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Ajj 2, .i ~x x . btu t t S-uti) an S.Ot~a Utt . * 4 l 1 1 A Iw . I 1 ! ! iI 1 s" } "We will cln totePlaso-h epe:.0r.Lbris n ti attl, .jI~. ..DBSESHPoreos DE' 1S.. UE6 'THE EDGEFIELD ADVERTISER IS PtBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY . F. DUBISOE & SON, Proprietor:. - -Two DOLLARS per year, if paid in advance-Two DOLLARS, and FIFr Csrs if not paid within six months-and Tants DOLLARS if not paid before the expiration of the year. All subscriptions notdistinct, ly limited at the tine of subscribing, % ill be consider ed as made for an indefinite period, and will be con tinued until ali arrearages-ara paid, or at the option of the Publisher. Subscriptions from other States must INVARIABLY be accompanied with the cash or refer ence to some one known to us. ANYaEltTIBsEENTs'ril'be conspicuously inserted at 75 cents per pare (12 lines or less) for the first in sertion, and 371 cents fbr each subsequent insertion. When oIly published Monthly or Quarterly $1 per equaueillbecharged. AllAdvertisementsnothavimg the deired-number of insertions marked on the mar ;gi.n, will be continued until forbid and charged ac corlitrgly. Those desiring to advertise by the year can doso on 1ibsal'terms-it being-distinctly understood that con tracts for yearly advertising are confined to the imme diate, legitimate business of the firm or individual - contracting. 'Transient Advertisements must be paid for in'advance. For announcing a Candidate, Three Dollars, Ix ADVANCE. For Advertising Estraya Tolled, Two Dollars, to be paid by the Magistrate advertising. NEOS EPISCOPOS, Editor. .::r We regret to say that indisposition, and other causes co-operating have prevent ed us. from preparing our usaal amount of editorial this week. We hope, however, to make .amends in our next issue, by present ing some thoughts of interest, both to Jews and Gentiles,. and on which there will not . likely be any disagreement in the household of faith. The discussion of such subjects is generally considered to be of more utility than those of a contraversial character, and whilst wo are not entircly prepared to admit its ~correctness, we are nevertheless compell - ed at present, to "give ip" to the general sentiment. -:O WE are requested to say that there will be, the Lord willing, an ordination'of one or more individuals to the office of the deaconship, at Horn's Creek Church, on the 2d'Lord's day in this mouth. By request of the Pastor we.hdpe to be in attendance. 0::r ALL persons to whom E. L. WUAT. r~zy batgiven, or may hereafter rive receipts Or su crip tons" o e out tern aptist, are requested to enclose them to him at this Post Office,. whenever the receipt of the money is acknowledged in the paper. This request it is presumed, needs no explanation. IS RELIGION BEAUTIFUL? Always! in the child, maiden, the wife, the mother, religion shines with a holy, be nignant beauty of its own, which nothing of earth can mar. -Never yet was the female character perfect without the steady faith of piety. Beauty, intellect, wealth ! they are like pit-falls, dark in the brightest day, un less the divine light, unless religion throws her soft beams around them, to purify and exalt, making twice glorious that which seemed all loveliness before. Religion is very beautiful-in health or sickness, in wvealth or poverty. Me never enter the sick chamber of the good, but soft music scoems to float an the air, and the burden of their song is, " Lo ! peace is here" Could we look into thousands of families to-day.where discontent fights sullenly with life, we should fin~the chiel cause of unhap *piness, twant of religion in wcoman. And in felon's- cells-in places of crime,. misery, destitution, ignorance-we should behod in all its most terrible deformity, the fruit of irreligion in woman. Oh, religion ! b'enignaint majesty, high on -thy throne thou sittest, glorious and exalted. Not above thte cloud, for eartheiouds come -never between thee and truly pious souls not beneath the clouds, for above these is heaven, ojiening through a broad vista ol exceeding beauty. Its gates are the splendid jasper and pro. e'ious stones, with a dewy light that neither flashes nor blazes, but steadily -proceedeth from the throne of God. Its towers bathed in refulgent glory have ten times the bright * ness of ten thousand suns, yet soft, undaz iling to the eye. - And there religion, points. Art thou weary I it whispers, "rest-up there-there forever. Art thou sorrowing, rejoice." Airt thou weighed down 'with unmerited ignomi ny I "-kings and priests are in that holy. - -home.-Art thou poorI "the very street before thy mansion shall be gold." Art thou frieodless I "the angels shall be thy compan 16n and God thy Friend and Father." r. religion beautiful I We answer, all is desdiIetions and deformity where reiligion is RuLIsloN IN' EV4'ltffIG.