Newspaper Page Text
ers in a foreign land, we loved at first sight,
ns if by inspiration from heaven, and vowed
each to the other a solemn pledge, come
weal or woe, the love wruuglit tie, which
bound u 3 together in the one common lined
of mutual affection should never be severed
by any opposing power.”
To which she replied.
•• Life, Mr. Lawrence, is at best, but a
mere shadow, if spent innocently, and with
the object of our affections—so well —but if
not, it is infinitely better to die when young,
than to devote the haggard fragments of a
stormed lashed life to the mournful linger
ing:} of wretchedness and hopeless despair.
I will go -with you,” continued she, ‘Mo the
end of life— leave father, mother, home, in
terest and friends, and never telurn again to
my parental roof.”
,As she uttered these words, a sudden
hurst-of angelic brightness darted forth from
her sparkling eyes, with a radiance almost
as bright as the most vivid flash of lightning
in the darkest sky, giving increased sweet
ness and lustre to her whole countenance,
as if the broad foot prints of innocence and
Tove had been deeply stamped upon the
snowy surface of her lovely cheeks.
The manner by which to effect the most
speedy execution of the plan suggested, was
next to be considered. William proposed,
to which Caroline consented, to select two
young men of Lebanon with whom she was
acquainted—Col.Carter, and Mr. Johnson —
to assist them in the prosecution of their
scheme, and then requested her to give them
an opportunity to see her during the mor
row, and whatever they should say, was
what he wished her todo. Caroline assured
him his request should be promptly observ
ed. William now pressed her soft white
band, kissed her trembling lips, bade her
good night, and then departed.
Early next morning be obtained an inter
view with Johnson ami Carter, from whom
he elicited a solemn pledge, both as to se
crecy, and dilligent, cautious efforts to se
cure for him, the accomplishment of his pur
pose.
About one o’clock, as Col. Carter was
sitting in the piazza ofliis storehouse, look
ing out towards Caroline's residence, he saw
her standing by the window in her room.—
She waved her handkerchief, and he his
hand in response, and then forthwith repair
ed to the place, and through the window
held a conversation with her. As he left,
he said,
“ To prevent suspicion, I will call this
evening, immediately after tea, to attend you
to church, where you will meet William on
the way, and the arrangement for your mar
riage.”
The evening passed pleasantly away, as
if nothing occurred. The time for them to
be married was near at hand—it was now
dark —the church bell w’as ringing—their li
cense obtained—the man to peiform the cer
emony secured in the promise of his ser
vices—Col. Carter started to Mr. Stewart’s
residence, to attend Caroline to the church
—the carriage and horses arranged, and the
driver upon his seat, ready to drive away
with rapid speed the now almost married
couple. But alas, alas!—human treachery!
—before that doleful night, and iti a sleep
ing hour, when disappointment began the
fatal work, of settled grief in the hearts of
spirited lovers, a Judas, clad in a good man’s ,
garb appeared in William’s camp, and be- I
trayed the confidence of unsuspecting iuuo- !
cence.
The disclosure of the plan had been made
to Caroline’s father —mortified and enraged
at his daughter’s contemplated elopement
with a man, for whom he had no personal
partiality, he determined to prevent it. Ac
cordingly lie confined Caroline only a few
moments before she had an opportunity to
escape, within the narrow walls of a dark
some room, and all intercourse with her from
without, positively forbade. Himself, bis
son, and son-in-law prepared themselves
each with his gun, then to guard the house
for that, and the subsequent night, to.pre
vent any attempt by William’s friends to j
arrest Caroline from the unmerited confine
ment of personal imprisonment, and under
submission to parental authority. But no
such effort was made. Caroline remained
locked 11 p, so long as William remained in
Lebanon. After that they never saw, nor
spoke to each other; Caroline lias since
married, but William is still destined to live,
and perhaps die an old love beaten bachelor.
Meri weather Cos., G;i., Dec. 20, IS 12.
MttIQgULAMY.
LIFE.
I fawn little fairy boat.
Glide o’er a glassy lake ;
Bright buds wove ’round the gilded prow,
Flowers scattered in i's wako.
