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has proved, were sharpers—and also the Lor
da i wercaaut.”
•• Aad you really have made up your m ..
to pay it i”
*• On, certainly, because there is no help lb
it.” ‘
“ I am a barrister —lam Mr. Sergeant \ ai.
ghan, and 1 will defend t.ie ease ior tae joj
landlord gratuitously.”
Tne otaer tendered him a thousand thank,
far his intended kindness, but expressed Ins ap
preaension tiiat all etibrts at defence would Lx
perfectly useless.
« We shall see,” said the Sergeant signifi
cantly, “we shall see. You and your tr-e.i.
the laudlord will cull on me t.iis evening a
eg it o’cioek, to arrange lor tae uerence m
morrow. ”
To-morrow came, and the case was duly
called in Cnnrt. Tie poor lukeej er, acting
0.1 the ad vice of Mr. Vaughan, but no: perce v
ing in w.iat wav he could be beuifned l>y it, <Je
fended the case. Every thing piocecdel 'so
favorably for t.ie prosecutioi for some time
taat taons i every person in Court deeply syin
pat.i.zoJ witn tie unfortunate landlord, t .ey
saw no ; Oisibility of any otuer re aft tua.i u
verdict against him. Mr. Sergeant Va igian,
waen tae case for the pi;o>euui 01 was c.o el,
rose and said—Now, gentlemen of t. e jury,
you have heard tne evidence adduced. o i
have seen it prove I by uuexeept.o uab’e wit
nesses, that tae defe idant reee led t e mod
positive instructions from all tuere not to -re
liver up the mo..ey, or any part of it, to e t i
er of the part e: except in tiic pre e .ce of all.
Gentlemen, my cl eat lias got t.ie mo .ey ui his
possession, and is ready to give it w c a all t e
three parties come to demand it. Let the ab
sent party be brought to this house in com jin
ny with t.ie other two. and every one w.ll have
h.s money returned to him.”
Tne de‘fence was equally ingenious and com
plete. Tic Jury lonke las am ze lat eic i
other as if some new world had burst o i the r
astonished gaze; so did all the spectators in
Court. The verdict was of course fort ie de
fendant. It is unnecessary to add, t lat t e
party who had absconded with the money, nev
er returned, and that consequently the poo •
landlord hud never to pay a farthing for t.e |
amount.
The Beach and the Bar.
THE WORLD WE LIVE IN.
There is sometimes a curious humor in the
Americans, and a quaintness of observation,
totally unlike any thing European, and yet
laughable enough. Woo but an Ante ieun
humorist would ever think of defining climates
and provinces by the ancient process, w lieh
has obtained such favor with all poets, fiotr
Homer downwards, who talks with such lavis.i
beauty of the rosy lips of Cytherea, to Siiaks
peare, who sings, in his own exquisite melo
dy—
“ Take, oh take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn
then to M.lton, who makes his angels’ lips
wear
“ Celestial rosy red, love’s proper hue
and also makes our general mother confess,
that
“ Her husband she preferr’d before the angel,
From his lip, not words alone pleased her
down througii the infinite gradation of poets
since the golden days of English verse to our
own, ecnoes of the ecaoes of past times ?
“ Waen a lover,” says tae American p iilo
sopher, “ attemj)ts to apply his lips lo thec.,eek
of his Nantucket fair oae, you instantly re og
nise the native of the sea-coast in her answer.
