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quor, lie cursed her, and died while a curse
against himself hung upon his lips. The
daughter did not leave the spot before mid
night, and her cries appalled the stoutest
hearts around her. Twenty dollars were
raised among the spectators, but when hand
ed to her, she exclaimed, “No! no! give
me my father!”
Poor girl, she called in vain.
The Gambler. —Do not associate with the
gambler. You will seldom tind a virtuous
ora sober man who follows the business of
gaming for a living. To keep company
with such is to lie a companion ot intemper
ance, idleness and theft. The young man
who occasionally gambles, may not us yet
have become all that is vile and sickening in
human nature —hut he is fast approaching
the acme of wretchedness and guilt; an.l
unless he break away at once from this vice,
there is no hope for him. Ilis passion for
play wtllmorease —but as the means for grat
ifying his inordinate desire become limited
by frequent indulgence, lie resorts to dis
honest means to procure funds to expend at
the gaming table. Never invite the games
ter to your house. Show him by your cool
ness that you detest his employment—and
that unless he will tear himself away from
the infatuation that binds him to vice, you
for one cannot claim him as a friend or asso
ciate. Better be immured within the walls
of a penitentiary, than to take for your inti
mate companion a man of this character.
The heart of many a wife is made sad, by
the conduct of her husband, who now spends
his days and his nights, with his infutuated
companions around the billiard table. Her
sufferings, almost intolerable, are kept with
in her own bosom. Sleep is driven from
her. And when, long after the clock lias
told the hour of midnight, her husband re
turns, his breath and actions betray that the
inebriating glass has been no stranger tohim.
O, the agony of that wife! Who—who would
be united to a gambler? Young woman,
never, O never keep him company. If you
do your misery will be inevitable.
A Hint to Girls. —We have always con
sidered it an unerring sign of innate vulgar
ity, when we hear ladies take especial pains
to impress us with the idea of their igno
rance of all domestic matters, save sewing
lace or weaving a net to incase their delicate
hands. Ladies, by some curious kind of
hocus-pocus have got it into their heads that
the best way to catch a husband is to show
liow profoundly capable they are of doing
nothing for his comfort. Frightening a pi
nnointo fits or murderingthe King’s French,
may be good bait for certain kinds of fish,
but they must be of that kind usually found
in very shallow water. The surest way to
secure a good husband is to cultivate those
accomplishments which make a good wife ;
read sensible works, learn all matter of
domestic economy—sew, knit and spin—
bake, wash and brew—do up collars, shirts
and bosoms; and attend to all those other
little nameless things which, though trivial
in themselves, show a wife’s watchful care
of her husband's personal comfort, and her
ability to make his homo one of peace and
substantial pleasure.
From the St. Augustine News, 20th inst.
HONORS TO THE DEAD.
The burial of Major F. D. Dade’s martyr
ed dead, and those Officers and Soldiers
who have died in Florida, took place on
Monday last. So solemn and interesting an
event excited on the part of our citizens the
liveliest sympathy and feeling, and afforded
them by joining in with the military, the
heartfelt satisfaction of commingling their
tears in union with those, who had assem
bled to pay the last sad duties of love to
their fallen comrades. At half past 10, a
gun was filed from the battery in front of
the green, by a detail of 3d Artillery under
Lieut. Churchill, when the Mayor and Coun
cil, the Masonic Fraternity, St. Augustins
City Guards, Capt. P. R. Lopez, proceeded
to the St. Sebastian Bridge, to await the ar
rival of the remains. In a short time, the
melancholy wail of music was heard in the
distance—the bright glitter of arms was
seen glancing among the deep green of the
woods, and the wagons covered with the
stars and stripes, containing nil that was of
the honored dead, moved slowly onward.
It was indeed a brilliant, a melancholy spec
tacle. On arriving at the public square, the
cortege wheeled to the right, and proceeding
up George-street, continued down to St.
Francis-street, when moving up Marine
street they were brought to the spot appro
priated for intermenj, the garden at St. Fran
cis’ Barracks. The procession under the
orders of Major Belknap, Sth Infantry.
Capt. G wynne, Sth Infantry, commanding
the escort, Lieut. A. T. Lee, Acting Adju
tant.
[The remains were contained in seven
wagons, each covered by the American Flag
as a pall, and drawn by five elegant mules.
