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?l)c Cani&cn Journal. VOLUME 11. CAMDEX, SOUTH-CAEOLINA, JULY 2,185o! NUMBER 52, THE CAMDEN JOURNAL, PUBLISHED BV THO. J. WARREN & C. A. PRICE, EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS. THE SEMI-WEEKLY JOURNAL Is published at Three Dollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or Four Dollars if payment is delayed for three months. THE WEEKLY JOURNAL b published at Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or Three Dollars if payment is delayed for three months. Any person procuring five responsible -subscribers shall 1 be entitled to the sixth copy (of the edition subscribed for) j frratis for one year. ?nxrppTrxkmE\TS will he inserted at the followine fat**: For one square (14 linen or lew) in ihe semi-weekly, j ?>ne dollar for the first, and twenty-five cents for each j SQhseqnent ineertlou. In the weekly, seventy-five cents per square for the first, *nd thirty-s^ven and a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Single insertions one dollar per square. The nttmter of insertions desired, and the edition to be published In. must be noted on the margin of all adver- J tisemenls. or they will be inserted semi-weekly until ordered to be discontinued, ami charged accordingly. Semi-monthly, monthly and quarterly advertisements charged the same as for a single insertion. Liberal discounts allowed to those who advertise for three, six, or twelve months. 1 " ~?K- rwaf?nnwl fn COlirni'iniCTHiuii* uy man iiiu.il trc ? ^reare attention. Poetical El ep art incut. NEVER HOLD MALICE. BT ELIZA COOK. Oh! never "hold malice;" it poisons our life With the gall-drop of hate and the night-shade of strife; Let us scorn tvheie we must, and despise where we may. But let anger, like sun-light, go down with the day. j Our spirits in clafhing may bear the hot spark, But no smouldering flame to break out in the dark; Tie the narrowest heart that creation can make, Where our passions fold up like the coils of a snake. Oh! never 'hold malice;" it cannot be good, For 'tis nobler to strike in the ni6h of hot blood, Than to bitterly cherish the name of the foe? Wait to sharpen the weapon and measure the blow. The wild dog in hunger?the wolf in its spring? The shark of the waters?the asp with its sting? Are less to be feared than the vengeance of man, Wfien it liftthin secret to wound when it can. Oh! never "hold malice;*1 dislike if you will. Yet remember humanity liuketh us still; We ire alt of us human, and all of ua erring, And mercy within us should ever be atirring. Shall we dare to look up to the father above, With petitions for pardon or pleading for love ? Shall we dare, while we pant for revenge on anu other, To ask from a God, yet deny to a brother? WHY ARE THE BEAUTIFUL SO RARE? Why are the beautiful so rare ? 4The eternal stars are ever bright; And, save the tinge its meek lips wear, The simple daisy always white: But/mong the thousands that I meet, flow scantot beauty is the share; a?,?1 I nnniter in th?? Afreet Why are the beautiful so rare ? The dore has still its sleeky coat, "Hie jay its clear cerulean eyes, The robin crimson round its throat, Ail.fresh, as if from Paradise; 'Mid human crowds it makes me start To note what motley looks they wear! My heart inqiiireth of my heart, Why are the beautitul so rare ? Ootrao^oo*.?The rowdies of Pittsburg, have a refined way of showing their rowdyism. It is by throwing oil upon all ladies they see with silk dresses on. The Boston Post mentions in proof of the progress of phonography, that a lazy boy out west spells Andrew Jackson, dcru Jaxn. The Globe says: " We see that a "small lady's gold watch is advertised as lost the other evening^atthe theatre. We wonder if itdiffers in appearance from the watches usually worn i Oj'sli' * large muiea. A striking evidence of the terror inspired by a public execution, may be found in the fact, that every loafer is always anxious to see it! At the last banging in this city, a jrorson who was remarking thut be hud "a puss" from the Sheriff, to see the execution, was offered $5 for it hv a man that could not afford one-fiftli the amount for any amusement?N? Y. Express Irish Superstitious.?When you hear a j>ersou speak in his sleep put his hand in a basin -of water, and he will tell you all his secrets. If a nail should enter your foot, prevent it, if possible, from getting rusty, or the foot will mortify. Go to a tree lull of leaves nine mornings, fnsteuing; and tell it a dream, and at the terminnf flint timp there will not be a single leaf I .on the tree?it will be quite withered and faded. Rich Joke.?An Irishman went a fishing, and among other things he hauled in, was a large size turtle. To enjoy the surprise of the servant