It held one lair and sylphlike child
Within its bosom slight,—
One hand upon the little helm,
Whilst all seemed calm and bright.
I saw that tiny bark again,
Upon a glancing stream,
Flit piidst its green and fiery isle’,
Like a swift-passing dream.
A fair-haired youth now guided it,
Through all those changing scenes 1
While sun and storm around him played,
In showers and fitful gleams.
Again it burst upon my view,
On rapids dark and dread ;
Its gilded prow all worn and broke,
Its flowers faded and dead.
It held, while in its wild career,
Manhood’s all-braving form:
Ilis eye fixed on the bow c f Hope,
That shone above the storm.
1 saw the way-worn bark once more.
Tossed on a boundless sea :
Before it yawned a deep, dark gulf—
Beyond, Eternity.
An aged man reclined within,
With wasted form and eye;
But still his gaze forever fixed
Upon the brightening sky.
For there, there beamed a fadeless light,
That pilgrim’s long-sought haven.
Where he might moor his shattered bark ;
And that bright home was—Heaven.
A wealthy planter in Woodford Coutitv,
Ky.. says : “ 1 had rather be taxed for the
poor boy’s education than the pour man’s
ignorance; for.one or the other I am com
pelled to pay.”
Tyranny of Fashion. —A late Vermont
Telegraph, after noticin'; the large propor
tion of death* from consumption, in Provi
dence, during the year IS4I, viz 198 out of
■ (;17, (lieing yearly one third of the whole,
exclusive of 44 who were still born,) intro
i duces one ofliis leaders as inquiring how
l many of these cases of consumption were
probably caused by tight lacing. He then
proceeds to make the following remarks, in
which we entirely concur.
One of the most effectual means for pro
moting this mischievous and destructive
work of compressing the waist, is the dis
play of fashions in popular magazines.—
There is now on my table, before me a pop
ular work of this kind, exhibiting the Pliil-
I adelphia fusions for February, ISI2. The
| dimensions of a female portrait which it dis
| plavs in fascinating colors, are as follows :
| —Height, five and a half inches ; breadth of
: waist, five sixteenths of an inch ! Let us
now enlarge the figure twelve times, and
! then look at the proportions. Thu enlarge
! rnent of the figure will bring the height of it
; to the height of a very tall woman—viz.:
five feet and a half. It is proper to stale
here, that in the figure displayed, the breadth
of shoulders and skirt are about in proper
| proportion to the height. But the. contrac
tion of the waist is to be observed. Now
twelve times five sixteenths of an inch brings
the thickness of the waist to three inches
| and three quarters! Here you have a fe
! male five feet and a half high, and otherwise
! well proportioned, except her waist, which
is less than one third of a foot in diameter !
Take another view of it. Suppose a healthy
female to he ten inches through the waist.
Starting from this, to carry out the propor
tions of the figured alluded to in the maga
zine, would laisetlie height to fourteen feet
and eight inches!
This is no caricature—no distortion. It
is an exhibition of facts showing the folly
and insanity of adhering to a ridiculous, uti
! natural and murderous fashion. Those
“ pictorial illustrations” of fashions are as
effectual ns the pictures of lewduess, to se
cure their vile and fatal ends. It is time
these things were looked to and put away.
■ iff
Earning hi fore Weeding. —“ I will tell
you,” continued her aunt to Louisa, “two
things which I have fully proved. The first i
will go far towards preventing the possibil- j
ity of any discord after marriage ; the second
is the best and surest preservative of fem
inine character.
“Tell me!” said Louisa anxiously.
“ The first is this, to demand ofyour bride
groom, as soon as the marriage ceremony j
is over, a solemn vow, and promise yourself, j
never even in jest, to dispute, or express any j
disagreement. 1 tell you never ! for what
begins in mere bantering, will lead to seri
ous earliest. Avoid expressing any irrita
tion at one another’s words. Mutual for
bearance is the one great secret of domes
tic happiness. If you have erred, confess it
freely,even if confession cost you sometears.
Further, promise faithfully and solemnly,
never upon any pretext or excuse to have
any secrets or concealments from each
other; but to keep your private affairs from
father, mother, sister, brother, relations and
the world. Let them be known only to
each and your God. Remember that any
I third person admitted into your confidence
j becomes a party to stand between you, and
will naturally side with one or the other.
