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EDITED Bl TIIO.hAS HAYNES.
VOL. VI. NO. 5.
■j I'c .lanbavb o[
BV r. ROBINSON, suite Printer.
And r (by authority) of the I.airs of the I nited States.
ISftf.D EVF.RI Tl ESDAY MORNING.
K7 TERMS.—Throe Dollar* per annum. No subscription taken for loss than a
▼ear, ami no paper discontinued, but nt the option ol the publisher, until nil arrear
age* are paid.
CHANGE OF DIRECTION.—We desire such of our subscribers as may nt any
time wish the direction *»* their papers changed from one Post Ortice to another, to
ofonit us, in all ca-cs, of the place to which they had been previously sent; ns the
mere older to forw aid them to n dilTerent oflieo, places it almost out ot our power to
comply, because we have no means of ascertaining the office from which they are
Olden'd to be changed, but by n search through our whole subscription book, con
taining several thousand names.
ADVERTISEMENTS inserted at the usual rates. Sales of LAND, by Adtni*
oiatraters, Executors, .r Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tues
day in the mouth, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after
noon, al the Court House in the county in which the property is situate. Notice of
these sales must be given in a public gazette SIXTY DAYS previous to the day of
•ale.
Sales of NEGROES must be nt public auction, on the first Tucsdavfof the month
between the usual hours of sale, at the place of public, sales in the county where the
letter* t(Miincntnrr,of Administration or Guardianship, may have been granted, first
giving SIXTY DAYS notice thereof, in one of the public gazettes of (his State,
•nd at the door of the Court House where such sales arc to be held.
Notice tor the sale of Personal Property must be given in like manner, FORTY
DAYS picvious to the day of sale.
Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published FORTY
DAYS.
Notice that application will bo made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell
LAND, must be published for FOUR MONTHS.
Notice for leave (o sell NEGROES, must bo published for FOUR MONTHS
before any order absolute shall be made by the Court thereon.
Notice ol Application for Letters of Administration must be published THIRTY
DAYS.
Notice of Application for Letters of Dismission from the Administration of an Es
tate, are required io be published monthly for SIX MONTHS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
A LESSON FOR COQUETTES.
“ We h ive t visitor to-day,” said Lord Pallister to bis niece,
the lovely Elizabeth Pallister, who was on a visit for a week
to her right honorable uncle.
“ Who is it,” said the lady. “ a lady or gentleman 2”
“ A gvntl 'man —Mr. Jones.”
“ And who is Mr. Jones—is it Damper Squire Jones, or
the renowned Tom ?”
But we will save his lot <1 ship the trouble of describing who I
Mr. Jones was. lie was simply Mr. Jones, of Piercefield, in
the count}’ of Suffolk. Now this description is very short, but
it is quite iti.Ticient to describe Mr. Jones. It is evident he .
was not one of very ancient geutiliiy—had he been so, he I
would have been Mr. Jones of Piercefield Hall, or Piercefield
Manor; he was not a retired merchant, or he would have been
Mr. Jones of Pit ret field House; neither could be be a retired
shopkeeper, or his house would have been dignified with the )
euphronious name of Rose \ ilia, or Bellevue Cottage, or
Piercefield Lodge. But Mr. Jones’s house was a very
good house, it stood on a lawn only one hundred yards from
the road-side, and the entrance-gate was suspended between
massive stone piers, surmounted with round balls. It is, there
fore, evident that its owner was a man of a small independent
fortune, and that he was a gentleman by two or three descents.
Now, Mr. Jones was a bachelor, his age twenty-five, his edu
cation such as he could obtain at a celebrated, endowed school
in the neighborhood ; he was eminently handsome, hut could I
not pretend to great abilities; but he was good natured and
well-dispositioned, and a special favorite of Lord Pallister.
Now, Miss Pallister, besides being a wit, was a little bit ofa
coquette — -just sufficient of evil in her disposition to prevent her
being an angel, but she was a very charming lady. She there
fore debated with herself as to the course she should pursue to
wards Mr. Jones, whether she should abash the poor squire by
her satire, astonish him by her wit, or fascinate him by her con
descension, and finally determined to be ruled by circumstan
ces. Accordingly, after having been introduced to our squire, ,
Miss Pallister occupied the five minutes which usually inter
vene between the completion of the toilet and the serving of
dinner, in surveying the fortress she meant to attack. “ Not
at all distinguished in his appearance,” was her first thought,!
■“ but the man is d chi tily handsome,” her second.
