- . . - jjj t H 1 1 0
"That Government is the best which govern least'
PRt.rrEIM PVULISIIEU)
mr lbvi L. TATE. 5
Dr. llerkely's Prophecy.
The following line has btcoms Interesting
to Americans from the fact that they were writ
ten long before it Wei 4 matter nl reasonable cal
culation thrt we wouMerer becnm emancipated
Iruin our Colonial vaiaU(jo. The tu'.hor wai
Bishop of Cloyne, and celebrated ai a intnphyi
cisn. " '
The mute, disgusted at an ace and clime
t Harren of every xtnrinus thvine,
In ilitant land now wailn a belter time,
Producing subject wortl y Ume.
In hupp? climes, when", from the genial sun
And virgin earth, such scenes enme
- ' The force of art by Naiure seems undone,
" Aud francied beauties by the true.
In happy climes, the seat of innoct-nc,
; Whurn JValurt guide and virtue rules
Yhr men shall not impm lor truth and seme
The pedantry of coui la aud schools.
There shall be svn another goldsn age
'The rise of mHre and ofopM
The good and xreat inspirit epic rage,
. ' - The wisest heads and noblest hearts.
' ! Not such as Europe breeds in her decay:
Such ss she bred when fresh and younc,
' When heavenly flame did animate her clay,
J5y future ages shall be sung.
n '.' i '. t 'i ''"'
IVatusard the course nf empire takes its way,
The four first acts alresdy past
I i A fifth shall close the drama with the duy,
, ; Time's noblest offspring is the last.
".vtwrd the ttar of empire," &. This
error is almost ahmys perpetrated by writers fi r
the periodicals ol the day. It i lime it was ar
rested. 1 -SM-lZg-'
Random Shots-No. 8-
BV NONDESCRIPT.
American and English Authors,
A Natiok does not attain an eminence in lit
rature in a day. Centuries are required to per
fect and polish a language, and until it reaches a
good degree of perfection, its literature must nec
essarily be defective. True, it may boast of ge
nius and Uleut, but the most original thoughts
badly expressed, and the boldest conceptions illy
executed; excite neither enthusiasm nor ad
ministration. There are also other considerations
upon which the literary works of a nation nation
ally depend; viz the genius of its institutions and
the natural disposition of its inhabitants.
There wa a time when an American bonk was
not read, even at home. When transatlantic
criticisms wore the order of the day, and praise
an I cen.ure were awarded upon this side of the
water, upon the dictum uf an english reviewer.
This state of things was a disgrace to the country
.,t rduiltv the evil hi amended. And why
should it not What has been produced in the
old world whose parallel or superior h not flour
ished her-? In arms can any bear a comparison
with a Washinstnn or a Jackson 1 In eloquence
with a Patrick Henry In science with Frank
lin In statesmanship with a Jeffersan ? In law,
Medicine, theology and literature, the names of
oar distinguished mn are legion.
In poetry it muj.t be confsssed, that, while we
can boast some of the sweetest and mo.t classical
productions in the lantfuige, England has as yet
ftroutstrippelus. Wi certainly have no emi
nently great Poets. The time for this mit come
yet. In every other department we equal or ex
cel. Under the head of poetry the drama is of
course included. A great Author i not so par
tienlarly the property of any one nation as of the
world. Homer belong not to Greece, his fame
extends far beyond her narrow hntinrfiuics.spreads
over every clime and will decern! to latest posteri
ty. Horace prophesies the same of himself. Milton
and Shakspear and Byron will be at home where
ever the Eislish lanjuage is spoken and read.
' The mania for English Hooks and Authors con
tinued, notwithstanding the Giant strides of our
own literature; until the notorious Charles Dick
ons, better knowu as "Bm," mvA.e his long to-be-remembered
avatar n the shores nf this continent.
