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lewis*' raisx'pro^ietor. I An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. |?2 piu ahujh, nr asvaios VOL. 4. . YORKVILLE, S. C? THURSDAY, JULY 39,1858. ^ !N"0. ?Q. .Select |Mrg: THE SQUARE AND THE LEVEL. We meet upon the level, and we part upon the squire; - - ' What words of precious meaning those words Masonic are! Come, let us contemplate them?they are worthy of a thought? With the highest, and the lowest, and the rarest they are fraught. We meet upon the level, though from every station oome, The king from out his palace, and the poor man from his home? For the one must leave his diadem outside the Masons1 door, And the other find his true respect upon the checkered floor.. We part npon the square?for the world must have its due, We mingle with the multitude a cold, unfriendly crew; But the influence of oar gatherings In memory is green, And we long upon the level to renew the happy acene. There's a world where all are equal; wc are hurrying to it fast, We shall meet upon the level there, when the gates of death are past; We shall stand before the Orient, and our Master will be there, To try the blocks we offer with his own unerring square. * We shall meet upon the level there, but never thence depart; There's a mansion?'tis all ready for each trusting, faithful-hearty , .. . v There's a mansion and a welcome, and a multitude is there; We have met upon the level, and been tried upon the square. Let ns meet upon the level, then,- while laboring patient here, Let ns meet, and let ns labor, though the labor be severe; Already in the western sky the signs bid us pre' pare To gather up our working tools and be tried upon the square.. Hands round, ye faithful Masons all, the bright fraternal chain; Ye part upon the square below to meet in Heaven again. 0! what words of precious meaning those words Masonic are, We meet upon the level and we part upon the square I * Cjje JSforg-Cdler. REVQBUTONABY INCIDENT, In the Jammer of 1779, during one of the darkest j&riods of our revolutionary strug- , gle, in the small village of S , in Peon- , sylvania, lived V , one of the finest and , truest patriots within the limits of the (old thirteen,'and deep in the confidence of Washington. Like most men of his time and substance, he had furnished himself with arms and ammunition, sufficient to arm the males of his household. - These consisted of three sons and about twenty five negroes. The female part of his house oonsisted of bis wife, one daughter, and Catherine, about eighteen years of age, the heroine of our tale, and several slaves. In-the second story of his dwelling house, immediately over the front door, was a small room called <the armory,' in ? t . 1 aL. J !A. J 1 w 1 wnicn me arms were uepusneu, auu aiways kept ready for immediate use. About the time we introduce our story, the neighborhood of our village was much annoyed by the Docturnal prowling and depredations of numerous Tories. It was on a calm, bright Sabbath afternoon in the aforesaid summer when Judge V. and his family, with the exception of his daughter Catherine, and an old indisposed slave, were attending services in the village church. Not a breath disturbed the security of the atmosphere?not a sound profaned the sacred Btillness of the day; the times were dangerous, and Catherine herself and an old slave remained in the house until the return of the family from church. A rap was heard at the front door. 'Surely/ said Catherine to the slave, 'the family have not yet come home? ?church can't be dismissed.' The rap was repeated. 'I will see who it is,' said Catherine, as she ran up stairs into the armory. On opening the windows and looking down she saw six men standing down at the front door and on the opposite side of the street, three of whom she knew were tories, who formerly resided in the village. Their names were Yan Zant, Finley and Sheldon ; the other three were strangers, but she had reason to believe them to be of the same political stamp, from the oompany in which she found them. Yan Zant was a notorious character, and the number and enormitv of his crimes had rendered his name infamous in the vicinity. Not a murder was committed within miles of that he did not get the credit of planning or executing. The characters of Finley and Sheldon were also deeply stained with crime but Van Zant was a master spirit of iniquity. The appearance of such characters, under suoh circumstances must have been truly alarmed to any young lady of Catherine's age, if not to any lady, young or old. But Catherine V possessed her father's spirit, 'the spirit of the times.' Van Zant was standing on the stoop rapping at the door, while his companions were talking in a whisper on the opposite side of the way. 'Is Judge V at home?' asked Van Zant, when he saw Catherine at the window above. 