People may talk of their appreciation of intellectual gifts, !
but there are few who are indifferent to personal beauty ; and
when Mr. Jones led the lady to the dining-room, he was favored
with the sweetest of.smiles, and during dinner, and until she
retired to the drawing-room, she had directed the full battery
of her charms am! gra-es against the heart of Mr. Jones. She )
was witty without ill-nature, and vivacious without being rude ;
but when she was alone she confessed to herself that in all ap
pearance her labor had been thrown away. Jones had listened
to her conversation, but he had not expressed, and did not seem
to feel, any great admiration es either her w it or her beauty ;
but his polite replies and accommodating affirmatives were giv
en with a degree of good-humored nonchalance that convinced
Miss Pallister, to her great mortification, that she had failed in
her attack on the heart. “ A mere country squire to be thus!
invulnerable to charms which have driven half the f ishionable
world mad,” thought she, “it is wonderful!” and Miss Pallis
ter was not vain in so thinking—it was a fact. “The man is I
not a fool either, and the fellow is handsome.” She coloured,
though alone, as this idea a second time occurred. She, the
star, or rather the sun of fashion, was not surely losing her own
heart without obtaining another in exchange. Pshaw ! it was
ridiculous, but this did not prevent her, Uhen the party re-as-j
aemhled,from renewing tier attack, and she again failed ; for
Jones, from the effects of good wine and Miss Pallister's eti-j
couragernent. had become rather talkative, and to her surprise)
he talk' d remarkably well ; for, though not brilliant, he had
good sense, had read a great deal and had a good memory.— !
The evening soon passed away, and the lady, on reviewing
the events of the day, was mollified to confess that, not only
had she in ide no impression on Mr. Jones, but she began to
suspect th-it her own heart was not invulnerable ; she recollected
that she had li.ieurd with pleasure to Jones’s disquisition on!
the Ptolemaic kings, she who had never listened for two min- i
minutes together to anybody—it was ominous.
The intercourse between the parties became daily ofa more !
particular description, ami Miss Pallister was delighted to find <
that she had subdued the stubborn heart of Jones. How shell
would tease him w hen he hail once been brought To confessson. I
But to bring about this confession was more difficult than the i
lady expected. If she gave him encouragement in the pres-i I
cnee of her uncle, Jones would follow her lead briskly enough ; <
but alone lie was grave, frigid, and polite—but, alas ! not lov- I
•ng. Now thi-was exactly the contrary of what Miss Pallister i
wished; she had no objection to coquet, but she had a great i
aversion to being found out. She knew that her uncle would >
not allow her to make a ford of any man, and if Jones were to ■
make a declaration in consequence of any public coquetry, she ;
must either at once accept him or incur that nobleman’s seri-j
ons displeasure ; and »lic was always uneasy if any difference
took place with that relatiw, to whom she was sincerely at
tached.
But all things com.’ to a close ; so did Miss P.illister’s visit
to her uncle—.nd Mr. Jones had neither made a declaration
nor seem inclined to do s<» ; ami, ft ft alone in her carriage as
it bore her to London, her reflections were none of the most
pleasant. Site fell that, in playing the game of coquetry, she
had not only failed in her object, but had lost her heart—and
doubts and fears possessed her breast, that perhaps Jones, dis
gusted with Iter conduct, might direct his attention elsewhere—
and she burst into tears at the thought.
Now, Lord Pallister had seen the game his ncice was play
ing, and was pretty well aware of the state of her heart, and it
rejoiced him that her affections had fallen where they
had ; but he laughed heartily at the thought, that a mere country
squire like Jones should so fairly outmanoeuvre a practised co
quette like his neice. “Jones likes the girl,” said his lord-hip
Jo himself, “ mid he shall have her, but let her suffer a little;”
Standard of Union.
and suffer she did. 1 ,etters from his sister-in-law described his
ncice as not w ell, pale, out of spirits. “ So,” said his lordship,
“ slfb is in love at last, is she. 1 must give her, anotherchance,
I suppose.”
Lord Pallister’s next letters mentioned incipient symptoms
ot gout, and his affectionate neice soon arrived to nurse him,
but he was shocked to perceive that she looked horribly ill.—
“ Poor thing,” thought he, “ I must be merciful,” but in the
course of the day he gave her a hint respecting her country
beau, Mr. Jones—-and Miss Pallister, in a passion of tears,
threw herself at her nude’s feet, and confessed at once her
love, and besought him not to allude again to her wicked and
foolish conduct.
“ It w as wicked,” said she “ because I intended to injure the
happiness ofa worthy man, and I suffer now justly.” '
Lord Pallister thought to himself, “ Thou art a good and
honest girl after all, and thou shall be Mrs. Jones yet.”
fjords have great power no doubt, but how bis lordship con
trived, a few weeks after, to detect Mr. Jones in the act of im
printing a kiss upon the lips of the fair Elizabeth, we cannot
tell; neither have we heard that either his lordship or his niece ex
pressed any violent indignation at the audacity of Mr. Jones.
Nay, it has been insinuated that the said kiss was given with
the full approbation, not only of Lord Pallister, but also with
that of his niece—but this seems incredible.
From the Violet for 1839.
THE COTTAGE.
BY MRS. L. 11. SIGOURNEY.
There was a laboring man, who built a qottage for himself
and wife. A dark grey rock overhung it and helped to keep it
from the winds.
