Georgia times and state right's advocate. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1833-1834, June 12, 1833, Image 1

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vol. l—mo. aa. OEOBOIA toes AND jyjj jjaasHtf’a n I he published unce a week, in the 1 „ f MiWgeville, at THREE DOL- L „ er annum, if paid in advance, or s pOLEARS, at the end of the year. \dvtrtisements inserted at the usual , sent without a specified num | ,psertiuns, will l.e punished until pd out and charged accordingly. Sales . by Administrators, Executors, or lims. required, by law, to be held “jist Tuesday in the month between 0 f ten in the forenoon and three liieruoou, at the court-house in the i„ which the property is situate, lot' these sales must be given in a cratette sixty days previous to the of”sale. Sales of negroes must be at ~ motion, on the first Tuesday of the i between the usual hours of sale, at lace of public sales in the county e t), e letters Testamentary, of Admin on or Guardianship, may have been ed first giving sixty days notice there , one of the public gazettes es this and at the door of the court-house, \ such sales are to be held. Notice he sale of Personal Property must be in like manner, forty days previous davof sale. Notice to the Debtors editors of an Estate must be pub i for forty days. Notice that appli- I *ill be made to the Court of Ordi brleave to sell Land, must be publish irmonths. Notice for leave o sell oesniust he published for four months . nnv order absolute shall be made on by th* Court just published me Times & State Right's Advocate Office, Milledgeville. THE PHIZES DRAWN IN TIIS \LAHD Y, OF THE nd ld quality, and of the 3d having improvements; WITH THE IHERVS N V M E A SDR USIOENCE. mpiledfrom the Numerical Hooks, near,Tut null! inn lion of thr 111 by tils fonimlssioncra. Price Three Dollars. ? interest w hich is manifested through hf State, to be possessed of informa • ] relating to the interesting section j nas the Cherokee country, and the i rtance of all information that can be led in regard to its geographical post-; ■the quality of its land —its bounda-; water courses, roads, Ac. has induced j tiblishers hereof, at the ontreatips of j persons, by industrious application, ! t nsiderable expense, to undertake | uUication of this little volume. They altered with the hope, that its useful- ! will lie appreciated by all who are in-! ted in the acquirement of this impor- j portion of our State. The publishers ; ssured that they do not over estimate ; affirmation it imparts, and the great 1 mence and facility, by which it can quirrd; and, allho’ there may be in-j acics in its descriptive character, (from ossibility that entirely correct returns notjlways made by the District Sur s) yet. as it is the most correct that e obtained, without a personal know ofeverylot, it must be considered the information the nature of the case ad ot. Os one fact, the reader isguaran that this Book wears a correct and and stamp —as it was copied with ac y from the Numerical Books, now of n the Executive Department of the i a hrr those Books were thoroughly ined by the late Land Lottery Oom loners. The accuracy and fidelity of uality of each lot, was ascertained, hv ial reference to the field notes of the ict Surveyors, and their detached plats, tesedesiderata, may he stated, that the of each lot, in its district and section, e m drawn,in whose captains district, n what county, are equally, and entire ■iemt'.c. It must he a desirable object th the drawer, and the purchaser, to aßook of the kind we herewith sub -1 the public; as it embodies in a corn ed and in a portable form, all the me ida information which both purchaser seller could have, without occular long? or from information dearly pur ni.il procured otherwise, e Book will contain a Numerical list of slots drawn in the different sections of .<md Lottery, excepting such a? are led third quality ; and if any of the quality h as an y improvement on it, ■°* a ' s o w ill he embraced. To each •ill be affixed a letter n, A, or r, which "ates th« quality; a for the first, b lewconrf, and c lor the third ; and have attached the Nos. of acres improved— 'lauer’s lame, the district in w hich #te in as fortunato drawer, and the J in which he resides, and the No. of 'hand the district and section in which wated. Whenever a district is not wnted particularly, the reader will lf| at all the lots in said district, (as ! otlt and other districts,) are returned quality—X o each district its boundary "I. with some brief,but applicable re- * publishers forbear any further exor /'this, their “ little effort” —prcfering ‘'merit and usefulness shall speak audibly its own praise. Such as it "on H hoped.it will be pronounced is rt'specUully dedicated to the peo beorgia, by , THE PUBLISHERS. '“ rs . (postage paid,) enclosing Three Is i will be promptly attended to. Ad " requested to announce that Ma|. ’’ILLIAM W. CARNES of Mil "l I > M » candidate for Comptroller R ;„ J 1 die next election. