^'1 .j >si:ra w. hampton, rho pov,'L-rs granted unJer the Constitution, beina: Ir-rivcti from the People ol the U".:', ! -.s, mi'-v oy them nntn3ver4»ervt?rtod to thsir injury or oppression.” '^ladison Editor and Pul )j?lie VOLUME 2,t CHARLOTTE, N. r ' 8, 1842. 5 NUMBER 85. T II 3iS : Tiif^ “ 'SJcchle.nbnrc' JifTtrsotiian'* is published weekly, at ‘I'ro hollars and I'ifty Cents, if paid in advance; or 'I'liree J> Hars, ii not paid before the expiration of thuee months ! -m tho time of subsrribin^. Any p' rson who will procure ' r sub.-nribcr3 and bf'come responsible for their tJubscriptions, nhill have a copy of the paper gratis ;—or, a club of ten eub- RiTibi rs may have the paptr one year for 'ruccnty Dollars in .livance. ,\o paper will be di.scontinued while the subscriber owes any -li;ng, if he is able to payand a failure to notify the Editor >f a with to diycontinue at least one month before the expira- ^ on of the tim‘ paid for, will be considered a new engagement. OriLnnai Su^scnbers will not be allowed to dirfcontinue the ID r -- f .-re the expiration of the first your without paying for a full year’s subscription. A>!rtrt:scments Will be con'picuou.sly and correctly insert- 1 at Une Dollar \)K:x scjuaru fjr tht' tirst insertion, and Ticcn- Cents for each continuance—except Court and other EXD OF THE WORLD, of our readers are no doubt aware, that a certain fanatic by the name of Miller^ residing in New-Jersey, we believe, has predicted the end ol the world in 1843, and that he prelends to found this prediction on the prophecies of the Bible, which he says have been made plain to him. He has also, and his followers, comtnenced travelling over the New England Slates, putting up large en campments. and pteaching up his doctrine of the milkiiium to come ne.xt year, and also established a paper to propogate Millerism. As a complete de- molisher of the doctrine of this n'lodern irapostor, who impiously pretends to understand the profound i j I ; A’ n ci'jrne erood de- •V ' will b v'a\ d I' • ‘i ‘ ^ ' i t : . ii. !aladvtrfi.s. n.ent.s,whirh will be charired/*/:enr/-^re;.cr I mysteries contained in the Book of Life, we give .-r. hu:h r than tlie ab.iv.-rat.-s, (uwmu to the delay. L'cne- I ■ .r i • i r. coil.cious). A l,txr:,l .liscum'will l,c " rccmc work written by de to tho:-t; who adv rtisu by the year. Advrrliscments sent tur j.'iiiilication, must 1.-; mai!v'd with the number of inser- -IIS" .'irt'd, or thi-y will be publiahed until forbid and charg J i ■ ■■r iini;ly. ; r lii ilf.rs to the Editor, unless containing money in sums f / Vre D^illars, or over, must come free of postage, or the 'i!ij.,-unt paid at JlieoiU.-e here will be charged to the writer) ■ V ry luj^tanci*, and collected ae other accounts. Old l*oint-Coiiifort RS-OPENED. i Tllhl SUBS g: ■ AVIXG leased the CHARLOTTE HOTEL, a I formerly kept by Dr. Joshua D. Boyd, and m-n* r' ceiitly by Maj. Joseph Smith, announces to l,ia li ieii I.-; and tiie public gcnoraily, that he re- ; i'Mit*d it as a HOUSE OE ENTERTAlNlVi£]\T. ' I'l* Hoii.sc and onclo.sures liave been newlv and iioroiiiriily repaired e.xpres.'-Iy »br the use of the , 1 -cr-t:«‘r. huendini^to dc"^otc liis whole time and to his House, the undersigned ^viI] spare 111. I'airifei to render coniforlable all who may give him . : •;/. J( will he his roiistiint endcav'or to keep a I uble stij pli^'d wiih the i)t si that can be afforded by . ' uniitul country ; a f3ar of' choice Liquors ; neat 1,. -tn.s and clean Dedj? ; polite and attentiv’e Ser- V mils, an ' xpcricnced Hof^tier and such accomoda tion.'