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M4^gwW i Aa>vMgttßßa aid Slw> rid a freshet cover your corn after the fod der has been pulled, break the stalk under the ear and turn it dowq, it drips out the wet better; 1 think it preferable to the more usual practice of splitting the shuck and drawing it back, so as to expose the grain to the sun. 1 have had corn covered in all stages from the grain to the ripe car; the injury is princi pally from the deposite of sediment, it will not kill what is not covered more than two days and nights, it it he in running water or shch as leaves no sediment, unless it be on corn not well above the ground. * The cow-pea is so general and useful an adjunct to the cornfields that some notice of it seems proper. I think late planting bet tor than early, I would on rich lands prefer planting in July to April; the best time is in June. Early peas generally suffer by drought and shed their planted very sel dom suffer in this way, and where so late as not to run into vine hut bear on the branch, they are easier gathered. 1 tried numerous experiments with the.early kinds, to see if 1 could get a crop ripe enough to house in Au * gust before cotton picking commenced, hut none answered well as to certainty of produc tion ; there are some of the rrowders that yield a third more peas from the haum, but every thing considered, the old cow-pea takes the lead, it only sfiares with me the cultiva tion that the corn gets. Its value as food for man and beast, and to the beast as a substi tute for corn and fodder,is too well known and appreciated to need remark. A bushel of peas to twenty pounds of bacon or six pounds of hogs lard, makes a tine material for the la bourer to work ou—l have never given it as an allowance. The gathering of a crop of peas comes at a season when cotton picking is on hand, and w hen the provision crop is also, and the time iss?o little to spare, that an expeditious mode of getting it in is very de sirable. 1 know no better way than .the usu al one for such as are intended for the slaves. S jch as are for your stock may be put away on wet days; or such as are unsuitable for cotton picking. Cut the limbs three feet from the bony of any tree near the size of your leg, and 8 or 10 feet high, sharpen the butl < ml and stick it in the ground at some conve nient place, and gather the pens and vines of all and stack them on it; in this situation rains cannot rot them and iou may house t’ em at your leisure or feed them from the stack.— They*are also well saved in rail pens as des- i * crihed'by your correspondent “pisum.” { The pumpkin, as another valuable adjunct to the corn-field, seems entitled to some re-; marks. If, perhaps, yields more weight per acre than atiy other article of usual cultiva tion, and is made only by the share which it appropriates to itself of the ploughing and j hoeing of the corn-field—with care they will 1 beep till pumpkins come again. Where! planted alone they should be singled to dis- j ranees at least ten feet each way; a peck ol'j cotton-seed of other good manure to each hill, will make a valuable lot of them if conveni- j ent to the stable yard; they are heavy of car riage as a horse will eat ISfldbs. in a night. The mode I have found as most convenient fer gathering them, is to take the first w'et j clay after the vines are killed by frost,and pile , them in small quantities in the corn rows five , rows apart, for the convenience of the wagon, covering them with fhelr vines ; a smart wag-; goner in the waggon will catch and lay as ( many pumpkins as two hands will throw to ; Ivm. Ail the inferior pumpkins, or such as have their stems broken out, should he throw n ! out at home for immediate use, the good ones should be laid in the houses anti not so as to J he. too heavy on each other, they should be j kept cool till severe weather, and then if cov- 1 ered over with fodder or hay, they will kee*p > a long time ; but as this is troublesome and will require much more room, the great bulk of the crop should be put in rail pens, four square, laid across at bottom w ith rails, and ! tm (hem and against the sides with corn-stalks | and filled in with pumpkins three feet high, j then another rail floor and covered at top with stalks or vines to keep off hard frosts ; these of course arc made in the'fields convenient; they would not keep with a load on them of six or eight feet of pumpkins, nor will they keep under hay or fodder if put in before hartl weather. Our negrqcs keep them ip their; house lofts all the year through, and with but little care they may be kept through January ■ in the fields. , Having tried to make tne com, the peas, and the pumpkins, and put them iu a