L~U .. . . .
6We will eling to the pillars of the Temple -O our Libertles, and If It must fall, we will Perish amidst the Ruins.
SJERINs, DURISOE & CO., Proprietors. EDGEFIELD, S o .JUNE 2, 1858.
0ni na1 .
For the Edgeield Advertiser.
" DINA ]OMGET."
Remember, love, you piomised,
That in May, the mouth of flowers,
You'd hasten to our forest home,
To cheer my lonely hours.
I've missed you sadly dearest,
And I longed, to have you here,
To feel the warm clasp of your hand,
, Your much-loved voice to bear.
In your liglesttouch, there's magic,
In y9ur looks, a wondrous spell,
Which, tho' binds me willing captive,
Yet your power I fain would quell.
The music of your earnest tones,
The sunshine of your smile,
So trangely thrills, my inmost being,
It soothes and pains the while.
Yo! I've missed you, so much darling,
Since I gazed upon your face-,
But in Faney's far off wand'rings,
Oft your features dear, I trace.
Come, a welcome glad, awaits you
From a heart, al, all your own;
Come, cull devotion's choicest flow'rs
Which blooms for you alone.
Yes, come-we'll roam the greenwood,
qylvan dell, and flowery lea,
And list enraptured, to sw.et sounds,
Which breathes of lore and thee.
Our thrope shall be a mossy mound,
Nor a gently, murm'ring, stream,
Whe Flora's treasures rich and rare,
Wih balmy odour teem.
Sprin birds shall swell their liquid notes,
Their joyous greeting sound
All nature, echo "welcome" too,
Ab4kve-below-around.
The Water nymph, and woodland fay,
Their offerine, each shall bring,
And tay thee homage, whom my heart,
Proclaims its sovereign king.
In sweet converse, we'll pass the time,
Ana love shall be our theme
The hours that seem so weary now
Will banish like a drcam.
Farewell! I'll ever love you
As the perfumes of the rose
Round the vase, still softly lingers,- *
T hus '11 loVe hee i7l life's close.
LUCILLE.
GrZX CorpoE, April 30th, 1858
ER' GIL.e
eo, tO1 a dy, 1650, a
gentleman who had'just arrived from South
Carolinazentered the bar-room of the St. Charles
Hotel, in the good city of New Orleans, and
hastened to consult the directory, which was
suspended by a silken cord fastened to one of
the marble illars. The stranger turned over
the leaves of the volume with a rapidity and
eagerness evincing intense anxiety to find some
particular name; but his search seemed unsuc
cessful, for he heaved a painful sigh, nearly re
sembling a sob of despairing anguish, and actu
ally grew pale with disappointment. le did
not, however, immediately abandon the fruit
less investigation, but recurred to the pages
again and again with the apparent hope that he
might possibly have mistaken the address which
he so ardently sought. At length the last gleam
of expectation vanished, as he murmured to
himself, with bitter emphasis-" Vain delusion,
to imagine that outcasts, and perhaps beggars,
could have a home to be noted in directories;
and very likely they have long since been lost
in the great wilderness of the wst, or have
entered Aho deep valley of darker shadows where
living efe shall never wander ?"
The stranger then walked, with stately,
solemn steps, to the office, and wrote his own
name on the book of arrivals, " Colonel John
Moulton, Charleston, S. C." He afterwards
went back to the saloon, and endeavored to
busy himself in the columns of a newspaper;
but his glance continually strayed from the
street, to sctutinize the difeirent persons that
asuintered about the hall.
Any well traveled observer who saw Col.
Moulton for the first time, would have recog
nised him as a son of that Southern chivalry
a class the most deeply defined by specific
eharacteristics which the world has yet wit
nessed. .He was a large, handsomely-shaped
man, some sixty years of age, with a proud but
pleasing visage, large brown eyes-flashing the
bravest fires, and that indescribable air, blend
ing haughtiness with affability, which betokens
an Individual accustomed to command with
dignity, and to seek obedience more through
the medium of moral suasion than the manifes
tations of blind. physical force. lie was dressed
in a costly suit of sable mourning, and the new
erape on his fashionable hat, as well as the tra
ces of profound grief on all his features, showed
that his bereavement was of a recent dlate. -
Presently lie bounded from his seat, at the
discovery of an old acquaintance, exclaiming,
"How are you, Judge Dickson ? You are the
very person that I wished especially to see."
"I rejoice myself, very much, to have this
unexpected pleasure,'~ replied the other, shaking
the proffered hbnd with affectionate warmth.
"We have not met since -three winters ago, at
Washington."
" Great changes have happened to mhe in that
brief space," said the Carolinian in a hollow
voice.
" Has anything gone wrogg in your family ?"
inquited the judge, kindly.
" I have no family now !"' answered the Co
lonel, in accents of unutterable sorrow. llis
iron lips trembled, and his proud eyes could not
restrain the involuntary rush of tears.
"What a terrible misfortune!" cried his
friend, in tones of unaffected sympathy.
" Yes !" sobbed the solitary mourner, as if
speaking to himself; they are all gone ! First,
ay beloved life-partner, the sweet sunlight of
msoul during more than thirty summers;
ten my eldest boy, cut off in the brilliant
boom of his promiuse by the demon pestilence
of yellow fever; and lastly, my beautiful Wil
ham -a bosom's idol, shot down on t he bloody
ilof honor ! Like a tree blasted by the
lightning, I must now stand alone in the wintry
desert of my joyless old sgc, without a drop of
kindred blood in the veins of any human being
ner in, without a companion, and without
een so much as the possibility of a hope.!
