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wan*, ^ . ,,., .< : + Try* !- '^y?wr?*y : ? "?- ? '" 1'".' ???? ??. i ?? ??*^"g^as $2 PER ANNUM llig With ihc wondorN of cacli pacing ?lay.~ IN ADVANCE 3. /ainilg Dttit politiral |Jrnupapn?Draattlt ta tjjr 3rts, srirarrs, litrratnrr, tBaratinii, 3grirnltore, 3atrrnnl SuiproaeuiMts, /nrtigu nub Domrstic 3?irui5, nub tljc 3^!nrktts. VOLUME V. LANCASTER, C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 8, 135G. NUMBER 34. Custalum #oiii. [From the Home Journal. BEAUTY'S EYE. * When the light shines serene, but doth not glare." Ilast thou not marked the evening sky, I Serene in mellowed light. Ere gnuday day, alow gliding by, Melts into sombre night ? When gorgeous clouds that lend the sun, Are fading into gray, And he, his course of triumph run, Sinks in the west away ? llast thou not deemed that sky more fair, Its r.tdi.mt lustre gone. Then when that sun resplendent there, Kobcd it in light nlono ? In light thnt hid the varied hues His settine hour reveals. A* softening shades our heaven diffuse A charin his glare conceals ! Thus Beauty, when her paling sun Withdrawn his dazzling rays. Her day of pride and conquest done, A twilight grace displays. Her heart's soft eve?Us vesper hour? Which lovely tints array, That in that sun's meridian power A re lost in vivid day. 51 fflfftrfr ftnrij. [From Chambers' Journal. TIIE PAINTER AND IIIS PUPIL. My father whs h trader and distiller at Schiedam, on the .Man*. Without being wealthy, wo enjoyed tho means of procurjug every social comfort. We gave and received visits from a few old friends ; we V%t*lit mVMiulliHiiv li llii? lliiMitrt* mii.i mr fflilicr had bin tulip garden and summer Itouae at a little distance truiu Schiedam, on i!i<- hanks of tliu f ilial which connects the town with the river. Hut iny father and mother, w hoso only child I was, cherished one dream of ambition, in which, fortunately, my own tastes led me to participate ; they wanted me to be a painter. ** Let me hut see a picture by Franz Linden in the gallery at ltoUerdnm," said my father, " and I shall die happy." So, at fourteen y ears of age, I was removed froin school, and placed in the classes ?r a* er Kesler, au artist living at Delft. I lore I made such pro gress, ili.it by the time I had reached my nineteenth birthday, I was transferred to atelier of llans Van I too*, a descendant of the celebrated family of that name.? Van l&oot was not inore that thirty eight or forty, and bud already acquired a con siderahle reputation, as a painter of portraits and sacrcsl subjects. There was an altar picca of his in one of our finest churches; his works had occupied the place of honor, for the last six years at the annual exhibition ; and for portrait ure, he numbered among his patrons most of the wealthy merchants and burgomasters of the city. Indeed, there could l>? no question that my master was rapidly acquiring a fortune equal to his populuri 1y* Still, bo was not a cheerful man. It was whispered by the pupils (hat he met with a disappointment early io life?that he bad loved, was accepted, and oo the eve of marriage, was rejected by the lady, for a more wealthy suitor. The story, however, was founded merely oc conjecture, if not originating in pure fable ; for no one in Rotterdam knew the history of hie youth. Ho came from Friesland, in the north of Holland, when a very young man; ho had always been the ?ame gloomy, pallid, Iabor-loving citizen, lie wai a rigid Calviuist; ha waa aparuig of domestic expen liture, and lilieral to the poor; liti? every one could tell you, and po one knew mora. The number of hie pupils was limited to six. He kept u? continually at work, and scarcely permitted ua to exchange a word with each oilier during the day.? Standing there aiuong us so silently, with the light from above shining down upon hie pallid face, and contrasting with the sombre folds of bit long, btuck dressing gown, ho looked almost like some stern old picture himself. To tell the truth, we were all alraid of hiin; not that he was harsh, not that he assumed any overbearing authority : on the oontrary, ha was stately, silent, and frigidly polite; and that waa Isr more impressive. None of ua resided in his house, for he lived in the deepest seclusion. 