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] the %attcflsta; ffDgrr. ,,*2 PER ANNUM MJET IN ADVANCE A A /amilg ani) political i.'cinspaptt?fltaottb to tlis Arts, Stuarts, Tittcatott, ifbototinn, Agrirnttort, Sntrrual aaijiroutumits. foreign nub Poaitstit Aicuis, onb tljt Jilavkris. VOLUME VIM. LANCASTER C. H., SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNKSDAY MORNING, OCT., 26, 1859. . NUMBER 37. I | ' 11 ' Iflfrt ^Virtrij. The Little Pool Will Soon be Dry. O, brightly beams the summer sky, And rarely blooms the clover But the little pool will noon be dry, The summer soon be over. O, light and soft the we*t wind blows, The flower bellV gently ringing ; But blight will fall upon the rose, Where now the bee is swinging. ^ A smile i? on the silver strenm. w A ninsh is on tne nowers ; I But the cloud that wcnm n golden gleam Will waste itself in shower*. O little henrts with planes* rife, Among the wavy grasses? A deeper shnd? will fold your life Thnn o'er the meadow passes. O, maiden lips ! (), lips of hloom ! Unburdened save by singinp. Pale Grief shall leave his seal of gloom Where kisses now are clinging. L O, hope is sweet, O. voulh is near, | And love is sweeter?nearer ; O. life is. sweet, nnd life in dear, But Perth is often dearer. O, i.hield the little hearts from wrong. While childhood's laugh is ringing ; And kiss the lips that sing the song, Before thev cense their singing. O, crown with joy the hrows of youth, Before their hrows are older, O, touch with love the lips of truth Thfoio those lips nre colder. For the lit tin pool will noon be dry, The summer soon be over, Though brightly beams the summer sky And rrirelv blooms the elover. Iclrrtfii ftuvn. lililiV AS SIX. T " ex.rifiu^ story hore roUtod appear ?<1 o lofsilv in liie Kuickt-rltOvker Maya 7.1 '< , and lias not been |itil>iisbeil that ?i sr-* aware of, i> r several years. Our s. rap book furtiisboH ll o copy for its re proline lino in?w : Wei!. sTHli'jer, y<?u air chawed tin | rt ;t\ c tisiderabe had, atnl dial's a fact liar i-r catamount ?' Ill" scene was the couiit ry-stole lit the cio-hio h|>. in the town ..f II , which a!! who have honied ?>r travelled much .in Herkimer county will recoiled ; and t the polite interrogator was a lar^e, bush v t ' iloTe I. h ltd t'lCr 1 Ml .11 ill ? red tl in :tol s'tirl, vvii'-N" appearance, i)<? leas than hit. dialect, proclaimed Imn lobe from tli l/tr West. h was evening, and a group of loungers were amok'ng ami chewing l?y the open lire, whose warmth, though it was a miii summer night, was far from unpleasant. The person to whom the question wa? ,K<l(lre-?ei|, partly turned hi* head toward lite speaker, hut did not immediately reply ; and I look the opportunity of ex amining him mote cloaelv than I had done upon Ida entrance. lie was, with out exception, the ugliest, moat piliahlf a peri me it of humanity that 1 have evei seen. One of his legs had heen ainpnta ted above the knee : Ins rioln In. ml withered hit<I contracted, as if l?v h ah vere burn; ( is shoulder had a curious it u in }>; hiii) tin* cord* of It in neck *en so drawn hiuI shortened that tin- cheek acemed to rest upon it, a* on h pillow ? Ills e\ clashes were gone, slid Ills blood shot eyes wi re continually moving unea sily wiiliin their raw and inflamed IuJh JIul more painful lo llm beholder limn al thin, whs a strange limit fined expression of fear or horror, wbitli was never rib sent from tin* fare, hiuI which told, more strikingly tli m his wounds, the story o Home Hwtnl trial lo which he lisd been subjected. NVitli m 11 this,however, there was some thii g so mild Hiiil gentlemanly in hit manner that he seemed ml once to cIihI !*nge and obtain the pity and sympathy of evi rv one Ilia entrance ii to the stort apparently a total stranger, had checker] the iiveit flow of conversation, but more than one chair by the tire waa offered him, and many a glare e of conunUera lion exchanged between the rough la borer*. liar or catamount!' repeated the IIoo juer. 'I uiougiit,' antd the stranger, in tlif iit>l)ow voice of a co.infinplive, 'iIihi 1 ahould fi'nl noine un?* in here to-nighi who would recollect me. I recognise many of your face*. Ami yet,' lie ad ded, eadly, 'my own mother did no! know me.' There whk a quick movement in :lie group nI>0111 him ut these word*, and eve rv ete mm* henl once more upon him.? lint no one iqmke. 'Deacon IVIton.' resumed I he ugly mar 'f/Mf eon lid! and 1 u?ed 10 go to echoo! together down at the creek.' 'Lord help t?a,' said the good old dea eon, Mo ihiuk </ U?e change* I VVell,'h? added resignedly, 'il'e whet we must all Come to' {1 wait jd.