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101999 IM9= "We will cling to the Pillars of the Temple of our liberties, and if it must fall, we will Perish amidst the Ruins." w. F. DURISOE & SON, Proprietors. EDGEFIELD -S C., APRIL 11, 1. - - _ig__ns ctpdmnitrA. NEOS EPISCOPOS, Editor. Ix prosecuting the enquiry in our last issbe, let us ask why it is that there is so much of earth and so little of heaven in the conversation of Christian people t " Let ,your conversation be in heaven," says an Apostle, " whence also ye look for the Sa. vior." But so far as intercourse with Church .members goes, in this particular, it would be difficult to ascertain from it whAt posi. -tion they occupy. In the olden time they that feared the Lord spoke often one to another, -on things pertaining to the desolation or prosperity of the Church. But in this age -of wordly progress, spiritual conversation forms a very small part of a professing Christian's communication with his brethren -or others. Those desiring to engage in it -rarely meet with any encouragement from those to whom advances are made, and hence, instead of " growing in grace and in the knowledge of ouir Lord and Savior Jesus Christ," there is very generally manifested a sad declension in spirituality among those who at the start seemed to "run well." And not only do these remarks apply to the daily intercourse of the brotherhood, but even at the Church, on the Lord's day, except when the stated services are going on, may be seen groups on the steps or under the shade trees in the Church yard, engaged in the discussion of matters which tend but little to the welfare of the soul or to the pros. perity of religion. A hundred changes are rung on the state of the weather and the prospect for the crops. Many sage expres sions of opinion are given in regard to the probable results of the Eastern War, the certainty of the acquisition of Cuba, afid the dark designs of the Know Nothings. Anything but Christ and heaven seems to meet with attention and interest. Well, not to extend this article, one of the causes, per. haps the chief cause of this state of things, is the very geieral neglect of the rending of the Holy Scriptures. Men read the news papers, they get interested in the things they treat of, and hence, when they meet together, they. are at no loss in talking about them. But let the great, the transcendantly important topics of Revelation be intro. duced, and at once there's an embarrassment manifested, the conversation flags and must either thange or stop. As respects the deep things-aye, and the simple things too-of the Book of God, the great majority of the Church, we say it in kindness, may be called Know Littles, with much more propriety, than can the term used to designate it be applied to that wide spread political party which affects ignorance of everything. And in the hope of soon presenting to our readers the importance of the study of the Scrip tures, and of giving them from time to time some thoughts on the wonders which they reveal, wve commend the above to their present consideration. APOSTOLIC SUCCESSION. A prominent trait in the human character is the importance it attaches to genealogical descent. He who can trace his pedigree a fewv generations back is apt to regard him self and to be regarded by others a man of some consequence, as one descended from an " ancient house." This is especially the case, wvhen in its course the line of succes sion exhibits a tin'ge of aristocratic blood, or encounters some extraordinary personage who has left an impress on the ago in which he lived; and the farther back the lineage runs, the stronger the claim to honorable ancestry. In matters ecclesiastic, the same propensi ty is manifested, the chief difference being that denominational is substituted for indi vidual claim, and identity of principle isI urged as the connecting medium. -Hence it is that every religious party in christen. dom, or nearly so, has proved conclusively, (to itself at least) its relationship to the prominent sects which have appeared at dif ferent ages of the Christian era: as the .ovatians, Waldenses, &c., &c.; and also shown as clearly that the orthodor fathers -were the exponents of its views; whilst a number of chains of succession through Popes, Bishops, Church government and or ,dinances have been made to reach the -" keys" which were committed to the fisher. man of Gallilee. Among the rest, the Church .mith which we are associated, whilst she -discaa all belief in the importanc of the thing, hsas yet been at some pains to show that her rights to this high succession rela tionship are not to be disregarded. Now it is our opinion that her pretensions are, to