University of South Carolina Libraries
L~U .. . . . 6We will eling to the pillars of the Temple -O our Libertles, and If It must fall, we will Perish amidst the Ruins. SJERINs, DURISOE & CO., Proprietors. EDGEFIELD, S o .JUNE 2, 1858. 0ni na1 . For the Edgeield Advertiser. " DINA ]OMGET." Remember, love, you piomised, That in May, the mouth of flowers, You'd hasten to our forest home, To cheer my lonely hours. I've missed you sadly dearest, And I longed, to have you here, To feel the warm clasp of your hand, , Your much-loved voice to bear. In your liglesttouch, there's magic, In y9ur looks, a wondrous spell, Which, tho' binds me willing captive, Yet your power I fain would quell. The music of your earnest tones, The sunshine of your smile, So trangely thrills, my inmost being, It soothes and pains the while. Yo! I've missed you, so much darling, Since I gazed upon your face-, But in Faney's far off wand'rings, Oft your features dear, I trace. Come, a welcome glad, awaits you From a heart, al, all your own; Come, cull devotion's choicest flow'rs Which blooms for you alone. Yes, come-we'll roam the greenwood, qylvan dell, and flowery lea, And list enraptured, to sw.et sounds, Which breathes of lore and thee. Our thrope shall be a mossy mound, Nor a gently, murm'ring, stream, Whe Flora's treasures rich and rare, Wih balmy odour teem. Sprin birds shall swell their liquid notes, Their joyous greeting sound All nature, echo "welcome" too, Ab4kve-below-around. The Water nymph, and woodland fay, Their offerine, each shall bring, And tay thee homage, whom my heart, Proclaims its sovereign king. In sweet converse, we'll pass the time, Ana love shall be our theme The hours that seem so weary now Will banish like a drcam. Farewell! I'll ever love you As the perfumes of the rose Round the vase, still softly lingers,- * T hus '11 loVe hee i7l life's close. LUCILLE. GrZX CorpoE, April 30th, 1858 ER' GIL.e eo, tO1 a dy, 1650, a gentleman who had'just arrived from South Carolinazentered the bar-room of the St. Charles Hotel, in the good city of New Orleans, and hastened to consult the directory, which was suspended by a silken cord fastened to one of the marble illars. The stranger turned over the leaves of the volume with a rapidity and eagerness evincing intense anxiety to find some particular name; but his search seemed unsuc cessful, for he heaved a painful sigh, nearly re sembling a sob of despairing anguish, and actu ally grew pale with disappointment. le did not, however, immediately abandon the fruit less investigation, but recurred to the pages again and again with the apparent hope that he might possibly have mistaken the address which he so ardently sought. At length the last gleam of expectation vanished, as he murmured to himself, with bitter emphasis-" Vain delusion, to imagine that outcasts, and perhaps beggars, could have a home to be noted in directories; and very likely they have long since been lost in the great wilderness of the wst, or have entered Aho deep valley of darker shadows where living efe shall never wander ?" The stranger then walked, with stately, solemn steps, to the office, and wrote his own name on the book of arrivals, " Colonel John Moulton, Charleston, S. C." He afterwards went back to the saloon, and endeavored to busy himself in the columns of a newspaper; but his glance continually strayed from the street, to sctutinize the difeirent persons that asuintered about the hall. Any well traveled observer who saw Col. Moulton for the first time, would have recog nised him as a son of that Southern chivalry a class the most deeply defined by specific eharacteristics which the world has yet wit nessed. .He was a large, handsomely-shaped man, some sixty years of age, with a proud but pleasing visage, large brown eyes-flashing the bravest fires, and that indescribable air, blend ing haughtiness with affability, which betokens an Individual accustomed to command with dignity, and to seek obedience more through the medium of moral suasion than the manifes tations of blind. physical force. lie was dressed in a costly suit of sable mourning, and the new erape on his fashionable hat, as well as the tra ces of profound grief on all his features, showed that his bereavement was of a recent dlate. - Presently lie bounded from his seat, at the discovery of an old acquaintance, exclaiming, "How are you, Judge Dickson ? You are the very person that I wished especially to see." "I rejoice myself, very much, to have this unexpected pleasure,'~ replied the other, shaking the proffered hbnd with affectionate warmth. "We have not met since -three winters ago, at Washington." " Great changes have happened to mhe in that brief space," said the Carolinian in a hollow voice. " Has anything gone wrogg in your family ?" inquited the judge, kindly. " I have no family now !"' answered the Co lonel, in accents of unutterable sorrow. llis iron lips trembled, and his proud eyes could not restrain the involuntary rush of tears. "What a terrible misfortune!" cried his friend, in tones of unaffected sympathy. " Yes !" sobbed the solitary mourner, as if speaking to himself; they are all gone ! First, ay beloved life-partner, the sweet sunlight of msoul during more than thirty summers; ten my eldest boy, cut off in the brilliant boom of his promiuse by the demon pestilence of yellow fever; and lastly, my beautiful Wil ham -a bosom's idol, shot down on t he bloody ilof honor ! Like a tree blasted by the lightning, I must now stand alone in the wintry desert of my joyless old sgc, without a drop of kindred blood in the veins of any human being ner in, without a companion, and without een so much as the possibility of a hope.! 