The most perfect Government would be that which, emanating directly from the People, Governs least—Costs least—Dispenses Justice to all, and confers Privileges on None.—-BEKTHAM.
VOL. I.i DR. WM. GREEN-EDITOR.
AJIE ciIGAIV D- HOG R Al',
IN THE REAR OF J. BARNES' BOOKSTORE.
COTTON AVENUE. MACON. GA.
at two dollars pbr awot*.
KJ- IN ADVANCE. -CO
Rates of Advertising, Ac,
One gquare, of 100 words, or lees, is email type, 75 cent*
fer the first insertion, and 50 cents for each sobsetfeent tner
All Adrertisements containing moreitisn 100 and leas than
200 words, will be charged as two srfnares.
To Yearly Advertisers, a liberal dedoctioo Will be made.
IO- N. B Sales of I.AND, by Administrators, Executors-
Guardians, are required, by law, to be held to the first
Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 in the fore
noon, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court-House in the Coun
. in’which the property is situated. Notice of these must
be given in a public Gazette, SIXTY DAYS, previous to the
day of sale.
Sales of PERSONAL PROPERTY, must be advertised in
the same manner, FORTY DAYS previous to the day of sale-
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate, must be pub
pdied FORTY Days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court of Oral
tary, for leave to sell LAND, must be published POUR
Sales of NEGROES, must be made at public auction, on
be first Tuesday of the month, between the legal hours o f
iale, at the place of public sales in the county where the let
testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, shall
have been granted, SIXTY DAYS notice being previously
given in one of the public gaiettes of this State, and at the door
of the Court-House, where such sales are to beheld.
Notice for leave to sell NEGROES, must be published for
FOUR MONTI IS, before any order absolute shall be made
thereon by the Court.
AH business of this nature, will receive prompt attention, a
the Office of the AMERICAN DEMOCRAT.
REMITTANCES BY MAIL.—“A Postmaster may en
.lose money in a letter to the publisher of a newspaper, to
pay the subscription of a third person, and frank the letter, if
written by himself. 1 * - Amos Kendall, P. M. G.
COMMUNICATIONS addressed to the Emxoa Poat
Air—" Star-Spangled Banner."
We gather together, brought here by the fame
Os the soldier who periled his life for our glory,
Who fearless went forth 'mid the slaughter and slain
When the field and the banner were blood-red and
Whose country w as fir*' i» his heart, oo*lin tongue,
Whose shout o’er the blast and the cannon-peal rung,
Huzza! to the conflict for freedom press on!
’Till the last (he is conquered, the last field is won !
We gather to honor the free and the brave
And our gratitude’s gifts on the altar to render,
The hero, who vowing his country to save
Arose in the strife and was freedom’s defender;
Attest it ye fields! where at Orleans ha Wed,
When the Lion’s wild roar, and the tyrants fierce
Roused the Eagle, who bore the proud trophies awray,
’Mid the shouts of the free who were victors that day!
Bring the greenest of wreaths and bind on hi* brow
That is scarred by the lightning and storm of the
And shout for the Hero, who scorning to bow, .
Braved the cannon’s grim mouth, and the muskets
And joy ! that his country at last has returned
The laurel she plucked fiom the wreath he had earned,
Defending the hearths of our patriot sires,
Ands nning the embers of liberty s fires!
Song—March ! March!
Tune— " March, march, Ettrick and Tetiotdale.
March, march Calhoun and Jackson men.
Forward my lads, and march in good order,
March, march Cass and Van Buren men,
Henry C ay’s cohoits are now on our border.
Many a banner spread, flutters above your heads,
Many a crest that is (ansous in story,
Come and make ready then, Democracy’s minute
nn n. . . . ,
Fight for your cause, and your great chieftain s
Chorus—March! march! etc.
Come from the hills, where your cattle arc grazing,
Cos ne from the glen of the buck and the roe,
Come where the beacon of freedom is blazing,
Determined to rout, and to vanquish your foe.