'He is not,' said she. TXT 1 1. -T 'We nave DUSiness ui pressing luipunauce with him, and if you will open the door,' said Van Zant 'we will walk in until he returns.' No,' said Catherine, 'when he went to church he left particular directions not to have the door opened until he and his family returned. You had better call when church is dismissed.' No I'll not,' returned he, 'we will enter now or never.' Impossible,' cried she, 'you cannot enter until he returns.' 'Open the door,' cried he, 'or we will break it down, and burs you and the bouse up together.'? So saving he threw himscl with all the force he possessed against tb door, at the same time calling upon his com panions to assist him. The door, howevei resisted their efforts. <Do not attempt that again,' said Cathei ine, 'or you are a dead man/ at the sam time presenting from the window a heav horseman's pistol, ready cocked. At the sight of this formidable. weapo the companions of Van Zant, who crosses the street at this call, retreated. .nrL.i > ?:- J A. l ? J__ ,? W uat, uneu uiu icaueij *jruu vwnaiu are you frightened at the threats of a girl ? and again he threw himself violently agains the door. The weapon was immediately dis charged, and Van Zant fell. The report was heard at the church, am males and females rushed out to ascertain th cause. ~ On looking towards the residence of Judgi V they perceived five men running a full speed, to whom the Judge's negroes am several others gave chase; and from an up per window of his residence a handkerchie was waving, as beckoning for aid. All rushed towards the place, and upoi their arrival, Van Zant was in the agonie of death. He still retained strength enougl to acknowledge that they bad long contem plated robbing the house, and bad frequen tly been concealed in the neighborhood foi that purpose, but no opportunity had offeree until that day, when lyiny ooncealed in th? woods they saw the Juge and his family go ing to church. The body of the dead Tory was taken anc buried by the sexton of the church as he hac no relatives in the vicinity. After an absence of two hours or therea bout, the negroes returned, having succeed ded in capturing Finley, and one of the strangers, who were that night confined, and the next morning at the earnest solicitations of Judee Y , liberated on the promise ol mending their lives. It was in the month of' October of the same year that Catherine V was sitting by an uppear back window in her father's house knitting; though autumn, the weathei was mild, and the window was hoisted aboul three inches. About sixty or seventy feel from the rear of the house was a barn, a huge old fashioned edifice, with .upper and low er folding doors j and accidentally casting her eye towards the barn, she saw a small door (on the range with the front door and window at which she was sitting) open, and a number of men enter. The occurrence in summer immediately presented itself to her mind, and the fact that her father and othmales of the family were at work in a field at some distance from the house, led her tc suspect that that opportunity had been im< proved by some of Van Zant's friends tt plunder and revenge his death. Concealing herself behind the curtains, she narrowlj watched their movements. She saw a man's head slowly rising above the .door and ap pearently reconnoitering the premises : il was Finley's- , . The object was now evident. Going tc the armory, she selected a well loaded mus ket and resumed her place by the window Kneeling upon the floor she laid the muzzle of the weapon upon the window sill, betweei the window curtains, and taking deliberate 1_ i?_. J TT7 1 x ./T a -t_ _ V _ * J 1 aim sne nrea. vv nai enecrsne naa proaucec she knew not, hut saw several men hunying out of the barn by the same door they hac entered. The report brought her father anc his workmen to the house, and going to the barn, the dead body of Finley lay on the floor. Catharine V-~? afterwards married t Captain of the Continental army, and sh< lives, the honored mother of a numerous anc respectable line of descendants. The ole house is also "in the land of the living," anc has been the scene ot many pranks of th< writer of this tale, in the hey-day of mischie vous boyhood. ANNIE LAURIE. - -= . ?If yon want to hear Annie Laurie sung come to my house,' said a man to his friend 'We have a love-lorn felloe in the villagi who was sadly wrecked by the refusal of i girl whom he had been paying attention t< for a year or more. It is seldom he will at tempt the song, but when he does, I tel you it draws tears from eyes unused to weep ing.' A small selected company had assemble! in a pleasant little parlor, and were gail; chatting and laughing when a tall young man entered, whose peculiar face and ai instantly arrested their attention. He wa very pale, with that clear vivid complexioi which dark-haired consumptives so oftei have. His locks were as black as jet, an* hung profusely upon a square white collar His eyes were very large and spirited, an< his brow such a one as a poet could have.? But for a certain wandering look, a casua observer would have pronounced him a mai of uncommon intellectual powers. The word 'poor fellow, and 'how sad he loodks,' wen the rounds as he came forward, bowed t the company, and took his seat. One o two thoughtless girls laughed as they whis pered that he was 'love cracked,' but the res treated him with respectful deference. It was late in the evening when singinj was proposed, and to ask to sing 'Anni Laurie' was a task of uncommon delica cy. Ono song after another was sung and at last that one was named. At it mention the young man turned deadly pale but did not speak ; he seemed lost in a rev erie. 