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[The Western Herald.
VOL. I.
PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MORNING
BY O. P. SHAW,
AND
klited l>y A. G> FAMBROUGHi
•I frms.—Tliree dollars per annum, payable within six
~,ths after the receipt of the first number, or four dol- •
if not paid witlfin the year. Subscribers living out of
; gtate> W ill be expected in all cases, to pay in advance,
r,O subscription received for less than one year, unless
- money is paid in advance; and no paper will bedis
i tinued until all arrearages are paid, except at the op
ofthe publisher. Persons requesting a discontmu
, e of their Papers, are requested to bear in mind, a sct
,nent of their accounts.
Advertisements will be inserted at the usual rates.
V--P> All Letters to the Editor or Proprietor, on mat
jOTntmcted with the establishment, must be post paid
order to secure attention.
rT I 'Notice oftlic sale of Land and Negroes, l>v Ad-
Wrators. Executors, or Guardians, must be published
■j days previous to the day of sale,
the sale of personal Property, in like manner, must be
Wished FORTY DAYS previous to the day ot tale.
Notice to debtors and creditors of an estate must be
blished forty days.
Nntic” that Application will be made to the Court of
dinaly for Leave to sell Land or Negroes,must be pub
sed rovr. months.
Notice that Application will be made for Letters of Ad
nSon, must be published thirty days and for
■Hers of Dismission, six months.
■rpl’he following named gentleman are requested
and authorised to act as our Agents, in their respective
“n\he county of Baldwin, Tlios. F. Greene, Esq.
jm, The Hon. C. 13. Strong.
Butts, L. A. Erwin, Esq.
Columbia , L. Flemming, rtjs
Crawford, Hiram Warner, Esq.
Coweta, James A. Abraham, Esq.
Campbell, Thomas A. Latham, Esq.
Carroll, Thomas iVlcGmrc, and John A. Jones, Lsqs.
Chatham, John Boston, & Go. M. H. cAUh ,r, ,q.
Clark. Col. Joseph Ligon, and 0.1. fthaw,
Cass, Thomas W. Bolton and Joan Dawson, Esqrs.
Cobb, J. R. Brooks, Esq.
Cherokee, John P. Brooks Esq. „
IhKalb, iV'illiam T. Howard,and Josian Cl.oiM ,E. jrs.
Decatur, James Bell, Esq.
Fayette, N. Blanchard, Esq.
franklin, Col. James C. Terrell.
I Dad of Coosa, Geo.. Lavender, Esq.
}loyd, Alexander T. Harper, Esq.
Forsyth, Thomas J. Golightly, Esq. ;
Gilmer, Benjamin J Griffith, Esq.
Glynn, Coi. rs. M Burnett,
t twin nett, Dr. T. W. Alexander,
Greene, Col. Y. P. King, and F. S. Cone, Esq
I'nbersham, Maj.T.H. Tnppe, and Col. I. J. Lusk,
Halt, W. Harhen, and J. \V, Jones, Esqrs.
Henry, William Crayton, Esq.
Harris, Gen. Daniel McDouga.d.
Hancock, Col. N. O. Sayre,
Heard, Col. Win. 11. Houghton.
fackson, W. E. Jones, Esq.
Jasper, E. Y. Hill, Esq.
f.aurens, Col. Kelium.
Liberty, C. Ilines, Esq.
Lee, iVlaj. Thomas.
.Mclntosh, Col. D. H. Braihford.
Morgan, W. J. Pearman, Esq.
Madison, William Maroney.
Monroe, Col. A. H. Chappell, Sr Win. L. 1 ambrougli.
Muscogee, W. T. Colquitt be S. \V. h lournoy', Esqrs.
.Vexcton, Messrs. Hopkins & Sanders,
Oglethorpe, John Moore ,Esq.
Paulding, Joel Hicks, Esq.
Putnam, James A. Mcrnwctlicr, Esq. _ j
Pike, Dr. J. S.Long,and A. 3V. Pryor Esq.
