V Elf. have 8Worn uou tUo Altar God, eternal hostility to every form of Tyranny over the Mind of Man.'-Thoms JeffmonT" is MINTED ANJ) PUBLISHED BY If. WEBB. Volume MI. OFFICE OF THE DEMOCRAT, Opposite St. Paul's Church, Main-st. TEHEES The COLUMBIA DEMOCRAT will be Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year. No subscription will be taken for a shorter period than six months; nor any discon linuancc permitted, until all arrearages arc discharged. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding a square will be conspicuously inserted at One Dollar for the first three insertions, and Twenty-five cents for every subse qucht nsertlon. IC7"A liberal 'discount made to those who advertise by the year. LETTERS addressed on business, must be post paid. Extractfrom a Speech, by David Paul Drown, Esq. 'Why,-gentleman, who was it that shed the brightest lustre upon the vast science of astronomy? One David Iiittenhouse. a na tive of Pennsylvania, who followed the plough. "Who was it that tore the lightning from heaven and the sceptre from tyrants ? One Ben. Franklin, a printer's boy, who protected himself from the inclemency of the winter by exercise alone and lived upon a single roll of bread a day. Who was it when the veteran armies of Great Britain faltered and fled, in the Indian war, safely conducted the retreat, and secured the rem nant of the army, though he had 'never set a squadron in the field, nor the division of a battle knew more than a spinster V one ' George "Washington, a- Virginia planter. Who was it that shed tho brightest halo around the brightest reign that tho world ever knew; tho reign of Elizabeth the ago of the Raleighs tho Bacons and Sidney ? wh)it was one Ben. Johnson, a quondam apprentice to a bricklayer; and one WiU Shakspear, a peasant boy, shrewdly sus pected of poaching upon his neighbor's deer. Or, passing from astronomy and po etry to law; who was it that rose from low becinninss, to be Lord Chief Justice of England! one Charles Abbot, whose father was a barbar. Who was it that rose to be Lord High Chancellor of Eng land ? one Jack Copley, whose father was nn American painter. Who was it that be came the brightest star in the judicial con stellation of Great Britain? one Phil Yorkc, whose father no man knew. Or passing to a Btil further illustration; who was it that subjected tnree-iwrths of Europe, and con fident against the world' n arms, made the Autocrat of all Russia tremble w.'on his throne ? one Napoleon, who rose from ' 1 station of corporal to such consummate power, to such dazzling heights to enable iim to look down upon emperors, kings, princes, and tho other potentates of the earth while he unmade them. "Although I do not mean to say that thero never was a great man among the wealthy curled darlings of the nation, yet I do mean to say, and all history sustains the assertion, that luxury and affluence are cal culated to enfeeble the mind, and that those therefore, who nre great in despite of them, would probably bo much greater if removed from their influence. It is a well known fact among gentlemen of tho turf, that blooded horses, who for years have been permitted to browse and career on broken irregular and mountaincous pastures, have acquired a much greater muscular strength in sportsman's phrase better bottom, than those who are fed upon a level surface. The application of this, although a physical illustation, is not difficult. Men, whose lives have been an uninterupted course of difficulty, a perfect uphill work, acquire in time a self-independence, and -a self-sufficiency and promtitude in every emergency, which, those who have been accustomed to stand for fame on their forefather's feet.or to lean for all pleasure upon anothers breast, never have known and nev er can know." published every Saturday morning, at TWO DOLLARS per annum, payable half yearly in advance, or Two Dollars BliOOMSBURCr, COLUMBIA COUNTY,' PA. SATURDAY, JUTE 22, 1839. ON MORAL INSANITY. "Some thirty years ago a young lady, the only daughter of a noblo house in the north of, Germany, from having been one of the most cheerful girls, becamo subject to fits of tho deepest melancholly. All the. entreaties of her parents were insufficient to draw from her the reason of it; to their affections ho was cold, to their caresses rude, and though society failed to enliven her, she bore her part in it with a power and venom of sarcasm, that were as strango to her former character, as they were unbe coming her sex & youth. The parents con trived, doing her temporary absence from homo, to investigate the contents of her writing desk, but no indications of a con cealed or disappointed passion were to be found, and it was equally clear that no pa pers had been removed. -The first news they heard of her was, that tho house in which she was visiting had been burnt to tho ground; that