^ .ithis Stahleii as will not be overlooked by tra- tiliTs TiUd others. To the travelling public he ■ ^uld say* f‘'^li aiid test the accomodations at the '' irlotft' I foiel. Ilis charges f-hall he moderate, to i:i 1 le embarrass^ed state ot the times. The Cliur^ i life Hotel is on treet, just one square South r 'h* Courthous^e. " Ti 7^ Farnjfips accommodated i\ith private dining ■ uuia* vvL”B tt?»?4i;ed. ALE^NDER Charlotte, N. C., Oct. 83...p ^ Coroliiia liiii, i n 1 n 1.0 TTE. NOR TH- C.l R OLINA. t^ofcssor Sti:waut of Andover, Massachuselt;., said to be among the most learned divmes of our day. We find it in one of our exchanges ; » O [extuact.] Plain as all this seems to my mind, yet I see ma ny, and some v'ery sensible persons too, greatly agi tated about the end of the world, which as many predict at the present day, is to come in 1843. I do not say, that it would be well lor ^le public to call to tiiind the many predictions of the like nature which have already been wrecked, and which were maintained with as much learning, and as much confidence too, as present theories are. Specially would they do well to call to mind the notable case of John Albert Bengel, one of the best Greek schol ars and sacred expositors of the last age, and the editor of the famous critical edition of the New Tes tament which bears his name. His piety and tal ents are beyond fair question, and sobriety, on all other subjects except the Apocalypse, was a prom inent trait of his character. He spent the flower of his life in pursuit of the secret meanings of the Rev elations. He came to lull persuation, at last, that he had discovered them. He announced them to the v^rld ; and in so doing, he says, with much modes ty, that the only reason he has to doubt the disclo sures of these secrets is, that it was made to so un worthy a person as himself. Yet, in the full confi dence that the occult matters of the Apocalypse had actually been revealed to him is>y the Holy Spirit, he published his book. Most devoutly does he thank God for the wonderful disclosures which it is designed to «ake. The grand period, as to all the leading parfefof the great drama, according to his book, was to be consunmiated in A. D. 1836. Ifthe face of the world sViouhi not be entirely changed at that period, then, he says, the church must believe that he has been njigtaken. But that th» change woulU tuka pill" l~f t>lMy|rtninrT> not a ahaUuvY ul' doubt. So far, this great and w^e—we ^ve lived tp see 1836, a&jjrhe w^ld is still moving ° Und the and its inhabitants gojrtg on ia days of yore. We nev^ once thought "Hit#^period, of ihe^Bengelian revelation: and cann6.t now discover the record oftJiem on the page of history. Many a confident prediction, utteFed by other ro mancers in prophecy, has met with the same fate, and been wrecled on the rocks whither the mighty etr^m'1^4ici^ hath borne them. Such is doubtlesji 1h$ destiny M iaawy others also: yet, all this does not seem to dioiinii^. the confidence of thow who write theol(^^^.rom^e6 ! ji'tlierc must needs be eritlt^^s ^it would seem,) why may rtot thi9 (li^jparTOftrlt of eXe- getical theology exhibit its due propoT*tion ? Once for all, however, we may beseech such in terpreters to listen to a word of caution. I will not rej)roach them with the j>resumption of undertaking to expound a book, which, ol all others in the Bible, demands the deepest knowledge of the original Scriptures, and of the prophetic idiom, when they have not well studied either. But may I not ask, how it came about, that when Jerusalem *vas to be destroyed, the exact time was so carefully kept hack, until the very eve ol'its accomplishment, fr-an the disciples ofCiirist? Mark tells us (xiii. 3,) that the three favorite disciples went to fiim and asked him the qutif^tion respecting the time of its desola- tion. He tells us, al.so, that Jesus declared ‘ this time (v. 32) to he unknown not only to men. hut to the aiiiiels in heav’('n. yea to the Son tiimself.’ It was only alter the Unman army was in Palestine and had begun their task, that the time was declared to John, Rev. xi. 2. lint we may appeal to a passage still more appli cable to the present case, and which comprises more^ within its iira.-p. The anxious ilisciples asked of the risen Saviour, 'irhen he would restore the king dom 1o Israel 7 It matters not what particular thing they had in mind. i. e. whether it was purely tiie spiritual kiiiL^ihjin ofChrisft, or tlie ecclesiastico-pol- itical kingdom which they had once been expecting. The answer is one which should be engraven on a frontispiece and put upon the study door of every writer on the prohecies, who indulges the expecta lion of being able to point out the day and the hour of fulfihnent. It was this: It is not for you lo KNOW THi: TIMES OR THE SEASONS, WHICH THE E.\- TIIER HATH IM T IX HIS OWN POWEK. ActS, 1. 6. 7. If now It was not lor even apostles to know t ese 11- r,, . ^ , I 1, ,1 . c 11 secrets, is it Ibr every curious and speculating H||= 1 ABLE shall alvvuy. be well .in,l p Irnt.kil y ^ of history or .k pplu'd with every thing the country allords, to , u THE air VO Establishrt^^ situa ^ ted on main-str(’et, rforth Cc^Jrt ,-i II:>use, in (he Town of ChaHotte. N. ifc- still kepi open by the undersigned ifor the ac" ■ I iniodalion of the public. The proprietor feels con" »! I nf of his ability to give entire satisfaction to all • 1 > in ly patro!iise Uis House. The travelling pub- ' !• will find at the Carolina Inn every comfort, con- . • iii:Mice and attention necessary to refresh and re- ; ili^or:'te both man and horse. Particular pains ■vil K-* bestowed on the Table, Bar, and Beds— I every thing shall ho in the most sumptuous and 1' it atler;—and the Sfahies will always he sup- i ;ii d with ;i!>undanee and attended by laithful, ex- 1 I iostlers. In i^hort, the subscriber is lie- ’ rmiii= d to keep up t!ic accommodatidiis at his I 'in.-e in a style unsurpassed by any similar estab- i !.i'ient in il ** int rior country. All he asks from .nt.})ublic. 1; . f-j «ri\ e him a call. Ihurt ='^ can at all tim s he supplied with con''-'c- ; -nt I well enclosed LOT>>, on mo leratti terms, :d I’urni lied with gruin at a low jtri.e. KERR. G5...F ’harl-.:‘te. June 2, • w ]tr Ji:X.\L\GS 1SI:.>. B. iiA¥EI.IiEiSS, T iKi: yOTK E ! lion. , . ;S i 1 gree of m.r- u . ' ; -: up^n the Hi;/- and aj.'T; ic ' 'ucau • u is iftw. T!vi'^ we jo on anins:';:'’ our>'*lves m oii.: “c.e ifMim i aiioi r.^r, ever pursuin.' »;i fa*... the aa.uc ph iiuoins, ithou /h we give chase to ihem in dinerent direction^ — When such chases will be ov3r, it would he as dilfi- cult to say, as to fix upon thiJ specific period of the Mdleniuin. From the Family ’Jompanion. HOMESPUN Y A R N S .—X o. II. THE “experience” OF THE BLACKSTtll Til OF THE MOUNTAiX PAriS. CHAPTER 1. At the entrance to one ol moae gorges, or gaps in the great Apalachian chain of mountains, in their passage across the notliieru portion of G.-orgia. a blacksmith had erectii his fdrg ^ in ihe early settle ment of that region by the Aaglo-American race, and drove a thrifty trade in tni- way ol fuciog axes and pointing plows for thosrttl rs, and hor ses for wayfaring people in iheir lriMPK.