The Texan Mercury. (Seguin, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 5, Ed. 1 Saturday, October 15, 1853 Page: 1 of 4

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AND PROPRIETOR.
SEGUI!, GUADALUPE COUNTY, OCTOBER 15, 18o3.
* 7 t '
OLUMJá OXE^XCMBJ
.MAD. MEN.
i •, reports of the
£Kp
pro-
of funeral
plodding pas-
t awfety and grie£«id
Off waiting ¡«mí
hud slowly 'swept the
wealthy, nodding with
„ the hears*
preceded by
of death.
mtm
babes will sleep not the less soundly from the
unwonted contact! v
The fumes rise up in deathly exhalations from
the accumulating hecatombs of fast-coming
Men wear at their noses bags of cam-
torous spicks—for there are crowds
the/e who have no business there but fo look on
"tend contemplate the vast congregation of the
dead. They don't care if the/ die themselves—
they have become so used to the reck of corrup-
'rtiey even laugh at the riotings of the
l&ebton Death, and crack jokes in the horrid
where scarcely they can draw breath
for utterance.
The stoical nqjroes too, who are hired at five
dollars per hour to assist in the work of inter-
■ment, stagger under the stifling fumes, and can
.only be kept at their work by deep and contin-
the* "fire water/' They gulp
draughts of the stimulating Ibid, and reel-
ing to their tasks, hold their noses with one
%al^ wlfife with the other &ey gjasp the spade,
heave on the mould, and rush back to the bottle
to gulp again. It is a jofly time with these
ebon laborers; and with their white co-workers
r thoogltfe88 and as jolly, aqijfall as much i
themselves.
^rhat. witii the;soagtf a*d obé t
Sit*'
-women
the, hoarse Oaths of
the men who drive the dead carts, the merry
the boys, and the stifling reek from
«f
and night drawB
*
Mm-
¡Ü
[to* the
■ m¡
L :-i. *
;y.. m
it+r '
it
V- ' '£■— J
^be-
down to the cracked
and blew there
i new-hatch-
I * -•
i to
m
i*'
■
would swear ahide-
apot, and go on
Now and then the mattock
disturb the bones of some
afjfea mould, fotgotten there amid
ted victims, and the
with a gt>, would hurl \he bro-
te swaru1- gwwl forth an en-
" *" )lis «ceas of glee.
m théir long aepul-
ont
hole,"
Alai, poor Yorick," and
from the digger, of
the soprce of canning
away the dead men.
two, of gigantic propor-
hy corruption to the size of Titans.
their colina left spar
h^Am sn4 heels. Tlis
he filled with earth,
saved? Opportunely
for a cart cranes lumber-
df a mother and her
Chnek the children in the
Md heels of Titans, and lay
oat there alone! A com-
ber anon, and herself and
The thought that knowledge might hive placed hint
On the height of truth sublimé,
Bved in lofty lays,
And a poet's aspiration
.. PSiií :-v, - ... "!■
Like ajljgtaai, trembling river,
To the ear at midnigfet brought,
So hb tide of life, for ever,
Trembles wife the eternal thought*
Like a wailing ghoet, respited,
the mata who can not
many sncít men
¡ > nature, so cold-
' they mar-
A HYMN TO THE NIGHT.
f
BY T. BUCHANAN READ.
Oh Night! most beautiful, most rare! .
Thou givest the heavens their holiest hue;
And through the azure fields of air .
Bringest down the géntle dew! >
Most glorious occupant of heaven.
And fairest of the earth and sea!
The wonders of the sky are given,
Imperial Night, to thee.
For thon, with breathless lips apart,
Didst stand, in that dim age afar,
And hold upon thy trembling heart
Messiah's herald-star!
*
In Olivet thou heard'st Him pray, ,
And wept thy dews in softer light,
And kissed His sacred tears awayl
Thrice-blessed, loving Night!
And thondidst overweigh with sleep
Hie watchers at the sepulchre^
And heard'st the asking Mary weep,
Till Jesus answered her.
For this I love thy hallowed reign!