'The former acquaintance did not attempt to solacethe disconsolate husband and father, for e knoew ell that eve~ 1rod, implying only e snonosition of coaort or happmness, in such a state of feeling, be like the would touch of a rude finger upon a fresh wound-for the deep est agony of woe spurns the very idea of peace or pleasure as an insult to the dear ones dead, and loves only the blackest folds of the mantle of thought, woven by the imagination of a measweless despair. After some minutes the Colonel became more tranquil, and remarked, with a look tinged with a blush of shame-"Judge, you remember my daughter, Maria ?1" "Certainly," returned his friend, with a coun tenance expressing both pain and astonishment: "and I also recollect that you took a solemn oath never to breathe her name again, or even suffer it to be mentioned in your presence !" "Alas! yes-wretch that I was and am!" exclaimed the Carolinian, quivering in every limb, as if under the influence of epilepsy. "I was wrong," he continued, with terrible energy; " and she was innocent of all offence, save the act of choosing for her husband a youth without fame or fortune. I learned but a few days ago, from the dying lips of the minister who per formed the secret ceremony, that they had been wedded a year when I discovered the intimacy between her and young Simons, my overseer. Oh! why did he not tell me sooner? Yet my pride was then so stubborn, that I could not have forgiven the degradation of such a misal liance, even had [ known the truth." "What a tale of troubles !" ejaculated the Judge, with an aspect of sadness and commis seration. "I have been informed that they removed to New Orleans, and your residence has been in the city ever since the date of their disap pearance. Have you never seen them ?" gasp ed the Colonel. "I saw them both early in the winter sn.bse quent to their arrival," faltered the other. " Where ? How ? For the love or God let me know ihe worst !" cried the exci' -d father, seizing the arIm of his friend with the gripe of an iron vice. " They are both gone !" murmured the judge, with moist eye lids. At this awful announcement, instead of stag gering or storming with his grief, Col. Moulton suddenly grew very calm; but his visage, even to the very lips, looked livid as that of a corpse, and he asked, in a sepulchral tone, with wild, features. " When did it happen ?" " At the time which I have just mentioned," said the other; "early in the winter after their arrival. They were buried together in one grave!" "In that horrible swamp, of course !" groan ed the miserable father. " No, my friend," returned the Judge; "I had them placed in a' handsome tomb, at my own expense, with their names sculptured on the marble, and wrote advising you of the fact." "I never received the letter ; but,'oh ! how ny heart thanks you for the kindness !" respon ded the Colonel, again bursting into t.ears. " As you did not answer my communication, I did not allude to the subject when we met in Washington. supposing it might be disagreeable to your feelings,' apologized the Judge. 1 a But what became of their child?" asked the Carolinian, in a voice-of intense anxiety. " The people near the hut where they died $k p iou - b ed- the touhtU , t, .4pehdwih, r ver a few days prevkid'y ;but Iiunarbil t obtain any certain intelligence of the fact, al though you may well imagine that I made every possible inquiry." " Wasit a boy ?" sobbed the Colonel. " So they told me, as a matter of opinion; yet without positive assurance on the subject." "Where do they sleep?" gasped the father, weeping large tears, one by one, like the first of a thunder-shower. "In the old Catholic cemetery, near the east em gate. You can see their names from the etramnce, on a small pyramid of white marble; but I will show you the spot." "No !" said the Colonel, in a hollow whisper; I would visit the beloved dust of my injured daughter alone !" " How long will you remain in the city ?" "I know not perhaps while I remain on earth. I have sold out everything, and am the misera ble owner of half a millhon-more unfortunate, more utterly wretched and hopeless, than the poorest rag-picker that lives in the gutter." ' Then come and make your home with us, and we will do everything that we can to clear your sorrow ; fur my family, too, have suffered bereavement, and can feel for the affliction of others," urged the judge, in tones of the truest ~"rIam not ungrateful for your kind request," answered the Colonel, mournfully ; "but nmy home must henceforth be in the solitude of may own chamber, where I shall always he happy to receive you. As for myself, I shall never~ more mingle with any sort of society !" At the moment, a youthful, feminine voice was heard singing, near the door, the words of a rude souig, in tones of the strangest yet sdeetest melody and "pathos ever uttered by human organs " Here are flowers for the lieautiful, flowers for the b~rave, Flowers for the bridal, and flowers for the bier ; Iere are flowers for the altar, and flowers for thme nave 9me, who will buny my flowers, the fairest of the ,year? I cull'd thenm in the morning, beneath the break of day, When the silver dews were falling in many a shaining tear; ere are flowers for the gloomy, and flowers for the gay Come, who will buy my flowers, the fairest of the year'" Col. Moulton startedl, with feelings of inde scribable agitation, as thne notes, wildl and be wildering as those of a nightingale, rung through his brain. The voice, with its rich, thrilling, bird-like, inimitable music, possessed a touch of beseeching sadness that lingered in the soul, and haunted the listener's heart as the echoes of a funeral bell, or the tones that sometimes come in the deep dreams of love and sorrow. Immediately the female singer entered the public saloon, with a large basket of radiant dewy flowers upon her arms; and the Caroli nian'felt far more wonder at the remarkable vision of her beauty than he had previously ex perienced from the silver accents of that en chanting tongue. She was a alight', fairy-formed young girl, or rather child, only in her fifteenth summer, with a meek, pale face, musing and melancholly, andl large, mystic eyes