The Texas Ranger, and Brazos Guard. (Washington, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 1, Ed. 1 Tuesday, January 16, 1849 Page: 4 of 4
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Texas Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the The Dolph Briscoe Center for American History.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
w>
>
(Ll)c £cxas Hanger, £ Brazos 0anrír.
L
IJoetrg.
From the Western T<r¡an.
rjp There is, we conccive. it peculiar fitness
in piiliivliiiig tbi' two following pieces of poetry
l^jr^lliT, referring, a." they do, to two of the most
(ti-tin?nblied patriots of the rl exian revolution.
The first, on the lamented Milam, we believe,
was written bv the late \Y illiam IÍ. ^ liaxton,
f*te of the earHe^t and most ardent actors in
the Mar of Independence with Mexico, who
ww*, perhaps, one of the pufe*-t, most chival-
rous and high-minded patriots that participated
in our early straggle*. The last, e n the heroic
and daring Walker, wa- composed by one
who is proud of the name of 1 exian, soon ni-
ter the death of that gallant, but unfortunate
officer, at lluamantla ;—it was lirst published
in the " North American," Jit the city of Mex-
ico. The Writ'T of it, too, has also " doue the
fútate some service ' in the " tented field, oil
more occasions than one—lie was in the cele-
brated Cherokee fight, in 1S38, v hen the fam-
ous chief, Bowles, was slain, and his party de-
feated, was afterwards with the ill-fated Hnnta
Fe Expedition, and more recently participated
in the war with Mexico.
The mortal remains of !*>th the distinguish-
ed patriot soldiers, in praise of w hose deeds the
]k>ets write, have at length found a signal re.< t-
iriir place within the limits of our ancient and
war-worn city—the first at no «Treat distance
from the spot where lie poured out his life-
blood in the cause of freedom—and the latter
vi poses almost within the shade of the blood-
stained walls of the Alamo.
Milam.
"To Col. Benjamin R. Milam, belongs, as
commander, the deathless renown <>f that he-
roic exploit—the storming and conquest of San
Antonio. For five successive days and nights
did he unceasingly grabble with the enemy; hi-
own life was the price of the triumph, and he
was destined, like Wolfe and Pike, to sleep
the sleep of death in the arms of victory." As
long as unimpeached integrity, uncompromis-
ing patriotism, and undaunted valor, are es-
teemed among mankind, so long will his name
l e fresh and sacred in the memory of every
friend of virtue and freedom.
"Oft shall the soldier think of thee,
Thou dauntless leader of the brave,
Who on the heights of tyranny
Won freedom! and a glorious grave.
And o'er thy tomb shall pilgrims weep,
And pray to heaven in murmurs low,
That peaceful he the hero's sleep
Who conquered ¡San Antonio.
Enshrined on honor's deathless scroll,
A nation's thanks will tell thy fame;
Long as her Iwauteons rivers roll,
Shall freedom's votaries hymn thy name.
For bravest of the Texan clime,
Who fought to make her children free,
W as Milam! and his death sublime,
Liuk'd will! undying liberty.
Walker.
At the action of Huamantla, in the month
of October, 1817, when the body of S. H.
AValker was carried within the enclosure
where his company was statoincd, it was sin-
gular to note the effect which their gallant
commander created upon his men. They
stood around him, all with full hearts and moist
eyes, gazing sorrowfully down upon liis ex-
tended body—then suddently, as though the
same electric impulse had communicated itself
instantaneously to all—each man sprung from
his lethargy of grief, grasped his carbine, rush-
ed to his horse, and the cry was "Let us on!"
Ayel gaze upon him—there he lies
In hushed and still repose;
And heavily above his eyes
The leaden eyelids close:
A fearful calmness dwells upon
That Bleeper's marble brow;
And friendship's voice and love's kind tone
May not awake him now.
Trend sternly! 'tis a vengeful watch
Ye keep beside his rest;
And weep, for manly feelings thus
Are moved within the breast.
Weep for a noble spirit passed
From that pale form of clay,
Weep, comrades, for the brave strong soul
That took its flight to day.
Short space has fled since when he rode
With sabre in his hand,
«With cheerful smile aud ringing shout,
As leader of our band,
The light of hope was 011 his cheek,
Of triumph in his eye;
The bullet's work is done—and now
A stiffened corse he lies.
