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every one must, that whatever he is, he is
io earnest —they acknowledge him to be a
sincere believer in Jesus of Nazareth.
Methodist Missionaries —A gentleman just
arrived in this city Irom Demarara furnishes
us with the following information relative
to the late insurrection in that island. T.here
are but two Methodist Missionaries on that
station, neither of whom was ever engaged,
or suspected of being engaged, either di
rectly or indirectly in the insurrection, nor
was any member of that Society charged
with being privy to it, save only two ne
groes, the property of the Governor of the
island They were both tried and acquitted.
The Missionary Mr. Smith who has lately
been pardoned by George IV. was sent .out
to the West Indies by the London Mission
ary Society, and not by the Methodist. We
are further assured that Mr. Smith who was
tried and convicted by a military court mar
tial was considered so innocent ot the charge
that the governor and other persons ot re
spectability wrote the British government
on his behalf; and it is believed that it is
owing te their representation* that the roy-,
al prerogative wa9 exercised in his behalf ■
We have particular satisfaction in being able .
to add on the same respectable authority, j
that the general standing ot the Methodist
and other Missionaries is so far from having
been effected by recent events that they
are now more courted and sought alter
than at any former period.— Phil. D. Press, j
Attention to Religion in Xorth Carolina.
From a letter dated Washington, N. C. 10th
March, 1824, received in this city, we take the
following interesting account:
“ This is not, my friend, the place it once
was. Such a change I never witnessed in
aov town before; surely it i9 sufficient to
glad Jen the hearts of those who may have
“been the honoured instruments of effecting i
it- . . j
I had constantly since my arrival in this
place been striving to procure some of my
Presbyterian clerical friends hem, and at
length succeeded. Last August we organiz
ed a Church, of which the unworthy writer
was ordained an elder, and the Lord has
been pleased to smile on us in an uncommon
degree. Mr. Tusten, whom you will re
member, has been with me about three
months, and his labours of love have been
singularly Meerf. Many have joined us—
others rejoicing in hope, prepared to do so,
and many others under deep conviction for
their sms.
We are about to erect a church, toward*
which we have some liberal contributions.
Ch. Gaz.
From the Christian Gazelle.
‘We are personally acquainted with the writer of
tl.e following, and have no doubt of its authen
ticity.—El*.
Opposition’ to Revivals of Religion.
Somewhat less than two year* since, a
revival of religion prevailed in T. in (he
state of Maine. In the progress of the revi
val the attention of the wife of a man whom
1 shall from motives of delicacy denomin
ate Mr. \V. wa arrested to her eternal
Concern**. llndfr The inflarncc rW t mr.'lC*
tion, she like others in similar circumstan
ces was disposed to avail herself of oppor
tunities that presented for receiving instruc
tion, and for obtaining a proper answer to
the momentous inquiry, “ What shall I do
to be saved ?” She attended a female pray
er meeting, among other religions exercis
es. Strange as it would doubtless seem to
one ignorant of the human heart, but alas !
a fact too common, her husband seemed un
willing that the wife of his bosom should
go to Heave#. On an occasion when hi
husinpss called him to a town at a little
distance from T. he “strictly charged”
hi* wife not to attend the female prayer
meeting* any more. To use his own lan
guage, “you may set your heart at rest
fur vou shall go no more.” He had pro
ceeded but a little way from home, when
he recollected that Mrs. W. had in her
possession a Bible and Psalm book, from
which she might derive comfort, although
debarred from the privileges of the prayer
meeting. He returned, locked up those
books, took the key with him and again de
parted. Little diJ he think at that moment
that hi* day of grace was well nigh termin
ated. In going to the place alluded, to, he
was to cross the water. He transacted hi*
business and wa9 returning in a boat with
another man who several times had occa
sion to remind Mr. W. that if he was not
more careful he would overset the boaL
Mr. W. did appear to be unsually careless
in his movements ; what was the cause of
it I cannot decide,but his companion’s words
were soon verified, for the boat was upset
and Mr. W. was drowned; his companion
succeeded in clinging to the boat till he was
taken up and saved.
