A FAMILY
So Ws
RAL INTELLIGENCE.
The Messenger will be published (50 times aycar,)
or. Wednesdays, al $2 in advance, $2 50 after
To Widows
To Clubs of 5, the Mossrn^cr will be furnished for
$8 73 of 6 for $10. .10 for $16 25, or 16 for $21.
If paid in six months.
Job Work of every kind neatly executed at short.
from Ilie olli-
papers
Blank Warrants
Constables
Appeal
’ POST PAID.
I Injunctions
IZ Tv Deed
k y ^o J1.
.5 ^'a : i W. Sit isy, is our ngent for Chaile
WUSihim TJs-'^sap*^”, tor Baltimore.
AV
RTii 52. i^ erriis, for Haywood.
?». (3. £2. Ml •:> 38;! L for Cherokee.
.2. C. Wantons, for M..DiwaH.
Higley & Patton, for Hinders.
•Dolan C. Ory^m. for Macon.
ILL EL 4xrce^a3ee, for Burke
THE LA IF OF FE AHL A FE1W.
1. All subscribers who do not give express notic
3 If subscribers nc^b
bills are settled and
Beautand ^egy.
She sleeps that still and placid sleep
For which the weary pant, in vain
And where the dews of evening weep,
I may not, weep.again;
O. never more, upon her grave,
Shall I behold the wild flower wave!
They laid her where the sun and moon
Look on her tomb with loving eye,
And I have heard t he breeze of June
Ind the wild river’s wailing song
Grow dirge-l:ke as it stole along!'
And I have dreamt, in many dreams,
Gf her—who was a dream to me,
And talked, to her by summer streams,
In crowds, and on the sea,—
Till in mv soul she grew enshrined,
A young Egeria ofthe mind!
‘Tis years ago!.—-and other eyes
Have flung their beauty o'er myycuth,
And I have hung on other sighs,
And sounds that seemed like truth,
And loved the music which they gave,
Like that which perished in the grave.
And I have left the clod and dead,
To mingle with the living cold,—
There is a weight around my head,
My heart is growing old I—
O; for refuge and a home,
With thee, dear Ellen, in thy tomb 1
Age sits upon my breast and brain,
Mv spirit fades before its time,
But they are all thine own again,
Lost partner of their prime?
And thou art dearer, in thy shroud,
Than all the false and living crowd!
Rise, gentle vision ofthe hours,
Which go—like birds that come not
back!—
And fling thy pall and funeral flowers
; On memory’s wasted track!—
0 for the wings that made thee blest,
To “flee away and be at rest!”
COINCIDENCE.
The following remarkable fact
is
mentioned by a writer in the National
Intelligencer, after stating that Hon. J.
Q..Adams died in the National Cab-
itol:
“The fact is worthy of note that the
building in which Mr. Calhoun died was
built for rhe use of the Congress of the
United States and was used as the Cap
ital during the rebuilding of that edifice,
after its destruction by the British
troops: and therefore, the walls in which
he drew his last breath have often e-
choed to his voice, as poured forth in the
defence of his principles, in that rap
id torrent of eloquence and logical rea
soning, which though it might fail to
convince,, never failed to electrify his
hearers,”
S II EVI LIE,
’ “T ~ -
z: :z^z^ T z:
.-0.
4 4
’7 Pd WW7
IDA ^ W
! z±z®z5zez
J3E«^_^_
r; ^
®zi?izL^z:
^Z^ZSZ^Z.
bass'
(Z^Fz^zzz:::
- - --^-I-
:zez:
—essss^
±F?z:
Z^ZZ^ -
• ff—& @ ■
What is this that steals that steals upon my frame?
Which soon will quench, .will quench this vital llune!
$|^z|^z?£F*±^^
—7-7--^ r^-
Death —Is it
Death—Is':
zzAmZIzezzz'Ezzg’
-^
adi? 1 If this 6c Death, I
*
■ftztz
jZ^~ ^~?~®'~S?'~^~
-® —-&-&— ^ &
^
Fz^z^
:z Q ..rt ; ®zszz
-0-^—7 or
:z^z?z®z£
gzpzgz^z
zzzEEizjE HEeH
- 1_L__ ^
_c_5z^z^z^'
-ziz: :zzlzzz|z=|z^z:±zi :^:^z
-0 -^ ^ £?--- & ~ & ~ & (
^-^
soon shall be From 'eve - ry pain and sor-row free; I shall th: king of glo ry see;
z£z*z^zsz 5 z:
:az®z?zpz^z:
■—0—0—&—!
