The federal union. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1830-1861, May 01, 1838, Image 1

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Newspaper Page Textthe federal, ejyiojv BV Park & Rogers, 18 PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY AT THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. AH ADVERTISEMENTS puMislicd at the usual rateK. jt r £ »rh CitaT'or hy tli- Clerks of the Courts of Ordinary that LLilicatKir. has l.-rn ma.le for lottcrs of Adiulnoitratien, must be i’blishnl I Hllfl V DATs At least. 1 Nntire bv Executors and Administrators for nehtors andCredl- «,r» to rend'rill their aerounts. musr he published SIX WEEKS. sales ef Nesroes by Kvccutors and Administrators must be ad vertised SIXTY DA YS before the day of sale. Sales 01'personal property (except neeroe*) or testate and intes- , M| elates by r.aecutnrs and Administrators, must be advertised fOItTY DAYS. Aii plirations bv Executors. Administrators and Guanliani to the .'ourt of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must he published FOUR "Sunns by Executors and Administrators for Leltf - mlssory. must 'to published SIX MONTHS. ami'iVvtlons for Foreclosure of M.rteaees on real estate must ba advertised ore.e a month for FOUR MONTHS. Sales of Real Estate by Executors. Administrators and Guardi ‘ mast he published SIJ'TY DAYS before the day of sale — ■rt e-e sales must he made at the court house door between the taut' el ttr.l " the moraine ard four in the afternoon. No sale fr in day to day Is valid, unless so expressed in the advertisement, "orders of the Court of Ordinary, (accompanied with a catpyof the bond eragreement! to make titles to land, must be advertised THREE MONTHS at least. She rills' dales under executions regularly granted by the courts, m ,’,<t be advertised THIRTY DAYS—under morgage executions SIXTY DAYS—.stales of Perishable Property under order of Court, • ' ( p e advertised, generally, TEN PAYS before the day of sale. All orders for Advertisements will he punctually attended to. • • All Letters directed to M is Office, or the Editors,must be post paid, to entitle them 'o attention. "federal iNION JOB OFFICE. ww/E have recently made large additions to our JOB » w OFFICE,and arc now prepared 10 execute wilh nearness and despatch, ALL KINDS OF JPlain, Ornamentnl anti Fancy 5?Ss2SS“S2£r<Bi SUCH AS •BOOKS, * CIRCULARS, FYMPIILETS, ¥ HAND BILLS, CAROS, H6 LABELS, xvc. Ac. Arc. We have new on baud a large 3n.l extensive assortment of Used by the Jifi‘.'f pnt Legal OITioors of litis State, of the lno st approved forms. Persons wishing DEEDS or .'BANKS of any kind, r, n be supplied by i lie Keani, Q-tire, or single ropy, by Calling at the Vr.urttiL Union Office, in the Upper Tenement of the brick building, below Huson’s Tavern, on Greene- street, formerly occupied by the Darirn Bank. TANK At ROGERS. ffebex&l ffllmoH. 1 VOL. MILLEDGEVILLE, (Gl«) Mil L L&M3. MO. 4&. ■ ■ W I I L< sjrr • I • , , , V RAill# fUtt Tnruulnv in I W illbesold.at Public Auction,on tbefirst tv if,, f J lP ? ex \‘, n 1,6 ,owa of Warkville, Lee coun- raeiu of^nd''* y “° J “ P rivate#ale - the followingsellle- When I talked to my wife, she kepi on her knitting and only said, “I always twld you, you was a fool for giving up your business.” If I .1 °" e8 ^ l , 1 1 len ? er * t in Baker county, containing 1750 acres of I ** a ^ a,l y rea * Culamnby, I might have been the Itest Lhickasahatchce Lands - " "* -‘ ■ ' ■ ■ der cultivation, in gootl repai constating of lots Nos 96, all adjoining, in ll, e lliir.l L.... Jum , Wiggins, near the premises, willsbow them to any person Tbs eiiensiverireu1a*ion of our paper in Georgiaand Ala- bsntn, and ill oilier Slates, offers lo our patrons and others, having advertisements, an opportunity of giving general pub- icily lo I heir not ices, &e. Bacon! Bacon!! J UST RECEIVED.—20 OOO pounds prime liel- limore Middling Huron, and for sale hv April I", 43-If. NICHOLS & DEMING. P RI XCE’S X E1V DIGEST-—For sale fltfhe Book store of C. A. ELLS, where bargains may he looked lar in all kinds of Books &c. April 17, 43—2f. GLOBE HOTEL. would be attacked by apoplexy; but instead of taking fils he took to politics,—and I could soon count his ribs. It was 100 bad—with all my whims and notions I could not get enough to think about. I could not take mv favorite walk without having the east wind blow in mv lace. Folks came to me for my money, and I let ein have it, because I did not know what to do with it myself—there was real satisfaction in beingof use to somebody. How I did watch for.my bills to become due! Many a time I’ve had breakfast an hour earlier than common, and set out on a brisk trot to pay a mechanic, who lived ten rods from my door. “But how did your money holdout, neighbor Bond.'” said Jones. “I desire to be thankful ifnghbor Jones, the barrel soon run low at the Bung hole. I had to go to work again—and c3il District Lra. Nns 295, 2% i now I am a happv man, sir. My children all K‘‘- 1 beh » w « for 1 p'«y rich long en wishing to purchase. One settlement of 606 acres, in ihe third District of Lee county, consisting oflots Nos. 107, 108 and 109 Lots Nos. 278 and 279, in the fourth Dtsliicl,’ Randolph, containing 405 acres, v “. . 87 and 106r “ “ 11th “ » con- laining 405 acres, . . 332 and 270, “ u 4lh 11 ** con taining 405 acres, ... * 238 and 224, “ “ 4th “ Early, con taining 500 acres, <• T ‘«-5,inthe 3il District l«e, containing 202 1-2 acres, * , | n ’he 3d District Lee, containing 2>'2 1-2 anes, 186, in lhe 3d District Raker, containing 250 acres, 60 improved, “ “ 262 in ihe 3d District Baker, containing 250 acres, 30improved.—Mr. James L. Ross, living in ihe 4lh district ot Randolph, will show any of the Lands in Lee and Ran dolph. 1 he above Lands have all been carefully selected, and are allot the first quality, and will he sold on a lone credit ROBERT COLEMAN, GEO. B. WARD LAW. Also,one other settlement, containing 1200 Acres, being lots Niis. 113, 144, 145, in the 3d District L " ' and 297, in ihe 4ih ilistrir choice Lands, conlainiug between 75 and JOO acres im proved Lin . and a first rate Mill Seat, to he suld on another account and on the same terms. . GEO. B. WARDLAW. April 17, 43-4t. enough T DOK AT THIS.-Tho undersigned offers for " rale one hundred shares of slock in the Monroe Rail Road Ranh, for which J will rake one hundred ami twenty five dollars ner sji^ r( > eftsll. I also offer for .-at • two thirds ofthe McDonoui'h Factory, situated two and a half miles mirth west of McDonough, in complete operation. 1 will take a good price for the Facfory, soys to allow the purcha ser a chance for to make agood interest on ihe money in vested. Terms made known by applying to the subscriber in McDonough, Georgia. 43—4tT JOHN DAILEY Jdn. A MASON AND CARPENTER TO HIKE OFT, E NQUIRE of R. j. Nichols, MilUrJgevillc, or Fran cis Tufts, Blountsville, Jones counly. April 3,1838. 