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EF AE 0~celuotatk 30urmal, DerJotta to tlje Souty anIa Soutljrn fliglyts, oibits, Catest Jtems, Citerature, m*oraitI, Eemernce, rikuffure &c We -will cling to the Pillars of the Temple of ouWrlberties, and I it must fall, ve will Perish amidst the Ruls." SIlIKINS, DVIERISOE & CO., Proprietors. DIJU..EFIELD, S. Ck., AECEMBER 23, 1857. From the Mississippian. TEE BUGLE HORN. The Bugle Horn-the Bugle Horn Pealing merrily, loud and clear, So freshly sounding through the lawn, Swelling its silver notes of cheer, From hill to dale, the echoes fly -4 To where the sun rise gilds the morn To valley low, to vaulted sky. Ring thrilling strains from Bugle Horn; As chanticleer, with notes of gleo, Bids darkness down in shrilly peals, Fast hies, the sports man glad and free, Through boagy fens and heather fields. The Bugle Horn, in numbers deep, Then echoes through the dewy lawn, As yelping Fox-dogs onward leap, - Inspired by the Bugle Horn. When twilight shades of purple huo Spread round pale Lana, newly born, -And but one star peeps through the blue, The suppliant hails the Bugle IHorn; Wen -im bright islands in a sea, gt a d sars the syes adorn, The nugni I tI~er joyously -. ---O e ofBugle Horn. 7t mae .A d -d, A on, he filesro le~fi s ] ;The foaming steed ploughs. t 3 fast3 am kied; A Strong-O fu, And o' e oat the bridge Is drawn, As tesaloud are rung, - m: the ppoud chieftain's Bugle Horn. - The burthened,coih of many a. Vacki K -it proudly heralds to the stand, .1Binging the wearf traveler back, And missives grea6fr.foreign land; Bearing to sduie,-the ladath sea, Ma];i .-ad he.arts,. still more forlorn, An others, joys to feel, them bless, Bugle'Iorn. The omujVe hrn'I.lovo te* rain, Though wlifing, comes to'me4be sound,' - 6 ~makes idublrife in Qs ?Vfu th ait r round 06 de, . The liour I was a onny Spring up at sound of.Bugle Horn. The festive throng, the Jubilce Are gladdened by its stirring voice, It sets the Hebrew captive free, And bids his mournful soul'rejoice. A Bugle Horn loud, long and clear The dead shall wake when time is gone, Oh, may we then, with joy appear, When sounds that last dread Bugle Horn. .IINDA. BE GENTLE TO THY WIFE. Be gentle-for you little know How many trials rise; Although to thee they may be small, To her of giant size. Be gentle-though perchance that lip May sppak a murmuring tone. The ficart may speak with kindness yet, And joy to be thy own' Be gentle-weary hours of pain 'Tis woman1 lot to bear; Then yield to her what e'er thou canst, And all her sorrows share. Be gentle-for the noblest hearts And times must have some grief; A t even in a pettish word, May seek to find relief. Be gentle-none arc pierfect here Thou'rt dearer far than life; *Then husband, bear, and still forbear ; Be gentle to thy wife ! From Godey's Lady's Book. TIHE D)AY AFTER CHIRISTMAS, BY CLARA AUGUST. T is the day after Christmas. 'The snow and raiu which fell yesterday cover the gaunt skele ton trees with a frosting of silver, and the ice *laden branches moan and shriek mt the wid strong wind. The icicles hang from thehiaggy cjaves of our old homestead, and the loose snow whirls against the windows with a (lull sort of groan. The lend of coldi and gloom is abroad upon the earth-, andl the ruddy lire-glow - in the pojished grate fails to dissipate hisshadows. I have tried to work, but the cold benumibs my fingers, and satin~ stitch has become con fo)unded with eyelet. I have tried reading, but ithe wild rushing of the wmnds im the pine woods -andi in the greatlicafless elus in the garden dis turbs mem, and mny thoughts nre away from the -book to) im m orfLifIW o.f the misty past-to days when, though cold and dre'ary without, within all wvas bright and cheerful, warmed by the smiles of love and lighted by the words of ..affection. Years ago I was a inerry school-girl, unmind ful of earth's sorrow, and laughing at what worldlings call care. Like tuost other young girls, I had an intinate friend of my own sex, not a couniJante, for mny thoughts and emotions have never been entrusted to the keeping of any one. I~vrhees I had a friend; one whom 1 loved--one who loved me in return. Annie GJrahtaml was exactly may opposite both inl person and disposition. While I was by na -ture courlageo~us, fearing nothing, and depending upon mnyself~ in :all emergent cases, she was tim id and fearful; doing nothmng without ~advice, and even then trembling for the issue. I was a brunette, with a wild, restless eye, and mouth which plainly betrayed my unmfemi nine firmness. Annie w-as a p~ale, fragile blonde, .with mild, loving 'eyej, and a profusion of suxny hair, which fell in graceful tresses on her white alI oulders.- It was her very unlikeness to my self which bound my heart to hers. If gh a frightened, I took her in my armas and soothed her; if she was sad, I laughed at her forebod ings; if shyp was gay, I chided her for her thoughtleInneg;s in short, I was a perfect tyrant over her; 'andbet I loved Annie Graham with an affeElion strong and sincere. We fat became acquainted at school, where we were room-mates, and very happily on:time pased;) ams happy ~That some one depended ..upoa me; she., that she had some one to depend We had been two 'years at school, and thi summer vacation was at hand. Annie was t< go home, and I t0, stop- at a brother's, som twenty miles from the seminary. Annie's homi was in the blooming South, many leagues away and with doting fondness she clung to my necl when we parted. I kissed her sweet lips veri calmly, and put her away from me. One genth tearful look, and she was gone. Two weeks at my brother's, and I received o letter from her. A transcript of her own purt heart it was-gentle and loving like herself. There was a full account of her homeward jour ney, the blissful meeting with her parents and brother, Philip; and then came a glowing de scription of a visitor at her home, a