THE GEORGIA MIRROR,
13 PUBLISHKD EVERY TUESDAY,
Ijv 12. R.irdiii'r A: J. L» kSull,
( E litors and Proprietors.)
At niU.EE DODLARS a year, it' paid in
advance, or FOUR DOLLARS, if not paid
until the end of the year.
Ydvertisements will bs conspicuously
inserted it One Dollar per square, (15 lines
or lass,) U ie irs, » cents for each sub
\ll a tvertisenvmts linn led in for publi
cation vitlionl t limitation, will be published
ti l forbid, an 1 charged accordingly.
Soles of Land and Negroes by Execu
tors, Yd uiuistrators and Guardians, are re
quired by law to be advertised iu a public
<1 i/.ette, sixty days previous to the day of
Tht sale of Personal property must be
a lver ise<' in like m inner torty days.
N nice to Debtors and Creditors of an
estate nust be published lolly days.
Notice that application will be made to
the < lourt of Ordinary for leave to sell Land
and Negroes, must be published weekly lor
four months. , . „
r- s. A il Letters on business must o
““ JOB PiUNTInG.
/NdVMivCl’El) with ih ■ o ice of the
W MUI 11‘dit. is a sple.i h 1 apartment ol
ds 7 '£ J.’ .j* -2 J
\n I we are enabled to exettte all kind of Job
c .vork. in the neatest manner aud at the short
st notice. __ T^
of every description vviii con.suutly be kept
o.i hand, sucli as
S icri Facias,
1 Jee.iaratioii Yssumpsit,
M’-ix Collector Executions,
Idi ink Notes, Arc
tV 111*4910 !l House.
~ r ■ 1 HE subscribers have as
. f I sociated themselves to
! as COMMISSION
<***£»«** MERCHANTS, under the
iiqmp nnd stvle ot
r/iir.v £>. rri'TSVCo.
qq,„v Inve purchased the eonmiodious
WYRE-JK>USE and CLOSE STORE,
h,eiy .pied by .lernigan, Laurence &Cos
where they will I‘ec 1 ‘ ecf ‘ ive CO | lION
GO )DS in store, and advance only upon cot
t.,., j u their possession and under tlieir con
t 01. Their charges will be as customary.
The business will be conducted by John
TANARUS) l>,tts. We s .licit the patronage ot tint
pit!,lie, and are prepared to give Columbus |
prices for Cotton. p
M. J. LAURENCE.
Florence, Nov. 10 33 ts
J. ]>. B I'AKii,
F33WARDINB AMO .COMMISSION
St. Joseph, Fla.
January 19, 1839.
r*p *i 15 »uW:ritiar having recently re.pleu
.l. ished his stock, invites his custom
ers and the public genera;!*, to call and ex
amine for themselves. His goods are nns
and well selected and ho is tillering them on
as good terms as any iu the nicker. ilis
block consists in part of the Inflow lug .
A variety of Broad Oiotlw,
Bombazines and Romba/.ettes,
Red and White Flannel,
A g 10 1 assortment of
£isa:Vj «TI.J Ac Clolhi <*»»
A large supply ol BUY) L C> and -aiiOL.-,
OBNTEMBS’S ANU LADIES
SADDLES, BRIDLES AND MAfITINCALS.
Crockery, Hardware and Cutlery,
With a variety of other articles suitable
to the season, which he takes great pleasure
in offering to his customers and the pub
lie, at liis uew store oa the-North side Cen
tre streH. __ _,.-«
Jan 12 40 THO; GARDNER.
rqpilE undersigned liaving associated
.1 them selves under the name and style
of ll.irvev &‘Ch istain, offer for sale anew
and <v»ll selected Stock of Goods, \V ares.
Hud Merclian lize, from Charleston, viz.
Silk Lustring and Mattronas,
r Anew assorted Stock ot English and \-
rnerican Prints, Furniture Prints, Bonnets,
H its, Shoes, of all kinds, Bridles, Saddles
and Martingales. Besides a variety of oth
er articles too tedious to mention. W hich
will be sold low for cash or undoubted cre
Tlie pnbli* are requested to call aud ex
amine for thomselves.
