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4& We wiill cling to the Pillars of tihe Temple of our Libides, nd if It must fall, we wvill Peris mdtth un. W. IF. IDURMISOE,9 Proprietor*E GF LD CeVOL JVI.N 21.091 a"2 From the Southern E ra. THE DYING MOTHER. A MoTER lay on a bed of death But her.brow was calm the while, And a light beamed o'er her pale sweet face As pure as a seraphis smil-e; And around her couch her children knelt 'With their hearts bowed down with woe: For when their niotlier's sweet smile was gone Their home would be cold below. The mother looked on the weeping ones, And a mist spread o'er her eyes, For she thought how chill their home would be When she dwelt beyond the skies. I1er spirit longed for the realm of bliss, But a mother's love was strong ; And her dying voice stole 'round their hearts Like a sweet and solemn song. "Tis hard to say farewell, my loves, But I cannot linuer here, The angel Death on dark wing roves And his icy breatih is near; But from this world of death and gloom I go to a land of rest, And there immortal flowers bloom There dwell the pure and the blest. " Your mother oft will leave hter home And the shining gates of liss, And shield where'er her childIren roam Their souls froii the guilt of this. My loves, when 'round tny grave you stand, When twilight doth blend its dyes, I'll watch you front the spirit land Front my hone above the skies. Oh !. weep not that I leave you now, That my Saviour bids ine come, You may again behold mty brow In the an-ge's shining home Farewell! I see the angel band, Their melodious notes I hear, They call ime to that happy land Where conies no grief or tear. A pure light fell o'er the mother's face, And her spirit winged its flight, While harp and lute swell'.i a sweeter strain As it entered the realm of light. A bright cloud passed o'er the twilight sky, And fell in a silver shower Where the children knelt-the dead cold brow It crowned in that solemn hour. The children eacloud-light -fell. THE FATAL CONCEALMENT. Sons years after I conmmtenced practice but the precise date I shall, for obvious rea sons, avoid mnctiioning-I had a friend at whose house I was a cotstatit visitor. Ile bad a wife who was the magnet thait drew twe there. She was beautiful, but I shall not describe her. She was more than beau tiful-she was capivating. 1Her presetce was to me like the intoxication of opiutn. I was only happy when under its influence ; and vet, after every indulgence in the fatal pleasure_, I sank into the deeet desponden cy. In my owtn justification I must say, that I ntever, int word1 or look, betrayed my feel ings, though I had some reason to suspect that thtey were reeriprocatted, for, while itt myt, company shte was gaiy, brilliant, and witty ; yet, as I learnted fromt others, at titues she was often sadl and mieelcolly. P'ow erful-most powerful, was the temtptattion to make a dlisclosure of myt) heart, but I resisted it. That I had the firmness to do so, has been for years tmy only consolation. Onte morninig I sat alone in my chamber. Mv clerk was absent. A getleh knock was just audible at the outer door. I shouted, " Come ini!" ini no very amiable humor, for I was inidulging in a delicious reverie upon the subject of the hady' of my hteart antd the piresenice of an ordinary tnortali wias hateful. The door opetned, and lMrs. -entered. I do tnt know exactly what I (lid ; but it seemued to be a long timte before I had the piowler to rise atnd welconme her, wvhile site stood~ there with a timid blush upion her face and the glorious smile on her lips whlich madt~e tme feel that it would be too great a htappiniess to (lie for. "I dott't wvonder you are surprised to see tie here," site began with a provoking little laugh ; " but is your astonishment really too great to allows you to say "fHowt do you do?" "Perha~ps your surprise ill be itncreased," she contitnued, " whten I inform you that I have come ttpon busittess." I muttered out somuethting about not being so abmitious as to hope she would visit me for anty other motive. She took nio notice of what I said, but I perceiv~ed that her face turned deadly pale, and thait her hatnd tretn. bled as she placed before me a bunidle of papers. " You will see by these," she said in a low hturried voice, that " some property was left to me bty myv uncle, and by my grandfather, but so strictly settled that eventi encn touch nothiing but the initerest. Nowv, my hlusband is inl wantt of a harge sum of monecy at tis romttent, and I wish to examine thme affair well, and see whether by thme twisting of the la w, I can place a part of my capital at his disposal. Uninttentionally I have donte hinm a great wvrong," she added, in a totne so lov that no ears less jealous thtant mine could have caught the meaning; "and poor at this reparatton is, tt is all that I cani make, and I must do it if possible." I pretended to study the papers before me, but the light danced and mingled ; and if, by a great effort, I forced tmy eyes to