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VOLUME I. | by c. r. hanleiter. a as® ns Hi ns© ib ©n 5 sms ©nnss? snsn (at his lunch.) “ See where he sits—all undiscuss’d his frugal meal, While deeply pondering o'er the nation’s weal!” The picture above will suggest to the minds of our readers, the vast difference between the effeminate luxury and ruinous extravagance of the present day and the plain, republi can simplicity tn J economy of those days when the Legislature of Georgia convened es pecially to make laws for the people —when there were no parties known hut Whig and Tory, and when all the ends they aimed at were their “Country’s, their God’s and Truth’s.” Then, when they assembled, instead of caucusing and log-rolling, for the promotion of Tarty, they said, one to the other—if not in words, by their actions — “ What is it that you would impart to me ? If it he aught toward the general good, Set honor in one eye, and death i’ the other, And I will look on both indifferently : For, let tlye Gods so speed me, as 1 love The name of honor more than I fear death.” Then, a member of the General Assembly served “ his Country for his Country’s good,” and the good lie effected was his chief reward ; and if, while at Savannah, Augusta, or Louisville, they found some ham sufficiently commodious in which to transact the business of the State, and some bar-room, loft or kitchen, in which to lodge, with a pone of corn bread and a bottle of good “ old bald face,” —such ns our worthy member from old Chat ham is above discussing —(there was neither intemperance or temperance Societies then,) they considered themselves particularly fortunate. We need not draw the contrast: all know how differently things are conducted now a days. The stately capitol, at Miliedgc ville, is very different from the old framed edifice that stands in ruins near the river bank in Augusta, and Beecher and Brown’s orKusoti’s Hotel, affords much better accommoda tions, and more luxurious fare, than those of which our hard-favored member from Chat ham was wont to partake, in his day and generation. Nor need we remaik upon the dif ference in the character and services of our legislators of the present time. The People mark it! It was only a short time since, that a sagacious and veritable citizen of our County remarked, in his peculiarly expressive manner, that “ These members o’ the legis later, instead of g wine down to MU ledge rille and excertifying themselves as they ought to in a case of the kind, they go tharto numerate politics, and go ‘bout eubordinatinon oysters, bran dy cock-tails and sick sweet-meats IP © lE T K Ys THE MOTHER’S SMILE. BY A. E. CARFENTER. There are clouds that must o’ershade us— There are griefs that all must know — There are sorrows that have made us Feel the tide of human woe ; But the deepest-darkest sorrow, Though it sere the heart awhile, Hope's cheering ray may borrow From a mother's welcome smile ! There are days in j’outh that greet us With a ray too bright to last— There are the cares of age to greet us • When those sunny days are past; But the past scenes hover o’er u* And give back the heart awhile, All that memory can restore us In a mother’s welcome smile ! There are scenes and sunny places On which mem'ry loves to dwell — There nre mnnv happy faces Who have known and loved us well; But'mid joy or'mid dejection, There is nothing can beguile, That can show the fond affection Os a mother’s welcome smile ! miLHOT TAILIio MESALLIANCES; Or, The Hussar and the Heiress. Conrad, Count of Wolfenstein, lord of the castle of Tyrol, was one of the richest proprietors of the Ty rolese. He was also one of the most favored courtiers of Joseph the Second ; yet no characters would be more contrasted. Joseph was hard, dry, and ob stinate; the count was jocund and flexible. Joseph affected philosophy ; Count Conrad laughed at it. Joseph attempted to reform everything, and succeeded in nothing but souring his subjects. Count Conrad affect ed to reform nothing, and succeeded in Be ing the most popular of all the landlords in the province. Joseph was tall, meagre, and with the visage of a Calmuck ; Count Con rad was short, plump, and with the visage of a jovial German. Joseph scorned the sex,and dreaded matrimony; Conrad laugh ed and loved, loved and married, had three wives, and would have had a dozen more, if the law of Christendom had been the law of Mahomet, or his last choice had not been the stern, stout-framed partner, who promis ed to see his portly figure laid with all duo honors in the vault of his ancestors. If the & jFanaiß JUtosjmm*: ©efcotett to Sitevature, agriculture, J&ecfeanCc#, 25£ue3tion, jFovelfltt iiufc *cc. emperor and the courtier had been born in the fifteenth century, they would have sup plied some Cervantes with a pair of heroes, but the emperor would have been Don