Newspaper Page Text
of March, i*93, when Wasljuigtou delivered
his utldi-cds, in order to counteract the effects
of the celebrated anonymous letter of John
Armstrong, a composition not surpassed in
splendor of style or bitterness of spirit, by the
best efforts of Junius himself. The object was
to prevent the urmy from sheathing their
swords, until Congress had settled all arrear
ages of pay and compensation : and this bold
and reckless measure, which aimed to undo all
the work Ot our revolution anti csUiVriaW a 1
military despotism, unless the demand was
gratified, was crushed by the superior energy
and decision of the commandcr-in-chicf.
“1 was also engaged in defence of Mud
Island, where our privations and exposures ;
were truely great and hazardous.
“ Such, sir, is an outline of my services to
America, for almost nine years; and if I have
contributed to establish the liberties of my
country, and the constitution under which we
enjoy our invaluable rights and privileges, it
shall solace me in the decline of life; and when
the God of battles shall summon me from
earth, 1 shall bow submissively to his sovereign
will, and say, ‘ Lord now lettest thou thy ser
vant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen
thy salvation.’ ”
MOTHER.
There is something in that word—mother,
that sounds a pause in the busy pursuits ol life
—nay, in the current of ordihary thought.
There is a calm about it that divests of every
selfish—-every sordid feeling; it strikes the
sweetest string of the sympathies of our nature;
it brings up in bright remembrance, the peace
fulness, the sunny days of our early life, and
with them all their vision of prospective honor
and fame and happiness. No time—no dis
tance —no vicissitudes of life can change that
deep, that holy veneration, we early imbibe for
her who gave us existence. It is the first
principle that germinates in the bosom ot in- !
fancy ; it is, as it were, the guardian spirit of
youth, and even maturer years; it is the act
that quits the human heart when abandoned to
vice—when it becomes an outlaw to its God. ;
If'our footsteps have been directed in the paths
of virtue—if success has rewarded our exer.
tions in the pursuits of a virtuous ambition— j
if we ride joyously upon the waves of affluence
and glory—a “ mother's voice ” mingles, and
gladdens, and crowns the felicity. Ifovertakcn
by the storms of adversity—every hope blight,
ed by chilling disappointment —betrayed by the
treachery of friendship, the hypocracy of the
world—abandoned to penury, sorrow and
disease—then, even then, there is one that will
not desert us—there is yet one safe, quiet asy- !
lum left us—home, the home of our childhood
— a “ mother's home!”—it is a green spot in
the great Zuhara of life; it is the peaceful har.
bor, where we may find shelter from the tern
pest of the ever changeful ocean of human ex
istence. Mother! In the sound of that sacred ;
name, the monarch himself forgets his diadem,
and feels that he is a child ; the wretch who is j
doomed to a miserable existence in a dungeon,
or to atone for crime upon the scaffold, whose j
atrocities long since have sealed up the foun- j
tain of his sympathies, tell him of the bitter j
anguish ofa“ mother,” and, though an apostate
to his Maker, he trembles and kneels in peni- |
tential sorrow ; the tear, that stranger to vice, !
trickles silently down the brawny cheek,
wrinkled by time, and care, and guilt.
Such is the tribute, the involuntary homage
of our hearts towards our mothers. The
principle, the controlling power of this venera- j
tion, although almost imperceptible, is still in* j
calculable. Where is the man, whatever may
be his age, his wisdom, his condition of life,
that would utterly disregard the counsels of his
mother? '.Where is the wretch, however lost
to virtue, however abandoned to iniquity, who
would dare to raise his hand in crime, should !
he hear the maternal injunction, “ forbear!”
From the Alexandria Gazette.
EDITORIAL WRITINGS.
A few days ago the National Intelligencer
had some sensible remarks on the subject of
editing a paper. One idea expressed has ;
frequently struck us with great force. Many
people estimate the ability of a newspaper, and
the industry and talents of its editor, by the
variety and quantity of editorial matter which
it contains. Nothing can be more fallacious.