3t-ll MISCELLANEOUS. «| Its. N« J* GODWIN respectfully iufor s her If l friends and the ptihlii, thai she will continue to keep open this establishment during ihe present year, for ihe ac commodation of BOARDERS and TRANSIENT persons; every effort will he made to render comfortable all such as may pairon ze the house—and to give general aalisfactian. Milledgeville, January 1, 1838.-28 FOR MLE. T HAT benulifnl, healthy, and commodious lot, on which ihe subscriber now resides, at Midway, two miles from Milledgeville, and a half mile from the site of Ogle thorpe University. It contains 'en acres, and lias on it a large,convenient, arid i leasant IMYRLLINR HOUSE, with out houses, a well ofexellent water, and a spring be sides many other advantages. For terms apply lo K. K. Hines, Eeq. October 9th, 1937-16-tf JOHN A. CUTHRERT. JXTJJSf. M&&9A Q’ R SJPSJFe MILLINER AND MANTUA MAKER, RESPECTFULLY in- forms the I Julios of Mil- lejgpvilli* and its vicinity, iliaf she ha* permanently lornlpil hcrspll in Mila* LtDOEVlLIji:. ox Hancock-*!rect, (mnrlv oppopin* ihe coiirt-nouKp,) where slit* intends carry ing on ihe above business in ail US various branches, and hopes hv her assidiiu.v and attention, lo merit a liberal share of patronage She has now on hand a beautiful assortment of BO.V- NETN, trim mines, Ac. of ihe lafesl fashions. Ladies wishing ariirles in her line wil ! please favor her with a rail. Alt orders executed with neatness, promptness anti des- ■ pitch. March 13, 1838. 6t-38 SAD DEER V> Saddlery Hardware, Harness, Trunks, Whips, \c. SMITH & WRIGHT R ESPECTFULLY inform their old patrons and the public generally, ihm they now have on hand at their old establishment, al A /. it -1R A . Aeic Jersey, n splendid nijorimont of SADDLERY, and all other articles in thst line, to which they would colicii the attention of such s* mav want, and who feel disposed to lavor them with their custom, being confident that they can please in quality and style better than they have heretofore been enabled to do. Newark, Nevv Jersey, February 17, 1839. 2Gt-3r PUBLIC SALE. T HE subscriber w ill offer at public sale on ihe premises onthe 7th day of MAY next, his Valuable PLAN TATION on Yellow River, in Gwinnett county, eon- taiuing Four Hundred Acres of first quality op Land, wilh Eighty acres of cleared land, in a state of high cultivation. Tne premises lie on the public road leading from Lawrence- ville to Decatur, by the wav of the Stone Mountain. Terms made known on the day of sale Feb. 13, 1839. 38-ids ALONZO A. CADY. FIFTY DOLLARS REWARD. L EFT MY HOUSE on the 25th instant, a negro man hy the name of BOB, and his wife CEEIA. Rob is uiiuitt sixtv years of age, spare made and yellow complex: »n, spe.iks gravely, and is quite intelligent. Celia i* about filtv years of age, heavily made and dark com plexion The said lifts roes were purchased by me front Mr. Maurice M rrtin of Baldwin county, where they have some children, ami inav possibly aim to get there. I hey also formerly nelong.il to John Dismnke, » ho then lived in Monroe comity. They are well acquainted in that county, and I think have a son there. I think Jl r - Dismnke now Kvesin Merriweiher or Talbot Counly, and possibly owns some of their children. I will give ihe above reward lor tksir delivery to in* near Whitesville, Harris county. Go., of twenty.five dollars for lle-ir confinement in any jail, so thst I gctihem Any information concerning ih m will be tkankluliy received. (1111.11 FERRY . Whitesville, Ga. March 29 42—4tw t m tl WESTERN BANK OF GEORGIA, j Lome. 29/A March, S YFIIEKEAS. infiirinaiioii Ims been receiveu from It rredilable soiim*, lhal ihe several Banks in ihe Cilies of Angusia and Macon, are at this time refusing lo re- »»ive ihe Bills of this Bank in payment of the debts due their Institutions, die tl therefote Resolved by the President and Board of Di rectors of the Western Hank of Geoboia, That altho’ "’•diem the course pursued by Ihose insiiiiilions uncalled ■of. cither front ihe oirciimsianccs of the Bank or thefornt- •f intercourse maintained Ireiween our respective Inslilu- jj»n«, yet ibis Bank will continue to receive ihe Bills of ihe Banks of those Cirir-s, in payment of its dues, and that this institution invite monthly setti.ements with those In- •tiluuuns, anil propose to balance accounts with CiPEClE, or •ills os New Y ork, at ihe customary premium. Resolved, That to secure the confidence oi the commnni- ,n the circulating medium of the country, and to lacili- jats exchanges and intercourse between the Banks of this “•*(*, it is necessary that the Banks of this Male resume •pecie payments at as early n day as practicable, and that Thursday, the 25lh day of October next, be proposed for *>»« purpose. WILLIAM HARDIN. President. JAMES LIDDELL, 1 JOHN T. STORY, > Directors. ROBERT WARE, I Uttmt.] Z. B. IIARGROVE, Cashier. 42—21. L AWS AND JOURNALS.—On Saturday the 28th of this instant, contracts will he lei to the low- •« bidder, at the State House, lor disliibuting among the ••vcral counties of this Stale, the Laws and Journals ofthe ««l General Assembly. They will he delivered to < ontrac- •*f*on the Salurdav following, (5th May.) BENJAMIN T. BETHUNE, S. E. D. Milledgeville. l~th April, 43—2l T HE UNION PARTY of Jasper County, are requested ai d 10 mn, 't al the Court House in Monticello, on W BD- IsEXDAY, the 25th insl. (court week) for the purpose of •cwcting Delegates lo aileud the Congressional Convcn- hon to he held in Milledgeville, in May next. SEVERAL OF THE PARTY. _ UNION MEETING. The Union Partv of Wilkinson County are requested to *•**! »l Irwirttun. on Saturday the 28ili insi., lor the pur- P**® of appointing delegates to the Convention in Milledge- Y| h*, on the first Monday in May next. TWotice.- i* County will hereafter be published in the umon, January 13, 1838. DANIEL NlilVNAN SMITH, sheriff, rhe Sheriff's Saier nf JQK.BH e Federal —The Sheriffs' Sales of COWETA ix? County, will hereafter be published in the Fedora Fobrusry 22, 1834. THOMAS HUGHEY, sheriff From the Massachusetts Journal. PHILOSOPHY AND INDEPENDENCE. “You can’l make me believe that folks who have their thousand dollars a year, an’t any happier than I am,” said farmer Jones to his neighbor Bund, “Well then 1 shan’t try,” said neighbor Bond, very quietly knocking the ashes out of his pipe, avid wiping his mouth for a draught of cider; “If ?nv man likes to think Pro. vidence has dealt over hard with him, he may have the comfort of it, for nil me.” “There is no gelling round you, neighbor build;” said 1*3 >'• nter Jones: “but tell me now, honestly, shuuiu’.