say the least, quite as good as any other. Yet being persuaded that none of them can be in every respect satisfactorily established, and regarding it of no special consequence that they should, we don't knowv but that it would be as well to withdraw the claim, and make an effort to resemble as ;nearly as ,possible, the model given us in -the New Testament. In travelling the i-oad 'of succession back to the Apostles, we should be likely to find some chasms over 'which it wonld be difficult to throw a bridge, so that we at last should have to use the wings of faith and fly over them. And in the " chain" of succession, there are several links of such .questionable temper and strength, that the safer course would be to lay hold upon the Hook to which it is fas tened-or, to vary the figure and employ the sublime language of the Scripture, let us in coming to Christ and hearing his words, be like the man that built his house upon a rock. He that does this shall never be moved. The Church that does this cannot be unsettled from its foundation by the shocks which will shake this old world to pieces, whilst that which is built upon the sandy foundation of human tradition, or the expositions of erring men, will be under mined and blown away by the storm of judgment which will fall upon it. We think that both reason and the Scrip. tures justify the position, that if the Church as an organized body had ceased to exist for years together, a body of believers, with the Bible in their hands, could form an associa tion possessing all the elements of an eccle siastical organization; and this is the ground )n which we contend thit an apostolic suc ession is not important to the existence of Lhe Church here, to the individual enjoyment of the blessings of Christianity, and to the attainment in heaven of the glory which survives the wreck and the decay of earth to the entering upon an " inheritance on high, undefiled and that fadeth not away, eternal in the heavens." (Original.) COKE AWAY. Come away from the charms of the world's gaudy show! Come, conic away, 0 come, come away, From the gilttering tinsel of beauty's bright glow. The thoughtless, the heartless, the gay. 0 linger no longer in faney's charm'd bowers, Whereptrfumes distil from deception's sweetflowers; ut come to the hearts of the loving and true Come, come away, coni away! Come away from companious that lead thee from home Come, come away, 0 come, come awav! [n the ways of detructioni theyll caous Whose feet wander far, far estray. Forgetful of God and unmindful of h rhey scorn the blest hope that thro' J rhen come to the home of the peaceft Come, come away, Come away! ome away from the false light of ft glare Come, come away, 0 come, come away! rho' her temple be gorgeous, her promises fair, Your trust she but seeks to betray. Tia a beacon of evil to tempt thy poor soul ro the rocks where the billows of wrath ever roll; But conic to the light that illumes heaven's way Come, come away, come away. WILLIAM CAREY.-One of the deputation f the Boston Baptist Board to Burmah, Rev. Dr. GRANGER, thus refers to his visit to the former home and the grave of CAREY: "In the library, I did not ask for CAREY's botanical specimens. In fact I forgot them. But they showed me what inter.ested me more, some of his manuscript works. There, for example, wvas his Sanserit Dictionary, in five huge folios of about. seven hnndred pa. ges each. There w as his Bengalic Dictiona ry, in manuscript, and other large works, any of which would have given any other man a world-wide reputation. Carey's own writing in Oriental characters is so neat and perfect, page after page, without an erasure or a blot, that one has to examine closely to convince himself that it is not printed. As I surveyed these huge tomes, and thought of the Herculean labors of the .man who learned thirty-eight languages that he might translate the Holy Scripture into them; as I thought of his want of early classical train ing ; as I thought of his labors as a profes sor in the Government College, and transla tor for Government, and as superintendent of an indigo factory one hundred miles from this, all which secular work he undertook that he might raise funds to carry on his mission work, I stood amazed at the cour age, boldness, and success of the man. God's grace gave the impulse. " Eustace, I can plod," shows the method of this, the most wonderful man of his age." CHRISTIAN SD1PATIIY. MAN was made for society. Alone he is wretched ; without communion with intelli gent beings, he cannot be happy. Man, in his best estate, needs his fellowv-man to rejoice with him in his prosperity ; and in hours of gloom and sorrow, he requires those to whom lie can make