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Hlje tSeorgirt lleittperttttce $ rneiuSiT. JOHN H. SEALS, HEW SERIES, VOLUME 111, £|}t Ctmptranct Crnsater. Published ©very Thursday in the year, except two. f EB3IB J Twt DoUXn per yoar ta adveec*. <xatnifc> xfinosta Cura* or Tar Nam*s, by sending the Cass, will receive the paper at .... sl36s copy. Cutm or Five Names, at 180 “ Any person sending os Five new subscribers, inelo wing the money, shall receive an extra copy one year 4>ee of cost. ADVERTISING-DIRECTORY; Bates ei Advertising: } equate, (twelve lines or lees,) first insertion, $1 60 “ Each continaance, 6® Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding si* Haes, per year, * 00 Announcing Candidates for Office, <* 00 Standing Advertisement*: pgf Advertisements not marked with the number of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged aoeordingly. pSf'tA. erchants, Druggists and others, may eontracf for advertising by the year on reasonable terms. legal Advertisements: gale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Ex- eeutors and Guardians, per square, 4 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Ex ecutors and Guardians, per square, 8 23 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25 Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm'n, 500 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guard'p, 3 25 Legal Requirements : Sales of Land and Negroes by Administrators, Exec utors or Guardians, are required, by law, to be held on the First Tuesday in the month, between the hours of tea in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court-house door of the county in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a pub lic Goantte, forty dm y* previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least ten days previous to the day of sale. Notices to Debtors and Creditors of an estate, most he published forty day*. Notioe that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary, fjr leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be pub lished weekly for (tee mouths. Citations for Letters of Administration, most be pub lished thirty days —for Dismission from Administration monthly, six months—for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Buies for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be published for four months —for compelling titles from Ex ecutors or Administrators, where a bond has been issued by the deceased Me •V <ut °f month* pa- a l wa X s be continued according to these, the legal rec’^ irem6nt8 ’ unlesß otherwise or dered. TOftW A REYNOLDS, Publisher — OFFICERS GRAND LODGE aO^JEWCHO. TERM OP OPPICE DATING PR * rtm IBST. W. D. WILLIAMS, of Oxford, £W C THOS DOUGHERTY, of Macon, O W V C WM. G. FORSYTH, of Atlanta, W Ree WM. F. ROSS, of Macon, 2 w a LEE STRICKLAND, of Griffin, GW 8 H. C. CARTER, of Calhoun, G W Chap E. M. PENDLETON, of Sparta,_OWP£— Important, if True! liSSSr* A LL NOTES & ACCOUNTS if WsfSSjff due the firm of PHELPS Sc VHHBm SEALS lor the year 1856, not paid by the 15th MARCH, will be sued INDISCRIMINATELY. Feb 18, 1858 , THE | Georgia Educational Journal, the TEACHER'S FRIEND and PUPIL’S ASSISTANT, PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN QUARTO FORM, in FORSYTH. GA. at $2 00 for one year, or $1 00 for 6 mo. Every in Georgia ought to have this paper. Address ‘Georgia Educational Journal,’ Forsyth, Ga. GEO. F, WILBURN, M. D. Editor. Feb 18, 1838 Ij’ DRS COE &. LATIMER would inform their friends and patients that one of the firm will constantly ‘remain in Gresnesboro’, and that the other will be found iu the following places at the times specified below: White Plains, from March Ist to March 14th. Mount Zion, “ “ 15th to “ 28th. Oxford, “ April 12th to April 25th. fenfield, “ A to May 9th. As thie time table will be strictly adhered to, those who eall early will be most likely to receive attention. Feb 25th, 1858 • Look-~Every body. THE undersigned having leased the STORE ROOM recently occupied by Williams Jt Lank* tors are now receiving and opening a Choice and Select STOCK of— v ‘ ULT GROCERIES A VRUITS, CANDIES, CIGAR#, v EATABLES, Ae. See. Ae. .. .• of the Citizens of Penfield and vicinity, b&33£s< “ ,bis E*‘WUhu,c, lt . W. CwiMaam .od intend ,n o.k. it to the .>“*“<’ ° f •* • times. J. M. BOWi. Penfield, Jan. sth, 1858. NEW BUSINESS. \SkyililOQ. CS3enapc&o rpHE subscriber, having no engagements, is A ready to receive any offers to sell goods or keep books for any mercantile house or houses in Georgia, or to receive any offers from capitalists in the line, who may wish an energetic man to buy and sell and attend t to the details. Any letters worthy of attention will be replied to. Address W. S. BAGBY. March 4~4t A PINT. LOT OF YELLOW IRISH-POTA xjL TOES, for planting. Call on Feb# J. M. BOWLES. rpHE FIRM OF J. M. BOWLES & CO. IS THIS A day dissolved'by mutual consent, Wm. B. Seals retiring. The business will be continued by J. M. Bowles at the same stand, where he will keep, at all times, a foul supply of Family Groceries, and will be ready and. willing to aerve his friends at very Short Pro - Jiujor the CASH. J. M. BOWLES, Feb 25 WM. B. SEALS. Georgia, greene county.