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DEVOTED TO SOUTHERN RIGHTS, DEMOCRACY, NEWS, LHERATURk, AGRIC SIENCE ADTERS
WILLIAM LEWIS, - POREOS .*
JOHN S. RICHARDSON, J., PRPRIETORS.
VL__V___________1ERMS-- 1 CN ADVANC
VOL. VIII._ SUMTERVILLE, S. C., A UGUST 10, 1854.
THE SUMTER BANNER.
IS PUULSIur.D
Every Wednesday Morning
BY
Lewis & Richardson.
TE ERMS,
--TWO DOLLARS in advance, Two Dollars
and Fifty Cents at the expiration of aix months
or Three Dollars at the end of the year.
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insertion, (Oflieial advertisetents the same
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until onered to be discontinued, and charged
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. 27ONE DOLLAR per square fora single
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menta will be charged the sante as a single in
sertion. and semi-nonthly the sameas uew ones
Fro:n the Columbia Banner.
FIRST PRIZE TALE.
IIOIUA E L ALLS COT ;
-oR
TIlE SHOT IN TIME.
A STORY OF MARION'S MEN.
BY J. W. ELWVIN.
CHAPTEI I I.
[CONTINUED FROM LAST lSsUE.]
CHAPTER II.
" Oh that We,
In those blest woods where first you won my
soul,
Had passed our gentle days far from toil
And din of war! Such is the wish of love
Of love that with delightful weakness
Knows no bliss and no ambition but itself."
The evening repast was over, when
Dora Singlet.on immediately retired to
her apartment but not to sleep. Her
pathway had ceased to wind among
roses, and care and anxiety were heavy
at her heart.
.The old family mansion, where she
still dwelt with her step-father-a man
of moody and sullen temper, whose
treatment was not always tenpered
by that kindness and consideration
which should have been the lot of one
so tender and young-was orte of those
pietaresque buildings of that style so
pleasing to our ancestors sone gene.
rations ago, but which have altogether
disappeared in this utilitarian age. It
was a quiet and dignified looking old
mansion, somewhat quaint in its ap
pearance and style, yet sufficiently ca
pacious to have conveniently sheltered
under its pyramidal roof some two or
three generations of those prolitie days.
Antiquaetd cupboard,s; with shelves
well hidden by neatly Umiinelled doors
that reached even up to, the ceiling,
filled tip here and there the corner of
im apartment, while doors innumerable
ppened into mysterious closets on evo.
ry side.
Dora had retired into her bed chan
jer in the second story of the building
the wd ils of which were decorated with
portraits of her fither and nothier,,tiat
seemed to look down fondly upon the
beautiful and untriended orphan. A
small silver lamp of exquisite work
2nanship shed its clear light over her
beautiful features, pale indeed, yet
wondrously itir, so that she scarcely
seemed a being of earth. H1er glance
had in it that strangely tacinat ing pow
er that belongs only to beauty of a rare
and high order of perfectiou. It was
only such as could belong to a p.roud,
and generous, and sensitive nature,
that seemed wvithout an eff'ort to reach
tho hearts of' all others, while it be
trayed not event in a moment the se
crets of its own. All the magic grace
of nature lived with her and seemed
to dwell in the air sihe breathed.
HeIr hair, of at very dark shade, yet
hot wholy black, was tastefully bound
in the becomningv Grecian knot, and
4vh~ere it was gathered fronm the nieck
it formed a lovely contrast with the
dazzling white skini beneath. Iher
firms, left bare to the elbow, or but
slightly concealed from view by
unldersleeves of'a most delicate textture
afull and most temptingly round.
eid, and her small band, on tho fingers
of which glittered a single ring bearinig
at gem of the first water, was of' aristo
c.ratic loveliness.
Dora had not lingered long over the
trifle on which te was sewing, when
* she cast it aside with a sigh, blew out
be-r lamp, glided across the apartment
and thlrowinig open the easement, stood
dpon the balcony on the front of' the
Izansion. 'Ihere, leaning upon the
~lender railing which encompassed it,
Joith h'brohad upon her palm, she
ly~ifed aroad npo the dim lanadscape
w hich spread ont before her.
