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^ rjifil GEORGIA APR AMD REPUBLIC. ,iVEK II. PRI j\ C E. —PUBLISHED SERIES—VOL. I. NO. 47. MACON. TUESDAY MORNING, irfELfiaHAPH A REPirjpiIC. !>** ...,r-r> FVEItV TL'ESDAV WORKING, iJ-CBLl - H ED EVERY TUESDAY 31 BY o. h. prince, r-jiHF.K DOLLARS TER ANNUM, R 1 ABLY in advance are inserted at $1 OO per and JO cents per square tor i .orsaTWBMKOTS « forth. insertion, I ' . p-.r realier. J deduction will be made to those who adver- of LANDS, by Administrators. Exeru- Vfl.arJUM* ar® required by law, to be liald on the I |lrt '5> f 1 la* in the month, between the hours of ten ;u the f.*lT u ” n J three in the afternoon, at the Court-lmuse, in >jr* a00 "'*which the land is shunted. Notice of these Ugh. in a public gazelle SIXTY DAYSpre- I «•*!* JJIKGROIIS must be made at a public auction - faesiay of the month, between the usual hsura *.5a rtthe place of public sales in the county where the 4“ »f isitimentary. of Administration or Guardianship, "f, »““ begl, % n, V “ .to the d*y °f sale- 1 ;.fi»s^° , c rs t Tuesday Millie pl*eeo .. ssftesutnentary ^ . . - If**" fC been granted, first jiving fclXT^ UA\ notice iMj. onc olihe public qateues ofthis Stale, and at the •k*f i *J*. Court house, where such sales are lo be held. 'VfjLI for the sale ofPersonal Properly musL be given in *** r fOUTY davs previous to the day of sale. 1 y “i!elathe Debtors and Creditors of an eatate must be i£^Z?ap£L1^VriJlU made to the Connor Or- Irave to sell LAND, must be published for ’ f *^u°rWve 3 t'o sell NF.QROF.S must be publi.hed ?e0UIt MONTHS, before any order absolute sha.t be hereon by the Court. . T.!nos-s fur Inters of Administration, mist be publish- i- l.dnvs—for dismission from administration. wonM- •*«*••»th—br dismission from Guardianship, forty , )f the foreclosure of Mortsa ge must be published ,U,t 0 rfa>‘r months—fir establishing lost pap era. for (Yigoce of three months—far compelling titles from W/or administrators. where n Bond has been given X deceased, the foil space of three months. Vuicitinas will «l way« he conunued according to these, , _i renuirements.unless otherwise ordered. VtMlTTANCEd BY MAIL.— ‘A postmaster may en- j, a letter to the publisher of a newspaper, to * iT.„C,-riDtion ofa third person and frank the letter if llnoee by bim-elf."—Amos Kent all. P. if. G. of the Briitania.—The dificr- ricao and Knglish Custom-house 7 daun.—Female Dress.—Bus the sJoctot’s orders, etc. WILLIS’S LKtTERS VllO.tt LOINDOX. NUMB HR ONE. What the writer ha* seen of this world fer twenty-fit days.—The pasaeuge ence between the Ami officers.—The workix ties.—Writing against My Dear Morris—All I have seen of Eng land fer the last twelve days, lias been the four walls of a bed-roomi and, as all I saw of the world fur the twelve days previous was the in terior of a packet’s state-room, I may fairly claim, like the razor-grinder, to have “ no sto ry to tell-” Ton shall have, however, what cobwebs I picked from the corners. If the * Briltnnia’ had burnt on the passage, and a phoenix had arisen from its ashes, the phoenix would have been a well compounded cosmopolite, for—did you ever see such vari ety of nation in oue ship’s company, as this ? POETRY. From the United States Gazette- HUES OK THE DEATH OF MARSHAL NEY. «Itloirs and mingles in the air. With that of lost Labedoveiie— With iliac of him whose honored grave Contain* ‘The Bravestof tiie Brave.'"—Byron. Not only on the listed held, Where war's dread trump is heard on l.igh, Awl man rejoice their lives to yield, It it the patriot's lot to die! Bo* oft.o’ercnme by mighty wrong. The rictim of th' oppressor’s bate, Selected fi»m the noble throng, He meets his sad but glorious fate. Yet not in vain his blood is abed; fls :h stern revenge the more endears The memory of the faithful deed, And hatl.es il in a nation's fears. What though no monumental stone* Records ihe Hero • cherished name ! 'Twill lire when tyrant's nre unknown. Emblazoned on the scroll of fame. And if perchance, if after time Man vindicates the rights of man, ftanelting him to deeds sublime, That ilame becomes a talisman. And who that treads with fettered feet The land such chieliain could not save. But frets his heart indignant heat For him, '■ Tee 11 rarest of the Brave." E'en strangers, as they linger there. Turn from even festive scene away. To drop the tribute ofa tear Upon thy grave, heroic Net I The hoary sire, who would not know t The story of thy tragic doom. Has found at length, from all his woe. Relief within the silent tomb. And few of all tbe famous band, Tim gathered at thy LEADER'S call, The desolating power withstand Of ilim whose sceptre governs all. But while high worth the Brave endears, Or pity prompt* the generous sigh, Tltno hast, above thy great compeers, A memory thit will never die! S. L. Philadelphia, June, 1840. •Ttiefrsveof this renowned warrior, who perished hy a Ldieisl murder, to coufirm the reign of the twice rejected |!