—whereas Nicholas M- Jones applies for Letters of Adminis y- tration upon the estate of Jesse S. Jones, late of said eounty, deceased; These art therefore to cite and admonish, all and sin gular, th kindred and creditors of said deceased, to be and appear at the Court of Ordinary, to be held in and for aaid county, on the first Monday of April next, to ehowekus# (If any they have) why said letters should M’fih 4,1859 3®d [/ EDITRESS’ \\ I v oU><&apgkaf*anEffiLqCQ<lq JJ . By Hn, n. B. Bryan. UDMNBT. rv KA&V S. BSTiS. ‘Tie tha midnight hour, And the storm clouds lower, LUu a pall on the brow of night, And the winds go by. With s rushing cry, As though triumphing in their might . There's a sound like the roar Os waves on the shore; ‘Tie the voiee of the wind-swept pines, Like troops atund they, In martial array, Sternly braving the stormy wind*. Oh! silvery fair Through the perfumed air Falleth faintly the soft moonlight; But give me the clond, And the tempest loud. And the gloom of the rayless night. My heart beats high, As the winds sweep by. In their wild, mad revelry I shall free my soul From its old eontrol; To-night shall my spirit be free. At least for this hour, I can scorn your power—- Oh ! mocking, yet beautiful dream Your flowery ehain Ye shall weave in vain— Frailest gossamer bmd thy own. For, up and bwrj, Where the lightnings play. Fancy mounts in her reckless flight— From my watching eyes, Soft slumber flies, And my soul shall be free to-night. Thomasvills. THE HAUNTED BKVBJB. BY MABT B. BBVAN. Far down where the shadows most gloomily foil And the wizard winds ars wailing; Where the willows droop like a funeral paU, And the long, gray moss is trailing; Where no flower may bloom, and no bird may sing, But a silence broods forever. Save when the Vulture flaps his dark wing Or the gloomy death-owls shiver; Far down in this lonely valley of shade. Where the ghostly moon-beams quiver. Sullenly, sluggishly through the guide, Floweth the haunted river j Moaning like one In a troubled dream, As on its black tide floweth— And a legend wild, of this haunted stream, The way-side peasant knoweth; A story that tells of a former time When ita waves were bright and golden. And its dancing feet kept merry rhyme With the birds in the forest olden. But one night, the shuddering stars turned pals At a deed of guilt and horror; And the waning moon, in a cloudy veil. Hid her pallia face in sorrow. There was one low moan, deep and prolonged, And a voice was hushed forever— And a trusting heart, betrayed and wronged., Lay cold ‘neath the forest river, ~ And the stain that its waters still retain Is blood, and the blood ia human— And the moan that it echoes again and again, Is the cry of a dying wokirh. But the murderer fled with his erimsened hands. And no vengeful foot pursued him— And he wandered away to distant lands. And the smiles of fortune woo’d him. But the vengeance of God is just and true, And sleeping, or waking ever, A spectre, with wounds of erimson bus, Haunted his thoughts forever. Amid crowded marts, or pleasure's whirl, Though he well and bravely bore him, The faee of that wronged ana murdered girl Rose fearfully before him. And onee, at the close of a night of storm. At dawn a forest ranger Discerned on the shore, the lifeless form Os a pale and dark-haired stranger. They put baek the loeks of raven hue, Still wet with the chilly water — And a gray-haired man among them knew, The betrayer of his daughter. From his distant home, from the smiles of love. By that haunting spectre driven, He had eome at length, to this spot to prove, How true the vengeance of Heaven. He sleeps on the bank of that lonely stream. Where the breezeleaa poplars auiver— Where falleth the star-light’s pallid gleam. And mo&neth the haunted river. Thomasville. LEAVES FROM THE DIARY OF A BRIEF LESS BARRISTER. BY MARY B. BRTAN. Jfev, 80m. To-dat i a my birth-day. Twenty-one years this bright winter morning since I entered open the stageof being, and juatsix months since I went through that neseasary formula (which by the way is an egregious humbug) of admission to the bar, and obtained permission to write my name, “Thomas Jenkins, Attorney at Law.” My father intended me to be his assistant in the little form of a few hundred hereditary acres, but my mo ther was more