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III If# I||f?l#,'t1 r^lTtH#'tfT 1##^^ EVOTES TO LITERATURE, THE ARTS, SCIENCE, AGRICULTURE, MEWS, POLITICS, &C., MT TERMS?TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM,] "Let it be Instilled Into the Hearts of your Children that the Liberty of the Press is the Palladium of all your Rights."? Juniu*. [PAYABLE IN ADVANCE VOLUME C?NO. 43. ABBEVILLE C. II, SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 25, 1859. WHOLE NUMBER 203 From Dickens' Household Words. A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR. There was oncc a child, and he strolled bout a good deal, and thought of a number of things.?He had a sister who was a child too, and liis constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the flowers, they wondered at the height and bhieness j of the sky, they wondered at the depth of tho bright water, they wondered at tlio goodness and the power of God who made tho lovely world. They used to say to one another some- j times; "Supposing all the children upon ! earth were to die, would tho flowers, and j the water, and the sky bo sorry ?" They j believed they would be sorry. "For," said j thoy, "the buds are the children of the ! flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down tho hillsides, are the children of the water, and the smallest bright specks, playing at hide and seek in tho sky all j night, must surely be tho children of the i stars, ami they would all bo grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more. There was one clear shining star that used to conic out in the sky before the rest^ near the church spire, above the graves. It ! was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever saw it first, cried out* "I see the star!" And often they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it that before laying down | in their beds, they always looked out once again to bid it good night; and when tbev were turning round to sleep they used to Bay, "God bless the star !" But while she was still very young?oh, Tery. very young?the sister drooped, and | came to be so weak that she could no long- ( er stand in the window at night, and then j the child looked sadly out by himself, and ( when he saw the star, lutned round and said to the patient pale face on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile would come ( upon the face, and a little weak voice used to nay, "God bless my brother and the slur!" And so the time all came too soon ! ; when the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed ; and when there was a little grave among the graves, ' not there before, and when the stars made I long rays down toward him as be saw it ' through his tears. v? ? 1 lmubu I aj o ucto au ui "?u vuvj ^ seemed to make such a shinning way from earth to Heaven, tliat when tho child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the star, and dreamed that lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the start opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more 6uch angola waited to receive them. All these angels, who were waiting turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon tho people's neck and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy. But tliere was many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had laid upon the bed was glorified radiant, but his heart found out his sister's among all the host. His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither: "Is ray brother come?" And he said "No" She was turning hopefully awav, when the child stretched out his arms and cried, "Ob, sister, I am here! Take me !" and then she turned her beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his tears. From that hour forth the child looked out npon the star as on the home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of bis sister's angel gone before. ^here was a baby born to be a brother to the child ; and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken a word, he stretched bis'tiny form out on his bed, and died. the child dreamed of the opened ir, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with (heiribeaming eyes all turned upon those people1? faces. , | ? "Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my1 brother come f And he said, "Not that one, but an* ? tA*the child beheld his brother's angel in bar >irms, he cried, "Oh, sister, I am here t Takfenfe!" And aba returned and smiled upon biro, and the star was shining. lie grow to bo ft young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him and said, "Tliv motlier is no more. I bring her blessings on her darling son I" Again at night he saw tlio star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader. ''Is mv brother come f" And he said, ''Thy mother!" A mighty cry of joy went forth through nil the star, because the mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and cried, "Oh, mother, sister, anil brother, lam beru? Take me?" And they answered him, "Not yet;" and the star was shilling. lie grew to boa man, whose hair was turning gray, and ho was silting in his chair by the fireside heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again. Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?" And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter." And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and lie said, "My daughter's I read is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neek, and at her feet theie is the liaby of old time, and I can bear tlie parting froin her, God be praised ?" And the star was shining. Thus the child came to be an old man. and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lav upon (lis bed, his children standing round, he cried, as had cried so long ago, "I see the I'ar." They whispered to one another, "ho is lying." And he said, "I am. My age is falling rrom me like a garment, and I move to ward the star as a child. And oh, my "ather, I thank thee that it has so often jptMiiMj 10 receive iiiose aear ones wuo now iiwait me?" Ami the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave. Eye Sight. Milton's blindness was the result of overwork and dyspepsia. One of the most ottiiiient American divines having, for some time, been compelled to forego the pleasure of reading, lias spent thousands of dollars in vain, and lust years of time, in consequence of getting | in l i lip owicuii iii'iu c* wium U aiuuj ilij; by artificial light, llis eyes never got well. Multitudes of men and women have made their eyes weak for life, by tho too free use of the eyesight in reading small print and doing fine sewing. In view of those things, it is well to obsevere the following rules in the use of the eyes: Avoid all sudden changes between light and darkness. Never begin to read, or write, or sew, for several minutes after coming from darkness to a bright light. Never read by twilight, or moonlight, or of a very cloudy day. Never read or sew directly in front of the light, or window, or door. It is best to have tins liglit fall from above I obliquely over the left shoulder. Never sleep so that, on first waking, the e ves shall open on the light of a windotf. Do not use the eye-sight by light so scant that it requires an effort to discriminate. Too much light creates a glare, and pains and confuses tho sight. Tho moment you are sensible of an effort to distinguish, that moment cease, and take a walk or ride. As tlie sky is blue and the earth green, it would 6eem that the ceiling should be a bluish tinge, and the carpet green, and the walls of some mellow tint. The moment you are instinctively promp ted to rub the eves- that, mmnnn* CMCO "v. ing (liem. If the eyelids are glued together on wak* ing up, do not forcibly open them ; but apply the saliva with the finger?it is the speediest diluent in the world?then wa?h your eyes and face io.warm water.?Hull's Journal of Health. ^ ? A Quaker lately popped the question to a fair Quakeress, thus: "Hum?yea, and verily, Penelope, the spirit urgeth ami moveth me wonderfully, to beseech thee to cleave unto me, flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone 1"' "Hum?truly, trulj.Obediah, I^AII * tuvu nonw ??"OCIjt omu, mm llirtBIIIUri) 88 It i? not good to be alone, I will sojourn with tbee I" Capt. John Travis, the great pistol bhot has gone to Huntsville, Ala., to display his skill in the use of that weapon. He proposes, at the place named,among other exploits, to shoot at a half dollar in the bands of a boy who travels with bim. We have heard, in onr days one of the first counsel at the bar mention that on one oooaaioit, he had called a^the shop of the elder Sugden, when the latter, In the course of some familiar small-talk of which barbers are so fond, remarked, "I've sent my son to be a lawyar, sir, I hope no offense, but I've tried bim at my own profession, and be hadn't tbe genius for it. TNOIDENTS OF THE MEXICAN CAMPAIGN, DV A MEMBER OF THE I'ALMKTTO REGIMENT. Incidents of the March to Jalapa, AM) BATTI.E OK THE CF.nitO GOItllO. On the morning of tlio 171li of April, Gcti. Quitman's Itrigadc was ordered to march for Juhipn, with a view of concentrating all the avuilnlile forces of the army in the vicinity of the Cerro Gordo. Our tents were taken down and placed in the transportation wagons together with our camp kettles, provisions. i . 