All was now p.acemful and serene.
hel llowlinug st'o'in; wh'had hovered
4bove but a few hours before with
wmgtis of appall ing blackness, had pass
td away with his host of su1tpherious
p ~ uds, anid tihe bright stars were
-7 ' ~ul~ng ca-hntly on the sky, while the
1lighJt mo,- -, rapidly ascending thte
sluI~rn hiOriMApobred down A m el low
and leaf to glisten like burnished silver.
The prospect before the maiden was
beautiful indeed. The house, which
was situated upon a gently sloping hill,
commanded a fine view of the sur
rounding country, and on every side
but one, lay extended fields, with
nothing to impede the view. To the
left of the avenue, which led off direct
ly from the noble mansion, was an
uncultivated forest, which extended to
the east and the north as fir as the eye
could reach, where. the pine and the
oak mingled their foliage together, and
where many a gentle stream curled on
over snowy sands under the impene
trable shade. The landscape thyt
spread out before the maiden was quj
etand lovely. A flood of yellow Ii
rested upon the broad scene, and'
reflected back from field and for sii
soft lights and shadows,
It was one of those calm and glori.
ous nights of oriental brightness, when
every sound is still, and every voice
hushed to repose-when the beauty of
Eden seems to revisit the earth, and
banish for a season its corroding cares
and consuming sorrows.
Dora had a heart to feel all the
beauty of the hour. The poetry of
love was with her, and her thoughts
were away with the young soldier of
his country, who had been content to
turn away even from her, and undego
the toils and privations of the camp for
the noble cause of independence. She
loved him with that generous and un
calculating devotion, that in one of her
temperamet.t and blood, almost
amounted to idolatry. Though meet.
ing but rarely, and latterly only by
stealth, yet his image was continually
present to her mind.
Of late there had been many. causes
at work to diminish the peace and
happiness of the maiden. The coun
try was overrun by prowling ban ds of
tories, and nowhere throughout the
whole State was there a band of patri
ots sufficiently formidable to stand
against the invader or to appear in
arms. he tidy art dor Mferiun, w-h;,,1,
still refused to disL..d.;, could scarcely
he called an exception to this rule;
for pert up in the fastness of the swamp
it lay hidden from the enemy, while
its locality was a myster) even to the
most undoubted patriots of his own
party.
As the maiden leaned over the bal
ustrade, the full light of the moon
shining down softly upon her beautiful
figure, that seemed still more voluptu
ous as she stood exposed to the influ.
ence of that bewitching light that soft
ens even the downy cheek of beauty,
and gives perfection to its loveliness,
one might almost observe the tear drop
flashing across her bright eyes, while
she mused alone on her young hopes,
the fruition of which seemed yet so
distant. Around h.r, throughout the
whole land, the foot of the invador
trod triumphantly upon the soil, and
even the. most hopeful of the patriots
began to tremble at the prospects of
subjugation. Well did she know the
fate that awaited her lover should the
invader finially triumph over a pros
trite country. IIer hopes would then
be but, a delusive dream, and her heart,
wjdpwed ini its afletion, break with
its burden, or beat on through a sad
existence, maddeied b'y its bereve
ment.
Besides these anticipations of evils,
as yet distant anid onliy covijecturdil,
there were more immvediate causes of
agilety and angyance which harass
ehepece, and .wer,o fruitful of
miuch unecasiness anid distress, from
which she determined to free herself,
ev'en though it should be necessary to
resort to the mast energetic measures.
11cr homve had ofrlate beeni frequiently
5 isit~ed by tho leaders of the royalists
-muosthy, if not altogether, imen of
abanidoa.ed charaicters anid dissolute
habits--who could nowv with impunityv
veniture abroad, anvd boldly, too, in' a
country where there was~ no longer
pmower to keep themv in wholesome awe;
and mocre than onie of these mvilitary
freebooters laud cast glances of afdvit:
ration and covetous ex pecttitions upon
the rich heiress of Suter.