ambitious. She was persuaded that I was the genius of the family, and felt as ; that a higher destiny awaited me. When did a determined woman fail in accomplishing her purpose!.and accordingly, my father was forced to yield, and I was sept away to gain a smattering of Latin, preparatory to the study of law. After my ad#isWM>h to the bar, Judge I^-—, who presided at the time and who patronises all fledglings of his profession, roiunteored a bit of timel/ advice. “My dear young fellow” he began, “you have j now entered upon a path which I need not ‘ail you you will not find strewn always with * However, once manage to gain a reputa tion anJ 1 the battle is won. After that, if you commitbl nn4 * w and mak * B ° rry *P e * che# will b. - P* rfe *>[ T"!’.*** “ and erery ow you J* m you, feyor will let you into on. or .**<> h * sion. There i only on. ‘b-luWjr qm •a a ‘ ...a • * **} brass, you will site to success : that is, cuswraru. • < find, is as necessary to a lawyer, u * woman. Put on a consequential face vate a business-like air. Talk largely oev'** ally (where you are not well known) of my t. ents, Messrs. A and B, and of the “case of E verm F,” and during a session of court, hurry up aid down street with an air of importance and a roll of tape-bound parchments under your arm, no matter if they be blank. You understand me I see” he continued catching my smile; “Weill well 1 I've no doubt yob will do, cnly let number one and nilduperandum be your mottoes.” Knowing that a prophet is without honor in his Qwn country, I removed to the village cf Pineville and tendered my legal eenriem to the publie | through the columns of tho Ptncvfflt flss/rf, itwock* i ly thumb-paper filled with stale aneedotes and thb adopted organ of ale the temperance organizations in the state. PENFIELD, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 1858 . misprinted doggerels, and retailing under the head of “news of the week” all the gossip of the village: the horse races, chicken fights, street riots, deaths and marriages. During my six months’ residence in this delectable village, I re ceived two oases. The-first, a suit of Scruggs vtr-’ stu Simpkins, in which the former accused the later of feloniously abstracting a ham from his larder. I was oounsel for the defendant, and I made quite a pretty oase of it; I thought first of making a bould coup and establishing an alibi, but finally relinquished the design, fearing that it would not be appreciated, and contented myself with proving the innocence of the ac cused by, what I considered, a chain of incontro vertible evidence. Unfortunately, my brilliant arguments were rendered futile by the prosecuting counsel bring ing forward a witness, who testified that he had dined with the accused the day succeeding the night of the theft, and that he actually had a ham for dinner: “ and this,” commented my oppo nent triumphantly, “is of course proof positive of his guilt; for you know, gentlemen of the jury, that the accused never owned a hog in his life ; and as for purchasing a ham, you are quite as well aware, that if there had been a dime in his possession, it would have been exchanged at Brown’s for a glass of grog. Whereupon, the counsel for prosecution ar ranged his wig with an air of great complacency, the jury agreed unanimously, the olerk waked up his honor the Judge, who had himself been im bibing two freely at Brown’s, and informed him in a whisper that the case had been decided in flavor of the plaintiff, upon which the dignified functionary solemnly nodded his head and the suit was dismissed. And so I lost my first casein Pineville. My next promised to be more important. It was re ally out of the common line—decidely romantic. I was employed as counsel for the plaintiff, in a suit of breach of promise, and had prepared (in my own opinion) a most eloquent and convinc ing speech for the occasion. I labored assiduously and arranged, to my own infinite satisfaction, the exordium, explication,argumentative and pathetic partp, concluding in a heart-moving peroration, with an affecting appeal to the honor and chi valryof men in behalf of defenceless woman, and a touch ing allusion to the youth', beauty and innocenco of my fair client, (who by the way I intended advising to keep down her veil.) In pursuance of Dean Swift’s plan, read it aloud to my office boy, and at ita conclusion, I am confident his eyes were red with lachrymal indications, (though stow lam not positive that they were not occa sioned by sleep, as I observed him bow his head rather too low for me to flatter myself in tended as a nod of approbation.) However, I looked forward with sanguine ex pectation to my hour of triumph but alas l L’komme propose et Dteu dispose. The day previous to the one whieh