The Georgia mirror. (Florence, Ga.) 1838-1839, October 27, 1838, Image 2
might never fade before the touch of decay, that \
no duck worm might prey on the bud of happiness
which wa* nntolding its leaves in their smiling
path. ,
But my eyes unconsciously sought Nina. She
stood near the fair-bride, and I could not conceive
that even in the flush of health she could have
appeared more touchingly lovely, 'i he lustre ot
her expressive eye was not anil as I
looked on her I could not believe the shadow of
the torn!) was then resting ou aught so beautiful.
She met my gaze—she read my thoughts, and a
bright sweet smile wreathed her lip momentarily ;
it spoke of the hope of bliss beyond.the grave.
In the evening, when I repaired to her apart
ment, she boiethe traces of weeping, and as she
extended her hand towards me, the large tears fell
glittering on her sable dress.
“You will not be surprised,” said she, “that the
scene of happiness 1 have so recently beheld, has
recalled to me my own blighted fortunes; and
though I do not doubt the justice of that decree,
which has thus darkened my horizon, I sometimes
so far yielded to my infirmity as to wish it had
been otherwise. Your unwearying kindness and
affection, my dear , bearing so meekly my
petulence and ill-lmniors, have endeared you to
me beyond the power of words to express.”
“Dear Nina,” interrupted I, pressing my lips
to her pale, silken cheek, “who could accuse you
of ill liuuion 1 One. so «eutie, so uncomplain
ing-”
She smiled gratefully, and continue !
“If the relation of those calamities which have
thus depressed me, and thrown their shadows
athwart rav path, will not tire you, you shall hear
it; and when the star of prosperity shines glori
ously on you, when the bright wing*of the world s
favor are folded around you, remember the voice
my history breathes. ‘Lean not on earth;’trust
it not; be not lured by its fair, but false promises ;
for its golden dreams must vanish, and what are
the sensations of that bosom, when all it has
loved, all it has rejoiced in. is melting in its grasp,
and a hereafter is disclosed, shrouded in gloom,
deep and impenetrable ?”
As Nina concluded, the glow of enthusiasm
bathed with its rich hues her pale cheek, —she
looked not like the bride of death, —but it passed;
for it was but the rush of thought which had stir
red the waters of memory.
A gorgeous sky, which Nina said was “not un
like tb» purple heaven of her own Italy,” looked
'down upon us, and seemed to smile in mockery ot
the ta,c ot gner to wmcti T r
whose bitterness I had not dreamed.
“My family name," said Nina, “is Genovesi,
and my earliest recollections are blended with
my mother —my beautiful mother! My father
died while I vn yet a feeble, wailing infant, leav
ing my mother the possessor of a princely estate.
Surrounded by ail the blandishments ol wealth,
youth ami beauty, it is not to be auppoced *ne was
without many lovers, who though they might not
have been indifferent to the first mentioned attrac
tion, were nevertheless as likely to have been cap
tivated by her sunny loveliness; tor I never re
member to have looked on a lac* on which the
eoul of beauty was more indelibly stamped. "I el
she nobly rejected all these otters, and devoted
herself to the care of me—her only child. She
was a zealous Catholic, and in the tenets of
our national faith f was bveJ. She piqued her
self on the long line of almost noble ancestry
which we could boast, and failed not to inspire me
with that pride in which *he gloried. I was taught
to believe myself all-powerful in the majesty ol
my titled kindred, in the accumulated wealth
which I was to inhert, and in numberless other
advantages es which l was not slow to imagine
myself possessed. Injwhort, lgrcw up a haughty,
self willed, obstinate, overbearing child, and it my
mother was aware of my faults, she wa* too blind
ly devoted to me to correct them. I loved my
mother with intensity, and l could not believe
another than herself had ever been gifted with
such superlative beauty. I used to stand for hours
gazing on her portrait which hung in her dres
sing-room, and which represented her hi the mid
day blaze of her loveliness, ’till in the enthusiasm
of my admiration, l would exclaim to myself,
“Shall I ever be such a woman as my mother?”
To hearmyself, therefore, often called strikingly
like her, to bo said to resemble, her, as she was
in her girlhood, was a fl ittering observation ; the
pernicious effects of which were soon visible in the
air of self-complacency and vanity, which assumed
the place of that innocence and purity and fresh
ness of feeling so inseparable from childhood.