F'oremnost amnong' these, and espe
eiavlly detessed by Dora, was the tory
herder Ilarrisoni, who regarded her as
a prize well wcni by hais unserupulous
devotion to the cause of the mother
country. P'atienvtly had lie borne her
withering scorn avid her freely mani
fested detestation of his character, in
the presumiptuous hope that the finval
hour of triumph would wring fi om her
however reluctantly, a convsent to wed
lhim. le had becomie a frequvenyt guest
at her father's house, whe courted the
society of the bloody anid viek man
wbom his more courageous 0 e
abhorred.
The gentle Dora was leaning oar
the balustrade and nursing upon thve
nmournful cireumustanices that darkened
the sunshine of her hiappi~eers, and bit
ter where her meditations as she called
to) mind her unfriended anid desolate
situvationu sincelhe stood isolated fromr
the world. and w1ithv scarce ne ric,..
to whom she could unburden herself
with a hope of sympathy. As she stood
looking out upon the scene before her,
suddenly the neighing of a horse reach.
ed her ears from the road which pass.
ed along at right angles to the avenue
about half a mile distant. Again the
sharp shrill neigh rose upon the air
like the clear blast of a clarion, and
Dora imagied she could almost hear
the tramp of her lover's steed along
the firm and trodden highway. She
gazed intently down the long avenue,
taxing her eye-sight to the utmost to
distinguish the horse or rider through
the gloom as he p;e he poirt where
the evenue intersocted the highway.
Iis the ~-r shir ~i'dli vg e'.mne,"
Th imi'rct t aiden, asv' liar
hand she shadea her eyes fr ho
strong glare of the moon, and gi&N
intently down the avenue. A momelt
more and she beheld the moonlights
glistening upon the sleek coat of a t'pow.
erful animal, as he turned oftfrom the
highway, and entered the avenue lead
ing to the house.
" God be praised, it is indeed he,"
site exclaimed, as she recognized the
well known steed of her lover. "Mi
chael comes," and retiring to her cham
ber, she relighted her lamp, and waved
it thrice joyfully at her window, to
tell her lover that she had watched for
and discovered his coming. Then
casting herself upon her knees and
burying her fhee ir. her hands, wept
tears of thankfulness and joy, for the
safe return of one who was dearer to
her heart than life itself.
Some ten or fifteen minutes had
elapsed, and this beautiful woman
still knelt with her face buried in her
hands-; when suddenly a rustling was
heard an'ong the leaves of the oak
that grew near her window to the
right of the portico, and a slight jar
ring among its boughs, and a grating
against the trunk, such as would be
caused by one elimbing from below.
She rose to her feet, and a glance
through the open window served to re.
man, who had ascended the tree to the
height of the window, and was now
making his way along a bough that
projected to within a few inches of one
of the corner pillars of the balcony.
In her surprise, her first impulse
was to scream aloud, but the voice of
her lover, whose quick eye had already
discovered her, disarmed her fears for
herself, and she now began to be se
riously alarmed for the peril in which
his seeming rashness had involved
himself.
The limb upon which he u as slowly
making his way to the balcony was
near thirty feet from the gravelly court
beneath, and seemed quite too frail to
support even the weight of a s!cnder
stripling, much less one of the robust
frame of Michael ; but while she stood
petrified by astonishment and terror,
great waq her delight to find her lover
gradually nearing the column, then
casting his arim around it, and finally
releasing his hold of the bough, leap
lightly to the balustrade, and at length
stand safe and secure upon the balco
ny. With a cry of joy she flew
through the open door, and ihiling into
his arms, releived her overrought feel
ings by a flood of tears.
"I am come," were the first words
of her lover, as lie pressed her to his
bosom, "but as seldom as we met,
dear Dora, I find the country so unsafe
for me, that we must, meet to part al
miost ini one breath."
"Not so soon, I trust, Michael ,"
answered Dora hastily ; "I haive so
much to say to you, Itndt am so unhap,.
py here, that I would follow you to
thme camp, arid be even your servant
thterc) rather thtan we should part again.'