JOHN P. HARVEY,
March 26, 1339 50
rpIHE SUBSCRIBERS have just re
-JL ceivcd a select lot of
which they offer on reasonable terms for
- ROOD Ac TALMAN.
Dec 15 37 ts
SOUTHERN LITERACY MESSENGER.
fJIHIS is a monthly Magazine, devoted
J- chiefly to Literature, Imt occasion
ally finding room also lor articles tkn fall
within the scope of Science ; and not pro
essiug an entire disdain of tasteful selections,
though its matter has been, as it will con
tiaue to be, in the main, original.
Party Politics, and controversial Theol
ogy, as far as possible, are jealously exclu
ded. They are sometimes so blended with
discussions in literatuie or in moral sci
cnee, otherwise unobjectionable, as to gain
admittance for the sake of the more valu
able mtitvr to which they adhere: bin
whenever that happens they are incidental ,
only, not primary. They are dross, tolera
ted onlv because it cannot well be severed
from the sterling ore wherewith it is incur
Reviews and Critical Notices, occit
py their due space in the work : and it is the
Editor's aim that they should have a three
fold tendency—to convey, in a condensed
form, such valuable truths or interesting in
cidauts as are embodied in the works re
viewed,—to direct the readers attention to
books that deserve to be read—a:iJ to wan
him against wasting time and money upon
that large number, which merit only to be
burned. In this age of publications that by
tlieir variety and multitude, distract and o
ve. whelnm every undiseriminating student..
impartial criticism, governed by the views
ju«t mentioned, is one of the most inesti
mable and indispensable of auxiliaries to him
who does toisit to discriminate.
Essays and Tales, having in view utility
or amusement, or both; Historical sket
ches —and Reminisencks ofeventstoo min
ute for History yet elucidating it, and
heightuing its interest—may be regarded
as foniiioq the staple of the wprk. And
of indigenous Poetry, enough is publish
ed—sometimes of no mean strain—to man
ifest and to cultivate the growing poetical
taste and talents of our country.
'Phe times appear, for several reasons, to
demand such a work—aud not one alone,
but inanyt The public mind is feverish
anil irritated still, from recent political
strifes: The soft, assunsive influence of Lit
erature is needed, to allay that fever, and
soothe that irritation. Vice anil folly are
rioting abroad :—They should be driven by
indignant rebuke, or lashed bv ridicule, in
to tlieir fitting haunts. Ignorance lords it
over an immense proportion ot our peo
pie:—Every spring should be set in motion,
to arouse the enlightened, and to increase
their number; so that the great enemy of
popular government may no longer brood,
like a portentous cloud, over the destinies
of our country. Ynd to accomplish all
these ends, what more powerful agent can
be employed, than a periodical on the plan
of the Messenger; if that plan be but car
ried out in practice?
The South peculiarly requires such an
agent. In all tho Union, south of Washing
ton, there are but*two Literary periodicals!
Northward of that city, there are probably
at least twenty-five or thirty ! Is this con
trast justified by the wealth, the leisure,
the native talpnt, or the actual literarv taste
of the Southern people, compared with
those of the Northern 1 No: for in wealth,
talents and taste, we may justly claim, at
least, an equalily with our brethren mil a
domestic institution exclusively onr own,
beyond all doubt, a fords us, if we choose,
twice the leisure for reading and writing
which they enjoy.
It was from a deep sense of this local want
that the word Southern was engratted on
this periodical: and not with any design to
nourish loeai prejudices, or to advocate sup
posed local inte ests. Far from any such
thought, it is the Editor’s fervent wish, to
see me North and South bound endearing
ly together, forever, in the silken bands of
mutual kindness and affection. lai from
meditating hostility to the north, he has al
ready drawn, and he hopes hereafter to
draw, nini’b of l.io choicest matter thence;
and happy indeed will he deem himself,
should lus pages, bv making each region
know the other better contribute in any es
sential degree to dispel the lowering clouds
that now threaten the peace ol both, and
to brighten ami strengthen the sacred ties
of fraternal love.