1 had a second floor in a neighboring street, nod two of my fpiiow students occupied rooms in the same house. We used to meet at night in each other's chambers, and make excursions to the exhibitions aud theatres; and sometimes, on a summer's evening, we would hire a pleasure boat, and row fbr a mile or two down the river. \V? wore merry enough, then, and not quite ] so silent, I promise you, as ia tUo gloomy studio of Hans Van Roos. In tlie mean time, I was ambitious and anxious to glean every beuefit from my master's instructions. I improved rapidly, and my paintings soon excelled those of the other five. My taste did not incline to sacred subjects, like that of Van Roos, but rather to the familiar rural stylo ol Berghein and Paul Potter. It was my delight to wauder along the rich pasture lands, to watch the amber sunset, the herds going home to the dairy, the lazy wind mills, and the calm, clear waters of the canals, scarcely ruffled by the passage of the public trtckschuyt, (canal boat.) ? In depictiog scenes of this nature? " Tlie slow canal, the yellow-blossomed vale, The willow.tufted bank, tlie gliding sail"? 1 was singularly fortunate. My master never praised me by word or look ; hut when my lather came up one day, from Schiedam to visit me, he drew him aside and told him, ill a voice inaudible to the rest, that " Messer Franz would be a credit to the profession which so delighted the good distiller, that he straightway look me out with liiin for the day, and after giving 1110 fifteen gold pieces, as a testimony of his saiisractiun, took mo to dine with his friend the burgomaster, Von Gaol. It was an eventful visit for me.? (Jii that evening, I first learned to love. Few people, I think, would at thai time have denied the personal attractions of Got rude Von Gael ; yet I do nut know that it was so much her features, us her soft voice and gentle womanly grace, that so completely fascinated uie. Though so young, she pel formed the honors of hei lather's princely table, with self possession and good breeding. In the evening, site sung some sweet German songs to hei own simple accompaniment. We ta ketl of hooks and of jioeiry. 1 found her well read in English, French and German literature. We spoke of art ; and she dilcovered both judgment and enthusiasm. A? we took our leave at night, the bur monaster shook ine warmly by the hand, and told uie to lumc often. I fancied that Gertrude's blue eyes biightened when lie said it. and I felt the color rush quickly to my hiuv, as 1 bowed nud thanked him. " hVtttiz," said my father, when wo were once more in the rtreet, "how o!o] are you "Jii?i twenty two, sir," I replied, rather surprised ul the question. " Von will not ho dependant on your brush, my boy," continued my father, as he leaned on my arm, and looked back at lire lofty mansion wo had just left. " I have l>een neither wasteful nor unsuecess fnl, and it will be my pride to leave you a respectable income at my death." I inclined my head in silence, and woniered what would comu next. " Burgomaster von Gael ia one o' my oldest friends," said my father. ' I have oftcli heard you speuk of him, sir," I replied. " And he is rich." II Sn I kimn.xtu " Gertrude will litre a fine fortune," Mill my father, n* if thinking aloud. 1 bowed again, but this time rather tiervoudy. " ilurry her, Fran*." I dropped his arm and started hack. "Sir! 1 (altered : * I?I?mairy the 1'iaulein von Gael!" "And pray, sir, why not?" said my father, curtly, stopping short in his walk, and lenning botli hands upcu the top ol his walking stick. I made no reply. "Why not, sir I" repeated my father, ?ery energetically. ** What could you wish for better! The young lady is handsome, pood tempered, educated, rich.? Now, brans, if I thought you had been such a fool ns to form any other attachtueul without" * O, air. you do me injustice !" I cried. Indeed, 1 know no one?have seen no other holy. Hut?do you think that? that she would have me, sir ?" "Try her, Frnns," said my father, good humoredly, as he resumed my arm. " II I am not very much mistaken, the burgo master would he as pleased as myself; and aa fur the fraulcin?women are easily won." We bad by thii tjme, reached the dooi of the inn, where my father wai to sleep tor the night. As he left me, his last words were, ** Try