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VOL. 2. TEEMS OF THE CITIZEN. JjgTTwo Dollars, per annum, in ad vance, or jjffir* Two Dollars and fifty cents if not so paid. Advertising and Job cus tomers allowed a discount of 10 per cent on regular rates. rgTAo subscriptions received unless accompanied with the cash or a respon sible reference. Postage must be pre-paid. Mail Arrangements. POST OFFICE, Macon. ) February 2, 1832. (j ON and after this date, the following will he the Mail Ar rangements at this Office, viz : The Northern Mail will close at 3 o’clock, P. M. The Savannah Mail, by the night train, will close at 3 o’clock P. M. The Savannah Mail, by the day train, will close at 9 o’clock P. M. The Charleston Mail will close at 3 o’clock, P. Mi The Milledgcville Mail will close at 9 o’clock, P. Mi The Cciamlms, Mobile, Montgomery and New Orleans Mails, will close at 9 o'clock P. M. The Augusta, Griffin, Atlanta, l'orsytji, llamesvillc. Marietta and Chattanooga Mails w ill close at 8 o’clock, P. M. The Oglethorpe, Fort Valley, Perry, Albany, UawkinsviUe and Americus Mail closes at 8 o’clock, P. M. The Florida and other South-Western Georgia Mails than tin- above, will close at 5 o’clock, P. M. Mails for Interior ollice.s in the rotate and Tennessee w ill close at 3 o'clock, P. M, The Oilice will be opened at Hi, A.M. and from 8 to HJ, P. M. Sundays from Hi to 9, A. M. and from H to Hi, P. M. Prnfssiannl &Unsiitss Curbs s. Ar It. I*. H IM., ATTORNEYS AT LAW, 31 a c o n , (1 a . OrrifK ou Cotton Avenue, over Little's Storfi. (net 11) j 1.. X. WHITTLE, Attorney at I, u\v , jan3 .V.ICO.V, G.l. -ly B, L. WOOD* DAGUERRE 0 TYPIST, MACON. GA. eVtUAN'CE FROM TIIE AVENUE. apr 19 RAILROAD EOUSH, OPPOSITE CENTRAL It YILROAD DEPOT EAST AM CO.\. i * > If S, M. I. \MF,R. ‘ p. <;. ARRINGTON, Attorney at Law and Notary Public, Oglethorpe, ITlacoii Cos., dec G EORIiI \ . 3d—tf | “city hotel, SAVANNAH,•.v.v.v.v.v.-GEORGIA i P. CONDON. Ttimc —Transient Hoarders, per day, ■* I.AO. Monthly and yearly Boarders in p.oportion. apr s —\ HARDEMAN & lIAMILTt >N, Ware House and Commission Merchant sl ,V ico.v- a F.OJIQi-1. HAMILTON A IIARDEMAN, FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS,; SAf .4.V.Y. I If. G F.OROI-1. W ill give prompt atteutioa-ts* business committed to them ; at eitlicr place. thos. iiardkmvs. (19-ts) chas. r. twnwos. ; FACTORAGE AND <Do2S3S:ifs©l§!S : Savannah, Ga* N ITM. p. YONGE, No. 94 Hay street. Savannah, continues | \ \ to transact a General Commission Business and Factor- i ase, and respectfully solicits consignments of Cotton, Corn, j and other produce. ’ He w ill also attend to receiving and for- j warding Merchandize. — April 5, 1851 ly WINSHIP & SON, WHOLESALE ANl> RKTAII. DKAIXtIS IN Ft nj and Staple Dry (Hood* and Ready Made Clothing. COTTN AVENUE, MACON, GA. \V. 1). ETHERIDGE & Cos., FACTORS Ac COMMISSION MERCHANTS, S.ir. /.V. Y.111, OEORQI.I. rjiijE undersigned having formed a Copartnership for the L transaction of the above business, tender their services i totlicir friends and the public generally and solicit a share of pair mage. We will pay strict attention to the sale of < ‘otton or other produce consigned to our care and all orders (or Bag ging. Rope and family supplies w ill be promptly attended to and filled at the lowest prices. Liberal advances will lie made upon Cotton nrotlier produce consigned to us. s. r. cove, (au23-y) w. n. etheeipp*. j R&3MN, FULTON &©©., j Factors <V Ftinimissioii Meniiaut*, aug‘3o SAVANNAH , GEORGIA. —Gin j SASH AND WINDOW BLIND SvLi 2Y DQ. ‘QLL O <1 U? ® r|"MIK subscriber is manufacturing the above article* by JL Steam Machinery, at very moderate prices. TURNING AND PLANING. He has machinery for this business, and will promptly exe cute any jobs in this line. ALEX. MrGUECOR. jul>'26 ‘'III F IRE INS UR A N C E BY TIIE COMMERCIAL INSURANCE COMPANY OF CHARLESTON S. C. CAPITAL $350,000 —ALL PAID IN. \V M . B. lleriot, Pres A. M. Lee. Ser.’y. Directors : James K. Robinson, Geo. A. Trenholm, Robert Caldwell, R. Taft, Henry T. Street, Win. Mcßurney, J. 11. Brawley, T. L VVragg. rpHE subscribers having been appointed Agents for the I. above Company, are now prepared to take risks against Fire, on favorable terms. OAKHART, HKO. & CO, j'inc2l Jlpmts. | j DllS. HANKS A- ROOSEVELT tender their professional services to the citizens of Macon and sur- : rounding country. Residence on College Hill, the house formerly occupied by j Charles Day. Office on the corner of Third and Walnut street. ; W. H. BANKS, M. 3. (sept6-V) C. J. lIOOEEVEbIt M. D. R. G. JEFFERSON & CO. MANUFACTURER AND WHOLESALE DEALERS lJ CHAIRS, West Side Broad St., first door above P. Af Larin's, COLUMBUS, GA. riMIEY keep on hand an excellent supply of Office. Wood iL Seat. Split Bottom and Rocking Chairs i Bedsteads, Wood en Ware, fee. STF” All Orders left as above, will meet w ith prompt atten tion. novl—tf W. s. WILLIFORD, COMMISSION MERCHANT AND AUCTIONEER. Macon, Ga. All kinds of Produce and Merchandise, (except liquors) re ceived an consignment. sep27 Clandies. —-0 boxes assorted in 25 lh. cases, fresh, and (for sale by (dec6) a A. ELLS & SON. Public Sale of City Lots. WILL be sold at public outcry op WEDNESDAY 2d of March next, Eight Half-Acre LOTS, in a pleasant and i etired part ot the city handsomely located for family residen ces, being all of Square 9., recently laid out on the North Com mon, near the river and to Rose liill Cemetery. Terms made known