University of South Carolina Libraries
"We will cling to the Pillars of the' Temple of." P r Liberties, and Wfit must fall, w iersaie Ri." F. DURISOE & SON, Proprietors. EDGEFIELD S. C., FEBRUARY 14, 1855. -O --I*- - THE E0D-EIELD ADVERVISFIR IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY W. F. D U RI S 0 E al S ON, Proprietors. ARTHUR SIMKINS, Editor. 'Two DOLLARS per year, if paid in advance-TWO DOLLAaS and FiFTY CEsrs if not paid within six 4months-and TnaEE DOLLARS if not paid before the expiration of the year. All subscriptions not distinet ly limited at -he time of subscribing, w ill be consider ed as made for an indefinite period, and will be con -itsued until all arrearages are paid, or at the option of the Publisher. Subseriptions from other States must INVARIABLY be accompanied with the cash or refer ence to some one known to us. ADVERTISEMENrs will be conspicuously inserted at 75 cents per Square (12 lines or less) for the first in sertion, and 371 cents for each subsequent insertion. When only published Monthly or Quarterly $1 per 4quare will he charged. All Advertisementitnothaving the desired number of insertions marked on the mar gin, will be continued until forbid and charged ac coirdingly. Those desiring to advertise by the year can dosoon liberal terms-it lieing distinctly understood that con tracts for yearly advertising are confinted to theimme -diat-, legitimate btsiners of the firm or individual -contracting. Transient Advertisements must be paid fur in advance. For announcing a Candidate, Three Dollars, is ADVA*CE. For Advertising Estrays Tolled, Two Dollars, to be aid by the Magistrate advertising. Law Notice, M ESSRS. SPANN & MAGRATH, l in partner-hip, wili pratctice in LA A A.N D EQLITY. Office opposite the residence of Mr. G. Addison. One or the other will always be in office. Jan 3 3m 51 Law Notice, T IE Undersigned have formed a Partnership. and will PRACTICE LAW in Edgefiejd, Ab beville and Lexington. GEORGE W. LANDRUM, ABNER PERRIN. Edgefield C. IT., Sept 21,1854. t! 36 DENTAL SURGERY! R. ff. PARIK ER, respectfully informs D the eit.zens of E-lgelield District, that le my be found during sale day week at the .Planter's Ilo tel, Edgefield U. EH., and at his residence on the Anderson road, eighteen miles North-cast of tie Village, on -every Friday and Saturday folliwing. Specimens of his work, put up tn the latest and most improved principles. can be seen at his Office. His address, wh- n in the couitry, as hereto:ore, Sleepy Creek, P. 0. Dec 27 tf 50 Practice of Surgery! lR.JUK-AH HARRIE. Augusta, .L Ga., is prepared tosaccomntodate with Liedgimg and Nursing. such patients as may be directed to him for-SU llWICA L OPE1RATIONS or Treatment. ET Masters may be assured that their Servants will have every necessary attenin. Augusta, lay 26, 1y 19 FRESH AIR RIVALS. R. A. G. TEAGUE respectfully informs his friends iad citizeus uf Eld gelield generally, that he has just re-eived a LA [WE ADDITION to his alreayl extensjye'Stock of fresh and genuine Drugs, Medicines, Chemicals, &c. . his Drugs are carefully examined by himself, and :all that are found worthless, rejected ; slnd those that are approved may be relied on as efficient and. -of uniform action. ALL of his Medicinal Compounds, Tinctures, Pills, Ointments, &c.. &c., are put up under his -own supervision tnd in strict accordance with the Uniten States Dispehgstory. From hislong and extensive experience in the practice of Medicine, he has made several Com poundie of his own.not tq-be feund i the lI)ispensn -tory, viz:-A Preparatioen for the CROUP, which Le has used extensively fear eighteen veirs. and re .commtends with confidence ; a V ER MIl'UGE, satfe and effiient; atnd many othe-r Compoaunels which he mtakcs extemnporaneously to fulfil the indications in each particular ease foer which it is used. It would re quire more space thatn could be ob tained ini a Newspaper to give a Cataloegue of the Druigs, Mledicines and Chetnicals ke-pt and sold by him-sutlice it tee say, he c-an furnish a Phys~cemn's Office COIPL ETE, with:Physiek and Furniture. He hasc added to his t'ormer Stock some of the vnost reliable Vegetaibieextrac~ts, vit: PODOPillL LIN, STILLINGINE, LEPTANDRIN, &c. gyT Planters and families catn be suplilied with all M eedicines necess'ary in a family-and when desired, <1irectiotts put up with each article. All of the most reputable NOSTRUSMS may be found in his Establishment. Also, Oaadies, Kisses, Sugar Plums and Sands. AELSO., FINE W IN ES A ND BR ANDY, .-for Medicinal purposes. .Perfumery of his own and Northern make hard toe heat. SOAPS.-A large and extensive variety. CANJDL ES,-Wax, Spe-rit and A damantine. Paints, Oils and Dye Stuffs, WINYDOW GLASS, PlUTTY, VARNISHES, &c. BR USHES.