Ours are the plans of fair delightful peace, nnwarp'd by party 'age, to live like brothers.'
VOIi. X..
NO. 3.
MOJJTDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1838.
JOSEPH GALES $ SON,
EDITORS AND. PROPRIETORS.
TERMS.
BuuscRirTios, three dollars per aunura one
half in advance. '
(T Persons residing without the Slate will be
required to pay the wkolk amount of the year's
subscription in advance.
UJiTES OF JinrWIlTISIJI'G.
For every 16 lines this size type) first insertion
one dollar ; each sulwequent insertion, 25 cents.
Court' Orders and Judicial Advertisements will
be charged 25 per cent, higher ; and a deduction
of 33 per cent, will be- made from the regular
priees, for advertisers by the year. t
IcU Lkttkhs to- the Editors must be post-paid-
cawova; the sculptor.
The following notice of this distinguished Artist,
Kaken from '.he Library of Entertaining Knowledge,
"will be read with interest by the People of North
Carolina, who once enjoyed the honor of possessing
hU chef tfouvre. Since the Statue of Wahhinb--vox
has been reduced to a shapeless mass, by the
destruction of thecapitol, we justly appreciate the
value of a production which, if ever equalled, was
never surpassed ' '
Canova was born, in 1757, at a small
village situate in the Venetian territory.
His father was a stone-cutter, and died
when Antonio,, who was his ionly child,
was in his third year His mother, in a
few months, married again, and, remov
ing to another village left the child, who
was of a very delicate frame of body, with
Jiis paternal grandfather and grandmother.
This turned out by ao means the most un
fortunate thing that could have happened to
Antonio ; for his grandfather, whose name
was Pasino, although only a stone-cutter,
was a man of very great intelligence and
ingenuity, and, by alt accounts, much bet
ter qualified at least to kindle to its first love
of art the genius of the future sculptor,
than his own father, had he lived, would
probably have been. Paslno's wife, Caihe-
rina, too, took the most tender care of ' her
little grandson. He was indeed, the de
. ightof the good old people; and while he
was yet almost a child, Pasino, who, as
we just said, was accomplished much be
yond Ahe generality of his class, had taught
him the elements of drawing, and even set
him to rnodel in clay , and to shape little
fragments of marble into the figures of the
more simple and easy inanimate objects.-
The young artist on his part, had no de
light tiny where but in his grandfather's
work-shop, unless it was, after the hours
of labour, to listen to the tales and ballads
recited to him Jby ! his grandmother. So
early as his ninth year, indeed, Pasino em
ployed him as a regular workman, and he
continued to be so employed till he was
twelve. During these three years he had
been often in the habit of accompany ing his
grandfather to'execnte repairs in the houses
of the neighboring proprietors, several of
whom were Venetian- noblemen, who had
their country! residences in this district.
Among these was the Signor Giovanni
Falieri, a gentleman of cultivated taste,
whc$ after having frequently seen the boy,
was so much pleaded with his manners as
well as ,the evidence of ingenuity which be
already displayed, that he at- last resolved
to take him into his house, in order that he
might enjoy some of those advantages of
education which his grandfathers humble
means could not afford him. A story has
been told of Canova having first attracted
thej attention of the Falieri family by his
having on one occasion, when some orna
ment was unexpectedly wsuited for the
Signor s table, modelled for the purpose a
lion in butter, which excited such admira
t on that the artist was immediately inquir
ed after, and orders given that he should
be brought forward. But it appears cer
tain that this anecdote is a fable, in . so far
at least as it attributes the .introduction of
the sculptor to his early patron to the cir
cumstance in question; Pasino, as we
hate said, had been long known to Signor
Falieri, who had also had many occasions
of remarking the promising talents of his
grandson before he took him to his house.
