Southern post. (Macon, Ga.) 1837-18??, July 06, 1839, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

FIOX A TRAVELLER IN El'ROrE. Parris, Sept 1,1833. THE FRENCH PRESS. Before visiting France, and Paris especially, I was quite unable to comprelicnd the actual condition of tl»e French Press. Tlie very frequent prosecutions instituted in bclialt of the government against tl*c publishers of newspapers here, led me to suppose, in com. moil with Americans generally who have not been here, that a censorship upon the press exists here to an extent that is most arbitrary, oppressive and unjust, and tnat, in truth, tlic boasted liberty of tho press in France is whol |y ideal, and in no wise a practical affair.— But, in being berc, I understand the subject very dilTercirfJy ; and l am fully persuaded that in no part of the world is the public press so chaste and elevated, as a general character istic, as in France, ami in no part of the world is it more free, or limited in tho rights and privileges of a free press. In point ol man ly, dignified and philosophical tone, the French newspaper press is a model from which not only England, but the United States, may eopv to very great advantage. And besides lliisj the French Government has instituted a law on the sulked of newspaper slanders that is far in advance of both the law nnd policy of England and of the United States. For instance, the proprietors of each journal or newspaper here arc compelled by law to in sert the reply of any individual whom-ty have been named or attacked in tlieir journal, (from the King dowu to the laborer,) under a penal, ty of from fifty to five hundred francs, without prejudice to any damages to which the article muv have given rise. This reply must be in sorted in the number of the day which follows the receipt of it, and without charge, unless the reply be more than double the length of the original article or paragraph, in which case it must he paid for as an advertisement. How much the American press would be improved if a similar summary and compulso ry method of obtaining a correction of its sdan ders existed there ? It is not true, as has been too generally sup posed, that the newspapers hero are restrained by a censorship from publishing whatever the proprietors of them may choose, either con cerning public or private individuals —con- corning Louis Pliillippe, the King, no less than concerning any of his subjects—but they pub. lish at the hazard and upon the responsibility of prosecution, in case they are unable to make out a good and satisfactory justification. It is only precisely so that the press is situa led in the United Stales. The difference in the condition of the press here nnd there, lies in this: the tempei of the people, public ofli cers ns well as others, is not so stoical and in different to newspaper calumnies here as in the United States ; and, as a consequence, few Lbels here escape prompt and merited prose cution. Prompt prosecutions uiid the certain, ty of punishment, discourage slander and vi tuperation. But in the United Stales, where few or no prosecutions of the kind occur, the reverse is most lamentably true. And there are probably more falsehoods, more downright, illiberal calumnies, published every year in the United States, concerning individ. uals, with the sole view of degrading them in public estimation, than there are of tiuths pub lished by the same presses, respecting either the same or all other individuals, with only ti e honest view of having such individuals fairly estimated by tire public. There the injured party is too busy to endure, or recoils at, the perplexity of prosecuting the slanderer ; and, of consequence, nine hundred and ninety-nine of such libellers in every thousand escape with impunity, and become emboldened in their vocation of defamation. It is in this way that the American People have become fumi li ar with one of the most icentious conditions of tlte piy.se that exists in the world. Still, swell licentiousness is no part of the freedom of the press —it does not appertain to a free press. Liberty, civil or political, does not consist of any right or privilege to inflict wrongs. On the contrary, if parties injured so unnecessarily in the United States by the press, would take upoa themselves the trouble and expense of punishing this licentiousness whenever manifested, the press in America would be no less free, in every rightful sense of that term, than