Quixote, and Count Conrad, Bancho Panza. The count loved tlie castle of his ances tors, and would have willingly spent his days hunting, shooting and galloping at the head of his mounteneers ; and his nights in laughing, drinking and sleeping away the toils of his hunting matches. But, of all men, great men are least their own masters. The count, without a necessity on earth that he could call his own, had laid himself un der the necessity of carrying a white wand before the emperor, during the court resi dence at Vienna. He ofleti declared that he felt the white stick heavier than all the pine-trees in the forest; but a courtiermust do his duty, and his was to carry the wand. The court-uniform, laced from top to toe, and more resembling a hai lequin’s jacket, or the livery of a court-footman, than the dress of cither elegance or comfort, he often declared, melted the very soul within his ribs; but, it was his duty, and his soul must be melted. To stand six hours in the circle of a levee, bowing, smiling and talking to every body, though be did not care a feath er if they formed a levee, cn masse, at the bottom of the Danube, the count protested to be the heaviest burden ever laid on the shoulders of man ; but, “it was his duty,” and the burden must be borne. In some of his hours among the mountains, when lie sat in the cool of she morning, gazing on the delicious landscape at his feet, or watch ed the sun rolling off tlie vapors in blue and gold from the valley, like the rising curtain of a theatre, he now and then thought that he might as well remain where he was, ns exchange it for the dimmed orb, struggling through the smoky air, and enlightening tlie tiled roofs atul chimney-tops of Vienna. At other times, when, after a day of hunt ing, ho sat surrounded by his vassals, mo narch of all he surveyed, with every Bill to the horizon lighted up with the descending glory of the evening, marble peaks tipped with vermilion, rallies steeped in violet, forests waving in emerald, the sky like a sheet of azure above, the song of gaiety re turning from its task, rising from a chorus of peasants homeward bound, and round him a circle of bold, honest, good-humored faces, whose fathers and uncles, and moth ers and brothers, he had known from bis in fancy, and fought with, feasted with, danced with, ami flirted with, and every one of whom would have laid down their lives at a nod from him in field of blood, the lord of MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 3, 1842. Wolfenstein often thought oh the little room of the palace, where he had so often stood, elbowed by the well-dressed multi tude, and squeezed almost to suffocation by dowagers eminent for deformity and dia monds. But the count had another treasure that he valued more than even the smiles of an emperor —a daughter, fair, intelligent, hand some, and the best dancer that ever aston ished Vienna in an impelial quadrille. The Lady Adela, of Wolfenstein, had been just twelve months in Vienna, was an object of universal admiration, and besieged by the whole stall, the three regiments of guards —and a brigade of imperial cavalry, sta tioned in the capitol, for the severe duties of playing ombre with the old ladies, danc ing with the young, filling tlie pit of the opera every night, and making the Prater brilliant with prancing chargers, Hungarian plumes, and mustaches worthy of a khan of Tartary. Yet she was still unmarried; more miraculous yet, she was still without a declared lover. The showiest epaulettes of the court passed by her as if they were so much tinsel, and tile most dazzling exqm sites of Vienna seemed to l>e looked on ns so many mountebanks. In fact, with all the gaiety of her father, she se,emed to have im bibed a portion of the emperor’s philosophy. Her smile all Vienna S3id was enchanting, her silence, all the court said, was terrific. The poets compared her to Circe, captiva ting every one at first sight, and thenceforth frightening them out of their lives. The exquisites said that site was fit for nothing hut to he put in a musenm, a Venus, hut in marble. The ladies of the court wished that she was put anywhere, provided the court-exquisites and the guards would hut cease to talk about her. At Vienna, everything is military; the gentlemen curl their whiskers to the sound of the drum ; tiie ladies make their toilet to the tt umpet; epaulettes seem to grow to the shoulders by nature; and sabres area part of tire man. When the emperor means to honor a guest, he orders a regiment out to drill; when he means to dive double honor, he otdersout two; when he mentis to exhibit the glory of his kingdom to a king or an emperor, he takes the field with the garrison, and fires away a thousand florins’ worth of gunpowder. But all those glories were lost on the Lady Adela ; her barouche, with its six Spanish coursers, was never