Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
s})2 :]p.D.j.!'’=3 S.yurj.'.yjfi
For the Georgia Citizen.
Niserfrum.
(A Elegy on hearing of the death of my Sister.)
BV T. H. CIIIVERS, it. D.
Like the pious pathetical Rachel in Ramah,
Who mourned for her beautiful band 1
Oh! pour out your souls to the merciful Tamer
Os the Lions in the Lion Land !
A* she would not be comforted, crying forever,
In life, after death, for the loved, early lost!
Oh! weep for your mother! but smile never, never—
For what have your souls, sinct her death, now to
boast T
Then weep, orphan children ! weep! weep !
Oh! weep out your hearts for the los of your mother!
Pour, pour out your souls in one pitiful rain!
For ye never can know, in this wide world, another
So true to your hearts as that mother has been !
Wail aloud. Oh ! ye orphans ! like Zion’s sweet daugh
ter*,
When they pound out their hearts in such heart
melting tears.
By tho willows that wept over Babylon’s waters,
That their grief took for pay all ett rnity’s years !
Then weep, orphan children! weep! weep!^,.
Like tho pitiful wail of that Beutiful Lion
Os Judah, in the forests of Lebanon, lone,
When he mourned for the loss of the daughter of
Zion,
Who killed ai! the Prophets of God, one by one 5
Let your dark ebon locks, like the limbs of the willow.
Rain down from your brows on her dark narrow bed
la one stream of despair, as yt kneel by the pillow
Os earth, tear-baptized, newly heaped on the dead !
Then weep, orphan children ! weep ! weep !
Weep, weep for your mother! Weep ! weep!
New Ifaren, Conn , Af ty 20, 1851.
J.U
E.HJII HARRIS.
* TALK FOUNDED ON FACTS WHICH HAVE OCCURRED
IN GEORGIA.
Written for the Georgia Citizen, by a Lady of Macon.
[concluded, j
During the month tiiat Saudford was absent, E.n.na
was more siient than usual; he was the principal sub
ject of her thoughts, and yet she never dreamed that
Cupid was last binding her. with the silken cords of
lore. ’Tis true Sand ford had never told Emma that
lie loved her, yet there was a something in his manner,
or perhaps in the tone of his voice, that faintly whis
pered a pleasing story into the willing ear of our youth
ful heroine. Woman’s eye is quick in detecting the
true feelings of a man towards lor; he may some
times deceive her by pretending to love, but ’tis seldom,
very seldom a man can associate long with u woman
he loves, and keep her ignorant of the nature of his
feelings. --re arc times when a word, even a look
tells \ h, would feign keep within his own bo
som. ‘Qt landlord had been so little in Emma’s
compa yet (previous to their last meeting) he had
in some way given her a right to suspect a continua
tion of his visits, and this was why she felt disappoint
ed. perhaps a little piqued, when s!& thought that
Band ford had called to see her cousin, without express
ing a wish to see her. No one suspected the cause of
Emma’s unusual silence, during his absence, except her
Bunt. She had probably travelled the same road, and
could divine the feelings of Emma better than one less
observant might imagine. She was much troubled in
mind about keeping Emma, and disposing of Rosa.
Mr. Weston was as usual, a mere cipher in the family,
aside from furnishing the means, on which they were
enabled to make a genteel appearance. Rethought
more of Edward than anyone else, and did not suffer
much anxiety concerning him, as his circulars brought
regular, and good reports of him from the College
where he had been placed.
The month expired, and Sandford was again in
town; he saw R -sa out the day after Ins return, and
took advantage of her absence, and cahed at Mr. Wes
ton's. As usual, he enquired for both the ladies, and
was told by the servant (what It • already knew.) that
Rosa was out. ‘Then said he,‘tell Miss Harris, that
Mr. band ford wishes to see her.’ Emma was silting
with her aunt, when the servant came and said that
‘Mr. Sandford was in the parlor.’ ‘Did you tell him
that Miss Rosa was out?’ said Mrs. Weston. ‘Fib
nwrm.den he said tell Miss Harris I want to see her,’
was the servant's reply. By this time Emma was rea
dy and went into the parlor, without waiting lor objec
tions to be raised. Mrs. Weston was nonplussed this
time for a while; but her proliticimagination suggest
the idea of going into the parlor, for the purpose of
welcoming Mr. Sandford back again after so long an
absence from his friends. This movement would pre
vent Sandford from being with Emma, alone, and that
was her object. She walked into the parlor (quite to
the surprise of the occupants) and in one of her bland
**>t tones,expressed great pleasure in seeing Mr Sand
ed at home again, and regretted very much that Rosa
was out! I| e tried to appear pleased with her eon versa
tion, but could not bide his disappointment from such a
tioseobserver as Mrs. Weston. His call was not so long
a *'t might have been, under other circumstances, but he
kit happy to see Emma at all, and left in line spirits, af
promising Mrs. Weston to call often, and be soei.i
ilv. This promise he fulfilled, for he called very often
Mr. \\ eston's during the next two months, bat sel
dom saw Emma alone! About this time a cousin of
Mrs. Weston came to make them a visit, lie was a
young man of fine appearance and agreeable manners
He had never seen Emma before, but seemed quite
phased with her. so much so, that Mrs. Weston thought
•he had another foe to contend with. She determined
however, to satisfy herself on this subject, and in ac
®°rdance with this determination, see remarked to
Overton, ofie evening after Sandford had gone, that ‘she
bolieved he and Sandford were rivals.’ ‘O no’ said
Overton, ‘but if mv heart were not anothvrs’ we might.’