“At the age of ten years I had the inexpressi
ble misfortune to lose my mother ; she was ill
but for a short period ; and when l was taken to
see her for the last time, I could not look towards
her without trembling; for l had never beheld death
before. She called me to her bedside, and with
a sad smile, placed in iny hand a rich crucifix,
saying to me—
“ ‘Keep this, my child—remember your moth
er—be faithful to your religion—that holy reli
gion, in which l die—the blessed Catholic faith.’
“1 bowiri niv youthful head upon the jewelled
gift as I responded to tny mother’s dyintr charge.
I was then suffered to kiss her pale cheek, and
while she laid her hand on my head and blessed
me long and fervently, the first tears 1 ever re
member to have shed stole from my eyes.
“After this heavy bereavement, which I felt
long and sensibly, I was sent to a convem for the
completion of my education. 1 spent many years
in the nursery of my faith, and as I hearkened t*
the beautiful ritual, when it rose with rich melo
dy, filling the fretted dome of the chapel where I
was a regular attendant--as I viewed the gorgeous
ceremonies which appeal so strongly to the «»n
--sea—as the full clear voices of the sisters, swel
ling so musically, and blending so exquisitely with
the deep-rolling organ,floated majestically through
the magnificent building—as the glowing hues of
the noble paintings, which seemed almost endow
ed with life, breath and being, met tny eye in
■whatever direction I turned—as the golden cen
ser swung to and fro, emitted the rich and over
powering fumes of incense, I buried iny face in
iny bands, and in adoring humility, knelt rever
ently to the spirit of that religion in which l had
been reared, in which 1 then dwelt, and which I
noon learned to love with a fanaticism of whose
oxtent 1 was not then sensible.
“I was the petted favorite of the whole sister
hood—mv faults were overlooked—iny offences
palliated—iny yirfues, and they were few enough,
applauded and magnified—that greatest ornament
of the Christian ca*racter, ‘a meek and quiet spirit,’
being scarcely assumed by me.
“Tin# time was now approaching when T must
exchange the manners Os the wayward and spoiled
s’lild. for the bland and courteous address of the
„oung -i Jy. I wanted but two years of seventeen.and
tl (t'u the assigned for my leaving the con
'flnt an i goijjig to reside with my mother’s brother
too I»»d been yppointod my guardian. ahJ wia os e
home was in Venice. During this interval, 1 1
threw aside my childish ways, applied myself with
intense vigor to my studies, devoted a portion ot
mv time to the acquirement of accomplishments,
and all this, with so much success, that when my
uncle arrived to take me home with him, he ex
pressed himself delighted with my attainments.
“It was a sad morning to me when I bade fare
well to the gloomy old convent, and prepared to
accompany my uncle to a place of which
nothing. Weeping, I tore mysell from crn *
brac.es of the sisters who crowded
praying the holy Virgin to emy un
-1 threw niyseli in an agony of >e. ,r 9Desiue my uu
cle, in the heavy lumbers coach, and as the
dark mass of building * whose walls 1 tad spent
so manv years, gre- gradually more and m m the
distance, as 1 at H framed my eyes «. vain to
catch a parting ° the venerate pile I
leaned back * my-eat and yielded, un.estra.ned
lv to mv stress. My uncle did not seem flat
tered at .'hi* exhibition of feeling oa my part.
as the emotions of youth are almost as
soon AiUed as excited, 1 exerted my«elf, and no:
unsafe C9*fully, to repress the grief which hac
cpished for the tune my natural exuberance o
“At the close of the third day 1 found myseli
in the princelv palazzo of mv uncle, where a suite
of apartments was appropriated ine, and where I
found inyself encompassed with every gorgeous
luxury which my inordinate love of pomp and
display could desire. T needed no solicitation to
plunge in the vortex of pleasure, and soon resigned
myself delightedly to the brilliant and intoxica
ting homage my station and attractions comman
ded. With an exultant step and beaming brow,
I might be seen in the halls of festal mirth, the
gladsome laugh seeming to spring from a light
heart, and wooing ‘joy’s echo’ from every bosom.
Yet there were moments when 1 felt happiness
dwelt not in the glittering throngs of the great,
that the flowers scattered so richly o’er life’s high
ways, refused to yield freshness, fragrance or
beautv, when transplanted to the crowded walks
of fashion. Still L sought this happiness in like
scenes—still it eluded my grasp; hut the gem
wealth anil power refused to yield, flashed upon
me from anothersource. f clasped it w,th the ferven
cy and enthusiasm of my temperament, believed
it unfading, enshrined it-in the foldings of my heart,
w here its lustre was not quenched till base perfidy
stoic it thence, whispering, ‘how false is earth!’
