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Steuocratic 3jourual, utbotes to So tItjern Elgijts, Netus, 3outic0, de rat l utilltutet, ateatttre, jotalte, E aue, gititture, ts, "We will cling to the Pillars of the Temple of our Liborti and if it mist fall, we il Perish *&idst fhe Ruins. W. F. DURISOE, Proprietor EDGEFIELD, S. C., OCTOBER 23, 185L VOL-xvi--o THE EDGEFiLD ADVERTISER. PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY. t W. F. DVRISOE, Proprietor. a ARTIUR SIIaEINS, Editor. h T Rms..--rwo DOLLtARS per year. if raid in advance..-Two DOLLARS and FIFTY ENTS'tA not paid in six months---and TnREE DOLLARS if not paid before the expiration of the year. All subscriptions not distinctly limited at the time of subacri bing. will be considered as made for an in definite period, and will be continued until all f arrearages are paid, or at the option of the Pub. lisher. 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Onwards I come in my power and pride, With speed that I will not slack; And over every thing I'll ride Which comes upon my track, The drink I love is the boiling stream, My food is the blazing fire. And volumes of hot and scalling steam Are the breath which I respire. The fleetest courser I leave bthind, And the bird in its airy flight, The fenthered shrift and the rushing wind, I pass in ty furious ntight; The head gets dizzy, the eyes grow dim That strive my course to trace, While swift as the livid lightning's gleam I hurry along my race, Chain to my iron frame your cars, ti And mount in what number you please, No matter what burden beside they bear, I'T drag them along with ease. ,Off I will start when the morning light t] Girds the orient with its glow, And onward keep when the starless alght f, Is shading the world below. . Around the earth clear me a track, Give me my water and fire, And I the circuit will quickly make, Nor think that I scion will tire. My museles, and sinews. and nerves are brass, d My ribs of the old oak grim, And well-hantm'er'd metal nty bowels incase, And iron or steel is each litub. t A warning light is my smoky glare, V At the sound of my hissing breath It Clear from my path, for tl.e lo'teters there F Meet bruises, and wounds, and death. S For onward I come, in my pow'r and pride, 0 With speed that I will not slack, b And on to my journey's nd I'1 ride And nothing shall keep me back. ... WHO MADE THE FLOWERS? t The Atheist in the garden stood, At twilizht's pensive hour, His little daughter by his side,n Was gazing on a flower. "Oh, pick that blossom, Pa, for me," ~ The little pratler said, "It is the fairest one that blooms Within this lowly bed." n The father pluecked the chosen flower, t Atnd gave it to thte child With parted lips and sparklang tye, She seized t!te gift atnd stmiled.s " Oh, Pa--who' ttade this psretty flo.wer, Thtis little violet blue, Who gave it suchi a fragrant smell, Atnd such a lively hue ?" A change come o'er the father's brow; 11is eyes grew strangely wild ; eNew thoughts within hinm had been stirr'd By that sweet, artless child. The truth flashed on her father's mind The truth in all it power, " There is a God, my child," he said, " lir. tmade that little flower !" t I ama never Alone. 1 An old man sat in his easy cbair. He I was alone. His eyes were so ditn that he could ttot read the printed page-he had long ceased to hear any cotmmon sound, atnd it was only in broken whtisperst that he could hol4 communion wvith those around, and often hours passed by int which the silenice of his thought was not broken by an outward voice. He had outlived his generation; onte by one the companions of his boyhood and youth had been laid in the grave, until none re mained of' all those he had once known loved. Tlo thtose to whtom the future is one bright path of hope and happittess, and social love, unenviable seemed his conidition-howv cheerless his days! I htave saidl he w~as alone. A gentle and thoughtful child stole in to his silent room, and twined her arm lovingly around, his neck. " I feared you would be lotne l.." da...,grandaer" said she,."an~dso eane to sit awhile with you. Are yu ot very lonely here, with no one to sp'ak or to love ?" The old man