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KOl/GHTOM & NISBET
SOITOR6.
80UGHT0N. NISBET AND BARNES,
PnorniErons anl> Publishers-
TF.K.T18.
£fjc jFcficval Wtu'on
Is published weekly, in the Darien Bank
Unit ding; at TWO DOLLARS per Annum, pay
able in advance, TW O 1)01 LARS AND HI i I
CENTS if nut paid within three months, and Three
Dollars il nol paid bcloie the end of .lit year
So subscription will be received for less than
a year, nor will any paper6e discontinued until
all arrearages are paid.
The paper will not be senlto any person outol
,he Slate, until the subscription money is paid in
ndvance. or satisfactory reference given.
\uvertismkkts conspicuously inserted a t the
n-iial rates. Those sent without a specification of
l,e number of insertions, will be published until i
ordered out, and charged accordingly.
Sates of land and negroes, by Administrators,
Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be
held on the First Tuesday in the month between j
he hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the j
afiernoon. nl the Court-House in the Cour t) in
which the property is sttnaled.
Notice of these sales must be given in a public ;
gazette forty days previous to the day of sale.
Notices for the sale of personal property must
he given in like manner. iorti daysprevious to ;
the day of sale.
Notices to the debtors and creditors of anestate j
must also be published forty days. !
Notice that application will he made to the Court
of Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Negroes
must be published for tiro months.
Citations for lettets of Administration, must he
published thirty nays—for dismission from Ad
ministration.rrontA/y sir. months—for disn issiot from
Guardianship, forty days.
Rules for foreclosure of mortgage must he pub
lished monthly for four months—for establishing lost
papers, for the full space of three months— for com- j
oelling titles from F.xeciHors or Administrators. 1
H n i on
VOL. XXIV.1
.HIEEEOGEVIEEE GEORGIA, JUE 1*19, 1853
Mo. 7.
FINDLAY’S IRON WORKS,
Murnii, Grorgin.
^ITF.AM ENGINES and Boilers. Machinery for
Saw Mills of every description. Iron nod Brass
Castings. Millstones, Ac &c.
K. FINDLAY, Proprietor.
May J7. 1853. 50 ly
CITY HOTEL,
BAY STREET, Savannah,
CONDON if J. B. FOLEY. Proprietors.
Terms. $1 50 Per Day.
Unsurpassed in location, for gentlemen either on bu
siness or pleasure The apartments allotted to ladies
and families, have undergone mi en ire change, and
now have a private entrance !o the Dinner Room,
thus securing their oecopants from intrusion from oth
er parts of the building affording all the privaces of
home. ’53 50 ly
l> E NT A LlOTI « E. '
I he undersigned lias removed his
Office to ROOMS over Childs If Cham-
-. I J-7 bertuin's Jewelry Store where he w ill be
pleased to receive the calls ofall who may require his
services, as be is now fully prepared to perform all
operations upon the most approved and skillful man
ner. Terms cash, or paid when called for.
J. B. UIURl’IIY.
40—ly burgeon Dentist,
VARIETY STOVE WAREHOUSE!
BARTLETT BENT, JR„
here*bond has been given by the deceased .the j MANUFACTURER * DEALER IN THE MOST APPROVED
fu'l spare of three months.
Publications will always be continued accrrding
to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered.
Ml business of this hind will rereive prompt at
tenlion at the Ffpfrai. Union Office.
Letters on business must be post paid to en-
ti;?e thrm to attention.
BUSINESS CARDS.
EKEEJIAS A BENSON
1 mff©irs ©IF
.Vo 12 Cotton .ivrmtc, Jffacon, Ga.
■nTR^EDDING Patties and Families furnished
'q, # with plain and ornamental Cakes at short
notice and on reasonable terms, for cafh
CHAS. H- FREEMAN.
!\J ay 17.1853.
E. II. PLATT,
ATTOUKEY AT LAW,
Ttovprille, Lowndes County, Go.
June, 7. 1853. * *)’
j j— Jip
A TTORNE Y AT LA IF,
Camfbellton, Oa.
STOVES, UAIVGES,
Fanners' Boilers. Ship Cabooses, Gas Opens,
Charcoal and Har.lroal Furnaces Oren Fronts. Sfc
IKON CASTINGS GENERALLY.
238 W ater Street, New York.
5*ay 3, 1853. 48—3m
RICH’Li A- BENSON
50 ly
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
JACKSON, BUTTS Co. Ga.
J. W. H1LLEU,
MAW*')
(Corner St. Julian St. and Market Syr.J
42—ly SAVANNAH, GA.
CIIAS.gT CAMPBELL,
Attorney at Yaw,
MILLEDGEVILLE, GA.
Office next doer above Masonic Halt.
ILL attend promptly to all business entrusted
O F
AND
C A R P E T S
EVERY DESCRIPTION,
FOR SALE BY
GREENVVAY, BROTHER & Co.,
19 Barclay Street and 24 Park Place, New York.
April 20, 1853 47—3m
IT to Ins care.’ Particular attention paid to col
lecting.
Milledgeville, Feb. 22, 1853.
J. S. BOYNTON,
Attorney at Law,
MONTI CELLO, GEO.,
VtffT»lLL pradiice in the Ocmnlgee Circuit, and
'Ey in Jackson and McDonough of the Flint
Circuit.
Jan. 18. 1853. 33—ly
TB. A. LOFTON,
A TTOL A E Y AT LA TF,
MONTICELLO. Ga
January 25, 1853. 24—ly
FULTON At WALKER,
FACTORS AKD
COMMISSION MERCHANTS
No. 71. Bay Street.
SAVANNAH, Ga.
