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Vol. xx-v. THE NE WS. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, BY Isl. J. KA.PPEL, Proprietor. At Three Dollars per annum, payable at the time of subscribing, or Three Dollars & FtPTY-cENrs if not paid within six months. No paper will be discontinued, unless at the option of the publisher, without Dio settlement ‘"ofjail arrearages. Advertisements not exceeding one square lirst insertion, seventy-five cents; and for each subsequent insertion, fifty cents. A reduction of 25 per cent, will be made to those who advertise by the year. (gj Our Advertising friends are requested to mark on their advertisements the number ■of insertions they wish us to give them—other wise they will be published till forbid, a.id ■charged accordingly. Letters on business must come po.ttvir.il ■to insure attention. P OUTR IT • THE BRIDE. A fringe of dewy leaves along the branches droop, That overhang the cottage eaves, where stand a bridal group; •In fairand laughing bands, the maidens far and wide ■Have brought fresh roses in their hands, to deck the fair young bride. Before the man of prayer, they slowly gathered round, As silent as the floating air, that floats without a sound, As with a downcast brow, close to her lover’s side, •Comes forth, in raiment white as snow, the young and timid brido. How beautiful she seems, ns o’er her soft brown hair The sunset flings its golden gleams, and forms a halo there ; While o’er her features play, the love she cannot hide, Whose soft expression seems to say, I am thy happy bride. No cold vain look is there, but all is soft and meek; Upon her virgin forehead fair, and o’er her dimpled cheek, A something soft and warm, that round her seems to glide, Involves as with a heavenly charm, the young and spotless bride. There’s a whispered vow of love, as side by side they stand, And the drawing off a snow-white glove, from a little trembling hand ; And the glitter of a ring, and a tear that none may chide; ■ These—these have changed that girlish thing, -and she is now a bride. No shade is on her brow —she feels without a fear The trusting love that all may know, who wed in their own sphere ; For he who clasps her frame, all flush’d with love and pride, Bestows on her an honest name, and takes her for his bride. Sweet bride! he’ll ne’er forget, when ’neath thy father’s cot He met thee, like a violet, within a shady spot. ’ Thro’ all the balmy air, and breathing world beside, There’s nought to him so soft and fair, as thou, his blessed bride. Sweet tie! that links as one, two spirits fond and true; What—what is all that time has done, or all that time can do ! Recorded vows of love, in Heaven fore’er abide ; And none shall part, save One above, the bridegroom and the bride, AMELIA. Louisville Literary Liews Letter. mi s ctal, l a a b; o is. WOOING AND WINNING.” Courting a pretty girl when both love, is a very interesting affair. Not a doubt of that.* By t i f you love, ami she don't, then farewell fair dreams. The hope n> vviy /her wears away into a weary task, ,spfl perseverance then may pause, “ in that behalf to toil again no more. Yet there are those who think to win success in such “ a case,” bv coaxing and kind words. Vain hope! A humming-bird upon its tiny, tireless wing, coquetting with the sunlight and the (lowers, or dashing in its dream-like beauty—like a thought— from opening bud to fragrant blossom, were easier caught than such unloving fair one, in the smiling gladness of her morning t bloom. Win first the love of her you jove, an 4 courtship ceases to be a mere |iumming-bird chase; formality warms into fervency, and a in a happy marriage, is the pleasant end and “ upshot” thereof.— Franklin ( Tenn .) Weekly Review. he ■ . S* “ | JliSk mm . JEJ W W ESP y TIIE ART PRESERVATIVE OF ALL ARTS: When Tamerlane had finished building his pyramids of seventy thousands ‘human .