Newspaper Page Text
Edited by THOMAS HAYNES.
VOLUME VII.—NUMBER 13.
THE WIFE TO HER lIUSBANP.
You took me, William, when a girl, untn your home and heart,
To bear in all your after-fate, a fond and faithful part;
And tell me have I ever tried that duty to forego,
Or pined there was no joy forme when you were sunk in wo ?
No; I would rather sharp YOORtcar than any other’s glee;
For though you’re nothing to Hie world, you’re all the world ‘to me.
You make a palace of my shes, this rough hewn bench a throne ;
There’s sunlight for me in youir smiles, and music in vour tone.
I look upon you when you sleep—my eyes with tears grow dim ;
cry, * Oh, Parent of the poftr f look down from Heaven on him ’.
Behold him toll from day to day, exhausting strength and soul;
1 - ate irir 1 - ■UMMnjr t~ LauL far make him whpleP
And when at hist relieving Sleep has on my eyelids amiVd,
How oft are they forbade to close in slumber by our child ?'
1 take the little murmurcr that spoils my span of rest,
And feci it is a part of thee I lull upon my breast.
There’s only one return I crave, I may not need it long,
And it may soothe thee when I’m where the wretched feel no wrong;
I ask not for a kinder tone, for thou wort ever kind;
I ask not for less frugal faie, my fare I do not mind;
I ask not for attire more gay—if such as I
Suffice to make me fair to thee, for more I murmur not.
But I would ask some share of hours that you on clubs bestow ;
Os knowledge which you prize so much, might I not something know ?
Substract from meetings amongst men each eve an hour forme,
Make me companion of your soul, as I may safely be.
If you will read, I’ll sit and work; then think when you’re away,
Less tedious I shall find the time, dear William, of your stay.
A meet companion soon I’ll be for e’en your studious hours,
And teacher of those little ones, you call your cottage flowers;
And>if we be not rich and great, we may be wise and kind,
And as my heart can warm your heart, so may my mind your mind.”
SONG OF THE AMERICAN GIRLS.
Our hearts are with our native land,
Our song is for her glory ;
Iler warrior’s wreath is in our hand,
Our lips breathe on her story;
Her lofty hills and valleys green
Arc smiling bright before us :
And like a rainbow sign is seen,
Her proud flag waving o’er us.
And there are smiles upon our lips,
For those who meet her foeman;
For Glory’s star knows no eclipse
When smiled upon by women.
Forthose who brave the mighty deep,
And scorn the threat of danger;
\\ e’ve smiles to cheer—and tears to weep,
For every ocean ranger.
Our hearts are with our native land,
Our song is for her freedom;
Our prayers are for her gallant band
Who strike where honor leads them.
We love the taintless air we breatha—
’Tis Freedom*! endless dower;
We’ll twine for him a fadeless wreath
Who scorns a tyrant’s power.
Tlie.y tell of Prance’s beauties rare—
Os Italy’s proud daughters—
Os Scotland’s lasses—England’s fair—
And nymphs of Shannon’s waters:
We need not all their boasted charms,
Though lords around them hover;
Our glory lies in freedom’s arms—
A freeman for a lover.
THE SAILOR’S GRAVE.
The wild winds sung the funeral dirge,
And the sea bird caught the strain ;
It echo’d o’er the rolling surge,
Across the distant maine.
Thy form beneath the billow,
Shall rest awhile in peace;
The rocks thy head must pillow,
While thy spirit seeks release.
Poor sailor, rest—thy voyage is o’er,
Thy bark at anchor rides;
Oh, may’st thou find a peaceful shore,
No more thou’ll stein the tides.
FUNNY.—We are fond of good humor, it is to
our existence what sunshine aud dew are to dowers ;
but it ought to have its proper time and place. There
is a friend of ours who frequently sets our office into an
uproar by his hearty laughs, and most ofthein caused
too by the misfortunes of others. The other day he
entered roaring like a steamer.
“Ha! ha! ha!—ho!—l’ve had such sport —I
believe! shall kill myself laughing, 110 ! ho! ho!—
he !”
“ What’s the matter now ? Have you found out
who committed the forgery ?”
