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unsuspectingly Ixmght some. She bail
eaten them; they contained poison; and
death was fast overtaking her. At this
terrible information Hasson's firmness
gave way; he groaned heavily; lie fell at
his wife’s feet and bathed them with tears.
Brahim, who, attracted by his lamentation
had entered the tent, learnt the dreadful
news, and endeavoured, by administering
large draughts cl asses’ milk, to relieve
his daughter from the torment she was suf
fering. But Kaddour had chosen his poi
son 100 well—it had taken too deep a root
for any remedy to avert its effects. Two
hours of indescribable torture, and Baia
was dead !
Hussan hurried the distracted Brahim
from the tent, and remained during the
whole night with the remains of bis well
beloved. The next day he saw that the
horrible words written at the threshold of
the lent had been effaced, anil others sub
stituted. They ran thus—‘Have 1 struck
justly?’
The body of Baia was, according to
custom, enveloped in her wedding clothes
by women of her tribe, and a sort of cra
dle was made to receive it of palm leaves.
The corpse was borne by friendly hands
to the place of sepulture. A wcepingcrowd
of relations and friends followed. On
their arrival, the remains were placed near
the grave, and four Arabs <! them
selves towards the four points of llie com
pass, exclarned, ‘Sonsof Beni-Smiel,alas !
alas! Know that Baia, the daughter of
Brabini-ben-Zaragout, is dead.’ To this)
the mourners responded with deep groans.
The pit was deep*and broad, and at the
bottom a farther depth was dug just wide
enough to receive the deceased. The bo
dy was lowered, and several large stones j
were placed over it, their edges resting
on the brinks of the actual grave. The
immencc pit was then filled up, and se
veral large flat stones were placed up
right on the surface to indicate that the
place was sacred—hallowed by the re
mains of a human being.
The crowd now withdrew to Hassan’s
tent, where a repast in honor of the dead
awaited them. It consisted of goat’s milk
cheese and cakes soaked in oil and but
ter —which are .always eaten on such oc
casions. After all the guests had drank
coffee, each out of the same cup, they se
parated.
Hussan, absorbed by a terrible hope of
revenge—which only relieved his one hit
ler grief—set out next day unattended for
the mountains. He had been directed to
a valley where Kaddour often hunted.
Thither lie repaired, and passed a month.
By night he enveloped himself in his bur
nous, and slept under a tree; by day he
concealed himself in a spot which com
manded a view of the whole valley', which
was of immense extent. There, immova
ble as the rock against which he leant,
did he wait for his enemy, with that pa
tience whiehthe hopeofvcngence inspires
in the breast of an Arab. Once, and only
once, during that time did he perceive
Kaddour, at a very great distance, much
too great to enable him to reach his perfi
dious enemy.
One morning Ilussen espied a horseman
in the valley ; his eyes, sharpened by the
instinct of hatred, recognised Kaddour,
who was advancing by a narrow pathway
which wound along the side of the moun
tain. This road was well chosen; for be
ing completely open and unsheltered, ii
afforded a view of every tiling around. In
a single spot, however, at a little distance
from the path, there grew several shrubs,
amongst which it might be possible for
an enemy to conceal himself.
A transient smile played upon Ilassan’s
lips, the first which had passed over his
countenance since the burial of his wife.
He examin 'd his gun, charged it, and
crept stealthily among the bushes. Lean
ing patiently against a branch, ho raised
bis gun ready, when the right moment
should come, to fire. Kaddour advanced
towards the thicket, and stopped within a
short distance of it to scrutinize every leal
but as nothing occurred to excite suspi
cion, he continued his route. Hassan took
deliberate aim at his onem}', and fired.
Kaddour fell. The ball which had bro
ken bis arm near the shoulder, obliged
him to relinquish the hold of his gun;
but raising himself by a desperate effort,
lie endeavoured unsuccessful!}' to draw
out his pistol. Hassan in one bound stood
bclbre him,and seizing him round the body
threw him upon the earth, and undoing
his own belt, bound bis victim tightly ;
whilst Kaddour, foaming with rage in his
teeth gnashing from the effects of pai i, of
fered but a vain resistance. Intoxicated
with the savage joy that vengeance gives,
Hassan placed his foot upon the breast of]
his prostrated enemy. He showered bit- !
ter taunts on him, and repeated the words
which were written on the sand on the:
morrow of the death of Baia.