on the day of sale. By order of Council, feb2l—i tds A. R. FREEMAN, C. C. New York and Savannah STEAMSHIP LINE. r IMI E new and splendid steamers Capt -L Lyon, and ALABAMA, Cupt. Ludlow, be longing to the NEVY YORK AND SAVANNAH j STEAM NAVIGATION COMPANY,on and alter jibe llili inst., will leave Sivasxah and New York every Saturday until further notice. These ships are 1.200 tons register, and unsurpassed in comfort safe ty and speed. Cabin passage, §25 —payable in li vauce. Address PADLEFORD, FAY & CO. .Savanna i SAMUEL L. MITCHELL, 184 Front St., Kew York, anil —y The Old Hat Store. C l ENTLEMEN w ho are in want of a fine and fashionable X HAT. will be certain to cal! at llelden’s old stand, oppo site the Lanier House. [gep27] BELDEN & CO. House servants for sale—a woman and her child, 5 or G years old, recommended as a supe rior house servant, washer and good cook. Enquire of novls GEO. T. ROGERS. RECEIVED by Worthington, Bnr b3|g mini As Cos. Beebe S: Cos. and Leary’s justly Jjcelebrated new ~tvle IIATS, for sale low, octn COTTON AVENUE. Sullivan House, MACON, GEORGIA. ■ j THE subscriber having taken the Hotkl latcty fitted up, fronting the Court House, on the iMtlSile corner of Mulberry street, and Court House ‘ejsitS® Square, will open the same on the Ist Oeto her. next,and would be pleated to have a call from his old friends. This House is con vunient to all the Bail Roads and immed iately in front of the general passenger Depot, and he w ill be prepared to accommodate travellers and boarders, by the sin gle meal, day, week, or month. M. SULLIVAN, j sepr 20—ts IAI4IIIN’ Lace and Congress l’runella, Matin, t rnneia and Silk Gaiters; Black, Bronze and White Kid and Sat i in Slippers; Black and Bronze Embroidered French Slippers | Da rod i and Jenny Lind Enameled and Kid Ties, Buskins and Boots, just received by(sep‘-’7) YVm. B. FERRY is Cu. FANCY GOODS AND Hill 18 I m Ym MRS. DAMOUR, is now receiv \sjpfv injj her Fall supply in the above line al, d b y ®ocli week's Steamer wik & AtXg'tf receive a fresh supply of the most I SSjjf fashionable Goods, consisting of the newest styles of Silk and Straw Bonnets, Ribbons, Flowers, Feath ’ fp\ ers and all kinds of Bonnet trimming, a choice lot of Dress Silks, and dress trimmings such as Fringes, Gimps, Bullous, Velvet and Ribbon ! trimmings. Ball Dresses, Veils, Capes, Collars and | other Embroideries, which will be sold cheap. octls-tf t> ll'll CHINA and BOHEMI AN GLASS sept 20—ts GEO. JONES. New York Branch Store COTTON A VENUE. OPAULDING A WILLIAMS have removed to the i | 2d door above Winship’s and reopened with a n-w toe!, of FALL A LTD WINTER DRY GOODS, which will be *idd fi,r Cits It . at exceeding low priors. We have Silks from 75 cis. up ; Del.nins from 12 j up ; Prints from G \ up ; Bleached and Brown Whirlings t'ro in 5 cts. up, al so a large sock of Blankets. Flannels, Ticking, Tabic Linens Bosom Linens, &r„ from low-price to fine, together with a full assortment of Hosiery, Laces, Gloves. Ribbon.’ and Fancy- Articles. We respectfully solicit a call from the Ladies. Goods received every w eek per Steamer. oct4 27-ly I > UTTER & CHEESE.— IO fccg* Goshen Butter, ) 50 boxes Cheese, rec’d weekly per steamer and for sale low by novla GEO. T. ROGERS. Molasses. —lO hhds. of superior quality, and in noc order just rec’d and for sale by novls GEO. T. ROGERS. ““OPENING RICH’ 7 SMITH A MITCHELL, Triangular Block,Cotton Avenue, are now opening the following choice ar ticles : Gentlemen's fancy Cravats, Scarfs and Tier. AA"Lite and Figured Silk and Lawn IlkfTs. Merino, Cotton and Silk YYoli.en Shirts and (Drawers. “ <£ “ White and Zebra Hose. Berlin, Lisle, S lk, Cloth, Buckskin, and French Kid Gloves , White and colored, While and fancy colored Shirts , in every style. Umbrellas, Trunks, Traveling Bags, Valises, Ac., Ac., Ac. ts sept 13. Guns! Guns!! VI’INK assortment of Single and Double-Barrelled GUNS, of every quality, from $l2O to 9150} just received and for sale by (tiov22 —ts) I). C. HODGKINS & SON. r r.VYL()R’S CREAM ALE—A supply of this cel- I ebrated Ale, received weekly from manufacturers and for sale by novls GEO. T*. ROGERS. | A BBLS. New No. 3 Mackerel, JLU 10(1 sacks Corn, 40 kits Mackerel, 200 bids. Thomaston Lime, on consignment, oct 11 L. COWLES. “Cheese, wliat’s Cheese.” TUB subscriber is sole agent for S. Cowles A Son r superior Cream Cheese which is not excelled in the Union. Just received 50 Boxes S. Cowie's superior Cream Cheese, and a few more of the same sort coming. Also, 100 bbls. and Sacks, containing 100, 50 and 25 pounds Atlanta Steam Mill co. Flour Made from | selected Wheat and warranted as fine as any flour in the United States. Also, Bacon, Lard, Butter, Irish Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, and every thing in the eating line that can be obtained. (sep:27) L. COWLES, Ag’t. CHESTS Teas, assorted, put up in J and J pound tj packages. For family use. 100 Sacks Corn on consiirnmeiit. L. COWLES, Ag’ VVERY handsome selection ol white Gold Band and [iKroRATKD China Ten Notts just opened. Call j and see before the assortment is broken. GEO. JONES, sept 90 —t J Dr. IPIIAJI’S VEGETABLE ELECTUARY. Internal Remedy for the Piles ! npilE Electuary is a r-anin cure for Piles, whether Bleed -1 mi r or Blind , Internal or Eitcrnnl Piles, ind also for oth er diseases found in conjunction with Piles. Price SI per package, Cash, just received and for sale hy W. G. LITTLE CQ , Cotton Avenue, Macon who keeps constantly on hand large and fresh supplies of Drugs and Medicines, Paipu-, Oils, Glassware &c„ wholesale and retail. aug23-y SILVER Tea-set and Pitchers. —A beautiful ar ticle for sale by (.decl3) E. J. JOHNSTON. 