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signntion whilst he was in the halls of Caval
canti? He could not pursue the train of
thought—’twas too harrowing, suicidal of
happiness.
The count was visited next morning by
the family physician, to report the state of
Bianca’s health. The disorder, he said,
wasneither imminent nordmigerous—a low
ness of spirits and melancholy, in fact, hys
teria. To Lorenzo’s question, whether she
coulJ hear the fatigue of a visit, the physi
cian thought it advisable—though Ins opin
ion was formed from a wish hinted hy the
countess, rather than from the nature of the
malady—that monsignor should defer see
ing the patient. But she had one request
to make—one favor to ask the count.
“ Ah !” exclaimed the pleased magnifico,
“ it is granted ere asked.”
It was to the effect, as the learned doctor
said, that the count would not defer his pro
mised pleasure of partaking the festivities
through her indisposition—it would add to
her illness and distress if she knew lie staid
away. The count let fall a headroll of gold,
which he had been passing thiough his fin
gers.
“Is monsignor sick ]” exclaimed the
physician, remarking the paleness and agi
tation of his patron.
“No!” replied Lorenzo, impatiently;
“tell me—did the countess herself say what
you have just recounted ?”
The Esculapian replied that he had al
ready quitted the signora’s chamber, ere the
request was entrusted to his delivery by the
waiting-woman, Francesca.
“The accursed fiend !” exclaimed the
count, emphatically. The physician betray
ed a discreet surprise, but Lorenzo bade
him be silent as death as to wbul had es
caped his lips. He was then commissioned
to return to the sick chamber, and make
happy the invalid with the assurance that
Della Scala should he found among the
maskers that night, and would as carefully
absent himself from the side of his wife’s
•ick couch.
“ Monsignor ]” exclaimed the medical
retainer in lone expostulatory.
“ Nay—then sofion it n you will, Signor
Agostino,” rejoined Lorenzo with a curl of
the lip.
Evening approached, and the count stood
alone in Itis dressing-room, contemplating
in silence a magnificent suit of apparel, the
costume of a mixed monastic and warlike
order of German knighthood, of which he
was a leading dignitary. This was the ar
ray chosen to adorn a firm worthy to sit be
side the peerless Bianca, on an occasion in
which he felt touched by vinity to display
to his countrymen how improved was the
half forgotten youth who. in years long past,
had forsaken the vales of sunny Italy, and
a dolcefar niente existence for the turbu
lence of grim war—how worthy to match
with the loveliest mate Verona boasted !
The rich robes were presently flung aside
with a bitter smile. He selected a far hum
bler suit, a close habit of dark velvet, sprin
kled by the embroiderer’s hand with leaves
ofjgold, which, with cloak, domino-mask and
cap, without plume or decoration, complet
ed an equipment that rather betokened in
tention of intrigue or adventuie than desire
of reveling in the merriment and grandeur
of the scene.
“ Now the fox against the fox—if it must
be so!” exclaimed the count, sorrowfully.
Over the dark cloak he threw a military
mantle of bright scarlet, and surmounted
the close velvet cap-in ordinary with a plum
ed hat.
Though loath to indulge in suspicion, yet
once suspecting, Lorenzo exhibited a wary
subtle spirit, which had oft outwitted the
warlike foe, and now rendered him a dan
gerous adversary to Visconti. He made
no confident, employed no spy, lest the hon
or of Bianca should be compromised ; but,
acting on the impression that his departure
should be watched, kept a wary eye, search
ing every where through the gloom in his
progress to the mansion of the Signor
Cavalcanti. Foiled in the first survey, lie
entered the wide spread doors, but turned
aside from the halls of revel, and dofling
mantle, mask and plumed hat, found exit at
the garden gate, and was again in Verona’s
streets, the dark cloak shading the face, hill
ing the well-known figure outlie count. —
He approached stealthily his own domicile,
sometimes forced to turn aside to avoid be
ing recognized in the glare of torch and
flambeau-lighting beauty to the scene of
gaiety.