distisn. guisht a wor, it conveyed not the slightest meaning to my wvhirling brain. Every drop of blood in my body seemed eutbued wtith a separate consciousness, and to be tingling and rushing to the side next to he~r, whose presence w~ithin a short distance of me, wvas ception. I hung my head to hide from her the emotion of which I was thoroughly ashamed. It may be well believed that I was in no condition to give a professional opinion; but I got over the diliculty by telling her I must have time to study the case, and promising to let her know the result. " You are a tiresome creature," she said, with a little coquettish air, " I really expect. ed that for once in your life, and for a friend, you miglit have got rid of the law's delays, and give me your opinion in half an hour; so far, at least, as to tell me whether there is a probability of my being able to do what I desire. But I see you are just like the rest of the lawyers-time! time! I suppose now you will keep about it till I am dead; and then it will go to my husband in the course of the law." " It may not require more than halfa hour to ascertain so much, when I can direct my thoughts to it for that space of time," I re plied;" and I know that the words rattled like shot out my mouth. " But would you ie so unreasonable as to require an artist to (raw a straight line while he was under a fit of delirium tremens." " You are an inicomprehensible person ;" she replied, rather coldly ; " so I shall leave you to your legal and lawful studies. But if you aregoing to have an attack of the de. lirium tremens, perhaps I had better send in the doctor. Shall I?' " Well, I don't anticipate an attack this morinug," I answered, with a. forced laugh; "sso I Will not give you the trouble. The fact is that I had been violently agitated a short time since, apd my mind has not quite recovered its equilibrium." We talked for a few minutes longer-she, quizzing me in her usual playful manner and 1 delighted to be so teazed, standing stupid aid dumb, searcely able to say a word, though very anxious to prolong the delightful moneits by keeping up the war of badinage. At length, she went to the door, and I was about to escort her down stairs, when we heard some one speaking below. " Good God !" she exclaimed, clinging, wildly to my arm ; "-hat is my husban:ds's voice. If he finds me here I am ruined." " Don't be alarmned," I replied, endeavor. ing to re-assure her; "you came here upon business, and snch business, too! He could love you all the more for it." "You don't know about this as well as I do," she said, shuddering convulsively. Hide me somewhere, for mercy's sake!" I do not know how it happened; but my aso 4 -by ie s y " I asked hastily. "I will leave the door ajar for air." "No! shut it-lock it-take away the key. or I shall not feel safe. There is plen. tv of air!" and she sprang into the recess. For one moment her eyes met mine, and I thought they beamed with deep, impassion ed love. The next, I had locked the door upon my treasure, thrown the papers she had brought into the drawer and was appa. rently busy, pen in hand, when my friend entered. He commenced in a round-about way to question me upon certain points of the law respecting marriage setinents, &c.; and, after a tedious amount of circunilocu. tion, lie gave me to understand that all this regarded a desired transfer of some property ot his wite's into his own hands. le had come, iii fact, upon the same errand as that generous creature! HeI also had a copy of her relatives' wvills, and thmere I was comn pelled to examine closely, for he was despa rately pertinacious, and would not lie put rn'. 1 was angry at the thought of wvhat his poor wife must be suffering, and felt that I co'uld have kicked her hiusb~and out of doors for keep.ing her there. A t last, he made a move as if to go. I started up, and stood readsy to bow him out. I"'So," said he, tying upl his papers with provoking deliberation, " nothing but my wife's deaith, you say, can put me mn posses. son of this money. 1 wvant it very much, but nobody will suspect ime of dlesiring her death for the sake of having it a little sooner." lie laughed at his owvn poor jest, and I made a sort of hyena chorus to it, that sound ed strange and hysterical, eveni to my own ears liewentat last, hut stoppedh again on the~ stairs, and~ dletained ine there, tlig for full five minutes longer. I felt by syim pathiy all the pangs of suffcation. My throat seemed swvolen-m'y forehead bur~sting.r G reat God ! will he dfever lbe gone ? Will he stand here gossiping about thie wveather and the generalities of thme law, wvhile his lovely wife who came here to sacrifice her indi. vidiial initerests for his sake, dies a terrible and lingeriing death! He is gone! I rush back iinto my room. A step behind makes me turn rounid. It is my clerk-curses on him! I could have stabbed hinm--shot him, beaten out his brains-hurled him headlong down the stairs. But any violeiice wvould have compromised her. In a fewv minutes