‘And I, also, have 1 struck justly ? Kad
dour, be your own judge. It is j’ou who
have killed my wife; it is you who have
killed my child; it is you who have con
demned me to everlasting misery. What
vengeance have you notprepared for your
self! But Allah he praised, he has given
you up to me in the state I could most have
desired. Oh, Baia! Brahim! my child!
you shall all be avenged !’
The Arab of the tribe of the Gcafera
made no answer, but began to recite his
prayers.
Hassan, with his head leaning upon his
hand, was seated near Kaddour; he was
reflecting upon the kind of death which
he iuiended to inflict upon his enemy.
Fixing his eyes upon him, he seemed to
1 told a conversation with himself, for his
lips moved; sometimes he shook his head,
as making a negative sign; at others a
smile of contentment passed over his face.
At length he rose, and drawing from his
pnrse, of the form nf a portfolio, a piece
of money enveloped in a cloth, he show
ed it to Kaddour, saying, ‘Do you recol
lect this coin V
The Arab was silent.
I ‘Well,' continued lie, ‘it is the same
piece of money with which you impriuted
your hatred upon my flesh. Look how
j well the mould of it adapts itself to the
wound. One of us shall die, said you :it
iis you. However, what had 1 done to
you to incur your hate? W hat had Baia
done to you ? What had my child done
to you ?’ The voice of Hussan was mnv
jed in pronouncing these words. Then
he resumed in a different tone, ‘At last I
have you in my power!’
Hussan assembled three stones, gath
ered some brambles, and placing some
dried moss upon a pebble,obtained a light
by striking it with the back of his blade.
The lire was communicated to the moss,
then to the brambles of the hearth, upon
which be now placed the piece of money.
‘Coward!’ cried Kaddour, ‘kill me
quickly.
‘Kill you quickly ! oh ! no, no. Baia
and my child did you kill them quickly?
All ! on the contrary, why cannot l make
your tortures last as long as my grief?’
ft could only distress the reader to pur
sue the details of Hassan’s revenge. Suf
fice it to stale that he exercised all the re
finement of cruilty which half-civilised
nations know so well how to practise, mai
ming his limbs, searing his eyeballs with j
the burning coin, &c. thus destroying the;
lifeofliis victim siowly, and rejoicing over j
every expression of despair and suffering
which was wrung from him. li was only j
when death bail ended the ferocious rap-j
ttires of the one, and the agonies of the
other, that Ilnssan-mil id, leaving the ho- i
<1 v a prey to the beasts of the desert. Hi
mounted his horse, and directed his course
northward, readied Oran, where he en
tered the ranks of the French. He is now
serving amongst the irregular spaliis, or
i native cavalry.
Graxdilouuknce.— ‘ Twas night !—j
The stars were shrouded in a veil of mist;
a cloudy canopy overhung the earth ; the
vivid lightnings flashed, and shook their
fiery tresses in the face of heaven ; the deep
toned thunder rolled along the vaulted sky ;
the elements were in wild commotion ; the
storm howled in air, the wind whistled : the
iiail stones fell like a shower of pearls ; the
huge undulations of the ocean dashed upon
the rock-bound shore ; torrents leaped from
the mountain tops; in short, it was a night
awful beyond imagination, and Adolphus
Leopold sprang from his couch with ven-j
gennee stamped upon his biow, wonder in
his heart, and the fell instrument of death in
his hands. The storm increased ; the light-,
nings flashed with a brighter glow; the
thunder grow led with a deeper energy ; the
Wind whistled with .»wilder fury ; the con
fusion of the hours was congenial to his
soul and the stormy passion that raged in
his bosom ; he clenched his weapon with a
sterner grasp ; a demoniac smile gathered
on his lip ; he grated his teeth, raised his
arm, sprang with a fearful yell oi triumph
on his victim, and relentlessly murdered a
bed-bug.
Thf. Cura Ladies. —Whilst the cur
tain’s down, mac/ure Henrietta, you will
pardon my looking round at the new faces
about me. What a contrast to the fair com
plexions I have just left behind tne ! Here
is every shade of brown, but set off with
such fine dark eyes, glowing and flashing,
that one is half afraid to look at them.—
Black httir and eye-brows finish the por-j
trait, that is decidedly one of Southern
growth. 1 feel timid in giving first impres-J
sions where unfavorable; but I found the!