That step, however, he appears to have a-
dopted with no higher views, at first, than
merely that the boy's general faculties might
receive such cultivation as should enable
. him to folloW the trade of his father and
grandfather! with superior advantages. Nor
did he probably entertain any other inten
tions with regard to the future idesUnation
of Gis Brote&e when, after umtft lirhi fan
sent him to Ireceire some instructions in the
rudiments of sculpture from an artist of
: j 1 1 : .i : ' -
cunsiueraoie eminence wno men nappenea
to be residing in the neighborhood, Gia
seppe Bernardi, or Toreito, as he was
otherwise called.- In ToretWs wittnop;
however, Canova soon learned more than
it was ever intended he should acquire.
After he had been there somewhat above a
year, he one day took an opportunity, in
his master's absence, to make models of
two angels in clay. When Toretto, on
hip return home, saw these figures, he
cduld scarcely believe that they had been
fxecuted by "his pupil, who had hitherto,
in fact, received lessons merely in some
of the mechanical processes of the art.-r-kanova
remained with Toretto about three
years, and then returned to his native vil
age and his original occupation. But, for
tunately, Signor Falieri, who now resided
in Venice, seized probably by some misgiv
ings as to the fitness of the humble sphere
to which he had j consigned the talents of
his young friend,! after a short time, again
sent him an invitation to come to him.
To Venice, accordingly, Canova repaired,
being now in his sixteenth year. From
this date it may be considered that it had
been fixed that he should; become ah artist.
He therefore applied, himself assiduously
to.all the necessary studies. In order, at
the same time, that he might not be entire
ly dependent on his patron, although he
lived in his palace, he formed an engage
ment to give. his services during the after
noon to a sculptor in the city, although he
got very little for his work. I labored,'
says he, in one of his letters, ' for a mere
pittance, but it was sufficient. It was the
fruit of my own resolution ; and as I flatter
ed myself, the foretaste of more honorable
rewards, for I never thought of wealth."
His day, therefore, was thus divided ; the
morning was given to study in the academy
or the galleries, the afternoon was spent in
the workshop, and the evening was devo
ted to the improvement of his mind in gen
eral knowledge. The first commission
which Canova ever obtained was from one
of the Venetian noblemen, for two baskets
containing fruits and flowers. This, his
earliest performance, is still to be seen at
Venice ; but it is not thought to give much
promise of the excellence which he after
wards attained. After this, he proceeded
to the execution of a group on the subject
of Orpheus and Eurydice. for Signor Falie-
but this he did not finish till many
years afterwards Meantime he determin
ed to set up business for himself; and the
first workshop of this great sculptor was a
small ground cell in the Monastery of the
Augustine F riars, the use of which he t ob
tained by a grant from the brotherhood.
In this humble and obscure apartment,
Canova wrought for four years. But; al-
though not much noticed by the world (lur- j
ing this period, his mind was all the while
making rapid progress in the study and
mastery of his art- It was at this ' time
that, left entirely in the pursuit of excel
lence to the guidance of his own reflections,
he first began to perceive the necessity of
founding the study of art upon the study
of nature, in opposition to the notion which
then prevailed, that certain assumed prin
ciples and rules of operation were alone to
be -attended to. As soon as this new view
dawned upon his mind, he hastened to re
gulate his studies in conformity to it. ; In
stead of merely examining -and copying
tne worts ot other sculptors, he resorted
for every part of his art to the work of i na
ture. He studied anatomy. He attended
the public spectacles and the theatres, that
he might catch the finest altitudes of jthe
human figures from the living exhibition.
In walking the streets, in like manner, his
eye was constantly on the watch to catch
new forms of grace and power from the
moving life around him. His art now be
came more than ever the sole object for
which he lived. He laid down a rule for
himself, which he strictly observed, never to
pass a day without making some progress,
or to retire to rest till he had produced
some design. In the mean time,' he
also pursued with ardour his studies in
general knowledge, especially in those
branches which he conceived to be most
important to trim in his profession, such as
poetrv, antiquities, history, and the jbreek
and Roman classics, which, however he
could only read throuffh the medium of
translations.. He also studied the French
and Spanish languages. Ail this time,
however, as we have mentioned, he was
very little known. The first performance
by which he attracted the notice of his 'fel
low-citizens was his finished croupe of
Orpheus and Eurydice, which he exhibit
ed in 1776. Immediately after this, orders
began to now in upon him, and he soon
removed to a better workshop. In 1780,
the Venetian Senate bestowed upon him
pension of 3000 ducats (about 60.), in or
der that he might have it in his power to
go to finish his studies at Rome. From
this time the ecclesiastical Capital became
his chief residence. On his first arrival
there, however, his novel principles of art
revolted all the established authorities in
such matters; and for a long time his
works were the ridicule both oi connois
seurs and of his brother sculptors. It was
not till about the year 1800, that Canova's
merits were fully and generally recognised.