“My uncle was childless, and after he was be
„V 1... -.u. Ua oJa(il».l jaa hiq son a Jinnnj?
nephew of hers, Antonio Banditti. This young
man commonly resided with my uncle, but at the
time of m v arrival at Venice it happened he was
absent.'
“After 1 had been many weeks established at my
uncle's house, 1 casually heard Antonio’s return
was expected the next day. That night, a rich,
melting voice was waited through my window—a
gondola paused in its watery path, and the dark,
Italian eyes of a grateful kniphi errant were raised
towards mv apartment. The serenader was
Antonio Bandini!
To be Continued.
THE TURK AND THE ENGLISHMAN.
A Mr. Urquart, who has travelled extensively
and resided for many years in Eastern countries
has lately published a book of adventures and ob
servations. in which we find the subjoined curi
ous antithetical portraiture of Turks and En
glishmen.
“Europeans commemorate the laying of the
foundation stone. The Turks celebrate the cov
ering in of the roof. Among the Turks a beard is
a mark of indignity with us-of negligence. Sha
ving the head is, with them, a custom ; with us,
a punishment. Wo take oll'our gloves before our
sovereign they cover their hands with their sleeves.
Wc enteran apartment with our head uncovered;
they enter an apartmcht with the feet uncovered.
With them the men have their necks and their
arms naked ; with us women have their arm* 1 ant 1 ,
necks naked. With us the women parade in gay
colors, and tint men in sombre ; with them, in
both cases, it is the reverse. With us the men o
gle the women : in Turkey the women ogle the
men. With us the lady looks shy and bashful;
in Turkey it is the gentleman. In Europe ale ly
cannot visit a gentloirtnn; in Turkey a gentleman
cannot visit a lady ; in Europe he cam There
the ladies always wear trowsers, and the gentle
men sometimes wear petticoats. With us the red
cap is the symbol of license; with them it is the
hat- In our rooms the roof is white and the wall
is colored ; with them the wall is white and the
roof is colored. In Trukcy there are gradations
of social rank without privileges; in England there
are privileges without corresponding social dis
tinction. With ns social forms and etequette
supercede domestics ; with them the etiquette of
relationship supersedes that of society. With us
the schoolmaster appeals ‘o the authority of the
parent: with them the parent lias to appeal to the
superior authority and responsibility of the school
master. With us a student is punished by being
confined to chape’ ; with them a scholar is pun
ished by beinghxcluded from the mosque. Their
children Have the manners of men ; our men the
manners of children. Among us masters require
characters with their servants ; in Turkey ser
vants inquire into the character ot masters. We
consider dancing a polite recreation; they con
sider it a disgraceful avocation.
'•Tnrkey religion, restrains (he imposition of po
litical taxes! in E upland the Government imposes
taxes for religion. In England the religion of the
state contributions from sectarians; iu
Turkey the religion of the state protects tho prop
erty of^sectarians against Government taxes. An
Englishman will he astonished at what he calls
the absence of public credit in Turkey ; the Turk
will be amazed at our national debt. The first
will despise the Turks for having no organization
exchange ; the Turk will be astounded to perceive
in England laws to impede the circulation of com
merce. The Turk will wonder how Government
can be carried on with divided opinions : the En
glishman will not believe that withont opposition
independence can exist. In Turkey commotion
may exist without disaffection, iu England disaf
fection exists without commotion. A European
in Turkey, will considerthe administration ofjus
tice defective; a Turk, in Europe will consider
the principles of law unjust. The first would
esteem property, iu Turkey, insecure against vi
olence, the second would consider property in
England insecure against law. The first would
marvel how without lawyers law can be adminis
tered ; the second would marvel how with lawyers
justice can be obtained. The first would be star
tled at the want of a check upon the central gov
ernment ; the second would be amazed at the ab
sence of control over the local administration.
We cannot conceive immutability in the princi
ples of the state compatible with well being ; they
THE GEORGIA MIRROR.
cannot couceive that what is good and just is capa
ble of charge.