"I hope, mny dear Dora," anisweredl
Michael, as lie led her from the balco
ny into her chamber, "thait old Isaac
Whorton has not, forgotten the kind
ness dime you ?,'
" Not that, Michael. not that," shte
responded quickly, as sihe marked the
flush of anger and1( surp~rise that, flashed
over the earnest featuters of hatar lover,
"biut out- neighborhood is no longer
what it once was. Traitors walk
openly abroad now, and even here in
this stronghold of whliggery as it odec6
was, but five imiles distani, from this
very spot, thme tories are to have a
grand meeting on the day aller to
inOrrow."
"Ilahi! say you so !" replied Micha
el eagerly, while a gleamt of joy flashed
from his eyes. "WVhere uateet they,
and how heard you news so iimportani,
and welcome as this ?'
" Welcome ! indeed to mec it is far
otherwise !" responded the thin woijpan,
while her cheek grew a shade pal'
"I myself heard their leaders der
this very roof~heni they Ligigly
"old of the preparations th tad'inade
*frthe rendezvou of.-4hei ragged fol
lowers at the old field on TIarcote. A
grand( supper is to be prepared for
their traitorous guests. New weapons
are to b'e distributed to their followers
with an unsparing Mmad, and provis
ions) clothing and mone vstowcd
upon all who will join them. The
whole country is astir; and the noto
rious Tynes, who is to take command,
is already in the neighborhood with a
number of active and audacious follow
ers."
"On my soul, Dora," exclaimed
Michael, with an anirmated gesture,
"this will be noble news for my corn.
inander. But had the rascally tories no
fear that Marion would hear of their
gathering, and be an unbidden guest '"
" Indeed they do ;not," replied she.
"Nor do they drea@'t of danger now.
Marion is believed to be far distant,
and too feeble, even if aware of their
purpose, to venture abroad to oppose
them."
" On my soul they are fools as well
as cravens !" mutt'!red Michael, dis.
dainfully. "No longer since than
morning I left my brave general with
two hundred as gallant soldiers as ever
fought under the banner of freedom.
Conyers, panting for the fight, is in
the camp with a full troop, and we
hear ready at a word to rush down
upon the enemy like a thunderbolt.
But I am astonished beyond nieasure
that our scouts, ever wont to be
prompt and vigilant, failed to gether
and transmit to Marion intelligence of
this gathering." g
" Perhaps they. ;.may have been
among those good .nd reliable whigs
who were captured and sent oil' under
guard to Camden," answered Dora.
"Before a word was whispered abroad
of the intended gathering, every man
even suspected of being friendly to his
country was at one"'nm oil' to prison."
"If* all have indeed tillen into the
power of the tories, there is an epau
letted traitor in our camp," answered
Michael sternly; "Marion has scouts
abroad that you would scarcely dream
of; and such as the tories could never
suspect, unless they are betrayed.
None but his ollicers are permitted to
know the names of his scouts, and
they are only trusted with the secret
when the good of the public service
has befallen his scoeus, and to do so, I
must trust you with their names, which
otherwise not even torture could
wring from my lips. I trust you, but
let the silence of' the grave forever af'.
ter rest on their names."
"Speak on, Michael," answered the
maiden, "I would die sooner than be
trav themt.'
Michael drew yet nearer to her, and
sinking his voice to a whisper, as
though lie feared the walls had ears,
spoke slowly and solemnly."
"Rich bourg, .Jat ison, A ues-can
you tell inc aught of them ? they are
our scouts, loyal and trusted. (.od
granlt. they rnay be safe !"
" No wonder that you failed to hear
front them," repliesJ Dora. ".Jamison
and Ames have been sent iln irons to
Catmden; but poor 1tichbourg preferred
a better fate. lie died at his own doo2r
battling like a lion with those who
were sent to arrest him."
" May ie rest in peace," respontded
Micheal .solemnly "lie was a brave
soldier ; and an honest man. But we
have one scout yet left, a brave and
loyal old mani, as true as steel to the
cause of his adopted country. W'hat
bad tidings have you to tell tme of' old
Archly Kerr."