Everv body wis crm. Dickens was toasted and
.dinnered and suppered and fondled like a little
lap doi. as he finally proved himself to be. Ha
Vint failed in his mis-lon to the United Slates, he
j a .nmited uwm s a most infa-
jurneo r""" - ...
rooos lible; pourin? ot his .pleen and malice .
n, those wVi had paid him that re.pert and at
ention. which he showed by this course, he did
iot merit or deserve.
This last ose, thank Od '. erd lor all time to
,,0m.,theieklTnMient, of all favored British
-a '.t.a r.Am tm iftner and
'writers. The naiion ipsrou
' 4h dinners and suoper, eaten with Dickens,
V;d upon the stomach, of the Partakers. While
one wm.U ohjeet to carrying ot ft letter and
Spirit of the motto honor to whom honn, eve
r; rihf minded man acknowledees the fallacy o
, h do-trine, "the King can do no wrong. I-et
f fpeet he paid to mVl. wherever found, in pro
portion to its der... fnr no one man ve, e.tab
n'li.hesthelifrsreofaovennfrv. mate , few remuk. on the sol.jee. of hanker-,-.te,
every thing foreign in the first No. ol
.ht articles, under the head of "T.tles in A
i meriet" prminc to .av more at some other time.
Teshow how effectn.lW P.rkenseureo up our ,,.v
. i.. -........ a r.mtrV. that the ad
rtte, M is oniv rrr - - - -
D'Urssli nl Lover, buth of them
BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA CO., SATURDAY, ARPIL 7, 1849.
distinguished in the Republic of letters, have been
travelling through the United States and they buy
their own dinners and snpifers.
They receive the respect and consideration due
them, ss men know in the paths ol literature, but
man worship is dispensed with. Every nation
owes, and should pay a sufficient regard to the
learned, laU-nted and scientific men of anotrier.
It is an incentive, an inducement that no man
will disregard. Man owes much to society, but
in return it ahonld be remembered, that society
owes, also, much to man. The obligation is not
all on one side by any mesns. It' a general owes
much to his soldiers they are alio bound to him.
The time for discarding an American Book has
passed. It will be some time yet, however be
fore a very great literary effort will be made here,
fur this country is got up upon the go-a-head prin
ciple. All are well informed but none are super
etninet. THE MANIAC CLOWX.
A TURILLISO SKETCH BY J. H. DROWN.
The followin? narrative, with scarcely
tiny alteration, is true. Ihe particulars
thrilling as they are, were taken from tho
moulh of the unfortuntunatc creature, du
ring one of the lucid intervals, between his
bowl of madness, while confined ia the
mad-house of P , England, and may be
remembered as being noticed by journals
of the time ; the notes were laid aside,
but not forgotten, and the author had but
waited an opportunity to place them n
this manner before the readers of this
sheet.
e
"And here," said the keeper, as he
came to 13, from wVncc came low moan
ing, "hero we have a strange prisones, from
whom you may gather a tale worthy of
note and surpassing any you have taken,
if we can but find him quiet, as he is at
times : a strange story is his, and he is one
of the most savage and raving prisoners
wc have, at times.
So laying, lie unlocked the door, rter
having looking thro' at the grate, and we
entered ; crouched down upon his iron and
immovable stool in the corner, with his face
buried in his hands, hair long, black and
matted, his dress fanUstical and strange
being but the attire, torn in various places,
of a ring mimic was a man who moved
not at our entrance ; he was, like all we had
seen, chained by the wrists to the floor, rt-
ndcring it impossible for hiro to move more
than was required, in sitting -or lying upon
the coarse nea ocsiae nun. noming -
caped him save a low moan, which at times ;
he sent-forth, and shaking his head, buried j
it still deeper in his hands; the keeper j
satd in tins manner he Had passed wnoic ,
day 8, and then he was most peaceable, and
less violent.
Touching him with the end of the slick
he carried in his hand, he said, "look up."
And the miserable being turned up his
hazard face to our view.
OS
"Why do you come here again T" said
he, sadly "to make a show of me ?