1 AA ncw P'S Hants. IU V 10 Barrels superfine Flour. 20 Boxes Northern and city made Candy, 20 “ New Rasins. 20 Gross Fire Works. Jus reoenrJ and for sale by dec 13 ts j. S. GRAY BILL. /’AIIOICE GEORGIA IIAMS—BOO Hams of supe rior quality, 1100 Pig do. this fall’s curing, 5 casks Canvassed Hams, 1000 Georgia Sides, just received by n°vls GEO. T. ROGERS. sttoj Produce by the Wholesale i ‘ THE attention of Plasters and others who may L\ . sSfbave to purchase supplies for the year is respectfully called to the large assortment of EAST TENNESSEE AND UP PER GEORGIA PRODUCE, now being received on consign ment, and which may be had on good terms, for cash, at the New Produce Store of W, F. HARRIS St CO, dec6 —2m Cotton Avenue. “ IMepenitent iu all tjjings —lieuftal in natljing.” MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 28, 1852. Plows, Plows, Plows ! Speed the Plow that beats the World ! PLANTERS about pieparing for the next crop are requested to recollect that John Rich’s justly celebrated PLOWS are still manufactured in Macon, and can be had in any quantity the demand may require. Also that the testimony of a large number of our most respectable and responsible plan ters goes to prove that the Corn and Cotton cultivated with these Plows the last season, stood the drouth much better than that cultivated with the common Plow, and recollect furthei that when the points become dull and unfit for use, tliat 121 cents, and the old point delivered in Macon, will replace it with anew one, which makes this deeidedly the best plow now in use for the planter. Remember the old maxim : “Plow- your ground deep, While sluggards sleep, And you will have corn To sell and to keep.” Apply opposite the Ocmulgec, Fouhdry, nearin e Macon 4c \\ estern Railroad Depot, Macon Ga. deefi—y AMOS RENTON, Agent. Ftfoin ihe Memphis Eagle. Lucifer. CT L. VIRGINIA SMITH. ‘A young Italian artist once drew a representation of Lucifer, so \ivid and glowing that it left the canvas and came into the painter’s soul; in other words, haunted bis mind by night and by day, producing at last frenzy and death.’ ’Twas night upon the Arno. Witellingly To starlit waters sighed the southern wind, Yet wakened not their slumbers ; soft the earth Sank to Iter dewy dreaming*, and the sky Embosomed in itsdeptlisa mystery Which stole within the spirit, shadowing Faint visions of Eternity, and God! High o’er the waters hung a single star, I’ar gleaming from the casement of an old And lone palazzo, haunted, hastening To ruin and decay. ’Twas the abode Os beauty, pi ide and misery. W ithin A lofty chamber drearily upstreamed Tall waxen tapers, waking phantasies Grotesque upon the bare and mouldy walls, W here half was light, half panoplied in gloom. The radiance blazed upon a picture, lone, Aud strangely beaußlul. As one entranced, Before it the young painter stood transfixed, And gazed, half-shrinkingly, upon his proud And terrible creation. Tangled curls Hung damp upon his brow, and heavy drops Os mental agony ; his straining eye Had it wild lustre, and the restless gleam W Im-lt would have died to tear itself away, Yet clung upon the canvas. lie was mad! His was a haunted midnight of the mind, Where ec-ltot and one loin’ passion ;-.*Wc and home. Pleasure and fortune lie had flung aside, And given iiis spirit to ambition, which ll crime it.must be called, was sure the first Proud sin of the archangels. Lucifer! The potraiturc bad kindlid ’neatli bis toueli, As from live red air-crystals, God lit up The fiery battle-star, —with burning eyes That glistened up his being from the skies, lie painted on, till feeling waxed a curse, And thought a maddened frenzy. Set-iniugly, From out a lurid chaos, vague and vast, Bounded the fallen angel, and the gloom, Blazed iu bis swarthy lustre. From bis proud, Inflated nostril streamed a breath of flame, And every graceful and colossal limb W as tensioned with sueh deadly spring as nerves The couchant tiger. Round about him hung A wild and savage lonelimss, and yet Supremely desolate, and desolately calm In horrible sublimity. Afar His mighty pinions swept along the sky Like triple night descending ; deep within Their heavy plumes were stains of blood, which glowed Like crimson comet stars; —and round his heart, The hydra ‘worm undying’ writhed in fire Unquenchable. His high uplifted brow, Where dwelt the haughty spirit which defied Omnipotence, upon its adamant Bore record of ten thousand lightnings, yet There slmne a gloomy glory, which revealed The mountain soul that threw its haggard cliffs In mockery to Ileaven! The blasting spell Os his deep eye was strong and terrible ; Within, a pandemonium which cast Its glances forth, a mingled multitude Os swiftly darting fiends. Its serpent gaze Clasped the boy-painter’s sonl, and fed upon Tlie life of his young being. Hist! the knell Os midnight, from some distant convent bell. The painter started suddenly,—a gleam Crossed his wan features, lighting up awhile, The heart so weary, and the eyes so wild. He spoke, —with shuddering utterance, his voice Seemed the wild sobbing of some wailing wind That struggles up beneath its weary weight Os tempest-crowded darkness. ‘Pride-monarch ! with my pencil swift and free, I would have traced a god