Promise to avoid this, and renew the vow
iipon every temptation. It will preserve
that perfect confidence, that union, which
will indeed make you one. O! if the newly
married would but practice this spring of
connubial peace, how many unions would
be happy which ate now miserable. — Knick
erbocker.
The British in China. —A late letter from
Macao, to the N. Y. Express, says that the
Biitish war against the Chinese, continues
with the usual success ot the invaders, ihe
writer adds,
“ There is so much to conquer and occu
py, however, that the largest force will in
time be used up, even if there was not much
resistance. The Chinese are beginning to
fight with more skill. Jti the attack on
Clio poo the last month, there was much fight
ing. The English account admits that some
Tartar troops fought desperately, and after
being routed, parties of them threw them
selves into some Joss-houses, when they
picked off'a number of the assailants, and
some very distinguished officers. Tho ac
count states that this Joss-house was event
ually destroyed by artillery, for the infantry
were fast falling from the destructive fire
kept up by the enemy from inside the build
ing ; it was found to contain about 2000
stand of arms all loaded—and the Tartar
troops only bad to discharge them from the
windows, loop-holes, and doors, at our men,
without the trouble of loading—eventually
the whole of them were neatly killed, and
some taken prisoners, and the building de
stroyed by powder bags and field pieces.—
Then the city walls were escaladod, and
possession taken of the place by out troops,
and thus fell Cltapoo or Shapua—a celebra
ted Tartar military depot. The Tartars ap
peared to have lived separate from tiie Chi
j nose, as the encampment and the Tartar
| towns are divided by a great wall. Hun-
I dreds ot women and children were found
here to have been murdered on the retreat
of the enemy; this was a horrible sight;
whole funifies might have been seen lying
butchered, strangle 1 and poisoned—all too,
recenily done by the hands of their own
people—cruel and mistaken apprehension
only of violence led to this. It is rumored
that an attempt will soon he made on Pe
kin.”
War k either right or wrong. It is ei
ther permitted or it is forbidden. It may be
waged “ will) all our hearts, with all our
mind, with all our strength,” or it must be
abandoned by the Christian. There is no
middle ground, no half-way position. Ei
ther the blessing of God can rest on the bat
tle-field, or we must come up to the rescue
of our fiitli from this pollution of blood.—
There is, we repeat it, no halfway vindica
tion of national war: it is to be baptized of
Christianity, adopted of her, it accords with
her character, or it must he opposed bv ev
ery one bearing the name of Christ.
s<d uMff ana law mas®m && a p
Common Grammatical Errors. —Using
the active-transitive verb lay, for the neuter
lie. “He lays there,” should be “be lies
there.” A similar error occurs in the use
of the word set, which is transitive, .for sit,
neuter.
I am mistaken, for I mistake, is a wrong
expression, in almost every one’s month, and
on almost every page of a newspaper. “ I
am mistaken,” {means “ someone has mis
taken me,” and not, as is intended, “ I mis
take upon some subject,” or “ mistake some
one.”
“ 1 had rather,” is another error in com
mon use, which probably arose from the
contracted form “ I’d rather,” f:c., where
the apostrophe and has been mistaken as a
contraction of had, instead of would, as is
! the truth. It should be, “ I would rather,”
| &e.
| Both badly of. —“ Captain Thompson,”
; said Squire Jones, “I have heard a good
\ deal said in praise of Vermoit women.
! Now how will you swap wives with me, at
| a ha/.zanl! To tell you this —mine is too
I handsome for my own happiness —so very l
i handsome thatl dare not dress her decently,
for fear every body should fail in love wills
her.” “Even,” replied Thompson ; “but
first let me tell you that mine is so inferi:..l
ugly I have to keep her dressed to extrava
gance—otherwise I couldn't stomach her.”
“Then,” said Jones, “ 1 guess we'd bet
ter both heat those ills we have, ns iShaks
peare says, than swap and make nothing by
it.”
Caution to Millers. —Recently a miller
near Mobile, for some purpose or other,
poured several pounds of melted lead in the
eye of the runner-stone. The lead becom
ing loose find working between the .stones,
was ground up with the corn. The meal
was consumed on the plantation of Mr.