The Southern Literary Messenger has
new been inexistence lour years—the pre
sent No commencing t lie fifth volume.
How far it has acted out the ideas here ut
tered, is not for the Editor to say ; he be
lieves, however, that it lulls not further short
of them, than human weakness usually
makes Practice fall short of Theory.
1. The Southern Literary Messenger is
published in monthly numbers, of 6-1 large
superroyal octavo pages each, on the best of
paper, and neatly covered, at do a year—
payable in advance.
2. Or live new subscribers, by sending
theit names and S2O at one time to the edi
tor, will receive their copies lor one year,
for that sum. o> at $4 for each.
3. The risk of loss of payments for sub
scriptions, which have been properly com
mitted to the mail, or to the hands of a post
master, is assumed by the editor
4. If a subscription is not directed to be
discontinued before the first number of the
next volume has been published, it will be
taken ns a continuance for another year.
Subscriptions must commence with the be
ginning ot the volume, and will not be ta
ken for less than a year’s publication.
6. The mutual obligations of the publish
er and subscriber, for the year, are fully in
curred as soon as the first number of the
volume is issued : and after that time, wo
discontinuance ot a subscription will be
permitted. Nor will a subscription be dis
continued for any earlier notice, while yna
thing thereon remains due, unless at the
option of the Editor.
[N conformity to a Resolution of ihe Flor
ence company, will be sold on tlie Ist
Monday in July, two wharf lots.
Terms made known on the day of sale.
11. W. JERNIGAN, Agent
April 15 1839. 1
TTENRY A. GARRF.TT is the author
_i I- ised agent to take notes, receive cash
and give receipts for any demands due the
,n'e and Female Academies at Florence.
M May 6 4 THE TRUSTEES.
mim a* asm
soft es i: i: \ “ fa e: ii er.
\ T the earnest solicitation of a large
J-I number of our fellow-citizens, we is
-uea Fiospeitus for the publication of a
weekly paper to he styled THE JSOUTH
ERN FARMER, aud devoted exclusively
to the improvement of Agriculture, and the
general interns' of the I’limter. \\’e are
; persuaded that a work of this character is
essentially needed iutliis State; that its ad
vantages are duly appreciated ; and that we
have only to commence the publication in
order to be patronized anil sustained by the
great body of the people.
At tbe North, where works of tliskind
have long been fostered and encouru"t'd. Ag
riculture is studied as a department of sci
ence, and is therefore in a continued and
rapid state of imprnvem nt: in consequence j
of which, industry and economy are pro
moted in all classes, and the substantial coin
ortsof life are accumulating around every
\Ve, of the South, have always beensu
linely neg'igeutof our best interests in ref
•rence to this subject, and it is now high
im« that we should shake off our lethargy,
md our shameful dependant s upon ti e
for every valuable sugp *stion in Ag
riculture as well as Literature. Why is it,
that the fresh -nd fertile fields <f the South
cannot vie in the quantity and qualitv of
(heir productions, with the old and worn out
fields of the North 1 An answer may be
found in the fact that Northern fa. Tiers de
vote more attention and study to the im
provement of ti e various branches of Agri
culture. With the advantages in point of
soil and climate, which our Southern States
undoubtedly possess, we see no other reason
for tbe paucity of tlieir productions, than
impe’fection iu the Agricultural system here
Agriculture may be considered both as an
art and a science, depending upon innumet
able sources for its perfection, and applica
ble to every spot of earth Inhabited by man ;
and no individual can acquire by his own ex
perience alone, more than a limited degree
of knowledge on the subject. A paper ol
thekindwepropo.se to establish, will ofi'ei
great advantages for tlie -interchange of ex
perience and opinion, by which every indi
vidual may possess himself of the combined
observations of a great number, with whose
interest his own is identified. By this means
u general intelligence in relation to agrieul
tural subjects, and a competent knowledge
of the principles that govern its operations
will be diffused throughout the community,
and thus afford increased stimulus and en
couragement to all who are engaged in its
pursuits. We conceive onr undertaking to
lie a laudable one, and therefore respectfully
call upon the public for patronage aud sup
Communications from practical men, on
practicable subjects, will, at all times find a
place in the columns of tbe SOUTHERN
FARMER, null Ii *»in tbo intorest which
some of our intelligent friends havealreadi
evinced for its succe-s. we h v<* no doubt ol
being able to pre«eut to the public an inter
esting and valuable paper.
