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COS AM EMIR BAKTLEYT-EDITOR. TH E i) K»OCIS AT IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEEK IS COLOIIII 8 GEORGIA, BY C. E. BARTLETT fcc R. SLATTER at Tiiree Dollars per annum if paid in advance or Four Dollars at *lir> ond of tiie year It is expected that all application for auhscrintinti from a distance, will be accompanied with the money, Advertisements will be inserted at reasonable rates. Sales of land and negroes. bv adininis trators. executors <»r ff'iardians are required hy law to be he'd on the first Inesdav in the month, between tho hours of 10 jo clock in the forenoon 3in the afternoon, at the court house of the county in which tho property is situated Notice ofthese sales must he given in a public Gazette sixty days previous to the day of salo. Notice of the sale of personal properly must be given in a like manner forty days previous to he day of sale Notice to deh'ors & creditors of an estato must be published fortv days. Notice that all application will he made to the court of ordinary for leave to sell land must be published four months. O’Letters on business must be Post paid to insure attention trrVVe are authorised,to announce JOHN M. PATRICK as a candidate for fax Collector of Mu cogee county, at the ensuing January elec tion. Feb. 10. tde ate authorised to announce G \V. DILLIARD as a candidate for Clerk of the Sup rior Court of Muscogee count v, at the next Jan ary election Feb. 12. tde HEXRY B. MERS/FOM H ATTORNEYAT LAW. AS located himself in Talbotton, & will prac'ice Law in the neighboring coun ties. w3m. Talbotton, May Id 131. | AVV NOTICK.—.I. T. t' a]n p anil j„|, n _l_JSchley. have associated themselves together in tho practice of law. in Columbus. One of them will attend all the Co-’rts in the Chatahoochn circuit Letters upon business will he addressed to Camp & Schlev —J. T Camp will continue to practice law in the courts of A’abama in con nection with David Golightlv Fsq. J T CAMP JOHN SCHLEY. Fob 12th, 1831. 18 ts JOHN TAIL<>S7 ATTORNEY AT LA IT. ITTill practice in the several counties of Mue- ; vv cogee. Randolph, Stewart, Leo Marion, j Talbot, Harris, Meri feather, and Troup, in the ; Chafahoochee Circ i»: and in the Counties of Thomas. Decatur, Early, Baker, and Doolv, in the Southern O rcuit He inav be found, when not in attendance on the Cl re,nt, at his room at Mr Dilloid’s Tavern JOHN TAYLOR A LEMUEL MERREL, ATTORNEYS AT /.111. A/ If.L practice in partnership at the Appa ■ “ lachico'a Bay Mr Merrcl will attend regularly to - the business of their office, at the Bay, when not necessarily absent. Feh'y 12th. 18—f--o MATHE>I ATICAL, INSTRUMENTS For sale by L. J. DAVIES & Cos. March 13. 23 ts yjAHE PUBSCIRER lias Just received at the A COL,EMBUS ROOK. STATION ARY, ANDFANCY STORE , one and 'nr below Powers and Nafew oiv broad street—sllo Sheets of Musick, consist! g of Songs, March es, Waltzes, Oolilions, Reels, and for sale us cheap ns can he obtained in the northern cities- AfiSO —The following lute Novels: The Water Witch or the Skimmer of tho seas, 2 vols.; The lleiris of Biugess, 2 vols.; The Separation, 2do. Maxwell, 2 do Stories of a Bride, 2 do. The Siamese Twins, l„vol. Voya f'es and Discoveries of the Companions of Co ambus. 1 do. The Christian Ministry. 2 vols. Mason’s Farrier 1 vol. E. S. NURT »N May 4. ts brick. The subscriber ims 4100 Brick, which he will sell oil accommodating terms. L, C, ALLEN. Columbus, June 4. LITE RABY I* HEM IEM S. The publisher of the RURAL REPOSITO RY desirous of presenting his patrons with ori ginal matter worthy the extensive patronage hitherto received, of encouraging literary talent and exciting a spirit of emulation among his old correspondents, and others who are in the habit of writing for the various periodicals of the day, is induced to offer the following Premiums, which lie flatters himsetf they will consider de serving of their notice For the best ORIGIN AL TALE (to occupy not less than three pages of the Repository) S2O. For the second best, the Tokens for 1830 »V 31, and the third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh volumos of the Repository, handsomely bound For the third ditto, the Taibman for 1830,and the fifth, sixth and seventh volumes of the Re pository. For the best POEM, not less than forty nor over a hurdred lines. $5 For the second bc«t, the Atlantic Souvenir for 1831, and the third, fourth, tilth, sixth and sev enth volumes of the Repository. For the third ditto, the fifth, sixth and seventh volumes of the Repository. Communications intended for the prizes must he directed (nos 1 paid) to William I) Ktoddurd, Hudson, N. Y and forwarded previous to the first of July next—csch endow ng a scaled en velope of the name and resilience of the writ er, which will not bo opened, except attached to a piece