known his complaints and tell the miseries of his bleeding heart. Aye, he needs the sympathies of kind friends, who shall, in a measure, enter into the cir cumstances of this life, and feel and bear a portion of his woe. The Scriptures recognize this principle. Hence it is said, no man liveth to himself and no man dieth to himself. We are re quired not to rejoice, but to weep wvith those who weep. Our great Exemplar wvent to the house of mourning; he ministered com fort to the distressed ; he gave the weary and heavy .laden rest ; and offered consola tion to those who were bereft by affliction and death. There is nothing man can do that is more alleviating to the troubled spirit, than to extend to the crushed heart these Christian sympathies which are commended in the wvord of God. A kind word, a tender look, a gentle act, showing the feeling of a generous and sympathizing heart, is like oil upon the troubled -waters, dewv upon the crushed flower, or rain upon the thirsty earth. If we could properly appreciate the amount of good we might accomplish, the joy we nlight impart, and the grief wve might assauge, we would not be slow in going for swift in the exercise of Christian sympathy, and would more frequently realize the luxury of doing good.-Christian Advocate. TiE curative effect of faith is illustrated by the statement communicated recently to the public, by Dr. Alcott. as narated to him by a Methodist clergyman. The latter states that a young woman in extremely feeble health, came to the belief that if lie were to pray with her she would recover. After much hesitation he concluded to make an experiment-encouraged the invalid with the promise that he would soon gratify her wish, visited her to prepare her mind for the exercise; and when the hour at length ar rived, a good deal of parade and form was made, as if to give the mind more time to look at the subject, and the heart more time to fasten its faith on the great.Prayer.hearer and Prayer-answerer. When the prayer could be delayed no longer, he knelt solemn. ly by her bedside, and prayed most fervently and earnestly for her recovery. From this hour forth it is said she began to recover, and in an almost miraculously short time, was well. WHEN worthy men fall out, only one of them may be faulty-at the first ; but if strife continue long, commonly both become guil. ty.-FULLER. THE BLACKSMITH'S TRIAL. BY AUSTIN C. BURDICK. IN the fall of 1849, 1 was travelling in the West on business. I left the Mississippi steamboat at Columbia, Ky., having made up my mind to travel by land as far as Muhlenburg county, where I should strike the Green River far enough to the northward to take one of the small flat boats for the Ohio. Late one evening I arrived at the town of M- , intending- to take the stage from there on the next morning. The liar-room of the tavern was crowded with people, and I noticed that large numbers of the citizens were collected about the street corners, ap pearing to be discussing some matter of more than usual interest. Of course I became curious to know tho cause of all this, and at the first favorable opportunity, I asked thp ~ arouna me, and by simply listening, I gained an insight into the mystery. It seemed that there was to be a trial for murder there on the next day, and that the criminal was a young blacksmith, who had been born and brought up in the town, and who, until the present time, had borne a character above reproach. I endeavored to find out the particulars, but I could ascertain but lit'le upon which to depend, for different people gave different accounts, anid all who knew anything of the matter were too much excited to speak calmly. The murder had transpired only about a week before, and consequently the event was fresh in the minds of people. The only facts that came to me, upon which I could rely, were that a middle aged man, named Matthew Hampton, had been murdered and robbed, and that Abel Adams, the young blacksmith, had been arrested for the crime, and yvould be tried on the morrow. Some said that the murdered man's money, to the amount of over two thousand dollars, had been found on the young man's person; others denied this statement. Yet all sym pathized with the prisoner. He, was beloved by all his towvnsmen, and but a few of themi could believe anything of the reports that had crept into circulation. As I was in no particular haste, I resolved to remain in M- until the trial had come off, so I went and erased my name from the stage book where I had placed it, and themn informed mine host of my determination. On the following morning, at an early hour, the people began to flock towards the court.house, and [ saw that if I would secure a place