The first and second wagons contained the
soldiers and officers under Dade’s command
—the third and fourth, the soldiers and offi
cers killed in battle—the fifth, sixth and
seventh, the officers who have died in Flo
rida.
The escort was composed of companies
A, C and K, Sth Infantry, company F, 4th
Infantry, companies]! and E, 3d Artillery,
Guard of Honor under command of Lieut.
Wallen, Officers of the Army as pall hearers,
Medical faculty, Mayot and Alderman of
St.Augußtine, Membersof the Bar and Civil
officers, Masonic fraternity, St. Augustine
City Guards, and citizens generally.]
The remains being removed from the
wagons, amid the firing of minute guns, the
Rev. Mr. Waters of the Catholic Church,
addressed the assembled multitude with
great eloquence and beauty. The services
of the Episcopal Church was read by John
Beard, Esq., and a concluding prayer offer
ed by the Rev. Henry Axtell. The remains
were then placed in vaults prepared for
their reception ; and after a salute of mus
quetry, the troops retired, and were march
ed into quarters. The Masonic fraternity
proceeded from the tombs to the Presby
terian Church, where a monody on the dead
was pronounced by D. W, Whitehurst, Esq.
Half hour guns were fired until sun-set,
closing the solemnities of the day.
And thus closed the honors awarded the
victims of Indian treachery, battle and dis
ease. From the Withlacoochee, whose
hanks have drank the blood of Izard, to the
Okachobee, the field of fame as of death—
from the plain where untimely fell Mellon,
McNeil, and Sanderson, to the rivers of our
Atlantic border —lias the earth given up in
partite dead, to rest among us. The stream,
the lake, the margin of our rivers, had wit
nessed the daring of these gallant spirits—
the open pine barren had resounded with
the fire of their musketry, and the grass
water heard their rifles in the discharge of
duty. Gathered by their companions in
danger and glory, from the recesses of the
forest and the solitude of the plain, to rest
amid the habitations of man and civilized
life, we leave them—sepulchered among the
green of the orange tree and the aroma of
its flower, with the shadow of our country’s
Hag, as its folds catch the breeze from the
staff of the cupalo resting on their tomb,
amid the booming morning gun, the clear
note of the bugle, the music of the drum,
the ring of the musket, and the quarters of
the garrison. Fitting home for the maty red
and honored dead ? And when we, who
have been the witnesses of this melancholy
scene, shall have passed away —when the
wilds of our border shall have again bloom
ed with culture, and its solitude send forth
the busy hum of men, and the song of thanks
giving in greatful voices be heard in the land
O D ” , ,
—that hallowed ground will be the resting
spot of the pilgrim, as he bends at the se
pulchre of the dead ! from which, if the
fires of his patriotism should ever grow cold,
will he kindled anew as he treads the sacred
abiding place of their honored remains.
The tombs, three in number, erected by
the troops of the Post, in which the remains
are deposited, are vaults, each about fen
feet square, surrounded by a pyramid of five
feet in height, rising from a grassy mound,
enclosing the body of the tomb. It is de
signed to cover these pyramids entirely
with marble, on which will be placed the
names of all other officers who have died or
been killed in Florida, in addition to those
deposited beneath.
©UO©O M & L □
For the “Southern Miscellany.”
STANZAS.
BY HENRY R. JACKSON.
I.
While Winter winds are whistling through
The ebon corridors of night.
We gather closer to the hearth
And fan its embers into light;
I love yonr merry laughter, boys,
Oh ! let your shout be loud and long!
Pass round again the pleasant joke,
And sing for me your sweetest song!
It.
And I shall live my boyhood o’er,
And see around me, side by side,
The shadows of my early friends—
The loved—the lost —the wept-sor —glide,
Glide—wiili the forms of oihcr years—
Tiie step of nir—the glance of light;
And they shall sing for me their song.
Their well remembered song, to night!
111.
For oh ! it echoes in my dreams—
Sweet music o'er the tide of years—
And 1 have woke and found my eyes
Filled brimful with the gushing tears ;
Woke! but to mourn it hushed and gone —
For scaltered is that brave, young host
Along the ocean-waste of life—
Too few, alas! not tempest-tost!
IV,
And where Joy sowed for them her flowers
And watered with Hope’s golden bowl,
Care trains his deadly Upas up
To blast the garden of the soul,
And breaks the jEolinn harp of bliss
That thrilled so soil, so sweet a strain!