James G. Lyori, and a number cf hjs ne
i groes were poisoned by it, some of whom
; died, w hile others were palsied and altogeth
er helpless. It is said to be a common thing
for millers to use lead in this way, and the
I misfortune just related ought to he a sulli
i cient warning against it. A similar accident
! occurred recently in Europe.
T Yards. —Virtue wants more admirers,
I Wisdom more supplicants, Truth more real
I friends, and Honesty more practitioners.
The trader wants more profit, oi less envy
ofliis mote fortunate neighbor.
‘Lhe Printer wants more subscribers, punc
tual payment, and less duns.
Religion wants less said about the theory,
and more done in the way of practice.
Philosophy wants a Fideli
ty an asylum.
Love, Charity, and Banks, wants to be in
better credit.
Pride wants to be discorded, and Modest
Diffidence introduced.
Colored Daguerreotypes. —At a late meet
ing of the French Academy of Sciences at
Paris, M. Arago exhibited to the Academy
some Daguerrotype pictures colored by the
application of artificial colors, placed on dif
ferent parts of the picture after its execu
tion. It would appear, said the Secretary,
that these colors, spread uniformly, become
fixed in variable proportion, and in propor
tion as the parts of the picture are dark or
light, under the influence of a special chem
ical action.
Prices of produce in Michigan. —A cor
respondent who writes from Marshall, un
der date of Nov. 2Gth, gives the following
as the prices of produce in Central Michi
gan :
Wheat 3S cents—Corn 20 cents—Oats 15
cents per bushel, and other kinds of grain
quite as cheap. Pork is sold for SI per 100
pounds, and hogs that weigh upwards of
200 sell freely at 81 25 per 100 lbs.—Alba
ny Journal.
“ Nimrod, can you tell who was the first
ntau 1”
“ Adam somebody. His father wasn’t
nobody; and lie never had no mother, on
account of the scarcity of women and the
pressme of the time.”
“ How long were the children of Israel in
the wilderness V’
“ Till they found their way out.”
“ Who was compelled to seek refuge in
the land of Nod V
“ Gov. Dorr.”
“ Why was he obliged to fleet hither 1”
“ Because be got up King’s ebeneezer,
and Providence wouldn’t protect liim.”—
Sandusky ( Ohio) Mercury.
gX'OMAM-QK, |
TIIE CURRENCY—CORRECTED.
Par Banks. —The issues of the following
batiks are received at par in Augusta : Au
gusta Insurance and Banking Company—
Bank of Augusta—Branch State of Geor
gia at Augusta—Agency Bank of Bruns
wick—Branch Georgia Rail Road—Me
chanics’Bank—Bank of St. Mary’s—Bank
of Milledgeville —Bank of the State of
Georgia, at Savannah—Commercial Bank
at Macon—Georgia Rail Road and Banking
Company Athens—Marine and Fire Insur
ance Bank, Savannah—Branch of ditto, at
Macon—Planters’ Bank, Savannah—Ruck
ersvillo Banking Company —Charleston
Banks—Bank of Camden—Bank of George
town —Commercial Bank, Columbus—Mer
chants’ Bank at Cheravv—Bank ofilamhupr
—Exchange Bank Brunswick.
Banks at Discount. —Phoenix Bank at
Columbus, ut 6 a 10 cents discount; Oc
mulgce Bank, iiroke ; Central Bank of
Georgia, 35 a 38; Central Rail Road and
Banking Company at Savannah, 3 ; Insur
ance Bank of Columbus, at Macon. G a 10;
Alabama notes, 12 a 14 ; Bank of Hawkins
ville, 25 u 30.
No S lie or uncertain. —The following
banks ate thus quoted : Bank of Darien
and Branches ; Bank of Columbus ; Chat
tahoochie Rail Road and Banking Compa
ny ; Monroe Rail Road and Banking Com
pany ; Planters’and Mechanics’ Bank, Cos
lumbiis; Western Bank of Goorgia, at
1 Rome.
© !B D © U m A !L
For tho “Southern MUcellnny.”
LETTER FROM MAJOR JONES.