-Mlarking, Sash, Teol, Paint, Grain ing, Teetth, Nail, Flesh, Crumb, Shoe, llorse and Tanners Brushes. P ENCILS-Camel's and Sable Ihair, large size. A ud last though not least, the finest [IA I R BRIUSTI ES ever offered in the place, of various patrons 'and qualities. Dressng iad extrat fine COMBS, DUS TING BRUS HE S,-A n excellenit article. PAPER-Fools Cap and Letter Paper, common and fine. NOTE PAPER-Various sizes and fancy styles, ENVELOPES-Common Buff, Plain White and Fancy. Note Envelopes,. INK,PENS, PENCILS AND CR AYONS, Osborne's Anmerican Water Calours. Guda~ Elastic Balls-Solid, Ilollow and - Fine,-Parlor Balls fnr the Ladies, inviting them to exercise within doors, when the weather is 'too ineleiment to be out. May 18 tf 18 For the Pleters ! h Lbq. Peruvian Guano, UU50OO too bble. Kettlewell's GUANO anud SALDTS, .70 Bblm. Kettlewe.1' CJTEM CA L SA LTS, 30 " Pure grounad F;L ASTER. The above celebrated Sisour~s for sale by J. SIBLEY & SON. Hamburg, Nov 14, i1 44 gr The Laurensville Heralkd, bdcepdent Press and .Anderson Gazette will copy the above four eimes, and forward biils to J. S. 4 SON Saddlery and Harness.. A FiNE assortment to be found, and at low bri ec;, at ROBINSON& JA CKSON'S. ~Hamburg, Dec 4, tf .47 5e11 Ypulr Cotton and Pay Your A8 Cotton is ng bringing a good price, I think Ait is the proper time for till persons indebted to me, to sell their Cotton and pay up promptly. What say you gentl'emen ? M'e. W. CLARY. Crmjv-roN. Nov 2 3m 50 THE RIGHT ARM, Filly years ago a terrible stornt shook the the city of London. At the (lead of iight when the storm was at its highest, an aged minister, living near the darkest suburbs o1 the city, was aroused by an earnest cry for help. Looking from his window.Jhe beheld a rude man clad in -the coarse attire of the sweeper of the public streets. In a few mo uments, while the raii came down in torrents, and tihe storm growled above, that preacher leaning on the arm of the scavenger treaded his way to the dark suburb. That very day, a stranger old man had fallen speechles, in front of the scavenger's rude home. The good hearted street sweep. et had taken him in-laid him on his bed he had not once spoken-and now h4 was dying. This was the story of the rough man. And now through dark alleys, anong miserable tenements, that seems to topple down upon their heads, into the loneliest and dreariest suburhs of the city they pas.s- I t;.at white haired minister and his guide. At last into a narrow court and up stairs that cracked beneath their tread, and then into the death-room. It was in truth .miserable place. A glimmering light ,tood on a broken chair. There were the rough walls, there f the solitary garret window with tihe rain beating through the rags and straw, which il stuffed the broken panes-and there, amid a s heap of cold ashes the small valise, which it seems the stranger had with him. ' In one corner, on the coarse straw of the A ragged bed lay the dying man. He was but half-dressed ; his legs were concealed in d military bdots. The aged preacher drew near and looked a upon him. And he looked-throb-throb throb-you might hear the death watch tick kig in the shattered wall. t It was the form of a strong man grown c uld with care more than age. There was a face that you might look r upon once, and yet wear it in your memory n forever. . Let us bend over the bed and look on, b that face. A bold forehead, seamed by one a deep wrinkle between the brows-long locks of dark hair, sprinkled with grey lips firmly set, yet quivering as though they i had a lile-separate from the life of the mai -and then two large eyes, vivid, burning, unnatural in their steady glare. Ah, there was something so terrible in i that face-something so full of unuterable .n loneliness, -unspeakable despair-that the i mged ninister started back in horror. s But look! Those sti ong arms are clutch. t. ng at the vacant air-the death sweat starts n in drops upon the cold brow-the m'an is b1 ying. Throh-throb-throb-beat the death h watch in the shattered wall. t 1 Would vou die in the faith of the f Christain !" faltered the preacher, as he knelt there on the dark floor. The white lips of the death stricken man r trembled but made no sound. Then With the agony of death upon him, lie rose into a sitting posture. For the first time, he spoke : " Christian !" he echoed in that deep tone, v which thrilled the preacher to the hear', -will that faith give me hack my honor! a Come with me,- come n ithm wme far over the ii water. Habi! we are there !-This is my t< ative town. Yonder is the church in which I knelt in childhood-yonder the green on s which I sported when a boy. But another 1ag that waved whlen I was a child. And I listen, old man, were 1 to pass along thi, street, as I passed when but a child, thev very hahes in their cradles would raise their I tiny hands and curse me. The graves in i yonder churchyard would shrinik from my If footsteps, and yonder flag would sain a bap- . tism of blood upon my heart !" 