seen on tiie review ground. She was even guilty of the extravagance of saying that she hated reviews: and once hazarded her reputation for loyalty, by saying that she preferred a line of Tyrolese cottages to the finest encampment under the sun. Yet all this changed in a moment; her barouche, with its Spanish steeds, was seen suddenly glittering at the imperial parades. At every review, in a circle of ten miles round the capitol, she was more regular than the emperor himself. Matters were now in a worse condition than before. The court beauties voted that this caprice of the most beautiful of them all, was intolerable. The truth was that Lady Adela in her chamber, with no other companions than her parrot or her guitar, acted a much less obnoxious part than Lady Adela on the re view-ground, gazed at by all eyes as she swept past —worshipped by all when she stood still; and, whether she passed or stood, surrounded by a circle of the most brilliant of the imperial hussars, barons, counts and princes, all twinkling with orders ; and, in their own opinions, by far the mo-t brilliant personages on the face of llie globe. However, there are hut few secrets in the world, and no secrets in court. It was dis coveied that the only hussar among the cor tege to whom Lady Adela never uttered a word, and who never uttered a word to her, was Theodore Sternheim, a cornet in the Hungarian guards. This would he, per haps, no great matter anywhere else ; hut, in courts, silence is more expressive than words, and looks are volumes. Several volumes of this unwritten correspondence, this communication unsullied by ink, and uticonveyed in rose-colored billets, fringed with cupids, was suddenly detected, and in stantly divulged. Lady Adela, with the loveliest bloom in the world, was observed regularly to lose it as the cornet rode up to the side of the carriage; and, though now and then, a soupron of the rose returned, yet the effect was decided paleness. The cornet carried off tfie colors in more senses than one. Rivahy is quick in its movements, even in courts; the handsome Farnientes of the Guards, indignant at being supersed ed, were doubly indignant at being super seded by a Tyrolese mountaineer, who. though a handsome fellow, yet had not so much as a baron in his family since theflood, and whom every body wondeted at for his presumption in figuring among the showy squadrons of the guards. The news soon reached the ears of Count Conrad—of course by no means diminished in atrocity. The horrible waste of the Lady Adela’s birth, beauty, and dower of half a million florins a year, was painted in its natural co lors, and the count, was called upon to lose no time in asserting the dignity of his blood, and avenging the insult to his name, by sending the young offender to serve his country in Transylvania,Siberia, or the Anti podes. The count did none of those things; he laughed at the charge, which he deemed impossible; laughed at the rivals for trou bling tbeirlieads about Lady Adda’s blushes; laughed at Lady Adela for taking the trou ble of mystifying the maids of honor; but, with all this bonhommie, took his measures the next morning; and, on that morning, the cornet,hva particular message, was sum moned to a ltUle apartment, six feet square, in the fourth story of the Imperial Palace, where the chamberlain of his majesty was content to squeeze the master of a hundred hills, and which apartment served him for dining-room, study, and council-chamber. Theodore Sternheitn appeared at the ap pointed hour, was received with the affabili ty of one mountaineer by another, break fasted, and was then required to tell all that lie could touching the Lady Adela. Theo dore was ardent, straightforward, and sin cere. He told that he had long thought Lady Adela the most beautiful creature that ever had been in the world ; that he longed to live and die for her, but it was unneces sary to tell the count that his fortune exact ly amounted to his pay ; that he had not a drop of noble blood in his veins; and thnt his sole hope of fame and fortune, was in the sabre at his side. “ All those are excellent tilings, my dear Theodore,” was the count's reply ; “ but no man above one-and-twentv ever talks of love in a cottage; women, of every age. may talk of them, but they never think of them at any. Let 11s discuss the matter like countrymen, as we are, and friends as we ought to be. The Lady Adela has the hand somest equipage of her court while she re mains with me ; she has five thousand flor ins a year for dress and diamonds ; she has six attendants out of my household, and ten thousand florins a year more to throw to the moon if she likes ; all this, while she re mains with me. Now, my gallant friend, all tlie question is, can you hid higher?” The comet was thunderstruck, but ral lied, and attempted to say something about courage