-knlls, and was seen standing, at the gate of Dumas cus, glittering with steel, with his liattlo-nxo on his shoulder, till llio fierce hosts filled to new victories and carnage, the pale on-looker might Imie fancied that nature was in her throes--lor Havoc and Despair had taken pos session of the earth, and the sun of manhood , seemed setting in seas of blood. Y’et it. might I be on that very gala day of Tamerlane, a little hoy was playing nine pins in the streets of Muntz, whose history was more important to them ttiau Tumcriune’s! Tile Tartar Khan, with his shaggy demons of the wilderness, passed away, like the whirlwind, to he for gotten forever—and that German artizan has wrought a benefit, which is yet immeasurably expanding itself, and will continue to expand throughout all countries and all times. Wliat arc the conquests and expeditions of the whole corporations of captains from Waiter, the Pennyidss to Napoleon Bonaparte, compared with the moveable types of Johanne Faust ? [From the Gentleman's Magazine ] SCENES IN THE MESS. [By the Author of “ Old Ironsides iff u Lee, Shore.] “ Give us a yum, gentlemen,” says the Lieutenant, pulling down his little waist coat over his little belly, and slewing him self in bis chair, so as to turn his deal ear towards the company. “ Weil,Doctor,” says the Purser, tak ing another and heavier pull at the hal yards, “ did you ever hear how the old Culloden lost her sticks just about here, many years ago ?” No,” cries the Doctor, joined by the voices of the whole mess; let us hear it,” “ Well, then,” says the Purser, “ here it goes.” THE DEAD MAN’S LEDGE. Not more than one hundred miles from the southern extremity of England, rises in awful majesty above tile tempestuous ocean, the dreadful breakers of the Dead Man’s Ledge. Nothing can exceed the so litary appearance—the look of dreary loneliness they present the eye of the watchful seaman when the heavy swell of Biscay comes rolling up towards the North ern Ocean, and the light scud spreads its flitting screen of frosted silver before the face of the broad red harvest moon. When the night comes on in black rolling sha dows from the winward, and the stormy petrel calls his little band together to dance upon the white foam that hisses in the ves sel’s wake, then may be heard the terrific music of the Dead Man’s Ledge, louder than the wail of the canvass-spliCim* tem pest, louder than the moan of the wilder ness of waters, as it heaves xip itsblacken breast, to own its God. From the day of tho earliest navigators, these rocks have beer, famous in story, and when the shadows, of evening settle upon the deep, wo bo unto the outward-bound mariner that sees not. their dark summits sink in the waste of foam capped waves astern. It was the commencement of the nine teenth century, when a heavy armed cor vette, under double reefed topsails, came running before a heavy south-wester, and just as evening discovered St. Agnes’ light ahead. Proudly she dashed along the billows, and with the setting'of the watch, a lantern rose to her ensign peck, and a heavy cannon mingled its note with the thunder of the elements around. A large ship now rose upon the horizon astern, and soon a light gleamed over her purpled deck. A bright flash soon showed that the cannon of tho three-decker has answered the signal of her consort, and’ then the thick haze of the evening stotm hid them from each other’s view. “ Forecastle, there,” thundered the offi cer on the deck. “ Aye, aye, sir,” answered the master’s mate. “ Keep a bright look-out ahead, sir.” “ Aye, ave, sir. The captain now came upon deck; long and anxiously he looked towards the light, ; and then, ns his eve rested upon a break in the waters ahead, he said— “ There they are, the black devils. Mr. Catherpin, send the best men to the wheel.” “ Aye, avo, sir,” said the first lieufonant; and soon a hardy set of old quarter-mas ters grasped the spokes. * • “ Man the relieving tackles,” thundered the captain. They were manned instantly ; the ship answered her helm promptly ; the crested billows broke all around her, but not a wave dared to kiss her decks. “ The storm increases, sir,” said the first lieutenant, touching his hat. “ Furl the top-sails, and set the try sails,” roared the commander, above tho howling of the blast. Dark forms glid'd up the riging like shadow, and soon the top-sails were furled, the try-sails at the samo litne caught the wind, and the spanker almost started from, the bolt-rope. Washington, (Wilkes county, Ga.) August (), 1840. ” Have axes laid by the masts—this is no time for idlers—call all hands,” said the captain. “ All hands,” cried the boatswain. “ All hands,” shouted the boatswain’s mates, and all hands stood upon deck. J hen might one mart look another in the lace, and read wonder and terror mingling ■ together there. “ VVe have carried away the spanker, sir,” shouted the captain of the after-guard, j as iie went across the dock iike lightning, j in a told ol