-There is re --igion in everything-around us; a calm and boly religion in the 'eybreathing things of patui-e, which man .svould do well to imitate. -.Jt is a meek and blessed intfuence, stealing, as: it -were, unaware upon the heart. It Moses-it has no terror, no. bloom in its apptoaches. 'It has not to rouse up the pas dIon-E : is untrammelled, .wiled by .the edes and unshadowed by .the superstitions oIman. it is fresh from the hands-of the ab1~i end- gldiu~ from the immediate .pe ee' G'rla;et Spirit which pervades sut qsicuemviii I-Alooks out from every -*tar. ItJsamong the hills and valleyVs of Ctb4thiWAO thalasileas tmountain-top 'rpierees Ieigoar o' .eternal, win 9;;o-hlisereg mest fluctuates orhiirbagr '.ita park waves af folinge lt- vedeouts likesa :aaggajo~teidfdeofth * eiqnyooai4I 'ier~rytIeav-. ~en.. Itis this that uplifts -the spirit egi ,s, until it is tail. dugiih.-to, oYigof'the skuaddbws.of' otr pae of pvtieJ1a;- ~isii lugeajms, link afteS lIII the *baitiitahidd ix W.i6;rdned - an'd uhich Oann to~iinau. nation a world of spiritual beauty and holi. ness.-Whittier. ONE MINIUTE TOO LATE. A beautiful woman was condemned to die on the scaffold. Her youth, her loveli ness and reputed innocence kindled in the hearts of multitudes the keenest sensibility for her melancholy fate. The thrune hl been besieged with earnest supplications for her pardon-but still withoutasuccess; white hope yet whispered that at the last moment the heart of royalty might melt and grant the boon. The appointed day has coate crowds gather on the fatal spot-the hour when she must die draws near. The last ray of hope expires, when, afar in the'dis. tance, a messenger comes-he rides. like lightning over the plain. He comes-he comes. But the fatal hour has come before him -the fatal blow is struck-her life blood mingles with the sand, when, lo!.the messenger arrived the pardon is in his hand; but it come one minute too late. Sinner you are under sentence of death. He that believeth not is condemned already. The hour of execution is rapidly drawing near. Each day (hat passes, brings that set time one day nearer. It will soon open on your eyes. The King has pardon in his heart and his hand. But he will be inquired of to grant this boon for you. While you live, perhaps the day of grace lingers. Perhaps it is just closing, and the night of despair setting in. Your suit, pressed now, may prevail. The pardon may be granted. Your soul may be saved. But soon the fa. tal, hour of death, must come. You are stretched on a bed of pain. Disease has laid his iron hand upon you, and now is feel ing for your heart-strings. A moment more, and you are out of mercy's reach. The voice of friendship shouts in your ear, be. seeching you to pray. You turn a dying eye to heaven. You raise an expiring voice to God. But the eyeli: falls-the voice chokes-the life-blood stops. It is one minute too late. AN ANECDOTE OF CAIVIN.-The late Al. bert Gallatin, President of the Historical Society, related the following anecdote to the Hon. Gulian C, Verplanek, from whom we get it: Several years ago, a number of Calvin's letters u ere found among the ar chives of Geneva, some of which, relating to his domestic affairs, exhibit a curious.picture of the daily life of this great Presbyter, and illustrate strikingly his peculiar habits and temper. In a scolding letter to the sydics, eine of poor quality. " I do not keep open house," he says, " nor do I entertain many guests at my table, and therefore the quantity you have sent me displeaser. me, as well as the quality. I wish, therefore, you would take it away, and replace it with something that I 'can drink ; I do not want much, merely enough for my own use and that of my family ; a few barriques (barrels of about forty gallons each).say four or five, will be sufficient for me once a quarter !" We are afraid the Prysterians of this cen tury have been tremendous backsliders. When shall we see such men as Luther and Calvin. I.. THE DAISY. By JOHN MASON GOOD. Not worlds on worlds, in phalanx deep, Need we to prove a God is here The daisy, fresh from winter's sleep, Tells of His hands in lines as clear. For who but He who arehed theskies, And pours the day-spring's living flood, Wond'rous alike in all He tries,. Could rear the daisy's purple budi Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, It's (ringed border nicely spin, And cut the gold embossed gem That, set in silver, gleams within ? And fing it unrestrained and free, O'er hill and dale and derert sod, That man, where'er he walks, may see, In every step the stamp of God ? ExNJon1ENT in religion depends on ob serving little home duties-or fireside piety. An occasional effort to do some great thing may ease the conscience for a wvhile ; but it is only the spirit of Christ carried into the family, every day life, softening the temper and rendering the hearts affectionate, which can impart a habitual elevation and serenity of mind. TUB MAGNITUDE OF THE EAnTI.