“ No, but—haw ! —haw ! —haw ! —hay ! —Joe got
choaked in trying to speak the truth yesterday, and
Simon astonished his inner man by a glass of cold
water ; I’ve done laughing about these trifles—but
just now—ha ! ha ! ha ! —I saw a councilman run
down by a fat sow, and the thought struck me that the
animal had a grudge against him on account of the
hog law. She was only obeying the dictates of na
ture, such a pitch as the old fellow had ! —and Low he
did bristle up, and swear vengeance against swine !
I“—ka ■ ha • l> a • Baltimore Clipper.
IT TAKES THE WOMEN.—Give us a woman
for playing a good trick after all. Willi the editor
of the Boston Post, we agree that there is no mascu
line clumsiness, coarseness, about their tricks—they
will dupe a man so ingeniously, that be will actually
laugh at his own stupidity, and then bless the cause of
its development. But, perhaps, the close of the last
sentence will hold true in the case we are about to
mention, viz.:—“ A custom house officer, near the
Belgian frontier, would insist on depriving a girl on
the road of a basket which was padlocked. The girl
went her way, and the officer took the contraband
prize to the customs, and on opening it, found a
blooming baby added to bis items of family expendi
tures.”
A GOOD BARGAIN.—An old continentalist ar
rived at an inn, and asked for refreshment. The
hostess set before him a bone of ham, and a crust of
bread. Her son, who had been an officer, gave the
poor fellow a shilling when he had done picking, and
bid him march ofl. S »on alter the old woman comes
'in to look for her pay.—“ Mother,” says the officer,
''iv 1 ' 1 ll “’ picking of that bone be worth.'”—
uw n orie ail<l »’*-p cncc » ll| ose hard times.”
“Well,” cries the humane son, “I have made a fine
bargain, and saved sixpence, for 1 gave him btit a
shilling to pick the whole,”
4
Be Stoirortt of Unimv
THE PERVERSENESS OF WOMAN.
There is tin old story of a man who had matried a
young lady and >yho had a friend somewhat sceptical
as to the obedient tendency of the wife’s disposition,
much to the dissatisfaction of the Benedick who
strongly-asserted and warmly asseverated that his will
was law, and that she never by any chance disobeyed
any'wish or injunction of bis,
“Have you ever tried her temper in that respect?”
said the friend, have you ever desired her positively
not to do any particular thing? for that is my point
since you tell me she nevet 'refuses to do whatever
you desire her to do.”
“No!” said the affectionate husband, “I never have
found occasion to desire her not to do anything but”
“That’s it! as the old women say,” cried the friend
female dbedience is proved by negatives; tell her not
to do att£_jwii ficuJnr thing, give no particular reason
w hy and see if she does not do it.”
“Ridiculous!” said the husband.
“Try!” said the friend.
“Well,” replied the husband, “agreed! we are both
going away for the day, what proof shall I put her
to? what shall I tell her not to do? may she not play
on her harp? must she not sing or draw? or in fact
j tell me what you want me to prohibit her doing and I
stake my life she does it not.”
“Oh, no!” said the friend, “drawing and singing
and playing the harp are things which she might ab
stain from without a murmur, or what is more essen
tial to the affair a wonder; because she has sung and
played and drawn a thousand times, it is an injunction
not to do something she has never done before, for in
stance, tell her when we go out not to climb some
particular hill for particular reasons which yon do not
choose to give her: or byway of carrying the princi
ple out to its fullest extent, warn her not to attempt
to ride on the dog’s back.”
“Neptune’s back!” said the husband.
“Yes,” replied the friend “on the back of the most
valuable Newfoundland dog, the bravest and faith
fulcst of his breed.”
“Ride on a dog’s back!” exclaimed Benedick,
“how can you be so absurd ? as if—”
“Ah! there it is,” said the friend, “as if; now take
my word for it it you issue the,injunction without giv
ing her any reason, Harriet will break it.”
The most incredulous of men rejoiced at the idea
which he felicitously ridiculed, and resolved upon
trying the experiment in order to establish his Har
riet’s superiority of mind, and his friend’s exceeding
silliness.