and constancy, high hopes, and the prospects of a soldier. “All very good,” said the count; “ but the prospect of a good estate is the only one that pleases my eye at this time of life. Still, lam ceitain that you would not wisli to reduce ray daughter to the proprietorship of a donkey, the cat l y ing of a camp-kettle, and the pleasures of siiiierintendlng your knapsack until you are a colonel, an event which may confidently he looked for within the next forty or fifty years. For, until I die, Adela is not worth urix-dollor; and ldo not mean to die be fore my time.” The interview was decisive. There was no eclat in the affair. In twenty-four hours the war-minister received a note fnmi the cornet, requesting permission to transfer his services to the Bmolensko Chasseurs, a favor ite regiment in the hosts of the autocrat of all tlie Russias; The farewell to Lady Adela was conveyed in a letter. Tho letter was a fine specimen of nil thnt could lie said on the subject of misalliances. All men are eloquent when they are angry.— There is, in fact, no eloquence without it. But Theodore was desperately in love be sides,and if paper could take fire with words, the Ivttet would have been consumed in its own flames before it reached the bag of the palace courier. It was a strain of mingled pathos and passion, declaiming bitterly a gainsl llie prejudices of courts and counts in favor of high blood ; exclaiming against the infinite cruelty of breaking heads for the sake of making fortunes; vindicating the superiority of principle to title ; and fin ishing by a promise to adore her, in spite of father’s and family pride, to his life’s end ; a promise lather oddly contrasted with his resolve to shorten his life as much as possi ble, by “dying in the very first battle,” and thus lose a life which was now clouded, eclipsed, extinguished “ by the criminal and antiquated folly of thinking more of empty title than of imperishable love.” How Lady Adela’s high spirit bore this contretems, even court history says but little; but she was seen 110 more at reviews. Her six Andalusian steeds no longer excited the pious wish that they might hazzaid the fair est neck in the empire; the other court beauties had their fair share of aides-de camp once more ; the Imjierial staff were no longer perplexed in their duties on pa lade by the glance of the most brilliant eyes that ever bewildered a field-officer; in short, the Lady Adela had disappeared. But time either kills or cures everything. Theodore was gone where it was impossi ble to follow him. He was now with his regiment fighting barbarians in the Cauca sus, the warm-weather Siberia of Russia. The few tender inquiries hnzznrded for his existence either fell into the hands of the Russian war-office, who threw them into tho fire, or were caught in their first flight by Count Conrad himself, who strangled them without a pang. Year on year - rolled away ; the fair Ado la was still fair, still single, and still con temptuous of Vienna and its cavaliers. At length when n crowd of suiters had suc cessively failed, she gave her hand to a no ble friend of her father’s, a great diplomat ist, and a great proprietor of flocks and herds, anil, notwithstanding, bti honest and good-nntmed man, who everybopy liked, and some said they loved. Lady Adela was of the former class; she married, and the birth of an heir was celebrated by moun tain bonfires, round an horizon of n hundred and fifty leagues. She was now the Prin cess Wtddenmr; the carousals were magni ficent, long, and costly. Among other things they cost the Prince his life. He died after a three days’ festival, in which more wine Was drank than in any feast of the moun- 1 tains before or since tiie accession of the I house of Hapsburg. He died with the cup j in his hand, and was carried to tlie vault of j his ancestors with a pomp worthy of the ! festival which had sent him thither. Tlie j Lady Adela now had boundless wealth, boundless influence, a multitude of vassals, ! and everything but happiness. Her infant absorbed all her thoughts; she refused oth er princes, who were in want of a fortune, and had no objection to lake it, accompani ed with a lovely woman ; remained a widow, and watched over her son. But the times and the world began to change. France, so long the dancing-inns ter of mankind, had become its executioner, ‘fhe rabble of Paris poured out to plunder Germany. Austria came in for her abate of the shock. A French army of n hundred and fifty thousand men,under Moreau,drove her emperor from hill to valley, until it drove him within the walls of Vienna. Tyrol, al ways faithful, and always unlucky, was first, sac'kcd bv the French, and then seized by tlie Bavarians. The Princess Waluemar suffered the natural fate Ilf those who have anything tolose, wberedeniagogues offer li berty, and infidel* talk of