"Old Arehy Kerr !" asked Dora,
with a start of surprise ! that taciturn,
moody and sellish old muan, whom nto
whuig will trust. and11 whomi tory as he
is, even his owni party av'oid an. I dis
like ? You ~jest, Michteal, indeed you
but jest inl speakinlg thus of'that inis
anllthrlie reicmcl use.
"iOn miy word *i do niot," respJolnded(
her lover gravely. "I )ld Archv~ Ker
for realsons that do honor to his~ heart,
has beetn conitenit to eiinhare the ill will
and conltempi lt f' those w~ hose devotiomn
to their counltry does not evenI equlal
his oven. Too priould, indeed too tiuchl
of' a christianl, to) pra'ctice impi ~ositioni
0o' deceit, evein lfor the priomlotion of ai
righteous cause, he wo"uldl sooner' tear
his tongue f'romn his throat thanui suil'r
it to belie his cotiv~ictions. '1 huts is
honesty has kept himil aloof' fr'om thie
tories, though reputed as suc'h hiself.
Amid he will nrot contsor't with our own
par'ty, lest, he miay diraw thle suISpicion
of' thle roytalist, party upon himself, amid
thus dimiinish his opplortulnity' of ren.
derintg assistance to Mariion. 'l'The lea
ding whigs of' the district have a huii
dred titmes dentounced himii to M~arion
as one w~ell worthy of' thbe halter, but,
our general has onlty siltiled in lie
quiet, way peculiar to himui, and Oh!
b'elcive me, onie of the ntoblest hiearts
that, ever beat, 0one the muost stern and
uinyi'eldiing in its integrity, throbs un
der the couirse jeirkini of' that devoted
patriot. TVell me, Dora, has he~ too
tall6n into the power' of' the tory par'.
ty V'
"No, icithael, nto!" aniswyered she.
"Archy Kerr is su coirdially detested
by the whigs, tihat lhe would be the
last mnan the tories would suspect.
'Three weeks sin1ce he was takent down
by a fever, aund riow lies da'ngerously
sick, and so unipopular is his name,
that I believer-nay, now I fear-he is
left to die almost companionless."
" God forbid 1" ejaculated Michael
tfervently; "he is too firm a friend to
his country to merit such a fate.
Were it not that what you have told
merenders it necessary that I should
return to the camp without the loss of
an hour, I would even hasten to his
bedside this night. I conjure you, by
all you hold sacred, suf'er not that
noble servant of his country to feel
that he is neglected; visit him your
self, tell him that like himself you live
but for your country. He is the
friend, the confidant and the scout of
Marion, and never does our general
change hus camp without directly
informing Kerr by a trusty messenger
of his change of quarters. lie would
part with his last morsel of bread to
fIed a sufTering soldier, and as his
means are scanty, the old hero may
even now fel the pinehings of actual
want. You should go provided with
such things as a sick man may actual
ly need, and whisper this in his' ear,
that inl forty-eight hours M- rion him.
self will stand by his side. Ahi! Dora,
devotion like his should not go unre
warded."
" Indeed it shu1l not," answered she,
with much emotion. " For the love
lie has borne his country, I myself will
watch over him as a daughter, and see
that his wants are all supplied."
[TO nE cONTIeEn.]
Boyhood ofDistinguishred
Meicn.
Dryden displayed no evidence of
more than ordinary intelligence until
he reached mature manhood ; Johnson
says of Goldsmith, that he was a very
idle scholar, and much fonder of ball
and leap-frog than of books. The
most interesting thing told of him as a
child by his biographer is, that once, in
the midst of a storm of thunder and
lightning, he climbed a trees and .when
asked by his parents why he did -so,
replied, whispering,.'Iha' the lighting
'-**..~ hontfi~. ntF1 r ih,( to
see where it was coming frt,1. --4his
story, if correct} -furnishes us withi;an
illustration of the manner in which the
young mind Jclightsto seek informa
tion for itself in its own -way. 'erhaps
a still more characteristic anecdote is
that told of Smeaton, the architect of
the Eddystone Light-house, who, when
a boy in petticoats, was one day dis
covered on the top of his father's house,
ims the act of fixing the model.ofa wind
miill, which he had constructed.
