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MQg©[ELL^MY 0 •
Female Beauty. —Mrs. Ellis, in her
“ Daughters of England,” disconrseth thus
truthfully in relation to female beauty :
Those who are accustomed l< enlighten
ed views on this subject, will know that there
are different kinds of female beauty, among
which those of form and coloring hold an in
ferior rank. There is beauty of expression,
for instance, of sweetness, of nobility, nfin
tellectual refinement, of feeling, of anima
tion, of meekness, of resignation, and many
other kinds of beauty, which may all he al
lied to the plainest features, and yet may re
main to give pleasure long after the bloom
ing cheek has faded, and silver grey lias
mingled with the hair. And how far more
powerful in their influence upon others are
some of those kinds of beauty ; for, after
all, beauty depends more upon the move
ment of the face, than upon the form of the
features when at rest; and thus a counten
ance habitually under the influence of ami
able feelings, acquires a beauty of the high
est order, from the frequency with which
such feelings are the originating cause of
the movements or expressions which stamp
their character upon it.
Who lias not waited for the opening of the
lips of some celebrated belle, to see wheth
er her claims woidd be suppoited by “ the
mind, the music breathing from her face 1”
and who has not occasionally turned away,
repelled by the utter blank, or worse than
blank, which the simple movement of her
mouth, in speaking or smiling, has revealed ?
The langnage of poetry describes the loud
laugh as indicative of the vulgar mind ; and
certainly there are expressions, conveying
even through the medium of a smile, which
need no Lavater to inform us that refine
ment of feeling or elevation of soul has lit
tle to do with the fair countenance on w hich
they are impressed. On the other hand,
plain women are sometimes met within so
ciety, every movement of whose features is
instinct with intelligence; who, from the
genuine heart-warm smiles which play about
the mouth, the sweetly modulated voice, ami
the lightening up of an eye that looks as if
itcoull;“comprehend the universe,” become
perfectly beautiful to those who live with
them and love them. Before such preten
sions to beauty as these, how soon do the
pink, and white, and merely pretty faces
vanish into nothing.
Most Romantic Affair —Two Elopements
and a Wedding. —About two years since
(says the Boston Times) a young man came
to this city from Belchertown in this State,
and entered a dry-good store in Washington
street as a salesman. His steady habits,
and attention to his business won him the
regard of his employer, while his respectful
courtesy and manly beauty secured the good
favor of lady customers of the store. —
Among the latter was a very beautiful young
daughter of one of our most respectable
citizens. A sort of telegraphic intercourse
was established between the two, and it
was not long before it was followed by a
regular introduction ami intimacy. We
should have said that Mr. B had inheri
ted a small property from his deceased pa
rent, and this may have had some weight
with the father and mother of the young
lady, by whom the the young man was soon
considered as their future son-in-law. So
matters being arranged, all went “merry as
a mariiage hell”—when lo! there appeared
upon the carpet a dashing New York tailor,
who proposed to the father of the affianced
girl, to remove to New York, and enter into
business with him on a grand scale in Chat
ham street. From the moment of this pro
posal the prospect of young B changed,
the parents of the young lady looked cold
upon him, and the poor girl was soon in
formed that she must dismiss her suitor, and
accept the hand of the dashing schneider. —
Her remonstrance and tears were of no avail,
and her family prepared to leave for New
York. Her old lover, however, found
means to see her and jrersuaded her to elope
with him—and one day they rode out to
Dedham, and there took seats in the accom
modation railroad train to Providence.—
At Providence, however, the steamboat in
which they had engaged a passage to New
York was detained by fog, and the father of
the girl, who had somehow got wind of the
affair, arrived at Providence, and obtained
possession-of his fugative daughter. The
lover returned to town alone and despairing
—and the family of the girl removed with
her to New York, a few days afterwards.—
In that city she was soon forced into giving
a reluctant consent to marrying the tailor.—
Every thing was arranged for celebrating
the nuptials in a most splendid manner ;
and, strange to say, the girl appeared
“nothing loth.” The ceremony was to
take place at St. John’s chapel, and nutner
ousguests were invited to the wedding party.