entitled to one of the prizes. The mer its of the pieces will he determined by a Com mittee of Literary Gentlemen selected for the THE DEMOCRAT. €OLrflBlS, r.EOKGII, SATI BD4V, J|\i: ii, i§:h. POETRY. WOMAN. She was a Phantom of delight, When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moments ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight’s, too her dusky hair: But all things else about her drawn Fioni May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle and way-lay. I saw her upon nearer view, A Spirit, yet a Woman too! Her household motions light ands ee, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet: A Creature not too bright or good Fur human nature’s daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles And now I see, with eyes serene, The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller betwixt life and death: The reason firm, the temperate will, Euduranee,foresight, strength,and skill, A perfect woman, nobly planned. To warn, to comfort, and command: And yet a Spirit stili, and bright With something of an angel light. Wordsworth IS IT So? They have told mo that thou art Not what thy own lips have told, But a fickle thing whose heart Is as vain as it is cold: They have tol t rne that in turn, Pride and envy rule thy briast; That to-morrow thou wilt spurn What to-day thou covetest: Tell me truly, yes or no, Tell me, lady, is it so? They have said those eyes of thine, Which so fondly beam on me, Would with enual .= J.i,,, Were my rival near to thee: That those cheeks thus overspread With their blushes when we meet, Would assume as deep a red Were another at thy fo'et. Tell me. lady, yes or no, Tell mo truly, is it so? They have said that placid smile Is but meant to lead astmy; hat those lips are lips of guile, Anil those eves are false as they; That tlnm now couldsl bid farewell Without pain, without regret- • Such, alass ! the tales they tell; Not that I believe them—yet, .Answer truly, yes or no, Answer, lady, is it so ? MISCELLANEOUS. From the ■Spit it amt .turners ij the rige. Eragmcnts of an Antedeluvian Diary. EY MISS JEWSBCRV. REFLECTIONS Os Methuselah in his youth—in meddle age —and in old age. To-day I am an hundred years old.— llow blissful are the feelings of boyhood! My senses are as acute as the tree with the shrinking leaf. My blood bounds j thro’ my veins as the river pours through the valley, rejoicing in its strength. Life lies before me like another plain of Slu nar—vast unoccupied, inviting—l will fill it with achievements and pleasures! lit a bout sixty years it will be time for me to 1 think of marrying; my kinswoman Zd lah will by that time have emerged from girlhood; she already gives promise, I hear, of comeliness and discretion—twen ty years lienee 1 will pay a visit to her fa ther, that I may see how she grows, mean while, 1 will build a city to receive her when she becomes my wile. ####*# Nearly three centuries have passed since my marriage. Can it be? It seems hut yesterday since I sported like a young j antelope round mv father’s tent, or climb ing the dark cedars, nestled like a bird a niong the thick boughs—and now 1 am i a man in authority, as well as in the prime of life. I lead out my trained servants to the (iglit, and sit head of the council, be neath the very tree where, an infant, my matlierlaid metoslecp. Jazed, my youn gest born, a lovely babe of thirty sum mers, is dead, hut 1 have four goodly sons remaining. Anil my three daughters are fair as their mother, when I first met her in the Acacia grove, where now stands one of iny city watch-towers. —They arc the pride of the plain, no less for their acquirements than their beauty. No damsel carries the pitcher from the foun tain with tlie grace of Adah, none can dry the summer fruit like Azuban —anil none can fashion a robe of skins with the skill of Milcuh. When their cousin Mu tinied Ims seen another lini*' century, lie shall take the choice of the three. ***••• My eight hundredth birth day! And j now 1 li • I the approach of age ami infir- inity. My heard is become white as the blossoms ol‘ the almond tree. Imn coti -trained to use a staff when I journey, j the stars look less bright than iormerlv; | J ! he flowers smell less odorous; ',l h;y\ e ! I laid Zillah in the tomb of the rock; Mil- ; I call is gone to the dwelling of .Mahalecl;; : my sons take my place at the council A i in the held; all is changed. Tin: long fu ture L become the short past. The earth is lull of violence; the ancient and hon orable are sinking beneath the young and the vicious. The giants stalk thro’ the length and the breadth of the land, where once dwelt a quiet people; all is changed. The beasts of the field and the deep grovl press on us with unwonted fury; tradi tions, visions, and threatenings are abroad. V* hat fearful doom hangs over this lair world, I know not; it is enough that I am leaving it; yet another five or eight score years, and the tale will he complete. But have I, in very deed, trod this earth near ly a thousand years? It is false, lam yet a hoy. I have had a dream—a long, long busy dream; ot buying and selling; inar rying and giving in marriage; ofhuilding and plantthar, feasting and warring and rejoicing; loving and hating; but it is false to call it a life. Go to—it lias been a vision of the night; and now that I am awake, ! will forget it. “Pamech, my son, how long is it sice we planted the garden of oaks beside the river. Was it not yesterday?’