But.tlie great majority of the most
distinguished men-especially those
distinguished f'r their power--have
beea altogether ndistinguished intheir
boyhood. Sir Isaac Newton, perhaps
our greatest mnan, stood very low in
his class at school though he Was very
imnd of mechanical pursuits, and of
drawing various natural objects. Sir
David Brewster says of hirn that
"when he arrived at Trinity College,
he brought with him a more slender
portion of science than falls to the lot
of ordinary scholars ; but thid state of
his acquiremuents (cufitltrubs his biog
rapher) was perhaps not unfhvor'file to
the development, of his mental powers.
Uinexhausted by premature growth,
and invigorated by healthful repose,
his mind was the better fitted to make
those vigorous and rapid shuots which
covered with foliage and fruit the g.
nial soil to w~lhch it had Ube'n transf'er
redl."
The distinguished Sir' Humphry Da
v-y said of hirnusel: "I consider it f'ortu
nate that. I was left so much to myself
when a child, and put upon no partic
ular' plan of' study ; and that I enjoyed
so nmuchi idleness at Coryton's school.
I perhaps owe to these circumstances
the little talents that I have, and their
peculiar application. WVhat I am, I
have made muiyself. I say this witho'ut
v'anity, antd ini pure shoplllicit~y ofhte~rt.'
And it is so in fetet. Every ninui who
achieves greatitess doe~s so, not through
his acquirenirents tinder teachers when.
a boy, but through his self educationi
af'ter lie lhas become a man. ..
WVe miight adduc~eani inmmense num
her of' instances of positively stupid
boys who have became distinguished
and highly usef'ul men. For instanuce,
Isaae Barrows, the great divine, was ini
his boyhood chiefly distinguished by
his propensity for fighting, in which lie
giot rany aL bloody nose ;and his fiitin
er used to say, that if' iit pleased dioel
to take fr'onf film any of' his childien,
lie hoped it, iiight be Isaac, who was
the least promising of' them all. And
that prodigy of' learning, Dr. Adam
Clark, wh1en a boy, was nev'er happier
than when "'rolling large stones about,"
car'itig iioting for' learniing oJr redding
of alny sort. iut at th's kind of worls
hie becanite " uncoimmaonly h'ardy,"'
thiougli hius futher proclaimed him to be
a niost, "grievous dunce." Thantks to
Adam Clark's p~ow~er of' rolling about
the large stones, in his boyhood, lie
was af'ter-wards able to roll alA~ut Irge:
thtoughts in his manirood.
Napoleott and WVellington worebo
dull boys. The former is described by
the Duchess de'Abrantes, who knew
him intimately when a child, as "hav
ing good health, and in other respects
he was like other boys." And she
adds: "My uncles have a thousand
times assured me that Napoleon, in his
boyhood, had none of that singularity
of character attributed to him."
Phcniomacana oft'Iep.
Tartini, a celebrated violin player,
is said to have composed his famous
Devil's Sonata from the inspiration of
a dream, in which the 1)evil appeAred
to him and challenged him to a trial
of skill upon his own fiddle. A math
ematician, in like manner; .is often
engaged in the solution of prbblems,
and has his brain full of Newton,
Euler, Euclid, and Laplace ; while
a poet is occupied in writing
verses, or indeliberating uipen .the
strains of such bards as are most
fimiliar to his spirit; it was thus in a
dream that Mr. Coleridge composed
his splendid fragments of Ku.bla Khan.
The following is the account he himself
gives of the circumstance:
. In the summerof the year 1797, the
author, then in .ill. hoalth, had retired
to a lonely farm house- between l'or
lock and Linton, on the- Exinoor - con
fines of Somerset and Devonshire. In
consequence of a slight indisposition,
an anudyne .had beetn prescribed,. from~
the cfifects of. which he tell asleep in
his chair at the rionent tljat he was
reading the following seitence,. or
words of the same substance, in "Pur
cha's Pilguimage..
