Newspaper Page Text
them awful curses, you see, on Ba^ e ,
ihe name— and said he was at the bottom of all
the mischief. Well, well, dying men don t, often
lie, and what they say is generally correct.
The dram-dealer did not remain to hear more
remarks, but moved away with a clouded brow
and a burning heart. He soon concluded his
business, and, as the night tell, .commenced Ins
journey homeward. . c ,
He Was well mounted, and his fleet-looted
steed bore him rapidly on ; but, haunted by bis
own memories and thoughts, he felt fearful and
insecure. The night was moon-lit, and singularly
quiet, so that the clatter of the horses hoofs echoed
far and loud. This circumstance was not grati
fying to the dram-dealer—be wished the wind
might rise—that a storm might break over him
that the thunder might speak from the firmament
—in fine, that something might interrupt the quiet
of the night. It seemed that nature had hushed
all her ministers, that she might look with a more
piercing, merciless eye on him —that she mig it
read the dark parchment ol his soul in a stionger,
steadier light. . .
The bad cannot love beauty and quiet; their
natures cannot harmonize with the other features
of the universe.
The dram-dealer rode on, not, however, with
out casting frequent glances ol apprehension on
either hand, as though he anticipated an attack ot
banditti. He was particularly cautious wherever
the road happened to be shaded by trees, or
wherever a hedge orblufl might possibly conceal
a danger.
At length, a sudden turn in the road brought
him face to face with another horseman, and
in immediate proximity to a precipice, which
yawned at his left hand.
The horseman, who sat about as erect and
steady as a reed in a tempest —who was about
fifty years of age —and who seemed to know’ the
dram-dealer well —this individual, I say, stopped
very short, and called out —
“ H-o-w-w-w a-r-e ye, m-m-my lord, as t-t-they
say in mo-o-o-n-archical gov-ov-ernmerits —line
riding, by the holy ! ”
Now the dram-dealer recognised in the eques
trian one of his best customers; hence he felt
compelled to stop, and 44 pass the compliments,”
—especially as there was every probability that
the said equestrian would hand many more dol
lars over the Squire’sbar ; though it must he con
fessed that the latter, on the present occasion,
was anything hut socially disposed.
44 How are you, Snider? ” he returned, coming
himself to a halt; “yes,it’s a fine evening, and
fine riding. But, man —I declare! —why you’ll
have your horse over the bank ! ”
“Not J, b-b-by the Lord!” responded the
drunkard, reigning his horse on the very brink ol
the precipice, 4 * I-I’m a better horseman t-t than
that, S S Squire. But t-t-the fact is ”
44 Man alive I you’ll be to your death this mi
nute ! ” shrieked the dram-dealer, as the uncon
scious rider seemed determined to urge his strug
gling and more intelligent steed down the abyss.
But not so thought the rider.
44 The f-f-fact is,” he continued, 44 that licker of
your’n is better—isb-better than ch-ch-chalk—it’s
worth more, I do swear ! ”
The dram-dealer screamed with agony. Ri
der and horse were tottering on the brink of the
precipice. He endeavored to seize the rein, bent
forward, stretched out his hand, and —was ail in
stant too late !
Down, down they went —rider and horse!—
Like, heavy clods they struck, mangled and life
less, an hundred feet below!
The dram-dealer gazed down into the abyss
for a single instant only. The moonlight flung
its rays faintly and tremulously there, and in that
pale light he saw the dim and revolting outlines
of the lifeless bodies.
An instant—then the dram-dealer, with a groan
of pain, rode furiously away. But though he
might flee from the corpse of his victims, he
could not flee from avenging thoughts. Louder
and farther echoed the hoofs of the fleet steed,
until the white foam glittered on his noble breast;
but the rider cowered still before the armed clam
ors of Conscience, and struggled with the viper
of Remorse !
No sleep blessed his couch that night.
His peace was evidently broken. In a few
days more, men began to remark that a wonder
ful change had come over the dram-dealer. He
was abstracted, gloomy, miserable, everybody
saw it—everybody talked about it—everybody
marvelled.