From this time, however, till his death, in
;1822, he stood in universal estimation
without a rival, and received all the honors
that the admiration of the world could be
stow upon him, as one of the greatest sculp
tors that had appealed not only in his own
but many age
Tarborough, November 10.
The Races over the Tarborough course
commenced on Tuesday last. First day, ihe
Sweepstakes, mile heats, $100 entrance, fcur
entries, was won at two heats by t,. J
Wilson's c. Portsmouth, beating two others
Second day, Purse $200, two mile heats
won at two heats 'by O. P. Hare's Fanny
Wyatt, beating four others. Third day
Jockey Club Purse, $300, three mile heats
won at two heats by E. J. Wilson's Ome
ga, beating David McDaniel's Vashti.
Fourth day, a Sweepstake, mile heats, best
three in five, won at three heats by Mr.
Moody s Hard Heart, beating five others.
Laughable Scene in the House of
Commons.
From the second series of " Random Recollections
of the Lords and Commons."
. In my first series of this work I gave an
amusing anecdote respecting Mr. Martin.
A still better remains to be told. My only
regret is, that no words can convey anv
idea of the thing itself. He had been speak
ing of the bad feelings frequently ending in
duels, which was often engendered in the
minds of honourable members in conse
quence of a misconception, not merely of
what was meant, but often of what was said,
by other honourable gentlemen. And,
Mr. Spaker," said Mr. Martin, with that
rich Irish brogue which he retained till the
last, in as great perfection as if he had nev
er heard an Englishman open his mouth,
And, Mr. Spaker, with your permission,
I will give yourself and the house a case in
point. That case, Mr. Spaker, occuired
to meself. You know, Sir, and the House
knows, that I was opposed at the last elec
tion for Galway by Dennis O'Sweeny.
Now, Mr. Spaker, I said something on the
hustings about Dennis, and by my faith
Dennis said something about me. Loud
laughter. Well, Mr. Spaker, I bate Den
nis as the fact of my having the honour of
addressing you, Sir, and honourable gintle
men around me proves at the poll, and
was, sure enough, declared duly elected for
Galway. Well, Sir, after the election was
over, we met in a hotel, and Dennis comes
up to me, and says, says he, Dick Martin,
rdais of laughter, you was after saying
something in your spaach on the hustins
about me, which was inconsistent with the
character of a gintlemin.'
4 Faith, aud it's yourself, Dennis, my
boy, is quite mistaken in that same.'
" 'I'm no such tiling,' said he.
" 'Indeed, Dennis, you are though ; you
was never more mistaken in all your bless
ed life, said I.
" 'Don't you think to humbug me out of
ray belief, by any of your nonsense, Dick?'
(Renewed laughter, in which the Speaker
could not refrain joining.)
" ' rhen what was it I did say? said I.
" 'You know that as well as I do, said he.
" 'By 1 don't, ' said Mr. Martin,
in his own unspeakable ludicrous manner
" Order, order, Mr. Martin," shouted
the Speaker, as the other thundered out an
oath, amidst roars of laughter from all parts
of the house.
" 1 beg your pardon, Mr. Spaker, and the
pardon of this honourable House, if I said
any thing improper.
" 'By you do, though, Dick! said
Dennis.
"Order, order, Mr. Martin; order, order"
again sung out the Speaker, his voice be
ing almost drowned amidst the peals of
aughter which resounded throughout the
iou?e.
"Mr. Spaker!" said-Mr. Martin, with
great simplicity, mingled with a wonderlul
shrewdness of manner. " Mr. Spaker, it
was not meself that gave that oath, it was
Dennis O'Sweeny !"