-AC cording to a recent authority the circum ference of the globe is twenty-five thousand and twenty miles. If is not so easy to com preend so stupenduous a circle as to put down its extent in figures. It becomes more palpable perhaps, by comparison, such as this :-A r-ailway train travelling incessantly night and day, at the rate of twenty-five miles an howr, would require six weeks to go round it. The cubical bulk of the earth is twvo hundred and sixty thousand millions of cubic tniles!l Dr. Lardner says, if the materials which, form the globe were built up in the form of a column, having a pedes tal of the magnitude of England and Wales, the height of the column would be nearly four-and-a-half millions of miles. A tunnel through the earth, from England to Newv Zeland, would be nearly eight thousand miles long. " MR. JONEs, does the court understand you to say that you saw the editor of' the Auger of Freedom intoxicated I'' " Not at all, air ; I merely said that I had seen him so frequently flurried in his mind that he would undertake to cut-out copy with the snuffers -that's all." MAY ought alasto have something that he prefers to life, else life itself will appear tiresome and void. - A PRnur.-" If a lady were lame in the arm and in the left leg, if she were blind in one eye and could not see with the other, if sh had no teeth and her gums were worn ef~if she were clubfooted, and had a can 'S ~.rnose, and had a spit fire teniper brye oe gonaa sventy-fiv.thousand THE BROTHERS. In '49, the principal " banking institutions of the chance kind," in San Francisco, were the "Bella Trion," "Verandah," "Mine d'Oro," "ElDorado," and "Parker House," all sltuated about the plaza, and each em ployed aeband of music to lesson the tedi ous hours of that rainy winter, and to drown the noise of dingling gold and silver and the cursing ejaculations of the gamesters. Ma ny a sad scene has taken place within those saloons, that chilled the blood of the behol ders, and is remenbered ith horror ! I was once carelessly sa ri g through one of they places. 11y ention was attracted towardstperso who had' large piles of gold before him the starting eyeballs, the swoller veins .uponh his forehead, the cold sweat upon his face and clenched hands, !told of heavy losses; mingled exclamations of horror and contempt would escape him, and he seemed unconscious of all else go. ing on around him; his gaze bent upon the cards as if his life's blood was the stake at issue; and in this case his last dollar was put within the dealer's bank, when, with the frenzy of a maniac, he drew a long dirk knife and plunged, it up to the hilt into his own body and sank a corpse upon the table. A few rude jeers followed the act; the body was removed, and the game went on as though nothing had happened-as though another victim ;had not been added to the page of the gambler's damning record!-or another soul had not gone to its final ac count! I learned this much of his history: He started with a large stock of goods, given him by his father, to sell on commission, and the father's fortune depended upon a sure return of the money he invested; but, as usual with young men, he indulged in the full liberty of unbridled license, and while the ship stopped at one of the South Ameri can ports he engendered the first seeds of " play ;" but for a while after his arrival, the excitement of trade and the energy neces sary to accomplish a successful issue, kept his mind busy. One day, by appointment, he was to meet a mercantile friend at his house, and while waiting for his friend, he staked a few dollars upon the turning cards, when the latent disease sprung into life, and it carried him headlong over the precipice, and ended in the tragic manner related. ted a a on Washiangton street,an roon retua opposite the " ElDorado," and in '49 it was the principal resort of the disbanded sol diers of the California regiments, and also of the soldiers who had been engaged in the war with Mexico. Behind one of the largest monte banks in the room, sat-a man who had won for himself honorable mention, and an officer's commission was given him for his bravery at the storming of Monterey; but, preferring the climate of California and its golden prospects to a more northern home, he embarked for that country at the close of the war with Mexico, and upon his arrival he opened a bank for gambling. The emigrants came in by thousands, and a few nights after his arrival, a young