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