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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.