'The former acquaintance did not attempt to
solacethe disconsolate husband and father, for
e knoew ell that eve~ 1rod, implying only
e snonosition of coaort or happmness, in such
a state of feeling, be like the would touch of a
rude finger upon a fresh wound-for the deep
est agony of woe spurns the very idea of peace
or pleasure as an insult to the dear ones dead,
and loves only the blackest folds of the mantle
of thought, woven by the imagination of a
measweless despair.
After some minutes the Colonel became more
tranquil, and remarked, with a look tinged with
a blush of shame-"Judge, you remember my
daughter, Maria ?1"
"Certainly," returned his friend, with a coun
tenance expressing both pain and astonishment:
"and I also recollect that you took a solemn
oath never to breathe her name again, or even
suffer it to be mentioned in your presence !"
"Alas! yes-wretch that I was and am!"
exclaimed the Carolinian, quivering in every
limb, as if under the influence of epilepsy. "I
was wrong," he continued, with terrible energy;
" and she was innocent of all offence, save the
act of choosing for her husband a youth without
fame or fortune. I learned but a few days ago,
from the dying lips of the minister who per
formed the secret ceremony, that they had been
wedded a year when I discovered the intimacy
between her and young Simons, my overseer.
Oh! why did he not tell me sooner? Yet my
pride was then so stubborn, that I could not
have forgiven the degradation of such a misal
liance, even had [ known the truth."
"What a tale of troubles !" ejaculated the
Judge, with an aspect of sadness and commis
seration.
"I have been informed that they removed
to New Orleans, and your residence has been
in the city ever since the date of their disap
pearance. Have you never seen them ?" gasp
ed the Colonel.
"I saw them both early in the winter sn.bse
quent to their arrival," faltered the other.
" Where ? How ? For the love or God let
me know ihe worst !" cried the exci' -d father,
seizing the arIm of his friend with the gripe of
an iron vice.
" They are both gone !" murmured the judge,
with moist eye lids.
At this awful announcement, instead of stag
gering or storming with his grief, Col. Moulton
suddenly grew very calm; but his visage, even
to the very lips, looked livid as that of a corpse,
and he asked, in a sepulchral tone, with wild,
features. " When did it happen ?"
" At the time which I have just mentioned,"
said the other; "early in the winter after their
arrival. They were buried together in one
grave!"
"In that horrible swamp, of course !" groan
ed the miserable father.
" No, my friend," returned the Judge; "I
had them placed in a' handsome tomb, at my
own expense, with their names sculptured on
the marble, and wrote advising you of the
fact."
"I never received the letter ; but,'oh ! how
ny heart thanks you for the kindness !" respon
ded the Colonel, again bursting into t.ears.
" As you did not answer my communication,
I did not allude to the subject when we met in
Washington. supposing it might be disagreeable
to your feelings,' apologized the Judge. 1
a But what became of their child?" asked
the Carolinian, in a voice-of intense anxiety.
" The people near the hut where they died
$k p iou - b ed- the
touhtU , t, .4pehdwih, r
ver a few days prevkid'y ;but Iiunarbil t
obtain any certain intelligence of the fact, al
though you may well imagine that I made
every possible inquiry."
" Wasit a boy ?" sobbed the Colonel.
" So they told me, as a matter of opinion;
yet without positive assurance on the subject."
"Where do they sleep?" gasped the father,
weeping large tears, one by one, like the first
of a thunder-shower.
"In the old Catholic cemetery, near the east
em gate. You can see their names from the
etramnce, on a small pyramid of white marble;
but I will show you the spot."
"No !" said the Colonel, in a hollow whisper;
I would visit the beloved dust of my injured
daughter alone !"
" How long will you remain in the city ?"
"I know not perhaps while I remain on earth.
I have sold out everything, and am the misera
ble owner of half a millhon-more unfortunate,
more utterly wretched and hopeless, than the
poorest rag-picker that lives in the gutter."
' Then come and make your home with us,
and we will do everything that we can to clear
your sorrow ; fur my family, too, have suffered
bereavement, and can feel for the affliction of
others," urged the judge, in tones of the truest
~"rIam not ungrateful for your kind request,"
answered the Colonel, mournfully ; "but nmy
home must henceforth be in the solitude of may
own chamber, where I shall always he happy
to receive you. As for myself, I shall never~
more mingle with any sort of society !"
At the moment, a youthful, feminine voice
was heard singing, near the door, the words of
a rude souig, in tones of the strangest yet
sdeetest melody and "pathos ever uttered by
human organs
" Here are flowers for the lieautiful, flowers for
the b~rave,
Flowers for the bridal, and flowers for the bier ;
Iere are flowers for the altar, and flowers for thme
nave
9me, who will buny my flowers, the fairest of the
,year?
I cull'd thenm in the morning, beneath the break
of day,
When the silver dews were falling in many a
shaining tear;
ere are flowers for the gloomy, and flowers for
the gay
Come, who will buy my flowers, the fairest of the
year'"
Col. Moulton startedl, with feelings of inde
scribable agitation, as thne notes, wildl and be
wildering as those of a nightingale, rung through
his brain. The voice, with its rich, thrilling,
bird-like, inimitable music, possessed a touch of
beseeching sadness that lingered in the soul,
and haunted the listener's heart as the echoes
of a funeral bell, or the tones that sometimes
come in the deep dreams of love and sorrow.