^ugh of his neighborhood i cc he VV45 no ordin|^y pt son age in fhe afTaiis ighborhood, figm^ in thia'lfe,rative,"sum amount of hi; riBtes will ncH t .'ill uidke a conspicpus the jQuntiy to examine gold mine.s a of liariites will be unititf re^ting. llavm through life on a homely maxim of his ovvn—^’pay upas you go up’-—he had icquired some money and was out of debt, an i cv>n». qu- ntly enjoyed • the glorious privilege of being mJejienden*,’ in a de gree that is unknown to many woo occupy a idrg- tr portion of the worla’s attention than i^^lf He was a burly, well iookmg man of thirr^nve, just youngenough to feel that ail hi£ faculiies, men tal and physical, had reach d their greatest devel opment, an I just old enough to have amassed suth cient experience of men and things, to maJwe the pas' serve as a finger post to hiS fuiure journey through life. With a sl^wd. b ji opeti, oold and honest look, there was a gleeful ^'*';j:':ess'.on in tiie corners of his eyes, that spoke ol fun. The ‘ laughing dev- il_^in his eye’ was not a malicjous spirit, however. His physical conformation was that which com bined great strengtii with agility, and if he had been fated to have been a CiJtempijiiiry of his great proto Vulcan, there can be no Uoubt but the Lem- nian blacksmith would have alloied to him a front forge in his establishiuent, to .tci as a sort of paitern- card, and to divert the public gaze fiom his own game leg to the fair propoitions ol iiis foreman. Now, although Ned Foi^crorj, lor such was the name he had inherited liO;x| some O tllic ancestor, was a good natured niun v’» ^ trie posseoc>ion of great muscular strength and cou;t»t.e. iod ihe admiration which a succeasful exercis^' of those powers never fails to command, had .■ijmewhat spo . a ir.nr Without meaning to mjuie any mortal, he had man aged, nevertheless, to tiy his prowess on sundry of his neighbors, and fiom the success which always crowned his honest etib^is in that way, nad uncon sciously acquired the chaiacter of a bully. With very few early advantages of elementary education, he had, neveiiheiess, at dillejent periods, collected a mass of heterogeneous information, which he was Very fond oi dis[)laying on occasions. He was a sort of politioil aniiuiiary, and could tell the opinion of Mr Jt if rson or Mr. Miidison, on any subject, and was reieired toon all li.-5pnled points ol the theory and h‘ loiy ol the gove.niment, that arose among the candidates loi the legislaiure and county politicians, 'i’his he studied on account of the con sequence it mv stcd him With. But why he nai treasured up an old and -.veil thumbed copy of Paine s Ag»^ ol Re.ison, and alfecled sceplicisni as to tne veracity of the ?iory ol Jonan and the whaK, and B ilaam and hia ass, wouid be hard accountintj: lor, unless ii {uo ’eed d fto.u ihe, desire of a chaiac ter for singularity and ^•rudllion VV^hen vanity onc»‘ gets the mastery of a man’s reason, there is no telling the abs-urdilii.s ii will lead him into. Hr was iond of speaking of Vulney, and being found with a copy of 'Payior’s * Du gcsis’ m his nand, al though lew of his n. ighbors had heaid of the au- thoi of the • Rums,’ o; knew what Diegesis meant. This pt culianly, together with the pertinacity of the missionai ies, vVoi .u.'ter and Bniler, which cir ried them to th peni iiii.ny. iimv account for ta jrreat aveision f M Ei.^atd Foiire»on to ail pr. achers o( tn* G ): so cxcfssive. .ii ii u ii Ti:^!OTur R. HuanEs. H WLXGol r inrd thoMAXSlOX HOUSE for pub • P'c«>ininodation. intbrm.s his tViends ami the puh- ■ ^ nerally, that he is m»w prepareil to reci'ive and Mf irtain all who may lavor him with their patron- ‘ hypoci iiical .'Co i. out llVi lg HilJ I guage. But • oircu s I a Uir. •)re;t' Ui r r . h, ■ iS • ! fli.> dislike lor them "'-i.-v I "li 1 scaic^ iy '=p' ik ot tne IS. ici *’1'" C ;li d int'm, Willi jii ui.i using mdecoious l ui oc^'i ’.d vhich gave iiis zf’al •ui..an ail'. '0. -V M UtMdi.-;! 'Vte'.sHt*, -vho was loud ol spi- i ,ii ar.. e'doi^'S. onc^- Dvide th ■, faei^ r a i ng te: Wl .‘dili'ed '’and his hr* ' u se i'liv H» vas e' . .u /n h. j asc and saiisfy the ]ia!ate even of an epicure. His BAR will bp lound furnished witli a choice ^'decfion ot Liquors. Wines and Cordials, both Ibr- ’ Mi and domestic. His S rABLEL-hull V;e constantly attended by thlul rmd att-'iitive hostlers and su}>})lied with •' ndant provender. ’ . IJ. The Singe Ollice is k pt at the Mansion -I .i: ;c. *'-‘lailotte, N. C., May 23, 1S12. 