from Ileaven hurled, But thou hast sprung—a dread reality Front ihe deep bosotn of a darker world! Some dire abyss where angels never trod, Fierce outlaw from the Paradise of God ! I feel thee in the strong, unearthly thrill That checks the deep life-currents as they roll, Thine iron influences chain me still, Dread dweller in the shadows of my soul! Spare me, ah ! spare me the remorseless ire, That rages ’neatli thy diadem of fire ! I wandered once upon the wings of light, I climbed the steep of Ileaven from star to ttar, — Half-pierced the veil that shrouds the infinite, Anl caught the chorus from those realms afar— Where twice ten thousand in seraphic choirs, Roll back the anthems from immortal lyres. There was a time, mine was the courage high That sends the war-horse bounding on the spears, When Danger’s self, before my dauntless eye And deeds of daring, quailed in hollow fears. I dread thee notv, —thou lost and lightning-driven, Aye, more than death beneath the bolts of Heaven ! Siiade of the mighty!—thou art dark and lone, Yet, through the fiend-dights gathered in thine eye It seems at intervals as sorrow shone, As though ’twoulfl .ask ee’n human sympathy.— My soul is wrung tq give it thee, and weeps Gieat drops of anguish from its tortured deeps. All love’s sweet pulses, passion’s glowing dreams. The gorgeous phantoms of mine earlier day, Hope, pleasure, memory, crushed and broken themes, Swept by one waving of thy wing away ; Now, dread magnificence, thy burning shrine Takes the last ashes of this life of mine !’ ’Twas early dawning—cheerily its beam Crept through the narrow casement, with the voice Os weakened winds and waters, and the chime Os far ofF matin bells. The artist-boy Lay wrapped in slumber ’neath the tapers pale, And blazing picture. A my>teiious spell Held the light pinion of his spirit furled, — For life, and misery, and pride had flown, And all but beauty left the desolate. Peace to him, The tempest-tossed and weary. True, the world Had gloomy thoughts of Jtitn, and one by one, It cast them on his memory, till the cairn Grew to a lone and melancholy monument. We pass—to fling upon the rugged stones A fragile garland front the grove of i-ong, And Pity’s pale, sweet blossoms, —murmuring ‘R'-st, troubled spirit, rest!’ 55.5.5.1.1 !JJ!J}> From the New York Organ. Losing a lit*art. BY DAVID SY. BARTLET. The following simple sketch I found the oth er day while looking with mournful interest over the papers of a deceased friend. It will explain itself, but the reader may feel enough interest in its author to wish t<> know his fate ; he died a few weeks since and slumbers now beneath the sods of his native valley. Come with me into my little room, friend, and I will show you how once l lost a heart! You start, and well you may, for a guileless, human heart is a priceless treasure when pos sessed—and when once lost never can truly be recovered again. Or, you start to think that. I never had a heart to loose ! You have been gazing at my wrinkled forehead, at my grey hairs—yet I am only a bachelor of forty. You forget I was young once, and fair like yourself. Sit down by my table while I unlock that portfeuille ami show you a picture. ‘Beautiful!’ Ay, it is a beautiful picture; never were there sweeter eyes, a fairer forehead, a more devoted heart than hers —in that picture be fore you. And here is a lock of Iter auburn hair—and these fingers of mine once played through it when it was upon her head. I was born with a sensitive, passionate loving nature. That which was trifling toothers oft en was agony to me. A careless word, ti thoughtless deed, often sent me to my room in tears, or roused the passion of my heart. The crowning fault in uty character, and it grew out. of, in a manner, my sensitiveness, was jea lousy. A\ ho in 1 loved, I loved with my whole heart, and I claimed a whole heart in return. 1 was easily made jealous of the love of a friend, tv as careful how I formed friendship, and at the age of twenty had never loved a woman. In the twentieth summer I left home to spend the season with an uncle in Pennsylva nia. While there I met at a village party, Su san R , and when I first saw ht-r 1 was struck with her beauty. It was not vulgar beauty— there was a spiritual look upon her face which made it pure and holy, as well as beautiful. A few evenings after 1/ bad made her ac quaintance. T met a party if people at her fath er s house, Judge R s pleL.iiit country • I was defending a favorite alithor of mme from ‘he attacks of several sharp critics when Susan K. quotca a passage ot exquisite poetry from him—it was anew and young poet—which I wats vainly endeavoring to remember, and which sileiufod the coterie of fault-finders. She recited it in a voice of subdued sweetness, and seemed to express its lovely beauties upon her face. I was entranced, and during the evening offered her my arm for a walk out beneath the veranda. She accepted with a blush of plea sure ; it seemed to me. The moonlight was soft and enchanting, and the fragrance of gar den flowers floated around us. We talked of poetry, and men and women, and of human sympathies and affections. She was modest and trembling, and yet not affectedly so, and talked in a low musical voice of the real woes and joys incident to life, lhero was little of fash ionable ‘small talk’ upon her lips—she was too pure and intellectual for that. Her brother joined us—he had missed her and sought her out—and I was cordially