Again was the house convulsed with
laughter, and to such an extent were the
risible faculties of the Speaker affected, that
he was obliged to cover his mouth with the
folds of his gown, while the sides of his
ample wig literally danced about his neck
and shoulders, in the agitation of his head
caused by his excessive laughter.
Mr. Martin resumed " 'Upon my hon
our as a gintlemin, I don't know what you
mane, said I.
" 'Well then,' says he, ' didn't you say I
was ' I need not tell you, Mr. Spaker,
what I said he was," observed Mr. Martin,
suddenly checking himself. Here again the
House was convulsed with laughter.
" 'Dick!" says he, 'you must retract.'
I'll be if I do,' says I, Mr. Spa
ker." Another burst of laughter pealed through
the house and to such an extent was the
Speaker infected with the universal risibili
ty, that he was actually unable to call Mr.
Martin to order. The folds of his gown
were again in requisition, -with the view, if
possible, of suppressing, by their applica
tion to his mouth, what is called a loud
laugh. No man was ever more ready, at
all times and in all circumstances, to uphold
the dignity of the house by enforcing a uni
form decorousness in the proceedings, than
Mr. Manners Sutton, now Lord Canterbu
ry ; but the, drollery of Mr. Martin's man
ner, in conjunction with the oddity of his
matter, would have been too much for the
gravest and most dignified of men. The
thing was altogether irresistible.
Mr. Martin, as soon as order was in some
measure restored, resumed- And you
won t retract, Dick, says Dennis.
No, by' "
" Order, order, Mr. Martin," cried the
Speaker, before Mr. Martin had uttered what
the right honourable gentleman conceived
to be another oath, and which he therefore
wished to strangle in the birth.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Speaker," ob
served Mr, Martin, but your honour was
mistaken this time, and have put yourself
to unnecessary throuble ; for I was not go-
mg to swear any more. I was onlv
going to say, Nb, by the powers I won't !
I'd rather you'd make a riddle of my body
first.' "
Roars of laughter, which lasted for a con
siderable time, again resounded through the
house. When they had subsided, Mr. Mar
tin continued his story.
" 'Then,' said he, 'I expect the satisfac
tion which is due to a gintlemin ;' and with
that, Mr. Spaker, he was in the very act of
laving the room. 'Dennis,' says I.
" 'What?' says he.
" 'Don'tlet us misunderstand each other,'
says I.
" 'It's quite plain, says he.
" Mayhe it's not so plain as you think,
Dennis,' said I.
" 'Do you or do you not retract,' and no
more blarney? says he.
" -No, I don't, says I, but if you'll call
on me to-morrow morning atbreakfast-tirne,
we'll both explain, and .then I'll break an
egg or crack a flint with ypu whichever
you plase, Dennis.' (Loud laughter.)
" 'Well, I will, Dick," said he.
" And faith, sure enough, Mr. Spaker,
Dennis O'Sweeny did kape his word, and
he explained and I explained, and we both
explained, and he, left my room quite satis
fied, and bowing to me as politely as the
Masters in Chancery do to you, Mr. Spa
ker, when they retire from your honour's
table."
And so saying, Mr. Martin resumed his
seat, amidst deafening roars pf laughter,
which lasted for two or three minutes.
The allusion to the Masters in Chance
ry was exceedingly felicitous; for when they
have delivered any message from the Lords
to'the Commons, they retire from the table
walking backwards, and making a low bow
to the Speaker at every third or fourth step
they take
THE THUNDER STORM.
BY CKORGK It. Pit ENTI C K.
I was never a man of feeble courage.
There are few scenes either of human or
elemental strife, upon which I have not look
ed with an eye of daring. 1 have stood in
the front of battle, when swords were gleam
ing and circling around me like fiery ser
pents of the atr I have sat on the moun
tain pinnacle, when the whirlwind was rend
ing its oaks from their rocky clefts and scat
tering them piece meal to the clouds I
have seen these things with a swelling soul,
that knew not, that recked not of danger
but there is something in the thunder's
voice that makes me tremble like a child.