situa-j lion to be of most use to you, we must return ) to the corn-crop and gather the fodder. There ans three modes; and the best is to strip and lay the blades scattered thin in the alleys for the sun to have the most effect, if the ground be dry and the weather fair, it may be bound into sheaves any time the next day and car ried and stacked convenient for the waggons to carry home, lfthc ground is wet, it is bet ter pulled and laid between the stalks and nay be reaily to tie on the next evening. If it he rainy it is best pulled and tied iu small slmaves and stuck tm the stalks, this is slow; •work; fodder is but little injured by rain on the day it is pulled, but much injured by it on the next day as the sap is partially dead. I prefer ill a bad season to cure fodder in the .field and not at home. Fodder in a dry time may be packed away in a week, in damp wea ther not under three after the pulling; it is safest as a general rule to leave it scattered in the houses for eight or ten days as it cures there well. It is usual to commence hauling home a crop of corn about the first of Octo ber, mid best iu the hulf shuck, as it keeps potter, and they arc worth their weight iu fodder ; but your corn, unsafe from freshets, may be Ikmisi <1 a montli 4 curlicr, ami put away iit a small bulk. A word or two about hay before closing this long epistle. la t all hands with their hoes shave Ihi ly w here the grass is best, so as to bring as little as ]>osil))c up hv the roots and to cut on till mid-day, the next day then, collect the whole into small stacks into which it will cure well; if threatened w ith rain unite many slacks into one ; more hay may be made to the hand by the grass scythe. I have for some years been in the habit of making hay when it rained, devoting the good weather to' • the market crop. 1 have thus tried to begin with the cornfield and •carry Hand its adjuncts, through all h< fctiges, from planting to housing its product, and it I have succeeded in making no blade ot grass grow where two grew before, I shall teel that 1 hate done some service. A PLANTER. Southern Agriculturist. • * “A poet’s hand and prophet’s fire, Struck the wild warblings of his lyre.” The following stanzas were written by Mr. j Kludge on reading Dr. G'almv’h sermon against 1“M Thoughts," and delivered in his lecture on [ the elocution of the Senate and the Bar, at the ! Royal Institution London.^ Let - aints interdict, and let sages revile, The sportive creations which fancy supplies; Oh, still let her baseless enchantments begiiile, And veil the bleak prospect of truth to my eyes Let those who are strangers to want and to woe j Despise the gay fabric she raises in air; The joys of delusion they never cau know, \A hose wishes exceed not the they share. ’Tis not to the wish which fruition attends— ’ 1 is not to the dictate which power'obeys— That fancy her magic emblazonry lends, Or hope all her linsell’d illusion displays. Tis the wretch whom remorseless misfortune pursues, ’Tis the soul which reflection has taught to despair, That Fantasy charms with her high-colored views, And shields from the-sullen intrusions of caffe. ! W ho would not illumine despondency’s gloom, j V\ hen the rays of delight can so cheaply be bought? \\ ho would not bid pleasures, long faded to bloom, When their bright hues will start into life with a thought ? When realities torture, ’tis wise to forget; When sorrow's assail us, toiiy from their stingy For fancy can soften the sigh -ot regret, And bear us from anguish on fairy-formed wing. Then oft let her waft me through space and through time, And cold probability’s limits defy ; Her flights, though unstable, are oftimes sub lime, And falsehood is rapture when spoke from her eye. Deny not the wretched their day-dreams of joy, Too often alas! their sole comfort below; Since virtue disdains not such dreams to employ, Whence reason, awaking, feels fresh vigor flow. Full often, when no human comfort w r as near, When each frail exertion'hah failed to relieve, W hen dejection extorted from manhood a tear, And Certitude's self for a moment might grieve ; Unconscious I’ve wander’d from wo to delight; Spontaneous Klysium has grown to my view; Gay tbney has burnish’d her images bright, And Hope has half whisperered those images true. 1 Each purpose by natural bias endeared, Each darlingdosire and delightful reward, Has flash’d on my mind and to Fancy appeared With time and with circumstance slill to ac cord. My vassals have -waited, my flambeaus have blazed, My castle has rung, and my beauties have smiled; Whole kingdoms with joy on ray bounty have gazed; And Fame has proclaimed sue her favorite 'child. I seek the retreat, too, of private distress; I