Immediately the female singer entered the
public saloon, with a large basket of radiant
dewy flowers upon her arms; and the Caroli
nian'felt far more wonder at the remarkable
vision of her beauty than he had previously ex
perienced from the silver accents of that en
chanting tongue. She was a alight', fairy-formed
young girl, or rather child, only in her fifteenth
summer, with a meek, pale face, musing and
melancholly, andl large, mystic eyes of the
brightest heavenly blue, but sad And ijhought
ful, I had almost said saint-lake, ina the purity
of their expression. Her long, yellow hair,
gleaming with the lustre of golden threagls, or
like a tissue of woven sunbeams, flow'ed around
her graceful neck and shoulders in shining
waves, and gave her the appearance of some
divine picture, the representation of an angel,
or other ethereal being. " How beautiful, how
celestial !" murmured the Colonel.
"It is Marie'Merlin, the pretty flower girl,
said the Judge.
"HIow strange tbgat she should wander about
tme streets, and venture into such improper
places as this, with all those matchless elaarms !
I have never seen anything lilge her beauty,
save in one-and, indeed, that dtrongly resem
ble it," sighed the Carolinian.
"It is thus that she supports an aged mother
and some worthless brothers and sisters," re
turned the Judge; "although she is herself the
personation of all- virtue and goodness, in her
present occupation she must fall at last !"
As he spoke, Marie glided, with unspeakable
grace, into the centre of the hall, and resting
her fragrant basket on a stand of mottled mar
ble, held up in each hand a magnificent bouquet,
and repeated, with still wilder pathos and fer
vor her musical song in praise of the blooming
merchandise. Every beholder seemed equally
astonished, as well by her fascinating beauty as
by the bewildering sweetness of her voice, so
that you might have heard the dropping of a
pin on the floor when she iterated, with tones
of unutterable sadness, the closing line
"Come, who will buy my flowers, the fairest
of the year?"
The words sounded like the wall of some
breaking heart, the imploring cry of an infinite
sorrow, or the chaunt of an angel at the portals
of Paradise.
But immediately the wicked spirit of the
genteel loafers and gamblers broke loose from
the spell of holy enchantment which had.held
them at first, and they swarmed around her,
with unseemly jestS and deceitful eulogies of
her marvellous beauty.
She shrank from them with blushes of maiden
modesty, and seizing her burden of perfumes
and brilliant colors, turned to the Judge and
Colonel with the eager inquiry-" don't you
want some of my flowers for your children ?"
" Yes, my dear child, T will buy them all."
answered the Carolinian, with streaming eyes.
"How much are they worth ?"
"Five dollars," she replied, with a look of
ingled delight and wonder.
" Here, I will give you ten," he said, present
ing a gold eagle.
." Thank you, sir," she faltered, with still
greater .amazement in those large, mystic blue
eyes.
" You shall have ten such pieces if you will
take me to your home, and let ie see your
other," added the Colonel, in tones unapeaka
bly earnest and tender.
'The cerulean eyez dilated to their utmost ex
tension, but shouts of laughter from the well
dresed barbarians in the saloon told that the
wisper had been overheard; and Marie,. snatch
ing the golden eagle, and at-the same instant
emptying her basket of bouquets on the mar
ble floor, fled from the hall with the speed of a
frightened fawn.
The Judge and Colonel then parted, and the
latter urged his steps towards the old Catholic
cemetery, to weep over the beloved dust of his
only daughter, the flower idol of his happy
home, banished long years ago-murdered, as
it were, so he now felt, by his cruel family i
pride. It is vain to attempt a description of
that mournful meeting between the living and
the dead. The highest heayen of joy and the
lowest hell of human woe alike elude the touches
of pen and pencil. One might as well seek to
paint the immensity of space, or draw a chart
of eternal duration; for all the most powerful
passins have a certain character of infinitude t
which baffles the weakness of words, and beats
down even the soaring wings of imagination. a
After the storin of his agony had spent its r
fury, the father noticed, with extreme surprise,
most beautiful flowers, all bright ainl' fi
the garden, and which, consequently, had been I
hung there during the morning. "What kind g
hand can have done this ?" he murniured, with
increasing wonder. - " My poor Maria has been t
buried these fourteen years, and neither she r
nor her husband had one friend in this great j
metropolis, where the lurid feet of (eath tread I
so closely on the hurrying heels of life' Ah i
see! all the older graves are bare and naked, 1
while only the recent marbles is clothed with f
blootns of green and gold! I will return at the
dawn of to-morrow, and wait for the solution t
of the mystery." And with this determination, 1
he walked slowly back to the hotel.
The next day, with the first faint streaks of <
rosy light, Colonel Moulton was again at the<
1(d cemetery. IHe concealed himself behind a
monument, and fixed his eyes on the tomb of'1
his daughter.
In a short time, several weeping friends of
the pale sleepers, whom the music of the morn
ing air should never waken more, began to
enter and strew flowers over the dust that had I
lately died ; but no one so much as sprinkled a
rose-leaf on the ancient mnossy graves of the I
ashes so long forgotten.
" Ah, me !" sighed the Carolinian, " such is
life, and such is death!l A brief batt'e, a sure
defeat, a wild cry, a few tears, and then the
great Lethean river rushes over us, onwards,
forever and ever, and blots out even the fond
est mnarks of memory from the most faithful i
hearts !"
A t last, just as the-sun emerged above the
lue of the horizon, the Colonel, with utter
amazement, saw the flower girl of the previous
day advance to the tomb of his Maria, and after I
adorning it with her brightest bouquets, drop
on her knees before it, as if in prayer.
At first, the lips of the maiden moved trem
uously, large tears rolled down her pale checks, I
and her breath issued in heart-breaking sighs.
Then she became more and more impassioned, ii
her voice uttered musical murmurs, and, at I
length, she wailed aloud-" Oh ! mother of ,
mine in heaven, dost thou see the sorrows of l
thy unhappy ckild ? Pray the Saviour of the
world to delivW mo from a life of sin and shame,
or take me home to thy bosom !"