“ Come, sirrah, s.ieer o.T or I II split your
mainsail with a typhoon.” Boston lies in a
position where typhoons are less a figure of the
plastic mind ; and tne Bo toman fair one ap
peals to the sense of civihz it on by, “ 1 wonder
you are not ashamed ; our N.gger could not
do worse.” It is, however, another venture,
if the admirer approaches a beauty west of t c
O no. She has the spirit of t,e new country,
aiul though s!ie may neither flmg a tomahawk j
at the during worsnipper of ner dmk eyes 1 or 1
wring the scalp from his skull, she re ties wit i j
“ I reckon it’s my time now,” and k :ocks aim j
down. Fie quickness 01 her hand is equalled
only by the (l isa of her eye. and he m gat as
well expect to escape from t ie spring of a pan
ther W ien the maid of the Mississippi re
cedes tae saline, she ex lib ts the spirit of t ie I
region in her kindling cheek and points to ;er
r.fle, ot wa.ca lie has had tae precaut oa to
draw tiie charge if he is wise, or has any re
gard for his brains. She then promises him a
“ l° a n shot ’on the first opportunity. In
Pennsylvania, the meekness of that reg on of
close bonnets and drab-colore I corsets oredo
m ates even on tais trying occas on. T.ibitha
raises her qu et eyes from the ground, lor tae
first time in her life, measures t e daring in
truder w.thin her bonnet wl l a glance as wlth
ering as t ;e soit blue eyes of the f liie-t of Qua
ker; can manage to give, and sayet. oo this
w.se “O 1, 01, JeJediah ! I am verdv much
astonished at thy assurance. Je 'e bah—oh o 1!
Be sure, t.iat tor this indignity I w 11 show thee
up, Jedediah—o i, oh ! Tay lip. eve a t line
hath touched mine, even mine, oh oh ! Jode-
Blackwood.
Precaution . —A ceitiin votary of St. Pat
rick, one day found a light guine i, which he was
obliged to sell for eighteen shillings. Next day
he saw another guinea lying in t est eet: “Ar
rail,” says lie, “ 1 11 have no'h’vg to do urith. ijo:i ;
l last three shillings on your brother yester
day.*’
SCRAPS,
TO it is Hope? —Nothing (says Lord By
j ) but t.ie paint on tne f tee of existence ;
e least to.icu of truth rubs it ofF, and then
•• ee w.iat a hollow-cheeked harlot we have
got ho’J of.
Matrimonial Consolation. —A younger bro
er nad espoused an o!d and ill-tempered
v ie, but extremely rich. He used to say—
• whenever I find my temper giving way, I re
.re to my cloxit, and console myself by read
.g ner marriage settlement.”
Loss of Honor. —l had rather (said Louis
e Twelfth) suffer the loss of a kingdom,
v i c i may be retrelved, than tlie loss of honor,
v lien never can.
L übes, like tulips in the sunshine show—
’Tis to variety their charms they owe.
Passion —A man in a passion is like Ve
iuv'us in an eruption, vomiting foith flames
uid re 1 hot sto es, which descend immediate
ly i to its own bo om, till chance directs it over
t e e ’ge of the crate r, to deal destruction to
others.
“My love, you don’t look as handsome as
coirm > i, lately.”
“ I know it, but how can one afford to be
beautiful, when paint is so dear V’
Nothing sets up a woman’s spmik like call
ing her ugly—she gets her back right up like
a cat when a strange dog comes near her :
she is all eyes, claws and bristles.
Marriage is a feast where the grace is some
times better than the dinner.
Remarkable Phenomenon. —There is a man
in Vermont who sneezes so hard that every
t me he commences he pitches a somerset.
llippy Marriages. —Miss Landon says,
*• T.e o ily happy marriages I ever heard of
are t io e in some Eastern story I once read,
w ere the King marries anew wife every night
and cuts off her head in the morning.”
A physician attending a man afflicted with
inflammatory rheumatism, reports that he was
some part of the time suffering under such
sharp pains, that those who attempted to turn
him in his bed were severely cut in the hands
and arms.
A woman with a beaming face,
But with a heart untrue,
Though beautiful, is valueless
As diamonds form’d of dew !
Which is the best, to be over bead and ears
in lo eor in water ? In the winter, in love ; in
the summer, in water.
Past Lore. —I have loved another ; and in
that thought, as in an urn, lie the ashes of all
affliction.
Eloquence is vehement simplicity.
T.ie fallowing “ Rules" are posted in a Ncw-
Jersy school house:
“Wo kissing girls m school-time. No lick
ing the master during holydays.”
Connu iaUtirs.—k woman that has but one
lover thinks herself no coquette ; she that has
several, concludes herself no more a coquette.