61....6m exeeretical science, to tell us all about such matters ? Is it not presumption to engage in such an under- takin^? C^od has uiuloubtedly determined upon the times and seasons, when all events that respect his church will take place. But it does not follow, that he has reveah d this matter to us. We are satisfied he h is not. Why not leave to him the se (•ret things which he claims as his own prerogative? \\ hy assume to ourselves a ptisition, which he tloes not allow us to assume ? But alap ! all tlie disappointment of winters leem- inf*" vv’ith lancv’ and tilled with coatidence, in da^s that are past, seem to have made no serioua .mpres- sion on the liKC class of writers at the present peri od. As soon as ruthle?s time mows dowri one par- Begs leave to inform liis In™,is and the public. \viT»n that hecontinues to carry on the j crop. And so it wi o • \vithout bein r T.UI.UlUNa ni .'SIMCtiS. U«ay, an,l Ine .jg! the South east winr of trom its orbit; the 1 ope still K ^ues nis (le the K.outheast winii Vancan; the Sultan still naughtily to his peermn minarets and the ban icrs oi i. BETHINE with their patronage. Being regular in the receipt of the ■‘derior to any at the South. Fall and Winter Fashio?is . ' received. Sept, 27, m the fioutheast wing ot Spring’s brick house, where . he will be ready to accommo- ! t 7. ; ° -u_; are «;fiil ^ I c 1 • : am ; and aita ul and humble Ohnatiaus are sun date those who mav lavor 11m . , " , ’ ‘ k . thon qoiop more laborini^ and suilering as betore; men some moje fortunafe ad\ cnturer will perhaps discover latent er- Xew VorU Miifl PhiitiHolnhia 1 ‘*1 fomier calculations, (as recently has been the fSew \ ork ‘ind 1 hiladelphia , resoect to those of Bengel,) and we shall I- ashions, ins style .hall not be j j „,,on ihe cohsuinmatioii period of all. But this will in all probability he lar enou^rh in advance to be out of the reach of the gen- , oration who are addressed, and therefore beyond ‘ their power of absolute denial or of decisive correc- for 1812-3 ma iS 1/ rai> aC|Uirei cuts -par:’.^ed “ •' .:.M= ’ Ail tais ca ne to the eais of For ge; >11, with such additions and enibehshments as ^toii-.s UiUally rvceivu in passing to a third person. Ii would be as ust less to atteinpi to d*’scribe a mountain storwi, as to picture the wrath of thi^f mouniamt er But il we cannot pourtray th^ storm, the oons' qut nces may be easily told. 'Fhe Black- s.n’f 'i ^v:ore hi his v:: it-i he icc’U^l Lc'dv er-i'^y Me prr icdcr tkai pJisseU i:ie gcip, ui rcccnge oj thLS ll'iult. Foig' von was a tmn of his word, a« the bruised ft .lureb ol iiiiiny ol Jona Wfsley’s disciples could tfc^t iy. His characfer soon went abroad, ana the goo * old matrons of tnsarrouodmg counties on each side of the mouniam trembha at his na.n^*. In short, the m^'joiruu piss, wnich was really as romantic a place as a laujjcap^ p nnter would seek for a picture, and was ju.^t the spot to rnnmd a yjutii irtsfi from his cl iStic siu li- s, of the place where L»"onidaS: and his thiee h injr^d Spartans fi il. in alt iiiptthg to defend Gre-ce ag uns' the ar my o! X i \ *s; bUL m d sp te of me gran i ui of its b tiiaiJ cliir', and the beauty ul is verdure, it wa> aiso.’.ai- d m ihe minds ol m;inv piou.^? pers.'ns, wiifi Uie dro.21 gate th i* l«-ads to d-st uction And N* d Forgeron, tne hands j ne hi icksmith, was in^fSt* ! wiih^the atti ibut‘ S and hideou'* as-: ct oi nis Scitanic Mtj'Sty. by many a mountain girl, wfio would doubtl.