of the brightest heavenly blue, but sad And ijhought ful, I had almost said saint-lake, ina the purity of their expression. Her long, yellow hair, gleaming with the lustre of golden threagls, or like a tissue of woven sunbeams, flow'ed around her graceful neck and shoulders in shining waves, and gave her the appearance of some divine picture, the representation of an angel, or other ethereal being. " How beautiful, how celestial !" murmured the Colonel. "It is Marie'Merlin, the pretty flower girl, said the Judge. "HIow strange tbgat she should wander about tme streets, and venture into such improper places as this, with all those matchless elaarms ! I have never seen anything lilge her beauty, save in one-and, indeed, that dtrongly resem ble it," sighed the Carolinian. "It is thus that she supports an aged mother and some worthless brothers and sisters," re turned the Judge; "although she is herself the personation of all- virtue and goodness, in her present occupation she must fall at last !" As he spoke, Marie glided, with unspeakable grace, into the centre of the hall, and resting her fragrant basket on a stand of mottled mar ble, held up in each hand a magnificent bouquet, and repeated, with still wilder pathos and fer vor her musical song in praise of the blooming merchandise. Every beholder seemed equally astonished, as well by her fascinating beauty as by the bewildering sweetness of her voice, so that you might have heard the dropping of a pin on the floor when she iterated, with tones of unutterable sadness, the closing line "Come, who will buy my flowers, the fairest of the year?" The words sounded like the wall of some breaking heart, the imploring cry of an infinite sorrow, or the chaunt of an angel at the portals of Paradise. But immediately the wicked spirit of the genteel loafers and gamblers broke loose from the spell of holy enchantment which had.held them at first, and they swarmed around her, with unseemly jestS and deceitful eulogies of her marvellous beauty. She shrank from them with blushes of maiden modesty, and seizing her burden of perfumes and brilliant colors, turned to the Judge and Colonel with the eager inquiry-" don't you want some of my flowers for your children ?" " Yes, my dear child, T will buy them all." answered the Carolinian, with streaming eyes. "How much are they worth ?" "Five dollars," she replied, with a look of ingled delight and wonder. " Here, I will give you ten," he said, present ing a gold eagle. ." Thank you, sir," she faltered, with still greater .amazement in those large, mystic blue eyes. " You shall have ten such pieces if you will take me to your home, and let ie see your other," added the Colonel, in tones unapeaka bly earnest and tender. 'The cerulean eyez dilated to their utmost ex tension, but shouts of laughter from the well dresed barbarians in the saloon told that the wisper had been overheard; and Marie,. snatch ing the golden eagle, and at-the same instant emptying her basket of bouquets on the mar ble floor, fled from the hall with the speed of a frightened fawn. The Judge and Colonel then parted, and the latter urged his steps towards the old Catholic cemetery, to weep over the beloved dust of his only daughter, the flower idol of his happy home, banished long years ago-murdered, as it were, so he now felt, by his cruel family i pride. It is vain to attempt a description of that mournful meeting between the living and the dead. The highest heayen of joy and the lowest hell of human woe alike elude the touches of pen and pencil. One might as well seek to paint the immensity of space, or draw a chart of eternal duration; for all the most powerful passins have a certain character of infinitude t which baffles the weakness of words, and beats down even the soaring wings of imagination. a After the storin of his agony had spent its r fury, the father noticed, with extreme surprise, most beautiful flowers, all bright ainl' fi the garden, and which, consequently, had been I hung there during the morning. "What kind g hand can have done this ?" he murniured, with increasing wonder. - " My poor Maria has been t buried these fourteen years, and neither she r nor her husband had one friend in this great j metropolis, where the lurid feet of (eath tread I so closely on the hurrying heels of life' Ah i see! all the older graves are bare and naked, 1 while only the recent marbles is clothed with f blootns of green and gold! I will return at the dawn of to-morrow, and wait for the solution t of the mystery." And with this determination, 1 he walked slowly back to the hotel. The next day, with the first faint streaks of < rosy light, Colonel Moulton was again at the< 1(d cemetery. IHe concealed himself behind a monument, and fixed his eyes on the tomb of'1 his daughter. In a short time, several weeping friends of the pale sleepers, whom the music of the morn ing air should never waken more, began to enter and strew flowers over the dust that had I lately died ; but no one so much as sprinkled a rose-leaf on the ancient mnossy graves of the I ashes so long forgotten. " Ah, me !" sighed the Carolinian, " such is life, and such is death!l A brief batt'e, a sure defeat, a wild cry, a few tears, and then the great Lethean river rushes over us, onwards, forever and ever, and blots out even the fond est mnarks of memory from the most faithful i hearts !" A t last, just as the-sun emerged above the lue of the horizon, the Colonel, with utter amazement, saw the flower girl of the previous day advance to the tomb of his Maria, and after I adorning it with her brightest bouquets, drop on her knees before it, as if in prayer. At first, the lips of the maiden moved trem uously, large tears rolled down her pale checks, I and her breath issued in heart-breaking sighs. Then she became more and more impassioned, ii her voice uttered musical murmurs, and, at I length, she wailed aloud-" Oh ! mother of , mine in heaven, dost