'The name of the girl who treate him so badly, was Annie,' said the lady whispering to the new guest, 'but oh! wish he would sing it; nobody else can d it justice.' 'No one dares sing Annie Laurie befor you, Charles,' said an elderly lady; 'woul it be too much to ask you to favor the com pany with it?' she added timidly. He did not reply for a moment?his lip quivered a little, and then looking up as i lie saw a spirit present, he began. Ever sound was hushed?it seemed as if his voic were the voice of an angel. The tone vibrs I "5 < , . If: ted through nerve and heart, and made one e 1 shiver witH the pathos of his feeliQgs; never i-! was heard melody in a human voice Jike i that?so plaintive, so soulful!, so tender and i earnest! . ' He sat with bis head thrown back, his1 < e eyes half closed?the locks of hair glistening y against his pale temples,'his fine throat swell- i ing with the rich tones, his hands lightly i n folded before him; and as he sung? t d "And 'twas there that Annie Laurie Gave me her promise true"? t ! it seemed as if he shook from head to foot J " with emotion. Many a lip trembled?and t there was do jesting, no laughing; but ini. stead, tears in more than one eye. And on he sang, and od, holding every 1 one in wrapt attention, till he came to the e last verse? "Like dew on the gowan lying g Is the fa' of her fairy feet? . And like winds in summer Bighing, Her voice is low and sweet?. 1 Her voioe is low and sweet? 1 ? ? And she's a' the world io me?" f He paused before he added? * "And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I'd lay me down and die.". - t Thero was a long, solemn pause. The black locks seemed to grow blacker?the white temples whiter?almost imperceptibly 8 the head falling back?the eyes were close a shut," One glanced at another?all seemed a awe-strnck?till the same person who had e urged him to sing, laid her hand gently on t his shoulder, saying : ' t 'Charles,-Charles!' " * 1 Then came a hash?a thrill of terror crept f 1 through every frame?the poor, tried heart t had ceased ' to beat?Charles, the love-be- a . trayed, was dead !!'"*' t | pkitwis $Wbmg. | F e * For the Yorkville Enquirer.. . t i - i , THE HOMESTEAD LAW. v \ Mr. EditorIn the Enquirer of the 0 . 14tb July instant, I notice a communication a . under the signature of "J. B.," on the j ' /,IT . J T ?> 1 r ^ "xiuuiesieuu Law) auu uuui iuc icuui ui jj , his communication, I would infer that his ^ motive is not so much sympathy with those 0 p who desire to have the benefit of that law, j I as a desire to aim a blow at the merchants. j I He has doubtless been in the bands of some B I merchant who has been trying to obtain what g l is justly due him. _ c To the extent of my knowledge, I have n . never known a man who, after taking the a [ benefit of that law, was considered by the , community in which he lived, a truly honest a . man. I cannot conceive how a man can be j , honest, who would take the benefit of such r a law. Can a man who, when he is perhaps , ] indebted to another for his daily bread, and , refuses to pay?when he has. the m?ans~ . because he is protected by law, be "honest ? t Certainly not. For example: A is iodebted to B, in the sum of five hundred dollars, j for a piece of land purchased from II, and under the law as it did exist, A claims the Q benefit of the Homestead act. B loses the g > entire debt. Would not A be considered & ^ , dishonest man ? Morally speaking, he would e , be a dowuright swindler, and should receive r I the frown of every honest many; but no t r more so than for defrauding his neighbor out [ of any other property to the same amount, y |" "J. B." says "it is believed that the mer- t , chant possesses nothing that the little farm[ er feels absolutely compelled to pledge his * homestead for. - In their dealing with merj chantstheirwantsarealmostsolelyfictitious." , I would ask "J. B." if it had not been for ^ i the merchants, what would have become of _ j the poor iir the winter and Spring (rf '45 j and '46 ! " To the merchants they were ina debted for bread to sustain life; for then it oould scarcely be obtained in any other way than through the merchant. In fact, when the country is scarce of provisions, it can be obtained more readily through the merchant , than in any other manner. "J. B." says "it is not the merchant that needs protection." e I contend that he deserves as much protect tion as any other class of citizens. Who is ) it that builds our railroads, canals, churches, &c. ? By referring to the subscription lists 1 and stock books, you will see that the mcr chant contributes a larger portion than perhaps any other class of citizens. 