my brain ivas clear agaitn. " Watson," I cried, " Mr. -has just left. He has gone up F'leet street, I thmink; run after him, and request huim to heave those papers with mue. Say to him I would like to examine them more at leasure. Run quickly, and you'll overtake him." Watson disappeared. I turned the key of the outer door, and sprang toward the closet. As I unlocked it, I remembered the look she had given me as I shut it, and I wondered, with a beating heart, whether the same expression would greet my enraptured gaze when I opened it. There she stood, with her eyes calmly fixed on mine. " You are safe, dearest," I murmered. She did not rebuke me for calling her so; and emboldened by her silence, I took her hiandl to lead her from her narrow prison. She moved forward and fell into my arms a cor se ! I cannot well recall what followed. I only kniow~ that I tried every means for her restorationi to life ; but alas ! without sue cess. Of one thing I was firmly convinced -shte had not (lied from suffocation. I had once seeni the body of a tman whlo was killed by the falling in of the mouth of a pit. I re collected his purple and swvollen face, and his lan, warm limbh. She was nale, riid. cold. The tumult of her own emotions must h:Lve killed her the noment the door was closed upon her. By some means I kept my secret from the knowledge of Watson and every one else. All that night I was trying to recover her. Then I fortimed the project of shutting her up in the closet-locking up the chambers, and going abroad for twenty years. But that idea was rejected as quick. ly as formed, for it would be hardly possible th-it the presence of a dead body in the house should not be discovered before that time. Next, I thought of setting fire to the place, burning all my books and papers, making a funeral pile of-themn; and thus ruining my. sAf to save the secret. But that thought, too, was dismissed. It might cause loss of lifle and property to many innocent people, and would be a hungling proceeding after all; as, if the fire was discovered early, police. men, firemen, mob, all would break in, and finding her body there, all would be lost for it was more to save her reputation than my life, that I was striving and plotting. In the meantime I was a prey to the most painful anxiety. I was sure that by that time she must have been missed and sought for. Perhaps she has been seen to enter my chambers. Every step that I heard, I feared might be that of a policeman. In the. morn* ing a stranger called on business. This, of course, was nothing extraordinary; but, when he had gone, I felt that lie was a detective officer, and had come as a-spy. I thrust q few clothes into a carpet-bag, intending to escape to France. I caught up a box of matches, to set the place on fire. I grasped a razor, and looked eagerly at its keen edge as the surest and swifeat wav of ending my misery. But then, all these would leave her to the jests of the world, and my owii suf ferings were nothing in comparison. At this distance of time, I can look back im partially and coolly upon that dreadful day; and I can solemnly declare, that I would rather havo been hung for murdering her, thatn to have allowed a breath to sully her fair fame. I had just laid down the raror, when a hurried step crossed the ante room. It was h r husband's: Now, I thought, all is lost. She was seen to enter here and lie has come to claim her. "Mv ear -," lie began in a nervous, unsettled way, "you remember the business that I came here about yesterday ?" "Perfectly." "And do you remember the words I used, as I was going ? .I mean, in answer to what you said about my not being ubje to toucir "My wife has disappeared since yester day morning," he continued, turning even paler than before; " and if anything shonld have happened, you know, and yon repeat thoseiexprcssions they might be liid hold of, and I don't know what would be the con sequence. I might be suspected of having murdered her." Poor fellow! If I had not known the truth, I should have suspected it myself, fromi his excessive terror and anxiety. He wiped the perspiration from his face, atd sank into a chair. The sight of a person more frightened than myself reassured me I was calmer than I had been since the pre. ceding norniny. "Where did she go? Tow was she dressed ?" I inquired, anxious to know all that I could on the subject. "Idon't know. Shte told me she w1as goitng out shopping and visitinig, but no one saw her leave the house, and none of the servants know exaetly how she was dressed. W~hen I went home to dinner, thme first thing I heard was that she had not returned.' "What have you dlone ? H ave you sent to the police and to the hospitals ?" "Yes, and to every friend anid tradesman where she w'as at al1 likely to call." "You may depend upon it," I replied, very impressively, " that I will not repeal what you said yesterday. You are right it supporing that it might tell against y'ot very much if she should be found dead un. der suspicious