? “My father dost thou sport? Those oaks cast si broad shadow w hen my sister carried me beneath them in her arms, and wove me chaplets of their leaves.” Thou art right, my sou, and lam old. Lead me to thy mother’s tomb, and there leave me to meditate. Y\ hat am I the bettet for my past length of being? Where will he its records when lam gone? They are yonder—on all sides. Will those massy towers fall? Will these golden plains become desolate? Will the children that call me father for get me? The seers utter dark savings up on their harps, and they sting of the fu ture; they say our descendants shall he men of dwindled stature; that the years of their lives shall be contracted tc the span of our boohood; hut what is that future to me? 1 have listened to the tales of Paradise—nay, in the blue dis tance, I have seen the dark tops of its ce dars. I have heard the solemn melodies of Jubal when he sat on the sea shore, and harping!”’l have seen I s the vieit ants of men—l have seen of all perfection—what if the future to me?”* * STEPHEN KEMBLE AND Tlil? SON OF NEPTUNE. £ Kemble was, perhaps, the best Sir John Falstaff which the British stage ever saw. llis fine countenance and his command ing figure,filed him admirably for the part, Sir John was ‘a proper man,’ while the natural protuberance in front, made him the very bran ideal of the the inveterate sack drinker. The following anecdote was told bv a person xvho had froquently hear.l it from Kemble himself. Kemble was performing with a comjWSßv in a sen port town, somewhere on the sea coast of England, when a ship which had been long at sea, came into port, and sent her: crew on shore, with plenty! of money, rnul ; full of fun and frolic, to en joy themselves after a long cruize, according to their va rious tastes and pursuits. ‘One of this kidney’ found his way to the box-office of the theatre, which at that time was open only three times a week, and, enquiring for the manager, told him with, all the characteristic bluuderncss of a sailor, that he wanted to see a pluy. ‘Very well’ replied the manager, ‘come to-morrow evening, my good fellow, and you shall have two plays.’ This, however, did not at all accord with Jack’s fancy. He was not at all disposed to wait till to-morrow evening, he wanted his play performed that night. After a good deal of wrangling, and seeing that the sailor was bent on having liis own way, the manager touched upon the expenses, telling him that it would require a considerable sum of money.— ‘Money said Jack, with a look of the most infinite contempt, ‘d n, how much will it take?’ ‘About thirty pounds*’ an swered Stephen. Jack said not a word, hut drawing his purse from his bosom, counted down thirty guineas in the calmest manner possible. The bargain was now, of course, fully concluded, hut a question remained to he asked. \\ hat, would you like performed sir V said the obsequious manager as he pocketed the gold pieces with evident satisfaction.— ‘Play*’ said Jack, chuckling at the idea of being sir’d, ‘Let me see. Ay, ay, give us Falstaff-—you have a fellow here who does that devlish well. Av, r.v, sir,’ said the tar, with increasing good humor, as he ran over his theatrical reminiscences, ‘let me have the old hoy with flic round fore castle, built like a Dutch luggor, and lur ching like a Spanish galleon in a heavy sea. D-- n, give me Sir John Fid stall'! What a prime Commodore the old fellow Aiould have made, had his worship lived in these times. Shiver mv timbers, but I could have sailed the ’varsal world with him, and stood by him in wreck or fight, d— , to the last plank.' Having pronounced this on the charac j ter of stout Sir John, the affair was closed, and all the arrangments made to Jack’s complete satisfaction. One clause in j particular was most pointedly urged, that j not a single soul was to he in the house ) but himself. ‘Remember’ said Jack,‘not | a lubber of them must bo seen, either in the hold, the shrouds or the top, or by the Diomede! I’ll have him keel-hauled by the fiddlers !’ So saying, the tar departed, ni’ghtly pleased with his bargain, himself, and the whole world. Night came, few of the ochestra took their accustomed places: the house was well lighted, and every thing being in readiness, when just at the hour, Jack hurst into the lower gal lery, and running across the seats, much in the way he would have run along the jollv boat, he placed himself, with hat on one side, and arms akimbo, in the centre ;of t'se front bench. By way of overture, he tailed for Jack’s Delight, and the sai lors Hornpipe : and these being playing to liis liking; lie bawled out. ‘Now up in; lads, clew up your mainsail, and pipe all hands aboard!’ The curtain immedi atdy drew up, and the play of‘Henry the Faurth, part first,’ commenced. Jack stt out the first scene with a good deal of patience, hut when his favorite appeared iii the second scene, with the prince, “Three cheers our gallant seaman give.” in a tone which would hove drowned a dozen Brahains, Sir John bowed low r to this token of marked approbation, and the play proceeded, while Jack sat with liis whole soul in. his eyes, enjoying the rare humor of the unimited and inimitable Falstaff.’ He continued in evident de light as long as Sir John remained on the stage, hut whenever he made his exit, the play was performed in dumb show, and amid a torrent of reproaches from the ‘au dience,’ who kept bawling from the top of his voice to his grace of Northumberland and other distinguished characters. ‘Avast there !! sheer off ye lubbers! Baley your jawing tacle, you there wit the carving knife! Sheer off sheer ofi’j bring Fal staff in bed nto you! Thus did Jack alternately applaud and condemn during the whole performance. When it was finished, and the green ‘main sail’ had been once more dropped ‘on fleck,’ he rose and was preparing to depart, when one of the players met him at the tloor of the gallery, and informed him that all was not over, for that the afterpiece was yet to he performed. ‘ls Falstaff to be ill it ?’ ‘No, sir., ‘Oh, then and n the after -1”” - . „ n r j And so saying, he walked out, perfow.. ..a with his thirty guineas worth. From the Lady's Booh. A COQUET. Do you sec in that drawing-room a lit tle woman, with and. rk brown hair, an arch and lively eye, with a smile which Venus herself might envy? Her dress of white crape is falling oil her shoulders, and her wreath ol roses across her forehead, on pears as if chance alone had placed it there? She is encircled by homage and Battery: she draws all mankind towards her, and every tiling around her seems re plete with charms; she lias sense enough to render every one pleased with himself. If an old officer draws naar, she discour ses on valour, and boasts of the gloiy of Bridgewater and New Orleans, as she passes over her forehead her rosy fingers. Does a young student appear to listen to her, who lias made himself con spicuous by liis oratory, she extols, above every other gift, that of eloquence, and eulogizes the talents displa;4H at the bar, as she carelessly advances forward a little foot, modelled by the graces. A young man, something of a philosopher, has just repeated some cold maxim, and she di rectly speaks in admiration of the wis dom of Solon, while she discovers a smile which would have inspired the lyre of A nacreon. Never, in a word, was a coquet so perfect in the part she is playing; nev er did a woman unite together more pow ers of seduction, with more tlesire of plea sing; ease and lightness in conversation; fascination in her smile, gaiety in her looks; she appears to possess all that can animate, charm, and, perhaps deceive— yet she does not deceive any one, for she sports with her attractions, as a child plays with his toys or flowers; it is by the same arms that she draws towards her, and re pels every attack of gallantry, and, under this three-fold rampart of coquetry, her heart, in appearance trifling and cold, conceals the sigh which it breathes lor one alone, while her lips bestow smiles on a thousand others. But do not let us follow that coquet with the blue eyes; when retired to the solitude of her chamber, she takes her wreathe from her hair, and unties her sash. Perhaps then, a tear dims the lus tre of her eyes, heretofore so brilliant. Perhaps, a hitter smile passes over those lips, that appeared a short time ago, so bewitching! Here she is about to take up' again all the wretchedness of her heart; but here vve ought to finish the pic ture; it belongs not to the pen of a friend to unveil the heart of another. We ought only to study the science of knowing how our coquetry maybe reckoned a virtue, and using ourselves a certain degree ol dissimulation in society, so as to conceal the weukiiessof our hearts, and letting no one know the empire he may have over, them, which would be much more dan gerous than that ho might obtain over onr imagination. VOJL. I-\O. Fran the Fretting 'i Tmtenjtr. HOLDING THE BEAR. Two men, neighbors, in the then di>- f riot of Main, had lien in the weeds du ring the day, and it turning