11.111 I o. ,....11 ?.1.1 !.. I--. I last time we ever saw them. It was stated h^soine that the wngons broke down, and by others that our tents were thrown out to make room for our officer's baggage, which :3 all I know about the matter. | From the village of Virgnra, tlie road debouched to the left, and passes several streams in succession spanned by bridges of solid masonry. I5.yoiid the water courreS, the country gradually ascends and the road passes over immense hills of loose sand, covered ".villi a dense ' foliage. At .1 distance of seven miles from the Gulf and several hundred feet above Vera Cruz, we entered upon a prairie of varied and . beautiful land-capes. At. 12 o'clock we brought U|> at a stock f.irui entirely deserted; 011 the premises was a well, sunk through tlie lime stone rock of fabulous <l?;|iili. Now its Apparatus was destroyed, ami its shaft partially filled in with timber ; we were RuflVrii g for water at the time which the dust and insupportable heatof the sun greatly served to aggravate. In the afternoon we with joy descried a settlement looming iu the distance, where probably we could find a stream or well of water. A native stood l>y the door of a hut dealing it out to all that came. These people keep supplies of water in their houses iu large barrels or jars, that it may become cool and purified. The (Nopal) or common prickly pear with us. an insignificant plant, iu this climate attains the size and beauty of a large tree. I have seen several which would measure three ft-et around their trunks. The natives call lite fruits Tocoruit; they not only eat the fruit, but also the tender leaves of the young trees. These plants tre now in full bearing, and four crops ure sent forth annually. The fruit is delicious and nothing couH possibly compare with it in flavor. The country now changes iU aspect, and on this side, and on that are I sunken spots ; the dry beds of la C3 and ponds. The woods present forests of palm and our own I'almetto ; the former now in the sea son of bearing, and hanging to their lower limbs are bunches of nuts, which if taken off would reach a bushel each. After a most fatiguing march of 15 miles, we | halted at a place calledSunta Fe on the bunks of thu St. John's river. It was late in the evening when the column closed up, and many wagons had broken down which occasioned delay. A little while before we came up. the ad vanced guard of Tennessee mounted men had a brush with some Guerrillas, who were in ambush at the bridge. The Tennesseans had two men slightly wounded. The Lancers got the worst of it us usual, nnd were glad of tlie opportunity of leaving as soon as possible. In the mean time we discovered two dead bodies of our men, belonging to some of the advanced divii>ionsof the arniv. who had been wav-lnid. shot end robbed. Wc buried llieoi, tluit is we dug up Bvmo dry dirt and covered them partially. April 18lb.?\V"e are ordered to remain in camp for the day, for what purpose I should not. This '-ntirc* country is said to belong to the estate of Gen. Santa Anna, which is known as the Manpo Jc Clavo, from a fragrant slubber}-. growing spontaneously in the vicinityI thought it was a species of Verbena. Du ring the da}* some of the mounted men paid a visit to the General's residence. They described the building ns being a very elegant affair, with fl.tors of polished marble. They brought with them on their return a wooden leg of ilie General, as a memorial of their visit. We enjoyed some rare sport in fishing for cat-fish ; we could see them in numbers in the deep clear water, as they were not shy. Tho3e who could not raise the proper kind of a hook, substituted a pin in its stead and all were abundantly rewarded for their enterprise. During the day some very important discoveries were made with regard to certain insects, whether they were bugs, worms or miscrocopic aniiimlcultc, 1 could not determine. The first intimation we had of their presence was a woeful pain in the heels and loes of our feet. Upon further examination we found the greater part the flesh gone, and iu its stead were deposited scores of minute ovaries. After pressing them out a few times the wounds in my case soon healed up. But how long they would have continued their ravages, but for his timely remedy I am unable to say, JTO. 2. paid they were worse ^Hyn