draw modest worth from the shades of neg lect;. I live, and I breathe, and I move but to bless— When the fond vision flies, and I’m left tore fect. Vet e'en from this madness some comfort I draw, And I blame not my heart through its fictious career; ■ t • By pow er uncheck’d unrestricted by law', It still holds the cause vf benevolence dear. Then still let the fancied enjoyments you spurn, 1 Snatch me from the horrible grasp of despair,— I escape from my sorrows, too soon to return j And phrenzy's a kinder impostor than care. mmmmmmmmgmmmmmgm LOVE AND GOLD. Seek wot with gold or glittering gem, My youthful heart to move ; To share a lvingly diadem, W ould never gain my love. The heart that’s formed in Virtue’s mould, For heart should be exchang’d; The love that once Is bought with gold, May be by gold estrang’d. Can wealth relieve tire Jab’ring mind ? . Or-ealm tlte soul to rest 1 What healing balm can riches find To soothe the bleediug breast ? ’1 is love, and love alone, has pow’r To bless without alloy; To cheer affliction’s darkest hour, And heighten every joy. A DAUGHTER'S PRAYER. \\ ritten by one of t!ie mo.-t distinguished au thors now jiving, for the use of Ins" own little daughter. Its beautiful simplicity will rocom- J mend it at once to every parent. Ere on my bed thy limbs I lay, God grant me grace my prayers to say; Oh, God, preserve my mother dear, In health and stTeogh, for many a year, But oh, preserve my father too, And may I pay him reverence due ? And may I. my best thoughts employ To be my parents’ hope aftdjoy! Oh! likewise keep my brothers’ both From evil doings and fropi sloth, And m >.y we always love each other, Our friends, our father, and our mother! And still, oh Lord, to me impart An innocent and grateful heart, Till after my last sleep, I may Awake to thy eternal day. tih: f.vz* t. Fro m the New-York Mirror. TOO MUCH SUSCEPTIBILITY. From unfinished Memoranda. “Soft effluvia, shooting through the brain— Die of a rose in aromatic pain.” . Poor Jarob Seymour had too much susceptibility. His heart was tender ness itself. It swelled up into his throat on the most trivial occasions. Uiibid deti tears were forever rising into his eyes : blushes continually overSpreatf his checks ; smiles, Which he could not check, would beam out like sunshine o ver his face ; his blond boiled with re sentment at any incident which bore the | remotest resemblance to an insult. Yet he yearned to love every body and every thing. All the world declared he was a good fellow-; but lie was entirely too sus i ceptible. He betrayed these traits of character even in bis earliest boyhood. Ilis heart seemed ever full to the brim, and the slightest touch shook it to overflowing.— What was quite vexatious too. the very peculiarity in his constitution, which perpetually led him astray, rendered it ■ almost impossible for him to bear the! consequences. His father was frighten- j ed at the sensitiveness of his disposition. I His mother loved him the more for it; es pecially when, after a frown from the former, he would come with his pale cheeks and little blue eyes so full of griclj and hide his face in her bosom. At seven be was a delicate, fair coni plexioned boy. Soft golden hair curled around a sweet girlish countenance, — The ladies called him a perfect Cupid At ten he had expanded into something more of masculine strength, and mama, alter long struggles between her duty i and feelings, at length consented that he should he sent to a boarding school.— J 1 e susceptible mothers and sons, imagine j the parting ! Jacob was left in the deso- ; late loneliness of a strange place, with new faces about him. He went out among the crowd of young urchins -en gaged in their sports, and felt ftk if bis heart would break. This made him wretched For a month, w hen lie began to be interested in the circumstances around i him. At the age of thirteen, lie was ordered to prepare for a public examination,— He had intended to appropriate the eve ning previous, to the study of the only page in Euclid which he did not perfectly understand. He had just opened the book and commenced, at the line a b e quals the line c and, Ac. w ben his eves res- j ted accidentally on the blooming form and animated lovely face of his tutor's youngest daughter Mary. She had just; reached her fourteenth year. A beauti-1 lul and dangerous object to sit by the: j side of a susceptible youth study ing ma thematics. It was summer, moonlight, and some how or other they were left, to themselves. The girl hummed a pleasant air, and Master Jacob drew near the window and forthwith struck into a second. Suscep tible people are apt to love music. He Foi-grot Euclid ( ill it was too late lor fur ther