paused for imoment, and laid his hand upon the ead of the gentle child. " I ami never lot, my child," he said. " How can I v lonelv ? for God is with me ; the Com irter comes from the FIather to dwell in iy soul, nid my Saviour is ever near to sii heer and instruct me. I sit at his His ,et. and learn of Him ; and though pain on nd sickness often ceme to warn ine that go )is earthly house of' my tabernacle is C-I non to lie dissolved, I know there is pre- thi ared for ne a man.ion, the glories of; so hich no toinune cani tell, no iheart con- lit, eive. The hove of' God is like living wa- cr< r in my soul. seek, in your youth, this up uniltaii, my child. Drink deep of' its tll vintg wauters; and then, when your hair It iall be whitened for the grr.ve, when all wI >urces of earthly enjoyment are taken Ei wa, you too can say. I am never alone." str Let ibis testimiony- vof an agred and de- sai oted servant of Christ, .Ank deep into wvi te heart of every child who reads these w< nies. Seek while in youth the source of elk iat consolaition which can lie your joy in im ckiness, in trial, and solitude-your stay m: hen all earthly helps have failed. Then wi 'ill it be vour blessed privilege to say, sh: 1, too, am never alone."-Christian Cit. feA el. Pa --tre THrE BITER BITTEN.-Some one has qu ld an anecdote somethinr like this:- e: . gainlier challenged an old piloton the ni; lississippi to play a game of loo. The Id fellow was too much for the travelling on entleman, and bled him $50 in short no etre. 10< " Now," say9 the blackleg, "I'll bet for nu 50 against the 50 you have just won, be: iat I can turn up a Jack the first thing." it " Never mind," says the pilot, " let's Yc are a game at old sledge. You can ra' rsily get your change back at that." But so far from this. in a few hands the ne ,nble-r was minus $50 more; when lie do fered to bet a hundred dollars he could me irn up Jack. " Very well, go ahead." foi Over went-the wcho!e pack. " Wall," said the gambler, "I reckon ref iere's a Jack up." do " Not's you knows on," said the pilot, wi )r while we were at old sledge, I stole his uit all the Jacks." evi The blackleg had run against a snag, id he wasn't insured! a -- -o- -ha KEEP YOUR DISTANUE.-The Pledge so d Standard relbites the following inri'- w%.. ent of a Philadelphia son of' Neptune: bu A clever sailor has lately joined the wI ons of Temperance in Philadelphia, af- ge r running a course of dissipation by a hieb his neans wtre pretty well ex- to austed. At the time of signing the tl ledge he was indebted to a runiseller one fri hilling. A few days ago lie vent to pay 1lo( ff the score. but bieiing determined not tin ) enter tle house in which lie had been lie lbbed, he got a liog plie, attached the tre iece of money to tile end of it, and stand.-1H ig at the outside of the door, reached it v( 1 the antonished iiblican, and marched or if1 with a jolly heart. to - - -_ i I SuERIDAN AN I ruE Boo-rs.--Sheridan i de his appeiar'ance oneC day ini a pair oh'. ew" boaits ; these attracting thet notice of lh rme of' his fiendits. " noui guess," said lie, clh how I caine hiy theise boots ?" Mainy co roable gTue~Sses theii tootk place. " No," w mid Shei idan, " no y'ou've not hit it, nor ever will--I hought them, and paid for leem!" th trnger, youi a ppear to be trav'elling ?" bI "Yes, I ahvays travel iwhlen oii a jour- er~ ii "Aiid praiy, iwhait might yotur namne he?" cli "Haive i'ou beein long in these parts ?" ho "Neiver longer than at pireset-5 feet ti di " Do yon get any thiing new ? " Yes, I bought a new iwhetstoiie this Cen 1riuing."o "1 thought so ; yotu are the sharpest of lade I've met on this road." in FREAKs OF EN~IUs.-" Kitty, whiere's i'e le frinig pan 1" or "Johnny's got it carting mud aind clam sp hells up the alleyi iwithi the cat f'or a horse." co "1 The dear little fellow, what a genus on' e will make ; bu' go and git it. We'er pr ~oing to have compatny, anid must fry st 0ome fish for dinner." fr< MIEANNES.