- Spring to your saddles—grasp your sword!
A patriot's form lies there—
This is the hour for deeds, not words,
For battle, not for prayer.
Let the pole woman weep her woe—
Let children sob for grief;
Nought hut the life blood of the foe
Can give our hearts relief.
"" t** f' ,
But no! 'tis past, the storm has sped,
■ saber's sweep;
'the noble dead,
while others weep.
we that in after years,
to the fray,
his name with bood, not
' of this day.
tears,
rages high,
the air.
charging cry
n
Col
party,
Return of Col. Hays.
Hays, accompanied by a portion of his
■•■ached San Antonio on the Oth inst,
after an absence of one hundred and seven
days. The expedition lias fully attained its
object—tl e discovery of a good and accessible
rout© to Presidio del Norte, which will con-
nect this State with Chihuahua. The party-
were delayed, principally 011 account of the
guides not being thoroughly acquainted with
the route.
The following report, published in the Tex-
irm, made by Col. Ilays to Col. P. II. Bell,
gives an interesting account of the expe-
dition:—[Crill ccstnn 1Vcir.*.
REPORT.
Col. Bell,
Sir:—T had the liojor to conduct an Ex-
pedition, fitted out by the citizens of San An-
tonio, to ascertain a practicable route for wag-
ons, from this point to Chihuahua, via. the
Paso del Norte. At my request you kindly
furnished us an escort of thirty-five men, and
1 hope it will not be considered improper in
me to report to you something ot our trip.—
AVe left this point 011 the 2?th of August, and
were one hundred and seven days absent. All
have returned well with the exception of three,
and one unfortunate gentleman, Doct. W ahm,
who peri.-hed in the mountains, lie became
insane from starvation, and escaped from us
into the hills where it was impossible to find
him. I shall forbear to mention the incidents
of the journey, and confine myself only to
such things as may be of importance to the
public generally. After arriving at Camp
Llano, it was deemed unadvisable to go by
the way of San Saba at that season of the year,
in consequence of a scarcity of water, and we
consequently changed our direction by the
way of Las Moros, a river heading about west
from this place. V'e ascertained the Llano
to its head, from thence to the head of the
Nueces, and thence to thn head ot the Las
Motos. Under the guidance of some Indians,
we pursued a western course to strike the
Puerco, (as it has heretofore been improperly
called,) we crossed at a distance of six miles
from the Las Moros, a river called Soquete,
and at twelve miles a large stream called the
San Pedro, thence at sixteen miles a river as
large as the San Antonio, called the San Phil-
ipa, and at twenty miles a stream, which the
surveyors had mistaken for the Puerco. This
stream is almost as large as the Colorado, and
owing to the difficulties we had in extricating
ourselves from the deep ravines and moun-
tains which encompass it for many miles from
its mouth, we named it Devil's river. About
twenty-five miles from Devil's river we came
to the Puerco, or properly calling it, Pecos.—
This is a bold, rapid stream, but perhaps not
so large as the Devil's river. Its wa-
ters are muddy and brackish, and from its
mouth for near one hundred miles the face of the
country is if possible more rugged and impass-
able than the last mentioned river. We reach-
ed the Rio Grande, in about twenty-five miles
from the Pecos; this river, as well as the Pe-
cos, can be reached at only a few points,
where Indian trails lead into them. The
whole of this part of the country, from the
mouth of .Peril's river up the Rio O runde, as
far as San Carlos, a town forty miles south of
Presidio del Norte, is one constant succession
of fiigh broken mountains, destitute of timber
and water. Our guide was entirely ignorant
of this part of the country, and in consequence
of his mistakes we were involved in great
trouble, and suffered many hardships. After
having fally proved his incompetence to di-
rect us, we followed our own impressions in
traversing the country.