*in that the elder wuh Miri| puwiicii. "I never thought till lately,' punned the cripple, Hint I %i;ould l?e obliged U tell my name to in) old companion* and friend*, tank *t mf again,' 'No, no,' n.uttered the man in the rail Jurl audibly ; *ono look a day at thai fallow m aa much aa I can comfortably tagger under.' dui mo store keeper, taking a step or two forward, gazed into the ogly man's face lor h moment with an eager air, and said : 'Neighbors, it's Hen Larkins !' 'Hen Larkins I* said (lie deacon, 'why we heard yon wore dead.* 'You Mill hear that again soon,' said ; the new coiner, 'and il will be a true Rio- j j ry them' There was an awkward pause, for the o'd friends of the poor man, with all their cur'osily.had a native delicacy which | restrained their questions. Hut the wes < tern man, who now saw him for the first time, was wholly free from any such eiti I harrassinent. 'Stranger,* said he, 'I ain't much given I to pumping a man against his will, but I ! sltotil I like to know bow you con e so, i just to keep out 01 such a scrape myself.' '1 came in here this evening,' said tlie 1 utilv man. 'on purpose to meet as many ; of my old acquaintances as I could, and tell my story. I knew 1 should have to ! tell it some time or o'.licr, and f want to have it over, to leel that inv misfortune is < known, am! that I am free from question.' He shitted his ?eat, as if to obtain an j easier position, and continued : ' Chose of j you who saw me a couple of years since | will recollect that I was then, as I hud been for many years previously, tt warm ! and active pohiiciun. Now that I have i coma home to die among \uu. .1 seems t f { little moment who conies out the winner j in these doubtful races; but then it w as (i different thing jo me, and I believe I was never wanting in any service whhli i my party asked of tne, from the time of i tlm election of the good old lien. 11 > rri j son, who is, I trust, in uhettei place than j the 'White Ilou-e* now.' | 'Allien !' said the red.shirled man, sol I einnlv. 'When I emigrated to Ohio, two years I since,' ?ontnme I Larkins, 'I earned inv I enthusiasm v\ 1111 me, and became pretty l well known ir, the section of country a I b<?ut lite village of W , where I s?M l lied. Vott must retneiul er, at least all | of yoti who read the newspapers, that | < ur ins* gubernatorial election was an tinu*uall\ exciting one. I belonged to one of tlie Stale general committee*, and, as J the returns on election day came in l>\ ! express, w e began to grow lairly w ild.? We had beforehand made all the neees . sar\ arrangements to have the earliest i j authentic news of the rosiiil pos'ed oil to , t'ie New York papers, and I had agreed to -te that h certain budget of returns which we expected to receive during the evening should he sent on to the town of II , some thirty miles disi ml. I>\ the latlwav, as KnOii as it airived, and lta>l I'liarit'r^il an engine which w as to he in j te.adiuess at eleven o'clock ilial night. | 'Well, 111*5 budget came promptly at j ?1. * t'tuo, ami the news was jnito as faj vorabie as we ?l?-sir?*?l, ami much more so 111a11 we expected. I suppose it was this i fact that so suddenly deteimined me to CH*ry the intnligence on myself. At any > iate, I hastily resolved to go on the h? i comotive, and, seizing the return*, 1 tan i down to the depot, where the engine was | tired tip and whistling its readiness for a i | start. It was Ion the work of a moment 1 ; to persuade the engineer to take me with . him, for the Uiemati who was to accotti ' pnnv him was nowhere to he found, am) the engineer had resolved to run overlhe track alone. I volunteeied at once to as . ' sist him as well es I could, and immedh r ately mounted the engine. 'It was a (lark and wild, though a warm night, and everything gave indication of an approaching storm. Fearfully black i j clouds were rolling up in the nkt, and, t what was rather a singular phenomenon at that season of the year, the lightning was flashing vividly,and the thunder was i muttering as grandly hs in a summer l shower. l?ut the excitement of success haiiislud every sensation of feai from my I { mind ; we both knew that we had the i | ngni ol way, mid, so lar ms 11itni:tit ?i? nuiiv ?in<l foresight c u d protect us ihete i whs no dimmer in running hi any rate ol i" speed hi winch steam couh! drive us.? i i Careful men It nil during the day heen | sent for ward to see that each switch was i i in its place; the night train from il \ whs to w ail h>r our arrival ; the road w as ! reasonably straight ; and, except the or dinary dangers from defective rails or ax | le trees, we had nothing to apprehend. I J 'It was thirty mile-, as | o.ud to It . i 1 "What time can von make it in ?' said I I to the engineer, as 1 got upon the pial form with him. 