The Southern journal., November 15, 1845, Image 1

About The Southern journal. (Monticello, Miss.) 184?-18??

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I I
BY GOHEA & GOUVENEAUX.] MONTICELLO, MIS8ISIPP1, NOVEMBER 15, 1845. [VOL. VI.—NO. 18.
STUD* SO'CSWAIt.
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jp© m T 3B T*
•" -- .... ■ * ^
Our Little Church.
FROM THE GERMAN OF KRrMACIIER.
Oh, only see how sweetly ihcre
Our little church is gleaming!
The golden evening sunshine fair
On tower and roof is streaming,
flow soft nnd tranquil all around!
Where shall i!s like on earth be found?
Through the green foliage bright nnd clear
It peeps out all so gaily
Round on our little village here
And dewn through all the valley,
Well pleased it is, us one may see
With its own grace and putity.
Not always does it fare so well,
When tempests rage and riot,—
Yet even then the little bell
Speaks out:—“’Twill soon be quiet!
T -i nigh clouds look black and pourdown rain
The sunshine, brighter, comes again.”
And when the organ shints nnd sounds,
With silver pipes all glistening,
How every heart then thrills and bounds,
And earth arid heaven seem listening,
Such feelings in each bosom swell!
Bu' wlrat he feels no one can tell.
Oli! sec in evening’s golden fire
Its little windows gleaming!
Bright as a bride in gay attire
With flowers and jewels beaming,
A ye, look now! how it gleams and glows,
Fair as an apricot or rose!
Within our little church shows quite—
Believe me—quite ns nearly,
The lrttle benches, blue and white,
All empty look so sweetly!
On Sunday none is empty found—
There’s no such church the wide world
round!
See where against the pillared wall
The pulpit high is buiided,
Well carved and planned by master-hand,
All polished bright and gilded,
Then comes the parson, undismayed,
They wonder he is not afraid.
But he stands up a hero, there,
And leads them on to Hejiven—
Through all this world of sfn and care,—
Thefl >rl[ his God has given,
Soft fails his word as dew comes down
On a dry meadow parched and brown.
But see, the sun already sinks,
And all the vale is darkling,
Only our little spire still blinks
With day’s last golden sparkling,
How still and sacred all around!
Where shall a church like ours he found?
The N. Y. Mirror says that all the dan
dies in that city are cutting off theii
moustaches. What's in the n ind ?
From the A. • Y. Spirit of the Timet.
A “Millerite,, Miracle.
Louisville, Ky., Sept. 10 1845.
Mr. P.—I have sometimes, to while a
way an idle hour, occupied myself by jot
ting down” my thoughts on paper. 1 send
you the results of one of them. Should
you deem it worthy of publication in your
inimitable columns, I will send you anoth
er, “and yet another.” To be ‘put up’ in
the same “case” with “Daddy Bigg’s
scrape” is ‘glory enough for one day,”—
at least so thinks yours, &.C., C. A. P.
In a little village in the stale of Hoos
icrana, in the year 1844, there was “all
sorts” of excitement concerning the doc
trines and prophecies of that arch deceiv
er Miller. For months, the Midnight Cry,
followed by the Morning IIowl, and the
Noonday Yell, had circulated through the
village and surrounding counties, to an ex
tent not even equalled by Dr. Duncan’s
celebrated Coon Speech. Men disposed
of their property for little or nothing.—
The women were pale and ghastly from
watching and praying, and in fact, the
whole population, or at least (hose who
believed in the coming ascension looked
A a if limit ware* oltnnl Ini'f , i c v • ■ cnoonrl
attack of the chills nnd fever. There
were, however, some “choice spirits,” (not
choice in theirs however,) who, notwith
standing the popularity of the delusion,
would not enlist under the banners of the
ascensionists,nnd among these was a wild
harum scarum blade from “Down East,”
by the name o Cube Newham. N w Cube
was ng hard ‘a <-c e,’ f.s v o i would meet
on a fourth oi July in* T. x-.s, always alive
for fun nnd sport of any and evei y des
crioti m, and a strong disbeliever in Mil
tensor,
The night of the third of April, was
the time agreed upon out west here, for
the gr .nd exiiibiton of‘ground and lofty
tumbling,’ nnd about lOoclock of the same
night, numbers of the Millerites assembled
on the outskirts of the town, on a little
eminence, upon which the proprietor limi
allmveo a few trees to stand. In the
c. '■•d, and the only representative of his
nice present was a free negro by the name
ol r am, about as ugly, black, wooly, and
rough a descendant of Ham, as ever baked
his shins over a kitchen fire.