Tender their services to their friends and the pub
lie generally, in the sale of COTTON and other Pro
duce, and in filling Orders fur Hugging, Hope, and oth
er supplies. They will give their Strict Personal
Attention to all BUSINESS that may be commit
ted to their care—and do pains will be spared to give
general satisfaction.
ft. L- Fulton. J. II. Walker.
Savannah, Oct. 4,1852. 18 tf
J. D. Brows Thus. Griffin
BROW A & GKirFIN,
Attorneys at Lan and General
Land Agents.
AUSTIN CITY, TEXAS.
Savanuali Grocery Establishment.
M. J. SOLOMONS,
G t ENERAL Dealer, in all descriptions of GRO-
r CFRIES, WINES, LIQUORS, & c .
[All Orders trill meet with prompt attention ]
157 Broughton St-Next to N B & H Weed.
Savannah. April 19. 1853. 40—ly
BOY'S CL()THIi\G DEPOT!
rT'' 11F. subscribers have the most extensive and va-
I ried assortment of CLOTHING for BOYS from j
4 to 15. ever offered for sale iri the Union. Orders lor
i Gentlemen's Clothing filled at the shortest notice.—
Persons purchasing Clothing at this Establishment,
have the privilege of changing them if they do not
’ suit. F. A HOYT * Bro,
S W Cor. ol Chestnut and 10th Sts.,
J 45—ly PHILADELPHIA
LAW! LAW!! LAW!!!
A NALYSIS and Forms, by Howell Cobb,
Georgia Reports, “ T. R. R. Cobb,
Kelley’s Reports,
Hotchkiss do
j School and Miscellaneous Books
For sale by E. J. WHITE.
Milledgeville, April 5, 1853. 44—ly
i-'i.ova siorsi:
W
@,0©3iy ^©©ffgaao
T. A. GOODWIN, Prop R1ETOR.
A. B.HARTWELL, Superintendent.
! This well known and popular Hotel has been
thoroughly repaired, and is now open, and superbly
furnished for the reception of Boarders and the
Travelling Community The Proprietor and his
Assistants will spare no pains to make this House
one of the best Hotels in the State.
A. B HARTWELL. H. C. CUNNINGHAM.
1 and S. LANIER will he happy to receive and wel-
ILL attend to the collection of claims against | come their old friends and acquaintances, and will
the Stale of Texas for land and money. Also use their utmost efforts to make them comfortable
being well acquainted with the public domain of the during their stay.
{state, they will locate land certificates, and have the Macon. August *,4, lco-. 12 tf
laud surveyed arid patented One of tin. firm will al
ways be found at their office in Austin.
aiiHE. Undersigned, resident at Milledgeville.
A having funned, for the purposes of such an
Agency, a temporary connection with the above firm |
will give any information, and prepare and forward j
all papers necessary for the periect’on of claims, j
All persons desirous of engaging their sei vices are
requested to call upon him.
CHAS. G CAMPBELL, Att’y at Law.
Milledgeville. April 25. 1-53. 47
FIRE PROOF WARE HOUSE-
1 THE undersigned having associated Mr.
Ovid G. Sparks with him in business—
I continues to transact the
Warehouse and Commission Business.
Under the name and style of HARDEMAN &
SPARKS. Their undivided attention will he given
to all business committed to their charge. The long
experience of the undersigned as a cotton seller, ad
ded to his dpsire to please as well a6 to faithfully serve
those who may Patronize the new firm, gives to him
the hope that the liberal patronage heretofore given to
Hardeman & Hamilton, will he continued to Har
deman St Sparks. They will risk nothing, either in
purchasing or by advancing on Lotion, as they have 41 day at 11 o'clock A M.. and also on Wednesday
determined to confine themselves to business with and Friday at night, in connection with my Auction
Planter;, and to them liberal advances will he made : Business. I have taken charge of the large and com-
on Cotton in store. Family Supplies icith Hugging inodious Brick Ware House near the Depot, where
all kinds of Produce can bn stowed with perfect
safety, as it is secure from fire. I will attend to fill
ing all orders fnrproduce tit the lowest Market prices,
and keep my friends posted in regard to the market,
at all times, if desired. Your patronage is kindly so-
lici’ed.
Market st. Chattanooga. Term . "ay 7. 1853. 49 tf
LANIER HOUSE.
MAC OX. GA.
ALEX. SCOTT, WM DIBBLE.
Macon, April 12. 1833. 45—ly
LAND FOK SALE.
THE following Lots of Land, to-wit:
N« 71. 10ih dist. originally Early now Baker,
*• 412. 7th “ “ Appling,
*• 145. 4th “
W. B. YV. DENT.
Nevvnan, Coweta county. Ga.
October 19. 1852 20—tf
FOB SALE.
200.000 lbs- prime Bacon.
; 200 Bis. Lard.
| 100 do Apples.
REYNOLDS & LOFTON,
Commission Merchants,
Atlanta. Ga.. 1853. 41—ly
AUCTION AND
(0©3inimasfSE®m
By JOHN L. HUSON. (late ol Rome, Ga )
^ WILL sell regularly every Thursday and Satur-
and Hope, will be furnished ourlriends at the lowest
Macon prices THUS. HARDEMAN.
August 17, 1852, 1J — i y.
J. B. TREBSCH & T. UOFITIANN,
1L TPT-T? e*
At
RESPECTFULLY inform
men of Milledgeville and vicinity, that they
the Gentle
NOTICE.
have takru the Shop lately occupied hv Mr. ! MtHedgevulle Georgia, offer*
. - mr t-ale the following I
Riinhart. and are now prepared to Man
ul'orture BOOTS in the most fashionable
style, of the best materials, and warrant a
good fit. A liberal patronage is solic
ited. Work executed with dispatch
KF.PA’RING of all kinds, done up
at short notice Just give ns a trial, and we feel con
fident of your patronage.
