Newspaper Page Text
EDITED BY THOMAS HAYNES
VOSs. V. NO. 7.
■IS-k') 4 .'XjJtantavb of pinion,
BY P. 1.. ROBINSON, Stat** Printer,
A>ul Publisher ( />y authority) of the Laics of the Inifed States
OFFICE SF.AR THE CORNER OF WAYNE AMI FRANKLIN STREETS.
ISSUED EVERY TIT.SDAY MORNING.
GIT- TERMS.—Three Dollar, per nimuin. No subscription taken for less than a
rear, and no paper discontinued, but at die option of die publisher, until all arrear
ages arc paid.
Advertisements conspicuously inserted at the usual rates. Those not limited
when handed in, will bo inserted till forbid, and charged accordingly.
< IIANiiE Op DIRM PlON.—\\ e de-ire such of our subscribers us niav at nnv
•hue wish the direction of their papers changed from one Post Office to another, to
inform us, in all cases, of the place to which the* had been previously sent; ns the
mere order to forward them to a different office, places it almost out of our power to
comply, lxcause we have no means of ascertaining the office from which they are
ordered to be changed, but by a search through our whole subscription book, con
tainintr several thousand nnmw.
MIL LED G E VIL L E JOCKEY”cLVBRACES.
THE Spring Races of the Mil
• ledgeviiie Jockey C’lub, will coni-
, nicnce on the second Tuesday
i*-* ~ ■* 1 -cy-yw,,. (lUthdav) of April next.
*45*5 > Ut dii>: Colts' Sueepstakc,
*Jrik'o Y S' fttH dollar* entrance; three or
ll A I'.llC
. . ,t 'r . Silver Goblet put up by the pro
da.': T'hi mile heats—free*
»--«-*■**> f or a |i. Purse, S3OO
3d d tv. Three nhh* heat —free,
for all. Purse, ........ SSOO
•tlhday. Emir mile heats, free Cor all. Parse, .... SBOO
sth day. (Jolts' stake—two mile heats—s*2so entrance —for the Young Plate,worth '
$1,000—3 already entered. Open until the 25th March next. The money hung up '
•'ach day. 11. F. YOUNG & Co., Proprietors. I
January 53,1333—1.
GEORG! \ AGIUCI LTUIIAL IMPLEMENT MANUFACTORY AND
AUGUSTA IRON AX’D BRASS FOUNDRY’, comer of Jones and Cum
ming streets, second corner nbovc the Planters* Hotel.—The subscriber would call
th? attention of Plant'is and others to tn? assortment of AGRICULTURAL IM
PLEMENTS, Ace. which he has on hand, consistin'? of Ploughs of the must ap-
Urarodkinds and of the different sizes, fmm light one-horse to heavy four-horse; Hill
•ide and Drill Ploughs, Seed Sowers, Harrows, Thrashing Machines, Corn Shetlers,
ditfereut kinds;Com and Cob Crushers, n first rate article; Wheat Funs, Hominy Mills,
Cylindrical Straw Cutter- of different sizes; also, various other Straw Cutters ; Su
gsr Mill-, Paint Mills, Turning I allies. Circular Saw s, Tx re-1 ending Machines, A.c.
He is prepared to do Lea\y Iron Turning, or any other work in his line at short
■Otirc.
The Iron and Brass Foundry is in full operation, having a first rate workman to
superintend the business, and a good stock of the best pig iron and coal on hand.
Those in want of machine or any other kind of Casting?, may depend on their being I
well done and of good qualitv.
Castings forCotton Gin Gearing, always on hand; also. Mill Iron**, Ate.
5-ts ROBERT PHILIP.
WETUMPKA INS’.—The subscriber has taken th* large and
co ..modious house lately elected by 11. W. Hanover, Esq. and :
las opened the same for the nceoniinoilatton of regular and transient !
Boarders. The house is well finished and commodious; situate in a ■
central part of the town. about one hundred yards from the bridge.
The undersigned, from long experience in this business in .Macon.
Athens. Geo., and this place, can with confidence assure his patrons
that every comfort and convenience will be afforded them that the place
and the urn ket can afford The ample and commodious Livery Stable
of Col. Powell & Son, within thirty paces of the Hotel, will afford
every accomtuod.itioii for horses.
Tite subscriber will only add, tint his means arc ample— call and try
him. S. GALLIGHER.
West Wetumpka. Feb. 13. 4—4 t
<1 F.ORGIA FEM YLE COLLEGE —Scottsboro’Georgia—The
JT Spring term of this Institution, for 1838, will open on Monday.
January Bth. It is desi able that nil students should be present at the
formation of classes, on the first day ofthc term. The government of
the Institution is strict, but salutary—being by written laws and cottsti
tutiou, which are rigidly enforced, after the manner of the republican
State Governments <-f this country. A pamphlet, containing hints on
Female Education, our system of instruction, discipline, Arc., will
shortly be published, and sent to all who may feel interested enough
to apply for it. by letter, to the Principal.
The hours for instruction are trout day light till nine o’clock I*. M.
(summer and winter) reserving four hours for meals and recreation.—
On Saturdays, students are engaged only till noon. The Lyceum, (a
literary ami scientific Society,) of w hich the Principal is. er ojftcio, Pre
aid nt, meet every Satunl.it evening. This society has been establish- !
ed hut a few months, ami has already proven itself to be immensely im
proving loth.- -oung ladies.
- We pledge ourselves to impart, in one year's time, to any youngla-
,ly. who possesses a good mind, and who can read fluently, a handsome
liaudw riling, a correct knowledge of Grammar, Arithmetic, Geography
and spelling.