For more than this thrice-blest thon art!-
' * '-■* ' . .
Thou gain'st the unbeliever's brain
By entering at his heart!
bh Night! most regal Í most divineI
Thon lift'st the spirit from the' dust!
God's best and brightest gifts are tinned
All thine, aid it is just!
'[From E. L. HagOon's Living Orators in America.}
* * * We will here^p^sent some
which will exémplify the Ihree points
above# inti^analyas of l£r. Cor-
win's mind. The Abends in pare wit and
occurs ni the authors vindication of the venerar
ted fiúrmsOn from the - attack of Qeii. Crary,
of Michigan. That gentleman, on, the 14th of
February, 1840, in a debate on the Cumberland
Congress, seized the ocoppsto en-
mankind with his views of General Hár-
deficiencies as a military commander, his
mistakes at^Tippecanoe, ptc., etc. Mr.
replied in a torrent of humor, sarcasm, and ridi-
cule, yrhich completely' overwhelmed' his victim,
and led John Quincy Adams a few days after t#
refer to him as " the lafe Mr. Crary." The fol-
lowing passage wilfgive some idea of the scath-
feg wit which prevails through thf whole speech :
" In all other'countries, and in all fonder times,
a gentleman who would either speak or be list-
ened to on the subject of war, involving subtle
criticisms and strategy, and carefhl rcvie^ of.
marches, sieges, battles, r; ' '■** m J
overshadowing all the field: when, lo-! the leader
of the host approaches!
" Far off his coming shines:"
" His plume which, after the fashion of the
great Bourbon, is of awful length, and reads its
doleful history in the bereaved necks^aud bosoms
of fortv neighboringhen-roosts. Like the great
Suwaroff, he seems somewhat careless in forms
or points of dress; hence his epaulettes may. be
on his shoulders, back, or sides, but still gleam-
ing, gloriously gleaming, in the sun. Mounted,
he is, too, let it not be forgotten. Xeed I de-
scribe to the colonels and generals of this honor-
¿ble House, the steed which heroes bestride on
these occasions? No! I see the memory of
other days is with you. You see before you the
gentleman from Michigan, mounted on his crop-
eared, bushy-tailed mare, the singular obliquity
of whose' hinder limbs is best described by that
most expressive phrase, 'sickle hams'—for
height just fourteen hands, 'all told;' yes, sir:
there you see his ' steed that laughs at the
isnaking of the spear;', tha.t is his war hofte,
'whose neck is clothed with thunder." Mr.
Speaker, we., have glowing descriptions in his-
tory of Alexander the Great and his war-horse
Bucephalus, at the head of the invincible Mace-
donian phalanx; but, sir, such are the imprpve-
ments of modern times that every one must see
that our militia general, with his crop-eared
mare, with bushy-tail and sickle-ham, would to-
tally frighten off a battlefield a hundred Alex-
anders. But, sir, to the history of the parade*
day. The general, thus mounted and * ¡equipped
is in the field, and, ready for action. On the
eve of some desperate enterprise, such as giving
order to shoulder arms# .it may be, there occurs
a crisis, one of those accidents of wag, which no
sagacity could foresee nor prevent. A cloud
rises and passes over the*sun! Here is an occa-
sion for the display of that greatest'of all traits
in the history of a commander—the tact which
enables him to seize upon and turn to good ac-
count unlocked for/jvents as they arise. Now
for the cantioh wherewith the Roman Cabins
foiled the skill and cotrfage of Hannibal! A
retreat is ordered, and troops and general, in a
twinkling, are found safely bivouacked in a
neighboring grocery. But even here the gen-
eral still has room for the execution of heroic
deeds. Hot from the field, and chafed with the
heroic events of the day, your ^pneral unsheathes
his trenchant blade, eighteen inches in length',
as you will rémember, and'with energy and re-
morseless fury he slices the water-melons that
lie in heaps .around him, and shares them wifh
his surviving'friends. Others of the sinews of
vw are not wanting here. > Whisky, Mr.