The was gloomy but quiet—the
Palazzo Della Scala in view. Should he
—yes —the thought must have utterance
though it choke him—should lie Hud Vis
conti within I A shade moved along the
wall—it pauses—turns the western angle,
stops beneath a balcory, projecting from a
window, which Della Scala remembered
gave light to a corridor leading to Bianco's
suite of chambers. Will the intruder dare
scale the palazzo? The count approaches
warily, his hand on his poniard. Is it Vis
conti I No, for the stranger pulls the chain
affixed to the bell—it is a love affair with
some menial of the household. Alt! no—
it is tiie enemy to his honor! Lorenzo has
caught a glimpse of his face. “ Bianca,
hasten—our moments are precious !” mur
mured Alberto, unconscious of his chiding
soliloquy being overheard.
“Ah ! that name profaned by thee !” ex
claimed the count, seizing his rival by the
throat.
“ Della Scala !” cried Alberto, in utter
alarm and confusion, feeling for his weapon.
“ Visconti!” rejoined Lorenzo. The
sharp dagger’s stroke was sole echo to the
exclamation.
“ The traitor’s path—the traitor’s law !’’
muttered the count, as he flung the inani
mate, bleeding corpse out of view from the
balcony window.
The frame of Lorenzo shook with the
strong indignation of his soul—should fie I
rush in and wreak vengeance on—whom ?
Francesca, Bianca? Were they both guiliy?
Had he proof of Bianca’s guilt ? The win
dow opened above, and the count stepped
moodily beneath the balcony, with scarcely
mastery over his feelings to practice the
dissimulation. “ Signor, are you below ?”
was whispered by the well-known voice of
Francesca. Della Scala ground his teeth
in silent rage—he could r.ot speak, but his
very soul was bent on knowing to what ex
tent the tempted as well as the tempters
had erred —so he thrust up bis hand to inti
mate his presence. No words were spoken,
but he felt a billet placed between liis fin
gers; be grasped it; and the window was
immediately closed, Lorenzo withdrew to
the lamp suspended over the side entrance
to the offices.
Good heavens! what sees he? ‘t is the
handwriting of Bianca ! her own slightly
traced, delicate character! In one hour
from the present, she will quit the pulnzzo
with Francesca; meet him behind the ruin
ed Santa Croce Chapel to fly to a happier
land ; may God forgive her the flight !
Lorenzo was unnerved, reclined stupified
against his palazzo; ’twas a total wreck of
happiness he experienced ; no hope, no
sympathy. He wept the ruin which had
fallen; which love had blinded him to ! But
vengeance was yet unsatisfied, its torch could
only be extinguished by the puislirneniit of
all ; the tempter and the tempted ; the des
troyer and the destroyed!
In one hour! the lime was but short to
prepare the means of vengeance. He had
no near kinsman, no cherished friend in
whom he might confide, was almost the on
ly scion of the ancient house whose name
he bore. With a sigh, he called to his aid
Roberto, a military valet who had shared
the dangers of his many campaigns. By
Roberto’s assistance, the corpse of Visconti
was removed to a place of security, and the
trustiest household retainers of Della Scala
arrayed in secret, under cover of the night.
In Bianca’s dressing chamber was a silver
crucifix, before which she had often bowed
in prayei. How fearfully and askance she
now looked at it; now, whilst the ready,
active Francesca was preparing for flight !
Poor Bianca! she would have knelt, but
dare not. Sunk on her couch, she turned
an idle eye on the rapid movements of the
waiting-maid.
“Signora, I am ready, pray have courage
for the last effort !”
“ Would I knew the end of this ; I fear
the count will die of grief !” said Bianca.
“Not he—the race of them are made of
ulmngor .stuff” replied Frnnresca; “blit I
know the ending—l have had it foretold.
The signora lias heard of her they call the
Sybil, who lives in the Strada di Vicenza ?”
“ I know her not,” rejoined the countess,
with a vacant stare.
“ I will relate all to the signora as we
walk to the Santa Croce,” said Francesca,
who, seeing the necessity of acting a reso
lute part, tendered her arm to assist her mis
tress to rise. Bianca obeyed the gentle
force ; she cast a look toward the toilet over
which hung the crucifix; hut amidst the
golden coin which Lorenzo had placed at
her disposal, her eyes encountered the cas
ket which held his peerless gift. She hur
ried away, whilst the maid thought her mis
tress uttered a slight cry.