any cancer, and would cat up a live man in hulf the time. Having dispatched a hearty meal of such luxuries as chaoce so opportunely offered we spread our blankets onee more in the shade of the tropics for a abort siettaIn the mean time another entertainment was in store for us, not on our bill of fire. The arrival of an express brought the intelligence of Geo.Scott's great victory at the Cerro Gordo ; a mountain pass 60 miles from Vera Cruz. April 19th.?resumed our march with lighter spirits and renewed vigor. We crossed the river over a beautiful bridge of solid masonry. In proximity to this, water course, are magni6cent forests, which cover this country with perpetual foliage. Anon, we itruie vaiieys carpeted wnn luxuriant Or amino, and sprinkled with horses and horned cattle almost wild ; and now emerging from scenery, ever wild and beautiful, we approach a country barren and sterile, from the lotal absence of moisture and longeontinued droughts. Most couspiouous among the tinted shrubbery, are trees laden with fruit not unlike our common plum. We ate them as a grateful luxury, and found relief from the pangs of protracted thirst. In the afternoon the country began to assume a more fertile appearance, conveying the impression that we w?#e in the vicinity of water, and we were sot disappointed, for a two mil* drag, brought as to bold stream, its course being marked by those noblo forest* only realized in tlic tropics. While we were rcclining in the shade, tin* Mexican officers made prisoners at Ccrro <jonl?, passed by under a strong escort of V. S. D. From the stream wo travelled over a road beautifully macadamised, the country gradually assendiny and still barren. We have not seen a human habitation to-day. At 3 o'clock I*. M., we came to a village of well constructed houses, situated on the bank of n large stream, J'anso </'. Ofi'jos. l'rom the village we ascended 15IHJ feet in the distance of two miles, when wc were landed on mi immense tnlil-nn Tl... road was dug in the inouiitaiii side and walled in right ;und left. We saw here another dead hodv, the victim t?f Guerrilla warfare. Kartlier on we passed several more dead bodies. They had nothing on but shirt and pant*, with the pockets turned out. These men evidently belonged to the Northern regiments. I j saw one that I know had on the uniform of : that section ; if men lingered behind iu the j villages and drank Mexican whiskey, Uioy were either killed on the spot or v.'ay-laid afterwards. I don't say that these men did this, hut, I knew others wlia did get tipsy and demeaned thcms.dVes accordingly, who never joined our ranks again. These things occurred 011 every subsequent march ; I have been inilf.i behind on the march and I was unvariably treated civilly, because I never gave the natives cause for personal revenge. Karly in the iftcrnoon wo terminated our days march at the Antigua Uiver, Pucntas Nacional. The bridge is a noble structure thrown some throe hundred yards across the stream ; this road from Vera Cruz to the Capitol was constructed 100 years nt?o, by a company of ! merchants at a cost of $3.00ii,Cl<J0. At tlie mouth of tli is river Ferdinand Cortez first landed and commenced n settlement called " the rich city of the true crors The river in its descent pusses deep down the elitfs and ledges of the rocks wild and abrupt, which in this season of perpetual summer, areevcr adorned with many plants and (lowers holli rare and beautiful, llere an artist might sit and sketch the beauties of nature in their wildest mood, and hurinoniously blend their.'sterner parts with the music of the waterfalls*; and perhaps fall asleep in the mean tiuic as 1 am now ubuutto do. (fo ee continued.) ^ How to Tell. a Lawyer.?A few days since a gentleman, being beyond tho limits of his neighborhood, inquired of a pert negro if the road lie was travelling led to a certain place. Cuflee y:tve the required -information, but seemed curious to know who the stranger was, and his occupation. For the fun of the thing the traveller conrinded to humor ebony a little, and the following dialogue ensued : "Mv name is , and as to the business I follow, if you are at all smart, you can guess that from my appearance?can't you tell that I am a timber culler?'' "No, boss, you no timber cutter." "An overseer, then ?" "No, sir, you no loolc like one." "What say you to mv beini? a doctor?'1 "Don't think so, boss, (ley lido in Sulky." 