she had been saved with difficulty though her room was not in that part of tho building where the fire had com menced; that her escape had first been taken for granted.and that when her door was burst open she was found seated in her usual melancholy attitude, with her eyes fixed on the ground. She relumed home neither altered in manner nor changed in demanor, and as painfully brilliant in conversation when forced into it. Within two months of her return tho house was burnt to the ground, and her mother perished in the flames ; sho was again found in the same state as on the former occasion; suffered herself to bo led away without eagerness or resistance; did rot alter her deportment upon hearing the fate of her mother made no attempt to consolo her father ; and re plird to the condolence of ):ei friends with a bittcincss and scorn almost demoniacal. l no iaincr anu uaugntcr removed to a spa for change of scene; on the night of their arrival, the hotel was in flames, but this lime the fire began in her apartment, for from her window were the sparks first seen to issue, and again was sho found dressed, seated, and in a reverie. The ho tel was tho properly of the sovreign of the little state in which the spa was situted; an investigation took place; sho was arrested; and at once confessed that on each of tho 3 occasions she had been the culprit; that she could not tell wherefore, except that she had an irrcsi.table longing to set houses on fire; at each time she had striven against it as long as she could, but was unable to withstand the temptation; that this longing first supervened a few weeks after she had been seized with a sudden depression of spirits: that she felt a hatred to all the world but had strength to refrain from oaths and curses against it. She is at this moment , a mad house, where she was at first allowed some liberty, but after an exhibition of homicidial monomania towards a child, of ferocity aYn?ost appalling, it was found unecessary to apply the severest restraint. Sho still possescd her.mmory, her reason ing powers, her petulant wh, and observes the most scrupulous delicacy. Horrible Transaction. Tho Natchez FrceTrader stales that in the circuit court of common pleas of Copiah count), on the 10th inst. Alua Carpenter was put on trial charged with the murder of Mr. Keller, late judge of probate of that county. Tho Jury, after being absent a short time, re turned a verdict of manslaughter. As the officer of Ihe court was on tho eve of ta king the prisoner back to jail, a sudden up roar took place, the lights were all put out, and Carpenter was stabbed in thrco places one of his hands cut off, and he fell a corpse in tho 'hall of the court!' It is supposed that the persons who were engaged in the high-handed and horrible transaction, were relatives of Mr. Keller. An ingonious mechanic of Bangor, Maine, is constructing a beautiful cairiago (o bo propelled solely by the weight of the passenger, applied to (readies. From the Boston .Courier. THE YEOTPJLOQTXISTo CHAPTER I. My friend and chum, .Tim Jocely, pos sessed in a astonishing degree the singular power ot ventriloquist. a nad entered college together I was his room male and many wcie tho times Hhat my friend, while we wero sitting together of an even ing, after all had retired to rest, had given me proof of his astonishing faculty, by fill ing the garret with tho sctcams of turkeys, the squealing of pigs, and with different im itations of the human voice, which he could convey to some remote distance and then gradually bring it nearer and nearer, until it reached the place where he was sitting. It was not known to any of the students ex cept myself, that Tim possessed this power, and he exercised it on so few occasions while at college, and, in one instance made it subservient to tho accomplishment of at least his own gooc and thwarted the purpose of villainy. Tim was a humoious, yet frank and no ble minded fellow, an exc:Vwt scholar, and much beloved by his class mates. There was a fellow in the Sopbmoro class, of the name of David Benson, Ihe son of a wealthy landholder, who possessed in reality, but little talent, but had that Superficial and in solent contemptuous bearing towards all the students, whoso circumstances were in ferior in wealth to his, that rendered him deservedly unpopular among the class -yet, notwithstanding as ho was the son of Major Benson, who was an asrlstocrat of the old school, and who was desirous that his son should be placed in tho highest rank of aca demic honors, tho tutors fas in dutv. or rather, in interest bound J made much of David, and did nutsctuirJ sucrue a len iency and foibearance towards him, 'which they did not extend towards others ; and although dozens of the farmer's sons, among whom was my friend Tim, out-stripped him in study, and in the attainment of sci ence, still there