her, Frant?try her." From this time I became a frequent visitor at the house of the burgomaster, von Gael. It was a large, old fashioned mansion, built of red brick, and situated ti|K>n the famous line of houses, known as the Boompjeea. In front lay the broad vhining river, crowded with merchant vessels, from whose masts fluttered the flags ?f all the trading nations of the world.? Tall trees, thick with foliage, lined the quays, and cast a pleasant shade, through which the sunlight flickered brightly upon the spacious drawing rooms of Gertrude's home. Here, night afler night, when the stu* dies of the day were passed, I nsed to sit with her beside the open window, and watch the busy passing crowd beneath, the rippling river and the rising moon thsl tipped the masts and apiree with silver. IIere, listening to the accents of a distant ballad singer, or to the fur murtuer ol ! voices from the shipping, we read together from the pages of our favorite poets, and ai counted the first pale star? that trembled tu into light. < It was a happy time. Hut there came at last a time still happier, when, one btiil v? evening as we sal alone, conversing in hi unfrequent whispers, and listening to the ai beating of each other's hearts, I told Ger- ct r trude that I loved her ; and she, in an- at sxver, la;d her head silently upon my i shoulder with n sweet confidence, as she tli were content to rest so forever. Just as my father had predicted, the Rurgoinas- sn ter showed every mark of satisfaction, and y< readily sanctioned our betrothal, specify- in ing but one condition, and this was that Y our marriage should not take place until I a was in my twenty fifth year. It was a sii long time to wait; but I should by that | time, perhaps, have made a name in my ?i profession. I intended soon to send a pic I lure to the annual exhibition?and who G i ; could tell what I might not do in three m i j years, to show Gertrude how much I lov- tli ' ed her. in And so our happy youth rolled on,and cc the quaint old dial in Mcsser von Gael's tulip garden told the passage of our gold lb en hours. In the mean lime I worked m i sedulously at my piclme ; I labored upon v< it all the winter ; and when springtime a* came I sent it in, with 110 small anxiety "t as to tta probalde position upon the walls at 1 of the galiery. It was a view in one of hi the streets ot Rotterdam. There were the ci high, old houses, with their gables, and sr. carvcn doorways, and the red sunset glit- tl tering on the bright, winking panes of the P1 1 upper windows?the canal, (lowing down V ' the centre of the street, crossed by its g 1 white drawbridge, with a barge just pas- p 1 . sing underneath?the green trees, spread- o | ing a long evening shadow across the yel d 1 | low paving of the roadway, and the spire tl I j of the church of St. Lawrence rising high " | beyond, against the clear, warm sky.? p ! When it was quite finished, and about to K I bo sent away, even Hans van Room no 1 n j dial a cold encouragement, and said that u j it deserved a good position, lie had him- h I 1 self prepared a painting this year, on a I more HHiliilinua .....I ? -- I ? , VI n Iftigci V.I%IJT1IS n| j than usual. It was u sacred lulj^t, and p represented the Conversion of St. Paul.? His pupils admired it warmly, and none ' 1 more than myself. We all pronounced it <*< I to bo a masterpiece, and lLo artist was evidently of our opinion. The day of exhibition cnine at last. 1 at had scarcely slept the previous night; and tl the early morning found me, with a nutn H her of students, waiting impatiently before the yet unopened door. When I arrived, tl it wanted an hour to the time; hut half ? the day seemed to elapse before we heard ? the heavy bolts give way inside, and then a forced our way struggling through the H narrow barrier*. I had llown up the stair- I? case, and found myself in the first room, fi' amid the bright walls of paintings and f,J gilt frames. 