He parted from his Harriet, and with tender fond
ness she clung round his shoulder, as he said in quit
ting her:
“Harriet, dearest we have seldom been separated
since our marriage; I shall be back soon; take care
of yourself love, but just attend to one thing I am go
ing to say dear; don’t try to ride upon Neptune’s
back while we are away.”
“M hat!” said the laughing Harriet, “ride upon
Neptune; ha, ha, ha! what at*odd idea —is that all
you warn me against? why, what a ridiculous notion,
why should you tell me that? What nonsense!”
“That my dear,” said the husband, “is a secret;
all J beg of you is not to ride upon Neptune.”
“Ride upon Neptune,” repeated the lady, and she
laughed again, and they parted.
When Benedick and his friend returned to dinner,
the laughing Harriet did not as usual present herself
to receive them; there was a sort of gloom pervading
the bouse; the footman who opened the door looked
dull; the butler who came into the ball looked as
white as his waistcoat; the lady’s own maid rushed
down stairs evidently to prevent a scene.
“Where is your mistress?” Said Benedick.
“Up stairs sir,” said the maid, there is nothing in
the world sir the matter, only my mistress has had a
fall; quite a little fall on the walk in the flower gar
den; and has cut her face the least bit in the world,
sir; all will be well to-morrow.
“A fall!” said Benedick.
“Humph!” said the friend.
And up stairs ran the anxious husband.
“What has happened!” exclaimed he, catching her
to his heart and seeing her beautiful countenance a lit
tle marred; “how did this happen?”
Harriet cried and hid her face.
The explanation came altogether clearly before the
friends of the family; but the accident was generally
thought to have arisen from Harriet’s having endea
vored to take a ride on Neptune’s back.”
A LIV ING PINE-APPLE.—There was a com
petition between two German princes who would show
the most choice dishes at table. A heavy bet was ta
ken, and judges chosen. They attended an enter
tainment of one of the princes, which was so profuse
and costly that they conceived it could not be out
stripped by any other. After this they were present
at the second prince’s when there graced the centre
of the table what was considered a pine-apple of enor
mous size. \\ hen the dessert had been spread around
it, the prince calling the attention of the judges said
loudly, “Borolaw>ky, come forth!” On this the
supposed pine fell to pieces when it appeared the
dwarfcount h id been cased up who respectfully bow
ed round to the company when the judges declared
that the socond prince had gained the bet the other
not having so dainty a dish to set before his guests
as the pine and its contents.
SINGULAR LAWSUIT.—An English paper
says that a curious lawsuit is now going on in Perth
in Hungary, between a butcher and a cattle-dealer.—
The butcher had lent 1000 florins to the dealer, who
sometime afterwards, called on him as he was at din
ner and laid down a note for 1000 florins, thanking
him at the same time for the loan.—The window be
ing open the note was blown by a guest of wind into
the soup tureen. The butcher took it out and hold
ing it by the corner to allow the grease to drain off it
was seized by the dog and swallowed. Perceiving
that he had done wrong the dog absented himself and
did not return urttil evening when he was killed and
opened but the note was of course by this time w holly
dige ted. The butcher has brought an action for the
1000 florins, which the dealer refuses to pay twice
'over, considering that the note having gone into the
I hands of the butcher, he alone ought'to bear the loss.
OUR CONSC lEN C E OUR CO CNT | Y OU R I’ ART Y.
MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY MORNING, APRIL 21, 1840.
AFFLICTIONS BENEFICIAL.
Whoever contemplates the various calamities that !
fill the world, and the still more numi roti's avenues by
which we are exposed to distress. ' ih be affected with
a sense of the misery of man.—ln Cis survey, we need
not search for remote and distant evils; we need not
crowd our imagination with the h/rrors of war, the
progress of armies, or the desolations pf States. In
the most familiar walks of life w;e .iect with scenes at
which humanity must bleed: scene’ of distress lie open
on every side: every quarter is I 1 d with the groans
of the dying, and lamentations tire dead. In the
mass of mankind we can scarcely select 411 individual
in whose bosom there does not rankle unpublished
griefs; and, could we look into lire hearts of the most
tranquil, we should often find therp a prey trt unpitied
regrets, torn with anxiety, and Weeding with disap
pointments. .