Beyond the walls of Verona, to the north
ward, far from any habitation, stood the
ruins of the Santa Croce, where, in ancient
times, had dwelt a small brotherhood of
monks, whose principal vocation was the
dispensation of food and shelter to pooi tra
velers, more especially pilgrimseomingfrom
the far north to visit the miraculous shrines
and relics of Italy. Hither wended alone,
not without fear and trembling, Bianca and
her attendant, both concealed from the re
cognition of prying eyes by masks, aud
shrouded in riding mantles.
“ Seo, signora ! they are coming to meet
us!” cried Francesca, to encourage her
mistress. She pointed on three horsemen
who emerged from behind the ruins. ‘J he
chief approached, and dismounting, placed
liis linger across his mask, a signal accom
panied by a half turn of the head in the di
rection of his companions, as though lie
were afraid the voice of Bianca or her maid
would he recognised, and wished to impress
the necessity of silence. He conducted the
countess with great show of tenderness to a
commodious litter, whose huithen was borne
by two horses harnessed abreast.
“ 1 fear Alberto expects pursuit—bow lie
trembles ! liis hand quite shook as its grasp
ed mine,” whispered Bianca, to her attend
ant, as the latter was placed beside her mis
tress; “horror surrounds me ; 1 dread evil
will befall us; 1 feel cold, foilorn ; pray for
me, Alberto,” exclaimed the grief-struck
lady, now addiessing her lover, as he drew
close the cm tains of the litter and was pre
paring to mount.
“ Pray for its both, Bianca!” replied he,
in a low voice, as lie spurred forward to
take the lead.
The night wore on in gloom, hut occa
sionally the wind made rent in the driven
cloud rack, and the inoftn or stars flooring
through, distinctly marked the character of
the territory in which they traveled. On
the left lay the broad river, on the right a
hilly country, softened by vineyards, gar
dens, villas, and backed by mountains which
mingled with the Tyrolean masses.
Often, during the journey, did Bianca si
lently wonder Alberto came not to the litter
to soothe her, whilst the same feeling found
Francesca in loud lamentation, mixed with
reproaches against the whole tribe of un
feeling lovers. Left to their own consola
tion, however, they came to the conclusion
that it behoved Visconti to be ever on the
alert, ’and that he could not trust himself
with tender thoughts. The road after
awhile grew more rugged uneven, and the
litter was much jolted. On drawing aside
the curtains, they found themselves ysccnd
ing n sleep, winding hillside, shadowed by
overhanging forest trees. Gloomy and more
gloomy grew the path, the sound of rush
ing water was heard, and, turning a short
angle, they crossed a biidgc spanning an
abyss, beneath which roared the sullen cata
ract. Branching from the road, the caval
cade entered a dense forest track, and
emerging thence, Francesca, who had been
on the lookout, uttered a cry of delight on
beholding a facade of a country palazzo with
long colonnade. Lights gleamed to and fro
—indication of guests being expected—and
even Bianca felt a comparative freshness of
spirits, which she had been a stranger to
during the journey. Crossing a sluggish
canal, they halted beneath the piazza. Lo
renzo came forward, assisted Bianca from
the litter, and led her into n handsome ves
tibule. Francesca was pi evented following
her mistress by one of the horsemen, on
some plea unheard by Bianca.
Q fl> qitt HUH ii St l. HUMIEILILiISJiy*
Lorenzo, without unmasking, conducted
the countess from the vestibule to a saloon
brilliantly lighted.
“ How grand ! Is the villa thine, Albert"?
Would 1 had the spirits to he pleased with
this splendor! But why retain the mask —
is there a meaning in it ? some sportive fan
cy ? alas! the occasion is unstated for
mirth !”
Lorenzo only replied by placing his fin
ger across the mask, and leading the aston
ished countess to a second saloon; it was
yet more magnificent, and elicited her ad
miration.
“ Have you guests, Alberto ? Are we safe
i so near Verona?” exclaimed sl>e.
| He replied only by pointing to a half clos
! ed door, from which gleamed forth light,
j 1 hey entered—it was the most superb sa
loon of the suite. She looked round in
amazement. The most conspicuous deco
j ration was a large portrait, representing a
youth in hawking costume. She started.
“ llow like it is to Aim /” exclaimed Bi
anca, “ let us leave this room, dear Alberto;
those eyes follow me !” and she assumed a
winning, playful look to persuade him ito re
turn.