thou see the sorrows of l thy unhappy ckild ? Pray the Saviour of the world to delivW mo from a life of sin and shame, or take me home to thy bosom !" She gave a startled scream, as a pair of ten-i der arms encircled her waist, and the weeping Carolinian pressed his grand-daughter to his throbbing heart.1 Mtual explanations followed. confirming the, fact beyond the possibility of a doubt. Marie had but lately learned her parentage from the I disclosure of her pretended mother, the widow1 Merlin, while in a state of intoxication. The latter acknowledged the truth to Colonel Moul ton, and edlained everything else that seemed miysterious, stating that she had carried the infant to her h'ouse when the parents were first kid upon their beds by the pestilence, and hoped afterwards to render the singular beauty of the child a source of profit. The gloom has passed away from the brow of the bereaved Colonel, and the beautiful Ma rie is the wife of a celebrated Southern lawyer, witla blue eyed babe of her own; yet still she loves, lowers, the fairest of the year. A Sassor. AnDMmsIloN.-We perceive that at the discussions in the Tract Society touching slavery, a 11ev. Mr. Williams,. of Baltimore, said "'The South acknowledges that slavery ight be a sin, but do 'not wish the North to interfere." Another clerical delegate from the same city, said: "The South felt the' evil of' slavery, and wished the Tract Society to assist in getting rid of it." These gentlemen' proba bly represent public sentiment in Baltimore, in which city scarce a vestige of slavery is left, but it is scarcely necesary to say that they hae no, more right to speak for the South than the dele gtes of Philadelphia or New York. What *ver Baltimore thinks onthat subject, the South neither recognises slavery as anl evil or a sin, nor asks the Tract Society, nor anybalty else to: S he e et rid of it.--Uchmenfd Dispatch. Voltaire ass ' at every gambler is, has )cen or will be bber. Gaming is an evil in he first place, be e it is a practice which prc luces nothing. f the whole human family ere all skillful esteers, and should play con tantly for one le year, there would not be a lollar more in Aorld at the end of the year han at its com cement. On the con t tere would be much less, esides an imm" loss.of time. But, secondly, taming favors ption of mind. It is diffi. 'uit to trace.the greas of the gambler's- mind rom the time w he begins his course, but we Cnow too well th I at which he is destined :o arrive.-Ti may be exceptions, but not nany; generally aking, every gamester soon lr or later, goes erdition, an often ds to is own woe,. agging others along with It discourages ndustry. He who is accus ;omed to secure ge sums at once, which bear 2o proportion to e labor by which they are ob. ained, will ly come to regard the mode -ate, but cons nd.certain rewards of indus ;rious exertions iisipid. The famous osopher, Locke, in his thoughts in education, remarks: "It is certain that fambling leay no satisfaction behind it, to hose who refi hen it is over, and it in no ay profits eith body or mind. As to their 'states, if it a a so deep as to concern them, t is trade then nd not a recreation, wherein ew thrive: an tbest a thriving gamester has ut a poor fit,. who fills his pockets at he price of h putation." J.T. Ieadl his letters from Italy, and he Alps and.) Rhine, says that a "gambler arries his rep ve soul in his eyes, in his face, 1ay, almost in' 'very giit. His very presence mauses a chil' atmosphere around him, that pset all that roach him. flambling more ompletelv ma orphoses % man than other rime except, er." Gaming is ys crimini., eitherin itself or n its tendenef The br'sis or it covetousuess ; desire to tak on others something for whicli ou have neit, given or intend to give an quaivalenL ] ve oftea wondered how sober ud intellige" people, who have c3nsciences, Lnd believe. doctrine of accountability .to 3od-how pro ing christians, as is sometimes he case in tb untry, can sit whole evenings at cards. W notions have they of the value f time ? C ey donedive of Him whose ex mple we ar' und to follow, as engaged in his way? i t a herculean task has christian. ty yetto s pish? The excess this evil has caused even the verthrow of. pires. It leads to conspiracies md furnishe' aspirators. Perhaps the vice ias nowhere-' carried to greater excess than n France 're it has its administration, its hief, its at olders, its..offices, its priests. t has its do ties, its informers, its spies, its imps, its ins, its bullies, its alders, Its Ahettors, in its scoundrels of every descrip ion ; particuj its hireling swindlers, who are aid to entie e. unwary into the hells upon arth, so odi to morality, and so destructive o virtue an 'ristianity. In Engla liis vice has been 'looked upon . one of pe 0 ions consequence to the coi. nonwealth .been for.a long time prohibited my l-w, Ev ep cies of gambling is strictly TuppAished with great verity. en-of: immense wealth have bd'i :nown to enttr gambling |honses, and in a few hort hours to be reduced to beggary. The young should be warned never to enter his dreadful road. Shun it as you would the oad to eternal destruction. Fly the temptation s you would the bite of an asp or a scorpion. ake not the first step ; if you do, all may be si. Say not that yon-eai command yourself hen you approach ithe confineis ofi danger. So liousands iIihave already thought as siieerely as ourselves, and vet they f11. The probabili. that we shall tall where so many have l , re as iilliols to one ; and the contrary is uly the dream of lunacy. When you are in lined to thinh yourself safe, consider those who nec felt themselves equally so, have been cor upted, distressed, ruined by gaming, for this rorld nd that which is to come. Think how many families have been plunged by it into beg. -ary, and overwhelmed by it ini vice. Hlow many en have become liars at the gaming-table, low many perjured, how