it now is ; but it would be •chaste, wary, and elevated in its character, .as is tlie press here. It is by the system of prompt and spirited punishment of libeds that has prevailed, and still prevails here, as occa sion requires, that, of all the licentiousness ex isting in f'ranee, only the least degree attaches to the public press. There is another vety good requirement of law here, relative to the newspaper and peri odical press. Upon establishing a press of this description, “ caution money" is required ,to be deposited. If it be a daily pres3, 100, •GOO francs is the sum to be deposited ; and 60,000 francs if appearing more than once a month. For provincial journals,the “ caution money” is 23,000 francs, if published in towns of which the population amounts to or ex ceeds 50,000 souls. Upon these deposites a regulated interest is allowed. Journals of an exclusively scientific character are exempt from this requirement. Moreover, no journal car. be published until a declaration has been made of the title, and the periods at which it is to appear, of the names of the proprie'ors, their address, and the share they hold in it, with the name and address of the responsible editor, of the printing-house at which it will lie printed, and of some oilier formalities. All this serves to render the pi ess responsible, and to improve and elevate its condition and influ. encc. It may likewise lie remarked tint these pre cautionary measures, and rigor of public opin. ion, relative to tlte press here, do not, us some might erroneously argue without exact knowl edge of the facts, in any dog roe retard the publication, or lessen tlm number of newspu (>ers. News; »|>ers in France, in Paris espe cially, are probably as numerous as in any city of the world of like amount of pnpulu lalion. 1 will recapitulate an authentic ex hibit, which 1 have lately *oen, of tlte copies of daily sheets which aome of tlte establish ments litre circulate, viz. '1 he Vrcuc ctrcu. tales daily, 9,7 OO copies ; llw Steel* 11.660 ; •be Ikbult 9,106 ; the ('imaUtuUonnrl j the Gillette 5,000; tire Courtier 5.000 ; tin: 2,479 : the Qwoliditnii* It,lt'd ; tlie I National 3,333; the Journal General 1,450 ; the Commerce 3,100. The papers enumerated are but a portion of the periodical publications in this city. But, from the daily aggregate thus furnished, one may judge how much of n reading public the [French are, and how free the press here must be, in fact, to be perpetuated upon a scale so extensive. The expense of a daily paper here to subscribers, scarcely equals that of a corresponding publication in the United States. The Presse, or the Siecle, for instance, cost but 40 francs, or say $8 per annum. DEAN SWIFT. Swift’s misanthropy must have rendered him gloomy and disappointed ; but there was ano ther source; a worm was knawing at the bud of his greatness —a secret sorrow penetrated ihe core and blasted all his future peace. He might have forgolton or forgiven the downfall of his party, the exile of his new friends, and even the loss of an English Bishoprick, had not the names and destinies of Stella and Vanessa been inseparably entwined wth his being. These “ inborn stains” on his reputa tation can never be washed away, and the conscience of Dryden was at least free from such a pollution. Human nature has, per haps never before since presented the specta cle of a man of such transcendant powers in volved in such a pitiable labyrinth of the affec tions. His pride or ambition led Swift to post pone indefinitely his marriage with Stella, to whom he was early attached, whom, he said, “ he loved better than his life a thousand mil lions of times,” yet he kept her hanging on in a state of hope deferred, injurious alike to her peace and reputation. Did he fear the scorn and laughter of the world, if lie should marry ihe obscure daughter of Sir William Temple’s steward ? lie dared not afterwards, with manly sincerity,declare his situation to Vancssa when this second victim avowed her passion, fie was flattered that a girl ofeighteen, ol'beau ty nnd accomplishments, sighed for “ a gown of forty-four,” and he did not stop to weigh the consequence. Thus his first error led to one still more fatal, and “ Dire misfortune followed dose behind.” The removal of Vanessato Ireland, as Stella had gone befoA, to be near the presence of Swift—her irreprochable passion, which no coldness or neglect could extinguish—her life of deep seclusion, only