(be toilette of (lie ladies generally bad. It
] tvas mostly French ; but their dresses were
jiff made, though oftlie richest material, and
had an ugly effect. I observed they wore
jno stays, and this gave a very sacklike ap
pearance to their bodies, tied round as they
were with a string. The Havana ladies are
i full to stoutness, falling, indeed, under the
suspicion of fatness, which comes of their
taking so little exercise—a sacrifice they
willingly make to preserve the beauty of
their small feet, most ludicrously dispropor
tioned to the superstructure above. Their
hands are pretty, and in public are most ac
tively occupied with their fans, which they
open and shut with a coquetry quite seduc
tive. It is odd so much grace can be dis
played in a tiling so slight.—[ Fanny Els
sler at the Havana.
Shooting by Accident. —‘ Plnise your
lordship’s honor and glory,’ repled Tim, 1 1
shot the hare by accident.’ ‘By accident,’!
remarked Captain O’Halloran. *By acci
dent,’ continued the postillion. 1 1 was fir
ing at a bush, and the beast ran across mv
aim, all of his own accord.’ The game
keeper tells a different story,’ replied his
lordship. * Och ! don’t put faith in what
that man says,’ said Titn Ryan, ‘ when he
never cares about speaking the truth any
how. He tould me t’other day, yer lordship
was not so fit to fill the chair of justice as a
jackass !’ * Ay, ay,’ exclaimed Viscount i
Kilskiddery.’ ‘ Indeed, and what did you
say /’ ‘ Blaise yer lordship, I said yer lord
ship was.’
Light Coin.— ln the autumn of the
year 1660 Elizabeth’s great and glorious
measure of restoring the English currency!
|to sterling value was carried into effect.— \
“ A matter, indeed, weighty and great,” says
Camden, “ which neither Edward VI. could
nor Mary durst attempt, since Henry VIII.
was the first King that caused copper to be
mingled with silver, to the great disgrace of
the kingdom, damage of his successors and
people, and a notable token of his excessive
expense, since his father had left him more
wealththan any other king ever left his suc
cessors, and likewise he had drawn abund
ance of money by means of tribute and ini- 1
posts, besides all the revenues, gifts, and
goods belonging to the monasteries.” This j
mighty and beneficial change was effect!
by the enlightened policy of Elizabeth, and
without causing the slightest inconvenience
or distress to individuals. The old money
was called in, and every person received the
nominal value of the base coin, in new ster
ling money, and the Government liore the
loss, which was, of course, very heavy, but
the people were satisfied, and their confi
dence in the good faith and honor of the
crown richly repaid this great sovereign
for the sacrifice. She strictly forbade melt
ing or trafficking with the coin in any way;
a precaution the more necessary, inasmuch
as the silver was better and purer in Eng
land, during her reign, than in full two hun
dred years before, and than any that was us
ed in any oilier natiou of Europe in her own
. time.
POLITIC A L.
From the Rielinioii.i Enquirer.
VIVE LA BAGATELLE.
The Plot — The two Clmjt /
(Let us strip the recent correspondence
ofiill iis verbiage, and compress its sub
stance into a nutshell. It might run thus:
(T7*Of course, this is our own version of
the genuine letters. We might fancy
the parties concerned, to write as follows:
just as Rousseau or Richardson wrap up
the plot of their Novels in the form ol let
ters :
No. I.— Cassius M. Clay to 11. C/mj.
Lexington, Aug. 1, 1844.
My Dear Sir :—I shall set out tomor
row on a mission for your benefit. I
shall visit the Abolitionists of Ohio, New
England and New Y>rk, and attempt to
persuade them that you will be a bet
ter man fi>r tin ir purposes than Birney.
I shall doff my bmvie knife and duelling
pistols, and appear as the missionary of
I liberty and religion. You know that six
years ago, I was the advocate of the An
nexation of Texas, and brought forward
the strongest resolutions to that effect—hut
no matter. 'Tout ccla se change! I must
now appear the opponent of Texas and of
Slavery.— My mission is a difficult one—
but who will not encounter any sacrifices,
you know, lor the good of his country and
his friend ?
Ever yours, C. M. C.
No. 2.- —//. C. tn C. M. C.
Ashland, Au, 2. 1844.
My dear Cassius: —Heaven speed your
| generous endeavours. But subdue your
I impetuosity of temper and he prudent,
; I am afraid you cannot prevail on your
tricuds ol Liberty to vote for tne —and we
j must not lose our iriends in the South, in
the effort to make new ones in the North.