many' drunxkards, how nany blasphemners. Europe, says Montesqien, Sto be ruined, it will be by gainig. Burgh, in is Dignity of Human Nature, sums up the evils ' gaming as follows: " It is the cause -of infinite loss of time, oif normous destruction of moiney, of irritating the assions, and stirring up avarie; of imuumera he sneaking tricks and frauds ; of encourage sent of idleness ; of disgustia.' people against heir proper employments, anaY of debasing all hat is truly nsoble and valuable in the human ou."N.Y Obsercer -THE TARIFF REPORT. We find in the National 1a.elligencer the fol owing resolutions, which conclude the report of he Select Committee,. of which Mr. Boyce was hairman. The committee, so we see it stated ilsewhere, say they do not entertain the hope at they can inaugurate a new polkcy now. bch radical changes must be the work of time. L'hey do not, therefore, look so much to imnme late practical resul'm as to effect on public >pinion, and thus ultimately insure the triumph if the principles., they advocate. Mr. Garnett Loes not'concur in all the conclusions of the ommittee. The majority report concludes by recommend ng the passage of the following resolutions: 1. Resovecd, That the vast and increasing ex enditure of the Federal Government indicates he necessity of.a change in our fiscal system hereby the protective policy shall be entirely Lbandoned, and a resort bad at as early a period is may be practical exclusively to direct taxa 2. Rsolved, That the ,existing tarif' is defec ive as being founded on the protective policy, ma taxing certain articles of prime necessity too gh, as not discrimi'nating suffieientlyr so as to hrow the burdens of taxation as much as pos mible on articles of necessity, and as placing cer ai articles on. the -freElist which should pay inty ; and that any modification of the tariff which may be made should .be made so as to wvoid these defects, and for the purpose of using he tarif merely as a fiscal instrumentality. . b. )esolhed,. That the highest~ development of he industrial resources of the country is to be ittained by the greatest freedom of exchanges, hich can only be thoroughly accomplished by the entire abolition of duties on imports and a resort exlusively to direct taxation. 4. Resolted, That th6 system of direct taxa tion presenting the most advantages is for each State to collect and pay over its quota, to be ascertained by the-constitutional rule of appor tionment, thus insuring perfect equality and ispensing with multitudes of Federal officers. 5. ResoLred, That the navigation laws should be so modified as not to require any portion of the offers and crews of American ships to be American citizens, and that American citizn shall be free to purchase and sail foreign built ships on an entift.equaility with American built ships, and that the American coasting trade shall be open on terms 'of perfect egnality to roreign ships. OUR NAIY. The Washingion States is doing a good service in bringing to the immediate attention of Con- a gress and of the country the deplorable condi- l tion of the Navy of the United States. According to that journal-thirty effective S ships of all clases compose the present navy of ti the United States; these are all in commission, C and upowthem alone are we to rely for protec- S tion against insult. ti Forty-two years ago, in 181G, with a Com- a merce of about 800,00 tons, the United States t] had seventy-four vessels in good and effective m condition; in 1858 with a Commerce of 5,000,- k 000 tons we have but thirty ships of war in a commission. This number might be increased t4 to fifty but at great expense and delay. s The British Naval Register, October 1857, C gives a list of the British Naval effective force. D That power had then, steam gun-boats and steam h vessels of other classes, 460; sailing vessels of b all classes, 382, making the to.al effective force tl of the British Navy 842 vessels. Of these 107 Y are engaged in what is called Y harbor service," leaving in active service seven hundred and h thirty-five vessels of all claises. There is the condition of both navies, and we b feel convinced that Congress wfi make some e provision for a proper increase of the naval force of the country. If they do not this or empower the President broadly and fully to adopt adequate means for the protection of t American Commerce before they adjourn, their Y constituents at home will receive them but coldly while Preident Buchanan ought to re assemble them for the purpose of inducing them to do their duty in the premises.-Suthrn S Gaard&in. p -INFLUENCE OF FORTUNE-TF-LING.---Some a young persons once applied to an old woman, who, among the vulgar and ignorant, had gained e much celebrity in the art; to each, of course, s, she had sorTthing to say-but to one she did n " a tale ufod]," as much to the purpose, that it 'I caused hc. very soon to leave this world of s, trouble. Aiter premi ing with a deal of non- ' sense, the said she would never be married, but -b that she would oc the mother of three children ; d that she would live ii, great splendor for a pc- s riol, but, after all, she was "zsorry to say," she a would die poor and miserable. Miss. B., while . with .her companons, showed very little signs H of anxiety; but the moment she was left to her b own reflections, one may guess the effect of ' such an harangue on a virtuous but weak mind. It Mark the consequences I She was at the time nl on the point of marriage with a very worthy d and respectable - young gentleman; but such t was the hold which the prediction of the fortune- tl teller bad taken on her imagination, that she s could never, from that time, receive him with ft her usu:l affectionate attention. Her lover, s quickly perceiving the change, endeavored to ? learn the cause of it; but, finding his inquiries JC ineffectual, as also any efforts of his to rouse ,t her to an explanation of her behavior, which became more and more distant, and doubting the sincerity of her afibetion, he, In the course of a little time, discontinued his visits altogeth er.