circumstances." lHe talked a little longer, and then we'nt tc renewv the search for his wife. H low I pre served my self-possession dunring this inter. view I do not know; so far from being~ really calm, I could have gnawed thme flesl ofi' my botnes itn my atgony. That tnighat, w~hen the doors were fasten ed, atnd [ was alone-except for the comn pany of the dead-I shut myself up in th< closet for two hours, to ascertain whiethei se died for want of air, for I distrusted m.n; own knowledge of the appearanice of suf focated persons. The place wvas well sup plied wvith air from several large crevices My first idea wvas correct-shte had die< from some other cause. When I emerged from the closet, I foum that the night u as intetnsely dark. It wna raning in torrents, and thme thumnder atm wind roared in terrific chorus. 'lThe rive wats at high tide and swollent by the rain I sat there in the dar'k upon the floor, Itod ig the col, stiflf hand of thme dead wvithil my own. I thought dreamily hmow ofteni had wvelcomed me wvith its soft pressure while her eves had beamed brightly int dimples of'delight. Now that hand thar used to lbe so plump, so full of warmth ani life, was rigid and cold-those eyes wer glazed ani ghostly, tho lips were clamm; and hard. Tears camte to my relief. wept as growvn mien seldom weep, amnd illi hearteasing gush came a new idea of escap for her and me. I was ready to believe that moment that her spirit rested upo mine and inspired the thought-for it burs upon mec sudhdenlyV, with a conviction that executed tha~t instant it would he crowne with success. Hlow could 1 otherwise hav tme termity to snatch her up in my armi carry her down stairs, at tho risk of beini ecoutered by some of the other inhab tants of thme house; beatr her through th courts, anid by a way that I know Iito th Thme river was running strong and dce against the w~all. I pressed, one kiss upr her cold forehead, and threw hem' into t11 stream. Gladly would I have gone wvi her, and held her in my heart till death: b ithe impulse was stil o-me, and without de lay I hastened back. : o one saw me, and the bearing rain effacs my foot prints. A few days after, Iw by the papers that her body had bee ound far down the river. Two years later r husband married again. He is stout al ruddy, and laughs as heartily as ever. I shall die a bachi r. I am lean and pale, and bowed, and- ray-haied, and the sound of my own lau is strange to me. I. TV dWAXTWA Y The following ma ns to marry by, ad dressed to single gent pen, are copied from a very old number of. ackwood, printed so long ago that old "1 North" must have been something of alleau at the time lie wrote them: "Now, in nmaking" 'age, as in making love-and indeed in Mking most other things-the beginni is the difficulty. But the French pr 0 about beginnings "C' t le premier pas'-i -coute"-goes more literally to the arrang ent of marriage ; as our Eliglish well illu ites the condition of love, " The first stepver, the rest easy." Because, in the marry.1 afihir, it is particu iarly the first step' th costs'-as to your cost you will find, if flstep happens to go the wronr way. And ostmen, when they go about the business . wedlock, owing to some strange delusion gin- the affiir at the wrong end. The4 ke . a fancy to the white arms-sometim. ouly to the kid gloves-or to the neal eles of a peculiar school girl; and concY. .6 from. the premises, that she is just the v, woman to scold a houseful of servan nd to bring up a dozen children! Th 'Ncivenient de duction, but not alwa W40fiie. " White arms and': ctles, bring me, unturally, at once to r important con sideration of beauty. tsdon'uppose be cause I caution you ftalay-disabili tes, that I want to U. t a worthy creature whom it u 3ou-extremely ill every time you *il,-For the style of attraction,. e es, my friends. I should sa figure if you don't get bot ..-'*s better than a merely pretty eyes are a point never to be 16 ne teeth -full, proportioned' mbh t list these away for the sahbf a s ch of -the imp es raser d epr on one th tn the other. "It may, at some time, be a matter of consideration, whether you shall marry -a maid or a widow. As to the taste, I myself will give no opinion-I like both; and there are advantages peculiar to either. If you marry a widow, I think it should be one whom you have known in the lifetime of her husband ; because, then ad adu ad posse fourm some notion of what your own will be. If her husband is dead before you knew her, you had better be off at once; because she knows (the jade!) what you will like, though she never means to do it; and depend upon it, if you have only one inch of penchani, and trust yoursell' to look at her three times, you are tickled to a certainty. Marrying girls is a nice matter always; for they are as cautions as crows plundering a corn-field. You may 'stalk' for a week, and never get near unplerceived. You hear the caterwauling as you go up stairs, into the drawing-room, louder than thunder ; but it stops-as if by magic! the moment a (marriageable) man puts his ear to the key hole.