M hen the cottage was finished, he thought he would paint
it grey like the rock ; and so exactly did he get the same shade
of colour, that it looked almost as if the little dwelling sprung
from the bosom of the rock that sheltered it.
After a while the cottager became able to purchase a cow.
In the summer she picked up most of her own living very well.
But in the winter site needed to be fed and kept from the cold.
' So lie built a barn for her. It was so small, that it looked
more like a shed than a barn. But it was quite warm and
comfortable.
IVjien it was done, a neighbor came in, and said, ‘ What
colour will you paint yolir barn?’
‘ I had not thought of that,’ said the cottager.
‘Then I advise you by all means to paint it black; and here
is a pot of black paint which I have brought on purpose to give
you*’
Soon another neighbor coming in, praised his new shed, and
expressed a wish to help him a little about bis building.—
‘White is by far the most genteel colour,’ headded, ‘and here
] is a pot, of w hich I make you a present.’
While he was in doubt w kit h of the gifts to use, the eldest
and wisest man in the village came to visit him. His hair was
entirely w hite, and every body loved him, for he was good as
well as wise.
When the cottager had told him the story of the pots of
paint, the old man said, ‘Hew ho gave you the black paint is
one w’ho dislikes you ; and w ishes you to do a foolish thing.—
He who gave yon the w hite paint, is a partial friend, and <Je
j sires you to make more show than is wise.
‘Neither of their opinions should you follow. If the shed is )
either black or white it will disagree with the colour of your 1
house. Moreover, the black paint will draw the sun and
cause the edges of yotir boards to curl and split, and the white
will look well for a little while, and then become soiled, and]
need painting anew.’
‘ Now take my advice, and mix the black and white togeth- )
er.’ So the cottager poured one pot into the other, and mixed
them up with his brushes—and it made the very grey colour,
which he had used and liked before upon his house.
He had in one corner of his small piece of ground a bop
vine. He carefully gathered ti e ripened hops, and his wife
j made beer of them, which refreshed him when warm and weary.
It had always twined mound two poles which he had fastened
to the earth, to give it support. But tbs cottager was fond of
building—and lie made a little arbor for it to run upon and '
cluster about.
He painted the arbor grey. So the rock and the shed and
the arbor were all the same grey color. Ami every thing ]
. around looked neat and comfortable, though it was small and
' poor.
When the cottager and his wife grew old, they were sitting
together, in their arbor, at the sunset of a summer’s day.
A stranger, who seemed to be looking at the conntrv, stop- )
ped and inquired how every thing around that small hab
itation happened to be the same shade of grey.
‘lt is wry well it is so,’ said the cottager— ‘ for my w ife and i
1 you see arc grey also. And we have lived so long, that the j
world itself looks old and grey to us now.’
I hen be told him the story of the black and white paint, and
how the advice of an aged man prevented him from making his
little estate ridiculous when he was young.
‘ I have thought of this circumstance so often that it has given
me instruction. He who gave me the black paint proved to
be an enemy ; and he who urged me to use the white was a
friend. The advice of neither was good.
‘ I hose who love us too well are blind to our faults and
l those who dislike us, are not willing to see our virtues. One
would make us all w hite, the other all black. But neither of
i them are right. I'or we are ofa mixed nature, good and evil,
| like the grey paint, made of opposite qualities.
‘ If, then, neither the counsel of our foes, nor of our partial
friends, is safe to be taken, we should cultivate a correct judg
ment, which, like the grey paint, mixing both together, may
avoid the evil and secure the good.’
ARKANSAS ELOQUENCE.
We’ll put the following sample of an Arkansas lawyer’s elo
quence against any thing they can bring from the West. As
to the justness of his reasoning we sav nothing, but as to its
cone!nsirencss we defy any one to find a match. His client was
brought up for stealing a mule. After the witnesses had all
been sworn, and the lawyer on the other side had given his
opinion, our orator gave the jury the following blast:
“ Gentlemen of the jury, the whole of you, there you set:
You have all heard what those witnesses have said, and of
course you agree with me that my client didn’t steal that mule.
Do ton ’spose, for one second, that he would steal a mule ? a
low-lived mule ! D—n clear of it. What does he want of a
mule w hen he has got a hang-up pony like that tied to yon
tree? (pointing to a fine-looking Mustang, opposite the log
court-house.) What, I say, in the nameof Geri. Jackson, does
he want of a mule? Nothing—exactly nothing. No, gentle
men of the jury, he didn’t steal the mule—he wouldn’t be
• aught stealing one. He never wanted a mule, nor he never
would have a inulu about him. Helms his antipathies as well
as any Body, and you couldn’t hire him to take a mule.