Alas ! alas ! that happy band
Shall never sing their song again !
v.
But you arc wemied with the tale—
Go seek some new and livelier game,
And leave me here alone to gaze
In silence os the flickering flame ;
To gaze—and learn that ns it dies,
And chilling Night-shades round me start,
So fades the summer bliss of youth,
And falls the Winter of the heart!
Savannah, Georgia.
For the “ Southern Miscellany.”
THE PERFECTION OF MIND.
The progressive advancement of the hu
man mind, and its susceptibility of indefinite
improvement, lias been a theme for ideal
theorists to display their wildest imaginings
—for skeptical philosophers and heaven-in
spired bards to exhibit their richest mine of
satire and of song. The opinion that man is
physically and intellectually degenerating
from his primeval vigor and strength—that
Fancy hath wove her fairest garlands of the
brightest flowers—that Science hath perused
and Judgment criticised all the mighty man
uscripts of magnificent truths that haveslum
bered for cycles in nature’s deep archives—
that the heart hasexpended itstenderest sen
sibilities—this theory lays an icy finger up
on man’s holiest emotions, and restrains with
Alpine barriers his highest aspirations.
A French* metaphysician has divided all
impressions, produced by external objects,
on the mind, into two prominent classes—
Sensation and Ideas. The one, simply ex
erting a transitory influence upon the present
actions and deportment of the sentient be
ing; and, no matter in wliat numbers he re
ceives them, or by what objects produced,
each one comes, passes through, and disap
pears alone, traversing the bleak solitude of
mind without peopling its desert plains.—
The latter is permanent and indestructible ;
and contain in themselves the germ of their
own perpetuity. Each gem of truth, pluck
ed by reflection and comprehensive thought
from the mass of ignorance—though its bril
-1 liancy may he tarnished by the rubbish of
time, and its lustre dimmed by incumbent
ages—yet its color will eventually be restor
ed and add one treasure to the mighty mag-
I * Benjamin Constant is here alluded to: whether his
philosophy is true or false the reader must determine.
a - <d-nr warn IB h af'ao©ißiLiLAST^r
•
azine of mind. Ideas may be forgotten for
a considerable period of time, but never can
be entirely annihilated. Like the hanks of
our great rivers in the west, when dislodged
from their position by the impetuous enemy
of the swolen torrent, the spectator beholds
it borne tesistlessly on the raging waters,
and perhaps it is forgotten ; but could he
follow in its headlong course onward, and
onward, and onward, he would behold a part
impeded in its progress by the projecting
branch of a fallen trunk long mouldering in
the stream : particle after particle is added
to this common nucleus,until,finally,a broad
and beautiful island blooms luxuriently be
fore the bewildered beholder. The modest
daisy that, in its primal state, dropped each
morning’s dewy tears in the passing stream,
here unfolds its beauties to the blushing
morn ; the acorn here rises from its long
dormant state, and in the expansive and ma
jestic oak declares it is nourished by a more
genial soil, and warmed by a brighter sun.
Tis so with ideas; one age germinates them,
a second brings them forth, while a third is
enraptured with beholding the inscription,
“ Complete perfection,” stamped upon its
imperishable front. The oriental shepherd
as he teinldd his flocks on green declivities,
and watched the stars that lighted Chaldea’s
plains, studied the rudimcntal pages of that
science which, under Newton’s herculean
hand, is now written on every planet and
seen in every revolving sun. Thus, the ear
lier generations stood upon the insensible
ashes of their progenitors, and after spend
ing their brief existence in theorising and
speculating—after years of toil and trouble,
and intense application, their mental drudg
ery was only remunerated by the revelation
of lacts which to us, at this day, appear clear
and indubitable. Another generation suc
ceeds them, and beginning with the impor
tant truths discovered by the indefatigable
exertions of their fathers, they gird them
selves to the task of progressive improve
ment, by striving to unlock nature’s secrets
from her store house, and make the horizon
of knowledge as comprehensive as possible.
Since this is true, that each succeeding age,
enriched by the researches of its predeces
sors, commences anew the investigation of
the universe, and traverses the fairy fields of
science, where flowers ever bloom in virgin
freshness, what ptesumptuous autocrat £rill
dare define the limit of mind’s progress, or
circumscribe the boundaries of its heaven
ward flight ? Hail bright auspicious morn!