You tell me, and those who come to look
at me, that I am mad ! d you not fear
me ! ay I strong man do ye not four me,
weak creature that I am ? yes, and so you
chain my arms and hands and feet so, that . r u!(hed to it and blessed baven fr
I cannot lift them up. but look ye, there is j it3 kindness. But no; poor, broken
one thing you cannot chain ! -one thinjr jown a miserable, wretched man no
you cannot manacle, and if you could, 1
would bear all the chains that could be
heaped upon mc memory! chain that!
keep thahdrend from before me let it not
haunt me day and night let me hear the
voice that rings forever in iny ear and you
may chain and load me down, and I will
thank you for it."
And he dropped his head, and buried
his face once more in his hands.
"He has not been so rational for many
a day," said the keeper, "for which I am
thankful, for he is like a lion when the fit
is on him and '
"Ha ! ha ! ha ! shouted the madman, rais
ing and flinging his arms as high about him
as his manacles allowed "hat ha! ha!
I am with you once again ! come, is all
ready ! who goes on first? why do you
stare so wildly at me J come, I am merry
and shall make them all laugh out to-night ?
ha ! ha ? ha ! and his pale face was lit up
with a wild, demonical e xpression. Soon
he spoke again
"Where, Mary, not rome yet? Strange,
it's time long past the time and she knew
well that she should be here early. Why
gaie on me ? she U not n", no, nothing
,has happened tell me, is she safe, is my
dear child safe 1 Oh, God, I remember,
Mary is dead dead. Ha ! ha I ha !"
And, with loud shrieks he dashed his
hands to his forehead.
Soon he sat down again upon hit low
iron stool dejectedly, and spoke not j then
looking up again, he gazed round, and up
on the keeper and myself, who stood by
the door, beyond his reach,
Uome near me,' said he, beckoning
'Come nearer ; no, not you, I fear you,'
and he shuddered as the keeper stepped
towards him 'I fear you, for your eye;
strikes a terror to my heart, and that, and
the form of my child before me ever, is all
I dread ! Come, and I will tell you of my
child my little Mary, my own pet child
I'll tell you how she died.'
Not daring to trust myself within his
reach, I stepped as near to him as possi
ble, so that he could not reach me ; he bent
forward, and placed his head upon his
hand, and with a sudden tremor and wildly
glaring eye, he began :
Once, I know not when, but I could
count by days, 1 knew the night, tell
the bright sun and the clear moon and
stars, but now all are the same to me.
Days I know none, and nights linger round
me ever; well, long, long ago, ere 1 came
to this dull gloomy place, I was out among
men ; drank, cat, cried, laughed like men,
ay, and that too merrily, for I was jester in
the ring, made the crowd, tho heartless
rabble, laugh and raised a merry noise, no
matter whether my heart was sick or gay,
but I was glad some times to see the Ions
tiers, the closely packed boxes, and the
stalls, each one with smiles, to hear the
loud laugh, the merry words, and knew
that had caused it all to hear their hur
rahs, to see them wave their hats and hund-
keift when with a shrill whoop. I jumped
int0 therinR.That would cheer me some-
tjmeg w)l(.n my hear, beUpd lhe alIh upon
my face lhe je'st ,0 which my tongue gave
uUpriUlcei
. untij n)V wife
j my own MarV( died . she 'whom
bved ?Q fomly anJ'true( i Uid t0 slc(!IJ
i jn the co)J damp earlh . nQ QM oouJ lme
j thoBj?ht that I( the JMlert the clowf l)e
j oM ww inaJe thm laugh couJ wup ?
:I;utoh, how ,nany hourJ j ,me pM;ed
beside that lonely grave; ray Mary! she
had lov( me HS few womun I)VC) she iad
lrQ(lon jn lhe game rough roaJ) Wan;ing
bcide me in my troubles? and sorrows, ahar-
what j cnjoyet! or suffered without a
murmer : and when I knew she was dead,
it Fcemed as if my time on earth was over,
and the same grave dug for her should take
me in also. But she hud left me one over
whom I must watch with anxiousncss, and
love if possible, more than heretofore, my
little daughter, the image of her mother, ray
own little pet, Mary.