friend ol her brother Philip. Noble, dignified, and tal. ented, she said he was, and of high birth and liberal fortune. I raad the letter through, but I did not lay it down. A strange, undefinable feeling crept in at my heart. Annie was well and happy; what more did I ask? Shall I confess it? The whole un divided love of Annie alone could satisfy my jealous nature. I was envious of her affection even to her own relatives; how could I calmly hear her speak so warmly of one who was not allied to her by ties of blood? I know that a fancy with Annie was but a stepping stone to love; and I felt that but a short time would elapse ere my image would be torn from her heart's altar, and that of the attractive stranger placed there instead. I replied to her letter, but said nothing of my unworthy feelings; and in due time her answer caie, warm-hearted as ever but breathing, un consciously to herself, the deepest admiration for the young friend of her brother. Wallace Malcolm was his name, and he had been Philip Graham's warmest friend at the university wh'ere they had both -studied. During the vacation, I received several letter. from.Annie ,all full of love for myself, and ad mhiration of young Malcolm. At lastthe time for the re-assembling of the school ami4,ed, and once'nore Annie and I were sitting in our little chamber at- G. Annie had drawn up the little -.ottoman to ry feet, and laid her bright head on my knee. Lying there, with her trusting blue eyes upturned to my face, she told me all that Wallace had said to her; how he had told her that he loved her, oh, so dearly ! and how he had begged for one word of hope. " And what did you tell him ?" I asked, very calmly, stroking the soft silky hair which lay in a golden shower over my lap. , 'What could I say,, dearest Julia? he is so noble and good, and he.:loves me so tenderly What could I say ?" And Annie hid her glow ing face-in my bosom. I pressed the dear head CIOser, forI felt that another would soon claim it-that dier arms, stronger than mine, would son atalht d...that arm love. I seldom weep; if I did, I should have wrept thei. I had bcei an orphan from my earliet remembrance, dependant on the charity of a half-sister of my father. Love I had never known. Those of my own age had ever avoided me, for they fancied i e,.ld and heartless, and older people called mue selfish. Is it any won det', then, that when one so good and beautiful as Annie Graham had bestowed upon me the boon I had so long ye:arned vainly for-is itany wonder that I felta great fury at the thougit of losing her undivided affection ? But my will was strung to do right; and holding her there in my ars, I analyzed my own ifeelings. I saw clearly'my great unworthiness of her imnocent, high-souled affection. I saw my own inward hideousness, my despicable selfishness, and, with one powerful effort, I cast out all bitter feelings from my heart. I conquerred all my sinful jealousy; and, fromi the depths of an earunest soul, I cried ; "God bless you, Annie, and make you happy as you deserve i' Malcolm wrote often to his young finance letters breathing to the loftiest sentiments, full of noble thoughts, such as could be generated only in a heart alive to the truest impulses of honor. Isensibity I grew to love those letters, and to look for their coming with pleasurable anticipation ; for Annie had no secrets from me., and every glowing line which Malcoln had penned wats openi to umy gaze. Our school days were ahnost over. 1 was to go home with Annme, to remain until after the Christmas holidays, and Wallace Malcolm was to come for us in a few days. Annie looked forward to his coming with buoyaut spirits; and, though 1 strove to enter into her feelings, I could not drive from may heart 'the strange fear of meeting him which had crep~t in there. I feared a something without a name. H~e camne at last. ie met Annie with a sort of tender joy, and as her friend he greeted me very kindly. IHe drew us both to a seat on the sofa, and talked to us in his deep, rich voice ; but I cannot recolleet a single wvord which fell from his lips. I listened as one entranced. I no longer wondered that she loved hinm. 1 wa no longer surprised at the strange power which his letters to Annie had exerted over mec. In person Mr. Malcon wvas strikingly hand some ; a classically formed head, over which waved a profession of dark glossy hair; a broad, white forehead; G recian cast of features, and remarkably brilliant teeth ; added to a tall, ele. gantly propotionedl form, a sweet voice and highly cultivated muind. Was it any wonder that Annie loved him But did he love her ! Did ho love her with that unselfish devotion which beamed from eve ry feature of her facee? I asked myiself the questioii, but dare not answer it. A pleasant journey we had to Annie's beauti ful home. It was rosy evening wh'en we arrived at the grand old mansion which bore the name of the Evergreens, from the number of tall trees which surrounded it. We were most cordially received by all. Mr. Graham was a widower, and his family consis ted of his two children, Philip and Annie, and ani unuber of colored servants. Mr. Malcolm's parents resided on an estate about ten miles fronm the Evergreens. Philip Graham was like his sister: the same clear coumpjlexion amid love-lit eye3, the sanie ex. pression of~ countenance, only a little miore self reliait; ant the saiue type of gentleness was all over hiim. He pressed my hands very kind ly, and spoke of the joyful times we should have in the-comuing holidays. I had beenm at thle evergreens a week, when 1 eeiveod a visible alteration in Malcolm's mannier towards mae. 