She gave a startled scream, as a pair of ten-i
der arms encircled her waist, and the weeping
Carolinian pressed his grand-daughter to his
throbbing heart.1
Mtual explanations followed. confirming the,
fact beyond the possibility of a doubt. Marie
had but lately learned her parentage from the I
disclosure of her pretended mother, the widow1
Merlin, while in a state of intoxication. The
latter acknowledged the truth to Colonel Moul
ton, and edlained everything else that seemed
miysterious, stating that she had carried the
infant to her h'ouse when the parents were first
kid upon their beds by the pestilence, and
hoped afterwards to render the singular beauty
of the child a source of profit.
The gloom has passed away from the brow
of the bereaved Colonel, and the beautiful Ma
rie is the wife of a celebrated Southern lawyer,
witla blue eyed babe of her own; yet still she
loves, lowers, the fairest of the year.
A Sassor. AnDMmsIloN.-We perceive that
at the discussions in the Tract Society touching
slavery, a 11ev. Mr. Williams,. of Baltimore,
said "'The South acknowledges that slavery
ight be a sin, but do 'not wish the North to
interfere." Another clerical delegate from the
same city, said: "The South felt the' evil of'
slavery, and wished the Tract Society to assist
in getting rid of it." These gentlemen' proba
bly represent public sentiment in Baltimore, in
which city scarce a vestige of slavery is left, but
it is scarcely necesary to say that they hae no,
more right to speak for the South than the dele
gtes of Philadelphia or New York. What
*ver Baltimore thinks onthat subject, the South
neither recognises slavery as anl evil or a sin,
nor asks the Tract Society, nor anybalty else to:
S he e et rid of it.--Uchmenfd Dispatch.
Voltaire ass ' at every gambler is, has
)cen or will be bber. Gaming is an evil in
he first place, be e it is a practice which prc
luces nothing. f the whole human family
ere all skillful esteers, and should play con
tantly for one le year, there would not be a
lollar more in Aorld at the end of the year
han at its com cement.
On the con t tere would be much less,
esides an imm" loss.of time. But, secondly,
taming favors ption of mind. It is diffi.
'uit to trace.the greas of the gambler's- mind
rom the time w he begins his course, but we
Cnow too well th I at which he is destined
:o arrive.-Ti may be exceptions, but not
nany; generally aking, every gamester soon
lr or later, goes erdition, an often ds to
is own woe,. agging others along with
It discourages ndustry. He who is accus
;omed to secure ge sums at once, which bear
2o proportion to e labor by which they are ob.
ained, will ly come to regard the mode
-ate, but cons nd.certain rewards of indus
;rious exertions iisipid.
The famous osopher, Locke, in his thoughts
in education, remarks: "It is certain that
fambling leay no satisfaction behind it, to
hose who refi hen it is over, and it in no
ay profits eith body or mind. As to their
'states, if it a a so deep as to concern them,
t is trade then nd not a recreation, wherein
ew thrive: an tbest a thriving gamester has
ut a poor fit,. who fills his pockets at
he price of h putation."
J.T. Ieadl his letters from Italy, and
he Alps and.) Rhine, says that a "gambler
arries his rep ve soul in his eyes, in his face,
1ay, almost in' 'very giit. His very presence
mauses a chil' atmosphere around him, that
pset all that roach him. flambling more
ompletelv ma orphoses % man than other
rime except, er."
Gaming is ys crimini., eitherin itself or
n its tendenef The br'sis or it covetousuess ;
desire to tak on others something for whicli
ou have neit, given or intend to give an
quaivalenL ] ve oftea wondered how sober
ud intellige" people, who have c3nsciences,
Lnd believe. doctrine of accountability .to
3od-how pro ing christians, as is sometimes
he case in tb untry, can sit whole evenings
at cards. W notions have they of the value
f time ? C ey donedive of Him whose ex
mple we ar' und to follow, as engaged in
his way? i t a herculean task has christian.
ty yetto s pish?
The excess this evil has caused even the
verthrow of. pires. It leads to conspiracies
md furnishe' aspirators. Perhaps the vice
ias nowhere-' carried to greater excess than
n France 're it has its administration, its
hief, its at olders, its..offices, its priests.
t has its do ties, its informers, its spies, its
imps, its ins, its bullies, its alders, Its
Ahettors, in its scoundrels of every descrip
ion ; particuj its hireling swindlers, who are
aid to entie e. unwary into the hells upon
arth, so odi to morality, and so destructive
o virtue an 'ristianity.
In Engla liis vice has been 'looked upon
. one of pe 0 ions consequence to the coi.
nonwealth .been for.a long time prohibited
my l-w, Ev ep cies of gambling is strictly
TuppAished with great
verity. en-of: immense wealth have bd'i
:nown to enttr gambling |honses, and in a few
hort hours to be reduced to beggary.
The young should be warned never to enter
his dreadful road. Shun it as you would the
oad to eternal destruction. Fly the temptation
s you would the bite of an asp or a scorpion.
ake not the first step ; if you do, all may be
si. Say not that yon-eai command yourself
hen you approach ithe confineis ofi danger. So
liousands iIihave already thought as siieerely as
ourselves, and vet they f11. The probabili.
that we shall tall where so many have l
, re as iilliols to one ; and the contrary is
uly the dream of lunacy. When you are in
lined to thinh yourself safe, consider those who
nec felt themselves equally so, have been cor
upted, distressed, ruined by gaming, for this
rorld nd that which is to come. Think how
many families have been plunged by it into beg.