'I once ran over the road | in three quarters of an hour with an engine,' replied he. 'Make it a half hour I this lime,' cried I, 'ami I will give vou I twenty dollars. Every minute is wor'lt a i fortune.' I must have heen insane. The [ tiush of victory, af'er so many weeks of . enthusiastic struggle, had almost if n??t quite, turned my hrain. Just at this mo uieiil the engineer discovered that the > light in front of the engine was burning dimly, and threatening to expire. With i an anathema upon the negligent fireman, he leaped down <0 examine it. The l^mp had l)Ot hecii tilled. 'For (rod's sake,' ahrieked I, when I learned tlim fiiCl, i atop fur that tnfli* ; I run travel in the I dark if youicati. You are not afrn'd ?' I continued, tauntingly, us the engineer mill hesitated. 'I can ride to the devil an ? coolly hs you ran,' lie rejoined cheerily, I and resuming his post, started the ma > chine. 'Ah we emerges! from tliestation house, I I remember thinking 1 had i ever teei/a i Marker night The first moUoti of the 1 engine had extingu shed our light ; not a f|ar *m tn he reen in the heaven*, and | (lie few lighted window* which dotted I the landscape here and there only added 1 to the general gloom of the scene. Flush I t<J end wild es I ?es, ( Mpermoood e m llirill of horror as the engine madly dash e<l into the darkness. f straitened n.y tyes until tliey ached ; I held inv breath and contracted my muscles, as if falling, so fearfully rapid seemed the rale at which we were living. * 11 viI a new and pleasanter sensation noon took the place of this terror. None | i hut those who have actually experienced I it can imagine the maddening delight j ' which excessively rapid motion produces. We were under lull head*way, and with ; no load to retard our speed. Now and | then a lighted window hv the side ot the I track flew past us like a meteor ; while, farther oil m the irlomn ! u.iliiu," i. - e>-? " J woiiM sometimes seem madly striving to emulate our pace?soon distanced, however, aiul soon lost. In less lime than 1 have been talking, we bail arrived at a : little village, where the street lamps weie , burning, and which 1 knew w as just ten miles (torn \V . I stooped down and j examined my watch by the light of the i engine lire. \\ e had travelled the first I ten miles in less than ten minutes. 'Fas | ter !' 1 shouted madlv to the engineer, as 1 crammed another pine stick under the boi'er Hut it v\as hardly possible to ae l celeralo our speed. The wheels actually j leaped along the rails. The few drops of rain wl .ch occasionally fell, struck against my face like lino shot. The s'earo-whistle kept up an endless shriek, as it the engine were some monstrous gohliii, tortured hex ond < luluraiicC hv an mhiitnan tieinl, while the deep base ol the increasing thunder ming e l with the wil l rattle ol our wheels, anil formed a chorus which the Furies might have en vied. As my oais were gradually stunned hv tl I'M' complicated noises, and rnv eves wearied hv their unnatural exertion, I ! fancied that I heard oilier imi?es and saw j other sil hts, whirl, coul.1 have been otilv the product of a bewildered hi.ain. As weih.sbed into some gloomy goige, I , seeioeo to hear angry voices wariniig and ti; braiding n>i ; as w?- !l -a over some lof \ embankment, 1 shw dark spirits in the a'r, \\ ho a aved iii.' on with wild gestuie, ?ir struck at me with airv liUdrii, Tin* l?t?litbecame more vivid and lYci qttenl. Now tl??\ showed us the threat ' ening crags that overhung out patli, and i now tliev lighted up a ration torrent far j hernialh us. My coinpanion, however, was as calm ami composed as though his cradle h i 1 I ecu rocketl by tempests. 'J'lie : tl i>lo s I>y which I ocvisi. nall v r.night a glimpse i t him gave, it s true, iiu unnxt ural i>hastli|ieHs to his fare, hut liis man Her was as cool and Collected as 1 had al 1 wn\s known it I o..uld feel him man a git.g tlie engine as quietly and carefully as d it was a summer's day, and lie had the lives of a hundred passengers to an1 sWer f->r, hesiile his own1 j 'A few minutes? ten or twelve, perhaps 1 ?had elapsed since I looked at tuy watch, and I had begun to think that our journey's end w as near. We were pass tug. as near as 1 could judgu by the [ sound nin! the wind, over a level, open tract ot country, when I forced 1 felt a : ii)i>inen'iir> jar ; so slight, however, and , unimportant, that it would have passed from my recollection at once, had it, not | heeil tor what followed. Just at that moment, a longer and brighter flash of lightiiir??? than I had before seen, alien de l, not followed, l>\ an awful crash of thunder, lit lip again the surrounding