It is the hardest th’ng in love, to feign it
where it is not. or hide it where it is; but it is
easier co interfered than concealed.
Absence is to love, what fisting is to the bo
dy : a little stimulates it, but a long abstinence
is f tab
A man is more reserved on his friend’s con
cerns than hs own; a woman, on the contra
ry, keeps her own secret better than anoth
er’s.
Love is the poetry of human nature.
The most rational and therefore truest re- j
m irk taat lias been made with respect to the j
gre it question, “ Wnich is the better, the mar- j
rie 1 or the single state ?” is the following:— j
Wire .ever resolution you come to, repentance j
will follow.
Economy. —“ My dear, you use too much
butter on vour bread,” said a lady who had been
married late in life, to her husband ; “ they will
not make butter for less than 25 cents a pound
now-a-davs.”
“ I do not know what they make it for,” an
swe red lie, “ but I buy it to eat upon my bread.”
Virtue is the queen of laborers; Opinion
the mistress of fools ; Vanity the pride of na
: ture, and Contention the overthrow of fami
lies.
No man can he truly happy here, without a
well grounded liojie of being happy hereafter.
We pitty the man who can harbor enmity
against his fellow:—he looses half the enjoy
ment of life ; —he embitters his own existence.
A sailor's description of hunting.— Going
to see my father t’other day, he ax’d me to
take a voyage a hunting with him ; so, when
the swablier had rigg’d the horses, they brought
me one to stow myself on board of—one that
they told me was in such right trim, she would
go as fast on any tack as a filkstone cutter :
sal got aloft, and cla[)t myself athwart ship and
mide as much way as any on ’em ; a id totlie
windward of a gravel pit was spied a hare it
anchor; so I weighed and bore away, and
iust as I had overtaken her, my horse came
plump ashore upon a rock—the backstay broke
—she pitched me over forecastle, came keel
ipwards, and unshipped my shoulder ; and
mng me if ever I sail on land privateering
again.”
A ladt’s portrait OP RBRSELP.
Perhaps no lady was ever belter reconciled
to ugliness in her own person tiian the
Ducuess of Orleans, the mother of the Regent
d’Orleans, who governed France during the
minority of Louis the fifteenth. Thus she
speaks of her own appearance and manners :
•• From my earliest years I was aware how or
dinary my appearance was, and did not like
that people should look at me attentively. I
never paid any attention to dress, because dia
monds and dress were sure to attract attention.
On great days my husband used to make me
rouge, which I did greatly against my will, as
1 hate everything that incommodes me. One
day 1 made the Countess Soissons laugh hear
tily. She asked me why I never turned my
head whenever I passed before a mirror—eve
ry body else did ? I answered, because I had
too much self-love to bear the sight of my own
ugliness! I must have been very ugly in my
youth. I had no sort of features ; with little
twinkling eyes, a short snub nose, and long
thick lips, the*vvho!e of my physiognomy was
far from attractive. My face was large, with
fat cheeks, and iny figure was short and
stumpy; in short, I was a very homely sort of
person. Except for the goodness of my dis
position, no one would have endured me. It
was impossible to discover anything like intel
ligence in my eyes, except with a microscope.
Perhaps there was not on the face of the earth
such another pair of ugly hands as mine.—
The king often told me so, and set me laugh
ing abort it; for as 1 was qui’esure of being ve
ry ugly. I made up mv mind to be always the
first to laugh at it. This succeeded very well,
though I must confess it furnished me with a
good stock of materials for laughter.”
INSTINCT or A SHEEP.
A gentleman of Inverness, on a recent jour
ney in the Highlands, while passing through a
lonely and unfrequdntcd district, observed a
sheep hurrying toward the road before him,
as if to intercept his progress, and at the same
time bleating most piteously. On approaching
nearer, the animal redoubled its cries,and look
ing significantly in the face of the traveller
seemed to implore some favor or assistance a r
his hands. Touched with a sight so-unusual,
the gentleman alighted, and leaving his gig,
followed the sliecj) to a field in the direction
whence it came. There in a solitary cairn, at
a considerable distanoe from the road, the sheep
halted, and our traveller found a lamb com
pletely wedged in between two large stones of
the cairn, and struggling feebly with its legs
uppermost. The gentleman instantly extrica
ted the little sufferer, and placed it safely on
the neighboring greensward, while its overjoy
ed mother poured forth her thanks in a long
continued and grateful, if not a musical strain.