A married gentleman, from South Carolina, is engaged in the Draw
ing and Painting department. His work will compare with any artist's ’
in the Southern States Besides the above branches, he will teach
Portrait ami Miniature Painting. Gilding. Bronzing, Smalling, Trans- '
feriing prints. Fancy V, ork with perforated paper. &c. &c. In the mu
sical department, iusti action w ill be given on the piano, guitar, and
flageolet. Lectures every night, on Human and comparative Physio
logy. Botany. Astronomy. Chemestry. &c. &c.
Exertions are being made to have a clergyman attached to he Justi
uti on, which will be effected with as little delay as possible. tWe have
1 library of -0 ) volumes—-an herbarium if 214)0 species of plants, eol
ected by th- Priuc'pil. in th: State of South Carolina—optical instru- L
incuts—-Chemical apparatus, maps, globes, &c.
The young ladies are required to dress plainly—not towear jewels
of any sort, ami nut to attend b ills and parties. No store accounts
without the sanction of parents or guardians. Such as have accounts
will be required to register all their expenses in a book, they Wil keep
for the purpose. Patrons Will receive a monthly report of their chil
dren's progress in their studies.
Board can be had in the village.
We solicit the patronage of our Southern friends, and pledge our
selves to labor to deserve it. We not only invite, but would be flatter
ed by the visits of al! who m n be disposed to attend our leetuics. rccita- *
tions. &c. on rny dav or hour during the week.
L. LATASTE.
ANNA M. LATASTE,"
Principals.
Dec. 21. 49—3 m.
• WIST RECEIVED—3I) llhds. Sugar; lO.OUO pounds Green and |
4* Java Coffee ; bbls. Superior Canal Flour; 100 bbls. Irish Po-I
tatoes ; 101) whole and half bbls. Mackerel . 10 Casks Rice. ■
15 llhds. Molasses; L'Obbls. • in. Rum and \Y biskey,
20 blds. Monongahela Whi-key : 4 half pipes Cognac Brandy,
•3 pipes Holland Gin: I puncheon Jamaica Rum,
10 half ami quarter Casks YY hie: 25 blds, double and single re- "
fined Loaf Sugar: 100 kegs White Lead ; 2 pipes Linseed Oil. :
3 pipes winter Straiuc Lamp Oil; 20 boxes Ga. Tallow Candles,
30 boxes Ga. Sperm do.; 40boxes Window Glass, 8,10, ami 10, 12,
50,000 lbs. Sweedes Iron, assorted ; 1,500 lbs. German. Blister and -
Cast Steel ; 5.000 lbs. English Castings; 2.000 do. Plough I
Moulds ; 150 kegs Nails ami Brads ; 5000 bushels Salt,
v 10 coil Manilla Rope.
Fors.de by NICHOLS & DEMING.
February <5- 3 4t
CENT’i: \I. I! WK OF GEROGIA, I
Milledgeville, Jan. 20th, 1838. f
TWWANY of the notes presented lor renewal having on them new en- I
k -LVB. dorser*. mid it being impossible for the board to determine their
responsibility, unless the notes are accompanied with some evidence of
the amount f property w hich they possess.
Beit therefore Resolved, That all notes offered at this Bank for rc-
* uewal, upon which the endorser* have been changed, must be accom
panied by a certificate of the taxable property of such endorsers as have
been substituted for those on the note proposed to be renew ed.
Extract from the minutes of the Board of Directors.
Jan. 23. I A. M. NISBET. Cashier.
C APITAL STOCK 9100,009, all paid I VElt son l. HAR
RIS, Ageuf al MilledgtviUe. of the Georgia Insurance and Trust
Cnitipany, will take Fire and Marine Insurance on the most rca
eooable terms. THOMAS S. METCALF, Pies’t
Wm. T. Goulii. Secr’y
M. Dirfctorgo fth.’ Georgia fnsurunce and Trust Com/Hin ,;, Nov. 4th, 1836.
Samwl Hale. Henjamin H. H'arrtn,
David tV. St. John, lilisha Morion,
Adam. Johnston, lidward Thomas,
Jacob Moise, James Stuart,
Solomon Kneeland, Samuel li Peet:,
Hai/s Bowdre, Isaac T. Heard,
! Pleasant Stovall. Il'illiam 11. Morgan,
Arlemas Gould, Harfier C, Hri/son,
I John M. Adams, John V. Cowling,
Andrew J. Millet, Iblward Padilfoid.
Nov 17—44
U&. J. SIP 11'WEI.L. hru :rg'../.'<. Y/ucozi, Ga— Tin: subscribers
• (former partners of Ellis Shotwell, &. Co.) have resuincdtheir
busint is under the above firm, at their old stand opposite the Brick
I avern, and will keep a general assortment of Drugs. .Medicines, Sur
gical and Instruments, Paints ami Oils, of all kinds, Window Glass, as
sorted sizes, Gl ’is-Warc for Mhop fiirnif uro. Perfumery, Kancy Article#,
Brushes of every description, Botanic and Patent Medicines Carpen
ter s preparations, also his Essays Medico. Dye Woods, and Dye stuffs,
and a great variety «>f Miscellaneous Articles, which they have received
i •. « large supply of, and intend keeping leir stock constantly replenished,
so as to bo able at all times to supply Dealers, Physicians, Planters
1 and others who may favoi them w ith their custom.
Intending to he permanently engaged in this business, the subscri
bers from their long experience, hope to render it worthy the patron
age of old nnd new customers. Orders by letter will meet the same
attention as if made in person.
N. B. Garden Seeds, assorted, warrented fresh X liberal discount j
gaade to country dealers. it A,- I S I
Oct. 11, 1837. ;»-tf 1
fßtotwS of
[brom th? New York Mirror.]