We went into the Rio Grande upon two
or three large Indian trails in order to get wa-
ter, and left it to find better travelling. On
one of these Indian road we encountered a
small band of Muscalero Indians who directed
us to Presidio del Norte. From the place
where we met these Indians, we went nearly
South West and crossed the Rio Grande thir-
ty-five miles below San Carlos. This is a
small village containing some five hundred
inhabitants, and situated on a creek about ten
miles from the Rio Grande. There ís a good
road from San Carlos to Presidio, ■ forty miles
North. We reported the reason of our cross-
ing the river to the authorities at both places,
that we were compelled by hunger, the strong-
est necessity that men could urge. Presidio
del Norte contains a population of fifteen hun-
dred or two thousand inhabitants, and is sit-
uated at the junction of the Rio Conches
with the Rio Grande. The first named river
is usually called Rio Limpia or Clear River,
and the latter Rio Puerco or Dirty river.—
Both Indians and Mexicans apply the names
Puerco to the upper Rio Grande before it
unites with the Concho, and all call the stream
east of it Pecos. Six miles below Presidio del
Norte, on the American side, a gentleman
named Leaton has established himself and is
engaged in erecting a large fort to protect hiin
from the Indians. We remained with this
gentleman ten days to recruit our horses, and
were furnished by him with supplies to return.
From Presidio we pursued a North-East
course, alougthe foot of tire mountains, find-
ing water in abundance. These mountains
are a part of the Sierre Madre range which
cross the Rio Grande and run out into the
plains forty or fifty miles from it. There is
one easy pass through these with plenty of
water and grass. The disdance from Presidio
del Norte to the Pecos in a direction North of
East is about one hundred and fifty miles; the
whole way is level, aud will afford good trav-
elling at any season of the year. We decend-
ed the Pecos about seventy miles to live Oak
Creek, a small tributary of this river, and from
hence went North-East towards the heads of
the Conchos and San Saba. While on the
Pecos we saw a party of Mexican traders from
San Miguel, who told us that from the head
of this river down it was one great plain, with-
out timber, as it was at that place. We did
Paso del Norte to the Pecos, over a good coun-
try for wagons, from thence to an Indian trail
wliicli lead- to the San Saba, fifty miles, from
thence to Sau Antonio, one hundred and liftv
miles, making in all a distance 01 four hundred
miles. In a direct line it is not three hundred
miles, but this way is over a beautiful and let-
el country, with the exception of a few miles
between San Antonio and Camp Llano. Thefc
will be nothing to detain a wagon on this
route, except in crossing the Pecos, which is
a narrow stream and can be forded except
when high—Although I have not examiiv
the whole way to the Paso del Norte, I
satisfied from authority 011 which I fully re!y
that the road can be constructed without ary
obstruction to that place, by ascending tie
Tecos fifty miles and crossing over to the vd-
ley of the llio Grande. It is one hundred and
fifty miles from Presidio del Norte to Paso dfl
Norte, but by leaving the Pecos at a point ff-
ty miles above the Paso del Norte road, tie
distance will be considerably shortened. A
party leaving at this season of the year frqni
this part of the country, would necessarily suf-
fer from the cold north winds, and would not
find as good grass as would be had at any oth-
er time. But even now I feel confident that
the trip might be made. The distance frj¥!J
.^Matagorda Bay to Paso del Norte'camaot^ttS-
oeefcsix hundred and fifty miles, the way tfie
road will run; and I am fully satisfied it must
be the road to California at all seasons of the
year, having every advantage over the Mis-
souri route either as it regards distance, climate
or country.
Very Respectfully,
JOHN C. HAYS.
To Col. Bell, Comd'g Texas Frontier.
LETTER FROM HON. R. J. WALKER,
ox the
Treatment of Cholera.
of the devil."'
-. Well, if I
not reach the Conchos or San Saba, although
Yre were near enough to see the smokes of In
I be there!
true—
dians encamped on both streams, and which
eoald not have been more than fifteen miles
We were compelled on account of
weak condition of our horses to hunt for
every ten or fifteen miles, and in doing
found ourselves on the day we should
reached the San Saba, some distance
of it. This fact determined the citizens
mpanied me to strike for the Loe Mo-
from thence on to San Antonio. There
from Capt. Highsmith and his
We regretted to leave them in a some-
condition, with but very little
and horses nearly all exhausted.^
when tea'
it would be by
I am satisfied
is perCerable^l
one hundred «od fifty miles from
Washington, D. C. Dec. 5, 1848.