It is comparatively an easy task for a frothy
writer to pour out, daily, columns of words—
words, upon any and all subjects. His ideas
may flow in “ one weak, washy, everlasting
flood,” and his command of language may ena
ble him to string them together like bunches
of onions ; and yet his paper may he a meager
and poor concern. But what is the labor, the
toil of such a man, who displays his “ leadded
matter” ever so largely, to that imposed upon j
the judicions, well-informed editor, who exer
cises his vocation with an hourly consciousness
of its responsibilities and its duties, and devotes
himself to the conduct of his paper with the
same care and assiduity that a sensible lawyer
bestows upon a suit, or a humane physician
upon a patient—without regard to show or
display! Indeed, the mere writing part, of
editing a paper, is a small portion of the work, j
The industry is not even shown there. The
care, the taste, the time, employed in selecting
is far more important— and the tact of a good
editor is better show by his selections than any
thing else ; and that, we all know, is half the t
battle. But, as we have said, an editor ought
to he estimated, and his labors understood and
appreciated, by the general conduct of this
paper—its temper —its manner—its uniform,
consistent course—its principles—its aims—
its manliness—its dignity—its propriety. To
preserve all these, as they should be preserved,
is enough to occupy fully the time and atten
tion of any man. If to litis he added the
general supervision ofthe newspaper establish
ment, which most editors have to encounter,
the wonder is, how they can find time, or
head-room,” to write at all!
A fellow way np the Mississippi, in under
taking to describe the habits of the gentry,
said:— ‘ They eat so late that they must always
he hungry. They has their dinners at 8 o’-
clock in the evening, and don’t eat their supper
till after breakfast in the morning.
A married lady at Nashville, when asked to
waltz, is said to have refused on the ground
that she had “hugging enough at homo.”
THE HUNAN PANTHER.
Tiie Peoria Begister, a j*aper which fre
quently instructs and amuses us with anec
dotes connected with tlie settlement of the
western country, furnishes us with the follow
ing sketch, which it says, was related by a
gentleman of great respectability, living near
the spot where the circumstance occurred :
“ In the latter part of that bloody tragedy,
which spread dismay throughout this part of
tho State, there were about nine hundred In
dians encamped on the Illinois river, oppos.te
to the present town site of La Salle, composed
principally of the Iroquois tribe. They had
always maintained a friendly intercourse with
the whites in that vicinity, and had manifested
a great partiality for one in particular. This
was “old Myers,” a perfect prototype of Coop
er’s trapper. This State was the fifth in
which he had erected his cabin in advance of
a white population. He had, of course ac
quired more of the habits of the Indians than
of civilized men, and was familiarly known
among them as “ The Panther;” a title which
he had acquired from- them, by a daring ex
ploit in killing an animal of that name, when
leading them in one of the wild hunts. At
the period referred to, these Indians rallied un
der the Black Hawk standard, and were com
mitting many depredations upon tho settlers
in tho vicinity. When repulsed, they did
not hesitate to wantonly murder their former
friends. About the cabin #f the Panther,
nearly a hundred settlers had come in for the
safety of their wives and children, placing
them under his protection. But among the
victims of savage barbarity, th 6 re happened to
be a brothor-in-law of the Panther, with his
wife and three children. Herein they com
mitted an unpardonable outrage upon the
family of their ancient friend and demi-savage.
When the sad tidings of their erne! fate reach
ed the garrison, the Panther was seen clothing
himself in battle array'. With his rifle, his
tomahawk, and scalping knife, in o|>cn day,
he silently bent his steps to the Indian quar
ters, about a mile distant. Fearlessly, he
marched into the midst of the savage band,
levelled his rifle At the head chief present, and
deliberately killed him on the spot. He then
severed the lifeless head from its trunk, and
held it up by the hair, before the awe-struck
multitude, exclaiming, ‘ You liav* murdered
my brother, his wife, and three little ones, and
I now have killed your chief. lam now even
with you ; ‘but,’ he added, ‘ every one of you
that is found here to-morrow morning at sun
rise is a dead Indian.’ All this was accom
plished by the Panther without the least moles
tation. They knew that he would t; ke ven
geance for their deed of blood; and silently
acknowledged the justice of the daring act.
