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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.