Dear Sir—Your letter of yesterday has been
received referring to the possible approach of
cholera to this country, and requesting a state-
ment of the practice in Mississippi and Lo tup-
ian a under my observation in 1832, which
proved so successful in those States. The
practice to which you refer was that of Dr. A
Cartwright, a most eminent and successful
physician, of Natchez, Miss., and was as fol-
lows : 1. To watch the first symptoms of the
disease and administer the proper remrtüíé
without a moments delay. 2. To administer
forthwith, after the first symptoms, a dose com-
posed of ten grains of camphor, twenty grains
of red pepper, and twenty grains of calomel, to
be taken in powders, if practicable ; if not, in
pills. 3. As soon as the dose was swallowed,
to strip the patient, and rub him gently but
effectually, with some stimulating ointment,
by as many hands as could have convenient
access, the rubbing to be continued so as not
to occasion fatigue until the medicine produced
its proper effect.
The cure was chiefly effected by the opera-
tion of the calomel upon the liver, in changing
the rice water secretions to those usually pro-
duced by calomel, which generally took place,
according to my recollections, in from one to
two hours after the dose was administered
The object of the red pepper was to accelerate
the action of the calomel, as well as to rd-""
the energies of the system. The purpose of
the stimulating ointment was to maintain
at the surface, to arrest the coldness of tl e skin,
which is so marked a symptom of the disease,
to keep up the circulation of the blood, and to
prevent the settling of the blood upon the cen-
tral organs, and its coagulation, causing its re-
semblance to a tarry substance, which is so
marked an accompaniment of the disease
Generally, the calomel, aided and accelerated
in its action by these auxiliaries, produces the
proper effect upon the liver in from one to two
hours, and when this takes place, the cure may
be considered effected. When, however, the
proper action is not produced by this dose in
from one to two hours after it is administered,
another similar dose must be taken, which very
rarely fails to produce the proper effect. This
is the main treatment of the disease, but for the
farther particulars I have written to Dr. Cart-
wright this day. The success of this treat-
ment was seen by myself and many others, and
was most wonderful. Dr. Cartwright is one of
the most able and scientific physicians in the
Union, and, according to my recollection, he
received from his friends near Natchez, a silver
pitcher, as a memorial of his success in this
disease, 011 which, I think, were engraved the
number of cholera cases and the number of
cures by him. The number of deatlis, which I
do not recollect, was remarkably small. I
saw this treatment myself, personally, in se-
veral hundred cases, and administered the
remedy with my own hand.
At the time of the first appearance of the dis-
ease, I was at New Orleans, and, being com-
pelled to stay there a few days, saw the com-
mencement of that terrible epidemic, as also in
the boat ascending the river. The first treat-
ment observed by me was calomel, with opium.
It was uot successful, and, in my opinion, the
practice is injurious. In cases of cholera pa-
tients, the liver must be made to act in the
shtttest possible time, and the rice water se-
must he changed by the action. Jif th&„
calomel. The heat must be maint:
surface, and the settling of the blood
central organs and coagulation must be arrest-
ed, or death is certain.
In cholera, opium, in my judgment and frotfl
my observation, fails to arouso the system, or
to accelerate the action of the calomel. Ou
the contrary, judging from the cases seen by
me, it appears to retard that action. This i?
my opinion, formed from the several cases
which came under my observation, treated ir
this way, and in a large majority of whicl
deaths ensued. I speak, however, here, of mj
own experience, leaving the medical faculty,
who are so much more competent to decide
this question.
As to Dr. Cartwright's treatment, I observed
its effect under the following circumstances i
In 1832 the cholera raged with great mortality
in the low swamp ground of Louisiana, in Nati
chez, where are the great cotton plantation^
It appeared first, I think, upon those of Messrs
Lapice, Davis & Cholard, where there we
probably about six hundred slaves. Ac cor
to my recollection, it appeared next upon
adjacent plantation of a widowed sister
mine, on whose place there were, I
about an hundred and fifty slaves. When th4
disease commenced upon my sister's planta;
tion, I went there myself from Natchez, pre
vailing upon Dr. Cartwright to pass over witlj
me from that city, to give the necessary direc*
tions as to the location of hospitals, and gen
eral directions as to the treatment of all wh#
might be attacked. On that day, shortly be-
fore our arrival, one of the slaves was attackel
with the cholera, and died the day succeeding.