44Well, liow do ycil think I will do for a preacher ?" "t sorto 'spools you is dnt, sir." "Pshaw, Cuffoe, you are a greater fool than I took you for?don't I look more like a lawyer than anything else?" "No, sir-ree, Hob, you don't dat." "Why, Cuffee?" "Why, now you see, boss I's been rid in1 wid you for a mile, and you haint cusscct any, and you know lawyers ulieays cusses." Gold.?Wo saw on Moiulay last n beautiful mill rich l?f troM un Kit ? ..Kil l i ? ! ?? y "j ovmiim j upon ii fail-in about sevf-n miles from Lit in pluce. There wi.tc three jiiec.-*, wh ieh had seemingly been cut from each oilier in order to getth? rock out, arid weighed about 'J7 pennyweights. Being pure gold, without any observable impurities of rock or gravel, they sold for near their value, $25. This is perhaps the largest nugget of gold ever found in our State. Laurennvitlc Herald: ^ > ? Cellars.?There ought to be do cellai in any family dwelling. The house should be one or two feet aliove the ground with f trench around it a foot deep, so that the surface of the earth immediately under the floor sould be always kept dry to the depth oft-*veral inches, and there should be open spaces in the "under pinning," so as to allow a free circulation of air at all times. i ? A glutton of a fellow who was dining al a hotel, in the course of the battle of knive! and forks, accidently out his mouth, which was observed by a Yankee opposite, who bawled out?" I say Mister, don't make that hole in your countenance any larger, or we shall all starve." Robert Hall did not lose hi# power 01 retort even in madness. A hvpobritical coiiuoicr wiui ins mi^iorinneH once viniefi him in tlio innd-house, and said, in a winning tone, "What brough you here, Mr, Hall?" Hall significantly touched hi* brow with his finger, and replied, "What'll nevei bring you, sir?too much brain." Family all gathered around a cosy fire Affectionate littleftlaughter with ear ache, in deep reverie, "Mother." saysshe, "my ear? have gone to where I have never been !' "Where to, my child ?" asked the fond mother. "To aching" (Aiken,)wan her rc ply. Mother looks with profound attoniab' ment at her precocious daughter. A gentleman passing through one of the public offioas/was affronted by some of tb? clerks, and was advised tp oomplain of it to tb? principal, which he did thus: **1 bave been abMed by tome of -the rascals of this place, nnd I oome to aaauainl you of it, as I am told you are the prioeipalV [Full TIIU IKItKI'KMtENT rntSS.] Tho Home that I left Long Ago. II V MR*. ABUT. I dreamed that I paused by n thick, waving WOO'l, And a glen with wild Roses o'ergrown, 1 wandered through green, moasy paths, till I stood Uy the dwelling Mint once was inv own. Aroutid it the ivy still lovingly twined ; The streamlet still murmured In-low ; Again was I welcomed by friends true and kind To the Home tlmt I left long ago. I need not the soft soothing spell of the night, To bring this loved spot to my eyed; In gaily decked mansions, illumined with light I see tin: fair Phantom ariar; And oft, amid beautiful fountains and bowers, Ill the lands where tlm orange-trees blow, 1 sigh P.>r the meadows, the brooks and the llu\t"er3 Of the Home that I left long ago. O'er memory's mirror no shadow lialh come To dim thut dear dwelling of love ; Yet hope ever points to a glorious Home, Of brightness and gludness above, My thoughts calmed and chastened, depart not in quest Of the gauds that the world can bestow ; Then blaine not my weakness, if sometimes they rest Osi the Home that I left long ago. ^ m A Word To Young Men. If* ..111 I <? m c wow i nave a woki wiui some 01 these young men who are just taking the initiatory degrees in a course of life, which, if well followed, must speedily bring them to disgrace anil ruin. We would beg them to stop while it scarcely requires an effort. They may imagine that their pecadillos are unknown outside of their companions, and that they are suffering nothing from . these indulgences lint they are vastly mistaken. "A man is known by the company lie keeps." An esteemed contemporary, the Baltimore Patriot, and on this subjects, remarks that if a lad of twelve and upwards is generally found in the company of his sisters and "cousins," and associating and affiliating with the gentler sex accompanying them to lectures and places of rational amusement and instruction, mixing in the social and domestic circle?found at all times participating in the agreeable hearth entertainments, but above all, habitually in the house of worship on the Lord's day, it is proof positive that such an ohe will grow up to be respected bv everybody?will be h useful and valuable citizen in society, and ten to one become a consistent