tow ards eve ning, w hen within a mile of their hon es, observed a large hear making directly for one of them, and to avoid h.s grasp, he dodged Im.liiud a sizeable tree. The Bear sprang and grasped his foie paws a round the tree, the man lnimediatelv sei zed them and held them fast. After con sultation how they should despatch the Bear, it was agreed that the man who was at liberty, should proceed home, ob tain an axe, and return imnied.ately and despatch him. The man arrived home, related the situation of their iii igld or to his wife, and his plan of killing the Bear —But not living much in a hurry, direct ed Ins wife to prepare suppi r. rfhil he would take some la fore he start! and, which was accordingly done. After nipper was over, and he taking several turns from (lie lire tnthe door, and from the door to the fire, and lounging nxfhilc, com Irak and he would go to l:cd early and he stirring by times in the morning, and release his Iriciul. Morning arrived, the nxe got in readiness—he then tells his wife lie hi lie \eillic would have his breakfast before lie went—breakfast being over, and sexi ral small chores done about the house, he h i'tirelv shoulders liis axe, and shortly fiuds his friend in the seme position, very patiently holding the Bear, and waiting his return. On liis approaching the spot ami just raisingthe axe to giie the mortal blow, liis friends says stop, I have suffered enough holding the Bear, you come and take my place, and let rne have the satis faction of killing him. This was readi ly assented to, and the man after being released, and his neighbor in the situation he had been, shoulders the nxe and walks off, leaving his friend in full possession of the Bear in liis turn. A Lawyer’s Letter. —The folloiwug is said to he the copy of a letter sent by n member of the legal profession to a per son who was indebted to one of his cli ents:—“Sir I am desired to apply to you for £2O due to my client, Mr. Jones; if you send me ihe money by this day week, you w ill oblige me; if not, I will oblige you. ini- r r v cwiixc CAI.AMITY! Eire at Eayetterdle. —'l here. Were no papers receiver! iron) j uyi-iiev me I y yes terday s mail, but we liaie been favored with the following extract ol a letter from a gentleman at Fayetteville,by which it will he seen that the lire was extensive and the loss very great. “ Fayetteville, May 30.— Sir —I wrote you yesterday, but understand no mail was sent oil. '1 he whole town of Fayettcv ille is literally in ashes. The fire commenced in the N. YV. corni r of the Market square, and for about halt an hour was confined to that square. The Town house then caught, and tin nee the fire was communicated, as I believe, to the other squares. Much property was re moved, hut attcrvvurdsburnt in the streets and lots. The 1 resbyterian and Episco pal churches, although remote from the thickly settled part of the town, w ere des troyed, as also the Catholic Chape 1. 'i he Bridge across the creek (Eccles Bridge) was destroyed. The fire was arrested North, near the Court House; East, be low Liberty Point; .South, at the State Bank; and West, above AJrs. Burge’s Hotel. No life lost. In three hours all was consumed. I can form no estimate of the amount of loss. The Banks of Cape Fear and United Stales, sand then papers. It is said, but 1 know not with what truth, that the specie in the L’. S. Bank is in the ruins, lor one-third to a half mile square, is a mass of rums. The Howard Insurance Company’s loss is §20,000 to §30,00.” Another letter of the same date, says— “\\ e had one of the most awful fires In re yesterday, that has ever occurred m this country. Not a Store, Bank, Church, or Y\’arc-house, and but very levy dwelling houses, remain—all consumed, and little or no property saved; even money could not he saved. This place is ruined. It is all confusion to-day. All is oncgeucr w reck and ruin.” Another letter states, that the loss of individual property is nearly total. The effects of the United States Bank, ex cept the specie, is saved. The specie was still in the vault, and » belief is ex pressed that it will sustain no material loss. \Ve doubt not the City Council of Charleston will forthwith adopt such mear sures as xvili assist to relieve the immedi ate wants of the sufferers at Fayetteville. In so general a conflagration, there must he hundreds who have not the means ol’ procuring necessary daily sustenance. In such a case vve are confident the citizens of Charleston would not suffer an appeal to their liberality to be made in vain. Charleston Con. Mr. Ingham’s letter asserts that there never was any official discord among the j members of the late Cabinet. It wa known before, that the want of harmony ! was lri.m social and not official causes— social causes, however, connecting.thera- I selves with v lilieal. T ftir?irrc*d I Vhig