-I don't myself, I profess upon prinici ple, see any objection to marryinig a widow. If she upbraids you at any time with the virtues of her former husband, you only reply that you wish he had her with him, with all your soul. If a woman, however, has had more than three husbands, she poi sons them-avoid her. " In widow-wiving, it may be, a question whether you should marry the wvidow of an honest man or a rascal. Against the danger 'that the la:st may have learned ill tricks, they set the advantage-she will be more sensible (from the contrast) to the kindness otf a gentleman and a man of honor. I think yon should marry the honest man's widow; because, with women, habit is al -ways stronger than reason. "But the greatest point, perhaps, to be aimedl at in marrying, is to know, before rmarriage, what it is y'ou have to deal with. You are sure to know this, fast enough, af terwvards. Be sure, therefore, that you commence the necessary porquisitions be fore you have made up your mind, and not as peop~le generally do, after. Remember that there is no use in watching a woman thait von love ; because she can't do anything -do what she will-that will be disagreea blle to you. And still less in examining a woman ~1that loves you; because, for the tim, se wllbe certaini not to do ainything that ought to lie disagreeable to you. I have known a hundred perfect tigresses as paulas kittens-quite more obliging than need be-under such circumstances. It is not a bad way-maid or widow-when you find you are faincying a wvoman, to imake her Lbelieve that you have an aversion to her. II she has any concealed good qualities, they are pretty sure to come out on such an oc casion. " Don't marry any woman under twenty C-she is not come to her wickedness before that time. Nor any woman who has a red nose at any age ; because people make ob. servations as you go along the street. A 'casts of the eye'-as the lady casts it uponi you-may pass muster free under some cir cumstances-and~ I have even knowvn those who thought it desirable; but absolutt Ssquinting is a monopoly of vision whicl: ought not to be tolerated."-BLACKwooD. .0OU-r west there has been on a certain sidn hill a large hole, which is not an uncomnmon P thing in that section of the country. Thin ibank is said to have recently caved off', anc 0 left tho hole sticking out about' ten feet. at A. UL as a . enbt scandal has w1inga CHAP TOOTH-MAwnw. Cheapness, with a very large class of per sons, is ever the strongest recommendation of an article or the decisive reason for se lecting a particular agent to perform a ser vice. Such rarely enlarge in speaking of what they have bought, or had done, of the good quality of good work obtained, but on the low price at which the one or the other has been secured. As a general thing, they do not get any more than they bargain for, and in not a few cases, they receive fitr less. We heard a story of one of these cheap individuals not long since, wvhich provoked a smile. He had occasion for the services of of a dentist, who was something of a hu morist. " What do you ask for pulling a tooth?" he asked of Forceps, on entering his office. A swollen and inflamed cheek, showed that he stood in need of professional aid. " Fifty cents," was replied. "Never gave but a quarter," said the suf ferer, in as decided a voice as pain would allow him to assume. " My charge is fifty cents," returned the operator in quite as determined a manner. " Can't pay so much. Quarter is enough. You only have to put on your irons, and it is out in three seconds. Wish I had as much as I could do at pulling teeth for a quarter a piece. Come, now, friend, money is money these times. Don't you never pull teeth for a quarter ?" " Sometimes," replied the dentist, whose sense of the ludicrous was already touched, and whose natural love for a practical joke had become excited. "'Then you'll pull mine out for that price?" said the patient. "0 yes, if you wish me to do so," was answered. Down sat the patient, and the dentist was soon cutting away at his guim in the coolest and most deliberate way imaginable. " M1y gracious !" exclaimed the sufferer, so soon as the gum-cutting operation was over, " My friend, you did hurt me dread fully." The dentist now applied a pair of forceps to the offending tooth, and gave it a wrench which fairly brought the patient to his feet. "Is it out, doctor ?" was eagerly asked. "Not yet," coolly replied the dentist. "Sit down again, and I'll make another trial." So the man sat down once more, and the forceps were again applied. There was another seyere wrench, but the tooth refused "lMercy on us, doctor! Is this the way you pull teeth?" screamed the patient, as he seized the dentist's hand with a nervous grip. - " It's the way I pull teeth for a quarter," replied the dentist, with a twinkle in his eyes, which the other, even in his pain did not fail to see. "Pull mine for fifty cents, then," quickly screamed the writhing victint. " That's the way it's done," said Forceps a moment after, as with a dextrous motion of his practised hand, he removed with com paratively slight pain, the tooth from its socket, and held it up to the patient's view. The half dollar was paid, and the man departed with a dawning perception in his mind, that cheap things are, sometimes, the dearest a man can buy. 