invited by him to visit him whenever I would, to hunt, ride, listen to Susan’s playing, or anything which would add to my pleasure. I visited there often, and the morn I saw of Susan the more truly did I love her. These was a sweet ness about her beauty which it is rare to find in this world, and her disposition was lovely as the breath ot a June morning. Her eyes were dark blue, her hair of auburn, and Iter face ra diant with trustful love. She was an only daughter, and I always wondered how she grew up so pure and gentle, having been so petted and fondled from childhood bv her father —but her mother was a woman of intellect and piety. Susan was almost too gentle and sensitive, for, if you have noticed, the happiness of such in this world is a precarious tiling. Day after day I visited Judge It’s, feigning excuses when my whole object was to see Susan. I loved her with all my heart; anew life had sprung up within me, and I saw peace and happiness in the future. But I dared not avow my love, for I was sure I could not outlive the refusal of her heart. One summer day we went out together into the fields, and sat down beneath the shadow ofan elm to rest, when talking of flowers we whispered ot love. 1 cannot tell you how, but wiiu the sweet sky overhead, and the murmur of the bees amidst the clover, and the songs of birds, 1 won her heart and bound it to mine by a vow from her sweet lips. We were engaged ! Alt! that is her portrait before you, with the blue eyes and auburn hair—as she was then ! I had it taken shortly after we became engag ed, and wore it next my heart- yes, J, old, wrinkled bachelor that I am; and you need not start, for, like you, I was fair once. The weeeks went happily away, until one day, sitting at dinner at my uncle's, my cousin Henry said: ‘Charles Leaton is at home again ! ‘Who is Charles Leaton.?’ 1 asked. ‘Judge R’s favorite,’ he replied,‘a young man lie has helped from boyhood, and is now help ing to position and wealth. He is a great favor ite with Susan too, and you had better have a care, cousin, mine, or you will rue the day he set his foot in Judge R.’s mansion! Naturally sensitive and jealous, my intense love for Susan made ihese words burn hotly upon my heart- 1 went to my room beside my self with agitation; and when R was evening went over to J udge Ij’s. As 4 matter of course, I saw everything through jealous eyes. Young Leaton was there, when Susan introduced him tome I saw a gleam of triumph on her face. She knew that I was in torment, and was placid and smiling. Was she a coquette? Or, was she false to me ? I harbored such thoughts with horror, yet harbored them. All that night l was in agony. The next morning I started to go and see her, but my pride aroie and 1 turned to my chamber. Sometime in the course of the evening my love prevailed, and I walked over to Judge R’s. But what a sight did I behold when 1 approached! It was a clear moonlight evening, 1 saw Susan beneath the veranda lean ing upon Leaton’s arm. Yes, bis arm was a round her waist —she that was to be my wife ! My heart trembled to the verge of bursting — it seemed as if I should drop down helpless in the path. Then there came a revulsion of feel ing; my pride and passion awoke—l would leave her, the faithless thing—fly to the ends af the earth—and from her! I told her so in a note the next morning—told her how I had seen her in the arms of another, released her from her vow, and that when she received those lines I would be away, and that I would go far, far from my native land, and try to forget the past!’ ‘Rash!’ Upbraid me not —my heart has done that enough —hear me out. I lied to Europe. I did not even leave a single direction for receiving letters from home. 1 went to Italy, and wandered restless beneath its beautiful skies; and visited classical Greece with a worn heart, and iu Spain endeavored to forget the past, but I could not. Memory was too faithful, amlsometiinesconscience whisper ed I had been too precipitate. Two years had passed away when I landed again upon my native shore, ihe impulse to visit the town where Susan lived was irresisti ble. I did so, and arrived on a beautiful after noon in autumn. There was a gulden quiet every where, on the woods, and skies, and fields. I stooped at the village inn before proceeding to my Unde’s. The landlord stood with me upon the steps. I heard the village bell strike solemnly and slow. ‘There is a funeral ?’ I said. ‘Yes, Susan R. is buried to-day ’ I heard the name, and feel senseless to the ground. I remember nothing more for weeks, I was taken, ill and delirious to my Uncle’s, and lay for weeks between earth and eternity. J udge R. and son came kindly to enquire after me — they understood all, and pitied me while they censured. When I was well enough the fallow ing lines from Susan were put into my hands: ‘Dear E.