girl he placed it in her bedroom. The next morning, the first lhat bounded in to the breakfast room was Biddy. with the exclamations: M Be Jabers, I've got the devil f M What devil, inquired the head of the house, feigning surprise. * Why, tne bull bed-bug, sure, that has been ateiii* the children for the last two months." A human skeleton, over eight feet high, was dug up at Jersey City last week. 3, Sclcrtcfc 3Talc. ISADORE?A TALE OF A BROKEN HEART. In the church-yard of * * * *, there is a grave covered with a plain slab of white marble; with no other inscription than " Isadore d'Ereillo, aged nineteen." These few words speak history to the heart; they tell of t. beautiful flower withered, far from its accustomed soil, in tlie spring-day of its blossom; they tell the fate of u young and unhappy stranger, dying in a foreign country, remote from every early association, her last moments unsoothed by affectionate solicitude, no tender voice, whose light est sound breathed happy memories, no eye of fondness on which the fainting mourner might look for sympathy?her very ashes separated from their native earth. " Might I not fancy myself a hero of fiction?" j said Col. Fitzallan, bending gracefully as he caught the snow-white hand which had justarI ranged his sling. "Fair lady, henceforth I vow myself your true and loyal knight, and thus pledge my heart's first homage!" pressing the yielding fingers gently to his lips. Alas! thought Isadore, a blush, sigh and smile, mingled together?lie loves not passionately as 1 love, or he could not trifle thus; alightcompliment was never breathed by love. Isadore was at that age when the deeper tenderness of woman first deepens the gayety of childhood, like the richer tint that dyes the rose as it expands into summer loveliness. Adored by her father, for she had her mother's voice and look, and came a sweet remembrancer of ins youtn s sole, warm dream of happiness, of that love whose joy departed ere it knew one cloud of care, or sting of sorrow; a word of augerseemed to Don Fernando a sacrilege against the dead, and his owu melancholy constancy gave a reality to the romantic imaginings of his child. Shu now loved Fitzallan with all the fervor of first excitement; she had known him under circumstances the most affecting, when the energies aud softer feelings of woman-were alike called orth; when the proud and fearless soldier became dependent on her he hud protected ; laid on the bed of sickness, far from the affectionate hands that would have smoothed, the tender eyes that would have wept over his pillow. Isadore be came ms nurse, sootneu witu unremitting care the solitude and weariuess of a sick room; and when again able to bear the fresh air of heaven, her arm was the support of her too interesting patient. With Fitzallan the day-of romance was over, a man above thirty* cannot enter into the wild visions of an euthusiastic girl, flattered by the attachment which Isadora's very looks betrayed, he trifled with her, regardless or thoughtless of the young and innocent heart that confided so fearlessly. Love has no power to look forward?the delicious conciousuess of the present, a faint but delightful shadow of the past, form its eternity; the possibility of separation never entered the mind of bis Spanish love, till ritzallan s instant return to England became necessary. They parted with all those gentle vows which are such sweet anchors lor hope to rest on in absence?hut, alas, such frail ones! For a time her English lover wrote very regularly. That philosopher knew the human heart, who said, " 1 would separate from my mistress | for the sake of writing to her.'' A word, a look,! niav be forgotten. but a letter is a lastinir me morial of affection. The correspondence soon slacked on his part. Isudore tending the last moments of a beloved parent, had not one thought for self; but when that father's eyes were closed, and her tears had fallen on the companion of her infancy, the orphan looked around for comfort, consolation, and felt, for the first time, her loneliness and the sickness of hope deferred. Fear succeeded expectation ; fear, not for his fidelity, but his safety; was he 1 1 1 J r I i * i i* again laiu on u oeu 01 sicKtiess, ana isuaore iar away ? She dwelt on this idea till it became a present reality ; suspense was agony; at length she resolved to visit England. She sailed, and after a quick voyage, reached the laud ; a wanderer seeking for happiness, which, like the shadow thrown by the lily on the water, still eludes the grasp. It was not thus in the groves of Arragon, she looked forward to the British shore; it was then the promised home of a beloved and happy bride. ike day after her arrival ni London, sue drove to her agent's, (for her