:zaz^z®z?:
All is well—
-t^z^zpEF
.^—I—I--—I— ± ^
^ -0 —& —^
:zp z^z^zz^zz^
^ i H H 1—-
——. ^ ^.
0
z^z^z:
18 5®
WM® 1 E «9. 5 6 9.
science he did not understand, the heart
of woman.
‘That is true,’ said Margaret, or you
would long since have perceived that
Catharine's was yours, and now the mis-
tery is out.’
It required all her eloquence to con
vince Luther of the truth of this asser
tion, he was forty, and Catharine but
little more than ha.f that number of
years; that she could prefer hi n. to her
suitors seemed to him incredible. Mar
garet, however, had said it, and a new
life opened to Luther, in the Affection
of a young and beautiful womno
When he spoke to Catharine do the
subject of matrimony, be was a.
The above sounds most euphoniously
on paper! But where in our country,
has the farmer, for skill, diligence, and
excellence, been honored in that charac
ter, however conspicuous his merits., and
however much Ids example may con
tribute to the solid welfare of society?
Look on the walls of your Capitols, and
public Institutions;—see them cover
ed with portraits, and their niches
filled with busts, but—of whom? Of
such men as Lowell, and John Lincoln,
and Phinney,—of Livingston, and Ruel
-—of John Taylor of Caroline, of Gan
nett, .or of Ruffin, of J. H. Cocke, qr of
Peter Minor?—of Pinkney or Herber-
^——i— —
all is well.
—0-
^^-.
Weep not my friends; my friends weep not for mi
All is well—all is well.
My sigs arc pardon’d — pardon’d—I am free;
All is well—all is well.
There’s not. a cloud that doth arise,
To hide my Jesus from my eyes;
I soon shall mount the upper skies;
All is well—all is well.
Tune, tune your harps, your harps, ye saints in glory!
All is well—all is well.
I will rehearse, rehearse the pleasing story;
All is well—all is well.
Bright angels are from glory come;
They’re round my bed, they’re in my room,
They wait to waft mv spirit home.
411 is well—all is well.
Hark! lark! my Lord, my Lord arid master calls me!
1 soon
All is well—all is well;
ball see, shall see his face in glory;
All is well—all is well,
aicwcll, my friends' adieu—adieu!
can no longer stay with you;
ly glittering crown appears in view;
AH is well—all is well.
The Birth, IVSarrisge and
Beath of leather.
These three eras in the life of the
‘great reformer? we copy from that in
teresting volume published years ago,
entitled ‘Luther and his Times,’ and
written by a lady of Boston:
BIRTH OF LUTHER.
A poor miner, who wrought in the
mines of Mansfield, and lived at Eisen
ach, took a journey to Eisleben, to at
tend the annual fair. His wife was too
desirous to accompany him to be deni
ed; and, on the nightthey arrived, she
gave birth to a son. He was born on
the 10th of November, in the year
1483, on the eve of St. Martin’s day;
and from this circumstance his parents
named him Martin. The father strove
to educate his son in virtuous habits;
and, according to the spirit of the age,
considered strict discipline a powerful
aid to good conduct; to this young Mar
tin was early subjected. As he grew
older, he was placed in an institution at
Eisenach, where he had access to the
learning there taught; but was unpro
vided with funds, and had not money to
procure food. In company with several
other students, as poor as himself, he
endeavored to procure bread by singing
at the doors of wealthy houses. On
these occasions he sometimes sang his
own compositions—at others, the favor
ite ditties of the day—and sometimes
he chanted, forth the sufferings of the
martyrs. All thishe called bread music.
It does not seem to have had the power
‘to soothe the savage breast:’ for he
was often taunted and reproached—
accused of idleness and evil designs—
and driven away—by menials—though
the only reward he asked for his music
al exertion was a piece of bread. On
one of those days, when his very soul
was filled with shame and indignation
for the hard language he received, he
wandered to the humble dwelling of
Conrad Cotta; and throwing himself on
a seat before it. overshadowed by an
cient tress, he relieved his overburdened
heart by low, plaintive music. Wheth
er moved by the melody ofsong, or the
tenderness of a woman’s soul. Louisa.