Ou the very day appointed for the marriage,
however, the bride disappeared. There
was much “ raceing and chasing” in pursuit
of her as after the “ lost bride of Netherby,”
but with equally bad success. In the mean
time, the young lady, disguised in male
attire, took passage on board the steamboat
Cleopatra, and, arriving safely in Boston,
without adventure, was leceived in the
arms of ;*ithful female friend—a mai ried
lady, residing in Pleasant street. Intelli
gence was soon conveyed to her lover, and
in company with him and a fair companion,
the twice promised bride made an excur
sion in Brattlehorough, Vt. where the nup
tial knot was firmly tied. The parties re
turned to Boston on Tuesday evening, and
we had the pleasure of shaking hands with
them, and wishing them all manner of felici
ty-
Legal Decision.—r\l the last Clark Supe
rior Court a bill was filed (by a creditor of
a person who had paid usury) chargiugfraud,
and calling upon the person taking usury to
say what amount of usury was taken. The
defendant refused to answer, upon the
ground that a third person, although a cred
itor, had no right to enquire respecting a u
surious contract, after a judgment, where
the original party had not availed himself of
he plea of usury—the property having been
sold under a mortgage fi fa. We learn
that the plea of the defendant was sustained
by the Court.— Georgia Journal.
The choctaw Tribe of Indians —The Ar
kansas Telegraph furnishes, from the Choc
taw Almanac, statistics indicative of the pro
gress of this tribe towards civilization. —
They have a printing press, from which they
have issued, up to September, 1812, 33,000
impressions, oi more than three millions of
pages, consisting of hooks, pamphlets, &c.
They have also contributed 810,000 to the
building of a Central College, where they
intended to complete I lie education of Choc
taw youth, ami prepare teachers for the gen
eral instruction of youth.
Their country is divided into four dis
tricts. There are courts of law in each,
judges inferior and superior, with all the ne
cessary officers. Religions and lemperence
societies abound, and trade is carried on
with spirit. The population of the four dis
tricts which comprise theii territory is 17,G00.
There are many missionaries among them.
In one district there are eighteen, fourteen
of whom are Methodist Episcopal Church.
The Millerites. —As might naturally he
exoected, the excitement in relation to the
end of the world is growing strong as the
day is supposed to draw near, and the be
livers in it are growing more and more cra
zy every day. Many of them have long
since abandoned all labor, and are now dis
posing oftheir effects and living on the pro
ceeds, designing to close up every thing
in April. What is to become of them, and
their neglected families, after that, Heaven
only knows. The poor-houses will be sure
of a good haul, hut they cannot support
them all, and will not, while hearty, robust
men, are neglecting the duties which life
imposes upon them. Iflhey/wtc the world
was coming to an end as they believe, they
would by no means be justified in the gross
neglect of those whom tied has confided to
their care. Man has duties to perform here,
and to perfom them faithfully, as in the sight
of God, is an important part of the great
preparation.— N. 11. Telegraph.
Courage. —A revolutionary patriot used
to relate an anecdote of a man he knew
when a boy, who bad been a soldier in the
old French war. On one occasion, the
English, aided by colonial militia, of which
he was one, were besieging a French fort
somewhere in or near Canada. In front
was a space of the forest leveled by a tor
nado, and beneath the fallen trunks the be
siegers sought shelter from the sharp fire
from the fort—all save this one man. Like
another Ethan Allen, he stood upon the tree
elevated above the rest, returning the ene
my’s fire. His companion below hailed
him to know if he had any bullets to spare,
as lie was out; the reply was—“ Hang you,
come up here; you can catch a handful a
minute!”
The colored lad.es of Boston, it seems,
are decidedly opposed to the project of their
white sisters that intermarriage between
negroes and whites should be permitted.—
A petition signed by twenty of them, against
such permission, was recently presented in
the Legislature. The fair petitioners al
ledge that if the law bo thus changed, the
colored men will marry white women, and
leave the petitioners destitute of sympathy,
and despairing of matrimonial felicity; al
so, that colored men, even now, begin to
slight their wives, while the unmarried beaux
are making arrangements to obtain white
wives, to the great injury and discomfort of
colored damsels. Their representations are
certainly entitled to most respectful consi
deration. — North ern Pa per.