Gallant hearts bounding, hills are resounding
With cries that must urge ye, to march on in
Our country shall many a day, tell of the gallant
When we drove back the cohorts of Clay in dis
Cliofus—Mach! march! &c.
Come for Democracy’s foes are united,
Andfraud and corruption are league 1 todestroy yc
Come for your faith, and your honor are plighted,
To conquer the foe who now seek to betray ye.
Let no dissension then, sever your ranks my men,
True to your cause, and to law and good order,
These to maintain my men, bravely we will again
Drive back the forces of Clay in disorder,
Chorus—March! march! &c.
A Mother's Love.—We have already
announced the death, at New Orleans, of
Sumner L. Fairfield, the poet. The
New Orleans Tropic, in recording this
“He died in a strange land, far from the
green hills of his early home, and we had
almost said, without friends. But no;
there was one whose love passeth that of
all others; one, whose affection neither
poverty, misfortune or crime can alienate.
His mother was with him. She sat by
his couch through the long and silent
watches of the night; she hovered, like a
ministering angel, over his dying bed,
and counted the weary hours as they pas
sed, until the flickering lamp of his life
was extinguished forever—until the gold
en bowl was broken, and the spirit of
Iter gifted but erring son had fled to the
God who gave it.”
DEMOCRATIC SAHHER FREE TRADE; LOW DUTIES; NO DEBT; SEPARATION FROM BANKS; ECONOMY; RETRENOfeiti&NT;
AND A STRICT ADHERENCE TO THE CONSTITUTIdSf.— J. C. C.11.110U.r.
From the Young Ladies' Friend.
A THRILLING NARRATIVE.
By the Editor of Ziont Herald and Journal.
The Rev. Mr. M was a veteran
itinerant preacher of the West. He re
lated many incidents of his itinerant life
Among them was the following, which t
give in his own Words as much as possi
About four miles from N is an ex
tensive grove, well known as the scene
of several fatal duels. As I passed it one
morning on my way to my appointment
in that town, I perceived a horse and ve
hicle among the trees guarded by a soli
tary man, who appeared to be the driver.
My suspicions were immediately excited,
but I rode on. About a mile beyond I
met another carriage; containing four
persons besides the driver, and hastening
with all speed.
My fears were confirmed, and I could
scarcely doubt that another scene of
blood was to he enacted in those quiet
solitudes. What was my duty in the case
I knew too well the tenacity of those fic
titious and absurd sentiments of honor
which prevailed in that section of the
country, and which give to the duel a
character of exalted chivalry, to suppose
that my interference could be successful;
yet I thought it was my duty to rebuke
the sin if I could not prevent it; and in the
name of the Lord I would do it. I im
mediately wheeled about and returned
with the utmost apeed to the grove.
The second carriage had arrived and
was fastened to a tree. I rodfc up,attach
ed my horse near it and throwing the
driver a piece of silver, requested him to
guard him. While treading my way
into the forest, my thoughts were intense
ly agitated to know how to present my
self most successfully. The occasion
admitted no delay. I hastened on, and
soon emerged into an oval space sur
rounded on all sides by dense woods.—
At the opposite extremily stood the prin
cipals, their boots drawn over their pan
taloons, their coats, vests, and hats off,
handkerchiefs tied over their heads and
tightly belting their waists. A friend
anda surgeon wereconversing with each,
while the seconds were about midway
between them arranging the dreadful
conflict. One of the principals, the chal
lenged, appeared but twenty years of
age. His countenance was singularly
expressive of sensibility, but also of cool
determination. The other had a stout
ruffian-like bearing—a countenanceeasy,
but sinister and heartless, and he seemed
impatient to wreak his veangcance upon
I advanced immediately to the sec
onds and declared at once my character
“Gentlemen,” said I, “excuse my in
trusion I am a minister of the gospel, I
know not the merits of the quarrel, but
both my heart and office require me to
bring about a reconciliation between the
parties, if possible.”