The publication will be commenced as
s >on as a sufficient number of subscriber
are obtained to authorize it.
'PERMS. Tbe Southern Farmer will bi
published weekly, on fine paper, in quarto
fuiai, at the rate of Three Dollars per an
num, i lyablt, in all cases, in advance. Sub
scriber to t lie Georgia Mirror will be en
titled to receive »he Southern Farmer at
Two Dollars per annum. Both papers will
heseut i'o one address for Five Dollars.
GARDNER A BULL.
Florence, Ga. May 17, 1839.
'LANir FOir SALET"
HP HE Subscriber would sell the follow*
Jl iog Lots of Land low lor cash:
No 58, 16th dist. of Dooly.
No. 229 do.. do.
No. 2. 15th dist. of Early.
No 511, 7th dist. of Irwin.
No. -108, 38th dist. of Early.
No. 130, 12th dist. of Dooly.
Apply to the Subscriber in Monroe coun
tv Ga. JOHN PITMAN.
May 15, 19.39 6 .3t
jyr IIALF 9 14 30
In . s. half 4 14 .30
N. half 8 14 30
N. half 7 14 30
S. half 7 14 30
S. half 6 14 30
S. half 11 14 29
S. half 20 18 28
S. half 34 19 28
N. half 36 19 < 29
S. half 36 19 29
W. half 29 16 2C
N. half 6 16 30
E. half 01 22 26
E. half 22 13 23
N. half 33 20 26
S. half 32 13 28
W. half 26 15 24
S. half 29 16 25
L. half 2 18 25
of the above Lands will be sold on
terms to suit purchasers, by application to
! John D. Pitts, Esq. Florence, Ga. or to the
subsciber, at Macon.
July 20 18 .1. TOWLES.
rj|rt HE seasonhavingcom
f*C r ' JiJC -I- menced on the first
CTK of March, ih>s horse will
stand at Lumpkin and Flor
ence, each, alternately, three days at a
time. Persons may know where he may be
found, by counting *he days which lie re
mains at each place. He was in Florence on
the 3d, 4th and sth ; in Lumpkin fitli, 7th
and Btb, anil from thence by niv bouse and
Wrn Porter’s on his return to Florence, ev
ery week regularly, thereafter.
Any solvent gentlemen who will make
up a company of 12 mares, shall receive the
12th the season gratis.
T. W. PEARCE
March 12 43
THE .Subscriber will attend to the eollec
lion of all debts dm tbe late firm o(
Gardner !c Barrow, up *o April, 1839.
Persons indebted to said firm will please
make payment immediately
April 30 H H BARROW
Prom the Terns Notional Inlrllinearer.
THE LOAFER S LAMENT.
Aik—Exile of Erin.
There rnme to tbe wharf a poor broken down
The beard on bis black chin had long been
For whiskey he sigh'd, but his last spree
Ills pockets were empty—his shin plasters
But the grog shop attracted his eye's sad
For be knew, that inspired with brandy’s
He bad reeled ou that floor, like a ship in the
Ashe walked to the bar fora smaller of
Sad is my fate said the lienrt-br»ken loafer,
Tbe dog and tbe tom cat to shelter can flee,
But 1 a'nt got a coat, my poor 'arcass to cover
And nobody cares a rum smaller for me.
Ne*er again iu green Washington square.