Hail to thee, blissful period, when not only
every component atom of God’s grand work
manship shall breathe in clear and audible
tones its long hidden truths from the retort,
the compass and the crucible, but when
man’s more ignoble passions shall be sub
servient to judgment’s better sway, and im
mortality in virtue commence her long an
ticipated millenium.
“Then shall the reign of mind commence on earth
And starting fresh as from a second birth,
Man in the sunshine of the world’s new spring,
Shall walk transparent like some holy thing.”
To us, at this day, a country, a city, a
hearth, has been a home; but” when that
Augustain age shall at last arrive, man’s
home will be wherever the intellect can
pierce, vivid fancy soar, or the spirit breathe
the air. The organic perfectibility of the
vegetable world is admitted by all scientific
Botanists. The vital principle forming the
vermeil tints of the violet that bloomed and
blushed in the bowers of paradise is still seen
in the perennial greenness of the ivy and
the matchless beauty of the daliah. Is na
ture mindful of the flowers of the field, and
oblivions to the sublimer existence of senti
ent, rational man ? Shall the flowers flour
ish in unfading loveliness forever, without
the vital principle becoming annihilated, and
the duration of man he circumscribed by the
narrow limits of a day ? Far frpm it. Our
prominent benefit of the incalculable advan
tages resulting from this comprehensive
range of mind, will he the indefinite prolon
gation of man’s existence, which will endure
almost till the “feathered feet of time” shall
grow weary of his ceaseless circles.
“ Then, like a useless and worn out machine,
It rots, perishes and passes.”
If this “ pleasing hope, this fond desire,
this longing after immortality,” is presump
tive proof of an ulterior existence beyond
the silent halls of death, why may not the in
stinctive abhorrence—the faultering steps —
with which even the sincere prosolyte of the
Nazarine approaches the dusky confines of
the tomb, as conclusively demonstrate that
man desires not earthly immortality in vain ;
that the elixir of life is no JJtopian dogma of
the poetic past —no chimera of a heated
brain. If an error, ’tis one venerable by
time, and sanctioned by authority. Sir H.
Davy believed that the Philosopher’s Stone
could be discovered. Is the elixir of life—
the fountain of perpetual youth—sought by
Ponce de Leon, in the “Land of Flowers,”
more irrational, more absurd ? Why, even
while writing—though advocating a doctrine
repugnant to the common sense of the day—
does hundreds of my readers anxiously wish
they were listening to the tones of some
prophet whose miraculous deeds were the
seals of his mission ; perusing the responses
of some oracle, whose issues were heavenly
truths rather than the wild phantasy of an
unknown writer. Why does the aged vet
eran—his brow furrowed by the corroding
touch of time, his form bent by the incum
bent weight of many winters—turn a retro
spective glance to the halcyon days and san
guine hopes of boyhood, when he was tho’t
less and happy, with his palsied hand eleva
ted to heaven and the large tears coursing
down his care-worn cheeks, exclaim ‘Would
that it were true V Why does a cloud mar
the May-day beauty of the lover’s young
dream, when, for the first time, he clasps his
blushing bride to his throbbing bosom, and
the thrilling thought flashes through his mind
that age with its attendant cares will soon
steal o’er him. the grave will envelop that
form of faultless symmetry, and the worm
banquit upon those witching charms that
might even lure a seraph from his sphere ?
Whv does he wish that the airy dream of
the Rosicrucian could be realized ]
“ Tis the divinity that stirs within him”—
“ Tis coming events casting their shadows before"-
’Tis nature prompting him to abhor that ter
ruination of a too brief existence which art
will one day indefinitely protract.