Cotta, the wife of Conrad, hastened to
the door, and invited him to enter. She
then placed before him the simple fare
her humble habitation afforded, bread
and honey, with milk from the moun
tain goat. The honest, ardent gratitude
of the youth, with his simple story, won
not only her confidence, but her affec
tion. She invited him to come every
day and get his meals. He soon equal
ly interested the husband, and they both
continued their friendship to him. Ma
ny years after, when all Europe rung
with the name of the reformer, they
remembered that the poor hungry boy
they fed was Marfin Luther.
In the year 1501, a, thin, pale youth
stood at the gate of the University at
Erfurt, and petitioned for entrance.—
When asked if he was qualified to make
such a request, he replied: “He who
prays as he ought, has already finished
MARRIAGE OF LUTHER.
Some time after Luther camo to Me=
lancthon’s house and requested to see
Catharine Alone.
Margaret hastened to her, and gave
her the message, She entreated her
friend to return with her.
‘That would not do,’ replied M
ret; ‘ he s;.id expra^iy al^m i he
doubtediv lias-something verv partic
lar to
Now’ Catharine, take cour-
age, and open your heart?
Poor Catharine went with trembling
steps to the presence of Luther.
‘1 have sent for you, my child,’ said
he, ‘to converse on the subject of mat
rimony ; I hope you are convinced it
is a holy state.
‘ Yes, sir,’ said Catharine.
‘ Are you prepared to embrace it ?’
‘ No sir? she replied.
‘Pershaps you have scruples on the
score of monastic vows; if so, 1 will
mark some passages 1 have written
on that subject, that I may set your
mind at rest?
Catharine was silent.
‘I perceive that! do not make much
progress in my purpose. I am little
used to these matters, and I had better
be direct.’
‘Do you mean to abide by your mo
nastic vows, or will you marry, like a
rational woman ?’
The direct appeal seemed to rouse
her courage.
‘ Even Doctor Martin Luther has no
right? said she, ‘to ask that question
without explaining his motive?
‘ Well said Kate,’ replied he, laugh
ing ; ‘I must tell you, then?
‘ There is a person who would gladly
take you, ‘ for better or for worse.”
Catharine’s color rose, and her eyes
sparkled with additional brightness.
‘ Now say, has he any chance ?’
‘ You have not told me who he is?
said she, resolutely.
‘And you have not told me whether
you have any scruples of conscience on
the subject; if you have, God forbid
that I should urge you?
‘ When I left the convent? said she,
in a low voice, ‘it was because it would
have been hypocrisy in me to have re
mained there. 1 took the vows ignor-
antly, and almost by compulsion. 1 em
braced the reformed religion with an
inquiring and willing faith. God for
give me, that I so long offered him the
worship of mv lips, while my heart was
far from him.’
‘ And now,’ said Luther, after waiting
for her to finish her sentence.
‘ Now? she replied, ‘I need-net ask
his.forgiveness for worshipping him in
spirit and in truth. lam no longer a
nun.’
‘Well,’ said Luther, ‘I suppose this
is as direct an answer as I may expect.
So. to my purpose.’
But even Luther stopped short, sur
prised at Catharine’s emotion.
. ‘Perhaps, my dear? said he, kindly,
‘I do wrong in speaking to you myself;
T had better commission Margaret. I
suppose women converse on these mat
ters better together, and yet, as I have
begun, I will finish. The other day,
half his labors and his studies.” This,
too, was Martin Luther; but he did Bodenstein, the nephew of Carolstadt,
not come unprovided with credentials; came to me to! solicit my influence with
he brought undoubted testimony of his
you. He wishes you to marry him. I
morals and good conduct, and was re- told him I could have no particular in-
ceived with cordiality.
ilueice with you, unless you have scru-
plesjof conscience about marrying.—
lie is a clever young man, and I see no
obi tion He is very unlike his fanat-
rnht have talked an hour with-
ring a reply. Catharine's
changed; there was no
ingyou please,’ said she, ‘so
never see him again?
Why, this is strange? said Luther;
a did not seem to have scruples of
history of her long attachment, which
had become so much the reverie of her
silent hours. The betrothment took
place, and very soon the marriage fol
lowed.
DEATH OF LUTHER.
On the 17th of February, he grew so
ill that his friends requested him not to
go out. In the evening he spoke much
of his approaching death. Some one
asked him if he thought we should
know one another in a future world; he
replied with energy, ‘I truly believe so.’