Can I take a sweet snooze—for the consta
ble's there ;
He'd carry me offin a style mighty queer,
Aud march me to jail in the skip of a flea.
Whiskey, my lov’d one! tlio’ sad and for
In dreams of the bottle I joyfully come ;
But alas! in a stall in fish market 1 awaken,
With the skin of my tl r jat just as dry as
Oh, rruel fate! wilt thou never replare me.
In a grog-shop again, where no constables
Whc.e ibe busters I once knew, again shall
And call for more liquor to welcome me
Where is the tavern that stood by the market.
Where nine times a day forajnlap I'd call.
And we, jolly souls, all the evening would
Busters and friends! we have wept for its
No more in that temple the jolly boys meet,
No longerwe loafers each other may greet,
They tore down the tavern to nuke anew
In sadness I saw them demolish tbe wall.
Yet all its sail recollections suppressing,
One wish alone my poor bosom will draw.
And bequeath to that Uiud heart a loafer’s
Who'll give me a smaller to moisten my
Th°» sleep on the stall where my legs cease
I'll dream that I float in an alcohol ocean.
And quaffing its waves sing aloud with de
Whiskey, I Jove thee best when thou art
THE FIRST AND LAST TICKET.
MASUSCRIPT OF a CRIMNAL.
My first ticket was a blank. I was per
suad'd by a friend 'o buy it, who tempted
me by holding up to view the glittering
prize, and exciting my hopes of obtaining
t. 1 was not disappointed at tbe result cf
my purchase, although a curse involuntarily
burst from my lips when 1 first learned it.
I hardly thought of drawing a high prize ;
yet tbe possibility of being so fortunate kept
my mind inconstant burning excitement, I
was a voting man then, and could ill afford
to loose the cost of the ticket. However,
I comforted my* elf with the reflection, that
experience must be paid for. I also made
a determination that I would not be so fool
ish again. I kept it unbroken (dr six
months: yet all that time there was a wins
pering in iny ear— ,l try again, you may be
more fortunate /” It was the whispering of
rny evil genius—and I obeyed it. J bought
part of a ticket and drew five hundred. 1
bail previously to this, being in a good sit
uation, and with every prospect of doing
well in the world, engaged myself to Eliza
Berton, a young lady who had long posses
sed my affections. She was one
no, I will not, 1 cannot speak of her as she
was We I ', shortly after my good fortune ;
I should sax my misfortune —I married lier.
I was considerably elated with my luck, and
tieated my friend's freely. I did not how
ever buy any tickets at that time, though
s ronely urged. One evening, after I had
been married some months, 1 went out to visit
a friend, intending to returu in the course of
an hour. On the way to my friend’s house,
I passed a lottery office. It was brilliantly
lighted up. and in the wipdows were temp
tingly displayed schemes of chance, and in
vitations to purchase. 1 had not tried my
luck since my marriage, and had given up
buying tickets. As 1 passed by tbe window
of Ibe office my eye caught the billowing in
illuminated letters arid figures—“slo 000
prize tcdl be heard from this night. Tick
ets So.” I hesitated a moment, tlieti walked
on ‘who knows but what 1 may, get it?’
Is> and to myself. 1 stopped : turned about;
still hesitating; ‘try again,’ I beard, and re
tracting my steps, I went into the office. A
number of my acquaintances were sitting
there smoking. The vender gave me a se
gar, and after a while asked me if I should
no' like to try my luck in tbe lottery ; which
he was expecting every moment to hear
from his clerk having gone out to await the
opening of the mail. So saying he hand
ed me out a package of quartets, which he
prevailed on me to take, and pay twenty
five dollars; the price he sold them at.
The clerk soon came with a list of the
drawing; and I left the office that evening
one thousand dollars better off than when
1 entered. But where for? For home?
No—for the tavern; all went for a treat.
At midnight, I went home to my anxious,
sleepless wife, in a fit ot intoxication. This
was her first experience. * * *
A week went by, and Eliza began to smile
again. The excitement I was in that night,
she admitted as an excuse for my cptiduct.