One fact wc havo metaphysically deter-
mined, that mind will eventually attain to
perfection. The argument might be made
more conclusive hv tracing the progressive
march of mind from its cradle in the Eust to
the manly vigor it has displayed in modern
days. Time, however, is wanting. The
brevity of man’s existence is the result of ig
norance. Antedeluvian longevity is ascrib
able almost entirely to a more rigid adhe
rence to the organic laws of the system. —
Licentiousness and luxury were unknown
to the patriarch of the elder world. Strange
as the assertion may appear, yet death is
either the result of ignorance or of a wanton
violation of those organic laws which expe
rience has discovered. When I apply my
mind assiduously to the investigation of an
abstruse mathematical problem a head-ache
is the consequence. If I exercise my limbs
to excess in any athletic amusement, a gen
eral lassitude and debility to the whole sys
tem ensues. When unconsciously I drink
Prussic acid, the subtle poison instantaneous
ly exerts its withering influence upon the
fountain of life, and its warm current is quick
ly checked. In all these cases, and in every
other, diseases ate engendered in the sys
tem through the instrumentality of one of
the two causes above mentioned. Had I
known the proper amount of tension requi
site for a healthy stale of the mind, or the
injurious properties of Prussic acid, the
headach and death would have been sever
ally avoided. Combe himself, admits that
if men regulated their lives rigidly by the
organic laws, their final destination would
be caused by the slow and gradual wasting
away of the human frame; and who will
doubt if these laws were thoroughly uder
stood—if the chemical properties of the
different kinds of aliment that nutrifies the
physical organization were perspicuously
defined, and obeyed, who shall say that
man’s existence would not be indefinitely
prolonged—that he would survive almost
until the astral worlds shall fade from time,
and the sun himself “grow dim with age.”
When mind attains to perfection, these
laws will he known—the sun of science
will approximate to the zenith, and thou
sands of his worshippers awake from their
long apathy, to catch “light, life, and rap
ture” from his rays. ’Tis true the bowers
of Eden once echoed and trembled to the
edict of the Almighty, “ Dust thou art, and
unto dust thou shalt return:”
O’er which the raven flaps his funeral wing.”
Far be it from me to “rejudge His judg
ments and be the God of God;” but this
law like all others contained in his holy
word, will continue unrecalled, until the
functions performed by these enactments in
the moral world will be discharged by the
enactor in person. That period will be
when the millenia] sun shall burst in daz
zling splendor upon the world. That thrice
hallowed era will be the joyous time when
the theory I am now feebly advocating will
be practically demonstrated—when this
phantasy of a stranger’s brain will possess
“ a local habitation and a name. To prove
this let facts drawn from the great reservoir
of truth be submitted to a rational l eader.
I have recently perused with much pleas
ure, the interesting controversy upon the
subject of the Millenium, in the “Christian
Advocate;” and although differing itt some
particulars with both the disputants, Messrs.
Cox and Whedon, nevertheless I agree
with the Rev. Mr. Whedon in placing the
Millenium prior, and not subsequent to the
second coming of Christ. I maintain in the
first place, that during that period men will
survive one thousand years, and it is mo/e
than probable this longevity will result from
the discovery of the elixir of life. In the
second place, Condoreet’s favorite theory of
the perfection of mind, (which I have weak
ly sustained,) will be fully developed, and
his most visionary hopes more than realized".
“Brief let me he.” The inspired penmen of
the sacred Scriptures, when speaking of the
millennium, says, “ No man shall say unto
his neighbor, knowest thou the Lord ? but
all shaii know itim from the least even to the
greatest.” And again, “ They shall not hunt
nor destroy in all my holy mountains ; for
the earth shall be full of the knowledge of
the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” Quo
tations could be multiplied to establish the
fact that, during the millennium,all tnen will
be perfectly righteous —“ Christ will reign in
every heart.” If then, all men are not per
fectly righteous, then Christ does not reign
in every heart, for the regency will be divi
ded with the devil. The sea is thoroughly
filled with water ; so every man will be tho
roughly imbued, not only with the theoreti
cal, hut the saving knowledge of the Lord.
This fact, then, is conclusively established :
all men at that time will be sinless Christians.
But by “ one man sin entered the world,
and death by sin ;” sin, therefore, is the
cause of death. If you remove the cause,
the effect will cease, as well in Ethics as in
Nataral Philosophy. The cause will be re
moved during the millennium, for all men
will be sinless Christians; therefore, (and the
conclusion is irresistable,) there will he no
deaths for one thousand years. The Almighty
has not suspended the laws of nature, or, in
other words, worked a miracle for more than
fifteen hundred years : it is more than pro
bable he never will again, as the necessity
for such displays of power has been forever
removed. To what, then, can we ascribe
this uncommon prolongation of man’s phys
ical being ? Tis the effect of human agen
cy. Chemists tell us that the interminable
wilderness of worlds,
—— “At whose immensity
Even soaring fancy staggers,”
“ and all that in them are,” is composed of
fifty-three simple substances. Who will say
that these fifty-three simple elements are not
themselves compounds ? Why could not
(and who shall dare assert?) the Omnipotent
chemist did not mould this multitude of
worlds from different modifications of one
simple element ? The Materia Medica is
not as complicated now as two centuries
past; every generation it is simplified and
improved. Seeing that nature exerts her
power through the instrumentality of the
fewest agents, is it not, then, more philo
sophical to suppose that in her unseen labor
atory she has compounded some one pana
cea possessing every medicinal quality, rath
er than these virtues should be scattered
through an infinitude of objects ? Let me
assure you,reader, the “Fountain of i outh”
—the Elixir of Life —Is no chimera. But
when will it be found ? Not till mind is
perfected by ages of toil. Anri where 1 Per
haps in the colored chalice of some humble
flower which the beasts of the field devour
not, and the herbalist disdains to cull. But
will nature secrete so priceless a jewel in
such an humble dwelling? Perhaps she
will ; for her proudest productions are elab
orated from materials of the roughest mould.