Pulaski, Dr. Tlibbler.
llichnwnd, Messrs. Randall & Mason.
Ilandolph, Gen. H. Jones.
•SYriren, Jacob Bryan, Esq.
Twiggs, The Hon. Lott Warren.
Talbot, Drs. Phillip’s & Bugg,
Troup, Col. J. C. Alford.
Taliaferro, Bradford Thompson Esq. & Col. Janes,
Epson, Col. John Thomas, and Thomas Bell, Esq.
I dikes, Daniel Chandler, Esq.
IFarren, Gray A. Chandler, Esq.
1 Fallon, Col. E. G. Bell, and John T. Morrow, Esq.
V^OST-MASTERS, below the
:■ I counties formed out of the Chcro
kee territory', will please not to forward
letters and packegcs directed to other
sccs, to Cherokee Court-house—there are three post
iiles passing parallel tlirough w'hat was originally
lerokee; the lower route by way of DeKalb County, to
indfoidville, (Dawson,) in Cass countv, to the head of
:>osa in Floyd County; the middle route by Warsaw in
winnettcounty, Hickory Flat in Cherokee county, and
hcrokee Court-House, to New Ecliota in Murray coun
; the upper and long established route, by Gainesville
id Murraysville in Hall county, New Bridge ir. Lutnp
n county, Hightower in Forsyth county, Harnagevillc
Cherokee, Talkingrock in Gilmer, to Spring place in
urrav county. If ii little attention is given to the above,
uch difficulty and dissatisfaction can not
nding letters and papers to offices to which they arc not
rected. A POSTMASTER.
April 30.—4
TAILORING.
Hi&lTDo
V AKE3 this method to inform the public, that be has
co-umeuced the Tailoring business, in all its vari
s branches in the Town of Auraria, where if strict at-
I work done by w ,n > war and
June 4.—9—ts
X. B. Particularattcntiott tocu tin, ~’
The following is a list of Post Office-’ established m
s Judicial Circuit, to wit: — „ .
Cherokee County. —At the Court House, TYffl. n
am. •
llarnagerille —H. T. Simmons, P. M.
Hickory Flat —Eli M’Connell, P. M.
Cass County —At the Court House.
Two Rims—Chester Hawks, P. M.
•Idairsville —Barnet S. Hardeman, P. M.
Sanj'ordviUe —John Davison, P. M.
Pine Log —James A. Thompson, P. M.
Floyd County —At the Court House, Head of Coosa ;
!. M. Lavender, P. M.; Vann’s Valley, James Hcnip
-11, P. M.
Forsyth County —At the Court House. Hightower ;
..... Scudder, P. M.
Gilmer County —At the Court House. Talking Rock;
fK. Nelson, P. M.
Lumpkin County —Attlie Court House, Ilarben’s Store,
I. B. Harben, P. M.
Xew Bridge; Robert Lcgon, P.
Murray County —New Echota; William Tarvin, P.M
Spring Place; W. N. Bishop, P. M.
Paulding County —At the Court House.
Cp ion County —At the Court House-
AURARIA, LUMPKIN COUNT If, GEORGIA- JUNE 18, 1833
POBgaaT.
EVENING IN GREECE
The following pretty version of a Greek Mythological
Tale is from Tom Moore’s “ Evening in Greece”—a se
"cond volume of which has just appeared.
As Love, one summer eve, was straying,
Who should he see, at that loft hour,
But young Minerva, gravely playing
Her flute, within an olive bower,
I need not say, ’tis Love’s opinion
That, grave or merry, good or ill,
The sex bow all to his dominion.
As woman will be woman still.
Though seldom yet the boy hath given,
To learned dames his smiles or sighs,
So handsome Pallas look’d, that even
Love quite forgot the maid was wise.
Besides a youth ofhis discerning
Knew well, that by a shady rill,
At sunset hour—whate’er her learning— j
A woman will be woman still. j
Her flute he praised in terms ecstatic,
Wishing it dumb —nor car’d how soon —
For wisdom notes, howe’er chromatic,
To love seem always out of tune.