From the Boston Telegraph.
FILIAL AFFECTION.
The long reign of winter was past, and a
milder sun had revisited the earth. The j
scene was inviting, and i quit, for an hour,
fhc bustle of a town, to admire the beauti
ful works of God as unfolded in the volume
of nature. Having escaped from the hum :
of business in which I was accustomed to
act, I a*cended a little eminence, that I
might gain a fairer view of the scenery
around. The earth was clothed with beau
ty, the air was filled with the musick of hap
py being*, and the ocean bore upon its bo
som the treasure* of successful commerce.
Ail tilings seemad to speak the beneficence
of a supreme Being, and I wondered, if,
with such innumerable proofs of his good
ness above, around, beneath and within
thpm, any of his children could knowingly
violate Ins commands.
At this moment my attention was arrest
ed by observing two men at a distance—the
one apparently lifeless upon ibe ground, &
the other endeavouring in vain to convey
him to a dwelling not far remote. He rai.
ed the powerless body from the earth—
i'removed it a few paces towards the dwell
i ing—but could proceed no farther. He
placed it again upon the ground, and seated
! him*elf by its side, as if determined not to
1 forake it. With mingled emotions ofsym
’ pathy end curiosity, I hastened to the spot.
! Judge what was my surprise, and pity, and
’ i disgust, when I found a man in the vigour
I of life, waylaid and spoiled by that treach
* erons assassin, Intemperance! —aud a mere
youth at his side, attempting in vain to
“ screen his infamy from the eye of the world!
1 I asked the lad, for his countenance beam
ed with intelligence, what motives induced
him to manifest such kindness to one who
bad well nigh forfeited his claim to our
compassion. “ Alas,” said he “it is my
father!” and the tears rolled down his
cheek. I now perceived I had expressed
myself incautiously, and endeavoured to
heal the wound which I seemed to have in
flicted. “ l know,” said the youth, “he
has forfeited his claim to the compassion of
others, but not to mine. He ha* ruined his
reputation, his family, and I fear, his never
dying soul—but how can I sunder the strong
I ties of nature ? How can I forget the author
of my being and the protector of my infant
1 years ?” I commended the warmth of his af
■ section, but sincerely admired that it should
continue unabated, when the object on
! which it rested was become so wofnlly
! changed. “ Sir,” said the youth, as if dis
:cernmg the tenor of my thoughts, “have
vou a father ?” I replied that I had. “ For
give me, If 1 make the supposition that in
the solemn providence of God, you were
called to look upon his lifeless clay ! Sup
pose even that his death wns hastened by
.crime! would you on that account refuse
him the last acts of kindness?” I answered
that every feeling of my nature would re
j volt at the thought of it. “ Then,” said be,
you are prepared to appreciate the motive*
which actuate me. / look upon my father
as dead! True he breathes, and the blood
I circulates in his veins—but is this all that
constitutes human life ? Where is the eye
that once beamed so affectionately upon
me ?It is closed. Where are the strength
and activity of manhood?—they are fled.—
Address him, he hears not, answers not.—
Handle him—he perceives it not. But for
me, the vulture might feast on his mangled
limbs, and the swine trample on the image
of God.” And yet, I replied, the death of
which you speak is not like the dissolution
of soul and body—final and irrevocable. —
He will soon revive. “ Alas !” exclaimed
the youth, “ had you once seen him return
ing into life, covered with the horrors of
his own corruption—had you heard his mid
night groans, and witnessed the gnawing* of
remorse within him —had you seen him
struggle to reform, and at last seizing the
oblivious cup, as the only refuge from de
spair, you would not, you could not have
mentioned this frightful reanimation as an
alleviation of his condition. It is this very
state from which lie shrinks as an insupport
able burden. No, it is nothing to be quiet
ly laid in the grave with the common guilt
of men, compared with the endless succes
sion of assassinations which he inflicts upon
h;. *..,u unity ami itie Anal caiastropne to
which they inevitably lead. He dies a thou
sand deaths, and each prepares him for a
darker and 9till darker abode in the world
of perdition. Oh my father, my father!”