man entered this saloon and seated himself at the bank, and staked various sums upon the cards, until he had lost nearly all the money he possessed. Excited with the play and maddened by his losses, he accused the dealer of cheating; the dealer replied Eharp ly to the accusation-the lie passed, when the young man struck the dealer a severe blow upon his face; as quick'as thought the sharp report of a pistol followed, and the gambler's clothing was covered with the young man's blood-he had shot him through the right breast. The room was soon cleared of the spectators present, the doors closed, and medical attendance called in aid of the wounded man. T1he gambler sat moodily over his bank, running the small monte cards through his fingers, and perhaps thinking over the deed just perpetrated, when the wounded man gave a moan of agony as the doctor's probe reached the bottom of his wound. The doctor inquired what State he was from, and the wounded man replied, " from Vermont." Tihe gambler raised his head, for it had been a long time since he had seen a person from tho bomne of his childhood, and Ver mont being his native State, the mere men tion of its name interested him. 'rho doc tor inquired the name of the place where his parents resided, if he had any. The wounded'replied-" Montpelier." 'The gambler sprang to his feet, his limbs trembled; and his face was as pale as death, for Montpelier was the home of his youth, and perhaps the wounded man might have been his playmate in childhood-perhaps a schoolmate-knew his parents, his brothers and sisters. He clung convulsively to the~ table, and with the contending emotions of rapid thought and the weight of the injury he had inflicted, hie could scarcely keep up on his feet.. A stimulant was given the wounded man, and he was momentarily re lieved from that weakness the body is so subject to after a severe wound-when the doctor inquired .if theme was any friend in the city, he wished sent for "Yes," he replied, "my wife-she is at the City Hotel, on the corner of Clay and Kearny streets-tell her to hasten, for I am badly hurt." A man was sent to bring his wvife. " Doctor," said - the gambler, " save that man's life, and there is my bank, and *10, 000 in Burgoyne's-you shall have it alL" The doctor felt the pulse of the man and probed the wound anewv. The gambler watched him with great anxiety until his inspection.-was 6nished, wvhen the doctor shook his head in token of impossibility; the gambler sat down by the side of the wounded man aind bathed his head with water, and stauncbed the flow of blood from the wound until the arrival of the wife;- she .ame, accom led by a few friends, and as heroic' worn beai- their misfortunes, she bore hers. Not s word of reproach escap ed her-words dfeheerfulness only came from her lips a the. tears coursed clown her cheeks. Totheinquiry as to the chance o1 her husband fiilpovery the doctor -assured her that there tas no. hope, that tha wound was. mortal;; that in a few hours he would die. nk down upon her knee. and invokedtNtibery of a forgiving. .God for-her dyig husband and his murderer, The gamblfr d the forgivness. of the wounded n ,aif th wrong he had cm" mitted, sad al t of the wife, whidh wks readily grant. " This," dandd," :is not for obeying the sacred idjonctlms of my aged''father and niotder.o-n t kijit ie I have faced death a thousand aim and still I have escaped; the balls of -ai neyin have whistled past my ears as thi : hail stones, and the bursting boinbl exploded at my feet; still I have .lived oh, God ! and for this! High above r_ red tide of battle I have carried my- coun; 's ensign-and that won for me a nam a .ug men-when not one comrade wa s tell of the deeds in the battle, I esca cathed. Why was not I killed like. t t! All that was proud and pleasing tob I have had; and if I could recall tbik ' .at act by living upon carrion, sleeping a pauper's grave, and renouncing ever- proud act of my life, I would do it. w4 born in the same village with that man;-e have been classmates together ate the 'me school; received in st, uctions of the' e aged man; we were born beneath tie 'me: roof, and, oh God ! the same mother lea us birth! - He must not die-he is.n other!" And th'e gambler sank down in a swoon upon the floor. .'The. wounded man raised himself upon his elbowa; his glassly eyes wandered about room as if in search of some particular i'on-" Mary," said he, is brother WiI&m here i I-" and the words choked 'n his throat, the gurgling blood stopped -, utterance, and. he sank back a corpse .up' whis pillow. The wife knelt again, but it was beside a dead body, and invoked the. ercy of God upon his soul, and forgivene for the murderer. The gambler'a ke from his swoon, and staggered up to hibrother's wife and said: " Mary, wouldit -were otherwise, for I have nothing to .I.e for now; the dead and dying do not wan anything in this world; take this certifleat of deposit to our aged father, and tell our parents -we are both dead-but, o! 