Theory of Marriage. —There was a mer
ry fellow who slippered at Plato's three
thousand years ago, and the conversation
turning upon love and the choice of wives,
he said—“ He had learned from a very an
cient tradition that men had been originally
created male and female, each individual
being provided with a duplicate set of limbs,
and performing locomotive functions with a
kind of rotary movement as a wheel, that
be became in consequence so insolent, that
Jupiter, indignant, split him in two, and
since that time, each half has wandered
about the world in quest of the other half;
if the two congenial halves meet they are a
loving couple, otbeiwise they ate subjected
to a miserable, scolding, peevish and uncon
genial matrimony. The search, he said,
was rendered difficult, for the reason that if
one man al ghted on a half that did not be
long to him, another necessarily did the
same, until the whole affair was thrown in
to irretrievable confusion.”
Cleanliness. —A white-yellow cravat or
shirt on a man, speaks at once the character
of his wife; and, be you assured, that she
will not take with your dress pains which
she lias never taken with her own. Then,
the manner of putting on the dress is no
had foundation for judging: if it be care
lessly, slovenly, if it do not fit properly. No
matter for its mean quality : mean as it may
he, it may he neatly and trimly put on ; and,
if it he not, take care of yourself, for, as
you will soon find to your cost, a sloven in
one thing is a sloven in all things. The
country people judge greatly from the state
of the covering of the ancles; and if that
be not clean and tight, they conclude that all
is not what ought to be. Look at the shoes.
If they be trodden on one side, loose on the
foot, or run down at the heel, it is a very
had sign ; and, as to slip-shop, thought at
coining down in the morning, and even be
fore daylight, make up your mind to a tope,
rather than live with a slip shop wife. Oh!
how much do women lose l>y inattention to
these matters ! Men, in general, say noth
ing about it to their wives; but they think
about it; they envy their luckier neighbors;
and, in numerous cases, consequences the
most serious arise from the apparently tri
fling cause. Beauty is valuable; it is one
of the ties, and a strong tie too ; that, how
ever, cannot last to an old age ; but the
charm of cleanliness never ends but with
life itself.— Cobbett.
A lover recently entered a house which
lie had been forbidden to visit, magnetised
both the old folks, and then rail off with the
daughter at his leisure.
An Irishman thus describes a wheelbar
row ; it is a little carriage with one wheel,
and the horse is a man.”
3 (t> nIPUIS 3i it SO H 8 {DIEHL lb R'7
A Diligent Ecclesiastic. —“ The Devil,”
says Bishop Latimer, “ is the most diligent
preacher and prelate in all England. He
is never out of his diocess—you shall nev
er find him unoccupied. In the mean timr*
the other bishops take their pleasure, arid
only attend to the farm to receive its tithes.
Devil is diligent at his plough.”
Advice, to young ladies by a Vermont ed
itor.—When you have got a man to the
sticking point—that is, when he proposes
don’t turn away your head or affect a blush,
or refer him to pa, or ask for more time ;
all these tricks are understood now ; but just
look him right in the face, give him a hearty
smack, and tell him to go and order the fur
niture.”
A young American officer, a graduate of
West Point, was recently imprisoned at Ha
vana for making a drawing of Moro Castle.
Upon the interference of Gen. Campbell,
our Consul, the young man was released.
The Governor General politely told Gcti.
Campbell, that if the American Government
desired a drawing of Moro Castle, he would
furnish one. “ Thank you,” said the Gen
eral, “ when the American Government
needs a sketch ofyoui Castle, we shall draic
it with our cannon I
© R 0 © 0 INI A L .
For the “Southern Miscellany.”
THE “RIGHT OF INSTRUCTION.”
Air. Editor —This “Right of Instruc
tion” is a false pretence. Under a Repub
lican form of Government whatever the
people really do will, they have the power
to carry into effect. (First of all, under
stand me to favor no political party in the
discussion of this subject.) When, there
fore, we are honored with what are styled
“ instructions from the people to their re
presentatives”—instructions from a source
whence we have a right to expect commands
—WC are certainly justified in the suspicion
that these do not emanate from the people,
hut more probably from bodies of men who,’
having neither right to command nor right
to instruct, hope to conceal the infirmity of
their title under the moderation of their de
mands.