father, during the troubles in Spain, had secured some property in the English funds,) hoping from hiui to gain some intelligence of the colonel. Passing through a very crowded street, her coach hecoining entangled in the press, occasioned a short stoppage. Gazing round in that mood, when, anxious to escape the impressions within, the eye involuntarily seeks for others without, her attention became attracted to an elegant equipage. Could she be mistaken? never, ill tliiit form ? if urnu Riirplv I'itznlhm! \Yl?ll she remembered that graceful bend, that air of protection with which bo supported his companion. The agitated Spaniard just caught a glimpse of her slight and delicate ligure, of eyes blue as a spring sky, of a cheek of sunset; and, ere her surnrise allowed the nower of movement. the carriage was out of sight Her entreaties to be allowed to alight, being attributed to fear, were answered by assurances that she was safe. Gradually becoming more composed, she bade the coachman inquire who lived in the house opposite. It was the name she longed to hear ?Colonel Fitzallan. She returned home, and with a tremulous hand traced a few lines, telling him how she had wept his silence, and entreating him to come and say she was still his own Isadore. The evening passed drearily, but he came not. Was he indispensably engaged ? Had he not received her note < Any supposition but intentional delay. The next morning the same fervid anxiety oppressed her; at length she heard the door open, and, springing to the window, she caught the eight of a military man ? she heard his steps on the stairs?a gentleman entered, but it was not Fitzallan! Too soon she learned his mission; he whom she had loved, so trusted, had wedded another?the lady she saw the day before was his wife ; and un witling to meet tier inmseit, lie Jiati cnargea a friend to communicate the fatal intelligence. Edward B gazed with enthusiastic admiration on the beautiful creature, whose pale lips, and scalding tears, which forced their way through the long dark eyelashes, belied the firmness her woman's pride taught her to assume.? Shame, deep shame, thought he, on the cold, the mercenary spirit which could thus turn the warm feelings of a loud and trusting girl into poisoned arrows, could thus embitter the first sweet flow of affection. He took her hand in silence?he felt that consulation in a case of this kind was but mockery. They parted, the one to despair over the expired embers, the other to nurse the lirst sparkles oi'hope. The ndxt morning, scarcely aware what he was doing, or of the motive which uctuated him, (for who seeks to analyse love's earliest sensation ?) Edward sought the abode of the interesting stran? n~ i- 1 i? u;t?.,iiun>o cr. ^cr. tic iuuiiu wiiu iici vuiuiici a ibmtiiuu o ovlicitor; that gentleman, suspicious of the warm feeling evinced by his friend for the fair Spaniard, had employed a professional man; for he was well aware that the letters he had written would give Isadore strong claims upon him.? He arrived at the moment when she first comprehended that her lover's reason for wishing his letters restored, originated in his fear of a legal use being made of them. Her dark eye flashed fire, her cheek burnt with emotion, her heart-beat became audible, as she hastily caught the letters, and threw them into the flames ? " You have performed your mission," exclaimed she; " leave the room instantly." Her force was now exhausted, she sank back on the sofa. The tender assiduities of Edward at length restored her to some degree of composure. It was luxury to have her feelings entered into; to share sorrow is to soothe it. She told him of hopes blighted forever; of wounded affection; of the heart sickness which had paled her cheek, j had worn to a shadow her once symmetrical form. She had in her hand a few withered leaves, " It is," said she, "the image of my fate; this rose fell from inv hair one evening; Fjtz allan placed it in his bosom; by moonlight I saw it thrown aside; it was faded, but to me it was precious from even that momentary caress; 1 have to this day cherished it Are not our destinies told by this Hower ? His was the bloom, the sweetness of love; my part was the dead and scenlless leaves." Kdward had now become her constant companion ; she found in him a kind and affectionate brother. At length he spoke of love. Js- i adore replied by throwing back her long dark hair with a hand whose dazzling whiteness was all that remained of its former beauty, and bade him look on her pale and faded countenance, j and there seek his answer? " Yes, 1 shall wed, but my bridal wreath will j be cypress, my* beu tlie grave, my spouse tne hungry worm!" Edward gazed on her face, and read conviction; but still his In-art clung