‘!l you be willing to leave oil’ working, and take fifty thousand dollars, if it were offered lo you?” “Very like 1 might,—lor as Aunt Beity, says, “there is a great deal of human nature in man;” hut I hope the temptation won’t come in mv way, —for 1 shoiild’ut he as happv a man as I am now.” “\ou would’nt be obliged to work then, neighbor.” “No, mid if I was not obliged to work I should’nt work; and then l ; m sure 1 should’nt be contented. I have had a bit of ex perience this way, Mr. Jones; though I never was over and ultove rich, I’ll tell you mv expe rience. Dick Brown and I (you know rich Dick Brown) were hoys together—a couple of us poor and as merry devils as ever capered to “Yankee Doodle.” Dick and I never had hut one fight, though we were always together, and Dial Aunt Betty lias often mid me, was all owing to the sinful upliflings of my nature. A sick gent email came to out house oil horse, hack, and fatlier told one of us to go to the tav ern and huy some g n for him. The tavern was three quarters of a milti off, ihe road lay through a pokerish hit of wood, and it was beginning to he dark. M v brother jim had had a parcel of'raw-head nnd hloody-bonc’ stories told him, and liedid’nt altogether like the notion of going. You must know, neighbor Jones, that, man and boy, J have alvvavs been over and above willing to bn brave by proxy, as they call it. Sol says to Jim, looking as fierce asa buliet all the time, “Now, Jim, an’t you a- shumed of yourself to he scared?’ I had just as lief go through that ’ere wood, as to go to bed.” My father laughed and looked soit of mischiev ous, 1 thought. “Well, Will, suppose you go, then,” said he. He might just as well have shot me dead as to have said them words—But thinks 1 lo myself “Jim, ’ill crow, and Dick ’ill laugh, —so 1 may as well stand to my word.” It was but a boy’s motive, neighbor Jones; but if you will show me a man who was never governed by just such a motive, m the way of politics, bu- sine s, and such like, I will tell you that man is one in five hundred. Well, off I scampered barefoot, over the hard, frosty ground, seeing a witch on every black stump, and a ghost an every bush—I bou.h ti e gin, and was hack to father’s tis quick as a put mt shuttle. I guess the gentleman knew how the case stood,—lor he took out a four-pence and gave it to me with a smile. My quarrel with Dick Brown was about this four-pence. 1 tell you money always has its evils. The first money lever got made me in solent. 1 showed Dick my four-pence, and call ed him a poor rugmutliun. Dick knocked me down; and we didn’t speak for a fortnight. We made up afterwards; an Dick often went with me to look at the silver bit 1 had locked up in my little box. Dick and l went to prent'ce afterwards—he to a shop, keeper, and 1 to a blacksmith. We buth got up in the world, and began to look upon a four pen pv hit as a very small concern. Dick turned out the most prosperous ofthe two. He’s got his coURtrv sl7!1 a |,d his carriage, and has sent ten bovs to co.'Jege; t*U I’d bet a beaver hat he’d be glad to go back iC H.e tin?“ when lie knocked me down about tlie four-pe.? ce * )os ^ ol in ' to a dreadful uneasy way—thinn* be has " ,)l - a thousand complaints that never come nett." bim, | and that his sons are going lo bring him to the • alms house. to spoil ’em. My oldest son goes a representa tive frtnB our town; andmv daughters areall well married. Som«!imes, iijey tell me they wish 1 would’nt work so hard; but I sav to ’em “I’ve learned wisdom by experience—let them be idle that like it. Here I’ll dig, till you have to dig a a new home for me.” “But, neighbor Bond,” said Jones, “It makes me mad to see them ruf- fled-shirt-gentrv there in Boston with their white wrisbands over their hands, walking by the market, so stately like, as if they was afraid mv breath would spoil their new broadcloth—Don’t it rnise your old Adam, neighbor Bond?” “Not a bit, man—not a bit. I often look over my shoulder at them, and laugh, as I say to myself. “When a man has nothing to do, it must be a great comlort to him to think he is of so much consequence.” ‘‘Well, neighboi Bond, you are a happy man. For my part, I don’t like to be lorded over! H aven help thee, man! we lord it over them! 1 should like to know what mea sure they can carry, if the honest yeomanry of the country have a mind to vote against them! The honest hardworking men, who take a news, paper home, ant! read it with candid minds in the bosoms of industrious families—these are the men to save the nation, when the nation is in danger. 1 am proud of my station, sir; and I’ll try to use my power well. There are good folks a- mong the rich, as well as the poor. It makes a man neither butter nor worse to be a gentle man provided lie has a taste for it. If the gen- tiy, as you call ’em, vote for what is fair, I’ll vote ;yiih theft?; and if they want to vote for any thin" that wiii oppress the people, 1 guess they’ll fin'd'they an’t of as mifch consequence ns they think they are. Let the upstariS among ’em etl joy their fine clothes, as little Sammy does iiii rattle; and if they have a mind to take the trou ble, let them tell forty lies a week to hide that their great-grandfather made leather breeches for a living. What do 1 c-;re? Can’t 1 know that I am the happiest of the two? An’t las free? And have’nt 1 as much weight in the go vernment, as they have?” “You talk like a book, Mr. Bond; but afier all, 1 don’t like to see their carriage? and footmen rolling by my old hav-cart.” “Very like, very like, neighbor Jones; for as Aunt Betty says, there is a great deal of human nature in man!” EXAMPLE FOR WIVES. Read the following letter, and learn how inucii better it is to he at home than at the O- pera and the Masquerade. See what are your duties, and what makes you lovely and beloved. Bead—and then rush into the giddy crowd of re- tellers if you can. The extract is from the work of Dr. Alcott.— Wash. Chron. “The case to which 1 refer, is that of Sir James McIntosh, whose fame as a jurist, a states man, and a writer, is well known, not only in Euione and America, but in India; and whose efforts in the cause of science and humanity, have rarely been equalled. Few men have done more through the progress of a long life, than he; and few have, at any rate, been more dis tinguished for extensive learning, large views, and liberal principles, in law, politics, and phi- losophy; hut especially in his favorite depart men' ofthe law. ft was he of whom Sir Wal- ter Scott said, on a ceitain occasion, that he made “the most biilliant speech ever made, at bar or in foium.” Yet this great man. if we may believe Lis own story, owed no small share of Lis grea'ness lo the assistance and influence of his wife. Of this the following extract from a letter of his to a friend, describing her charac ter, after Iter decease, will'most abundantly prove. The last clause includes, it will be seen, a passing tribute to another person—pro bably his mother, which doubles the value of the extract 1 have made, in exhibiting the in- fl tence of two females in the formation ofeita- racter, instead of but one. ‘“Allow me in justice to her memory, to tell what she was and what I owed her. I was guided in my choice only hy the blind affection of my youth- 1 found an intelligent companion, and a lender friend, a prudent monitress, the mo->t faithful of wives, and a mother as ten der ns ever children had the misfortune to lose. 1 met a woman who by, the management of my weakness, gradually corrected the most perni cious of them. She became prudent from af fection; and though of the most generous na- ture, she was taught frugality and economy by Iter love for me. “‘During the most critical period of my life, she preserved order in my affairs, from the care of which she relieved me. She gently reclaim ed me from dissipation; she propped my weak and irresolute nature; she urged my indolence to «11 the exertions that have been useful orcredit- ■hle to .'Be, and she was perpetually at hand to admon.