That, you km w would lie playing a lo
sing game. Take care!
Faithfully yours, 11. C.
No. 3.— C. fff. Cloy, to Col. J. J. Speed
of Ithaca.
Columbus, Ohio, Aug. 15, 1844.
Dear Sir: —l have commenced mv po
litical tour. lam determined to do all 1
can to elect 11. Clay- 1 will write lor
him, speak for him, light lor Inm. I shall
visit some of the Abolitionists in this Slate
—theme to Buffalo, anil thence to Boston
where I shall meet Webster and Barrien,
and preach a Holy Crusade for the Whig
cause. You know, l wrote you on the
iOtli July, from Lexington, that 1 was
‘‘not idle, and that my correspondence
both Whigs and Liberty men was exten
sive.” I beg leave to remind you oftlie
Inflowing extract in my letter: “I regard
no aristocracy in Europe so coereeive ami
ant i-Republican as Southern slave-holding
The North is equally implicated in this
tyranny, over master as well as slaves.
The Whigs must runic up to this high
ground, or fall, and their fall w ill not he
regretted by coming generations. Jf you
cannot have my services, you can have
i those of a greater. Seward is a name that
j New York may well he proud of. Call
him into the field. Such a man leading
the Whigs must triumph. To succeed
I when such a man is not a (it leader, brings
I no success at which a lover oftlie princi
| pies of’76 can rejoice. Let the Wliigs of
the North put the battle on its true basis,
anil fight it bravely—on one side, Polk,
Slavkrv, and Texas— on the other, Clay
Union ami Liberty. If we cannot beat on
such issues, then let us full—and, in our
fall, we will he remembered by the goo I
forever. Can it be possible, that while
Mr. Clay some three or four Slave States,
w hich were sure to him before, by oppo
sing Texas, that there is not sufficient
spirit of freedom, honor, and good faith
in the North, to carry those large States,
where his success was before doubtful?
[Clay, and his friends, have taken high anci
holy ground. We must raise the war
cry, soul stirring, as the great questions
at issue, are expansive anil lasting in their
consequence, for good or evil. With Mr.
Polk’s election, Texas comes in—with
Texas, the North and South are inevitably
split—and away goes the fruits, to us here
at least, oftlie American Revolution. It
iis in vain to put off the evil day. It is at
hand now’. Slavery or Liberty is to lie
determined, in some sort, this coming e
lection—not the liberty of the black only,
but of the white also. Ido not mean to
say Mr. Clay is an Emancipationist, but
I believe his feelings are with the cause. I
know that those most immediately within
his influence, approximate to myself, in
j sentiment, upon the subject of Slavery.
The great mass of Whigs are, orought to
he, anti-slavery.”*
Under this banner I mean to fight du
ring my whole pilgrimage to the North. I
shall appeal to the Wlrigs, as if they were
anti-slavery. I shall appeal to the Abo
litionists, as if they could only vote for a
Whig candidate. I hope you have smoo
thed the way for my advent in New York
and New England, by publishing my let
ter of 10th July, in my friend Greely’s
Tribune.—God be with you and yours!
C. M. C.
! ‘This extract is no Fiction. It is tnkenfrom the
genuine Letter of Cassius JH. Clav toSpeed ofll
j liaca as published in the “New Yoik Tribune.”
| No. 4.—.7. Syecd Smith, of Kentucky, to H.
Cloy.
August 20,1840.
My ihor Sir —C. M. Clay is playing the
deuce with us. His letter to J. J. Speed
of Ithica, is published in the Tribune, and
is producing a storm in the South. Pity
it is, that we have but one game to play ;
and that what is meat in the North is poi
son in the South. Bat so it is! Your
friends begin to grumble about C. M. Clay,
and to vow that they cannot support you
if you hold such doctrines. Why, sir, his
letter has already done us irreparable in
jury in Tennessee, North Carolina and
Georgia. It even endangers Kentucky.
|To go against Texas, as you have done,
is hud enough—and your bulletins 2 and
10, though they have mystified the natives
about the precise character of your Ra
leigh letter, yet they cannot break the
force of Cassius’s foolish revelations. Do
something—give us some veil to throw
over his blunders, or all will be lost in the
South. Yours, ever, J. S. S.
No. 5.— 11e/try Clay to Mr. Jl’ickliffc, (Edi
tur of the Lexington Observer.)