“Sir,” replied one of them, “the utmost
has been done to effect it, without suc
cess, and this is no place to make furth
“Under any circumstances, in. any
place, gentlemen,” I replied, ’’it is ap
propriate to prevent mtifdef; and such
in the sight of God, is the deed you are
aiding. It must not be gentlemen, In
the name of the law which prohibits it
in the name of your friends, the princi
pals—in ; he name of God who looks
down upon you in this place—l beseech
you, prevent it at once; at least, wash
your hands from the blood of those n n.
Retire from the field and refuse to assist
in their mutual murder.”
My emphatic remonstrance had a mo
mentary effect. They seemed disposed
to come to terms if I could get the
consent of the principals.
I passed immediately to the oldest of
them. His countenance become more
repulsive as I approached him. It was
deeply pitted with the small pox, and
there was upon it the most cold-blooded
leer I ever saw on a human face. He
had given the challenge. I besought
him by every consideration of humanity
and morality to recall it. I referred to
the youth and inexperience of his anta
gonist—the conciliatory disposition of
the seconds—the fearful consequence to
his soul if he should fall, and the wither
ing remorse which must ever follow
him if he should kill the young man.—
He evidently thirsted for the blood of his
antagonist, but observing that his friend
and the surgeon seconded my reasoning,
he replied with undissembled reluctance,
that he gave the challenge for sufficient
reasons, and that if those reasons were
removed, he might recall it. but not oth
I passed to the other. I admonished
him of the sin he was about to perpetrate.
I referred to his probable domestic rela
tions and the allusion touched his heart.
He suddenly wiped a tear from his eyes.
“Yes sir,” said be, “there are hearts
which would break if they knew I were
here.” I referred to my conversation
with the seconds and the other principal,
and remarked that nothing was now ne
cessary to effect a reconciliation but a re
traction of the language which had of-
MACON, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17, 1844.
fendea hi - antagonist. “Sir,” replied he,
planting his foot firmly on the ground,
assuming a look Which would have been
sublime in a better cause, “Sir, t have
uttered nothing but the truth respecting
that man, and though I sink irtto ihe
grave, I will not sanction his villainous
character by ia recantation.”
I masoned with increased vehemence,
j but no appeal to his judgment or his heart
ttould shake his desperate firmness, and I
left him with his fears which I have no
doubt he would have Shared tinder rithcr
circumstance; What could Ido furth
er? I appealed again to the first princi
pal, but he spurned me with a cool smile.
1 flew to the seconds and entreated them
on any terms to adjust the matter, and
save the shedding of blood. But they
had already measured the ground, and
were ready to place the principals.—
“Gentlemen,” said I, “the blood of this
dreadful deed be upon your souls. I
have acquited myself of it.” I then pro
ceeded from the area toward my horse.
What were my emotions as I turned
away in despair? Whatthought I, must
this duel ptoceed ? Is there no expedi
ent to prevent it? In a few minutes,
one or both of these men may be in eter
nity, accused forever with blood gtlilU
hess ! Can I not pluck them as brands
from the burning? My spirit was in a
tumult of anxiety; in a moment and just
as the principals were taking theirjx>si
tions, I was again on the ground. Stan
ding on the lirife between them I exclaim
ed, “In the name of Geld I adjure you to
stop this murderous Work. It must not,
it cannot proceed.”
“Knock him down,” cried the eldest
duelist, with a fearful imprecation.”
“Sir,” exclaimed the younger, “I ap
preciate your motive, hut I demand of
you to interfere ho more with out ar
The seconds seized me by the arms,
and compelled me to retire. But I warn
ed them at every step. Never before did
I feel so deeply the value and hazard df
the humansoul. My remarks were with
out effect, except on one of the friends of
the younger principal. “This is a hor
rible place,” said he, “I cannot endure it,
and he turned with me from the scene.
“Now then for it,” cried one of the
seconds, as they returned, “Take your
places.” shuddering I hastened my pabe
to escape the result.
“One —two”—and the next sound was
lost in the explosion of the pistols !!—-
“O, God !” shrieked a voice of agony !