I must join the crowd. I did so, and at length found myself within the building, and, as good fortune would have it, 1 made a standl near the prisoner's box. Ten o'clock was the hour fixed for the opening of the court, and before that time every standing place outside the dock was filled. Stagings were erected upon the outside under the windows, but these, too, were crowded. At the appointed time the court came in, and the prisoner was conducted to the box. Said prisoner was not more than five-and twenty years of aige. He possessed one of the most pleasing countenances I ever saw. It wvas one of those bold, frank faces, full of courage and good nature-just such a one as is unhesitatingly taken as the index of a pure and generous soul. He was a stout, athletic mani, and carried the palm at every wrestling-match in the country. I thought within myself, this man is no murderer. And yet we know not to wvhat extremities a man may be driven. Young Adams wvas quite pale, and his nether lip quivered as he found the gaze of the multi tuded.ixed on him; but his eye was bright and quick, but not defiant, yet bold. and hopeful in its deep blue light. The trial commenced. The complaint was clear and distinct, setting forth the fact that the prisoner, A bel Adams, " did with malice aforethought," kill, etc., on such a day on atthew Hlampton-in the first pae bys srking him on the head with some blunt-weapon-and in the second place by stabbing him in the breast, etc. To all this the prisoner pletded "niot guilty." Fromt the first testimony called up I learned tlie following facts: Near sundown one afternoon about a week previous, Matthewv Hampton stopped at the shop of the prisoner to get his hors s.h This Hampto was a wealh farmer, and his estatA lny to the southward near the Tennessee line, and only about fifteen miles from M--. He was known to have had some two thousand dollars with him at that time-money which lie had re ceived at Columbia for corn. It was nearly dusk when he started from the prisoner's shop. He took out his pocket-book to pay for the job of shoeing*his horse. This he did within the shop, and two persons were present who testified to the fact, and also that when the pocket-book was opened, a large binch of bank hotes were exposed. About an hour after Hampton left, the pri soner came out of his shop and went to his 'able, and having saddled his fleetest horse, e mounted and starte#at a full gallop, in the direction which fIatpton had taken. Next came two wipesses, " Mr. Simple and Mr. Jordan," both of them respectable citizens of M-, whtestified as follows: They had been in tFp edge of Tennessee on business, and were returning home. At about nine o'clock, on:the evening in ques. they came to the point, in the road where a high bluff overlooked the way; and while passing this, they were startled by seeing something in the m0olight which looked like a man. They at 6nce dismounted, and tound that which they had seen was the body of Matthew Hampton, all gore cover ed and bleeding. They had not been there more than a minute, when they were joined by a third man, who said that lie saw the murder commited, and, that the murderer fled towards M-. Simple and Jordan -both recognized this new coiner as one t ilger, and though his character was . means of the most exemplary character, that was no time for discussion. The bedy of Hampton was still warm; so that themnurderer could not have been gone long. Pilger had no horse, so Simple agreed to - remain by the body whileJordan and Bilger went in pursuit of the murderer. They put tWeir horses to the top of their speed, and in- half an hour they overtook the prisoner, whom Bilger at once pointed out as the man.. Jordan hailed the young blacksmith, and Tound him nervous and excited. He then asked him if he had seen IMatthew Hampton, and Adams replied in the affirmative, but h spoke in a very strange manner. After some expostulation the prisoner accompanied Jordan to M---, and there he was placed in the hands of the sheriff, and upon exomining his person, Mr. At length Henry Bilger was upon the stand. He was known by most of the peo ple of M--, and though nothing positive was known against him of a criminal nature, yet he was known to he a reckless, wander ing fellow, sometimes trading in slaves, and sometimes dealing in horses, and some times driving a flat down the Mississippi. lHe stepped upon the witnesses' block with a complaisant bow, and he gave his testimony clearly aid distinctly. He said he was coming down the road toward NI- on foot and when near the bluff lie heard a struggle, accompanied by loud groans and entreaties. He sprang for ward and arrived in season to see the prIson er leap