<i:trai. i a said, to die disgrace of humanity, to be t.ill tin- puked by any memorial: "Yet for this want more noted, as of vorc TheEttiar's pageant shorn of Brutus's bust Did bin of Rome's best son remind her more." ‘Th* fstbrr of Marshal Ney died a lew years tintee. at a I’*!* idvsneed age, without any poa live knowWge ot the Isntkefhi. son, to whom he was tenderly attached. He |o» tie members of his household mourning, knew that I' -r terrible ereni had befallen him whom lie loved, but Ibthare inquiry into wh.t he could not endure to hear. THE HAPPIEST TIME. B* X. A. BROWNE. Wheaare we happiest T When the light of mo rn, Wtkaa the young roses from their crimson rest; Wksn rheerlal sounds upon the fiv ili winds borne, 'Till nun resumes his work with blither zest ; While the bright waters leap from rock to glen. Are we happiest then ? Alu. those roses ! they will fade away, And thunder tempests will deform the sky ; Aid lammerheats l id the spring buds decay. And the clear sparkling fountain may be dry, A«i nothing beautiful may adorn the scene. To tell what il hath been ! *r* we happiest t In the crowded ball, , " hen fortune smiles, and (latter ei s bend the knee ? Haw soon, how very soon such pleasures poll I . Hsl must falsehood's rainbow-colouring flee ! Its poison flow’rets leave the sting of care! Wc arc not happy there. Arc we hippiest when the evening hearth hnrtlea with its crown of living (lowers : hen poeth round the laugh of artless mirth, -And whan Affection from her bright urn slioweis tier richest balm on the dilatingheart T Bliss ! is it there thou art ? Qk.no ! not there. Tt would be happiness Almost like heaven's it might always be. lsosehrows without one shading of distress, Aad wanting nothing but eternity ; »«they are things r.r e , r tli, and pass away— They must—they mu.t decay! irosi I'oiccs must grow tremulous with yenrs ; ...oie smiling brows must wear a tinge of gloom ; »wie sparkling eyes be quenched in Utter tears, ,*A'd. at last, close darkly in the tomb : * ksppiness depends on them a'one. How quickly is it gone ! "Tea ate we happiest then 1 O, when resigned To whatsoe'er our cup of life mny brim ; we can know ourselves but weak and blind Creatures of earth ; and trust alone n Him ''kogitetli, in hi* mercy, j^y or pain ; On ! w** are happiest then. LOVE’S LIKE A PLOWEII. ?*'Wi like a flower that blossoms in May, A-v*** for an hour, then withers away; .PjUlow that hovers around her repose, **oud o'er the sunbeam—a thorn to the rose. *Tis pleasing. Though teasing, Appeasing ® . . Then freezing, r ?‘**ing alike to the grave and the gay; 'Tis trying, ’Mid sighing. And crying, i s Then dying. Jlike a blossom that withers awav. From England, JG From Mexico, Scotland, 6 West Indies, Ireland, 3 East Indies, Wales. I British Guiana, Canada, S Guatimala, United States, 3? Denmark, France, 4 Poland, Spain, 1 Germany, Of the Germans, 2 were from Hamburgh, 1 from Radon, l from Lit hoc, 2 from Bremen, ami 1 from fleinault. Mr. Robert Owen was one of ihe Scotchmen, and he was the only one on board, l fuhey, for whom fame had made any •treat omlay of trumpeting. Six clergymen (!!) served as our protection ngainst the icebergs I doubt whether the Atlantic bad, ever before, such n brottdwtikc of divinity drawn across it Probably, the true faith was in some one of their keepings! I wish to ask a personal favor of all the friends of the Minor who are in the offices of American Custom Houses, viz. : that they would retaliate upon Englishmen in tho most vexatious manner possible, tbe sill}’ and useless imp"diuients thrown in rite way of passengers landing at Liverpool. We dropped anchor with a Custom House steamer alongside, and our baggage lay on deck two hours, (time enough to be examined 'twice over) before it was 5 ransl'erred to the government vessel. We •ntd our baggage were then taken ashore, and 1 mded at a Custom House. But not to be ex amined there ! O.t, no ! It must be put into carts, and carried a mile and a half to another Custom House, and there it tvould be deliver ed lo us, if we were there to see it examined ! We landed at ten o’clock in the morning, and with my utmost exertions, I did not get my baggage tid three. The cost lo me, of pnr'er- nae, fees, etc., was three dollars and a half, be sides the theft of two or three small articlos be- longmg to my child. I was too ill to laugh, and I therefore passed the matter over to resent ments. I trust my particular share will be re membered in the coming wars of Oregon. During t*>e fmr or live hours that I was playing ibe hanger-on to n vulgar and saucy custom house officer at Liverpool, one or two contrasts crept in at my dull eyes—contrasts between what I bad left, and what was before me. The most striking was tier utter want of hope in the countenances of the working class es—the look of dogged submission and animal endurance of their condition of life. They act hke horses and cows. A showy equipage goes by, and they have not the curiosity to look up. Their gait is that of tired