I turned round. The younger principal
with his hand to his face, shrieked again,
quivered and fell to the ground ! I rush
ed to him. With one hand he clung to
the earth, the fingers penetrating the sod,
while with the other he grasped his left
jaw, which was shattered with a horrid
wound. I turned with faintness from
the sight The charge had passed thro’
the left side of the mouth, crossing the
teeth, severing the jugular and passing
out at the back part of the head, laying
open, entirely, one side of the face and
neck. In this ghastly wound, amid
blood and shatteied teeth, had he fixed
his grasp with a tenacity which could
not be moved. Bleeding profusely, and
convulsive with agony, he lay for sever
al minutes, the most frightful spectacle I
had ever witnessed. The countenances
of the spectators expressed a conscious
relief when it was announced by the
surgeon flint death had ended the scene.
Meanwhile the murderer and his party
had left the ground,
One of the company wasdispatchedon
my horse to communicate the dreadful
news to the family. The young man
was cleansed from this blood, and borne
immediately to his carriage. I accom
panied it. It stdpped before a small but
elegant house. The driver rail to the
door and rapped. An elderly lady open
ed it, with frantic agitation, at the instant
when we were lifting the ghastly remains
from the carriage- She gazed for a mo
ment, as if thunderstruck, and fell faint
ing in the doorway. A servant removed
her into the parlor, and, as we passed
With the corpse into a rear room, 1 ob
served her extended on a sofa, as pale as
her hapless son.
We placed the corpse otl the table, with
the stiffened hand still grasping the
wound, when a young lady neatly at
tired in white, and With a face delicately
beautiful, rushed franticly into the room
and threw her arms around it weeping
ed with an agony of feeling, “My brother!
my dear, dear brother ? Can it be—O!
can it be ?”
The attendants tore her away. I shall
never forget the look of utter wretched
ness she wore as they led her away—her
eyes dissolved in tears, and her bosom
stained with her brother’s blood.
The unfortunate young man was of
New England origin. He had settled
in the town of N , where his busi
ness had prospered so well, that he invit
ed his inotherand his sister to reside with
him. His home endeared by gentleness
and love, and every temporal coinlort,
was a scene of unalloyed happiness;
but in an evil hour be yielded to a local
and absurd prejudice—a sentiment of
honor falsely so called, which his educa
tion should have taught him to despise.
He was less excusable than his malicious
murderer, for he had more light and bet
ter sentiments* This one step ruined
him and his hapny family, lie was in
terred the next day with the regrets of
the whole community.
His poor mother never left the house
till she was carried to her grave, to bri
laid by the side of her son. She died af
ter a delirious fever of two weeks, dura
tion, throughout which she ceased not to
implore the attendants, with tears, to pre
serve her hapless son from the hands of
assassins, whof she imagined kept him
concealed for their murderous purpose.
His sister still but poor and broken
hearted. Her beauty and energies have
been wasted by sorrow, ar.d she is de
pendent on others for daily bread.
I have heard some uncertain reports of
his antagonist, the most probable of which
is, that he died three years after of the
yellow fever at New Orleans, raging with
the horrors of remorse. Such was the
local estimation of this bloody deed, that
scarcely an effort was made to bring him
to justlee. Alas,[for theinfluence of fash
ionable opihion ! It can silence by its
dictates the laws of man and of God, and
exalt murder to the glory of chivalry !
When we consider how many hearts
of mothers, sisters, and wives, have been
made to bleed by this cruel and deadly
custom, shall we not invoke the influ
ence of woman to abolish it? It rests
upon an incidental state of public opin
ion, a fictitious sentiment of honor.—
Whose influence is more effectual in cor
recting or promoting such sentiments
than womati’s 1 Human laws have fail
ed to correct it, but her influence can do
it. Let hei, then, disdain the duelist as
stained with blood. Let her repel him
from her society as one who has wrongly
escaped the gallows. Let her exert all
the benign influence of her virtues and
her charms to bring into disgrace the
murderous setttiment which tolerates
and it cannot be long before the distinc
tion between the duelist and the assassin
Original Anecdote. —Not many ydars
ago a man appeared, whether as plaintiff,
defendent, or witness, tradition does not
inform us. Be this as it may, the fol
lowing dialogue ensued :
Cfolirh—What is yoiir name, sir?