LONDON Ll. (. L’BR ATIONS.— Facts and Fancies.
[by william cox.]
II at/sof lit<~ ll aiding and stationary advertisements—Extraor
a •tatyprrdUcctions—Horses, variety of —Jews—Saving of la
bour anecdote.
A i<'iv pleasant way of spending life in London, is for a man to
become an “advertisement ” either peripatetic or stationary. If
, the lormer, lie still retains the privilege of a snail-like power of lo
; comotion, ami moves along from one end of a street to the other, en
. cased in painted, or printed and pasted wood, announcing to the
[ public the discovery of some certain preventive against death in
| every shape the superior polish of a certain blacking—when and
( where sin h ami such a line of coaches or steamboats halve town and
return. Il stationary, he takes his place where two streets form an
•ingle; and there, concealed between two boards, front morn til)
night, amid the giddy whirl and tumult around, he passively exhibits
I his invaluable statements to the public. “ What a piece of work is
■ nytn ! How noble in reason !---l:ow infinite in faculties !” etc. etc.
i 1 he truth is, there is a scarcity ot blank walls in the business parts of
the metropolis, and the house-ends contain notices es “ no bills to be
stink here,” under penally of prosecution ; trades-people, there
fote, who depend on glaring announcements, have hit upon the inge
nious device of substituting a man for a house-end; they get him,
the joiner, in tiie famous tragedy of“ Pyramus and Tltis
be, to “ present a wall !” And he does “ present” one from sun
rise until daikuess relieves ami reanimates him, and then, in the lan-
I guage of honest Snug, he exclaims (or might exclaim)—
“ 1 hu« have I, YV r ull,my part discharged ro;
And, being done, this Wall away doth go!”
on sometimes lose sight of the semi-vital properties of those
wooden cases. We were perusing one of them the other morning,
when we perceived something oscillating at the top of the boards in ■
a very singular manner—first visible and then invisible. Looking
closer, in order to solve the mystery, we perceived a small, meagre
old woman standing beside the announcement, with a piece of bread
and a pot ol something hot in her hand, doubtless a substitute for
coffee, which site ever and anvn handed in between the boards. It
was the advertisement taking its breakfast ! and everytime it put the
bread or coffee to its mouth, the head disappeared between the boards
and then emerged again. The sight was not altogether ludicrous—
there was a touch of humanity about it. The advertisement, it was
evident, was not wholly without sympathy—it had its ties and lela
ti.nships. Amid th? thousands and thousands that passed it through
the long day, without a thought, there was still that small meagre
figure coming, creeping thtough interminable stieets toadminister to
its necessities ; still so ne one to stir the fire for it, (if coals were not
too dear,) when it went home at evening. It was yet a few degrees
superior to actual wood, or brick and mortar.
But it were an endless, and, in many respects, irksome task to at
tempt to sketch the unheard-of-shifts, and strange means resorted to
for a livelihood in Loud n. Really some of them are almost suffi
cient to stagger the f aith in the virtue of our existing social laws and
covenat ts. Tine is the proverb that “ one half the world knows
not how the other lives.”
And melancholy it is to think that while grinding poverty compels
some to resort to such painfully ludicrous schemes for the prolotfga- ’
lion of an unattractive existence, others, blessed with the most am
ple worldly means for their own enjoyment, and the diffusion of
good to others, should be cursed with irrational fancies, which
place them even lower in the scale of creation than hitman advertise
ments.
Next to man himself, no class of animals presents the inequalities
of existence so forcibly and dramatically as the horse. What a feeling !
contrast is exhibited between the proud racer—the imbodiment o?j
speed and vigour—and the poor superannuated, attenuated occupant ! :
of the sand cart—-the very image ot patient misery, waiting death, j
Nearly all the intermediate classes are to be met with in and about'
London, save and except the enduring, strong-boned, though not
handsome hunter—-the sort of horse that will carry fourteen stone for
half a day, over the hedges and ditches of a ploughed country. It
must do the eye of an artist good—a Landseer, a Cooper, or-a
Chalon—to stroll about the west end of the town, and note the su
perb specimens of this animal to be met with in all directions. In
greatesfprofusion come to the stately carriage horses, bright bays
with black legs, and skins of the texture of velvet. High fed, pam
pered minions ! how proud they look as they feel the slight check of |
the reins, and draw themselves up. How aristocratically they glance ;
towards the passing cabs? and how very perfect is the union ofbeau- *
ty and power in their large frames. A race horse and a hunter al- '
ways look a shade too spare u ben in proper trim; but these car
riage-horses, though distinguished by the absence of all superfluous
fleshiness, present not a single angnl.tr point to offend the eye es the
most fastidious. They are it the exact state for the free, though not
extreme, de.elopement of muscular power. Then come the gentle
men’s ridmg hot ses, slighter and with more of blood, and, conse
quently, speed and (ire,about them ; the la.lies’ pads, small and del
icate, and gracolul as their riders; the cab-draggers, animals that
have an air of faded gcn.ilitv about them—horses that have, evident
ly, seen In ttei days, and still retain some points of I reeding, but
who have been debased and cotrupted in consequence of their mode
of life, and the keeping of low company-—to wit, that of their dri
vers. Still lower in the scale, sleeping on their stands, and indul
ging in imaginary vi ions of food, stand “ misery’s playfellows,” the
wretched anatomies, who cat about once a week, and drain out the
dregs of existence in the set vice of old firry visaged", gin drinking
hackney coachmen, creatures physically in as b id condition as the r
horses, arid morally a great deal worse.