“The Englishman will esteem the Turk un
happy becausehe has no public amusements; the
Turk will reckon tho man miserable who hicks a
rausements at home. The Englishman will look
ou the Turk as destitute of taste, because he ha*
no pictures; the Turk will consider Nature.
Tly Turk will be horrified at prostitution aa<4
bastardy; the Englishman at polygamy. The
first will be disgusted at our haughty treatmeutof
our inferiors; the second will revolt at the pur
chase of slaves. They will reciprocally call each
other fanatic in religion—dissolute in morals—
uncleanly in habits—unhappy in the development
of their sympathies sod tastes—destitute severally
of political freedom —each will consider the other
unfit for good seciety. The European will term
the Turk pompous lad sullen, the Turk will call
the European flippant and vulgar. Tt muy. there
fore be imagined how interesting, friendly and
harmonious must be the intercourse between the
two.”
THE TREK OF DISSIPATION.
THE
sin of
DRUNKENNESS
expels reason, drowns
memory, diminishes strength,
distembers the body, defaces
beauty, corrupts the blood, inflames
the liver, weakens the brain, turns men
into wriking hospitals, causes internal,
externd, and incurable wounds, is a
witebto the senses, a devil to the soul
a thi'f to the pocket, the beggar’s
/companion, a wife’s woe,
and children’s sorrow—
makes man become a
beast and a self
murderer, who
drinks to oth
ers good
hea'th,
<Y robs
h i m
O F
HIS
own
H >
C 5 P> • -
K r
» M
c 5 ' ,
►? t*
o
DRUNKENNESS
A FORTUNATE MISTAKE.
The accidental circumstances which frequently
bring medical men into extensive practice, or that,
notorietv which nwv lead to it, is truely curious.
It is well known that a most eminent English prac
ticinner owed all his success to his having been
in a state of intoxication. Disappointed on his
fiist arrival in London, he sought comfort in a
neighboring tavern, whence the servant of his lod
ging went to fetch him one evening, after a heavy
potation, to see a certain Countess. The high
sounding title of this unexpected patient tended
not a little to increase his excitement. He fol
lowed the liveried footman as well as he could,
and was ushered in silence into a noble mansion,
where her ladyship's woman waited to conduct
him most ditfctlv to her inis-tress’ room; her ag
itation mostprobably preventing her from perceiv
ing the docivr’s state. He was led into a splendid
bed chamber, arid went through the routine prac
tice of pulse feeding, &c. and proceeded to the
table to write r prescription, which in all proba
bility would hive been mechanically correct; but
here his power? failed him. In vain he strove to
tracethe salutary characters, uafi! wearied in his
attempt, lie threw down the pen, and exclaiming
“Drunk byt’.—!”—rr.ade the best of his way ou
of the house. Two days after he was not a little
surprised by receiving a letter from the lady and,
check for 100?., and the promise of her family and
friends’ patronage, if he would observe the strict
est secrecy es the state he found her in. The
fact was, that the Countess had been indulging
in brandy and laudanum, which her Abigal had
procured for her, and was in the very condition
which the doctor had so frankly applied to him
self.
SATURDAY - NIGHT.
It is good when the week is ended, to look back
upon its business and its toils, and mark where we
have failed of our duties or come short of what we
should have done. The close of the week to each
one of us should be like the close of our lives.
Every thing should be adjusted, with the world
and with our God, as if we were about to leave
the one and appear before the other. The week
is indeed, one of the regular divisions of life, and
when it closes it should not be without its moral.
From the end of one week to the end of another,
the mind can easily streatch onward, to the close of
existence. It can sweep down the stream of time
to the distant period when it will be entirely be
yond human power to regulate human affairs.
Saturday is the time for moral reflection. When
for the mercies of the week we are thankful, and
when our past months, and years come up in
succession before us—we see the fvanity of our
voutliful days, and vexations of manhood, nnd
tremble atthe approaching winter of age. It is
then we should withdraw from the business and
cares of the world, and give a thought to our end,
and what we are to be hereafter..— Bacon.
A Df.au Kiss.—-A curious trial was recently
held at Middlesex Sessions, in England. Thom
as Saverlaud, the prosecutor, stated, that on the
day after Christinas he was in the tap room where
the defendant, Caroline Fcwton, and her sister,
who had come from Birmingham, wete present.