scenery. Hilt high above ihe deafening I peal, above the lesser thunder of the I wheels, above I he raving of I he wind. I heard a shriek, a shout of horror, wild, so awful, so hke the utterance of a lost soul, that it vexes mv dreams to this hour. It was j sound which no physical ! pain could have elicited from a human being, which noihiug hut supernatural fear could hate produced, and which" no one tvlio or.ee heard it could ever banish Iroifl Ins recollection. | "Involuntarilt, ! fell for mv companion lie was gone ! I groped hastily about the confined space in which we had been standing and at once realized the awful nature ni 111\ position. I * ih a'oii?, ii|ii111 an engine which was tearing madly lor umiiI, al the rale of sixty or seventy miles an lionr, rapidly approaching mv ilcMinalion, alioiit to dash headlong, at full speed, into the midst of an eager aiul excited crowd, and with no more know I ' edge of ilie management or itiiverninriit j of the cra/.v tiling llian an inlanl. Kor an instant I was thoroughly paraltzed i>> fear. Cold dro| is of preparation stood upon my brow, and ! fairly rcrminH ill impotent agony. Hut in n moment more 1 recovered myself ! had some it distinct notion tliat llie speed of an engine was accelerated or checked by operating tlie levers which stood by my Mile, and forthwith commenced a series of experiment? with them. Hut toy u risk. I fulness or agitation prevented tny employing tlie pro per menus, and I fancied I had only in creased the speed. Another resource flashed upon me. I ought pull out the h a/.ing Mood and coals, and teduce the lire. It was a mad idea, for my ungloved hinds were my only tools for the enter prise ; lull I chuckled wildly to tip self as I thought how leasdde it was. and how sure of success, Kigerly I strnipe-l down mhI pulled a llaining miik from beneath the 1 toiler, Tlie seething pilcli scalded my hands, and the lite end ers 'mm them c r 11 h 11 y ; hut I hardly felt the |>am an 1 hurled it frantically into the dark' nw?. 'Hut I diil not stoop again. For, as I turned to continue my vain labors, another flash, one of those litie?;r:nf(. *nrt, dancing Hashes, which Msetn to tarry ai if delighting to gaze upon the terror ihev cause, once more lit up the scene. I trust that death will efface its horror from my mind. 1 know thai I can never forget it on this side of the grsv*. The shriek o| my companion, which was still ringing in my ears, no longer surprised. * Ro longer wondered at his mad leap from the engine. It was the excess of my tetror alone which prevented my following his exatm pie. 1 no longer cared for the murderous speed of the locomotive; I no longer thought of my own danger. All misgiv-' ings, all fears for myself, were swallowed up and merged in vast, shuddering, indescribable horror. For there, just before me upon the boiler, with its lips parted into a fiendish grin, with its eyes wide open, and staring upon me, and the glare ' imparting a life-like glow to its story fea......... I . I :- l / - - " i win-*, nine, wulllll reHCII <?r my pHISieU ' hand, even as I shrunk back in craven fear to the farthest limits of my moving prison sal a pale, Cory, hideous, and mangled Hunum I hud ! on smile, gentlemen,' continued the I ugly man, with a melancholy air, 'and it seems to ine that if I should hear the sto ry told litv another, as you are now do ing, in a quiet mom, with a firm floor , beneath m\ feet, a cheerful lire before ine ' ami friends around, I sliouhl do the same thing; but, beiiev?? me.' dropping h > voire so low ti at 1 could hardly hear him, 'it is a difierent tldug in a wjiq night alone, an ) with a sudden and awful death impending over you.' 'Keep moving, stranger,' said the man in the led shirt, cracking a hickory nut, 'it's as good as a sermon. Pass on to the second head.' "It could, of conise.' pursued the uglv man, without heeding the untimely jesi, "be but a few minutes, or perhaps seconds before this terrible drama must conclude; but no prisoner ever longed for freedom as I di l for the filial crash, which I knew would end mv life and t or men t t get her. I made no farther efforts to stop the loco , motive. I was hardly aware that it was sliil tearing madly on, as though flight died, like myself at the ghastlv burden. 'I he lightning still flashed at intervals, and illuminated theelavey f tee ; but 1 did not need its gleams to seo the horiid tiling, f.r through the pitchy darkties* ami the blinding rain it glared upon ue as I had beheld it at first. Nor do I consider I ills i:ii i_ni.allot,. 