Retiring from tins nrefanchoiy spectacle, wunoiit
looking any further we might be ready to consider
the world as a great nursery of disease, a vast recep
tacle of miseries, filled with being/whom Providence
has endowed with sensibility to suffer, rather than ca
pacities to enjoy; but to him who views the moral in
fluence of afflictions, the evils they are intended-to
correct, and the benefits they impart, they will ap
pear in a very different light; he will consider them
as at once the punishments of vice, and the Cure’of it.
Sorrow is, indeed, the offspring of guilt, but the pa
rent of wisdom. Stern in her aspects, and severe iu
her deportment, she is, however, senton a message of
mercy. She is destined to follow in the footsteps of
intemperance, to break her enchantments, to expose
her delusions, and to deliver from’traldcm such as;
are entangled in her snares, or are sleeping in her ’
arms. Whoever surveys the course of his past life, 1
with a view’ to remark the false steps he has taken in
it, will find that as they have been preceded by indis
cretion, they have been recalled by distress. To ev
ery object our attachment is proportioned to the plea
sures we have received or expect to receive from it,
and the passion will continue to be cherished as long
as the recollection of it calls up ideas of pleasure ra
ther than ol pain. Now, every vicious pursuit is
founded on indulgence, and disguised by ineiiiiiition.
To the licentious and abandoned, therefore, there is
no prospect of the termination of their vices, till, by I
actual experience of the miset ies they inflict, they con- I
vey to the mind more sentiments of aversion than of
love.
From the moment that the enchantment is dispell
ed, the false colours stripped off’ they will be regard
ed as specious deformities and real dangers. Multi
tudes who could never be pursued ijy the calls of in
terest, or the voice of conviction, to restrain tlie li
cense of their passions, and abandon their criminal
pursuits, have been reclaimed by the lash of adver
sity. The decay of health, the desertion of friends,
and the neglect of the world, have not unfrequently
softened those hardier .spirits whom the of
virtue have been displayed tn vaTST*
Nor is sorrow less effectual in the correction of foi
bles, than iu the extinction of vice.
A consideration of the benefit of afflictions should
teach us to bear them patiently when they fall to our
lot; and to be thankful to Heaven for having planted
such barriers around us, to restrain the exuberance of
our follies and our crimes.
Let these sacred fences be removed; exempt the
ambitious from disappointment, and the guilty from
remorse; let luxury go unattended with disease, and
indiscretion lead into no embarrassments or distresses;
our vices would range without control, and the impet
uosity o( our passions have no bounds; every family
would be filled with strife, every nation with carnage,
and a deluge of calamities would break in upon ns
which wou’d produce more misery in a year than is
inflicted by the band of Providence in a lapse of ages.
Robt. Hall.
ALWAYS HAPPY.—An Italian bishop, strug
gling through great difficulties w ithout repining, met
with much opposition in his episcopal functions with
out betraying the least impatience. One of his inti
mate friends, who highly admired those virtues w hich
he thought it impossible to imitate, once asked the
prelate if he could impart the secret of being always
easy.
“ Yes,” replied the old man, “ I can teach you my
secret,” and with great facility. It consists in making
a right use of my eyes.”
His friend begged him to explain himself.
“ Most willingly,” returned the bishop. “In
whatever state I am, I first look up to lieaven, and re
member that my principal business here is to get there
—I then look down upon the earth, and call to mind
how small a space i shall occupy of it when I come to
be interred ; I then look around in the world, and ob- I
serve what multitudes there are, in all respects more
unhappy than myself. Thus'] learn where true hap
piness is placed, where all our cares must end, and
what little reason 1 have to despair or complain.”
HANDBILL EXTRAORDINARY—A Mr.
Keely, of Oxford, Ohio, who calls himself a “ a bar
gainer general,” issued on the Ist of January last a
handbill descriptive of his stock of goods, &c., of
which the following is a specimen :
Hats, Caps, Boots and Shoes, of the most fashionable
and best quality ; and of ail sorts and sizes,
from the sublime to the ridiculous.
Dry Goods and Hardware.
Broad Cloths of all kinds and colors; Jewelry, and
Brooms of all kinds ;
Ghnblets, Padlocks, Currycombs, Shovels, the long- j
est kind of a cross-cut Saw, Wooden Bowles,
Stocks, Baskets, Penknives, German Silver Spoons, I
Garters, Umbrellas, Snuffers.
