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m 3 Qa&FaAJ.Vi\
1 HOM ; ME 1 V.'Nni'BCU M.VOAZJM*
- <f 4£P <’Ar •**■’ “
Mill, * i’ • friend* of on) yanlht where
oi e!I >! .* ififirf echo uuswered > it here
■ . 1 1, “ >•*
tn e ‘ .
I/mh/ • •(!rs had elaps'd since I ga'z'd
i'll the scene
M hi* h i. y limey still rob'd in its
freshness of green,
the spot where a schorl bov, all
thoughtless, I stray'd
Ky the bank of the stream in the
gloom of the shade,
I thought of the friends who had roam'd
with me there,
When the sky was so blue, and the
flowers so fair;
All scatter’d, all sunder'd by mountain
and wave,
And some ir. the cold silent womb of
the grave!
1 thought of the green banks, that
circled around,
With wild flowers, with sweet briar,
and eglantine crown’d,
I thought of the river, all stirless and
bright
As the face of the sky on a mild
summer’s night.
And I thought of the trees under which
we had stray’d ;
Os the broad leafy boughs w ith their
coolness of shade;
And 1 Imp’d though disfigur’d some
token to find,
Os the names and the carvings impressd
on the rind.
All eager, I hasten'd the scene to
heboid,
Render'd sacred and dear by tbe
feelings of old,
And I deem’d that unalter’d, my eye
should explore
This refuge, this haunt, this elysimn
of yore!
Twas a dream—not a token or trace
could I vic-w
Os tbe names that 1 lov'd, of the trees
that l knew,
Like tbe shadows of night at the
dawning of day—
Like a tale that is told, they had
vanish'd away!
And I thought the lone river that
murmur'd along,
Was more dull in its music, more sad
in its sung.
h'ince tbe birds that bad nested and
warbled above
Had all fled from its banks at the lull
of the grove!
I
I paus’d—and the moral came home
to my heart:
Behold Imw of earth all the glories
depart! •
Our visions are baseless; our hope but
a gleam ;
Our start - but a reed ; our life but a
dream.
Then oh! let us look, let our prospects
allure
To scenes that can fade not, to realms
that endure;
To glories, to blessings that triumph
sublime,
O’er the blighting* of change and ruins
of time !
y ROM THE fIIAHLESTOV COCKIER.
‘Hie North American Neview enjoys
much favour in public opinion,
that its name is of itself a sufficient
passport with the friends of litera
ture amor;* us. The last number
will delight all who shall find leisure
to peruse it— by its richness and
vatietv of information —the highly
interesting topics of which it treats,
and the cusiomaiv fascination el
chaste anti elegant writing which
invariably graces the thoughts ox
pic-seel in that exctllei t Journal
One of the articles reviewed, is
“ /:.s.v,,f/.v on various subjects of Taste
Morals rn and National Point!,” by a
Virginian. ‘1 he author is in favor
of duelling, which he conceives
necessary in time of peace, to keep
up that sense of honor which may
avail us in wav—;>nd he considers
the loss ot foe or six valuable
lives a year, as a sacrifice not too
great to obtain such an object.
The He view, among o hers,
mokes the following remarks, which
we copv, because they fairly and
justly appreciate our situation du-
Ving the last summer, and show a
proper feeling of kindness towards
us.
“ Two subjects filled a considerable
space in the public attention during
the last session; one connected with
the subject of slavery, and one with
that, us duelling, as they exist severally
in the Southern Stab s. With regard
to the. fiist ui them, the conduct of the
mr.g'.-tr.trs arid nti7.ens of Charleston
on t!m delicate and trying occasion ol
the lust summer, was inaiked with
every thintr which prudence and bu
'naiiity could dictate, ami will not suf
fer in the comparison with wlust has
been done, in any important and difn
cult crisis, in any part or •criod of
our countin'. One thins* only, in refe
rence to this event, which could have
been avoided, is matter of regret, that
it should have been officially associ
ated with tbe .Missouri question, and
that the liberty should • ave been taken
of implicating one of the most distin
guished citizens in our country, by
tracing any part of the conspiracy to
the sentiments expressed by him, when
discharging, in the public councils, his
duty as a public servant, lint with
respect to the event itself, distressing
and deplorable as in its nature it may
be—every thing was done which could
have been asked of those high-minded
honorable and merciful men. As to
the other of the two events to which
public attention has been drawn tbe
last season, no language is strong
enough to impress the disdain with
which the public mind lias been af
fected. There is scarce any subject
of interest enough to find its way into
the public papers, where men do not
take sides. A general burst of indig
nation has in this instance been heard;
and anv early feeling of partiality,
which shall have disclosed itself, has
been wholly absorbed in the shame and
humiliation of the sequel, rill now
there was a kind ol plausibility in re
marks like our author’s on duelling.