He then bore •ffthe head in silence to his ca
bin. The next morning not an Indian could
be found in that region. They left fewer
their homes and their dead, and that part ol the
State has not been molested by them since.
A few weeks since, this veteran of eighty
winters sold his claim, and caparisoned with
the same hunting shirt and weapons which he
wore when he killed the chief, started for Mis
souri. After travelling a few rods, he returned
and asked permission to give his “grandyell."
The gentleman to whom he had sold the land,
giving his assent, he gave a long, loud, and
shrill whoop, that made the welkin ring for
miles around. “ Now,” said he, “my bless
ing is on the land and on you ; your ground
will always yield abundance, and will always
prosper.” Again he took up his march for a
new home in the wilderness, where he could
enjoy the happiness of solitude, undisturbed by
social ties.
TROPICAL THUNDER STORM.
In tropical countries the phenomena of thun
der storms are more dreadful and appalling
than in our temperate climate. The thunder
frequently continues for days and weeks in
almost one incessant roar ; the rains are pour
ed down in torrents, and the flashes of light
ning follow each other in so rapid a succession,
that the whole atmosphere and the surrounding
hills seem to be in a blaze. In some instances
the most dreadful effects have been produced
by the bursting of electrical cloud. In
1772, a bright cloud was obseived at midnight
to cover a mountain in the Island of Java ; it
emitted globes of fire so luminous, that the
night became as clear as day. Its effects were
astonishing. Every thing was destroyed for
seven leagues round. Houses were demolish
ed ; plantations were buried in the earth ; and
two thousand one hundred and forty people
lost their lives, besides one thousand five hun
dred head of cattle, and a vast number of horses
and other animals.
CONTEMPLATION AND ACTION.
Jean Paul Richter thus beautifully contrasts
these two qualities of the soul: “ VVho is the
greater sage, he who lifts himself above the
stormy time and contemplates it without ac
tion ; or he who from the high region of calm
ness throws himself into the battling tumult
ofthe times? Sublime is it when the eagle
soars upward through the storm into the clear
heaven ; but sublimer, when floating in the
serene blue above, he darts down through the
thick storm-cloud to the rock-hung eyry, where
his unfeathered young live and tremble.”
ANECDOTE.
The celebrated Dr. Jardine lived next house
to a painter, and their families were on the
most intimate terms. The grounds of the
artist being beautifully laid out, he proposed
that a door should be made in the garden wall,
that the Doctor’s family might walkover them
at pleasure,w hich was done. Dr.'J.’s servants,
however, abused tlvs privilege, and made the
painter considerable trouble, whereupon he
sent word that he should be compelled to close
the door unless the servants kept off his pre
mises. This message provoked the Doctor,
who returned for answer that his friend “ might
do what he pleased with the door, so that he
did not paint it /” The artist immediately re
torted “ that he had received the insolent mes
sage, but did not care a straw about it, for he
could take any thing from the Doctor but his
Physic /”
Flattery is a sort of bad memory to which
our vanity gives currency.
Depreciate no one—an atom has a shadow.
Parlour feasts extinguish kitchen fires.
PICATCNEANA.
YVc had a flash of lightning, a few days ago,
so vivid, with its attendant thunder so loud and
instantaneous, that the whole town for a mo
ment was startled. Even the animal creation
was much alarmed. \Ve were much amused
at two dogs, one of which was “ deeply in the
merits” of a marrow bone, while the other stood
in a grabbing attitude near him —the issue of
combat was nearly joined, wiien the thunder
spoke; they both ran in different directions,
leaving the morsel forsome more fortunate cur.
“ It was dogged hard —so it was.”
The greatest match race that we have heard
of, says the Boston Times, has been going on
between a pumpkin and a squash vine in Rox
bury. At the last dates the race was about
neck and neck, though the pumpkin vine had
decidedly the advantage, as ti.e squash vine is
of the species denominated “crooked neck,”
and is obliged to run into kinks like a pig’s tail.
Tiiking it Quite Cooly. —“ Can you pay this
small bill to-day ?” said a collector a few days
since calling on a gentleman for a settlement.
“ Please look in to-morrow, if you can make
it convenient. I have a duel to fight in about
half an hour and hav’uttime to look over your
account just now.”