was evidently a desire on the part of the tutors to put him ahead, and to prophecy that he was destined to become the greatest scholar of them all. This mis placed favoritism, added to the insolent and consequential demeanor of Benson, procur ed for him the unanimous dislike of all the school, and many were tho pranks that were played off upon him. David affected a sentimentality and a romance which was in him perfectly ludicrous and would some times perpetrate doggcrnl, which ho sub mittcd to the criticism of the tutors, and sometimes to the students, deficient in meaning or measure, except where he had stolen entire snatches from Byron's 'Hours of Idleness," which never failed to gain him the sneers of the school in the same propor tion as his verses wero .commended bv the teachera. On one oecaftHYTtopycaTcdTt the adjoining village, lvith a copy of his last effort tacked to lib gkirt of his coat, which some inisclueyous student had pin ned thero during Befool hours, and before Benson s departure ui.r,n(r a sumiijr yaca ion. a bal was given at tho neighbong village, and Ben son and Tim among other students who had remained during tl.e vacation were in vited to attend. Amoiig the young ladies, in attendance at tho ball, was Eliza Ayers a beautiful girl of eighteen, whom report said was a great heiress. Sho was an or phan, and under tho guardianship of her un cle, a miserly old fellow, whoso tyrannies, although extended over his own household, had as yet been withheld from his ward. Benson was here introduced to Miss Ayers, and exercised tho wholo of his powers to mako himself agreeable to her. Tim was also introduced and before tho evening drew lo a close, it waf easy to discover that the beautiful and intelligent girl had drawn in her own mind the difference between the two young men. She seemed annoyed at the viped fooleries of Benson, while she listened with a respectful attention, and with a smile, to tho conversation of Tim. The amusements broko up for the evening. Tim was standing by Miss Ayres, who af er some remnrks as to' the happy manner in which the evening had' passed away,con cluded by inviting Tim to call upon her at her uncle's. Before sho had finished this sentence, Benson came up, and politeness afforded her no alternative but to offer the same invitation to him. Ho was about to offer to accompany her home, but Tim had been too quick for him there. Tim ac companied the lady home, and Benson re turned mortified to his room. He hewev ci formed la determination of visiting Miss Ayers, feeling the full assurance that Tim would come off second, when it became known that Tim was the son of a farmer, in moderate circumstances, while he was the son of Major Benson, with a fortune at his command. He accordingly often called on Miss Ayres; and her uncle for reasons which will hereafter be explained, encour aged his visits, and exerted himself to favor him as a suitor to his niece. Benson was fairly in love, ard as many lovers do,he as sumcd a virtue and amiability of deportment which was but ill feigned, and his real cha racter would often appear in spito of him self. Tim had also availed himself of Eli za's invitation and often visited her. A mutual attachment was the conscqucnee, which soon ripened into an alYcction be tween tho two an exchange of vows and a promise of her hand was won from Eliza. Benson, under the eucouragement of her uncle, still continued his suit, proposed and was rejected. He now grew amazing mel ancholy, or at least affected to be so ; and would wander in this mood to tho banKs of the river, and gaze upon the stream proba bly contemplating an acquaintance with su icide, and giving his body to the fishes for dissection. But Benson was not such fool neither. Ilis disappointment became known to tho college, and numerous wero the jibes and taunts the poor fellow got from those he had so insolently domineered over. This of course, did not tend to add much to tho amiability of his temper, and on one occasion he showed his magna nimity and courage by knocking down a bright eyed lad, some five or six years his junior, for saying " that a fellow who had been in the habit of taking airs on himself, had found Ayres that was not so easily taken." Tim, who stood by, saw this ex hibition of Benson's courage, and in return gave him a blow under tho left ear which sent him reeling on tho floor. At this the whole school shouted, nnd Tim was ever after hailed by the youngsters, as a protect or against the tyranny of Benson. But Tim himself was not entirely at ease on tho score of Miss Ayies. The old un cle had frowned upon him, as he entered the house, and had given him sundry hints that Eliza was not for him, while at thn samo time heJaUeje maiiQs upon Eliza respecting her accepting of Benson. This uncle's name was Pell. He had been rasde sole executor of the will of Eliza's