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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.