A western paper says that an anonymous
handbill, signed by a number of the most re
spectable citizens, has been posted up at the
corners of the streets.
A loafer the other day asked for news, was
actually astonished on being informed that the
Dutch had taken Holland. “ And were,” con
tinued he, his eyes dilating with wonder—
“ where the and 1 have they taken it to ?”
The following sportive paragraphs appear
in the two little rival papers at Louisville :
When the time shall come that we will be
compelled to “ hire” aa editor, we’ll hang up
our fiddle, and go a fishing,— Enquirer.
The “ time” came. The editor’s “ fiddle”
is hung up, and the editor is no doubt enjoying
all the sports of angling. He may gull fish—
people he never can,— Ledger.
The fisherman, we think, has got a bite.
A CURIOSITY.
A young gentleman wrote the following
letter, under the direction and eye of his fath
er, to his “ ladye-love,” having an understand
ing with her, however, that she was to read
only every other line, beginning with the first.
All parties were satisfied :
The great love I have hitherto expressed for you
is false, and I find that my indifference towards you
increases every day; the more I see of you the more
you appear in my eyes an object of contempt. —
I feel myself every way disposed and determined to
hate you. Believe me, I never had an intention to
offer to you my hand. Our last conversation has
left a tedious insipidity, which has, by no means,
given me the most exalted idea of your character;
your temper would make me extremely unhappy,
and if we are united, I shall experience nothing but
the hatred of my parents, added to everlasting dis
pleasure in living with you. I have indeed a heart
to bestow, but I do not wish you to imagine that it is
at your service; I could not give it to any one more
inconsistent and capricious than yourself, and less
capable to do honor to my choice and to my family.—
Yes, madam, I beg that you will be persuaded that
I speak sincerely, and you will do me a great favor
to avoid me. I shall excuse your taking the trouble
to answer this sheet. Your letters are always full of
impertinence, and you have not even the shadow of
wit or good sense. Adieu ! adieu ! Believe me, lam
so averse to you that it is impossible for me ever to be
your most affectionate friend and humble servant.
ORIGINAL.
STAGE-COACH RECOLLECTIONS.
IV.
Philadelphia, August, 1838.
Mr. Editor : —Competition is the life of
business; this is no saying of mine, but is a long
and well established maxim. I left the ancient
city of Alexandria, from whence I last wrote
you, and for the very small price of twelve and
a half cents was safely transported to Wash
ington. So much has been said and written
of the great capital of our truly great Repub
lic, that I can hardly venture a description,
where so many have been given by abler
hands. The first prominent object of atten
tion is the Capitol, a grand and beautiful pile,
with its massive domes and porticos, its classic
chambers and high-arched halls, worthy to
resound the eloquence and give forth the laws
to govern a great nation. Os the halls of le
gislution, no description could be made intel
ligible without plans and diagrams. The Ro
tunda, occupying the centre ofthe building, is
a beautiful specimen of architectural skill, so
high is its ceiling, that the sound of a footfall
at first startles the visitant. A few feet above
the pavement, the walls are divided into eight
panncls, four of which are filled with paintings
illustrating important events in our Revolu
tionary history : The signing of the Declara.
tion of Independence, the surrender of Bur
goync, the surrender of Cornwallis, and Gen.
Washington’s resignation. The other four
panncls are already engaged to be filled, byau
thority of Congress, with similar subjects, by
native American artists. Above these, are
smaller panncls filled with beautiful groups of
sculpture, representing scenes of our earlier
history : The landing of the Pilgrims, the
rescue of Captain Smith by Pocahontas, &c.