3 I will venture the assertion that, in nine 7 cases out of ten, the man himself who claims 5 the protection of such a law is entirely culr pable; and by tracing back his misfortunes, s you will find that they usually originate eia ther from dissipation or indolence, or perhaps a both. We want no law to proteot such char1 acters. The first case is yet to come to my knowl3 edge of any industrious and economical fam ily, who have been "forced to wander with1 out shelter, and seek subsistence in the wild a provisions of nature." And I unhesitatings ly say that there is no man in this country, t who will use industry and economy, but can o easily provide a subsistence for.himself and r family. But even if misfortune has dealt i- hardly with him, and he has no friends to it. ti/Vinm Vio non lnnlr fnr oaoiafnnnp tins nnt nnf State made ample provision for the poor, and 1 g does not the merchant pay his full share of 1 e tax for their care and protection? Then why pass laws to defraud the merchant or any other man out of his just rights, be he a poor or rich ? '> No, Mr Editor, give us laws to help men who will help themselves, and not laws to d protect the idle and indolent. And when r> men see they are dependent on themselves, I they will put their shoulders to the wheel, o go to work, and not stand still crying for help. A MERCHANT, e P. S.?It is proper that I should state d that I do not know who "J. B."is; and, i- therefore, what I have said cannot be construed into a personal allusion. i3 .? ? if Pome 1?The wind it blew, the snow it y flew, and raised particular thunder?with e skirts and hoops, and chicken coops?and all I* auoh kind of plunder. TOBACCO. The editor of the Horticulturist, J. Jay >mith, Esq., has been travelling in Cuba, md ha9 sent home some very interesting let:ers to his admirable journal. We copy his jbservatioDs on tobacco: T> 4: ikla nAnnU. ikA ilC;opCr.;UUg mio pu^/uroi aitivi^ uuu IUC nanufacture of cigars, it may be expected, in our rambling notes, that we should say i-few words. It is well known that the toDacco plant is the product of but a small por;ion of the Island?the southwest. A person confining himself to short rides from Havana and to the vicinity of the railroads would see about as much of th?weed-growing as he vould in Pennsylvania or Connecticut, the loil in the other parts not being more propitious to the flavor than that of our coun,ry. Good tobacco is thus a dear article, ind becoming annually more so as the culivation receds from the great mart by the vearing out the land, which is the case jeary. Formerly the tobacco lands were about (ighteen miles from the city; they are now it least one hundred and fifty miles distant, ^arge dealers in cigars make their own cijars from the crops of the extensive cultivaors whose tobacco is known to them, and bus acquire a kind of monopoly of the best; mailer operators endeavor to have as good in article by assisting the grower to new lands .ndtakinngan interest in them. Theconsum ir of a few thousand cigarswatches his oppor. unity, and, when sure of a good Beroon or wo, purohases and conveyrf to his own house there it is manufactured Under bis own eye, rom a known article, and therefore to his aste. The cigar-maker comes to him for . week, more or less, and charges by. the housand. In addition to these plans, varied with arious degrees of the enterprise and capital mbarked, there may be seen all over Haana, Macks and whites most industriously mployed in rolling cigars; and, ten chances o one, if you stop at a posada in your rides n the neighborhood, however humble, there rill be found under a shed or in some a parcel if dark looking fellows similarly engaged; nd yet, with all this industry, it is still awonng whence proceed all the millions of smokier cigars which perfume the whole civilized rorld. Their source is to he sought for in ut-of-the-way places, in garrets and private lomains which are out of sight, which are lelivered, more or less, daily, to the great who upply the capital and the raw material. Ciprites are made by woman atfd men who an follow at the same time another employ* aent, such as keeping watch at the door of hotel, etc. Numerous small manufacturers sell their 1 _ _ i e .L i j l rucie ai a low ogure to me great ueaieru, ike Partigas or tho Cabanas' houses, who ubject them to a rigid picking j tb<5 best ooking on the outside, and which may hare ost, in the unpicked state, ten dollars per housand, aTe number one, and will be cbargd to the unthinking- American customer, rho looks only to the external appearance, t fifty dollars, the second at twenty or thiry, and the oulling will find a market at bout the original price j so that one -man mokes, at six or seven cents, the same to^ iacco exactly that better informed and more iconomical people get for one cent. The eputation of the (nominal) maker has much o do with the price, and this reputation, as n a thousand instances in all countries, is :ept up by outside