Glasgow Chronicle.
FORCE OF AFFECTION.
While the convicts were proceeding a few
days ago from Clonnel to the depot in Cove,
they had to pass through the village of Clog,
been, where one of them had formerly resided.
His family gathered round the car to hid him
farewell. lle grasped his little son in his arms,
and it required actual violence to separate
them. When the child was taken from him,
he called out to young Mr. Vowel, who had
the convicts in charge, “ Oh, Mr. Harry? my
heart is broken !” Then fell hack on the car
and expired before the party had reached the
next town. Irish paper.
A DIFFICULT CASE.
The French courts are about to have a case
laid before them which presents difficulties
which it would require the wisdom of Solomon
to decide. The following are the facts :
The maid-servant of a house, a young wo
man “of a certain age,” was summoned to
the succour of two suffering mothers, and in a
few minutes received into her arms two new
born male infants, which she placed in a cra
dle, but without marking the place of either.
One of the children died a few minutes after
it birth, and now both mothers claim the living
one.
For ihe Southern Post.
THE HOPE OP HEAVEN.
There is a beam,- —a heavenly light,
Tracing a pathway pure and bright,
Spotless as the unwritten page,
To solace youth or lengthening age r
A balm for earthly cares tis given,
The pure and joyous Hope of Heaven.
Without this hope, alas ! to die,
What bosom could its tumults fly ;
No tears could heal the mental wo,
That may the bursting- heart o’erflow :
Nothing ean„sooth the bosom riven.
Without the joyous Hope of Heaven.
Earth’s fleeting joys, alas ! how vain
To calm die heart's corroding pain ;
Contrition soon its pleasures mar.
And scatter all its treasures far:
The cherish’d all fir which we’ve striven.
Yields not the priceless llo]te of Heaven.
’Tis only where the heart benign
Can every earthly tie resign ;
Where faith and hope, and pious love
The soul in gentle influence move.
Onward, to take its high behest,
Reposing on a Saviour’s breast:
Thine to attain the joys that's given.
To those who seek a Home in Heaven.
o tr.
THE fIOME OF THE DESOLaTE.
A FRAGMENT.
“ How many drink the cup,
Os baleful grief, or eat the bitter bread
Os misery! Sore pierced by wintry winds.
How many shrink into die sordid hut
Os cheerless poverty.”
BV C- W. EVEREST.
It night—the storm howled sadly by—
and the mother sat in silence by the scanty
fire, tiiat warmed and faintly lighted the
wretched, dilapidated cottage, once, in brighter
days, her happy home ! Sue had divided to
her ragged and starving babes the little pitance
of bread remaining to her, yet scarcely suffic
ing to satisfy the mad cravings of hunger !
Little thought they, that they claimed their
niotiier’s all : yet freely was it given, with a
silent tear that it was all! She hushed their
cries—sootned their sorrows—covered them
with her tattered mantle—hade them a sad
‘ good-night' —and returned to her sorrowful
vigil.
Tne night wore away,—and still sat the
mother over the fading fire she could not re
plenish, waiting the jeoming of him whose
returning footsteps once caused a thrill of joy
through her bosom, and was hailed with bois
terous glee by his little ones. Once, he prom
ised at the altar to love and cherish her, and
nobly, awhile, did he redeem the pledge. His
cottage was the home of comfort, and his wiffe
and infants divided his love! But ah! how
changed ! He had become a Drunkard/-
H,s business was neglected—his home was
deserted—and his late return was hut the har
b.nger of woe ! Fie came to curse the inno
cent partner of his nrisery as the author of his
wretchedness, and his frightened children
snrunk away from him, screaming, as from a
fiend! Wnere waits he now ? The shadows
of nig .t have long darkened the landscaj e !