It could not be denied, or hidden —he was
haunted ! Day and night, sleeping and waking,
the images of his victims thronged through
his rebellious, shadowy mind.
It was not long before the community traced
this change and this suffering to their proper
sources. Then his bar-custom gradually dimin
ished, for tipplers did not like to see the 44 head of
the establishment ” troubled by his conscience.
His enemies too, the wives and children of his
victims, began to annoy him in a thousand differ
ent ways, as soon as they discovered that he was
susceptible of suffering in the maimer I have men
tioned.
Two years passed away. The dram-dealer
was still a haunted man ; and the evidence of deep
suffering was traced on his form, which had be
come thin and bent, and on his features, which
were sharp and haggard.
His friends bad often advised, and even urged
him to give up the traffic, and his o\v n family ha
joined warmly in the request. But firm to o stt
nacy in his purposes, he struggled on wit
fate. And yet never did he become so hardene
again, as not to bleed from the lash of Remorse,
whenever the drunkard's ragged and famishec
children, and pale and despairing wife, wandered
across the arc of his vision.
He is still a haunted man ! .
A strange destiny still flings the corpses of his
victims before his eyes. Never was man a more
perfect witness of the miseries he has fathered.
The eyes of the community are upon him to
wonder. His profits are small, his shop little fie
quented ; for no attraction of the bar can induce
topers to come within the atmosphere of the
Haunted Dram-Dealer. Yet he persists in hi
wretched employment, hoping that the heaven o
his soul will brighten at last, and unable to bear
the idea of yielding to the nobler demands of his
nature. But that will of his, so haughty and
strong, is itself fulfilling the Law ot Justiee.
He is haunted still !
A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY.
SAVANNAH, THURSDAY MAY 17, 1849.
•
AGENTS.
Mr. J. M. Boardman is our Agent for Macon.
Mr. S. S. Box for Rome.
Mr. Rout. E. Seyle for the State of South Carolina.
PHCENIX FIRE COMPANY OF CHARLESTON.
This fine body of Firemen paid a visit to our city on Thurs
day and Friday last. They were received at the wharf by
Oglethorpe and Washington Fire Companies, and escorted to
the Engine house of the former in Liberty Square, where a
collation was spread; they did not linger long around tho fes
tive board, and from thence they were conducted to their
quarters at the Pulaski house.
On Thursday afternoon at 3 o'clock, a parade was formed
in Liberty Square and marched to the junction of South Broad
and Bull Streets, where the Engines were placed in line,
Oglethorpe at the Cistern in Chippeway Square, Washington
at the Corner of Hull, and the Phoenix at the side of the In
dependent Presbyterian Church from whence she threw a
stream of water upon the steeple up to the cap of the
columns of the second tier of windows, she then played three
streams and changed places with the Washington,which threw
within 30 or 40 feet of the height of the Phoenix, through a
length of hose. The line was taken up and marched to Ar
mory Hall, where a collation was spread by the Savannah
Fire Company t—
“ A merrier set,
Within the limits of becoming mirth,
Sure never spent an hour’s talk withal.”
After the collation the members of Savannah Fire Company
• joined the ranks of the Phoenix and assisted in drawing their
engine to Liberty square.
In the evening a ball in honor of the guests was given at
Oglethorpe Hall, where
“ The music, and the banquet, and the wine, —
The garlands, tho rose-odors, and the flowers, —
The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments, —
The white arms, and the raven hair—the braids
Aud bracelets—swan-like bosoms —the thin robes,
Floating like light clouds ’twixt our gaze and heaven,
The many twinkling feet, so small and sylph-like,
* Suggesting the more secret"symmetry
Os the fair forms which terminate so well,”
was prolonged for many an hour—all was joy and happiness,
and it was with regret that we tore ourselves from the scene.