The scene had now become painful to
my feelings, and I wished to retire. But
how could I forsake this affectionate youth,
while discharging with such emotion the
duties of filial piety ? I offered him my as
sistance, and we -conveyed the miserable
victim of intemperance to his dwelling
And here the fountains of my compassion |
were opened anew. An interesting group j
of children and a disconsolate wife mourned ,
over their sorrows with all the emphasis ofj
grief, and refused to be comforted. I wish- j
ed to administer the consolations afforded;
by the gopel tothose who innocently suffer- 1
ed—but my sympathies were overpowered
and I withdrew, overwhelmed with a sense
of the cruelty, the guilt, the deadly and ir
reparable mischief of intemperance.
Wanderer.
, From the Act c York Observer.
DEATH BED OF AN IMPENITENT
SINNER.
Mf.ssrs. Editors, —Should you deem the fol
lowing narrative of a transaction which occurred
under my own observation, worthy of a place in
your paper, you may perhaps subserve the cause
of truth and piety by giving it an insertion. J. F.
About six or seven year* ago, I was cal
led to visit a man whose sitnation indicated
his dissolution to be near. His habitation
lay within the covert of a forest, along the
declivity of a range of mountain land that
separates this parish from the one adjoining.
Pursuing my way through this lonely re
treat, his dwelling for the first time pre
sented itself to my view. It was a small
log hut, bearing every mark of poverty aod
wretchedoess. Around it, on all side 9, si
lence and solitude seemed to hold undisturb
ed dominion, and no impress of the foot of
j friendship marked the path which conduct
ed me to the door. 1 knocked, aod gained
admittance. The first object that present
ed itelf to my view,was a gray haired mao,
of six feet stature; erect, though pressed
beneath the weight of threescore years and
ten, but pale and emaciatetJ®p a skeleton.
Every feature was distorted with pain. His
eye, though once of distinguished lustre,
was now sunk deep in its socket, and almost
consumed by the fires that seemed to burn
within ; yet ever and anon it flashed with
an expression of horronr sufficient to appal
, the stoutest heart. Except some intervals
-of rest upon his ‘couch, he was in constant
i motion, walking to and fro across his dwel
’ ling. F.very breath was a groan, aod his
emaciated visage apparently gathered fresh
■ blackness at every faltering step.
i His wife had long been slumbering in the
grave ; and no human being was near to aid
’ or befriend him, except an intoxicated ne
■ | gress with two sick children, in one part of
-’ the room, and another lying dead in the
. corner by tie side of the fire.
thought, is i house of wo ! and by the time
I that all thee objects had passed successive
, ly in revieabefore me, greeting at once my
eye and myear with such sound* and sights
of sorrow, ay soul was full. The moment
I he began tospeak, I found I was conversing
. I with a man >f more than ordinary under
standing—wih one who had read much and
j reflected moe, and whose strength of mind
, was not at al impaired by his years. Up-
I on asking, a my entrance, “ How do yon
I do?” “ Oh, niserably, miserably !” he ex-
I claimed, in atone that would have gone to
the hardest heart. “What is your dis
ease ?” “ The stone in its utmost agonies of
, torture.” “ How long has this been your
situation?” “At intervals for years; but
this cjtremity of suffering tor a tew
months” “ Why not continue on your
bed?” “ My misery is then so great, I can
not betr it except at short interval*. Oh,
such a sufferer never lived before ! The
pain of my body seems entirely insupporta
ble, amiyet the anguish of my soul i* great
er still. lam forsaken by God and man, by
all on eirth and all in heaven. Yes! in
this hour of my calamity, when leaving
time for eternity, I have not a friend on
earth that cares for me, or that will come
near to help me. My own kindred stand
afar off. Even my own children have for
saken me; they have left me to die alone.