—l shall never, never see you again in this world, for they say that l must die, for I have the consumption. It matters not, for were I to live you would never come to me again. Charles Leaton is my cousin, was a poor orphan, and always lived with us from boyhood, and I loved him as a brother, and nothing more. That night when you saw us he was tolling me of his engagement to a lady whom lie lias married since r and my brother stood behind us laughing and saying I ought to tell Charles my secret too. “Dear E. you will find a heart better, nobler, perhaps, and a head wiser, but never one more faithful than this poor heart of mine, which ache and throbs so uow. You may never see theses lines, but if vmi do you will know hov. - true I was to you —how l loved you to the last. I want you to know this —ymd yet you must not feel sorrawfid, for 1 do not blame you for what you have done. I have beeu happy in wandering alone where we used to wander. Do you re member the elm underneath which you first called me yours ? But I can't wiite any more, if you ever see this, know that I was ever, ever yours. Farewell.” She died of a broken heart; I knew it from what her father said. She pined away slowly, for site hoped always that 1 might come back, month after month her hope grew fainter, and the silver chord snapped asunder at last, and her heart, bruised and bleeding flew to rest upon the bosom of Him who was sorrowful while on earth. And I did this, by my madness and cruelty, I broke the poor creature’s heart, Ay, and my own too, my own too! There is her picture, the same beautiful face—gentle heart, I slaved her, though she trusted iu me! The Christmas Present. BY LIEUT. MURRAY. The keen atmosphere of a Christmas morn ing was sweeping over the west end of London, when our stoiy commences. If any observant person had been stirring abroad so early, tbey iniglit have heard the plaintive chant of a chim ney sweep from a lofty house top, as lie strug gled gradually towasds the top of the flue, lie must have been at work long before daylight to have got so nearly through nis job at that early hour. But as the faint rays of the sun strug gled with the mist and fog of a London morn ing, the little laborer emerged weary and dirty from the scene of his labors. ‘Well,’ said the boy, ‘ they do say as how St. Nicholas goes down these ere flues of a Christ mas morning, but he’d got wedged in there, blow me if be would'nt less he had been up to a sweep’s tools. The boy stretched his arms and legs after the severe work lie had just accomplished in so contracted a space, and looked about him to see the prospect from his elevated position and even went down to the gutter of the house top, to look down into the street below. “My boss, that old cove as boats me and drives me up these ere flues, will give me a regular rouser if 1 don't go down in no time; so here goes,” saying which, he mounted the chimney top to begin his descent. Down, down went the little sweep, chanting his melodious though monotonous song to while away the dreariness ot’ the work. Once or twice the boy paused as though a little sur prised at something lie saw, but his voice was heard again chanting on merrily as he pro ceeded. “My eyes,” exclaimed the little sweep, (which by the way was about all of the hoy’s face that could be discerned at ail through the thick coat of smut that shrouded his features.) ‘My eyes!’ lie repeated, ‘if here ain’t a go! Why, I’m blowed if I liaint gone and come down the wrong flue! What a jolly fine place this is— somebody’s chamber! Well, wlio'd a thought of such a thing ?” As the little fellow emerged from the fire place, he found that he had come down proba bly the flue of the next house to that which he had ascended. The apartment into which he had emerged was indeed a splendid oqe ; but to the inexperienced e3*e it looked like enchant ment; everything so rich, clean and comforta ble. In his wildest moments of imagination he had never dreamed of such luxury. He seemed almqst afraid to advance into the room from the hearth, and his first impulse was again to as cend. “Blow me, if I didn't think I was coming down the wrong flue when I was up there,” he said musingly. Then he reasoned that if he went back he would get a thrashing for being gone so long, or if his mistake was discovered bv his master, he would be whipped for that, lie had been lobbed of half a nigtit’s sleep in order to ac complish this very job; he was tired—very tired. “What jolly fine sleeping a cove might get on that ere bed. My eyes 1 how soft it is,” con tinued the sweep, as he laid his hand upon the soft white counterpane, and left thereupon an imprint of soot! It was a temptation too potent for his wean limbs! lie was tired aud sleepy; bethought he would just lie down for a moment to see how such a bed would feel. But hardly had the poor biy realized the luxury of a soft leather bed before nature asserted her rights and he slept. What a dream that poor boy had! can we describe it ? lie dreamed he was in paradise, and soft mu sic sounded in his ears, and food, abundant, lus cious and refreshing, was by liis side. A gen tle hand smoothed the hair from his forehead, and kissed him. How his heart beat; a kiss! lie didn't recollect of ever being kissed before. He had seen kind folks kiss little children; but an angel had kissed him now ! He was clothed in his dream in clothes as white and spotless as those on which he was lying; aud an exquisite sense of refreshed powers stole over him. But while the boy lay thus in dreamy forget fulness, the mistress of the house entered. — Scarcely able to suppress the astonishment that possessed her, she yet reasoned upon the mat ter, and tracing by the boy's tracks from the chimney place the fact that he had descended the flue, she even guessed the trutli of his mis take, and with a heart, full of kindness on this Christmas morning, she determined to turn the event into one of real happiness. When the little sweep awoke, some three hours after having thrown himself down to sleep, he felt frightened at his own audacity, and crept trembling from the bed to the cen tre of the room. But scarcely had he shown signs of being awake, before the stout house maid, stationed there for the purpose, seized him by the arm and said; “Here, you blackamoor, missus says you are to be washed, and master has sent these clothes home for you. So come along to the bath room and don’t stand there staring as though you saw a ghost.’’ All this was Greek to the poor sweep and half undecided whether he was to be punished for something he had done, or whether the pro posed bath was intended a kindness, the boy yielded himself to the staid old housekeeper, who doused him headlong into a bath tub, and then wiped him so thoroughly with a coarse crash towel that Uis flesh burned for an hour afterwards. “Well, I declare,’’ said the housekeeper sur veying the young sweep, after the soot was completely removed from his head and face, aud the neck of the boy was encircled by a clean linen shirt, “if this here aint almost a miracle. Why, the boy is really handsome, now lie’s clean aud christianfied. Well, what a halteration soap and water will make some times, to be sure.” Now it happened that Mr. and Mrs. Howland had a large Christmas dinner prepared that day, aud many of their town and country relatives and intimate friends were to d.iue with them, and the good matron resolved to prepare for them a pleasant surprise in tho matter of the little sweep who had come into her house in such a singular manner, and for this purpose she had privately instructed the housekeeper to dress him up nice and clean, and make the most of him. But Mrs. Howland was as much surprised as any one, when just after the Christmas din ner, the housekeeper brought the boy into the room, lie had been thotougbly washed, and his hair trimmed by a barber, a nice suit of dean clothes and linen shirt and collar put on him ; and he had further been refreshed by a nice dinner of beef and vegetables, and a cup of such coffee as he thought he should remember forever, “ W hy, what a handsome boy he is,’’ exclaimed half a dozen voices at once. “You should have seeu him as he laid sleep ing in my room,” said Mrs. Howland, ‘he was black as the ace of spades.’ ‘lie’s as clean as a pin, now,’ suggested one. “What can you say for yourself, my little fel low?’’ asked Mrs. Howland. “Nothing,” replied the boy, demurelv. “Guess be can sing,’’ suggested the house keeper; ‘all sweeps sing.’’ “Uli lei us hear him sing, by all means. A song, a song!’’ The boy could sing, for the old fellows who employed the little sweeps taught them songs that they might know they were safe while iu the flues by their songs—and thus urged the boy sung one or two rude chants, until at last he struck into oue that he seemed rather at a loss to give any definite words to, but the air of which he gave with great beauty and correct ness. The song seemed to tin ill to the very heart of Mis. Rowland, aud her husband watched her face while it was in progress. “That was the song, ’’ she said to her husband, ‘we sung to our little William.’ “1 knew it well,’’ he said. ‘‘Strange that this child should know the air.” “It is.” Where did you learn that song, my little fel low 3” asked Mrs. llowland. “I don't know, sir.” ‘ Don't know!” No, sir. I have always sung it since I can remember.’’ “indeed!” During the conversation Mrs. Howland had taken the boy’s hand m the utmost trepidation, aud leading him hastiiv to the light, parted back his hair from the right temple, and tiudr ing there a deep scar, almost screamed to her husband— “ This is it, it is William, our lost child. 1 ’ Six years before tins period Mr. and Airs. Howland had lost their only child, a boy of some three years of age, who had been dressed quite expensively, aud with many ornaments about ins little person. The child had been left by a servant for a single moment, exposed at the door, and had been carried oti by some thief, aud by a strange thread of circumstances, had been brought up a little sweep, aud now Provi dence had sent it back to its parents as a Christ mas present. We believe that every well-regulated family ought always to have one baby in it, just for the tun of the thing. You will always find it a good plan, when you go to get measured for anew pair of boots, 1 to draw on three or four pair of stockings. CONNECTICUT BLUE-LaWS. The bitter and sweet are supposed to be equaily commingled in our cup of life, and we are not to suppose that it is for any other rea son that our vices and virtues are as equally balanced. We have our trials and blessings, our punishments and rewards, even from infan cy y. and those of who have good memories and candid tongues, will confess to the recollection of those youthful hours when we got a stick of candy for being good, and a slap or two for squalling. We are remintfad of the lights and shadows of life, the virtues lnd vices of human ity, by the following list of the celebrated ‘ Blue Laws,’ which are mostly libels upon the name of religion and justice, though they were genuine emanations from the hearts and brains ot some ot the venerable first settlers of New England. The governor and magistrates constituting the general assembly, are the supreme power of Cod, ot independent dominion. From the de termination of the assembly, no appeal shall bo made. Whoever says there is a power and jurisdic tion above and over this dominion, shall suffer death and the loss of property. Conspirators attempting