The Georgia journal: and independent federal register. (Savannah, Ga.) 1793-179?, December 04, 1793, Image 4

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MUSES* RETREAT. [Under this be,id will be given approved'feledions of poetry, from American and Brit'Jh authors of toe ftrft celebrity—fill, however, we Jball always find room {or original production! of native genius; every J boot of which Jhall he carefully trunjplanic i into our parterre of Parnassus. Should fome of our subscribers, of much poetic reading, here recognize the features of an old acquaintance , We trujl such incidental meeting ooill not be pro ductive of left pteafing sensations than tbofe which accompanied the frjl interview .] LINES TO CONTENT. Hail Content, pure fount of plcaiure ! Sweetest bliss we mortals find; Come, thou dear, thou precious treasure, Gently l'ootli my anxious mind ! haireft miniature of heaven ! Spark etherial from above! I.et thy sweets, profufelv givefi, j Still my joy, my blcfiing prove. ,1 Cherub, come with all tHy graces, U Ever in tiiy bosom reign! A Riches, honours, titles, places, JP Arc, without thee, care and pain. N But with thee, the nieanefl rtliiori, y Humble weeds, and horrtely fare, Still afford the confolaiion, That we are a Father' s care. l Corric, tHdti fdurte of purcfl pleasure ! y Come, thou furrow-foothiqg power! \\ \ ■Shed thy influence, without nieafure, \J Rain thy joys a ceafclcfs fliowcr. ASIM IL E. \ The loflgeft life is but a winter’s day ; tome break their fnfts, and then depart at/ayy Others will dine, and then depart fuli fed; hCj The longcft age, but sups, and goes to bed. o<e3>o.oa>o<s>c— v EPIG RA M. \\J Chloe declares, that tho’ my heart \ \ Trembles its passion to impart, \ r Her piercing eyes can view it: ‘She fays, I ltiVc her—’t would affedt her V Shou’d I presume to contradidt her; VV* But hang me if I knew it ! jV\. EPITAPH, OH A PARIS!! CLERK. Here lies, within this tomb, so calm, Old Giles : pray found his knell; Who thought no song was like a pfaint, No music like a hell. <gs ag- a cr, <es>j'M <n ■ MISCELLANEOUS REPOSITORY [This department of our print will befup plied with such essays (moral, political, philofopbical, life. tsv.; as do ttot, ffriAly {{foaling, come under the denomination of news; but which, nevertheless , form no inconfderable portion of the materials of a well-regulated newfp.per, and equally afford in formation, infraction, and amusement, to varioits clajfet of readerst—Extra fit from new publica tions, with bis orient and biographical anecdotes, and pieces of wit, humour, and pleasantry, nvill also contribute to enrich tbit part of our miscellany, . A greater or lesser proportion of our paoer Will be devoted to the MISCELI.AN ECUS REPOSI TORY, according to the infux or dearth of foreign and da me flic intelligence .] SINGULAR ANECDOTE OF THE CELEBRATED ABBE PREFOST. RELATED BY HIMSELF. The character of every man is governed by eircumftanccs ; and wc may often observe, that one incident alone, especially at that period of juvenile impressions when the foul is yet un blunted by a proniifeuousintercourfe with the world, thaH give the law to our ideas, if not to our actions, ever after. Os this truth, which, after all, is but one of the many proofs which philosophy has to ad duce, of the intimate connection of mind with matter , we have a fli iking inftancc in the gentle man who forms the fuhject of the present memoir, and who, not a little diltinguilhed in the circles of belles Litres in Europe, is particularly admired for the graces, charming, however gloomy, with which, as a prnfeffed novelif, tic has repeatedly enriched the regions of fentiment and moral ftilien. One evening,’ as he was at supper with a few intimate friends, men of letters like him felf, the conversation insensibly turned upon #he morals of the people ; and in the course of a desultory comment on this topic, one of the company took occasion to ohferve, that no man, however benevolent his difpolttion, or inoffenfive his manners, could engage that he would never be hinifelf fubjedted to the capital punifhmcnt of a criminal. “ Right (cried the Abbe Prevoft) ; with truth too might you have added, fir, it would be equally presumptuous in him to allege, that he would never merit likewise that punilli ment.” To this dodfrine, however, he could ob tain no votaries. “ Well, gentlemen (resumed the Abbe) it matters not whether you are disposed to believe or disbelieve my pofttion ; but (fill 1 scruple not to maintain, that even with a dis pofttion tile mb ft benevolent , and manners the inoft inoffenfive, as our friend here has expressed him felf, a man may fink into ah abyss of guilt from which in this world he can never he extricated,, and for which he lhail hinifelf acknowledge that the punifhmen't of a holier would be but an imperfedt atonement.” Here the company, with looks of aftontffi mental such language from the Abbe Prevoft, declared with one voice, that he talked of an impoffbility, or, at I'eaft, of what barely came within the line of being possible. The Abbe, however, true to his text, thus proceeded : “ Come, gchtlemeh, we are all friends, and relying on your diferetion, I will furnifli you with a lamentable proof, in my own person, ol the truth of Svhat I aflert.