'ARD TO KEEP ROX GRUNTING. Among the many incidents connected with the battle of Buena Vista, there is perhaps not a more striking instance of presence of mind and great power of endurance than the following: S. K., a tall raw~-boned sucker wvho had fought all day through the 23d, was one of those who accomplanied Colonel Bissel in that bloody' charge, commonly called lHar din's charge. In the first fire of the enemy, K. was shot through the leg and completely disabled, his leg being terrib'ly shattered. Our men who were engaged in this charge being but a small handful, were overwhelmed great nutmbers of Mexicans, a nd con seqnent ly comp~elled to retreat precipitaitely, leaving the wounded'to the tenider mercies of the generous hearted Mexicans, who wiere never known to spare a wounded soldier when thrown into their power. K. seeing our men leaving. aiid the enemy app1roatchmg rapidly, thought it about time to make his will, for, as lie afterwards expressed hiinselW, they were about to get his note, or rather his bacon. Believing that the Mexicans would instantly nwirder him if they found life in him, he pulled out his purse of money and laid it as far from him as possibile, and laid a rock upon it. No sooner had lie hid his money than the Mexicans rushed upon him and commenced a search for money, he holding his breath at the same time and pre tending to be dead. They soon concluded their search by turning over the stone under which the money lay. The wretches then eommenced wreaking their vengeance upopn the poor fellow, by thrusting their bayonets into his breast and side, and then by beating him over the head with the buts of their mus kets, until poor K. was horribly mangled. After the battle wvas over lie was found al most dead. Fortunately none of his wounds were mortal. T1he wvritcr, wvho wvas aii m mate at the hospital at the same time with K., has heard him deCscribeO his feelings, on the occasion, as follows:--"Whenm the scoundrels caine on me I knew my onL~y chance was to play possum. 1 could stand it to have the bayonets stuck into me, but when they began beating me over the head with the butts of. their muskets, I found it darned hard to keep from grunting."-Bos ton Post. AN AFFECTIONATE SPIRT. We sometimes meet with men wvho seem to think that any indulgence in affectiontate feeling is weakness. They will return from a journey and greet their families wvith dis tant dignity, and move among their children with the cold and lofty splendor of an ice berg, surrounded with its broken fragments. Thet-e is hardly a more unnatural sight or earth than one of these families without hearts. A father had better extinguish his son'm eyes. an take awy i heart. Who thai has experienced the joys or friendship, and knows the worth of affection, would not rather lose all that is beautiful in nature's scenery, than to be robbed of the hidden treasures of his heart. Who would not rather bury his wife than bury his love for her? Who would not rather follow his child to the grave than entomb his parentalm affec tion 1 Cherish, then, your heart's best affections. Indulge in the warm and gushing emotions of filial, parental, fraternal, love. Think it not a weakness. God is love. Love every thing and everybody that is lovely. Teach your children to love; to love flowers, to love the birds, to love their parents-to love their God. Let it be the studied object of your domestic culture to give them warm hearts and ardent affections. You cannot make the cords of love too strong; and be assured that in nuturing the principles of affection, you are insuring the principlef virtue. From the Shelbyville (Tenn.) Expositor. CHALETON-SOUTERN TRADE. The near completion of the Nashville and Chattanooga Rail Road, brings Charleston in close proximity to our State, inseparably uniting and blending our interests with theirs. Charleston is one of the -most flourishing cities in the Union. From the circumstances that surround it, it is bound to go on rapidly increasing in wealth, population, influence and importance. It will, ere a great while, be the great mart, where Sonthern produce will flow in one unbroken and increasing flood, knowing no retiring ebb; and' where the South will depend entirely for theie fab ries that they consume, which they have been purchasing at the North for the last firty years. East Tennessee Merchants, with scarce an exception, already do their trad. ing there; 3liddle Tennessee Merchants are begining to be aroused to a sense of their interests and their duty to the South, and they are directing their attention to that place; while many of our sister States