cheered by the occasion al visits of Swift, each of which, with a pleas ing and graceful fancy, she commemorated by planting with her own hand a laurel in the garden where they met—her agonizing re monstrance when all her devotion and her offerings had failed are touching beyond ex pression. j “ The reason I write to jou,” shesays, “is | because I cannot tell it to you, should I see ;you. For when 1 begin to complain, the.i you are angry ; and there is something in your looks so awful, that it strikes me dumb, O ! that you may have but so much regard for me left, that this complaint may touch your soul {with pity! 1 say as little as ever I cun; did I you but ki ow what I thought, I am sure, it would move you to forgive me, and believe I cannot help telling you all this and live.” To a being thus agitated and engrossed with the strongest passion, bow poor, how cruel must have seemed the return of" Swift l j The tragedy continued to deepen ns it ap iproached to the close. Eight years had Vai.essa nursed in solitude the hopeless attach | ment. At length she wrote to Stella to ascer tain the nature of the connection betw'een her and Swift; the latter obtained the fatal letter, and rode instantly to Marley Abbey, the resi dence of the unhappy Vanessa. “A3 he entered the apartment,”to adopt the picturesque language of Scott, in recording the scene, “ the sterness of his countenance, which was pe culiarly formed to express the st l onger pi ssions struck the unfortunate Vanessa, with such terror that she could scarce ask whether he vvould not sit down. He answered by fling ing a letter on the table, and instantly leaving the house, mounted his lwr.se and returned to Dublin. When Vanessa opened the packet, she only found her own letter to Stella. It was her death-warrant. She sank at once un der the disappointment of the delayed, yet [cherished hopes which hud so long sickened her heart, and beneath the unrestrained wrath of him for whose sake she hud indulged them. How long she survived this latter interview is uncertain, but the time does not seem to have exceeded a few’ weeks. Even Stella, though ultimately married to j Swift, drop, ed into the grave without any pub lie recognition of the tie; they were married in secrecy in the garden of the deanery, when, on her part, all but life had faded away. Why do we recall these circumstances familiar to so many readers/ Simply, we suppose, because they are indelibly imprinted on the memory, land rise in the mind whenever swift is re membered. The fair sufferers were deeply avenged. But let us adopt the only charitable --perhaps the just inteipretation of Swift’s conduct: the malady which at length over j whelmed his reason might have been then | lurking in his frame—the heart might have felt its ravages before the intellect. A comparison jof dates proves that it was some years before Vanessa’s death that the scene occurred which has been related by Dr. Young, the author of the “ Night Thoughts.” Swift was walking with some friends in the neighborhood of Dub -lin. “Perceiving he did not follow us,” says Young, “ I went buck, and found him fixed as a statue, mid earnestly gazing up at a noble! elm, which in its uppermost branches was -much decayed. Pointing at it, he said, 4 1! shall be like that tree • 1 shall die at tire top.’ ” Truly and beautifully hath Scot said— 44 The stage darked ere the curtain fell.” Swift’s almost total silence during the last three years of his life (for tlte last year he spoke not n j word) appals and overawes the imagination. TltE YOUNG IDEA. Lord Uroughnm, in one of his works, de livers it as Ins dcldiei ate opinion, tlrnt 4 we learn more in the first six years of our life than af terwards, though we may live to a hundred.’ A QUESTION. What word is that n th * English language, tire first two letters of which signify s man ;, ! tire three first a woman ; the four first a great I n®n J and die whole a great woman? An- 1 steer, —Heroin*. THE SOUTIIE II N POST. SONG. WRITTEN IMPROMPTU —BY PARR BENJAMIN. How cold are they who say that Love Must first be planted in the heart, And cultured by the hand of Time, To make its leaves and blossoms start! No! 