—But, firft, let nic ask, does any perfen entertain the fnialleft suspicion concerning my integrity, my honour, my abhorrence of vice in every fliape ?” “ Oh ! by no means! (exclaimed every gentleman in the room) —We are all convinced that a better man breathes not than the Abbe Prevoft.” “ But there breathe, I hope, millions and millions more innocent (returned he.) —Alas ! what guilt can exceed that of a parricide ? —Yet atn / the very wretch I name.—Yes. gentle men, ftrange.as it may appear, in me you be hold the unhappy murderer of a beloved father !” Even after this solemn exordium, the com pany knew not what to think, unless that, dis posed to be gravely jocular, he had a mind to play upon thgir credulity , and to make a mock of their feelings. With one accord, however, they begged of bjm to relate his story ; and accordingly, without further ceremony or interruption, lie thus briefly unfolded it : “ Hardly, said lie, had I quitted the university, when, visiting daily a little girt in the neigh bourhood, of rhy own age, I became fond of her to diftradlion. Equally enraptured was her teiiderncls for me; nor was it long before, unable to reptefs those fal’cinating impulfesof nature which our cruel stars denied us the liberty of fandtifying by marriage, we indulged ourselves in all the stolen sweets of a com merce, which however guiltless under circum stances like ours, the knavery of religion has for ages taught us to be criminal in all cases. 1“ Be this as it may, the confcquence of our clandestine iiitercourfe was, that (lie became pregnant ; a circumstance wlqch, far from cooling my afledfions, served to inflame them; and rivet my heart more firmly than ever to that of an amiable innocent, who,in yielding to me her love, had facrificed to me also her honour.—Every minute of abfctice from her was now a minute of misery to me ; and l seemed to exist hut in proportion as I had op. portunities of evincing, in her dear presence, the unalterable fervour of a palfion pure as if was unbounded. “ My relations, fhcanwhile, were daily com plaining of my idleness, and urging me to fix upon feme line of employment in wiiich, jufti fving the fond expectations of a worthy family; f might eftablilh myfelf for life in a Hate of honourable independence. But every employ ment 1 disdained which had not for its object the care of my beloved girl; nor did I know an ambition beyond the heart-soothing one of pleasing and being plealed by her. “ Matters, however, remained not long in this state of tranquility ; and the busy demon of lcandal having under the malk of friend fliip, communicated to my father the news of my amour, he, one day r —fatal accident!—fur prifed me in the arms of my mistress, who, by this time, was within two or three months of her delivery. —With a look that denounced vengeance upon us both,he bitterly upbraided her for her guilty connexion with his l'on ; and, treating her as a common fedudlrefs, he even scrupled not to accuse her of being the base, the contaminated source of ruin to all his hopes. “ Thunderstruck at the fight of a father whom l knew it impossible for me to appease, I trembled every joint ; and at the found of his voice, ready to fink into the earth with confufion, I found myfelf literally fpeechltfs. Not so the hapless girl. She, with an anima tion which confeious innocence alone could inspire, juftified herfelf, and with streaming eyes, vindicated me.—Vain, however, were all her tears, her sighs, her entreaties; and if they produced an effedt at all, it was that of adding fuel to the fire which already raged in the bosom of an incensed parent, and which it was no longer in the power of nature, much less of reason, to extinguish. “ At length he so far forgot himfelf as to strike her ; and a fcuflle ensuing from my ’at tempts to shield her from his violence, the re ceived from him a kick upon the stomach, which threw her senseless upon the floor “ I was now perfectly frantic ; and in the delirium of my rage, darting at my father, 1 drove him headlong over the ftaircale—The confcquence—Heavens ! that I lhould live to relate it ! The consequence was, that his skull being fraCtured by the fall, he expired the fame evening ; though not without declaring, in the presence of a multitude of witnesses, that he owed his untimely death to accident, and not without breathing forth at the fame time a fervent benediction on his son, the very wretch who had been his unnatural destroyer. “ Every suspicion of murder being thus done away, he was interred without further en quiry ; and thus was I, through an exertion of generosity and tendernels.of which few parents perhaps would be capable at so dreadful a crifis ;—thus was I, gentlemen, exempted from the ignominy and horror of terminating my exifteuce upon a gibbet • Yet was 1 not ex empted by it from feeling, in its utmost extent the enormity of my