Christain in all his walk and conversation. On the other hand, let this youth habiluallv associate with the rowdy el uses?run with the "mesheen" ?smoke in the streets?shun female society ?tipple at the low grogeries ?use profane language?absent himself C ?1 . .1 1 I ..Til f. I iroui ui? ^ancillary, anu now long win 11 ue bulb re his name will be in ihe police nnnnls and appear in tlio daily journals among the arrested and convicted. Like begets like, and effects follow causes as certainly a3 the rising and setting of the sun. We do not say that evcfry boy who attends the Sabhalh School when quite young will, invariably, become a good man and useful citizen ; but we do say, that if a boy will continue to walk in the path suggested in the foregoing part of this artic le, he cannot fail to become a good man. These Sundayschool boys who ,;turn out bad.'* have done so because thov are not dutiful. Thevfre qucnt the schools under a sort of necessity placed upon tliem by llieir parents lo get tlierii from llieir government?not that thev are as anxious for their ultimate good so much as to bo relieved from the care of them at homo?hence, "away to tho Sabbath School." Parents of such are often forgetful of their responsibility to their children, and too regardless of the fatal consequences 1 .likely to result from this negligence on their part. 13ut this is only the eieeption to the rule, and we repeat, that if proper attention . is paid to youth in the cultivation of their moral and social qualities, which rcievc the approval, nt least of all well thinking persons, the chances are as a thousand to one, that the man will be law abiding and trust wuituy hi an lulling. 1 This theory, then, being true would it not : bo well for parents and pastors, teachers nhd 1 taught to more direct attention to this subject than they have ever beforo done? 1 We have lectures on music and science, philosophy and physic, ill of which are right and proper, but how seldom is it that the moral education and training of youth t is discussed ? In the literary institutions i every regard is paid to the cultivation of 1 the head, and every endeavor strained to see \ who will recieve the highest diedal at commencement day ; while the heart culture is almost if not altogether neglected. The boy from the graduating class with a shining I medal hanging from his button bole, to go I forth into the world of temptation and de. ceit, unprepared to meet and successfully re. sist allurement. Indeed, his education has r been more to fit his mind, to obtain the re wards, than to prepare hiimolf for the faithful discharge of duty in the use of the means to insure the reward. He for' gets that a boy gradually grows to be the i man, and the man to be great and good? ' that the really admirable is not in the tinI sal and trappings. but iikthe mind and heart, > gradually and judiciously educate to dbow * forth the exterral that which is. good in the internal It is well and truly said that. Worth makes the man, * The want of itths/aUoto i Sqdigsbt was once asked by a roung,aspirant for literary fame, wb^t be should eat to make him think. The joker recomment ded a red pepper; whieb the aspirant swaU * lowed, and icsttedfaiely tbotlgm?-of wither. Anonymous Journalism. Newspaper writers in France are required to aflix their signatures to tlieir published articles. It is the opinion of many that this regulation, which in France is a compulsory measure of imperial policy, might well be ? xtoi d d, not by law, but by voluntary custom, to the wings of journalists every where. There are very lew things, if anything, in which it would not be equally honorable and profitable for men to lake the responsibility of all .statements made and opinions expressed by them. '1'he plea in defence of all coticcalmnt is expediency, and surely, expediency is but a poor substitute for honest candor. 