NO. XI.
Fineri/lc, December 20, 1542.
To Mr. Thompson :
Dear Sir, —It seems like our fokes always
is iti a fuss. First it was movin, then it was
hog-killin and now everything’s topsy-turvy
makiu ready for Crismas. 1 do blieve the
niggers is skowered every spot in the house
from the garret to the dore-steps. and every
titpe 1 comes into the house they’s all hol
los in out, “tliar, now, Mas’ Joe, jest look at
your tracks !” and “ dont you step on the
heath, for its jest redened,” and “ don’t you
spit agin tiie jam,” and sich foolery jest as
if people’s houses wasn’t made for ’em to
live in. It really puts me out o’ all patience
to see sich nonsensical doins. And moth
er, she’s had all the niggers choppin sasage
j meat to make mins-pies, and poundin spice
and ginger, 3tid makiu marvels and beatin
i egs to make pound cake, and all sorts o’
j sweet doins for Crismas ; for when the old
| woman takes any thing itito her head, she
ant a gvvine to be out-done not by nobody.
.She ses Crismas don’t come but once a
year now-a-days, and she’s gwine to treat it
hansum when it tines cum—she’s gwine to
show the Stallionses that she’s use to as
good livin ns most o’ folkes. Well, I “lory
in her spunk, but it’s monstrous spensive
and unpleasant to go things on the big figer
that she’s on now; it tievet ought to he
done only to wodins, and it wouldn’t do then
wharthcr was to be many in the same fam
ily.
I tell you what I was monstrous riled
when I lead that letter of Crotchett’s in
your paper. The imperent cus! If he
thinks I care for his contempt or commisery
cither, lie’s mighty mistaken, and if he’ll jest
curn back to Pineville and tell me I’m a liar
to my face, I’ll shake him out o’ the gates
o’ life afore he can say peas. I was really
sprised to think you would put bis letter in
the “ Miscellany,” but when I read your re
marks bout it 1 don’t know but you was
rite enough. I showed it to the Stallionses,
and Miss Marry sod he was a good for noth
ing wicked retch, to go and run off and
leave bis wife and cbildieri, and then when
he was found out, to dare to go and rite
bout respectable gentlemen in the papers in
that way.
“ That’s jest the way with the world, tny
child,” ses old Miss Stallions, “ the bigger
rascal a man is the more insurance lie’s got.
That’s jest what put me agin him at first.
Whenever I see so much insurance I al
ways expect they’s some rascality with it.”
And that’s my blief, too, Mr. Thompson ;
I’ll tell you how I judge folks as I don’t
know much bout. When I sec anybody
tryin rite off to show how smart they is, and
takin all the conversation to themselves, I
keep my eve on ’em. Cause when people
is any account they’s'got sense enough to
know that oilier people will soon find it out,
but when they really ant nobody, and when
they know they’d mount to less the more
they’s found out, then they tt y to make peo
ple blieve tliey’s the mischief and all, fore
they can have a chance to see into ’em.—
Hant you never found it so ! Insurance is
like varnish ; it makes the commonest kind
o’ jailer ]>ine leek zrrtly life liogany,
and insurance covers ail the flaws in the
character of the worst kind o’ rascals and
j makes ’em look like gentlemen.
Do tell tis what upon yeatli all this talk
means bout the world comiti to a etui next
April. I’ve heard a great deal bout Miller’s
doctrine, and hustles, and Diehens’ Notes,
iately, in the papers. No other paper hut
the “ Miscellany” hant got much else in ’em.
Is it a April fool bisness, or is it a fact ? If
the world was to bust up bout that time it
would interfere with peeplo’s calculations
monstrous, especially married folks. Ther
was a man here last week from Augusta,
and he sed it was a fact, that he seed it all
sifered out on a piece of paper, and ther
was no mistake bout it. He was collectin
for a clock man in Boston, and he sed they
was closin up bisness on that account. Now
T don’t like to blieve no sicli nonsense—but
if it was to come out true I wouldn’t like to
be so tuck in. Mother and old Miss Stal
lions and two or three more old ladies is in
a mighty fidget bout it, and old Miss Stal
"“lions dreamed that it was a fict. ann mother
diearned she seed two moons t’other night,
and one of ’em was all blazin with fire and
flyin bout like mad. I don’t zactly know
what to think bout it, but titer’s one thing
snrtin, it’s got to begin monstrous early in
the mornin on the third day of April, if I
ant up to see it. If anybody should set the
woods afire bout Pineville, jest bout that
time, I wouldn’t like to answer for the con
sequences among the old witnin. I wish
you would publish the truth bout it in the
“ Miscellany” for nobody down hear dou’t
blieve nothin they see in political papers,
like they do what’s in yours, they’s ben fool
ed by ’em so often.