Let us examine and see who they arc who
usually thus presume to instruct the peo
ple’s representatives, and whether they are
really “ the people,” or have any warrant
for it from the people ; and, first, let us un
derstand what is meant by “ the people”—
we mean the whole people, and nothing short
of the whole people, or the majority of
the whole acting simultaneously.
It is the government of the whole that
alone constitutes self-government—Demo
cracy. Now, this paramount democratic
sovereignty is never called directly into ac
tion, except in forming and settling a Con
stitution, t lie very object of which act is to de
fine in wliat mode the will of the people
shall ever after be authoritatively expressed.
That done, we have done also with original
or primary assemblies—that is, assemblies
wherein the people act in their original, ab
solute, and sovereign capacity. The peo
ple agree by adopting a Constitution that
they will no longer act in an irregular, dis
connected manner, in separateunorganized
assemblies, and by individual plans and wills,
hut to gelher only,and in the constituted mode.
Town and ward and mass meetings, there
fore, are l>y no means, in reality, what they
are ordinarily styled, “ meetings of the Peo
ple in their primary assemblies.” Very
respectable organs of public opinion, they,
no doubt, are, which are entitled to, and will
command the respectful deference of every
wise politician, but not organs of the sover
eign will, which every representative would
be bound to obey. If these indiscriminate
assemblages really are, what they are so
often called, the “ sovereign people in,their
primary capacity,” they are certainly omni
potent —they can make and unmake laws,
magistrates, Constitutions, and if they are
not, they are, as to political rights, to politi
cal powers, nothing. If they have not all
the rights of the original sovereign people,
they have no right at all to instruct.
This glorious right to instruct is claimed,
and most frequently exercised over Repre
sentatives in Congress. But wliat right
have State Legislatures to instruct? It is
their constitutional prerogative to elect one
branch of tho national Legislature. When,
however, this election has taken place, thut
function is discharged ; and they have |io
longer any duties in the piemises until an
other vacancy occurs. When elected, the
Representative is not their agent ; they ope
not. his principals or his constituents : he is; a
Representative of the People, and so are
they. The people have not authorized tli'tfn
to instruct this Representative, nor placed it
within the range of their duties, or their
powers; far from it— a power to recall him
was proposed in the Convention that framed
the Constitution of the United States, to be
given them, and the proposition was distinct
ly negatived. They have no more right to
instruct him than he to instruct them. I
have said they are not his constituents.—
The whole State does not comprise his con
stituents. He is a member of the Congress
of the United Slates, and sworn to discharge
his duty as such. The nation are his con
stituents. He is a Representative, not of
party, but of the whole; not of any party
in power, or out of power, but of the whole
people. If the paramount interest of the
nation at large clearly require the sacrifice
of the particular interest of his single State,
he is even conscientiously hound to vote for
that sacrifice. Because the State or State Leg
islature elected him, they are not, as tiecessa-/
ryconsequence, to control him. The State
names the Representative, but the State alone
could never hare given him power, which he
possesses to affect the wholc\Union ; the ori
gin of this power dates far back from the
State election, at the formation of the grand
national compact, and the nation at large
are alone entitled to be considered as bis
political creators.
It is a bad division of labor, as well as an
usurpation of power, for men who were
elected to attend to State affairs, to assume
the control of those of the nation. Differ
ent powers are required—a different grade
of intelligence—different means and oppor
tunities of informatiou and judgment. Is
it not enough that so much time is con
sumed by Congress in debating the grounds
nf the different national parties; but must
the same subjects he again debated and re
settled hv twenty-six individual State assem
blies, to the great obstruction, if not entire
neglect, of all domestic legislation —to say
not ling of the cost which would, in the ag
gregate, form no slight addition in national
expenditure ? No advocate for a strict con
struction of delegated powers can consistent
ly maintain that, when the people have sent
him to (he State Capitol to attend only to
those affairs that immediately concern the
State, be lias a right to usurp the functions
or sit i judgment on the conduct of another
agent cjf the people, despatched to a differ
ent plate on a distinct errand, and made con
stitutinpally accountable only to the com
mon mpster of both.