justice ; for she lost all. Her high spirit had taken a high part in the contest. She had raised a regi ment of chasseurs on her estates for the emperor, and, as the reward of her loyalty to Francis, found a price set upon her head by Napoleon. We now drop the curtain for ten years. At the end of that time, on a fine summer's evening, in the suburbs of Buda, a hand some matron might lie seen sitting in a tc markahly neat hut small cottage, iu deep conversation with a young man, whose fea tures, with the fire of soutli, exhibited all tlie expression and almost the beauty of his mother. That son was telling a love-tale. His Hungarian cap on one table, and his sabre on another, showed that lie was an officer in the most distinguished corps of the empire. Hisgestureshowed that he was ex cessively in earnest; and the paleness of his cheek, that his passion had not been pros perous. He was in love, and had been in love a month, with the prettiest face and form in the court-circle of the capitol. Ro sanna de Bchsilettherg was the name of the lady. She was the daughter of a general officer, who had distinguished himself pro j digiously against the French*—had cut up 1 camps, and cut off convoys—frightened field marshals, and taught the Austrians once more j that they had fingers which could draw trig : gers, and bends which could push bayonets. > Tlie general had been loaded with honors accordingly—was pronounced the national j genius, and, ns a foretaste of everything short of a throne, had just been made gov ernor of Vienna. The point in debate between the young officer and his mother was, whether he should make formal proposals for the young beau ty; carry her off without any formality of the kind ; or put a pistol to his own forehead. The matron argued against all three points, and produced conviction on none of them. Within a fortnight, a note from her son, dated from the Hungarian guard-house, in formed her that he was under arrest; that he had made his proposal* to the governor of Vienna; performed the part of a man of honor, by acknowledging that he was not worth n louisd'or; bad been laughed at; been indignant for being laughed at; been turned out for being indignant; sent a clial : lengc to the genera! for being turned out; j been arrested for sending the challenge ; ! and was now left to consider the alternative; of being stript of his commission, or shot in a sqnnre of his own brigade. The matron was the Princess Waldemar, and the cap tive lover was her only son. On the utter ruin of her estates, she had retired into pri vacy, disdaining to claim the rank’which her means were unable to support; though still handsome, thoroughly weary of the world, she bid herself in the obscurity of a se cond rate city, and there, changing her name, and concealing her birth from her hoy, she suf fered the world to forget her, and forgot the world. But this was anew tenor; her life was wrapt up in the young chasseur, whom she had contrived to call Theodore, notwith standing the profusion of lordly mimes showered upon him by the genealogy of tlie Waldemars. She collected the family documents that remained to her—her few jewels-—anil,with a heating heart anti an acliirig head, set out that night for the capitol. At the hotel w here she alighted, she received intelligence which made both head and heart heavier, The court-martial had sat upon hereon; sentence had been given against liirrr; the sentence was before the emperor; and, with a thou sand recommendations to character—inuid the indignation of the soldiery that so dash ing a sabreur should he lost to the service— and the sorrows of the ladies that so hand some a cavalier should dance Manukas no more —thete was not a doubt thnt he would l>e shot within the next twenty-four hours. There was no time to he lost; and, ton i fied and in tears, she instantly sought an au dience of the emperor. Bending in her name as Madame Von Lindorf, and dressed in mourning as one of the peasants of the district, she was the more readily receimj bv Fronds, who was fond of being thought the father of the peasantry. She told her tale with infinite pathos, palliated the of fence of beratin’ a* best she could, and final ly declared that bis los would send her to | NUMBER 36. ¥. T. THOMPSON, EDITOR. the grave. But Francis was an innocent 1 ttle man of routine; and it would have been a less offence with him, as an Austri an, to have robbed the imperial treasury, or carried off a princess of the blood, than to have touched the whiskers of an Austins’ grenadier-—much less to have threatened to send a bullet through tlie brains of the moat gallant officer in the service, a chevalier if a dozen orders, and colonel of the Imperial Grenadiers besides. The emperor took his kneeling petitioner by the hand, raised her from the ground with infinite kindness, told her that tlie sentence