At 11 o’clock Friday morning, lunch was served at Armory
Hall by the Savannah Fire Company of which the Phoenix
partook, and at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, the Oglethorpe and
Phoenix Companies, led by martial music, drew the engine
of the latter to the Charleston wharf, and at eight o’clock in
the evening, escorted them from the Pulaski House to the
boat, whence they took their departure amidst the cheers of
the firemen and citizens of Savannah, who will long treasure
the memory of their visit.
RIOT IN NEW YORK.
The great mass of our readers doubtlessly have heard of the
recent deplorable outbreak in New York, so that it would be
but waste of room to repeat the tale. We will but briefly state
for the benefit of those yet uninformed of the matter, that
last Thursday and Friday an immense concourse of persons
attacked the Astor Theatre in New York ; the immediate
cause of this manifestation of public feeling being the quarrel
between the two great rival tragedians Forrest and Macready.
The latter being the obnoxious individual. The riot act was
read, and this being disregarded, cannon were fired by the
military upon the mob, 21 persons were killed, and some 25
or 30 wounded. Mr. Macready has gone to Boston to take
passage in the steamer for Europe.
FOR LIBERIA.
The bark Huma, Capt. Henry, left on Monday morning.
She takes out 184 emigrants. A portion of them are from
Charleston and South Carolina, and a few from Augusta and
the interior of this State, but much the greater number from
this place. Some fifty or sixty who entered their names to go
at this time, were unable to make their arrangements, and will
therefore wait another opportunity. 61 are professors of
religion;*s are preachers; 105 can read; 31 can write; 24
have purchased themselves, and paid an aggregate of $15,750>
money made by their own industry ; and 47 have been man
umitted. The company is composed mostly of parents and
their children, and many of the families are large. There
are 66 under 10 years of age, and 19 over 50. The Society
by this and other shipments is $20,000 in debt, and trusts to a
liberal public for relief.
ZW 3 The Board of Health have elected Dr. Soloman
Sheftall Chairman, Dr. S. A. T. Lawrence Chairman pro.
tem ., and P. M. Russell, Esq., Secretary and Treasurer.
masonic journo-marietta, oa.
Contents March Number: Objections to Masonry answered
—Freemasonry and Religion—Freemasonry and Education —
Editors’ Table.
April Number: Exclusiveness of Freemasonry—Acacia —
Reminiscences of the Past—lntemperance a Masonic Offence
Freemasonry and Woman —Qualifications and Duties of
Candidates for Freemasonry —Ancient Craft Masonry—The
Recognition—A Sketch —Editors’Table.
The typography of the present issue is much improved.
[y We inserted in our last an article concerning Campbell’s
4 Gertrude of Wyoming ” for which a somewhat captious
friend of ours blames us. He says it is not true that the de
scription of the valley is accurate, however beautiful the poem
may be as a poem. We must confess that a poetical license
was employed when M ngnolia trees were placed there, and
the crocodile, condor, and flamingo figure in the scenes he
describes. \Ye inserted the article without meaning to en
dorse its truth.
DIARRHEA.
Rice parched brown, and boiled or made in a broth, but we
believe the first is better, will frequently stop the Diarrhea—
Being not unpleasant to take, and a cheap remedy, always at
hand, we recommend it as worth remembering.
Siy After the business of the day has closed, and the heat
renders refreshment desirable during the evening walk, it
may be gratifying to many who promennde the Common and
woods out Bull Street, to learn that they can find Ice Cream,
Lemonade, Cakes, Ac., a stone’s throw from the Jail, in Jef
ferson Street, at an establishment fitted up by Mendenhall
for this purpose.
GP* An inquest was held on Friday last at the house of
Nicholas Hernandez, on the body of Bernard Centres, who
died from the effects ot a cut inflicted with a hatchet by Ed
ward Murray, on the sth inst., and a verdict of murder ren
dered.
The prisoner has been committed for trial at the next term
of the Court.
ty The Proprietor of the Mountain Banner, published at
Rutherfordton, N. C., advertises his paper for sale, he says :
“For a Printer, with capacity for the Editorial Department,
this would be a valuable investment.”