“ It is him, and I am he!” cried, the fi
gure, in a stern voice, whilst the falling mask
disclosed the face of Della Scala.
Bianca’s hand was held in the firrp grasp
of Lorenzo. Her features yet retained
somewhat of their mirthful expression, as
though conviction of the awful change came
slowly—was too great for the mind to re
alize. Bereft of utterance, she gazed on
the unexpected apparition—appalled, petri
fied, with dismay—and as honor gradually
fixed itsseal on her features her form shrunk
crouching from the fixed gaze of Lorenzo,
He loosened his grasp, and, with a wild cry,
she sunk on “the floor.
“ Bianca Guidoni!” exclaimed Pella
Scala. ,
“ Lorenzo ! O, cover me, earth'cried
the unhappy lady, dairying her facgjjn her
hands. She heard him move, and behold
ing in imagination the uplifted poniard,
threw herself on her knees, imploring by
silent gesture liis mercy. To anti fro, be
several times passed before her, with'slow
step, os though debating the mode of re
venge—his stern unbending glance cast up
on her beseeching figure, whilst the thick
breathing denoted the inward struggle of
his soul. Tears at length came to lay re
lief. and she ejaculated—
“ Have you brought me here to die ?”
“ Why wantest thou to know—hast* any
parting wish ?” asked Lorenzo.
“O! spare Alberto, if he is thy captive,”
she exclaimed, “judge him not too harshly
—we loved when love was no offence, and
did intend to fly together beyond my cruel
father’s reach. I crave only mercy for him
—with me is the fault, let mine be the pe
nalty—it was I who templed him !”
“ Liar!” cried Lorenzo, fiercely, “ it was
he who tempted you—hut he is dead!”
Bianca shrieked fearfully, as though her
soul were flown, and fell prone on the floor
in a deep swoon. Lorenzo contemplated
her prostrate form in silence. Tears fell
frorrrhis eyes.
“Yes! be is dead ! and dead be now
my revenge! O, Bianca!” exclaimed the
count, bearing the insensible lady to a coucb,
“ if we had known each other earlier, how
happy might have been our fate! Fare
well ! and since thou knowest it nos, once
more adieu !”
Bending over her, Lorenzo for the lust
time placed his lip to hers, and fled the sa
loon.
Francesca, by the count’s secret order,
hud been hurried into the litter and conduct
ed back to Verona, whither Della Htala re
paired, having first conveyed liis instructions
to the household respecting the countess.
After a long conference with Count Cuiilo
ni, followed by interviews with the kinsmen
of Visconti (whose domestics at the Santa
Groce had been captured and held in du
rance by Della Scuta’s retainers, who took
their post,) and with the nuthoiit'u-s <if,the
city, he quitted Verona, quitted Italy,, a for
lorn, unhappy man, seeking, in the military
struggles of European warfare, the happi"-
ness lie missed in domestic life.
Bianca fonnd an instance of tlieclemencv
of Lorenzo in her permitted retention of
the honors and privileges attachi <1 to jthe
house of Della Scala, together wiih life use
of the villa to which she had been convey
ed. But she preferred the penitential se
clusion of a convent, and lived to regret and
iiiouin, not the fatal mistake of Francesca,
which betrayed the lover's plans, hut her
own fatal mistake in yielding to temptation,
which urged her to fly to the indulgence of
a criminal affection, from hallowed bonds
which cainiut he broken without infringing
laws both human and divine.
Francesca, unworthy of Lorenzo’s ven
geance, was banished the state of Verpna,
at the instance of Count Guitioui, wliilsVlbe
sad history we have narrated was long talk
ed of, ami added one more to the time-hon
ored legends of Vtr.ma.
[MQ©©[g[LLAMY 0
Female Defaulters. —The New York
Evening Post says—“ It has been the prac
tice in the Post Office Department, to ap
point the wives of deceased postmasters as
their successors, in those cases in which it
was agreeable to the people. The practice
has been in operation a great many years,
and the number of females who have thus
held office is quite large. During all this
time, there lias not occurred n single in
stance of defalcation among them. Though
it. is no compliment to a person to he faith
ful and honest, for this is a matter of duty,
yet it is especially honorable to be so arr.id
these times and temptations in which many
fall astray.”