1 think ttiat t<*rr'>r had so sharpened inv vision that, thnigh nil else was wrapped in impenetrable gloom, I could see its glassy eye ball*, ijs pallid cheeks and its bloodv, grinning month.' I have since learned ? I do not Monk that I knew it Ml the time?that all this while, the lite wood in the lender behind too was blazing furiously. It l/.d caught eitliei bv a sp irk from tbe engine or, which is niort probable, from the burning stick wbieli I bad so hastily tossed nwav, Hut, as I said, I do not know that I war | aware of it; if I had been, it could not have ! added another pang of terr- r to mv heart; and I only mention it now as an inciden lal element in the horror of mv situation, and also from the fact that the unusual light alarmed the watchers at the station ami putting them upon their guard, prevented any destruction of life on mv arri val. 'I can never bring myself to believe that ' so short a tune elap-ed, as I know must have passed, before tbis awful vision Ceas 1 ed. It seems to me now. and always when I recall that dreadful night, as though I must have spent hours braced hack against the tender, not daring to lake my e\cs from the spectral face. paralt zed and cra/.v with fright, mv hair like reeds, and the cold sweat bursting from every |?ore During till tins t.tne^l know that I never regarded the incident as any j other that: supernatural. If it had oc curred to me tloil it was nothing hut what it seemed, a dead head, perhaps, possibly, 1 might have rallied. Hut 'here was something so hellish in that stony gaze, alone visible though the murky night, that earth and earthlv accidents were alike forgotten by o.e Heavens! thought I, is this to last forever I Am I i dead, and are these die torments of the I damned ! Will this torture never have an end ? The end was oven then at hand. 1 shot jiast brilliantly lighted streets, whose brightness made the corpse glare still more hideously upon me. I heard shout* of fear and warning, hut thev coit'd not distract m\ attention. I caucdit i?lnn?,?s of lii* Station of group* of agonized ami horror stricken face*; wh?t w.-re I hey io the distorted feature* of the Head before ! iii?* t A crash, n feeling of dealli like I sickness, ami when I awoke, my mid ' night rule had been the rounds of all the newspapers, ami been forgotten. The ugly man arose ami adjusted his ' crutch, as if to leave. 'Pray, Sir,' said a little, silent man from the corner, in an excited manner, and speaking for the first time, 'was that the engineer's head V Oh ! no,' answeered the narrator, with an air of relief, as though he was glad his lale was ended. '1 learned, when I got well enough to talk and a>k questions, that the engineer crawled into the town about dawn of (ho following day, weary torn, and bleeding, but without any per tnaiienl injuries. The lieao belonged In a poor maniac, who had ultrn attempted the strangest forms of suicide, and thai evening, escaping from his confinement had lowered himself down into a callh ditch, keeping his head some six inch* above surface of the road. The cow catch er, as lie probabtV intended it should do Iih<] cut hi* head cleanly niul ainoolhlj off. an<l had thrown it no l"gh that I lodged and aluok, where I furl naw it.? Ilia body wan afterward fo'ind unmangled i! in the ditch )>eneath. And that, neigh bora, ia the wav I came to be the wrecl ? ; I yon ae? mc. 'Thai'a a right rnnrt*yarn, now, itran . ger. said the man ia the ahirt, 'and I sup f poee likely enough to happen oo some o them 'llio rails; but 011 llie Little Uiver Itoad?1 stop down to Litlle-liiver when I'm to lioine?they Uon't allow no dead heads.' 1 Death of English Kings William the Conqueror died from eRor. | I mous fat, strong drink, and the violence ! of his passions. ? William llufus died the death of tl.e poor stags that he hunted. Henry the First died of gluttony, llenry the Second died of a broken | heait, occasioned bv the bad eondu.-t of his children. Richard (JtMir de Lion died like the an imal from which his heart was named, hv an arrow from an archer. Jolin died, nobody knows how, but it | | is said of chagrin, which, we suppose, is | another name for a dose of poison. Henry the Third is said to have d:ed a I natural death. Edward the First is likewise said to 1 have died of a 'natural sickness,' a sieki ness which it would puz/.ie all the col-ego of physicians to denominate. Kdward the Second was most barbarously and indescentiy murdered by ruili ans emrloyed by bis own mother and her paramour. | Edward the Third died of dotage, and Richard the Second of starvation, the verv reverse of (ieorge the Fourth. Henry the Fourth is said to have died ' of'fits caused bv uneasiness,' and uneasi ness in palaces in those times was :i very ' common complaint. i II...,*.. ,t... I.MM. ; ; i i > ' ...... j ?... .