YY'ere I competent to criticism in matters of
this kind, I should scarcely dare venture to
occupy your time and the patience of your
readers in those short sketches, but there is
one thing in reference to those national me
mentos, I allude to the painted signs or labels
under each ; as, for instance, under the De
claration of Independence is the word Phila
delphia, in gilt letters as large as a mer
chant’s sign board; so of the others; and on the
prow of the ship, in the Landing of the Pil
grims, is the figures, 1620 ; conveying the im
pression, that every educated American does
not know the time of the Landing ofthe Pil
grims, or the place where our Independence
was declared. It seems to me, that the fine
Arts should be confined to illustration, not re
cords, which more properly belong to history;
and hence, that the grand portraitures of
events, so deeply engraven on the hearts of
Americans should not be disfigured with la
bels ; like a school boy’s first attempt at draw-
I ing, which requires to'be labelled, “ this is a
horse,” !c»t, having extended it’s ears too far, it
might be mistaken for another animal ; hut,
enough of this. Much has been said ofthe
Wane House ; it’s aristocratic elegance ; it’s
princely splendor. I, wlio have never trod
the princely halis_ of European aristocracy,
can only judge by what we find in the descrip
tion of tourists. But in our Presidential man
sion, I sec nothing that seems unworthy of
the dignity, wealth, power, and enterprize of a
great republican people. The rooms are large;
tlie furniture massive and plain, hut olegant,
and every thing around and within the man
sion, seems to me, such as the dignity of
our own national character at home, and
our necessary intercourse with foreign nations
requires, should be thrown around the head
of a great people. It is the office, rot the in
dividual, which is to be honored. Hence, we
see, that, while it is often the case, that the
lowest orders of European aristocracy seldom
mingle with tlie first society ofthe Table de
Ilote at our best hotels ; the plain Republi
can President ofthe United States, when tra
velling, takes a seat at the public table of a
hotel in common with his countrymen.*
The lions of Washington, when Congress
is not in session, are but few. Leaving the
city, a five o’clock, by Rail Road, I reached
Baltimore, the city of monuments, at a few
minutes past eight—a ride of forty miles to
breakfast. After taking lime to visit those
beautiful classic emblems of the taste of the
State of Maryland, and taking a ride through
the most beautiful streets ofthe city. Again
entering the cars, wc arrived at Philadelphia,
upwards of one hundred miles further, soon
after the hour of dinner—what a practical il
lustration ofthe vast utility of Rail-ways ; hav
ing, however, noticed the subject before, 1
forbear bore; but, I confess, I feel humbled
while I see our own Georgia so inert and di
latory, in the movements on this great subject
of national enterprize, when her wealth and
resources are so far a-head of many who are
outsripping her.
After visiting what may interest me in the
city of brotherly love, I may probably write
you again at my first leisure. X.
* This actually occurred at Richmond not more than
three days before I arrived there.
FAME.
What is Fame ? Is it sustenance of life ; is it hap
piness ; does it bring content; does it produce the soft
er joys of life ; can it command the tender sympathy,
and rule, with pleasure, wedded life ? Does it smooth
the rough pages of existence, or mellow its asperities ;
make calm the tide of passions, or quell their boister
ous overflowings? Does its tone sound in accordance
with the still small voice of Religion ; does its aims and
ends agree with the moral law of God ? What is
Fame ? Is it to be spoken of by men in after times—
then He that burnt.the Temple of Ephesus Ins as much
as an Alexander,or a Socrates ? Is fame the offspring
of good actions, or bad—or both ? The question sug
gests the sufficient answer. What is Fame ? A vain
shadow unfit to taint the noble mind of man ? Man
should live to honor God, and in doing so ennoble him
self. t|t
For the Southern Post.
POETIC THEMES.
The harp is struck, the poet kneels,
And fondly turns his gaze to Heav’n,
And soft he sings as warm he feels.
The hallow’d flame by seraph’s g v’n.
List, now he sings of Eden’s bow’rs,
Os man’s estate, in glory there,
Os sweetest bliss and golden hours,
Os mutual Love, all free from care.
He scans the new-born worlds on high,
In azure realms he marks their flight,
And Beauty’s in the jewel’d sky,
And Grandeur sets enthron’d in night.
The blooming vine, the nectar sweet,
The verdant dale and pearly stream,
The choral strain from some retreat
In Paradise enrich the theme.
Yet soft he sings the hopes of man.
Immortal life inspires the lay,
As pure he roves in Eden-land,
While gentle zephyrs round him play.
The minstrel’6 brow is sadden’d now,
And slow and solemn strains are shed,
The vile are damn’d ! and low they bow,
Immortal hopes and joys arc dead.