I have tried to overcome this unmanly
weakness; 1 hare called pride to my aid; 1
have sought for moral courage in the les
sons of philosophy but all in vain; at the
first low moaning of the distant cloud, my
heart shrinks, quivers, and dies within me.
My involuntary dread of thunder had its
origin in an incident that occurred when I
was a child ot ten years. 1 had a little
cousin, a girl of the same age with myself,
who was the constant companion of my
childhood. Strange that after the lapse of
almost a score of years that countenance
should be so familiar me. I can still see
the bright young creature, her large eye
flashing like a beautiful gem, her free locks
streaming as in joy upou the sunrise gale ;
and her cheek glowing like a ruby through
a wreath of transparent snow. Her voice
had the melody and the joyousness of a
bird ; ami, when she bounded over the
wooded hill or the fresh green valley, shout
ing a glad answer to every voice of nature,
and clapping her hands m the very ecstacy
of young existence, she looked as if break
ing away like a freed nightingale from the
earth, and going off where all things were
beautiful and happy like her.
It was a morning in the middle of August.
The little girl had been passing some days
at my father's house, and she was now to
return home. Her path lay across the fields,
and I gladly became the companion of her
walk. I never knew a summer morning
more beautiful and still. Only one little
cloud was' visible, and that seemed as pure
and white, and peaceful, as if it had been
the incense smoke of some burning censer
of the slues. The leaves hung silent in the
woods,' the waters of the bay had forgotten
their undulations, the flowers were bending
their heads, as if dreaming of the rainbow
and the dew, and the whole atmosphere
was of such soft and luxurious sweetness,
that it seemed "a cloud of roses, scattered
down by the hand of a Peri" from the far
off gardens of Paradise. The green earth
and the blue sea lay abroad in their bound
lessness, and the peaceful sky bent over and
blessed them. The little creature at my
side was in a delirium of happiness, and her
clear sweet voice came ringing upon the air
as often as she heard the notes of a favorite
bird or saw some strange and lonely flower
ill her wanderings. 1 he unbroken and al
most supernatural tranquility continued un
til nearly noon. Then for the first time the
indications of an approaching tempest were
manifest. Over the summit of a mountain,
at the distance of about a mile, the folds of
a dark cloud became suddenly' visible, and
at the same instant, a hollow roar came
down upon the winds, as if it had been the
sound of waves in a rocky cavern. The
cloud rolled out like a banner-fold upon the
air, bnt still the atmosphere was calm and
the leayes as motionless as before, and there
was not even a quiver upon the sleeping
waters" to tell of the coming hurricane.
To escape the tempest was impossible.
J As the only resort, we fled to an oak that
stood at the foot of a tall and ragged precipice.
There we ..remained and gazed almost
breathlessly upon the clouds', jmarshaling
themselves like bloody giants in the sky.
The thunder was not frequent, but every
burst was so frightful that. the young crea4
ture who stood by me shut her eyes con
vulsively, clung with desperate strength to
my arm, and shrieked as it her heart would
break. A few minutes and the storm was
upon us. During the height of its fury, the
little girl silently raised her finger to the
precipice that towered above us. As I look
ed up, auamethystine flame was quivering
upon its grey peaks, and the next moment
the plouds opened, the rocks tottered to their
foundations, a roar like a groan of the uni
verse filled the air, arid I felt myself blind
ed and thrown I knew not whither. How
long I remained insensible I cannot tell but,
when consciousness returned, the violence
of the tempest was abating,' the roar of the
winds was dying in the distaut tree tops,
and the deep toues of the cloud were coming
in fainter and fainter murmurs from the east
ern hills.
I arose and looked tremblinglv and al
most deliriously around me. She was there,
the dear idol of mv infant love, stretched
out upon the wet green earth. After a mo-
ment of irresolution, I went up andlooked
upon her. The handkerchief upon her
neck was slightly rent, and a single dark
spot upon her bosom told where the path
way of death had been. At first I clasped
her to my breast with a cry of agony and
then laid her down and gazed into her face,
almost with a feeling of calmness. Her
bright dishevelled ringlets clustered sweet
ly around her brow; the look of terror had
faded from her lips and an infant smile was
pictured most beautifully there; the red rose
tinge upon her cheek was as lovely as in
life ; and, as I pressed it to mv own, the
fountain of tears was opened, and I wept as
if my head were waters. I have but a dim
recollection of what followed. I only know
that I remained weeping and motionless till
the coming on of twilight, and that I was
taken tenderly by the hand, and led away
where I saw the countenances of parents and
sisters.