-ii ii is aiiiu III nave UIU(I Ol I a "painful ntlVction, prematurely !' I his is h courtly phrase for getting riil of a King. Henry the Sixth died in prison, by means known only to his jailor, anil known now nnlv to heaven. Edward tin* Fifth was strangled in tiie tower by his uncle, Ivichar l the Third. Itu-hard the Third was killed in battle. Henry the Seventh wasted atav as a miser ought to do, and Ihnry the Eighth died ol carbuncles, fat and fury, while Edeard the Six'li died of a decline. | Queen Mary is said to have died <>f 'a i broken heart,' whereas she died of a sur. I feit, from eating too much of black pud* ! dings. Old Qupen Itess is said to have died of melancholy, from having sacrificed Essex to his enemies. James the First died of drinking, and of the ntl-'Cts of a nameless vice. Charles the First died on the scaffold. , ai d Charles the Second died suddenly, it ; is said, boil) a lit of apoplexy. William the Third tiled from consunip , lire habits of body, and from the stum tiling of his louse. ; i Queen Ann died from her attachment I to "strong water,' or, in other words, from j drunkenness, which the physicians polite* I iy called the dropsy. George the First died of drunkenness, ( which Ins physicians politely called an apoplectic lit. George the Second died of a rupture of : I the heart, which the periodicals of that day termed a visilated ol God. It is the only instance in which God ever touched I his heart. i i George the Third as he had lived ? a j madman. Throughout life, he was at i j least a consistent monarch. George the Fourth died ofgluttory and i i di iinkeiiueas. Willi am the Fourth died amidst the sympathies ol his subjects. Western Hog and Corn Markets. Tiik OrEsist; IIaiks,?The Cincinnati l'rice Current ot liie 12th instant has the i following concerning the Western hog market, and the opening prices of new ! corn : In the early part of the week about ! 2,500 liead o^ h?'g* sold at $t> net, to be tleliveied the lirst ten days ?>f November ! A portion of thetit were taken to till eon i tracts. The last day or two the ottering! at tins rate were mute larce. and l.OOf head, to average 225 lbs. and lo he <le ! livered between the lOili and 15th No vember, were on lli?> market at ?0, with i ! out finding a purchaser. 1,500 head we understan I, were contracted to be de i livered before llie 20(h of November al 95.15 ; but tor al! November $5 50 is tb< outside rale otlered. i \ In Kentucky, hoga are ft>rward ant; fat, and it is probable they will be in ear ! lier from that Slate than is expected.? i The feeling on the part of regular dealeri is (juitu .subdued, Slid none of thai reck i ( less speculative spirit, so pievalenl at tin| lime last season, is observable ; and it ii quite probable that the opening price! , will he the highest paid during the sea son. I'ackers will undoubtedly prolit bj llie experience of last year, and tlierr must be the slrongent kit d of induce > metils. we think, to tempt thetu to p.\t I even moderately high prices. , During the past week there has beet quite a large business do'.ie in the way o , , contracts 'or new corn, and the sale! reached 50,000 bushels, beginning at 6.' I rents and closing dull at 50 cents. In I eluding in those sales was one lot of 25, I 000 bushels, to be delivered in all tlii , month at 05 cents. This was boot/lit ii ? _ ry"- " s Indiana, 1'- ?si of Indianapolis, hi '20 cent? > h:i*1 cost but 13 cents to duiiver it b?r? ho tliMt the operation paid the seller , handsomely?the great anxiety to sel r corn, and at the tame time to buy hog t to feed it to, are very suggealive facts f > thi?ae who deal in pork. I Our advice from Kentucky, with hard ly an exception, report a good corn crof i and a prospective large hog crop. Be* cattle are repiesented Abundant through out the entire West, and in good condi ' lion. But the wheat crop is, without a f exception, reported below no average. ' hu\h[\ Uleaiiutg, j Knowing and Believing "We have known ?nd believed the love | lbnt God bHili 10 u-."?1 Jobu iv. 16. Fiibi, 1 kIihII look upon my text as being an abstract of Christian experience. ' oeconuiy, 1 shall view it as tho summary ul Christian testimony ; and after that I shall regard it aa tho grouudwork of | Christian encouragement. limes there are of thick darkness,when | neither sun nor moon appears for many j days; when the tempest rages exceedingly, and two seas meet 111 diead collision, i'hcie ate seasons w hen the Christian, dismasted and dismantled, drifts before the j stoiiii a miserable hulk, unable to grasp j the rudder or to man the yards. All J 8<rei.glh and hope are gouo. He looks' upward, but he sees no helper ; down- I | w aid, and ho beholds nothing but the i I uttermost depths