When' he entered nis chamber with his
friends and sons, he remained a long
time at prayer. Afterward he said to
the physician who arrived, ‘lam very
weak, and my sufferings increase.’
They gave him drops, and tried to
restore heat by fraction. He spoke af
fectionately to Count Albert, who was
near him, and said, ‘ I will lie do'wn and
try to sleep half an hour. I think I
shall feel relieved.’ He composed him
self, and soon fell- asleep, and did not
Yvake for an hour and a half. When he
opened his eyes he said, ‘ And are you
all still sitting here? Why do you not
go to your repose?* It was eleven
at night. He then began to. pray most
fervently in Latin. ‘’ In manus tuas
commando spiriturn Meum Domi ne Deus
veritatis. Bray, all of you, that the
reigh of our Lord may be extended, for :
the council of Trent and the Pope are !
full of threatenings.” Again he closed
his eyes and slept a shert time; when
he awoke, he requested to rise, and went
to the window and looked out upon the
winter landscape—the clear heavens—
one ci them. They are but common
civil benefactors of their race! Go ard
look at those who are honored withpriv-
7c ed seats on the floor of t’ne Senate of
the United Si at.es, and who are they?
Men who have taught two blades of
grass to grow where one grew before?
Would Pennock, the inventor of the
Horse Rake , be allowed by the Mes
senger to peep in at the door? Would
poor Fitch or Rumsey, inventors of
steamboats, or Whitney, whose cotton-
gin added hundreds of millions to the
wealth ofthe country, ifalive, be priv
ileged by the grave*and reverend Sen
iors, Representatives of the Farmers
and Planters, to take their seat
dde men
along-
whose only distinction has
been infields ofbloodl Not a bit of it!
Away then with all this fulsome, stere
otyped, thread-bare, vain, emtpy flater-
ing ofthe Plough; until those who fol
low it, pluck up the courage to demand
a fraction at least of the millions they
now pay annually for military instruc-.
tion and military establishments (en?
ough to build 1000 miles of rail road'
annually,) to be applied to instruction
in the use of the plough.
Turnips— Much difterene of opinion
exists in relation to the proper time‘for
planting turnips. Those who wruld
have early turnips, must run some risk
nor despair if they lose one or two plant
ings. To have good early fall turnips,
imported or Northern seed only should
be sowed. Largo Red Top English
Norfolk, Long Hanover and White
Dutch may be planted from the 20th of
July to the 20th of August. For later
crops, seed of our own raising will an-
moon, glittering on the frosty bill tops.
‘My dear Jonas,’ said he/‘I was born
at’Eisleben,and here, 1 believe, I shall
rest.’ He then prayed most devoutly.
There was an evident change in his
countenance; which induced his friends
to summon tbe physicians. Count and
Countess Albert, also hastened to his
room. He turned to them, and said,
‘Beloved friends, I die, here.’ He beg
ged them all to bear testimony, that he
died in the faith he had taught. His
prayers continued fervently, till, sud-
dendenly, his eyes closed; clasping his
hands together, without a struggle he
breathed his last.
swer every purpose.—For a general
crop, there is no turnip to compare with
the English or Sweedish Ruta Baga.
They are richer in saccharine matter
more productive, and keep better, than,
any other turnip in this climate. They '
produce a large smooth leaf, superior
to the collard lor greens. HFpFand
stock of all kinds are extravagantly
lend ofthe roots, and most pebble!prefer
them for the table. It is notiYcoI^
just now. My dear Catha-
you must not forget that you have
utral relations here, and this man
be a protector to you.’
wish you -would not speak of him,’
ied she.
s there any one else that you like
r ?’ said Luther.
e made.no reply.
ray, speak; I have every disposi-
to serve you; has any other person
e the same proposition to you ?’
Ics? said Catharine, with a little
conscience
arine, you i
tior
ma
wonanly pride. ‘Counsellor Baum-
ner has made the same proposals.’
do you prefer him ?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, rising; ‘but I am
as happy as I expect to be. My friends
assure me, that I am no Burden, but a
help to them, and so I wish you good
morning.”
Poor Catharine hastened to her room.
Het dream was over. Du the^the aus-
terd, the insensible reformer, had awa-.
kened her from it. Margaret entered
while her eyes were yet red with weep
ing She tenderly approached, and
embraced her; but neither exclaimed
a word.