Jurymen, that lawyer on the other side has been trying to
spread wool over your eyes, and stuff von up W nh the notion
that my client walked off with the aforesaid animal without
asking leave; button ain’t such a pack of fools as to believe
luin. l iji,teu to me if you w ant to hear truth and reason—-and
whtle you are about it, wake up that Glow who’s asleep; I
want linn (o hear too. •
That other. lawyer says, too, th U my client should be sent
to prison. I,| like to sec you send him once. But ii’ s gettin
towarih. dinner time, and I want a horn bad, so I’ll give y ()ll „
closer and finish. Now you have no idea of sending my cli
ent to prison—l can see that fact sticking out. Supposeeiiher
of you was in his place—suppose, for instance, I was, and you
should undertake to jug me—put me in a logjail without fire,
where the wind was blow ing in on one side and out of the other
and the only thing to brag of about the place was the perfectly
free circulation of air—do you suppose, I sav, that I would
go? I’d see you d—<l first, and then I wouldn’t.”
We don’t know w hat verdict the jury returned, as when
our informant left they had all gone to the grocery to liquor.
jV. O. Picayune.
MILLED&EVILI.]*:, OEDRCIIA* TUESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY i
Oi;r Coitsficuce- Otcr Ji*frriy.
FEMALE PIETY.
The gem of all others which encircles the coronet of a lady's
character is unaffected piety. Nature may lavish much upon
her person—the enchantment of the countenance—the grace
fulness of her intellect —yet her loveliness is uncrowned till pi
ety throw’s around the whole th ? sweetness ami power of her
charms. She then becomes unearthly in her temper —unearth-
ly in her desires and associations. The spell which bound her
affections to things below is broken, and she mounts on the si
lent wings of her fancy am! hope to the habitation of God,
where it will be her delight to hold communion with the spirits
that have been ransomed from the thraldom of earth, and
wreathed with a garland of glory.
Her beauty may throw its magical charm over many—prin
ces and conquerors may bow with admiration'to the shrine of
her riches—the sons of science and poetry may embalm her
memory in history and in song, yet piety must be her orna
ment —her pearl. Her name must be written in the “ book of
life,” that w hen fade away and every memento of
earthly greatness is lost in the general wreck of nature, it may
remain and swell the list ot that mighty throng which have
been clothed w ith the mantle of righteousness, and their voices
attuned to the melody of Heaven.
With such a treasure, every lofty gratification on earth may
be purchased ; friendship will be doubly sweet; pain and sor
row shall lose their sting, and their character will possess a
price far “ above rubies” ; life will be but a pleasant visit to
earth, and death the entrance upon a joyful and perpetual home.
.And when the notes of the last trump shall be heard, and sleep
ing millions awake to judgment, its possessor shall be presented
faultless before the throne of God w ith exceeding joy, ami a
crown of life shall never wear away.
Such is piety. Like a tender flower, planted in the fertile
soil of woman’s heart, it grows expanding its foliage and im
parting its fragrance to all around, till transplanted it is set to
bloom in perpetual vigor, and unfading beauty, in the paradise
of God.
Follow the star—it will light you through every labyrinth in
the wilderness of life, gild the eloom that will gather around
you in a dying hour, and bring you safely over the tempestu
ous Jordan of death, into the heaven of promised and settled
rest.
From the Old Dominion,
NO TIME TO READ.
We frequently’ hear this sentence urged as a satisfactory and
conclusive reason for not subscribing to the newspapers of the
day. “I’ve no time to read’’—that is, in plain English, I have
no time to improve my mind, to strengthen the intellectual fac
ulties, enlarge conception, and exalt my nature above ignor
ance and brutality; 1 have no time to make myself useful to
society at large—l am, therefore, content to 'plod along the
highway of human life, allowing others to think for me, living
like a mere civilized Hottentot or Caffree. But yon can find
time to attend a horse-race or cock-fight; you etui find time to
spend hours at the gaming-table and dram-shop ; but x ott have
no time to read! You deserve pity, but will meet with con
tempt.
1 he follow ing, from one of our exchange papers, is in per
fect accordance with our own views. So long as this fallacious
plea of“no time” is urged, so long shall we have the humiliat
ing and degrading fact to record, that in 1807, there were one
thousand and forty-seven adults in the ancient Commonwealth
of Virginia, who, on application for license of marriage, were
unable to write their own names !
“ Reading.— Go into the house ofsomc of our farmers ami
you will find no newspaper, no periodical of any kind, and hard
ly a book. Ask such men to subscribe for a newspaoer, ami
tlwy will tt-H you That they have no time to read one f But
who is so constantly employed as to find no leisure for the im
provement of his mind? Not the farmer certainly; for the
long winter evenings afford him several hours every day,
which he might devote to reading. Not the mechanic ; for
instances are frequent where the industrious artizans have
attained an eminence in the sciences merely by giving their
leisure to study.
One of the most eminent oriental scholars of the age is Pro
fessor Lee, of one of the English Universities, and yet all his
education was acquired during the moments of leisure which he
found while employed as a journeyman carpenter.
The fact is, every man has leisure to read a newspaper, and
those who plead the want of time as an excuse for not taking
one, are almost always the least industrious.’’