I have none near me but this poor black,
and 9he has two children sick by her side,
and another dead before her, and there is
no one near to bury the dead, or to nurse
the living.”—Well, do you not then see
your need in t iis day of your trouble, ol
the consolaliois of religion ?” “ Yes, I have
need enough, it is true ; but there is no re
ligion, no hope for me.”—“ But you ought
not to draw ra*b or hasty conclusions against
yourself, nor set bounds to the mercy of
God.”—“ Ah, full well 1 know that mercy
has gone for ever from my soul. I have had
a day of hope, but my day is gone. God gave
me understanding and knowledge above
many of my fellows, but I have abused
both. He gave me also in my youthful
days many solemn calls and warnings, but
1 despised them all, aud now God des
pises me. I have spent my life in sin, and
like a fool have sold my soul for empty
pleasures. Mv bottle, and the love of evil
companions, these have beeQ my bane !”
—“ But can you feel no relentings of heart
no repentance for sin, no reliance on the
Lord Jesus for forgiveness?”—“No; my
heart is hard as a stone. I cannot repent.
I know indeed that I have been a great sin
ner, yet I teelno true repentance, no ha
tred to sin. although 1 should Le very glad
to escape the misery which my sins de
serve.”—“ Bui can you not pray to God
for mercy?”—“No, I have no hpart to
pray ; nor can I, nor dare I raise my heart
to God at all, for heaven is barred against
my guilty petitions. Yet I am in misery
excruciating, and know not what to do. I
would pray for death, but 1 am certain that
the moment I die, my soul will bp misera
ble. My cup of bitterness is full. The
pains of mv body rnmppl ms> to loots to ilie
grave for relief, but the thought of the
misery which awaits my soul drives me back
again to lime. What to do or which way
to turn, I know not. I once tried to disbe
lieve, but that is now impossible. 1 would
pray for annihilation, but I know that it
would be in vain. lam lost for ever, but
I hope that others may take warning from
ray example.”—“ Shall I not pray for you ?”
—“You may ; but it will do no good ; my
day of grace is gone! my soul is lost for
eVer!”
Such was the state of miod in which this
; unhappy man continued for a few days, and
’ then died, so far as man could see, the 1
! same. Careless sinner ! this miserable !
| man hoped that he might prove a warning!
to yon, and will you turn a deaf ear to his
i cry? Will you refuse to listen to this voice
from the grave ?
COWPER’S CORRESPONDENCE.
The fcllowing extracts from this poet’s correspon
dence, recently published, will show his opin
ion of Drs. Johnson and Watts:
“ I have no objection in the world to your
conveying a copy of my work to Dr. John
son; though I well know that one of his
pointed sarcasms, if he should happen tobp
di*pleased, would soon find its way into all
companies, and spoil the sale. He write*,
indepd, like a man that thinks a great deal,
and that sometimes thinks religiously; but
report informs me that he has been sevpre
enough in his animadversions upon Dr.
Watts, who was nevertheless, if I am in any
degree a judge of verse, a man of true po- j
etical ability ; careless, indeed, for the most
part, and inattentive too often to those
niceties which constitute elegance of ex
pression, but frequently sublime in his con
ceptions, and masterly in his execution.
Pope, I have heard, had placed him once
in the Dunciad; and being advised to read
before he judged him, was convinced that
he deserved other treatment, and thrust
somebody’s block-bead into the gap, whose
name consisting of a monosyllable happen
ed to fit it. Whatever faults, however, I
may be charged with as a poet, I cannot ac
cuse myself of negligence. I never suffer
a line to pass till I have made it as good as
I can ; and though my doctrines may offend
this king of criticks, he wil/ not, 1 flatter
myself, be disgusted by slovenly inaccura
cy, either in the numbers, rhymes, or lan
guage. Let the rest take its chance. It is
l possible he may be pleased; and if he should,
i I shall have engaged on my side, one of the
best trumpeters in the kingdom. Let him
only speak as favourably of me as he has
i done ofSir Richard Blackmore (who though
i he shines in hi* poem of Creation, has writ
ten more absurdities in verse than any wri
: ter of oor country,) and my success will be
i secured.”