But long as he found breath to flatter,
The nymph found breath to shake and trill;
As weak or wise—it doth not matter —
Woman at heart, is woman still.
Love changed his plan, with warmth exclaiming,
“ flow’ brilliant was her lips’ soft dye 1”
And much that flute, the sly louge, blaming.
For twisting lips so sweet awry
The nymph look’d down—behold her features,
Reflected in the passing rill,
And started, shriek'd—lor, ah, ye creatures.’
Ev’n when divine, you’re women still.
Quick from the lips it made so odious,
That graceless flute the goddess took,
And while yet filled with breath melodious,
Flung it into the glassy brook;
Where, as its vocaliife was fleeting
Adown the current, faint and shrill,
At distance long ’twas heard repeating,
“ Woman, alas, vain woman still!“
THE PRINTER’S HOUR OF FEACE.
Know ye the printers hour of peace ?
Know ye an hour more fraught with joy,
Than ever felt the maid of G recce,
3Vlien kis ed by Venus’ am’rous boy?
’Tis not when round bis mazy rase,
His nimble fingers kiss the types,
Nor is it when with lengthened face,
The sturdy devil’s tail he gripes.
Tis not when news of dreadful note,
His columns all with minion fill,
’Tis not when brother printers quote,
The effusion of his stuinp-worn quill.
’Tis not when all his work is done,
Tired and fatigued as any dog,
And heedless of the coming dun,
Grows merry o’er a glass of grog.
’Tis not when in Miss Fancy’s glass,
Long advertisements meet his eye,
And seem to whisper as they pass,
“ We’ll grace your columns by und bye.”
Nor is it when with numerous names,
His lengthened roll of velum swells,
As if ’twere touched by conj’ror’s wand,
Or grew on Paries’magic spells.
No—reader no —the Printer s hour,
His hour of really sweet repose,
Is not when by some magic power,
Ilis list of patrons daily grows.
But oh! ’tis when the weather’s clear,
Or clad in :ain, or hail or vapour,
| He hears in accents soft and dear —
‘‘l’ve come to ray you for your Paper.
From the Mew Monthly Magazine for March.
LIFE IN DEATH.
“3Vho shall deny the mighty secrets hid
In Time and Nature ?”
I>ut can you not learn where he sups 1 asked
the dying man, for at least the twentieth time ;
while the servants again repeated the same mo
notonous answer —“ Lord, Sir, wc never know
where our young master goes.
“Place a time-piece by the bedside, and leave
me.” None was at hand ; when one of the as
sembled group exclaimed—“ Fetch that in Mr.
Francis’s room.”
It was a small French clock, of exquisite
workmanship, and a golden Cupid swung to and
fro—fitting emblem lor the light and vain hours
of its youthful proprietor, but a strange mocke
ry beside a death-bed ! Yet the patient watch
ed it with a strange expression of satisfaction,
mingled too, with anxiety, as the glittering hands
pursued their appointed round. As the minutes
passed on, an ejaculation of dismay burst from
Mr. Saville’s lips; he strove to raise his left hand
with a gesture of impatience ; he found it pow
erless too ; the palsy, which had smitten his
right side, had now attacked—the left. “A
thousand curses upon my evil destiny—l am
lost!”
At this moment the time-piece struck four,
and began to play one of the popular airs of the
day; while the cord on which the Cupid was
balanced moved, modulated by the fairy-like
music. “He comes!” almost shrieked the pal
sied wretch, making a vain effort to rise on his
pillow. As if the loss of every other sense had
quickened that of hearing seven-fold, he heard
♦he distant tramp of horses, and the ring of
-heels, on the hard and frosty road. The car
i'l . B *ottped ; a young man, wrapped in furs,
sprang out, incited the door with his own key,
and ran up the staiE? gaily singing
“They may rail at this rnrti,; from the it,
I have found it a world full of suusiJne Mid bliss,
And till I can find out some happier pla.iet.