'tis a plant that springs at once Up to its full and perfect form ; Unlike the willow or the oak, It bends not, breaks not in the storm. How cold are they who say that Love Must, like the diamond in the mine. Be sought with cate and polished well Ere we can see its beauties shine ! No! in the soul's blue Heaven it springs, With beams that Age can never mar— Complete, eternal, brilliant, pure, As evening's first, rejoicing star! SHE IS THINE. She is thine—the word is spoken : Hand to hand, and heart to heart, Though all other ties are broken, Time these bonds shall never part. Thou hast taken her in gladness, From the altar’s holy shrine; Oh ! remember in her sadness, She is thine, and only thine. In so fair a temple, never Aught of ill can hope to come ; Good will strive, and striving ever, Make so pure a shrine a home : Each the other's love possessing, Say what care should cloud that brow. She will be to thee a blessing. And a shield to her be thou. ASSOCIATIONS. There’s not a heart, however rude. But hath some little flower To brighten up its solitude And scent the evening hour. There’s not a heart, however cast By grief and sorrow down. But hath some memory of the past To love and call its own. LESSON TO NEWSPAPER BORROWERS. [Time : Saturday morning,Bo’dk—Scene, tlie breakfast table. A rap is heard at the door, and the newspaper is for a few moments opened before the fire.] “Come John, it won’t do to dry it so long, for 1 see neighbor Snooks is sending his son after it.” Another rap at the door. “Fa ther wants to know if you will just lend him the paper five minutes, if you aint done with it j he will send it right hack. He only wants to see if the brig Star has been heard from what | our Tom went in.” “ Tell your father the brig is not reported.” Home he trips, and as speedily returns : “ Mother wants to know who was buried yesterday, can’t you lend it to her just two minutes.” “ Tell your mother that i all the deaths this week are Mr. , and a child of Mr. .” In a few moments ano ; ther tap —“ Sister Susan wants to know if any body’s married this wee k, and uncle Joe wants to know if there is any auction to-day, and father wants to know what the news is from Virginia, and aunt Snooks wants to know if there are any more pretty stories about that Jarvis woman—if you can’t spare the paper, why can’t you write down what there is—just cause I don’t want to keep running back and forward so”-—“ Here my lad, take this paper |to your father —and round to all your uncles i and aunts, and have it back, whatever is left of I it, next Sunday morning at 8 o’clock, precise ly, when you come to borrow the next.” Ten i applications on Siuidav by borrowers, all sent to tie ghbor Snooks, with a particular caution to return it there when done with. Monday morning, a tap at the door, and the boy with the paper is ushered in : “ Mother says it is too much plague to keep the paper all the week, people keep coming arter it so.” Portsmouth Journal. ANECDOTE OF GENERAL EATON. Gen. Eaton, soon after his arrival at Tunis as American consul, received a visit from the Spanish consul, attended by his confessor— Padre Antonio. Consul Eaton welcomed him by the apfellation of Sir, instead of the father ly title he claimed. The confessor took fire at this insult, and obstinately refused to repeat his visit At length the French consul gave a dinner for the purpose of having the Span iard’s dignity healed. The consuls of all na tions were present. Mons. Dubois broke the business. Consul Eaton, I have observed with some uneasiness that a coolness exists between you and Padre Antonio. I have observed a coolness, replied our consul, on ti e part of father Antonio, but I am unconscious of hav-j ing given him any cause of offence; 1 e may perhaps have quarrelled with my faith ! No, sir, replied the Catholic, when I was first in. Itrodueed at your house, you received me with the title of Sir: I claim the appellation of Father, in virtue of my holy office. General Eaton, piqued that the Spaniard should carry his punctilio to such an unchristian extreme, replied, Sir, I have too much regard for my mother to call you father ; but as you seem determined to claim a relationship, I have no objection to calling you uncle This raised the laugh against the Padre, and he very good naturedly after this took the title of uncle. There is a sweet and simple custom preva lent in Iceland, which marks the habitual de votion of its inhabitants. Whenever they leave home, though for a short journey, they uncover their heads, and for the space of five minutes, silently implore the protection and favor of tlie Almighty. Dr. Henderson, from whom this fact is derived, and who observed it in the lclandcrs who often attended him on