-Of all possible vices which ch ervade this vicious world, meanness is ec he meanest. Lying, stealing, and swin- g; l[ing, if practised according to the cus- cr imary rules, are decidedly honorable in fo :omparison iwith that peculiar littleness fr< f soul, in which somie mn will act g igaist their ow~n interests, in their sedu- he ous efforts to avoid contributing the least sli ossible patronage or benefit to others. --- - ni A ScirERFLUOL's SUGGESTIoN.-A coun- f'o ry genetlemni, who had taken some pains ril o instruct the rustic inhabitaints in the el >roper signs of respect due to him, being in idiig on a hlorse given to shy, and ob- hi; erving a lad iwalking before him, called pi mt, "Boy, don't take off your hatI" e: 'he youth, turning his head very inno- di ,ntly replied, " I worn't a going to sir." sa wer< From the Iome Journal. but IIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. ohes I thes HY 3MRs. BELL smiri. arre! One Saturday afternoon, some years WaS ice, about the bar-room of the only rest blic house in the little village of S-, I Lake Erie, were gathered a number of est i ssipping idlers, sea-faring men and deta -mers. A lthough early in the afterioon, this, e heavy clouds of an approaching storm his e darkened the shore that candles were robh and in their dim light the gathered peeL mwd listened to the heating of the waves wert onl the beach, and the distant roll of pers inder that announced the coming strife. the was one of those scenes that occur so g wn a mighty tempest comes down on bere -ie's iland sea, and the dullest seemed be bi uck with its impressive grandeur. The too ilors drank from their poisoned cups the th less noise, and the village politicians dred re less absorbed in the presidential ly fo etion. One of the number seemed A >re uneasy than the rest. A young tenei in of njild, propossessing appearance, a po th a rifle in his hand, and a powder-horn swer mng over his shoulder, for he had but a unfo v minutes before come in from gunning, pron eed to aid from the door, looked at the " ubled bay and cloudy sky, and fre. man, entlv asked an old Captain of a schoon. evita when he would be able to sail-to. I am rit? cy." "To-night? No, sir!" he responded to H, e of these inquiries; " nor to-morrow, the c r next day, I expect. This 'ere storm Milli ks as if it was goin' to lead off a dance they a good many flirtin' ones, and 1 don't " lieve in puttin' out in sich company- in 1) orrupts good manners, as the savin' is. child iu seem to be in a great hurry, com- wido le ?" little "I am. The Sea-Gull brought me ill 0i is from home this morning, and I will A yt able your passage-tioney if you run per-s( down to C- to-night." ered "Not 1, 1 woudn't undertake it for voice ir times the money " mult, Silenced by this reply, the young man urned sadly into the house. and sitting You wn, thrust his hands into his pockets, .-ou C Lh the-dogged air of one who-makespifiV ' mind to be content with a positive the c M- W-- had been in S- but clear few weeks, and although a stranger, ment d impressed its inhabitants favorably- "'i quiet, retiring, and, all thonght kind, have is he in manner and disposition. The comr siness that brought him to the place earm is bY no means settled, and the intelli- cruel nee lie had received must have been of comr ,ery pressing nature to make one na- swer -ally so timid anxious to brave a storm Whe it caused the hardiest sailor to shrink "I im duty. ie had beenl sitting with a man >k of gloomy discontent but a short a har ie, wheii a chatter of horses' feet were turimi ard in the street, and a man, pale and stern mhlitig, stood within the door-way. their s first discordant utterance was the gathi 1td " Murder !" No expression of pain obtst; terror cati send the same deathly chill a me the heart as that one word of terrible way port ; and, paralyzed with stupid sur- sage se, the gathered crowd i nqu iringly croW zed at thet breathless messetnger of evil. word hre lie could relate what seemed to purp, oke his utter:mece, the sherifT of the them unty hastily entered atnd arrested M--- one whet "For what ?" faltered the young man. impo "The murder of Millie W~oods," was heart ster'n reply." It wanted only this to swell the horrn- thintl setnsationi thiat had fallen upon the low. >wd. Millie Woods, a little girl, ten He ~ twelve years of age, was the only shall ibi of respectacle par'ents living withinitn