'do. not tell them how we id!" Before the wo " icould reply or any one interfere, the repeorf that squnde7 On the hill sritronoint were two rraves, a few years ago, enclosed with.a white picket fence, and one tombstone stood at their head with the simple inscription BRoTIEas."-Golden Era. TILE "ARKANSAW TIAVELLER." Everybody has heard of, and probably heard this tune, so full of inspiring melody. Probably few, however in this section, are acquainted with the following dialogue which it is supposad originated its title. A traveller on horsemack arrives at the cabin of an Arkansas lackwoodsman, and fling his right leg over the bow of the saddle, while the backwoolsman, sitting in his door with a don't care sort of an air and a red flannel shirt on, leeps a jerking the first strain of the music f this tune out of a time. honored violin, an heir loom in the family. Our hero, the traviler, catches at a pause in the music, and hils: Traveller.-HallW stranger ! Back woodsmanl.-HallowV yourself! tusrc. Trraveller.-Coul I get to stay all nighti Backwoodsman.-You can't get to stay all night, I reckon. "'src. Traveller.-.Wh; don't you cover your house in t Backwvoodsman.--Because it Is raining. 'Usrc. T'raveller.-Wh don't you cover it when it ain't raining I BackwoodsmanrBecause it don't leak a darn drop then. .Uarc. Traveller.-Who does this right hand road go toi Back woodsman.-l've been living here fifteen years and itiasn't gone any where 'sac. Traveller.-Can cross this pond down herei Backwoodsman.1 gues. go, all tie ducks ad geese go oni if :src. Traveller.-Hayou any spirits about you! . Backwvoodsinlan.Do you think my house is haunted you foo~ There's none nearer than the grave yarc ar1sc. Traveller.-HO~long do you say you have been livin' oere I BackwoodsmanlDo you see them 'are i hills over yonderi Traveller.-Yes.r BackwoodsdiafWell' they were here a when'I come. rarc. ' Traveller.- satranger, wouldn't you like to know the boice of that tune?! -. BackwoodsumanYs, I would- like to learn it. . t Traeller.-Let! stay all night and I'll ~ play it for you. . - - .- -- -Bakwoodsmaiet down you fool, and i come out of the rtand you may stay a whole week. .s Traveller.-4 iyou *wduld have my horse put-up and high. BackwooksmianiOy, take thIs ma'u's c horse anid putl in. t able---put a bundle of fodder upon thglel high he oan't reach ita aIc. Traveller.-Str r have you any thing good to eat about , .d Backwoodsmnai(es, I1 guess so. . Old h lady, look up he a the top of -the cup- y board in. that oldt and get down .thati . flor. Ifnhat ain't1 I don't know what-ii 0 3USIC AND SUPPER-MUSIC. Traveller.-I want to lay down. Backwoodsman.-Well kick that dog of that bear skin, I don't reckon you'll not ge wet much. MUsrc. Traveller.-Would you like to hear the balance of that tune. Backswoodsman.-E'en-most as live at not; it's tolerable good for these parts. PROLONGED MUSIC. Traveller.-Well, stranger how you like it I Backwoodsman.-Give us your paw, Old woman get out o'that bed and let this stranger have it. Any man that can make that music can sleep in the best bed in my house, and have clean sheets in the bargain. Boy, go and empty. a barrel of corn in this man's horse trough, and stop the door with a .stack of fodder. Now stranger, good night. Don't forget that tune before morn ing WE PLEAD FOR HAINONY. We cannot repress the conviction, that the founding of the Know-Nothing order is a shrewed Yankee trick; cunningly devised to produce discord and confusion at the South. It was not necessary to the success of their intended schemes of fraud and insult, that the Abolitionist of the North should have a co-operative party in the South. By no means. All power is in their hands; the next Congress will be emphatically an anti. slavery Congress, and the Government will be under their control. And so far as the election of the next President is concerned, l! popular opinion in the Northern -States undergoes no change, they will have a suf ficient majority in the electoral college to elect their candidate. They must have had some sinister design, in starting this new order. We believe it. The last Presidential election, crushed and wrecked, hopelessly and forever, the, Whig party; So complete was its overthrow in the South, that its boldest and most far-seeing leaders, abandoned all hope of rallying its members and disbanded. There remained then, but one dominant party in the South; and hence upon all questions she was a unite. And it was precisely this fact, that gave rise to the Know-Nothing party, in our judgment. The