* • h
Alarming. —Some of our exchanges notice
with expressions of concern and anxietv
the alarming fact that the Earth, since Just
J one, lias been rapidly approach ing th e Sun.
There is something terrible in this beyond
all doubt. io quiet their nerves, however,
it might he well for those who are sadly
frightened to look into a spelling-book and
ascertain the shape of the Earth’s orbit
round the Sun. Perhaps we shall not run
into that luminary after all K Y Tribune.
The Earthquake. —The shock of the
earthquake of the 4th Jan. was experienced
over a very extensive range of country.
On the Ohio river it was felt as high as
Marietta ; on’ the Mississippi as high up as
Burlington, lowa Territory; through the
* middle and southern parts of Indiana and
Illinois: also throughout Kentucky and
Tennessee, and indeed on the other side of
the Cumberland mountains, at various
places in Georgia and South Carolina quite
to the seaboard. Down the Mississippi we
heard of it to Vicksburg. The centre of
the,greatest violence was probably near
New Madrid, somewhat noted for being the
seat nfrhis sent of action in the bowels ofthe
earth, more frequently than any other tract
in North America beyond the volcanic re
gions of Mexico. A hunter from St. Fran
cis, Arkansas, reports at Memphis that a
deep lake had been formed hy the earth’s
sinking on that river; he, with some com
panions, had been hunting on that very
ground, and as liis companions bad not been
heard of since, it was believed they had per
ished,
A Post Master in a Fix. —A letter has
been received at a Post Office, in Union,
Maine, addressed “to the prettiest girl in
Union.” Now it is the duty ofthe Post
master to deliver all letters and papers,
when called for by the right person so we
do not see but that upon him will devolve
the awful responsibility of deciding who is
the “ prettiest girl in Union.” For if lie de
livers it to the wrong owner, and the right
one loses it, he would be clearly liable.
Walk up ladies and piesent your claims.
Who would’nt like to he Postmaster of
Union just now.— Mobile Herald.
Manufactures at The South. —Cotton
manufactures are beginning to spring up in
the midst of the fields where the raw mate
rial is grown. The Natchez Free trader
states that Mr. John J. Robinson, a Scotch
gentleman, is now engaged in erecting a
suitable building in Jefferson county, Mis
sissippi, for the purpose of manufacturing
cotton bagging, jeans, linseys, towels, and
coarse cloth used by the planters on their
farms for the clothing of negroes.
America and Europe. —Some idea may
be formed ofthe increased relations bet ween
this country and Europe since the aditional
facilities furnished by the steam-packets,
when it is stated that the Caledonia brought in
her mail for Boston, 27,000 letters, and 25
bushels of papers. The post bill for New
Yolk city deliveiy was nearly $3,000; that
for Philadelphia SSOO, and that for New
Orleans over S6OO. — Wash. Spectator.
© 13 0 © 0 N A [L
For (he “Southern Miscellany.”
House of Rej.renewtatires, Jan. \ith, IS 13.
: —Mr. Levy submitted tbe following reso
lution, which was considered and adopted :
Resolved, That the Secretary of War he
required to furnish to this House a copy of
the report and survey ..f the month of the
Suwanee liver in Florida, and the estimate
for said work; and that he also furnish to
this House an estimate of the cost of sur
veying a route for a railroad to connect the
waters of the St. John’s and Suwanee riv
ers.— Washington “Globe.”
Mr. Editor —Please to insert the above
“ resolution,” and allow me to add a few
historical and general remarks on the sub
ject.
For many ye?rs back, it has been a great
desideratum with many enterprising men of
the country, to agitate the construction of a
commercial thoroughfare across the penin
sula of Floiida, in order to obviate the dis
tance and danger, hy sea, around the cape
(and among the Bahamalslands)as a channel,
or route, of commercial transportation be
tween the Northern and Southern Atlantic
cities, and New Orleans, Mobile and other
cities tin the Gulf of Mexico.
The first thing to ascertain was, whether
the object was practicable and to what ex
tent.
In 1825 it U'as brought before the public,
and from interviews and correspondence,
and the co-operation of highly influential
members of Congress, the subject was fa
vorably introduced to that body in the win
ter of *1825 and 6.