Terms liberal (Shop next door to C. 11. Wright's
Grocery Store )
Milledgeville. May 10, 1853. 49—ly
ALLEN’S
WDUS LlMMGIiT,
E. J. WHITE. Milledgeville, Ga . has just receive
a lot of AUen's Indian Liniment—for the relief and
cure of Rheumatism, Sprains, Lameness. Stiffness
Joints, Soreness of muscles. Burns. Scalds &c.
This preparation, is superior to any Liniment
known. Prepared by 8. J. Dickinson, Albany Ga.,
and sold by nearly all DruggisU and Merchants in
1 h“ “nd the adjoining States.
"nee 50 cents per bottle. 10—lyr
n LOW COUNTRY
LANDS TO-WIT t
LotNo. 394. 15th Dist .Decatur County.
One third of “ •• 280, 14th " do do
“ “ 1U4. 1st •*
“ “ 80, 10th “
•• « 92, 5th *•
“ 221.14th ••
One third of •• “ 158,13th “
- “ 275, 27th «•
“ '* 70. 10th “
“ « 54. 4th «
JAMES S
May 2d, 1853.
Baker
do
Dooly
do
do
Early
Clinch
Randolph
GHOLSTON.
48—8m
do
do
do
do
do
do
do
do
#2000.
□THHE Subscriber is authorized, to purchase all the
land that he can, in the counties of Baker,
Thomas, Decatur, Irwin. Dooly and every other
county, in South and West Georgia. All persons
owning low County Lands, can sell them to me at
fair prices, for the Cash. Address me at Griffin, Ga.
W. a. MOSELEY.
Jane 30,1853 3-tf
POETRY.
From the Boston Post.
Married—On the 10th ult . in Kennebunkport,
Whizz! ding! ding! ding went the dock
furiously.
“Powers of mercy!" cried deacon. \Strik-
«. . „ ,, n ... „ , ... » p0 j' in’five! it’s struck a hundred already.”
Me, by Rev. C. W. Rewvwnod. Miss Amanda _ _ , )
Mann to Mr. A. R Nett, all of Kennebnnkport. I “Deacon Barberry! cried the deacon s
The following poetical correspondence is said to better half, who had hastily tobed herself,
have actually passed between tlie above named couple and now came plunging do wn tire staircase
.l'.? ve ^een the hone fide “proposal” and “re- j the wildest state of alarm, ‘ what is the
FAIRBANKS’ PLATFORM SCALES,
I ONG KNOWN—Severely tested; Always right;
1 The Acknowledged Standard
Railroad, Hay. Coal, and Farmers’ SCALES, set '
in any part of the country, at short notice.
Agmts—Phii.bkjck & Bell. Savannah.Georgia.
Fa IK BANKS <V Co , C?9 Water Street, New York. |
May 3, 1*553. 4^—3./j
SADDLERS AND COACH MAKERS!
GOODS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION-
T 110.11AS MACKENZIE A SONS,
No 222, Baltimore Street. BALTIMORE,
| M PORTERS and Dealers in Saddlery. Hardware.
1 and Couch Goods—offer to Southern Dealers goods
iti 'In ir line, such as Stirrups. Bridle Bits, Hogskins.
Buckskins, Buckles of all sorts, Web’s patent Leath
er. Axles, Springs, bent Fellows, Shafts. Castings, of
all sorts; Tacks. Saddlers sewing Silk, Serges, patent
Canvass. Cloths.
Oil and Brussels Carpeting:,
Carriage Bolts and Screws, of all sizes In short, ev
ery thing needed by a Saddler. Coach Maker, and
Harness Makers.
Being direct Importers, with ample means, we can
offer to Southern buyers as good GOODS, at as low
prices, and on as good terms, to punctual customers,
as any other similar House in the l nited States. Or
ders promptly attended to. TRY US. and address
THOMAS MACKENZIE & SONS,
222 Baltimore Street, Baltimore.
April 26, 1&53. 47—3m
R L JL
ply.” The fact that they were inveterate punsters,
makes the siatcmeut n.ore probable. The last stanza,
we presume, was added by our correspondent;—
NOTT TO AMANDA.
Oh. that I could prevail, my fair,
That we unite onr lot.
Oh. take a man, Amanda Mann,
And tie a double “knot.”
Your coldness drives me to despair—
For what shail I do’ ah, tohutf
For you I’m growing thin and spare—
For you I’m a ‘ pine Xutt."
If I should hear that you had died,
’Twould kill me on the spot;
Yet only yesterday I cried,
“Ah, w ould that she were Noll!”
The •chords” and tendrils of my heart
Around iht e londlv “twine”—
Amanda, heal this aching smart!
Amanda, oh be mine!
These very terms, as I opine,
Suggest united lots
Let’s tie then dear, these cords and‘twine,’
Into hymeneal knots.
MISS AMANDA MANN’S REPLY.
This life, we know, is but a span.
Hence I have been afraid
That I should still remain A. Mann,
And die at last —a maid.
And often to myself I say,
On loosing round I find
There’s Nott.a man in every way
.Inst suited to my mind.
I fain would whisper him, apart,
He'd make me hVst for life —
If he would take me to his heart
And make A. Mann a wife.
Love not. my mother often says.
And so. too. says the song—
I'll heed the hint in future days.
And fore Nutt well and lung
Then oh! let Hymen on the spot,
Ills chains around me throw—
And hind me in a lasting knot.
Tied with a single beau.