study. The next day his examiner, as ill luck would have it, opened at the very problem w hicli lie had failed to learn. Jacob became confused—the class titter ed ; lie was rebuked by the tutor and! hurst into tears. The school was dismissed. The voi- j ccs of his companions were heard from the broad green meadow which formed their play-ground. The tutor also had disappeared, and Jacob was seated - gloomy and alone; his aching headi bent down upon the desk, and his face: covered from the light. He was* brood ing, poor fellow, over the disgrace he had ■suffered, and that too in the presence of Mary. ”1 could have borne,” thought he, “the ungenerous ridicule of the boys, and even the coldness of the master : "but to lie disgraced and laughed at before her !! what must she think of me ; ” Tears flowed again at the thought, and he sobbed aloud, when an arm upon his shoulder, and a suit hand upon his, star tled him from lus sad meditations. He looked up. and the same face which happened to he at that moment so vivid ! in his memory, was before him in reality. A slight moisturo suffused her eyes, and swelled gradually into shining drops, which lay there like dew in the cups of; blue flow ers. A gleam of rapture thril led through his Soul. Now, if any good-for-nothing mis chievous reader, feels alarm lest I am go ing to w ork this up into a romantic story, I beg leave to disclaim any such inten tion. The gi.-l regarded him merely as a protty little boy, whereas she was u young lady of fourteen. She had ob served the acuteness of his feelings, and knew the cause of his failure, and had now come out of pure pity to soothe him. She w ;ls indeed so totally unconscious of j any other sentiments than those of asis ter, that she even kissed his cheek, put hack the curls from his forehead, and j held his hand in hers, w hile she proceed-; ed to console him, in a low sweet voice which was perfect music in his ear, and sunk with a delightful feeling into his | heart. This isrcrtainly a strange world, anil, • incredible as it may seem to tlie wise men ' thereof, it is my opinion that at that par ticular moment not one-of them, howao-; ever learned and eloquent he might have been,, could have calmed Jacob's troub led thoughts so effectually as did this* simple maiden. His tears evaporated ; he forgot the master, the rebuke, and tlie! Haughtier; and when she bade him get up and go (mt to play, lie submitted once more with astonishing resignation as she pressed her full lips upon his forehead, and obeyed her as if she had been a queen. ‘•I do not care for all the world.” said -lie, as he walked down a little lane by a grove of oaks, whose foliage was touched with the last rays of the sun ; and the balmy evening air fanned his cheek ; “let my master scold me every day, and let the whole school laugh, if Mary will only come afterwards and tell me not to mind it.” Now the reader may imagine if Jacob's susceptibility caused him such acute sensations, both of pain and pleasure, c ven before the subtle thoughts, interests, and passions of manhood were developed, ! what must have been his anguish when lie mingled w ith the reckless and jarring throngs of Hie world in the more advan -1 ceil stages of human life ? As lie grew older his sensitiveness was not diminished ; he continued alive to all the varying impressions of surrounding circumstances. He left off Latin and : Greek because the master was too cross ; he devoted himself assiduously to music and dancing, and was at length dismiss ed from the establishment, in conse quence of a highly censurable circum stance. The authorities were informed that lie did one day so teaze Miss Helen Moore, by reading to her some verses which he had composed on the subject of Cupid and Psyche, that she snatched the | same from his hands ; and, in the course of his endeavors to recover them, their lips did actually come so near to each other as to produce a sudden report, which awakened Mademoiselle He L’ ! Orme,.the French instructress, a maiden lady of nine and forty, who had been re posing in an adjoining apartment Ma demoiselle I)e L’Orine was petrified with horror; Helen wasin an amazing pas sion. and poor Jacob was informed that his numerous similar offences had exhaus ted the patience of the trustees, and that he must pack up and begone. Jacob had no sooner completed his twenty-first year than he found himself i possession of an independent fortune.! One would have deemed him a happy man, endowed as be was witli health, education, riches, talents, and an agree able person: But he was so susceptible that his distresses were sometimes almost greater than he could bear. His unfor tunate -constitutional weakness displayed itself