de pend ahost entirely upon Charleston for their goods. Let the Nashville and Chatta nooga Rail Road but be completed, and the principal trade of Middle Tennessee will be done at Charleston. Many of our Merchants from this Division of the State-and some, we are proud to say, from our own town, have purchased their Goods there, and all that have done so, are not only pleased with their bargains and intend continuing their trade with them, but they exert their utmost influence in inducing .others,toA.d the same thing. Let our Merchants once commence trading in Charleston, and they will never again go the North for Goods. They will find the noble, generous and warm-hearted sons of South Carolina the right kind of nien-as difi'rent from the cold, calculating and seltish Yankees, as the balmy breezes of of the South are from the cold and chilling winds or the North. We have been bled long enough by these designing and selfish Yankees. A line of Steamers has been recently es tablished between Charleston and Liverpool. This is the commencement of an enterprize that noust and will make Charleston the prin. ipal importing city in the South. Let us go to work and complete our Southern At. antic Rail Roads; let us invest some of our surplus capital in manufacturing establish. ments, and devote at least a portion of our labors to the production of home supplies; let our Merchants purchase their Goods at Charleston or Baltimore ; let us do all of this, and "when lines of steamers, those ' railways of the sea'-shall connect South ra sea-board cities with Europe and the valley of the Amazon-then, and not until then," may the South throw off the comn mercial vassalage to the North, which has weighed her down to the dust, for more than fifty years." It is time we were building up ourselves-we have been building up Yan kee.dom long enough. Let us direct our energies wvhere they will be appreciated and reciprocated by wvarm- hearted, high.ton ed Southernm gentlemen. Let us build up the South ; let our charity commence at home and extend abroad, and not exhaust it from home before it gets to us. Les us establish independence at home. It is a duty that every Southerner owes to his country and to himself, to encourage and support our Southern markets, our Southern institutions and our Southerin interests. We have native resources and means sufficient to miake us the greatest people in the world, if wve will but properly direct and apply them. Upon these resources the North has been, hyena like, feasting for the last half century; they have made themselves rich, and yet we are not poor, but amply able to enrich ourselves and elevate our section of the Unibn far above theirs in ev'ery respect. Shall we (10 it ? Shall wve go to wvork and build up the South and make her the pride and boast of the nation and admnirationi of tie world ? To accomplish it, we have but to will it, and ap~ply the energy, industry, talent, genius and enterprnize that lie slum berinag in our midst, or when aroused, per. verted and directed in another channel. It is time we were becoming a little more Souternized-to coin a wvord for the ocea son. As long as wve are dependent upon the North; as long as our Southern M~er. cants continue neglecting our Southern markets and direct their trade to thme North, o long will this eternal cry of agitation bE heard ; so long will wve constantly be troubled by fanatics, abolitionists and traitors. Out Southerni trade at the North, manufactur< more fanatios and abolitionists ; creates mor< agitation than Slavery and all other cause! combined. Nine-tenths of the agitators a the North, are agitators for the sake of atgi tation. They are eternally stirring up broils raising rows, creating " Union Safety Comi mittees," and arousing and ani mating mobs all ini order to dupe Southern Merchants ini to thq. belief that they are great friends to th South, when the truth is, they are the wors and greatest enemies to the South and to th Union. Let Southern trade at the Nort cease, and wve wvill see agitation and aboli tion waning-dying out; the smoke w~hiic obscures our lgorizon vanishing into nothing n.s andair;. the noie .and cnsioin hushe and their deceit and hypocracy exposed. Their Janus-faced deceit and base hypocra cy, which they.have so long and so success fully played off upon the South, is only equal to the manner in which we have been so badly gulled. We call upon Tennessee Merchants-es pecially those that read our paper, in our own town, Fayetteville, Murfreesboro' Le banon, Columbia, Lewisburg, Manchester, Unionville, Petersburg, Lynchburg, Rowes ville, Wartrace, Tullahoma, and other places to go to Charleston or Baltimore to purchase their goods. The happy resbits will soon bo. seen and felt in the rearing up of the South, the downfall of agitation at the North, and of our increased prospeity and happi-' ness at home. Our friends should remember that Goods can be shipped from Charleston, now at small expense and with little trouble, and besides