Truth. —Adhere rigidly ami undeviatingly to truth ;
but while you express what is true, express it in a
pleasing manner. Truth is the picture, the manner is
the frame that displays it to advantage. If a man
blends his angry passions with his search after truth, become
his superior by suppressing yours, ami attend only to the just
ness and force of his reasoning. Truth, conveyed in austere
and acrimonious language, seldom has a salutary effect, since
we reject the truth, because wc are pn juiiiced against the
mode of communication. The heart must be won before the
intellect can be informed. A man may betray the cause of
truth by his unreasonable zeal, as he destroys its salutary effect
by the acrimony of bis manner. Whoever would be a success
ful instructor must first become a mild ami affectionate friend.
He who gives away to angry invective, furnishes a strong pre
sumption that his cause is bad, since truth is best supported bv
dispassionate argument. The love of truth, refusing to aSso
ciate itself with the selfish and dissocial passions, is gentle, dig
nified and persuasive. The understanding may not be long
able to withstand demonstrative evidence ; but the heart which
is guarded by prejudice and passion, is generally proofagainst
the argumentative reasoning; for no person will perceive truth
when he is unwilling lo find it. Many of our speculative opin
ions, even those which are the result of laborious research, am!
the least liable, to disputation, resemble rarities in the cabinet of
the curious, which may be interesting to the possessor, and to
a few congenial minds, but which are of no use to the world.
Many of our speculative opinions cease to engage attention,
not because we are tigreed about their truth or fallacy, but be
cause we are tired of the controversy. They sink into neg
lect, and, in a future age, their futility or absurdity is acknowl
edged, when they retain a hold no longer on the prejudices
and passions of mankind.
Man is, as it were, a hook ; his birth is the title page; his
baptism, the epistle dedicatory.; his groans ami erving, the
epistle to the l eader; his infancy ami childhood, the contents
of the whole ol the ensuing treatise; his life and actions, the
subject; his crimes and errors, the faults escaped ; his repent
ance, the connexions. Now there are some large volumes in
folio, some little ones in sixteens—some are fairer bound, some
plainer—some in strong vellum, some in thin paper —some
whose subject is piety and godliness, some—and too many
such—pamphlets of wantonness ami folly—but in the last page
of every one of these, there stands a word, which is “finis,”
and this is the last word in every book. Such is the life of
man—some longer,, some shorter, some weaker, some fairer,
some coarser, some holy, some profane ; but death comes in
like “finis” at the last to dose up the whole ; for that is the
end of all men.
Anecdote OF the Giraffe. —The New-Orleans Sun
relates a humorous story ofa very will dressed ami genteel-look
ing person, who was curious to sei; the Giraffe, and who step
ped tip to the “man w< t” receives the nmiicv, with —“ Is the
1 lirafle to be seen here ?” “ \ es, sir.” “ I want to see him.”
“ very well, sir.” “It is fifty cents, i-n’t it ?” “ One dollar,
sir. Fifty cents for servants " “Well, I’m a servan'.”
“ You a servant!” “ Yes, sir.” “ The d—l! Whose?”—
“ Ww.v, sir—your humble servant.” “Walk in, and take a
seat. The joke is worth the price of admission.”
Honesty in Rags —A beggar asking Doctor Smollett
or alms, he gave him, through mistake, a guinea. The poor
fellow on perce.vmg .t, hobbled after him to return it; on
whtcii Smolh tt returned it to him, nith another guinea, ns a re
ward for his honesty, exclaiming, at the same time, “What a
lodging honest} has taken up with !”
[ I.m opcan Vorrcapoiidencc of the Acte } or/: American/]
Paris, Oct. 21st 1838.
A mighty strife, involving the gravest questions, national
and fiscal, has arisen here between the Colonia] Sugar on one
. side, ami the Beet-root Sugar on the other. The colonial am!
• domestic interests arc-in competition and collision in a manner
so urgent ami complex, that the government must be seriously
■ embarrassed ami disquieted. Our old war between the North
and Smith, respecting the tariff, was scarcely more portentous.
What is ca led the Higher Council of Commerce, consisting of
twenty-fix e members, the commercial and political
w orld, holds now its ami has taken cognizance
of the Sugar cause. Cabinet Ministers attend, and
the rival interests are heard by delegates and other advocaies,
in full court, and in every detail of fact ami argument.—
The various ami large branches of industry connected wiih
trade ami navigation of sea-ports; tlm refiners
and rectifiers of the West India Sugar; the manufacturers ami
venders of the exports to the Colonies, Sic. have been set in
vigorous motion ; and it has lint been forgotten to enlist the
leading journals of the capital, most of which, how ever, have
entered into the controversy in order to annoy and injure the
Ministers.