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY NARNADIIKE J. SLADE, AT THREE DOLLARS PER ANN INI. POETRY. THE FACTORY GIRL’S EAST RAY. “ Four or five months hack there was a girl of a poor man’s that I was called to visit; it was poorly ; it had attended a mill, and 1 was obliged to relieve the father in the course of my office (that of assistant overseer of the poor,) in consequence of the bad health of the child ; by-aud-by it went back to its work again ; and one day he came to me with tears in hia eyes. I said, ‘What is the matter Thomas?’ He said, ‘mv little girl is dead.’ 1 said, ‘wlien did she die ?’ He said, ‘in the night; and what breaks iny heart is this, she went to the mill in the morn ing, she was not aide to do her work, and a little boy said he would assist her if she would give hint a penny but at night when the child went home, perhaps about a quarter of a mile, it fell down several times through ex haustion, till fit length it reached its father’s door with difficulty, and it never spoke audi : Lily afterwards; it died in the night. I judg ed she might be 10 years old.”— Minutes of Evidence, before a Committee of the House of Commons, jmge 310. 'Twas on a winter morning, The weather wet and mild, Three hours before the dawning The father roused his child ; Her daily morsel bringing, The darksome room he paced. And cried, “The bell is ringing, My hapless darling haste “ Father, l’m up, but weary, I scarce can reach the door, And long the way and dreary, 0 carry me once more ! To help us we’ve no mother, You’ve no employment nigh, They killed my little brother, Like him I’ll work—and die! Her wasted form seem’d nothing, The load was at his heart; The sufferer he kept soothing Till at the mill they part. The overlooker met her, As to her frame she crept. And with his thong he beat her, And cursed her ?s she wept. Alas! what hours of sorrow Made up her latest day ; Those hours that brought no morrow, Tooslotvly passed away; It seem’d, as she grew weaker. The threads the oftener broke. The rapid wheel ran quicker, And heavier fell the stroke. The sun had long descended, But night brought no repose; Her day began and ended, As cruel tyrants chose. At length a little neighbor Her half-penny she paid, To take her last hour’s labor, While by her frame she laid. At last the engine ceasing, The captives homeward rush’d: She thought her strength increasing— ’Twas hope her spirits flush’d . She left, but oft she tarried, Site fell and rose no more, Till by her comrades carried, She reach’d her father’s door. All night with tortured feeling, He watched his speechless child; And close beside her kneeling, She knew him not nor smil’d. Again the Factory’s ringing Her last perceptions tried; When from her straw-bed springing, “ ’ Tis time she shrieked and died! That night a chariot pass’d her, While on the ground she lay ; The daughters of her master An evening visit pay— Their tender hearts were sighing As negro’s wrongs were told While the white stare was dying. Who gain'd their father's gold, FROM THE CHARLESTON MERCURY. Mr. Editor —Observing in that delightful pub lication, entitled “ The Rose Bud," of Saturday last, a piece of Prose, written by a child of twelve years old, on a common, but the dearest of all i subjects, “ Home," I Bend you the production of a youthful Poetess, who can count but the same number of years. By publishing them, you will oblige, yours, A. ON IIONE. When from my native walks I stray, From socialjoys more dear than they, How oft my heart reviews the way That leads from home. When anxious fears the mind assail. When cares perplex and pleasures fail, Then to my heart how dear the tale, Thar speaks of home. When day’s intrusive cares are o’er. And evening comes with soothing pow’r, How sweet to employ the pensive hour, In thoughts of home! To think of all to us endear’d. Os past delights and friends rever’d, And all the social joys that cheered The hours at home. Then fancy lends her brightest ray, And hope illumes the future day, That calls me from these scenes away To dearer home. Oh then to hear with pleasure mild. My parents’blessing on their child, And listen to the accents mild, That welcome home! So when life’s busy day is o’er, And grief assails the heart no more, So shall wc hail the poaccful shore Os our eternal home. May He, who gives our little day, Support us through life’s devious way, And then the parted soul convey To Heaven’s peaceful home. S. A. B. “V\s NEPER DESPAIR OF ANY THWO — TrUTB BEIN6 OUR OLID*, WE SHALA SAIL CNDER HER AC3PICES."