What delays his return ?—Alas ! the low haunt
which ha»n ghtly witnessed the shameful rev
el, now ecnoes to his frantic shout! Sur
rounded by boon companions, he seeks to
drown the memory of his sorrows in the bowl;
wnile his wretched, starving, squallid wife, still
keeps her lonely vigil by her cheerless hearth !
Stillness—solemn stillness, like the grave’s,
reigns in that dreary habitation : and no sound
is heard, save when the fitful sighing of the
wintry blast, or the low murmur of her dream
ing infants, rouses tne watcher from her trance.
Tnen sue rises her aching eyes to the dim dial,
and with a glance to Heaven, turns to-her lone
ly watch again. But now “the tempest of
aer feelings has grown too-fierce to he repress,
e I”—her bosom heaves with the wild emotions
of her soul—and her thin hands seem endea
voring to force hack the bursting torrent of
her tears! * * * * * *
Tiie clock struck the hour of
raidmght-r-nnd he came as wont! With a
fearful oath, he cursed his wife’s fond care:
and that mother’s silent tears, and the low
wail of his frightened babes, went up to God
for witness! ***** *
Would you know the conclusion of the story ?
Go; ask the jail, the almshouse, and the grave—
and they will tell you !
Southern Literary Messenger.
For the Southern Post
LINES TO AMELIA—ON ABSENCE.
'Tis when at night my roving thoughts
Are hushed and folded in my brdaet;
Till *hv bright form has flitted near
No sleep, no slumber, gives me rest.
I’ll ne’er forget the cheering smiles,
Which on your face I always see ;
Time mat' all things else beguile,
But still, oh ! still, I’ll think of thee !
In accents sweet as angels use,-
Methinks falls from your rosy lips
And of vour form I like to muse,
’Tis like the flower the wild bee sips.
The pure affections of thy soul
Flow' smooth like the untroubled sea;
No power can e’er my mind control,
To draw my thoughts aw ay from thee.
In foreign lands I’ve travelled wide,
O’er rugged rocks *nd mountains high,
And oft did I wish thee at my side,
To view’ your soft black rolling eye.
But, oh ! my thoughts were all in vain,-
Those sparkling gems I could not sec ;
And though I may ne’er see you again,-
Yet, I will ever think of thee!
When far away in distant clime
With curious eye unsated strayed,
And down the winding stream of time,
On every changeful current played :
Ye% still at moments would I raise
My w'earied head awhile to see
The simple sports of idle days,
And then, oh ! then would think of thee.
I’ll think of thee, Amelia fair,
The hours, w hen on the gentle lake,
The sportive wavelets blue and clear,
Soft rippling to the margin brake.
And when the deafening billow's foam
In madness o’er the pathless sea,
Thsn will my mind in fancy roam
Across them, and remember thee-
Wlien winter winds are piercing chill,
And o’er the wild w’oods blow’s the gala,
With solemn feet I’ll tread the hill
That overbrows the lonely vale :
And when the waning moon-beam sleeps,
At moonlight o’er the lonely lea ;
And nature’s pensive spirit weeps
In all her dews, I’ll think of thee !
MUZA.
i TUB tTiSIIINGTOJI DtTET..
In the correspondence of the Pennsylvotp
Inquirer, we find the following account of t!'*
highly commendable conduct of Mrs. Graves
in her endeavors to prevent the final duel-1 ’
“ The lady of the Hour Mr. Graves v
uot aware tiiat her husband was about to W
engaged in a duel till late in the morning.-!
Every thing had been kept from the knowfecW
of the females connected with the parties. °
By some accident, I knew not how it \ Va
Mrs. Graves ascertained the painful feet, ti -
ller husband had gone to the field. Notwith
standing the day was severely cold and the la."
dy was in feeble health, the moment the intefiil
gence of the duel was made known to her, she
proceeded to the proper authorities, and ’pro.
: cured a bench warrant for the artist of all the
parties engaged in the affair. She then p ro _
cceded to the Marshal of the District, procure
ed a carriage, and accompanied that officer to
seek out the field of battle.