to her witli all the devotedness of love, which hopes even in despair, and amid the wreck of every promise of happiness, grasps even at the unstable wave, i One evening sue leaned by a window, gazing ! fixedly 011 tne glowing sky of a summer sunset; \ tiie rich color of her cheek which reflected the carnation of the west, the intense light of her soft but radiant black eyes, excited almost hope; could the hand of death he on what was so beau- ! tiful ? For tiie first time she asked for her lute; hitherto she had shrunk from the sound of music ; Fitzallan had loved it; to her it was the knoll of departed love. She waked a few wild I I. I _ mi I t? r J i _ meiaucuoiy notes. - i nese sounus, saiu sue, "are to me fraught with tender recollections ; it is the vesper hymn of my own country." She mingled her voice with the tones, so faint, so sad, but so sweet, it was like the song of a spirit , as the concluding murmur died away. She sunk back exhausted; Edward for a while sup- . ported her head on his shoulder; at length he parted the thick curls from oil' her lace, and i timidly pressed her lip; he started from her thrilling touch?it was his last kiss?Isadora Imd expired in his arms! The Rich Men of Xew York.?Thestarting 1 i . .< ~r *i.? -:..u poilll III hie curse 01 some ui uic mum uit-u m New York is thus referred to in the Herald: There is hardly a rich man in this community who did not commence his career poor?began as a journeyman in his line of business.? The career of a few of our leading rich men may serve as instances. The late John Jacob Astor?who died not long ago, and was probable worth tliirtv millions?commenced his ea reer on this continent as a journeyman pedlar, beginning with candy, and getting on to fur ped ling, when he commenced investing in real estate. His descendants now are stars at the Opera. The late John 0. Costar was a journeyman hatter, and died recently a millionaire. < The late John Mason was originally a tailor, 1 from Connecticut; the late Mr. Jones,a coop, er?jet both wore honest and industrious thro* life, and left large fortunes, which their happy descendants are enjoying in every genteel way. Stephen Whitney, who now owns blocks of ; buildings in this city, began as a journeyman clerk in a small grocery store. The Harpers, whose business now amounts to millions, be gun as journeymen printers, and now build churches and endow parsons. The Havemey- i ers were journeymen sugar reiinors. C. 11. i Marshall, the largo ship owner, was a sailor i-i*?- a I. ,.4 'HI.., ...A.illlnr innrolmnttt I UUIUrU 11IU II lata. l uu nuiukuj lord & Tileston, were journeymen?one an a printer, the other in the shoo business. E. K. ? Collins, the great steamship anil packet owner, I and liberal merchant, was a journeyman clerk in a commission house. Stetson, of the Astor i House, was a journeyman bar-keeper at ins 3tart. Shorthand, the rich cooper and land owner, was for years merely a journeyman cooper, And so it is in every rank, profession and extended business, in which men engage in this city. Our richest and most prosperous citizens commenced with nothing, and have amassed their fortunes by persevering industry. We have very few rich men who were bora rich. TWO DOCTORS. DOCTOR OF DIVINI TY AND DOCTOR OF MEDICINE. Minister?Good morning, Doctor; how are all your patients? Doctor?Doing well. I have excellent luck, don't I ? M.?Yes yon do; how do you get along so well; how do you treat them ? D.?I will tell you. I exhibit such remedies as operate on forty pair of nerves and the branches. consenuentlv the whole svstern feels the influence of my remedies, mid iny patients get well. But your remedies, only effect tea pair of nerves, consequently but few of your patients get well. M.?But, Doctor, how is that? You say I prescribe for forty pair. Please explain. D.?I will explain, as every Doctor of Divinity should understand. You, sir, apply all of your remedies to the brain, aud from the brain emanate ten pair of nerves; thirty originate in tko oninn on/1 flin?v* trnn mobn n/\ nt.r.li/in in vuv spuv uuu wu miwiii j vu ujunv tju tion. The Jews understood this, and when they punished a criminal with stripes, they gave him thirty nine pair of nerves. Paul said, thrice have 1 received forty stripes save one. But Dr. Willis has since discovered another pair r - -ll - J -i - oi nerves, wuicn is cauea me accessory nerve of Willis. Had the Jews known there were forty pair, they would no doubt have given forty stripes. Now, for you to be successful in saving your patients, you must preach to forty pair of nerves, and you will have great success. M. ? Well, Doctor, please tell tue how I shall preach to forty pair of nerves. You say 1 prescribe for ten pair originating in the brain. Now, Doctor, if 