1 Tihat w~as an awful death lbed. The min ister has watched the " last night" with a hutdred convicts in their cells anad yetner beheld a scene so terrible as this.I Suddenly the dying~ man arose. He tot. tered along the flomor. With those white< figers, whose nauils are blue with the death. chill, lie threwv open the valise. He showedc is military coat, trimmed with silver, an I ld parchment, a piece of cloth that looked 11 like the wreck of a battle-flag.t " Look ye, priest, this faded coat is spot-. ted with my blood !" he cried, as old me'm- I ores seemed stirring at his heart. " This is the coat I wore when I first heard the news l of Lexington ; this coat I wvore, when I lI planted the banner of the stars on Ticonde roga !-That bullet hole was pierced in the ight at Quebeck; now-i am a-let me< whisper it in your oar! He hissed that sinigle burning word into the minister's ear. " Now help ms, priest," he said in a yoice grown suddenly tremulous; "help me put on I this coat of blue and silver. For you see," I and a ghastly smile come over his face 'there is none to wipe the cold drops from my brow ; no wife no child-i must meet death alone ;, but 1 will meet him, as I met him in battle, without fear!" < And while he stood arraying his limbs inr that worm eaten coat of blue and silver, the good preacher spoke to him of faith in t Jesus. Yes of that great faith which pierced the clouds of human guilt, and rolls them back from the face of God. "Faith !" echoed the strange man who stood there, erect, with the deathlight in his eve. " Faith can it give me back my honori I L'ok, ye priest, there over the waves, sits George Washington, telling to his comrades, the pleasant story of the eight years' war here in his royal hails sit George of Enig- I land bewailing itn hi, idiotic voice the toss of his Colagies. And herram [-I-who was< the first ,to raise the flag of freedom, the first to strjiks a blow against that King-here am I dyingke adog !" * The awe strickeni preher started back from the look of the dying man while throb -throb-throb-beat the death watch in he hattered wall. " Hush ! silence along the line there!" he nuttered in that wild absent tone, as though speaking to the dead; "silence along the itnesl Not a word on peril of your-lives. B-irk you, Monigotmery, we will meet in the :entre of the town ! We will meet there in dietory or death! Hist I silence, my men, lot a whisper as you move up those steep -ocks! Now on my boys, now on! Men > the Wilderness, we will gain the town ! Now up wiih the banner of the stars-up with the flag of freedom, though the night is lark and the snow falls! Now-now hrieked the death strieken man, towering here in the bslue uniform. With his clench. d hands waiving in the air-" now, now )ne blow more and Quebec is ours! And look! His eyes grow glasy. With hat word on his .lips, he stands there-ah vhat a hideous picture of despair, erect, ivid ghas.tly! There for a moment and hen he CAlls! He is dead ! Ah, look at that proud form, thrown cold mid stiff upon the damj floor. In that glas. y eye, there lingers, event yet, horrible ener y-a sublimity of de:pair. Who is-this strange man, dyinghere alone a this rude garret-this tnan, who in all his imes still treasured up that blue uniform .iid faded flag? Who is this being of horrible remnrse? ['his loan whose memories link something f H eaven and more of bell? Let us look at that parchment, and that [;ig. The aged minister unrolls that faded flag, was a blue banner, gleaming with thirteen tars. lie unrolls that parchment. It is a Col. nel's commission in the Continental Army, ddressed to-BENEDICr ARNOLD. And there in that rude hut, while the enth watch throbbed like a heart in the battered wall-there unknown, unwept, in 11 the bitterness of desolation, lay the corps f the Patriot and Traitor. 0, that our own true Washington had been iere, to sever that good right arm from the iprpse, and while the dishonored *body rot. d into the dust, to bring home that good ight arm, and embalnm it among the holiest iemories of the Past. For that right arm struck many a gallant low for freedom, yonder at Ticonderoga, t Quebec, Champlain, and Saratoga-that rm yondrr, beneath the snow-white mountain, i the deep silence of the deadirst raiscd in. light, the banner of the Stars. It was during the renowned expedition rough the Wilderness to Quebec, that Ar old encamped for two or three days beside ie River of the dead near a snow-white, ountiain, which arose, in lovely grandeur, ver alt other mountains, into the autumnal. ky. A siagle soldier aseended the nioun tin with the hope of bholdimg from its -um. t the rocks aid spires of Quebec. When e came down, Arnold took front his breast, ,here for days in privation, and danger he ad carried it, a blue hatmner, gleamitig with irteen stars. He raised it into light and >r the first time the Continental banner o;tted over the solitudes of the Dead River. his is a fact attested by history, and cor borated by tradition. A Mississippi