— HoRACR. GEORGIA TIMES / (MISCELLANEOUS. MALTESE ANCHOVIES. Some few years ago, an Irish gentleman at tached to a regiment in the garrison of Mal ta, procured leave of absence and returned to England to enjoy for a season the society :of his friends. As is the custom of travel | lers, he was fond of relating the wo.-Jers he had seen. Among other things he one day, in a public coffee room, expatiated on Die excellence of the military mess at Malta. ‘ But,’ said he 4 as for the anchovies —by the powers, there’s nothing to be seen like them in the known world!’ ‘ Why, that is a bold assertion,’said a gen tleman present, ‘for 1 think England can boast of that article in as great perfection as any country, if not greater. ‘ My dear sir,' replied the officer, You’ll pardon me for saying your opinion is founded on sheer ignorance of the fact; —but had you seen the fruitgrowing so large and beau tiful as 1 have seen it many’s the day—’ ‘ The fruit growing so large and beautiful— oh ! my good sir, impossible.!’ ‘ Pray, sir, do you doubt the word of a ' gentleman ? ‘ I doubt the fact, sir, said the gentleman, ‘ which it is impossible to believe.” ‘ Then by the powers, you only display j your own want of understanding, for I have seen the anchovies growing upon the trees in the governor’s garden, with my own eyes ttiany’s the hundred times; besides, sir, the , whole walls of the fortress are covered with them, as my brother officers can testify.’ * Upon my honor, said the gentlemen you must be mistaken, I cannot believe it.’ ‘ As much as to say, sir, in plain terms, that 1 have told a lie I—say the word, sir, and I am satisfied.’ ‘ Neither you sir,’returned the gentleman, i nor any other man, shall compel me to say that I believe that which is by nature impos sible.’ * Impossible,’ sir! —have I not told you ; that I have seen it with my own eyes, and do you doubt the word of an officer and a gen- ! tleman ? Sir, 1 am an Irishman, and a« Irish-j man’s honor is dearer to him than his life ; and Cornelius O’Flanagan will not lake the lie from any man, even if it was true ; therefore I trust that every gentleman present will see that 1 have sufficient cause for requiring sa tisfaction.’ ‘ Satisfaction ! pooh ! pooh ! mere differ-1 cnce of opinion!’ exclaimed several of the j party. * 1 beg your pardon, gentlemen, returned j the officer : ‘ no difference of opinion at all, j he has given me the lie , so I bid you, gen- j tlemen, a goodnight; and, sir, there’s my ’ card, which I shall be happy to exchange for yours.’ The Englishman of course gave his ad dress, and the next day the parties met, at tended by their seconds; they fired, and O’- Flanagan’s shot took effect in the fleshy part of his opponent’s thigh which made the lat ter jump about a foot from the ground and fell flat on his back, where he lay for a few seconds in agony, kicking his heels. This being observed by the officer’s se cond, you have hit your man, O’Flanagan, that is certain—l think not dangerously, how ever, for see what capers he cuts.’ * Capers! capers! exclaimedO’Fianagan, *Oh ! by the powers! what have I done ? what a dreadful mistake ! —and running up to his wounded antagonist he took his.hand, pressing it eagerly thus addressed him : ‘ My dear friend if ye’re kilt, I ask your pardon in I this world and the next, for 1 made a devil of Ia mistake; it was cipers that I saw growing upon the trees at Malta,‘and not anchovies at ; all!’ The wounded man, smiling at this ludic rous explanation and apology, said ‘ My good fellow 1 wish you had thought of that a little sooner; I dont think you have quite killed I tnc ; but 1 hope you will remember the dif ference between anchovies and capers as long as you live.