tih> oh S--, anid in her sprightly bumt ~eliness, had woni the affiectioni of all upon villagers. The circumstances atten- A gher death wvere as I'ollows: spon The panrents, as w~as fr'eqncntly their ae stomt, left thte house under the charge t.i Millie, antd had beetn, thte greater Pfart rii the day, making purchases and visit in the vilhage. Hlurrying home be- cu e the conung storm, the agonized pia- ou tts found their house r'obbed, and theirbei ly child brutally miurdered. The news bit read rapidly, atid sootn the curious and ineth oler neighbors were looking cat'efullythI all marks the violetice had left in theP emises. Thbe house, a large frame one, ot od some distance from the road. The o )nt door w~as found open, all the inner weir tou ors unlocked or broken, every drawer, stou est, press or cupboard forced, and thteir the ntents scattered over the floor. In the pant .rret, to wvhich place the poor little and eature had probably fled, Millie was dcl nd covered with blood, that flowed the I m a stab in her side, her little hatnd calhi asping atn old bed-post, while around holy t neck a white handkerchief w'as T gtly knotted. wret Upon the floor of the hall, one of the treat ighbors picked up a squirril with one foan re-pawv gone, and its head scalped by a that e ball. A young man wh'lo had been thun opping wvood in a neighboritng grove a hu imediatly recognized it as one W-- and id shot that afternoon ; lie was by, and, Si cking it up, remarked to W--the dwve; :cellent shot. W-- lef't him in the lives rection of Woods' house,' wvith the lent iel in hijs hnd. The handkerchief' li:tl nund from Millie's neck had the let- by M. W." in one corher. True these w( the iniiials of Aillie's own name, tri ier mother positively avowed she co d no such article Satisfied with pr cireninstances, the" officers at once up ted W. From the time the murder to discovered, to that'of W- 's ar- w( was just two hours. K vi( he prisoner was hurried to the near igistrate, and the evidence I have evi led before given. lu addition to ed spots of fresh blood were found on dik nat sleeve, and as Woods had been tic ed of some gold and ilver coin, of a es< liar character, two or three pieces w( found upon the unfortunate man's rel m. This riveted thefinal link, and ib :rowd grew furionus. Little Millie, th: >od, so loved and loving, all remem- to i as a child of their own, and she to itchered for gold-the law seemed pa low and mild for vengeance; and by !reat crowd, now swelled to hun. ge 3, swayed to and fro,sh'outing angri r blood. th convict but lately from prison, has- to( I forward with a rope, threw it over bel st, while some of the .citizens, in an- mi to this mere suggestion, hurried the th( -tunate pmisoner towards the im- hei ptu gallows. JIt gentlemen!" screamed the young let frightened at what appeared his in ble fate. " Have merpy upon me-. do innocent-indeed I am-have mer- did s voice was drowned in a roar from In rowd. "Who had niercy on little set ? kill him, kill him !" and again the pushed him towards The fatal post. )h, God!" cried the unhappy man, cri tter angush, and trembling like a "will no one pity me? I have a pu wed mother-mercy, mercy-wait a while, only a little while." of le, alone, answered this last appeal. blc ung lawyer, of eminent ability, and 1nally popular, sprang 4orward, ser.: ste the rope, and then in a elear, silvery I v that rung out high above the tu said me ly friends, be careful ,f your acts. are about to do what;in this man coi ondemn-an eawf~l i e hain.ne 16wn,"do Mi you wi to secure riminal, but respect the law" me ind give squire B-- a chance to ov< him," interrupted the convict I have loc oned. 