Ashland, Sept. 2.
Sir: Please do me the favor to state,
fin itic satisfaction of my friends and the
public in general, that 1 cannot sanction
Mr. C. M. Clay’s ltliica letter. That “let
ter was written without my knowledge,
without any consultation with me, and
without any authority from me. J never
sasv it until l read it in the public prints.
That gentleman is an independent citizen,
having a perled light to entertain and
avow his own opinions. lam not respon
sible Ibr them, as he is not for mine. So
far ns he ventures tn interpret iny feelings,
he has entirely misconceived them. 1
believe him to he equally mistaken as to
those in the circle of my personal friends
and neighbors generally.”
1 need not say any luing in relation to
what Mr. C. M. C. says of Texas. My
opinions on that subject are clearly put
Ibrth in the three letters I have already
written about it--:unl I sincerely trust, I
shall not have to write a Iburtli letter to
explain my three first.
Yours, respectfully, 11. C.
No. G.— ll. Clay to C. M. Clay.
[Confidential.]
Ashland, Sept. 8, 1844.
My dear Cassius: I owe you an apology
for the letter I have just publicly addross
ed to Wicklille. I seize lire ojqioriunitv,
(which I desired, of a remark made by
the Kentucky Gazette,) to come before the
public, and do away some of the unfavor
able. impressions, which your letter has
made in the South. You have gone too
far. After all, as I wrote you at first, 1
am “afraid” we shall not he able to pro
pitiate these dogged Birney men —as poor
Slade like to have lilt to his cost in Ver
mont —and yet we are losing Iriends to
the Smith. J. Speed Smith has written
me an alarming letter, about the disa flec
tions which you have created in Tennes
see, Georgia and North Carolina—and
even in our own loyal Kentucky. And
what was 1 to do? I had to risk some
thing—even among the abolitionists, and
still more with you—and I wrote the lit
ter you may have c rcn to rid me of my
embarrassments. You must, therefore,
excuse me for w hat l have done. I could
not get on, without some such explana
tion—though 1 was exceedingly puzzled
what to say. Yet I trusted to my usual
tact, and now throw myself upon vour
kindness lor mv excuse. I know your
friendship, as well as vour devotion to the
Whig cause—and hope that nothing I
have said w ill cool your ardor, or abate
vour excit ions. Goon, ti.y ileai Cassius
—serve vour country, and serve me. No
one expects more from your efforts than
Yours, faithfully, H. C.
No. 7.— 11. Cloy to the. lion. I Villxs Green,
( General Agent <f the Wltigsat Washington.)
Ashland, Sept. 18,1844.
Dear G —: I put under cover for
Cassius, a private letter, which you will
lie kind enough to send to him, when you
ascertain his address. It is to do away
any unkind impressions which he may
have conceived from my la'e letter in
Wickliffc’s paper—and nerve him still
further Jor the pilgrimage on which lie
has so nobly entered.
I also enclose you for our loyal follow
ers, Gales and Seaton, a letter which is
intended for the public eye. I believe it
is time lor toe to stop writing for the Press.
I ought not to have begun it—hut really
I could not well withstand the itch for
notoriety, and moreover, I hoped to re
move some prejudices, and gain some
votes by writing first to one part of the
country what would please them—and
then to another, what might better suit
its own latitude. I fear, however, that 1
ha\e rather overdone the thing—and be
gin to believe, that our friend Harrison
was not so lar out, when he appointed a
Committee ol Three, to write for him, or
not to write for him, as they might think
most expedient. 1 find it was a very em
barrass.ng office 1 had undertaken. In
pleasing one set you arevery apt to offend
another—as you will recollect about the
unhappy man, who was carrying his ass
to market, and found to his cost, that there
was no pleasing every body at once, and
finally lost his ass in the bargain. My
friends to have remonstrated against my
loquacity, and hinted something about
their not supporting me, if I continued to
make such a fool of myself. So l believe
1 will write no more—at least for the pub
lic eye—intending, of course, to make up
by the number of my private epistles for
the want of public letters.
I hope you will like this hist public let
ter which I enclose you. 1 have weighed
it well, and from what Cassius writes me
and other of my friends in the North, I ex
pect that I had rather overdone the busi
ness in my last letters—thrown myself too
much on the Southern side of the saddle,
! and excited the jealousies and doubts of
! the abolitionists. 1 have, therefore, de
termined, as a last resource, to go hack to
Imy first love—the Raleigh letter—and to
remove all apprehensions on their parts,
that the weathercock might change again
1 have declared that this is my last letter.