Such remarks were often heard in con
versation, and it was thought that the
public peace was promoted bv subjec
ting him, who violated it in the article
ofhonor, to this responsibility. In the
old school way ol going out unexpect
edly to a retired spot where the inju
red party fired a half-loaded pistol at;
a distance of sixteen good paces, and
with chances < t its missing a thousand j
to one—while the challenged party, as
a matter of course, threw away his;
fire and shook hands—the practice
was, we do not sav justifiable—Heaven
forbid—but a kind of grown folks* play
a species of sham light, that might in a
corrupt state of society, be productive!
of good, Hut this ghastly intentriess (
of design, this practice for weeks and 1
months, this long training in tbe art of
sitedrling human blood, ami the pro
tracted, renewed, chon sired pnrpose of
murder, are truly savage; while this
close ncgocintion of rules arid postures
times and places, and this interchange j
of ribaldry, in the public print s are j
matter of humiliation t> every one;
who i* obliged to bear part of the <1 is- ’
grace of jt as an American. The pub
lic example is beyond measure deplo
rable.—Are there no laws, no magis
trates in Carolina and Georgia: i)o
the grand juries there reallv think, as
they seem to, that men shall for mouths
openly and publicly pursue tire pur
pose to kill, and nothing be done to
lay the strong arm of the law upon
them? Have they well weighed the
efleet upon society of taking olf the
salutary restraints which the public
sentiment had every where imposed on
duelling, and which forced it to be
perpetrated with seeresy, dispatch, or
in foreign jurisdictions ? if so, let oth
ers pity the slaves—we commisserate
the masters.—And it is some comfort
to those who believe that virtue and
v'cc are their own rewind, to think
that, in the nature of things, the event
to which we are alluding must, since
its first agitation, through all its mise
rable vicissitudes, have been beyond
description, harrassingaml tormenting
to all immediately concerned; —thus
in some degree, visiting on them the
outrage done the community."’
Ikr.T. \ no. —If (as has been obser
ved bv an elegant and ingenious au
thoi) “ all men have an equal right
to every thing that is necessary for
them,” assuredly there is not on
earth a race of men mbre wronged
or more wretched than the peasan
try of Ireland. They have now
began to feel that they have a l ight
to something beyond what thev are
permitted to enjoy; they argue the
point among themselves agreeable
to the rude rules of nature ; their
philosophy is not cl schools oi col
leges ; but It is perhaps a better- —
that of the heart. And can it be
supposed,that an uni ntunate man,
driven from the hut in which he
first drew his breath—expelled
from the farm which his forelathers
tilled —beholding his wife and in
fants turned forth on a common
exposed without covering to the
pelting of the storm and shrieking
lor sustenance, while the last pota
toe has been seized by the landlord
of tithe proctor ! Can it he suppo
sed, we ask, that such a man will
dispassionately sit down to reason
in the midst of his misfortunes, and
consider which means of redress
arc most consistent with that law by
which he has been forced on the
world houseless, homeless, hope
less ? No ; impossible ; he knows
of no law but that of nature; be
resortts no virtue h'ut revenge. —
llis landlord is absent from the
country ; the agent is obdurate : and
the clergyman (good soul) is so
feelingly alive to the distresses ol
his fellow creatures, that he cannot
hear to drag from the lip of the per
ishing infant the sapless nipple
which maternal tenderness had pre
sented —that is the proctor’s office,
whose feelings of humanity have
been somewhat blunted by repeti
tion. This is no picture of fancy,
but one of many daily occurring
scenes, gravely and solemnly attes
ted by an eye witness.
What English, or any man, hav
ing the heart of a man, would tame
ly look on at this imputed spolia
tion of his little wealth, because the
failure of crops, depressions of
markets, or some other unforeseen
and uncontrolable event had ren
dered him incapable of fulfilling
his destructive engagement, in
which if ha fails, no matter from
what cause, ruin is tbe inevitable
consequence? But there is still,
amidst tbe crowd ot difficulties, at
least one hope; the disorder is of
too violent a nature to last long;
ancl having once passed the climax,
we may look for rapid recovery,
and a more wholesome constitution.
In other wonls, rent*, tithes ancl
taxes, must reduce themselves, if
they be not reduced.
If the produce of the soil yitld
less or be less valuable, than when
those imposts were established,
they must unquestionably sink to
the present level, that all max’ en
joy something. Ihe C*rc :t Crea
tor ot min never intended that the
work of his hands should perish;
he never designed die peasant
should pine in wrct< hedness and
want in order that the peer should
wallow iu luxmio.is pomp. And
the enormous ecclesiastical reve
nues derived by our chrgv are
strikingly contrasted with the A pos
tal age, directly opposed to their
Divine Master’s admonition, “ take
neither script nor purse,” &c. Bat
we cannot believe that those per
sonages are so blind to their own
interests as not speedily to make
Some concessions in favor of hu
manity, and in defence of them
selves. With half what they have
now an imaginary title to, they
were rich, secure, and happy.—
Better have any than none. Let
them remember the fate of Crtcsus.