But jdo elections furnish an authoritative
letter #f instructions from the People to the
Representative, of which he is bound to take
notice; and is lie hound, by democratic
principles, when a successor of different
politics has been elected, to vote in con
formity with the opinion of his successor
elected, or to resign l Elections, it is true,
are authorities emanating fiom the sovereign
people, because they are exercised in pur
suance of the Constitution, established by
the whole, and are, therefore, authoritative
so far as they go.
But what does such a result to an election
signify ? The present incumbent may have
been elected on personal as well as political
considerations, and at the last canvass not
have been a candidate; therefore, it docs
not necessarily signify that his political mea
sures are so obnoxious as to prevent his be
ing, in spite of his political course, after all,
the preference of the people.
Perchance the people, his immediate con
stituents, wish for a change ; but a change
after his term shall l ave expired, and he
have had ari opportunity to bring his mea
sures, in some degree, to a test, by carrying
them out fairly to the close of that period ;
for this only he has any warrant that the
Voice of the people, so far as it is the sover
eign voice—the voice of Democracy, ex
pressed in the constitutional mode, signifies
in such an adverse election—what ? (the
election designates the man, the Constitu
tion for what object,) that after he shall have
fulfilled his term, carrying out his measures
to the end of it, then the officer elect shall
succeed, not now immediately ’supercede and
supplant him.
But were it otherwise, the electors of the
Representative are hut a part, and that but
a very small part, of his real constituents ;
and if the democratic principle hind him to
observe the will of the people, it is the will
of the whole people; if the will of “his
constituents,” the will of the whole of his
constituents—the nation at large; and thus,
if the right of instruction, by means of elec
tions, be effective at all, it can only take ef
fect, consistently with itself, after the entire
national majority shall have been settled—
when the result must be, l>y an instantaneous,
complete, and overwhelming revolution, to
expel utterly any such thing as opposition,
and suffer the headlong torrent of success
ful party to turn uninterruptedly away the
entire legislation of the country.
This brings us to the final view of this
discussion, tin t, ns we have seen, we can
get no authoritative instructions from the
real people to their Representatives, so nei
ther do the people choose to govern in this
way —by imparting to their Representatives
the momentary changes and impulses of
popular opinion.
The government, it is true, is merely the
agent of the people, and appointed to be the
mere servant of their will; but we must
distinguish the case pf the people from that
of an individual in the appointment of an
agent. The public voice is made up, not
of the expression of a single will, but of
that of a great multitude of individual wills,
on which our own can have hut little infin
'ence. We cannot but think it wise, theie
fore, to secure a degree of permanency in
the public administration ; and, however,
much of wisdom and rectitude we may he
conscious of in ourselves, and, however, lit
tle restraint we may feel disposed to put
upon our own individual wills for the future,
it is not extraordinary that we should feel a
greater confidence in putting ourselves in
all cases within the power of the majority
—a greater confidence in the public will—
when placed under certain wholesome quali
fications to secure deliberation and discus
sion, so as to make that will and that majori
ty the offspring of the permanent, settled
will of the nation, rather than hasty popular
passion.
We are a people peculiarly impatient in
awaiting the results of experiment, and
usually form more conclusive determina
tions, and take a more prompt and decided
action on the result of ten years, than other
people on tho experience of a century. —
Hence a hasty and imperfect legislation is
one of the worst characteristics of the work
ing of our system, until laws have become a
standing part of our news, and the columns
of a daily or weekly print are sometimes
more ruthoritativc than a two year’s old
statute book—issued “ by authority.”
People wish to he saved the trouble and
excitenent of such frequent elections as
this pretended “ Right of Instruction” must
give rise to —and the absurdity of the prac
tice cinnot he better illustrated than by the
fact, that there have often been two changes
of piblic opinion, counteracting one anoth
er, within so brief a space that a Repre
sentttive instructed out of office, through a
fancied deference to the voice of the peo
ple, lias often found his immediate constitu
ents again concurring with him before the
close of the term for which he was elected,
and the public will thus foolishly cheated
by his successor of its just expression.