o! despair ; around him | [ there is naiiglil but terror, and all about ; ' him everything frownelh dismay. At I j such a time, noble is the Christian who [ I can say, 'Now it may be I do not know ( 1 the love that God hath to me, but 1 be I Here it. Now I believe it, saith lie; 'yes, j , roll on, ve waves ; tell me that ye shall j i engulf me, hut I believe not you. He j | who hath piomised to preserve me, him 1 I believe, and on his love will I rely, even | though now 1 see iio prooi oi' it. Now, i . poor vessel, drift before 'ho storm; and , I you, yo rocks, roar yonder with your i 1 sounding breakers; but I fear not you, j for 1 be!ieec the love of God toward me. j I cannot be wrecked completely. Driven ) ; before the storm 1 may be ; half a wreck and tempest tossed 1 am, but wholly lost I never can be ; and now this day, in the t teeth of evidence, in opposition to every ' j thing which goes against it, now I believe the love which God hath for me' I '1 lie first, position, that cf knowing < love, is the sweetest, hut that of 1 believing Hod's love is the grandest. To 1 j feel Hod's Icve is precious, but to believe it when you do not lev! it is the noblest. ] lb* may i>e but a little Christian who I knows Hod's love, but be is a great Cbris- I i lian who believes it, when the risible eonI tindicts it, and the invisible withholds its ; witness. No one so grand as that prophi et who sees the olive wither, the fig-tree ! blasted, the vines devoured by the cater J J pillar, the stall emptied and the flocks destroyed ; who tees famine staring him in the face, and ret rejoices in the Lord.? , O, that is honoring God. Ye that believe him in the sunshine, ye ofl'.*r him pence ; 1 bat re that believe him in the storm, re par him pounds. No revenue so rich as that which comes from the fat yet seemj ingly barren land of affliction ; God gets no honor greater than that which he re ceives from the trustful faith of a cast 1 down but not destroyed believer, lilessed i? be who is perplexed but not in despair, persecuted but not forsaken ; who is poor, yet, by bis faith, rnaketh many rich; who liatli nothing, yet possessetb all things; who cries, 'I ean do nothing,1 , and vet can add, 4I can do all tilings i through Ulin&t that strengthened) nte.' I And now do not these two stales make up a summary of Christian experience '(? We know and believe the love that God hath to lis.'?Spurt/roil. From tlie South Western Baptist. 'The Glory that shall be Revealed1 Tell me not of the glories of this world j ?of the icightv deed of the past?of the developments of the present? of the pro r mises of the future : they are all fading? tiie deep silence of the tomb shall cover them?the crumbling band of lime shall wipe them forever out. Though I carve iiiv name in the solid rock ? thouoh it ?>? , # # " laid Hwitv in the archieve* of my country, or embalmed in a nation's memorv-alas ! ( a few more rolling years ami 'lis gone ! ^ No, no ; 'tis a sickening theme?an idea ephemeral ? I've seen tlie end of it. Ah! little do we think that every human life is hilt a path unto a grave. But 'lis ; even so : "Man goes to his long home, ] and the mourners go about the streets." t Ah, no, no, no ! tell tne not of the glories , I of litis world ! Vet there are glories of j which you may speak to me , glories in j reserve?glories unfading?glories intnortal?glories eternal ! These? these may ' he your theme?of these you may discourse ; and I will listen, for there, there beyond that deep blue cloud, high up . among the stars, in realms of light, and bliss and joy ? inconceivably sweet in all ^ the lines of a spotless Heaven, arid firmly fixed by promise immutable?even there, . are these glories. And these?ah, how , doth the lowlv spirit leap with joy at trie reinemberanee ??these are unfading? , these are eternal. Then tell me of glories, but let them l?e of Heaven ; for these j only shall live and brighten when time f witli all its glittering paraphernalia shall . have passed away and l*en forgotten. . j "Eaknkst." _ | Claiborne, July, 1859. a Backbiting.? Never say of one who n is absent what you would he atraid 01 ?, ashamed to say if lie was present. 'Ht *, to whom you delight to spenk evil,' sayi s a wise moralist, 'may hear of it and he II come your enemy, or if he do* not, ynt s will have to reproach yourself with tin r meamie?x of attacking one who had m opportunity of defending himself. Nev - er listen to those who deal in scandal ; In ?, w'no scandals one to you, will slander yoi if of another.' 'Tale hearers make talc i* hearers ; and hence Dr. South said, 'tin i* tale hearer and tale hearer should be hang d ed together, the one by the tongue, tb< * other by tbe wsr.1 111 ' - .