Tho latter jokingly observed that she had promis
ed her sweetheart that no man should kiss her
while absent. It being holiday time, Saverlaud
considered this a challenge, and caught hold of
her and kissed her. The young woman took it as
a joke, bather sister, the defendant, said she would
like as little of that kind of fun as he pleased. Sn
verland told lier, if she was angry, he would kiss
her also ; he then tried to do it, and they fell to the
ground'. On rising, the woman struck him; he
again tried to kies her, mid in the scuffle she bit
off his nose, which she spit out of her mouth.
The action wns brought to recovery damages for
the loss of the no*e. The defendant said he had
no business to kiss her; if she wanted kissing she
had a husband to kiss her, a better looking man
than ever th r prosecutor was. The jury without
hesitation acquitted her; and the chairman said,
that if any man attempted to kiss a woman against
her will, she had a right to bite off his nose if she
had a fancy for so doing.
We call the following from the pages of Mr.
Suciß’s pamphlet on Duelling.
“From the time at which Francis the I, of
France, gave the lie to the Emperor Charles the
V, aud offered toanaintain it by a duel, the prac
tice with this high sanction spread alarmingly,
especially among the nobles, and military men,
when *i»her the lie or other approbious language
was give* ; which barbarous fashion became the
cause of many wounds and murders, and of much
public and private mischief— so potent for evil , is
thc'bad exmaple of men in high places. The prac
tice obtained in England, also, to so great an ex-,
tent, that in single reign of George the 111, it
was estimated that there were three hundred ami
forty four persons engaged in duels, sixty-nine of
whom were killed and ninety six wounded. Ma
ny of those combats took place from alight, aod
of them from insufficient, reasons. And from a
petition sent to the British Partiment by Mr. Jo
seph Hamilton it appears, that such is the ten
derness of the sensibilities of British gentlemen
of honor, that Colonel Montgomery wa* shot ip a
duel a bout a dog ; Capt. Ramsay in one about a
servant;* Mr. Fetherston in one about a recruit ;
and Stern’s father in one abou* it goose. Gen.
Barry was cha'.enged by Capt. Smith for declin
ing a glass of wine with him at dinner, in a steam
boat, and another was compelled to fight about a
pinch of snuff'-, a pretty fair specimen (by the way)
of the qaitses which most commonly lead to duels ;
among such, in all countries, a theatre, a horse
race, a bet, a game of hazard, a lewd woman, or
some other nuisance to society, is Commonly at
the bottom of such affairs of honor.’
LONGEVITY OF OUR FOREFATHERS.
No less than thirteen of our fifty-six singners
of American Indeuendence have reached the age
of eighty years and upwards, viz:
Charles Carroll of Maryland, 93
William Ellery of Rhode Island, 93
John Adams of Massachusetts. 91
Samuel Adams, do 81
Robert Treat Paine, do 93
Benjamin Franklin, do 84
William Williams of Connecticut, 91
William Floyu of Long Islaud, 87
Thomas M’Kean ot' Pennsylvania, 83
Thomas Jefferson of Virginia, 83
George Wythe, do 89
Mathew Thornton, of Ireland, 89
Francis'Lewis of South Wales, 90
Being an average of 8G and 2 months each,
and the aggregate excess of the “time honored
thirteen” over four-score is just 80 years. No
deliberate assembly of equal magnitude was ever
more remarkable for the virtue, temperance, and
fansevity of its members, than the one which de
clared that the American colonies were free and
independent,— Philadelphia Daily Advertiser.
WHITE SLAVERY.
What is there in Negro slavery, compared to
the abject misery, wretchedness, and suffering
depiced in the following article ?
Children in, Factories. —ln a report of the de
bates in the British House of Commons, upon
the subject of the labor of children in factories,
Lord Ashley stated it to be in proof, that up to the
last return, which was it 1835, the number of per
sons annually employed in the factories was 3G0,-
000; that in every 100 of these more than 55 were
females; that within the last three years the total
number any pr portion of females to males, had
considerably increased, and that no fewpr than
eighty different physicians ant! surgeons had de
po cd to the unhealthiness agd destructiveness of
j the system. The miseries inflicted might well be
j estimated by the fact, that the distance traversed
| by each of the children called piercers, in their dai-
J ly movements within the mill, amounted to 20, 25
and in some factories 30 miles a day, “an everage
of fatigue,” says Mr Gurthrie, the military sur
geon, “which is not endured by a soldier in the
presence of an enemy.” The mortality has bceu
such as was to be expected from such a slate of
things, that is to say, in the districts where this
system prevails, as many deaths take place under
twenty years of age, as in ordinary districts under
forty. The noble lord concluded by moving—
“that this house deeply regrets that the law affect
ing the regulaiiou of the labor of children in fac
tories, having been found imperfect and ineffective
to the purpose for which it was passed, has been
suffered to continue so long without any amend
ment.”