^ m J’ .*? ce ^l ossncss ar| d improvidence.— MY MOTHER’S GRAVE. “I had a mother once like you. Who o’er my pillow hung, Kissed from my cheek the bi iny dew, And taught my faultering tongue But then there came a fearful day, 1 sought my mother's bed, Till harsh hands lore me thence away, And told me she was dead." It was thirteen years since my mother’s death, when tifier a long absence from my native vil lage, I stood besi .es the sacred mound, beneath which I had seen her buried. Since that mourn ful period, great change had come over me. My childish years had passed away, and with them my youthful character. The world was altered too, and as I stood at my mother’s grave I could hardly realize that 1 was the same thoughtless, happy creature, whose cheeks she Lad so often kissed in an excess of tenderness. But the varied events of thirteen years had not effaced the remembrance of that mother’s smile. It seemed as if 1 had seen her yesterday—us if the blessed sound of her voice, was then in my ear. The gay dreams of iny infancy and ehiid- hood wore brought back so distinctly to my mind, that had it not been for one bitier recollec tion, the tears 1 shed would have been gentle and refreshing. The circumstance may seem a trilling one—hut the thought of it even now agonizes my iteari—and I relate it that those children who have parents to love them, may learn to value them as they ought. My mother had been ill a long time; and I had become so much accustomed to her pale face and weak voice, that I was not frightened at them as children usually are. At first, it is tiue, 1 sobbed-violently—for they told me she would die; but when day after day I returned from school and found her the same, I began to believe she would always he spared to me. One day when I hud lost my place in the class, and done my woik wrong side outward, 1 came Lome discouraged and fretful. 1 went into my mother’s chamber. She was paler than usual, hut she met me with the same affectionate smile that always welcomed my return. Alas! when 1 look back through the lapse of thirteen years, I think my heart must have been sione, not to have been melted by it. She requested me to go down stuirs, and biing her a glass oi water— 1 pettishly asked why she did not call a dome-tic to do it. With a look of mild reproach which 1 shall never lor forget if I live to be a hundred years old, she said, “And will not my daughter bring a glass ol water for her poor sick mother? 1 went and brought her the water, hut I did not do it kindly. Instead of smiling and kissing her, as I was wont to do, 1 sat the glass down very quick, and left the room. After playing a short lime, I went to bed without bidding my mother “good night;” hut, when alone in my room, in darkness and silence, I remembered how paie she looked, and how her voice trem bled when she said, “Will not my daughter bring a glass of water for Iter poor sick tnoth- er?” 1 couiu not sleep—and 1 stole into her chamber, to ask lorgi eness. She Lad sunk in to an uneasy slumber, and ihey told me 1 must not waken her. ] did not tell any one what troubled me, hut stole haek to bed, resolved to tise early in the morning, and tell Iter how sor ry 1 was lor my conduct. The sun was shining brightly when I awoke, aud, t hurryiug on my clolhus, 1 hastened to my mother’s room. She was dead!—she never spoke to ine more—never smiled upon me again; and when 1 touched the hand that used to rest upon my head in blessing, it was so cold that it made me start. I bowed down by her side, and subbed in the bitterness of my heart. 1 thought then 1 wished 1 could die, r.nd be buried with her; and, old as 1 now ain, 1 would give worlds, were they mine to give, could my mother hut have lived to tell me she forgave my childish ingratitude. But 1 cannot call her hack, and when I stand hy her grave, and whenever I think oflter manifold kindness, the memory of that reproachlul look she gave me, will “bile like a seipent, and sling like an adder.” He has some reason for that, poor man;—for j To her I owe .’yhntet'cr 1 am; to her, whatever they are a set of scape-graces, sure enough.— shall be. In her soi.'?' tUu? * or ,nt ® rest ’ s ie They never earned any money, poor lads! how never for a moment forgot m y * ue m ? s or m - v should they know the worth of it? They don’t take to books, and their fatlier makes ’em go through college, for the name on’t—what can the poor fellows do with their time, without they have a high go, now and then? We ought to have a deal of compassion and charity for the rich, neighbor Jones. I was going io tell you a- hout myself. I heard tell about Dick’s house and furniture—I had a pretty sum of money,— so 1 thought I’d turn gentleman too. I gave up buisness, and bought two horses and a sofa. I was idle—and l called it being at my ease; but not a speck of ease could I find, i had my chimney pulled down four times. My wife said there was nothing the mntter with them; hut I said there was. However, it was had busi ness to pull down chimneys lor a living,—so I gave that up. The wind and the weather fur nished me with considerable occupation. I watched the weather-cocK as close as 1 ever watched my anvil;. And. there was no small com fort in grumbling about the dry and wet spells, which l said w®s a going to run the farmer.— Havi :g no business of my own, I kept an e\ c up on other people’s. I thought I was a pretty close observer,—and I declared as lazy folks al ways do, that the world was going to destruction, as/ast as it could go;.bui the world did’nt mind me—'So I gave that up. I wanted to c .mplain to my neighbors, but they had nt time to hear character. Even in her occasion-' 1 * resentments, for which I too often gave her caus,?, (would to God that I could recall those moments; sl,e had no sullenness of acrimony. Her feelings were warm and impetuous, but she was placa ble, tender and constant. “‘Such was she whom 1 lost; and I have lost her when her excellent natural sense was rapid ly improving, after 8 years struggle and distress had bound us fast to each oilier, when a know ledge of her worth, had refined iny youthful love into friendship, before age had deprived it of much of its original ardor. I lost her, also, (the choice of my youth and the partner of misfortunes) at a moment when I had a prospect of her sharing my better days.