into his saddle and ride off. The moon was shining at the time, so lhe could not have been mistaken. As soon as he found Mr. Hampton was, as he supposed, dead, he started to go aifter help. The mur dered man's horse fled towards, home, so he could gain no assistance in that way. He had nmot gene far, howvever, wvhen lhe heard the sound of horses' feet and on returning to the spot he found Simple and Jordan stand ing there. Blilger wvas crossed-questioned very se verely, but his testimony was not to be flaw ed. He was very explicit in all his state ments, and at the same time he professed to feel a deep regret that he wvas called upon to testify against a man for wvhom he felt as much respect as he did for the prisoner. At length young Adams arose to tell his story. He spoke clearly and wvith the tone of a man who tells the truth. He said that about an hour after Matthewv Hampton had left his shop, on the evening in question, he went to .the sink to wash his hands, and while there, he trod on something that at tracted his attention. lHe stooped and pick ed it up, and found it to be a pocket-book, and on taking it to the light, it proved to be Mr. Hampton's. He remembered that after Mr. Hampton had paidh him for shoeing the hose, lhe wvent to the sink after a drinik of wa.er, and then he must have dropped the book. The young blacksmith's first idea, he said, wa's to keep the book until Hampton came back, but upon the second thought, he resolved to saddle his horse and try to over take him and restore the money. According. ly lhe set off, and when he reached the bluff, his hor-se began to rear and snort. He dis covered something laying by the road sitie, and upon dismounting and going to it, he found it to be the body of Mr. Hampton, still wvarm anid bleeding. He first satistied himself that he could do nothing alone, and then he started back towards M- for as sistance. When he was overtaken by Jor. Idan and Bilger, the idea of having Hampton's money with him, broke upon him with stun ning force, and hence his strange and inco herent manner. When the prisoner sat down there w'as low murmur which told himn that his story was believed. But the judge shook hi! head, and the lawyers did the same, and the jury looked troubled and anxious. The pri soner's counsel did all he could to establist Ihis client's good character, and also to im. peach the character of Bilger, but he d.ouk not refute the testimony that had beer given in. When the judge came to charge the jury ie spoke of the testimony against the prison er, and of corroborative circumstances. In regard to the prisoner's'story, he said thal was very simple, .an d sounded very much like the truth ; but he would have the jury remember how easy such stories could be made. It was long after dark when the jury re tired to make up their verdict. They were gone half an hour, and when they returned the foreman showed by the hue of his coun tenance that the verdict was fatal! All saw it, and I could hear the throbbing of the hundred hearts that beat about me. "Gentlemen of the jury, have you. made a verdict I" We have." "Shall your foreman speak for you ?" Yes." "Abel Adams, stand up and look the foreman in the face. Now, sir, is Abel Adams, the prisoner at the bar, guilty of the murder or not I" Hark! The first syllable of the word, "Guilty," is upon the foreman's lips, but he speaks it not. Those who yet crowd about the windows shout with all their might, and in a moment more a man crowds his way into the court room. He hurries up and whispers to the judge. Henry Bilger starts up and moves towards the door, but in an instant the hand of the sheriff is upon him. All is excitement the most intense. Direct ly the mass at the door begins to give way, and four men are seen bearing upon their shoulders a chair-a large stuffed chair and in that chair sits Matthew Hampton not dead but alive. True he is pale and his lips move. At length the chair is set down before the bench, and the old physi. cian of M- asks permission to speak. As soon as this fact became known, all is quiet once more. The physician says that neither of the wounds which Mr. Hampton had received is mortal, 'though he at first thought they were. Tho blow upon the head, and, the stab in breast, combined to produce a case of cata lepsy which resembled death so nearly that many an experienced person might have been deceived. When he gave out that Mr. Hampton was dead, he thought it was so. But when he found that Hampton was living he kept the secret to himself, for fear that a certain man, whose presence was much needed, might be missing. At this juncture, Mr. Henry Bilger made a savage attempt to break away from the sheriff, but did not avail