should have established my reputation in Pineville forever, my client, a red haired, six feet Amazon, stalked into my office and pushing forward a small, tallowy, meek-look ing man, informed me that the matter had been compromised by a marriage, and that she would have no need of my professional servioes. Here was a terrible disappointment! It was as much as l could do to bow back blandly, as a poor devil dependant on public opinion for bread and butter should do. If I had consulted my own inclination, I should eertainly have kicked the Amason and her victim down the steps. I sat down, thoroughly disgusted with Pine ville and its inhabitants, and on the impulse of the moment, wrote to any old chum, Jack Wal thong, who had married several years previous and settled in T ville, to know if that would not be a favorable locality for a young man of my profession. A few days after, I received the following characteristic note: My Dear Tom: The very place for you; plenty of liquor here and of course plenty of riots and quarrels; and consequently, business for you. Paek up your and come along by the first stage. Step with us of course. Want you to see Elisa and tne boy, (the very image of his Papa and as fine looking a boy as you will find south of the North pole ; olever too ; can make an O as big as a pewter plate, and tell who the Presi dent is already. Be sure to come. Your sincere friend, Jack Walthong. So I “packed up my traps,” no great task, when a common sized earpet-bag could hold them all, and two days later, found me inT ville, at the hospitable home of my friend, with his snub nosed cherub on my knee, Elisa darning stock-, ings in the eoraer, *nd Jaek himself at his old trade of cracking jokes and nuts alternately. Here, if I had yielded to the entreaties of my generous friend, I should have remained free of charge ; but poverty and Pineville misfortunes had not quite broken my spirit; and accordingly, with Jack as a pilot, I set out to find lodgings, and ac tually succeeded in obtaining what I thought, from the description of its owner, must boa perfect jewel of an office, but which upon inspection turned out to be a rat-haunted, leaky affair, cheerless in the extreme. However, a little paint and clean ing and a set of curtains, furnished by the warm hearted Mrs. Walthong, effected quite a trans formation. and at the end of a few days I was comfortably established in my new locality, with “Thomas A. Jenkins, Attorney at Law,” flaming out on ft brass door-plate, instead of upon the shingle which had served the same purpose in Pineville. I find it quite peasant siting here to night, by the cheerful fire, turning the white leaves of the Journal that shall contain my life history ; but I confess my prospeets for the future are not very encouraging. k This evening, I sat with Jack Walthong in the little front of porch my office, en joying a racy Havanna. He had a smile and a nod for each passer by, and for every third one, he turned to me and said, par parenthesis, Lawyer M. or H. Ac. I bad counted nine, and was begin ning to be appalled. “Jaok"saidl, “why did you write that this wae tfie very place for me, and now, I find that two thirds of the population are lawyers ?” Hriaughed heartily at my blank countenance. “The faet is Tom,” he said, “I wanted you with me, and then, we will have a railroad here mretty soon*-at least, they have sent on members enough to pass the bill, and then there will be work for J*OU all. You will find this place as good as any. The whole world is overrun with gentle men of the tape arid parchment profession, but never mind! look and M though head and hands were full of business, and above all keep a stiff upper-lip.” Nov. 27th. Two weeks have passed since my removal to t—<—-, and I have been most dread fully afflicted with mud, that most tiresome of all diseases, which results from haying nothing to do, I take my Blackstone and sit in my efflee deer, reading industriously, or throwing back my hair and affecting an air of profound meditation; but all to no purpose. Asa mode of passing time, I have determined upon resuming what has always been a passion with me, the study of human nature. “The proper study of mankind is man,” and in my humble opinion the mdSt agreeable. I confess I take a malicious pleasure in detecting hidden emotions, in analysing disinterested actions, and looking beyond the smiling face into the heart, which is the hive where a thousand vanities and levities are flattering and buzzing. For this reason, I frequent parties, with their files of young gentlemen and rows of nice young ladies, insipid as the blunt mange they eat, with their thir teen cotillions and two waltzes, their liquid ice creams and flat champagne. Jack Walthong has become