tochange or turn tho dominion, shall suffer death. The judge shall determine controversy with out a jury. No one shall he a freeman or carry a vote unless he is converted, and a member in full communication with one of the churches al lowed in this dominion. No man shall hold any office who is uot sound in tne laith, and faithtul to this dominion; and whoever gives a vote to such a person shall pay a fine of twenty shillings for the first ofUmce, and for the second he shall be disfranchised. Each freeman shall swear by the blessin* of God to lx a-true allegiance to this dominion, and that Jesus is the only king. No Quaker or dissenter from worship of tho established dominion shall be allowed to give a vote for ihe election of magistrates or any other officer. No food or lodging shall be offered a Quaker, Adamite, or other heretic. Isa person turns Quaker, he shall he. banish ed and not suffered to return on pain of death. No priest shall abide in this dominion ; he shall be banished and suffer death on his re turn. Priests may be seized by any one without a warrant. No one shall cross a ferry without an author-*, ised ferryman. No one shall run on the Sabbath day, or walk in the garden or elsewhere, except reverentlv to and from church. No one shall travel, cook victuals, make up beds, sweep house, cut hair, or shave on the Sabbath day. No woman shall kiss her child on the Sab bath day. The Sabbath shall begin at sunset on Satur day. To pick a year of corn growing in a neigh bor’s garden shall he deemed theft. A person.accused with trespass in the night shall lie judged guilty, unless he clear kiwlelf by oath. When it appears that an accused has con-, federates, and refuses to discover them, he may be racked. Whoever publishes a lie to the prejudice of his neighbor, shall sit in the stocks, and bq whipped with fifteen stripes. No minister shall keep a school. Whoever hiingscards or dice into this do-, minion shall pay a fine of £5. Whoever wears clothes trimmed with gold, silver, or bone luce above two shillings hv the yard, shall he presented to the grand jurors, and the selectmen shall tax the offender at £3OO estate. A debtor in prison swearing he has no estate, shall be let out, and sold to make satisfaction. Whoever sots a fire in the woods and burns a. house, shall suffer death ; and persons suspected ot this crime shall be imprisoned without the benefit ofbai). No one shall read common prayer, keep Christmas or feaint s day, make minced pies, play cards, or play on any instrument of music except the drum, trumpet and jewsharp. None but a gospel minister shall join peo ple i:i marriage, as they may dp <1 with less scandal to Christ’s church. When parents refuse children convenient marriage, the magistrate shall determine tha point. fornication shall bo punished by compel-, ling marriage as the law directs. Thf. Wat to have Good Schools. —The New Englanders have been perpetually charged with an ex cessive Jove of inouey. But a good system of educa tion is beyond doubt the most expensive of luxuries, and yet it is one In w hich these money lovers indulge most liberally. The annual appropriations, says Mr. Everct in the Boston Daily Advertiser, of the city pf Cam bridge, for the support <>f her public schools, a city of about 16,000 inhabitants, exceecds the entire annual amount of all the funds bestowed upon* Harvard tJni versity, and applicable to the business of instruction since its foundation ; that is of the college proper, and not the professional schools oonneeted with it. The annual expenditure of Boston for schools and schooling is more than half of the entire expenditure of the Commonwealth, for the support of a!! the public estab lishments and the salaries of all the public officers. These munificent appropriations are not provided for out of the income of ancient endowments ; they are met by taxation frem year to year. Thus a people, pretty roughly treated by flippant tongues, in tbeir mu nicipal democracies, voluntarily impose upon themselves the heaviest tax paid by any people in the world for purposes of education. These liberal pecuniary appropriations, however, are but the first step ; they give you school houses, school libraries, apparatus and fuel, and the salaries of teach ers themselves arc got to be had by merely paying for them. A class of skilful, accomplished and conscien tious teachers can only he gradually formed. They niust be men and women, a considerable pa ft of them, who have chosen the work of education as the business of their lives—wha give to it tlieir time, their abilities and their hearts. Such a class of teachers is not to be had by asking for it. It must form itself in tho minds of an intelligent and virtuous community, that kftows how to prize them, that holds them in high es teem, as some of its most honored public servants. There are poriions of our country, in which, if vou were to 6tand them thick with our beautiful school houses, with ail their appliances, apparatus and libra ries, you could not work the system for the want of teachers, nor get the teachers merely by advertising for them. Sir, I say it for no compliment in this place; the school-teachers in this community constitute a class inferior in respectability to no other, rendering ths most important services, by no means over-eompensr, ted, rathsr the reverse. I consider their eh-Vacier ap<* reputation M a part of the moral wealth of the com munity,— X. Y. Observer. • NO. 48