Answer. —My name is Knott Martin,
C. —Well, what is it?
A. —lt is Knott Martin.
(j. —“Knott Martin,” again 1 \Ve don’t
ask you what your name is ndt; bttt wHat
it is. No contempt of Court, sir.
A,—lt yoitf honor will give me leave,
I’ll spell rliy name.
C. —Well spell it.
A. —K n o double t, Knott; rrl a r,
mar, t i n, tin, Martin—Kriott Martin.
C. —O, very well, Mr. Martin, we see
through it now; but it is one of the most
knotty cases wc hctVc had before us fdr
Tbc Furlough—An Irish Anecdote.
In the autumn of 1825, some private
affairs called me into the sister kingdom;
as I did not travel like Polyphemus, with
my eyes out, I gathered a few samples of
Irish character, amongst which was the
I was standing one morning at the
Window of “ mine inn,” when my atten
tion was attracted by a scene that took
place beneath. The Belfast coach was
standing at the door, and on the roof, in
front sat a solitary passenger, a fine
young fellow in the uniform of the Con
naught Rangers. Below, by the front
wheel, stood an old woman, seemingly
his mother, a young man, and a young
woman, sister or sweetheart; and they
were all earnestly entreating the young
soldier to descend from his seat On the
“ Come down wid ye Thady”—the
speaker was the old woman—“come
down to your ould mother; sure it’s fidg
ye they will, and strip the bones off the
flesh 1 give ye. Come down, Thady,
“It’s honor, triothef,” was the short re
ply of the soldier; and with clenched
hands and set teeth he took a stiffer pos
ture on the coach.
“ Thady, come down—come down, ye
fool of the worlds—come along down wid
ye !” The tone of the present appeal
was more impatient and peremptory than
the last, and the answer was more
promptly and sternly pronounced: “It’s
honor, brother!” and the body of the
speaker rose more rigidly than ever on
“O Thady, come down ! sure it’s me,
yonr own Kathleen that bids ye! Come
down, or ye’ll break the heart of me,
Thady jewel; come down then!” tlie
poor girl wrung her hands as she said it
and cast a look up that had a visible ef
fect on the museles of the soldier’s coun
tenance. There was more tenderness in
his tone, but it conveyed the same reso
lution as before.
“It’s honor, honor bright Kathleen!
and as if to defend himself from another
glance, he fixed his look steadily in froirt,
whilst the entreaties burst from ail three
in chorus with the same answer.
“Come down, Thudy, honey ! Thaiy,
ye fool,- come down ! O Thady come
down to me.”
“It’s honor, mothry! honor, brother!
honor bright, iny own Kathleen !”
Although the poor fellow was a pri
vate, this appeal was so public that 1 did
not hesitate to go down and inquire into
the particulars of the distre>s. It appear
ed that he had been home on furlough,
to visit his family, and having exceeded,
as he thought, the term of his leave, he
was going to join his regiment, and to
undergo the penalty of his neglect. I
asked him when the furlough expired.
“The first of Marais your honor
bad luck to it of all the black days in this
world—and here it is, come suddenly on
me like n shot.”
“The first of March ! why my good
fellow yon have a day to spare then—
the first of March will not be here till to
morrow. It is leap year, and February
has 29 days.”
The soldier was thunderstruck.—
“ Twenty-nine days, is it ?—you’re sar
tin of that same! Oh, mother, mother!
the deuce fly away wid your old alma
nac—a base cratur of a book, to be de
ceiven one, afthtir living so long in the
family of us!”
His first impulse was to cut a caper on
the roof of the coach, and throw Up his
cap with a loud hurrah! His second
was to throw himself'into the arms of his
Kathleen; and the third was to wring
my hand off in acknowledgment.