1 reach the brain, then through the brain 1 reach the heurt, and the man is saved. D.?Reverend sir, do yon know that the heart is muscle, and is no more in itself considered than any other muscle of the body, and the nerves leading to the heart originate in the head and the spine, therefore ifthe heart is diseased 1 frequently apply remedies to the spine, and so with every other internal oraan. The nerves run from the spine to those organs, and you, reverend sir, should exhibit such remedies, and in'euch a man- : neras to effect every nerve in the body. Your patients are all criminals, and you should give them thirty-nine or forty lashes (one for every nerve) every Sabbath, and I think nearly all your patients would get well. M.?Doctor, do you apply your remedies to the forty pair of nerves t If so, pray tell me what is your medicine ( i D.?Dear sir, I use all the medicines God has provided, as each case may require, having ' special regard to the condition of every part of 1 the body; and this is the secret why all my pa- j tients get well. M.--Well, Doctor, how shall I preach to cure j my patients I 1).?Dear sir, do as I do. Uso all the remo- 1 dies (Jod has provided. The remedies for you 1 to exhibit are the bread of lite, the water of life, ] and liberty to the captive, relief to the poor, economy to the extravagant, industry to the la- 1 zy, knowledge to the ignorant, temperance to ' the drunkard, trutii to the liar, honesty to the 1 knave fear to the profane and to the Sabbath brea- ' kers, and lastly, a free salvation to ail. I'y a faithful exhibition of the above remedies, you ' will see an amendment in all the symptoms of your patients?and your bill will be paid. Lmve and Insanity.?A Paris letter writer savs ' 1K.1 on oKlo n.iAil ujcib ouiiiu iiiuiiiiic* riuwui .uuu uu vi<? an uui? j'u|<n of the Conservetoire, was engaged to be married to a young man, by whom she was warmly loved. Sho had money ; and he, poor fellow, had none. 1 The day was fixed. lie went into the country to ( get the necessary papers. The relatives of the lady took advantage of his absence, plotted against . him, a conceit fannlle was called, and her godfather 1 addres.-ed her. He advised her to alter her de- 1 termination, as her friends could no longer ap- ' prove hrr union. .No reply. He then, in the name i of the family, forbade her union. No reply. Sur- i prise, indignation, grief had brought on a nervous , contraction of the tongue. For twelve lious she could not speak. ?She recovered her speech at the end of that period ; but she was, and is insane. ] ' Do you think people are troubled as much with ' fleabotomary, now, doctor, as they used to be before they discovered the anti-bug beadstead < asked Mrs. Partingion, of the doctor of the old 1 school who attended upon the lamilv where she < was staying. "Phlebotomy, madam," said the doctor, gravely "is a reinedv, not a disease." "Well, well," replied she, "no wonder one gets ' 'em mixed up, titer is so many of'em. We nev- ' sr heard in old times of tensors in the threat, or i einbargos in the head, or neurology all over us, or j consternation in the bowels, as we do now-a-days. , But its an ill wind that don't blow nobody no good , and the doctors flourish on it, like a green baize ^ tree. But of course they don't have anything to do with it?they can't make 'em come or go." The doctor stepped out with a genteel bow, 1 and the old lady watched him till his carbriolet t had turned the corner, her mind revolving the ? intricate subject of cause and ellect.?I'ulhjiiuicr. Romk.? The Pope has published an address and explanation of the startling events of his reign, and commenting on the affairs of the Roman Catholic world. He especially stigmatised the prosecution of the Archbishop of Turin by the Piedmontcsc Government. The houses . j _.i ut Ciiigusu resmeius aim umui s am t"ioc ly searched for Hi bios, not even excepting the British Consuls. i Florida.?The Tallahassee Sentinel of the 4th inst. says: " All the papers conclude that the crop cannot, under the most favorable circumstances, exceed that of last year. It is too early to arrive at positive conclusions, but it appears probable that the crop will again be short eveiywhere, except in Florida. Here the prospect is fair. There can be no question that eottota is a much more certain crop here, than in any other portion of the world. Rich, heavy lands may be very important, but good seasons are ~.\a I?