This “ Right of Instruction,” so far from
being in conformity with the principles of
the Constitution,seems tobe directly against
them. The Constitution prescribes a defin
ite term of office; this “Right of Instruc
tion” would make it uncertain and indefinite.
If it had been intended by the people that
an ‘election should be taken as a test of the
sovereign will, not only to the extent it dis
tinctly imports, but to the extent of chang
ing all immediate representations of the
same electors, why did they not establish
the practice of voting for all officers at the
same lime, and at every election I Why
make any definite term of office at all 1
The supreme power, according to De
mocracy, resides in the whole. Blit we are
never unanimous, and to act at all, the ma
jority must govern, and this majority is only
an approximation to the real Democracy,
though it is the nearest possible approxima
tion, and with the actual Constitution of
mankind, we must necessarily take up with
an approximation. Pure Democracy—the
unanimous government of the whole—we
cannot have ; the minority should be re
garded ; they have some right in the ad
ministration of affairs, and as the majority
are only a necessary compromise, they
should have some qualifying influence on
the voice of the majority.
Having thus, Mr. Editor, given my views
upon this subject (without the leant sha
<low of a desire to advance the political
views ofany particular party of men,) I hope
you will lay it before your readers for their
approval or disapproval; and am, sir,
Very respectfully,
INCOG.
For the “Southern Miscellany.”
LETTER FROM MAJOR JONES.
NO. XVI.
Pinct i/le, Fcbuary 24, 1543.
To Mr. Thompson:
l)car Sir —l am too happy and no mis
take—the twenty-second of Febuary is
over, and the “ consurnation so devotedly
to be wished for” is tuck place. In other
words l’s a married man!! I aint in no
situation to tell you all how the thing tuck
place, not by no means, and if it wasn’t for
my promis, I dont blieve I could keep away
from my wife long enough to rite you a let
ter. Bless her little sole I didn’t think 1
loved her half so good as 1 do ; but to tell
you the rale truth, 1 do blieve I’ve ben al
most out o’ my senses ever sense nite afore
last. But I must lie short this time, while
the galls is plugin Mary in tother loom!
They are so bad.
1 had the licens got niore’n a week ago,
and old Mr. Eastman hrutig home my wed
din suit jest in time. Mother would make
me let cousin Pete wait on me, and Miss
Kesiah was brides maid. Mother and old
M iss Stallions had every thino- ranged in
fust rate style long afore the time ativ, and
nothing was wantin but your company to
make every thing complete.
Well, bout sun down cousin Pete cum
round to my room whar we rigged out for
the casioti, and I dont blieve I ever seed
him look so good, but if he’d jest tuck oft’
them bominable grate big sorrel whiskers of
his, he’d looked a monstrous site better. 1
put on my yaller britches and blue cloth
cote and white satin jacket, and my new
bever hat, and then we druv round to old
squire Rogerses and tuck him into the car
riage and away we went out to Miss Stal
lionses plantation. When we got thar ther
was a most everlastin getherin thar vvaiten
to see the ceremony afore they et ther sup
per. Every body looked glad and old Miss
Stallions was flyin about like she didn’t
know which end she stood on.
“ Come in, Joseph,” scs she, “the galls is
in the tother room.”
But I couldn’t begin to git in tother room
for the fellers all pullin and hallin and sha
kin the life out o’ me to tell me how glad
they was.
“ Howdy, Major, howdy,” ses old Mr. Bi
ers, “ I give you joy,” ses be—“ yer gwine
to many the flower o’ the county as 1 always
sed. She’s a monstrous nice gall, Major.”
“That’s a fact,” ses old Mr. Skinner,
“ that’s a fact, and I hope you’ll be a good
husband to her Joseph, and that you’ll have
good luck with yout
“ Thank ye, thank ye, gentlemen—come
along cousin Pete,” scs I, as quick as 1
could git away from ’em.