> The young lady, perceiving herself deserted w by the only man she could ever love, and dread- a] ing, that as she had fulfilled the prophecy so te fa, the rest might also be her future lot, con tinued to drag on a now weary existence and at length resolved to. put an effectual stop to this progressive dishonor to her name, by com'. mitting a crime that could never be repented of. One morning,at the usual hour, her family find- tll ing she did not appear, sent to inquire the cause, atl when she was found lying dead on her bed, w having the night before taken two ounces of laudanum to effect her purpose. On the toilet was found a note, detailing the particulars and reasons for committing so Aucking on ac/, of h which the preceding is the outline. Thus per ished an innocent and lovely girl, in the flower t of her vouth, through the baneful influence of bi fortune-telling-but giving at the same time ,. the flattest contradictions to the prophecy against her.-American Uiion. --- tli Tur. PmhINn's DOLLtAns.-Th~e printer's dol- in lars! Where are they?7 We will suppose one 'di f them in somebody's pocket in Toronto, an- sI ther in Hamilton, another in Woodstock, and hi a fourth in St. Thomas, while a fifth is resting ci securely in some city or town in the far west. A dollar here and there, scattered, all over towns, all over the country, miles apart-how et shall they be gathered together? The type 5" founder has his hundreds of dollars against the II printer, the paper maker, the building owner, P the journeyman compositor, the grocer, theG tailor, and all assistants to him in carrying on w his business, 'have their demands, hardly ever U so small as a single dollar. But the mites from da here and there inust be diligently gathered and Ic patiently hoarded,. or the wherewith to (dis- 1 charge the large bills will never become bulky. f We imagine the printer will have to get up an ai address to his widely .scittered dollars some- te~ thing like the following:-" Dollars, halves, n quarters, dimes, and all-manner of fractions tI into which ye are divided, collect yourselves W and come homib! Ye are wanted ! Combina- ~ tions of all sorts of men that help the printer a' to become a proprietor, gather in such force and !9 demand with such good reasons your appear- ui ance at his counter, that nothing short of a el sight of you will appease them. Collect your- C selves, for valuable as you are in the aggregatet single you will never repay the cost of gther ing. Come in here in silent single file, that the " printer may 14m you into battalions, and send you forth again to balttle for him and vindicate 0 his feeble credit." Rheader, are, you sure you hav'nt a couple of the printer's dollars sticking about your clothes ? , tI Gor wHAT us .vwas AFvr.R.-A young gentg is discovered surrounded by his friends, who are jesting with him regarding his attentions t to a certain young lady.-b Young Gent.-" Boys, Ill tell you how itb is: You know 1 care nothing- for the girl-It t' is the old man's pocket book I am after-" Chorus of friends.-" Ha! ha !" . Scene second-A parlor. Time 11 P. M. y Young lady seated. Young gentleman rises to depart, hesitates4, as if bashful, and then slowly " Miss Matilda, excuse mue, but yon must be aware that my frequent visits, my attentions, cannot have been without an object." t Young lady.-"AIb, yes, sn P've heard, and shall be only two happy to grant what you de- I sire. [Takes from the table a paper parcel, I and unfolding it displays a large old-fashioned and empty morocco pocket-book.] This, I have' been informed, is your object. Permit me to present it, and congratulate you that you will in future have no further occasion to renew those visits and attentions.". Young gentswoons. q 'A WITTY ARIST in one of our western t< cities, met a poet friend of his, the other day, Ip from'New York. "I am perfectly delighted a to see you, said the artist, throwing his armI affectionately around his friend's neck; " how' long are you going to stay ?" "I think," saI4 p the poet, "that I shall stay as long as my money g lasts." u"Oh I how badly disappointed I am," d sai the artist, in a tone of deep sadness; ",I nu, ,ou icere going to stay a day or two.\, I SIGHT LIVING. "To love and to labor is the sum of living, nd yet how many think they live who neither ibor nor love." What a bright thought it is, set in quaint old axon I The first part of the sentence is a beau ful text for one's life, while the other is an qually sad commentary on the "living of a reat portion of humanity I And are not these wain, the loving and the laboring, the:one "roy law" of the Bible, and do they not bring with iem their own exceeding great reward? Ye 'ho seek after happiness, behold, here is the ey I This sitting down, folding up one's hands, d moping away one's life in vain yearning af. r affection, will never do you any good. Just op out of yourself, and live for and in others. o out with a brave spirit into the world, and inister to the wants of humanity. Every where ands are reaching out for help; everywhere leeding hearts are needing the-balm of sympa ty and tenderness. The little - children want Dur smile, the old people want some comforting ords ; and the strongest and the best have their Durs of weakness and of need. So don't sit still, we pray you, for this is not ving. But " whatsoever your right hand find h to do, do it with your might," with a true, Onest heart and purpose; and no matter how envy may be the darkness of the night through hich you are walking, the morning will rise, ie flowers will blossom, and the birds sing about >u.-Arthur s Magazine. SOUTHERN MANUFATURES.