his excursions, also remarked it in the humblest! fishermen when going forth to procure food for their families. After having put out upon the sea, they row the boat into quiet water at a short distance from the shore, and bowing tlrcir uncovered Ireads, solicit the blessing of their Futher in Heaven. Even at passing a stream, which in their country of precipices is often an operation fiaught with danger, they observe the same sacred custom. This of , tiecting habit of devotion has been imputed to the fact, that from their isolated situation, and i modes of life, tire mollrer is almost the only teacher, and Iter instructions seem to have be come incorporated with every clement of being. An American sailor made his escape during the war from the British prison-ship at Ber muda, and traversed the ocean, alone, in an o|ien sail-boat, to the Virginia shores, a dis tance of over 200 leagues. Thomas King, of Charleston, (S. C.) who had been captuted in the U. S. brig Vixen, by the Southampton frigate, was the hero of this exploit. He engaged a fellow prisoner to ac company him in the enterprize. A pocket compass was procured—some provision wus saved from their scanty allowance—and tlie prison-ship sail-boat, which was to be used, : iiad kegs of fresh water for ballast. The 4th i of July, 1813, the enterprize was determined on. When the evening arrived for putting the plan into execution, the heart of King’s , ooT/i vagnon de vo ace that was to be, failed ; him, he could not be induced to link his fate with that of his more resolute comrade in the ' little boat. But King, unappalled, though thus abandoned, determined to make the attempt alone. He got out of a port-hole in the eve ning of tlie 25th July, and swam to the boat, which was towing astern, got into it, cut the painter and drifted some distance, then made sail for old Virginia, where he arrived the 3d of August, landing on the beach, 10 miles to the South of Cope Henry, having been nine ■ days at sea. He went over land to Norfolk, where the boat was sold for his benefit. He was soon after appointed Master’s Mate in the Navy, as a reward for his daring conduct. Richmond Compiler. A real tragedy occurred a sow days ago at the Theatre in Louisville, in the case of a per former named Lowe, the particulars of which are thus related: On the evening in question lie represented a principal character in the drama of “French Spy.” During the first act lie was required to discharge a pistol at another character, and retreat in haste. The poor fellow fired his pistol, and diew a bayonet at the moment he commenced a retreat, looking back upon the person upon whom lie fired. W ith his counte nance turned to the rear, he ran against one of the scenes, the bayonett was forced into his body. He staggered from the stage and ex pired within twenty minutes. The scene is described as one of the most painful which could possibly be witnessed. The unfortunate man, with the dress, disguise and ludicrously painted face of low comedy, in tlie agonies of death, tlie frightful group gatliered around him and the play still proceeding upon the stage, formed one of the most singular spectacles which pen ever attempted to describe. From the N. O. Picayune. NEW DEFINITIONS. Pearl Diving. —Eating oysters in a cellar. Thoughts on. Matrimony. —A man reflecting on what a “ juddy” he made ofhimsilf by marrying a “ vidder” with an apparent large property, which was all in the hands of the sheriff". Recreation. —Loafers lying under the trees' in the public square, when the sun is at its j meridian. Talent. —A capability for small talk. Equality. —At the Arcade, where every man who pays a bitt for a julep can have one. D n Nonscnce. —Expecting to make a fortune by printing a village paper. Patriotism. —Petitioning for a place, and making a noise at elections. Sport. —Sitting all day on a log in tlie sun, watching your fishing line, and not getting “a bite” nfler all. Amusing. —To hear a woman “jaw” her “old man” who is as silent as a bronze statue of Bonaparte, and soothingly addressing two noisy, stubborn children whom she calls her “dear pets.” Smartness. —Giving impertinent replies to questions politely pul. Dangerous. —Not to draw your rnusquitto bar closely at night. A Vulgar Error. —For the editor of a paper to get married so long as le has any trouble in paying off his hands on Saturday night. Political. —“l say you, Sam Jonsing, does you know any ting about dis woman, Polly Ticks, dat white folks talk so much about ?” 