— N. Y. Constellation FROM THE RALEIGH STAR. Tho variety found in tho advertisement dc ! partment of a newspaper would probably fail of its effect to please all, were tiiey tho only contents. There arc thousands who are in different to a change of situation ; who are confined to business, and cannot leave it: who I are gormandizing a breakfast, and loath inc.l. icine; who are blooming and want no cosmct I ics; who are cheerful, ..nd want no amuse* ! incuts; who are charitai.ic, and want no pulls | and quackery to prompt meir benevolence,yet I who want all that the -ost of a newspaper supplies, that dear and t xquisite food, news, the daily bread of curiosity, and the panacea of all the evils arising .rotn dulncss and si lence; the soveicign specific that applies to every man’s case. This part of a paper, though I have consid ered it last, is generally consulted first; and what can equal thc'glail'Omc iniquisitiveness that appears in the eye, when it first gently ] rolls over the columns of a fresh newspaper ! : Such is ths variety of this department, and such the attachment ot every man to his fa vorite pursuit, that a tolerable guess may be formed of wbat a man is, by attending to what lie first reaJs in a paper. The steady politician, indeed, is a general reader. He can find out a political allusion in every paragraph. In every proposition made by a member of Congress, he sets niojt clearly either a good jor evil design in the mover; and should two MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, JUNE >l, 1833. distinguished leaders of different parties a gree on any project for settling a controversy which may happen to exist between two great interests, he at once cries out “base coali tion,” and deolarei this combination between I base individuals is not because they love | peace or care for the evil, that the parties complaining suffer, but because they either j have been disappointed men themselves in seeking soma place of honor or profit, and wish to conciliate these interests, that they may turn the measure td the benefit of their own popularity, or else their envy would not permit them to suffer another party distinct from themselves to have the credit of sugges ting the means whereby these two conflict* ing interests are reconciled. The powers and the duties of the President, as defined by the Constitution, is a favorite theme for our enlightened politicians, and upon which they often expatiate at wonderful length. I must, however, say their opinions on this subject aare as various as the colours of the camclcon, and as contradictory as if they were to sa/, that he (the President) can and lie can’t, he shall and he shan’t, he will and he won’t, he’ll be d—md if he does, and he’ll be ! d—md if he don’t. But other readers confine themselves to their favorite articles. The ! city news delights the man of fashion ; the 1 the ladies arc anxious for marriages, because they ma - know the parties; the young and old ce for the fashionable tattle of marria ges, divorces, duels, new dresses, elopements, and other articles of the amusing kind ; while the grave siegnor casts a solemn glance at the price of stocks, wishes he had bought in, or hopies he soon inay be able to sell out. : And there are a pretty numerous class, to [ whom roberies burglaries, murders, and picking of pockets, affords a considerable 1 gratification —in the detail. A newspaper being thus perused by every 1 man according to his taste, the day is begun with a fund for conversation. The wheels are again set agoing, and the dullest has something to say,or some remark to make on what he lias read. If newspapers, then, are. undervalued, it is either because they are common and cheap; for we know that things which are common and cheap are always un dervalued. Or perhaps the reason is, they f arc expiectcd as constantly as the return of day and night, and therefore we set the less value on them. To appreciate their true value, therefore,! wc have only to suppose they w ere to be dis continued for a month, or even for a week. ; I turn with horror from the frightful idea! I deprecate such a shock to the circulation of table-talk. It would operate more unfavour- 1 ably than the gloom of November is said to opierate on the nerves of Englishmen; and as-: ter such a suspense of news, lam afraid the papers woald contain nothing but accounts of sudden deaths which had happened in the in- , | terval, with the deliberate opinions of the coroner’s jury :“Died of the blues, occasioned for want of intelligence!” To cone ude. In the words of Dr. John son, let uspraisc newspapers.