If necessary, 1 can write ptivate letters to
my friends to remove their doubts, and
please their capricious tastes.
I should have been glad to have brought
! into this last letter some explanations a
hout my positions on the tariff'. But lam
in such a snail upon that question, that it
is better for me not to touch it again 1
hope my letter to Gen. Miller is sufficient.
The d—l’s in it, if lie is not satisfied with
my pledging myself to go the whole for
the present Tariff-—without rcjieal or any
modification. My cotisienee does now
and then twinge tu« about this cursed
Compromise law—for, Imw am I to get
over the high and oppressive rates oftlie
Tariff'of’42? I know I was pledged but
a few months ago to the people of Char
leston, as a man of honor, to adhere to
the act of ’33 in good faith. I know as
well as Andrew Stewart does, that its
minimum principle especially trrmples
the Compremise law under foot—and as
Rives said, that it is even worse in sever
al respects than the act of'2B, and that it
entirely loses sight of the Compromise. I
know, that this Compromise act of 20 per;
cent, cl city in cash, on the home valuation,
amounting to near 26 per cent. —along
with freight, commission, &c. at about 154
will run up the protection to near 414 per
cent, on the cost of the manufactures in
England—being two-fifths oftlie value of
the article in the British market, and
that if the manufacturers cannot get on
without that advantage, it would only show
w’e were not ripe for that species of goods.
But it is sufficient protection, as I said at
the time, and I repented in my Hanover
Speech in 1840. 1 know, as well as any
Loco Foco slangw hanger, that under the
2d section of the act, what the rabid Me
ilary says is true, that “the poor man who
buys cotton for a shirt worth live nails
per yard, by the unjust provisions of the
iaw, has it valued at 20 cents per yard, &
actually pays a tax four times greater on
the square yard, than the man who buys
the finest article he can procure —and a
gaiti : that calico, which costs fifteen cents
the squsrcyard, is valued as though it cost
twice that amount, and the lax charged
accordingly; that velvets, See. though they
cost but 15 or IS cents pi r yard, is taxed
as if lhey cost 3-3 cents, &o. —Let the in
justice and inequality of this be as appa
rent” as it may, I must abide bv the Tar
iff’of’42. 1 cannot go hack to the com
promise. If “Honor (as honest Jack says)
pricks me on”—my ambition pricks tne off'’
“therefore, I’ll none ol it: II mor is a mere
escutcheon, and so ends my catechism.”
I must not offend the Abolitionists about
Texas, nor the extravagant Protectionists
about the Tariff—and 1 must leave it to
Clayton to sophisticate the subject, and
try to answer Ben Howard, and recon
cile all my speeches, letters and sayings
on this question—whilst I seal my lips ibr
the future. Yours faithfully,
11. C.
.VO. 9. — IF. Green to 11. C!ay.
IFashington, Oct. 4.
My dear Sir: Your public letter is pub
lished, but the oilier cat’s out of the bag.
Some rascai.y Lncofoco lias got bold of
your private letter to Cassius, and made
it public too. Oh ! how they will squib
us—and laugh at ns ; and turn the letters
into comic rhymes, or prosaic parodies.—
But though it is a very unlucky affair, yet
we must make the best of it by saying
nothing about it. Not a word must appear
in the papers about this private letter—
and we must be more careful hereafter, in
conducting our confidential correspond
ence. 'The skies are rather overcast in
Pennsylvania ami New York—but we art
working the wires as well as we can—
anil my pen is continually dipped in the
ink, for franking and citcululing docu
ments by the bushel.
Yours, See. \V. G.
N. B. We hope it is unnecessary to say
again, that the preceding correspondence
is all I adinage. There is no Roorback
ism about it. 'The letters are avowedly
fictitious, and in fun. No more, ’pon
honor.— [Eityui/er.
CE\Y OK A.VYIfX tTIOTt.
“On which side, my lord ?” “On which
side you say'/ Why on all sides; l hold
all opinions—my principles are satisfactory
to every body, but I charge yc, be cautious
in the canvass, and commit me not on bran
dy to a drinker of malt, nor on malt to a
drinker of brandy.”—[• >ld Comedy.
THE LAST SHIFT.