^fbeaket, that great leveller of' modern times, is
here also, and the shells Of the water-melons
subject. Bat here, sir, no such painful prepara-
tion is required: witness the gcgAUooan from
Michigan! He has announced to the House
that he is a militia general' on the peace estab-
lishment! Thai he is a lawyer we know, toler-
ably well read in Tidd's Practice^ and Aspi-
nasse's Nisi Prius. These studies^so happil;
adapted to. the subject of warj with an appoiqt-
irregular onslaughts, would be required to show,
first, that he had studied much, ^ investigated
fully, and digested tie t^nce and history.of his are filled to the brim. > Here again Mr. Speak-
ment m
militia
with att
vel at, are
myBtenes
aod
(or
you might
have said)
many miles over fields
about* sunrise next morning,
meadow where
the • Fleet Pilch, an
•, snow in Jnly, and
these marréis would
draw from thqm no observation more denoting
agitation that languid, "Dear me!" or a feeble
" How curious!"
If the earth were to stand stifll# and the Sop
to turn green, they would, with a minitte's
to their almanacs, take the ph&om-
With them (he world b a ball
and what there may tie
it, or dnderoeath it, or about it, is no
concern of theirs. In society, they are known
as " people who mind their own business;" and
being rather a numerous class, and comprising
within their ranks many peers, landed prqprie-
tors, bankers and merchants, are highly esteemed
aod respected for their want of enriosity, and
immobility. They make money, and as
for poor people who can be astonished, and
whose as^onification, leading them "from inquiry
to discovery, and thence to the faivention of ma-
chines, to the elucidation of scieatüic truths, and
to the perfection of the arts which adorn and
humanize society—they live up steep flights of
stairs and dont dine every day. — [Dickens'
Household Words.
Thb Memory or the Dead.—It is an exquisite
and beautiful thing in our nature, that when the
heart is touched and softened by gome tranquil
happiness or affectionate feeling, the memory of
the dead comes over it most powerfully and irre-
sistibly. It would seem almost as though our
better thoughts and sympathies were charms,
in virtue of which the soul is enabled to hold
some vague and mysterious intercourse with the
spirits of those whom we loved in life. Alas!
how often and how long may those patient
angels hover around us, watching for the spell
which is so seldom uttered and so soon forgotten.
of peace, furnish
^ecessary to
pon all
-V-
Again,
rae,, that
iare submitted and
d, being all
US^ likothe^ gen-
6f att eonceiva-
any nice
science. I hope
r £*á¡Éf
ímpres-
will not .be all
1 am about to discuss one or the
'^le military qn^tiótts now-before us at
to ánbmít | a remark of two,
by way. of preparing us ^wr a proper apprecia-
tion of the merife of the disburse we have
I tfast as we are Alt tether-officers,
rgentleman from Michigan, and the two.
hundred and forty coliméis Or generals* of this
" will receive what I have to
say ajf coming from an old brOthér in arms, and
addréSsed to them in a spirit of candor,,
"' Such M becometh comrades free,
Reposing after .victory.'
" Sir, we all know the mifitary studies of the
military gentleman from Michigan before he was
promoted. I take jt to be beyond a reasonable
doubt that he had perused with great care the
title-page of ' Barón Steuben.* Nay, I go fur-
ther; as the gentleman has incidentally assured
us that he is prone to look into musty and ne-
glected volumes, I ventnre to assert, without
vouching in the least from personal knowledge,
that he has prosecuted his researches so far as
to be able to know that the rear rank stands
right behind the front. This I think is fairly
inferable from what I understood him to say of
the two lines of encampment at Tippecanoe.
Thus we see, Mr. Speaker, that the gentlemnn
from Michigan, being a militia general, as he
has told us, his brother officers, in that simple
statement has revealed the glorious history of
toils, privations, sacrifices, and bloody scenes,
through which, we know from experience and
observation, a militia officer, in time of peace, is
sure to pass. We all in fancy, now see the gen-
tleman from Michigan in that most dangerous
• * * *
aiuPglorious event in the life of a militia general
on the peace establishment — a parade day!