'I struggled with the deep, the bitter
curso of poverty. Could I have gained a
livelihood by toil, incessant hardship and
j ,,ndur;mce, elsewhere, gladly wou Id I have
profession, no business, Have the one 1 fol
lowed. I was still forced to drag on in the
arena, where my wants allowed but a very
j ?10rt 8Canty respite upon my wile's
ileal Va j ii(jiii:u iui mure ; anu iuiu
But what cared the crowd ? the churn i them that I could not live with what I had.
should not be sad, no no, impossible for, Hu'' a' they answered that my requs'
the ring jester to we:p, it was a thing ; could not be complied with, said they
unheared of, and would have raised a louJ. ; would retain me paying me what I was
fr laugh than any of my liveliest sallies. ! then receiving nr that I might go, for
And so with a heart overhurthened, sick . though I was a favorite, I w.is grown weak,
and faint, I was foced to laugh and make ' and old and many a younger one was
merrv. j waiting for the chance and situation I then
'Oil, what a pleasure and a joy to me ' held,
was little Mary ! how her sweet artless "I demurred, but it was of no avail
smiles lit up the gloom w ithin ray breast , pleaded poverty, but it was of no help, and
how her merry laugh made me feel 1 1 was turning to leavp when once again the
young and happy for the time, and with manager spoke to me
what fondness, strange, ay, mad devotion "If you arc poor and wanting as you sn v
did I hang upon every word, tone, look
j of hers ! She grew,
and was beautiful
indeed.
How many hours when the toil of my
profession was over for the night, did I sit
benide her little cot, and pare upon her s
she lay sleeping before me ! often, very of -
ten, with a smile playing upon her lovely
f-rf, tellir.gthat hr dreams were sweet
and plesssnt, and mak me v-n smile
myself as 1 looked upon her, and wished
that I was as young and innocent, as
she was.
"And then what horrid horrid thoughts
cinie crowing in upon my feverish brain.
Ah, how I'd struggle and fight with them,
and I would weep and moan aloud.
For, oh ! I thought yes tho thought
would come, what if death should rob me
of her her, my Mary all, all I loved on
the wide earth she in whom were cen
tered all my axections, the only one induc
ing me to still dragon my weary lifct what
j if Uic cold, strong, sure arm of death should
smite her down in all her purity and love
liness ? True, she would die, would die
some time, as did her mother, as must nil
of us, but should that moment be while I
remained on earth ? Oh, how I prayed to
God to arrest death's dart till I was in the
skies.
Yes, will you believe it, the clown
mark me the clown prayed! The one
who, in fanciful attire, leaped and rode,
joking merry in the ring he, the one
who wept beside the gravo of his dear wife,
prayed beside the little cot of his sweet
child -he prayed for her I
And then again another and more dread
ful vision came to me ! to which she thought
of death was nothing : shold she die,
growing more beautiful and lovely every
hour should she still continue tl e object
of my entire thought and fall to sin ! oh,
God ! the thought was sickening, then how
I bent down and prayed then how I trcm
bled for the fato of my dear child.
'London's no place for a young, moth
erless and beautiful girl : for temptation and
every allurement to nin aud iee existed
upon each turn : and should she fall !
Would that ere that moment I could see
her a corpse before me !
Well, as I'd set, and gaz and muse on
all of this, as my thick coming t";iiicits pas.
sed before me.sotnclimes she would awake
at first she was surprised to find me there
in tears, and tought to know the cause;
and then bhe would say, 'dear father, do go
to rest, foryourown little Mry asks you ;
then I'd kiss, and bid hergood night, wish
ing her pleasant dreams, and leave her till
I thought she was asleep again, and then go
softly creeping back again to watch till
morning.
'Each day, each moment, fonnd me
grawing weaker and weaker. And as the
grew more and more fair and beautiful, the
more I failed in strength and every thing,
but love for her, no abatement could there
be in that while tho life-blood couryed
through my veins.