must he executed, saw her drop fainting on the ground, and then went to his imperial breakfast, satisfied with having done a deed of justice, which would add infinitely to his reputation with all tb* old women of Vienna. When she awoke, she found herself in a small chamber of the palace, with one or two females supplying her with can de in tlie intervals of their attendants on b beau tiful girl, who was lying on a sofa, hid from tho light of day, wringing her hands, bath ed iu tears, and uttering sighs that seemed to come from the very depth of her heart. One of the attendants whispered her name tn the matronii was Rosanna Von Scfiu lenlierg. The whole story flashed into her mind. This lovely creature was the objegt of her son's passion, the excuse of his er ror, and the source of his ruin. As she gaz ed on her excessive beauty, she felt, if pos sible, additional grief for the fate of the youth, led into madness and death bv the noblest “of all the passions. But another thought also flashed in her mind. She would find this inexorable father, who thus con demned his own child to misery for life*, and her unhappy son to a premature grave. Os General Von Schulenberg she knew noth ing, hut that he was a toldier of desperate bravery, and thatthe empire rang with his ex ploits ; but, if he was anything more humane than a tiger, he must listen to an unhappy mother, pleading for her last possession ip the world. It w*as now evening, and the aun waa shining in all the beauty of autumn. A# she passed the Prater to the governor’s sum mer palace, all round her was gaiety ; the citizens were pouring out by thousands along the hanks of the Danube ; old men were sitting under tlie trees; children were sport ing on the gross; handsome women were promenading among the arbours, attended by handsome cavaliers; music came from parties on the river, floating in gilded and painted baiges; music came from the thick ets, where tlie good citizens of Vienna, with their violins and trombones, their flutes and French horns, performed family quartettes to the honor of Mozait and Beethoven ; and, in the midst of all this joy, passed on the weeping woman, her face covered with her veil, and her heart breaking. A spirit starl ing from the grove, in the midst of somi national revel, could not have looked more melancholy. At length she reached the governor’s palace. It was ho unlucky evening for a petitioner. She found the hall ctowded with aides-de-camp; waiting to receive the elite of Vienna at a hall, given in hntior of the emperor’s being invested that day with his sixty-fifth order of knighthood, the “!Wb of the sun,” sent by the shall of Persia.— Any other petitioner would have been re pulsed by the Grenadiers 011 duty at the gate, Lightened by the stare of the aides de-cump, or trampled to death by the well bred crowd, that rushed from a hundred chariots, up the marble staircase of the pa lace. But the mother persevered. With infinite difficulty, by bribing one domestic with a ring, and adother with the lust ducat in her purse, site finally made her way into the general’s library, end contrived to have her petition put even into the general's hand. The few minutes in which she awaited his arrival were minutes of unspeakable agony. She felt thnt the first word of tliis high au thority must he to her son 0 sentence of life or death. Her heart heat thick—but when she heard the first rapid foot-steps approach ing, the light departed from her eyes. The ceiiera) came in. The very first tone of his voice stiuck her as familiar to her ear ; she listened, and was convinced. But how could she reconcile her memory of that voice with the tall, bronzed, and deter? mined countenance of the high personage before her ? The general listened too, but she could scarcely ttiake her voice audible. He begged of her to lay aside her veil, give herself time, and calmly tell him all that she had to say. There was a softness in fits manner, as he offered those slight attentitwur which still more fully convinced her that she was not mistaken. Her veil was not raised, but she told her story with all the power of one on whose worils depended all that was dear to her on earth. The gene ral listened w ith deep attention, and replied with increased softness of manner. Still there was no appearance of relaxation in his purpose. Declaring thnt he had no con ceit able sense of personal injury toward the young officer, he attempted to explain the necessity of discipline, the rashness of her son’s conduct, and the uttetly unprovoked, nature of hisofl'ence. “As to marrying my daughter,” said he,, “ the idea was extravagant. Your own ex cellent understanding, madam, must point out to you at once, what escaped the folly of your son, that, in this w orld, we must at tend to circumstances; that families should be allied according to their rank; and that