And now I give mysell to you,
And thus unite onr lots—
And tic these “cords and twine,” into
A dozen little Not's.
matter with the clock?’’
“Goodness only knows,” replied the old
man. “It’s been in the family thiee hun
dred years, and never did I know it to car
ry on so afore.”
Whizz! ding! d'ng! ding! went the clock
again.
“It’ll bust itself!” ctied the old lady,
shedding a flood of tears, “and the r e won’t
be nothin’ left of it:’’
“It’s bewitched!" said the deacon, who
retained a leaven of good eld New England
superstition in his nature. “Any how,”
said he, alter a pause, advancing resolutely
the dust of the Fleet street, but be seetns to
love its dingy walls, and grows warm and
eloquent over its rush and whirl. Is he the
AN INCIDENT.
One of my father’s brothers, residing in
Boston at the lime when the yellow fever
Skimpole of “Bleak House!” The knowing prevailed to such a frightful extent, became
ones of London says he Is. \ a victim to the pestilence. When the first
On the left, as you go up Pickadilly to- ] symptoms appeared, his wife sent the chil-
ward the Parks, stands a neat book shop,
with “Chapman & Hall” over the door.—
The tall gentleman with the nose, and the
waistcoat, and elegant cravat, is Sir Edward
Lytton, or Bulwer, as you may happen to
From the Family Friend.
HOME AGAIN.
BT ELLEN LEWIS.
Rye-Field next station! “Hurrah! It
seems good to get into a Christian country
once more, after, a ihtee-yeara camping out
among California savages, I declare, I
wonder if Kate hasn’t just got supper
ready!" (Par parenthese, isn’t that a mor-
culine idea.)
“Hutrah, there, Mr. Conductor, just
shove out my biggage; I’m off herel” And
sure enough, he hurries home at the rate of
two locomotives tied together.
“Kate! Kate! I say, little wife, where are
you!” and he looks through the window,
“where—wh-e w! if that isn’t comfortable;
there sits Katie with a handsome young
man. In a dress blue, too, the gypseyal*
ways knew she looks prettiest in blue—and
those earrings too—confound the woman—
I wonder where she gets money to dash out
call him. He is telling Mr. Chapman, who
has his ear close to ihe Baronet's bosom,that
the engraving just brought in for bis inspec
tion is not quite right in the direction of the
whiskers and the shirt collar. Spite of his
dandy aspect and his effected drawl, no bet
ter hearted gentleman w ields the fluent quill
than the author of “my novel.” Whenever
he runs down from his elegant retreat at
Ivenelworth to London, he does so many
dren into the country, and herself remained j
to attend upon him- These arguments j
mai e no impression on her affectionate;
heart. She felt that it would be a long with, when I’m digging away in California,
life of sarisfaction to her to know who at- ; Taking her hand now! Sathanos. what
tended him if he did not. She accordingly J will come uext! May you goto—Kate, I
stayed, and watched with unremitting care, swear, God bless you, darling! Kate, I
This, however, did not avail to save him. • say, Kate!” and he raised his voice a lit-
He grew worse and worse, and finally died. ( tie.—
Those who went round with the death-carts i “My husband!” and the prettiest white
had visited the chamber, and seen that the arms in the world are round his neck, the
end was near. They carne now to take the j rosiest lips pressed to his own, and over the
body. His wife refused to let it go. She bright, black eyes close long, jetty lashea,
told me that she never knew how to ac- ;
count for it, but, though he was perfectly \
cold and rigid, and to every appearance .
w . kind acts for poor brother authors, that
towards the clock, “I’R see what s got into i “Bulwer’s guineas”are as sure as morning i quite dead, there was a powerful impression
1 suns or evening stars. | on her mind that life was not extinct. The
—— I men were overbone by the strength of her' throbbing against his own; but it’s certain
THE PREACHING OF WHITFIELD, conviction, though their own reason was op-^ he gave the handsome young fellow, his
There is nothing in the appearance of posed to it. _ j wife’s—youngest brother—a cordial wel-
louching.—The following lines were taken from
the cell of a convict nov in Sing Sing Prison, un
der sentence for life:
The last golden beam of the sunlight has fled
Il kissed my pale cheek in tny daik lonely cell.
Ant! 1 thought of iny mother who sleeps with the
dead,
And brothers and sisters, and home where they
dwell:
I fell on my couch, and I wept hitter tears,—
(For a convict can weep o’er the bright scenes of
youth)
And the loss of the loved ones of earlier years.
Was told in the still dying whispers of truth.
I thought of the hours when my heart was as pure
As the tear drops that fell on the stones of my
floor,
And the bride of my youth, whose love none was
truer.
And her griel ami her death—oh, what could be
more?
I though ofall these as that last golden beam
Lelt my cell and the world, on its mission forever.
And I tried to believe 'twas a horrible dream,
From which I’d awake—but ah, never, no never!
”miscellaneous'. ~
A YANKEE STORY.
[The funny columns in the English papers
derive more of their “stuff for smiles” from
the journals of this country, than fiom any
other snutce. VVe find in one <>f them this
ludicrous anecdote of the “Bewitched
Clock,” which was quite new to us:]
About half-past eleven o’clock on Sun
day night, a human leg, enve’oped in a blue
broadcloth, “might have been seen” enter
ing Deacon Cephas Barberry’s kitchen
window. The leg was followed, finally by
the entire person of a live Yankee, attired
in Sunday-go to-meetiu’ clothes. It was,
in short, Joe Mayweed who thus burglar
iously won his way into the deacon’s kitch-
“Oh, don't,” cried his daughter, seizing
one of his coat-tails, while his wife clung to
the other. “Don’t!" chotU3sed both the
women together.