* ■i YVho— what wife, especially, can read these paragraphs without feeling a desire enkindled within hei to be distinguished in the world, not so much in her own name as by. her influence on. .,er husband and family and through them on oilters? She thus becomes not so much the in- strumenl of human amelioration, as the moving ageuL” —— DRESS. It is, after all, full dress that is the test of the gentlewoman. Common people are frightened at an unusual toilette: they think that finer clothes deserve finer manners, forgetting that any manner, to be good, must be that of every day. NAPOLEON. In the beginning of his consulate he often used to escape from the Tuilleries disguised inn big greatcoat and a large round hat, so that even the soldiers did not know him, and go early in the morning to General Sebastiani’s lodgings, awaken him, and walk arm in arm along the Boulevards. In one of these morning ivalks, Bonaparte wishing to makea handsome present to his beloved Josephine, stopped at a large store of precious curiosities. They found a cham bermaid cleaning the store, went in and asked for the master of the house. The servant; n swered in a dry tone, that there was no master ofthe house, looking with a suspicious eye upon the two intruders, whom she thought might he a l-'air of rogues who had entered the store so ear ly, truly with no favorable exterior, their boots and great coats covered with mud. She ran quickly into a bed room where two young clerks slept, and awakened them in haste, while the two strangers looked upon each other and smil ed. One of the young men came hastily and half clothed from his room and asked their bu siness. Bonaparte’s eyes fell upon two large and transparent vases of an exquisite workman- ship, while Sebastiam spoke with the clerk, who sent immediately for the mistress of the store, when Bonaparte in his abrupt and peremptory manner, asked the price of the vases; the widow measured him from foot to head and said drily. That their prices were beyond his reach.’ ‘That may b<‘, madutne,’said Bonaparte, irritated hut still in a moderate tone, but I think it would not cost you much to answer my question.’ ‘Ten thousand Tracks,sir,’ answered ihe lady in a dry tone. ‘Well madame, is that your lowest fixed price?’ ‘Yes, sir, 1 have but one price, as every one of my customers know.’ ‘Well, madame, I think 1 shall buy them; be so good as to place them aside, so that no body else may take them.’ •Bui, sir,’ said ihe astonished lady, ‘how then? I shall say they are sold, but—bul ’ ‘What hut madame?’ said Bonaparte, growing warm. Sehasliani gave him a hint, and said, ‘Madame is right; she does not know us, and of course is not to be blamed f<>r asking at least something •by which she might be assured that we were in earnest.’ He handed her at the same moment a Hank note for one thousand fiancs. The wid ow so'* m-reastonished, received the note, turn ed and rc-i..’ rne£ ‘ alK * l,iin< J ec * it to a clerk, di- reciing him in a whisper to go to a neighbor’s and see if it was not a lodged one, and then ad- dressing herself to the two strangers, said, with the Parisian gracefulness so chai- L ” orp8, ' c °^ a ** these female shop keepers—‘GentIon? cn » I tisk your pardon; you appear to be fine ana well bred gentlemen, but God knows since that Cor sican has been at the head of our government, we are overrun with rogues and vagabonds, who have even attempted Vo commit forgeries, (which is true) and, therefore I have sent to my neigh, bur’s who is an agent de change, (a broker) and who understands his business well.’ ‘But how then, madame, 1 thought Bonaparte was n good Frenchman,’ said the consul, ‘and although born in Corsica, that he has never ceased to be a Frenchman!’ ‘Yrs, yes,’ answered the -mer chant, smiiing, lie has been o good Frenchman, because he was too greatly interested to be oth erwise.’ Sebastiani saw that Bonaparte began to grow warm, and interrupted the loquacious lndv by asking her ‘what she had to say ol the first consul, if he had not crushed anarchy, re-es tablished order, and put France in a flourishing state?* ‘Yes, he has so well re-established order that we have now instead of laws, bayonets— instead of liberty, slavery, and a legion of mis erable spies who denounce and arrest every one who dares to speak against him or his adher ents, &c. This woman was of an exalted character, very handsome and bold and astonished both by her vehemence and the facility with which she talked to thenn Bonaparte could not resits in terrupting her in saying,* but, madame, you for got yourself in touching these very delicate po litical matters, in which you cannot have the ieast concern being obliged often to deaf with the first consul’s friends and adherents; and if we should belong to them, what, then, r^adame! would you not fear :o be arrested?’ T fear to be ar rested!’ said she laughing loud; ‘you, gentle men. could you denounce a poor widow who has five little children to provide for? No, certain ly no, 1 have nothing to fear from you—you ap pear to be too honest and good, gentlemem, to wish to ruin a poor woman because she used with freedom the only gift of God her toungue, which the usurper has left her. On leaving the store, Bonaparte told her he would send the money, and also for the two vases. In walking on they took a hackney coach, and stopped at a short distance from the Tuideries, in the rue del’ Eschelle. Bonaparte, although not well treated by this spirited lady, was never theless, the first who said he liked her frank* nesss, but that she deserved some good lesson for the future. As soon as he arrived at the Tuilleries, lie sent Gen. Lasnes with one of his carriages in search of the widow, with a polite invitation to come immediately with him to see the gentlemen who had bought the vases, as they wished to speak with her upon other pur chases and pay her what they owed. The unsuspecting lady seeing a gentleman clad in citizen’s ciodies, and an elegant but plain coach, was soon ready !o go, and off they went at full speed On the road she inquired very anxious ly af er the names of these gentlemen—if he (Lasnes) was their friend, and many other questions, which Lasnes was expressly prohibi ted against answering.—But what was her per plexity when she alighted at the great staircase ofthe Tuilleries, and saw that she had to deal with one of the generals attached to the con sul. She exclaimed at various intervals, ‘Oh, mon dieu, mon dieu, what will become ol me, if these should denounce me to the consul.