particularly in extreme admiration of the diviner sex. The natural warmth of his heart led him to frequent, indul gence in matrimonial reflections. He acknowledged that bachelorship was a lonely, inconvenient, and unsatisfactory state ; but unfortunately he could never fix upon a suitable companion, but before the question was popped, the parties a grccd. and the periiminaries arranged, her image was absolutely banished from his mind by that of some other, yet more j angelic. If a lady did but speak civilly j to him. his heart was in a flame. The lovely Julia had gained his affections, as ; the phrase is, and it was understood that i they were to make a match of it when he accidentally met the enchanting Henriet ta oh board a steam-boat going up to Al bany. He was introduced to her as the boat was passing the state prison. Be fore they reached Yonkers he felt that his peace of mind was deeply involved, and lie squeezed her hand—declared his passion, and vowed eternal constancy just opposite Anthony’s Nose. She hap pened to be acquainted with his disposi tion, and respectfully rejected his ad dresses. His first impulse was to hang himself, and he actually w alked out to take a last agonizing farewell of nature and to buy a rope, when he was encomi- * tcred by two handsome witty profligate j young men who railed at women and turned every idea of purity and affection into derision. They invited him to a Champagne supper, where he spent the 1 night in riotous debauchery, and fore swore all woman kind forever. A month afterwards lie married the daughter of a rich Dutch farmer, on Long! Island, endorsed a note for a friend for twenty thousand dollars, and became li able for the amount, and is at this mo ment residing in a wretched hovel, strug gling from day to day for the means of; sustenance, pining away under the ef-! fects of a tender attachment for his wife’s youngest sister. COMMERCIAL COURTSHIP. A merchant, originally from Liver pool, having acquired a large fortune in one of the West India Islands, concluded that he could not be happy in the enjoy ment of it unless he shared with a Wo man of merit; and knowing of none to his fancy, he wrote to a worthy corres pondent of his in Liverpool to procure “a helpmate for him.” He was not acquainted with any style except in business; therefore treating of affairs oflove as matters of merchandize, after giving his friend several commis- j sions. and reserving this for the last, lie went on thus; “item—seeing that I have taken a resolution to marry, and that I do not find a suitable match for me here, do not fail to send by the next ship hound hither, a young woman of form and qual ifications following ; As to a portion I demand none; lctjpr be of an honest family, between twenty and twenty five years ot age, of a middle stature, and well proportioned; her face agreeable, her temper mild, her character blame less, her health good, and her constitu tion strong enough to bear tlie changes of! climate, that there may be no occasion to Jook out for a second, through loss of the first soon after she comes to hand— w hich must be provided against as much as may considering the great distance and danger of the sea. If she arrive here conditioned as above said, with tlie present letter endorsed by you, or at least a true copy thereof, that there may be no mistake or imposition, I hereby en gage and oblige myself to satisfy the said tetter by marrying the bearer at fifteen days sight. In witness whereof, I sub scribe, Ac.” The correspondent read over and over ■this odd article which put tlie future spouse on the same footing with the bale of goods lie was to send to his friend, and after admiring the prudent exactness of the \\ est Indian (whose ingenuousness lie well knew,) and his laconic style in enumerating the qualifications lie insis ted on, he rtideavourod to serve him to his mind, and after many enquiries, he judged he had found a lady fit for his purpose—of reputable family but slender fortune; of good temper and polite edu cation, well shaped, and more than com monly beautiful. He made tlie proposal to her, and the young woman, whose de-; pcndence was chiefly upon a cross old aunt, with whom she lived in a stato of perpetual uneasiness, accepted it. A ship hound for the Indies, was then fitting out at Liverpool: the young wo man together w ith the bale of goods, was put on board; being well provided with necessaries, and particularly with a cer tificate in due form, and endorsed by the correspondent. She was also included. in the invoice, the last article of which run thus—“ltem—A young gentlewo man of twenty-tour years of ago. quality, shape, condition, as per order, as appears j from the certificates and