All, then you have disposed of your heart already, have
Jou ’ said she. quite relieved by this communication
fes,’ sa<d he, T j,ni pledged to one equally as lovely as
Eainia, although [ am very much prepossessed in Em
tia s favor. I do not wish her consider my attentions in
* n - °lher light than those of a friend. SandfordV
T| >t* became regular, and he managtd to see Emma
*iotie pretty often, by priqsising to walk or ride with her
Mr*. \\ estun judged by his increased attentions to
Emina that they would be engaged very soon, with<*u>
‘ o£ne interruption, and in consideration of thi6, she de
rained in accept her cousin's invitation, and return
• wjth jjj m r VVeston was consulted and ol
C< " IFB< ‘ agreed to hia wife’s proposition, to spend the
--‘ inner jn the country, among her numerous relations.
6 “a* to come in a few weeks and take Rosa to the
1 n gs, while Emma was to remain with her annt.
’ ’.as delighted with the idea of spending some
b ” ’ n ** le country. Emma made no objection to it,
hi r aunt saw that she was not pleased, and enquir
e reason. ‘I have no particular objection to go
-81 raid Emma, ‘but I would rather remain in town
fe . ‘ lric^e - Emma’ 6i<] Mrs. Weston, ‘I know the
that y° wish to remain in town, it is on Sand
-Tt* a f Ccunot -’ ‘ Emma bluslwd, being conscious of the
her aunts assertion, but remained silent,while
-n.inued ‘lt is on Snndford’x account, that T wish
to take you with me. I have reason to believe that he
is triffling with you, and think it best that you should
be separated. lie has been visiting you several months,
and y >u say that he has never proposed marriage
1 his he should have done, long ago, or not have paid
you such marked attention.’
Emma was confounded with what she heard, yet
she did not believe it i she thought Sandford told th
true feelings of his heart when he said ‘Emma 1 love
you.’ The circumstances which led to this confession
a few days before, arrayed themselves before Emma’s
mind's eye, and brought proof of Sandford's affection,
too strong for Mrs. \\ eat on with all her sophistrv. to
overthrow. The tears started in the poor girl’s eyes. a>
she replied, ‘I cannot believe that Charles Sandford
would be so crtlel, as to trifle with me, as you say H<
must be sincere.’ .Mm. Weston was surprised t-- hear
Ermna speak so confidently, and in a kind tone said
well child if he is sincere as you believe him to be, your
leaving town will not prevent his carrying out his in
tentioiis, if they be honorable. If he cannot visit you
he can write to you, and 1 do Hot believe that he will
•vriteas much as he would say, if he din s no intend
to marry you. but Ins letters might be brought up in
judgment againsi him ’ ‘Very well’ said Emma, T
will go, I am willing that he should be tested.’
.Mrs. Weston was pretty sure that she could manage
things to suit herself if s’ e could only get Emma
where Sandford could not see her. They were to be
ready to go in a few days, but Mrs. Weston would not
name the day, for her own reasons. She had much
shopping to do. as everything they would need, during
the summer, must be purchased before she left, and
she and Rosa lied many calls to make, which would re
quire several days. The first thing purchased was a
travelling dress for Rosa, so that Emma could have it
made it. time. ‘Your dark gingham will do for you
to travel in, Emma,’said h<r Aunt. Rosa will .want a
unveiling dress during the summer, and 1 will have
her a good one made, at once. I shall not have on.
•unde for myself at present.’ Two days after they had
eoiiehtd and to go, Sandford heard it and called that
* v.-uing to see Emma. Rosa and some of her ac
quaintances were in the parlo , w n lie came. Thi.
tinn-she Imard him ash flu- servant for h< r. and went
immediately into the parlor. Sandford could searoeli
-ct an opportunity to speak to Emma, without being
over heard, by someone of the company. He deter
mined to offer her his hand before she left town; ami
he believed it Would be accepted ; although she had
never told him that his love was reciprocated. He
managed to make an engagement to ride with Emma,
the next afternoon. ‘Be ready,’ said he, ’at half past
four,’ just loud enough for Rosa to hear him, who com
municated the same to her mother. Emma told her
milt also, of the engagement. T am sorry,’ said she.
’that you promised to go with him, for I need your as
sistance very much, just now. He ought to have made
his arrangements long ago, and take my advice Emma,
do not engage yourself to him before you leave town.
If he proposes, tell him you cannot decide before you
go; make him write and n>k for an answer. Ido not
believe he will commit himself in writing. Emma
promised to do as her desired her. Sandford called at
the hour named, and did propose that aftermsin, and
urged Emma to give him an answer before she left town.
•She however begged ‘for time to reflect seriously upon
the matter.’ Sandford felt disappointed, but agreed to
wait three weeks. ‘Now Emma do not keep me wait
ing lo gs” -i that time. I will write to you, so that
you can xer my litter by the time three weeks havi
expired.’ ‘I will be punctual.’ said site. By this time
they had returned home, and as Sandford shook hand
with her, lie said, ‘I will see yml again before you leave.
It is court week and l shall be very much engaged dur
ing the day, but I will try to take another ride with you,
lx-fore you go, as it is the only way I can see you alone.
1 will wri’e you a note, and let you know, when to ex
pect me.’ ‘Very well.’ said Emma, at the same time
she thought of her Aunt’s hint about work ; but like
other girls, she was willing to take several hints for tile
sake of a ride with a favorite beau.
Both Sandford and Emma felt melancholy. lie tried
to be happy, believing that he wuuM be successful, but
there seemed to be a dark cloud loweriug in the future.
Mrs. Weston's suggestions of his insincerity, caused
Emma’s spirits to be sorely depressed. The possibility
that Sandford might deceive her, made her miserable at
times. She told her aunt of his proposition and of her
promise to give him an answer, in three weeks. Mrs
W cston expressed surprise when she heard that he hud
proposed, and from this Emma derived some consola
tion, for thought she, as aunt has been deceived so far.
she may be deceived altogether. Rosa had company
every evening. Many friends came to bid her fart well,
and express kind wishes for her happiness during her
long absence. From some of these friends Sandford
learned, that the Westons were to leave town the first
of the next week. It was Saturday before he had an
opportunity to take the desired ride. He sent a note
to E nina about tvo o'clock on Saturday afternoon
Mrs. Weston was sitting at one of tbe front windows,
when Satidford’s servant came to the gate with the note.