the [altered canvass. “ Eel it go, and be d—d,”, said the offi cer of tlie deck. “ Gant over tho spanker-hootn, you lubbers ; brace the yards to the wind,” shouted the captain, and they went like the spokits of a wind-mill wheel. “ Here she comes,” shouted the star board cat-head watch, as he jumped from his post, and landed upon the cook’s head, who had at that moment popped it out of the gully-hatch, to catch a view of the sur rounding country ; which, according to the Irishman’s geography, “ was plaguv near an island, lor it wiy entirely sur rounded by water.” “ Gorry mighty, shipped a sea, with short jacket and “breeches,” said Cull’, as he rolled down on the gun-deck with his tormentors in the slack of the astonished look-out-man’s unmentionables, who fol lowed him like a clap of thunder after a flash of black lightning. “ bon ho buttered, you son of a sea conk, said Jack, kicking the Guineaman’s shin with his storm-stay bool, and cutting his “toasting-fork” adrift with his knife. “ A pretty affair you are, to interfere with a man on duty ; why, d’ye see, if you had been down in your smoke-house, I should have had a decent fall, and been uoon duty with a whole spanker sheet again—but you, you old woolly-headed son of Nebu chadnezzar’s grandmarnq, when she eat grass with Hoshic.Twoshick, and to bed they went; you must get in my way, and. injure my two-pronged sceptre, and be blessed to you. Belay there your black jaw, or i’ll cheapen your ivory I” After this burst of natural eloquence, Jack went upon deck; while tho darkey hobbled to the galley, mutterir )f r— Ho, bo! Mr. Jack, never mind, Pit sweeten your broff yet; yah, yah, yah, yah !” While this rough and tumble was car ried on below, we trvjst not for a moment suppose that the hubbub above had ceased. When the cat-bead watch sang out, “ Here she cor iies ,” he had no allusion to a sea. A moment more, and the three decker was near at hand—on. one side, and stretching out to leeward, was the ledgo, and to windward was their consort, unmanageable, in tho act of running them down. “Hard up your helm,” shouted (he officer of the deck ; but it was too late—tho Culloden came sweeping down like a deer before the hounds. Her main mast. tottered in its step, her top-sails hung in tatters—the jib hung flapping against her sides—the waters gurgled along Jjer careering guns ; and then, to complete the horror of the scene, the men at the.-wjtqgj were thrown senseless upon the doc,k.’ She broached for a moment, theja awfiy went her top-masts and flying-ftp, and down came her main-mast with an awful crash. “ We are lost !” shouted an old seaman to liis mess-mate in the co'vette’s rigging. “ There is no hope,” said the captain, as he stood calmly amid a dozen officers, holding on to the coinpanfoK, railing. “ Good bye, gentlemen—.(jJprtbleks vou— you have done your duty’.”” “Oh, God,” shrieked aT'saildr’s wife, as she ran across that sorrowftil deck, * and pressed her infant to her .breast, “ my husband ! my child !” At this moment the. captain of tho cor vette sprung to her side; lie looked at the old quarter-master, her husband, who stood at the wheel. “No hope,” said the old sea dog; “ farewell, Bess, and my darling.” It was enough ; in a moment the sailor’s wifi: and child were launched into the deep, and floated astern on a grating, while the captain, with a fixed look, stood at his quarters. Crash came the Culloden upon her con sort, and in a moment the corvette went down in the dark waters, and the heavy three-decker passed over her. Wild was the yell that rose above that midnight wave to Heaven—dreadful was the gurgle of the biJlows as it closed over “ pennons, spar, and silk.” A moment, and she rode the waters- like a thing of life —another, and the sea snake crawled through her port-holes, and slimy things sported upon her decks of glory. “ Breakers'ahead I’’ shouted the master of the’ Culloden, as she coursed along on her cruise of death. “ We cannot weather them, unless we clear the wreck,” said the commodore. “ Culloden’s away, -clear the wreck,” thundered the first lieutenant; and throw ing down the trumpet, he caught an axe, and headed the gallant waisters. Away went the wreck, with a tremend ous crash ; a single sea broke, over the poop, sweeping as though a fire had passed over it, and then tihe ■ old three-decker hauled her wind, and shot “past the ledge like a flash oflight. . “ We arc clear,” said, the commodore, breathing