Dr. Cartwright left, after remaining upon thi
place a few hours, leaving me general written,
u well as verbal directions and saying that
he could not return, and that, from the numer- power, with the assistance of
ous calls upon phvsicians, and the locality of ; Far. " I want to know,
the p'ace. it was probable I would be deprived bring the old woman and all thecals
of medical aid for the plantation during the re- j Our friend and the farmer entered
mainder of the cholera epidemic. This proved and it was our misfortune tobe
don't
Is to see it."
our office,
it, but our
to be the case, and during the two weeks which devil secured his name as a subsc&er, and he
succeeded, I remained upon the place night left under the promise of bringing the old wo-
and day, with the aid of 110 other white person 1 man and gals next Saturday.
except the overseer.
The eases of cholera which occurred during
these two weeks, were frequent and violent,
and every one of them was observed by myself.
According to my recollections, eighty-seven
cases of cholera, distinctly marked, occured af-
ter the first death to which I have alluded, and
A Game of Brag. ✓
"Talk about your darned fast lines," said a
Yankee to a Cockney, who was so imprudent
as, in the natural way of his countrymen, to
commence bragging on English railroads, while
it is a concilatory reflection, that there were i llie couple were progressing at the rate of forty
but two deaths out of this great number of m¿Ls au hour lhe Birmingham railway,
cases. The practice pursued bv me, in every ¡ ^ hY> h\s cre roatl >f lm">* or"
one of these cases, was that of Dr. Cartwright, | a™e for England but it won t do or Menky.
as before described. Upon each of the adja- ^ « nde a straddl? of telégrafo there, when
cent plantations of the gentlemen above men- fwe re.in a ]uinT ljUt M ^ieu am.1 Ax e ,:i'vC
tioned, the number of deaths I think was very radroa 111 roa 'a>
great; but these gentlemen are still living and ; ^ * j ^ a> coming from Philadelphia
are of the highest respectability, and could de-!to ^ or^' ^hen ses I to a feller sittin b\ me
scribe this much better than mvself.
JJoctrn.
The death of the overseer 011 one of these |
plantations was one of those cases which seem j
to run their rapid career beyond all human aid, |
and was followed by post mortem convulsions.
I saw also several other cholera cases of slaves
on these adjacent plantations. After the dis-
ease disappeared from my sister's plantation,
where it raged for about two weeks, I returned
to Natchez, where the disease prevailed, but
i\ot to an alarming extent. After observing
several cases there, I was attacked by a mark-
ed case of the disease myself. Dr. Cartwright's
remedy was used, and my recovery was com-
plete in a few days, the doctor giving me his
personal attention; although for many years
afterwards, the cramps, with which I was af-
fected in the left hand recurred, distinctly
marked in the rigidity of the muscles, but not
with pain. %
Upon my recovery, I proceeded from Nat-
chez to my brother's plantation in Lafouche,
La., where the same remedy was applied with
equal success, not only on that place, but on
many others within my personal knowledge.
Such are the facts of the case, and the treat-
ment sent at your request; I never saw a death
except in one case, where the dose first pre-
scribed produced its proper effect upcffi the liver,
and that was from recurring fever, to prevent
which, although a rare occurrence to any great
extent after the first dose produced its full ef-
fect, Dr. Cartwright administered another dose,
of which I am sure calomel and aloes formed
a part, but I do not remember the exact pro-
portion, and I have written to him this day to
Natchez requesting him to send me a full ac-
count. I think I have seen the administration
of these remedies in several hundred cases, and
according to my recollection, the deaths did not
exceed three per cent out of the number at-
tacked. I think in all other treatments the pro-
portion of deaths was far greater.
When I receive Dr. Cartwright's reply to
my letter of this date, I will send you a copy,
and, in the meantime, if the cholera should
make its appearance in our country, I trust it
will not, I should be glad to hear from you.