-ary, and overwhelmed by it ini vice. Hlow many
en have become liars at the gaming-table,
low many perjured, how many' drunxkards, how
nany blasphemners. Europe, says Montesqien,
Sto be ruined, it will be by gainig. Burgh, in
is Dignity of Human Nature, sums up the evils
' gaming as follows:
" It is the cause -of infinite loss of time, oif
normous destruction of moiney, of irritating the
assions, and stirring up avarie; of imuumera
he sneaking tricks and frauds ; of encourage
sent of idleness ; of disgustia.' people against
heir proper employments, anaY of debasing all
hat is truly nsoble and valuable in the human
ou."N.Y Obsercer
-THE TARIFF REPORT.
We find in the National 1a.elligencer the fol
owing resolutions, which conclude the report of
he Select Committee,. of which Mr. Boyce was
hairman. The committee, so we see it stated
ilsewhere, say they do not entertain the hope
at they can inaugurate a new polkcy now.
bch radical changes must be the work of time.
L'hey do not, therefore, look so much to imnme
late practical resul'm as to effect on public
>pinion, and thus ultimately insure the triumph
if the principles., they advocate. Mr. Garnett
Loes not'concur in all the conclusions of the
ommittee.
The majority report concludes by recommend
ng the passage of the following resolutions:
1. Resovecd, That the vast and increasing ex
enditure of the Federal Government indicates
he necessity of.a change in our fiscal system
hereby the protective policy shall be entirely
Lbandoned, and a resort bad at as early a period
is may be practical exclusively to direct taxa
2. Rsolved, That the ,existing tarif' is defec
ive as being founded on the protective policy,
ma taxing certain articles of prime necessity too
gh, as not discrimi'nating suffieientlyr so as to
hrow the burdens of taxation as much as pos
mible on articles of necessity, and as placing cer
ai articles on. the -freElist which should pay
inty ; and that any modification of the tariff
which may be made should .be made so as to
wvoid these defects, and for the purpose of using
he tarif merely as a fiscal instrumentality. .
b. )esolhed,. That the highest~ development of
he industrial resources of the country is to be
ittained by the greatest freedom of exchanges,
hich can only be thoroughly accomplished by
the entire abolition of duties on imports and a
resort exlusively to direct taxation.
4. Resolted, That th6 system of direct taxa
tion presenting the most advantages is for each
State to collect and pay over its quota, to be
ascertained by the-constitutional rule of appor
tionment, thus insuring perfect equality and
ispensing with multitudes of Federal officers.
5. ResoLred, That the navigation laws should
be so modified as not to require any portion of
the offers and crews of American ships to be
American citizens, and that American citizn
shall be free to purchase and sail foreign built
ships on an entift.equaility with American built
ships, and that the American coasting trade
shall be open on terms 'of perfect egnality to
roreign ships.
OUR NAIY.
The Washingion States is doing a good service
in bringing to the immediate attention of Con- a
gress and of the country the deplorable condi- l
tion of the Navy of the United States.
According to that journal-thirty effective S
ships of all clases compose the present navy of ti
the United States; these are all in commission, C
and upowthem alone are we to rely for protec- S
tion against insult. ti
Forty-two years ago, in 181G, with a Com- a
merce of about 800,00 tons, the United States t]
had seventy-four vessels in good and effective m
condition; in 1858 with a Commerce of 5,000,- k
000 tons we have but thirty ships of war in a
commission. This number might be increased t4
to fifty but at great expense and delay. s
The British Naval Register, October 1857, C
gives a list of the British Naval effective force. D
That power had then, steam gun-boats and steam h
vessels of other classes, 460; sailing vessels of b
all classes, 382, making the to.al effective force tl
of the British Navy 842 vessels. Of these 107 Y
are engaged in what is called Y harbor service,"
leaving in active service seven hundred and h
thirty-five vessels of all claises.
There is the condition of both navies, and we b
feel convinced that Congress wfi make some e
provision for a proper increase of the naval
force of the country. If they do not this or
empower the President broadly and fully to
adopt adequate means for the protection of t
American Commerce before they adjourn, their Y
constituents at home will receive them but
coldly while Preident Buchanan ought to re
assemble them for the purpose of inducing them
to do their duty in the premises.-Suthrn S
Gaard&in. p
-INFLUENCE OF FORTUNE-TF-LING.---Some a
young persons once applied to an old woman,
who, among the vulgar and ignorant, had gained e
much celebrity in the art; to each, of course, s,
she had sorTthing to say-but to one she did n
" a tale ufod]," as much to the purpose, that it 'I
caused hc. very soon to leave this world of s,
trouble. Aiter premi ing with a deal of non- '
sense, the said she would never be married, but -b
that she would oc the mother of three children ; d
that she would live ii, great splendor for a pc- s
riol, but, after all, she was "zsorry to say," she a
would die poor and miserable. Miss. B., while .
with .her companons, showed very little signs H
of anxiety; but the moment she was left to her b
own reflections, one may guess the effect of '
such an harangue on a virtuous but weak mind. It
Mark the consequences I She was at the time nl
on the point of marriage with a very worthy d
and respectable - young gentleman; but such t
was the hold which the prediction of the fortune- tl
teller bad taken on her imagination, that she s
could never, from that time, receive him with ft
her usu:l affectionate attention. Her lover, s
quickly perceiving the change, endeavored to ?
learn the cause of it; but, finding his inquiries JC
ineffectual, as also any efforts of his to rouse ,t
her to an explanation of her behavior, which
became more and more distant, and doubting
the sincerity of her afibetion, he, In the course
of a little time, discontinued his visits altogeth
er.> The young lady, perceiving herself deserted w
by the only man she could ever love, and dread- a]
ing, that as she had fulfilled the prophecy so te
fa, the rest might also be her future lot, con
tinued to drag on a now weary existence and
at length resolved to. put an effectual stop to
this progressive dishonor to her name, by com'.
mitting a crime that could never be repented of.