Gp The Cherokee arrived on Saturday morning in 66 hours
from wharf to wharf.
jy The last night of the Heron Family was a real bumper,
such as their delightful performances deserved.
eiiissiSrif iii
For A Friend of the Family.
BIRTH DAY LINES
Respectfully addressed to Miss on the arrival of
her Eighteenth Birth-Day.
BT L. T. VOIGT.
“ So guard the blosoms thou bearest now
That when Summer shall be o’er
The fruitage of Autumn tin every bough
Shall prove the Winter’s store,
And when Time’s brief season no changes bring,
Thou shalt know an everlasting Spring.”
Bernard Barton.
Hail to thy Summer—bright one! for the laughing Spring
hath flown,
The beauteous bud that blossom’d then, in the glorious rose
has blown, *
Like dew that gem’d that bloom of morn, thy girlhood’s pass’d
away,
And the dawning hails thee “ Woman ” on this, thy natal day t
And we perchance may scarce regret, as we behold the flower
Blushing in mature loveliness, the now sped blooming hour !
For though ’twas sweet to mark each leaf unfold its dewy
light,
Our joy was mingled aye with fear, lest aught that bloom
should blight.
Well may we—loved and lovely one ! well may we wish that
thou
Should’st ever find life’s devious maze as flowery, calm as now;
Smooth as the sky-reflecting stream, still may the peaceful tide
Laughing in light and loveliness, with thee all rapture glide.
If fervent prayer for other’s weal may aught avail on high,
Then will ours woo its choicest gifts, from the benignant sky,
Richly all wealth the soul holds dear on thee it still should
shower,
And thy glad path be redolent with every fragrant flower.
Yet, though we e’en would beggar Heaven to bless thee with
all joy,
We feel our prayers must fruitless, prove—no bliss without
alloy
May here be tasted, —though earth’s wealth were flung with
lavish hand, ‘
Still would thy soul, amidst it all, sigh for 44 the better land.”
Then, whilst thy morning yet is young, and the sun beams
bright above,
Fix thy fond trust bring thy pure heart to HIM whose
name is LOVE !
Now, “whilst the evil days come not —nor clouded years draw
nigh,
And thou no pleasure in them find ” —Oh to that refuge fly !
•
There changeless pleasures greet the bless’d, and streams of
rapture roll,
Up-gushing from the Fount of Life, to fill the ravished soul !
And when earth’s flowers by thy freed step no longer shalt be
trod,
Thy soul shall mount on angel wings up to the throne of God!
For A Friend of the Family.
THE MUTABILITY OF THINGS.- A MORAL ESSAY. *
How full of a poetic melancholy is the contem
plation of that gloomy destiny which overhangs
this sublunary scene ! How touchingly sad is the
reflection that all beneath the sun is under the
dominion of change and surely tending to destruc
tion. Yet such is the great law which controls
the economy of things. The fiat of Omnipotence
has gone forth through all her realms and upon
the wide front of nature’s vast domain stand in.
delibly impressed the marks of mutability and
decay. Every object within the broad circle of
her empire—all that makes imposing or renders
engaging—all that contributes wonder or lends
enchantment to the splendid pageant of creation,
unite to declare and attest this mournful truth. J t
is blazoned on the dazzling disk of the sun, and
written on the foam-wreathed crest of the sea;
it is graven with an iron pen upon the varied fea
tures of earth, and traced in diamond letters over
the azure dome of the firmanent. The crumbled
and prostrate ruin of to-day was the cloud-capt
summit of yesterday—the fair and blooming gar
den of to-day will be the dreary wilderness of to
morrow. Nature through all her m ultiplied phases
silently preaches to us of her passing away. The
eternal storm of change which sweeps the com
pass of her empire is spreading ruin and desola
tion in its destructive march, and soon every
vestige of this mighty fabric will be obliterated
by its tempest breath.