Fight. Can it be possible that this handsome >okintg man is the far-famed Col Bowie?" hispered Mr. M -, in my ear. It is so," I replied ; and before I could dd muore, Biowie was by us. My friend troduced us, and soon we were conmversinlg >gether. " Ithave rnot seen you for some time," aid mny friend, at length. " I am just returmimng from a trip to thte Locky Mo.untains," said Bo'wie. " Really, Ir. M--, I wish 30ou had been along ith us. We had several fights with the ndiants, an~d int one of themi I received a 'llet int the arm. Uiafortunately for my iends the gammblers, it is nearly healed," nda terrible look passed over his features. or party htad a most desperate fightt witht pairty of lttdians near Coons Hollow here were twelve to one-but we beat them At this moment a loud shout caused us o turn our heads; alnost immtediately the ry of " A matt stabbed !" reached our ears. ioon the crow d opened, ad the gambller amne torth. His hands were covered--with loud, and in the right htantd he hore a huge tife, droppintg with blood. Suddenly, he urned, wipedl his knife ont the coat of a mian, who stou ttear him, and burst into a loud augh. - ahat's all this about?" exclaimed Col, 3. On hearing this, the gambler thrust the tife inlto its sheath, and approachled us. " Merely a asian stabbed-that's all," he aid. " Any of you gentlemen wish to play ards I" "I never play cards with strangers," said lowie. " Why not?" asked the gambler. " Because, for all I know to the contrary, he petson with whom I am playing may be Sgambiller," was the instant reply. On hearing this a large -crowd collected grund us. " Do you mean'to insult meI" " Insult you !" said Bowie, surveying the ther with a lock of contempt-" I insult 10 man, sir." " Because you are too much of a coward o do so," said the gambler, sneeringly. " Is his getntlemnan your friend I" " A new trienid, sir," replied Bowie. " Well, insulted him a few minutes ago," aid the' rambler. "Isa this true I" asked B~owie, turning to vr. M--. Mr. M--replied in the affirrmative. "What is your name ?" asked Bowie. " My name is McMullen," replied the ambler. " Ha !' exclaitmed Bowie, with a Iook of leight; " are you any relation to the duelist hat slew Jo~e Wingo a year agoI" " Y s; it was I that slow him," replied the ~ambh r. A terrible look passed over Bowie's face. " Ha !" he exclaimted. " Perhiaps you do ot know that Wingo was rpy cousin." gambler. "-If u wish, I will serve you the same way".I " Perhaps," "-ntinued Bowie, a strange smile creeping o 0r his features-" perhaps you do not-know hat I swore to avenge his death V" "Then step dt this way, and fight me like a man,"-safdihe gambler. "Grant me ote moment," said Bowie: "perhaps you do ot know that my name is Col. James irvieI " On hearingti dreaded name the gam. bIer staggered babk, and gaizing Bowie va cintly in tne faces he drew his hand across his eyes. ",Bowie ! Bow* !" he murmured faintly. " Aye, James sowie!" returned the other "Come, come, yau wanted to fight mue two minutes ago. I now cninly with your re quest. I am the challenged party, and therefore, I choose the weapons and place. Our meeting will4take place here, and our arms shall be the' M owie-knife." Have it as yrI wish," said the gambler as he threw off his coat. Bowie placed 109 hand behind the back of iis neck, and drew forth a huge Bowie kinife. Placing t between his teeth, he thew off his cot and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "I am ready," e said, in a clear, ring. ing tone. "So am 1," exclaimed the gambler. Three cheers fr Bowie were ggen by the crowd. Bowie smiled, while the gam bIer bit his lips with rage. " Make room hdre," said Bowie: " I can't fight without a clear field. Come, Mr. Mc. NJ ullen, are you ready 1" "Yes!" cried the gambler. Bowie raised his knife high above his head, and sprang upon him. Both struggled for an instant, arithen fell to the floor. They rolled overAe deck, the crowd mak ing way for them intil they reached the rail. ing. Suddenly, aistream of. blood flowed from the ganbler'siright arm, and ie uttered a cry of pain. Still, however, he did not release his hold. '.Again they rolled over, and again Bowie plunged his knife into his arm. Suddealy each released his hold of the other, and sprang to his feet. With the quickness of light9ing the gambler changed his knife from his right hand to his left, and sprang towards owie. Bowie met him half way, and drawing back his arm, he pluged his knife into his body; the gambler held up his hands, dropped his knife, and staggered back. 'Bowie followed him step by step, still plun 'ig his knife into his bo. dy. At the ftfth ,.ow the gambler fell dead. It is over," I id, drawing a long breath. "Gentlemen," id Bowie, placing his right foot up)o gambler's breast, and half extendig Irhis right hand, " this man insulted me, and I slew him. If any one wishes to avenge his death, let him step out." A MAx WiTHoUT MoNEY.