In an article on the importance of a proper
disposition of the relative pronoun and the antece
dent, the Albany Journal quotes the following sen
tence from Morse's Geography, describing Albany
30 years ago:
‘•lt contains,” says the Doctor, “about 2000 hou
ses and 2000 inhabitants, all standing with their
gable end to the street 1 -!"
This is about as good as SolomonGudv’s sign,
in the play, Solomon, exercised the ancient and
honorable profession of barber and rat catcher.
On his sign (a vera large one) was inscribed—
’’Soloman Gundy catches and shaves, ratsand
gentlemen.”— [Alexandria Gazette..
A peculiar state of mini.— A prisoner who had
just received sentence for two years, before the
Boston Muncipal Court, thus addressed the
judge :
‘I think my sentence is peculiarly and unjustly
severe, considering the comparative slight moral
turpitude of niy offence. What have I done,
more than to take fifteen dollars worth of another
mans property, when I was in a peculiar state of
mind 1 Ido not rise . however, to ask you to
change my sentence, but only to express a hopfc
that your official and mortal career may ter
minate before my sentence expires; and when
your career does terminate, I hope you will go
where Judge Jeffrey went before you, and he did
n’t go to’Heaven by a d—d sight.’
Bather Saury. —One of tho best jokes we have
lately heard of, was recently playeq off upon
gentleman of the bar in this city. A fellow arresa
ted on the charge of counterfeiting, employed th
gal gentleman as his counsel. The lawyer de-e
tended his client with hia accustomed ability, and
tried bis best to prove him an honest man, for which
of course the client was exceedingly grateful, and
being liberated on bail, paid his lawyer and depar
ted tor New York. Next day’, the lawyer ascer-.
tained that his honest client had paid him a ten
dollar counterfeit note ? That is what we call
“diamond cut diamond.”— Hart. Courier
OFFICIAL.
Mr. AxsoS .Tones whs this morning presented
by the acting Secretary of State to the PrksideSt
and delivered his letter accrediting him as Minister
Plenipotentiary of the Republic of Texas near
the United States.— Globe Oct. 9.
Front the XalionaC Portrait Gallery.
Rim Elli V. IIAIME.
Robert Y. Hxyne, the subject of this sketch,
was born near Charleston, South Carolina, ou the
10th November, 1791. He was the thud son of
a respectable planter, and is descended from a re
volutionary family, the only male members of
which, who were able to bein'arms in tire war of
the involution, sacrificed themselves iu the cause
of independence. The one lost his life in conse
quence of confi'ueineut in a British prison ship,
aud the other (the gallant <uut lamented martyr',
llaac Hay ne,) perished on a scaffold, the vlctlnj of
British perfidy and cruelty. The lather of the
subject of this sketch ImJ teu children—but in
consequence of the moderate extent of his for
tune, bud of pecuniary embarrassments, resulting
chiefly from liabilities incurred for others, he was
unable to give his son the benefit of collegiate ed
ucation. Robert, therefor©, Regan and finished
his education at a common grammar school in
the city of Charleston. He then, at the age es
17, commenced the study of the law, under the di
rection of Laugdon Chsves, well known through
out the uniou as an eliuhtcned jurist and distin
guished statesman. At the conclusion-Tis the u
aual period of study, during which he had appli
ed himself with unretnitted assiduity and clilli
geucc to the atiaimoeut of legal science, he was
admitted to practice his profession. An incident
may be here mentioned, which, as it is indicative
of that zeal and ardor to which, perhaps, Mr.
Hayne has been in a great measure indebted for
his success iu life, may well deserve a place in
this brief account of hi? career. Early iu 1812,
when our second w ar with Great Britain was rapid
ly approachiug. il requisition was made by the U.
States for a corps of militia to defend the sea
board. Mr. Hayue, though not then of age, and
incapable, therefore, by the laws of South Caro
lina, of practising as a lawyer, applied for and ob
tained leave from tite judges to be examined ; and
having obtained an order lor his admission to the
bar, upon the condition that his certificate' should
be withheld until he should atta in the age'of 91,
he immediately volunteered his services to the IT.