affidavits she has produced.” The writings which; were thought necessary for so exact a man as her future husband, were, an ex tract from the parish register, a certifi cate of her character attested by the cler gyman ; an attestation of her neighbors, setting forth that, she bad patiently lived throe years with an old aunt, who was intolerably peevish, and had not during all that time, given the said aunt, the least occasion for complaint; and lastly, goodness of constitution, w as attested by four physicians. Before the tw o gentle j women's departure, the correspondent : sent letters e; - advice by other ships to! Iris friend, informing him that by such a j ship he should send a w oman of such an age, character, condition, Ac In a word, such as he himself had requested to be sent. The letters of advice, the bales, and the young woman, got safe to port, and the West Indian, who was one of the foremost on the pier at the lady’s land ing, was charmed to sec so handsome and interesting a female, more especially | when she, approaching him in the most j graceful and modest manner, said, “Sir 1 have a hill of exchange upon you, I beg . you will he pleased to honor it.” At the same time she delivered his correspond ; cut’s letter, on reading which heexcluiin- I ed, “Ah ! madam, I never yet suffered my hills to be protested, and I assure you that this shall not he the first.” This interview was in a few days fol lowed by the nuptials, which were very magnificent, and the new married couple were well satisfied with the happy union, negoci&ted by a hill of exchange. “The price of Liberty is eternal vigilance.” From the MilkdgezmTSouthern Recorder. Among the leaders of the Federal Clark party in the last Legislature, was a person past the meridian of life, who had not before figured in (lie public Councils. This was Major Jacob Wood of Mclntosh county, pu tative author of the Resolutions which bear liis name, and which have been industrious ly circulated by him or bis party in pamph lets, along with Col. Troup’s letter to the committee of the South Carolina State Rights patty. Unfortunately for Major Wood, who had coine forward as a public character at rather a late period of life, someone happen ed to remember, while bis resolutions .were under discussion, that he was concerned in! the famous \azoo Speculation, and made an allusion to that circumstance. The Major it is said, endeavored to parry this home thrust j by saying, that bis name was put down for a quantity of the Yazoo land without his knowledge or consent. At this day it wonld not, perhaps, be possible to prove (he precise facts of the cases. On refcring to the list of Yazoo purchasers, we find the name of Jacob Wood set down for twenty-eight thousand a-, ci cs of land'- It it was a donation, it was a largo one, and made with a view to secure his influence in carrying the Yazoo Fraud in to effect, ft is one among the singular inci dents in the history of (Jeorgia politics, that the individuals who were formerly disposed to appropriate to their own use vast reserves of the public domain, are now violently op. posed to reservations for public purposes Rut the present generation are comparative ly ignorant of the nefarious transactions con nected with the Yazoo Fraud. For their in formation, we republish a finely written arti- I cle which appeared in our paper some years ! >K°, vßi'iga brief but lucid view of this wicked business. HISTORY OF TIIE YAZOO FRAUD. Oi the many attempts which adventurers have made to enrich themselves at the public expense, by practicing on the cupidity of statesmen, none were more flagitious than the Yazoo Fraud. The South Sea bubble and j Mississippi Scheme bad their origin perhaps' less in knavery than in folly, and the mis chief they produced was transient. They! ruined it is true a few distinguished and some | thousands of obscure persons, but were mi. | important in their cor, where they rose and burst passed away; ,t affected 'Jr fV, nor the integrity of the eimm* he hind it little else besides T f’ an, l left wrecks of fortunes and reputaS" o ' l had destroyed. But the Y a * ' £ permanent curse upon these,? Irau <Wa j membered, whose novver j, J * whose character, polity and haS? H bad the irroa malignant iufl j Wf ‘ would willingly soar? C ‘ | (,eta ' ,s of ‘his odious on the crimes of the past that i But a shed her steadiest lirtit • the " s,of y m become the beacon/of t’| le * ra Several projects for the sale of', of country, within the limits of? at dliferent periods presented to 2** Lire. However contrary to ml l were listened to. B„ t j r H JJ W i J°rity of that body, never had sal ’ 6 '* l to foresee the rapidity with whi^?" and wealth would irUisi ptogress ?n immense vahiet’owh?? " 4 ; a wildernesss. 