The late lamented Col. Joseph M. White,
then delegate from Florida, brought it be
fore the House of Representatives in such
an impressive and masterly manner—devel
oping the great national importance of the
object—that Congress, with acclamation,
readily appropriated 820,000, and directed
a thorough survey of the peninsula, with the
view of a ship canal, or steamboat thorough
fare, between the Atlantic and the Gulf of
Mexico; either from the harbour of St. Ma
rys and Amelia Island,or from the St. Johns
river. The surveys were executed hy two
corps of United States Engineers, embrac
ing all the Middle and Northern part of the
peninsula and Isthmus, and the Northern
margin of the Gulf to the Mississippi river,
through Lake Ponchartrain and Bayou
Manshac above New Orleans, and embrac
ing that city also.
In 1828, 810,400 more was appropriated
and expended in defining the route selected
from Black creek to the Suwanee river,
boreing the earth,sinking shafts, &c—which
resulted in the impracticability of a canal of
sufficient magnitude, for want of sufficient
feeders across the summit; and only sat G
feet water, best channel, among tbe Oyster
banks, at the mouth of the Suwanee, and
only 8 at 9 feet, at high water, and a very
dangerous bar at the mouth of the St. Johns
river, with only at 5 feet at low tide.
The Government published in pamphlet
form Gen. Barnard’s voluminous report in
1828, anil an extensive map of the survey in
1829 ; and thus finding the national object
sought for impracticable, it was abandoned
by Congress. The teport and map furnish
ed the friends of the enterprise extensive
and useful information.
Il enabled them to discover that if ever
the object could be effected, it must be done
by rail road, nnd that too, in a far more nor
thern route than from St. Marys or St. Johns
river, in order to avoid exposure by sea,
sounds, and inland navigation on the Ailan
tic side, and, also on the Gulf side, between
the place of entrance into the Gulf of Mexi
co, and New Orleans and Mobile; and par
ticularly in case of war, in order to render
the approaches to the thoroughfare secure
from the ships and cruisers of an enemy.
Consequently, a rail road route was sub
sequently selected, for individual capital,
from Brunswick, Georgia, across the Isth
mus of Florida to St. Joseph on the Gulf of
Mexico; hut that was found, also, too far
South, through a barren country and sparse
population, and has exploded and gone back
to oblivion, to rest forever in “the tombofthe
Capulets.” It did not explode for the want
•>f money, hut for the want of the right sort
of Engineering talents, and common honesty,
to execute the work of a short 10 mde steam
boat canal, through level tide land from the
splendid port of Brunswick to the Altama
bu liver.
Another route lias since been selected
from the port of Savannah to run west to
wards the Gulf of Mexico, with the view of
transporting the great mail, passengers and
merchandise, between the Atlantic, Mobile
and New Orleans, and all other intermedi
ate business of transportation, each way ;
but that route is, also, too far South to secure
the safety and dispatch required for the pro
motion of the great national object desi red,
between New York and all the Atlantic
cities and New Orleans, and the cities of the
Gulf States, either in time of peace or war.
All the routes and schemes to cut off the
C apes and Keys of I< lorida south of Charles
ton, have become exploded ; and hence it is
novel to conjecture what object or benefit
could have prompted the I\.m Master Gen
eral to have caused a letter to him from St.
Augustine, Honda, to be published in the
National Inteligencer of December the 20th;
and also, of the adoption of the resolution
by Congress, at the head of this article, to
re-agitate the Government and the country
upon so visionary and exploded an object
already abandoned by Congress, and indi
vidual enterprise, long ago. A celebrated
Engineer wrote me on the 7th tilt, as fol
lows : “I agree with you that the proposed
Florida scheme is entirely visionary. 1 have
no idea that travel and the mail will he risk
ed at sea farther than can possibly he help
ed. The Post Master General is convinced
of this, hut in order to frighten the present
carriers of the mail, he causes those com
munications to he published. By these
means he hopes to bring us to better terms
at the approaching letting.”
The main original object, however, is still
the same, and the demand for it dailv in
creasing with the increase of population,
travel and commerce oft he country, between
the Atlantic States and the States on the
Gulf of Mexico, to wit; a great national
thoroughfare across the country, most ad
vantageous to cut off the route by sea around
the peninsula of Florida.