One morning,at the usual hour, her family find- tll
ing she did not appear, sent to inquire the cause, atl
when she was found lying dead on her bed, w
having the night before taken two ounces of
laudanum to effect her purpose. On the toilet
was found a note, detailing the particulars and
reasons for committing so Aucking on ac/, of h
which the preceding is the outline. Thus per
ished an innocent and lovely girl, in the flower t
of her vouth, through the baneful influence of bi
fortune-telling-but giving at the same time ,.
the flattest contradictions to the prophecy
against her.-American Uiion.
--- tli
Tur. PmhINn's DOLLtAns.-Th~e printer's dol- in
lars! Where are they?7 We will suppose one 'di
f them in somebody's pocket in Toronto, an- sI
ther in Hamilton, another in Woodstock, and hi
a fourth in St. Thomas, while a fifth is resting ci
securely in some city or town in the far west.
A dollar here and there, scattered, all over
towns, all over the country, miles apart-how et
shall they be gathered together? The type 5"
founder has his hundreds of dollars against the II
printer, the paper maker, the building owner, P
the journeyman compositor, the grocer, theG
tailor, and all assistants to him in carrying on w
his business, 'have their demands, hardly ever U
so small as a single dollar. But the mites from da
here and there inust be diligently gathered and Ic
patiently hoarded,. or the wherewith to (dis- 1
charge the large bills will never become bulky. f
We imagine the printer will have to get up an ai
address to his widely .scittered dollars some- te~
thing like the following:-" Dollars, halves, n
quarters, dimes, and all-manner of fractions tI
into which ye are divided, collect yourselves W
and come homib! Ye are wanted ! Combina- ~
tions of all sorts of men that help the printer a'
to become a proprietor, gather in such force and !9
demand with such good reasons your appear- ui
ance at his counter, that nothing short of a el
sight of you will appease them. Collect your- C
selves, for valuable as you are in the aggregatet
single you will never repay the cost of gther
ing. Come in here in silent single file, that the "
printer may 14m you into battalions, and send
you forth again to balttle for him and vindicate 0
his feeble credit." Rheader, are, you sure you
hav'nt a couple of the printer's dollars sticking
about your clothes ? , tI
Gor wHAT us .vwas AFvr.R.-A young gentg
is discovered surrounded by his friends, who
are jesting with him regarding his attentions t
to a certain young lady.-b
Young Gent.-" Boys, Ill tell you how itb
is: You know 1 care nothing- for the girl-It t'
is the old man's pocket book I am after-"
Chorus of friends.-" Ha! ha !" .
Scene second-A parlor. Time 11 P. M. y
Young lady seated. Young gentleman rises to
depart, hesitates4, as if bashful, and then slowly
" Miss Matilda, excuse mue, but yon must be
aware that my frequent visits, my attentions,
cannot have been without an object." t
Young lady.-"AIb, yes, sn P've heard, and
shall be only two happy to grant what you de- I
sire. [Takes from the table a paper parcel, I
and unfolding it displays a large old-fashioned
and empty morocco pocket-book.] This, I have'
been informed, is your object. Permit me to
present it, and congratulate you that you will
in future have no further occasion to renew
those visits and attentions.".
Young gentswoons. q
'A WITTY ARIST in one of our western t<
cities, met a poet friend of his, the other day, Ip
from'New York. "I am perfectly delighted a
to see you, said the artist, throwing his armI
affectionately around his friend's neck; " how'
long are you going to stay ?" "I think," saI4 p
the poet, "that I shall stay as long as my money g
lasts." u"Oh I how badly disappointed I am," d
sai the artist, in a tone of deep sadness; ",I
nu, ,ou icere going to stay a day or two.\, I
SIGHT LIVING.
"To love and to labor is the sum of living,
nd yet how many think they live who neither
ibor nor love."
What a bright thought it is, set in quaint old
axon I The first part of the sentence is a beau
ful text for one's life, while the other is an
qually sad commentary on the "living of a
reat portion of humanity I And are not these
wain, the loving and the laboring, the:one "roy
law" of the Bible, and do they not bring with
iem their own exceeding great reward? Ye
'ho seek after happiness, behold, here is the
ey I This sitting down, folding up one's hands,
d moping away one's life in vain yearning af.
r affection, will never do you any good. Just
op out of yourself, and live for and in others.
o out with a brave spirit into the world, and
inister to the wants of humanity. Every where
ands are reaching out for help; everywhere
leeding hearts are needing the-balm of sympa
ty and tenderness. The little - children want
Dur smile, the old people want some comforting
ords ; and the strongest and the best have their
Durs of weakness and of need.
So don't sit still, we pray you, for this is not
ving. But " whatsoever your right hand find
h to do, do it with your might," with a true,
Onest heart and purpose; and no matter how
envy may be the darkness of the night through
hich you are walking, the morning will rise,
ie flowers will blossom, and the birds sing about
>u.-Arthur s Magazine.
SOUTHERN MANUFATURES.-The Philadelphia
edger has an article on the rapid increase of
outern manufactures. It thinks that the peo
le of its section are not aware of the rapidity of
is pr6gress. In the concluding part of the
rticle are the following reflections:
"The enlightened patriot, even if, as a North
m man, he may think the interests of his own
etion injured by these Southern factories, can
at but observe their progress with gratification.
he mistake of the Snnth has been to confine it
If too entirely to a.nelculture. Such a policy
ill, sooner or later, :haust aniy nation.. t has
in the principle ca..se of the comparatively
eline of the older slave Statc s, and will produce
inilar results in the new ones, if persevered in,
soon as their s.ls become also vorn out.
ne of the cardinal niaximns of politicai economy
that the producer and consumer should be
rought as near together as possible, for in this
ay, profits of middle men are saved, and the
d enriched by the. refuse of the non-agriculta-.