-'-A man with. out money is a body without life-a walk. ing shadow-4a spectre that affrights. His lIok is doleful, his conversation is languid and heavy. If he wishes to pay a visit, he never finds any body at home and if he opens his mouth to speak, he is interrupted every moment in order that he may not fin ish the sentence, lest lie should end it by asking for money. lie is avoided as a pes. tilence, and is considered a useless clog upon the earth. If he have wit he cannot display it, and if he has none he is looked upon as the most frightful biped that Nature can create. When in ill humior-his enemies say Ihe is fit for nothing, and those best in. dlined towards him preface their eulogy by a shrug of the shoulders. Necessitiv awaits tim in the rmornring, and nmisery attends him to bed at night. The women find he is on. mannerly and vulgar, arid regard him with suspicion. Tfr~vernr kespers wish that, like the chrameleor.:; he would live upon air; and tailors that, like our first parer.ts, he would clothe himself with fig leaves. If he wishes to argue, he is not listened to ; and if he sneezes, lie is not heard; if he wants airy thing f roip a tradesmen, he is asked to pay beforehand, and if in debt, he is consid ered a rogue. GOOD ADVICE 'TO READER.-If you measure thne value of study by the insight you get into subjects, niot by the powver of sayinig you have read marty books, you will soon perceive that no time is so bandly saved as that which is saved by getting through a book ini a hurry. For if to the time you have given you added a little more, the subject would hav'e been fixed on your mind and the whole time profitably employed: wvhereas, supon your present arrangement, because you would not give a little more, you have lost all. Besides, this overlooked by rapid and super ficial readers-that the way of reading books with rapidity is to acquire that habit of se vere attention to what they contain, that perpetually confines the mind to the single object it has in view. When you have read enough to aoquire thre habit of reading without suffering your mind to wander, and when .you san bring to bear upon your subjeet a great share of previous knowledge, you may then read with rapidity ; before that aii you have ta ken the wrong road, the faster you proceed the more you will be sure to err.--Sidney Smity. _______ TnzE eminent Dr. Rush maya that the execise of the organs of the breast in sing. ing, contributes to defend thorn very much from those diseaaes to -which the cilmate and other causes expose them. The Ger mans are seldom afflicted with consumption, and spitting of blood is almost unknown among them-a fact attributed by Dr. Rush, int partto the strength which their lungs acquire by exerting thenm so frequently in vocial music, which eqnstitutes ani essential branch in their education, from their earliest years. ________ A mechanic in Cincinnati is wasting his talents in trying to ponihrnet a flying raa chine, and thinkcs he can succeed if he can only raise the wind. There will bee full as much difficulty, we apprehend, in getting ho wind to raie him. From the Detroit Daily Advertiser. MONEY IS A HARD THIG TO BORROW. Tus-;-Same as " Jordan." The times are so " tight," for the cash is hard to get, Though all hope they'll have some to-morrow; And every one looks blue, and are in such a fret, For money is a hard thing to borrow. So take down your" shingle" and shut up your shop, For money is a hard thing to borrow. Yes indeed! The banker lonks quite brave when you ask him for the ' chink," But he pays out the " ready" with sorrow, For he cannot stand a " run," and he now begins to think That money is a hard thing to borrow. Let him take down his " shingle" and shut op his shop, For money is a hard thing to borrow. Yes indeed! Thepoliticians stares, office costs a mighty lump, And the mouth of his purse is so narrow ; It ii just Io get some cash that he got upon the stump, Fiuding money was a hard thing to borrow. Let him take down his " shingle" and shut up his shop, For money is a hard thing to borrow. Yes indeed! The merchant is cast down with his loaded shelves in view. And no customer buys-to his sorrow; For soon, from Europe, he will get a billet-due, And money is a hard thing to borrow. Lot him take down his " shingle" and shut up his shop, For money is a hard thing to borrow. Yes indeed! rho whiskey maker sighs, for the drouth has killed the corn, - + And ie looks on the prospect with sorrow, For ho knows his friends won't stick when he has - not a " horn," And money is a hard thing to borrow. Let him take down his " shingle" and shut up his shop, For money is a hard'thing to borrow. Yes indeed! But honest men never fear, though there comes a mighty crash, And a note should fall due on to-morrow, Just call on your friends, they will spare a little cash, Though money is a hard thing to borrow. Ycu can keep up your "shingle" and open