Experienceand practiealdemons!rati. >n has
enabled allimpartial mindsto discover that if
should he as little exposed to the risk and de
laysot theseaaiid the sounds,and iulaiidcriNik*
ed navigation along the Atlantic coast as j><,a
sihle. and, also, upon ihe uni them margin
of the Gulf of Mexico, and especially in case
of war at any future day. The main ques
tion should, thereto!e, now be considered
as settled, that Charleston is the most south
ern and nearest important port to New York
and the Atlantic cities to start a national
iail road thoroughfare across the country,
in the most direct practical route for Mont
gomery, Mobile, Ngw Orleans and the Gulf
States.
The greatest dispatch and safely, between
New \ oik and the city of Washington,
Charleston, Mobile and New Oilennsfand
all intermediate points, is the grand object
desiied ; and any local feelings, petty inter
ests, or foolish “Stale pride” should merge
ir, the general welfare.
The “lines and boundaries of a State”
ought not to be viewed as connected w ith
the subject. It is a great national object for
binding Slates together, and perpetuating
the Union and its general prosperity. The
States of South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama,
Mississippi and Louisiana are all mutually
interested in promoting this great national
rail road thoroughfare across the country, to
cut off the long, dangerous route hy sea,
around the Cape and Keys of Florida, or
the upper route by steamboats from New
Oilcans and the Ohio river.
The topographical location of Georgia, ns
well as South Carolina and Alabama, to
gether with their superior advantages of
winter climate over that of the North, are
destined by nature to placethese three States
in the front rank of some great national ob
ject of internal improvement, mutually, for
their own and the national benefit; and
Georgia is placed in the most important cen
tral location of either. She has so many
great and increasing states of wealth—pop
ulation and agriculture lying, as it were at
her back and side, whose best interests can
only be promoted by crossing her territory,
to get to an Atlantic market, instead of de
scending rivers to the Gulf of Mexico, nnd
be subjected to the long, circuitous, and dan
gerous route by sea, around the Capes and
Keys of Florida—that she may be literally
compared to a large plantation, located be
tween an extensive neighborhood and a mill
and a meeting house, across which it might
be found indispensihly necessary that roads
should be opened for the convenience, hap
piness, and the comforts of life and necessi
ty, of a community of people thus situated.
A man cannot get rich without intercourse
with his neighbors, neither can a State.—
Sound money and property, free trade and
fair competition is the basis of liberty, and
the true stimulent of man to put forth his
mind, labor, talents and perseverance, and
become an exemplary, virtuous citizen—a
lover of good order and Government, and a
useful being to himself and family, and to
his country. >
1 have always believed from the outset
that the project of the rail road from Augus
ta,as a continuation of the road fromCliarles
ton, was a judicious one, if properly located
across the State, pointing towards Mont
gomery, Mobile and New Orleans, fora na
tional thoroughfare; which the States of
Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana may
hereafter, when able, extend from Mont
gomery westwardly, until it shall intersect
the New Orleans and Nashville rail road
just above Lake Ponchaitrain ; and thus a
great reciprocal commercial avenue aero
the country will be opened for the gene/t
prosperity between the Atlantic State,
the Gulf States. * n ”
Such a national thoroughfare,even should
it not be extended for many yeni* and
than Montgomery, will divert, for the betuj
an immense amount of transportation of D £
duce, merchandise and travel, and nbu
1 tlie ,OSB goods by sea, and many li Veß J?
nually, around the Capes and Keys of p| °
! ida, by giving greater dispatch and safe’
across Georgia, South Carolina and Al
bum a ; and in ease of war at any future and 8
its national advantages and benefits
be incalculable. u “
I have always entertained a favorable
opinion of this route for a rail road across
Georgia to West Point, because it will hay
no navigable river, inland steamboat navf
gation, or parallel rail road to contend with’
and it can always outstrip, in dispatch, com’
fort and economy to the planter, the’ mcr
chant, the traveler, and the transportation
of the mail, the old fashion mode of
age and singeing over bad roads.
Here lies the true field for raising the
standard of “State pride” and prospeiity
in which Georgia and the Gulf Stales, and
South Carolina, will become joint partners
and which can never be competed with by
other rail roads west of Augusta, or steam
boat navigation; but will ever receive aux
ilir.ry support from those two modes of trans
portation in Alabama and Mississippi And
the “State rail road,” and the Monroe rail
road in Georgia, should they ever he com
pleted north of Griffin to the Tennessee riv
er, together with the southern end of that
load below Griffin, as far as Macon, will al
so become auxiliary to this great east and
west national thoroughfaie.at I he/uW where
it may cross that road.