donkeys, saving as much trouble at leg lifting as possible. Their mouths and eyes are wholly sensual. Ex pressing no capability of a want above food. Their dn ss is without a thought of mure than warmth a"d covered with dirt. Tln ir voices are a half-note ahove a grunt. Indeed, com paring their condition with the horse, I would prefer being an English liorseto being an Eng lish working-man. And you —ill easily see the very strong contrast there is, between this pic- ture, and tnal of the ambitious and lively work ing men of our country. Another contrast strikes, probably, nil Americans on first landing—that of female dress. The entire absence ofthcornamental— of any thing indeed, except decent covering— in all classes below the wealthy, is particular ly English and particularly un-American. I do not believe you would find ten female ser vants in New York without (pardon my nam ing it) a ‘'bustle.” Yet I saw as many as two hundred women in the streets of Liverpool, and not one with a bustle ! I saw some ladies get out of carriages who wore them, so that it is not because it is not the fashion, but simply because the pride (of those whose backs form but one line) does not outweigh the price of the bran. They wore thick shoes, such as scarce ly a man would wear with ils, no gloves of course, and their whole appearance was that of females in whose minds never entered the thought of ornament on week days. This tri fling exponent of the condition of women in England, has a largo field of speculation within and around it, and the result of philo sophizing on it would bo vastly in favor of our side of the water. As this letter is written on my first day of sitting up, and directly against the doctor’s or ders, you will give my invalid brain the credit of coming cheerfully into harness. Y our’s fuithlully N. P. Willis. lovely rural beauty of England, the first impres sion which lasts one, like an encbmtel memo ry through life. Notwithstanding tbe great speed.<he cars ran so evenly on their adrmra- ble rails, that there was no jar to prevent one’s sleeping or being comfortable, and I awoke from a very pleasant dream to find my self in London. As I was dressing to dine out on the follow ing day, I stopped tying my cravat to send for a physician, and here, if you please, we will make a jump over twelve days, and come to a blight morning when I was let out for a walk in. Regent-street. It is extraordinary how little the English change ! Regent-street, after four or five years, is exuctly what Regent-strest, was. The men have tbe same tight cravats, coats too small, overbrushed whiskers, and look of being ex pressively wvshed. The carriages and horses are exactly the same. The cheap shops have the same placard of “ selling off” in their broad windows. The blind beggars tell the same story, and are led by the same dogs ; but what is stranger than all this sameness, is that the ladies look the same ! Tbe fashions have perhaps changed—in ihe milliters’simps ! But the Englishing that is done to French bonnets after they are bought, or the English way in which they are worn, overpowers the norelty, and gives tbe fair occupants of the splendid car riages of London the very same look they had ten years ago. Still, they are some slight differences obser vable in the street, and among others, I ob serve that the economical private carriage call ed a ‘'Brougham,” is very common. These are low cabs, holding two or four persons, with a driver, and perhaps a footman in livery on the outside seat, and one horse seems to do the work as well as two. This fashion would ho well, introduced into New York—that is to say, if cur city is ever lo be well enough paved to make a drive anything but a dire necessi y.— The paving of Lottdbn is really most admira ble. Vast city as it is, the streets are as smooth as a floor all over it, and to ride is indeed a Iuxuiy. The break neck, bat jamming and dislocating jolts of Broadway must seem to English judgement an inexcusable stain on our public spint. And, appropos of paving— the wooden pavement stems to be entirely out of favor. Regent-street is laid in wooden blocks, and in wet weather (and it rains hero some part of every day,) it is so slippery that an omnibus which has been s'opprd in going up ihe street is with difficulty started again. The horses almost always come to their knees, though the ascent is very slight, and the foils ot cart and carriage-horses are occurring contin ually. Nothing seems to “do’’1ike the McAd- tim pavement, and wherever you find it in London, you find it in as perfect order as the floor ot a bowling-alley. I see that all heavy vehicles (by the way) are compelled to have very broad wheels, and they rather improve the road than spoil it. A law to the same eflect should be passed in New York, if it ever has a pavement worlh preserving. Observing Lady BlessingtonV flmUWa equipage standing at the door of tbe Cosmora- ma, I went in and saw her Ladyship for a mo ment. She said she was suffering from recent