Again ; there, perhaps, exists not a greater contrast in animal ex
istence—noteven between the lank, dimmerless, threadbare author,
rejected of publishers, and in debt to his landlady, and the oil v, lux
urious, tuitle fed aiderman, than ts presented bv those said hacks
and the pletjrorick London dray horses, particularly those attached
to the large breweries. These latter animals are, perhaps, not to he
matched in the world—“ none hut themselves can he their parallels.”
They are the pick of the largest horses in the island, and their natu
ral size is increased, by overfeeding, to truly elephantine proportions.
Os course, they have no wind, and never proceed quicker than a
leisurely walk—but, fordragging heavy burdens, or short and sudden j
exertion, their strength is enormous. But what is chiefly to i
be admired, is the training, good-temper, and docility of these *
tremeodous brutes ; and, before you have navigated the Strand, :
or any of the great thoroughfares of London, in a cab, at the .
rate, perhaps, ol a mile an hour, in consequence of the immense ;
I collection of indescrible vehicles, and where the slightest res-!
i tiveness or intractability on the part of these animals would,!
: in all probability, be the means of crushing you and your shell !
j to atoms, you become grateful to them for their forbearance,
! and begin to love the gentle monsters. In moral qualities, they !
are infinitely superior to their brutal, unfeeling conductors;:
j and, when you contrast the two, you cannot help feeling* that i
! there is more truth and less tniamiability in Dean Swift’s imagi
nary sketch of the Honvhntims and Yahoos than is generally '
supposed, >r than it is agreeable for he pride of hitman nature I
to acknowledge.
How very little sympathy appears to exist between horses
and Hebrews, considering, too. how’ nearly they were origi
nally allied in clime and country. The Jews are decidedly
peripatetick people. It is but rare, indeed, that you see the
; owner of a marked Hebrew physiogomy, proceeding in eqttes
! trian fashion ;and you never, by any chance, meet with a jockey
coachman, cabman, postillion, ostler, or indeed, any calling
that has to do with that species of quadruped. It is curious
to observe the bias this shrewd, intelligent, a d pertinacious
people exhibit toward particular employments, to which they
adhere, generation after generation, with a constancy almost
equal to their devotion to their usages and religion. How
sedulously do they avoid the pursuit of agriculture, and, in
general, of the mechanical arts. In London, the wealthy and
well-educated among them are almost invariably merchants,
bankers, and ex< hange brokers ; the middle class keep shops,
and, for the most part, sell toys, ntnbrell is, and optical instru
ments ; while the lower orders have, from time immemorial,
been distinguished as boxes, and have enjoyed the monopoly
of old clothes and oranges.
A story was told rne the other day, concerning one of these
old clothes merchants, which very forcible illustrates the saving
of labor jirinciple, and the tt nth ol the proverb that every one
understands in his own business best.
1 hose who are familiar with London cries, know that the
try of a .Jew who wi-hesto buy, sell, or exchange dilapidated
garment*, is a sort of indescribable sound, which may, perhaps,
be nearest expressed by the letters, “Klo! klo! () Ido!" G ,
who was now to London, and of a shy, diffident, but curious
and fidgety temperament, was sadly puzzled to know w hat this
cry could possibly mean ; an I, laudably desirous of adding to
hi, stock of knowledge, made several earnest enquiries upon
the subject, the fruits of which were laughter an.l ridicule.
, I bis G , did not at all relish ; and he, therefore, smothered
Itis curiosity, and asked no more questions—but still the ever
| lasting cry haunted him. What could it mean ? He pined
MULI.KBGEVII.rE, GEORGIA, TVESBAY MORNING, MARCH «,
Ottr Conscience—Our Country—, Oser J*trrty.
in thought—his appetite fell off’—he became feverish and irri
table. At night his slumbers were broken by visions of many
old men, who carried hags upon their back-, and unceasingly
ejaculated, “Klolklo! Oklo!” and when he started, in a
morning, from his restless pillow, and hurried forth to cool
himself, in every street or square he encountered one of those
. long-bearded, inscrutable beings—and they glared strangely
at him, and their lips moved, and out of their mouths came the
everlasting “Klo ! klo! O klo!”
“This is not to be borne,” muttered G to himself, “my
life is rendered miserable !”
“Klo ! klo ! O klo !” resounded from the opposite side of the
street.
G lost all command of himself. “My good lad,” said
he addressing a pot-boy, “can yon tell me what that man means
by “Klo! klo! Oklo'!”
The pot-boy requested to know “who the gentleman was
pricking fun out off,” grinned in his face, shook bis pots, and
went off'whistling “Jump Jim Crow.”
The ice once broken, G went on, and addressing, in
his blandest manner, a pretty nursery-maid, who was taking
the air with seven children and two lap-dogs, requested an
explanation of the mvsterious cry of “Klo ! klo! O klo!”
The nursery-maid, fully convinced that G was asking
the road he knew, and suspecting him of Giovanni-isb propen
sities, exclaimed in a tone of conscious rectitude—“l aint what
you take me for !” after which site whisked off in a fit of virtu
iediirnation.
“I will know—l will be satisfied !” exclaimed G in a
determined voice, and with his whole manner marked by the
power of irj isistible will, as he darted into the middle of the
street toward a hackney coachman, in order to reiterate his
in vniries.
The hackney-conchman put bis horses in motion as lie saw
him approach, in the pleasing anticipation of “a fare but,
when he heard the question submitted to him for solution, his
countenance assumed a very wrathful expreseion, and he de
sired G ,in substance, to go to the infernal regions, only
not being a classical scholar, lie availed himself of a short but
energetick monosyllable, signifying precisely the same thing.
“I will write to the Secretary of the Home Department
about it,” quoth G ; “I wifi not be baffled !”