Many years have gone by upon their
wings of light and shadow, but the scenes
I have portrayed still come over me, at times
with terrible distinctness. The old oak yet
stands at the base of the precipice, but its
limbs arc black-and dead; and its hollow
trunk looking upwards to the sky as if
"calling to the clouds for drink," is an em
blem of rapid and noiseless decay. A year
ago I visited the spot, and the thoughts of
by gone years came mournfully back to
me, thoughts of the little innocent being
who fell by my side like some beautiful tree
of spring rent up by the whirlwind in the
midst of its blossoming. But I remember
ed, and oil there was joy in the memory,
that she had gone where no lightning slum
bers in the folds of the rainbow cloud, and
where the sun-lit waters are never broken
by the storm-breath of Omnipotence.
The Com Crop cf Missoiiri Last
week a gentleman, who is a large contrac
tor with the government, informed us that
he had purchased in the counties of Saline,
La Fayette, Clay, &c, on the upper
Missouri, upwards of 30,000 bushels, which
were to be delivered on the river bank, at
the rate of 15cts per bushel ; and that fur
ther down the river he was offered a lot of
about 7,000 bushels, delivered in like man
ner, at 14 cents. The corn crop in this
State, the upper part of Illinois, and in the
territories has been very abundant.
The New Orleans papers are justly in
dignant at an unpardonable and most dan
gerous fraud which had been committed,
in shipping from New York to that port in
the ship Superior, seven hogsheads marked
"crockery," which, on landing at New
Orleans, were accidentally discovered to
contain 9000 pounds of gunpowder.
Jl good Toast. At an Agricultural din
ner, in Massachusetts, a few lays ago, the
following Toast was given : "The game
of fortune : Shuffle the cards as you will,
Spades always win."
The St. Louis Republican contains the
annexed letter, apparently from the mur
derer of Judge Dougherty, which lately
arrived in that city with the Natchez post
mark.
Natchez, (Miss.) Sept. 24.
" Revenge is sweet. On the night of
the 11th, 12th, and 13th, I made prepara
tions, and did, on the 14th, (July kill s
rascal, and only regret that I have not the
privilege of telling the circumstance.
have so placed it that I never can be iden
titled; and further, I have no compunctions
of conscience for the death of Thomas M.
Dougherty.'
New Orleans, Oct. 25.
By the will of the late Mr. Alexander
Milne, of our city, the whole of his immense
estate, after deducting legacies to the amount
of about $200,000, is bequeathed to four
asylums for destitute orphan children, viz:
the Orphan Boy's Asylum of Lafayette, the
Poydras Asylum for Girls, and two others
to be hereafter incorporated by the Legis
lature, and established at Muneburgh.
The property thus secured for the education
of the destitute ophans of New Orleans is
estimated at near a million of dollars; much
of.it consists in unimproved real estate, that
will rise in value, and in the course of time
no doubt this ample provision will be"
doubled. Mr. Milne was a Scotchman,
borne at Fochambers, near Gordon Castle.
He died here at the advanced age of 97
years, having spent upwards of fifty years
of hisjife in our city. To his native town
of Fochambers a fund of $100,000 was
bequeathed for the establishment of free
schools. A number of legacies were left
to his relations, varying in amount from
$100 to $6,000. A liberal maintenance
was allowed also three domestics who had
served faithfully, and ministered to his com
forts in his old age. New Orleans is very
fortunate in having two such citizens as
Milne and Henderson, by whose munificent
donations our posterity is provided with the
means of nurture .and education. Bee.