'With the deepest' pinm I saw him leaving Annie tosit by nie; and, when the good-nights were said, his voice sank to au more thrilling cadence wvhen he said the little word to mue. I discovered that Wallace Malcolm was trans ferring his affetions from Annie to myself, and the discovery gave me no pleasure. I had ad mired him for what I deemed his high sense of honor; and this very change in his manners loered hini in my esteem. I could not love where respect was wanting. Had Mr. Malcolm rmnained true to Annie, I should have loved him; but such is thme perversity of woman's heart that, when I felt that I had won hium froma her side, I cast him away from me as unwvorthy my slightest regard. Mr. Malcolm's attentions became almost odi ous to me, and I avoided him by every mneans in my powver. Annie, truthful and unsuspect ing, noticed not her, idol's growing coldness. Philip with his keen perception, saw all.I 3 know it by the flashing eye and hightened color, ) by the half suppressed scorn which beamed from his face, when Malcolm was more attentive to me than usual. The path of duty lay clear before me. I ought to return to.my home; I knew it, I felt it; but what reason could I assign? I feared arousing Annie's suspicions; and Ihoped that by coldness and contempt I could force Malcolm back to his rightful allegiance. Christmas came cold and clear. I had prom ised Annie to remain until after that important day, but had not specified the time. Duty said to me, "Go," but inclination said, "Stay." And Why stay ? That was known only to my own heart. There was a grand celebration of Christmas eve at the Evergreens. The rooms were dense ly crowded, and the heat almost overpowered me. I stepped into a balcony for air. I had stood for some time gazing out on the spangled bosom of night, when a step at my side aroused me. It was Mr. Malcolm. "This is very beautiful, Miss Denham; do you not think so ?" he asked, bending his deep, searching eyes upon my face. "Very lovely," I replied briefly. "You leave us, soon after the holidays, I be lieve ?" " Yes." And I fould have returned to the company. Malcolm caught my hand. " Stay a moment, Miss Denham; Julia," he said, imploringly, "stay a moment. Julia, I love you, love you as I have never loved. Once I thought I loved Annie.; but oh, Julia! what was my .love to her compared with that I bear to you. She never - understood me; but in your eyes your soul is shadowed forth.- You know me better than I knowmyself. Read me, and say if I do' not speak truly. Oh, Julia, tell me that you will not cast me utterly away !" And Malcoln fell on his knees at my feet. I drew myself up to my full height. My face burned with indignation as I replied: " Wallace Mancolm, have you a soul, that you can offer me a heart peijured at the very altar of its love? Go miserable being, and pray forgive ness of her whom you have so basely wronged ; seek by a lifetimno6f penitence to atone for this great sin; but trouble me no further, lest I curse yon." I turned-and swept'proudly from hin. I-saw no more of Malcolm that night. The next morning, as Annie and I were sitting in her tasteful bourdoir, we were startled by a strange confusion about the .house. Annie was much alarmed; bngwith my custainry boldiess, I went to learn the cause; Good God; what a spectacle met my eyes! -Theri on the side table iii the long hall- lay Wallace Malcolm, his tall'form straightened to th stiff-formality of death.L Philip GrAham lay Tai tw sofa, white and still, the dark-blood oozing slowly fromn a. doep wound in his temple. Philip Graham? ed him with all thestrength of my wild, lone heart? Judge, then, of my feelings at sceing ldmn'thus. I tottered to his side. le saw ine not! Ile opened iot his eyes, but lie breathed, I saw by the labored quivering of his broad breast. For even this I was thankful. Tihe hall was half full of strange people. Mr. G rahama leaned againt the wall pale and motion less. Ireached him and graspel his arm. " For the love of Heaven, sir," I gasped, " teil me all ?" Mr..Graham could not control himself sufli ciently to speak; but, from one of the strange men who was bathing Philip's pale brow, I learned the &ad particu'ars. It seemed that Philip had overhearaI Malcolm's declaration to ine on Christmas eve, and, fired at the insult and the wrong done his sister, lie had imnediately sent a challenge to Malcolim, which was of course, accepted. At sunrise they had met on a sandy phin some forty rods froma the Evergreein;. .1alcoln fell dead, shot through the breast. while the ball from his pi.stol had entered Philip's temple. This was all; was it nit enough'? And I the cause! I weat to Annie. T told her all. Ier grief I cannot speak of. It would make a child of m c; and I try to be-very Calin and composed, Towards noon, at Annie's request, I went to Philip. Ihis wound had been dressed ; but I saw iio hope in the sorrowful-faco of the old family physician. IPhilip was conscious, and begged me to sit down by his bedside and tell him of Annie. Wordls caunnot express imy agony, my utter des pair, as I gazed on his pale features, where I knew death would soon be at work. My great love for Philip Graham camne over mec with all its overwhelming force, and my heart stopmped it~s pulsations; my brain whirled, I caught a chair for support, and all things faded from mmy view. When 1 awoke to consciousness, they told mue that I had been very ill; and, as I looked at my wasted hands, I realized the truth of what they .Annie, the nurse said, bore her grief better than we had anticipated, and had gone through the funer-al ceremonies over Wallace Malcom's remains with resigned comiposure. Philip still lingered, though with but little hope of recove ry. Oh, howv glad I was to hear even this ? I had so feared that the grave had claimed him. Annie came to iiue. What a meetinig! We lay in each other's arams for a long time without speaking, but Anniie's conmvuhsive sobs told well le inward agony. She had changed much. Her face waLs pale andl thin, and her eyes weary with vigils over the living, and tears for the dead, In a few dnays, I was able to go into Philips chamber. He welcomed ine eherlidly, and con, versed on different subjects