Just as he had formed this determination, a hollow voice at
his elbow pronounced the fata) sounds—“Klo ! klo ! O klo!”
G could stand it no longer ; but, turning suddenly
round, resolutely confronted the mysterious one !
“Friend, ’ said he, endeavoring to repress his agitation, “in
heaven’s name what d<> you mean by “Klo! klo! O klo !”
“Man,” replied the mystery; “why, I means “Clothes!
clothes ! old clothes !”—what else should I mean ?”
G drew a long breath, took o(T his hat, wiped the per-
spiration from his throbbing temples, looked at the man “more
in sorrow than in anger,” and then, shaking Lis bead impres
sively, and pausing between every word, so as to give greater
force to his rebuke, he exclaimed—
“ Then—wh y—the—dense—don’t you say old clothes ?”
“Sir.” replied the man very civily, “if you had to cry that
cry as I have, maybe twenty thousand times in a day, it would’nt
he long before you’d find out the difference of trouble between
saving ‘O klo!’ and ‘Old clothes!’”
It was unanswerable. G attempted no reply. He put
on his bat and strode away.
There is an excellent moral in this anecdote—if the reader
can find it out.
militarF lxecutTon. •
“As we’ve got upon the subject,” interposed one whose
shattered frame gave evidence ol no ordinary service, “I will
try my hand at a yarn too. I don’t know whether it will go
beyond, I doubt whether it can come tip to yours; but this I
perfectly recollect, that never did man suffer amid such a uni
versal lamentation, as the poor fellow whose fate I am
describe. The regiment to which I belonged was quartered,
in the year 1812, at Z ante, one of the lonian islands. It was
the custom of the garrison then to furnish out-lying pickets,
which relieved one another about ten o’clock in the morning,
at posts which were distant from the city about five miles. Now,
whatever may he thought of pickets when an enemy is in front,
by us they were regarded as mere relations. The men told
off for that duty escaped, what all the rest of the garrison had,
a tedious drill of five or six hours’ continuance; and all of us
looked forward to the season w hen ot;r turn should come, as
schoolboys anticipate a holiday. You have both alluded to
the prevalent offence of that period—drinking. We were not
more free from it than other corps, though our commanding
officer used every possible exertion to repress it. But I am
afraid that it was—l wish I could add, that it no longer is, the
British soldier’s vice ; the correction of which would render
him, what no soldier yet ever was, or probably ever will be,
quite perfect. But 1 have no concern with the matter at pres
ent ; let me tell my story. In our grenadier company there
was a man natned.Jem Corns, a tall, strapping, powerful fellow,
somewhat given to drinking, to be sure, but no sot, and never
as far as 1 know, incapable of doing his duty. It was his turn,
as well as mine, on a certain day, to go upon picket, and we
fII in, as usual, for inspection. Jem had acted imprudently
that morning. He had drank a glass or two of aquardente,
just enough to make his face red, but not sufficient to unsettle
him; and, the serjeant who inspected us happening to be a taught
band, Jem’s imprudence did not escape him. “You are drunk !
Corns,” was the seijeant’s address; “you are not fit for picket.
You must fall to the rear.” Now, Jem felt that he was not unfit
for picket, though the fatigue of a field-day might have possibly
upset him ; so he denied the charge as peremptorily as it was
advanced, and hesitated to obey the order. The serjeant most
improperly struck him with his cane. I saw Jem’s cheek flush
to a deep color, hut he said not a word. He quitted his place in
the front rank, and retired behind the line. All this occurred
previous to the arrival ol the officer, who came up, however,
immediately afterwards, and demanded, as usual whether every
thing wes right—whether the party was complete, and the men
sober ! “All sober, sir,” replied the serjeant, “except Corns.
He is drunk ; and I made him fall out.” “Htdloa, Corns !
I cri-d the officer, “how is this,! bow come you to be drunk on
such an occasion as this!” “I am not drunk, Sir,” answered
Corns. “1 don’t deny that I h ve taken a glass, hut I am
quite fit for picket, and I hope you won’t ts-ke away my turn.”
“Silence ! Sir,” exclaimed the officer, “or I will send you to
the guard-house.” Now, you most know, that this officer was
a very sharp hand, and Jem did not particularly like him. They
had never, indeed, had words before, because he was not of our
company ; hut it was known to us all that he was verv free in
dealing his blows about, and that he had even cut one man in
the calf of the leg with histword. Had Jem been without his
glass, the circumstance would have either not occurred to him at
all, or having done so, it would have produced no effect upon
his feelings ; but Corns was a good soldier, and on common
occasions particularly civil. But to-day be was just so far
beside himself as to he ripe for a dispute, no matter who th
party might he which should seem to provoke it. He accord
ingly repeated his denial of the charge brought against hint,
and reiter tied his detn tnd to be sent with his comrades to the
outpost. The officer could not endure this ;he ton, got into a
passion, and Jem was ordered into confinement. Had the of
ficer permitted the thing to drop here, as almost any other per
son in his situation would have done, no great harm would have
come out of it. Jem would have been tried by a Court-mar
tial, doubtless, and received his punishment. But punishment
for such offences, as you all know, never degrades a soldier in
the eyes of his comrades; degradation being the consequence
of a degrading ( time, by no means of a fault which is purelv
military. The officer was a hot-headed man ; and perceiving
that Jem continued to remonstrate and complain when given in
charge to a corporal’s party, he had the excessive imprudence
to draw his sword and to walk after him. “If | hear you speak
another word, von rascal,” cried he, “i will ent yon down !”