“Let go my reiment,” shouted the old
deacon. “1 ain’t afeatd of the powers of
darkness.”
But the women would not let go; so the j
deacon slipped cut of his coat, and w hile, j
from the sudden cessati m ofresistance, they
fell heavily on the floor, he darted forward,
and laid his hands upon the clock case.
But no human power could open it. Joe
was holding it inside with a death-grasp.
The old deacon began to be dreadfully
frightened. He gave one more tug. An I
unearthly yell, as of a fiend in distress, burst I
from the inside, and then the clock case !
pitched head fmemost at the deacon, fell j
headlong on the floor, smashed its face, and j
wrecked its fair proportions. The current I
of air extinguished the lamp—the deacon, |
the old lady, and Sally, fled up stairs, and ;
Joe Mayweed, exti icating himself from the '
clock, effected his escape in the same way j
in which he entered.
The next day all Appleton was alive j
witbthestory of how Deacon Barberry’s |
clock hadjbeen bewitched, and though many 1
believed bis version, some, and especially :
Joe Mayweed, affected to discredit the |
whole affair, hinting that the deacon had j
been trying the experiment oftasting frozen !
c.der, and that the vagaries of the clock- j
case existed only in a distempered imagina- j
tion.
However the interdict being taken off, !
Joe was allowed to resume his courting, I
and won the consent of the old people to his
union with Sally, by repaiting the old clock
till iL went as well as ever.
heavy with tears!
I don’t know how it wa9, but by this time
the husband’s heart was softened consider*
ably. It miglU have been owing to the in-*
fiuence of a certain other heart, beating and
this extraordinary man. which would lead
you to suppose that a Felix could tremble
before him. “He was something above the
middle statue, well proportioned, and re
markable for a native gracefulness of man
ner. His complexion was very fair, his
features regular, and his dark blue eyes :
small and lively; in recovering from the |
mesales, he had contracted a squint with
one of them; but this peculiarity rather ren
dered the expression of his countenance
more remarkable, than in any degree les
sened the effect of its uncommon sweetness.
The half hour again came round, and
again was heard the solemn words, “Bring
out your dead.’’ The wife again resisted
their importunities; but this time the men •
w'ere more tesolute. They said the duty
assigned to them was a painful one, but the
health of the town required punctual obe
dience to the orders they reecived; and if
they ever expected the pestilence to abate
it must be by a prompt removal of the dead,
and immediate fumigation of the infected
apartments.
pleaded and pleaded, and
She pleaded and pleaded, and even
His voice excelled, both in melody and , knelt to them in an ag >ny of tears, contin-
cnmpass, and its fine modulations were hap- j "ally saying ‘I am sure he is not dead. ilo ItJ11 IICI t
pily accompanied by that grace of action, ! d b® toeti represented the utter absurdity of, | e ^ j ier w j t jj
which he possessed in an eminent degree,
and which has been said to be the chief re
quisite lor an orator.” To have seen him
when he first commenced, one would have
thought him anything but enthusiastic and
glowing; but, as ho proceeded, his heait
warmed with his subject, and his manner
became impetuous and animated, till, for
getful of everything around him, he seemed
to kneel at the throne of Jehovah, and to
beseech in agony for his fellow-beings.
After he had finished his prayer, he knelt
such an idea; but finally, overcome by her
tears, again departed. With trembling
haste, she renewed her efforts to restore
him. She raised his head, rolled his limbs
in hot flannel, and placed hot onions on his
feet. The dreaded half hour again came
round, and found him as cold and rigid as
ever. She renewed her entreaties so des
perately, that the messengers began to think
alittlegentle force would be necessary. They
accordingly attempted to remove the body
against her will, but she threw herself up-
for a long time in profound silence; and so J on anf J clung to it with such fiantic
powerfully had it affected the most heartless strength, that they could not easily loosen
From the Boston Transcript-
LONDON LITERARY LIONS OF THE DAY.
In a charming mansion in St. James
Place, secluded somewhat from the roar and
tumult of the great city, still lives the ven
erable poet of the “Pleasures of Memory,”
whose gieat age. (ninety years having rolled
over his bald, ripe forehead)disqunlifies him
from taking his long accustomed walks
upon the metropolis. Mr. Rogers sat in
Westminister Hall when Burke and Sheri
dan were pouring out their invectives a-
gainst Warren Hastings, and all London
was was ringing with the applauses which
eloquent Brinsley elicited on that occasion.
He is, therefore, the part and parcel of
by-gone days, and is very good author
ity on what happened during the last sixty
years.
In a fine large House in Tavistock Place,
Tavistock Square, sits Charles Dickens,
busy a9 a bee over “Bleak House” and
“Household Words.” On an afternoon, the
loiterer in that vicinity may catch a glimpse
“Wonder how much the old deacon made of his thin hair now sprinkled with grey, as
by orderin’ me not to darken his doors a- it is tossed by the summer wind which vis-
gain!” soliloquized the young gentleman, J its bis desk as he sits writing in his ample li-
“Promised him I wouldn’t but didn't say brary room. It is not an unfrequent occur
nothin’ about winders. Winders is just
good as doors, ef there ain’t no nails to tear
your trousers unto. Won let' if Sally’ll
come down! T tie critter promised me.
I’m afeard to move about here, “cause I
might break my shins over somethin' nu-
ther, and wake the old folks. Cold enough
to freeze a Polish hear here. O. here
C< mes Sally.”
The beauteous maid descended with a
pleasant smile, a tallow-candle,and a box of
lucife- matches. After receiving a rap-
rence to meet him on the rail car, rushing
out of London, fur a few days’ respite at
Brighton or Bath.