your shop, Thdigh money is a hard thing to borrow. Yes indeed I Just His Luck, Jedekiah Slocum was in love with Jerusba Simmons. Jedekiah was slightly given to jealously, and now and then had reason for it. Listen to him : One Sunday night I cum hum from mill after a three days ride, and Jerusha had a beau, dressed as smart as a dancing master. My heart jumped into my gullet the very minute I saw him. I felt dbwn in the mouth, for I know I was a gone fellow. He had on broadcloth. Talk of your new fangled Gossop and Gres hon houses now, but folks in them days didn't have but one room down stairs, and a ladder to go up stairs; a puncheon floor was good enough below, arid oak shanker split out by hand, kivered the chamher floor.1 It was so in boss's house, and I slept over the chamber. I want you to remember, my tow shirt, and I wvant you to imagine my feelings that night after I wvent to bed, for Jerusha atnd the dandy chap had the hull room below to themselves, with a rousing bright fire to spark. I couldn't stand the temptation to want to hear what they had to* say for themselves. Whisper ! whisper ! whisper You may laugh at it, but it is the naked truth I am going to tell. I have laughed myself at the same thing. When I heard sonethinig pop like a kiss, by ginger I could stand my heart thumps no longer. Curiosi ty and jealousy got the upper haind of me; I wanted to see for myself, so I slid out of bed sitting flat like a tailor on the floor, do termined to hitch up just as I sot, inch at a time, to the opening over the hearth where the gun hooks wvas. A cat couldn't been no stiller arter a mouse, but my heart thumped louder every hitch, just as it will wvhen a man goes to do what ain't right. WVell, jest as I had gain. J ed the right pint to look over at 'em, just til. ted the floor-dowvn I wvent, tow shirt, fas tened to the gun hook-and there I hung, blindfold, like a squirrel half skinned; right over mny rival arid sweetheart-ready for bathing. I was taken do avn by Jertsala's father, and next cday morning carpe to the conclusion to court a fresh gal---i a new looality.-N. Y. I Dutchman, H OARDING AND ENJoYIN,-An1 old man was toiling through the burden and heat of the day in cultivating his field with his own hand, and depositing the promising seeds into the fruitful lap of the yielding earth. Suddenly there stood before him under the shade of a huge linden tree, Fa divine vision. The old man was struck with amazemnent. " I am Solomon," spokfe the phantom, in a friendly voice. " What are you doing here, old man ?" " If you are Solomon," replied the vener able laborer, "how can you ask this? In my youth you sert me to the ant; I saw its occupation, and learned from that insect to be industrious and to gather.-What I then learned I have followed on to this hour.' " You have only learnied half your lesson, rsuqnedl the spirit. " Go again to the ant, nd learrs from that insect to rest jn tlyo win-. ter of your life, and to enjoy wbiat yop havs gathered up."_______ " WHAT monsters these ontton factors pist be," said Mirs. Partington; " I'm told sme of 'em has more thani a bundred~ hands,a Mgy poor Paul often wanted me to go and -e t, hut I' thinkefnl I nevne went" Miserable Condition of the English Troops in the Crimea. The correspondent of the New York Tri. bune, in a letter dated Jan. 4, at Constanti. nople, increases the sufferings of the Eng. lish army to a degree not yet ventured upon by the Times itself. The Tribune has the utmost confidence that the report is no ex. aggeration. The letter says : No sooner had news of the acceptance of the four points reached this place than it was bruted that a peace would positively ensue. It is also said that a dispatch was sent to Lord kaglan, stating that an armis tice might be expected soon, and I have heard it said that the news was quite a balm and a cordial to the poor suffering British soldiers in the ditches before Sebastopol. Of these sufferings, no one at a distance can form any correct view. When I tell you that after the battle of Inkermann there were but 12,000 fighting men left out of some 30,000; that, although 10,000 men have been added since then, the number of fight ing men still continues the same ; that the British hospital at Scutari at this moment ontains six thousand invalids, and that some two thousand men are at Balaklava waiting :o come down here to die, you may form some estimate of things. Friends of mine, >)oth English and American, who have re :ently visited Sebastippol, tell me that the niserable condition of the British camp forms t striking contrast with that of the French. Lord Raglan is despised, by his own officers is well as men,. to a degree almost amoun ing to insubordination. He is an old and eeble man; his own dwelling in the camp is L comfortable house, abundantly supplied ith furniture, and appearing to be the museum for all the knick-knacks stolen 'rom the Russian