—and again at! next time. They know-that they are strong
Germantown, fighting like a tiger amid the ; in numbers, and feel that they have fceeu
fog and smoke of the battle—fighting al- i most signally slighted. To-day, at any
most against hope; and as we held the good (time, they would with one voice make the
blade in our hands, we fancied we could | hills and vallies, the lakes and prairies or
see it flashing in the sulphurous light of( the mighty Northwest ring wiih shouts of
the battle, like a meteor star amid the gloom j gladness, could Mr. Polk be made to resign
and darkness of the storm. And far above i iu favor of Mr. Dallas ; notwithstanding
the din and confusion—the yells of defiance,
the shouts of the victors, far above the roar
of artillery and the rattling of musketry, we
fancied vve could hear hiA battle-shout rol
ling up firmly and cbeeiingly from beneath
the dust and fog and smoke of battle, “For
wards', brudei n,forwai ds !”
And, yet once again, the sword seemed
to.emit a strange, unearthly light, as ima
gination carried us to the plains of Savan
nah—we.saw him once again, charging a-
mid the serried ranks of Britain—again
his sword gleamed aloft; again his bat
tle shout rang out upon the air—again his
proud eye flashed with the hope of victory
the latter, being an abler and a bolder de
structive, might do far more mischief to ihe
country. They at least w-ant a man that
they can find.
And what says that portion of the party
whose leaders are Messrs. Benton, Blair
and Rives,etcetera? Does not Col. Benton
say openly, 1 “the party made a mistake,
sir, in nominating Mr. Polk—they commit
ted a-blunder, sir! a cross blunder—he
lacks the proper materials, sir, lo give char
acter to the nation and satisfaction to the
democratic party!” Does not Mr. Blair
readily express his fears that “Young Hick
ory” will undo what “Old Hickory” so
another moment he had fought his last | triumphantly accomplished for the honor
fight—be had made his last death-dealing j and spoils of ‘ democracy.”
cliarge—his sword was changed from a! And does not John C. Rives deliver
thing of fire to a thing of steel—his last i speeches and read lettes written hy Gene'
shout for liberty had gone up to the throne
of the eternal, and his flashing eye was
closed in death. Peace to hts ashes—ever
lasting honor and fame to the memory of
the noble, and the gallant son of Poland.
ral Jackson just before he Hied, reflecting
in strong terms upon Mr- Polk’s conduct,
and complaining of his acts! Would Dot
these gentlemen, Messrs. Benton, Blair
and Rives, and those who follow their lead,