The invincible Dr. Fisk’s water-proof Blacking; ,
Musical Instruments, of all kinds.
All cases in law matters attended to before tire high I
Justice’s Court.
Auctioneering of the loudest kind interwoven by
ventriloquism.
in contemplation an eight day’s clock, to run six
teen days; every twenty-four hours to lay sixteen
eggs, and give two gallons of milk daily. 1
When in the course of htnnnn events it becomes necessary for on-'
man to pay his debts, a decent respect for the purses and opinions of i
mankind, solemnly declare, that if ho has not specie or bank notes, he
should not preserve his credit by borrowing. Give your own note, like
an hotH’.U man—if, like anu ral, you never pay it. Settle fair at least.
Reported for the Journal of Commerce.
Police Office—Saturday.
MELANCHOLY CONSEQUENCE OF IN
TEMPERANCE.
At a late hour on Friday night, a watchman met a
man it> the street, whose conduct betokened him a
perfect maniac, and the watchman accordingly Lad
him conveyed to the Watchhouse. where he said his
name was- 'J II . On Saturday morning
he was brought before the magistrate but wassstillso
dreadfully aflected with delirium tremens, or insanity
in some other form, that it was found useless to ask
him any questions, and he was sent back to prison.
In the course of tbt^day a gentleman happened to
see ll—-—s name on the Watch returns and became
curious t!T ascertain if he could be a person whom he
had known under happier auspices. He accordingly
'.vent dowti to th'e cell and at once satisfied himself
that the unhappy lunatic was his former acquaint
ance. And now for a brief outline of his unfortunate
career. II ’is by birth an Irishman, and con-
nected with some of the first families in England and
Ireland. At an early period in life he entered Trin
ity College, Dublin, wdiere lie graduated, and after a
most brilliant collegiate career, left it. He then be
came an attache to the then Bishop of Clogher, with
the view of taking holy orders, in the established
Church of England, in w hich, from his high connex
ions, he had good reason to expect a speedy promo
tion. 'I he unnatural propensities of the Bishop of
Clogher having, however, been discovered, and him
self obliged to fly his country, to avoid a probably
ignominious death, H changed his mind as to
his future career, and obtained a commission in the
English army. The regiment to which he was at
tached was sent to the Peninsula, and during a con
siderable part of the war II ’s regiment was in
active service, and he conducted himself so as to ob
tain the character of an excellent officer. When the
war terminated bis regiment was abandoned, and lie
again turned himself to the church, and was ordained
and became chaplain to a regiment. His regiment
afterwards went to Canada, where he accompanied it, '
and there he imbibed those habits which have been his .
destruction. As is always the case, he did not be-j
come an liabiit;?J drunkard, at once, but having on
one or two occasions appeared puu’it'!'/ in a stale of. 1
intoxication, he was obliged to relinquish his situation ]
ii) the church, lie then for a short time supported:
himself as a tutor, but his unfortunate habits soon de- i
priced him of this resource. He next edited, and we
believe, first established a paper at Montreal, which :
lias now a considerable circulation. From this situa- '
tion however, he was also soon driven by intemper- (
ance.
He then cfime to NewYork,where he was employed |
as assistant editor to one of the morning papers, anil I
proved himself a man of Very, superior talent. But I
Ills unrelenliug enemy, alcohol, \ ery.soon left liim >
again without employment, 4ind after enduring ex”-]
treme poverty for some time, he became clerk to one j
of the theatres. His habits now became worse than 1
ever, and he was so seldom sober, that he was soon !
turned away from the theatre, and found himself with- i
out any means of earning bread. In order to pre-j
vent himself from starving, he was next obliged to 1
become a mere menial drudge, and run of errands, or |
do any thing by which he could earn a shilling. He :
now seemed to have lost all recollection ol what he
had oftce been, or might still be if he could get rid of
bis miserable habit of intemperance, and be became aj
low drunkest loafer who would associate with anyone
or go any u here, to get a glass of grog. Alcohol
was all lie now cared for, ami he was seldom or never
sober. Such a career could not but soon close in
death er insanity, and the latter has bden the conse
quence in his case, and he is to be sent to the Luna
tic Asylum. Thus an accomplished scholar, possess
ing talents, of the most respectable connections, and
who Legau the world v»ith a brilliant pt ospect, and all
the means of making a glorious career, has it cut
short, while yet in the prime of life, by indulging in
that most irrational of all sensual gratifications,
ALCOHOL. Aud as if nothing should be wanting
to render his fate melancholy and deplorable, he lias
a voting and interesting family, depending for their
daily bread, on their own feeble and inefficient indus
try, or the world’s cold charity.