More social and bright, I’ll content me with this.
“ Good God, sir, don't sing, your father is dy
jn g!” exclaimed the servant who ran to meet
him. The youth was silenced in a moment;
and, pale and breathless, sprang towards the
1 chamber. The dying man had no longer pow
er to move a limb- the hand which his son toon
l was useless as that of the newborn infant; yet
all the anxiety ami eagerness of life was in hts
i features-
It coiu cB, tli c Herald of a Golden VV or I <l.
“I have much to Say, Francis ; seo that we
are alone.”
“I hope my master doos not call this dying
like a Christian,” muttered the housekeeper, as
she withdrew. “I hope Mr. Francis will make
him send for a priest or at least a doctor. Peo
ple have no right to go out of the world in any
! such heathen manner.”
The door slammed heavily, and father and son
were left alone.
“Reach me that casket,” said Mr. Saville,
pointing to a curiously carved Indian box ofebo
, ny. Francis obeyed the command, and resuin
; ed his kneeling position by the bed.
| “By the third hand of that many-armed im
j age of Yishunis a spring, press it forcibly.”
| The youth obeyed and the lid flew up; within
: was a veiy small glass phial containing a liquid
j of delicate rose color.—The white and distorted
I countenance of the sufferer lighted up with a
I wild unnatural joy.
“ Oh youth, glad beautiful youth, art thou
mine again, shall I once more rejoice in the
smile of women, in the light of the red wine cup
shall I delight in the dance and in the sound of
music ?” “ For heaven’s sake compose your
self,’ said his son, who thought that his parent
was seized with sudden insanity.—“ln truth I
am mad to waste breath so precious ?—Listen
tome, boy! A whole existence is in that little
battle, from my earliest youth I have ever felt a
nameless horror of death, death more loathe
some than terrible : you have seen me engross
ed by lonely and mysterious studies, you know
not that they were devoted to perpetual strug
gle with the mighty conquerer—and I have suc
ceeded—That phial contains a liquid which
rubhe’d over my body, when the breath has left
it seemingly forever, will stop the progress of
corruption, and restore all its piistine gloom
and energy. Yes, Francis, I shall rise up be
fore you like a brother. My glorious secret!
how could I ever deem life wasted in the search?
—Sometimes when I have heard the distant
chimes tell the hour of midnight, the hour of
others’ revelry or rest, I have asked, is not the
present too mighty a sacrifice to the future ; had
I not better enjoy the pleasures within mv grasp?
but one engrossing hope led me on; it is now
fulfilled. I return to this world with the knowl
edge of experience and (he freshness of youth ;
I will not again give myself up to feverish stu
dies and external experiments. I have wealth
unbounded, we will spend it together, earth
holds no luxury which it shall deny us.”
The dying man paused, for he observed that
his son was not attending to bis words, but star
! ed, as if ids gaze was spell-oouna on ttie phial
which he held.
“ Francis,” gasped his father.
There is very little,” muttered the son, still
j eyeing the crimson fluid.
* The dews rose in large cold drops on Saville’s
i forehead —with a last effort he raised his head,
and looked in the face of his child—there was
no hope there ; cold, fixed, and cruel, the gen
tleness of youth seem suddenly, to have passed
away, and left the stem features rigid as stone;
his words died gurgling in the throat, his head
sunk back on the pillow, in the last agony of
disappointment, despair and death. A wild howl
filled the chamber, and Francis started in terror
from his knee ; it was only the little black ter
rier which had been his father’s favourite. Has
tily he concealed the casket, for he heard the
hurrying steps of the domestics, and rushing
past them, sought his own room, and locked the
door. All were struck by his altered and ghast
ly looks.
“ Poor child,” said the housekeeper, “ I do
not wonder he takes his father’s death to heart,
for the old man doated on the very ground he
trod upon. Now the holy saints have mercy
upon us,” exclaimed she, making the sign of
the cross, as she caught sight ofthe horrible and
distorted face of the deceased.