The lightning’s glare athwart the sky,
The thunder rolls in terror deep,
And Ocean howls—and oft’ the cry
Os anguish tells that mortals weep.
These themes attune the Poet's lyre
To deep ton’d gloomy melody,
Unbound’d love now chang’d to ire,
Awaken ofV sad minstrelsy.
List! now he sings of Nature wild,
Her mountain cliffs and forest glades,
Her blossom’d vales, and zephyr’s mild,
And feather’d songsters’ serenade:
The sunset sea with burning ligl t,
Tne storm careering wildly by,
The beacon fire, burning bright,
Awake the soul to melody.
The broken heart and maniac eye,
The wither'd hope’s of treasur’d love,
The fondest pleasure’s b >rn to die,
The minstrel’s heart doth sadly move.
And music’s in the plaint of woe,
And wildest shriek is melody,
To him whose heart is wither’d now,
Whose hopes were bright to fade and die.
The battle-ground and marshall'd host,
The shock of armies on the plain,
The victor’s wreath—the vanquish’d, lost,
The poet sings in length’ned strain.
For glory’s in the burnish’d shield,
The helmet glitters from afar :
The waving plume, the banner’d field,
Incite to noble deeds of war.
The shock, the elesh of ai ms, the shriek
The clammy brow, the struggling breath,
The voice of fame and glory speak,
And wreath the brow that’s pale in death.
The widow’s hope, the orpnan’s love,
ImpalPd in win ling sheet of bloo 1;
Embalming tears—the minstrel m< ve,
And oft he mourns the blighted bud.
But list! oh, list! sweet minstrels melt
Their mellow tones by angels giv’n ;
The prelude’s o’er, they all have knelt
And swept the strings,—their theme is Ileav'n !
They sing the woes of this poor earth,
The prison’d soul beneath the sky;
No ransom here—no friend but Death—
No home beneath its rest on high.
They sing—the grave is sweetest res?,
A refuge while the tempest sweeps ;
It soothes the sorrows of the breast.
And dries the tear of him who weeps.
It cuts the silver cord which binds,
Immortal hopes to sorrows here ;
It guides the pilgrim home, and finds
A rest that's free from toil and fear.
But farther still o'er coming years,
They sing the dying sun to rest;
And hark, the saint now sweetly hoars
The swelling anthems of the blest.
The sun is dead—the moon no more
In silv'ry beauty burns at ev'n ;
The groan is hush’d—the struggle's o'er,
And all the just are sav’d in Heav'n. \y
Warren/on, August 20th, 1833.
StDTUTIEnEIBH
MACON:
Saturday Morning, August 25, 1838.
OCT After a long drought, that has very much injured
the corn crops, we have at length had a refreshiug
shower, which has very much cooled the air. The
nights are growing cool. also. Altogether, the weather
has changed very much for the better. The olive-co
lorcd Autumn will soon be upon us, with its rich trea
sures of sustenance, and ripened products of Agricul
ture Business, we hope, will commence ’he ensuing
season with new life and energy. The Banks of this
city will resume specie payments on the first of October
rext. YVe presume it will be a general time of resump
tion throughout the State.
&y~ The suggestion of a late writer fiom a foreign
port, in relation to the name we should bear, as distin
guished from Americans, in common, we think not a
bad one. Although the probability of such a name
being generally accepted is extremely remote, the sub
ject is neverthe'ess a curious one, and of some interest
to all. All have felt the want of such a name as the
writer suggests, when being questioned in relation to
their nativity : it would certainly be vastly convenient
to say, for instance, we are Fredoniaxs, (the name
suggested by the writer alluded to, to be given, or add
ed rather, to the United States,) instead of the tedious
phrase, ice are citizens of the United States.'' It even
then docs not fully expresss what we desire. YVe may
say wc are Americans —so can the Indian, and with a
better c'aim to the title—so can the Spanish and Por
tugese decent of South-America, and the West-Indics,
who have nothing in common with us, cither in the
spirit of their institutions, or customs. So with all oth
er of the petty Governments established there, under,
perhaps, as tyrannical laws as any that govern the ra
tions of the East. America is the name used as con
nected with Freedom—the resort of the oppressed of all
countries. But a poor sample of it, we fear, would be
found in many of the places alluded to. It is the Uni
ted States meant, and her laws and institutions ; but
the name America implies a far greater extent: hence
the propriety and necessity of having a cognomen pe
culiar to ourselves, and expressive of our institutions.