A POLICE STORY.—An honest vender ofthat
spring staple of our market shad, was standing before
his wagon at the lower end of the market house on
Friday evening thinking about hitching to, and de
parting, having sold out bis stock and packed away
the proceeds in his pocket, when a man passed along,
and dropped a paper which was picked up immedi
ately after by another man who followed close at his
heels, and who called the attention of the countryman
to it asking him to observe what the paper contained.
Tin re was a 25 cent piece wrapped in it:—“Now said
the finder, “the man that dropped this will no doubt
return presently when he misses It, and in case he
does we’ll have a little fun with him. Let us put a
cent in the place of the quarter, and he not knowing
the trick will venture a bet perhaps, that there is a
quarter in the paper. This was accordingly done
and the paper laid upon the ground. Sure enough
the loser returned and picked up the paper, said,
“Ah, 1 thought I dropped it here.” “What is it you
dropped!” asked the second man. “A quarter of a
dollar,” was the answer. “Before you open it,” said
the other I’ll bet you S3O it is only a cent. Won’t
you bet the same!” said he turning to the countryman
—and thirty dollars of the shad money was planked
up with S3O from each of the two strangers. But the
astonishment of the shad merchant may be conceived
when instead of the cent which he had seen wrapped
in the paper there was the identical 25 cents which
had been taken from it in its place? “I have won the
b ’t!” said the first scamp (the other being his accotn- >
plice in the trick) anil snatching the slakes, hurried |
oil, followed by his companion leaving the country-|
man in a stale of bewilderment, and bewailing liis loss.
He was advised to apply to the police, and officer
Guy succeeded the next morning in capturing the
pair of swindlers, but before thev were brought before
the Mayor, the countryman very improperly compro
mised with them on receiving back his S3O which
they gladly suf rendered to escape the fangs of jus
tice. Norfolk llcrtiH. J
P. C. KOBiXSOY, Proprietor.
WHOLE NUMBER 325.
Fjom the Mocoti Telegraph, of April 14.
A TOBACCO TRADER MURDERED.
A murder was committed on the body of an ntW
known person, on the 3d of April, at night, in Lau
rens county, Georgia, at or near Robert Higdon’s
mills, supposed to be 60 years of age, very stout and
robust for his age ; he had a two-horse wagon, parti
ally loaded with tobacco, in company with a young
mini, who he said he had hired to drive his wagon
and while at supper, we suppose, was struck a mortal
blow with the edge of an axe, which he bad with him,-
which blow partially severed bis head Irom his neck
and we have every reason to believe said blow was
struck by the young man that was driving his wagon,
he being absent next morning, and we suppose took
one hoise from the wagon, and made his escape to
w lU’ds and the other broke loose and followed
sifter him, as one rope was cut with a knife and the
uthtf--firfiKen, and thtr ildlrtg or a horse was' heard
passing houses towards Macon for eight or ten miles,
and a loose horse following but a few minutes after-
We suppose the murderer took all the money and pa
pers belong to the deceased, as there was no papers nor
money found in his possession—only part of a news
paper entitled the North Carolinian, on the margin of
which was written, William Bostick. We suppose
the deceased came from North Carolina or Virginia,
and left home early in February last, and said he had ;
deposited tobacco in Macon for sale ; and no doubt
the young man who we suppose murdered him, has
made his way there, to get the proceeds of said depo
site. The old man was heard to call the driver
Terrell- Any person knowing the name of the above
individual, w ill please make it public.