country-seats which once iood on the locality of the camp, but which as been burned by the freezing men for 'nel. He is never known to visit the troops, ior to look at the trenches; lie never orders, )r superintends a review of them; nor is he ever known to give any order showing an uiterest in their destitute condition and im. nense sufferings. When the news of his flevation to the grade of Field Marshal came )ut from England, it elicited a universal roan among all of the British troops, and ven from the officers, at the reckless and injust manner in which the Queen's govern nent had thrown it away upon an incompe ent, unworthy object. This, however, is in ct of unjust policy, done with the view of eeuring for England, in future history, all be credit of the landing in the Crimea, the >a!tles of Alma, Balaklava and Inkerman, ind the .... of Sebastopol. The French lave long since said that the English were in incunbrance to them, 'and that it pained hems thus to behold wretched and suffering iumanity without possessing the power to -escue. They freely say that the English ire brave men, but not soldiers; that they ire totally destitute of any knowledge of the idmninistration of an army; and, in.deed, they ow look upon them as no longer the nation rvhich they were in the time of Napoleon 1, The position of the British forces i's the nore exposed of the two, while their num. >ers are too few for the task assigned to hem. There are not enough men to afford i proper relief to those in the trenches. rhe soil of the Crimea is a mixture of clay md lime; there is, however, abundance of tone in layers, but the soil is soft, and when vet, becomes extremely miery. This is pe uliarly the case in the trenches, where the ~round is heavy, and the water alway~ from moe to three feet deep. Notw'ithstanding his, they must he occupied to save their wn lives~and that of their octogetnarian and emiimnbecile Field- Marshall. Imanginse a housand men standing a long night its win er-perhaps under a continuous fall of rain -jn these ditches, denied the right to sleep, md required to be ready at a moment's no lee to rise, rush forward and repel the at. ack of their never tiring, never-sleepsing foes. low arduous must be this service, will be een from ihe fact, that, in the 'face of cer ain death, these men often fall asleep and re bayoneted by the sorties, of which you ow and then read garbled accounts itn the >pers. Balsaklava is some six or seven miles roms the. British camp; the ascent is at irst steep, but afterward the road is rath r level, offering 'no other obstacle than the vant of a good rosadbed. The British ommander has foreseen nothing, and con-. equently prepared nsothmng, for winte 'tains have thsoroughly soaked the road, and endered it~ periectly impracticasble for man >r beast. Tlhe Comtnissariat is managed n a manner quite incomprehensible, and til of the English people here declare that seversl of its chiefs should be hunig for their Itter indifference and negligence. Imagsine he fact that the men in the trenches have to other food than dry biscuit, raw pork, ud unburned coffee, and that hundreds of hem are now in the Seutari hospital-bar acks here, with feet mortified from long ud continued exposure to the wet of the rences.-After weeks of wet, with no hange, and without the means of drying heir shoes or boots, the men give up in Ut. er despair, "from inability any longer to tand on their feet, and lie down to die, while heir comrades, in pulling off their soaked >oots, pull off the toes in them! incredible is it may appear, I have heard that the large teamer Jason contains a great number of oxes full of shoes and boots for these same nen-that they have been on board for ome five montns, and that each vsit to alaklava, the Captain and Purser begged he English Commissaries to take them, and ~ive them to the suffering men-but they ill not, because it requires an order from onme superior authority. -'This, I am assur d, is the case with many other objects of ~eneral utility to the poor, suffering English oldiers, than whom braver men never shoul lered a musket. The French must, and do,' eel petrfect contempt for the Britisly army. l'he superior French officers say tihat Louis miippe was right whemn he made 'Algiers a chool for their army; and there they have earned and1 practiced what now renders horms far., imperioe to tho Englieb The French, in pity for their suffering comrades of "perfidjuns Albion," are eigag ed in making a road for them from. their camp toward Balaklava, and passing their, rovisions from the Chersonese port, to the British depots. There lre materials for building a railroad from Balaklava to'the British camp, en route from -England,'but these cannot be used until the wet hisb'een succeeded by ice and cold weather. If, ther), heavy snows set in, God protect3he English army'! It will be frozen for-want of covering and fuel, and be daily andinight ly attacked by the Cossacks. The Turks here ask, with consternation. in their countenances, how all this is tl4eid. The seem to think already that their, own " days are numbered," and that neither French, English nor Russians will ever leave this country again. How A Nzw Yona DEFAULTER SQUAREs up.