crime. His dying kind nefstome, on the contrary, served but to furnilh frefh flings to my remorse; and at length, torn with all the pangs that can con l'ume a wretch confeious that he is unworthy to live, yet confeious also that lie is unft to die, 1 determined to hide my sorrows from the world in the recedes of fome eloifter, gloomy as my own diftraCted foul. “ Hence it was that I came to embrace the order of Clugny ; and perhaps it is to this cir cumstance of irreparable guilt in my early yO*nh, that, driven from the natural bias of my genius, 1 atn indebted for thole fit nations of terror, for those events of bloodlhed, which, heightened with all the colouring of mifanfhro pic gloom, have so long, and indeed so de lervedly, been pronounced the characteristics of my novels.” Here the Abbe cl'ofed his narrative of woe, leaving the company to make their own re refleClions upon it. — In thele, as it may well beluppoled, they difeovered a mixture of pity and horror ; sensations to which they would have given a more decided expretlion, howe ver, could they have been convinced of the truth of what he had lo pathetically related. In fine, the general opinion still was, that the whole of the Abbe’s adventure deserved to be confidcred but as a mere incident, which he had planned for fome future novel or romance, and of Which, by previously relating it as art affair of his own, he was desirous to alcertain theeffcdl it would produce upon the sensibility of a set of enlightened readers. We are inclined to think, however, that whether it was an adventure of imagination, it exhibited a icene of which no man would with to appear the hero ; and certain it is that the Abbe himfelf, though repeatedly queftioncil concerning the authenticity of his story after wards, still persisted in declaring every sylla ble of it to be a melancholy truth, and no fiction. —o3‘C'®-0-@v O—• filial affection in a bear. IROM BARTRAIi’s TRAVEL*. When travelling on the East coast of the isthmus of Florida, afeending the South Mui quitoe river, in a Canoe, we observed numbers of deer and bears, near the banks, and on the i(lands of the river ; the bears were feeding on the fruit of the dwarf creeping cKamerops (this fruit is of the form and fixe of dates, and are delicious and nourishing food :) we law eleven bears in the course of the day, they, seemed no way furprieed or affrighted at the light of us; in the evening my hunter, who was an excellent nlarkfman, said that he would (hoot one of them, for the fake of the ikin and oil, for we had plenty and variety of provision? in our bark. We accordingly,on fight ol two of them, planned our approaches, as artfully as polfible, by crofting over to the opposite shore, in order to get under cover of a small island ; this we cauiioufly coasted round, to a point, which we apprehended would take us within (hot of the bears; here finding ourselves at too great a distance from them, and dis covering that we mud openly show ourselves, we had no other alternative to effect our pur pose, but making oblique approaches; we gained gradually on our prey by this artifice, without their noticing us ; finding ourselves, near enough, the hunter fired, and laid the largest dead on the spot, where {lie flood, when presently the other, not seeming the least moved ; at the report of otlr piece, ap proached the dead body, smelled, and pawed it and appearing in agony, fell to weeping and looking upwards, then towards us, and cried out like a child. Whilst our boat ap proached very near, the hunter was loading his rifle in order to lhoot the survivor, which was a young cub, and the slain fuppoft and to he the dam ; the continual cries of this afßitfted child, bereft of its parent, affedled me very sensibly ; 1 was moved with compassion, and charging myfelf as if acceflary to what now appeared to be a cruel murder, I endeavoured to prevail on the hunter to favc its live, but to no effeift ! for by habit he had become in lenfible to compassion towards the brute crea* tion ; being now within a few yards of the harmless devoted vi&im, he fired, and laid it dead, upon the body of the dam. —O NATURAL HIS TORY OF THE MOCCASIN SNAKE . The moccasin snake is a large and horrid serpent to all appearance, and there are very terrifying ftorics related of him by the inha bitants of the southern states, where they greatly abound, particularly in East Florida : that their bite is always iqfurable, the flefli for a considerable space about the wound rot ting to the bone, which then becomes carious, and a general mortification ensues, which in fallibly destroys the patient; the members of the body rotting and dying by piecemeal, and that there is no remedy to prevent a lingering miferahle death but by immediately cutting away the flefli to the bone, for fome distance round about the wound. In shape and pro portion of parts they much refcmble the rattle snake, and are marked or clouded much after the fame manner, but their colours more dull and obfeure ; and in their disposition seem to agree with that dreaded reptile, being flow of progression, and