Description.— The man murdered was about 5 feet
6 or 8 inches high ; his hair very white, and toler
able long. The young man, from what we could un
derstand, was about 5 feet high, well made, supposed
to be about 20 years of age, and of light complexion ;
he said he staid in Macon three or four months last
year.
A liberal reward will be given by the citizens of
Laurens county, for the apprehension and delivery of
said TERRELL.
The deceased said he was a man of family; and
they are hereby requested to call on John M. Hamp-'
ton, for the effects of said deceased.
J. M. HAMPTON,
April 1,1340. JOHN F. SPICER.
Gy Editors in Virginia, North and South Caroli
■ na, and Georgia, will do an act ofjustice by noticing
this.
'file youth Terrell, noticed in the above communi- 7
'cation, as the supposed murderer, was arrested on the
I race course, near this city, on Tuesday last, and im
i mediately conveyed to Laurens county, there to stand
his trial. He had in bis possession a number of ma
nuscript papers, supposed, to belong to the unfortu-
Inate man who was murdered. We have no further
panic; l-'i's that will shed lijjit t*pvn this mysterious
! arniir; but there is no doubt, when a judicial investi-
I gation takes place, that the murd°r will implicate more
i than one, and stand upon record as one of cold
blooded enormity.
The following is a beautiful passage from Lord
Brougham’s Sketches of the times of George 111. It
relates to Napoleon’s ill fated Russian campaign, and.'
the disastrous retreat of the legions :
“ But the vaulting ambition of the great conquerof
at last overshot itself. After his most arduous and
perhaps most triumphant campaign, undertaken with
a profusion of military resources unexampled in the anr
nals of war, the ancient capital of the Russian empire
was in his hands ; yet, from the teftisal of the enemy
to make peace, and the sterilty of the vast surrounding
country, the contest was bootless to his purpose. He
had collected the mightiest army the world ever saw;
from all parts of the continent he had gathered hrs.
forces; every diversity of blood, and complexion, anct
tongue and garb, aud weapon, shone along his line r’
the resources of whole provinces moved through the .
kingdoms which his arms held in aw e ; the artillery of
of whole citadels traversed tire fields; the cattle on a
thousand hills were made the food of the myriads
whom he poured into the plains of Eastern Europe,
where blood flowed in rivers, and the earth was
w hitened with men’s bones. But this gigantic enter
prise, uniformly successful, was found to have no ob
ject, w hen it had no longer an enemy to overcome,"
and the victor in vain sued to the vanquished for
peace. The conflagration of Moscow in one night
began his discomfiture, which the frost of auotber
night completed. Upon the pomp and circumstance
of unnumbered warriors—their cavalry, their guns,'
their magazines, their equipage—descended
flake by flake, the snow of a northern night. The
hopes of Napoleon w ere blighted ; the retreat of his',
armament was cut off’; and his doom sealed far mqr.e.
irreversibly,than if the conqueror of an hundred
had been overthrown in battle, and made captive with
half his force. All his subsequent efforts to regain
the power he had lost, never succeeded in countervail
ing' the efforts of that Russian night. The fire of Iris
genius burned, if possible, brighter than ever. In
two campaigns his efforts were more than human, his\
resources more miraculous than before, his valor more
worthy of the prize he played for. But all was vain.
His weapon was no longer in his hand ; his army
was gone ; and his adversaries no more quailing uh
der the feelings of his superior nature, had discovered
him to Ire ; incible, like themselves, and grew hold in'
their turn.”
HORRIBLE VENGENCE.—On the night <#f
the 19th ult., tl.e village of Falsoe Tharkenap, In
Hungary, containing 220 habitations and a popula
tion of 900 souls, was entirely consumed. In the day'
the daughter of a rich farmer was married to a young 1
I matt of the village of Lechy. At midnight, when the
: happy pair retired, Charles Thelkey, who had sought
! the hand of the bride, but had been refused set fire to”
the dwelling and it was completely enveloped in"
flames which spread throughout the whole place. Up
wards of 200 persons perished in the conflagaration,
and 300 more were severely injured. The bride was
among the first tmd the bridegroom one of the other
sufferers. Thelkey, the incendiary, is in custody/
“ On eagle’s wings immortal scandals fly,
Whilst virt’ous fictions are but born to die A ’*