The do: e to tother room was opened and
in we went. 1 never was so struck all up
in a heap afore—thar sot Mary with three
or four more galls, butiful as a angel and
hlushin like a rose. When she seed me she
kind o’ looked down and sort o’ smiled, and
sed “ good evenin.” 1 couldn’t say a word
for my life for more’ll a minit. Thar she
sot,the dear gall of my bait—and 1 couldn’t
help but think to myself w hat a infernal cus
a man must be that could marry her and
then make her unhappy by treatin her mean,
and I determined in my sole, to stand ntween
her and the storms of the world, and to love
her, and take care of her, and make her hap
py, as long I lived. If you could jest seen
her as she was dressed then, and you was
n’t a married man, you couldn’t help but
envy my luck, after all the trubble I’ve had
to git her. She was dressed jest to mv li
kin, in a fine white muslin frock, with short
sleeves and white satin slippers, with her
hair all hangin over her snow-white neck
and shoulders in butiful curls, without a sin
gle brcstpin or any kind of juelry or orna
ment, copt a little white satin bow on the
side of her hed. Bimeby Miss Carline cum
in the room.
“ Cum, sis, they’s all reddy,” ses she and
ther was grate big tears in her eyes, and she
went and give Mary a kiss rite in her mouth,
and hugged her a time or two.
We all got up to go. Mary trembled
monstrous, and 1 felt sort o’ fainty, but I
didn’t feel nothin like ctyin.
When we got in the room whar the cum
pany was, old Squire Rogers stopt us rife
in the middle of the flore and axed us for
the licens. Cousin Pete handed ’em to
him and he red ’em out loud to the people
who was all as still as detli. After talkin a lit
tle ho went on—
“ If enny body’s got ennything to say
why this cupple shouldn’t be united in the
holy bands of wedlock,” ses he, “ let ’em
now speak or always afterwards hold ther
peace
“ Oh, my lord ! oh my darlin daughter !
oh dear laws a massy!” ses old Miss Stal
lions as loud as she could squall and begin
a clappin her hands and cryin and shoutin
like she was at a camp-meetin.
Thunder and lightniu ! thinks I, here’s
another yeath quake, but 1 held on to Maty,
and was termiued that nothin short of a real
bust up of a.ll creation should git her from
me.
“Go ahed, Squire,” ses cousin Pete. It
aint nothin.”
Mary blushed dredful, and seemed like
she would drap on the flore.
Miss Carline cum and whispered some
thing to her, and mother and two or three
more old wimmin got old Miss Stallions to
go in tother room.
The squire went through the rest of the
bisness in a hurry, and me and Mary was
made flesh of one bone and bone of one flesh
before the old woman got over her high
stericks. When she got better she cum to
me and hugged me and kissed me as hard
as she could rite afore ’em all, while all the
old codgers in the room was salutin the
bride as they called it. 1 didn’t like that
part of the ceremony stall, and wanted to
change with ’em monstrous bad ; but I reck
in I’ve made up for it sense.
After the marryin was over we all tuck
supper, and the way old Miss Stallions ta
ble was kivered over with good things was
uncommon. After playin and frolickin til
bon ten o’clock the brides cake was cut, and
sich a cake was never baked in Georgia a
fore. The Stallionses bein Washingtoni
ans, ther wasn’t no wine, but the cake want
bad to take jest dry so. Bout twelve o’clock
the cumpauy begin to cut out home, all of
’em jest as sober as when they cum.
I had to shake hands agin with ’em all
and tell ’em all good nite.
“ Good nite, cousin Mary,” ses Pete
“ good nite Majer,” ses he, “ I sposc ’you
aint gwine back to town to-nite,” and then
be bust rite out in a big laugh, and away ho
went.
That’s jest the way with Pete, he’s good
feller enough but he haint got no better
sense.
Mary ses she’s sorry she couldn’t send
you no mote cake, but Mr. Mountgomery’s
saddlebags wouldn’t hold half she rapped
up for you. Dont forgit to put our marri
age in the Miscellany. No more ftom
Your fiend til deth,
JOS. JONES.