The vindictive and scurrilous attack on
Dr. Capers, in the editorial columns of the
Christian Advocate and Journal of the 9th
instant, is beneath the notice of all decent,
not to say Christian men. It is a melan
choly exhibition of hatreds which have been
festering for some time, of vindictiveness
such as old men very seldom feel. In its
coarseness, it exceeds any llting which we
have ever seen from the pen of Dr. Bond.
There is but a single point in the whole
diatribe which requires any comment front
us; and this, we feel called on, in the ab
sence of Dr. Capers, to bring to the atten
tion of our readers. Dr. Bond charges
Dr. Capers with carrying on negociatious
with the Hon. the Secretary of State, for
the joint purpose of affecting a dissolution
of the United States, and of the Method
list Episcopal Church. He represents Dr.
iCapersas having resorted to Mi. Calhoun
for counsel, and as exhorting the Method
ists of the South to obey the “ dictation”
of that eminent statesman.
Now we take the liberty to pronounce
the foregoing charge an utter falsehood ;
a calumny destitute of proof, foundation,
or probability. Dr. Capers has had no
personal interview with the Secretary of
State, on any subject whatever, either at
or since the General Conference. No ne
gociations of any kind have been carried
on between tlie parties; no advice lias
been asked, no dictation volunlecied; no
such plot as that announced by Dr. Bond
has had any existence, save in the disor
dered imaginings of a mind which must
be verging on insanity. If the ridiculous
ness of the calumny is not a sufficient ref- j
illation, we give the whole story an un
qualified and positive denial.—[So. Chris
tian Advocate.
Saws.— The following are a few of the
common or popular proverbial “ saws” re
lative to the weather, viz :
“A rainbow in the morning gives the
shepherd warning.”! That is, if the wind be
easterly : because it shows that the rain
clouds are passing away.
“Evening red, and next morning grey,
are certain signs of a lieuutiful day.”
“ When the glow worm lights her lamp,
the air is always damp.”
“If the cock goes crowing to bed, He’ll
certainly rise with a watery head.
the republic.
“ Government derives its just pincers not from
tne authority of Hitlers, but from the consent of
the governed.”
MAC OS, OCTOBER 25, 1844.
(Election on the first Monday in November, bn gene,
rat Ticket.)
FOB PI! ESI DENT,
JAMES K. I’OLK, of Tennessee.
VICE PRESIDENT.
GEORGE M. DALLAS, of Pennsylvania.
DEMOCRATIC ELECTORS.
chakles j. McDonald, ( >r c..i.h,
ALFRED IVERSON, .if Muscogee,
ROBERT M. CHARLTON, i/chatham,
BARZILLAI GRAVES, of Randolph,
GEORGE W. TOWNS, of-Talbot,
\V. F. SAMFORD, of Meriwether,
CHARLES MURPHY, of Cass,
AN. B. WOFFORD, of Hahcniliain,
H. V. JOHNSON, of Baldwin,
ELI 11. BAXTER, of Hancock.
COTTON .MARKET.
Our market lias undergone no material change
since our last. The receipts lor the lasi ten days
have increased, and our citv presents its accustom
ed activity. Be make quotations, to day extn me ,
4 I 2a 5 5-B—principal sales, 5a 5 1-2. Our mar
ket is well supplied with goods, and our count! v
friends may rest assured that it otlers equal advan
tages, all things considered, with any point in the
State. The river is not yet in boating order.
Freights to Savannah on cotton by rad road tiO c.
per hundred.
“WHEEL. BN.”
Wheel in the Democratic ranks.
For hearts beat high and bands are here,
To greet old friends with many thanks,
And bail them too with many a cheer;
NN hat though, lost brothers! one by one,
You left us, ’midst the battle’s din,
Now, welcome hack ! shine out, bright sun,
Take up your arms ! wheel in !
There are thousands of Whigs in Georgia who
leel convinced that they have been misled by Mr.
Clay into ihe advocacy of measures which their
judgements condemn, and their consciences disap
prove.
Let such men yield to the spirit of patriotism
which stili hovers above them like the star of Con
statiue directing to objects nobler and purer and
more exalted than mere party animosities, nr per
sonal predilections.