J population. Too much attention las been
ivoted in some parts of the North to Manufac
res, and too little to agriculture, so that, in
lose places, the healthy ballance has been de
royed. in the South, on the contrary, manU
ctures have been too much neglected, with a
ailar consequence. The well-wisher bf his
tuniry, lie who is for the whole country, will re
ice to see, in both sections, the harmony res
red between agricultures and manufactures.
HOnD MEIna.--A most horrible murder
as committed near Searcy, Ark., on Saturday,
e 10th inst.. David -S. Lewis murdered his
f's father, Wells C. Bewler. The parties were
I from Gordon county, Georgia, and weie on
eir way to Texas, when the crime was cointait
d. The earcy Eagle gives the foljowing ao
unt of the affair:
It seems from the statements of the mbrdered
ain s wife and his three daughters, that Lewis
Ad married Bewler's daughter, and was a drink
(I worthless scamp. The two hid a quarrel at
e river and Lewis left the company to proceed
one. On the next day he overtookiheni aga,
lked up to the buggy that Bewler and his wife
rc in, d emlandedI some of the pioperty and be
o refused, deliberately shot Dewler with a
Cge ritle. The ball struck Bewler's arn, which
threw up tr protection, about the elbow and
nged up and through the arm and passed in
the head below the eye. ]ewler fell from the
yggv, and the wretch struck him in the face
th the iron im.uzzle of the gun. The unfortu
te man was raised fron the ground by his wife
d daigiter.<, gronning in great agony, when
e fiend deliberately reloaded his rifle, remark.
g, d-n von, von are not dead yet, but you shall
e, and walked up within a few feet and again
at him in the back. The wretch has maide
s escape. Great efforts were made by our
izens to take hima but without avail.
GE~nAr. C~iss .?gD TiPERAxeE.-Col. Orr
ited, the other day, that he heard General Cass
ysome years ago, he never had tasted spirits
his life. The Colonel, thiniking about the ex
ession, thought perhaps, he had misunderstood
eneral Cass, and last winter enquired of him
ether or not he hind mis~understood him. The
neral assured Col. Orr that he had not misun
:rstood him:, that it was true, lie had never las
I distilled spirits in his life, and had not drank,
his whole life, more than half a pint of wine I
ere is a temperence man worthy of his caldhng,
d enjoying, in a ripe old age, the fruits of his
wperance-health, strength, vigor of body and
id. But it is a wonder that any one can pass
rough life and arrive at the age of sev'enty.-five
ithout ever having tasted a beverage so umiver
,1 in the country in which he has lived. We
Lould suppose curiosity would prompt a man to
ste a drink .which his friends were constantly
dulging in. We should suppose, too, that ac
de,.a minft. cause a man to taste. But General
sas is not a solitary instance of one pasmig
rough life without ever having tasted spirits.
re remember to have heard the late Dr. T hom
B. Williams, of Greenville,-say, that ho never
vi tasted sprt in his life, and that the smell
'it was nauseating to him,-Southern Patriot.
O'N oF vTE JUsriens.-There hives,. not a
iousaid miles from this place, a certain Jus
ee of the Peace, who a short time smnee had a
mtleman arraigned before him on. :a charge of
rindling. The 'following is the substance of
a trial:
Justice of the Peace.-Prisoner, you are
ought before-me accused of an accusation to
>mmnit a swindle, and it now mnvolves upon you
r~ve yourself guilty or not guilty to the sat
faction of this h~ionorable court. What say
Prisoner.-Not guilty.
Justce.-Loking mndigna'nt and surprised
he h-l you say! .Why I am now writing out
permittius to send you to jail.
The prisoner arose to object to such a sum
ry roceeding, hut tho Justice informed him
a t thar' war nd use .ov talkini,".and if' he didn't
shet, his mouth," d-d if lie wouldn't fine him
r contempting~ the honorable court. The per.
ittimus was signed, handed to an officer, and
ec prisoner jugged.-[ Cofeerille. (Miss.) Intel
-en ce.
on'T WAsT.-Waste nothing! A crumb
bread may keep life in a starving bird; a
.reand useful volume may he written with one
r l from the wing of a goose ; and an inch or
rooof writing paper has served for a dispatch
save an army frm falling into the enemy's
wer. Waste nothing!i "Gather up the Ang'
ets, that nothing be lost,"
e ntlan, dined, oPe day with a dull
pher Vinner was scarcely over, befaro the
matleman fell asleep,but was awakened by the
ivine and invted to go and hear him preach.
"I beseech you, sir," said he, "to excuseime;
..ann sepvery well where I am."
- KEEP COOL !--The. SaieAi$c Anmmicp g"ves
us the following:
"The warm weather will shortly be here, and
every one will be seeking the refreshing innu
once of a cool and shady places whereuntothe
can retreat from the blazing sun; so we
give our readers a few hints concerniig the
cooling of their houses. The first necessty is
a thorough draft. This can always be obtamed
by opening ever door and window in the base
ment, the top of every window above.-and by
throwing each door wide open; but above all,
be sure that the trap door in the roof is open,
and there is plenty of air room from It down
the stairs, so that whichever be the direction of
tlie wind, there will be at least one ascending
current of air in the house. Another requisite
is shade. Our common slat shutters answer
well for the windows, but the moit chep
and convenient shelter for the roof is to cover'
it thickly with straw, dried reeds, or rushs.