"Sometimes I took her to her mother's
grave, where she was always sure to bring
some simple (lower, and I would tell her of
the one who laid beneath, so good, so
gentle and so kind, telling her thatsho must
try and be like her : ami then she'd ask
me many artless questions, if ho was in
Heaven then, and if she loved me as tend
erly as did she. and then snelt the only
! word upon the head stone, simply 'Mary,
j she said, ' why that is my name too !
'My salary became inadequate to my
' wants, I pinched myself sadly to allow my
J daughter education, and enable her to dress
I prettily, and that she might not suffer for a
! thin
I .. . l ...l.i
I csn name a way by which you can get
i money.
j 'Name it.' eagerly cried I.
, 'Your daughter, she is young and hand-
( some she-
' 'What mean you by thes words,'
' shouted I as I stood panting before him
j 'Why not train her for the arena ?"
i "HornM- idea ! I'mi my lit'le Mary
, for th srfiia?' No, no I could not think
of such a thing. I could not find it in my
heart to bring that dear, one, pure a she
was, untouched, unsullied yet by sin, into
the midst of tho many low vilo creatures
hanging round such a pUce. No, no, the
ihought was agony.
So I toiled on. harder aud harder still
than ever , little did those who laughed so
loudly, so lengthily, and so heartily, think
the heart of him who caused him bo to do
was sadly beating, while he sang the mer
ry song, or danced and caperod, telling his
curious jokes, and talking out so loud him
self, ah no. At length nature could sup
port it no longer. 1 grew sick, and was
scarcely able to go through my perform
ance : and the words of the manager re
curring to ms again, there was no allerna
live, 1 was forced to bring her to the house.
'And that hour when first she stepped
therein I curse, ay curse it from my heart!"
And here the poor maniac, so rational,
and for such a length of time, covered his
face with his hands, and swaying his body
lo and fro, uttered loud curses and cries.
Upon this I feared that the remainder of
his story wasjost, and waited long for his
paroxysm to cease, by degrecss his voice
subsided, and he commenced again.
She murmered not she said she was
glad she could be earning something to as
sist me in our poverty, and she would try
her best to learn and please, poor child,poor
Mary !
" Weeks weeks, and many too we
practised. Every day for hours, and she
would not say that she was tired, no com
plaint not one, and she learned too, rapid
ly. ' How I watched her then ! all day, all
night not a moment could my eyes be from
her. After hours and hours of training and
toil she was prepared for debut.
The day preceding the night was sad
enough for mc. We went together to her
mother's grave, and sat an honr or two : I
told her that she was soon to come before
the world, that she would be surrounded
by sin, misery and temptation, but ever to
cherish the memory of, that mother dead,
who when living was free from taint and
peerless as driven snow. She was so
young, she could not understand me fully,
but said, sweet child, that she would go to
Heaven to meet her thereand if she would
she must be good to do so.
'The night arrived portentous night;
and with a sadly beating heart 1 put on
in v customary habiliments. Mary was
lo appear in two performances, the first
alone, the second in conjunctiou with the
best performer in the arena and sweetly
did she look when all attired for her first
appearance. Never had she looked so
beautiful, with her littlo spangled frock
and tights, so like a sylph, so pure, so in
nocent. Again and uguin I kissed her, and
bid her fear not.
' The house, long before the advertised
time for the raising of the curtain, was
densely parked, for the announcement of
the first appearance in public of the daugh
ter of had long been underlined,
and had been heralded forth in glowing
words for several days. Yes, men came
to look upon the one whom poverty had
compelled to appear, whom want had
drove from her peaceful home, and to laugh
at the jests of her sad hearted father.
And they would not look in vain, for
at rehersal the manager, struck with her
beauty and daring courage, with' her skill
on horseback, irude me liberal offers for
her services, which poverty of course
made me accept. It is not often managers
applaud their hirelings.
' Tier above tier they rose and when,
as the curtain rose op on high, and with a
shriek and merry 'here 1 am,' I jumped in
to the ring, deafening plaudits made all echo
again.