Francis passed the following days in the al
ternate stupor and excitement of one to whom
crime is new, and who is nevertheless resolved
on its commission. On the evening of the
fourth he heard a noise in the room where the
corpse lay, and again the dog began his'long
and doleful howl. He entered the appartment
and the two first men he saw were strangers,
dressed in black, with faces of'solemnitv ; they
wore the undertakers; while a third in a canvass
apron, and square paper cap,beginning to screw
down the coffin, and while so doing was care
lessly telling them how a grocer’s shop, his next
door neighbor’s had been entered during the
night, and the till robbed.
“ You will leave the coffin unscrewed until
to-morrow,” said the heir. The man bowed,
asked the usual English question, which suits
all occasions, of “something to drink, sir ?” and
then left young Saville to his meditations. —
Strange images of death and pleasure mingled
together ; now it was a glorious banquet, ndw
the gloomy silence of a church yard; now bright
and beautiful faces seemed to fill the air, then
by a sudden transition thy became the cadaver
ous relics of a charnel house. Some clock in
the neighborhood struck the hour, it was too
faint for Francis to hear it distinctly but it roused
him ; he turned towards the little time piece,
there the golden cupid sat motionless, the hands
stood still, it had not been wound up ; the deep
silence around told how late it was; the fire was
burning dead—the candles w ere dark in their
large unsnuffed wicks, and strange shadows, gi
gantic in their pioportions, flitted round the
room. .
“ Fool that I am to be haunted by a vain pnan
tasy. My father studied overmuch—his last
i words might be but the insane raving of a mind
overwrought. I will know the truth.”
Again his youthful features hardened with the
gladiatorial expression of one grown old in crime
and cruelty. Forth he went, and returned with
the Indian casket ; he drew a table towards the
coffin, placed two candles upon it, and raised
the lid ; he started, someone touched him ; it
was only the little black terrier licking his hand
and gazing up in his face with a look almost hu
man in its affectionate earnestness. Francis
put back the shroud, and then turned hastily
away, sick and faint at the ghastly sight. The
| work of corruption had begun, and the yellow
l and livid streaks awoke even more disgust than
i horror.—But an evil purpose is ever strong; lie
carefully opened the phial, and with a steady
hand, let one drop fall on the eye of the corpse.
He closed the bottle, replaced it in the casket,
and then, but not till then, looked for its effect.
The eye, large, melancholy, and of that deep
violet blue, which only belongs to earthly child
hood, as if it were too pure and too heavenly
for duration on earth, had opened, and full of
life and beauty, was gazing tenderly upon him.
A delicious perfume filled the air, ah, the old
man was right. Others had sought the secret
of life in the grave and the charnel house ; he
had sought it amid the warm and genial influ
ences of nature ; he had watched the invigorat
ing sap, bringing back freshness to the forest
tree; he had marked the subtle spring awaken-!
ing the dead root and flower into bloom—the !
essence of a thousand existences was in that
fragile crystal. The eye now turned anxiously
towards the casket, then, with a mute eloquence
towards the son ; it gazed upon him so piteous
ly, he saw himself nirrored in the large clear
pupil; it seemed to implore, to persuade, and at
last, the long soft lash glistened, and tears, warm
bright tears, rolled down the lived cheek. Fran
cis sat and watched, with a cruel satisfaction ;
a terrible expression of rage kindled the eye,
like fire, then it dilated with horror, and then
glared terribly with despair. Francis shrank |
from the fixed and stony gaze—but his very ter- j
ror was selfish.
It must not witness against me,” rushed into [
his mind. He seized a fold of the grave clothes I
crushed the eye in the socket and closed the lid
of the coffin.—A yell of agony rose upon the si- j
lent night. Francis was about to smite the
howling dog, when he saw that it lay dead at his
feet. He hurried with his precious casket from
the chamber, whicli he never entered again.