True moral courage is exhibited not so miieli in
boldly investigating lor ourselves the gieat ques
tions of political disputation, that we may ascertain
wliat inherent virtue, safety, and truth they con
, ini i, as in the manly annunciation of our well-ma
! lured convictions. Every citizen of this wide
spread Republic, when under the influences of a
spontaneous expression of his sentiments, must feci
mortified that a statesman, of such respleuilant
qualifications as Mr. Olay undoubtedly possesses,
i should, under the malign influence of Adams and
Webster, he lured into an anti-American view of
the most interesting, the must absorbing,and hv far
the most controlling question, both as it regards the
present and tlie* future, that bus been presented to
the mi ulsoftlie American people since the war of
lude|iendeiice.
But that mortification must lie doubly increased
when reverting to iheir own personal history and
conviction, our whig friends arc admonished that
ih *v have lieen borne along on the impetuous cur
rent of political strile, the willing and unresisting
instrument of party leaders, without having once
inlerrogiled the pilot as to the course of the ship,
the length of the passage, the condition oftlie ele
ments, or the port of destination. The crash of the
Stalwart timbers of the ship of State, that has rode
oldocean's ivavesand breasted her storms Ibr sixty
seven years can alone dispel Ihe denlli-lioding
trance. Awake! You are approaching the circle
oftlie Political Maelstrom, and once within its po
tent and irresistible current, you are beyond rescue
or salvation.
Now that Mr. Clay is no longer cheered by the
hopes of Southern support, into which belief he bad
been beguiled bv a tew factions partisans, those
political hirils of prey that follow in the wake of the
Ship of Stale, and live upon the ollals of Political
Spoils, he has in the phrenzv of the moment torn
oil’l he silver veil behind which the grim, distorted
countenance of Federalism was concealed, and ex
claimed in the language of the impious prophet of
Khorassatt,
Behold ye wise saints your light, your star,
Ye would lie dupes snid victims,and ye me!
But patriots of Georgia up will) the stars and
stripes! nail ilietn to the mast,and upon the bright
and burning altars of vour country’s glory, swear
never to desert, never to surrender them into the
bands of a man who would impoverish the South
by a galling and iniquitous system of taxation —
suffer a hlond-lllirslv tyrant to butcher a Free Peo
ple from a pretended and mawkish sensibility lor
our national honor; and |>ermit the most beautiful,
important, and valuable territory to be sacrificed to
appease the demands of the “ third party,” the li
bellers of the South, the filse devotee* of liberty,
the sans culottes of the 19th century, the incendia
ries <d’ tl.e Constitution, and the patrons and pro
pagators of Southhampton massacres. Arise then
tmoflicial Whigs of Georgia, and shake nfl the iron
bonds of parly. Dare to disobey those,who avail
ing themselves of a credulity caused by past as
sociations, are madly bent upon the ruin of your
country. They would carry you into the same
disastrous alliances which Senator Berrien basal
ready formed himself, ami into which he would en
trap the people of Georgia. Is he your represen
tative? Do you concur in the frail ill doctrines
that lie has t>een advocating throughout the past
summer in New Jersey and Massachusetts? As
the recognized expounder of \Y big tenets, lie has
transit-red you to the high tariff party of the North.
Did you authorize him to consummate such a bar
gain? Are you willing to the transfer.'' Is there
a single press of your parly, that has dared de
nounce the doctrines laid down by Senator Ber
rien in ttie presence of Granger and Webster, in
which lie pledges Georgia to the Protectionists.
Not one!—No, not one! In your hearts you con
demn him, his doctrines, and the Federal alliance
that he lias formed for you, and you can no longer
obey the true impulse of patriotism, ami remain
where you are. Remember that though every
other Stale in the confederacy should adopt these
Federal principles and go by the hoard,that Geor
gia, true to theConslitution ami herself, will remain
Republican to the core. Then no longer hesitaic,
hut
Wheel in! though dust and shadows thus,
Obscure our dense, but broken lines,
Though Waterloo, it sceired to us,
Yet now, again, the daybghl shines;
Hard hands are grasping hands as hard,
Our thickening ranks await the din ;
No power can now our course retard ;
Take up your arms! W heel in !
AVheel in ! the poor man’s place is here,
.Mechanics! form in solid line;
For Polk and Dallas, give a cheer,
And give for Texas nine times nine;
No more is heard “what of the night •
Tne shroud of darkness grows roublllnn,
The watchword soldier! V ictory —rigm •
Take op your arms! AV heel in!
[trylVe liiqie those persons who may
veil our paper from the Carrier, and *»• w j)j
intend to remain upon our subscription ' u ,.j,
give us notice forthwith. It U!>
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