'There are no mysteries with honest men,' says Sheridan ; and wo doubt whether right can ever be so much in subjection to wrong as to be under the necessity of lighting it with its own weapon of deception. A signed article appears boldly, with all tliQ authority, and no more than the authority conferred upon it bv the name appended to it. If it be true and meritorious, its author recieves jusi praise; aim 11 11 nc laise or slanderous, or in any way coiiteinptable, its author, and no oilier, reeievcs his just reward of contempt; or, if need bo, legal punishment. An anonymous article is like an anonyinous letter?a stab in the dark, instead of an open challenge, if in disparagement of its subject; and, if ir. praise, ineffectual at.d unserviceable, as having no credit nor responsibility. Very often newspaper and magazine articles recieve a degree of attention which they may not deserve, because supposed to be writ ten by some favorite writer; and, oil the other hand, articles of great merit fail to attiact attention, simply because attributed lo authors of inferior ability. All such misjudginent would bu at once avoided by the adoption of a custom of placing the responsibility of good or bad writing where it belongs, by publishing in all cases the name of the writer. Literary histoiy present numerous illustrations of the injury of literary concealment, not only to poor authors, but to literature itself. Many an obscure writer has wasted on the desert air, the sweetness of the flowers of his mind, when, if known as the author of even a single verse or line of promise, he might have planted the paradise of unilving thought an ever-blooming tree for the intellectual delight of all succeeding ages. The merit of Virgil's first poetical effort, anonymously published, was, /or a time, ap propriated bv another. "Thus, ye bees," said the poet, in his retort on the bold plagiarist, "do ye gather honey, but not fur yourselves." Who can toil how much injustice has been done; and how much has Iteen lost to the world of mind in the misappropriation of the great thoughts and words of others ?? Washington Globe. Tom strikes Dick over the shoulders with a rattan as big as your little finger. A lawyer, in l?is indictment, would tell the story as follows: ? "And that whereas the said Thomas, at the said place, on the year and aforesaid in and upon the body of the said Richard against the people of the State of Pennsylvania, ahd its dignity, did make a most Violent assault, and inflicted a great many, and divers blows, kicks cilfls, thumps bumps, contusions, gashes, hurls, wounds damages, and injuries^ in and upon tlu head, neck, breast, stomach, hip?, knees, shins and heels of said Richard, with divers sticks, canes, poles, clubs, logs of Wood stones, daggers, dirk?, swords, pistol^ cul lasses, bludgeons, blunder bussess, a?u boarding pikes, then and there held in th< I hands, fists, e.lavVs, and clutches of him, tlx j said Thomas J" | A census of the population of Rome hai j just been completed, from which it appear! j that the total of the inhabitants is aboui one bundled and eighty thousand thret hundred fthd fifty-seven?a figure at about which the city has remained for the last tw< hundred and hlty years m m " Tnking ilu*ni one with another," saic; the Rev. Sidney Smith, " I believe mj congregation to be most exemplary observers of tho religious ordinances; for tht poor keep all the fasts, and the rich all tht feasts. Nearly all the suicides in this country are by foreigners. Yankees rarely, if ever make away themselves; for nearly even one thinks he has a chance of becoming President, and at any-^rate, his curiosit) prompts him to livo on, just to sco what Ik will come to. < ? An awkward man attempting to carve t goose, dropped it on the floor. " There, now '."exclaimed his wife, "we'v< lost our dinner." " Oh, no, my dear," Answered he, u iti safe; I have got my foot upon it." Tue Western New York papers record the marriage, at Plattsville, on the 10th inst at 7-2 P. M. of John Bivens and Miss M A. Turk, and in the same issue nnnunoe th< death of the bride at 0 o'clock on the sarai evening, of hemorrhage of the lungs. The Senate of New York, has passed i bill prohibiting the admission of boys in tbi New York Theatre# when unaccompanied Doob of every kind, setters, pointers, bulk Newfoundlads, mastiffs, and terriers, are al lap dogs?when drinking. A year and a half ago, four young ladie; in Cincinati, were married at the same houi Two have ?ii>pe seperated from their but bands, and tbe other two are trvinr* in am ' ' J "'9 ? O sdpfirfttod* ^ i ? Rnntifios wrote a letter to his lore, And filled it full of warm ajjd-keen deairc He hoped to raise a ltarae~and-?o he did Tbe lady pot his aonsaoM ia tha flfet Mr. Spurgeon?His Sermons. Peihaps no divine, and certainly none bo young, lias occupied so much of the publio mind within the past year or two on both sides of the Atlantic, as lias Mr. Spurgeon, a Baptist minister of London. For some time past he has been expected on a visit (o the United Slates, and our readers will no doubt be interested in the following by one who heard him preach and visited him at home. It is from the Foreign correspondence of tho North Carolina Presbyterian : Since mv