entire programme of the North in the next Congress, has refer ence to slavery. Her members will enter it, not to legislate upon .national interests, but to war upon sectional interests and rights. sectional and r .veyiseui, SoutIlern'men would fight shoulder to shoulder in the Uni on, and if defeated! that together they would leave the Union. They dreaded to pit sec tion against section, to meet the united for ces of the South. Hence,.while-attempting unto teach Southern men the art of violating the Constitution,-a branch of political science, in which the North is very learned, and of which she intends soon to give un deniable evidence; the North - intendea to divert ther attention from her proposed attack upon slavery, to disturb their harmo. ny and render them less able to resist her measures, either in Congress or out. A division in the ranks of the South, upon questions of national policy, the North knew could not be produced; and in attempting to accomplish her purposes, by introducing the Know-Nothing order, she acted upon a keen perception of the frailties and unwor thy prejudices- of homan nature. The poi son is taking eff'ect, and we fear ere long that we shall see Southern men arrayed in strife, as Know-Nothings and Anti-Know Nothings. ,We ask Southern mnen,if they are willing to imperil their all, by a reckless division in this hour of danger-will they split upon this new order, and thus become pliant tools in the hands of Northern men. Fcrbid it, Heaven! The slavery question has wreck ed all national parties-no party can suc ceed North which disregards the anti-slavery mania-it is an idea, that runs through eve rything in that region ; and so far, the indi eations are that it lies at the foundation of the Know-Nothing order. A national Know. Nothing party then is impossible; such a party would split, just as all others have done ; the Northern wing of it would be anti-slavery; the Southern wing pro-slavery ; Why should oar people fall out and divide, ibout a party which can afford them no ad litional strength,-nay, that will wveaken hem. The Northern Know-Nothings dare tot co-operate with those of the South; for hey would meet the fate of Douglass,Shields Sorman, Richardson, Dickinson and Petitt; hose pure Democrats of the North, who oiught gallantly' for the South, and.then fell, ~rushed by. Abolition forces. We entreat our >eople, not to auff'er this Know-Nothing ilight to come over their counsels, to distract mnd paralyze thenm. As Southern men we ave but one issue to meet. ft is not an Bsue, with regard to Foreigners or Cat ho-. ics; but it is an issue involving the very zistence 9f slavery. 'The Slavery Question I a truly the only one at issue. In meeting I forthern men npoo -this issue, Southern< uen will have sternly to resist their assassin tabs at their rights, their property, their 4 ocial system, and their civilization. 'These re momentousi interests, and it is a momen. nus question, how shall the South meet thei forthern hordes of Alarie ! His bugle I 'last is fast collecting his . robber bands; bey are united in their purpose to rob, plun. or and ruin us ;-are we united in our pur 0s0 to resist them t Let Southern men I onder well the necessity for harmony ; for I appy ill the South be, if in the coming truggle her sons are found 'firm and udi- I ided.--Anderson Gazette & Advocate. r TnE Poet office known as Treadaway orc sodi' in Barnwell-District, which was di.- r cintinuod some-time since, has been re-es- il iblished and changed to that of Grisenland, e ad Mr. Wyat Tyler appinted Postmnaster. ( JBU DE Mor.-" See here, Gripps,-f un- -o erstand you have a superior way of curing . mais. I shonla like to learn it." "Wl, i, ea-I know very, well hoy t'o eure them; I atthe trouble with me, just now, is to find I( ait a way to pn-cnre theta.r For the Advertiser. OUR DEPARTED FIbD. A PEW THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH O A. N.., OF THIS VILLAGE, BY AN INTIMATE AND CONFIDING FRIEND. Softly blow, sweet-scented zephyrs, Round the grave where HENaR lies; Gently waft, ye waving breezes, Daylight's glory from the skies. Drink, sweet flowers, drink the dew-drops Twilight sprinkles round his rest; Night winds whispering o'er my friend, Sigh a requiem o'er his breast. Dark and lonely is his dwelling, Like a star among the clouds; Yet his spirit never waning, Wings its way to bright abodes. There, sweet friend, there I'll join yoa When my life of toil is o'er; There we'll dwell in happiness, Chanting praises evermore. When sorrows cross my peaceful heart, - And seem to be.my portion here, Hope bids me look to heaven for rest, Eternal, joyful rest is there. For sorrow cannot chase away Those thoughts so dear to me; I think of thee by night, by day, I think of thee, Il think