- L-UJ1 -i.-JJP. ^ntaorim A Lawyer 8tamped. From Tennessee b legal gentleman writes as follows: On one of the Eastern Circuits our Judge was well versed in the law, upright and liked a joke. An* important will case, involving some fifteen thousand dol' lars, was before the court for trial. Able counsel were trying to brake the will, on the ground that undue coersion was used by the testator's wife over him, he by his will manumitting several slaves, that the heirs held against his own wish. All went on smoothly for a time, wben Sam Roberts attorney for the plaintiffs, asked witness if he had heard the deceased say anything about making a will f ' Y es.' Well, what did you hear, Mr. Jack* son ?' 'I heard him say he wanted to set his negroes free, and ' You may stand aside,' interrupted Sam. The witness stood bewildered ; the bar was convulsed with laughter; witness glanced up and down uneasily, till at length his Honor summoned euough of gravity to tell the witness that bis evidence was not as Mr. Robert wanted, and that lie might stand aside. 1 >uring the progress of the ssroe trial, Sara was caught again, lie was attempting to show by a witness that the deeased did not want to make a will. 'Mr. Wilson,' said Sam, 'did you over hear Mr. Uorton say anything about a will ?' Yes, sir.' Well, what was it Wilson !' lie said be did not want to make a will.* 'l>id be give any reasons ?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Well, what were they ? Give us his <>wn words.' 'Well, 1 "will. Ho said he did uot want that rascal of a lawyer, Roberts, coming 1 over llierp w illi n *nu!u of mw.Lc - __ - VXIV v. OWVUIJ fcU ? way his money!' Poor Sain was dumfounded , the bar i fairly roared, wlien the Judge, either from a spirit of fun, or because lie did not bear, requested the witness to repeat. The merriment became general. It is neediest to add that the will was sustained. Had em at Last. A young man from the rural districts 1 went to the Post oilice the other day, with a Pank note for a dollars worth of 1 stamps, lie was told that paper money 1 was not received, lie went for Spanish ' quarters. We don't receive them tow,' said the ' attendant, 'for more than twenty cents 1 apiece.' 'J he countryman thought Uncle Sam mighty particular ; so he went away aud . obtained a dollar's worth of coppers.? Now, said he on returning, to the office and laying down the pile at the window of the delivery, 'I guess I can suit ye.' The man inside looked at the display I of the copper and coolly replied : 'We never take mora than ihro? nant> in coppers at any one time, it is not a legal tender above that num.' The countryman looked at the composed official for the space of a minute witb! out stirring, then belched out. Look here, you: ain't you almighty kind of particular, for a fellows backed I up in such a jail as this ere ! You don't take onlv three cents of copper at a time, hey ? Well then, s'pose you give me three cents worth of stamps any ho*.' The oflicial very politely cut hiin off a a single stamp, and passed it out for which tiie countryman laid down three cents, ile was about to pass away, when the latter cried out : 'Look here, you ! that ere's one time. Now s'pose you gin me three cents worth i on them. Uncle Sam's clerk was not slow in discovering that he had caught a tartar.? lie turned lack to the window and ask| ed : 'How many coppers have you got V . W..U .1 * .. en, unij nuuui ninety Keren oi em; I had h hundred when I begun.' 'Pass them in,' was the gruff reply. 'Pass out your stamps fust, and then I i will, hut 1 reckon you don't ketch me again, any how.' The stamps sere passed out and the coppers handed over, when the countryman went off saying : 'I s'pose because a feller hold* office under I'ncle Sam, he thinks he's smarter'n all creation; but 1 guesa they larnt something that time.?Lomll Neiot. Tiik Atrora Horealis Explained.-? A scientific gentleman thus gives the origin of this celestial visitor : When the melofygistic tempereture of the horizon is such as to caloricise the inipurienl identation of the hemispheric analogy, the cohesion of the borax curbislua becomes charged with iufiniteHsimals, which are . thereby deprived of their fissural disqutsi nun*. mm eneciea, a rapid change it ^ produced in ihc thorambumptere>f the gyasticutm palerium, which cau*e* a con* t valeular in t)ie hexagonal antipathies of the terrestrium in acqua vernali. The } clouda then become a inaaa of deodnrum* iaed specula) of certnocolar light, which ' can on1)' be seen when it it visible. g | The elephant is not the greatest beaat 9 1 in the world, He abhora tobacco. i A truly good memory ia oclv focgtrt/ol of \vfiTtm. t4 f **