1 had forgotten to purchnse i a catalogue at the entrance, and I had oi not patience to go hack for it; so 1 strode fa round the apartment, looking eagerly for G my picture : it was nowhere to be seen, so I passed on to the next; here my search tl wns equally unsuccessful. m "It must be in the third room," I said n to myself, "where all the best works are ei placed. Well, if it be buna ever *r? liiirli it , n _ ? " B-i I " or in ever so dark a corner, it in, at all c< ' events, an honor to hare one's picture in ' tl (he third room I" ai Hut though I spoke so bravely, it was ' with a sinking heart I ventured in. I i could not really hope for a good place <; among the magnates of the art; while in 8| either of the other rooms, there had been to( a possibility that m v picture might receive [ a tolerable situation. e, The house had formerly keen the man- u, sion of a iticrchaiit, of enormous wealth, 8t who had left it, with his valuable collec- n] tion of paintings, for the purpose of ati'ord- |0 ing encouragement to Flemish art.? j. The third foin had been bis reception- j i charubei, and the sp?v. if the tn??nifi- k. cetilly carved ch'.muey was assigned, as C( the place of honor, to the beet paiuting.? The painter of this picture always received a cosily prize, for which he was likewise ,| indebted to the munificence of the founder, fl, I To this spot nay eyes were naturally turned as I entered the door. Was I dream- j|, ing I 1 stood still?I turned hot and 0| ' cold by turns?1 ran forward. It was no jn delusion! There was tny picture, my . own picture, in its little in nlcst frame, in- p ' stalled in the chief place of all the galle c, > ry 1 And there, too, was the oflicial card i.. , stuck in the corner, with the words, 'A "Prize Painting," pi in ted in shining gold j letter* in the middle 1 I ran down the staircase bought a catalogue, that my ,t{ eyee might be gladdened by iho confirmation of thia joy ; and there, sure enough , i was printed at the commencement: " Annual Prize Painting?View in Rotterdam No. ] 27 ?Frantz Linden," I could have 11 wept for delight. I was never tired of h looking at my picture: I walked from one tide to the other?I retreated?I ad ' vanced closer to it?I looked at it in eve- h ry possible light, and forgot all but my happiness. < " A very charming little painting, air," T{ said a voice at my elbow. It was an ohlerly gentleman, with gold v spectacles, ami an umbrella. I colored b up, and said, faluringly : ** I>o you think n r j so f o I M I Jo, sir," saij the old gentlemao. "I ; tj an amateur?I ain very fond of picire?. I presume that you arc, also an fac linirer of art ?'' I bowed. " Very nice little painting, indeed; ? i?ry nice," be continued, as be wiped ba s glasses, and adjusted tlicin with the r of a connoiseur. " Water very liquid wa dors pure, sky transparent, perspective an luiirable. I'll buy it. an ' Will you ?" I exclaimed, joyfully. "O, ral lank you, sir ?" au 'O, said the old gentleman, turning as iddenly upon mo, and smiling kindly,"so stu ju are the artist, are you ? Happy to nke your acquaintance, Messcr Linden, aft ou are a very young man to paint such tin picture as that. I congratulate you, en r; and I'll buy >t " So we exchanged cards, shook hands 8jr id became the best friends in the world, was burning with impatience to see tin crtrude, and tell her till my fortune; but ra y new patron took my arm, and said j)U lat be must make the tour of the rooms ll0 my company ; and 1 was forced to uo imply. * in We stopped before a large painting, ol, nit occupied the next best situation to line: it was my master's work, tlie C >nirsntion of St. Paul. While we were j* lmiriiig it, nnd 1 was telling him of my j. udies in the atelier of the painter, a man ^ artcd from before us, and glided away, ut not before I bad recognized the pale 1 >unlenance of Van lions. There was . itnelhing in the expression of his face eo nit shocked me?something that stopi'd my breath, and made me shudder.? Hiat was it! I scarcely knew ; but the laro of bis dark eyes, and the quiveiiug ^ assion of bis lip, haunted mo for the rest f the day, nnd came back again in my ^ reams. I said nothing of it to Gertrude . lat afternoon, but it bad sobered my tptuoiu exultation most effectually. I ositively dreaded, the next day, to return . > the studio; but, to my surnrise. int I 111 luster received me as be iieior received 1,1 ic before, lie advanced, and extended f'1 in band to me. 1,1 " Welcome, Frantz Linden," be said, ea oiling; " I am proud to call you my pu- ra il." " re' The hand was cold?the voice whs oc areh?the smile was passionless. My *l<: nnpunioos