of thee. But in heaven his voice is ridgi-ng. Where eternal amaranths blow; Cold the grave wherein he slumbers, Cold and calm the blue sky o'er: We have lent, what God has borrowed ; Heaven hath now one angel more. L.:: From the Charleston News. THE AIKEN AND BORN SURVEY OF THE SA VANNAH VALLEY RAILROAD.. The survey of this 'route, we perceive, has been commenced; and a considerable. por tion of it has been completed. We are in. formed, that so far as the survey has been completed, the most sanguine expectations of its friends have been more than realized. From Aiken to Edgefield. there will not be a single culvert required-and the excava tions and embankments will be but slight. Beyond Edgefield village, in the direction of Dorn's,-so far as the survey has advan ced, a distance of ten miles,-the grade will be easy, and no serious obstacles are: found to exist. It is now understood that in the uIma W s U b)U V u@ wVeAson e sue nn indefatigable Engineer, Major Arms, will be able to submit a full report to the President and Directors of the Savannah Valley Rail road, on the.cost, practicability, &c., &c., of this road, from Dorn's to Aiken. We see from the Edgefield Advertiser that there is considerable enthusiasm felt by the citizens of Edgefield in behalf of this survey; and we doubt not but that they are prepared.to come forward, with a hearty will, in furnish. ing substantial -aid toward the construction of this connection with the Savannah Valley Road. The route surveyed will pass within a short distance of the village of Edgefield, and will diverge but little from a direct line from Aiken to Dorn's. The distance will be about forty miles from Aiken to Dorn's. It is supposed that the cost of the whole road will be about $600,000. Two hun dred thousand dollars of this sum will be raised in Edgefield. Has Charleston any interest in this Road ? We think she has. In the first place, by the building of this connection with the Savan Valley Road, Charleston will have a direct I connection with the Rabun Gap Road, ati Anderson. We say direct, because it will I only be a divergence of about ten miles from an air line between Aiken to Ander- I son. It is now generally oonceded that an I air line route from Aiken to Anderson is im practicable-1st, because it wvill then be too ! near to the Columbia and Greenville Road I for good neighborship, and hence can have il no support along the line already occupied byj ? another road; 2d because the air line route [ would be much more costly than a slight s divergence, as proposed by the route nowv ii under consideration. In addition to these ti considerations against an .air line from Aiken e to Anderson, and in favor of a slightly di- a verging line to the West, there are other con- l siderations not less ~ potent. Charleston I wants i direct communication with the Rta- C bun Gab Road. But she wants more. She Sl wants as cheap as possible, as profitable a a road as possible, and one that will pick up F by the way as much neto custom as possible. Will the Aiken and Dorn and Savannah Road answver all these purposes for Charles onf We think it will. This connection vith the Rabun Gap can be had at a cost a ,o all ie dif'erent interest concentrated in Charleston of about $400,000. Could thee lifferent interests expect s' great a boon at Sless cost ? Would thie great city of Char- ~ eaton itself, uinaided by other interests clus ered around her, feel unwilling to tender so. mall an aid, in the accomplishmeint of so lesirable and important an endi The manall nterior city of Augusta wvas willing to have iiven even more than this sum tothe Savannah ~ valley Road if this company had been will ng to have consulted her peculiar interests n the location of jhe Savannath Valley Road. t cannot surely be that Charleston, in herW nterprise, would suffer herself to be out- c tripped by her country -neighbor,'Augusta. et7 undertake to say that Charleston can ~et no such connectionas is now proposed ! o be given to her, with the Rabun Gap road, at as-little cost as that now asked of er. As to the profitable chbaracter of this cad, we mean the Savannah Valley Road,tl rith its branches to Charlesto'n, by the way f f Aiken, and to Hamburg and Augusta, di eetly down the valley of the Savannah hiver, ' does seem to us that no proof can be re uired to make it manifest. -The 'Rabtin lap completed,:there is no question but bat this road wtill be the Breza rtigfea ftravdhand transpor-Iton, daot only frthe induce destined ror Chirjeston, but for-that .-. ItendedsforHamlbirg, Atgqat and.Savan- a? ah.: It must be-a agoaying.'ra, If zF ~harleston-wants to~open- to-herselt a-Dew aj road.. The Savannah.