44 Well, I doesn’t. You is too hard for dis child dis time.” 44 Wy, Sam, I tort you knowd every ting.” “So I does. I knows Polly Jones, wat sells coffee in de wegetable market, and I knows Polly Tomson wat does gwoin out to day’s work up in Canal street ; but when it comes to Polly Ticks Fs bodered. Guess you’d better ax white folks, Pete; dey ’pear to know all about her.” The following annecdote of Dr. Franklin is not generally known. Being in England in 1775, he was asked by a nobleman what would satisfy the Americans? He answered that it might be accomplished by a few re-asons —thus : ' -call your forces, -store Castle William, -pair the damages done to Boston, -peal your unconstitutional acts, -nounce your pretensions to taxes, Hg -fund the duties extorted after this, *) -quire and -ceive paym’tfor the destroyed tea.with the voluntary grant of thecolonies.and then -joice in a happy .-conciliation. what’s in a name. There is a firm in Boston which flourishes under the nomenclature of Neal and Pray. There is also one in Maidstone, (Eng.) which hangs up a sign to inform the render of tlie biblical fact that David Shot and Goliah Fell. An ancient philosopher says a beautiful wo. man is a perpetual hymn to the Deity ! What a sublime sentiment! An Irishman being asked which was the oldest, Ire or his brother, replied : 44 1 am tire oldest, but if my brother lives three years, we shsll both be of an sgc.” From the Philadelphia Gazette. POETIC GENIUS —ITS EFFECTS IN SCIENTIFC AND SOLID OCCUPATIONS. So far from poetic imagination being in any sense a hindrance to the judgement, it is a staunch supporter and aid. It is that which gives to powerful minds the ready apprehen sion ; the faculty of just, yet rapid analysis ; the subtle insight into the springs of motive, which leads so quickly to the door of truth ; the calm, yet sudden views of facts; that e are all characteristics of a truly poetic mind ; and what is better for a Judge? Those who have read the Novum Organum of Lord Bacon, know that that profound judge of the human intellect, classes the poetic faculty among the first and highest of the mind, as being the di vinest light, which can the quickest arm and guide the understanding; and Seneca and Cicero have both anxioms to a similar effect. In truth, so far from being dissociated from the business and bosoms of men in the mass, it is, in some manifestation or other, their moving and quickening spirit. It was imagination which enabled Fulton to plough the wave with his weltering wheels and resistless enginery ; which gave anew to Franklin the ferule of Prometheus, that caught the fire of heaven ; that filled the first factories with the hum of busy wheels, and cotton gins. It is in every sense an active, emulous, and useful spirit. There was never yet a successful merchant without lu's share of it, in some shape or other. Why does he send out his ventures, or make his prospective moves in trade? Because the inner eye looks beyond those outward ; assis s the judgement in its conclusions, and prompts the will to action. Never were there more princely merchants than the De Medicis of Florence—Cosmo, for instance, and Lorenzo, “ the magnificent.” Yet there is poetry in its most palpable shape connected with writings that sanctify their name. It was the crowning glory of that gneat English statesman, Canning, thafhis poetic faculty, at first openly exercised in bright and classic verse, at last stood him good stead arm'd tlie weight of eminent office, and deepest cares of state. In our owncoun try, we never heard that it did not show merit in a Daniel Webster, that he could write good verses, and fling gushes of poetry into his Con gressional "speeches, that thrilled the Ameri can bosom, as by a single nerve, as well as ex pound the Constitution in the Supreme Court of the Union, or plead the cause of States up on that sacred floor; nor have we deemed it other than a bright spot in the careerof Nicho las Biddle, when he exercised his mind in the production of genuine poetry, or as editor of a periodical, or writer of celebrated travels ; the faculty through which he then shone, has since appeared in equal though not superior lustie. That Fitz-Grcene Halleck owns the poetic faculty, has not done otherwise than aid his well-balanced understanding in the man agement as confidential partner and agent of the vast business of John Jacob Astor; nor does