'o that man, fresh from the cells, I nothing to say ; but to you, my vo anions, neighbors, friends, I appeal, a r stly appeal. Why will you do this thing? What right have you to list lit a murder? How will you an- on to the Great Giver of good for this? e is your authority ?" Mi le who sheddeth man's blood, by anm shall his blood be shed," responded hoi sh, solemn voice, and the crowd spe Ig saw, where a torch waved over a sqt unfeeling fance, the countenance of sht preacher! It was a time when the bla red feeling, checked by some great ' cle pauses in its rash career, and for the ment there seems a doubt which the tide will flow. The awful pas. et. so solemnmly quoted, fell on the Cy d at that mioment, when the slightest wc would have turned them from their Cel >se, and, stinmulated as it seemed to WV by a command from [Heaven, they sor more seizedl their trembling captive, - Sthe old Captaini, whom W-- had rtuned for a passage, claimed to be thr I: cri 'onmrades," said he, "Squire B s we hadn't ought to hang this fel Well, l'll tell you what we'll do. ae cantedl to sail with me this day. He gr: (10 so. We'll take him outside the mai tie him in an open boat, and set fad idrift. TIhen the Lord have mercy wh himt. What say yot?" re, shout of approbation was the re-an se, and they hurried W- to the dr< .In the meanwhile the storm stc loud, and when in the dark night, Af torebies heaiteni out by the wind and str the great crowd heard the angry as s dashing over the rude pier, their ti ige failed, and seven onily were ani I ready for the enterprize. Clam- iial g upon thme deck, with their victim lhe Ar imidst, the cables wvere cut, and off ittle bark, like a frightened bird, hea out to sea. tal rhaps no scene ever painted itself Im' e canvass of real life so startling, pc< Iand strange as this. While the ing -hearted skipper steered the bark, onviet, assisted by four of his com-. me mns, tied W-to the open boat, the preacher, kneeling upon the then ,was heard betw .n the pauses of hunder, lar above waves and wind, bel ig upon H-eaven to bless their un- c act. sin ie open Lake was gained, and the ehed man, regardless of his loud en- las ise and screams, wvas given to the I r ling waters. In a glare of lightning, a I was followed by a deafening peal of it< der, they saw their victim rise upon yo ge wave, then plunge into darkness do death beyond. rort time had the executioners to th: I upon their ruthless deed. Their "I were in jeopardy. A storm so vio. I I has seldom been equailed, anid the eu crf was worked. save the skipper, foi unskilful hands. Desperate efforts re made to regain the Bay, but the en nee was narrow and intrieate, while mmands, grossly misundersiood, were >mptly executed, so that the bark ran on a ledge of rocks, and quickly went pieces. Two only of itsstrange crew re saved-the clergyman and the con. I together reached the shore. Some three years after these strange mnts, the Rev. Mr. H- was waken one night by a request to come imme tely and administer religious consola. n to a prisoner, who, in attempting an :ape from jail, had been mortally unded by the sentinel on duty. The -erend gentleman folded his cloak Dut him, and accompanied by the jailer, 'eaded his way through snow and sleet the prisoner. They found the prisoner wiithing in n, upon his bed in the gloomy cell, lit a dim candle and alone, for the sur. >n had pronounced his case hopeless. You've come at last," he growled, as clergyman, approaching the bed, k from beneath a cloak a book, and an the duties pertaining to his sacred ision. "You've come at last-I ught I'd go down before you got -e." ' May you be spared for repentance; us lose no time." -No you don't! I'm bound to go xn-down. Don't be fooling-[ n't send for that!" The sands of life are running fast. a few moments you will be in the pre. ice of your Judge, and repentance n will be of no avail." ' It will not avail me now," said the inal. ' Think of your past life-think ofthe iishinent that is to follow!" rhe answer to this was a frantic roar laughter, that made even the jailer's od tingle with alarm. I will n6t remain," said Mr. H rnly, "and hear this awful mockery. rarn you now-beware!" 'Well, listen, then-don't you know 1" rhe clergyman held the candle to the iviet's face, and started with astonish nt. . - ,.,, 'Oh, you know me, do youI You re mber the night we tossed W rboard-how he prayed? Oh, ho! k to yourself!" 'I did my duty." 'Ah, ha! you did, did you ? You did r duty in drowning a poor fellow for iurder lie never committed !" % tremor like an ague ran through the ener's frame, and there ho stood as disrrayed. 