The Colonial delegates linve petitioned for a reduction, to
the amount of 20 francs per hundred kilogrammes, of the
impost on the Colonial sugar, and this immediate, ami by Roy
al ordinance. They alledge that those sugars are burdened
with duties three or four times higher than the beet-root pro
duct ; and that, what with this circumstance and agitation of
the Abolition question, the distress and danger of their consti
tuents are extreme. The four French sugar colonies annually
give employment to four hundred vessels—(one hundred thous
and tons of French shipping)—and five or six thousand sailors;
furnish a market to the manufactures and products of the mo
ther country to the amount of fifty or sixty millions of francs;
benefit materially the whole maritime populatirui and are “ the
chief aliment of the navigation for the great fisheries.” The
government has been reminded that a powerful navy cannot be
maintained without an extensive commercial marine— (sans
murine marchande il n'y a yas de marine mililuire ; and that
upon naval strength and operations depend, in a great degree,
the foreign policy and efficiency of France, as recently exem
plified in the affairs of Navarino, Algiers, the Tagus, ami now
in North and South America. The consiileratiou of heavier
domestic taxes ami personal military liabilities, w hich the beet
root growers ami manufacturers plead in their behalf, is met
by the statement that, in the Colonies, one hundred thousand
j citizens pay annually a budget of seven millions of francs;
I that the Colonial Councils call for contributions larger, pro
portionally than those levied on the French people; ami that,
with regard to military service (rimpot du sang) the Colonists
are always armed and ready at the orders of the king, ami
equality, at least, exposed to invasion ami intestine disorder.—
It is added, that tin; general shipping interest, so deeply invol
ved, employs at home from fifty to sixty thousand operatives, !
and, moreover, that unless relief be afforded to the Colonies,
a regular emaniepation of all slaves will be impossible; all'
must speedily perish together. Touching the privileges of
exporting their produces to other countries than France, noth
ing can be plainer than the injustice of withholding it, if the
impost be continued, by which those products are rendered
wholly unprofitable in the trade with the mother country. The
present revenue of the government fiom the West India sugar
is about twenty-five or six millions of francs; were the duty to
be lowered, the consumption would increase, and the treasury
be more than imleimiified in the end. Some of the Journals
) affirm that, in England, the quantity of sttgnr .cnns.i;med by
; imlividual is quintuple that in France; ami the difference
is ascribed price; but the more general use of the article,
and ability to buy, must be taken into the account. The Col
onies are prohibited from refining their sugar. Nearly al! that
they semi to France goes to the refineries in her sea ports. It
is, therefore, a raw material for French manufacturing skill
and industry, and, viewed in this light, it comes within the Ex
; uctiii’. c aiscretionary power to reduce duties by ordinance.
The beet root planters and manufacturers make out a very
plausible and imposing case. They appeal to the original es- j
forts am! sacrifices in the doubtful enterprise ;' to the costly and
elaborate processes in science and art; to the studied incite
ment am! encouragement from the national ami departmental
authorities; to the political value of their success in rendering )
1’ rance imli’pendent for an article which has become a necessa- 1
ry of life. They rely upon such statistics as the Gdlowinc.—
i he capital vested in the business is not less than sixty millions
■ ol fiancs fifty thousand workmen are employed during the
winter, in the factories: of these, great ami small, there are
Six hundred , the product this year, is one hundred am] ten
millions of pounds, more than half the-consumption of France;
the culture spreads over a space of GO,OOO hectare.', (the hcc
tnre being 2.471,1143 acres; a multitude of oth’r and verx
i diversified branches ol industry are now vitally connected with
\ this one so extended. In the departments where it has been es
tablished, sloth and mendicity have given place to labor and
comfort. Even a single large Beet root farm and factory has,
in every case changed the whole face of things, in a district,
as :f by enchantment. Indeed, if we may credit the instances
quoted, the ameliorations would appear wonderful and admira
ble. On the 17th iust., a large manufacturer, addressing the
Supreme Council, related that on an estate where fotinerly he [
employed seven servants only, and could scarcely feed one
hundred sheep, he ted a thousand, am! employed fifty w orkmen,
since he had introduced there the Beet root culture. Such
facts are calculated to make a deep impression on the council,
ami all who know how much agriculture has suffered and re
mains behind hand in France from many causes. A w riter for
i the Journal des Debats, (17th iust.) in an able ami curious ar-
I tide on the Irrigation of the Fields enumerates those causes,
and adds—“ France, every body agrees, rs essentially an agri
cultural nation ; and still, notwithstanding the superiority ot
our soil and climate—notwithstanding the abundance and ad
mirable distribution of our springs, our streams and our rivers
our soil does yield proportional;! y, the fourth of the product of
that of England.”
The Beet root party protest that the smallest reduction of
the duty on the West India sugar would irretrievably ruin the
domestic manufacture; and they contend that the Executive
has not legal ftieulty to make any change by ordinance ; the
whole subject belonging to the legislative power. The ques
tion was fully discussed and voted at the last session; and when
a duty of 10 francs per 100 kilogrammes, (the kilogramme be
ing 205.5 pounds avoirdupois.) for the first year, and 15 for the
second was imposed upon the indigenous sugar, it was implied
that no alteration was to be attempted within two jears nt least.