Sam’s head was small, body and arms
very long, and bis legs boro a remarable
resemblance to a pair of hames; in fact,
put Sam on a horse, his legs clasped round
its neck, his head towards the tail, and his
arms clasped round the animal’s hams,
and at ten paces off you would swear he
was an old set of patent gearing.
The leader of the Millerites owing to
‘an ancient grudge he bore him,’ hated
Sam ‘like smoke,’ and had done all in his
power to prevent his admittance among
the ‘elect,’ but all to no purpose, Sam
would creep in at every meeting and to
night here he(wns again, dressed in a white
robe of cheap’cotton, secured to his body by
a belt, and shouting and praying as loud
as the best.
Now on the morning of the 3d, Cabe
had, with a deal of perseverance, and
more trouble, managed to throw a half
inch hemp cord over the branch of an oak,
which stretched its long arm directly over
the spot where the Millerites would assem
ble; one end he had secured to the body
ofthe tree, and the other to a slump some
distance off. About 10 o’clock, when the
excitement was getting about ‘80 lbs to the
inch,’ Cabe wrapped in an old sheet, walk
ed into the crowd, and proceed to fasten
in as secure a manner as possible, the end
of the rope to the back part of the belt
which confined Sam’s robe’—succeeded,
and ‘sloped to join some of his companions
who had the other end. The stars in the
sky, threw a dim light over the scene, and
in a few moments the voice of Sam was
heard, exclaiming ‘Gor Almighty! Psc a
goin up! Who-o-oh!’ and sure enongh,
Sam was seen mounting into the ‘etherial
blue;’his ascent was, however, checked
wher he had cleared ‘terra firma’ a few
feet. ‘Glory!’ cried one, ‘HallelujahP an
other, and shrieks and yells, ipade night
hideous; some fainted, others p ,red, ar.,
not a few dropped their robes and ‘slid —
Now whether it was owing to the !igh
ness of his head, or tho length and weight
of his heels, or both, Sam’s position was
not a pleasant one: lip belt to which Cabe’*
cord was attached, was bound exactly
round his centreofgravily, and Sam swung
like a pair of scales, head up and heels
down, heels up and head down, at the
same lime sweeping over the crowed like
a pendulum, which motion wasaccellerated
by his strenuous clapping of hands, and
vigorous kicking. At length he became
alarmed, he wouhTnt go up, and he couldn’t
come down! ‘Lor a Massy,’ cried he, ‘jist
take up poor nigger to um bosoin, or lef
him down agin, easy, easy,Gor Almighty!
Let him down again please um Lord, and
dis nigger will go straight to um bed!—
Ugh-h-h’—and Sam’s teeth chattered
with affright, and he kicked again more
vigorously than before, brigning his head
directly downward and his heels up, when
a woman shrieking out,‘Oh! Brother Sam,
take me with you,’ sprung at his head as
he swept by her, &. caught him by the wool
brought him up, ‘all standing.’ ‘Gosh!’ Sis«
ter,’cried Sam‘lef go um nigger’s har.'
Cabe gave another pull at the rope, but
the additional weight was too much, the
Itol t rra V O utav anil dnm L
O - ^7... .?
bullet head taking the lender of the saints
a‘feeler’just between the eyes. ‘Gosh!
is I down agin?’ cried the bewildered Sam,
gathering himself up, ‘I is, bress de Lord!
but I was nearly dar, I seed de gate/’ The
leader wiped his overflowing proboscis,
took Sam by the nap of the neck, led h'm
to the edge of the crowd, and giving him
a kick ‘a la posteriorc,’ said ‘Leave yon
cussed baboon, you are so d—d ugly I
^now'd they wouldn't let yo" in?'
A Western J udge.