* Las nes, who although a very rough soldier, was nevertheless humane, and of a good heart, assu- red her, as well as he could, that not the least harm was intended against her. But what was her terror w hen the first con sul’s cabinet opened and she recognized io him the stranger io whom she had spoken so freely. Site was ready to faint, and fell upon her knees and wept bitterly, humbly asking pardon. Bo naparte himself was moved, helped her up, led her to a chair, and requested her to be quiet and composed. These kind words restored her spi rits, and she was able to listen to the following friendly words: Madame, you have been a little imprudent in speaking so freely of me to stran. gers; happily, for you, these words have not been heard by Fouche or one of his agents; you would not come off so easily. Let this be a warning to you for the future. Here is your money, and give this (20,000 franks) to your children, and sav to them that if the mother is not mv friend. I wish at least the children should be!” It was by such means that he made him self popular. Compare him now with Louis Philip and his popularity. THE LAST TRIAL OF FIDELITY. The reign of Napoleon, worried and tansack- cd ns it has been, hy the writers of memoirs, re collections and histories, is a mine that still has a multitude of rich, and as yet, unexplored veins. The history ofthe secret associations that sprang up in the latest days of the empire, would for a most curious and interesting volume, and there would bn no lack of materials to fill it. The so ciety ofthe United B/others alone, would fur- nisli pages of the most absorbing interests, while nothing could appeal more forcibly to the ima gination than the strange and dramatic episodes connected with its mysterious initiations. Per- haps?a bundled incidents might be related as striking and well conceived as the following. An officer of the French army, having incur red the suspicion or resentment of the Emperor, thought it expedient to abandon his country, and take refuge in tine of the Austrian provinces: and here he became advised of, and initiated into a society, the object of whose formation was to hurl to theground the Colossus whose arm smote and governed the whole coniine t <>f Europe with a sceptre of iion. One day a letter was brought to him, containing the usual signs and passwords of the society, and requiring him to repair on the following night to a secluded spot in a forest, where he would meet some of his associates. He went, hut he found nobody. The orders were repeated four times, at intervals of a lew day?, and four times, the officer sought the appointed place, with no better success than at first. On the fifth night of his appearance at the rendezvous, after waiting some time, he was on the point of returning, when loud cries sud denly arrested his attention. Drawing his sword, he hastened to the spot whence they seemed to proceed, and was fired upon bv three men who, seeing tiial he remained ur.wounded, instantly took to flight—but at his feet la v a bleedingcorpse, in which, by the feeble light of the moon, he in v .in sought for tokens of returning animation. He was yet bending over the dead man, when a detachment of chas seurs, summoned apparently by the noise of the pistols that had been discharged by himself, Came up suddenly and arrested him ns the assassin. He was loaded with chains, tried the next day, and condemned to die for his supposed crime. His execution was ordered to take place at mid- night. Surrounded by the ministers ofjnstice, he was led, at a slow pace, by the light of torch es, and the funeral tolling ol hells, to a vast square, in the centre o( which was a scaffold, environed by horsemen; beyond these were a numerous group nf spectators, who muttered im patiently, and at intervals, sent forth n copy of abhorence. The victim mounted the scaffold; and his sen tence was read, and the last act of the tragedy was on the point of fulfilment, when an officer let fall a word of hope. An edict had just been promulgated by the government, offering pardon and life to any condemned criminal who should disclose the members and secret tokens of a par ticular association, the existence ol which the Frenelmmn to. whom these words were addressed find lately become a member. He was ques tioned, but he denied all knowledge; they urged him to confess, with promises of additional re- w; - r d—his only reply was a demand of immedi ate dca.'h—and his ini ialion was completed. All that passed was a terrible trial of fidelity; those who surrutinded him were members of the society, and every incident that has been de scribed, from the first suii?mons to the last fear ful moment of expected death, w’as only a step in the progress of the fearful experiment by which they sought lo determine the trustworthi ness of the neophyte. _ \ Life is short, its duration uncertain; and ex travagance only would patiently expect a de. sired blessing, which activity and address migh t presently obtain. Never sweep your parlor—it makea a con founded dual- PROFESSOR OF SIGNS. King James VI. on removing to London, was waited upon by the Spanish ambassador, a man of erudition but who had a crotchet in his head that every country should have a Professor of signs, to teach him to understand one another. Tlte ambassador was lamenting one day, before the king, this great decideratum throughout all Europe, when the king, who was a queerishsort of a man, says to him—‘Why I have a Professor of signs in the northernmost college of my do minion, viz. at Aberdeen; but it is a great way off perhaps 600 miles.’ ‘Were it 10,000 leagues off I shall see him,’ says the ambassador, ‘and am determined to set out in two or three days.’ The King saw he had committed him self, & writes or causes to be written, to the Uni versity of Aberdeen, stating the case, and desi- ring the Professors to put him off some way, or make the best of him. The ambassador arri ves, is received with great solemnity; but soon began to inquire which of them had the honor to be the Professor of signs? and being told that the j Professor was absent in the Highlands, and would return nobody could say when; says the embas sador, ‘I will wait his return, though it were 12 months.’ Seeing that this would not do, and that they had lo entertain him at a great expense all the while, they contrived a stratagem. There was one Geordy, a butcher, blind of an eye, a droll fellow, with much wit and roguery about him. He is got, told the story, and instructed to be a Professor of signs; but not to speak on pain of death!—Geordy undertakes it. The ambassador is now told that the professor of signs would be at home next day, at which he rejoiced greatly. Geordy is gowned, trigged, and placed in a chair of state, in a room of the college, all the Professors and the ambassador being in an adjoining room.