him. The jury were directed to return to their box, and then Mr. Hampton was reauested to sneak. moe roadside. He had just time to see that it was Henry Bilger, when he received a blow upon the head from a club that knock ed him from his horse. Then he felt a sharp, stinging, burning pain in the bosom, and with a momentary starting of his muscles he opened his eyes. He saw that Bilger was stooping over him, and ransacking his pockets. le could just remember of hear ing the distait gallop of a horse-that lie thought his body was being dragged-to the roadside ; and after that he could remember nothing till he awoke in hi! own house, and found the doctor by his bedside. For a little while longer the multitude had to restrain themselves. I remember that the judge said something to the jury, and that the jury whispered together for a moment, then the prisoner stood up once more, and the foreman of the jury said, "not guilty." Then burst forth the hearty shouts of the people. Abel Adams sank back into his seat, but in a moment more he was seized by a score of stout men, and with wild and rending shouts they bore him into the free, pure air, where the bright stars looked dowvn and smiled upon them. A little way had they gone, when they. met a young woman whose hair was floating in the night wind, and who rung her hands in agony. They stopped and set their burden down. Abel Adams saw the woman, and sprang forward and caught her to his bosom. " Mary-Mary-i'm innocent-innocent -and free." The wife did not speak. She only clung wildly to her noble- husband and wept upon his bosom. A wvagon body was torn from its axeltree -the blacksmith and his wife were placed therein ; and then they were borne away towards their home, and long after they had passed from my sight, I could hear the glad shouts of the impulsive people, waking the night air, and reverberating among the distant hills. On the next morninlg,- before the stage started, I learned that Matthewv Hampton had determined to make the young lack smith accept of one thousand dollars, wheth er ho was willing or not. Twvo weeks afterwvards while sitting in the oflice of my hotel at Cincinnati, I re ceived a newvspaper from M--; Henry Bilger, had been hanged, and on the gallows acknowledged his guilt. Matthewv H ampton was slowly recovering, and the blacksmith had, after much expostulation, accepted the thousand dollars fr-om Hampton's bounty. A w~oman will cling to the chosen object of her heart like a possum to a gum tree, and you can't separate her without snapping strings no art can mend, and leaving a por tion of her soul upon the upper leather of your affections' She will sometimes see something to love where others will see noth ing to admire: and when her fondness is once fastened on a fellowv, it sticks like glue and molasses in a bushy head of hair. " Cosa, I wants to ask you a conomdri us." " Well, Pomp, pureced, and 'spress yer. sef." " Why is a colt getting broke like a young lady getting married i Guve that up?" " Yes, I guvo that up " fore you ax it." "Kase he is going through a bridal cere *TH NEW POSTAGE LAW. The new postage law passed at the recent session of Congress, went into operation on the 1st inst. The following are its provi sions, to which attention must be paid by those mailing- letters. It will be seen that unless the postage is pre-paid no letter will be sent from the office in which it is depos ited. That from and after April 1st, 1855, the single rate of postage on a letter conveyea in the mail for any distance between places in the United States not exceding three thou. sand miles, is three cents; and for any dis tance exceeding three thousand miles, ten cents. That from and after April 1st, 1855, pre payment, either by stamps, stamped envel. opes or in money, is compulsory. That from and after January 1st, 1856, all letters between places, in the United States must be prepaid, either by postage stamps, or stamped envelopes. The existing rates and regulations in re gard to letters to or from Canada and all other foreign countries remain unchanged. Absolute pre-payment being required on all letters to places within the United States from and after April 1st, 1855, great care should be used, as well in pre-paying the proper amount on letters above the weight of half an ounce as on a single letter. The provisions in regard to the registra tion of valuable letters will be carried into effect and special instructions issued on the subject as soon as the necessary blanks can be prepared and distributed. The following explanatory instructions in relation to the operation of the new law have also been issued by the Post Office Department. 