crowded round and eongratu- co tted me; and, in the warm tones of their oung, cheerful voices, and the close pres ^r* ire of their friendly hands, I forgot nil 00 ml bad pained me in the conduct of Van ,00a. m Not long after this event Gertrude's fa- rei icr deairsd to have her portrait painted 'Ul -to console him for her absence, he said heu I should bo so wicked ;is to take her iva] from him. I recommended my old taster, whoso tutelage I had recently ns ft; and Van ltoos was summoned toful* I a task that I wc?uld gladly have per* ?ft Tilted; but portraiture was not my line. I could paint a sleek, spotted milch cow r a drove of sheep, far better than the ,,,( ,ro skin aid gulden curls of my darling ' ' erlrude. She could not endtire the artist from '0< le tirst. In vain I reasoned with her ad strove to persuade her?all was of | hit 0 u?e ; and alio used to say, at the end of en rery such conversation, that alio wished |>? to portrait were finished, and that she on >u!d no more help disliking him than? m tan she could help loving me. So our in; rgumenls always euded with a kiss. lo< But this portrait took a long time. Van l''' ,ooa was in general, a rapid painter; yet erlrude's likeness progressed at a very ow pace, and like Penelope's wcl>, seem1 never to be completed. One morning happened to be in the room?a rare rent at that time, for I was hard at work pli pon my new landscape?and I was to ruck by the change that had come over to ty late master. He seemed to be no lis mger tbe saino man. There was a light i his eye, and vibration in his voice, that had never observed before ; and when of a rose to take leave, there was a studied ini >urtesy in his bow and manner that took ha 10 quite l>y surprise. Still, I never suspected the truth, and ie portrait was as lar as ever from being SH nislied. It all came out at last; and one morn- in g Hans van Roos made a formal offer p hit hand and heart; of course he was ? nmediately refused. " But as kindly as was possible, dear rant*," she said, when she told ine in the _ . ? i : * rvtiing , iw nuw no is yonr menu, and l scaue he seemed to feci it so deeply.? nd?and you don't know how dreadful- j white he turned, and how he tried to |(f utlraim his tears. I pitied him, Frantz ; ^ nd indeed, 1 was very sorry." And the gentle creature could scarcely },j eep froiu weeping herself as she told me. I did not ace Van Rocs for some (jt lonths after this disclosure; nt last I met im accidentally one morning in front of |)( ic sladl house, and to my surprise, for ^ le second timo in his life, he held out V( is hand. Ar M A good day to you, Measer Linden," ftt kid he. "1 hear that you are on the high h( >ad to fame and fortune." wj * I have been very prosperous, Mesaer lo an Kooe," I replied, taking the proffered ? and?*' more prosperous, perhaps, than fe iy merits deserve. I never forget that I in we my present proficiency to the hours in pent in your atelier," | * A peculiar expression Hilled over 1 e. "It I thought that," said he hastily, I should esteem myself particulai ppy." l'hcre was so odd a difference in t iy in which lie uttered the beginni d end of this sentence?so much hui d pass'on in the first half, such deiil le politeness, in the last, (lint 1 start d looked him full in the face: ho v smiling and impenetrable as a mail it uro. " I, too, have been fortunate," he si er a moment's pause. " Llavo you se e new church lately built near the e d of the llaring-vliel!" I rephed that I had observed it in p ig, but had not beeu inside. " 1 have been entrusted," lie said, "w e superintendence of the interior de< lions. My 'Conversion of Si. Paul' rchased for the altar piece, and I > w engaged in painting a series of fr e? upon the ceiling. Will you coi one u.ay and give tue ) our opiniou i them !" 