appearances. W hetfa paricular brand, size, and shape have become >opular in any country, strong efforts aTe oade to keep up this appearance, and a imulated article has to be resorted to the ooment the demand exceeds the supply, yhich is always limited. Then come the arious methods' of deception; the wrap>er must be exact in color, and it is dyed; he shape must be the same, and the maker killed in this particular form must have a ligher price, or he will go over to a rival louse. Instances of this kind of difficulties are onstantly related, and an employer has fre [uently to advance large same to bis best yorkmen to keep them in good humor j yfcen this quality fails them, the rival will >ay all they owe to get them into his workihop, the best makers being always in denand, and earning from two to six dollars a lay, according to their skill. The cultivation of the island is slovenly in he extreme. There is often as much lifficulty experienced in plowing the land is in a new clearing incumbered with stumps n the United States, from the underlying >oral rock; our own ploughs are occasionally ntroduced, but the inhabitants give prefer>nce to the annexed singular and awkward imdement.* The horse, ox, or mule* is geared o the end of the long shaft by a chain, and row the apparatus is made to scratch a little 'urrow, is a mystery to the uninitated. The leaf requires to be in a particular stage )f moisture to work to advantage, and you nay see, as the evening hour of closing the actory comes on, the master mind is dropling or sprinkling his leaves, and laying hem out all over the rooms, in various prolortions, according to ascertained necessity. \nd here another process is resorted to; this s of course the moment for dying the wrap)er; but it is also the opportunity embraced A V7~ ntltni in A AAnO^I * Vx /-? infAPIAI* ,\j jiuuur vruttt id tv wuauiuic tuc xubcuui y \ popular braud must be kept as nearly as possible of one taste; as in wine, it is easy 0 decieve in this particular, and the filling s immersed in a solution of other tobaccos, nade to resemble, as nearly as possible, the lavor required. Thus, a good-tasted crop will flavor a whole invoice of cigars very pro)ubly manufactured from Virginia, or tobac;o imported from some other island. This s done in wine of all countries, and it is surely as fair a transaction in cigars. Cigar-making is a profitable operation, ,hough it may be deemed of importance to .he sugar. Both combined have made monly extremely abundant during the late seaion of high prices. Eight millions of specie irrived in Havana in March, and the rate )f interest was but two per cent., per anlas; new b&ajp were going into operation it ill ill ! I I on a speculative scale, and it was reasonably urged that cash so easily collected as it | was would lead to the rain of many now called wealthy. Cuba has its revulsions as well as New York and Philadelphia. *A?nt is given which looks like a fish hook, or an interrogation point on its side. NICKNAMES. It seems strange, that among the various snhiecta which have hoen chosen hv authors for essays and other writings, nicknames should never have suggested itself. The custom of giving nicknames has been so universal, and in many instances attended with such important consequences, that a historical examination of the subject would be full of interest. No acconnt of party names alone could be made very acceptable, and the work completed by a mention of the men, whose popularity have secured them such appellations. The word nickname, from the French nom de nigue, meant originally a name of oontempt or derision, and such is the definition always given, but the common use of the term, as 'well as the want of any other, justify its also 'being applied to that class of names, which are indicative of love and popularity. " A few examples of party and personal nicknames will be given here, in order to illustrate the remarks above made. The name Prnfpxfnnfjt was firafc rpfnrtad to tbnan whn protested against a~ resolve" of the diet at Spire, held April 19, 1539, whereby aoy further innovations in ecclesiastical affairs were forbidden. This name, derived from a circumstance of no great importance and given to a party t>f small pretensions, nqw embraces under it the most powerful nations of the world. Other examples of party names are Dissenters, Covenanters, Roundheads, Cavaliers, Beggars, Whig, Torg,<Scc., an examination into any one of which would surpass the limits intended for the present article. When we consider the nicknames of individuals, we are immediately struck with the fact that they are never-given to any save the most popular or despised. A nickname seems to bring the person much nearer, and to give an emphasis to the expressions of love or hate. We draw him to us either to embrace him or smite him in the face. The soldier, particularly, delights in being able to make use of such familiar epithets when speaking of his commander, for he feels a sort of brotherly affection towards the man under whom he has fought and bled. Napoleon