Thus, too, is it, and in a more emphatic sense,
with all the boasted works ol man. Upon the
most gigantic monuments and collossal structures
which human exertion has ever reared, the hand
of destiny has carved the gloomy inscription
“ Tempus edax rerum , tu que , ivvidiosa cetustas, omnia
dcstriutis .” Where now are the once powerful
and renowned kingdoms of antiquity? Alas!
the blaze of their glory, has become extinct and
their only existence is in the narrations ot h/s
----tory —the strains of eloquence or the songs of
poetry. Where, too, are the famous cities of
earlier days? Alas ! their pomp has vanished,
their splendors have faded, and all the pride ot
their former greatness now lies humbled in the
dust. Where is Babylon, with her magnificent
temples —her massive gates and adamantine
walls ! The loathful serpent now hisses among
her moss-covered stones, and the fierce hya?na
howls upon her dreary piles. The Euphrates
rolls his tide of waters through a desolate scene.
Where is Tyre, with her gorgeous palaces and
sun-lit towers ? The lowly fisherman spreads his
net upon the now forsaken spot where once the
proudest mart of commerce stood. Where is
Palmyra, with her stately edifices, her gilded
luxurious saloons —the famed pleasure
haunts and banqueting-rooms of kings and princes
and conquerors? Grim desolation now sits, like
a heartless victor, upon its ruined heaps, while
nought but the fitful screechings of the lonely
night-owl wakes the sleeping solitude. Where
is Salem, with her dazzling sanes and golden
domes? Her flashing minarets and gleaming
spires have vanished, and her very site become
a sterile waste on which the loose tent-cloth ot
the wandering Arab flaps in the desert-blast.
Where is Rome, with her galleries and porticoes,
her pavilions and colonades? Her triumphal
arches have Ion” since crumbled, and now the
ivy and the wall-flower idly clamber around the
clay-hut of the hermit. Such is the mutability of
all human productions. Time, like a giant con
queror, holds his onward march, ever strewing his
pathway with the wrecks and fragments of earth’s
hollow pageantry —ever scattering his road with
the dust and ashes of empty pomp. In the wan
tonness of his might he breaks down temples,
crushes altars, prostrates thrones, and desolates
kingdoms, and then shakes his hoary locks in
triumph over the ruin he has wrought.
Nor is the fame which man acquires ordinarily
more enduring than the works which confer it.
Occasionally a name rendered illustrious by noble
deeds and high achievements is preserved for the
admiration and eulogy of coming times. The
greatness of a master-spirit born to shape the
sentiments and mould the destinies of an empire,
may sometimes survive for a while in the impress
it has stamped upon its age. But the countless
thousands who struggle after immortal fame sink
from the recollection of mankind, as they pass
from the scenes of their earthly efforts. Human
glory is as fleeting and evanescent as the glittering
bow woven upon the transparent spray-shower of
a fountain, or the gorgeous tower painted on the
golden ridge of a sun-lit cloud. Where now is the
despotic prince whose unholy usurpations once
grasped the seat of power —and whose throne
flashed with the splendors of royalty ! His boast
ed sceptre has long since fallen, and all the
grandeur of his regal fortune withered and de
cayed. Where is the military chieftain beneath
whose banner mighty armies once gathered,
whose victorious car blazed with the rich spoils of
triumphant war ? His standard has long since
drooped—his trophies have perished, and the high
renown of his brilliant exploits past from the re
membrance of the world. Such is the transitory
and ephemeral nature of all things earthly. One
generation moves in upon the stage of action,
plays its brief part in the great drama of human
existence, and is then speedily displaced by
another. As age follows age, each succeeding
one developes new and more stirring scenes and
events, draws in upon itself the attention and
interest of the world, and thus crowds out all but
a few of the more prominent landmarks of that
which preceded it. In short, change is the great
law or principle of things—decay and dissolution
their appointed fate.
Truth is alone immortal, that truth which is at
once the essence and the reflection of the Deity>
and of her it has been well and beautifully
said
44 The eternal years of God are hers.” k*
•i