illness, hut I thought her looking f tr better than when I was last in England. Her two beau tiful nieces were with her, and Lord Let me make a whole letter about the evening of which I thus “did” jhe Doctor. I do not often pulp very hard at tbe price of a till"" I want, but jhe charge of eight dol lars (a guinea and a half) for n seat to see one opera—in the habit as 1 am editorially of pav ing nntliing for the samp commodity—certain- ly mad* me say “eliem 1” The seat 1 gu| for this little price wits in rite middle of the first bench behind (he orchestra, in the pit—that is to say one of- tbe “stalls” or elbow-seats into which the first four or five benches of the pit are divided. “The pit” so called, which is separated by a bur from these privileged seats, is so uncomfortable find crowded, that, in my weak condition, I could not venture it, especi ally with iho risk of standing all the evening. oned her charm. The bill I .held in my hand declared t^at with five nights ot this engage ment she was to t ike final leave ol the slave —and I was sorry she bad waited till the world thought it was time! Queen Y'ictoriu leti tbe opera before the curtain drew up for Iter to ap- f,eur ’ • And now having made rather a long letter, I’ll go out for mv siioit walk. Adieu for to day. Your’s fititfifully, N. P: Willis. Country Newspateks.—Le! no firmer and no other man—(says the Family Visitor,) re- inquish the newspaper published in his own neighborhood, for the sake of taking some oth er larger cheaper, or more popular paper, pub* So, away went iho price of— many a good j fished abroad. The new-puper published in thing you can lit nk of ! If 5 had been charg ed for the moisture of the English climate be cause my hair curls tighter here than in Amer ica, I should not have lelt more like scratching my head after the payment. No one is admitted to the London opera ex cept in fuil drcs3, but I took my cloak on mv arm, fearful of the draught of cold air that comes over the warm pit when tho curtain k is lifted. The door-keeper stopped me. ‘*You cannot wear your cloak in, sir !” said lie.— “But I am a sick man, and require it.” “A- gainst the rule, sir 1” “It is very hard that one who has a stall to himself and no one to incom- mude, should not be allowed to keep himself from taking cold V’ “Can’t be done, sir !*’— So saying he took off my cloak; apd charged me a shilling for taking care of it! Some nice things about England ! I found myself seated between a !udy in full dress and a very fine, aristocratic looking old man, whose seat was el. gnntly cushioned, and who evidently hud it by the season. He turn ed out be a useful neighbor, for overhearing me asking a questim) of the musician before me which showed that it was my first appearance jt the opera, lie remarked to me that I was apparently a stranger, and seemed to tnko great pleasure in pointing out lo me the nota bilities of ibe siage.attd audience. I am glad to mention it as an exception to the usual Eng lish reserve. The opera was the “Roberto D-;vereux” of Donizetij, and Uwprima donna (who played “Queen Euz ibeth”) was a novelty in London, Madame Rossi Cacciu. It was her second ap pearance. J\Iy first impression of Iter was ve ry unfavorable. Site came forward in a solo in which she drew her voice so sharply fine that it pricked the ear uncomfortably and, in the red hair and other unbecomingables of Queen Elizabeth, her looks, (which are half the music,) were also against her. As the plot deepened, however, she showed a passionate ness of acting, which helped both voice and beauty, and 1 began to discover that she had a mouth like a crack in a rose leaf, big eyes full of daiktiess, and a voice lliut was mellow when she forgot the audience. She was im mensely applauded ; but I assure you I thought her very inferior to Pico, buth as an actress and Ok j, . ll %| ,e s . tike a bark that is borne on the eea, Jut] ‘"at' the tempest and strives to be tree; IfvitrluVth® hark that is tossM up and down, ‘ d 'pun the sand, leaves the lover 10 droni 'Tis pleasing. Though teasing. Appeasing, ,T hen fizzing. J ‘like to the lair and the bravo, Tis iryiag. Mid sighiug, ■And crying, • Then •tying. •■*n a hark tt,at is tossed on the wave. NUMBED TWO. Departure from Liverpool—Prire of the trains—Effects of travelling upwards of forty mites an hour—rural beamy of England—Arrival in London—Regent-street—Men— Women—Carriages— Shops—Beggars—Sameness— Fashions—"Brougham”—Cabs—The pavement of the streets—Difference between London mid New York in this particular—Wooden pavements in wet weather— Omnibusses—Lady Blessington’s equippace—The chief of the Parisian Police—Hia personnl appearance and cu rious career—An American Belle—Her ndmirera—Drol, leriet—The most celebrated notability of the season- ttc.etc. London, July, 1. My DEAr. Morris—Having some dtriny tn giving my lutle Imogen her fi-st English din- i ncr, we suved our passage by half a minute, and were off from Liverpool at 4 precisely.