Site walked out in the yard, as if to look at some flow
er that had just bloomed. The note was handed to her:
as it was not st aled, she opened it (pretending not to no
tieo to whom ii *>as directed) and read the following.
’Miss Harris will affbid much pleasure, by being rea
lly tit half past four to take a ride, with her devote.l
friend, C. Sandford.’ ‘O.’ said she, ‘this is for Miss
Harris. ‘Yon need not wait for an answer.’ This
was said in a manner that would convey the idea, that
she had just found out for whom the note was intend
ed. She instantly deter .lined that Emma should not
go to ride that altcrnoo t. She had two objections to
it. Ihe first was that Sandford might persuade Enina
to give her consent to marry him. and thought she, it
is easier to prevent an engagement, than to break oih-
Hie second reason was that there was some work that
she wanted finished before she left town. No one else
noticed the coming of Sandford’s servant, and Mrs.
Westons though s were now busy in devising some
pla i to prevent Ein na from knowing that the note had
been sent. She dared not write in Emma's name and
refuse to go, lest it should be found out. She finally
concluded to let the work go undone, and went to
Overton, and asked him ‘if lie would like to take Em
ma to ride that afternoon. Rosa and I will be absent,
and it will he pleasanter for you to take a ride than to
remain at home alone,’ said she; T will do so with plea
sure’ said he. ‘Very well go and speak for a horse and
buggy and I will go and tell Emma, to be ready at
tour o’clock.’ When Mrs. Weston proposed the ride to
Emma, the latter said she sh< could not go, as her work
was not finish.-d. ‘Never mini the work’said her aunt,
‘he will feel disappointed if you do not go. I have told
him that yon could go, and in has gone to get a horse
and buggy and will expect you to be ready by four
o’clock.’ Emma thought of Sandford, and feared ilia:
be would call while she was absent. Mrs. YVeston and
Rosa went out Ht four and left the servant to tell Sand
ford any thing he pleased. Emma waited until a quar
ter past four, and as Overton was waiting, she put on
her bonnet thinking thtft if Sandford had intended
calling for her thataf ernoon, he would have sept her a
note. A few minutes after Overton and Emma left,
Sandford came and enquired for Emma. ‘She has just
gone to ride with Mr. Overton’ said the boy. Sand
ford (as may be imagined; was astonished and disap
pointed too, when he heard the servant’s answer, and
drove off without replying to what he heard. He first
censured Emma, but remembering that Mrs. YVeston
received the note he felt relieved, thinking that she had
probably neglected giving it to Emms. He was glad to
“Unkpnitrat in all tljings —Heutral in untying”
MACON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 4, 1851.
think it might be, another’s fault, aud not Emma’s that
lie was disappointed.
Mrs. Weston was uneasy all the afternoon, lest the
deep game she had attempted to play, might be deteet
<d, before she had accomplished her designs. She
hoped that Satidford would not come, as he received no
answer to his note. She felt alarmed at what she
had done, when she returned, and heard that lie had
called. She told the servant not to let any one know
that Sandtord hail been there. He may come tonight
thought she, and then all will be explained by Emma,
but I will risk it, and if he does come, 1 will pretend L.
have forgotten all about it. Every thiug seemed to fa
vor Mrs. \Y estun’s cruel plans. There came up a dread
ful storm about tea time, which lasted for hours, and
prevented Sandford from seeing Emma, as he intended
to have done.
Mr. Weston was compelled to remain at home, and
employed himself iu writing letters. ‘This is the tenth
of the month is it not Rosa V said he as be commenced
a letter, ‘I believe it is.’ answered Rosa. ‘The tenth’ said
Overton, ‘why I promised mother to be at home on the
15th to a party she is to give me then. It will be my twen
ty-fifth birb-day and she will be disappointed, if we do
not get there in time. Can you not get ready to go
Monday morning. Mrs. VVeston reflected a moment
and said that she would go then if the girls could get
ready. ’I have nothing to do except to pack up’ said
Rosa. ‘You can be ready cousin Emma.can you not,’
said Overton, ’yes’said Emma, ‘I can pack my clothes
to night.’ ’What do you think of our going Monday
Mr. Weston ?’ said his wife. ‘As well then as any
time’ said he, ‘if you stay a week longer you will have
something to do then.’ It rained nearly all the next
day. Neither of the ladies went to church. None of
their riends knew that they would leave so soon. Rosa
wrote notes to two or three on whom she intended to
have called, before leaving. Eituna also wrote to Mrs.
Smith and Mrs. Brown, briefly explaining why she
would leave without calling on them. Mrs. Smith had
already promised to correspond with Emma.
VV hen Sandford heard that Emma had gone, he was
is much atonislu-d, as disappointed. He had been
melancholy from the time of the misunderstanding
about the ride. The thought that Emma was to blame
would sometimes force itself upon him. and he began to
believe her gnil'y, when Mrs. Brown told him that
Mrs Weston had intimated to her, that Emma and
Overton were engaired. lie consoled himself however,
with tile thought that all would, soon beexp’ained, for he
intended writing to Emma as he promised. Overton and
his relations arrived at his Mother’s in time for the party.
I’lie day after Overton set out to see his intended. lie
expected to be absent one month, as lie had business
to attend toon the way. Mrs. Weston was glad to get
rid of him, as his presence might prevent the execu
tion of her plans. A few days after the party, Mrs.
Weston said to her aunt, ‘1 wish you would have all
the letters taken from the Post Office for my family,
brought tome, privately. My reasons for making this
request, I will give to you in confidence. Emma lias
been receiving the attentions of a young man for sever
al months, and 1 cannot prevail on her to discard him.