—The ambassador is now shown into Geordy’s room, nnd left to converse with bun as well as he could, the whole Professor waiting the issue with fear and trembling. The ambassador bolds up one of his fingers to Geor dy; Geordy holds up two of his. The ambas sadar holds up three—Geordy clenches his fist and looks stern. The ambassador then takes an orange from his pocket, find holds it up; Geordy takes a piece of barley cake from his pocket and holds that up. After which the ambassador bows to him, and retires to the oilier Professors, who anxiously inquired his opinion of their brother. ’He is a perfect miracle!' says the ambassador ‘I would not give him for the wealth of the In- dies!’ Well,’says the professors, ‘to descend to the particulars.’ “Why,’ said the ambassa dor, ‘I first held up one finger, denoting that there was one God; he held up two, signifying that these are the Father and Son—I held up three, meaning the Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost; he clenched his fist, to say that these three are one. I then took out an orange, sig nifying the goodness of God, who gives his crea tures not only the necessaries, but the luxuries of life; upon which the wonderful man presented a piece of bread, showing that it was the staff of life, and preferable to every luxury.’ Tlte Professors were glad that matters had turned out so well; so having got quit of the am- bassador, they next got Geordy, to hear, his version ofthe signs. “Well, Geordy, how have you come on, and what do you think of vou man?” ‘The rascal!’ says Geordy, ‘what did he do first, think ye? He held up one finger, as much as to say, you have only one eye.’ Then I held up two, meaning that my one eye was per haps as good as both his. Then the fellow held up three of his fingers, to sav there was hut three eyes between us; and then I was so mad al the scoundrel, that I sleeked my neive, and was to come a whack on the side of his head, and would ha’ done it too, but for your sake. Then tlte rascal did not stop with his provocations here, hut forsoth takes out an orange, as much as to say your poor beggar ly cold country cannot produce that! I showed him a whang of a hear bannock, meaning that I did na’care a far thing for him nor his trash neither, as lang’s I ha’ this! But by a’ that’s guid (concluded Geordy) I'm angrv vet that 1 didua’ thrash the hide of the scoun drel!’ There is something in an affable, decisive, and manly deportment, when connected with ordi nary talen's, which gives a readier access to the heart, and takes a firmer hold of its best asso ciations, than the proudest worth can ever ac quire, while covered by an external, sycophan tic, obnoxious, repulsive address. In company with a man of the former character we feel ourselves, perfectly at ease, we feel as though we were in the company of one, who kew how, nnd did appreciate and love his fellow man; who is the same yesterday, to day, to-morrow, and at all times: one who affects nothing but what he really is; one who feels that every man is his equal however humble his situation may be in life, who pursues the meritorious path of hones ty and industry. While in the presence of the other character we find ourselves uneasy, our situation painful and its very principles intoler able. While the one instructs, or assists you without appearing lo intend it from any selfish motives, and is never more happy than when imparting to his fellow man that happiness which he deems requisite for the future:—The other, whenever he assumes his dignified attitude, you hear the very tone, and see the important character of one, who wishes to threaten command, and op press; whose heart is black as the grave’s deep midnight; one who seems to demand of all around, or near him that obedience which his fancied superiority and greatness would require, to avoid the error of a self-styled dictator, and one who would crouch at a gnat, from the fear of being injured by its powerful beak. To the conversation of the other, we listen with interest and satisfaction, because it is the sentiments and conviction of an honest and courageous breast: while from the latter, although his fund of in formation may be vas'ly superior, we turn away with a kind of instinctive disgust. If such be the ascendency which affability of manners gives to moderate talents, over the formal, would be great or petty tyrany; however so much presumed; how much more interesting must it appear, when connected with the high est intellectual worth. Moktimore. THE WANTS OF OUR NATURE. So great a portion of our time is occupied by the love and pleasures of life, that few hours of leisure is allowed for reflection on the past, or meditation on the future. From the moment we leave our pilow in the morning, we find ourselves involved in a vortex of employments. We are naked, and must be clothed—we are thirsty, and must drink—we are hungry, and nature de. mnnds food; we are the slaves of avarice—we aspire to power or pant after fame. We enter with ardour into the lists; our memory brings op no more of the post, than can aid us in the pur. suit, and anticipation is occupied solely by the light hope of success, or the dark fear of failure. THE STUMP TAIL COW. A good many yeacs ago a man stole • e from Morristown, N. J‘. and drove her to Phils* delphia (or sale. She was a common cow enough, except that she had lost her tail but. about six inches. The thief, fearing that by the shortness of her tail he might be traced, bad procured in some way, probably from a slaugh ter house, another cow’s tail, which he fasten*! so ingeniously to tlte short tail, that it was not to be known that it had not regularly grown there. As soon as the Jersey man missed his cow, h« set off for Philadelphia, thinking that she would probably be carried there for sale, and it hap pened that when he came to tlte ferry he gotinlo the same boat that was carrying over hiscow,and the fellow who stole her. As it was natural that he should have his thoughts very much up on cows, he soon began to look at this one with great attention. She was, indeed, very mmk like his cow, he thought. Her marks agreed wonderfully, and she had exactly the same ex pression of face, but then the expression of her tad was so very different.—It must be supposed that the new owner of the cow felt rather un comfortable during this examination, for he aook saw that this was the persou whose property lie had stolen, and he was very uneasy lest he should take hold of the tail, which he looked at so continually. Upon the whole he thought k best to divert his attention in some wav, if pos sible, and therefore steps up to him and saya “neighbor, that is a fine cow of mine, wont you buy her? you seem to know what a good cow is.” “Oh, dear me,” says the other, “I’ve just had a cow stolen from me.” “Well,” says the thief, “I’m sorry to hear that they’ve got to stealing cattle, but I’ll sell off, and you could not better replace your loss than by buying this cow; I’ll warrant she’s ns good as yours!” “Why,” says the Jetseyman, “she was exactly like this one, only that she had no tail to speak of, and if this one had not such a long tail, I’d swear it was my cow.”