quite a sober and respectable citizen, under the influence of his demure Eliza, and when I asked him to intro duce me to T ville society, he gravely replied that they were “divided into two classes, and he presumed I would wish to associate only with the quiet and orderly portion of the community; it would be more consistent with my dignified pro fession. I acquiesced, and was accordingly in troduced to half-a-dozen “ quiet” young gentlemen —a promising young lawyer of literary habits and rare attainments, and his tall shadow—an ex-ed itor—now a gentleman of elegant leisure; a phys ician of the reform practice, and two young M. D. fresh from Pennsylvania University, who conduc ted themselves with as much gravity as though they felt assured that the lives of the whole pop ulation of the town depended upon their individ ual exertions. I went with Dr. B. to call upon a young lady of his acquaintance residing at the upper part of town. She was, as Jack Walthong informed me, the only daughter of a wealthy farmer, and heir ess of a cool twenty thousand. I found her a very.amiable young lady, soft as the slumbers of infancy, with an unmeaning smile and a terrible sadness of comprehension. “ Her pulse is calm, milk-white her skin. She hath not blood enough to sin.” Knowing myself to be in rather a precarious sit uation, “ For Lawyers, they must either starve or plead, And follow right or wrong where guineas lead,” I betook myself with desperate resolution to playing the agreable, exhausted all my powers of conversation, traversed the fields of literature and passed most sweeping criticisms on all unfortunate authors, but only succeeded in eliciting that same vacant smile, accompanied sometimes by a stare of surprise. At length I spoke of the new work, “ Bonaparte and his Marshals.” Her counte nance lighted v little, and she exclaimed with considerable animation, “ Oh, yes! I play the tune, Bonaparte crossing the Rhine.” I was effectually silenced; and taking the hint, I led her to the piano and sat for two mortal hours, listening with an affectation of delight to her performance. This morning, when returning from my usual saunter down Broad street, I chanced to be near a handsome, reckless looking young man, who was criticising through an eye-glass a lady prom enading the street, with skirts most decidedly lifted, thereby disclosing pretty bronze gaiters of Cinderilla dimensions. Now, if I have a weak ness in the world, it is for a neat foot, and it was quite involuntarily, that I exclaimed, “By Jove, what a pretty foot and ankle!” The handsome young man wheeled instantly around and looked at me intently for half a minute. “You’ll do young gentleman,” he exclaimed. “We want one more addition to our set, and I think you will answer. lam Harry Hall, better known as Harry Hotspur, very much at your ser vice. I will call around this evening and take you to a supper with our fellows at my rooms. We want to show you life, for you look as mopish as an owl; no wonder we took you for a milk-sop or a simon pureand with a cordial shake of the hand, he darted away-to pick up 1 the hand kerchief of the lady he had just been criticising. So, to-night I am to find new specimens for my favorite study among the jolly members of the “Fast club.” Nov. 29th. True to his promise, Harry Hot spur came and conducted me to the back room of his store upon Broad street, where we found quite a merry party already assembled around a table, with cards and wine before them. “ Jenkins,” said my conductor, after he had introduced me in an easy, off-hand way to the half dozen guests, “ you see before you the pillars of the State, or, I should have said, the pillars of the town ; for without us the city council would be minus employment, and the treasury minus funds—a greater portion of which is extorted from our pockets under the plea that they are lawful fines ‘for the infringement of established rules. ’ Wo are not an organized club ; we pay no iniatory fee, but we are, nevertheless, a set to ourselves, and we have a few peculiar regulations, which I hope you will not find it difficult to abide by. We drink as much and as often as we please; drive regular stunners, make love to every pretty face and swear to stand by each other in every difficulty, right or wrong. In short, we have.'Live and let live’ for our motto; or, in other words, ’ We go for life in all its variety And do’nt care a fig for the Temperance Society.’ Do’nt look bo horrified, my dear Jenkins 1 We shall not bind you by oath to do all this; we will only take you for a short time upon trial. Here, try a glass of this old Maderia— ‘ rich, rare and racy—the very elixir of life/ Fill up all—'To ladies’ eyes around, boys/ ” and he drained the brimming goblet with an air of infinite gusto. “ I will drink to that forever,” exclaimed a ?9ice of singular sweetness. “ Heaven bless the ladies! I feel I love them all. ‘ 1 worship now tho black eyes, And now adore the blue— tnon breathe vows to Ida, breathed last night to Sue.’” I looked at the speaker, and felt convinced that I had now found an interesting study. Al though quite young, he was already blase, and I recognised him as one of the leaders of the fast set pointed out to.me by Jack Walthong. In the course of the evening, I studied him pretty thoroughly, t found that he coveted the appel lation of roue, and fancied himself a skilful flirt, because he had succeeded in obtaining the thread bare affeotions of certain impressible young dam sels. He was what girls of the bread-and-butter age pronounce “fascinating,” and had evidently sacrificed to the graces and practiced a number of irresistible ways before the mirror of his pri vate apartment. And yet, I could not but ac knowledge there was something peculiarly at tractive in his There was mere ] power for good or evil expressed in his counte nance than in those of all the rest put together. There could be no medium in him. He would either be a man of worth and integrity, or he would make a villain. The others were mere satellites, revolving around these two central leaders of dissipation, completely under their in fluence, and imitating them with an assiduity worthy of a better purpose. Did Harry Hotspur invent anew slang phrase, it was ever afterwards on the lips of his admirers, and they visited their lady-aoquaintances to “ try it on” with them. All Harry’s drolleries were imitated; his witti cisms repeated, while Percy's imprudent manner and studied fascinations were faithfully copied and dealt out second wanting in the'careless grace and happy insouciance of the original. In fact, Hal and Percy were the two great Moguls, the ruling spirits of the Fast Club, and all they suggested, from the pleasant amuse’ ment of barricading the streets to getting up a perfect stunner ball, was received with unanimous approbation. As for Hairy Hall, I found him a complete par adox—a perfect bundle of contradictions. He possessed an inexhaustible fund of animal spirits and a constitution which no excess seems to im pair, since after a night of wildest dissipation he comes forth, fresh and bright as though he had just awakened from the peaceful slumbers of in nocence. His mirth sparkles and effervesces like cham pagne, and his laugh is perfectly irresistible. He gets into all manner of difficulties and out of them again with wonderful facility; a word—a quick blow deciding the matter, and then after he has taught the offender his “ place,” he is quite ready to forgive and oiler him the right hand of fellow, ship. He has always something new on the ladies and spends his time in coining slang phra ses and elegant appellations, to express that state of partial intoxication considered as very manly by young gentlemen upon whose upper lip the down of manhood has just been coaxed into ap pearance. Harry Hall glories in being consul, ered a “ regular brick.” He conceals none of his excesses, talks openly of his “ sprees,” and yet, is not only tolerated, but half worshipped, by young ladies, who laugh at his impertinences, repeat his bon mots, and are proud of being driven by him at rail-road speed to picnic or pleasure excursion. It was at one of these that I saw him first. For once, the others had been before him in engag ing the best turnouts that Guy’s stables afforded, and were chuckling over their success, when Hal appeared on the ground with the belle of T ville, seated in a rickety vehicle, and driving a couple of shaggy, weasly little mules that looked as though they might be the identical pair pre served by our worthy progenitor in his miracu lous ark. Os course it was a triumph, and Hal was the hero of the day, the “ break-down” on his return being the grand coMp d* grace of the affair. Such were the new acquaintances to which my curiosity had introduced me. Not a very prom ising group, perhaps, but it was pleasanter to study their individual peculiarities than to sit in my cheerless office waiting for a brief. “ I think it is time we had supper; I’m deuced hungry, myself,” ejaculated a short, stout young man, whose rubicund countenance and abdo minal rotundity bespoke him a lover of the good things of life. “So I think,” responded Mr. Augustus Mul lin, a sentimental youth of extreme susceptibility, whose growth, like that of the mushroom, had been exceeding rapid, inasmuch as at eighteen he stands six feet in his pumps. Perhaps some malicious person might add that the simile of the mushroom might be extended to the tout en semble of Mr. Mullins, but tar be it from me to be guilty of such detraction.