by purchasing there, they will save from a dollar to a dollar and a half on each hundred dollars in buying checks on Northern Banks, which they are compelled to do so long as they purchase there. Try Charleston. A3BOLITION NOMAL. The New York Herald, speaking of Mrs. Stowe's abolition story, " Uncle Tom's Cab in," has the following comments:. "This book is a remarkable specimen of the anti-slavery literature of the North, and its success-beyond all precedent in the his tory of works of fiction-,is an undoubted - evidence of the deep-seated anti-slavary sen timents that prevails in the Northern and Eastern States. It demonstrates that the Fugitive Slave law and the other compro mise measures have not even scotched the snake, much less killed it. Already, in eight weeks, fifty thousand copies have been sold, and it is expected that fifty thousand more will be sold ere long. The publisher and writer have both made plenty of money, and will make plenty more. The result will be, that a tremendous impulse will be given to' anti-slavery literature in the North, and the country will be inundated with novels, r,ot so well written, perhaps, as the work of Mrs. Stowe, but of the same character and tendency. The success of " Uncle Tom's Cabin" will stimulate into activity five thous and pens, and pressess of publishers, who are the most mercenary portion of the ontiri community, will henceforth teem with negro tales, and narratives of facts stranger than fiction, and stories of fugitive slaves foundd on.fact, and true in all b the names. and bookselle s 6io furnishre oithwe new works are the most decided parons of this species of literature. It is not difficult to see what the effect of this book will be which is -lready re-published in Canada, and will shortly make its appearance in England,, to stir up the fire there-and what will be the effect of other works nowin progress of composition by the same authoress, and that, like mushroons from dunghills, will spring from the hot, reeking brains of all fanatical writers in the land, who will follow in her wake, either in the hope of making money, or from the ambition of being read by so many thousands of the community, or it may be from a pure desire of glorifying God, making converts to the abolition cause, and contributing to the amalgamation of the white and black races on this continent. There is a good time coming, and we would not be surprised if, with the excitement of meetings, the agitation of organized socie ties anid lecturers, the agency of colporteurs, and the ifluence of the class of literature to which we have just referred, the boiling cauldron of abolition would ere long over flow, and produce an amount of mischief at wh'lich the stoutest heart would now shudder, if it could only realize those scenes and events whose dim shadows the sagacious and far-seeing discern as " through a glass darkly," but which may, sooner- than wve are aware, loom out of the mistf obscurity of the future into the form and pressure of present realities." TiHE AR3MY WonR3.-We havo already published the fact that this destructive inisect hats committed considerable ravages in this and adjoining counties. The following is from the Memphis Enquirer: We learni from several very reliable sources that the cut worms are doing very considerable damage to all kinds of vegeta tion in this vicinity. In some gardens thef are eating up everything of a vegetable. ni ture that is visible above ground, cabbage, corn, tomatoes, onion and potato tops, and* young plants of all kinds. Their ravages are not confined to any particular locality, but are pretty general as far as we have heard, ev-en as far as LaGrange, ir1 Fayette county. We also hear that the army wvorm is doing great damage~ in the neighborhood of Germantown, cutting down oats, wheat and the small grain, but we have not heard of it in any other vicinity of the country. [Nashville True Whig. Rin1iTs OF MARRIED Wo31EN IN INDIANA. -We learn from a statement in the Louis ville Democrat that among the reforms in lawv proposed by theo law commissioners of Indiana, is a bill regulating the law of descents, changing materially the rights of mar-ried w~omien. 'The Democrat says: " They are placed by the proposed lawv on the basis of the civil law; entitled to the communatue, or the partnership .interest in the property of the husband, instead of the dower or life estate. They hold the fee in one-third of the reality on the decease of. the husband instead of the tenancy a for. merly. The husband is restricted . from. alienation by will or deed without the con sent of the wvife of her interest provided for her by the lawv. The stern doctrines of the fathers of the common law have had their day; ;and chiv alry, which made a pet, as also a guppet, o( a woman, has yielded-tN;he~ belief that we.o 3man are neither angels 'noi devoid of com-. imon sense. Chivalry; t bread ad butteN -the last is decidedly preferable." -Nnuvan speak of natural defbcts In the Soany of the deformned