with his accustomned spirit. Night and day I sathyhmis couch, unmind ful of physician'~s oft-repeated command that I should rest. Rest! How could 1 rest whlen his lst momnenits could he made pleasanter by my~ efots? Sometimes, when,, in the long still watches of thme night, I sat by his side counting his fluttering pulse and smoothing back the rich brown hair from his brow, lie would raise his eyes to mym fihee with such an expression of thankful ness,' that I would willingly hgare given .half my existence to sec it there againi. Annie would not consent to my~ leaving them, and inideed I ditt not wish to; and I lingered at the Evergreens until the middle of February. Philip was filiing. Even Annie's hopeful eye' saw the gradual but sura approach of thme dread4 destrover. She rctruained fromi speaking to Phil ip on the subject of hIs death ; but I had spoken to him freely of' his degarture. He frankly told inc wha~t I hand lbng suspected-that remorse, rather thanm disease, was wearing on his life-re morse at having caused the death ofone noble and good, though he had beeni tempted, amid yield ing to his wrong im pulses, had fallen. Philip spoke calmly, even cheerfully, of going through the din :,hades of death to the golden portals of .heaven. One merning, quite early, while I was sitting in an easy chair before the fire, striviig to obtain a little sleep, Philip called. ime. I arose and went to his bedside. A change had come, over him-fearful change. I shuddered as I divined the cause. Must lie ro?-the only one I had ev er loved with my whole depth of feling.? I al mst murmured at the will of the great Infinite. Philip took amy hand in his. "Julia," lie said, raising his fearfully brilliant eyes to mine, "I shall never behold another sunrise I Break, the tiding carefully to Annie, poor, dear little sister. Had it not been for my rasiness, a broher's might have strewn her patj'with flowers.- . before I go, will you not tte-my head to bosom and sing to me the' hymn beginnin would not live alway?" . - I could not refuse hi' I rested his head on my breast, and mng in a tremi voice the words he loved. When I had finished, he issed me teni and said: "Dear Julia, that I am d promise me that you will longer neglect God; that you will think'7aa ys of the glo meeting we shall have, by-n by, in heav He lay some time, and I la w b the motic his lips that he was prayidg 'Ten with ft arms he drew my head dogn beside"his C his icy lips kissed me pass' atev and he, mured: "God bless you, ia!' and sunk on the pillow. I hastily summoned the' ily and we s around Philip Graham's de'hbel. He spot each one seperately, blessbdland kissed all, then lay perfeely quiet. 'WTthought him. inn; but it' so, his petitionj as ended in hot wo months after Philis death; I retu home. 4 left Annie-ealm, if not cheerfl. Graham bore his bereavement with ahris meekness. The rod wi h.*hich his 'ieas father had clastised him -shrank 'not 'fi he rebelled not against the- den laid upon by his Savior. Of my own sorrow I-wiliay nothing. I: never married. Earthlyl is not for me do not ask it-I am only ',iting for a heave Annie is married to a y man ; and ] ten visit her pleasant hom ud play with little -brown headed boy, hilip. Every returning Christnik'brings with fei distinctness the melancho ,events of the day after Christmas 'of$ch I -have wri Long as I may live, I shall'iever cease to member with anguish thi d'y which-made.'i life-mourner. _COMMUNITU IONS. For the 4d ser. NOTES BY - "Me other cares, and oti liner engage, Cares that b6ecome my:bir nil suit my age: In various knowledge-to nei t my -youth, ,And conquer prejeudic4 vo c to truth; ]y foreign arts douestic ts to mund, Enlarge my notions,.aidual iews extend; The tsefuel Science of tie i'to 1-oc, W Ahich book ca04 neeer te -iorpedont-9 shoe Nn* Yoy tember, 28th, 185 The above, Mr. -Eatoi1; answer the que of the curious, aibt who* T - genial home i sunty - r of tire North,'T this - observations, by the w!, coluns, use tic:n. T rally hung over ii.. sciene. anol cherisht -:s !1- -i tion of go. 'r "ti'y. in t - - should nuw I.. lirring in o&M, Labor in the iatih if d", Glenmed up like a tlitng AI -'t" - and no contest of will and inclination were list to. So, many were the fond adicus, as we ling among old and faithful friends. Hamburg and ustsa were the first points of tarrying. Of the fo I will say nothing and but little of the latte: funnd it as usual, rife with business, and business It is more like this pie, in its business habits, any city I have' any knowledge, of. I paid a: visit to iy Almn Mater (the Ueorgia Medical Col where I Met muay familiar f'aces, in both pupils Profssors. Matters in the'healing line, seem t improvemncts in the interior of the building. For praise is duo the trustees; though it seems strani necessity had not occured to them long before it With its present talented faculty, comfortable capiou. building, excellent museum, and other mneutiunablo facilities for thorough instruction influeneo inust widen still. The class is -not so as it was last winter, though I learned that it is u greater than had been anticipated owing to the " ties."' Now hardl times arc to be drcuaded, they pinch all; but the effect in keeping numbet.r of such a profesdion, I am inclined to think is rable ; there are more now, thant do credit to good to suffering humanity. Froth Augusta. I cihe myself and baggage to Wilnington N. C. goin the South Carolina and Wihnington and Manch roads. At the depot were several of the Legisil enroute for Columbia. They were pleasanut comn ions, andl cheered mue much, for "1 caen't but say it-is an awkward sight To see onie's native land receding through The growing Meadows; it unmans cane quite Expecmally whens life is rather new." It was evening when we loft, andt at a future yu shall hear where morning found - ROME NOTES BY THE WAY. " I travelled all the irksome night, ily wnys to me unknown; I