a long breath; “can you seel any thing of our consort’s wreck?” “ A white mass is floating upon the wn-! ter to windward, sir,” cried the signal mid shipman. “ It is a woman and a child,” said the quarter-master; “ let us save her.” An hundred persons, oflivors and men, now hung over the sides with ropes—the I sea having become much smoother inside! tho reel—and soon the quarter-master’s ! widow and child lay dead upon the vessel’s j deck. “ No hope,” said the doctors oftheCul lodcn, turning iway from the bodies with ] eyes fill-'J witl.i tears. “ Let them be buried with their mess-1 mates,” said the commodore, in a liuskv ! voice. The bodies were soon sewed in one ham- j mock, add then, with a seaman’s prayer, they were launched forth to join the swol len hundreds that danced upon the agitated billows, cold ii: death. Morning came, andwith it a calm ; the j ocean was like a sleeping mill-pond; the j light-house stood solitary at a distance— the Culloden lay at anchor in shore, with-! out a spar' —a part of a wreck rested upon j the Dead Man’s Ledge—upon its taffrail a lonely heron perched, and the. wave, as it. gently broke against the foot of the rocks, and washed the sand from the. stern, showed to the gaze of the beholder the name of the gallant Blenheim. Girards and Aslors of Antiquity. Marcus Croesus did not consider a man rich, unless his annual indonie was sufficient to sup port a Roman legion of men. His property was estimated to amount to four millions of dollars, but Pliny says Silla was more affluent,. Cains Coecilus Isode.rus loft on his death, as it appears by his will, 3,600 yoke of oxen, 250.000 other domestic animals, 4,160 slaves, and over §1,000,000 in money. He ordered that the expenses of his funeral should beait least §22,000. His other property was consi dered equal to bis cattle, other animals, slaves and money. Varro states when Pnmpey in vaded Judea, Ptolmey supported 8000 cavalry at his own private expense, and that he daily set a table of 1000 covers, at which each guest drank from a golden goblet. Bat Pytheus of Bythinia excolled those individuals in wealth, for ho presented Xerxes, on his march to Greece, with a golden plane tree and a golden grape vine; and gave an entertainment to all his army of 7,800,000 men: and offered to ad vance the pay, and furnish the wheat for the whole army, if the king would only grant that five of h;s sons, whom he most loved, should remain with,, him and console him in his old age. ‘ Still Pytheus ceases to appear rich when his wealth is compared with Croesus’s. — Jeffersonian. Qualities for a Wise —A bachelor says, that all he should ask for in a wife, would be, a good temper, health, good un derstanding, agreeable physiognomy, good figure, good connection, domestic habits, resources of amusement, good spirits, con versational talents, elegant manners— money ! [The unreasonable rascal.] There were no newspapers in the days of Job, for instead of saying—“ Oh ! that mine enemy would write a book,” lie would have said, “ Oh ! that mine enemy would edit a paper. “ Papa,” says a little fellow the other day, “ wasn’t Jobe an editor ?” “ Why, sonny ?” “ Because the Bible informs us, that he had much trouble, and was a man of sor row all the days of his life !” REFLECTION. The Past—where is it? It has fled. ‘ The Future ? It may never come. Our friends departed ? With the dead. Ourselves ? Fast hastening to the tomb." ’ What are eartffs joys ? The dews of morn. Its honor? Ocean’s wreathing foam. Where’s peace? In trials meekly borne. And joy! In Heaven, the Christian’s borne. Attempt to Assassinate the Queen of England and Prince Albert. —An attempt was made to assassinate the Queen and Prince Albert on the 10th of June by a young man named Oxford. He'took his stand on Constitution Elili, up which the Queen’s carriage passed oil its way to Hyde Park, and as it. came abreast of him fired deliberately twice, the first time at the Prince and the second at the Queen—nei ther of the balls taking effect. He wns’ immediately seized, and committed lb,- tri al on the charge of high treason. Papers of a treasonable character were found at his lodgings, indicating the existence of a secret society under the name of “Young England,” the objects and purposes of which were supposed to be ofa most nefa rious character. His trial was to take place on tho 19th of July. Good. —On one of the steamboats going from New York to Albany, a