1 professed myself much flattered, n pointed to visit him in the church e following morning. lie was waili r ma at the door when I arrived, w e heavy keys in his hand. Wo pass , and he turned the key in the luck. " I always secure myself against iut rs," ho said, smiling. " People v me into the church if 1 leave the do< ifustencd ; and I do not choose to ca my art, hke a sign painter, in thepr ce of every blockhead who chooses ind and s'are at me." It was surprising in what a disngr de manner this ui&u showed his le hen he smiled. The church was decidedly a handso lilding, built in that Italian style wh iita.es the autitpie, and prefers grace i agniticence to tlie dignified suncti'y e Coihio order. A row of elegant C tliian columns supported the roof eh side of the nave ; gilding and de live cornices were lavished in every ction ; the gorgeous altar piece nlrca iiiptuu iis appointed station; iiii< 1 ;i ; to the left of the railed space where t mmunion-table was to he placed, a I scaffolding w is erected, that seem >in where I stood, almost to come ntact with the roof, and above whict iserved the yet unfinished sketch o asterly fresco. Three or four more, idy completed, were stationed at re; r iutervals, and some others wore me outlined in charcoal upon theii iuti d site. " Will you not come u;> with me ked the painter when I had express y admiration sufficiently ; "or are y raid of turning giddy !" 1 fell somewhat disinclined to imp< is trial on my nerves, but s ore disinclined to confess it ; olio wed him up from Right to tlligt e frail structure without once daring ok down. At last wo reached the summit. A id supposed there was not even ro< ougli fur the artist to assume a silti >stine, and he had to paint while lyi his back. 1 had no fancy to exle yself on this lofty couch ; so I only lift y head above the level of his tloorii )ked at the fresco, and descended iinu stely to the flight below, where 1 w? till he rejoined tae. " IIow dangerous it must be," said uddering, " to let yourself down fr< at abominable perch !" " I used to think so at first," ho ed ; "but I am now quite accustom it. Fancy," said he, approaching eh the edge of the scallblding?" fancy 1 g from this into the church below !" " Horrible !" cried I. "1 wonder how high it is from the le the pavement," continued Van K? nsingly ; "ninety feet, 1 dare say?p ri a hundred." drew back, giddy at the thought. " No man could survive such a fal id the painter, still looking over. "A ult would bo dashed to atoms oil I arLle down there." " Tray, come away," said f, hastil my head swims at the very idea." " Does it!" said he, turning suddoi on mo with the voice and eye of a fit tt ) p,..l til l-- ?-- L uvea 11 j ? uui . no erica as ne sei, o round the body in bin iron clnt>[ ool, to trust yourself here with me? bom yon have wronged, whose life 1 ive blasted !?me, whom you crossed me and in love! Down,wrtech down! I wed to have your blood, and my ti is coine!" It sickens ine even now to recall tl sperate struggle. At the first word tered, I had sprung back and seize* *am above my head : he strove to t o from it?he fontned at tbo mouth, l sins rose like knots upon his forehe ul still, though I felt my wrists strait id my fingers cruelly lacerated, stil sld on with the terrible energy of ho struggles for dear life. It laslei ng time?at least it seeired long to -and the scaffolding rocked beneath et. At length I saw his strength I g suddenly I loosed my hold, and lh y whole weight upon him. He stag] I?be shrieked?he fell. [lie I dropped upon uiv face in mute horror?an age of silence seemed to elapse, "I and tho cold dews stood upon my brow, rly Presently I heard a dull sound far below. Im, I crawled to the blink of the scaffolding jn\ ho and looked over?a shapeless mass was wj| ng lying cn the marble pavement, and all pa rry around was red with blood. ^e* I think an hour must have elapsed be- ret ed font I could summon courago to descend, cot as When at length I reached the level bo L>'c ground, 1 turned my face from what was mi I so near my feet and tottered to the door, tlii I'd With trembling hands and misty eyes, I !en unlocked it, and rushed into tho street.? th ast Once outside, 1 feli to the ground. I re- en member no more, for 1 bad faiuted. at! as' It was many months before I recovered from the brain fever, brought on by that "v 'di terrible day; indeed, 1 think I never should have lived through it, but for the 'ia 'a tender cares of my betrothed, who watch- l'i< im ed Hie day and night, till the physicians Pr< er" pronounced me out of danger. My ra- f^x me vings, they told mo, liad been fearful; 111 JP" and bad any doubts existed in tho minds dei of men, as to which of us two had boon |"ec md the guilty one, those ravings were alono ,ta on suflicicnt to establish