Jem was already on the verge of madness, and the threat tints
iitti red him beyond it. He had his musket, with the bayonet
fixed, in his hands, and turning sharp round, he brought it to the
charge, right opposite to the officer’s breast. “You have cut
down others,” cried he, “bitt never, while I have this to defend
myself with, shall you cut down me.” Then flinging the fire
lock from him, he doubled his fists, “Come on, if you dare,”
lie continued, “your sword against my fistr ; come on, and see
who’ll get the worst of it.” I have not a word to say in de
fenceof such outrageous conduct. It was the acLeither of an
insane person or a mutineer, and it could not be overlooked.
Jem was.seized, and dragged to the black hole ; where, as soon
as a court-martial could be assembled, he was led forth for trial.
The evidence against him was but 100 clear, the proof of his
guilt too unerring ; and his crime amounting to mutiny in what
is called the enemy’s presence, only one sentence could be
awarded. He was condemned to be shot. Yet, 1 can’t tell
bow it came To pass, there was at this time no authority on the
island competent to carry such a s< ntence into execution. The
consequence was, that the proceedings of the court-martial were
sent to England for the Prince Regent’s approval, and nearly
eight mouths elapsed ere his Royal Highness’s will became
known. During this protracted period Jem Corns was trea
ted w ith as much of humanity as was at all compatible with his
situation. He received the ordinary diet of a soldier; he was
permitted to walk round the ramparts, attended by a single sen- ,
tinel ; mid an opinion came to be very generally entertained that '
with him “the bitterness of death was passed.” Jem never i
came into the notion of his friends. ‘‘They cannot pardon
me,” was his sole answer to such as talked to him of a prolon
gation ol his days. “I have been guilty of mutiny, and to spare
my life might cause the crime to be committed by others, and
so cost many lives. lam just as much at a loss as you are to
account for the delay, but, depend upon it, I shall suffer.”
Accordingly, he never once ceased to make ready for the great
change which impended ; and he became at last so calm and
so resigned, that 1 question whether the announcement of a
commutation of bis sentence would not have disappointed him.
It was towards the close of the eighth month from the date
of his trial, that Jem leaned one morningover the ramparts, and
watched, with the sentry who bad charge of him, a vessel, as
she made her way slowly towards the harbor. The signal which
streamed from her mast-head soon showed them that she was a
packet, and from her rig and build they were at no less to de
termine that she came from Falmouth. “Here comes my denth
warraut,” said Jem, turning to his guard; “I am sure that
the order for my execution is on board that ship,” The sentry
tried first to laugh, and then to reason him out of this idea, but
he failed by either method to accomplish Ins purpose. And
the event proved that Jem’s forebodings had not misled him.
I hat packet did bring the minutes ol the court-martial, with
his Royal Highness’s approval, the latter having, as was pretty
well understood, been extorted, not without great reluctance on
tiie part of the Prince. However, that is neither here nor
there. Jem’s death-warrant was read, and orders were issued,
for the execution at an early hour next morning. As soon as
the fact was communicated to him, Jem shut himself up iu Ids
cell, a:*d spent the whole ol that day, and a large portion of
the night, at his devotions. The only person, indeed, whom
be would see, was the chaplain, and of food he scarcely par
tonk at all. But when became forth next morning, so far was
he from being weakened by his fast, that I never saw him march
more firmly, or look round with a more undaunted countenance.
Jem was an excellent singer; and ever since his trial, had taken
especial delight in church music. He now sung-, as he pro
ceeded to the place of execution, the 104th Psalm ; and so
clear and full, and unbroken was his voice, that we heard it
distinctly over all the instruments in the band. At last we
reached the fatal spot, an empty space in the gorge of a bastion,
the inner face in the parapet of which had been newly plastered
and fronted with a sort of stucco.
With his back to this wall he was directed to kneel down, and
he agreed to do so as soon as lie should have shaken hands witk
the men of bis company, and bid them farewell. I have wit
nessed many affectionate scenes, as you may imagine, but I
neve r saw any thing like that. He was permitted to go through
the ranks, and each man, as he gave him his hand, burst into
tears. He was turning away when be observed, re t'ng with
his face on the rainpart, the officer for mutinous conduct to
wards whom his life was forfeited. “Mr. said he “I
hope you, too, will shake hands with me. I bear you no ill
will—l hope that you bear me none. 'I deserve my fate, and
I pray God that my blood may not lie heavy on your con
science.” The officer gave him bis hand, but lie shed no tear,
though his face was deadly pale ; and he immediately staggered
from the parade in a fainting condition. Meanwhile Jem took
bis station. He besought the commanding officer to exempt
him from the humiliation of having the nightcap drawn over
bis eyes, and assured him in the most pathetic terms, that he
would not flinch. But the Colonel could not consent. He
judged, and with great reason, that the sight of their comrade’s
features would probably render the firing party unsteady, and
he would not run the risk of that merelv to indulge a fancy iti
itself so little reason.ilce.—“Well ! comrades,” cried Jem as
he knelt down and permitted his face to he covered, “I will obey
my commanding officer to the last. And mark me—don’t be
afraid. Take good aim, fire steady, and let every ball hit
me. See, I turn you a good front.” He faced full towards
them ; and the few words which be spoke were as clear and as
firm as if lie bad been giving orders to a platoon to fire with
blank cartridge ; neither was his manner without its effect on
the party. They became quite cool and collected ; and on
the signal being given, they fired with such accuracy that not
a ball missed its mark. All went through him into the stucco
beyond, and lie died without groan or struggle. I can’t tell
you whatbecame of the officer who brought Jem to his. court
martial. We never saw him again, and I rather think that he
sold his commission and quilted the service.— Chelsea Hospital.
BORES.