The cast and west line will always accu
mulate more trade, travel, and the transpor
tation of the great mail, whether “finished
first or last, ’ than the north and south line;
because Macon and Savannah ate toofa'r
south of the most direct route, hack and
forth, between New Orleans, Mobile, Mont
gomery, West Point. Augusts’, ( 1 arlestin.
Washington city, Baltimore, Philadelphia*
and New- York.
1 he.se, however, are the two great nation
al arteries through and across the Slate,
which, it they can ever be finished in a prop
er manner, will then enable the State of
Georgia to stand as ilie God of nature evi
dently designed her to stand, to wit: with
open arms to hci sister States on her exten
sive northern and western boundaries, and
to reciprocate w ith them in trade, transpor
tation and general prosperity, through and
across her territory, from two vast and dis
tinct quarters of the Union—from Tennes
see and beyond, on the north, and from New
Orleans, Mississippi and Alabama, on the
west.
Y hat local mind,or even a Georgian with
one eye, could wish to defeat, hy his vote
or voice, an object of such expansive inter
est, prospoi ity, and national magnitude to
llie Stale and the country ?
T he people of the interior of Georgia anil
the neighboring States are capable of judg
ing for themselves, in regard to their own in
terests oftrr.de, travel, and commerce, when
all the great markets on the Atlantic ate
thrown open to their tight of choice, and fair
commercial competition. “Patriotism,” or
local predilections, or the boundaries of
Stares have nothing to do with the “laws of
trade” and self-interest.
The people are inherently disposed, when
in their power, to send their produce and
property of trade to that market where
they can obtain the best prices and a uvud
cut/envy, and procure their return supplies
on the liest terms. This main thoroughfare,
therefore, between New York and New
Orleans, by way of Charleston, Auguste,
Madison, West Point and Montgomery, will
always afford the predominating facilities to
promote the above result to the merchants,
planters and the great mass of the people of
Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisi
ana—as it can be easily intersected on loth
sides, along the whole line, by wagonage
and tributary rail roads.
The company sioflf, therefore, will ulti
mately become an object of interest to the
capitalists of the northern and southern cit
ies and Stales. Should it cross the Monroe
rail rood at Griffin, it would receive all the
auxiliary trade, transportation and travel at
that place, from the “ State tail road” to the
Tennessee liver on the north, which k woald
receive bv running from Madison to White
hall, DeKalb county, and there terminate;
and, at the same time, from Griffin, it would
have West Point, Montgomery, New Or
leans and all the Gulf States in prospective
certainty directly ahead, whether the “State
road” to Tennessee river should ever be fin
ished or not.
At Griffin, it would pass convenient to all
those rich cotton counties on the south of
the line, as far as Macon ; nnd should the
merchants of that city ever find it to their
oxen interests, or convenience, to Bend their
cotton from Macon on the rail road, by way
of Griffin, to Augusta, or Charleston, to pay
a debt, or purchase goods,or to obtain a bet
ter price or better currency, and to receive
their goods in return by the same channel,
they would then have it in their power to
do so. The merchants of Macon would
then have “ two strings to their bow,” for
trade and commuriicetion, and travel, w’itli
New York or Charleston, accotding to the
fluctuHtionsof prices and the currency, which
would nlvvnys govern their choice, in the di
rection on the rail road, they might select,
for the piomotion of their own inlcrestsand
convenience. Cotton car-wheels will run
as quick and cheap one way as the other,
ftom Macon to Griffin, and there turn KAfsT
for Madison, Augusta or Charleston. Who
can command the freight but the people*-,
met chants and planters, who the prop
erty 1 Every man in this country (so far)
has the right to choose bis market, in the in
terior or on the Atlantic; and pay the “com
mon carriers” (by rail road, wagon, naviga
tion, or otherwise) their freight, on one rail
road, as well as another.
Macon, therefore, Will not be injured, but
benefited, as the writer conceives, by having
“two strings to her bow.” If her merchants
and planters cannot better promote their
interests and convenience by sending their
cotton on the rail road, by the way of CMC*