— Tito distance to London is, I believe, 220 miles, and we did it in five hours—an accel eration of speed which is lately it.troiluced tip- on English railway*. There are slower trains on the same route, and the price, by these, is less. There are also three or fo"r different kinds of cars to each train and at different pri ces. I clmnced to light upon the first class, and paid 5t£ for two places—my nurse and child counting as one. I understand, since, that many gentlemen and ladies of the most respectable rank take the second class cars— (as few Americans would, 1 am sorry to say, though there would be two degrees still below them.) The travelling at forty odd miles the hour gives one’s eyes hardly time to know a tree from a cow, but here and there I got a distant view in crossing q vallev, and recognize tho and the celebrated Vidocq (for this was what they had come to sec.) was showing them the disguises he hud worn in his wonderful detec tion of criminals, the weapons be had taken from them, and the curiosities ot his career— himself the greatest. I looked at the prince of Policemen with no little interest of course, after reading his singular memoirs. He is a flit man, very like the outline of Louis Pliillippc’s figure, and his head, enormously developed in the per ceptive organs, goes up so small to the top, us to resemble tin pear with which the King of the French is commonly curicatured. Vidocq** bow to me when 1 came in was the model of elegant and respectful suavity, but I could not repress a feeling of repugnance to him, never theless. I made a couple of calls before I went home. The chief topic of conversation at both houses was the charms and eccentricities of an Ame rican belle who has lately married into a noble family. Site seems to have enchanted the ex- clusivenes by treating them with the most tin- deferential freedom. A few evenings, ago she chanced to be surrounded bv a half dozen high bred admirers, and conversation goingrath- cr heavily, she proposed a cock-fight. Divid ing the party in two sides, she tied the legs of the young men together, and set them to a game of fisticuffs—ending in a very fair repre sentation of an action between beligerent roos ters ! One of her expressions was narrated with great glee. She chanced to huvu occasion to sneeze when sitting at dinner between two venerable noblemen. “La!” she exclaimed, “I hope I didn’t splash either of you !” I have mentioned only the drolleries of what I heard. Several instances of her readiness a#d wit were given, and as those who mentioned them were oftke classshe is shining in, their admiring tone gave a fair reflection of how she is look ed upon—as the most celebrated belle and no tability of high life for the present season. Yours faithfully, N. P. Willis. NUMBER THREE. Ta-liont in the Sjlpbidn.—Price of an opera ticket.—Nice things about Enclnnd.—A useful neighbor.—An excep tion to a general rule.— Donizetti's .opera of Roberto Devereux—First impressions of ltossi Caccin.—Mori- ani.—The Q.ueen at the opera.—Prince Albert.—King ot Belgium.— Ladies of tiie Bedchamber.—Maids of Honor.—The Royal atmosphere.—The Vennese dancers. —The Queen's admiration of the little magicians.— What it coats beauty to slay in the world.—What I misl ed in Taglioni-—tier last" appearance upon the stage. &c., Ac. London, Juiy 3. My Dear Morris : I was taking my slow paced walk yesterday afternoon, on the sunny side of RcgL'iit street, thinking of little except the sort) iron-wires not yet physicked out of my brain, when, in a shop-window I chanced lo sny a placard of the opera. In largo letters I read “•Tagi.ioni in the Sylfhide !” 'If you remember my description, in “Pencillings by the way,” of the very first performance of this ballet, ('which I had the good fortune to witness ten ortwelve years ago on my first arrival in Paris,) and my enthusiastic description of Tag lioni, you will easily fancy how my blood was stirred with the chance of re-seeing ihe en chanting picture—the same ballet with the same matchless woman as the enchantress. It was five o’clock, P. M.—within an hour of my prescribed bed-time—and the opera commen ces at eight and lasts till twelve—but / went. a singer. iioni.m, me laments tenor, lias the person of a ship’s boatswain and a voice as exquisite ly sc ft as an Eoliun harp, and (with one’s eyes shut) be is a singer who gives one delicious en joyment—but 1 will not bother you with more about the opera. As the curtnin fell after the first act the men in the stalls all rose to straighten themselves and take a stare over the bouse; and for the first time it occurred to nte to enquire if the Queen Was present. “You are looking straight at her Majesty,” said my neighbor; “site is taking to one of the ladies of her bedcham ber, and Prince Albert is in the back of the box, talking lo tbe King of Belgium.” Tho box I was looking into was directly at the end of the stage lights, and of course very near me. I had seen the Queen con.e in without recognizing her though 1 Intd studied her