Thackery has ere this got home again,
and any fine day between 12 and 2 o’clock,
he may be found at the Garrick Club in
King street. (’ovent Garden, pouring over a
French newspaper or chatting with Albert
over mutton chop an sherry additions. It is
not an unusual thing to find him at one end
of poor old Chatles Kemble’s ear trumpet,
or vis-a-vis with Buckstone, the Comedi-
turous giee’.ing, she made up a rousingfire an. discussing old actors and defunct Drury
in the cooking-stove, and the happy couple Lane.
sat down to enjoy the sweet interchange of Barry Cornwall lives in Harley street,
vows and hopes. But the course of true Cavendish square, where he is spending the
love ran no smoother in old Barberry’s happy evening of tiis life,beloved by all who
kitchen than it does elsewhere, and Joe, are fortunate enough to know one of the
who was just making up His mind to treat most glorious song writers in the English
himself to a kiss, was startled by the voice tongue.
of the deacon, her father, shouting from his Walter Savage Landor is at home in Bath
chamber door:— “Sally! What are you having been expelled from Italy on account
getting up in the middle of the night for?” , of his “dangerous liberty doctrines.” At
“Tell him it’s most morning,” whispered rare intervals, he goes up to London, and
Joe. then his hosts of friends flock around him,
“I can’t tell a fib!” said Sally. and make his fine old face radiant with
“I’ll make it a truth, then.’’ said Joe; smiles at the profuse hospitalities poured a-
and, running to the huge, old-fashioned ; round him.
clock that stood in the corner, he set it at
five.
“Look at the clock, and
time it is,” cried the old gentleman.
“It’s five, by the clock,” answered Sally,
and, corroborating her words, the old clock
struck five.
The lovers sat down again and resumed
their conversations Suddenly the staircase
began to creak. “Goody gracious! It’s fath
er,” exclaimed Sally.
“The deacon! by thunder!” cried Joe.
“Hide me. Sally!”
"Where can I hide you!" cried the dis
tracted girl.
“Oh, 1 know,” said he" “I’ll squeeze
into the clock case.,’ And, without another
word, lie concealed himself in the case,
and closed the door.
The deacon was dressed, and sitting him
self down by the cooking-stove, pulled out
his pipe, lighted if. and commenced smok
ing deliberately and calmly. “Five o’clock,
eh!" said he. “Well - I shall have time to
smoke thiee or four pipes, and then I'll go
and feed the critters.”
"Hadn’t you better feed the critters fust,
sir,” suggested the dutiful Sally.
“No. smokin’clears my bead, and wakes
me up,” replied the deacon, who seemed
not a whit disposed to hurry his enjoyment.
Burr-r-r r—whizz—ding! ding! ding!
ding! went the clock.
“Tormented lightning!" cried the dee-
con. starting up, and dropping bia pipe on
the stove; “what’n creation’s thatl”
“It’s only the clock striking five!” said
Sally, tremulously.
In a village of Twickenham, in a modest
brick house by the road side muses Alfred
tell me what | Tennyson, the poet Laureate of England.
His own publisher only meets him once or
tviice a year, as he eschews London and
loves privacy. As you walk by the side of
the Thames on a Sunday evening, at the
sunset hour, sometimes the wide hat
of Alfred, the bard of “Lochley Hall,” is
visible.
The Brownings are like swallows, flitting
from clime to clime, but London is often in
their way, and they may he met not untre-
quently at the national Gallety in Trafalgar
square or at the opera. Both are so delight
ful to encounter,like all exquisite enjoyments,
is rare.
If one should try very hard to get a
glimpse of the illustrious Thomas Carlyle,
the great “Sarto Resartus” of modern
Europe, he would find it a very difficult
matter. Thomas likes to be a lion but he
dont want anybody in his own cage beside
himself. He lives in Chelsea, and often
comes to town, but to find him often is not
common even to his best friends.
Macaulay is a club man, and when he is
not among his idols (the books of the British
Museum) he may be met within the brilli
ant halls of the “Athensum” or the “Re
form.” On a lazy, hazy London day prop
er, he might with a certainty be counted
on over a folio in a snug alcove at the “Brit
ish.”
Dear, kind, genial old Leigh Hunt, tod
dling over the pavement in the Strand, to
ward hi* son’s newspaper office, is a com
mon occarience. He lives a few miles from
of his audience, that a stillness like that of
the tomb peivaded the whole house. Be
fore he commenced the sermon, long, dark
ening columns crowded the bright sunny
sky of the morning, and swept their dull
shadows over the building, in feai ful augury
of the storm.
His text was, “Strive to enter in at the
stiait gate; for many, l say unto you, seek
to enter in, and shall not be able.” -‘See
that emblem of human life.” said he, point
ing to a shadow that was flitting across the
floor; “it passed for a moment and conceal
ed the brightness of heaven fiom our view;
hut it is gone. And where will ye be, my
hearers, when your lives have passed away
like that daik cloud? Oh, my dear friends,
I see thousands sitting attentive, with eyes
fixed on the poor, unworthy preacher. In
a few days we shail all form a part of that
vast assembly that will gather before the
throne, and every eye will behold the Judge.
VViih a voice whose call you must abide
and answer, he will inquire whether on
earth you strove to enter in at the strait gate
— whether you were supremely devoted to
God—whether your hearts were absorbed
in him. My blood runs cold when I think
how many of you will then seek to enter in,
and shall not be able. Oh, what plea can
you make before the Judge of the whole
earth! Can you say it has been your whole
endeavor to mortify the flesh, with its affec
tions tnd lusts!—that your life has been
one long effort to do the will of God! No!
you must answer, “l made myself easy in
the world, by flattering myself that all would
end well; but I have deceived my soul, and
am lost!”