Upon that presumption, new fields had been planted, new facto
ries erected ; large investments hazarded.
The domestic manufacturers arc not unwilling that the Col
onies be allowed to carry theirstigar to olhercouutries; for, then,
in due time, they would get possession of the whole Fretieh
market ; but the Colonial delegates observe—“lf wc have so
licited that privilege, it is because we despaired es relit f in
France; the measure showed the hardship of our condition ;
it did not argue that we relied upon the efficacy of the piivi
lege, we feel driven to the necessity of seeking any chance
taking any price for our products where it could be ebiaitied.”
Perish the Colonies, provided we prosper, is the import of
mm h that has been enumerated on the home manufacturer.
Both parties menace the Government wi h their respective ‘
fifty or sixty thousand workmen. I have giv eti you a spi eimcn '
of this in the language of the trading body of Paris. The )
subjoined article from a newspaper of St. Quentin, a large 1
manufacturing town of the Department de L’Aisne, is another 1
of like import. “Strong symptoms break out of the discon- 1
tent which the news of an early reduction of the duty on Colo- 1
nial sugars lias excited in our meridian. The manufacturers '
of native sugar have met, ami many of them have proposed, in '
the event of the threatened measure, that the excisemen should 1
be prevented from entering the manufactories, ami levying the
tax to which indigenous nrintificttire is subject,” This propo •
sed forcible ri'sistaiice to the law indicates tt spirit which the 1
Government must defy. Nullification has its advocates every <
r. Ij. KoniA’soni, moFKJETos?.
where, ami on both sides of the Tariff question. Lafayette
quotes a maxim of Bernadotte, that the French should be ruled
“ with an iron h ind ami a velvet glove.”
Several of the opposition jourmds reproach the Government
'vith improvidence and inconsistency in this affair. The dmm s
lie mamifactme, they say, w.a- left ‘imtaxed for too bmg a time;
it grew exhorbilatitly from inordinate protection; if its ex eli
sion had not been nmhdy encouraged, its pretensions would not
now be so exclusive ami imperious; ] (l <t year, when the pres
ent conflict could have been foreseen, it was specially'favored
>y the Ministers. In fact, Napoleon intended to supplant all
exotic sugar, at the period when lie’despaired of being able to
preserve any west India Islands for Frame. The idea of < beck
ing its advances does not seem to have occurred to the govern
ment, akenhe preservation of Martinique and Guadaiou e was
assure.fl. To give the relief by ordinance, winch the Colonists
refjueu, —en :r tßeexvK.. imposed „„ the dotm Stic product
should be simultaneously withdrawn (a, r- ni - ..
suggest,) is not, 1 think, within tie pierogalive of the Crown.
Nothing can be done legally before the Chambers have acted
upon the question; ami lo them, 1 suppose, it will be referred.
The King has answ end firmly and with just discrimination, to
the passionate addresses which each side has presented to him
in informal audiences. His M.inistt rs must prefer to escape the
entire responsibility of a decision.
It is anticipated that the Abolition of French negro slavery,
whirl) is connected with the sugar question, will occupy the
Legislature early in the next session. The Paris Abolhimiists
have not been idle since last spring. They have constantly
corresponded with the British Societies, ami expert success
from the occurrences in the Briti-h West Judies. ’ They must
succeed—-however strong and well fimndi (I the Ministerial in
clination for delay, if the prediction which I have jn-t read in
the London Courier be verified. “It will not be long before
masters as well as man in our island-', will find that the/tibsii
tntion of free for slave labor has been for the bem fit of both.”
Flic true problem of Negro Emancipation, i; only formed ;
it is not solved. In the London journals, the accounts from
the islands tire contradictory. From them we cannot deduce
any positive conclusion, lierc, respecting the rontliirt of the
black population or the real j ru.-.pi 11 of the Colonies. The
French, generally, question the philanthropy cf England in
the Abolilion of Slavery. They attribute the measure to cal
culations of interest alom—“the manufacture <f Beit root
sugar in Europe, ami other events, having taught hi r ti nt slat e
and sugar islands would, ere long, become unprofitable in tl e
commercial sense.” Some recent number of' the London
rimes or Morning Chronicle (the date of which I cannot rec
ollect) contains (be translation of a long arti- le cn the slave
trade, from the principal Lisbon paper—a stnii-ofii.-iiil answer
and retort for the accusation nJ the Briti-h press ngaimt Pi.r-
Itigal. It i- a. spirited ami curious doctttm t.t.
I have been rather too copious, perhaps, cn tht; Fri m h sugar
question ; but it has iiitenst for cur comitrv, from our Beet
loot undeitakings, and Irotn its points of affinity with our old
larili war ami its connection with the broader subjects of mo
nopoly, high duties, expensive and necessitous government,
.Abolition ol Slavery, Colonial destinies, ami so forth. .