was already spoken of as "Le Petit Corporal," a name bravely earned on the bridge of Lodi, and of which he as well as his men were justly proud. There is a story told of him, that one night, while strolling around tbe camp, he was challenged by a sentinel ? He did not know the watchword., and the sentinel would not let him pass*, saying?"if you were the 'Little Corporal' himself, you should not do it." Napoleon threw off his cloak and said, "I am the Little Corporal." The soldier was promoted. Marlborough?the invincible Marlborough, whose glory it y&a to have baffled the exborbitant aspirations of a Government like that of France in the hands of a Louis'XI V. also had a nickname. It was "Corporal John." With him, however, it was much more owing to his invariable success than to any personal popularity. He had none of that direct influence over his soldiers which Napoleon possessed in such a wonderful degree. He was too cold, too distant, too avaricious. Frederick the Great, of all commanders of modern times the most regardless of tbe lives of those who served him, was, nevertheless, popular among his .troops. He shared their dangers, and generally led them to glorious victories, and they had confidence in him. His niokname was "Alter Fritz," (Old Fred.) Blucher, tbe gruff old soldier, was called "Marshal Vorwarts," (Marshal Forward).? Gonsalvo de Cordova was the "Great Captain." General Grey, afterwards Earl Grey, father of the Prime Minister, was nicknamed "No Flint," because he always commanded the use of the bayonet In our own history we have several whose popularity, or successes have given them well-earned appellations. The "Swamp Fox," the "Game Cock," "Light Horee Harry," "Mad Anthony" and "Old Hickory," are names that will ever remain dear to onr hearts. Washington was too reserved and distant to become personally popular. He had no nickname among his soldiers, though it has been lately discovered that in Virginia he went.under the name of "Old Hoss." Wellington had none, from, perhaps, a similar reason. As examples of nioknames given on aocount of unpopularity or in ridicule, the following suggest themselves: George II. was called "The Captain," George III. "Farmer George." The Earl of Marlborough was "Bobbing John," on account of his frequent changes between the Stuart and Hanover interests. The Duke of Cumberland, who quelled the rebellion of 1745, was, from his cruelty, called "The Butcher."? From these examples, collected together in the course of a few weeks' reading, it would seem that with labor the subject might be made one of interest, it would require labor, but would amply repay the trouble it would cost. It is a fact pregnant with importance that the name of a party is often one of the strongest links of the chain by which that party is kept together. It serves as a stimulant, driving on with an irresistible impulse towards a performance of those principles which it represents. Take for example the Gueux or Beggars of the Dutch Republic. Guided by the strong hand of the noble, self sacrificing William of Orange, and bound together by ties of fellow feeliog in the most commendable of struggles, the Beggars were always ready at the call q^that name to rally in defence of thmu^feion and their liberty. In our own oou^^^HPcan doubt that there are thousands w^HRe at every Presidential election, anc|^^m3 totally and confessedly ignorant of^|^Rical creed of the oantfcpyUPJP Sw ef %km my have swallowed down the words of a leader' of their party, which to belch forth again on another ocoasioD, bnt the only thing which interests them, which is to them of more importance than any political opinions, and which often is the only inducement that brings them to the ballot box, is a party ory ?a party najpe. Sometimes, when the cause of tbe contest has ceased, the beHigerent parties will cling to their names with a tenacity trnly astonishing, until other causes of difference arise, and then that same name will be inscribed iL. i e .j- * ... uu tuc uauuci ui iuc auvuvaico ui au cuuic* ly different principle. This is strikingly illustrated by the chaDge which took place in the Whig and Tory parties in the course of the eighteenth century, each of them contending at the beginning of the nineteenth century for a cause in almost every respect the same as that for which their opponents had been struggling a hundred years before. Lord Mahon, in his History of England, says: "The same person who would have been a Whig in 1712, would have been a Tory in 1830.