1. The act of 3d March, 1855, making no provision for unpaid letters to places within the United States, on the same or day fol lowing any such unpaid letter or letters be ing put into a Post Office, the Postmaster thereof will post up conspicuously in his office a list of the same, stating that they are held for postage. If not attended to, such letters must be returned monthly to the Dead Letter Office. 2. Letters part paid should be dispatched, charged with the additional postage due at the prepaid rate aceording to the distance, established by said act, except where the omission to pay the correct amount is known tn hzm4VA han n paid rate according to distance, established by the act of March 3, 1855, aforesaid. 4. -Ship letters, as they cannot be prepaid, and are not supposed to be embraced in the new act, will continue to bo despatched agreeably to the provisions of thn fifteenth section of the act of. March 3, 1825. H1ooNs TO THE LATE hZtPEROR OF Rus st.4.-A letter from Berlin, Prussia, says: " The death of Nicholas has made a pro found impression on the court of Berlin, and particularly on the king, who is reported to have been for some time in a state border ing on frenzy. Unusual honors are paid to the memory of the deceased, all the thea tres are closed, and the whole Prussian army is put in mourning. Quito a mob of princes and princesses are passing through this city for St. Petersburg, to express their sympa thy with the bereaved family, and to be present at the funeral, which, it is expected, will soon be followed by that of the Em press, w~ho has been for years in a most deli cate state of health, and will probably not long survive heri husband." Tua COURAGE TO DO RIGUT.-What more noble attribute of our nature than to do right, the fearlessness of truth, crucify ing to the obligations which it imposes, al] hypocrisy, every principile which militates against the advance of the ::oul. The mere recognition of wrong is as much the ability of a wvise man as that of a fool, and vice versa; but he who is indeed wise, thinks not when that recognition teach es him wvisdom. The fool stumbles at the threshold of light. He shuts his eyes to the picture that light affords of the true proper ties of his mind. By its low desires, its unhallowed pleasure, he is ever incited tc delay all self-examination, and to flatter him self that in his disguise there can be no de. tection. Alas ! that that nature which is hound tc progress by its own origin, which claims connection wvith God, ever should perveri the bright properties which that origin has conferred, from its uprooted progression tc a consort with things of earth, to a unioi of matter- without the spirit. But joy, unspeakable joy, when true to its relationship with eternity,- true to its truth and integrity, true to its innate promptings, the soul claims to be heard against even: itself; and boldly chastises when wrong has beer done; when conscious that its errors have been of its own choice, it applies, without shr'inking, the jnst deserts wvhich reason de mands. A CITY BANKRUPT.--he City of Phila delphia has applied to the State Legislature for a temporary lokn, as an immediate neces sity. The Pennsylvanian says the amouni required by the City, to place her finances in even a respectable condtion, is one il lion and a half of dollars. A sporting gentleman' in Newv York offers to bet a large amount that during the com ing summer he will drive from the Astor House to Union Square in a light wagon drawn hy rats. Hie calculates that he car accomplish the task with one hundred rat! in harness. A single pound of flax thread, intended for the finest specimens of France Lace, is valued at six hundred dollars, and th'e lengtl of the thread is about two hundred ani twenty six miles. One pound of this threat is more valuable than two nnnnds of gold JEROME BONAPARTE GOING TO FRARCE, The Baltimore correspondent of the Wash ington Star says: I learn that our much esteemed townsman Jerome Bonaparte, will leave in the course of a few weeks for France, w lere it is his pur pose to reside permanently, after due ar rangements shall have been made. His present designs, however is to visit Paris and make arrangements for a future residence there with his family. It may be known to our readers that he became a citizen ,of France on his last visit, and if I mistake not had titled honors conferred upon him. Young Jerome, his son, is now at the Cri. mea, holding a lieutenant's commission in the French army, with prospects of promo. tion, if successful in a military career, not only to high rank, but even to the imperial throne. There is a wonderful magic in the name of Bonaparte with the French nation; and no one can tell, should fortune