travelled like a bird of flight, 'Onwcard aned all <done." NEw YonK1)C cembjer It was a flighty ride indeed, and many things< bined to nmale it as pleasant as circumstances iv admit. The most prominent of these. were agrec "compnions in travel." Gray-eyetd dawn foun< flying with locomotive speed, from our native .9 One lingering gaze, and heart-felt sigh for thus hia, were involuntariyetadw wre e into the turpentine State. Here, instead of ginho atd cotton fields and bales, were seen biaxed p turpentine distilleries, and barrels of the raw mats Aside from these, there wis ntothing unusual, good fare at'houses of refreshment, and comfori riding, than which, we get anythting else, on rods. Four o'clock found us in sight of Wilmzini a city of some conmmercial interest, with a thri anti energetic population, as every thing one< see, by passing hurriedly through, very plainly h d. (Great has been the improvemuent here ii years. But a shrill whistle stops all platformi g and commences a pell-mel1 rush"for the cars, an we go, on the Wihaington and Weldeen road. is a pleasant road of a hundred and sixty miles, would imagine froma the tints it took to pass ov Soon night and Morpheus fell upon us, and all Iu without resistance, i'nte " tired nature's sweel storer, balny sleep. At Weldon, we were aroused, to change cars, enjoy a healthy laugh at the yells of an old n vending coffee, which he vociferounsly declared the best either North or South. This noise attrn some custom. Bunt a brief lntervals and we again in motion Northward via. Petersburgh Richmond. A cold omnibus ride and burning Il is about all remembered of the former. Day. revealed the suburbs of the latter which was picturesque, on the river with its numerous in facturing houses and expiokinig macehine shops. rail road expedition allowed no timec for observi A glance from omnibus and car windows was al could do. It certainly is a decently managed This, with Its hill and dale locality, contribute gi to its health; peace and prosperity were appa May these ever rest upon the eapital of the "ol minion." 'Thi bird'" eye glimpse brought to her patt heroes. and noble and immortal s: and 'freedom, and the thrilling incident-, so intimately ulia, interwoven with the nation's hitory. But of these your I need say nothing, for "tlieyaro known of all men." ' I -Again a screamn from the iron horse tells us that we are in motion. Aquia Creek is the next point of dear change. This morning we were well fed, in "old Virginny" style. Our side glances here exhibited a erly, and entirely eut down, and under cultivation. Wheat ring, Corn and Tobacco, were to be seen in great abun your dance. About the time the scenery and things to be .iOus seen by the way, were growing interesting there was en." quite asensation produced aboar'd the ears at one of the of way stations. It was as sudden, and unexpected, as eble such things usually happen. Of its nature and effects iwn; upon.the passengers, you may hereafter hear from mur- R1OME0. ack . For the Advertiser. MR. EDIT0on:-On the 7th inst., I, for the first time, an set foot upon the soil of the country which has been n-ay- perpetuated by the productions of Thomson and Long. Ven. steet, " Major Jones' Courtship " and " Georgia ned Scenes." I must confess that I experienced sensations Mi. amopting to superstitions awe, and for the life of me I tian could'nt help thinking (of the blue.eyed Mary Stallins, enly who afterwards Iecnine the happy wife of the distin guished Pineville Major. Once I imagiiied I saw the officious Raey Sniffle, who, it is said, weighed ninety itve pounds in hucble-berry time, in the person of a di I minutive, duck-legged, dapper little fellow, who was nly. in fact the duplicate of -Raney with the exception of of- R's invincible disposition to accommodate all to the her last extremity; a disposition that was totally wanting in this fellow, for upon kindly enquiring of hin the rful directions to the iotel, he replied, " I'm no porter, leXt air." I retorted that I did'nt suppose lie was, but ten. judging by appearances and the odor he exhaled, he re re might be banuly; upon which he bent a look of in le a effable contempt upon me and made his way along ___lenatth-eise. I took lodgings in Hamburg at the Carolina Hotel, kept by the gentlemanly and accommodating proprie tor, J. Lyoxs, who is well worthy the most liberal patronage, and I would recommend all who wish good comfortable lodging and good things to eat, to always give the " Carolina" a eall, Augusta on the olier side the river notwithstanding. In company with my friends, T. A. P-r nnd John B. 1f-y, I paid a visit to the faimous Ilill, known all over the State as Shultz's Hill. I saw the entrenchment lie threw up to storm, as I've been told, the City of Augusta. Indeed the position is favora tion V'e enough with a few well directed caunrn t1 posted on almost every tree. med But the proprietor finally went the way of all the cred earth, and lacking his assiduous eare, time soon trnris An- formed beauty into comparative ugliness ; and thcre -muer remain but few traces of its former splendor and I magnificence. I would here state for the infortantiono nen. o( those who may not be aware of the f(ct, that than Shultz was the founder of Ilamburg, and named I hort after his native town llamburg. Germany. eg) The Medical College of the St:tte of ticorgia, ho and cated in Augusta, commenced its nunal course of a be Lectures a few weeks ago under the direction of the this, eflicient Corps of Teachers, viz: Professors GAavIs, a its Dean, and Prof. Materia Medica; Fonn, Practice; did. Ev, Obstetrics; MSA1s, Chemistry; ])c:~s, Surge. nd ry; C.mui.Al:L, Anatomy; M:UM.x, Physiology; nd un- other assistant teachers; a faculty not surpassed in , its Medical erudition by uiiy Northern instituti'on. In. fall deed I cannot refrain from expressing in this phice. eich my utter astonisliment and wonder at tgen who clain uard to ibe Southern in princilie, patronizing the icedical ine schools at ti e North, nnd thereb~y lending their iil. out indirectly though it may lie, to the psropagation ouf lasi- the ravings of abolitionismn, a thuing with which amll t, or Northern School~s are more or 1h.