'He never did the deed. I murdered lie Woods-I chased her to the garret I killed her. I was there robbing the ise when IV- Came. I heard him i Ak cheerily to the child, give her the I irrel, and then leave. A minute after I was a dead baby, and W- had the i me!" 'Lord, have mercy on me !" groaned Divine, in an agony of spirit. 'I slipped the gold pieces in his pock How lie prayed and begged for mer It's our turn now ! I don't beg-I I nt-I'll die as I have lived-but you I ihowl : lie had a wcidow mother. Sall went under, but you and I, par. u, came up together- now we go dowvn Jow-down !" Th voice ceased-a shudder run ough his iron frame, and the wretched I minal was no more.< . * . * * * 1 n time, the village of S-grew to I ity. Many of its old citizens had emi ted or were dead, and, among the re- t ining, thie events I have narrated had , ed almost into an uncertain legend; en one surny afternoon, an elderly itleman of staid, respectable appear. :e, etompaniied by his wife and chil i, made his way from the eveningi amer to one oi the principal hotels. 1 er securing rooms. he walked into the 1 ~ets. He earnestly scanned the signs I he passed. He stopped befuro one .t read " Attorney at Law'." Paused, then, with a start, as if the determi ion had a spice of the desparate in it, ascended the stairs and entered the 1 c. An elderly man, with a baldi d and wvrinkled face, was seated at a Ic surrounded by books and papers. 'iting the new cotier to be seated, he i mred at him through his spetacles, and uired his business: ' Mr. B-.--, you do not remsmber I cannot say that I do," answvered attorny, slowly, as if in doubt. 1 Do you not remember pleading in lf of a poor fellowv, about being lyn d for a murder, some thirty years c" Mr. M-W--?"exclaimed the ryer, joyfully. " Can it be possible? ever forget a face, aind yours I saw in rame work that night ought to impress m my memory forever. But I thought a dead years ago. Sit down, sit wn, and tell me all." "~ After I was thrown from the vessel t night," said W-, seating himself, was so frightened that for some time iad no consciousness of wvhat had oc rred. On becoming more collected, I m m little boat, half filled with wa ter, riding the short heavy waves, and every second I expected to go under, or be capsized, and so drown. This not oc curring, I began to look about. I found the cord by which I was tied passed over my shoulder. I managed to get it in my mouth, and soon gnawed it apart. This loosened my hands so that in a few min. utes I freed myself and sat up. With ap old cup, that I found in the boat, I bailed out the water, and then, breaking up one of the seats, I managed the little affair so as to ship no more of the waves, and in this way rode out the storm and the night. "By morning the tvind had somewhat subsided, but so exhausted was I by fear and fatigue, that I was forced to lie down, and soon was sound asleep. When I woke the sun was settting, and far as I could see on every side, was a dreary waste of waters. Strange as it may sound, I was greatly relieved. I feared nothing so much as falling again into the hands of that terrible mob. "'The full moon came out making the scene as light almost as day, and, a gen tle breeze springing up, I took my coat, fastened it on the broken seat, and with this for a sail drifted, near as I could make out by the stars, in a north-easterly direction. I knew, sooner or later, I must strike the Canada shore, but how far I had been carried in the storm, I ould not, of course determine. Through that long nigt I floated on. I saw the moon go down, and the stars fade into the cold grey light of morning, and then the sun came up with the clear, dalm day, but no land could be seen-nothing but ,littering water. I imagined at one time seeing in the dim distance a sail, but if 3ne, it immediately disappeared. Abont ioon I noticed something floating near lie, and on paddling my boat alongside, ound it a bale of roods, carefully corded together. I fastened it, almost without motive, to my boat, and again lying down, was soon asleep. I was awakenened by a shout, and, starting up; found.I was running close to a wooded shore, and a umber of men staring in wonder at my ppearance. In answer to my request, Dne of them waded in and pulled my boat.to-the land.