There are precautionary measures of great im-
portance. Among these are a cheerful tem-
perament, an exemption from all excitement, a
brave heart, resolved to do its duty, and leave
the rest to Providence. Dry, airy, and com-
fortable apartments, elevated above the ground,
with a great regard to coolness, and free use of
proper disinfecting agents; plain nutricious
diet, with less of vegetable food, and entire ab-
stinence from all stimulating drinks, with rest
undisturbed, and above all, the immediate ap-
plication of the remedies, both of friction, and
of medicine, at the very instant of the attack,
are important.
Ever truly your friend,
R. J. WALKER.
'who on airth owns this big garden with white
palins around it ?"
"I don't see no white palins," ses he.
"I don't see notliin' else," ses I, "and a
mighty tall fence it is, too."
" The feller burst out a larfin—" why, you
darned fool," ses he, "them's the telegraphic
posts." And sure enouglt, when the engine
feller stopped, I saw them posts a hundred feet
apart, and we had been goin' so all fired fast
they looked for all the world like white palins."
At this moment the bell rang at a station sig-
nal before the Cockney had fully recovered
from Jonathan's last dose.
" What's that bell ringin' for?" inquired the
latter of his English friend.
"We are approaching D ."
" Well, them kind of bell fixin's does for t hese
ere slow cars, but we can't use them are in
'Meriky."
" Ah, why not V'
" Travel too fast—fact, beat sound all to
smash. We would be smack through a village
before the noise of a clapper was in^tlie neigh-
borhood.
" You don't say!" exclaimed the astonished
Cockney.
"Fact again, by thunder! Why, I was 011
the York cars when them ere steam whistles
was first tried. May be you've heard ol
the terrible accident? No! Well, sir, we
were going it strong. Harrycanes were 110
whar—all natur seemed shakiu' to pieces—
when several miles off something was seed 011
the track. The whistle was let loose, and
she did screem awfully—but it was 110 man-
ner of use, and ofter tumbling over a span of
smart horses, and a big market wagon, I was
just rising from a pond, when along come the
whistle's holler, mixed up with some big curses,
I mind to have heard the engine man rip out
when he first saw the wagon. But the poor
fellow was dead when his voice arrived. Fact
—got the documents."
" Extraordinary!" exclaimed the horror struck
Cockney, " and do you use vistles yet ?"
" Bless yer soul, no. Congress stopped them
rite off, and now we acts 011 the philosophic
principle that light travels an all fired sight
faster than sound, which will do perhaps for
this generation. We now tell 'em we're com-
in' by bustin' out a light that does astonish all
animal creation, and I reckoned rather surprised
the planetary system at first. When it was
first tried at night, the roosters on the road
commenced crowing, and the chickens all got
down from roost thinking it was daylight."
The cars suddenly stopped, when Jonathan,
having arrived at the point of his debarkation,
looked around at the bewildered Cockney, nod-
ded his head, and with a little carpet bag
chucked under one arm, and an umbrella un-
der the other, took his leave, sober asa deacon.
[£p= The De Soto Free Press, published at
Logansport, on the other side of the Sabine,
tells the following yarn on one of our Texan
citizens. It hits off the two general ignorance
in regard to passing events, which prevails in
some of the sparely settled districts, from the
want of newspaper circulation.
[Galveston News.
A Good One.—A few days since, a merchant
of our town, was (after the business of the day
was over,) reclining 011 a goods box in front of
his store, puffing away at his pipe, which was
well charged with extra superior cut and dried
—the smoke escaping from his mouth in pro
fused and beautiful curls ; putting one in mind
of a young steamboat; a good, sturdy, old
fashioned farmer, from the other side of the
river, stepped up and accosted him, somewhat
in the following language.
Far. " Well friend M , what news from
the election."
Mcr. " O, I hear none as yet, we hain't had
time to receive the returns. How did the
election go in your neighborhood ?"
Far. " Well, it was split up, pretty consid-
able, there were so many candidates before the
people, that we hardly knew how to vote."
Mer. " Why, there were only two candid-
ates for President."
Far. " Well I have understood that since I
come to town, but at our boxes we run five or
six."
Mer. " How in the D 1 did that happen,
you must have made some of them yourselves."