face at Court when I was presented to William IV. some years ago, and of course see portraits of her every day. Stic looked fur younger and prettier than any picture 1 know of her, and her manner to her Maids of Honor, and their evident ease, made it look precisely like a most agreeable party. There was no mark to dis tinguish the box site occupied, and the fact is that I bad insensibly looked more at the Queen than at any body else, thinking Iter a remark able pretty girl and feeling more curiosity to know who she was than who were in the other boxes ! I trust the Royal atmosphere forgave my profane admiration ! At the close of the second act, the Vennese Dancers tripped upon the stage. These, as you know, are twenty or thirty children, appa rently from five years o'd to ten, who diess and dance like full grown dancing-girls, and produce astonishing effects by their well-drilled combinations. They ore curiosities, if it wore only for the robust developemcnt of their little bodies. Seen through a magnifying glass, their short petticoats, etc., would hardly look decent i but as children the plumptitudes which they expose by every movement are humorously beautiful. They must have been drilled with wonderful patience to make such sudden and exact transitions. At one instant they pile Up into a bower—the next they are revolving in a many spoked wlael—the next they are braiding themselves in a complete waltz. They seem to swallow each other and rc appear, multiply and diminish, swim and flv, with a onc-m ndedness, a grace, and case of countenance and motion that is wholly incom prehensible. And withal, their little faces nre as round and rosy as Cupid s in a picture, and they look so happy that it is contagious. I quite made my well bred neighbors stare with my un-Lmidon-y laughter. Perhaps 1 should have been excused, however, if they had looked nt tho Queen, for Her Majesty quite leaned out of her box, kept time with tho music with her head and bouque', and watched the little magicians with a continued smile throughout. The curtnin drew up at lust, for the “Syl- phide,” and Tag'ioni glided to the chair of her sleeping lover. I looked at her lady-like face with the same feeling of admiration for its mod est unconsciousness as before, but- 1 —alas ’ for what it c°sts beauty to stay in this wicked world ! ^ would not record, if I were writing for a paper that would ever reach her eye, how much I missed from her shoulders, how much front herlimhs, how much—but I will not dwell upon her losses. She was herself in all her swift motions—in all her more powe ful efforts. It was in the slow poisings, in the pirouettes, in those parts of the dance which require more than mere graceful baunds over the stage, that site showed where the lessened muscle had less- otie's own County is always, tis a general rule, more valuable than any other—if it be for noth ing but the advertisements ; uyo, the somewhat abused and much neglected advertisements, are a thermometer of the business of a place, and often the key which opens the door to ex- j cellaut bargains. It is of no little consequence 1 for the farmer to know what is going on in his 1 market-town—the competition in selling goods i and the competition in buying produce—the j changes in business operations—the settlement j of estates—the sale of farms, stock, See. See.-— | We venture to say, there is no man who may j not every year much more than save the price ! of subscription to his neighboring newspaper, | from its advertising columns alone; and on lies j ground exhort all to patronise their own news papers. This should be done al.-o for weigh tier reasons, one of which we will name; the mammoth weekly stteeLs of the citi -s being fur nished at a price with which no country printer can compete, (for one reason, because made up generally from the matter once used and paid for in the daily paper-',) are encroaching large ly upun the country newspapers, thus discoura ging improvement and enterprise, and gradual ly bringing the whole country under the influ ence, and in some sense the control of the leading cliquts in the cities Thus a tone is given io the morals, llie politics, and the hab its of the country—and we hesitate not to say, that the preppntlerence of this influence is bad. Tue- people of the country get full enough of this influence through their own papers; und if they would not see the complete supremacy of the cities over the moral and political desti ny of the country, let them support the country newspapers. Take the city papers if you can afford it, and a3 many of them as you please: but first see to it that you have your own home paper as a regular visitor to your fireside.