These will resist the Influence of the noonday
sun, and keep the garret almost as cool as the
basement. One of the most simple ,method,
and at the same time cheapest means of artifi
cially lowering the temperature of a room is to
wet a cloth of any size, the larger the better,
and supend it in the place you want cooling;
let the room be well ventilated, and the temper
ature will sink from ten to twenty degrees in
less than half an hour. The above hints will
be useful to usany, and as a last suggestion,.we.
will inform. the reader that in summer, it is well
to keep a solution of chloride of lime in the
house, and occasionally sprinkle it-in the more
frequented parts, at the passage and stairs.
THz ONLY WAY.-The only way for.an editor
to get aloig, and preserve his own self-respect,
is to please hitiisel, and let the rest of mankind
take care of themselves.-Ezea 'ge.
In course it is. A4 to the idea ofpleasing
everybody, why it's just the way to displease
averybo-ly, which, of course, includes the editor
himself There. are a great many people -who
are very confident they could conduct. an .i
tor's paper for him much better than hecan dp
it for himself. A trial would conv4e them
that they could do it at least for.ffteemlnates,
if not longer, to their owvn entire satWtlion.
One whole day would, almost to a eriinty,
give th.em reasons for thinking somrelaxatin
absolutely essential to their health an4..ingpi
nes.-Pkiaddphia Eiening Bulletin.4
A TALE OF Lov.-The Chicago Union relate
the story of a wealthy lady on the shady sid of
forty-five, who became enamored of a yenth of
twentytwo, invited him to hot house, There,
after some preliminary remarks, he made Miat
an offer of marriage. The young man deoli'd
the offei, being already in, love with a youg
lady, but after several interviews the widowr
ually won the young man to her views, and inl.
ly he consented to and did marry her. After
the marriage she refused to make over the real.
estate to her husband, and this displeased him.
Recently lie has abscon-led with the young lady
and his wife has sent police officers after him,
offering to give him full control of all ber prop
erty, if he will but return alone to his home.
A GooD AiecDo'r.-Thd foi o~ng converma
tion was overhard among "~ th oluiters of
the Rio Grande. -
Scene, night-Two voluntes app"sm in
blankets and half buried in mud.
Voluuteer.lst,-." Jim- how come you to volui
teer."
Volunteer 2d-" Why; Bob, you see, I have
no wife to care a red cent for me, and 'so I vol
nteered-and, besides, I love war. Now tell
me how you came out here ?"
Volunteer lIt-" Why, the fact is, you know,
r-1-I have got a wife, and so I came out here
because I like peace I"
Hereupon both the volnuteers turned over in
their blankets, got i- new plastering of mud, and
went to sleep.
" Nicaas og NovurNu."-The ship-owners
on Saturday evening resolved that " the Ameri
an flag covers the cargo," whether that cargo
consists of "niggers or nothing." That's the
talk. Suppose an American war vessel should
board an English ship because it was supposed
to be engaged in the coolie trade; would there
not bea row?' Yet we must put up with al
kinds of insults, simply because somebody takes
few niggers from the jungles of Africa to
Cuba. So says the New York Day Book..
GOOD RUL~rs FOR ALL.-Frofane swearing is~
abominable. Vulgar language is .disgusting.
Loud laughing is impolite. Inquisitiveness is -
offensive. 'fattling is mean. Telling lies con
temptible. Slandering is devilish. Ignorance
is disgraceful, and lazine~s is shamneful. Avoid
all the above vices, and aim at usefulness. This
is the road in whlich to become respectable.
Walk in it. Never be ashamed of honest labor.
Pride is a curse-a hateful vice. Never act the
hypocrite. Keep good company. Speak tho
truth at all times. Never be discouraged,~ but
persevere, and mountains will become mole-hills.
SLANDER SLAvs bionE THAN THE Swoan.
One day, conversing in his usual half-true man
ner of the evils of war, Aaron Burr is said.to
have remarked:
" Slander has slain more than the sword."
He is also reported to have added:
" I fear that I have conmitted a great error;
the men who knew their falsity are mostly dead,
and the generation who now read them may'
take them for truths, being uncontradicted. I
admit I have committed a capital' error, but it
is too late to repair it."
Faur.-If the crop of fruit promise to be
heavy remove from the limbs as many as you
think are superfluous. Do not be too sparing:
the improvement-among those whiehi remain wi
be a full reward for the imagined loss .by those
which are destroyed. Hunt out the caterpilles's,
nests, and destroy them. -
" A Ga'V.~."-A man -named Daniel MWil
son was stopped yesterday in Washin on streot.
for smoking in the street. Being to d- that it
'was g5 fine, he handed the man who demanded
it a $20 gold piece, wh3 went after the change,
and has not returned vet. So Daniel told the
Mayor at his office.-N. Y. Day Book. -- -
SARDNEs.-GeniUine sardines are* 'taken in
great abundance in the Cooza river, a few'miles
above Wetumpka, Alabama. They are said to
be delicious, and, for want of a market, theIa'
ters feed them to theirmnegroes.
,,Whay is it,!' asked a Frsathmanofa Switzer,
"that you Swiss alwy fight for money, -rhile
we French only fgtor.honor?" I suppose,"
said the Switser,"ht both fight for what they
most lack,"
Humility ever dwells with men of noble minar.
Iti oe htpo~snot on poor and bar
ren soils, but-in grounSthat is beautifuL
Muggins says that Job's turkey as fa om
pared with an old gobbler'he shot last weekeon
th~e Devil's Fork. That ras dlgh it
down