"Here the Khan Kubla.:comn manded
a paluce to be built, and a stately gar
den thereunto. And thus ten miles
of.tertile ground were enclosed with a
The author continued for about
three hours in. a profound sleep, at
least of, the. axternal senses, during
which time he- had thi most vivid con.
fiderce,-that he could. not have com
posed .less thian from two to three hun
dred lines ; if that indeed can be called
--omuosi tion in whmi'1h all the images
rose up before him as things, with a
parallel production of the correspond
ent expressions, without any sensation
or consciousness of eIlbrt.
On awakening, lie appeared to him
self to have it distinct recollection of
the whole ; and taking his pen, ink,
and paper instantly and eagerly wrote
down the lines that are here preserved.
At this moment he was unfortunately
called out by a person on. business
from Iorlock, and detained by him
above an bour; and on his return to
his reout, fiUnd, to his no sumal stir
pri-e and mortification, that though he
still retained some vague and din re
collection of the genes al purport of the
vision ; yet, with the exception of some
eight or ten scattered lines:and images
all the rest had passed -away like the
images on the surface of a stream into
which it stone-had been cast, butt alas !
without the after restoration of the
latter,"
Dreams being. prgduced -by the ab
tive state of such organs as. are disso
ciated from, or have not symptithised
in, the general slumber, partake of the
character of those whose powers are
in greatest vigor, or fitethest removed
from the somnolent state..
A person's natural character, there
fore, or his pursuits in life; by strength.
ening onte inculty, make it less suscep
tilbie, thani suchl as are weakei-, - of
being overcome by comnple.te sleep;
or, if it be overcome, it awakes moure
rapidly from itgbdormnant ,sta.te; and
e~lhibits its proper chirticteristics in
d reamsm.
Tfhus, the misier dreams of Weldth,
the lover of' his mistres;-the mnusic~ian
ol melody, the philosolber.scienace, the
merchant of.trade, and . Ale debter of
dans11 and bailifis. dut Im<e mnannier, a
blioleric man ofteit is passinate in his
slcee) ; a vicious mlan's inind is filled
with wicked actions ; a virtuous mn's
with deeds of benevolence ; a humor
ist's w ithi ludicrous~ ?deas.
IHow to Breed. Tattlers.
If you wish ,to cultivate a gossip
pizng, meddling;,'. ndous spirit inl
yodi( 1m'ildrenf, be sure wifen they comle
hmomew treim a church, a visit, or any
other place wvhmere you do' n'ot accomi.
paumyf thtem, to ply tfieriu n-iil questions
codnrun what every body said anid
ddadif' you lind any thing in all
this to censure, always do it, rri ttteir
hean lug. You many rest assuired, if
you pursnme a bourse di this kind, they
wtil not retuhi to foui enfaden with
intelligence; and rathier tlium it should
be uninter-esting, they wil:, by degrees,
lern t6'embellh hr such a mainner
as shalt not flu?? t i l forth remarks,
and expm'essiotis of wonder from you.
Yotr will th'us gradually rendur the
spirit of Euriosity-which is so early
visil'16 in children, and wvhich, if
rigfitly directed, may be made the
itistrumecnt of emnichi and onlargitig
their nminds-a *vehi eo of mischief,
whilch shl serve only t~o impoverish
and tiarrow tem. . .
A Ghost Story.
In all ages, persons of weak intel
eets have believed in 'apparitions, yet
ve may confidently'.affirn,' that stories
)f ghosts are mistakes or impositions,
md that they may always be detected
ay proper .exercise of the 'rnental
hculty. In all situations of this kind.
here is manifestly -an endeavor .
mike the events as supernatural, won
lerfitl, and us well attested as possible,
o prevent the suspicion of trick, mid
. silence all objections 'which might
Je made to their credibility." In icom
plianlce with this custom, we will re
count ia story of a ghost, which seems
Lo possess all the requisites. -
At a town, in the west of England,
wenty-liour.- persons were accustomed
ao assemble once' a- week, to drink,
smoke tobacco, and-talk pulitic. Like
the ecademy of Ruben, at Antwerp, -
ach member had his peculiar chair, and -
Lhe president's was more elevated than
'he rest. As one of the members had
been in a dying state for some time,
his-chair, whilst he was absent, re
'simed vsant.