But I’m not a gwine to let sich matters
interfere with my matrimonial speculation.
I call it speculation, for, you kuovv, ther’s no
tcllin bow these things is gwine to turn out.
lu the fust place, it’s a chance if a body gets
the gall lie’s courtin, and alter he’s got her
all to himself for better or for worse, it’s a
chance agin if she don't turn out a mon
strous sight vvoise nor lie tuck her for. But
I think mine’s a pretty safe bisness, for
Miss Mary is jest a leetle the smartest, best
and the butifulest gall in Georgia. I’ve seed
her twoor three times sense the candy pull
in, and 1 ant more’n half so fraid of her as
1 use to be. I told her t’other night 1 had
a Crismas gift for her which I hoped she
would take and keep.
“ What is it, Major V ses she.
“Oh,” ses I, “it’s something that I
wouldn’t give to nobody else in the world!”
“ Well, but what is it—do tell me.”
“ Something,” ses 1, “ that you stole long
time ago, and sense you’ve got it I want vou
to keep it, and give me one like it in re
! turn.”
“ Well, do tell me what it is, first,” ses
I she, and 1 seed her cut her eye ut Miss Cul
| line, and sort o’ smile.
“ But will you give rno one in return 1”
1 ses 1.
1 “ What, Major—tel! tne whet
“ I’ll tell you Crismas eve,” ses I. “ But
will you give me yours in return.”
“ Yours ! eli my then her face
got as red as a poppy, and she looked down.
“ You kuow, Miss Mary,” ses I—“ will
you ?”
She didn’t say nothing, but blushed worse
and worse.
“ Now, mind,” ses I, “ I must have a an
swer Crismas eve.”
“ Well,” ses she—and then she looked
up and laughed, and sed—“ exchange is no
robbery, is it, sister Cal line 1”
“ No, sis,” ses she, “ hut I recon Joseph
got his pay bout the same time you stole
his ”
“ Stop, stop, sister, Major d'dn’t say his
heart”
“ There, there!” ses Miss Calline and
Miss Kesiah clappinther hands, and laugh
in as loud as they could—“ there, thete, lit
tle innocent sister’s let the cat out o’ the bag,
at last. 1 told you so, Major.”
I never felt so good afore in my life, and
Miss Mary, poor gall, hid her face in her
hands and begun to cry, she felt so bout it
—that’s the way with the galls, always
cry when they feel the happiest—but 1 soon
got her in a good humor, and then I went
home. I’m gwine to bring her rite up to
tlie mark Crismas, or 1 aint here. It. would
take a barber’s-shop full o’ Crotchetts to
back me out now. I’ll tell you how I come
out in my next. No more from
Your fiend, til cletli.
JOS. JONES.
For tho “ Southern Miscellany.”
WOULD-BE MONITORS.
“ First cast the beam out of thine own
eye, and then shult thou see clearly to cast
out the mote from thy brother’s,” is a com
mand found in tho Bible, and one perhaps
of more importance in its bearing on so
ciety than most men are apt to imagine. In
fact it is an essential part of that code of
morals which alone can unite in one bond
of union the members of civil community ;
yet with all its weight it is ofteuer neglect
ed than any other.