—Says he,One 1 of the principal amusements of the idler is to read the work of those minute historians, the writers of news, who, though contemptuously overlooked by the composers of bulky vol umes, arc vet necessary in nations, where much wealth produces much leisure, and one part of the people has nothing to do but to observe the lives and fortunes of tho other.” EUPHANOII. From the London Literary Gazette. THE CONSCRIPT AND HIS DOG. “The Sergeant and the priest advanced : the two frii nds embraced and kissed each other; Reaumer retired to a spot where the ] other soldier was standing; aud, kneeling on i one knee, leant his face on his hands, stillj convulsively and unconsciously grasping the' spade, as if for support; the otiicr twelve men had formed a double line, about fourteen pa ces to the front of Jean, who was between them and the embankment, his white clothed figure, thus set in relief by the dark ground beyond, presenting a clear aim to their mus-; kets. He knelt down on his right knee, rest- j ing on the other his left arm . he said in a firm voice—“l am ready.” The priest was about to bind a handkerchief about his eyes; hut he said. “No—l pray I inav he spared that: , —let me see my death ;1 am r.ot afraid of it.” The priest, after consulting the sergeant’s looks, withdrew the handkerchief. Colon re tired to the place where Reaumer and the I other soldiers were : and the priest, after hav ing received from his penitent the assurance that he died, in charity with all mankind,’ and having bestowed on him a last benediction, I and laid on his lips the kiss of Christian love, also retired on one side. Colon gave the word of command—“Prepare:”—the twelve mus kets were brought forward :—“Present — I they were levelled. The sergeant was raising his cane as the. last signal, to spare the victim | even the short pang of bearing the fatal word 11! iFire.” when RoHa, with aloud yell, sprang j to his master s side. He had been startled | from his slumber by the roll of the drum ; and, looking np at what was going on, perceived Jean left kneeling alone, and all so silent* except Reaumer’s faintly heard sobs, his in stinct seemed to tell him his master was in some danger: his whining was unheard or unlieaded ; he felt this too, and ceased it, but I made a desperate effort to break the rope that held him, which, weakened as it was by his late gnawing and tugging at it when in the out-house at Charolle, toon gave way. and as above mentioned, he sprang with a yell to hit [ master’s side. But Jean’s thoughts Were too seriously engaged to heed even Rolla: he jonly raised his right arm, and gently put the dog aside, his own mild unflinching gaze still fixed on the soldiers before him. But the dog was not checked by the movement of his master; still whining, and with his ears be seechingly laid back, he struggled hard to get nearer to him. Colon felt for Jean’s situation ' and made a sign to Reaumer, (who wondering at the jiause since the last word of command, had raised his eyes) that he should try to coax i the dog off: he did so by whistling and call j ing, hut,of course, in vain. It will be at once j seen that, though this has taken sometime in ! telling, all that passed from the of Roilu’s ar -1 rival was little more than the transaction of a : moment. Still it was a delay ; and the men were ready to fire; and Colon, not thinking the incident of sufficient weight to authorize a suspension of the execution, however tem porary, muttered,‘Great pity—the poor fel low will die too.’ He turned his face again to his men, and was about to give a signal, when he wag a second time interrupted b) hearing loud shouts from behind him, accom panied by the discharge of a park of cannon. He glanced towards the opposite hill at his back, whereon the village stood, and there he saw all was confusion and I .stle—officers galloping to and fro, and too, men forming hurriedly into a line, he hastily gave the word 1 as you were;’ for along a line of road the north east of the hill he saw a thick cloud of dust, from which quickly plunged ou; a group ot horsemen, evidently officers; the foremost not so tall as most of them, nor so graceful a rider : as many of them, thought lie sat firmly too, was recognized by Colon and his men (long before he was near enough for them to dis tinguish a single feature of his face) by Ins gray frock coat, and small flat three-cornered cocked hat. Colon gave the word of com mand; the soldiers shouldered their muskets, and prepared to salute ; and, in another min ute, Napoleon, at the head of his staff, reined up on the top of the hill. He had left the march of the grand army some legues behind, and ridden on towards Labarre, in order, with his wonted watchfulness, to take the detach ment by surprise, and sec what they were about. His eagle eve, whose glance saw eve ry thing like another’s gaze,had at once detec t'd the party on the hill, and he had ridden from the road at full speed up the slope to dis cover what the object of meeting was. a glance, too, told him that; and while he was yet returning the salute of the men and their sergeant, he said, in a voice panting af ter his hard gallop, ‘Hey, what’s this?’