A paper published somewhere out West
gives the following report of a Judge’s sen
lence lately passed on a criminal. Brom
ley was doubtless a‘hard case,’ but what
kind of a ‘case’ the judge is, our readers
may determine:
. ‘Bromley, yon infamous scoundrel—
youre an tuivcuceuien vjhain— on ha;nt
a single redecn-.in’ trait ii. your character
— your wife and lamity wish wo had sent
you to die IVnitcfitiitry. This is the fifth
lime /1 « bad you up l eft :e u\e and yon
have pot me to more trouble than your
neck is worth. I've exhorted and prayed
over you long enough, you scoundrel!—
Just go home and take one glimpse at your
family, and be oft’in short order, don’t let
us ever hear of you again. The Grand
Jury have found two other indifctments a
| gainst you, hut I'll discharge you on your
own recognizance, and if / ketch yon in
I this neck of woods I o'morrow morning ai
day light, 77/Suck yen right square in jail
and hump you off to Jeffersonville in little
less than no lime—you infamous scoun
drel! If 7 ever ketch you crooking your
finger at man, woman or child—white
man or nigger—I'll sock you right square
; in to the jug—stand up you scoundrel!
while/passsentence on you!’
Woman's Voice.--How consoling to the
mind oppressed by heavy sorrow, is the
voice of an amiable woman. Like sacred
music, it imparts to the soul a feeling of
celestial serenity, and as a gentle zephyr
refreshes the wearied senses with its soft
and melifluous tones. Riches may avail
much in the hour of afliction ; the friend
ship of man may alleviate Tor a time the
bitterness of woe; but the angel voice of
woman is capable of producing a lasting
effect on the heart, and communicates a
sensation ofdelicious composure which the
mind never before experienced, even in
the moments of its lightest felicity.
The Fuschit^,
At the Boston Horticultural Exhibi
tion the following anecdote was related
by the Rev. W.Chouleson (heaolhori.
ty of Mr. Shepherd, the accomplished
conservator of (he Botanical Gardens
at Liverpool, respecting the introduc
tion of lhat flowery shrub, the Fuschia
into the green-houses of Europe:—
Old Mr. Lee, a well known nursery
man and florist at Greenwich, near
London, about fifty years ago, was one
day showing his variegated treasures
to a person who suddenly turned and
' id,“well, you have not in your whole
collection so pretty a flower as one
I saw to-day in a window at Wap
ping.”
“Indeed, and what was this phenix
'like?”
“" by, the plant whs beautiful, and
the flowers bung down like tassels
from the drooping branches; their color
was the deepest crimson, and in thp
centre a fold of rich purple.”
Particular inquiries were made as
to the exact whereabouts, and Mr Lee
posted off to the place, where he
discovered the object ofhis pursuit,and
immediately pronounced it n new plant.
He saw and admired.
Entering the bumble dwelling, he
said, “My good woman, this is a nice
plant of yours; 1 should like to
buy it.”
“Ah, sir, I couldn’t sell it for no
money; it was brought me from foreign
parts by my husband,m who has gone
again, and 1 must keep it for his
sake.”
“But I must have it.”
“No, sir; 1 can’t spare it.”
“Here,” emptying his pockets,“here
is gold, silver, and copper,”(his stock
amounting to more than eight guineas.)
“Well a-day; this is a power of mon
ey.”
“'Tis yours, and the plant is mine,
my good woman. I’ll give you one of
me ursi young ones i rear 10 Keep lor
your husband's sake; 1 will, in" deed.’’
The bargain was struck, a coach
called, inwhich old Mr. Lee and his
apparently dearly-purchased flower
were deposited. On returning home,
bis first* work was tostrip offand de
stroy every blossom and bud; the plant
w as divided into small cuttings, which
were forced into bark-beds and hot
beds, and again subdivided. Every
effort was employed to multiply the
plant. Mr. Lee became the delighted
possessor of three houndred fuschias,
all giving promise of fine blossoms,
The two which first expanded were
placed in his window. A lady came
in,“Why, Mr. Lee, my dear Mr. L» e
w here did you get this charming flow'
er?”
“’Tis a new thing, my lady—pretty
is it not?”
“Pretty! ’tis lovely; its price?”
“A guinea, your ladyship;” and one
of the two plants that evening stood ir
beauty on her ladyship’s table in her1
boudoir.
“My dear Charlotte, where did you
get that elegant flower?’’
“Oh, ’lis a new thing; I saw it al
old Mr. Lee’s, pretty is it not?’