-The Philadelphia edger has an article on the rapid increase of outern manufactures. It thinks that the peo le of its section are not aware of the rapidity of is pr6gress. In the concluding part of the rticle are the following reflections: "The enlightened patriot, even if, as a North m man, he may think the interests of his own etion injured by these Southern factories, can at but observe their progress with gratification. he mistake of the Snnth has been to confine it If too entirely to a.nelculture. Such a policy ill, sooner or later, :haust aniy nation.. t has in the principle ca..se of the comparatively eline of the older slave Statc s, and will produce inilar results in the new ones, if persevered in, soon as their s.ls become also vorn out. ne of the cardinal niaximns of politicai economy that the producer and consumer should be rought as near together as possible, for in this ay, profits of middle men are saved, and the d enriched by the. refuse of the non-agriculta-. J population. Too much attention las been ivoted in some parts of the North to Manufac res, and too little to agriculture, so that, in lose places, the healthy ballance has been de royed. in the South, on the contrary, manU ctures have been too much neglected, with a ailar consequence. The well-wisher bf his tuniry, lie who is for the whole country, will re ice to see, in both sections, the harmony res red between agricultures and manufactures. HOnD MEIna.--A most horrible murder as committed near Searcy, Ark., on Saturday, e 10th inst.. David -S. Lewis murdered his f's father, Wells C. Bewler. The parties were I from Gordon county, Georgia, and weie on eir way to Texas, when the crime was cointait d. The earcy Eagle gives the foljowing ao unt of the affair: It seems from the statements of the mbrdered ain s wife and his three daughters, that Lewis Ad married Bewler's daughter, and was a drink (I worthless scamp. The two hid a quarrel at e river and Lewis left the company to proceed one. On the next day he overtookiheni aga, lked up to the buggy that Bewler and his wife rc in, d emlandedI some of the pioperty and be o refused, deliberately shot Dewler with a Cge ritle. The ball struck Bewler's arn, which threw up tr protection, about the elbow and nged up and through the arm and passed in the head below the eye. ]ewler fell from the yggv, and the wretch struck him in the face th the iron im.uzzle of the gun. The unfortu te man was raised fron the ground by his wife d daigiter.<, gronning in great agony, when e fiend deliberately reloaded his rifle, remark. g, d-n von, von are not dead yet, but you shall e, and walked up within a few feet and again at him in the back. The wretch has maide s escape. Great efforts were made by our izens to take hima but without avail. GE~nAr. C~iss .?gD TiPERAxeE.-Col. Orr ited, the other day, that he heard General Cass ysome years ago, he never had tasted spirits his life. The Colonel, thiniking about the ex ession, thought perhaps, he had misunderstood eneral Cass, and last winter enquired of him ether or not he hind mis~understood him. The neral assured Col. Orr that he had not misun :rstood him:, that it was true, lie had never las I distilled spirits in his life, and had not drank, his whole life, more than half a pint of wine I ere is a temperence man worthy of his caldhng, d enjoying, in a ripe old age, the fruits of his wperance-health, strength, vigor of body and id. But it is a wonder that any one can pass rough life and arrive at the age of sev'enty.-five ithout ever having tasted a beverage so umiver ,1 in the country in which he has lived. We Lould suppose curiosity would prompt a man to ste a drink .which his friends were constantly dulging in. We should suppose, too, that ac de,.a minft. cause a man to taste. But General sas is not a solitary instance of one pasmig rough life without ever having tasted spirits. re remember to have heard the late Dr. T hom B. Williams, of Greenville,-say, that ho never vi tasted sprt in his life, and that the smell 'it was nauseating to him,-Southern Patriot. O'N oF vTE JUsriens.-There hives,. not a iousaid miles from this place, a certain Jus ee of the Peace, who a short time smnee had a mtleman arraigned before him on. :a charge of rindling. The 'following is the substance of a trial: Justice of the Peace.-Prisoner, you are ought before-me accused of an accusation to >mmnit a swindle, and it now mnvolves upon you r~ve yourself guilty or not guilty to the sat faction of this h~ionorable court. What say Prisoner.-Not guilty. Justce.-Loking mndigna'nt and surprised he h-l you say! .Why I am now writing out permittius to send you to jail. The prisoner arose to object to such a sum ry roceeding, hut tho Justice informed him a t thar' war nd use .ov talkini,".and if' he didn't shet, his mouth," d-d if lie wouldn't fine him r contempting~ the honorable court. The per. ittimus was signed, handed to an officer, and ec prisoner jugged.-[ Cofeerille. (Miss.) Intel -en ce. on'T WAsT.-Waste nothing! A crumb bread may keep life in a starving bird; a .reand useful volume may he written with one r l from the wing of a goose ; and an inch or rooof writing paper has served for a dispatch save an army frm falling into the enemy's wer. Waste nothing!i "Gather up the Ang' ets, that nothing be lost," e ntlan, dined, oPe day with a dull pher Vinner was scarcely over, befaro the matleman fell asleep,but was awakened by the ivine and invted to go and hear him preach. "I beseech you, sir," said he, "to excuseime; ..ann sepvery well where I am." - KEEP COOL !--The. SaieAi$c Anmmicp g"ves us the following: "The warm weather will shortly be here, and every one will be seeking the refreshing innu once of a cool and shady places whereuntothe can retreat from the blazing sun; so we give our readers a few hints concerniig the cooling of their houses. The first necessty is a thorough draft. This can always be obtamed by opening ever door and window in the base ment, the top of every window above.