They are not engaged, nor shall they be, if I can pre
vent it, as it is by no means a desirable match. It lias
already caused her much Unhappiness. My plan is,’
Copt in tied she, ‘lo return Ids letters unopened, without
letfing her know that he has written. Ido not think
he will visit her. and bv being separated, an.] not hear
ing fr in him. I hope she wit) soon cease to care any
thing about him.’ Mrs. Overton agreed that it should
be done a. her niece desired, for the good old woman
said that it would ho a shame, for such an amiable girl
as Emma to get a worthless fellow for a husband.
Emma was unconscious of the plans laid for the de
struction of her happiness. She was sad ’tis true, yet
she fondly indulged in the hope, that ere long she would
prove to her aunt, that Sandford was as true as she
believed him to be. Poor girl, she little dreamed of
the trials that awaited her. Sandford wrote, at theap
pointed time, and Mrs. Weston received the letter. She
was anxious to know what he had said about the mis
sing note. Yet she dared not break the seal. It was
no honorable feeling that kept her from doing this.
Xu feeling nobler, than the fear of detection prevented
her. She thought that she would keep the letter as it
was, awhile,and if perc-hanee, it should be found out that
she had received it, she could make an excuse of some
sort, for not giving it to Emma, but she well knew that it
would be hard for her to make a plausible one for break
ing the seal. Day by day Emma grew more melan
choly and at the t-nd of one month she was miserable.
She felt deeply mortified to think that her aunt’s pro
phecy, had come to pass. .She would often ask her
self the question,‘what did she see to arouse her suspi
cions?’ As time passed on. and no letter came to her,
her grief became almost unbounded, and in her an
euish she prayed that the whole affair, might be blotted
from her memory. But forgetfulness was a boon
that heaven denied her. Mrs Weston saw her grief,
but that would soon pass away, and determined to rea
son vviih her on the subject, and for this purpose asked
Emma to walk with her otic evening. Emma antici
pated what was coming, and would have given worlds,
had she the secret within her own breast. They had
not proceeded far, before Mrs. Weston introduced the
subject. ‘Emma,’ said she, (in her kindest tone) ‘l see
that you arc unhappy, I know the cause, and deeply
■ln l sympathize with you. vet 1 think it is wrong for you
to brood over your disappointment in this way. you will
injure your health by such a course. And believe me,
when there is one of our sex who does not mourn over
unrequited love, there are ten who do.’ Emma could
not control herself. She burst into tears, as she said,
‘aunt, how could he be so cruel as to treat me, in this
way , without any provocation. I cannot yet believe, that
lie has deserted me, for what pleasure can it afford him
to crush the very hop ts of happiness, which he alone
created, and leave me to endure a living death. O!
had we never met, 1 might have been comparatively hap
py. but now, I am miserable and how miserable you can
not imagine.’ ‘Emma,’ said her aunt, ‘compose yourself;’
I cannot,’ said Emma, ’I have lost control of my reason
ingpowrs, Ido not care what becomes of me. If lam
convinced that Charles Sandford is false to me. I pray at
the same moment that reason may take take her ever
lasting flight. 1 would rather be incapable of reflec
tion than endure suclt agony.’ lam astonished at
your weakness,’ said her aunt, ‘bring your reason to
your side, and do not be so foolish as to waste the best
i-nergies of a mind like yours, by grieving fora man
that cares nothing for you. You will not always be as
unhappy as you are now. Time will heal this wound,
if you will but listen to the voice of reason.’
Al> this advice was lost upon Emma. Like many
others, under similar circumstances, she had arrived at
that point, u hen she had not courage, to make an effort
to b- happy. Many, with Mrs. YVeston, may think,
that Emma showed great weakness. Perhaps she did.
but had she been surrounded by kind and sympathiz
ing friends, it might have been different with her.
her mother’s death, she had, as it were, lived
within herself. Sandford was the first, and only con
genial spirit she had ever met. It was his heart alone
that had beat responsive to hers. He called forth feel
ings that must be reciprocated, or rage in wild commo
tion, until insanity should vie with reason for her
throne.
But we turn to Sandford whose manly heart was
sorely bruised by the stroke which (he thought,) had
come from the hand that was to administer through
life, a ‘sovereign balm for all his wounds.’ Weeks af
ter he had written his second letter, he sat in his room
anxiously waiting the return of the boy from the Post
Office He wae thinking of Emma, and rowed in his
heart,if she had deceived him, he would never again
believe that constancy dwelt in woman’a breast. He be
lieved tbat she had loved him, aud that Overton had
supplanted him. It was this evening that he received
his two letters unopened. As he gazed upon them,
he said aloud, T will now strive to forget her, she is un
worthy of such affections, as I have lavished upon
Iter.’ Noble resolution. It was easier made than kept.
Mrs. Smith had written to Emma, and Mrs. Weston
had destroyed the letter. It was now August, and
Mr, Weston had taken Rosa to the Springs. Overton
concluded lie would go for a few days and proposed to
take Emma with him. ‘Mother can take care of you
for one week,’ said he to Mrs. Weston. ‘I think it
will do Ernma good to go into company a little. Site
has been confined too long already, to the society of
two grave mothers.’
Mrs. Weston had been ant Dus about Emma's health
for weeks, and thought, will that a change
would do her flood. She had just received a letter
fro.n one of her friends, who in giving her the news
had mentioned that Sandford had gone to the North.
Mrs. Y\ eston thought of this piece of information and
concluded to let Emma go. When Eimna arrived
at the springs site was delighted to meet her old friend
Mrs Smith. *1 am glad you have arrived just now’
sail she,‘for your old admirer Charles Sandford will
be ht-re to-morrow. He has been to see his mother,
and is now on his way to the North. He promised,
however, to stop a day or two with us. His health is
bad. and by the by I think you have changed very
much. Have you been sick?’ ‘I have not been very
well,’said Emma in a tremulous tone. ‘Whv did you
not answer my letter, I wrote a long one to you a short
time after you left town, notwithstanding you should
have written first, according to the rules of etiquette.’