In every village there are some to he
found, who seem to ptide themselves so
much on their own goodness, their own
capability of forming correct conclusions on
all subjects, that they look down from'their
imaginary height with disdain upon all those
who dare differ with them. But let any
one follow a line of conduct adverse to their
preconceived notion of things, and the
brunt of venomed tongues must be borne
by the luckless wight: He is tailed at as
a disgrace to humanity (and no opprobrious
epithet may be imagined but what is ap
plicable to the unfortunate being,) who
dares advocate an opinion of his own. lie
is hell-born and hell-bound, whose belief in
morals does not exactly correspond with
these pinks of perfection. They act as it
they thought the withering fires of damna
tion were prepared to scorch them through
out eternity, unless they r watch with jealous
eye every kind of transaction ; they are the
self-constituted “ Penates” of every family ;
they seem to consider themselves bound to
act as judge, jury and lawmaker, and, woe,
unto that mau who comes under their con
scientious clutches. One would reasonably
suppose that these guardians of public mor
als, would themselves walk with the utmost
circumspection—that their lives would be
squared by revelation, from the frequent re
proofs which fall from their lips in every
company, and at all times. But by exer
cising some small portion of vigilance, we
invariably discover that they compose the
family of those who “strain at gnats and
swallow camels”—who act as if to them bad
been given, bysome secret dispensation, the
privilege of making their own morals, to he
changed at pleasure, or as if they had bought
at wholesale from “ Holy Church,” the right
of command over their consciences (quere,
if they have any ?) Even supposing them
sincere in believing those opposed to them
always wrong, and “vice versa,” we should
rationally conclude that these rebukes al
ways proceeded from those who have tire
weight of years and the benefit of experi
ence on their side. But no—these guar
diatis of the public weal turn out, often as
otherwise—to be beardless boys. Verily
the nineteenth century is a living monument
of the march of mind ! How thankful
should we be for having such keepers of
consciences—such,to whom we cat: transfer
our moral agency. Much we tvould thank
them if they could ensure our entrance into
a world of bliss after we leave their venera
ble and fatherly protection.
But this is not all—these “ holy beings”
produce a great deal of mischief in other
respects. How many by very dear exper
ience have found this out ? Have you had
a very dear friend with whom you were con
nected by ties, which angels might not blush
to own—to whom you could impart all your
joys and sorrows, and who alone made life
desirable I Have you had this dear friend
estranged from you by some secret, hidden
cause l Have you had this coolness to con
tinue until all seemed darkness and gloom
within, and you began to feel as if the sun
of happiness had nearly descended below
the horizon, and the dismal mantle of the
night of despair was enveloping you in its
folds! If you have known the anguish of
such an hour then you know something of
the mischief caused by these smooth-tongued
wretches, who have nothing to do but to at
tend to other people’s business—kind, con
siderate beings ! what generosity, what no
bleness of soul, to leave their own precious
concerns—to let their own affairs go to ruin
to manage those of others! Would not
this world be a pandemonium in a short
time, were these considerate souls swept
from the face of existence ? What bicker
ings, strife and hard feelings would then ex
ist, where now all is harmony, peace and
good will ?
And not only have these beings estranged
intimate companions, but whole families.—
Yea, verily,have we seen the strong cord of
friendship snapt asunder,and an unpassahle
gulf opened between those once devoted to
each other, by the secret machinations of
thes e. gentlemanly “ Pryinalls.” Have you
not beard of things of strange and evil im
port circulating about the village to the
detriment of your friends, which seemed to
have their origin in the winds ? And when
you have put investigation on the track, has
it not led you to the doors of those who have
brought themselves to believe they are in
duty bound to transact every one’s business
for them, whether they are willing or notl
We have heard it often remarked, “that
walls have ears;” and, verily, before we
had an introduction to these gentlemen, we
bad almost began to believe the assertion
They must most certainly possess the pow
er übiquity, or, at least, of divining every
thing that is doing or about to be done ; for
they know every thing better than any’on e
else. Mention any circumstance before
these gentry, and our life on it—however
trivial it may have been at first—however
much like a mole hill—they will soon rear
it into a mountain. They go about (notljjfo
the “ roaring lion,” for that good old nubl*
of the woods gives some intimation of h< B
approach) fiom house to house, from com
pany to company, seeking what gossip they
may obtain, and to retail what they have
collected at other places.
It may be well asked, why it is that these
things we have been writing of are so pre
valent ! We answer—for the very reason,
that the “ greatest of all Christian virtues,”
charity, is rarely found ; and the golden rule
which says, “ Do as you would be done by,”
is but seldom observed. H.