The better to execute their designs, and
avoid all interruption, the duellists had led the
public astray as to the place selected, and Mrs.
Graves, alter having examined several places'
usually resorted to by those who indulge b
the trial by battle, without success, returned to
the city in despair. Before she reached her
lodgings, the deed had been done.
I Ter conduct is worthy of all commendation
and applause. The spirit and deep moral
sense which this lady evinced, should entitle her
to the admiration of every advocate of hu.
inanity and justice. Had she been success,
ful in her holy efforts to repress and subdue the
hurricane of passion, which led her husband
to the margin of an untimely grave, the affair
might have bcem amicably adjusted, and poor
Cilley might have escaped the fate that attend,
ed him. And whilst the unfortunate Mrs. Cil.
ley and her orphan children are left to bewail
the loss of a father and husband, it may be a
mournful satisfaction to them to know, that
the wife of the man at whose hands he fell,
struggled, though ineffectually, to prevent the
death of their common protector.
A HARD CASr.
At the Greenwich Petty Sessions, an old
collegian, apparently in the last stage of con.
sumption, asked the magistrate the best way he
(the applicant) conld get rid of a very bad
tenant. “Double the rent*.” “I ! have done
that, your honor.” “ Distfain the goods.”—
“ She ain’t got any.” [Roars of laughter, in
which the magistrate joined.} “ Take off the
roof.” [Loud laughter.] “ Lord bless you!
that would never do ; she and her four children
would pull the house down.” “ You had Let
ter consult an attorney.” “ Consult a retor
ney—slip’s not worth powder and shot iff
gain the action.” [Continued laughter-]. The
magistrate said lie could not suggest any other
course, and the applicant retired.
PINTERS.
The Lancaster (Pa.) Examiner states that
“ John B. Smith, one ol the members of the
House of Representatives from Philadelphia
county, is a journeyman printer, and that in the
Senate of that state, there are four practical
printers, namely, Messrs. Rogers, Peltz, Ste
rett, and Kingsbury. Mr. Hamersley, the
Clerk of the Senate, is also stated to be a prnc
tical printer. Judge Lewis, now’ a distinguish
ed lawyer and Judge in Pennsylvania, was a
journeyman-printer in the office'of the New-
York Daily Advertiser in 1837.”
Citizens’ neetins.
At a public meeting of merchants and oth
ers, held at the City Hall, Isaac G. Seymour,
Esq. was Called to the chair, and Win. B.
Parker, Esq. appointed Secretary.
On motion, the report of the Convention
held at Augusta on the IGtli of October last,
was read by the Secretary.
On motion, Resolved, That this meeting
highly approve the proceedings of the Conven
tion of Merchants and others, held in the city
of Augusta, on the 16th of October last, and
fully concur in the views presented in the able
Address of the Convention to the people of
the Southern and South Western States : that ,
we regard it important that this city should
again be represented in the Convention to be
held in the city of Augusta, on the first Mor
day of April next, and that this meeting now
ctioosc thirteen Delegates for that purpose. —
The following gentlemen were accordingly
chosen -
W. B. Parker ; Jno. Baldwin,
Robert Collins, E. D. Tracy,
Jno. T. Rowland, Elms Beall r
John Lamar, C. J. MeDonald,
E. Hamilton, Washington Poe r
A. H. Chappell, L G. Seymour,
L. L. Griffin.
On motion, Resolved, That a committee of
five he appointed to notify the Delegates now
selected, and ascertain whether they will sene,
and if as many as seven do not proinis to serve,
tiiat said committee he authorized to select oth
ers to make up that number.. The following
gentlemen compose that committee:
T. G. Holt, A. Clopton, L. Eckley, W. B-
Johnston, and O. Gregory.
On motion, Resolved, That the proceedings
of this meeting be published in the several pa*-
pers of this city. The meeting adjourned.
ISAAC G. SEYMOUR, Chairman-
W. B. Parker, Secretary.
Macon. March 10.1838,