Under her plastic hand, the unseemly carbon
crystalizes into the glittering diamond ; the
water percolating the crevices of rocks, and
becoming impregnated with calcareous mat
ter, decorates the dome of the cavern with a
pendulous drapery of stalactites.
“Those mighty spheres that gem infinity,
And with undeviating aim,
In eloquent silence, through the depths of space,
Fursue their wondrous way,”
Science, with her mystic ken, lias taught arc
hut concentrated masses of nebulas, which
for ages have been floating like a gossamer
through the immensity of space.
I must defer till another time any remarks
upon the second position, viz : that Condor
cet’s theory will be realized, and ntind per
fected, during the millennium, with this sin
gle observation, “ en passant,” that the in
tellect must necessarily attain to maturity,
because uninfluenced by the predominance
or even existance of the baser passions. All
men will be sinless Christians. Who has
not remarked the comprehensive grasp of
thought during the hours of sleep ? ’Tis the
result of mind, when acting unbiased (in
some degree) by the shackles of matter. —
However, I must answer one objection to
my first hypothesis, and close this rather
lengthy article : “ Population left to itself
will increase in a geometrical, while the
means of sustentation can only he augment
ed in an arithmetical progression.” In oth
er words—under the fostering supervision
of a perfect government, and the duration
of human existence being so indefinitely
prolonged, the procreation of the specie’s
would be so rapid that space would not only
soon be wanting for the containment of their
bodies, but.the natural fecundity of the soil
would speedily be exhausted, arid earth re
fuse to sustain her teeming inhabitants.—
Even if this dreaded evil should ever visit
our world, wc may with Christian confidence
believe that lie Who pronounced the bles
sing, “increase and multiply,” will not then
abandon the work of his own peculiar provi
dence ; but that the world will then have ful
filled the high destiny of its creation, and
that incipient stage of immortality will begin
in which we “shall neither marry nor be
given in marriage, but be as the angels of
God.” But “ time will be merged in the
ocean of eternity” ere man’s ingenuity is so
far paralyzed as to be incapable of devising
schemes for personal maintenance. Earth’s
vast and untried resources have never been
fully developed; and thought wafted on fan
cy’s suhlimest pinion would shrink back ap
paled at the conception of those noble truths
which even now “the darkunfatlruned caves
of ocean bear.” Surely untrodden regions
of unbounded fertility—illimitable succes
sions of spicy groves, and towering forests—
trackless pastures irrigated by prolific o
ceans—rivers upon whose surfacethe proud
est traversers of Neptune’s highway might
ride securely safe—and ever-verdant isles
that float like emeralds upon crystal seas,
were not created for eternal solitude and si
lence. Lriitil these are peopled, and one
unanimous anthem like the “ mingling of
many winds” burst from the myriads of hu
man voices, in adoration of the same myste
rious Lord, the command and the blessing,
“ increase and multiply,” must continue un
recalled by its Great First Speaker. May not
Egypt’s fruitfulness again revive in more
than primeval vigor, and Palestine’s rivulets
again flow rich with “ milk and honey ?”
HARRINGTON.
Greensboro'.
For the “Southern Misctllany.”
LETTER FROM MAJOR JONES.
NO. 111.
Pineville, August 29,1542.
To Mr. Thompson :
Dear Sir —Jest as I spcctcd, only a thun
derin sight wurse ! You know I said in my
last that we wer gwine to have a betallion
muster in Pineville. Well, the muster has
tuck place, and I reckon such other doins
you never beam of afore.