In a subsequent letter to the same per
r son he says:
“1 am glad to be undeceived respecting
had
do the sunpfici ot v ohnson a xriTiriwn on •
Watts.; Nothing can be more judicious, or ,
more charucteristirk ot a distinguishing ,
laste, than his observations upon that writer. I
though I think him a little mistaken in hi* ‘
notion that divine subjects have never been |
poetically treated with success. A little (
more Christian knowledge and experience, ,
would perhaps enable him to discover ex
cellent poetry upon spiritual themes, in the *
aforesaid little doctor. I perfectly acqui- ;
et.ee in the propriety of sending Johnson a
copy of my productions; anil I think it would j,
he well to send it in our joint names, ac- ;
coinpanied with a handsome card, such an i
one as you will know how to fabricate, and
-as may pre-dispose him to a favoura
ble perusal of the hook, by coaxing him into
a good temper; for he is a great bear, with
all his learning and penetration.'’
<tfrt —H—We.*——*——^**
MOUNT ZION, MONDAY, APRIL 19, 1024.
The Rev. John S. Wilson has appointed a meet
ing to be held at Newhope, in Madison county, j
to commence on Thursday the Clh of May, and ;
to continue until the Sabbath following. He does ;
not expect a general meeting of the different de
nominations, but earnestly solicits the attention of
a9 many of his Presbyterian friends as can make
it convenient to be with him at that time. The
Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper will be adminis
tered.
Augusta Auxiliary Bible Society. —The amount
of money remitted to the American Bible Society,
since the formation of this institution, a period of
six years, is $1570 50—and it has distributed, gra
tuitously or by sale, 3110 Bibles and New Testa
ments. During the last year the demand for the .
Scriptures considerably increased, and the funds
in the hands of the Board not being adequate to
meet it, the American Bible Society promptly
made a donation of 300 Bibles and Testaments,
for which the most grateful acknowledgements
are expressed by the Managers. The amount of
money received from agents and others, during
the past year for Bibles and Testaments sold by
them,is $379 44—and there is a balance remain
ing in the Treasury of 231 14.
The following gentlemen are Agents of this So
ciety for the distribution of the Holy Scriptures in
their respective vicinities.
Rev. Francis Cummins, D. D. Greene co. Ga.
Rev. Samuel K. Hodges, Putnam co. Ga.
Rev. Richard B. Cater, Willington, S. C.
Rev. Robert Allen, Richmond co. Ga.
Rev. B. Blanton, Oglethorpe co. Ga. ‘
Rev. Jesse Mercer, Powelton, Ga.
Rev. Henry Reid, Abbeville, S. C. i
Rev. W. H. Barr, Abbeville, S. C. |
Rev. Joseph Travis, Washington, Ga. f
Rev. John S. Wilson, Elbert co. Ga.
Rev. R. Chamberlain, Madison co. Ga. 1
Rev. Hosea Kemp, Jackson co. Ga. I
Rev. Robert Flournoy, Warren co. Ga. |
Mr. William Lumpkin, Oglethorpe co. Ga.
Mr. Oliver Danforth, Greenesborough,Ga.
Mr. Hugh Craft. Milledgeville, Ga.
Lr. W. Holt, Elberton, Ga. i
Dr. A. B. M’Whorler, Edgefield, S. C. ]
Mr. R. Flemming, Lincoln co. Ga.
Mr. William Jones, Lincoln co. Ga.
EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.
The following excellent remarks on a deeply in
teresting subject, are extracted from an oration 1
or sermon by the. Rev. Fdusard Irving , the cete - ‘
brated Scotch Preacher .- 1
“There is in every nature a preference of its !
own will, and a reluctance to surrender it to an- 1
other. It is not till after many struggles that a i
mother gains the mastery of her child, and not ,
till after much discipline that a youth gives will
ingly in to the tasks of his teacher. And to the
moral and decent customs of life we know that 1
many youths can never bring themselves to con- i
form at all, hut set them at open defiance or hide ,
in secrecy their violation of them. After twenty
years training to what is honourable and good, l ‘
never omitted for a day, and hardly for a single I
hour, with the constant terror of censures, such
is the urgency of nature, and her reluctance to
control, that a youth shall no sooner remove from
the neighbourhood of his early restraints, than he
will cast them at hi 9 feet and take the whole
scope of his self-willedness r and thus many run i
to ruin when they leave the home of their father,
and the eye of their freinds. Let us not be amaz
ed, therefore, that the statutes of the Lord, to
which there is no constant or sufficient training of
parents and of masters, and which take under
their control not only the form and fashion of life,
but the whole thoughts and intentions of the
heart, should fare the same, and have a fearful
struggle with nature’s independence.