^ U?.,? " iiiu1c bu) auu ucjc >vc nave tueui. When moving into a new houBe, let the first things you bring into it be a little coal and salt Thb Hhad ajw the Heart.?Here is a beautiful thing from the pen of Mrs. Cornwall Barry Wilson: "Please, my lady, bay a nosegav, or bestow a trifle," was the address of a pale, emaciated woman, holding a few withered flowers in-her hand, to a lady who sat on the bench at Brighton, watching the blue waves of the receding t tide. "I have no pence, my good woman," said the lady, looking up from the novel she was perusing with a listless gaze; "if I had I would give them to you." "I am a poor widow, with three helpless children depending upon rae> would you bestow a small trifle to help us on our way ?" " I have no half pence," reiterated the lady somewhat pettishly. " Really," she added, as the poor applicant turned meekly away, " this is worse than the streets of London; they should have a police on the shore to prevent annoyance." They were the thoughtless dictates of the head.? " Mamma," said a blue-eyed noy, wno was playing on the beach at the lady's feet, flinging pebbles into the sea, " I wish yon had a penny, for the poor woman does look hungry, and you know that we are going to have a nice dinner, and you have promised me a glass of wine."? The heart of the lady answered the appeal of the child, and with a blush of shame crimsoning her cheek at the tacit reproof his artless words conveyed, she opened her reticule, placed halfa-crown in his tinv hand, and in another moment the boy was bounding along the sand on his errand of mercy. In a few seconds he returned, his eyes sparkling with delight, and his features glowing with health and beauty, "Oh! mamma, the poor woman was so thankful, she wanted to turn back, bnt I would not let her, and she said, " God help the noble lady, and yoa too, my pretty lamb; my children will now have bread for those two days, and we shall go on our way rejoicing." The eyes of the lady glistened as she heard the recital of her child, and her heart told her that its dictates bestowed a pleasure the cold reasoning of the head eoold never bestow. Late from Fort Kearney.?We had the pleasure last evening, of a few moments conversation with Col. Moss, who came passenger from St. Joseph on the steamer St Panl. Col. Moss left Fort Kearney, on the Plains on the 25th of last month. Up to that time six hundred California wagons had passed, and between five and six hundred were yet to arrive* The emigrants, generally, were getting along frell; the grass was fine and water abundant, ana igrati m full one month earlier than last year. Jerome and Hanson's train passed Fort Kearney .1 1 - 11 11 al J X on trie l'/tn ultimo, an wen. Alexanders train was met on the 11th instant on the Little Blue. Each train had lost one man from sickness, Col. M. who by the way, appears to be a man of intelligence, estimates the whole number of ^migrants starting across the plains, in round numbers, at 70,000, independent of 10,000 to 12,000 Mormons destined for Salt Lake. The ivheel-barrow man arrived at Fort KearnevaOout the 15th ult where contracted for the transportation ot twenty-tive pounds 01 ireigni for Fort Laramie, for which he was to receive one dollar per pound. St. Louis Intelligencer June 14 Ante si an Wells.?The celebrated Dr. Buckland recently delivered a lecture in London on thoaBubject of Artesian wells. A real Yrtosian well is one that is constantly overflown?r, either from its natural source or from an irtificial tube. It is stated that there are from 250 to 300 of these wells in London, but the loetor contended that one-half of them ought lot to be called by that name, as the water did lot rise to the surface in them. On one well, ?ighteen or nineteen thousand dollars had been ?xpended, and yet the water did not rise within eighty feet of the surface. He contended that these wells could not supply London with water, but an adequate supply might be obtain?d from the Thames by the tapping it at Henby and carrying it into London in an open iquaduct. The Jacksov Statue.?We, on Saturday [says the Washington Republic ) made a call upon Mr. Mills at his studio, to inquire respectngthe health of himself and his bronze horse. Mr. M. reported favorably respecting his own I...* ...a n<ui on?ir (n lo-irn tliat b?a stnt. v JOI1UIUOII, IHIlUCttlCCHniJ ?.*? ...v W... jq is in statu quo. He is not yet supplied with lie metal to he melted down for the purpose, md must await the action of Congress upon the subject. There is, near our city, a large quanitv of pieces of ordnance, condemned long since, that would answer the purpose, hut they nay not he so used without the formalities of i Congressional appropriation. We feel a good leal of interest 011 this subject, for we are well issurod the statue of Jackson will reflect honor lpon the genius of our talented countryman and lo credit to the taste and patriotism of those vho mav aid him in his present meriteriou s ef "ort. A crowing hen and a whistling woman are r?rt* fit frt kn Irnnt fllmilt ft hoUEO.