- For on examination it win be fouiid that In* nearly all particulars-a modern Tory" resembles a Whig of Queen Anne's reign/ and a Tory of Queen Anne's reigtrft modern Whig. "It is, therefore, a certain and very curious fact that the representative at this time of any great Whig family, who probably imaginesthat he is treading in the foot-steps of bis forefathers, in reality, while adhering to their party name, is acting against almost everyone of their party principles. * * * AnH in nil fh? Variations' the name is flnm. -.w-w, w-w ? monly the last thing that is changed; a remark which Paley makes of religion, and which is equally true in politics." Considered in these various lights, the subject might/ it seems to us, be made instructive and entertaining. The object of this article wiH be satisfied if "it serves to bring it into notice, or to call forth from abler pens other articles upon it. N. ltatt AN INTESESTING INCIDENT. Bank Note Reporter, sir ? Three more banks down ?' said a bright little boy of less than half a score years, as he .entered a cotfncing house in Broad street, one morning; with a buhdle of papers under his arm. As ; he entered, two gentlemen'were seated in front of a warm fire, engaged in thoughtless 1 conversation. 'Bank Note Reporter, sir ?' said the little boy, inquiringly. 'No,' replied one of the gentlemen ; 'we don't want any.' 'But stop,' added he, 'If you will sing us a song, we will buy one of your Reporters.' The boy agreed to terms, and the gentlemen, with an air that showed that they were anticipating sport, plaeed the little fellow upon a high stoel, which was standing near, and bade him proceed Jo sing. Then they waited evidently expecting to bear some jovial song, when to their astonishment, toe commenced singing that heiiutiful little hymn? "I think when I reacLthat sweet story of old When Jesus was here among men, . How be called lrttfe children as lambs to histoid, ' I should like to have been with them then." The effect upon bis listeners wasnt once perceptible, and before he had finished the four verses, they were both in tears. After he had finished, one of the gentlemen inquired, 'Where did. you learn that hymn?' 'At Sabbath school,' replied the boy. 'But what Sabbath school V continued the gentlemen. 'At Spring street-Sabbath school,' wa3 the reply. ' J. be gentlemen tben pnrcbaaed the 'Reporter,' and presented him with a sum of (honey in addition, after which he was allowed to go on his way, bat not antil they had called him back to obtain his name and residence. A Sabbath school teacher chanced to he present and witnessed the whole interview, and his heart rejoiced as he discovered that the bright-eyed little boy was -a scholar in his own Sabbath school. How often does the simple eloquence of childhood reach the heart, when the more elaborate efforts of years are unavailing. Cor.. N. 7. Evanyclxtt. BYRON'S TERRIBLE SECRET. The unhappy character of Lord Byron may perhaps be traced to the secret of his terrible deformity, the extent of which was never suspected even by his nearest friends, and which is now revealed to the world for the first time, by his friend, Mr. Trelawny, in a new work just issued. The little vanity, which was one of the illustrious poet's saddest weaknesses, made this a source of continual irritation during bis life, and at his death be exacted from his confidential servant a solemn promise that no one should sec his body, in order that the seoret should descend with him to the grave. Mr. Tre - - o lawny, however, got the servant to leave the room on some errand, and then uncovered the dead poet. The great mystery was solved. Both his feet were dabbed, and his legs withered to the knee?the form and features of an Appollo with the feet of a sylvan satyr. This was a corse, chaining a proud and soaring spirit like his to the dull earth. It was generally thought this halting, gait originated in some defect of the right foot or ankle?the right foot was the most distorted, and it had been made worse in his boyhood by vain efforts to set it right. His shoes were peculiar?very high-heeled with the soles uncommonly thick on the inside, and pared thin on the outside-?toes were stuffed with cotton-wool, and his trowsers were very large below the knee, and strapped down .so as to cover his feet. The peculiarity of his gait was now aocounted for; he entered a room with a sort of run, as if he could not stop, then planted his best leg well forward, throwing back his body to keep his balance. In early lite, whilst his frame was light and elastic, wi<h the aid of i a stiok he might have tottered s.iong a mile or two; but after he had waxed heavier, he seldom attempted to walk more than a few hundred yards, without leaning against the 6nt well, beak, 10* ?life, st ?mi sitting on the ground, as it .would han? been difficult for him to get up again. In the company of strangers, occasionally, he would make desperate efforts to conceal his infirmity, but the hectic flush on his face, his swelling veins and quivering nerves betrayed him, and he suffered for many days after such exertions.' EFFECTS OF ADVEBTI8I2TG. The New York Ledger is a weekly paper nP Vmf o fnnr ttobn nvnoVienan V> n * nnlt ui uuv a isn jhio ca^biicuvcj uuv ua jiuw lisher has expended about a quarter of a million dollars in advertising it in this and other journals?