But she tenderly advised me, nay on her
knees in the stillness of our charrbet, every
night she implored God to have me in his
keeping,—to preserve me from temptation.
1 was ashamed of myself; and I solemnly
swore to abstain altogether from tickets.
My wife was herself auain. Months passed
away; a charge was entrusted to my keep
ing; a holy charge. I was presented « itli
a son. He took his father's name. Thank
God! he will not bear his sorrows; his
shame ! 1w as happy as man need be for
a year. Business prospered ; I enjoyed
good health, and was blessed with a happy
home where all was peace.
I said Iwashappv—-I was at times; but
there was a secret thirst wltliiu for riches ;
and yet 1 was not avaricious; nor was 1 parsi
monious. IS>it the desire had been awaken
ed ; the hope been encouraged, that, by
venturing little, much might be had, anil
although by lottery gambling, yet a burning
thought of gain; of gain by lotteries; agi
tated me day and night. In the day time,
about my business, the thought that by ven
turing a few dollars, 1 might draw enough
to make me independent ot labor; to allow
me to live at ease, was uppermost in my
mind ; and every night I received a large
sum of prize money. 1 strove to banish
such desires from my mind; but they
haunted me like au evil spirit.
About eighteen months after taking my
oath, a grand scheme was advertised to he
drawn on a certain dav in my own town. I
felt a strong propensity to try my luck again.
1 was importuned by my friends to buy tick
ets; the scheme was good—the chance ol
success was so great ; but I thought of the
oath I had taken, and was firm in my denial.
The day of drawing drew nigh. The ven
der who sold me the prize urged me to take
a tew-tickets—-I was also urged by others;
even in the, presence of my wile But 1
resisted it. Bhe, trusting me, said not a
word ; she knew my oath was pledged ; she
knew that 1 remembered it,-—and she hart
confidence iu r.iy Keeping it sacred. St.<-
oniy gave a glance of pleasure, it may be
triumph as she heard me 'refuse my friends
invitation. That night 1 drecmjrt that a
particular number would he a fortunate one ;
that I purchased it, and it came up the
highest prize. When I arose in the morn
ing my firmness was a little shaken ; it was
the day of drawing. A friend came into
my store in the forenoon and showed me a
parcel of tickets ; amongst them l saw the
number of mv dream! He offered them to
me; 1 forgot myself; I mocked my God ;
[ broke my oath; I did not stay in the
house at noon auy longer than to hurry
through with my dinner. My wile s pres
ence was a burden to me; her happy suiiles
discomfilted me, and hercheerful tones went
to my heart like a reproach. From that
day her presence was a curse to me; not
ihat I loved her less; not that she had
changed ; but how could J stand before her,
perjured as I was, and she the while not
doubting my innocence; how could I with
out (effing my unholiness t A thousand
times that forenoon did 1 resolve to seek my
Iflend m (1 return liiin the ticket, and so of
ten dill I break them. Conscience smote
heavily. But tli<» prize, thought 1, will
check it Fool, to think paltry gold would
reconcile an offended God; would buy off
punishment! The lottery was drawn that
afternoon. That evening I sat alone with
my wife in her room. She was talking of
the folly of some men, in not being con
(ented with whai they possessed, and lot
being ever on the search fur more. 'llow
many hearts have been agitated ; wound up
to the highest pitch, this afternoon, in hopes
of drawing a prize., What could I do ?
I was there, and had to listen to her, al
though each word seemed like a burning
coal at my heart. She continued—
•And how many have spent that, which
should have gone for bread and clothing lor
their families; and for what? For a vain
hope of obtaining more ! for a piece of mere
colored paper! And think you, my hus
band, there has been no vows violated, no
oath’s broken this afternoon ?’ 1 made no
answer, and she went on; ‘lf there are any
stich and if they have been unfortunate,
how bitter must be their disappointment, and
how doubly keen their remorse ! Are you
not. David, better pleased with y ourself this
evening for not buying tickets ; allowing
you had not pledged your oath not to med
dle with them; than you would have been,
had you purchashed them and made money
by it’?’ Thus did the woman talk to me,
as though 1 were as pure and guiltless as
herself.. She knew not that at the moment
her words were like and iggers to my heart;
that every motion of her lips my soul
writhed in agony; she knew not that my
pocket book was crammed with the acursed
tickets; blank tickets! And when she
poured outlier soul in prayer that night, she
knew not that lie. for whom she prayed,
dared not listen to her words, hut stopped
his ears. So it was.