Until something of this sort is
done, Ireland must continue the
theatre of anarchy, contusion and
outrage. —Liverpoo l Mercury.
‘The Bride with two Bridegroom.?.
T he following singular circum
stance issai 1 to have recently taken
place in one of the counties of En
gland, and is at present a subject of
conversation.
A young lady of great mental
and personal attractions, wa3 be
trothed to a young naan of her own
rank in life. The day was fixed,
and the ring bought that was to
unite them. In the interim the
ladv had to visit a friend at Wal
worth, and availed herself of one
of the days upon which Camber
well Fair was held, for that purpose.
The kindness of her friends, and
the amusements of the fair detain
ed her longer than she intended.—
Hut still she was determined to get
to Svdenham, and proceed home
wards. She was shortly overtaken
by a stout young man, in the work
ing dress of a brick layer; and it
being now dark, she determined to
keep up with him. The brick lay
er addressed her civile, told her
how-far lie was going, oticred her
his protection which she acccepted.
In short, the lady arrived safe at
home and the honest lawyer of
bricks and mortar proceeded on his
journey. The evening previous to
the knot being tied between the he
'roine and her intended husband",
while walking together in the fields,
perhaps laying down plans for their
future comfort and happiness, they
were met by a young gentleman un
known to either of them, who accos
ted the voung ladv by name, inqui
red after her health, and hoped she
felt no ill effects from the night
damp, in walking home from Cam
berwell Fair vvith.him a few nights
ago. This address greatly embar
rassed the vounglady, and threw
all the thoughts of jealous Othello
into the mind of her lover, who ab
ruptly questioned h’s bride as to
her having been at the fair without
his knowledge. J ‘<c !?'ly <- >i
not deny ’ha iact, but’ denied < - e
having seen the stranger, while u
nersiste 1 that he not only saw her
it thv Liir, but conducted oer houiv
from it.
The grecn-cved monster had
now got complete possession of the
bridegroom: and after upbraiding
his bride with infidelity and threat*
ning the stranger with his venge
ance, he rushed away, leaving her
in the care of the gentleman. The
lady’s distress was really indiscri
bable. To be suspected of impro
per conduct, could not by any inno
cent mind be brooked ; but to be
so by her future husband, and left
by him under the care of a stranger,
was beyond suffering. The stran
ger, after trying to sooth her mind
as much as possible, is reported to
have said —“ The person who has
now left you Madam, i$ undeser
ving of your hand, since he doubts
your honor, I have seen and loved
you lor these two years ; although
my humble rank prevented me the
happiness of conversing with you,
until my escorting ou home from
Camberwell Fair. For you must
be pleased to know that I am the
gallant bricklaver, as you kindly
termed me, when you took me by
the hand on your getting safely in
the gate on that occasion.” The
voung lady had now a perfect re
collection of his voice and person,
although the latter was altered by a
different dress—but still her mind
was greatly Agitated; and when
she was about to speak, her pro
tector interrupted her: “Since T
conveyed you home from Camber
well, my uncle, who was a builder,!
died, and left me seven hundred
pounds per annum. I am, besides!
well acquainted with his business
You are a bride now, and were to
he married tomorrow'. You must
continue so for two days longer
than was intended this morning, to
enable me to get a license with my
name inserted therein as the bride
groom. On account of your char
acter, ihe delay 7 cannot exceed the
time I have mentioned ; and I shall
not take any denial. I shall see
you home to night, and explain my
self at large to you and von. moth
ei. ’ All which was clone, and the
gallant bricklaver is now the happy
husband of an excellent young lady
while the original bridegroom must
chew the cud of disappointment at
his own imuetuositv.
*
El jih :nt. Ifuv.t in Jlr.nhar;.