party of office-holders were drinking toasts to Mr. Van Buren, and the Administration, and called upon one of the sons of old Ireland, who was present, for his toast, with the promptness, characteristic of his native isle, he said— Here’s to our fathers and mothers, Likewise to ould Ireland, too ; Down with Martin Van Buren, And up with old Tippecanoe. | - ~ • -■■ i , I ‘-A ----i ‘l. ••■ ; *JT*aSMOPLIi’S TM'IiGT. For I'li siil, nt, WILLIAM HENRY II UtlllsON, I'lie invincible Hero of Tippecanoe—the in corruptible- Statesman -the inflexible lb publican —the pah id Firm, / rj Ohio. For Vic.e-Fresiilcnt, JOHN .TYLER, ft Shite Right's Republican of tlie School, of ’9S— one of Virginia's noblest sons, unit emphatically one of America's most saga cions, virtuous ami patriotic Statesmen. For Congress. [ELECTION ON THE FIRST MONDVY IN OCTOIIER I 1840 ] R. W. HABERSHAM, -f Habersham, V\ ILLIAM C. I)AWSON. of Greene, JULIUS C. ALFORD, of Troup, LUUKNIUS A. NISBET, of Bibb, LOTT WARREN, oj Sumter, THOMAS BUTLER KING, of Glynn, ROGER L. GAMBLE, of Jefferson, JAMES A MERRI WETHER, xf Putnam, THOMAS F. FOSTER, of Muscogee. For Electors of President and Vice Presi dent. [ELECTION THE FIRST MONDAY IN NOVEMBER, 1840.] GEORGE R. GILMER, of Oglethorpe, Gen. DUNC AN L. CLINCH, of Camden, Cm,. JOHN W. CAMPBELL, of Muscogee, Ma.i. JOEL CRAWFORD; of'Hancock, CHARLES DOUGHERTY, of Clark, SEATON G R ANTLAND, oj Baldwin, Gen. ANDREW MILLER, of Cass, Gen. W. \v. EZZARD. of De Kalb, C. I!. STRONG, of Bibb, JOHN WHITEHEAD, of Burke, Gen. E WIMBERLY, of Twiggs. rm~ r -1-r-pi ■■ .111111 P O Ii I Tl€ A L. OLD TIPPECANOE. During the celebration of the Fourth of July at Columbus, Mr. Allen G. Bass was loudly called upon for a song ; in response to tho call, Mr. Bass gave the following in his happiest style. It. is uuuccessry to say, it went off amid roars of laughter and applause. Air— “ Rosin the Bow.” Come all ye good Whigs of old Georgia, And all ve sick Vanocrats, too; Como out from among the foul party, And vote for old Tippecanoe. Tbeqrreat twenty-second is coining, And the Van-Jacks begin to look blue; For, alas! there's no chance for poor Martin, If we’ll stick to old Tippecanoe. I, therefore, .will give you a warning, Not that any good think it will do, i For I’m certain, you all are a going, To vote for old Tippecanoe: Then let us be up and a doing, Ami cling to our cause well and true ; I’ll bot you a fortune, we’ll boat them, With the hero of Tippecanoe. Good men from the Van-Jacks are flying, Which makes what are left askew ; For they all are joining the standard, With the hero of Tippecanoe. And we all are fully determined, No matter for rain, bail, or snow, To do what we can in the battle, For the hero of Tippecanoe. ’ So lot us iro on in Columbus. Have meetings and big dinners too ; For ( see that the Van-Jacks are startled, At the sound of old Tippecanoe. I hey say he lives iri a log cabin, And there drinks hard cider, too; .Well, what if he docs, I’m certain, He’s the hero of Tippecanoe. So. if we get any ways thirsty. I'll tell you ail whitt we can do; We’ll bring down a beg of hard cider, And drink to old Tippecanoe. MISSISSIPPI COMING. The Grenada Reporter, one of the most spirited arid thorough going Locofocopress es in all Mississippi, has hauled down the Van Buren flag and hoisted that of Harri son and Tyler. The Editor savs: “We Iran, y confess we are convinced we have beet; at error—doing wrong to ourself, our cot. ry, -pud posterity in the humble but hearty support we “hitherto rendered the Administration: wo therefore abandon it. We have believed that the policy of the Admin station would pro mote the prosperity and happiness of out country- It is now plain to ou mental vision that a more ruinous policy,one more destructive to all the great branches of in dustry and trade which make uo The sum total of our country’s business, wealth, and prosperity, could not be pursued. WY see the most energetic and enterprise g of Yur citizens daily failing around us; eean tee every branch of business stagnant, evdtry i trade and profession suffering; we see I'll j the chiel staples arid particularly the gri^U 1 staple of the South, depressed to a degrd t totally ruinous to the pioductor; we se. tho Government itself, with all its boaster self sustaining powers, after separating it- J Gelt from the People, and flundering in Ihe j maze ol a labyrinthine ‘experiment,’ re duced tu the necessity of issuing