FAITH AND WORKS.
A persen xvho bad peculiar opinions touching the ‘ finl’ns-
I sttrance of faith,” haying occasion to cros„ a ferry, availed him-
I self of the opportunity to interrogate the boatman as to the
grounds of his belief, assuring him that if lie had faith he was
certain ofabltjssed immortality. The man of oar said h« bad
] ttlxvays eptertajnc’d a diflercn: notion oftoe subject, am] begged
to give an illustration ol liis opinion. “ Let us suppose,” said
the ferryman, “ that one of these oars is called faith -and the
other Tvorks, ami try their s< veral merit--.” Accordinglv,
llirowing down one oar in the boat, he proceeded to pull the
othei pith till lus strength, upon which the boat turned round
and made no way. “Now,’ said he, “you perceive faith
w on’t do, let us try if works can.”—Seizing the oilier oar, ami
living it the same trial, the same conseqm ttces ensued
“ Works,” said lie, “you see, don’t do either; let its try them
together. Ihe result was successful ; the boat shi t through
the waves, ami soon reached the wished-for haven. “This,”
j said the honest ferryman, “ is the way by which 1 hope to ba
wafted over the troubled waters of this woild, to the penct fid
shore of immortality”
AN EXTRACT.
Alas ! bow little do we appreciate a mother’s tenderness
while living—How heedless are we, in voutb, of all her anxie
ties am] kindness. But when she is dead and gone, and when
the cares ami coldness of the world conic witheiing to cur
ly’.’Tts; when we find how hard it is to find true sxmpathv, how
few love us for ourselves, how few will befriend ns in our mis
b'iNtim’.-, then it is that we thmk of the mother that w e have
>ost. Li> lute I had always lovcu my mother, even in mv most
heedless day s ; but 1 felt how inconsiderate ami how ineffectual
bad been my love. My heart melted as 1 r> traced the days of
infancy, when 1 was led by a mother’s hand, ami rocked to
sleep in a mother’s arms, ami was without care or s urow,
‘ Oh ! my mother, exclaimed I, burying my face again in the
giass.of the grave, * Oh ! that I were once more by vour side,
j sleeping never to wake again on the cares mid troubles of this
[ world.’
♦
ADVICE TO THE LADIES.
A pretty hand and a pretty foot always go together when
xve speak of the one we always think of‘the other. For this
reason, stepping on a woman’s foot is equivalent to squeezing
her hand, and equally proper, hut sometimes more cimvcnient,
as it can be done under the t *blc. Be careful, however, never
to attempt it at a crowded table for fear of making a mistake.
We once saw a lady very much confused, who was living to
give a signal to a gentleman opposite, and instead of his , she
trod ami pressed on the corn-covered toes of an old bachelor.
He bore it as long as he could, and then very quietly remarked,
“ Madam, when you wish to step on a gentleman’s toes, be
particular ami get the foot that belongs to him—for the last fixe
minutes you have been jamming my corns most unmercifullv.”
Too Late for Church. —An old negro in Connecticut,
who had always been vei y constant in alt, ndittg church, ami
prided himself furthermore, in being among the fir-t there •
happened one morning to be •!< tained far beyond Isis usual
uour. “John, ’said Coffee, as lie stood carding his wool for
the occasion, ‘ hab de kiit’ness to tell me what clock him be.”
“Can’t tt II you, Caesar, the clock has stopped, but I should
think it was pretty considerable late.” “Ise wouldn’t be ex
prised il twarhall hour top <>’ dat, ’ returned Caesar, ami tnog
ged across lots for church, as fast as his bandy legs could enrrv
him. He entered towards the close of the sermon, just as the
parson was reiterating his text fortlie last time; “The first
mail be last and the i ist first.” Cufiee turned Aipott his hei 1
.in.i win! out exclaiming : “Dal means me—l coined last, but
I-e out lesser, any now—,'e next time dis nigger goes l ite to
meet’ii, he no go at all.”—V. Y. JFhig.
f 1 im- leading propensity ot Dr. Franklin’s mind,” says
blackw <iod s Magazine, “great as it was—the ftt< uhv which
hbi.ie nini rem.u k tide, and set him apart from other men.—the
generator, in truth, of all his power—was good sense—only
p ilia, good setve, nothing more. He was not a man of genius;
i iiere w. is no bi illiancy about him; little or no fervor ; noth
ing like poetry or eloquence, and vet, bv the sole, untiring,
continual operation this humble, unpretending quality of the
inimi, be came to do more in the world of science—more in
connci l —more in the revolution of empires—uneducated, or
sell-educated as he was—'han five hundred others might have
done, each with more genius, more fervor, more eloquence and
more brilliancy.”
Absence of Mind. —Ti e latest case we have heard, is
that ofa gentleman wlm pat hisd g to lied ami kicked himself
down stairs!
WiSCMLfE NO.