One of the annoying peculiarities of bores is, to select the moment
of relating some stupid anecdote, or for asking some silly question,
when a witty, instructive, or inteiesting conversation is going on, to
which one is desirous of listening. A particular instance of this vexa
tious propensity once annoyed me excessively; it occurred at a din
ner given by my late worthy friend, Sir William Garrow.
“Pray, tell us,” said he to a man who sat near him, “that adven
ture of your’sin the wine vaults at Lincoln’s Inn. of which I heard
a garbled account the other day.”
I, who always liked an adventure, pricked up my ears at the
I sound; and the individual thus questioned, commenced the following
story.
“A friend of mine went to Madeira in an official situation, some
years ago. He speculated largely in wine, and sent home several
pipes, to be kept until hisieturn. He wrote to request me to find
them safe anchorage; and I, in consequence, applied to a friend, a
barrister, to procure me permission to lodge the wine tn the vast
cellars of Lincoln’s Inn-square. I was furnished with a key, that I
might have ingress and egress to this sombre spot when I liked; and
having one day a vacant hour in my chambers, it suddenly entered
into my head that I would go and inspect the wine depot of my ab
sent friend. Armed with the key, 1 sallied forth, and engaged the
first porter I met to procure a candle, and accompany me to the cel
lar. You are not, perhaps, aware that these vast vaults are twenty
. feet beneath the square, and the entrance to them many feet, I believe
one hundred and fifty, removed from any dwelling, or populous re
sort. —We entered the gloomy cavern, and locked the door on the
inside to prevent any idle person who might, by chance, pass that
' way, from taking cognizance of the treasure it concealed. So great
was the extent of the vault, that our feeble light scarcely enabled us
to grope our way through its murky regions; but, at length, we reach
ed the spot where I knew the wine of my friend was deposited, and
had the satisfaction of finding that the pipes were in perfect condi
. tion. We were preparing to roti rn, when the porter who held the
. candle, made a false step, and was precipitated to the earth, extin
guishing the light in his fail. Never shall I forget the sensation I ex
perienced at that moment ! for the extent ano tortuous windings of
the vault impressed me with a rapid conviction of the difficulty, if
not impossibility, of discovering the door. The alarmed porter de
clared in terror, that we were lost, inevitably lost ; that he should ne
ver sec his wife and children more, and cursed the hour he left the
t light of day to explore the fearful cave that would now become his
• tomb —a tomb on which no fond eye woald dwell; and he cried aloud
i in an agony of despair, at his gloomy contemplation. I urged him to
’ restrain his useless lamentations, and seek to grope our way in the
s directionof the door; and having occupied full two hours in fruitless
, ly wandering through as many devious windings as if in a labyrinth,
we at length discovered the object of our search. *Oh God be thank
ed, God he thanked I’exclaimed the portei, with frantic joy, ‘that I
' shall again see my wife, and my little ones!’ and he seized the kev,
which was in th? lock, and turned it with such force that it" snapped,
P. L. ROBINSON, PROPRIETOR.
- the head remaining inextiicably secure in the wards. ‘Now, we are'
’ indeed lost?” cried he, throwing himelfon the ground; ‘all hope is at
? an end, for we might knock and scream here for ever, without being
. heard. Why did 1 come with you? It is plisin you are an unlucky
( man, whoever you are, and vour ill-fortune falls on me.’ I tried to
comfort him, though seriously alarmed myself; but he only became
' angry, telling me I could be no father or husband, to talk so cooly at*
such a moment, and with a certain prospect of death by famine star-
• ing us in the face. ‘Ob Lord! oh, Lord!’ cried he, starting up in
■ terror, ‘the rats are gathered round; they will devour us before Lun-
* ger has done its worst!’ I have, all my life, had a peculiarantipatbv
■ to these animals; and c tnfess that, when I found them stumbling over
i my feet, and heaid them running at every side, an increased"sluicl
. der of horror and fear filled my blood, ‘Let us stave in one of the
wine-pipes,’said my companion, ‘that we may forget, in the excite
ment of wine, the horrible death that awaits us. Yes, let us get
drunk!’ J refused to adopt this project; and my refasal again drew
forth bis reproaches on my being an unlucky man, and his conviction
that 1 had no heart in my body, as lie expressed it, or no wife and
little ones expecting me at home, or I would net take r.alters so
easy. How many thoughts did 1 give to the deartbiccis to whom
I he referred, as 1 now dwelt with anguish on the fearful probability of
jmy never again beholding them! We searched in vain far a stone or
: any other implement with which to wrench the lock or farce the
| hinges, boll; of which resisted all our efforts. Hour after hour passed
away. How interminably long appeared their flight! the silence on
ly broken by the mingled reproaches and lamentations of my com
panion, and the increased noise of the rats, xho now, becoming more
courageous, assailed our feet. Each hour strengthened my convic
tion of our inevitable death in this horrible subterranean, v.’.ere
probably , our mortal remains would not be discovered until eveiy
trace of identity was destroyed by the ravenous reptiles around us.
My blood ran cold at the reflection, and my heart melted at the
thought of them who were, doubtless, at that moment anxiously
counting the hours of my unusual absence. I seized tho arm of my
companion, and ’’
Here one of the company, proverbial for his obtuseness, and who
repeatedly attempted to interrupt the narrative, seized my
and in a loud voice said—“ How do you think, Jekyl, J should have
got out.”