batch af : ter'batch ol ] reasrtry slijnplasters to pay j “If its creditors. W have seen nil these j things more in pity than in anger, and see ! IU S • hom, instead of realizing the prosperi • and happiness -so long promised by the Administration, and believing ourselves in j error in sustaining it, we now abrogate our allegiance to locofoism, and renounce j thereto all lavor, affection, and fealty.” WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, Ihi bran: anil skilful general, the wise and firm politician, the prudent farmer , Ihi poor mans friend, and the people's candidate for President of the United States. Messrs. Imutors : — Since my last I have been ploughing, and thinking about the striking similarity between our condi tion as a government, and that of ancient Lome in the days ofCincinnatus, and that ol Um. 11. Harrison. Ancient Rome was a republic, and through the wisdom, patri otism, and eloquence ofCincinnatus, was prosperous. |[ e , thinking the course of ailaus being well directed, and relying up on tin; wisdom and patriotism of his fellow ctizens, and desiring repose, retired to his farm, no doubt hoping all would go well. Hut soon, through a course of bad policy, the peace of the government was disturb ed, and its prosperity blighted. In this state of aflairs, the repose of the old man was disturbed by a committee from the people, who waited upon him, and finding him at his plough, laid their petition before him, who, though fond ol retirement and repose, with a deep sigh, influenced by love of country and regard for his fellow-citizens, left his plough and domestic enjoyment, repaired to the post assigned him, and through his wisdom, firmness, and patriot ism, peace and prosperity were ngain re stored. So VV'm. 11. Harrison, when 18 years old, left the delightful home of his patriotic father, took upon himself the hard ships and braved the dangers of the ten ted field, the scalping-knife and tomahawk ofthe northern Indians, until they were humbled, and peace restored to our north western frontier. lie enjoyed the confi dence of Washington, Adams, Jefferson and Madison, in evidence of which, see the appointments he received, and whfth he honored by a disinterested and faithful dis charge of duty, until the close of the late war with Great Hritian, when, in evidence ofthe people’s knowledge of his firmness and ability, he is placed by them in the national council of our republic. There he commanded respect, until his disinterested and patriotic vole upon the Missouri ques tion, which he fearlessly gave impelled by the love of country and equal rights, and with a full knowledge as expressed by him self that it would result in his political death. People of the South ! Ploughmen! think ! He not only fought your battles, but he laid down his political life in de fending your interests. Do you, can you want a greater evidence of his regard for O o you? I think not. Methinks l hear n general response• from the ploughmen of Georgia, “No —it is enough.” Well fel low-citizens, did he begin now to act .ike ambitious and aspiring politicians do, to cut and come, and change his coat ? No I But delighted with the prospect of peace and prosperity attending his beloved coun try, he breathes his benediction for her fu ture welfare, and retires to his plough. But, fellow-citizens, when Harrison was in the field fighting your battles, where was Aft. Van Buren? By his side? No— not he. When Harrison gave the vote in your favor by which he laid down his pol itical liTe for you, where was Mr. Van Bu ren ?—By his side, acting a similar part? No—not he. But 1 will tell you where he was a while before, and what he was do ing. He was in the Senate of New York in structing her Senators and Representatives/ to vote against the reception of Missouri into the Union unless she would strike Slavery from her constitution. But what has been Mr. Vati Buren’s general course in a political poiniof view? lie was against and for the war—he was against and for James Madison—he was for and against De Witt Cljmon—he was for and against the Tariff—be was against and for Jackson—and now as the nominee ol Gen. Jackspu, stands pledged to tread 1 in his stops. Jut has he done it ? If yea, why the < tier :nce in the condition of the country \\ hat has he promised you ? He has promised a sound currency and ‘\Our pockets filled with gold and silver arVou got paper, while he and his office- IN 0.49.