* “ Certainly, we shall have supper immediately,” said Hal. “ Joe, remove the glasses and bring on the meats,” he added, turning to one of the many obsequious servitors who stood grinning around; for the boys and negroes of T were, one and all, Harry Hotspur’s huge admirers. “Now Jenkins,” he continued, laying his hand upon the cover of the dish, “guess what I’ve brought you to regale upon.” “A haunch of venison, probably,” I replied, looking up from the comic pictures of Harper’s last, with visions of Goldsmiths and Garrick’s club Buppers flitting before me. “ Not exactly; ’Tis a ’possum ; a poet or painter might study— The fat is so white and the lean is so ruddy.” Only inhale the aroma, and look how tempting! ’Possum and potatoes forever! The peacock’s brains of those dunces, the Roman Epicures, were nothing in comparison. I say Joe, take away this wine and bring us something stronger. Here, Jenkins, let me fill up your glass! Here’s to good fellowship, and I hope you’ll drink it with a hearty will, for I want you to like our set. I am sure we expended a deal of pity upon you, while you were moping around town, victimized by those old fogies and doing your best to hide the lightness of your purse. (By the way we never let that calamity trouble üb, I assure you.) This is only half our set. In due time, you shall be introduced to the other and fairer portion. “ What!” I exclaimed, “ that is contrary to all club rules. Do you really mean to say that you have ladies belonging to your party ?” “ Certainly ; as fine a set of girls as you ever laid eyes on— regular trumps, every one of them; but you must know them yourself. What’s the order of the week, Sandy ?” he continued, turn ing to the stout young man who, by this time, had succeeded in .demolishing more than a third of the ‘possum, and was still industriously at work. “ A serenade, two parties and a regular blow up next Saturday night,” replied Sandy, a little stutteringly, for that old Maderia was very strong, to say nothing of the brandy smash. “ Never mind the blow up; that’s our own pri vate affair; the girls have nothing to do with it. You shall go to the surprise party next Monday night, Jenkins, and judge for yourself.” “ But I am prejudiced against parties,” I ven tured to say. “ Nonsense 1” you mean those quakerish af fairs, with rows of nice young ladies seated on sofas or pn a line of chairs, chatting most volu bly, and whenever a male creature approaches them, drawing themselves up primly, and say ing ‘yes, sir/ and ‘no sir/ with intense gravity. Our girls are nothing of the kind; none of the prude about them; they are full of life and spirit and wide awake for fun. Eh, Percy?” Certainly,” responded the Adonis, tossing back his long hair. “ They are choice specimens, even in this 4 land of white bosoms and love beam ing eyes,’ What say you, Augustus? But Augustus did not reply. - He had bowed his head upon the table sad slept; but his dreams were pleasant, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. for a stream of wine from an overturned goblet “ rippled peacefully past his nose.” The feast was prolonged until a late hour, and upon its conclusion, Hal was conveyed to bed by the joint assistance of Percy and one of the sable attendants, while the fragments of the supper were seized upon by the negroes, as part payment for the many odd dimes owing to them for sun dry small services in the way of holding horses for the “gents,” mixing gin with their water and rendering them assistance in sustaining their per pendicular, when they were in the fashionable predicament of having “more than they could carry.” And so the supper was over, and I returned to lodging, musing over these strange specimens of the genus homo , and speculating upon the proba ble future of the fasfyoung men I had just left. AMERICAN FEMALE AUTHORSHIP. BY MART £. BRTAX. Thb development of a taste .for authorship among females is of comparatively recent date. At no remote period a bas bleu was regarded as a rara avia, and she was a bold woman indeed, who would thus step forth upon the platform of pub lic notice, exposed to the shafts of masculine envy and criticism. A few, indeed, wrote from the necessities of genius, because the God-given tal ent would not remain hidden —the spirit harp would give forth broken music when swept by the wing of passion, of grief or wrong. In England, Hannah Moore and Mrs. Hemans, in their two widely different intellectual spheres, first gave tone and dignity to female authorship; and in our own country, Miss Leslie was first to render it a distinct and lucrative profession—Miss Leslie the clever satarist, the keen, discriminating writer, who at first mistook her