“ It’s a happy man I am; ybtir honor,
for my word’s saved, and all by your
honor’s manes. Long life tb your hon
or, for the same! May ye live a long
hundred—and lape years every one of
Editors. —No class of men should be
more particular what they say than edi
tors. If ministers advance an errone
ous idea and given wrong impressions,
it is confined within the walls of the
church; but if an editor propagates in
correct sentiments, they fly on the wings
of the wind, through the length and
breadth of the land and live forever.—
llow important then, that every thought
in a public journal should be chaste—
every sentiment pure, and every para
graph, stribtly true; so that the influence
exerted may have a tendency to do good,
and advance sound moralitj and unde
filed religion.— Tribune.
*‘J#r naiuc is lltiyues.”
There are thousands of people in this
country, who make use bt the common
expression “My names is Haynes,” when
they are abdut leaving a place or party
Suddenly, yet few know from whence
the expression is derived. A more com
mon saying, or One in mrire general rise,
has never beetl got tip. We heat it in
Blaine and in Georgia, in Maryland and
in Arkansas; it is in the mouths tis the
old and the young, the grave and the gay
—in short, “My name Is Hliirifes” cttjbys
a popularity which no other slarig or cant
phaiasc has ever obtained. “I’m o p-h,”
“I must mizzle,” “I must make myself
scarce,” are frequently used, but the ex
pression which heads this article, lcdvfes
them all out of sight. Having said this
much of the reputation of the pharase, be
it Our iifext care to give its origin.
Some thirty-five years since, a gentle
man named Haines, was travelling on
horse-back in the vicinity of Ml 1 . Jeffer
son’s residence in Virginia. Party spirit
was running extfemely high itl those
days. Mr. Jefferson was President, and
Haines was a rank federalist, and, as a
matter of course, a bitter opponent to the
then existing administration and its head.
He was not acquainted with that gentle
man, also travelling on horso back, his
party zeal soon let him into a conversa
tion upon theall-absorbing topic. In the
course of conversation, Haines took par
ticular pains to abtlse Mr. Jefferson, cal
led him all sorts of hard names, run down
every measure of his administration,
spoke of the non-intercourse and embar
go acts of his as most outrageous arid
rtiirtous, ridiculed his gun-boat system
as preposterous and nonsensical, oppos
ed his purchase of Louisiana as a wild
scheme—in short, took up every leading
feature of the day, descanted upon them
and their originator with the greatest bit
terness. Mr. Jefferson all the while,
said but littfej There was no such thing
as getting away from his partltular
friend, and he did not exactly feel at
liberty to combat his arguments.
They finally arrived in front of Mr.
Jefferson’s residence, Haines, ol course,
not acquainted with the fact. Notwith
standing he had been vilified and abused
“like a pickpocket,” to use an old say-;
ing, Mr. Jefferson still, with true Virgin
ia hospitality and politeness, invited his
travelling companion to alight aud par
take of some refreshment. Haines was
about getting from his horse, when it
came into Ins head that he 'should ask
his companion’s name.
“Jefferson,” saul the President, bland
“The d—l ! What, Thomas Jeffer
“Yes, sir, Thomas Jefferson.”
“President Thomas Jefferson?” cofttin
ed the astonished federalist.
“The same,” rejoined Mr. Jefferson.
“Well my name is Hai>ts !” ami
putting spurs to his horse, he was out ot
hearing instantly- This, we have been
informed, was the origin of the phrase.
W AVer.—There is nothing more
beautiftil than water. Look at it when
you will, iii arty of its thousand forms,
dripping from the moss of the spring, or
IfelplHg iri the thunder of the cataract, it
has always the same wonderful, surpass
ing beauty. Clear transparency, tho
grace of its possible motion, iu tile bril
liant sheen of form and its majestic march
in the flood, are matched unitedly by no
other element. Who has not blessed it
unawares ? If objects that meet the eye
have any effect upon our happiness, wa
ter is the first of human blessings. It is
the gladdest thing tinder heaven. The
inspired writers use it constantly as an
image for gladness, and ‘crystal waters’
is the beautiful type of an Apocalypse for
the joy of New Jerusalem. I bless God
for its daily Usefulness; but it is because
it is an every day blessing that its splen
dor is unnoticed, its value unappreciated
Take a Child to it, and he claps his hands
with delight; present it to any one m a
new form and his senses are bewildered.