*******
Years have passed away, and the once gay
and handsome Francis Saville is a gray and de
crepid old man, with a constitution broken down
ly excess.—But the shrewd man has been care
ful in his calculations ; he knew how selfish ear
ly indulgence and worldly knowledge had made
himself, and he had resolved that so his chrildren
should not be corrupted : he had two, a boy and
a girl, who had been brought up in the strictest
ignorance and seclusion, and in the severest
practices of the Catholic faith. He well knew
that fear is a stronger bond than love, and his
children trembled in the presence of their father,
whom their mother’s latest words had yet en
joined them to cherish.—Still the feeling of du
tiful affection is strong in the youthful heart,
though Mr. Saville resolved not to tempt it, by
one hint of his precious secret.
“ I cannot bear to look in the glass,” exclaim
ed Mr. Saville, as he turned away fro his own
image in a large mirror opposite ; “ xvhy should
I bear about this weight of years, and deformity?
My plan is all matured, and never will its exe
cution be certain as now. Walter must soon
lose his present insecure and devout simplicity,
and on them only can I rely. Yes this very
night will I fling off the slough of years, and
awake to youth, warm glad, and buoyantyoutli.”
Mr. Saville now’ ring the bell for his attend
ants to assist him to bed.
When comfortably settled, his children came
as usual to wish him good night, and kneel for
his blessing: he received them with the most
touching tenderness. “I feel,” said he, “unusu
ally’ ill to night. I w’ould fain, Edith, speak with
your brother alone.”
Edith kissed her father’s hand and withdrew.
“ You were at confession to day when 1 sent
for you,’ continued the invalid, addressing the
youth, who leant anxiously by his pillar. “ Ah,
my beloved child, what a blessed thing it is to
bo early trained to the paths of salvation. Alas!
at your age 1 was neglected and ignorant, but
for that many things which press heavily on my
conscience had, I trust, never beetr. It was
not till aflcsmy marriage with that beloved saint,
your mother, that my conscience was awakened.
I made a pilgrimage to Rome, and received
born the hands of our holy’father the Pope, a
precious oil, distilled from the wood of the cross,
which rubbed over my body as soon as the
breath of life be departed, will purify my mortal
remains from sin, and the faith in which I die,
will save my soul from purgatory. May I rely
upon the dutiful obedience of my child to the
last wishes of his parent ?
“O, my father!” sobbed the youth.
“ Extinguish the lights, for its not fitting that
humanity.should watch the mysteries of faith;
and, by your own hope of salvation, annoint the
body the moment life is fled. It is contained
in this casket,” pointing to the little ebony box;
“and you undo the spring. Leave me row my
child, I have need of rest and meditation.”
The youth obeyed when he was about to close
the door, he beard the voice of Mr. Saville “Re
member Walter ; my blessing or my curse will
follow you through life, according as you obey
my last words. My blessing or my curse I”
The moment he left the room, Mr. Saville
unfastened the casket, and from another drawer
took a bottle of laudanum : he poured the con-
t tents into the negus on hi” table, and drank the
j draught I—The midnight was scarce passed
j when the nurse, surprised at the unwonted qui
!et of her usually querulous and impetuous pa
tient, approached and undrew the curtains; her
master was dead !—the house was immediately
alarmed.— W alter and his sister were still sit
ting up in t;ie small oratory w hicli had been their
mother’s, und both hastened to the chamber ot
death. Ignorance has its blessing; what a
world of corruption and distrust would have en
tered those youthful hearts, could they have
known the worthlessness of the parent they
mourned with such innocent and enuearing sor
row.
Walter was the first to check his tears, “I
have, as you know Edith, a sacred duty to per
form, leave nie for a while alone, and ve will
afterwards spend the night in prayer lor cur r
ther’s soul.”
The girl left the room, and her brother pro
ceeded with Iris task. He opened the casket,
and took out the phial; the candles were then
extinguished, and whilst telling the beads of his
rosary, he approached the bed. I benight was
dark, and the shrill wind moaned like a human
being in some great agony, but the pious son
felt no horror as he raised the body in his arma
to perform his holy office. An exquisite ordour
exhaled from the oil, which he began to ru.
lightly and carefully over the head. Suddenly
he started, the phial fell from his baud and was
dashed to atoms on the floor.