-Valley cotrngrjI always belonged to Augustaj by -ramd the Savannah river navigation, indethel age of Augusta to thin portion of(Ca,.bi. This valley arill be penefratedr6 i4 burg, almost to the miountainib tb' - nab Valley Road. The. conc e_ Aiken and Dorn Brancd'will .trng the richest portion of.this valey4nto communication with Charleston. We uk nothing in saying, that of all the tion, of South Carolina. this is a most wealthy and highly c'ultiat all; and the new-field thus ed; b?. leston will, be worth all she, iscale u subscribe. We think tha. we-h11*g that Charleston, in every pointf*isw s deeply interested in the Savanna SV Road, as it is proposed to be ebi the South Carolina Road at'Aiken. only remaining question.to be.plo is one which Charleston alone; can: : Will Charleston do her duty in tlii and thus secure herself this-rich boon moderate cost 1 We- hope, for-thae sbd the enlarged interests of-the Savauaflrs I Railroad, that. there is no -ddubt.in thlN ter. But for the sake of our c1 eiuled Charleston, we would even ^ ' .eour stronger. -Because if sheshouldfdil-bt the sagacity to-pereeive heriinterests h_ matter-; or,'if seeing it, she should' . enterprise to 'improve the obiati confess that we should !ave' dosbk f t future career in attaniingihepeng ,iij of the Queen City-of the .Sodth. ' ON Tuesday aternoon a a olvngXi nel-shaped cloud passed-swiftly -alogaes the ground, about sixteen: imiles. osth 'f here, carrying up large sticks ,f =wood, stones, &c. It. described a semiiprcle toy wards the southeast, and twistigeff' trees. and . whisking then. gts fsighe stantly. .. . .. The whirlwind thea.,broke in.te. disappeared, but almost iminedlately'forusd again; and -passed directliy haakati a west, with redoubled violence. 'It struck a heavy.. frame house one I from the Illinois and Wisonin raiJr sej tearing the roof instantly ,off, apdqi, immediately ;afterwards taking be house instantly up the' sp6ut; with a l4 contents. - Nine persons in thehoue wele' and hurled' Jown iniit'erent pla mutilated~beiido any prospect of ree The whirlwind then passed over a postknad rail fence, leaving not the slightest vestigs of it. . . It next took up a barn' and threw it-upoa the horses and cattle it contained, essh them at once. The timber of the house and barn^were hurled down to the ground with such v o: lence as to bury them almost out of-sigbt. The house belonging to Mr. Page; whose wife; son., and two-grandelidren were-killed Accounts'are given of persons being ear ried up one hundred- feet in the air, andithian burled down with-great violence. - The same afternoon. a severe hailst er )ccurred in this city, after which, the sky ,resented a singular appearance to the.north. vard, and the weather cbanged from the nost oppressive. heart to the most ehillhj itmosphere. THrE census of 1850-show that the -oid. st person living in the United States.*ik [40. 'This person was an Indian wominT esiding in North Carolina. In 'thes. sas 3tate was an Indian aged 125, -anegro voman 111, two black females 110 each, me mulatto male 120, and several, white nales and females aged from 106 to 114 n the parish of Lafayette, Louisisia, w female black; aged 120. In severalofA htates there'were found persons,. whie~ s'yd lack, aged from 110.to 115. There wqs a the United. States in 1850, 2,555pershu yer 100 years. This shows Ihatabout one erson in 9,000 will be likely to lihe to thab ge. There are now about 20,000 yei . a the United States who were living wIrgs ae Declaration of Independence was sa-a d, in 1776. They must necessailyb bout 80Lyears old now, in order toshave ved at that time. The French ena of 851 shows only. 102 persons over 100' ais Id; though their total pojalatiojawaftfar 1,000,000. Old ago is, therefore, idahreA nong us much more frequently theb,'ii rance. ADVICE OF "OLDn luAirTA"rs?. mnize your own traders and meliaie . 'his is doing as you would be -dee yt d is building up the town you ive In 2.Pyyour debts, so that othersawene pa 3. Quarrel with no mian; and the 'o an will quarrel with you. 4. Do'not steal your preachinta a as once struck blind, you know for' g fire from- heaven. 5. Send your chbldre- constandly$ hool; look in now- and then yonmeelf4 e what they are doing there-a 6. Keep all neat. and' cleani abouty rellings; for cleanliness iou kilow'~'~ Ludmasid of health, and a dis'tant comisia~t ealth. . - 7. Avoid scandal; for this is apeat to any Immunity. . .. 8. Be liberal ia rsject tooevery-laudable blic interprise; for the~ good book a, lie liberal soul sliall be mnade fate 9. Emipty-fon liquor bd~tIer~ ealready forked1oet quite. -~d 10. Visit the sick, thre widow, a~~ therlessa for this is one pad oUtheri on which i " pure aud undo s."' 'k 11. Keep gotar elidren In aM e evening air is had forghiI 12% Feed yourindsar that you know .mustagoiis, b lied caap while enmh itee&k A aa aa-ta, N m tsrhnne