The man of warm imagination wito looks
for the first time on Niagara, feels an im
pulse to leap in, which is almost irresfen
LoiSk oil the Bright Side. —There is
philosophy here. Always look on the
bright side.—No matter how dark your
path may be—uomatter how many briars
obstruct your way—look steadily on the
bright side. Happy they whose hearts
are sd constructed that all is bright be
fore them. The bitter is made sweet—
the dark, light; sorrow is turned into joy
—grief into pleasure—and on every side
(he good and the beautiful, the bright
and the glorious, triumph over sin and
deformity, fear and doubt, and the very
heavens that give blackness to the sus
picious and moping, are hung in invest
ments of gjory and grandeur so beauti
ful that the heart cannot contemplate
them without bursting with fulness of
joy.— Portland Tribune.
The young man’s curse.
I sgw him first at the social party. Ho
took but a single glsss of wine, and that
in compliance with the request of a fair
young lady with whom he conversed.—-
I saw him next when he supposed he
was unseen, take a glass -to satisfy the
slight desire formed by his sordid indul
gence. lie thought there was no dan
ger. I saw him again with those of his
dtvrt age meeting at night to spend a
short time in cbn vivial pleasure; he con
sidered it only iunbcertt amusement. I
met him next late in the evening; in the
Street Unable to reach Hdtne; I assisted
him thither; lie Iboked ashamed when
we next met. I next reeling iu
the street, a confused stare Was on his
countenance, ancl words of blasphemy
were bn his tdngue; Shnmb was gone !
The Best is Left. —I am fallen [cried
Jeremy Taylor] into the hands of publi
cans and seijucstratars; and they have ta
ken dll fl'oni me; What now ! Let me
look about itic! They have left me sun
and moon, fire and water, and many
irieuds tb pity ine, and some to relive me;
and I ban still discourse; and unless T
they have not taken away my cheerful
spirits, and my merry countenance, and
a good conscience; they have still left me
the providence of God and the promises
of the gospel, arid my religion, and my
hopes of heaven, and my charity to them
too. And still 1 sleep and digest, era
eat and drink; I read and meditate; 1 can
walk in my neighbor’s pleasant fields and
see the varities of natural beauties and
delight in all which God delights, that is,
in the virtue and wisdom of the whole
creation, and God himself.
A printer has lately been married in
Indiana, and the guests kissed the bride!
It is said that an old batchelor who had
never approached so near one of the fair
sc* before, was so bewildered, enchanted,
and delighted by the salute, that he ran
off and proposed to a young widow be
fore the wedding party hud broken up.
A Ncttidnal Monument at Washing
ton.—A bill is now before Congress,
which appropriates about $50,000 for a
national monument at Washington, on a
truly beautiful plan. This measure has
been introduced to the attention of the
House of Representatives, by the Hon.
Zadock Pratt, of New York. Thq
Washington Monument Society have
now in their possession $48,000; and
Mr. Pratt’s bill calls for an appropriation
of a sum which, in connection with the
above, it is thought will tie sufficient to
complete the work. The building or
monument, will embrace three stories.—
The crypt or basement is intended to
contain the statue of W ashington; with
n idles for the busts of the Presidents of
the United States The secoud story to
contain niches lor statues of the illustri
ous men of the country; and the third to
bea saloon or gallery lor paintings of his
torical or natiuial subjects. The monu
ment is to be feet high, and of the
same dimension* the rottmda of the
capitol, whidi n i&o feet in diameter
iiie uhoie-ean completed m eigh
teen months, for SIOO,OOO. The ma
terial to be of marble.—Plebeian.