a t r.vu in the province of
Agsa, 63 miles N. W. from Emracka
bad, has, for same time, been ravaged
by a wild elephant with only one tu.sk,
which had taken up his abode in a wet
dyke near the town, from which he
issued whenever he happened to be so
disposed; and, without fear or mercy,
devoured men and beasts, villagers
and travellers, as they came in his
way. flic Saliabina Alashan having
been moved to compassion by the lam
entations of the inhabitants, undertook
the deliverance of the town, and reso
lutely hound up their kurirtti himel to
destroy him. They accordingly pro
vided themselves with twelve good
elephants, and, under the supposition
that the wild elephant would show
symptoms of madness at the sight of a
female elephant in their train, pitch
ing her however in front, with an ad
vanced guard under seven bolm buck
ardaz, well mounted on seven ele
phant-;, with a great concourse of
people. ‘I he Sahabina Alashan then
took post in the rear, and gave the
word advanced. On arriving at the
ditch, the wild elephant Was discov
ered, and a shot was immediately fired
at him. This did not in the least alarm
him ; on the contrary, it excited his
utmost clioler, and he turned bis face
towards the Saliabina and began to
shake his cars at them, in a manner at
once wild and terrific. Upon this, the
armed Burkardaz, on their elephants
advanced within one hundred and
sixty yards of the spot in a most cour
ageoue style, supported hy the Sabina
Alashan in the rear. The elephant,
wild as he was, very judicious!*’ took
the alarm at this formidably advance
and endeavoured to reb't-r.t. The hun
ters, upon this, opened a heavy lire,
which drove the animal out of the
ditch. I lie whole body then pursued,
and crossed the dyke, and after a se
vere contest, this formidable animal
was slain by a ball entering his left
eye. Uu opening him, no less than
eighty balls were found in his head.
He had been a resident of the ditch at
Khasgur for upwards of four years,
and had killed during that time, about
tilty of the inhabitants.
Important discovery in the compo
sition of the blood. —Sir Edward
Home, in delivering his late intro
ductory lecture on the physiology
,f die blood, explained a discovery
in tie by him on the component
p uts of blood, in the year 1818, a
fact which is known to but few of
the profession. Sir Edwaid’s new
theory is, that carbonic acid gas
forms a large proportion of the
blood, and that this fluid is of a
tubular structure. The immortal
Harvey, the discoverer of the cir
culation, and Hevvson, and Hunter
who have most studied the compo
sition of the vital fluid, failed to
make this important discovery; and
should time, the only test of truth,
prove the justness of this new the
ory, Sir Edward shall be ranked
among the first physiologists of the
day. He asserts that carbonic acid
gas exists in the blood in the large
proportion of two cubic inches to
an ounce, and that it is given ou;
in large quantities from the blood
of a person after a full meal, and
very little from the blood of a
feverish person.— London Courier .
REV. ROWLAND HILL.
Among the other anecdotes rela
ted of this eccentrick preacher, iti*
said that on one occasion, percei
ving Mrs. Hill asleep in meeting,
and a person Who sat next to her
also asleep, he addressed himself to
another individual— u Friend, give
your neighbour a pinch ; he snores
so loud that he will awake Mrs.
Hill.” One evening a milliner’s
apprentice brought home a band
box, and by the inadvertence of a
new servant, was shown into the
room where Rowland Hill was sit
ting. Curiosity induced him to
open the box, and look at its con
tents. He closed it however, with
out a single remark, and when Mrs.
Hill soon afterwards asked him
for five pounds to buy a chest of
drawers, he gave it to her at once.
On the following Sunday, as soon as
he ascended the pulpit he kept a good
look-out for his wife. She present
ly made her appearance, trying to
force her way through the crowd
which always blocked up the aisle
of the meeting-house, on which her
vigilant husband cried out—“ Make
way, good people, for Mrs. Hill,
she is coming with a chest of draw
eis on her head.”
Trenton Emporium.
.1 Tojc Hunt. —A brace of live foxes
are to be let out of a bag this day, in
the neighbourhood of the Union Race
Course at Jamaica. The hounds and
zentlenit-n are all ready, and Dr. Cole
man advises them in have their necks
insured, to which we say ditto. We
once paid 50 cents fora ticket to join iri
a fox hunt, and as soon as Reynard was
let loose, our horse ran away, jumped
over hedge and briar, tore our clothes,
butuped our nose, and finally threw us
in a ditch, where we lay, a spectacle
to all fox-hunters. Since which the
“ hunter’s horn in the morning” has no
charm for us. A*. V. National Jldv.
Georgia, ~j
)> 4th A pi. 1823.
Appling County. J
Whereas my wife Mary Cox of
said county has left my bed and
board without any just cause—l
therefore caution all persons against
harbouiing or dealing with her in
my name, as I am determined not
to pay any of her contracts, and will
put the law in force against any per
son harbouring her.
SAMUEL COX
.U'Uevson County.
VS / II ERE AS Rachel lieeton anti
v v William S. Becton applies to
me for letters of administration on the
estate of Samuel S. ilecton, late b?
said county dec’d.
These are therefore, to tite and ad
monish all, and singular the kindred
and creditors <>t said deceased to be
ana appear at my o2' s ee, within the
time prescribed by taw, to shew cause,
il any, why said letters should not be
granted.
Given under my hand this 3d day of
March, 1823.
JOHN G. B >STICK, n, c. c. o.
March 21st I—3lid
BLANK
Wnts, Sheriffs Deeds,
common do. /
Sheriffs YJiHs oi Sa\c,
Juror’s Summons,
Justice’s do.
do. Executions,
Subpoenas, Gamuts, &c.
Fov sa\c i\t this office.