That day, for which all other days of his life
seem to have been made. We can see the
troops in motion—umbrellas, hoes, and axe han-
dles. and other like deadly implements of war.
er. is shown how the extremes of barbarism and
civilization' meet. As the Scandinavian heroes
of old, after the fatigues of war,1 drank wine,
from the skulls of their slaughtered enemies, in
Odin's ha^ls, so now our militia general and his
forces, from the skulls of the melons thus van-
quished, in copious draughts of whiskey assuage
the herofc fire. Of their souls, after a'parade-day.
But, alas for this short-lived race of ours! all
things will have an end, and so it is ever with
the glorious achievements of our general. Time over the meadow,
is on the wing, and will not stay his flight; the
sun, as if frightened at the mighty events bf the
day, rides down the sky, and at the "close of day,
w,hen the hamlet is stUl," the curtain oí night
drops upon the scene,
"' And Gkjiy, like the phoenix in its fires, '
Exhales^ odors,'biases add expiree.' "
1&''
the following pifty
sayings whkdti we cñp from cm - "
are not worthy of being inscribed ^ in letters of
gold on tables of j^arbie," are at leaát
deserving of a place—rand a prominent one, too
—in every paper in the land:
1. Never mqnire thou of ther "éÉitor for th^
news, for behold it 1b his duty at the appointed
time# to give it unto thee Withoat asking.
2. When thou dost write for . his paper, never
say unto him, " what thmkest thou of my pi^e?"
for it may be that the truth would offend thee. '
3. It is not fit that thou shouldst.ask from
him who is the author of any artiele, for his
duty requires him to keep such things tohimself.
4. When thou dost%ntér into a printing office,
have a care unto thyself, that thou dost not
touch a type; for thou mayst cause the printer
much trouble.
5. Look not thou at the copy which is in the
hands of compositor's, for that is " meet" in the
sight of the printers. 1
6. Neither examine the proof-sheet; for it is
not ready to meet the eye, that thou insiyst
understand it.
Í. Nor shall thou,—if pretending to be a civil
man,—exercise thy voice in loud talking, when
the printer's business requires silence: even an
uninvited visitor he may, peradventure, bless.
8. Prefer thy own village newspaper to any,
other—subscribe immediately and pay for it in
advance, and it shall be well with thee and thy
little ones. .
1
Criticism ok Gibbon.—A g^eat admirer of
Gibbon was commending his style to a person in
very higli teriu3. The professor listened to him
with a sneer of disapprobation, but for some
time said nothing, On being pressed for his
opinion," "tiibbon," : aid he, " is too uniform; he
writes in the same flowery and pompous style
on every subject, lie is like Christie, the auction-
eer, who says as much in praise of a ribbon as
of a Raphael."
The phrase " old man eloquent," usually ap-
plied to John Quincy Adams during his lifetime,
was first used by Milton, .in one if his sonnets.
It rnns as follows:
TO TI'K '¡.ADY MAllGAEET LEY.
Daughter to that good earl, once president
Of England?s council and her treasury,
Who lived in both, unstained with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself dmtent,
Till sad the breaking of that parliament .'
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chseronea, fatal to Liberty,
Killed with report that old man eloquent.
Though later bom than to have known the days
Wherein your father-flourish'd, yet by vou,
Madam, methinks I see him living yet;
' So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both jndge yon to relate them true,
I \
And to possess them, honor'd Margaret.
The old man eloquent referred to, was the
orator Isobrates, who was so overcome by thd
fatal news of the defeat ,of the Greek allies at
Chaeronea, that he fell dead.