throw themselves in a spiral coil, ready for a blow when attacked. They have one peculiar quality, which is this, when diicovered, and observing their enemy to take notice of them, after throwing themselves in a coil,they gradually raise th*ir upper mandible, orjaw, until it falls back nearly touching their neck, at the fame time slowly vibrating their long purple forked, tongue, their crooked poilonout fangs directed right at you, give> the creature a moft terrifying appearance. -They are from three to four and even five feet in length, and as thick as a man’s leg ; they ar; not numerous, yet too common. And a fufficicnt terror to the milcrable naked slaves, who are compelled to labour in the swamps and low lands where they only abound. CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENT. CIRCULATED IN CHESTER (ENGLAND). Peter Story, farrier, takes this method so ac quaint the public, that providing he is cncou* raged by apv number of supportable gentle men, &c. so far as iop guineas, that he defign* to publifli a small BOOK, which will be a moft elegant inftrudlor for farriery, &c. as un doubtedly, according to his deserving cha radter, may prove very beneficial, arid worth fome millions of pounds to the inhabitants of Great Britain in general, and the citv of Chef* ter in particular, where he now intends to fettle. He infallibly cures the following distempers, viz. ulcers upon any part of the human body, excepting the vocal part; itch, without the least danger, &c. the prick of a thorn, wild warts upon horses, &c. the pole evil, qniter borie, hftiila, brokenbone, glanders, bloody fpaven, ringbone, mifbleeding in the neck, lameness in the hoofs, &c. ulcers inftde and outside, guielding and nicking in a very fafe way of recovery, that all the hair of the tail* will be secured, destroying of rats very punctu ally deferfbed, the bite of a mad dog, and manching i all the above cures may be done, if not inftde, between the expence,of one far thing and fixpcnce. N. B. That, if any of his directions may be judged by any fuftkient majority to be defraudable, he’ll Differ being jibbetted alive. N B. That the said Peter Story was brought up to the abovementloned farriery from his youth : he lived three years as foreman to the moft noted mr. Dick Bevin, late of the Bridge ftreet, Clieftef, deceased, who has been for series of years a chief farrier, Under the com mand of seven regiments of horse; at length he grew fat and gouty, so that he was dilabled from his profeflion, and in the mean while the laid Peter Story, owing to a great practice, improved himfelf incompaiably, and now be ing his own master these twenty-five years ago, he has ftiidied upon several articles of his own invention, which in general proves moft, effec tual. Any gentleman, See. who (hall favour him with iheii.- cuffoir., .flic. 11 he m..a acknowledged by their moft devoted humble servant, Peter Story, at Glafeod, near St. Gearge, upon the great turnpike road from Loudon to Holyhead. —o<apo<s*o<o— GOOD AND BAD. Two friends who had not seen each other for a long while, met one day by accident.— How do you do, fays one ? “ So so,” replied the other; “ and yet 1 was married since you and I were together.”—That is good news.— li Not very good, for it was my lot tochul'e a termagant.”—lt is a pity —“ I hardly think it so, for she brought me two thousand pounds.—“ Well there is comfort.—“ Not much, for with her fortune I purchased a quantity of flieep, and they are all dead of the rot ” —That is indeed diftrefting.—“ Not so diftreflingas you may imagine, for by the sale of their lkins, I got more than the iheep cost me.”—ln that case you are indemnified.*— “ By no means, for my house and all my money have been destroyed by fire.—Alas, this was a dreadful misfortune !—“ Faith not so dreadful, for my termagant wife and my house were burnt together.” ANECDOTE. CaptainChriftie, an Irifli officer, who served with considerable credit in America, had the misfortune to be dreadfully wounded in one of the battles here. As he lay on the ground, an unfortunate soldier, who was near him, and was also much wounded, made a terrible howling, when the captain exclaimed, “ D—a your eyes, what do you make such a noifefor; do you think nobody is killed but yourfelf f” —o<o o^o— THE FORGETFUL MAN. A gentleman of Angiers, who did not trust to his memory, and wrote down all that he was to do, wrote down in his “ Memorandum, that / mus be married when I come to “lours.” —o<a*o<@o-o BON MO T. As two clergymen were riding over Bo (ton* neck, when they approached the gallows, one pointing to it, said to the other, “ What would be your unhappy situation, should jus tice now take place?”—“ Indeed, fir,” said the Other, “ I should be obliged to ride to Boson alone.” —o<o<@K>ao— BULL-. A young Irishman, who had evinced great bravery at the siege of Valenciennes, concludes one of his letters to his friends thus : “ If an officer’s finger is fcratched.it is called a wound; if my head was fliot off, it would be only the fame; but if I survived, I should contradict them.”