—Everybody now bo. gan to look at the cow’s tail, but the thiefstood nearer to it than any body, and taking hold of it so as just to cover the splicing with his left hand, and with a jacknife in his right pointing to the tail, he said, “so if this cow’s tail were only thie long, you’d swear she was yours?” “TliatT would,” says the other, who began to be very much confused at the perfect resemblance to hie' cow, except in this one particular, when the thief, with a sudden cut of his knife, took offthe tail, just about an inch above the splicing, and throwing it overboard, bloody ns it was, turned to- the other and said, “now swear it’s your cow!”—The bewilderment of the poor man wee'- now complete, but as he had seen-the tail cutoff, and saw the blood trickling from it, he could, of course, lay no claim to the unnimnl from the shortness of her tail; indeed, here was proof positive that this was not hiscow, so the thie£- going over with him, sold the cow without nay- further fear of detection. C. R,- THE PRICE OF FAME. In one of the most original and thoughtful works of our day, it is said,—“It is a fatal gift; for, when possessed in its highest quality find strength, what has it ever done fur its votaries? What were all those grrat poets of whom we talk so much! what were they in their lifetime? The most miserable of their species: depressed, • doubtful, obscure; or involved in petty quarrels, and petty persecution; often unappreciated, ut- ■ teily uninfluential, beggars, flatterers of men un-' worthy of their recognilion. What a train of disgustful incidents what a record of degrading circumstances, is the life of a great poet!” This is too true n picture; still, what does it prove, but that tiiis earth is no home for the more spiritual' part of our nature—that those destined to awa--' ken our highest aspirations, and our tenderest^ sympathies, are victims rather than votaries of the divine light within them? They gather froitv* 1 sorrow its sweetest emotions; thev repeat of liopa but its noblest visions; they look on nature with an earnest love, which wins the power of ma king her hidden beauty visible; and they repro. duce the passionate, the true, and the beautiful'.’ - Alas! they themselves are not wiiat they paint; the low want subdues the lofty will; the small and present vanity interferes with the far ami glorious aim; but still it is something to-have looked beyond the common sphere they wero fated to struggle. They paid in themselves tha ' bitter penalty of not realizing their own idea; but mankind have to he thankful for the gen--' erous legacy, of thought and harmony bequeath ed by those who were among earth’s proscribed and miserable. Fame is bought by happiness. •• EARLY YOUTH AND OLD AGE. There are in existence two periods when we-* shrink from any great vicissitude—early youth, andoldagov In the middle of life, we are indif ferent to change; for wc have discovered that nothing is, in the end, so good or so bad as it at first appeared. We know, moreover, how to accommodate ourselves to circumstances; and enough of exertion is still left in us to cope with the event. But age is heart.wearied and tem pest torn: it is the crumbling cenotaph of fear and hope! Wherefore should there be turmoil for the few, and evening hours, when all they covert is repose? They see their shadow full I upon the grave—and need bet to be at rest be neath? Youth is not less averse from change; but that is from exaggeration of its consequen ces—for all seems to the young so important, - and so faial. They are timed, because they know not what they fear; hopeful, because they know not what they expect. Despite their ga iety ofconfidence, they yet dread the first plunge '■ into ife’s unfathomed deep. THE FUTURE. Who rests content with the present? None. . We have all deep within us a craving for tho : future. In childhood we anticipate youth; in ■ youth manhood; in manhood old nge; and to • what does that turn, hut to a world beyond our own? From the very first, the strong belief is , nursed within us; we look forward,lill that which was desire grows faith. Time locome is the universal heritage of mankind; and he claims . but a small part ofhis portion who looks not be yond the grave. BUSINESS. After all, there is nothing like business for enabling us to get through our weary existence. The intellect cannot sustnin its sunshine-flight long; the flagging wing drops to the earth. Pleasure palls, and idleness is “Mnny gathered miseries in one name. But business gets over the hours without coun- i please, ting them. It may be very tired att!-.e end, still 1 it has brought the day to a close sooner than any thing else. Dr. Sheridan, the celebrated English school- master, had a custom of ringing his scholars to • prayers, in the school room, at a certain hour ev ery day. The boys were one day very devout. - ly at prayers, except one, who was -stifling a laugh as well as he could, which arose from** seeing a rat descending from the bell rope iirto • the room. The poor boy could hold out no lon ger, but burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, . which set the others agoing, when he pointed to • the cause. Sheridan was so provoked that h« - declared he would whip them all it the principal ! culprit was not pointed out to him; which was - immediately done. The poor pupil of Memos-- was immediately hoisted, and his posteriors laid bare to the rod; when the witty school-master told him if he said anything tolerable on the oc casion, as he looked on him as the greatest dunce in the school, he would forgive him. The trem- - biing culprit, with very little hesitation, address ed his master with ihe following beautiful dis tich: There was a rat—f»rwant of stairs, Came, down a rope—to t;o to pray’rs Sheridan instantly dropped the rod, and iq r stead of a whipping, gave him half-a-crowtw. Some years ago a rumor having got a»- broad that the Bank of Glasgow was in, dan-- ger of breaking, an old shopkeeper who had a small sum on deposito hastened to the Bauk to - draw his money out. The Teller counted out the amount in notes of the Bank, which the old fellow carefully deposited in his breeches, pock..- et and buttoned up—then, slapping hjs hand on it said, “Noo, dom ye! brak as soon as ya Brave actions are the subsmnee of life, and good sayings the ornament of it,

Georgia Historic Newspapers

The federal union. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1830-1861, May 01, 1838, Image 1