P. S.—ln my next letter I wilt tell you
how we all git on. I’m termined to keep
up a reglar correspondence with the Mis
cellany, and after 1 git settled I’ll have more
time and I’ll try to rite you something bet
ter’ll I have yet. Not jest letters, but some
thing else too.
For ihe “ Southern Miscellany.”
GEORGIA HISTORICAL SOCIETY.
Savannah, 12th February, 1843.
Why on this auspicious day, amid the
glad sounds of music and the thrilling tones
of the drum, are seen bright eyes and faces
glowing with fond anticipations of enjoy
ment 1 Why seems the “ genial sunlight.”
of heaven rife with nature’s loveliness, and
an active and commercial people found run
ning together as one man to learn more of
the early history of the Emporium of Geor
gia 1 In that crowded assembly are to be
found the great, the learned, the talented
and the beautiful—in commemoration of the
fourth anniversary of the “ Georgia Histor
ical Society.”
‘I his anniversary has again dawned upon
the glad citizens of “Oglethorpe’s ancient
city,” to perpetrate the deeds and memory
of our illustrious Fathers, to hand down, un
tarnished to posteiity, the true history of
their native State.
This Society was formed in June, 1830.
Its library has increased to a tenfold mag
nitude; with an unlimited correspondence,
her resources have been extensive.
‘1 he first anniversary address before the
Society was delivered by Judge Law, the
second by Doctor Stevens—third omitted—
ihelouitl, by Hon.MitchellKing.ofChatles
ion.
Judge King has something of a venera
ble appearance ; his l ead is quite hall; a
gentleman of some Historical information—
courteous expression to his audience. His
powers of oratory are nothing extraordina
ry ; it is due to him, however, to any
that his composition and good taste are
praiseworthy—delivered with judgment and
in manly style. He discoursed upon the
offices of tlie Historian—his “ latitude” —
“lie must be of undoubted taste,” and “de
voted”—be “ must be impartial and just.”
“To fear God,” said Judge King, “and
l)ioiv no other fear are characteristics of a
free country.” The Historian “must be
tiee from all undue prejudices—not blind to
faults, nor too ready to accuse.” “ Histo
ry,” said he, “ is a strictly abstract science,
and no one is willing to think or find him
self wrong.”
’I he discourse occupied about one hour,
with frequent interruptions of applause.
The old Theatie was crowded to overflow
ing. The Ladies on those public occasions
“ turn out to a man,” both small and great.
“ One hundred and ten years have passed
since Tomocltichi welcomed the English
soldier, and the pilgrims who composed his
hand to our shoies, and we have trodden
out the footsteps of the red man whose tribes
have retired before the impress of civiliza
tion.”
Since the glorious epoch, when the be
nevolence of Oglethorpe triumped over the
uncurbed passions of the savage, when “ the
red cross of England floated unharmed on
the waters of the Savannah,” and the Indian
canoe danced o’er its placid bosom, that lit
tle band of Pilgrims has swelled to about
700,000 inhabitants, who constitute one of
a mighty confederacy of States.
One of the drums used on this occasion,
by the Savannah Volunteer Guards, was the
same which sounded the thrilling call “ to
arms at the Battle of the Eutaw, Saratoga
and the Cowpens”—a present to the Socie
ty, in 1841, by Gen. Floyd. “Thechairon
which the Speaker was seated” was the seat
of one of the Signers of the Declaration in
the Hall of Representativvs—also a. present
to the Society.
On the same evening, the following offi
cers were elected for one year :
Hon. Jamks M. Wayne, President.
M. Ham, McAllister, Esq., Ist V. P.
Hon. William Law, 2d. V. P.
I. K. Tefft, Esq. Corresponding Sec’y.
H. K. Preston, Esq. Recording Sec’y-
Solomon Coiien, Esq. Treasurer.
A. A. Smets, Librarian.
Curators. —W. T. Williams, Charles J.
Henry, John C. Nicoll, Robert M. Charlton,
R. D. Arnold, W. B. Stevens, Rt. Rev. Ste
phen Elliot, Jr.
This Society, grasping as it does the in
terest and the common welfare of all, is cer
tainly destined to a maturity unsurpassed by
any. J. ’