Thus the English, the French, the Spanish, &.c. are all
Europeans, as the Indians, Mexicans, Tcxians, Bra
ziiians, and Canadians, are all Americans. And what
shall we call ourselves—the most impo tant part of tli's
whole country ? Here we arc led out of the even train
of narration, and are puzzled how to bring in our own
country. YVe cannot say we are United Srateians, but
have to bring out, we are the citizens of the United States.
We venture to assert that there is no reader that has
not felt this difficulty : but, as we are to look to custom
alone for the regulation of such matters, we can hardly
hope ever to have a short, concise, name whereby to
express our countrymen as contradistinguished from
Americans in general. Such a name would be anoth
er bond to link these States more firmly together; its
tendency would be to create a greater unity of interest,
and, above all, of feeling—a single tie that binds the
whole. There is much iij a name, when the name is
our Country's; there is more than magic in if, when
children of the same family meet abroad : it is the
passport to friendship, and to the heart, and is, #f itself,
protection. There is hardly a name sufficiently time
honored, and associated with our early history, that
could be made acceptable to all, and be brought into
general use —nevertheless, the subject, as we remarked
before, is a curious one, and calculated to enlist the at
tention of all; out of which, perhaps, something may
grow’. Ffedonia is a beautiful name —than whicht
none can be more expressive of w hat we need or de
sire ; and for it to be added to these United States, her
sons would, at least, avoid the disagreeable and awk
ward necessity of going n roundabout way to tell who
they are. To call ourselves Columbians would not an*
swer, for the reason of its general application, besides,
t he name suits better in Poetry than in prose transac
tions.
We have had the pleasure of examining the
“London Sun,” a paper containing a full account ofthe
coronation, with coronation anecdotes from the time of
William the Conqueror down to the present. It is print
ed in gold, and contains a splendid portrait ofthe Queen.
—We mention it as something of a curiosity. It was
handed us by Mr. Charles Collins.
The Stranger’s Fever.
The Charleston Courier of Wednesday last says
“No other consideration but that of the most severe
indisposition on the part of the editor of this paper, for
about ten days past, which brought him to Death s
Door, would possibly have prevented him from pre
viously announcing that the Strangers's Fever is now
prevailing in this city, to some extent, and from the
great number of persons now residents here who are
sul ject to its attacks, we conceive it a duty the City
Authorities owe to the people whom they govern, to
adopt such measures as may preserve the health of
such as have not been attacked, and caution strangers
not to visit us, until informed that they can do so wiih
oat peril. We have held no consultation with any one
on this subject. We have no desire to become alarm
ists; but we call on the Board of Health to aver or con
tradict this now current report.
Compend of News.
The ship Celia, recently arrived at Savannah, from
New-York, brought about (in,ooo dollars of the “real
grit" for the Bank ol the State of Georgia, and its
Branch in this city.—— By the death of commodore
Rodgers, commodore James Barron becomes the senior
officer of the United States’ Navy, wiih a salary of
83,500. The barque Derby, of Salem, was lost cn
Preble Island, in April, with 860 bbK whale oil on
board; crew saved. The Rsyal William steamer
sailed from New-York, on the sth, for Liverpool, with
thirty-five cabin passengers, and six thousand letters-
The steamer Milwaukie has been chartered by
the Government, forservice on the Upper Lakes.
“ Fireside Education,’,' ie the title of anew work from
the pen of Peter Parley, which is aboul to be published.
It is highly spoken of by those who have seen it.
A large Egyptian ship of war has been destroyed, by
fire, at Alexandria. Col. A. H. Pemberton, (for
merly editor of the Augusta Chronicle,) has issued pro
posals for publishing anew semi-weekly newspaper,
at Columbia, S. C Governor Gilmer has pardon
ed all the Cherokee Indians, twelve in number, con
fined in the Penitentiary, with a view to their cmigra-