‘There is no hope for Bodenstein,
thought. Luther; ‘it is evident Baum
gartner is the object, Catharine is a
child; if the elector dies she is without
a support, except by the labor of her
hands, and they do not look as if they
were made for labor. I will write to
Jerome Baumgartner; he is well known
as a young counsellor at Nuremburg?
Accordingly he wrote,
1524, October 12th.
VI you would obtain Catharine Von
Borne, hasten here before she is given to
another who proposes for her. She has
not yet conquered her love for you. I
shall rejoice to see you united.
LUTHER.
The young counsellor received this
letter with surprise*and incredulity.—
The positive refusal of Catharine, some
months before, had left no doubt on his
mind; and he thought the wisest plan
was to enclose the letter to her, and* in-'
quire whether it was written with her
sanction.
In the meantime, Luther’s friends
began to urge him to marry, particular
ly Melancthom ‘
‘You preach? said he, why do you
not practice?
He protested, however, that he would
The plough and the Sickle.
; BY TRISTMAxV BURGESS.
With a pioneer axe, what a conquest is
made !
What a field from the forest is won !
Whatzregions,’reduced from the wilder
ness shade,
Are now warmed in the rays ofthe sun,
From the rock where our fathers in cf-
ile first landed,
Their clearning, from river to river, has
not be caught in .the snare; that his
time Was now fully occupied.
When Catharine received the letter
from her former lover, she was filled
with astonishment, and requested Mar
garet to speak to Luther on the subject.
Ile ^aid he had done what he thought
was right and would be agreeable to all
parties; but he found there was one
And mountains and plains by their sons
are commanded,
Till now on the beach of Pacific they
tread.
What a farm for a nation to cultivate
now,
And gather the wonderful harvest it
yicddsl " " ’ "
’Tis an empire, reduced to the Sickle
and plough,
An empire of gardens, and orchards, and
fields!
Hail, Nations of Farmers! rejoice in
your toil,
And shout when your harvest’ is o’er;
R^cerYd the oppressed to your land with
a smile,
But frown every foe from your iron-
bound shore.
And he who by deeds has now reached
a high station,
And is called to preside o’er the com
monwealth now,
Must relinquish his farm to save our
young nation,
As for Koine, Cincinnatus relinquished
his plough.
The plough and sickleshall shine bright
in glory
When the sword and sceptre shall crum
ble and rust;
And the framer shall live, both in song
and story,
I When .warriors and kings are forgotten
- in dust.
bushels to the acre, and there is no good
reason why they will not produce equal
ly as abundantly here. -They should be
planted from the middie of July to the
middle of August, in drills 2 1-2 feet a-
part, and when up, thinned ourto 12in-
Ches. In fresh new
land they may
be sowed broad c
them very thin. It was an old maxim
of my Father's “that to planta square
of the garden in turnips, vou should '
take a thimble (nil of seed, stand in the
square, and threw the seed all over the
fence.” Mosi crops arc injured by too
much seed.—AIuscorer Democrat,
: Simic’s ^Department
The mothers of this generation must '
form the men and women of the next.
make up for a lack of mental and phys- '
leal development in woman. It is the '
mother who gives the elements of great-
us this lesson; and no sociOy, no nation
can advance where the culture, and all
that goes to form the character of wo-"
man, arc negle
fail of greatm
held in genuine respect.
ind no nation can
rere woman are .
woman” Her first right is to cduca-Z
lion, in its widest sense—to such edit
cation as will give her the full devel
opment, of all her personal, mental, and
moral qualities,
will be no longei
her rights: and rights
sUon about;
liable to be
perverted to wrongs when we are in
capable of rightly exercising them.—- ‘
Give woman health, beauty, high intel
ligence, and ihat purity of soul and be
nevolence of heart which belong to her
nature, and she would have no difficulty
in making her proper place in society;
for she would have the forming of they
thought, and taste, and moral sentiment '
of the world. It seems hard to regen
erate the world; but the work would
be easy, if we could but see the means -
which God has appointed. We have
only to give full play and free develop
ment to the love principle which finds
its form and expression in the pure na
ture of woman, in order to reform the
world.
There is no danger that, we shall ev
er esieem too highly, honor too much, or
treat with a too tender consideration,
the mothers of our race. No chivalry
was ever extravagant; it was only mis- 7
guided. The impulse was holy, but