-The New York evening Post narrates a singular circumstance. A Ceshier of a Bank not a hundred miles froin Wall street, found his funds two hundied thousand dol. lars short at a time, when his accounts were about to be examined. He consulted-an attorney friend, who discovered thit he'had no property available to convert to cash-to cover the deficit, and advised him to tuike two hundred thousands dollars more, then, when the discovety took place, he would have something to negotiate with the Die. tors and induce them to refrain from.aspub. lie expose. The Cashier took the advice, and the money. The discovery occurredL he compromised with them for one iundrerd thousand dollars, and neither the stockhb-l ders nor the public knew anything of Ihe matter. Resigning his situation, he lived, respected by all, on his fortune, the other $300,000, and died during the current year. A SHORT SERMON-Owe no man anything. Keep out of debt, Avoid it as yot would war, pestilence and famine. Hate it wvithra perfect hatred. Abhor it with an entireand absolute abhorence, Dig potatoes, lir stones, peddle in tinware, do anything. tPt is honest and useful, rather than runin -debL As you value comfort, quiet, independente, keep out of debt. As you value -g4iooddi gestion, a healthy appetite, a plseid ten *, a-smooth pillow, pleasant dreams, aiShapjiy wakings, keep out of debt. Debt is tbip hardest of all taskmasters, the most crud-9f all oppressors. It is a millstone about tho' neck. It is an incubus on the heart.. :t spreads a cloud over the whole firamamnt of man's being. It eclipses the sunittbts out the stars it ditns and defaces the beauf. ful blue sky. It breaks up the harnony of nature; and turns lo dissonance all the yt.rsh of its melody. It furrows the forehead with premature wrinkles; it plucks the eye of its' light; it drags 'all nobleness and. kindness out of. the port and bearing of tian. - It takes the soul of 1ins langh, and all stateli ness and freedom from his *ailk. Coaio not under its accursed dominion. A plain spoken women recently visited a married women, and said to her.. " How do you contrive to amuse yourselt't "Amuse t" said the other, starting*; "do you know that l'have my house work to dot Yes, was the answer, ". I see you h e.it to do, but as it is never done, I concludi you must have some other way of passing your time." A few days since the editor of the Colum bia, (Texas) Democrat, found a snake four feet in length coiled up among the exchanges on his table. We never supposed that editors could be so near the devil, or rather that. the devil was so closely wvatching editors. A young gentlemana was one daj arrange ing music for a young lady to whomi he w~as paying his addresses. " Pray, Miss D. said he, " what time do you- prefer t' "O?' she replied carelessly, " any time will do but the quicker the~ better." STEPHEN PLEAsANTON, Eaq., the Fifth "Auf ditor of the Treasury Department of the United States, died in New York city, on Wednisaiay night, after an illness of -teni days. .He was in the seventy-ninth year of his age. For more than h'alf a century,. under twelve administrations, he was in tbe empilov of the government, and discharged every official duty with eredit to himself and benefit of the country. R ENTs IN WA LL srasE-r, N. Y -The- N~ Y. Evening Post, of yesterday says: As nmuch as fifty per cent advanee is ask1. ing for.WalL street rents . the consequence is, that rnyny offices are to be let. -Tw. ffices adijoining .Jauncey Court. which let severally for 82,500 and $3,200 'last year/ are now raised respectively to 65,000 and 66,200, which advance has been refused to be given. _______ -ANY man or woman may chance to~tnmn 2le into a gutter, but it is only a drunkard r idiot who makes no effort to. get out of! t again. _______ ETo WAR BRIDGE BURNT.--We .regret to?. earni that yesterday,. about noon, the -Eto alh bridge cauight firef(rom,. a' passing trains and notwithstanding the emartionas. pnade t'o save it, was' entirely consumed. We:un-' drstand that this bridge was the largest an& ost expensive one on the Road- and its. :estruction will be a severe loss to the St-atr and serionsly embarrass the shipment of freight until it is replaocd by another. The bridge watchman is seriously censuorsd fdr eglect of duty in the mnatter, he liv~ng~ been absent fromn his post at the time Tj0o ridge was'tiiscovered to be on fire.--MAn-t a lnte!. AN English sodier writes from the Cri nea that the sheet of paper forming hisjlet. er cost him #1,25! Sfray Wyan Biu&ca, eqs n de. Jvere a few Weei'o perdition, and I wouk go ith Ionk of imps to ,estaimy vote mn it.