“His face is warm—l feel his breath I Loitli.
dear Edith! come here. The nurse was wrong;
my father lives I”
‘His sister ran from the adjacent room where
she had been kneeling before an image ofthe
Madona in earnest supplication, with a small ta
per in her hand ; both stood motionless fiom
terror as the light fell on the corpse. There
were the contracted and emaciated hands laid
! still and rigid on the counterpane ; the threat
! streohed and bare, vas meagre and withered ;
I but the head was that of a handsome youth, fulL
!of freshness and life. The rich chesnut curls
’ hung in golden waves on the white forehead, tr
bright color was on the cheek, and the ftesh red
lips were like those of a child, the large hazel
eyes were open, and looked from one to the oth
er, but the expression was that of a fiend ; rage,
hate, and despair mingling tagethei, like the
horrible beauty given to the head ot .Medusa.
The children tied from the room, only however
to return with the priest, who deemed that sud
den sorrow had unsettled their reason. His
own eyes convinced him of the truth ; there v. as
the living head on trie dead body!
The beautiful face became convulsed with
passion froth stood upon the lips and the small
white teeth were gnashed in impotent rage.
This is, surely, some evil spirit,” and the
trembling priest proceeded with the form of ex
orcism but in vain.
3Valter then, with a faltering voice, narrated
his last intenviev with his father.
“The sinner, said the old chaplain, “is taken
in his own snare. This is assuredly the judg
ment of God.”
All night did the three pray beside that fearful
bed. At length the morning light of a glad day
in June fell on the head. It now looked pale
and exhausted, and the lips were wan. Ever
and anon, it was distorted by sudden spasms—
youth and health were maintaining a terrible
struggle with hunger and pain. The weather was
sultry-, and the body showed livid spots of decom
position,the beautiful head was still alive but the
damps stood on the forehead, and the cheeks
were sunken. ’lliree cays and three nights did
that brother and sister maintain their ghastly
watch. The head was evidently dying. Twice the
eyes opened with a wild and strong glare;
the third time they closed forever. Pale,
beautiful, but convulsed, the youthful head and
the aged body, the one but just cold, tho other
far gone in corruption —were laid in the coffin
together!
NATIONAL IDEAS OF PARADISE.
“For blissful Paradise
Os God, the garden was.”
The T.aplander believes a Paradise to be sit
uated in the centre of the snows of Sweden l
ThelM uscogulgees imagine it among the Islands
ofthe vast ‘Pacific. The Mexicans believed
that th -se who died of wounds or were drowned,
went to a cool and delightful place, there to en
joy all manner of pleasure; those who died m
battle ot in captivity, were wafted to the palace
ofthe sun, and lead a life of endless delight.—
After an abode of lour years in this splendid
situat'.m. the animated clouds, and birds ol
beautiful feather, and ol sweet song, having at
the sane time liberty to ascend to heaven, or
descend to earth, to suck sweet flowers and war
ble enchanting songs.
The Tonquinese imagine the forests and
mountains to bo peopled with a peculiar kind of
“enii, w ho exercise an influence over the aitairs
of mankind, and In their ideas relative lon state
l of future happiness, (1 < y regard a delightful ch
-1 maw, and an atmosphere sur-cl.argod w ,th odors
! with a throne profusely covered with garlands
of flowers, as the summit of celestial felicity.
Among tho Arabs,a fine country, with abundance
of shade, forms a principle part of their promised
bliss. .
There is a tribe of America, who bel.ci e tl 1 1
the souls of good men arc conveyed to n pleasant
valley, abounding in gnovtis and other deli, ions
j f ru itg. The heaven ofthe Celts was called 1 lath
innis,“the island of the good and the binve;” their
hell, Infnrin, “the Island of cold climate,” while
tho Druids, as we arc informed by Amtr.innns
Marecllmn*. beliovc.l that the rents of good nn.i
NO. 11.