— Support them first and liberally, und they will hardly fail to support your interest. [Barnstable Patriot. THE END OF FOUR GREAT MURDERERS.. Happening to cast mv eyes upon a prints I page of miniature portraits, I perceived that tue four personages who occupied therour most conspicuous places, were Alexander, Hanni bal, Catsar, and Bonaparte. I had seen the same unnumbered limes before, but never did the same sedations arise in my bosom, as my mild glanced over their several histories. Alexander, after having climbed the dizzy heights of liis ambition, and with his temples bound with chaplets dipped in the blood of countless millions, looked down upon a con- qut-red w'rld, and wept that there was not an- otner world tor him to conquer, set a city on li re, and died in a scene of debauch. Hannibal, after having to the astonishment and consternation of Rome, passed the Alps, and having put to flight the Armies of the mis tress of the world, and stripped “three bushels” of golden rings from the fingers of her si uigh- tered knights, and made her very foundations quake, fled from his country, being hated by those who once exultingly united ms name to that of their God, and called him Hanni Baal, and died at last by poison administered with liis own hands, unUnieuted und unwept, in a foreign land. Ccesar, after having conquered eight hun dred cities, anti dyed Ins garments in the blood of one million of hi.s toes, after having pursued to death the only rival be hud on earth, was miserably assassinated by those he considered his nearest friends, and in that very place, the attainment of which had been bis greatest am bition. Bonaparte, whose mandates kings and popes obeyed, after having filled the earth with tiie terror of his name—after having del uged Europe with tears and blond, and clothed the world in sackcloth, clothed his days in ion«- ly banishment, almost literally exiled from tho world, yet where he could sometimes see hi* country’s banner waving o’er the deep, but which did not or could not bring him aid. Titus these four men, who from the peculiar situation of their portraits, seemed to stand the representatives of all those whom the world calls great—these four, who, each in turn, made tho earth tremble to its very centre, by t eir simple tread, severally died—one by intoxica tion, or, as some suppose, by poison mingled i;i his wine—one a suicide—one murdered by his friends—and one in a lonely exile 1" “How are the mighty fallen !” CONSISTENCY. We are great admirers of consistency in pub lic men. The unity of a life begun, continued, and ended in ihe resolute assertion of a great and true principle, is a noble morul spectacle. We like to know where to find a man, and what to expect of him. We love to feel assur ed that wliat he means he will say, and what he says be will do, that his principles of action are stable and rooted in his convictions, and that liis pasi gives a reliable pledge of liis fu ture. But this lias nothing to do with the per tinacious dulness that never changes an opinion. If frequent and sudden changes of opinion are a presumptive Indication of intellectual infirmi ty, an obstinate resistance to the adoption of new opinions, as new facts came to light, is downright stupidity ; and the attempt to hide or gloss over one’s mental changes is a despi cable moral paltroony. We know not a mean er cewurdice than that which makes a man ashamed of seeming wiser at fifty than he was at forty. The true consistency fur A statesman sthe consistency, not of this year’s words, with Inst year’s words, but of this year’s acts with litis year’s convictions. In fact, an honest man need never trouble himself about consistency at all. Plis honesty will insure Iris consis tency, so far as consistency is a fit virtue for fallible beings. Let any man keep a clear, open mind, and habits of frank speech—-seek ing the truth, and speaking the truth, from day to day, and from year to year—and though lie live to the age of Methuselah, without once tliinking about his consistency, his life wilt look consistent enough at last.—London League. The way to be happy.—Happiness is al ways to be found if we only condescend to p ck it up seed by seed. As none of its ingre dients should he thought too minute to be gath ered and added to niicstore, so none should be deemed too insignificant for distribution to oth ers. Occasions for conferring great benefits do not often occur, and when they do it may not be in our power to bestow them ; but the little services and gratifications which every current day places within the reach of the humblest member of society will constitute, if vve oil throw our share in the common stock, no in considerable aggregate of human enjoy meals and mutual good will. WOMAN. A writer in Blackwood’s Magazine writes in the following strain: Great, indeed, is the task assigned to wo men; who can elevate its dignity? Not to make laws, not to lend armies, not to govern empires; but to form those by whom laws are made, armies led and empires governed ; to guard against the slightest taint of bod'ly infir mity the frail and yet spotless Creature whose moral, no less than physical being must he de rived from her; to inspire those principles, to inculcate those doctrir.es—to animate those sen timents which generations \et unborn and na