arrival in London I hare had tho pleasure of hearing Mr. Spurgeon twice, and have also had the privilege of a private innmew witi? mm. l hist heatd bun in Music Hall, in Surry Garden, on which occasion the congregation probably numbered nine thousand, and though the services lasted about an hour and a half, I saw net a single individual leave the house until they closed, though there were probably two thousand or more standing the whole tiuie. Every eye seemed to be fixed upon the speaker, and the vast congregation seemed fully to realize that they had met for a holy purpose. | The sermon was not what would generally be called eloquent. It was not very logical, nor did it abound in figurative language; aud there was nothing liko vehemence in its delivery. But I have rarely board a more impressive discourse. It contained the very marrow of the Gospel, conveyed in language that a child could perfectly comprehend, aud what seemed to ma of the most importance, the speaker seemed determined that his hearers should understand that ho was addressing them individ ually. There is a point of manner and n quiet earnestness in his delivery, combined wilh some originality of expression, which arrests nnd holds the attention of every hearer. In his prayers one cannot but feel that ho istaddressing a present God. His tone is subdued and conversational, as if addressing the Uoly One, face to face, yet full of lowly reverence and deep humanity. In the brst sermon I heard from him, , there was nothing to create a 6mile; but in the second, which was preached to his own people, a large portion of whom are of the lower classes, there were soma ex' pressions which would be distasteful to a I more cultivated audience. For instance, speaking of Christians becoming vain, he remarked that a number of his people bad manifested a good deal of solicitude qn his account, and assured him that they prayed that the attention he received would not make him vain, though they were, at the same time so stiff that they could not bend their knees without taking out their back bonpRi I could not but feel thankful after hear* ing that God had raised up such a man? For three years ho has continued to collect a larger congregation than, perhaps, could be drawn together by any one individual in the world ; and yet it is generally conce . (led tlint lie is not a man of vurv extraordi> nary ability. Hundreds of preachers of . the Gospel have equal powers, and yet no " one can draw such a congregation from 1 every class of society. Is there not much 5 reason to fear that too much attention is ; gi ven to the prepcration of pulpit csflay*, that too great effort is made to preach fine sermons, elaborate discourses, and that . there is much too little of simple clear and t, strnight-forward Gospel teaching? J I felt after hearing Mr. Spurgeon as porlinps many others have felt. What it to ) I _ i I i _ _ r i r ijiiiucr uuiiureus 01 clergymen irom preacning as great sermons as he? Let tbem lay | aside tiieir manuscripts and ure as be does, ' the simplest Anglo-Saxon words, and ' deliver them in the same earnest and point' ed manner and I doubt not they will pro* duce something of the same impression. A PRIVATE INTERVIEW. ' I was very mueh pleased with what I saw of Mr. S. in. private. I was particularr ly impressed by bi6 simple hearted earnest piety, and much gratified to find him diei posed to acknowledge that there was mueh more zeal among other bodies of Christians k his own, especially in the Established, Church, of which I bad been inclined to ) think he bad a low opinion. lie told mo that most of his sermons were prepared in s fifteen minutes, and that he rarely ever spends as much as an hour on one discourse. I He says be makes great use of the old dv> < vines, and can sometime makes a balfdo*en sermons out of as many of their pages. TTo tioa a tforn arw?AAnlvl? 3 **v ?UIJ ngivoovio lUtlllllCI IU HKP social circle and a bright boyish face, an? seems to be blessed w1(b a splendid phjrsr9 cai constitution. Ordinarily be feel* strong enough to preaob thirteen sermon# a week one of which is always published, bejqg | taken down at the time it is preached bjjp 4 stenographer. He seems aoxious to make a visit to Amerioa, but is unwilling to takfp '? London till his large new church & *?rrfjf * Some evenings since be bad a tea-drieltfag t in his obapel, on wbioh occasion abOQi fewr tboutoffid dollars "trai* subscribed for tt* new building. , . < 1 ? r i- H There is a Yankee wlraee skarp,that after ueing apocket chief for a week, it is fofl of holes.