We learn from the Collegian, that John
A. G. Davis, Esq. Professor of Law in the
University of Virginia, is now engaged in
the composition of a work on Constitutional:
Law. Wh ist it will be adapted to gener
al diffusion, it is more especially intended
to assist the students of the University in
the prosecution of their studies.,
, Jl Fair Hit. The Washington Chroni
cle asserts, in regard to Mr. Clay, that it is
an insult to believe that the people of South
Carolina will support a man who declared
in the Senate that he had " interfered to
save them from the gallows." On this the
Richmond Whig observes that it indicates
much disinterestedness and gratitude in the
South Carolinians, to reject the man who
prevented, them from being hung, and to
sustain heartily and cheerfully the men who
got ready the gallows !
IMPORTANT SAX.E.
ON Monday, the 3d day of December next, will
be sold to the highest bidder, at the Dwelling
House of the late Jimv 8. Rabhtkau, deceased, of
Frankliii County, all his Stock of
Horses, CattleyMules, Hogs &
Steep, Crop of Cotton, Corn, Fod
der, Wheal and Oats,
Household and Kitchen Furniture. Plantation Tools,
&c. One Waggon and Geer, One Sulky and Har
ness, One Ox Uart, and all the GOODS oa hand,
&c. &c. Nine months credit will be given and
bond and approved security required.
JOHN LIGON, Adm'r.
Franklin co., Vov. 8, 1838. 2 3t
IV EW l'ALL A1VO WOTEU GOODS.
LITCHFORD OLIVER,
MERCHANT TAILORS,
JFayettevtlie Street, IZatcigh, C,
4 UK NOW OPENING, at thrir Store, one
I'm. d or below tlie C-ipe F ai Hank, an elegant
as.-; i meut of GOODS in tlulr line, embracing
CSoflis, Cassinieres and Testings,
of every color and quality, of which the follow -
iiij; .conipi isf a part :
Siinf rinp it rwil Dvprl llt'jfl- "
,d' do. Blue
Hifl firecn
Druke N. ck Green
(Irass (ireeil
Kore-t d..
Sle 1 Mixed
-).4nih Fly
Harrington and Pilot, new
aitirie for Overcoat
) Cloths.
S uperior Wool liyed U!a--k "
lloe Skin do.
S:ockinet I'ib'd do.;
l)i;in il do.
Straight do.
Phiin Hlue
WIAl do.
Figured Victoria
Plain l)rb
S ripe do.
Bull Cashmeretts
Cassimeres,.
Sup'r plain Black Mole-akin
Yrlvet
Tiger do. do.
Figured do. do.
W-oolen do. do.
do. ;
Valencia
Buff Cashmeretts '
S Vesiinsrs
Together with an assortment of
READT-MADE CLOTH II C,
Flannel and Buckskin Shirts and. Drawert,
Linen Bosoms and Collars,
MJFFLEO AND PLAIN,
GUM ELASTIC SUSPENDERS,
Hoskin, Buck-skin and Berlin Gloves,
ItlacU &UU If Victoria Cravats,
A SPLENDID AUT1CLE,
Stone Stocks, Satin, Bombazine and Velvety
Tennant's celebrated Stocks,
OF EVEUY KIND
And in faet every thing that can be found in
any similar establishment, North or South.
These Goods bave been selected by the junior
partner in person, who spared neither expense
nor pains in then selection, end we confidently
believe, are the best assortment of Goods ever
opened in the State; for the truth of which,
call and examine for yourselves. We have in .
our emplov first tale Northern Workmen, and
avail ourselves of alt the changes io the Fashions
as scon as they take place at the North. We
therefore have no hesitation in warranting eveiy
thing we make to be as welt and at fashionably,
cut and mde, aacan be, North or South. Mem- ,;
bers pf the Legislature, and others visiting th
City during the Session, would do well to call and
examine our Stock before purchasing. " Those ' "
fnrntshing their own goods may rely upon bv. , ,
ing their work M well executed as thoughwe i
furnished the materials. Orders from distance.
promptly attended to. Thankful for Dast favor ; -
we respecii uny vouch a conunnance oi puouc
patronage. UTCHKOKD & OLIVE ?
Rateign, Nov, Ti 138, . k 'AX