-s tiinctumred. I say I ked atm astonishied at this, while they tnight enjoy the in on structions of such schools as the 3Medical College of ter the State of Gecorgim, and the Medical College of the tors State of' South Carolina; aind at the samec time have a c- lear conscience-a thing~ that I cannot conmecive to lbe in time posesin of' those who aire so blinid to South ern prosperity as to forsake their own schools and gi North. MorON AS-rOxY, 31. D., was the founder 01 -the medical College in Augusta. Hie fell a victim to .im the fatal epidemnic of 183'J. There is a tablet in one of the Lecture roomis inscribed to his memory. The mail will soon close, and p~romisinig to write a mere interesting letter next time, I bid you good bye. S. S. HAMBURG. P. S.-I have just read an epistle from a dear fricend which closes with, " whatever may occur, my fervenit prayer is for your happiness. Yours atl'eetionately.'' Oh, what consoling language in at (liy of bitter trial. 3. S. S. H. uktl EXTRACT FROM THlE PRESIDE.NT'S MIESSAlGE * ''. .LET EI'ERY MlAN READ IT.' tate. dlow-cIiien of the Senate andc IHouse of' Rep rged In obedience to thme command of the constitu *o9 tion, it hasu now become my duty "to give to ines, Congress information of the state of the Union, ial. and recommend to their consideration such meas save res " as 1 judge Eb be "'necessary and expe able dient." . 'ime But first, and above all, our thmanks are due to ton, Almighty God for the numerous benefits which ving He has bestowed upon this people; and our uni ould ted prayers ought to asccnd to Hinm that He o-would conttinue to bless our great repubthe i *-time to come as He has blessed it in thne past. two Since the adjournment of .the last Congress our 11s, constituenits have enjoyed an unusual degree of d off health. The earth has yielded her fruits about This dantly, and has bountifully rewarded the toil ot' one the husbandmant. Our great staples have coim it.t. manded high prices, and, up till within a brief lied, period, our muanufacturimg, mineral, and mechan recsal occupations have largely partaken of the r-general prosperity. We have possessed all the aln ts of material wealth in rich abundance, and.mandyts notwithstanding all these advantages, gro, our country, in its monetary interests, is at the oobe present momient in a deplorable condition. In ted thesmidst of unsurpasse plenty in all the pro were ductions of agriculture and in all the elements and of national wealth, we find our manufactures sus imps pended, our pablic works retarded, our private light enterprises of different kinds abandoned. and te thousands of useful laborers thrown out of em Iu- ployment and reduced to want. The revenue of Te- the government, which is chiefly derived from Ton duties on imports from abroad, has been greatly to.reduced, whilst the appropriations made b Con Sone gross at its lest session for the current.fa year city. are very lar ge in amount. aty Udr these circumstances a loan may be re ret unrdbor t~h close of your present session - I do- but this, althong deeply to be regretted,wol mind Iprove to be only a slight misfortune when comn .-af p are withe suffering and distress prevailing among the people. With this the government cannot fail deeply to sympathize, though it may be without the power to extend relief. It is our duty to inquire what has produced such unfortunate results, and whether their re eurrence can be prevented ? In all former re vulsionsthe blame might have been fairly attri buted to a variety of co-operating causes; but not so upon the present occasion. It is appa rent thit our existing misfortunes have proceed ed solg)y from our extravagant and vicious sys tem or paper currency aud bank credits, excit ing the people to wild speculations and gam bling in stocks. These revulsions must continue to recur at successive intervals so long -as the amount of the paper currency and -bank loans and discounts of the country shall be left to the discretion of fourteen hundred irresponsible banking institutions, which from the very law of their nature will consult the interest of their stockholders rather than the public welfare. The framers of the constitution, when they gave to Congress the power " to coin money and to regulate the. value thereof," and prohibited the States from coining money, emitting bills of credit, or making anythiiig but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of debts, supposed they had protected the people against the evils of an excessive and irredeemable paper curren ey. They are not responsible for the existing anomaly that a government endowed with the sorereign attribute of coining money and regu lating the value thereof should have no power to prevent others from -driving this coin out of the country and filling up the channels of cir culation with paper which does not repre sent gold and silver. It is one of the highest and most responsible duties of government to insure to the people a sound circulating medium, the amount of which ought to be adapted with the utmost possible wisdom and skill to the wants of internal trale and foreign exchanges. If this be' either great ly above or wreatly below the proper standard, the marketaYle value of every man's property is increased or diminished in the same proportion, 1 and injustice to individuals as well as inealcula ble evils to the community are the consequence. Unfortunately. under the construction of the federal constitu'tion, which has noi prevail-d too long to be changed, this important and delicate duty has been dissevered from the coining power and virtnally transferred to inre than fourteen