“You would have bored your way out, to be sure,” an- ,*red L
impatient at tkc interruption, and more so, as at tl.l-i; ctant, the but
ler announced that the ladies were waiting tea for us. I ascended to
the drawing room fully intending to lequest the sequel of the story;
but a succession of airs on the piano, accompanied by the voices of
the ladies, precluded the possibility of conversation. In a fev, days
after,! met some of the party, and questioned them respecting the
conclusion. One declared that iie had forgotten all about tho story;
another said that it had set him off to sleep, and so he missed the
denouement; a third avowed that he was deafia the left ear, he had
not heard more than a few words; and a fourth tc.’d me that, a tire
some man next him took that opportunity of giving him the particu
lars of a county meeting, as detailed in the morning payers, not
omitting a single line. Consequently, to this hom, I am'ignorant
how the gentleman and porter escapedf.om the vault!— [Lady Blet-*
sington.
THE QUEEN AND THE DUKE.
RORY O’MOORE’S VERSION.
An ex-Scotch member, a grave, religious, matter of fact
man, Major Cumming Bruce, at a political dinner a few days
ago, stated that the Queen Laving been interrogated reject
ing her matrimonial views by Lord Melbourne, sharply an
swered that there was hut one man in the kingdom she sighed
for, and that was the Duke of Wellington ! At the lime of the
Catholic bill we remember its being announced by the Tory
organs that the Marquis of Douro was meant to be the happy
man; but the Duke was not then a widower. As the version
of Major Bruce is rather succinct, tve espy from The Chroni->
cle the following detailed account: —•
TO DANIEL O’CONNELL.
King Arthur reigns in England,
In Ireland reigns King Dan,
The Queen in Windsor Castle ;
Dethrone them if jou can.
Honored Sir, —Our bread is baked black ; and your fine
spikulations about Musthur Johnny go for nothing. The match Z
is made, sure enough ; Counsellor Prate is drawing up the
marriage articles, and the Queen is to be married o’Michael
mas morning to the Duke-of Wellington. I seen an empty
coach and four rowliu’away from the Castle this morning,
with nothing at all in it barrin Mr. Hudson, and they told me
lie was flyio’ post to fetch up the Archbishop of Exeter to tie
the happy knot. O wirra slruc, if a body could a’ thought
she’d fancy so ould a boy as that, ’lis yourself we’d a’ put in
nomination for the stole Icug ago.
Now, don’t go for to suppose that’lis wantin’s to impose
upon your iunosonse 1 am. Not a word o’ lie in it. 1 heard
it from a Consarvative, and by coorse, you no, it must be
trie.
There’s one Cummins, a High Lander, up at the Castle, a
runner to the Wally de Sham of the King that was, and now a
soart of supernumery tay-boy of the back stairs ; be was put
into the survive by a natheral first cousin of his own—Squire
Bruce they call him—who had a power of influence in the ould
times (I dar say you knew something about him iu the Parlia
ment House.) This chap—not Squire Bruce, hut hjs cousin
Cummins—is ill and all with the dhieeu’s under-housemaid’s
deputy’s assistant’s own maid ; that’s the lake that the
whole murder came out through, jist as I am. going to tell it
to you.
One morning last week this Miss Emily Mugs, Sawny Cum
min’s Dezdymotiia, was in her turn of duty down on her mars
rowbones, brightuin’ the bars of the grate in the Queen’-
Hoord-o'-uar— a soart of a drawing room—where she houlds
discoorse with Lord Palmerston and the rest of the ministhurs;
when who would walk in but her Majesty and the master of the
band, Lord Melbourne himself, to give awgents to one anoth
er upon the affairs of the nation. They talked about Lord
Hill and the army. Sir James Graham and the navy, and Fa
ther Crotty and the Church ; then passed some remarks upon
the King of France and his Protestant daughter-in-law, the
King of Beijain and his Roman w ife, and the Queen of Spain
and iier haytl.en of an uncle ; but yourself was the biggest
toppick they handled that day, and if your ears worn’t hot
enough on both sides of your bead, it must be bekase they’re
too well juste to that kind of basting by this time to make any
account of it. When the council of war was finished, and the
Queen stood up out of her throne, as much as to say, “ Get
out, ye Whig,” his Lordship axed if he might make so bold
as to trouble her w ith a few questions on a very delicate sub
ject.
“ Oh, by all manner of manes,” says her Majesty ; “ you
no I needn’t answer none of ’em if I’d rather not.”
“ It’s what I was going to say,” says his Lordship, •' that
considerin your Majesty is your own misthress, as wall as the
misthress of the world, and—and—”
“And what, iny ministher ?” said her Majesty sharply.
“ And in fact,” says he, “ you are arrived ala Queen’s es
tate, with fine nasties, palaces and parks, coaches, horses, ser
vants, and galiories of every thing to make a family comfor
table, and housekeepin’ asy ; 1 was thinkin’ that your Majesty
might be thinkin’, maybe, of sharin’ the throuble with some
body to your likin’.”
“ Ah, then,” says the Queen, looking very arch at the grey
hairs in his miuisthership’s whiskers, “ What the dickins put
that bright idaya into your wise head ?”
“ Why,” says he, “if I may make so free, I first thought
of it when 1 heerd you calling yourself Queen Victoria the
First."
“ And what of that ?” says the Queen, rising herself up ne
■ stately as she looked that day in the House of Lords, anil stri
king the table with her knuckles three times, like a doable rap
at a hall door—“ What of that, my Lord ?” says she.
It’s very bould of me, sartinly,” says my Lord ; but it
: sthruck me at that present time, that you didn’t mane it should
be Queen Victoria the Last."
' At this her Majesty set up a laugh that would do your heart
' good to hear it, only for what came afterwards ; and—“ Ye
nincompoop of a man,” says she, “ is it in earnest ye are ?”
’ “ Never was more snrious in my lift*,” says he ; “ and what
I would beg leave to no in the behalf of that is this—is there
any person, in case you would take a likin’ to him, that yot*
, ! think id answer to go partners with you—any jintleman I mane,
WIIOL.EIVO. a 15.