, 'A correspondent sends us the following anec-
dote, which he says he received while on a visit
to a venerable aunt>, a few weeks previous to his
marriage. The old lady, after congratulating
him on the relation he was about to msnwiB
added, " I never hear of an intended marriage
but I am reminded of a fable my mother and
to relate when I was a mere child,' just experi-
encing what is called the romance of love." As
is certainly out of print, if not out of mind, the J
readers of'the Dollar Newspaper may possibl
be entertained, if nqt instructed, by its recital;
The Greatest Evil Among Men.—The devil,
took it into his head one day that he would come
up to earth, for the purpose of
greatest evil ambng men,
until he t should make the diséoveiy^,
end he disguised himself as a dashin
man, and sallied forth, "ihat js," «aid she, " a
man of the world, in the style of those days ;
sans moustache, sans Cologne, and
modern fixins." He had not beent la
us, scarcely long enough, as my aunt
it, "to measure a
became enamored of a beautiful young
he soon took to wife.
having all that heart could wish,.!
theless, unhappy; his mind waa
over, Ms wife though handsome
as wife tiould be, was poor,
who spent most of theif time at tí
maásionf feast ing and riding, and ixytk
at hiá expense. He
against such a tax, but fea< no
that he was áfráid of
but because
influence on soc
Starting' in the
' 1 II , I > 11 ,11 IBB
Proceeds Toward Perfectio:
sum, at ouce, of htiman duty,
felicity. Uuhapjrtjv it is not
regarded. Many are eonteai
noble iut'di(M-iity. There i* a
much moi'e < f a couleuted anti
blé virtue, (ban of insatiable
tion after excellence. • How
to be as good as, others, to
medium of reputable
the majority, that potent J
munity, and seek only such
ality as may secure entrance i
here and hereafter, Such
prehended the great design of
regard tel. them,' and His rai
tions will remain a sealed book to
they perceive that continua)
perfection is the noble duty,; pi
and destiny intended for His; ~
they porsue this as t&eig
Perfection, It
clattes all
-v • •.
<msome
or to hope
componnd
doing.
osity wül not a:
ity, or '
nial with our
m*
sion to hiele in
he"i
W,
r".^? m.ji
v"
*jgr^ m? -vi «
%w<- h*~.
' éi&* 5 ''i
' • ,ír' ^' "*
zkKsém#.?*&x-
hapse from
dread of
Now, it so ;happened,
was ill
skiU of
kin^, as
sum to any one iho-
life.: Of this íact thfr
and placing in the farmer's
be said,
to her wonted health, he
hay-stack. , ' ,t
When the devil's wife lad
former, if her "liege lord" %ad
and had onward strode |n
fugitive rolled out from his
again breathed the foe air.
the fanner, he said, " A condition ia
with the eharm which I have given
omitted to mention:, it Bfast not be
second occasion; this - iajanction
altered; its violatioa will «Aject.yi to the loss
of your farm, stock,- and all yo*poásesB/iá the
world." íí-H.
* wq
Some years after, the Grand-
became alarmingly ill of a stubborn
which resisted all known treatment, and < 1
fanner was sought in her behalf. . At first hé tetruction by
declined attendance, declaring that he could do
nothing—that although he had fhe remedy, it
had lost its virtue—but finally yielded to the
temptation of a large reward, wtóch the Grand
Duke promised, in case his daughter shonld
recover. As a matter of cOJjrse, the lady recOv-
I
" Adieu! mother >
" Adieu! my sou,"
The fellow went on his
ears.
recuYcr, as u luutici m iiiu iauj iuw*" r .
ered, and on his return home with the
bag of I woman, in an "English <
gold in his hand, the farmer infet the devil, who
authoritatively addressed him:—"Did X not tell
yon that the charm was not to be used a second
time? Have you forgotten the. penalty of viola-
ting the injunction—the forfeiture of all you
possess?" The farmer looke J up the road and
down the road; he stood on tiptoe, straining his
eyes as jf seeking something in the distance.
" What are you looking at?" asked the devil.
Coolly, and without the least emotion of sur-
prise, the farmer exclaimed, with his finger
pointing up the road, " Here comes your wife
and all of her relations," and turning to the
devil's rejoinder, saw nothing but a big hole in Nothing
the gronnd. brow and untrembling lip.
be the
I
"Once npon a time," a
Dr. Dick says, that
world, that about f
beings have
which man has
Oarearneati
that the speaker is
.. , -v-