When the club met on the us:r1
night, inquiries were niaturally nade
after their associate. As he lived in
the adjoining house, a pirticular friend
went to inquire after him, and rett ned
with the melancholy intelligence that
he could not survive the night.
-This- threw a glooni on .the oni
puny, and all elforts to turn the bon
verzation from tile sad subject before
them were ineffectual. About mid.
ight thn dccr opcned; and ihe furm,,
in white, of the dying or the lead
man, walhed into the room, and taok
his seat in his accustomed chair.
'There he reniined in silerice, ind ii
silence was lie gazed at. The apparl=
tion continued a suflielent time irijtho
chair to assure all who were p-esent
of the. reality of the vision. At length
he arose, and stalked towards the
door, which he dpnted, as it giig-.
went out and shut the door afte hinii,
After a long pause, some orie, ;at hist, .. -
had the resdlntion to say,
"if oihly one of us had seei'thi, 'he
would ndif hive -oen believed, but-it
is impossible that so many can laye
been deceived.' . .a
The company, by degrees, recoere4
their speech, and the wliola -*eriveta.
tion, its niay be imagined, was upon
the dreadful object which had engaged
their attention.
They broke up, and went loie.,,
In the morning, lnq'iiry was made if
ter theii- sick fiend. It was answered
by an account of his death, which hap
pened nearl.y about the time of his
appeartinee in the club root. There
could be little doubt before; but now
nothing could be more certain than t.l'
apparition, which had been simultane
ously sehmi by so many persons.
It is unnecessary to say, that such a
story spread over .the country, and
found credit even from infidels; for in
this case, all reasoning became super
fluous, wheti opposed to a plain fact,
attested by - three-and twenty witness.
es. Tb assert the doctrine of the fixed
laws of nature,. was ridiculous, when
there were so. uary people of credit to
prove that they night be unfixed:-i
Years rolled on, and the story w
almost forgotten.
One of the club stns .at apothecary. .,
In the course of his practice, he was .
called to atn old woman, whose busi
ness it was to atttendl sick persons.- j~
She told himt that she could leave the
world witht a quxit cotnscience, but' for
otto tumig, which lay upon herimind.
whocse gh ot a eenisomuchtalker
of? Iwas his nurse. On thte night
of his death, I left the room for some
thing I wanted. I am sure I had not
been absent long; but. at my return, F
fotund tihe bed without my patient !
lie was delirious, aind I teared thait ho
had thrown himself out of the window.
I was so frightened that I had no powa
er to stir; but, after some time, to my
great. astomishment, he entered the
room, shivering, asd his teetht ehatter,
ing, laid himself dowmn on the bied and
died !
Considering my negligentce as thec'
cause oft his death, I kept, this a secret
fihr tfear of what might, be done to m
Thought I could hate contradicted all
thme story (of the ghost, I dared *not to.
do it,. I knew by what had happened~
that it was huo himself who had becd
in the club-room,, (perhaps r ecollectingA
it was the tmght ot nmeet.ing;). but I
hope God atnd tihe poorn gentleman's
friends will fotrgive mte, and I shall die
Contented."
'lFen~NICAL OBmTUAar.-Ali KuI isI,
paper thus chronieles the deati ~a
printer, named George WVomie'ock:
"Ihe was the *(of his profession, the
the type of honesty, the ! of all, and
although the gy- of deathl has put a.
to his existenee, every ? of his life, was
without a j1.
Thme exIercises of S'outhCamtllna Femt
Instituteoat IBarhamviille. will be reaum
on the first Thurmmy in rctobe.

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