‘Do my dear husband, stay at home, one
evening this week ! You shall read to me,
or I will read to you ! come, keep me com
pany this evening.’ Thus said my wife
one evening as she took me affectionately by
the arm, a tear at the same time filling her
eye. Brute that 1 was! 1 shook her off re
pulsively, scarcely deigning her a reply
as I went out. 1 was an altered man ;my
innocence had departed from me ; 1 had
perjured inysvlf. My oath once broken I
still continued to break it. Not a lottery was
drawn but that I had some chance in it. I'll
luck attended me. Blanks; blanks were my
portion. Still 1 kept on. Most of my
hours were spent in lottery offices. I neg
lected my business; debts accumulated;
wants came upon me; and Iliad nothing to
satisfy them with but a hope ; a hope, that
at the next ing I should I e lucky. A*
cares increased I went to a tavern (or re
lief. Remorse gnawed at my heart like a
worm. It had drank up all my happiness.
When I first broke my oath 1 thought gold
would still my conscience. Gold I had
none, so I attempted to ease it by strong
drink. Rum burnt up my tender feelings ;
mv better nature ; but it only added to the
quenchless fire that was raging at my heart.
It was not uncommon tor me at this stage,
to get intoxicated every night. Oft have I
I staggered home to my patient, dying Eliza;
for mv conduct was making sad inroads on a
constitution naturally delicate ; and without
a shadow of cause fell to abusing her.
What insult and misery has not that
vvomajj -endured! and all brought on by
me her husband, her protector! Abou^
this time our child die'’. I dare not think
of his death; how it was Inuught on. The
poor child might have lived longer; per
haps lie might; but he complained of beiug
cold sometimes, of wanting clothes; and
sometimes his cry for bread was vain. It
was a great shock to my w ile ; and her grad
ual fading, day by day sobered me, and
made me thoughtful. But what had Ito
do with reflection 1 The past was made up
of sharp points, and when 1 turned to it I
was pierced! and the future; what could
\ anticipate ? what was there in store fer
me ? So 1 closed my ears—shut my heart
to the starving condition ot Eliza, and be
came a brute again.
It was in the evening of a wet, cloudy
day, that I sallied forth from my boarding
hovel, to shame and sin, to learn the fate of
my last ticket, 'i o obtain it, I had to dis
pose of a Bible, which belonged to my late
wife—my dead Eliza ; and which was the
dying gift of her mother. It was the last
thing that I Held that had belonged to her.
One by one, had I disposed ol what little
effects she left, to gratify n.y passion for
drinking and gambling. 1 had lost all feel
ings of shame. My wife had been dead
The ticket I now had was to seal myfate.
I had lasted more than one day to obtain
means to purchase it; I had even stinted ny
drink for means sostroi g was my passion lor
gambling. Well I went into the office and
called for the prize list. At a glance I saw
that my hopes were frustrated; and crushing
the list convulsively in my hand, 1 muttered
a dee| oath and stulked out of the office.