—a desertion?’ ‘Yes, sire,—no, sire not exactly.’ ‘What then ?’ asked Napoleon, in rather a peevish tone, his face assuming more than its usual sternness; for hardly any thing more provoked him than hesitation on the part of those he addressed.’ ‘Absence against or ders, sire,’replied Colon.’ ‘Aha! for how long ! Is that his dog?’ ‘ Yes, sire : only a few hours.’ ‘ A few hours ! Who gave this i order then !’ ‘General S —, sire.’ ‘What does the man bear?’ ‘lie is a ’ brave man, sire.’ ‘He is a Frenchman’ re* ! torted Napoleon proudly ; ‘ but is he honest, and sober, and generally obedient?’ ‘Yes, ! sire ; this is Jiis first fault.’ ‘M! how long i lias he served V ‘ Three years last March, 1 sire.’ A louder and higher toned ‘M ?’ es caped Napoleon ; and his attention was at the same moment attracted by Reaumer, ' who, a timid step had approached the ‘emperor; and kneeling on one knee, with clasped hands and broken voice, cried ' Oh ! sire, if you—if you would spare his life—he is innocent of any intention to desert—that I can’—‘Are you his brother?’ interrupted 1 the emperor. 1 No, sire,’ answered Reaumer ; j ‘ his friend—his dear friend.’ And how j know you what his intentions were ?’ He told them ine, sire : he only went last night to see his friends, & would have returned the same night,hut that 1 advised him to meet the regiment at Labalrc ; and know—’ ‘And what business hudst thou to advise a comrade in a breach of duty ? Stand back to thy ! place.’ And Reaumer retired, covered with ! shame. Napoleon beckonrd Jean to him ; he ! came, and Roiio with hint; and the latter, as tnougli understanding the power and authori ty of the man his master thus obeyed, put his fore-paws against his stirrup, and whimpered imploringly up to him. Jean looked for ai moment in the Emperor’s face, but his gaze drooped, though without quailing, bcueatli; that of the piercing large eyes that were fix-1 oil upon him. After a short pause, Napoleon 1 'asked, ‘Thine age? Lie down —down,] good dog !’ for Rollu was getting importunate. | ‘ Twenty-five years, sire,’ Jean answered.— ] * Why hast thou disobeyed orders?’ ‘1 couldn’t help it.’ ‘How dost thou mean?’ ‘ 1 was so near my friends, and so longed to see ] them, that indeed, 1 could not help it sire.’] ‘ ’Tis a strange excuse. Down ! I say, good | brute !’ but at the same moment that he said ! so, he ungloved his hand, and gave it Rolla' Uolick: then, after a short pause, added, < And thou sawest thy parents ?’ Yes, sire : i and I was returning to the regiment, when— ‘ Ah ! is this true, sergeant?’ turning to Co lon. ‘ Yes sire, tis true,’ answered he : ‘we met him about three quartets of a league front ‘ I need not have asked, though,’ interrupted Napoleon ; ‘ the man’s face looks true. ‘Thy name?’ again addressing Jean. ‘Jean Gavard, sire.—Down, Rolla! I fear he is troublesome to your highness.' Napoleon smiled—perhaps at the title—and answered, * No, no, poor Rolla, he is a tine dog. 1 shall] ' inquire into this affair, Gavard : for the present 1 respite thee.’ Jean Jrnelt on his knee, and seized the emperor’s hand to kiss it; hut Napoleon said, ‘Stay, stay, thy dog has been licking it.’ But this made no dif ference to poor Jean, who kissed it eagerly ; and when Napolean drew it away, it was wet with tears. He looked on the back of his hand a moment, and his lip* compressed them selves as lie did so. ‘They are the tear* of a brave man. sir,’ said he, turning to a young officer at hissidc, on whose features the empe ror’s side glance had caught a nascent emrio : ‘Forward!’ And at fuj) gallop the parly left the ground. Jean’s feelings at this sudden escape from death, were like those of a man wakened from a frightful dream, before hia icnses are yet enough gathered together to remember all its circumstances. Jean had little time, however, to gather them on this occasion, for Rcaumcr’s arms were in a mo ment around his neck ; and the hands of bis comrades—tho«e very hands that a minute be fore were about to deal him death—wero now gladly grasping his; and their many congratulations ou his escape ended in oue shout of‘Live the Emperor!’ <A!>- MR. COB BEIT’S OPINION OF MR. O’- CONNELL. Upon this occasion it is impossible for mo to refrain from expressing my admiration of the things done by Mr. O’Connell. I never had before an opportunity of witnessing his surprising quickness, and the irresi3tihlu force of that which drops frein his lips. His sincerity, his good humor, his zeal, his ear nestness, his willingness to sacrifice every thing for the cause of the people; for the cause of those who neverean serve him in any way whatsoever; it is only necessary to be a witness of these, to explain why it is that the people of Ireland love him, and ennfide in him, and w hy it is that he is hated and de tested by every one who has a tyrant’s heart in his body. There is another description of men, too, of wnom it is necessary to speak upon this occasion ; I mean those who are ac tuated by envy, and 1 do not here allude to a ny amongst his own countrymen, for they all seem perfectly willing to acknowledge his superior claims to the confidence of his coun try. If he hits any fault, it is that of letting the kindness of his disposition get the belter of his justice; hut this is inseparable from those other qualities which have caused him to have predominent sway over the minds of the industrious classes of his country, it is im|>ossiblc to see the conduct which i£ ob served towards him, without being convinced that his enemies are thoroughly persuaded that Ireland must have justice done her, or ho must be destroyed. If all my readers could hear the words uttered with regard to him, could see the looks accompanying those words, they would all have this conviction ; and if every man iri England could sec this sight and hear those sounds, all England with one united voice, would pray to God to protect him again.-t all his enemies. In short, without him, Ireland would be dealt with, just as the government pleased, without the opposition of any resistance at all; and, formy part, I should deem myself one of tho worst of all mankind if 1 did not lend him all the support in my power. I may not, in all cases, be exactly of his o pinion, even in matters relating to Ireland ; but seeing him beset, as 1 do, leaving out of the question the probability of my opinion not being so correct as his, it is not for mo to split hairs in such a case, to perk up opin ion in opposition to iiis, and under that pre tence leave him to he torn to pieces by his merciless foes. Last night he filled every body with astonishment at his powers, and e*. pecially at his surprising quickness. There he was, the mastiff", surrounded by that which I will not describe ; every one taking his bite, one behind, another before; and he turn ing first to one and then to the other, and lay ing them sprawling upon thr<rarth. To be able to do him justice, you must see him with 34 men only at his back ; with 350 roaring out against bitn, and with 80 to 40 lying quiet in snug silence, bursting with envy still more deadly than the open hatred of his foes. There will be reports of these debates. These reports will he as full and as correct as the circumstances will permit, lint it is not in the power of man to do jus tice, not a tenth part of the justice due to his zeal arid exertions on this occasion. For my part, Isatand looked at him with astonishment until 11 o’clock, when, finding |that there would he ro division that night, I came away. But my colleague, w hose judg. incut is not Inferior to that of any man, staid the debate out, and told me that Mr. O'Con [nell carried on the war against his foes in a manner to surprise him beyond any thing ho had ever witnessed in his life. Very often have wc seen in the English papers, and par- Ocularly in tb« Times, sneers at the Irish peo ple, for being so wrapped up and so devoted to Mr. O’Connell: they have called the peo ple deluded—faith it is no delusion ‘they know him well : they know not only hia friendship but his efficiency :thev know that he is worthy of their confidence. He has in deed, as great reward as they can heatow up on him: to sec him in the house surrounded by his sons, members of counties or great towns, he himself the member for the great mctiopolisof Ireland ; to sec hirn thus enjoy ing the groat- st glory, the most heartfelt satis faction that man can possibly enjoy, must give delight to every heart in which the base and venomous passion of envy ha3 not taken up its residence.”