&s have la'll-n in ‘love at liist sight’ viMth him, under any other name. Pile pr.Mcher wtiose circ jit Ly on ^either side "of ■' »nounta a, at th*' time Ned’s direful tdict vvas prumu gated t i iht woiJd. vvis a me k and lowly m-’T, u ,0 app’ oac’. d nf^ar!\ in h ' natura. dispost .-0, . liliob iience to ti.e ir.andate, rela’ivt ♦. t rnin^ the chei i: to the siaiter *i u poor sou! passed many sleepless nights in view of the fate ihat awaited him at the "mountain pass. In his dreams, he saw Forg-ion with a huge sledge-ham- mt^'r in his hand, ready to dash out his brains, an i would start with such w'lolence as to wake himself He inquired if there was no other place at which the mountain could be passed, only to learn his doom more certainly. Being a liinid man, but withal devoutly impressed with a sense of dutv, he re.solved to discharge his duties faithlully, be the consequences what th^y might. Like a lamb go ing to the slaughter did he wend his way towards the gap; as he came in front of the shop, the black smith was striking the last blow on a shovel, and singing away to the tune of “Clear de kitchen”— “Old Georgia is a noble State, Her laws are good, and her people great.” On catching a glimpse of the poor parson, who had fl ittered himself that he was about to pass with impunity, Ned sung out—“Stop, there, you eternal snad-beiiy, and pay the penalty for my injured re putation ! ’ The holy man protested inuocsnce of having eyer intentionally injured him, by word or deed. V The* man’s subdued looks^d earnest voice, had half dissuaded Ned from h1^%tern purpose, when the giggling of hii striker and the cheering of two or three idlers, ne^g^ hini" to do what he felt was mean. Let any one pause a moment, and reflect if he has never been urged on to acts his conscience smote him for, by the opinions of others, before Mr^ Forgeron is sentenced as a devil. The prei received several boxes on his ears, and heard ifll denunciations against his sect before he was per ted to depart, and when that permission was ed, he was not slow in availing himself of iHf lege. At the next annual conference, when circuits were assigned to the different preachers, this one made his appearance punctually, but by some pro cess of casuistry, convinced himself that his duty did not call tor a revelation of his suflTerings. If he vVaS too sensitive of the blacksmith’s character to . xpose it to rude remark, or, if hr had a prefer ence thaf some worthier brother should occupy that healthy station among the mountains, is dil- ficult to conjecture. But Forgeron’s reputation had extended beyond the circuit, and was done am ple and severe justice to by others, who had heard of his fame. It soon becamp, the subject of anima ted conversation, and there was do little wincing, each one fearing it would he his cruel fate, to be Sent a victim to appease the wrath of this human — ‘^ntainst the Methodist church. Alter a time, it wasHcffrece-RLpverend Mr. Stubbleworth was the doomed individual, anJ when ihe annunciation came, many an eye of min gled pity and curiosity was turned on his ruddy, good-natured face, to see how the dispensation was borne, but not a muscle moved. With a quiet smile, he professed a perfect willingness to go where he was sent. He was “clay in the hands of the potter,” he said, if he piqued himself on a stolid mdilTerence to the blacksmith’s pummelings, or if he relied on his ample dimensions to protect himself, he never disclosed, but appeared as self-sat isfied and content as ever. His predecessor looked for all the world, like a mouse just escaped from the fangs of some terrible grimalkin. CHAPTER Ii. The Rev. Mr. Stubbleworth was very much pleai^ed with nis new situation. Having been trans- fei red from a level pine-vvoods country, near the conhnes of Florida, the novelty of mountain scene ry and a pure, bracing -itmosphere, seemed to inspire him With new life. Complimenting all the moth- »-rs, on the singular beauty and intelligence of their children, with a delicate allusion to their own per sonal appearanct-, he soon became a g'^neral favor ite. Air, Stubbleworth *• knew which side of his bread the bultei was on.” Thtf time arriving for his departure to visit the transmontane portion of his pastoral care, he w’as earned of the d mgers he was about to encounter, b it th y w re heard with the same placid smile. 