“You, O false and hollow Christian, of
what avail will it be that you have done
many things; that you have read much
in the Sacred Word, that you have made |y > and not being able to bestow a prefer-
loug prayers; that you have attended religi- | ence, he should leave it to the force and '
nus dnties, and appeared holy in the eyes j address of the claimants to decide the ques- |
of man? What will all this be, if, instead tion. He did not mean, however, to risk |
of loving Him supremely, you have been the loss of one or the other, or perhaps of :
supposingyou should exalt yourself in beav- both. He could not, therefore, permit them :
en by actions polluted and unholy! i to encounter with offensive weapons,but had :
her grasp. Impressed by the remarkable 1
eneigy of her will, they relaxed their ef- ;
forts. To all their remonstrances she an
swered, “If you bury him you shall bury ,
me with him.” At last, by dint of reason
ing on the necessity of the case, they ob
tained from her a promise that, if he show
ed no signs of life before they again came
round, she would make no further opposi
tion to the removal.
Having gained this respite, she hung the
watch upon the bed-post, and renewed her
efforts with redoubled zeal. She kept kegs
of hot water about him, forced hot brandy
between his teeth, and breathed into his
nostrils, and held hartshorn to his nose; but 1
still the body lay motionless and cold. She
looked anxiously at the watch, and in five
minutes the promised half hour would ex
pire. and those deadful voices would be [
heard passing through the street. Hope- !
lessness came over her—she dropped the !
head she had sustained—her hand trembled |
violently—and the hartshorn she had been
holding was spilled on the pallid face. Ac- j
cidently, the position of the head had be- !
come slightly tipped backward, and the
powerful liquid flowed into his nostrils. In- j
stanlly there was a short, quick gasp—a
struggle—his eyes opened ! and when the j
death-men came again, they found him sit
ting up in bed! He is still alive, and has
ei joyed unusually good health.
[Mrs. L. M. Child. |
CURIOUS DUEL.
Two gentlemen, one a Spaniard and the \
other a German, who were recommended '
by their birth and services, to the Emperor j
Maximillian II., both courted his daughter, j
the fair Helene Schartequinn, in marriage.,
This prince, after a long delay, one day j
informed them, that, esteeming them equal-
“And you, rich man, wherefore do you
hoard your silver?—wherefore court the
price you have received for Him whom you
every day crucify in your love of gain?
Why, that, when you are too poor to buy a
drop of cold water, your beloved son may
be rolled to hell in his chariot, pillowed
and cushioned around him.”
Hss eye gradually lighted up, as he pro
ceeded, till towards the close, it seemed to
sparkle with celestial fire
ordered a large hag to be produced. It
was his decree, that which ever succeeded
in putting his rival into this bag, should ob
tain the hand of his daughter. This singu
lar encounter between the two gentlemen
took place in the face of the whole court.
The contest lasted for more than an hour.
At length the Spaniard yielded, and the
German, Ehhurhard, Baron de Talbot, hav
ing placed his rival in the bag, took it upon
his back, and very gallantly laid it at the
“Oh, sinner!” he exclaimed, “by all your j feet of his mistress, whom he espoused the
hopes of happiness, 1 beseech you to repent j next day. Such a story was gravely told by j
— Let not the wrath of God be awakened. J M. de St. Foix. It is impossible to say c _ a IIJ1IllDIll alIU ou „,, ( ul „.
Let not the fires of eternity he kindled a- | what the feelings of a successful combatant brov J n mustac | ie and beard. His face is
gainst you. See there!” said he pointing to | may be. on Ins having passed a small sword lhi() and wrin k| e9 are already makingtheir
come, and sat down with his good humor
not at all diminished by the sight of nicely
browned biscuit and smoking tea-cakes.
HOME again!
A handsome man with a slightly sun*
burned face sat in the afternoon train to
wards Slingsby, leaning his head on bis
hand. He had been for three years a wan
derer, and come home rich. Rich! there’s
a great deal in that word—to most. To
him, there was everything! The proud man
had seen his delicate wife, reared in luxu
ry, reduced to privation, and she suffered,
and complained not; but it maddened him\
He left her on a mail crusade for gold-
aweary memory dwelling in
his soul of clinging arms, and wild, passion
ate kisses. The deep, bright eyes of their
one child, their almost angel Florence,
looked on him in his dreams sometimes, and
he heard the last tear-choked God bless you
from his young wife’s lips.
Nol for many a weary month had he
heard tidings from home, and there were
tears in the deep eyes that shone trom un
derneath his slouched Spanish hat, as he
hurried from the Slings!^ depot.
The roses were bright around the porch
of the little fairy cottage—the woodbine
was green over itand forth from tufts of mig-
nionette, and hearts ease, floated a faint,
delicate breath of perfume. But where
were his wife’s blue eyes—where the sun
shine of Florence’s go!den hair? - He hur*
ried in; there was no sound of life, and the
pale, thin figure lying on the couch, with
the golden-fringed lids drooping heavily
over the blue eyes—can that be Jennie—
his Jennie. It ronst be. “Jennie, sweet
wife!” and the words burst from his heart,
like a low wail. The lids unclose—unclose,
the ripe lids part—and then she sniks in
his arms in a fainting fit, almost like death.
A half-hour later, and he held her in his
arms, murmuring low words of love, blent
with vows never again to part on earth.
“But Florence, our Florence,” he asked at
last; “where is shel" “Dead, dearest, dead!”
and the young wife clung to him convulsi
vely. “Dead/” and the word swelled on
his ear like the wail from a broken heart.