$100,000 of it within the last year. The results have justified $fi|l magnificent outlay. The Ledger now issud some 320,000 copies regularly ; keeping eight single-cylinder power presses running on its weekly edition fro91 Monday morning till Saturday night. The white paper of each issue, dry, wejghs 3S,8Q0.pounda (350 reams, weighing 52 pounds each).; >nd each edition as it comes damp from the press must weigtj .some twentyiffveorthirty lean. The publisher's outlay in ohtaioiog^hisenormous circulation has of cotfrse Leon great; but he has made it all out of-his basinem, and something mote. We do not mean to claim all the Credit of his sneoea for hk ad* vertising, for he employs able and. popular writers, and has much improved the quality of his journal within the last year; butwithout extensive advertising the merits of Mi sheet would have remained ft> this hour ** kqown to, and of course unappreciated ly, the great mass of those who are now his readers. Business in-our day has throwea dinal elements. 1. Tbeatticle offered must be well worth the- money ; 2: It must ibh adapted* to the needs and tastes Of the millions? 3. ft must be so advertised (hat the 111 .. j- ?-11 uhiiiudb are ipaue tuny aware 01 its eztStVBMJ and, 4. It kiust be Bold for cash down and nothing ahftrt.. .B^ed on ihesefonndations, business may succeed, even .in. these doll, hard times.?Tribvne. ? ??? - . ? ' What -Drunkard Mzans.?Some one answers this question after the following style ?we know not the author?and in the absence of that knowledge, appropriate the article,: \ ' Lest I should, seem to claim too much for the name ef God and thus loose^all,^-fill take a few illustration* and show fhat&ie names of all things designate our notioosof^ those things, and that the name enlarge! il\ proportion as our notions enlarge. For example: What ia meant by the word <drnnkard ?' it is a name; and what is impUhd in this name ? To the unthinking, it means nothing more than a worthless, disreputable, | despicable wretch. To the rum-seller, it means a poor, ragged, thirsty customer, who brines his nay in small sums: who ia alwava w ? . / thirety, always profane, and always welcome whoa be has money. Bat to hie family what a different meaning the name of 'drunkard' has ! It means a faithless husband, a brutal father, an everlasting shame, and a perpetual dread. And what does this word 'drunkard' mean to the thinking man, the philanthropist, and the Christian ? It means a,violator of the laws of health and deeency; an offender against the duties and charities of home: a neglector and despiser of morality and religion. A blot, a stain, and a burden. A living libel on his .race. An outcast from the decencies of life; a poor, pitiable offender, who is destroying every fair thing in his body and soul, and while bringing blnshes and tears to the eyes and cheeks of all about him, is preparing to make his bed in hell. Lati Houbs.?At whatever period we gb to sleep, says Br. Combe, one fact is certain, that we can never without impunity torn day into night. Even in the most scorching seasons of the year, it is better to travel under the burning sunshine than ia the eool of the evening, when the dews are felling and the air- damp. Two colonels in the Frenoh army had a dispute whether it were safer to march in the heat of the day or iu the evening. To ascertain the point, they got permission from the commanding officer to pot their respective plans into exccation. Accordingly, the one with his division marched daring the day, although it was in the heat of summer, and rested all night; the other slept in the daytime, and marched daring the evening, and part of the night. The result was, the first performed the journey of 600 miles without losing a single man or horse, while the latter lost most of his horses and several of his men. Clergymen in the Ball Room.?A correspondent of the Chicago Press and Tribune, writing from Atlanta, Logan county, Illinois, desoribcs the singular termination of the Fourth of July Ball in that town : "It appears that the managers, several days since, sent special invitations to the Ministers of the various churches in town, to attend the dance, thinking to have a good laugh to themselves over it; but to the surprise of those present, after the ball had got under full headway, four of the aforesaid ministers made their appearanoein the Hall, and soon were mingling with the bystanders. The "set" being through, the announcement was made that the ministers having been solicited to attend, desired that a portion of the rime should be set apart for them, which was acceded to.. Then com' ' - - a .? L II menced the religions exercises or tne wui.? One preached, another prayed, and another struck up a good old religions hymn, when the dancers, seeing what turn matters were likely to take, ordered the mnsioians to proceed, and began the danoe again, leafing the ministers to do their own ringing, and make their exit the best way they ooold." Yankee Music for Tuekey.?Mr. B. A. Bnrditt, of Boston, has just completed an order to furnish the National Airs of Amerioa for the army and Nary of the Saltan of Tnrkey. The order was given to Mr? Bnrditt through Hon. F. W. Linoob, jr.. Mayor, by His Highness the Bear Admiral MeUaetftohn.