Oaford, Georgia.
For the “Southern Miscellany.”
INTERCEPTED CORRESPONDENCE.
LETTER NO. 11.
Panhandle, Pinhook Cos., Ga., \
Dec. mh, 1842. }
Mr. Edward Woodley:
Dear Edward, —Your unexpected letter,
dated Dec. 12th, so richly abounding with
complimentary allusions, and sentiments ex
pressive of the high regard which you en
tertain towards the weaker sex, communi
cated to my mind the emotions of astonish
ment without reflection; but when I peru
sed its lines, and for a moment deliberated,
1 found nothing but what is justifiable in the
character of a gentleman, and more or less
practiced throughout the literary world.—
From the love of improvement, and a sense
of propriety inspired by a consciousness of
the respect due the request contained in
yours, 1 feel permitted to commit a few
thoughts to paper in an epistolary form, for
your consideration and perusal at leisure.
However exhalted, or humble, the opinion
which you may entertain in relation to the
style, arrangement, or language of this let
ter, 1 hope you will not be so ungallant as to
expose its unmeaning contents to the lashing
criticism of any classical reviewer, so con;-
mon at this fashionable and improved ag*rof
the world. The pleasure eminating fiom
the enjoyment of an epistolary correspon
dence with friends, independent of any im
provement derived from the changing and
interchanging of sentiments, is certainly
worth the time employed, and labor expend
ed, in Jhe prosecution of such efforts. Con
templation, reflection, thought,reason, mem
ory, concentration, hope, fancy, understand
ing, and imagination are all called into live
ly exercise on such occasions, offer them
selves as prolific sources of bn man pleasure,
from which 1 am happy to say I derive
the greatest earthly enjoyment. The mind
is an active, willing, principle sentienuin
its nature, immortal in its being, and moral
ly free in the exercise of all its powers.—
‘I hen, the emotions and sensations which
arise in the mind, or which this active prin
ciple realizes at lhe reception of any object,
real or imaginary, must constitute the plea
sure enjoyed, or pain suffered. For just in
proportion to the cultivation and gratifica
tion of the higher and nobler powers of the
niind, enlightened by mature judgment, reg
ulated by moral principles and directed well
by the hand of propriety, so is the amount
of happiness enjoyed. Happiness, then, in
its purest state, must depend upon the well
improved developments, and moral culture
of the mind, freely exercised in all its
thoughts, powers, feelings, and affections.
Which demonstrates the fact that just in
proportion to the increased growth of intel
lect, human capacity expands its capabilities
for pleasure, and in the same ratio becomes
prepared for the enjoyment of happiness.—
From which enjoyment, the more contract
ed and less expansive minds must be forever
debased. Should you conclude to write
again, you will please give me your views
upon the constitution of the human mind;
and I remain,
Respectfully,
JULIA CLARINGDON.
Communicated.
PUBLIC MEETING.
At a meeting of the citizens of Madison,
held at the Court-House, on the 22d instant,
a Committee, consisting of Dr. E. E. Jones,
A. A. Overton, Wm. T. Thompson, Esq.,
L. Johnston, Esq. and Col. A. Rees, were
appointed to correspond with the Honorable
HENRY CLAY to ascertain at what time,
during his visit at the South, he will be in
our State, and to tender him the hospitali
ties of our Town whenever it may be agree
able to him to visit us. Said Committee
were authorized to call another meeting ns
soon as assurance from Mr. Clay is receiv
ed that he will take our place in his route,
and remain long enough to receive the con
gratulations of his fellow-citizens ; also, to
give intelligence to our own and neighbor
ing Counties.
Voted, That the proceedings of this meet
ing be signed by the Chairman and Secre
tary and published ir. the “ Southern Mis
cellany” and “Chronicle & Sentinel.”
E. E. JONES, Chairman.
A. A. Overton, Secretary.
How to have a sharp Razor. —Take a
strap of thick harness leather, the size you
want for a strap, and fasten it at each end
upon a piece of wood, then rubupon its sur
face a piece of tin, (any tin dish will do) un
til it is smooth. Strap your razor upon this,
and you will find it worth all the patent
straps that were ever invented.