tions yet uncivilized si a 1 leant to bless; to soften fitmncas into mercy and c.t is’cn hon or into refinement; to exalt generosity into virtue; by a soothing care to allay the an guish of the body nml the far worse anguish of the mind; by lief tenderness to duarm passion; by lwr purity to triumph over sense; to cheer the scholar sink'ttg under his toil; to console the statesman for the ingratitude of a mistaken people; to be tho compensation for the hopes that are blighted, for friends that are perfidious, for happiness that passed away. Such is I er vocation—the couch of the tortured sufferer—the prison of the de serted friend—the cross of the rijecied savior —these are theatres on which her grea’est tri umphs have been achieved. Such is her des tiny—to visit the forsaken, to attend to the neglected, when monarchy abandon, when coun sellors betray, when justice pi'Vsccutes, when brethren and discip.’es flee, to remain unshaken and unchanged ; and to exhibit i:i thi' lower wcrIJ a typo of that love, pu.'e> constant ai d inefftble, which in another world we are taught to believe the test of virtue. Silence is one great art ol conversation.-— He is not a fool who knows whan to hold his tongue; and a person may gam sens", elo quence and wit, who merely says nothing to lessen tho opinion which othe rs have ot these qualities io themselves. Hazlitt. A Greek maid, bo’/ig asked what fortune she should bring her husband, answered, “ I will bring him what is mo'e valuable than any trea sure—a heart unspotted and virtue without a stain, which is all that descended t,o me from my parents.” t!o\y beautifully expre«3(:y. Be not so bigoted to any custom as to wor ship it at the expense ot truths ah t a that goes on in conlinuiiy ; and all customs are not alike beneficial to us. When the king of • Poland had received Livonia-from the Czar Joint Brazilowitz, lie wished to abolish the cus tom of whipping ihe peasants ! -r their faults; but they, insensible of the favor, threw them selves at his feet, and begged that he would a!-, ter nothing in their ancient customs. LAY OF THE LEVELLER. BT BARKY CORNWALL. •‘The king he reigns on a throne of gold Fenced round by his right divine ; The baron he sits in his castle old, Drinking nis ripe ted wine : But below, below, in his ragged coat, The beggar he tuneLh a hungry no:e And the spinner is bound to his weary thread* And the debtor lies down with an aching head. So the world goes, So tiie stream flows ; Yet there's a fellow, who nobody knows. Who maketh all free, By land and sea, Who inaketh the rich like the poor to flee* The lady lies down hi her warm white lawn. And dreams cf her pz inted pride ; The milk maid pings io the wiid-eyed dawn Sad songs on the cold hill's side ; And the bishop smiles, as on high he sits, On the scholar who writes and stares by fit5, And the girl who her nightly needle plies. Looks out for the source of life and dies. So the woild goes, So the stream flows ; Yet there's a fellow whom nobody knows, Who maketli ail free, By land and sea, And force th the rich and the poor to flee. SLAVERY 1N T NEW JERSEY. The Supreme Court of New Jersey have in the case of the slave William, given a unan-* imous decision, with the exception of Ihe Chief Justice, in favor of sustaining the law of slave ry as it existed prior to the adoption of the new Constitution. Judge Nevios gave u written opinion to the eflect as follows : 1st. Tnat the relation of master and slave existed by Jttw at the adoption of the Constitu tion in IS44. 2d. That that Constitution has not destroyed that relation or abolished slavery, 3.1. That the coloured man, William, should be remanded to the custody of the defendant. Tne opinion of the Judge went to show that from the earl'est times the institution of slave ry was recognised in New Jersey. As early us 179S, tho Legislature declared by statute, that every negro then a slave should remain a slave, till regularly manumitted according to the terms prescribed oy law, and this court has frem lime to time protected the claim of tbe master to the slave. In 1S20 tho Legislature adopted a plan for the gradual abolition of slavery, in.'which the relation of master end slave was again recog nised, and under v 1.1 It slavery hag nearly dis appeared, the number being reduced, according to the late census, to 674, who have, according to the net, u legal claim on their masters for meintninance in case of inability to support themselves, unless tho law is rendered nuguto. ry by the new Constitution. Likeness of Gen. Jackson.—Mr. Sully, the well known and justly distinguished artist of Philadelphia, has just finished a truly admira ble full length and life-size portrait of Gen. Jackson. It is from cu original by Mr. S. and tbe dress is tbe U. S uniform, ovgr which is thrown in easy and graceful style, a milit«y cloak. The effort is of the highest order of art, and may well be regarded as one of Solly’s hast. The likeness, the coloring, the general effect, t:fe all adima.hje;^Y; ^