-and by throwing each door wide open; but above all, be sure that the trap door in the roof is open, and there is plenty of air room from It down the stairs, so that whichever be the direction of tlie wind, there will be at least one ascending current of air in the house. Another requisite is shade. Our common slat shutters answer well for the windows, but the moit chep and convenient shelter for the roof is to cover' it thickly with straw, dried reeds, or rushs. These will resist the Influence of the noonday sun, and keep the garret almost as cool as the basement. One of the most simple ,method, and at the same time cheapest means of artifi cially lowering the temperature of a room is to wet a cloth of any size, the larger the better, and supend it in the place you want cooling; let the room be well ventilated, and the temper ature will sink from ten to twenty degrees in less than half an hour. The above hints will be useful to usany, and as a last suggestion,.we. will inform. the reader that in summer, it is well to keep a solution of chloride of lime in the house, and occasionally sprinkle it-in the more frequented parts, at the passage and stairs. THz ONLY WAY.-The only way for.an editor to get aloig, and preserve his own self-respect, is to please hitiisel, and let the rest of mankind take care of themselves.-Ezea 'ge. In course it is. A4 to the idea ofpleasing everybody, why it's just the way to displease averybo-ly, which, of course, includes the editor himself There. are a great many people -who are very confident they could conduct. an .i tor's paper for him much better than hecan dp it for himself. A trial would conv4e them that they could do it at least for.ffteemlnates, if not longer, to their owvn entire satWtlion. One whole day would, almost to a eriinty, give th.em reasons for thinking somrelaxatin absolutely essential to their health an4..ingpi nes.-Pkiaddphia Eiening Bulletin.4 A TALE OF Lov.-The Chicago Union relate the story of a wealthy lady on the shady sid of forty-five, who became enamored of a yenth of twentytwo, invited him to hot house, There, after some preliminary remarks, he made Miat an offer of marriage. The young man deoli'd the offei, being already in, love with a youg lady, but after several interviews the widowr ually won the young man to her views, and inl. ly he consented to and did marry her. After the marriage she refused to make over the real. estate to her husband, and this displeased him. Recently lie has abscon-led with the young lady and his wife has sent police officers after him, offering to give him full control of all ber prop erty, if he will but return alone to his home. A GooD AiecDo'r.-Thd foi o~ng converma tion was overhard among "~ th oluiters of the Rio Grande. - Scene, night-Two voluntes app"sm in blankets and half buried in mud. Voluuteer.lst,-." Jim- how come you to volui teer." Volunteer 2d-" Why; Bob, you see, I have no wife to care a red cent for me, and 'so I vol nteered-and, besides, I love war. Now tell me how you came out here ?" Volunteer lIt-" Why, the fact is, you know, r-1-I have got a wife, and so I came out here because I like peace I" Hereupon both the volnuteers turned over in their blankets, got i- new plastering of mud, and went to sleep. " Nicaas og NovurNu."-The ship-owners on Saturday evening resolved that " the Ameri an flag covers the cargo," whether that cargo consists of "niggers or nothing." That's the talk. Suppose an American war vessel should board an English ship because it was supposed to be engaged in the coolie trade; would there not bea row?' Yet we must put up with al kinds of insults, simply because somebody takes few niggers from the jungles of Africa to Cuba. So says the New York Day Book.. GOOD RUL~rs FOR ALL.-Frofane swearing is~ abominable. Vulgar language is .disgusting. Loud laughing is impolite. Inquisitiveness is - offensive. 'fattling is mean. Telling lies con temptible. Slandering is devilish. Ignorance is disgraceful, and lazine~s is shamneful. Avoid all the above vices, and aim at usefulness. This is the road in whlich to become respectable. Walk in it. Never be ashamed of honest labor. Pride is a curse-a hateful vice. Never act the hypocrite. Keep good company. Speak tho truth at all times. Never be discouraged,~ but persevere, and mountains will become mole-hills. SLANDER SLAvs bionE THAN THE Swoan. One day, conversing in his usual half-true man ner of the evils of war, Aaron Burr is said.to have remarked: " Slander has slain more than the sword." He is also reported to have added: " I fear that I have conmitted a great error; the men who knew their falsity are mostly dead, and the generation who now read them may' take them for truths, being uncontradicted. I admit I have committed a capital' error, but it is too late to repair it." Faur.-If the crop of fruit promise to be heavy remove from the limbs as many as you think are superfluous. Do not be too sparing: the improvement-among those whiehi remain wi be a full reward for the imagined loss .by those which are destroyed. Hunt out the caterpilles's, nests, and destroy them. - " A Ga'V.~."-A man -named Daniel MWil son was stopped yesterday in Washin on streot. for smoking in the street. Being to d- that it 'was g5 fine, he handed the man who demanded it a $20 gold piece, wh3 went after the change, and has not returned vet. So Daniel told the Mayor at his office.-N. Y. Day Book. -- - SARDNEs.-GeniUine sardines are* 'taken in great abundance in the Cooza river, a few'miles above Wetumpka, Alabama. They are said to be delicious, and, for want of a market, theIa' ters feed them to theirmnegroes. ,,Whay is it,!' asked a Frsathmanofa Switzer, "that you Swiss alwy fight for money, -rhile we French only fgtor.honor?" I suppose," said the Switser,"ht both fight for what they most lack," Humility ever dwells with men of noble minar. Iti oe htpo~snot on poor and bar ren soils, but-in grounSthat is beautifuL Muggins says that Job's turkey as fa om pared with an old gobbler'he shot last weekeon th~e Devil's Fork. That ras dlgh it down