" Far. " Know Sir-ee, we didn't; the man
what was in the habit of telling us how to vote
failed to come around this year, and that is the
reason why we were divided in our vote. But
Squire B got hold of a newspaper just be-
fore the Election, and he told us who were the
candidates: but he said he wasn't personally
acquainted with^any of 'em, and we would
have to vote to the best of our own judgment,
so some voted for a man they called Mr. Dem-
ocrat, and some for Lewis Cass, and others
again voted for another Cass, who they called
General, and said as how he was a second
cousin to the other; and I believe a man they
called Rough and Ready got two votes, and
General Taylor got one, and Buena Yista got
four. Them are the candidates names that
Squire B found in his paper."
Mer. " Well, that's a good oné, and I will
treat you if you will tell Mr. January, the edi-
tor of our paper, that tale, just as you have
told it to me."
Far. " With all my heart I will, but you alter we kneel to th<
don't mean to say you have a paper printed in
your town."
Mer. " Yes, certainly we have, and if you
will subscribe for our paper, you will have no
need to wait for any one, to tell you how to
vote : bnt on the contrary you can tell your
neighbors."
ar. " Good, show me the gentleman, what
do you call him, Mr. February."
Mer. " No sir. January."
Far. «'Well, no difference, show me the
Printing Machinery. Does it go by horse pow- poor weakr' humanity, purify itself by tran
The Sabbatli Rest.
Our week of toil has drawn to its close, and
we hail to-morrow's Sabbath dawn, with the
feelings akin to the wearied way-farer who
beholds at a short distance, the hospitable
home that promises a temporary refreshment
and repose after his toilsome journey.
The mind, like the body, needs relaxation
from the cares and troubles of worldly pur-
suits; for, like the bow that is always bent,
it will lose its elasticity, unless it be unstrung.
The chords of the lyre which emit the dulcet
harmony of sweet sounds, when stretchcd
beyond their power, lose their voice and their
sweetness; so it is with the fiiie-strung fac-
ulties of the human mind; while its intellec-
tual capacities are developed and* strengthen-
ed by exercises, there is a point beyond which
it will sink under the weight that oppresses
it; and its energies become exhausted and
wrecked. And what repose or refreshment
more soothing to the wearied mind, tharr ^he
holy rest of the Sabbath bell. Man tliéíi
throws off the load of earthly cares, and on
the morning of this tranquilizing day prepares
his soul to meet its responsibilities in the sa-
cred temple. There, in the holy stillness of
his Maker's presence, lie provides for the spir-
itual wants of the immortal part of his being;
and in secret converse with himself, enters
upon those resolutions which will enable him
to go forth on the morrow to his weekly toil,
a wiser man and a better ehirstian. In this
Setting apart one day of the week for man to
commune with his Creator, we recognise the
infinite wisdom that shines conspicuously in
the grand scheme of the cliristain despensa-
tion. We see how aptly and kindly Provi-
dence has provided all things for the benefit
and happiness of his creatures. And though
the atheist may sneer, and the deist may
laugh at the institutions and practices of Chris-
tianity, yet with all their boasted superiority
of human reason, the proiidest of their phi-
losophers could never give us any system
equal to that sublime one left, us by Christ;
one of whose commands, so congenial to the
best feelings of our nature, was, "keep holy
the Sabbath day." And even they enjoy the
rest and repose of this sacred day, loudly as
they declaim against the divinity of its author,
Beautiful in its holiness, serene in its sa-
cred tranquility, dignified in its religious ob-
servances, and not less cherished for the mem-
ories it brings of our earlier and happier years,
this day comes upon us with a thousand
claimd* for our respect and regard. In what-
ever church we wor%ip, at whatever sacred
Deat Jehovah, may we
all spend it as become National men, who be-
lieve in the pricelesdTboon Christianity has be-
queathed us—stamping upon the youthful
mind, both by pt&cept and example, the com-
mand to "keep tRe Sabbath day holy."
We have been tempted into this moral
strain, not to aj^feme what is the sacred pro-
vince of dthenL the character of preacher, but
to indulge a /¡éw reflections of our own; and
we would let pur pen, so often steeped in
guilt, while; recording the errors and crimes of
Emily!
nv samcel j. riKE.
In tire trances of my slumber,
Tlirongingiy
Goldeu visions without number
Visit me,
Flingling light upon my pillow.