1 i Be that as it may, however Uo r , in 178!),* entering into-aeontr? t SfJ companies for the sale of tilt,? H millions of acres of land.hicfmli, ° r tW| <*. vwhwtg-* But a dispute ariose about the purchase money, and the , pajmei -vtiioli the gran,a (rere ' plied with. rt'dsuotc During the session of 1794-5, ft* c Assembly passed an act ' son at i ons called the Georgia' Mississippi, the Upper nessce Companies about tlnnyZZjl ofacies of land, lying between Mississippi, Tennessee, Coosa via Mobile. ’^.Alabama The bill was warmly contested i bouses, and had also to encounter l! t.on from the Governor. It ultimatelv'' n ed however by a majority of ten in tbelV iZrTT'T iind Uvo in J be sale ol ,o large a territory wn* re, ed by the people with an almost u.mnin burst of indignation, for it was soon kn that nearly all the members who voted for law, had been either directly or indit* corrupted by, the-purchasers. On- their turn to their homes, they were met by t constituents with the most marked dna taction, and in some instances narrowly e ed the popular indignation, to whicliitis one of them actually fell a victim-! ' discontented, wlm were indeed the qui the people, soon found a determined lea in James Jackson, afterwards Governor of State and Senator in Congress. 11, ivmel ed to the Legislature at its next srssioi, became a member ot the committee who vestigated the conduct of their predecss and reported the evidence tLiich provutii corruption.§ The act was rescinded, traces ot its passage expunged iron t records of the State,and the grants soim annulled. Lest the authority of tlieorda Legislative body should tie thought inadem to these important purposes, the. will and people was more solemnly and delibesl expressed by the convention of 17W, T body re-asserted iu a constitutionalaniek invalidity of the grants, and the tmudA means which had been used to procure tin file stockholders of the different were allowed to withdraw the proporiia tilt 1 purchase money which they hadadvan upon making oath that they had not tram red their interest. A privilege of wbioti least scrupulous of those who had Kla ! sold, are said to have availed themselves. The statesmen who adopted these mcas could not be insensible to the ditlicullie their situation. Much of the stuck hadi out ol the hands of the original holders,! those of foreigners and citizens of the £ ern States, with whom capital was- w more abundant than with the people of (1 giar These persons, really or pretend) ignorant ol the arts practised to obtain I grunts, claimed to be considered asinitaf purchasers. They insisted on tlit const tional authority of the Legislature to sell, contended that if the corruption allcdgwb not altogether a matter between the peoph (Jeorgia and their public agents, still it events, tbeir own claims, fairly and 1 v:A acquired, must not be confounded wiibllis of others, who were parties to the band it was much easier to prove the id®! the Legislature, than to show their constitutional authority*to sell. P r deed the recision of the law couldstarcilj maintained on the principles of the ootsi tion, and may much more safely bejiistifcd an act of self preservation. An injured? [>le made desperate by the abuses of ty, must and will pluck down their domes traitors, and violate laws and constituti which have become merely a shelter fit justice. It is indeed a fearful txperiw® an unhappy extremity. Rut we bold liberty and life upon noW terms. They must be defended by viol® when they cannot otherwise be preserved The first and most obvious evil ol tins l olution, for so it may be called, was the gradation of the judicial, which the new c stitntioii reduced to an abject dependence the legislative power. This measurec° be excused only on “ the devil’s plea of cessity.” To have trusted the State® 4 with independence while such a ( I ,IC | might he agitated before them, would • been an act of political suicide,|| supreme tribunal of (lie union pas be* the reach of state legislation, and M there lav no appeal except to theswow* Under such circumstances it was n enough to ]pok round for some powerful! tcction. The United States had herd) faintly asserted a doubtful cl^t in to th® lory in question, and in their hawk could the demands of the fraudulent P urc * Laws of Georgia—-Watkins’ Dig® s *-?■' | Among the names of the Senators wao in the negative, and who afterwards to®* live part in the politics of the State, w®| |,ru those of Irwin, Mil ledge and Mitchell- I Roberts Thomas, of Hancock, it t j s°P[ was killed on account of his vote. § Journal of the 11. of lb of Georg M--' 41 1790. ;,l,j II Tlio'occasion has ceased- hut tin- ,T 1 continues.