Now by the same means of early discipline and
example by which we were brought to acquiesce
in the government of our parents, the mastery of
our teachers, and the authority of life’s many
forms and customs, we shall be most likely to ac
quiesce in the statutes of the Lord. Just as no
parent who wished his child to be a well-doing
| member of society, would for the first years ot
his life turn him adrift from counsel and correc
tion, but find for him masters to instruct, and
1 patterns to copy after; adding to all, the influ
: ence of hi* own parental authority and affection
| —even so, if you would have your child to flour
: ish in religious life, you must not sequester the
subject of religion from your table or your house
hold, nor keep him in the dark till he arrive at
the years of reflection ; but from the first dawn of
thought and effort of will, teach him with a win
ning voice, and with a gentle hand lead him into
the ways of God. The raw opinion that acer
: tain maturity of judgement must be tarried for
before entering into religious conference witb our
children, comes of that notion which pervades
the religious world, that religion rests upon the
concoction of certain questions in Theology, to
which mature years are necessary; whereas it
rests upon the authority of God, which a child 1
can comprehend so soon as it can the authority of
its father: the love of Christ, which a child can
comprehend so soon as it can the love of its mo
ther ; the assistance of the Spirit, which it can ‘
comprehend so soon as it is alive to the need of
instruction or of help from its parents.
Now we must confess it hath seldom fallen to
us to see religion taught in the family with that 1
diligence with which good manners, parental res- ,
pect and deference to custom are taught. The
right and wrong of things is not distinguished with I
reference to the divine command, but with refer
ence to the opinion of others and the ways of the
world. Excellence is not urged from the appro
bation of God, and the imitation of Christ and
the rewards of heaven ; but out of emulation of
rivals, and ambition of the worlds place*. Com
: panions are not sought according to their piety
■’ their virtue, and their general worth, but accord
ing tsJfeiSonk and (heir prospects in life. To
whiclfßlHP’ of means, pnrentsdo often add the
r*acii&l contradiction of religion; entertaining
worldly view* of most subjects, religious views
of almost none: and for six days in the week
banishing the face and form of religion from
the eye* of their household. What glorious op
portunities are these for the despight of Satan
to revel in. The mind impressible * wav wan
dering after knowledge of good and ill, unbound
by habit and roving in it* freedom, from within
solicited to evil ; in this, the spring-time of human
character, when ye the husbandmen of your chil
dren’s minds should be labouring the soil, and
spreading it out to the sun of righteousness, and
sowing it with the seeds of the everlasting word ;
ye are leaving it waste and undefended, for the
enemy to enter in and sow it with the tares of
wickedness, to take root aud flourish, and choke
any good seed which the ministers of grace may
chance aftervyards to scatter.”
“It is enough , sir, to worry the patienc of Job
himself."’ John Randolph.
We are not among those who advocate the long
sessions of Congress, or, in other words, (he long
speeches delivered in that body, on the ground
that they have a tendency to elicit information,
aud thus enlighten the pnblick mind. We have
strong doubts whether one in twenty is ever heard,
1 with any interest, except by the reporter, and we
j speak with much greater confidence when we say,
! that they are not read unless by the particular
friends of the speakers. There are certainly ex
ceptions to this remark, but in a general sense,we
are perfectly assured ol its correctness. Still we
are not disposed to coincide with the opinion of
others, that the business of the country can be
despatched in half the ttme ordinarily employed
by the National Legislature. In the discussion of
important measures it is certainly necessary to af
ford a suitable time for reflection ; for it cannot
be supposed that every nmn who finds his way in
to the Capitol, possesses that wisdom, intuitively,
which is requisite to form a correct and instant
judgement upon every great question proposed
for his consideration. The constant acces
sion of new members, who are in a great degrre
ignorant of the details of business, has also a ten
dency to retard its progress; and not a few of
these young politicians are solicitous that their
maiden speeches should be none of the shortest
lest their constituents might suspect that in their
case brevity implies a lack of sense.