I come in town the night afore, with my
regimentals in a bundle so they couldn’t he
siled by ridin, and soon as I got my breck
fast, I begin rigin out for the muster. I had
a bran new pair o’ boots, made jest a pur
pos, with long legs to ’em, and a shaperde
braw.with one of the tallest kind o’ red feth
ers in it, a blu cloth regimental cote, all titi
vated off’ with gold anil buttons, and a pair
o’ yaller britches of the finest kind. Well,
when l went to put ’em on, I couldn’t help
but cuss all the talers and shoemakers itt
Georgia. In the fust place, my britches like
to busted and wouldn’t reach moren half-way
to my jacket, then it tuck too niggers and
’bout a pint o’ soap to git my boots on ; and
my cote had skirts enuff for a bed quilt, and
stood rite strait out behind like a fan-tail*
pigin—it wouldn’t hang rite no how you
could pull it. I never was so dratted mad,
specially when tliar was no time to fix things,
for the fellers wer comitt in in gangs and be
ginin to call for me cum out and take the
cummand. Eckspectation was ris consider
able high, cause 1 was pledged to quip my
self in uniformity to the law, if I was ’lected.
Well, bimeby I went to the dorc and told
Bill Skinner and Tom Cullers to fix their
cumpanys, and have ’em all redy when I
made my pearattce. Then the fuss com
menced. Thar want but one drum in town
and Bill Skinnor swore that should drum for
his cumpany cause it ’longed to that beat,
and Tom Cullers swore, the nigger should
drum for his cumpany, cause lie ’longed to
his crowd. Thar was the old harry to pay,
and it was gittin wurse. I didn’t know what
to do, for they wer all cumin to me ’bout it.
Thinks I, I must show my thority; so says
I, “ in the name of the State o’ Georgia I
cummand the drum to drum for me. I’s
Major o’ this betallion and I’s cummander o’
the tnusick too!” The thing tuck fust rato;
that 1 was no more spitting ’bout it, and I set
the niggers a drummin and filin as has hard
as they could split rite afore the tavern dore.
It was monstrous diffikil to git the men to
full in ; that- bant been none o’ them deform
ed drttnkerds down here yet,and the way the*
fellers does love peach and bunny is mazin',
Bimeby Bill Skirmer lurk a stick and made
a long sit ate streak in the satid,and then hol
lered out, “ Oh, yes! oh, yes ! all you as
blongs to Coon-hdl!er heat is to git in a strnte
line on this trail !” Tom Cullers dun so too
for his heat, and the fellers begin to string
along in a stiate line, and in bout a quarter
of a ower they wer all settled like bees on a
been pole, party considerable strnte. Alter
a wile they sent word to me that they was all
redy, and 1 had my horse fetched up to toth
er side o’ the tavern, hut when I cum to him
thebominahle fool didn’t know me sum how
and begin kickitt and prancin, and cavortin
bout like mad. I made the niggers hold him
till I got on, then I sent word round to the
drummer to drum like blazes as soon as lie
seed me turn the corner, and to the men to
he reddy to salute. My sword kep raltlin
agin the side o’ my horse and the fool was
skeered so he didn’t know which etui he
stood on; and kep dancin about and squat
tin and rarein so I couldn’t hardly hold on to
him. The nigger went and told the men
what I said, and when I thought they was
all reddv, round I went in a knitter with my
sash and regimentals flyin and my red Teth
er waveitt as graceful as a corn tossel in a
whirlwind, when jest as I got to the corner
there was a fuss like heaven and yeatb was
cumin together—rattletebang, bang, wher-r
----r-r-r went the drum, and the nigger blov.
the fife rite out strafe.till his eyes wf>s.-,,i ; ;
his head—hurra! hey-y-y ! hurra! went nil.
the niggers and every body else—mv hotsc
wheelin and pitchin woso than ever tile up
to the muster —when fore I rould draw my
bretli Hang ! bang! bang de hang! hntm!
bang! went evty gun in the crowd, at:d all
I knowd was, I was whirlin, and pitchin,and
swingir. about in the smoke and fire til] I
cum full length rite on the ground, “ in all
the pride, pomp, and citcumstances of glori
ous war,” as Mr. SLakespare says. Lucky
enough I didn’t git hurt, but my cote was
split dear up to the roller,my yaller britches
busted all to flinders, and my sltapetdebravv
and fetber all nocked into a gin shop. Thun
der and lightnin, thinks I, what must be a
man’s feelins in a rale battle, whar they’re
shootin bullets 1 Cum to find out, it was all
a mistake ; the men didn’t know nothing
bout military ticktacks, and thought I ment
a rcglar fourth of July salute.