That ticket indeed sealed my late. ‘The
world owes me a living, and a living I will
have!’ 1 said to myself as 1 turned away
with a desparing heart and walked up the
street. My mind was suddenly made
up to a strong purpose. ‘There is
money!’ 1 said betwr-c" *»•••*-. 1
iifrrti ulontr meditating some desperate
Uni'll. 1 knew jmt the time of night; it was
la.e, however, for the stores were all closed,
when a man biushed by me. As he passed
1 saw it was the vender of tickets— -the man
who had sold me the first and last ticket—
the man to whom I had j aid dollar after
dollar, until all was gone. He had a t -Unk
in his hand, and was probably going home. -
•This man,’ thought 1, ‘lias received fiom
me even to the last laithing; shall r ot I he
ju-tified in compe ling h m to return a part ?
at least ought he not be made to give me
something to relieve my misery; to keep
me from starving?’ Such was my reason
ing, as 1 buttoned my jacket and slowly fol
lowed him. BeldrJ reaching his house, he
had to pass over a lorn )y space, where there
were no houses, and ai that time cf the
night hut little passing. He had gone over
half this space, when I stepped quickly and
warily behind him; and grasping with one
hand his r ollar and witH the other his trunk
iu a gruff voice demanded his moi ev. ILe
words were barely uttered before 1 was
grappled by the throat, lie was a strong
mail and he had a dangerous hold. 1 put
‘orthall mv strength to shake off his grasp,
striki* g him at the same time in the face
and breast, hut without avail—he still kept
his hold. Finding that something decisive
must be doue, for 1 could with diflicuhy
b:eat)ie, 1 clasped him round the middle,
and giving him a sudden jerk, we both fell
to the ground. 1 feU underneath and he
had me in his power. I struggled in vain
to fiee myself. He still held me by the
throat, and lie began to cry for assistance.
What was to he dine? 1 had a jack knife
in my pocket; there was no time for reflec
tion ; my left hand was free ; it was the work
of a moment; the hot blood spirted from
his heart full in my face. ILs hold relaxed,
and giving a terrible groan he rolled on the
ground in agony. ] sprang upon my feet
and snatched the trunk ; as I moved away
in the|darkness, the death ra tie ih the throat
of rny victim came fearfully upon my ears.
What followed until 1 fouud myself
chained iu this dungeon 1 know not, 1 had
alaint lecollcctiou of flying Irom the spot
where lay the dying man: of being aroused
in the morning by the officers ot justice;
of a court room, where was displayed the
trunk Pound in my possession, and the hc'fe
taken.fro in the breast of the corpse wnh u.jr
name on the handle. 1 have a more distinct
recollection of an after trial and of a con
demnation ; and to-morrow the jailor tells
me lam to die—to be public ly executed.
1 acknowledge the justice of my* punish
ment; I deserve death; and may God show
mercy to him who showed no mercy !
A Fragment. —Follow him, il ycu have a
heart to do it, as he staggers along, now and
then licking the ground, till he reaches his
once p acelul home. “He's coming,” cry
the little innocents, as they look through
the window, but it is not the cry of joy, that
welcomes the parent as he approaches his
tender family ; ah, no ! it is the cry of fear;
of horror! See them flee from him as
front a monster; look at the broken hearted
mother, as she takes up her affnghted boy
and bathes him with her tears. “Ah,” says
she to her children, “your father once loved
you ; once he loved me; he was a kind
husband, and a provident parent; but now
we are forsaken ; your little tender feet feel
the nipping frost ; your bodies shiver with
cold; your tattered clothes are falling from
vou.and 1 have no new ones to give; you
lire hungry, but I have no bread for you ;
the necessities of life your father was once
wont to bring home to cheer our hearts, are
now changed for the bottle, which some
demon furnished him with, perhaps as the
reward of his day’s labor. O cruel employ
er ! come and behold the fruits ot your io
iqnitv; see miseries entailed npon the
wretched mother, and the worse than lather
less children, by yauf thirst of gain !” Let
the imagination supply the remaining part
of the aw ful picture.
Paimt Corn flanter. —Avery ingenious
and yet simple contrivance for planting
corn has been invented and patented by
Mr. John M- Forrest of Princess Ao»
County. It is in the form of a plough,
and as the furrow is laid ofifby the share,
the grains are dropped into it through
an aperture io a round revolving box
which contains the (corn; and eonple if
hoes, adapted for the purpose, throw th*
earth from both sides of the furrow and
| cover them up* The operation is certau tv ;
j and the fixtures arc not liable to be thrown