mv innocence. A ('e ng man in a delirious fever, is pretty sure to ilii speak tho truth, lly the time 1 was able led to leave my chamber, Gertrude also lm<l grown coIJ and spiritless, and all unlike ru- her former self. Rotterdam was insup- 1S*( rill portable to me; and I found myself a uo urs hero of romance, a lion, a thing to bo rry stared after wherever I went, which only ,nr es- served to shatter my nerves more than 8U' to ever. In short, change of air and scene was reconmmendcd for us both; so we 1 b oe- thought we could do no better than mar- ral eth rv, and take our wedding tour for the sake l^11 <>f our health. And 1 assure you, reader, me 'l did us both a great doal of good. dei leb t'1* lid t ^ ItlinrHlmni at ^ \ co- ? di- A USED UP LAWYER. 8fr . , # lh< Somehow iho public put a low estimate ,l" upon the value of the declarations of some tn( e attorneys as to people's character. Wheth? j er this arises from the freedom with which . ? such declarations are made, or trom what t0 other motive, wo will not say. in; j. ^ Mr. is one ol our best lawyers, to j lie posses a good share of legal acumen pu and cunning. But like many others he up * has great aptitude '.o apeak hajshly of hu parties and witnesses opposed to hiui. And iw lie does this, too, frequently. shi ,i, On Tuesday last Mr. defended 'j a client at the l'olice Court upon a charge V ou of petit larceny. Ono of the witnesses ^ swore ho stoutly that the prosecution "a )8C sought to impeach him. The first witness s'' ,j|i called to support the impeachment made out a very strong case of credulity. Mr. , took him up on the cross examination. de to " Mr. Witness, you say that the charac- r.? ter of Dwight is bad ?"' si " 1 d?; ~t " Have vou heard people say so ?" , )m .1 i i *>? J tin 14 1 have. n'i> " When and where ?" "j . , 44 In this court room, on the fifth day of C nu til. ii J so I July, last year. " ,at d'd P0r8On Dwight!" ,e.' 44 He said ho was tho most infernal kj?. scoundrel he ever knew in his life, and that he had known many?that lie once l0 | J knew of Dwighl's being hired to swear to cn }ni a lie for a glass of whiskey toddy." jnj " What was tho character of that man "L rt5. who thus abused Dwiglil!" ied 44 Well, he claims to bo a respectable >se man, lliaugh 1 must confess, in my judga I- ment, ho is as gieat a scamp as Dwight." 44 Now, sir, tell this court and jury w ho was the person who thus libelled Dwight's be vol character ?" ou K)s 44 If you must know, I'll tell; it was you, or- sir." ye The answer operated upon the counsel k' like the stroke of a galvanic battery. Ho I/' protested it was all a lie, ami asked the 440 ny court to commit tho witness for contempt 'u< '.he of court, but further proceedings were co speedily suspended, by the annunciation Pc y; of the foreman of the jury, that "tliov found the prisoner guilty." ^ !lu' Our ltice Unrvest, is progressing rapid- ml eed |y wjljJ tbe favorable dry w mither for some je >? weeks past, and tbe crop is being gAtlier- he me ed in good condition. An average crop co! will be made notwithstanding tho-frenheU YY 1,1 which were so late as not to do mu:h tin vc damage. foi ,ne YYe have had in town rather inorc sick- be ncss than usual?and a few cases of the w? aa mxt virulent typo. The nights are cool sh b? and pleasant and we have a hope thai the cb ' a fall fevers will soon cease.?Pee dee fo ear Timet. ki . . th nod An Irishman having accidentally II I broken a pant of glass in a window, was one making tbe best of bis way out of tigbt; fa: 1 a but unfortunately for Tat, the proprietor hii mo stole a inarch on him, and having seized our bim by the collar, exclaimed, " You broke ar 'ail- my window, fellow, did you not ?" "To Ik rew be sure I did," t?id Pat; "and didn't I ,?er- you see uie running home for mone y to K pay for it f" I Vi Eeport of thn Panama Masacre. Wabuinqton, Sept. 20. i'ho report of Mr. Corwine, ttie Com* ?sioner appointed by tlie Government to estimate the circumstances connected h the massacre of American citizens at naina last April, is before the Cabinet, reral meetings have been hold in referice to it. It worries and perplexes them isidcrably, inasmuch as it recommends Id and prompt measures, and this Adniatratiou is quit) unused to any such n2- , Mr. Corwine fastens the