‘I have never received a letter from you,’ said Emma,
‘and I was very busy the first month after I left, and
then I supposed you had left town for the summer ’ ‘O !
no,’said Mrs. Smith, ‘I have only been here a week.
I disliked to leave before Sandford did, for we were the
only family lie has visited since you left. He has been
so melaucho’y, that I pitied him, and Emma, 1 believe
your absence has caused it. Emma blushed deeply
while she replied, ‘you must le mistaken, Sandford’s
happiness cannot be affected by me in any way.’ ‘I
think differently, Emma.’ ‘1 have heard him compliment
you very highly’and although, he never told me that lie
loved you, I have Hhvays believed he did, from the first
time he saw you.’ ‘You were mistaken he could nev
er have loved nit or— ’ The sentence was left unfinished
Emma said she was not well and must go to her room.
Mrs. Smith was not so much astonish ed at Emma’s
manner, as she might have been, had she been ignor
ant of Mrs. Weston’s character. Sandford had told
her of his having called twice aud asked for Emma
without her making het appearance, and also of his ;’is
appointment wlu n Iu- had last called to take her to ride.
Mrs. Smith supccted Mrs. Weston of interference, but
did not tell Sandford so. She determined to ask Em
ma about i; tlie first lime they mot. Sandford had
never told Mrs. Smith that he addressed Emma, but
she suspected that he had. In a few hours she went
to Emma’s room and solicited her confidence. Believ
ing her to be a friend, Emma told her all. ‘I would
risk my lifeon it, that Saudtiirdiwrottj-fo you as he pro
mised. 1 liavfe known liinf v tV<>_rr . jmd am sure
thnt he is not capable of sneh a Give me your
consent, and 1 will prove to yoi}3C'jt-|b is the tnan of
honor that I have represented 1 can find
out the truth without betraying you.’ Eimna consent
ed, to allow Mrs. Smith to do as she thought best.
Sandford came the next day and Mrs. Smith’s first
communication to him was, that Emma was there.
‘Ah !’ said he affecting indifference, ‘ how is she, I
thought that she and Overton would have been mar
ried long ago.’ ‘That was a false report,’ said .she, ‘for
Overton is to be married in October, to a young lady to
whom lie has been engaged for several mouths. Would
you not like to see Emma ?’ ‘I do not know,’ said lie,
‘that either would be happier after the meeting. Prob
ably it is best. that, we should not renew our acquaint
ance. We may never meet again, for I have deter
mined to make the North my home for the future, if
lam as well pleased with it, as I expect to be.’ ‘There
is, said she ‘some misunderstanding between you and
Emma, and I wislt it settled before you go.’ ‘You are
mistaken. Miss Harris, and I understand each other
perfectly well.’ ‘ Then Mr. Sandford,’said Mrs. Smith,
‘I liavo been most egregiously deceived in your charac
ter as a gentleman.’ ‘Explain yourself,’ said he, in
astonishment. ‘! am not at liberty to do so, go to Em
ma and ask ift-vir she received a letter from you. and all
will be expl fined. She lias just gone into 1 lie parlor, g >
and no one will disturb you, for all the ladies have gone
to dress for dinner, and it is tim’* 1 for me to go also.’
Sandford was left alone, but aft’ eflecting a few min
utes, he went into see Emma. ho meeting was em
barrassing to both, but. : ta o. 1 Mo> Sandford saw how
changed Eomta was. he“ ~ her all, and was not
long, on introducing the subjec. Nearest his heart. All
could not be explained, but they were satisfied, that
each loved the other. They were now engaged, and
Sandford insisted upon being married immediately.
Emma yielded to his persuasions, and Mr. VVeston
was consulted that afternoon. lie was quite surprised,
but gave his consent and proposed going to Mr.-. Over
ton the next day. Overton insisted upon Mrs. Smith’s
company upon the occasion, and she returned with tin
party the next day. Mrs. Weston’s astonishment,
mortification, and chagrin, may be imagined but not
described, when the party arrived, and silo learned that
Sandford had returned with them for the purpose of
marrying Emma. She was 11101‘a nervous than ever,
and was afraid that the sudden excitement would cause
her a spell of sickness. Three days af.er they arrived
at Mrs. Overton’s, Sandford and EinuiA were united
and left for the North. Mrs. Weston lived in dread
of being detected ill the part she had acted. Mrs Smith
pretended to know nothing about the particulars of the
courtship, and did not let any one know, but that it was
by accident that Sandford had met Emma. Mr. VVes
ton. Rosa and Overton, thought that Sandford had
long loved Emma, but had just made up his mind to
propose, and good v old Mrs. Overton had many fears
for Emma’s happiness, but according to Mrs. Weston’s
direction, was careful not to express them before any
one.
Lizzy was sent for, to attend her mistress. When
she arrive.!. Mr. VV eston his wife and daughter return
ed with Mis. Smith to the Springs, where they spent
the remainder of the summer. R >sa was married in
the fall, to a man, more wealthy and fashionable, than
intelligent and moral. Overton was married also.
Sandford was not so well pleased with the North as
he expected to have been. He returned and settled
in the same town where he had first met Emma
Mrs. VVeston was always suspected of having been the
cause of their unhappiness, but for the cake of pre
serving peace, nothing has ever been said to her about
the letters that were returned.
A New York piper merftion* the caw of a
couple of editors looking op—hut it was only t*>
see who threw a basin of dirty water on their
heads from a third story window.
“Ma,” 6aid an intelligent, tho ightful little
girl ol nine,’’ ‘*l don’t think Solomon was so
rich as they say he was. 1 ’
“VVhy.my dear, what could have put that in
your head?” asked the astonished mother.
•‘Because tho Bible says he slept with his
fathers, and l think if he had beep so rich he
would have had a wife to sleep with.”
How TO CREATE A TASTE FOR STO ITT IS CHIL
DREN.—There is a portrait in the house of a re
mote relative of iny family; h man, it seems,
who had fulfilled a legal appointment, of some
dignity. One day, as I was pasing with a lady,
the picture struck me. I asked her who he was.