We have no wish, however, to lecture wiser
heads than ours, or to take up the cudgels for or
against the protracted discussion of the present
Congress. We are not “in the secrets oftlie pri
son-house,” and know not what business of mo
mentous importance is yet to be settled before
an adjournment can take (.lace, except tl.e Tariff
Bill, which is in a feir way we trust of following
the Bankrupt Bill. We are disposed to differ,
how ever, with those who assert that the loaves
and Gshes of office are the principal inducements
to a protracted session at the present time. To he
sure eight dollars per day are worth earning, if
not earned too dearly; but we have made far too
low an estimate of the patience usually evinced
by mankind, if any pecuniary reward much short
of the President’s salary, can induce a majority of
Congress to continue at Washington in their offi
cial capacity until June, unless, indeed the “ ever
lasting Tariff” is disposed of, and some new “ loop
to hang speeches on” is introduced. Possibly a
few members whom much speaking cannot make
mad, and who can restore their exhausted facul
ties by a comfortable nap on their cushions, undis
turbed by the Speaker’s call, or the voice of some
Stentor at their elbows, may suffer their love of
money so far to predominate as to be willing to
sit out the spring. But with a large majority this
cannot be the rniiug passion, wliyn its indulgence
must be purchased by a punishment scarcely less
revolting than the discipline of the tread mil).
It was only very lately that the House got into
the real merits of the Tariff Bill, all the talk here
tofore having been confined to its particular pro
visons. When it came fairly on the carpet, what
does Mr. Barbour of Va. do but get up, (though
he had said a great deal on the subject before,)
and speak three hours against its passage. Mr.
Henry Clay, who is never to be out-winded, (and
who had said a great deal more than Mr. B.) then
undertook its defence, and he spoke on two suc
cessive days seven hours! These the Intelligen
cer calls their “ great speeches,” meaning, we
suppose, their long ones. Who followed Mr. Clay
we have not learned, but supposing that all who
have delivered their sentiments on the “ items.'
speak proportionnbly long on the “general meriu”
of the bill, then we say that eight dollars per day
is not a fair compensation for those who are com
pelled to listen ; and consequently some object
other than their daily stipend must induce the
hearing portion of the members, which we hope
yet makes the majority, to prolong the session.—
Is it patriotism—or what is it? The ides of March
have not yet come.
In clearing out a tomb lately in Boston, the re
mains of a British officer were found, who, it is
“opposed, was buried with his clothes on, but they
had all perished except his silk sash, which was
in perfect order, and the colours bright.
A mummy has been carried into France from
Egypt, which is supposed to be a Princess of the
race of the Pharaohs, who has been entombed for
tlnrty-seven centuries. An embalmed Cat was
found in the same box, which shows the person
to have been of high rank.
Indian Affairs. —Tl.e committee on Indian af
faiis, in the House of Representatives, have re
ported that it is inexpedient to repeal the law
, making an annual appropriation of SIO,OOO for
the civilization of the Indians. The report lies on
j the table, and there is little reason to doubt that
it will be accepted.
Mr. Crawford, we are gratified to learn (says
the Washington City Gazette of the Ist inst.) was
1 well enough to be at the Treasury Department
, yesterday.
j Mutiny. —The ship Napoleon, Capt. Hall, of
j Yarmouth, Mass, arrived at Madeira, from Savan
nah, on the 17th of January. On the 23d, she
failed from Madeira, for the Cape de Verds.
When off the western end of the Island, three of
the orew rose on the other part, who were below.
The captain was knocked down and thrown over
board. The mate, cook, and a Portuguese lad*
shared the fate pf their commander. There liouf