hundred State banks, acting independently of each other, and regulating teiir paper ismues almost exclusively by a regardl to the present interest of their stockholdcer.. Exercisig the --eign power of providing a papeor eir-enc.y. 1 - if coin, for the counitry. th. Iir.'t duty 1 se banks owe to thi- - . a meoin-u And eventual security it is doubtleisj wise and in all cases ought to be required, that banks shall hold an amount of Linted States or State securities eqnal to their notes in circula tion and pledged for their red1emption. This. however, furnishes no adequate security aganst ver-issues. oi the contrary, it may 1)e perver ted to inflate the currency. Intdeed it is possible 1w this means to convert all the debtus of the United States and Sitp goverinme:ts int bank notes. without reference to tlie specie required to redeem thiem However vluable these secunri ties may be in themselves, they cannot le con verted into gold and silver at the intmetn-t uf essure,as o experience t(03-cs, in sailicient time to prevent bank suspensions and the dei:r ciation of bank notes. In England, which is to a-considerable exteit paper money country, though vastly biehind our own in this respect, it was deenmed ndvisable, ;iterior to the act of Parliament in 18 4, which wisely separated the issue of note.i fron the banking department. for the iMnk of England Ilways to keel on hand gold :nd silver equal to me-tiirdl of its combined circulation :nd depos ~tes. If this proportion was no more than sulti ietf'to secure the conv-ertibility of its notes, ith the whole of Great Britain, and to sonme stent the Continent of Enlp,- ats a hield for its circulation, rendering it alnost implossible hat a sudden and immediate run to a dangerous mount should be made upon it, the samec pro portion ufould certaintly b~e inmsul licient tuder our banking system. Each of our fouirteen hundred atks has' but a limited circummferenmce for its irculation, and in the course of a very few days the depositors anid note holders might demand -om such a bank a sulicient amount in spbecie o compel to suspend, even alhough it hmad coin n its vaults equal to one-third of its inmmediate iabilities. And yet I am not aivare, with the xception of the banks of Louisiana, that any State batnk throughout the Union has been re uired by its charter to keep this or any other proportion of gold atid silve r comnparedl with the mount of its combined circulation and depos es. What: has been the consequence ? In a recent report made by the Treasury Departmenit n the coindition of the batnks throughout thme different States, according to returns dated ntear est to Jantuary, 1857, the aggregate amiount of ctual specie in their vaults is $58,3h,838 of their circulation $214,778,822, anid of their de posites, $230,351,352, Thus it appears that these banks in the aggre gate have considerably less than onme dollar in seven of gold and silver, compared with their circulation and deposites. It was palpalhe, therefore, that the very first pres.nre must drive thenm to suspension, and deprive the people of a convertible currency with all its disastrous con sequences: It is truly wonderful that they should have so long continued to preserve their :redit, when a demannnd for the pueamt of one seventh of their immediate liabilities would have driven them into insolvency. And 'this is the ondition of the banks, notwithstanding that four hundred millions of gold from California have flowed in upon us within the last eight years, and the tide still continues to flow. In deed such has been the extravagance of bank1 redits that the banks now hold a considerable) less amount of specie, either in proportion to their capital or to their circulatiomi and deposites ombined, than they did before the discovery of gold in California. Whilst in the year 1848 their specie, in proportion to their capital, was more than equal to one dollar for four and a half, in 1857 it does not amount to one dollar and thirty-three cents of their capital. In the year 1848 the specie wa~s equal within a very small fraction to one dollar in five of their cir culation and deposites; in 1857 it is not equal to one dollar in seven and a half of their circu lation and deposites. From this statement it is ensy'to account for our financial history for the last forty years. It has been a history of extravagant expansions in the business of the country', followed by ruinous contractions. At successive intervals the best and most enterprising men have been tempted to their ruin by excessive bank loans of mere paper credit, exciting them to extravagant inm portations of foreign goods, wild speculations, and ruinous and demoralizing stock gambling. When the crisis arrves, as arrive it must, the banks can extend no relief to the people. In a vain struggle to redeem their liabilities in specie they are compelled to contract their loans and their issues; and at last, in the hour of distress, when their assistance is most -needed, they and their debtors together sink into insolvency. It is this paper system of extravagant expan sion, raising the nominal price of every article far beyond its real value, when compared with the cost of similar articles in countries whose circulation is wisely regulated, which has pre. vented us from competing in our own markets with foreign manufactureri, has produced ex travagant importations, and has counteracted the effect of the large incidental protection af forded to our-domestic manufactures by the pre sent revenue tariff. But' for this the branches of our manufactures composed of raw materials, the production of our own country-such as cot ton, iron, and woollen fabrics-would .not ..only have acquired-almost exclusive possession of the home market, but wpuld have creted for them selves a foreign market throughout the world. Deplorable, however, as may be- our present financial condition, we may yet indulge in bright hopes