‘o,’ she said, ‘that is one of your great uncles;
see what a great man lie is in his robes of office !’
‘And why, then,’ I asked, ‘was he great, and
how came lie to be so V ‘Because he was fond
of study, just as you should be. Look at all
those books by his side ; he was always reading
and reading, till lie had learned all that he wan
ted to know; and so he became a great man ;
and so may you, too, if you are only as fond of
books as he was.’
Nothing more was said; the good lady sup
posed. doubtles-., that her encouragement went
to waste, that her admonition was thrown away
upon the wind ; but it was nut so; the seed
fell on good ground, and brought forth fruit an
hundred fold- As soon as I was left alone, I
began to think of what I had heard ; of the
great man, of his fine flowing robes, and of his
means of greatness. What a fine thing if I
could mind my books, and h.> as great a-* he
was. I thought that l would trv it. Haifa
dozen times a day, as soon as I saw the picture,
it stirred iny spirit. I took on, as the country
people say, amazingly. I became zealous about
my studies, and my zea! soon softened itself into
pleasure. —Self Formation.
Fossil Kangaroo. —We learn from a com
muniration in the Middletown sentinel, by Dr.
Barratt, of that place, that a beautiful and dis
tinctly rnaiked east <>f a kangaroo has just been
dicovered in the Portland quarry, it is so char
acteristic hat there is no fear ol mi-take. Th*
animal was about 4 feet long, with a tail of 24
inches, strong and large at its base, and ta
pering. The bend of the hind legs, resting
like elbows, are singu'arly characteristic of
the kangaroo, the diameter of the joint being
2 inches, measuring outside both is oj inche
wide, the tail 3 inches over at its ba-e. Its
deep impress shows that the animal had used
great force, wefind a wave-like ridge,on the slab
behind; where the elbows had been placed.
Ihe body is small before, and no marks ol
foie feet are to be seen. This is another
striking peculiarity of the. kangaroo, which
moves by successful jumps, rarely walking on
all tours. I’lie broadest part of the figure he
hind is inches. This discovery is highly
important to geologists and students of nature!
history.
All Eloquent Letter from a Virginia Lady.
Governor .McDowell was invited by the committee
of arrangements for a 4th of July celebration at
Springfield, Mass., to deliver an oration on that occa
sion. The Republ’can publishes it reply from a daugh
ter of Governor McDowell, declining the invitation ex
tended to him on account ..f severe illness in his family.
We transfer to our columns the concluding portion of
this lettef, for the heart of true patriotism cannot but
be warmed by the noble language of this Virgiiiia—this
American lady :
“Your letter found him watching beside the sick bed
of a beloved chill, whose health, which lias been a
source of the deepest anxiety with him for many months
past, hasrecetltiy and rapidly so completely sunken un
der the power of pulmonary disease as to justify his
worst fears in regard to her, and to leave him in great
distress and hopelessness to await its fatal termination,
which cannot be distant.
“ Tbuseircumstaneed.be has neither mind nor heart
for anything beyond his own home. Dear as the pub
lic good is to him, secured as he believes it only can be
by preserving our Union as it is, and delighted, as a
Southern man and a Virginian, as he would be to unite
witli bis Northern brethren of Massachusetts in en
deavoring to restore a healthful state of feeling on this
momentous subject to till parts of the country ; yet, at
present, he can do nothing but tender his thanks to the
citizens of Springfield for their flattering notice of him.
and to express the hope that, .as in the past the great
commonwealths of Virginia and Massachusetts were
ever found side, battling with united hearts and hands
for the common good ol their common Country, so in
the future they may goon ns cordial and united as ever,
finding nothing in sectional or in party feelings strong
enough to break the tie which binds them to their Na
tional Union and to each other. Very respectfully,
SALLY C. P. McDOYVELL.
The Pride of doin? no Work.
There are ineri—we blush to call them
men—who turn up their noses at the mechanic
and humble laborer. Being liberally edu
cated, a it is called, they look down with a
sort of contempt on those who, in cases, have
contributed to their support. ‘You need not des
pise a spinning wheel,’ said an old lady to her
pompous son, one day, ‘for many a night have
I worked at it to get money to send you to
school.’ There are women, too, who will
not touch a needle with their delicate hands
who laugh at the poor and industrious who
learn trades, or work in factories, tor a living.
•La, how unrefined they are !’ she says with
a scornful smile, as she lounges on the sola,
reading the last pink of a novel.
We once knew ala ly—shall we call her a
lady?—>f this complexion. She was loudly be
laboring a poor hard working girl, calling her
low and unrefined. ‘Why,’ said she. her fathei
was n >thing but a low mechanic V ‘Yes,* re.
marked a woman pieaent, ‘her lather was a
mecliar ic. 1 knew him well, for he lived in the
same neighborhood with your mother when
she went out washing !’ There, reader, it
you had been present, you could have seen a
strange confusion of faces, and heard a vain
ittem >t to utter som'thing too quickly to come
>ui. It stuck in her throat.
vV >eo w. 5 h ) tr m m an I wo nm speak lightly
it the industrious part of the community.
vVi feel just like tracing back their genealogy
Wj have and >na s > in several instances, and
vo i would be surprised at what wa learned.
The most aristocratic man of our acquaintance
is the grand son of a fiddler; the proudest wo
man is the daughter of a washer woman. It
betrays a lack of good sense to condemn, or
look with contempt on any virtuous person,
however poor he or she may be. The wise
and go.ri ‘•espect and love goodness wherever
>t is found. — Boston Investigator.
If we would travel by a side road to hap.
piness, we must be content to pay the turn
pikes*
Vice is the whetstone which sharpens Time’s
scythe.
GOLDEN SANDS;
All that we see of th3 universe is a spot im
perceptibly small in the ample bosom of nature.