‘Pretty! ’tis beautiful what did il
_4
‘Only a guinea and there was ano
(her re ft. ’
The visitor’s horses trotted offtc
the suburb, and a third beauleoui
plant graced the spot from whence the
first had been l»ken. The second
guinea was paid, and the fuschi* a
domed another drawing room of fash
ion. The scene was repeated as new
calls were made l>y persons attractec
by the beauty of the plant. Tw<
plants graceful and bursting into flow
er, were constantly seen on the same
spot. He gladdened the faithful sail
or’s wife with the promised flower, ant
before the season closed, nearly three
hundred guineas jingled in his purse
the produce of the single shrub from
the window at Wapping, as a reward
of old Mr. Lee’s taste, skill, and de~
cision.
A MesmencTPeqTlnttrThe Yeat
2000.
“■Astonishing!”
“Miraculous!”
“Unaccountable!”
“Strange-mysterious—and wonder
ful!”
“Never saw his equal. There was
Pawen, Johnscfti and Colycr, but”
“Pooh!—mere children in comparison.
N.> profession of the science can come near
Dr. Squiggs.”
“Faith!—that’s true enough. Why,
you might cut off his subject’s hand or his
fool”
“Ay;—or skin him alive.”
“He’d not move a muscle, except, per
haps, to smile—like as if you were
tickling him with a long pigeon fea
ther.”
“Ton my life, 1 believe so.”
“And then such clairvoyance!—Did you
observe?”
“Certainly. Did not the lad read the
finest print through a two inch -poplai
plank, just as if it had been a watch*
chrystal ?”
“Exactly. And their to hear him tell
whether it was a copper or a sixpence that
the ladyjiad in her hand!”
“He missed that at the first guess, I be
lieve,”
“Ay;—but he had it right the second
lime.”
“True;—the magnetiser did but give
him a fillip to stir him up, and by Her
cules he answered immediately—a six
pence.”
“That’s enough to satisfy me that there’s
something in the science.”
“It would be Worse than atheism to
doubt it.
“Bv the way, didn’t Dr. Squiggs say lie
would do something still more wonderful at
the next exhibition?”
“Ay, that will be worth seeing. ”
“Must go, if I have to sell my lust shirt
to raise the quarter.”
Such was the conversation which I heard
one night while pausing at the door of an
exhibition room, where a magnetizer bad
just closed his perfoinrmnce of theevening.
I was interested, and resolved“lobe present
at the next lecture.
The time came—room well filled—the
operator, a New England gentleman in a
brown Holland coatee, buff vest and nan
keen pants considerably too short in the
legs, mounted the stage.
This was Dr. Squiggs. A sliarp.fuced
cunning looking youth of sixteen, (tin
doctor 3 son,) was seated in a chair on iht
platform.
This lad was the “subject.” and a pretti
deep one too, as a single glance at hin
might convince you.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the mag
netizer, “I have promised to go a leeth
ahead of every thing to-night, and I’ll kee|
! my word, because lam a man that can bi
depended upon.”
“I’m just going to make the grindcs
of all experiments in clairvoyance. 1’1
show you how, by means of the Mesmerii
fluid, it is possible to see any thing—
past, present, or future. Which do yoi
choose ?”
“Give us a small squint at the future,1
said an elderly gentleman with gold spect
acles.
“Capita!!” shouted several voices, *hat’
the very thing. The future, Squiggs.nuthinj
hut the future.
“Well gentlemen,’’ said the magnetise!
“it can he done—but it’s mighty laboriou
to the subject, and I guess it’ill cost me a
least five dollars to physic him after hi
fatigue and waste of animal vigor. Be
sides, it's a leetle dangerous, as the excite
ment is apt to throw the person magnetizei
into a fever.”
“But say you’ll raise lne the extr
five dollars and I’ll try to accommodal
i you.”
“Oh, to be sure,” cried the gentlema
with the gold spectacles—“pass sroun
the hat and here is a shilling to begi
I with*.”
The hat travelled around the room an
was finally handed to the operator, wh
counted the money collected and then r<
marked:—
“It doesn’t quite come up to the notcl
but I shan’t stand for trifles. Now Jos jpl
(to the subject,) we’re going to do aorm
thing extr’ornary—but don’t be fright
ened.”
“See, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll put hin
to sleep hy the short process, to save time
Just one touch of the forehead and it’
done.”
