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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-