I had to lay by my rigimentals—but I
knovved my karaetcr was at stake ns a offi
cer, and 1 tarmined to go on with the mus
ter. So I tole Skinner and Cullers to git
the men strait agin, and when they was all
in a line I sorted ’em all out— the fellers
what had guns 1 put in front, them what had
sticks in the rare, and them what had no
shoos down to the bottom by themselves, so
nobody wouldn’t tramp on titer tose. A
good meny of ’em begin to forgit* which
was ther right hand and which was ther left,
and some of ’em begun to he very diffikil
to manage, so I termined to march ’em rite
out to a old field wliar they couldn’t git no
more licker, specially settee I was bleeged
to pear in my old clothes.
Well, arter 1 got ’em all fixed, snvs I,
“musick! quick time! by the tight flank,
file left, ‘match !”—they stood for bout a
minit lookin at tr.e —“by flank,mar-r-r-ch!”
says I, loud as I co!d holier—then they
begun lookin at onetmther and hnnehin
onenothcr with ther elbows, and the fust
thing I knowed they was all twisted up in
a snarl, goin both ways at both ends, and all
marchin thro other in the middle, in all sorts
of belter skelter fashion. “Halt!” says I,
halt! whar upon yeatlt is gwine!” and tliar
they was, nil*in a huddle. They knowed
better, but jest wanted to bother me, I bliev.
“Never mind,” says 1 “gentlemen, we’ll try
that revolution over agin.” So when I got
’em all strait agin, I spluined it to ’em and
gin ’em the word so they could understand
it—“ Forward march!” and away they went,
riot all together, but two by two, every fel
ler waitin til his turn cum to step, so fore
the barefoot ones got slatted, 1 couldn’t
hardly see to tother end of the roe. I let
’em go ahead til we got to the old field, and
then I tried to stop ’em, but 1 had ’em in
gangs all over the field irt no time. “Close
up!” said Ins loud as I could holler hut they
only-looked at me. Git into a strate line
agin,says I. That brought ’em all together,
and I told ’em to rest, afore I put ’em thro
the manuel.
Bout this time out cum a whole parcel of
fellers with some kandidates, and wanted I
should let ’em dress the batallion. I tole
’em I had no jections long as they didn’t
kick up no row. Well, the men wer all high
up for hearin the speeches of the kandidates
and got round thick as flies round a fit
gourd. Ben Ansley, he’s the pop] are.st
kandidate down here—begun the t-! ->w h\
gittin on a stump and tukiti his hat off rite in
the brilin sun ; Feller-sitizens, says he, ]
spose you all know as how my friends is
fotclied me out to repersent this county ir
the next legislater—l am posed to counter
fit mutiny and shinplasters, I am posed to
abolition and free niggers, to the ntorus mul
ticaulus and the Florida war, and all manner
of slrecoonery. (So is I! said Boss Ankles.)
If I is lected your respectable representa
tion, I shall sport gooeftnunny, twenty cents
for cotton, and no taxes, and shall go for bol
isltin prisonment for debt and the Central
Bank. I hope you’ll all cum up to the poles
like a man and vote like a patriot for your
very humble servant —Amen sand then he
jumped down and went round shukin hands.
Hurra for Ben Ansley! Ansley for ever!
shouted every feller. Down with the cussed
bank—devil take the shinplasters and all the
rale-roads ! said Captain Skinner. Silence
for a speech from Squire I’ettybone! Hur
ra for Pettybone! Squire Pettybone was a
little short fat man, wliat had run afore, and
knowd how to talk to the boys. Fiends and
feller-sitizens, says he, I is once more a knn
ilidate for your sufferings, and want to splait)
my sentiments to you. You have jist heart?
a grate deal about the Central Bank, T aint
no bank man, but I is a frend to the pore
man, and is always teddy to stand up for his
rites. When the Central Bank put out its
mutiny it was good, and rich men got it and
made use of it when it was good, but now
they want to buy it in for less nor wliat its
worth to pay their dets to the hank, and they
is tryin to put it down, and make the pore
men lose by it. What does they want to