The philosophy of a thousand years has not
explored the chambers and magazines of the
soul
;p.um-ln)L
Mr. lobb’a Letter of Acceptaace.
Eatontox, June 18, 185!.
Hon. Howell Cobd — Sir : At a Conven
tion recently.held of the Constitutional Union
party, you were unanimously nominated their
candidate for the Chief Magistracy of Georgia.
The undersigned were apjjointed a committee
to notify you of your nomination, and to solicit
your acceptance.
In the performance of this duty, we may add,
that many of that Convention, were those with
whom you have hitherto agreed upon the politi
cal issues which have divided the country; many
were those who have hitherto differed from
you on those issues. Yet all, animated by u
ardent love for the preservation of that goveru
meiit which lias been transmitted to us by
Washington—now, when an imperiled Union
demands the loyalty of every patriotic heart,
forgetting all past differences of mere jiolicy,
and striving after .a higher and nobler object,
have unite*! to save that Union itself.
Not otfly has the spirit of fanaticism else
where, hut that of ultraisin anions us, sought
to destroy tile principles of our cover n men t as
expounded by Washington, Jefferson, and Mad
ison, but it has even sought to lay its-aeriligious
hands upon the government itself, and throw
into revolution and anarchy, that which is the
freest, happiest, and best 01 earth.
To avert this calamity and to preserve this
Union, upon the principles of the constitution,
have united the hearts and purposes of that por
tion of the people of Georgia who were repre
sented in the late Convention of the Constitu
tional Union party. By that party, with such
principles, voii have been nominated as a can
didate for the Chief Magistracy of Georgia.
Permit us to add the expression of our indi
vidual preferences as to its acceptance.
Yourob’t. serv’t.
JAS. A. MERIWETHER,
VV. 11. HULL,
J NO. M.LLEDGE,
W. T. WOFFORD,
T. W. THOMAS.
Athens, Ga, June 24, 1831.
Gentlemen :—1 have this day received your
letter of the 18th ilist., informing me of my
nomination by the Convention of the Constitu
tional Union party of Georgia, for the office of
Governor. With a full appreciation of the hon
or which the Convention lias conferred upon
tne, l accept the nomination, and, if elected, vv.ll
endeavor faithfully to discharge the duties of the
office,
The resolutions adopted by your Convention,
present in distinct term- to the people of the
State, an involving the peace and repose
of the country, if not the very existence of the
Union. No one can over-estimate the impor
tance of the decision which is to be pronounced
by tiie people upon it, aud it is only in a due
estimate of the consequences dependent upon
the result, that we can look for a judgment
worthy of the intelligence and patriotism of our
fellow-citizens.
During the exciting scenes that characterized
the deliberations of the last Congress on tin
slavery question, the public mind was directed
with intense anxiety to the action of our na
tional legi- lature. Every patriotic In-art in tin*
land fit that the isstn-s of life and <l-ath were
involved in the final adjustment of that angry
and exciting contest, which was threatening the
overthrow of the noblest structure ever erected
by human wisdom—the American Union
That result, so long and anxiously looked for by
tlte people of the .States, was at last consumma
ted by their representatives, in the adoption of
those bilK, familiarly known to the country a
tho “ adjustment’’or ‘* compromise measures.’’
1 do not propose at this time to discuss those
measures—lt would not t* altogether appro
priate to the occasion, even if l felt impelled to
such a course by the apprehension of any doubt
existing in the public mind, in reference to iny
views on this subject. I have alluded to tin
subject as introductory to another growing out
of those measures which challenges, in an em
phatic manner, the public attention, from recent
political movements in our own and neighbor
ing States.
When in consequence of the passage of the
compromise bills by Congress, the people of
Georgia were summoned to a Convention, to
consider of the course and policy, which the
adoption of those measures required, them to
pursue, we all felt that circumstances devolved
upon our State a responsibility of no ordinary
character, but one which tlce intelligence and
patriotism of the people peculiarly adapted her
to assume. The anxiety manifested in refer
ence to the action of that Convention, was not
Confined to the limits of our own State. It was
felt throughout the length and breadth of the
Union, and was second in intensity only to the
solitu 1 which had previously been exhibited
about the adoption of the measures, which bad
caused its assemblage. The questions which
that Convention were called upon to con-ider,
were discussed by the public press —by our pub
lic speakers —in private conversation —indeed
every mod i known to the political canvass, with
unusual warmth and marked ability. It is cer
tainly no reflection on any previous political
struggle in our State to say that on no former
occasion, was there more talent. 1 aiming, re
search and patriotism brought into requisition,
than by the respective friends and advocates ot
the various policies indicated in the course ot
the canvass. The representatives selected un
der these circumstances, assembled in Conven
tion ; a body of as wise and patriotic men a
ever before convened before in any State in tli
Union.. They came fresh from the people, fully
entrusted with their wishes, and empowered t<
speak authortatively for them ; and in the nam
of their constituencies, they placed ui>onthere
Cords of our State the enlightened judgment of a:,
holiest and patriotic people. It is unnecessar
for me here to speak of the action of the Con
veotion in detail. It is of too recent occurrence
and, therefore, too familiar to the people to r
quire a recital ofit. Not only will it be remember
ed what was the action of the Convention, but 1
should likewise be borne in mind that it met th
approving voioe of the people throughout th
State.
The universal sentiment of approval whicl
greeted the representatives on their return t
their respective constituencies, was rendered th
more striking and remarkable by the feebi
and occasional muttering* of the few rustle
and discontented spirits who withheld the.
sanction. Who supposed at that time the
there would have been arrayed in a few month
a political organization in the State, based upo
a repudiation of this wise, just, and enlightene*
| judgment of the people ?