“Now he’s asleep. Come J<(seph,
want you to suppose first it’s spring—ima
gine that you see the flowers springing am
the birds singing—then think of summer
thin jockets, niggers hollowing ice-cream
&. Then s’pose it’s autumn—look at thi
fellows mowing grass and cradling grain
and the gals raking among ’em—then comt
to winter, and see the boys skating and tltt
sleigh- jingling.”
“Now go oyer that process again ant
again, and, as often as you go over it, make
a murk on this here stale, till you have a
hundred and fifty-five marks and. then
stop.”
[JereDr. Squigga stopped himself, fed
took a drink from a pitcher on the table.—
lie then seated himself and looked compla
cently around on the audience, who awaited
the sequel with intense anxiety. After a
while, the doctor rose.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said be, “Jo
seph stops, he’s completed the cycle. Yea,
my respected audience, he’s now in the
yfar 2000.”
“You’ve heard of people who were
knocked into the middle of next week.—
Well, Joseph has knocked himself into
the beginning of next century.”
“Droll, isn’t it? Come Joseph, let’s lake
a walk through Philadelphia. What do you
see Joseph?”
“Every thing looks all-fired queer,” an
umeser) flam oukia/il
--J
“Not a bit of donbt m of that”—-re*
marked tbe Doctor. “But what’s go*
ing on?”
“It must be holiday. Nobody seems to
have any thing to do.”
•‘Eh? may be it’s Sunday.”
“No—the shops are all open and tbe
churches are shut. 1 see whole rafts of
men walking about with their hands in
their |pockets and with segars in their
mouths.”
“Smoking in the streets, eii? that will
be in fashion, it seems. You see, ladies
and gentlemen, prejudice and ignorance
don’t last forever, it’s foolish, I always
thought, todenounce that pleasant practice,
street-smoking. 1 like it myself and would
follow it, only at this time it’s thought ray
ther vulgar. Whatelse, Joseph?”
“He, he, he!” laughed the subject—
“there goes a cart full of bricks without
any horse—goes by steam, by hokey
“There’s a gentleman silting in acar
, riage that moves itself—got a biler right
, under the seat and a chimbly runs up be
hind him. How he clips it! Gracious!
. He stops at a pump and fills up. Now he’s
. off again. Horses ain’t no more use, 1
, see.”
> “Ah,” observed Dr. Squiggs, “here’s a
very important fact. In the year 2000 all
vehicles will he moved by steam. Gentle
I men and ladies will ride about in their
. steam gigs and sulkies.”
“Carts and drays will be driven by steam,
i and horses will be shown for curiosities in
zoological collections. No doubt of it.— •%
1 Whatelse, Joseph?”
“Now I see what’s the reason nobody
has any work to do,”said thesubject. Eve*
> ry thing’s done by steam. Good—by golly!
; I like that.”
“Let us lake a peep into one of the pub*
, lie schools, Joseph.”
5 “Yes sir.”
t “What do you see?”
i “There’s a steam apparatus to set co*
- pies and sharpen slate pencils, with an ex
- tra fixture for flogging the boy's. Works
) first rate.”
•■Iou see, lames and gentlemen, how
» steam will be made subservient to the pur*
? poses of education. At least half the duties
of the instructor will be performed by ma
i chinery.”
3 “And quite as conscientiously, no doubt,
i said the old gentleman with gold specta
cles, as they are now done by human be*
1 ings.”
0 “O, much better, sir,” answered Dr.
* Squiggs, machinery works with more re
gularity—it has no preference for particu
i, lar classes or individuals. Well, Joseph,
,, where are we now*” ‘Looking at one
. putting up a building, sir. There’s a
- steam contrivance for histing up the bricks
and another to lay’em. No hod-carriers
, or brick-lays. I guess they can build a
house in about half hour.*
, ‘Yes, and insure it not to tumble down
again before the plaster is dry,’ said Dr.
[ Squ'ggs* with a sarcastic allusion to cere
. tain archiiutural accidents of the present
1 day. ‘Is there ever a tailor’s shop in this
vicinty Joseph t’
, ‘Yes, sir—close by. Bless my s ail! I
i don’t see any individual sitting cross-leg
, ged and boubled up on the shop board._
f There comes a man with a piece of cloth—
he puts it into a machine and it cornea out
at the other end made up into coata and
pantaloons.’