it appear that the concerns of the staunch Globe Bunk, of Boston, are other than most ably sustained in the official services of that arch-poet, Charles Sprague ; nor that Edit ard Everett makes a bad Governor of Massachu setts, because he writes good poetry. We might cite innumerable instances, but they are needless to sustain a point which every impor tant actor or event in commerce, in judicial life, or in art or science, since the days of Lord Bacon, has proved—namely, that his position was a right one, and his dictum strictly true TABLE-TALK OF COLERIDGE. The Earth, with its sacred face, is the sym bol of the Past; the Air and Heaven, of fu turity. Silence does not always mark wisdom. 1 was at dinner, some time ago, in company with a man, who listened to me, and said no thing for a longtime ; but he nodded his head, and I thought him intelligent. At length, to wards the end of the dinner, some apple dumplings were placed on the table ; and my man had no sooner seen them than he burst forth with—“ them’s the jockeys for me.” I wish Spurzheim could have examined the fel low’s head. The man’s desire is for the woman, but the woman’s desire is rarely other than for the de sire of the man. Some folks apply epithets as boys do in ma king Latin verses. When I first looked upon the Falls of the Clyde, I was unable to find a word to express my feelings. At last a man, a stranger to me, who arrived about the same time, said—“ How majestic !” It was the precise term, and I turned round, and was saying— “ Thank you, sir! that is the exact word for it,” —when he added, codcm jlatu — Yes, how very pretty.' It an inscription be put upon my tomb, it may be that I was an enthusiastic lover of the church ; and as enthusiastic a hater of those who have betrayed it, be they who they may. In my judgement, Bolingbroke’s style is not in any respect equal to that of Cowley or Dryden. Read Algernon Sidney; his style reminds you as little of books as of black guards. What a gentleman he was ! A woman’s head is usually over ears in her heart. Man seems to have been designed for the superior being of the two ; but as things are, I think women are generally better crea tures than men. They have, taken univer sally, weaker appetites and weaker intellects, but they have much stronger affections. A man with a bad heart has been sometimes saved by a strong head ; but a corrupt woman is lost for ever. , THE ARMY WORM IN IOWAY. By tlie Burlington Gazette of the Ist inst., we perceive that the army worm has com. menced its work of destruction in that neigh borhood. In many instance, whole fields of corn, oats, and wheat, are entirely lost. A gentleman, living in the vicinity of Burlington, states thut during one of the nights of last week, nn attack was made upon a field of oats belonging to him, and before morning a denr passage was made through it, for the width of six or eight feet, leaving scarcely a sjreur standing. The gentleinnn also stutes, that upon turning up a single spadeful of earth, Ire counted ninety worms. CONTEMPT FOR WOMEN. The ladies of the Bay State should vote the editor of the Boston Post a wreath of Ever green, for the gallantry displayed in the article m his paper, under the head of “ contempt for women.” “Os all the nuisances,” S a\s he “ that infest society, there is none so superla.’ lively unbearable to every person whose men." tal equilibrium has not been entirely destroy' ed, as that class of men who entertain or pro fess to entertain, a contempt for women, and', who let pass no opportunity to express’their opinions, the very formation of which, should! be to them a source of shame.” W e agree' most decidedly in tlie estimate which the Post puts upon the character of the snarler at the “gentler portion of God’s creation.” How I often do we see the insolent shrug of the shoulders, or hear the damning inuendo pro ceed from the lips of some snarler at female purity, when the being created to “ give to earth a solace here,” passes before him ; and what man possessing the fir,t and holiest feel ings which inspire almost veneration for the : sex, does not feel a disposition to strike into' nonenlitity, the leviler of her who has been aptly called “the rainbow to the storms of life.” We have seen such, and wu always look upon them with a disgust bordering upon loathing. They are not fitted to enjoy this world’s pleasures and delights, and surely will be out of place in the association of angels