If the people of Georgia are prepared to re-
verse a decision so recently and solemnly made,
and madly to rush the ship of State into the
gulf of disunion, in obedience to the summons
of a neighboring State, tiien it is manifest that
1 am not the man to select for their Chief Mag
istrate. For, while I concede that the South
has cause for complaint against the North for
their conduct in the past, in connection with the
question of slavery, )*et I mu-t. in candor, de
clare that there is nothing which in my judg
ment, will justify us iu dissolvings government
formed by Washington and his immortal com
peers, and which the committee are right in
pronouncing “ the freest, happiest, and best in
the world. ’’ It will be a dark day for liberty
throughout the world, when this step i taken.
The etfr-ct produced throughout tiie Union by
the action of that Convention, is not only grate
ful to our feeling of State pride, but should not
be without its influence upon our minds, when
we are invited to a reconsideration of the de
cision which was then pronounced. With our
si-ter States of the South, and with the patriot
ic friends of the Union everywhere, the action
of the Convention was hailed with exhibitions
of unbounded apjdause. The highest enco
miums were passed upon the wisdom, intelli
gence, and patriotism of its members, as exhib
ited in their firm and unvieldiug devotion to
the rights of the South, the constitution of the
country, and the Unioii of the States. Georgia,
already proudly pre-eminent among her sister
States, was thus elevated to a yet higher and
nobler jKjsition. As one of her citizens, I give
to the action of her Convention my warm, cor
dial, and unreserved approval, and am prepared
to give to the maintenance of her decision my
best efforts. She has declared, in the most sol
emn maimer, that “she can, consistently with
her honor , abide by the general scheme of paci
fication.” In that declaration I fully concur.
When I give to this action of her Convention
my unqualified approval, I do not feel that my
native State lias required me, as one of her citi
zens, to submit to an net of degradation. I will
not cast upon her the ungrateful reflection that
she has taxed the allegiance of her citizens, to
the extent of requiring at their hands a humil
iating submission to a condition of degradation
and inequality among her sister States. It is
with far different feelings that I regard her ac
tion. I look upon her in the proud position,
which she occupies in this confederacy of
States, and feel no blush of shame mantling my
cheeks as I read her history in the past —real-
ize her present pre-eminence—and look forward
to the bright prospect which the future opens
before her. Should, however, the time ever ar
rive when the conditions of her remaining in
the confederacy are degradation and inequality.
I shall be prepared, with her, “to resist, with
all the means which a favoring Providence may
place at her disposal,” even “(as a last resort,)
to a disruption us every tie which binds her to
the Union,” any and every power that seeks to
put upon her such debasing terms. Nor am I
particular by what name this resistance may be
characterized—whether secession, revolution, or
any thing tdse—fur no one can for a moment
doubt, the issue will be decided only bv the ar4
bitrament of the sword. Where constitutions
end, revolutions begin.
But, to my mmd, the future presents no such
gloomy fore boding*. So far we have maintain
ted the honor of our State, and at the same
time preserved the Union. A firm and unyield
ing adherence to the principles laid down by
our Convention, will ensure the future peace
and repose of the country, and will enable us,
in common with our brethren of the American
Union, to realize all those blessings which the
future has in store for our country, if we \yill
prove true to thehigli destiny to which we have
been called. L-t Georgia then remain firm in
the decision site has made, and not invite, by a
vaciliatingcourse.a renewal of sectional strife and
jealousies.
Returning you, gentlemen, mv thanks for the
flattering manner in which you have been
pleased to communicate to me my nomination,
by the Convention,
I am, verv respectfully, your ob't. serv’t.
HOWELL COBB.
Messrs Meriwether, Hull, MiltaJge, Wofford;
and Thomas.
Northerx Negroes.— Nineteen out of
ty ol the blacks in the north command no more
respect than the same number of sheep, and
being left to pursue their own inclinations, 'they
spend their days in idleness and their nights in
vice, depending on chanty or theft for the ne
cessaries ot life. We have travelled hundreds
ot miles through the South, and can testify to
the fact that the slaves live better and are more
comfortable and happy, in every respect, tbaq
our worthless negroes. W tth here and there an
honorable exception, the negroes of the north
never aspire to become mechanics, or even re*.
spec table laborers—they will always be found
doing the lowest and most degrading drudgery,
and all the money the}* obtain is spent for
rum, which prepares them for the poorhoiise,
the penitentia'y and the prison. They are des-.
titute of good breeding and learning and all
ambition to be honest and virtuous. \Ve know
that the welfare and happiness of the negro
would be consulted, if be were taken from his
-tate o ffreedom (!) and sent to the South, aud
wo doubt whether it would be a greater moral
sin to seize every motherV-son-of-’em and sell
them into slavery (appropriating the proceeds
to the payment of our State debt) than it is to
remain heie, half-fed, half clothed, uneducated,
leading a life of misery and destitution. At all
event, we are satisfied something must be done
with them, aud that before many years. They
must be either cleared out, or the lives and
proj>erty of our white citizens will be rendered
unsafe. Tile evil is daily increasing, and we
nay as well meet it sooner or later. The lon
ger we j>osti!oiie action in regard to it, the more
lifficult it will bo to accomplish the desired end
md rid ourselves of the growing evil.
As to the abolitionists, and ‘abolition phil*
1 nth ropy,’ the later is a client and the (ormef
ire all a set of miserable hypocrites. There is
not an honest man among them! They are as
worthless a set of vagabonds as the negroes, and
nore unprincipled because they have the intel
ligence to know what is right, but lack the 4#*.
-ire to pursue it. it would be no greater tocia! ot
ntional loss to have them sold into slavery, than
he negroes. A thorough-going black-hearted
ibolitionist will rather give two dollars towards
lefraying the expenses of stealing a negro, than
>ne dollar toward-* purchasing his freedom. He
/ill harbor a fugitive ou hit premises and make
lim work until he has earned something worth
laving and then infuim the poor darkie that hie
na-ter is after him and he had better cut stick
—leaving his funds in the hands of the “phil
anthropist.” The true abolitionists are the do
* acendanfs of TORIES of the revolution and
NO. 14.