I know not how I acted, what I snid,
but from time to time I heard the shout;
mv thoughts were upon my child, and
when the moment came for her to appear,
and I led her by her littlo hand to make
her how, feelings of pride mingled with j
my sadness, for it was Mary, my child,
for whom they shouted, unto whom they
rose, to whom every eye was turned.
But oh ! what a moment for me : With
j lightness of air sir suited tT the saddle,
' VOLrSTNUMnEIl 3.
a crack from the master' whip, and round
went the noble steed like lightning, round!
the arena it seemed to me is if it were
not half so long, then how they applauded I
My eyes followed her ss she went round,
my heart knocked against my bosom, at
each beat, and when fche etopptd for rest I
could not speak. It was will for rao that
they saw it not; they were waging hand
kerchiefs and sending flowers to Lerlroia
every portion of the place.
' It was a triumph. I was wild, franti :
with joy, fear, and weaknes! Sweetly,
and with grace she smiled and waved her '
tiny arms and hands, as the foaming steed
walked slowly around to let her breathe,
and give her rest.
Off again, performing more difficult
feats than before, and with the same eas
and grace. One could not have told, to
have looked on, that she had not done lh
same thing months and months before, to
easy, no effort, so coolly, no embarrass
ment j it was through I breathed again.
' But no she must come before them :
and I led her out again. I need not toll
how they shouted, what they did : you d
say my brain was turned with love for
my dear child, and would not think I told
the truth.
And now, one more appearance and
the last that night. On sho came, borno
by the best performer in the arena, the
favorite of the place : with what ease and
grace he held her upon high, how smart
ly slie looked, away up there, all tinsel
and spangles, glittering so finely in the
gaslight: and he like Hercules beside of
her, urging the steed onwards to its utmost
powers.
' The most intripid riders aro carriad
the swiftest to enable them to sustain their
balance, and he was famous for the swift
ness of his riding, it seemed as if his steed
flew. No word came from my lips, though
I was in the (rena.all the time. I was not
thinking where I was, or what 1 wasdoiiuj,
all 1 thought of was my child.
' High in the air ho threw her, catching
her so easily, as if 'twas play, and she,
clapping her little hands, no fear had she.
How they applauded ! her triumph was
complete.
' Each moment brought the performance
nearer to a close, and how I wished it
through. Bui no, his steed fearing tho
whip, trained to exerting all his powers,
when his rider was upon his back, kept
on this lightning course, and, oh God ! in
one unlucky feat, he missed her, I saw
her full, the horse reared, and down came
his heavy hoofs upon my Mary.
' I cannot tell you what followed, I saw
them rise round on every side, there wero
cries, but I know that piercing shrieks
drowned them, I saw blood, red blood up
on my dear child's face. I had sprung to
her ere the horse had hardly moved, and
seized her from beneath his feet, and all
connected with the place rushed to my
side.
'But she.tho beautiful, the idol of my lift
and hope, a moment before so full of joy, I
had clasped unto my heart a corpse.
' Ah ! she was dead ! dead like her
mother Mary, dead like every thing to me
that should be full of life! dead, and Hiv
ed !
I know no more, no more,' said tho
poor maniac, as he wiped his dry eyes, as
if there had been enough to dash away.
' I could have wept once, but now my
eves are dry. and I've no tears to shed.
Men tell me that she lies beside her moth
er's grave, and that for many honrs they
could not seperate us, but I remember
nothing of it, and am sure it was not so.
But they brought me here to this dark
place, and shut out the bright light, and
will not let me listen to the songs of birds,
or smell the fragrance of the floweis, they
chain me down, ay ! load me with double
manacles as these, when they havo barred
the door, ay ! they cannot close them lo
mv Mary. 1 see her now. tww with the
red blood streaming down her pale face,
don't let me se it -away sway !"
And with a tear of real pity and after
obtaining the locution of thp two graves. I
turned from him, and the massive dooit
were again c)osed and baned upon ib
Mamsc CtOVK.