for the future. No other nation has ever existed which could have endured such violent expansions and contractions of paper credits without lasting injury; yet the buoyancy of youth, the energies of our population, and the spirit which never quails before dilliculties, will enable us soon to recover from our present finan cial embarrassment, and may even occasion us speedily to forget the lesson which *they have taught. In the nicantime it is the duty of the govern ment, by all proper meais within its power, to aid in alleviating the suffering of the people-oc easioned by the suspensio:i of the banks,.and to provide against a recurrence of the same eli mi ty. Unfortunately, in either-aspect of the case, it can do but little. Thanks to the inde endent treasury, the government has not suspended pay ment, as it was compelled to do by the failure of .he banks in 1837. It will continue to discharge its liabilities to the people ine'gold and silver. Its disbursements in coin will pass into circula ;ion, and materially assist in restoring a-sound msrreney. From its high credit, should we be '1mpelled to make a temporary loan, it can be 4ffected on advantageous terms. This,.however, ihall, if p:ssible, he avoided ; but. if not, then he amount shall he limited to the lowest practi able sum. I have, therefore, determined that whilst no iseful government works already in progress - dhall be suspended, new works, not already com noniced, will be postponed, if this enn be done vitlout injury to the country. Those necessary or its defence shall proceed as though there had 3een no crisis in our'nionetary affairs. R-- the federal government ennnnf -r. L a our currency which atliacted the country. hroughout the existence of the late bank:, or tecure us against future suspensions. In 1825 Lit efbrt was made by the Bank of Egland to uirtail the issues -of the country -banks under he most favorable circumstances. The' paper lurrency had been expanded to a ruinous extent, ind the .ik put furth all its4power to contract t in utrIer it) reduce prices and restvre the equili rina of the threignl exchanges. It according y cminumenced a system of curtailment of its Loals and issues, iu the vain hope that the joint neck and private banks of the kingduni would be Compelted to follow its example. It found, lmwever, that as it contracted they expanded, cnd at the end of the process, toeiploy the lan uMag1e of a very high official authority, " what -ver reduction of the paper circulation was ef leeted by the Bank of England (in 1825) wvas more than made tip by the issues of the country banks." But a Bank of the United States would not,if it could, restrain the issues and loans of the state banks, because its duty as a regulator of the currency must otien be in direct conflict with ;he immediate interest of its stockholders. If we expect one agent to restimin or control ruother, their interests must, at least ini some .egree, be antagonistic. But the directors of a Banik of the United States would feel thme same interest and the same inclination with the diree ors of the State banks to expand the cuirrency, ;o aiccomimodate their faivorites and friends with loans, and to declatre large dlividends. Such ias been our experience in regard to the last bank. A fer all, we must mainly rely upon the pa triotismi and wisdom of the States for- the pire vention and redress of the evil. If they will rifor~d us a real specie basis for our paper circu lation by increasing the denomination of bank notes, first to twenty, and afterwards to fifty dol lars; if they will require that the baniks shall at all tiumes keep on hand at least one dollar of gomild and silver for every three dollars of their circu lations and deposites; and if they will provide hb- a self-exceuting enactment, which nothing e-n arrest, that the moment they suspend they shall go into liquidation, I believe th-atsuch provisions, with a weekly publication by each bank of a statement of its condition, would go far to securo as against fut ure suspensions of specie payments. Congress, in my opinion, possesses the power to pass a uniform bankrupt law applicable to all banking institutions throughout the United States, and I strongly recommend its exercise. rhis would make it the irreversible organic law af each bank's existence, that a svspension of ijpecie payments shall produce its civil death. The instinct of self-preservation would then com peI it to pcerformn its duties in sne-h a manner as :o escape the penalty and preserve its life'. The existence of banks and the cirenlation of bank paper are so identified with the habiltsof mr people, that they cannot at this (lay be sud leuly abolished without much immediate injury ;o the country. If we could confine them to their appropriate sphere, and prevent thenm from mdministerinigto the spirit of wild and. reckless ipeculation by' extravagant loans and issues, hey might be continuedf with advantage to the public. But this I say, after long and mnch reflection: f experience shall prove it to be impossible to mjoy the the-ilities which well-regulated banks night aff'oid, withorit at the same tim~e suffering he calamities which the excesses of the banks iave hitherto inflicted upon the country, it woul1,, hen be! far the lesser evil to deprive themi altos rether of the power to issue a paper currency ind confine them to the functions of banks of leposite and discounts. "Sam, why am de belobed ob my heart, i~as, Dinah, de sunflower ob de bill, like a kind ob - el:th day mnak-e in Lowell?" "I don't know, nigger-why ?1" " Cos she's an taMeacihed shte ing. The Indians give each other very significant names. Lieutenant Hooper, of the Aretic Er pedition, found a woman at Fort Simpson, whose name was "Thirty-six Tonue." Tf " Mr. Jones, you said you:wie4 oz ce with the fine arts. Do you mean b~ yout are a scultor ?"-"'No, sirQ donet self, but'I furnish the stone to the .mai ha does."