father, himself having the profits of the large estate of the deceased gentle man, afler supporting and educating the daughter during her minority or until sho should marry. An item in the will was to this effect that if Eliza married a man of moderate fortune, the whole estate amount ing to sixtv thousand dollars was to become hers, on her marriage day but if her hus band was himself heir to thirty thousand dollars, half the estate became the properly of the uncle which sufficiently explains tho anxiety on the pait of Mr. Pell, that Eliza should marry Benson, as he would thereby become possessed of a snug pro perty. Tim visited Eliza one evening and found her in tears. On his inquiring tho cause, she informed him that Benson had on that day repeated his suit, and had been again rejected that on learning it her uncle had come in and upbraided her, and that if she did not acccept Benson, to dispossess her of her property, alledging that he possessed tho power of doing so, as nobody had over read tho will of her father excepting him selfthat the subscribing witness did not know the contents that probate had neyc Number 8. taken care of it and that it was in his pow er to insert therein a clause requiring that if she married, it must be with the consent of him, and as the guardian and executor of the will: and then if she married Tim it would be without his consent, and sho would thereby become disinherited forever. Can't you get possession of tho will r cnqu'uvd Tim of Eliza. I should think-it impossible, as my un? cle keeps it well secured in an iron safe." " I'll manage it, my dear," replied Tim, and I'll procure the will of tho old tyrant, or I am no conjurer. You have told me, 1 think, that your uncle was very supersti tious." " He is," said Eliza. " He imagines often that he hears the voice of Mr. Jones, and others of his former tenants who are now dead, and no wonder, for his oppres sion was the ruin of those poor men." " In what part of the house does your uncle lodgel" enquired Tim. " On the first floor of the wing at tho extremely of the building," she replied. Tim bade her good evening, and then went to consult Mr. Fletcher, his attorney. After sometime spent in consultation, Tim departed, and was wending his way in a brown study towards his boarding house, when he was accosted by Peter, the black servant of Pell, with " Fjne evening, Massa Jocclyn, I want 'peak to you." Tim stopped, and turned round to tho negro. Ho was a stout, humorous looking fellow, somewhat aged, aud approached Tim very respectfully. He had been bro't up by Eliza's father, and was a favorite do mestic of that gentleman in his lifetime. Peter commenced "Look here Massa Jocelyn, you not know what boon goin on at ' Massa Pcll'a since I let you ontat ds gate dis evenin. Dat feller Benson come agin to cee young mis sus, and she scamped off to her room and shet horsclf up; and den Benson went away. Prelty soon Massa Pell (he wicked old chap Massa Jocelyn) come and call young mis sus out, and tell her she mus marry dat Benson in a month or he turn her outdoor. Poor young missus cry and talk on so, dat I could't land it, and so I fell a blubering too case you see sho my old massa's dar ter, and I carry her in my arm when sho little pickaninny. Dat old Massa Pell ber ry cruel, Massa Jocelyn, and he say she have no property if she not marry Benson. Now Massa Jocelyn, what to be dono Cant you lick dat Benson ? Be sure you can.' Peter was hero interrupted by Tim, who finding from the tone of the ncgro'3 conver sation, that he did not liko his present ma3 ter overmuch, !SamSt service to him in furthering tho plan he was about to propose, asking him where ho slept. 'In little room in de wing; close by mas ter Pell's bed room. He makes mo sleep dare cause he feared and sometimes he talk in his sleep and say he see ghost ; and den he call me in de room, and make mo sit up all night wid candle.' Tom hero informed the negro of the cir cumstances relating to the will that ho was anxious to obtain possession of it for the purpose of having it proved and record ed, and that then it would be out of old Pell's power to injure his yong mistress. Tim I havo said before was a ventriloquist. Ho explained this to Peter, and they togeth er formed the project of frightening old Pell out of tho possession of tho will. It was arranged that Tim should come to the negro's room about twelve oclock that night and their preconcerted management when there is about to appear. It was 5 minutes to 12,the night was dark, and! the wind howled over the tops of tho trees, and creaked tho shutters of tho man sion. Uld Pell had retired to nis room, nan undressed himself, put on hi3 night-cap, and was busy in his mind respecting tho thirty thousand dollars ho was to obtain if Eliza married Benson. He went to the (ron f afe, and took out the will read it over A