'Pile worthy ladies pictured to him ‘chimeras di^t‘,’ sutii'ienl to have abated the zeal of any other indi- .idual. But that gentleman quirted their fears, by ij'ptalmg to th" power that 'tempers the wind to liie .-'h'jrn lamb.’ w'ilh a countenance as lamb like as could he im igmed. And he departed, singing-- “ At homo or abroad, on the land, on the sea, As tliy wants may demdnd, shall thy strength ever be.’* They watched aim, until his portly person and i ho-s ^ 5'rew i ,.a ■ * th*- listan^e, and firti' d away, siLh'ng hat s icn a good maa sh 'ulii laij inlo th-- • th . monbier tlie b. icksr: = ’ih. Foigeroi; had .aearo of iis n »v v-cti n, a^j] i» - joiced that • s size and appdian -e farnKshed a b* ter subject for his vengeance tnan me attenuate d frame of the late parson. Oh, what nice beatinir he w'ould have! He had hearJ too, that some Me thodist preachers were rather spirited, and hoped this one might prove so, that he might provoke him t) fight. Knowing the clergyman must pass on Sjtuiday in the afternoon, he gave his striker holi day, and reclining on a bench, regaled himself on the beauties of Tom Fame, awaiting the ariival of the preacher. It was not over an hour, before he heard the words. How happy are they, who their Saviour obey, And havj laid up their irt-a.^ure above,” sung in a full, clear voice, and soon the vocalist, turrung the an^^le of a rock, rode leisurely up, with a contented smile on his face. ‘ bl »w are you, old slab-sides ? Get ofT your horse and join in mv devotions,’ said the blacksmith. ‘ I have many miiesto ride,’ answered the preach er, • and havn t time, iny friend. I’ll call as 1 re- j geron’s nami-, but presumed that he did cot merest well behaved travellers. “ Yrj presumed so’ Yes, yoa are the most pre. su nptuous people, yoa Methodists, that ever trod shoo I at'i^r. my Low. Weil, whai’I' you do if I don't whip you th!s time, you beef-headed disciple you r Mr Stubbleworth professed his willingness'to do any thing roasonable, to avoid such penance. ‘ W ell, there’s three things you have to do, or I 11 maul you into a jelly. The first is, you areja quit pre aching: the second is, you must wear last will and testament of Thomas Paine ne your heart, read it every day, and beli word you read ; and the third is, you j the Methodists in every crowd you gef The preacher looked on dujjiig th positions, without a line o( and at the end replied, that- abie and he would not * Well, you have. I’ll larrup you lil rags! Get do The preaQ ed up to the he did not di§ made a virtue o ‘ I have but is that you w >vas a prestt^ 1 do not wi , you basin-fafli 'wly drew off his ovejr itimied his tirade of abo! as he drew his right" aad threw the garment be^i"i ^ "V Forgeron a tremendoo^ wliich laid that person itind, with the testament ^ blra. The Rev. Mr. Stubbln- vf connoiseur in such matj sary to rise, but mount* f a cat, and as he bes; nteous hand, oa thf imith, contmue(@| on his arrival at tl ^_-jifbrt and pcace^ ihg experiei epally f NwghfTa one by taj he^ as qui'. -meet are thres t yoit up. turn. ‘ Your name is Stubblew’orth, and you are the hypocrite the M-thodists have sent here, eh V ‘My name is Stubbleworth,’ he replied meekly? ‘ Didn’t you know my name was Ned Forgeron. the blacksmith what whips every Methodist pt. ac*h- er that ?oes through this gap?’ was asked with an audacious look. • And how dare you come here?’ The preacher replied i.hat he had heard Mr For- ed him, w towed his stomach arl song whe smithy— “ Tongue oa; Of a soul in until Mr. Forg ‘ first love,’ or som him, re,s|K)nded lu him oiri’ But unfoiti perform that kmdj^ltic maunched a bun t;tly as if his mastSr \vas ing ‘ Now,’ said Mr. Slubb things you must proinise ‘ What are they V asked ‘ The first is, that you wi dist preacher again. lie“ he nesitated, and the rever usual benign smile on his fal; and song— “ I rode on the «ky, freely justi And the moon ii was under m This oriental languageovercam^^^W^ksmiihI Such bold tigures, or somethiiig else, caused him to sing out,—“ Weil, I’ll do jt—l’ll do it!’ ‘ You are getting on very well,’ said xMr. Stub bleworth, ‘ 1 think f can make a decent man of vou yet, and perhaps a chiistain,’ Ned groaned. ‘ The second thing I require of you, is, to go to Pumpkmvine Creek Meeting house, and hear me preach to-morrow.’ Ned attempted to stammer out some exctjse—‘ I 1 1 that is ’ When the divine resumed his devotional hymn, and kept time with the music, by striking him over the face with the fleshy part of the hand—- “ My soul rucunted higher, on a chariot of fire, Nur did envy Elijah his seat.” Ned’s promise of punctuality, caused the parson’s exercise to cease, and the words, redolent ol gorgC' ous imagery died away m echoes from the adjacent crags. ‘ Now’ the third and last demand I make of you, is peremptory,’ Ned was all ^iteniion, to know what was to come next. ‘ You are to promise to seek religion, day and night, ana never rest until you obtain it at the hands of a merciful Redeemer.’ The fallen man looked at the declining sun, and then at the parson, and knew not what to say, when the Idiier individual began to r^ise his voice m song, oncc more, ayd Ned knew what would come next. ‘ rii do my besi,’, he sgud^ in an humbled voice. ‘ Well, ihai’s a man,’ \It. Stubblew'orth said,— Nou get up .iii 1 g J dj-.vn to the branch and wash yo ir ia..e, and dust j ou. Clothes, and tear up Mr. i .ae’s • sta .icnt and .-..ny .ur thoughts on high.’ Net* irosi- viiii iefclmgs • had never e.xperienc- i bef- e, ai.d \n /it o oy :no lavu'.ory injunction Ol the preaci.er, when liiut gentleman mounted his aorse. took Ntd by the hand, and said;-—‘Keep your prornjies and i’ll keep your counsel. Good evening, Me. Foigeron—1 ii look lor you to-mor- ro V,' ani olf he rode with ttie same imperturbable countenance, singing so loud as t.z dcare the eaglets from their eyrie, in the ov‘m ►./inging rocks. Well, tliO ight Ned. th’.' a nice business ! What would people say it th y knew Kdward Forgeron was whip't before ni.-- c*v\a door in the gap, and by a MethuUist preacher, too ? But his musings were ‘ more m sor.ow than in anger.’ CHAPTtR III. Ihe disfigured countenance of Forgeron was of course the ^ubJ ct ol numerous questions that night, among his Inends, to which he replied with a stern look they undeistood, and the vague rema.^k that ho had not met with an accident. Ut course, thev ne ver dreamed ol the true cause, Forgeron looked ;n the glass, and perhaps compared the changing hues of his • black eye from a recent scuffle,’ to the rainbow in the shipwreck scene—• blending every color into one.* Ur perhaps he had never read that story, and only muttered to bnnsell, • Ned Forgeron whipped by a Methodist preacher!’ tlis dreams that night were of a confused and disagreeable nature, and waking m the niorning, he had an indistinct memory of something unphasant having'! jccurred. Atfiist he could not lecollect the cause of hisleelings; but the biuises on his face and body, soon called them to mind, as well as the