Yes, there was life and light on earth, and
the great world recked not that the grass
grew green over that child-heart—that the
violets grew above those closed eyes, and
that only dirges were the husband’s wel
come home.
Ah me, can gold pay for the wasted
wealth of the heart? Can the gleam of
ge.ns shine out of memory the tears that
6parkle on the eyes we love, or velvet
spreads, enwrought with gold and pearl,
warm us like the clasp of clinging arms
which hold us to a heart that beats for us
onlyl
Mrs, Stowe in England.— VVe can by no
means commend the precedent which Pro
fessor Stowe has set to English husbands by
bringing his wife to be exhibited on plat
forms as an object of public flattery. Long
may it be before an English authoress is in
duced to prefer so dangerous and equivocal
a gratification to the approbation of her rea
ders, the love of her friends, and the ap
plause of her own heart. Long, very long,
may it be before an Englishwoman is persua
ded to parade in foreign lands the spectacle
of her own merits and her country’s shame.
We ate aware that the customs and opin
ions of American society on these points are
very different from ours,and that an ovation
of this kind would not be a novelty in that
country. But it is a novelty in ours,and we
must say, most emphatically, that we wish
it may remain so—London Morning Chron*
ic/e.
Sultan of Turkey.—Bayard Taylor gives
the following interesting description of the
Sultan of Turkey:—“Sultan Abdut-Medjid
is a man about thirty, though he looks older.
He has a mild, amiable, weak face, dark
eyes, a prominent nose, and short, dark-
the lightning, which played on the corner through the body, or a bullet thro’ the
of the pulpit, “’Tis a glance from theangiy ■ thorax of his antagonist; but might he nol
eye of Jehovah! Hark!” continued he,
raising his finger in a listening attitude. a9
the distant thunder grew louder and louder,
and broke in a tremendous crash over the
building. “It was the voice of the Almighty
as he passed by in his anger!”
As the sound died away, he covered his
face with his hands, and knelt beside his
pulpit, apparently lost in inward and intense
prayer. The storm passed rapidly away,
and the sun bursting forth in his might,
threw across the heavens a magnificent
arch of peace Rising, and pointing to the
beautiful object, he exclaimed, “Look upon
the rainbow, and praise him that made it.
Very beautiful it is in the brightness there
of. It compasseth the heavens about with
glory; and the hands of the Most High have
bended it.”
The effect wa9 astonishing. Even Som
erville shaded his eyes when he pointed to
the lightning and knelt as he listened to the
approaching thunder, while the deep sensi
bility of Grace, and the thoughtless vivacity
of Lucretia, yielded to the powerful excite
ment of an unrestrained burst of tears.
“Who could resist such eloquence?” said
Lucretia, as they mingled with the depart
ing throng.—Miss Francis.
There exists in human nature a disposi
tion to murmur at the disappointments and
calamities incident to it, rather than ac-
knowldege with gratitude the blessings by
which they are more than counter-bal
anced.
feel quite as elated, and more consoled, on
having put his adversary “into a bag?”
One of Maxwell’s Anecdotes of Welling
ton.— None told more telling tales of Wel
lington. but they are untellable in prin',
from the impossibility of communicating the
manner, the look the brogue, and bearing
of the narrator, who almost equalled his
friend and compa'riot Love, in the recita
tions. One of the m>st admired anecdotes
of this class, but chiefly from his mode of
telling it, was to the effect that during the
seige of Burgos, one of the Irish regiments,
which was supposed not to have behaved
with its accustomed daring, greatly to the
displeasure of Wellington, asked for the
privilege of leading the assault next day, so
as to wire out the anger of their command
er which they felt he undeserved. The re
quest was complied with, and the Hiberni
ans stormed the walls with unparalleled fu
ry, but were nearly all cut to pieces. Ri
ding over the ground soon after, the Duke
(then Sir Arthur) came to the heap of slain
and wounded where the enemy’s guns had
done most execution. “Arrah, may be yer
satisfied now, hook-nosed vagabone!” ex
claimed one of the cut up bog-trotters, who
had both his legs shot off, and thinking he
was stumped up for the future, it didn't
much matter on what footing be stood for
the present.—However, he was mistaken;
the general smiled; sent a surgeon; and the
man lived to record the event in Chelsea
Hospital till within a few yean ago.
appearance about the corners of his mouth
and eyes. But for a certain vacancy of ex
pression, he would be called a handsome
man. He sits on his horse with much ease
and grace, though there is a slight stoop in
his shoulders. His legs are crooked, owing
to which cause he appears awkward when
on his feel, though lie wears a long cloak
to conceal the deformity. Indulgence has
weakened a constitution naturally not strong
and increased that mildness which has now
become a defect in his character. He was
dressed in a style of the utmost richness
and elegance. He wore a red Turkish fez,
with an immense rosette of brilliants, and a
long, floating plume of bird-of-paradise
feathers. The diamond in the centre of the
rosette is of unusual size; it was picked up
some years ago in the Hippodrome, and
probably belonged to the treasury of the
Greek Emperors. The breast and collar
of his coat were one mass of diamonds,
and sparkled in the early sun with a thous
and rain bow gleams. His mantle of dark
blue cloth hung to his knees, concealing the
deformity of his legs. He wore white pan
taloons, white kid gloves and patent leather
boots, thrust into his golden stirrups..
There is nothing purer than honesty-
nothing sweeter than charity—nothing
brighter than virtue—nothing warmer than
love—and nothing more steadfast than faith.
These, united in one mind, forms the pur
est, the sweetest, the richeat, the brightest,
the holiest/and the moat steadfast bappi*