responsibility of o massacre on the New Granadian Goviment, to make full reparation aud nicmeut for it. Ho demands iudemnito the sufferers by it?as v.ell tor the es lost and tlio injuries received us for 3 property destroyed?to the amount of If a million of dollars. lie also requites 3 New Granadian Government to make jvision for the complete protection of nerioan citizens residing in and in tuansLbrough Panama ; and in event of those mauds not being fully complied with, bo otntnends our Government to take milry possession of tlio Isthmus. No wonr 1'ierce and his Cabinet should be in a w about this. Action is no part of f-ir administrative programme. Mr. Corwine had an associate in the unniHsion, Mr. Howlin, our resident Miner at Bogota. The latter, however, took pari in the iuvei/igatioii, but left it all Mr. Corwine. I understand that he, '. 0., reeeivod the appointment of Conat Panama, vice Mr. Ward, who is noxious to the Government at Bogota . cut you yesterday a translation of the >ly of the Granadian Secretary of the no to Mr. Bowlin, from which it will seen that Government professes not to >iro to shirk the rosponsibilty, and at ? same time demands the recall of Mr. urd. CONCERN FOR 0THER3. During a heavy storm on the coast of ain, a dismasted merchantman was obved by a British frigate drifting boforo J gale. Every eye and glass was on r, and a canvas shelter on the deck, al>st level with the sea, suggested the ;:i that there might l>e life on board.? ilh all bis faults, no man is more alive humanity than the rough and hardy triner; ami so theordei instantly sounds ....t I 11 A al.;.. -~.l . 1 -. _ I . I'UW kiiv otii|/ ai?.un, auu JMV'SCIIUV DUilL ts oil', with instructions to bear down on the wreck. Away after that drifting ilk go these gallant men through tho oil of a roaring sea; they reach it, they out, and now a strange object rolls out thai canvas screen,against the lee shroud a broKcn mast. Hauled into the boat, proves to be the trunk of a man bent nds and knees together, so dried and riveled as to be hardly felt within tho ij?le clothes, and so light that a mere y lifted it on board. It is laid on tho ck in horror and pity the crew gather tin*it; it shows signs of life; they aw nearer; it moves, and then mutters mutters in a deep sepullcliral voice? here is another man." Saved himself, a first use tho saved one made, was to ;k to save another. O, learn that blesslesson. Be daily practising it. And long as in our homes, among our friends, this wrock of a world, which is drifting wn to ruin, there lies an unconverted e, there is " another man ;" let us go that man and plead for Christ; go to Christ and plead for thnt man ; the " Lord, save me, 1 perish I" changed ,o one as welcome to a Saviour's ear, .ord save them they perish !" 1 71r >///?* ?/? ~ 4%"M ' MELANCHOLLY WARNING TO SNUFF DIPPERS. Although the habit of snuff dipping has en proven by medical men to be injuris, says an eastern exchange, and in my cases fatal to the human system, t the practice seems to be followed l;y nales with an avidity that would signithat the habit is graceful, healthful and rightful* What an infatuation! To jk at the pale and swarthy faces of our mmnnity, with lips bedaubed with the rnicious compound, one might exclaim astonishment, " why will ye die."? ell do we reinembor how roey the check w bright and sparkling the eyes, and w gay was the step of an esteemed Telle of our acquaintance, who hut half a ar ago seemed (he personification of ailh and beauty, but lie* Ixneath the Id earth, solely from the u*c of snuff.? bile her soul glowed warm with animnn, and her heart beat high with honos * the future, nevor did she dream that r own hands were doing for her the >rk of death?that by a simple practice e stopped up tho avenues of life, by sgging her lungs with snuff. The unrlunate young lady referred to was town and beloved throughout this com* unity, and wo mention tho facts hoping at others may take warning. 44 rat," on arriving in America, took a ncy to the ^ ankee girls, and wrote to s wife aa fo'lows : 44 Dkar Nora : These melancholy lines o to inform you that I died yesterdny.and >pe you are enjoying the same hiding, recommend you to mrrry JomtnyOourke aud take good rare of ihe children, rom your affectionate hu*f>snd till death.'*