-I learned, to- my great relief, that I had reached the Canada side, ithin a few miles of-. It was sup nosed that I had been shipwrecked, to which my bale of goods at once gave :oloring, and secured for me a kind re :eption. On opening this bale, next day, [ found it filled with costly silks and vel ets, and so admirably packed that the ater had not damaged them. This had irohably been lost from some wreck in lie late storm, and noting the address, ith the intention of re-paying some day. sold the contents, and with proceeds vent to New York, where I, after my nother's death, joined an expedition fit ing out for-, in South America. In his new home I married, and engaged n merchandize. There I lived until I! earned, a few months since, my innocence >f that cruel deed had been made known >y the confession of the real criminal." When he had finished recounting his trange escape, the lawyer, rising abrupt v, canght him by the arm, and pointed o the open window. They looked and awv a gaunt figure, with sunken eyes, ile cheeks, and long grey hair, in the ~loom of the evening, move silently long. "That," said the lawyer, "is Mr. --. Since the night of criminal's onfession, his intellect, never strong, has een a complete wreck. Every evening e wanders to the lake. If stormy, no ntreaties can indnee him to seek a'shel er. hut hour after hour lhe paces the bore, as if every moment he expected ome revelation from its troubled waters." THmu man who commenced reading ehstr's Dietionary through in course, eports that he finds it very nice reading, t "somehow the subjects are dreadful y mixed up." He " don't more than get aunched upnn one, before off the writer tarts upon another." TrHE most tender hearted man we ever aw, was a shoemaker, who always shut s eyes and whistled when he ran his awvl nte a sole. Das. Joaixsoy, once speaking of a quar elsome fellowv, said, " If lie hr d two ideas n his head they would fall oct with each >ther." "POOR rule that won't work both ways," s the boy said, when he threw the rule yack at his master. MIAN'S TROUBLES. 'Tween woman and wine, sir, Mani's lot is to smart; For wine makes his heed ache5 And woman his heart. ADBsENCE OF MIND.-The last ease we ave heard was that of a lady wh'o care rully laid her mop in the cradlle and wiped up the floor with her baby. She discover ed her mistake when she attempted to wring it. It an elephant can travel eight miles an hour and carry his trunk, how far could be travel if he had a little darkey to carry u for him ? oRiticN. From the Winusboro Registef. Letter of Hon. J. A. Woodwar&, Mr. Editor: About seven months before his death Mr. Calhoun addressed a letter to a friend, on the subject of the controversy be-r tween the North and the South. In refer ence to the question what could be done, he says: "In considering it, I assume that the first great desire of every true-hearted Southern man, is to save if possible, the Union, as well as onrselves; but if both cannot be then to save ourselves at all events. -~ Such is my determination, as far as lies within my power. Fortunately for us the road whkih leads to both, yet lies in the same direction, We have not reached the fork yet" &c. From this it well appear, that, in Mr. Cal. boun's opinion, a time was approaching when a course of policy, or measures, look.; ing to the safety of the South, and differing from that which looked to the safety of the Union, would have to be adopted. He thought it fortunate that the road had not yet forked. Now, if the road had not forked befote his death he died a Union man, in the same sense he always had been. If the road had forked then whether he died a Unioti mati of a Disunion Man, depended on which fork he would have taken; I say, wotild have taken, for he did not live to promulgate to the world his own purposes. By the word toad, Mr. Calhoun meant line of polley or routine of measures. The word implies continuity of prolongation. Now, I assert that during the session at which he died, in his estimation, the road had forked; that is, the time had arrived when it was necessary to adopt a line of policy looking to the safety of the South, distinct and different from any line of policy