hereafter, unless tliey should be fallen ones'! SELECT SENTENCES OF BISHOP HALL. He is a rare mao who is not w ise in his own conceit, and that says not within himself, I see more than my neighbors. A ambitious man is the greatest enemy to himself; he tormciAs himself with hopes, de. sires and cares, which might be avoided, and he would live quietly. Up to twenty-one, I hold u father to have power over his children as to mairinge, after that age, authority and influence only. Show me one couple unhappy merely on account of their limited circumstances, and I will show you ten who are wretched from other causes. * Milton's Latin style is, I think, better and easier than his English. His style in prose is quite as characteristic of him as a philoso phic republican, us Cowley’s is of him as a first rate gentleman. 1 never had, and never could feel, any hor ror at death, simply as death. Good and bad men are each less than they seem. Hooker said, that by looking for that in the Bible, which, is impossible that any book can have, we loose tlie benefits which we might reap fiom its being the best of all books. From the New York Spirit of the Times. RIFLE SHOOTING IN GEORGIA. Some time since we mentioned a splendid rifle made to order by Harrington of this city, at a cost of SSOO, for Dr. David Shelton, of Talbotton, Ga. Dr. S. was to shoot a heavy match this spring, of which the particulars were promised ; whether it lias already come off"or not we are ignorant, but we have received a letter signed by tw o gentlemen of Talbotton, giving an account of two targets recently made by Dr. S. which, if correct, (and we have no reason to question their veracity,) will deter us, at any rate, from shooting a match with him for any thing over a basket of Heid sick. Here is the report: Talbotton, Talbot Cos. Ga. May 22, 1839. Dear Sir: —We saw Mr. David Shelton, »f this town, shoot at the distance of One Hundred yards at rest, ten balls in succession, which made but one hole, the puncture farth est from the centre measuring three quarters of an inch, nnd weight of barrel 251bs; six feet twist and four feet long, with but five small scores. The same gentleman, at the distance of One Hundred yards, with a rifle carrying 54 balls to the pound, six feet twist, four feet long, and weighing twenty pounds, about five balls in succession, the first driving the centre, and the whole five making but one hole. Yours Respectfully, PHILO BROWNSON. HENRY TAYLOR, WANTED TO RENT, A HOUSE of four or more rooms, with a Gar den attached to the premises, in a central part of the city. Apply at this office. June 29 36 DR. RANDOLPH, of this City, and DR. W. C. FULL WOOD, late of the Army, have connected themselves in the practice of medicine, &c. and prof fer their services to the citizens of Macon and vicinity. June 29. 36p INSURANCE. MARINE, Fire and Life Risks taken by the un dersigned, Agents of the Western Insurance & Trust Company. E. A. &. J. A. NISBET. June 29 36e CAUTION. ALL persons indebted to the firm of CLARKE & SMITH, are forbid settling any accounts of said firm without my consent. E. E. BROWN is my au thorized Agent during my absence from the city. CHARLES L. SMITH. June 22 35 DISSOLUTION. rfIHE Copartnership heretofore existing under the X firm ol CLARKE &. SMITH, is this day dissol ved by mutual consent. THOMAS B. CLARKE, CHARLES L. SMITH. June 22 35 Georgia Female College. THE Examination of the Pupils of this Institution will commence the 22d and close the 26th July next. Parents, guaidians, and the friends of Femala Education, are respectfully invited to attend. June 15 34 W. COWLES, HAS this day received a fnsh supply of FANCY - GOODS, consistinc of Nett and Greriadem | Shawls, Scarfs, and Handkerchiefs; Muslin and Lace ; Capes and Collars, Black and Lead Colored Grenadeni I Silks, do. do. Lawns, Fmicy French Drillings,_a great vnriely of Gloves and Hosiery, Gentlemen’s Summer i Slocks, &,c. June 29. 3* Tin, Sheet-Iron and Copper-Ware MANUFACTORY. Ciii*ti*< IC. I'araoiiH, (•Successor to Janu-s H. fluhop ij- Cos.) riNAKES this method to inform the citizens of Me* -1 con, and surrounding country, that he has la bh died himself at ihe old stand, (occupied by his pre decessors,) on the east side of Mulberry-street, l«*j doors strove iln- Darien (lank, wliere he will furnish •“ kinds of TIN WARE, by wholesale or retail, •* mo derate prices, and in every variety. All orders promptly intended to. „ Macon, May ISth, 1*99 *>