vocation, endeavoring to believe it her mission to paint portraits in the studio of her artist brother. But the pictures were all caricatures, the pencil was thrown aside for the pen and Miss Leslie became an authoress in spite of herself. Since then, the taste for authorship among our American ladies has been steadily on the increase —the needle has found a formidable rival in the pen and every village newspaper has its quota of our “ charming correspondents.” Many of these write, not from the promptings of genius, but from a vain desire to see their noms des plumes in print, or perhaps from the want of employ ment better suited to their ability. They write crude, unfinished articles, with no redeeming originality—mere shreds and patches that their memories or their scrap-books have retained, and finding encouragement from the too lenient press, they continue to write thus, without any desire or attempt at improvement. It is this misplaced leniency that fosters the brood of flat, insipid and mediocre writers, who have considerably lowered the standard of perio lical literature in our coun try. Miss Anna Maria writes a poem in the pretty, gilt-edged album of her friend, in which “child, hood’s hours” rhyme with “smiling bowers,” “heart” with “part,” and “friendship’s prayer” with “forehead fair.” Miss Anna Maria’s friends commend the poem as the “sweetest thing they ever read,” and dear Charles, to whose perusal it is blushingly submitted, pronounces it “superior to anything that Mrs. Hemans or Mrs. Sigourney has written.” Forthwith Maria fancies herself a genius, procures a rhyming dictionary, and under the poetical pseudonym of “Minnie Mayfield,” indites her most charming verses iria delicate, crow-quill hand on gilt-edged paper, and sends the precious manuscript, tied with blue ribbon, to the “Weekly Rose Bud.” The Editor, who has more gallantry than discrimination, publishes the stanzas with a flattering mention of our “fair cor respondent,” and a hope that “she will not neg lect the talents so abundantly bestowed upon her.” Aoting upon this advice, and elated with her success, “ Minnie Mayfield” continues to favor the readers of the “Weekly Bose Bud” with her effusions, pouring them forth in one “weak, washy, everlasting flood.” Even where they have talent, and perhaps genius, our young- aspirants for literary honors are in two great haste to have their names appear in print—to become, as they fondly imagine, dis tinguished—for them to attain that success only to be won by patient study and practice. Pope says very aptly, that ** True ease in writing comes by art, not chance, As those move easiest, who have learned to dance.” A lady once complimented Mooro on the unstu died ease of his verse, and quoted a particular couplet which seemed to have flowed from his pen without effort or previous thought. “Madame,” replied the poet, “ that very cou plet you mention cost me a week's labor.” One of our best female writers, the popular author of “ Fashion and Famine,” did not venture upon publication until comparatively late in life. She had written only for her own improvement and diversion, until the failure of her husband, when wishing, with true wifely andwomanly feel ing to aid him in his struggles, she had recourse to her pen. The first article written for publica tion, she submitted to the revisal of the best cri tique and reviewer that America has ever known. He reviewed it carefully—drew his pen acros whole sentences and returned it with the advice, that she would read and study, but not touch pen to paper in literary composition within a year.— She was not discouraged—no true genius, who felt within them “the stirrings of agift divine,” would have been, at the first failure. She followed his counsel to the letter; with what success the whole reading public can testify. Miss Edgeworth, although in the habit of wri ting from childhood, published nothing until she was almost a middle-aged woman. In one of her late works—the last to which her father wrote the preface, he “.assures the publio that my daughter does not write negligently. I can assert that twice as many pages were written for these volumes, as are now printed. I maybe permitted to add a word on the respect with which Miss Edgeworth treats the public; their former indulgence has not made her careless or presuming.” If our aspiring young writers would observe something of this modesty and respect for the publio, we should find fewer half-finished pro ductions crowding the columns of our periodicals. MARIAN EDGELY. The conclusion of our novellette with the abova title, will appear in the next issue of this paper. it menu jflTWhyis a loafer in a printing efiSee Hite A •hade tree? Because we are glad whan he leaves. VOL. XXIV. NUMBER 8