smile, discovering at the same time Napoleon ge nius and talent in this young man, to what degree of eminence he may rise. There is a wide and inviting field before him, with chances of placing himself upon the throne of France. Such an event may be remote but it is within the range of probabilities. He always bore a high reputation here, and was marked by nature for his amiablene~s of character, together with firmness, bravery and intelligence. It will be a matter of regret to lose from among us so valuable and highly esteemed a citizen as Monsieur Bonaparte, but the residue of his days may possibly be passed more agreeably in-a country where he stands so nearly related to nobility, and where his very name is a spell word. Should advirse circumstances, however, occur at the Cri mea to thwart the hopes and prospects of his son, a different course may be pursued. Lady Bonaparte is a native of Baltimore, a plain republican, and to find herself amidst the royal or imperial family may prove a sa perd home in the city of rhonuments. NEWSPAPER qUARRELS. We t*ake this time, when our words will not be applied to any special case, to state our views on the subject of newspaper quar, rels. We have never taken notice-of any of our cotemporaries when they have assail ed or misrepresented us in their columns, for we believe the readers of our paper do * ... Gwl havO sautigtid Ill a pauunL controversy, and at its close could truly say - that they had neither lost their self-respect nor fallen in. the estimation of judicious friends. We believe that at the close of the editorial career of those who in times past have conducted partisan papers, either re ligious or political, the best men of the num. ber have looked back upon their personal quarrels and newspaper squabbles with those of rival parties or different sects as the least profitable portion of their lives. The men tal vitriol they have thrown upon their oppo nents has irritated, corroded,. and poisoned their own hearts. A war of words is to be avoided if possible; and where it takes two to fight, the wisest course is to follow the sacred injunction, " to leave off contention before it is meddled w.ith." A quaint Eng lish writer has, with great truth, compared a quarrelsome, aggressive disputant to a volcano; the lighter portions of what it vomits forth are dissipated by winds; the heavier ones fall back into the throat wvhence they were disgorged. Whatever other offen ces we may commit, we mean never to have a newspaper quarrel; and whether our daily oontemporaries throw a squib, or the wveekly journals level a heavy column at us, we shall meet it all with what Charles Lamb styled "the primitive discourser"-silence.-Bos ton Transcript. OUT DOOR ExERCS.-lt is owing mainly to their delight in out door exercise that the elevated classes in England reach a particu lar age, notwithstanding their habits of high living, of late hours, of wine drinking, and many other health destroying agencies; the. deaths of their. generals, their lords, their earls and their dukes, are chronicled almost every week, at 70, 80 and 90 years ; it is because they will be on horseback, the most elegant, rational and accomplished of all forms of mere exercise, both for sons and daughters. But the, whole credit of Ion-. gevity in these classes, must not be given to their love of field sports, it must be divided wvith the not less characteristic traits of an English nobleman-he will take the world easy ; and could we, as a people, persuade ourselves to do the same thing habitually, itswould add ten years to the average of hu-. man life, and save many a broken heart, and broken fortune, and broken construction. -Hall's Journal of Health. WoxZAN's RIGHTs IN ILLIYOI.-The 01l 'lowing resolution was adopted by the H-ouse of Representatives of the illinois Jaegisla ture: Resolved, That a fine of $500 be here after imposed on any lady w~ho shall lecture in public in any part of the State, without first putting on gentlemen's apparel. THE Knoxville Whig says: John Mitchell known as the Irish patriot, reached our city last week, and took rooms at the Coleman House. He has a wife and five children, and comes to settle in this vicinity permanently, as he inform~s us. His wish is to purchase a farm, net far from this city. Mr. Mitchell is a small man, rather spare made, and is, we should say, about forty years of age. He is genteel in his dress, rather easy in his manners, and in the absence of any information on that point, we should say he has been well raised. We see nothing inli face indicative of' superior talents, and--in his conversation he is mild and prudent, so far as our observation extends. lHe that hath no money bdedeth no purse.