States, and took the field as a lieutenant in the
third regiment of State troops, with which he re
mained till after the expiration of their term of
service. Whilst serving at Fort Moultrie, (under
the command of Col. William Drayton, of the
regular army,) he delivered an address on the 4tb
July, 1812, to the officers and soldiers of that gar
risom This was his first effort as an orator, but
young as he Was, the patriotism of his seutimepts,
the classical purity of liis style, and the decisive
manifestations which he even then gave of the pos
session of- oratorical powers of a very high order,
brought him prominently forward to the public
view. Mr. Ha; ue is now major-general of tin-
South Carolina militia, to the improvement of
which, in discipline and military science, he jias
very essentially contributed by his zealous (bvo
tion to his duties in every grade, from the lowgjt
to the highest. He is universally acknowledged
to be one of the most accomplished and populu
officers that have ever exercised tho elevated con.
mand which he now holds.
On receiving an honorable discharge from the
service of the United States, Mr. liuyno returned
to Charleston, aud immediately eoinmei ced The
practice of the law. Having no patrimonial es
tate, he wa3, from the beginning, thrown upon
his own resources. Failing* lic-ir, however, in
some degree, to the practice of Mr. Cheves, who
had accepted a seat in Congress, he was rapidly
aiid eminently successful in his professional pur
suits. and his practice continued regularly to in
crease up to tiie period of his final retirement front
the bar. Before he bad attained his twenty-second
year, he found himself in possession of an income
which authorized him to incur the expeuses of a
family ; and from that time, it is believed, his pro
fessional advancement and emoluments were not
surpassed by those of any practitioner at the
Charleston bar.
Mr. Hstyne was first elected a member of the
Legislature in October, 1814. This was the first
general election which hid occurred since be had
attained hi& majority. And, as a very decisive ev
idence of tliejhigli stand which he even then oc
cupied in public estimation, and of the abundant
promise which he had even then given of future
usefnlness and distinction, it deserves to be men
tioned that he was elected at the head of a list of
thirty-one candidates, (most of them men of the
highest character and talents,) and that be receiv
ed on that occasion, probably, i lie largest amount
of votes ever given to am individual in a contested
election in the city of Charleston. For this very
flattering, and in one so young, extraordinary suc
cess, Mr. Hay ne was, no doubt, uniehi indebted to
the firm and decided stand which he had takpn in
support of Mr. Madison’s administration and the
war. Party spirit at that period, ran high. The
city of Charleston was nearly equally divided in
relation to the war, and upon ail the other great
questions which were then so warmly contested bv
the political parties of that day, Mr. Hayne, upon
all public occasion, avowed his opinions boldly,
and displayed unusual zeal and energy in support
of the principles he had espoused, and of the na
tional character and honor. On the 4th of July.
1814, particularly, he delivered the annual oration
as the organ of the democratic party, and of this
performance it is certainly but justice to remark,
that as none of the kind have ever been better
composed, or more forcibly delivered, so not one,
perhaps, has ever been attended with more trium
phant effect upon the feelings and understanding ,
of an audience, or upoH the political fortunes o'l
Us author. It was towards the close of that sam f
year in which that Oration was rle ivered, that Hi
was elected, as above mentioned, to the
ture of the State. F
IMr. Ilayne was now In his proper element, a ,#
liberative assembly. Upon taking his seat, hewas4<
chosen chairman of the military committee, then
the most important in the House—and having, at
the same time received the appointment from the
Governor of Quarter-Master General of the State,
he acted a very conspicuous part, not only in pre
paring and arranging the military defences of the
State, but in all the most important business of leg
islation, and especially in originating, advocating,
or supporting all such measures as were best cal
culated to strengthen the arm of the Federal Gov- >
eminent in the honorable contest in which it was
then engaged.
After having served five years in the House oi
Representatives, during which he had deservedly
acquired the reputation of one of the principal
debaters on the floor, Mr. Ilayne was unanimous
ly chosen Speaker of that body, and presided otcr
its deliberations during the session of 1818*
stronger proof need be given than this, r fthe!iig u
estimafionjto which he had risen at the early ag«
of twenty-seven. The occupancy of that chair,
at such an age, is a compliment which has bet! l
awarded to him alone, nor Is it more thanconun» :l
justice tt) say; that he proved bJQJself worthy«