looking to the safety of the Union. Previous to this time I had dtffered in opia nion with Mr. Calhoun on important points, The beginning or first step in a new line of policy I urged upon my constituents, in Oct ber last. I have said, and then said, and still say. that in taking that course, I adopted the course Mr. Calhoun indicated to me. I did not describe it ns the " opposite course1 to the one pursued by him before the road had forked, (to keep up his own language,4 because it was not precisely opposite to that. It was, however, a different course, and strangely partook of the opposite. Wishibg to exclude the idea JthAt.hadbe.ived. there .would have-beiAriny ehtrasib obt views, I expressed myself In my letter in the form I did. The expression was, perhaps a little free, or if you please, loose, but on ac count of the printer, I was endeavoring to be very brief. For the third time I beg the public to tin derstand that my letter was designed to de. scribe the spee-h mando by Ine last October, and when in my letter I spoke of having "adopted a course," I alitded to the course I then adopted, and not to my general course in Congress previous to that time,nand during which I sometimes differed in opinion with Mr. Calhoun in the way I have heretofore described. I did not at first consider the collatteral bearing of the extracts of which the letter is composed, whether upon things, but after a most careflbi inspection I have been able to find out a single passage that could possibly be construed as alluding dis. respectfully to Mr. Calhoun. It is suggested that I am suspected of aiming to assign Mr. Calhoun to one of the political parties of the day. If so, it is a mistake. Now, that a convention has been cnlled, I have no right to affirm what Mr, Calhoun would advise, were he living. And :s to separate State action. I have heard him say, that when the slavery quiestion should become one of resistance or ultimate submission, a single State ought to make the venture alone, if no other. would. As to what he would do under existing circum. stances, people must judge for themselves. I would only advise them to go to reliable sources for information. In speaking of Mr. Calhoun as being for or agaiinst the Union, I have no reference to any private wish or preference he may have entertained in regard to Union or Disunion in the abstract; but to his position, purpose or intention. And, I say, that,at the time of his death, his purpose wvas to adopt a policy looking to the safety of the South, as incom patible with the continuance of the existing Union. Respectfully, X. A. WOOD WARD. Tnrr AnOUN THE WORL.--R. S. Wades Esq., has just returned from Europe to Bos ton. In December last lhe left Boston for California, thence proceeded to China in the bark George E. Webster, and thence to Eng land via the overland route fromn India, thus having taken a turn around the globe in less than nine months, stopping two months of the time in San Francisco, a month in China, and at least a fortnight in England. THE PENDLETON MESSENGER.'---We are pleased to learn that a newv series of the Mles senger, advocating the same principle as be fore, wvill be issued in a short time. The sub scription price wvill be the samne as heretofore. Those wishing to subscribe will forward their names, directed to the "Pendleton Messenger." -Greenville Mountaineer. THE ALBANY 1CikIeKER BoCEER 'ives us an account of a wonderful dog, belonging to one of its uarriers. The carrier fell sick, when he sent out a boy to deliver the pa pers. All he had to do was to follow the dog, who stopped at the residence of each s~xbscriber and wagged his tail, never miss. ing one in a list of six hundred. At the do~or of all subscribers who had not paid for their paper for a length of time, the dog was heard to howl! This is a moat intelli gent and useful animal. Sma JoHN FaAxra.-Captain Griffith, of the brig Rescue, of the American Arctic ex pedition, which reached New York on Tes day, entertains the same hypothesis. as to the fate of Sir John Franklin, with Lieut. De Haven, and some of the officers of the Bri tish expedition, namely, that he is hemmd in by the ice at a point to which them empi