As the 1110011 illumes the billow,
Through the rushes and the willow,
Emily!
While I lie thus slumber-laden.
Melody,
Like the soft voice of a maiden
Dear to me,
Chimes upon my car, as showers.
When tliev waken from the flowers,
Mu sic in the summer hours,
Emily!
Through my deepest Iwsom tremble*
Thrillingly
Bliss that is not. yet resembles,
Ecstaey;
While a tinge of mclonclioly
Makes my happiness more holy,
Than is born of worldly folly,
Emily!
On my lips the tear-drops glisteu
Soothingly,
As I wake to look and listen
Silently,
And I find the glowing vision
And the melody elysian
Hold my joyancc in derision.
Emily!
Brief as beautiful, they vanish
Fleetingly;
But my sorrow soon I banish,
For of tliee
Hath my soul been only dreaming
While the phantoms bright and be: piinn-
_
On my haunted heart were <rleaininf
~ O'
Emily!
Lines
to one vowing uevenge for a slight i n.i 1*15 t.
by c. carroll leeds.
Forbear! let not vain passions sway,
Thy better judgment lead astray;
One quiet thought of good or ill,
When reason's uncontrolled by will,
One thought of future, glance at ¡>as¡,
And this vain dream, too vain to last.
This idle rage, ignoble thought,
Resolves from passion into naught.
Why so forget that noble art
Which God inspires in every heart ?
Why so debase thyself, and fall
From dignity to meanest thrall?
Let conscience battle with the soul,
It nothing needs t' augment the string,
Which quiet gnaws beyond control,
A silent, yet a fearful thing.
Raise not the hand, repress the vow,
Thine enemy is harmless now.
Contempt more poignant is by far,
Which wounds the spirit with its powor.
And leaves on memory a scar.
To sadden every passing hour.
The Zante Mariner's Farewell.
It dawns; the moon-star glows on high,
Aud tells us that the sun is nigh;
Soon will he rise o'er yon blue main,—
But never on our loves again.
Fast fades the 1110011, all pale her ray,
Pale as thy cheek on that glad day,
When first while tears with utterance strove,
I heard tliee falter, "I love!"
O, how all Nature smiled around
When first I felt that heart's rebound ;
When that fond heart throbbed back to mine.
And my full soul was lost in thine.
But now, of the sweet flowers bereft,
To us the thorns alone are left;
Love's lasting pangs, its tears, its sighs,
Its fears and death fraught agonies.
er or steam.
Mer. " Neither, it goes by Armstrong's lever
SCribmaj
ture.
cts of a brighter and holier na-
Flowers.—There is 110 better warranty of
good taste, good feelings, good morals, than
the caltivation of flowers. A true and refined
taste for these simple, yet beautiful gifts of na-
ture, is incompatible with evil or corrupt
thoughts. An ignorant Boor would as soon
admire and understand a beautiful and chaste
poem, as a licentious person would love and
cultivate flowers, nor, on the other hand, that
all mast be moral and refined who do. Yet we
do say, that an admiration for flowers, tends to
elevate and purify the soul. It cultivates taste
for the good and beautiful, and furnishes health-
ful and delightful employment for many a lei-
sure hour, which otherwise might be spent in
idleness, or perhaps folly and guilt.
The Beauty of Woman'Heart.—Blessings
upon woman's heart! for it is a beautiful thing;
so unselfish, so devoted, so patient, so forbear-
ing, and so loviug; like a rill of the clearest
water which fertilizes a whole plain, nourish-
ing giant trees and young flowers together,
giving all life and loveliness, heedless of itself,
save serene in its own deep joy. Let women
be as nature made them: and then Olympus it-
self holds no more glorious beings than they.
Let them be simple, natural, and loving, and
they pass through the cycle of their virtues,
for all others depend on these.
It lias been well remarked that where one
man looks at the merchant's sign, a hundred
read his advertisement.
sSfei
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Matching Search Results
View one place within this issue that match your search.Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Lancaster, J. The Texas Ranger, and Brazos Guard. (Washington, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 1, Ed. 1 Tuesday, January 16, 1849, newspaper, January 16, 1849; Washington, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth181514/m1/4/?q=negro: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting The Dolph Briscoe Center for American History.