Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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.v. ... ;.:<+ - -Prf.-v. . ' , ?. % .*' r'*'& \ ''*&?+ & IV ???i??? ?? i ??? mmm?mmmmmmmmm?mmmmmmm?m?mmmmmmmmmmm % > = == ^ -? ? ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ? | samx^melton |* p tors. An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Jnterests of the South. jlewism.oeist,pubiuher. I 'J '- % VOL. 2. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1856. NO. 8. -j - ______^ . I I | ~ .'J"?*& ,? (Kjuoia a? fletrg. I'M GROWING OLD. BY JOHN 0. 8AXE. My days pass pleasantly away; My nights are blessed with sweetest sleep; I feel no symptoms of decay ; I have no cause to mourn or weep; My foes are impotent and shy, My friends are neither false nor cold; And yet of late, I often sigh? I'm growing old. My growing talk of olden times, My growing thirst for early news, My growing apathy to rhymes, My growing love of easy shoes, My growing hate of crowds and noise, My growing fear of taking cold, > All tell me in the plainest voice. Tm growing old! t> : ctntr i in ^rvwiug IUUUVI ui luj I'm growing dimmer in the eyes, I'm growing fainter in my laugh, I'm growing deeper in my sighs, , I'm growing careless in my dress, I'm growing frugal of my gold, I'm growing wise, I'm growing?yes? I'm growing old! I see it in my changing taste, I see it in my changing hair, I see it in my growing waist, I see it in my growing heir; A thousand hints proclaim the truth, As plain as truth was over told, That even in my vaunted youth, I'm growing old! Ah, me! my very laurels breathe The tale in my reluctant cars; And every boon th ehours bequeath Bat makes me debtor to the years ! E'en Flattery's honeyed words declare The secret she would fain withhold, And tells me in 'How vouncr von are!' I'm growing old! Thanks for the years, whose rapid flight My sombre muse too sadly sings; Thanks for the gleams of golden light That tint the darkness of their wings ! The light that beams from out the sky, Those heavenly mansions to unfold, Where all are blest, and none may sigh, ^ 'I'm growing old !' \ J tf; 3Wfife. THE REGULATORS DAUGHTER. CHAPTER I. V A streamlet, with bright yellow sand, flecked by red and bluish pebbles, in its bed ?with drooping tufts of grass that dipped their blades within its waters?with here and there a bunch of willows, waving and bowing to corresponding clusters opposite? ran sparkling aloDg the outskirts of a heavy wood. A few acres of green prairie sloped gracefully from the forest to its grassy edge; and, just within the shelter of the aged oaks and hickories, was built a long, irregular house. About two miles farther down the stream, seated like this within the shelter of the wood, was another fafm, whose serried fen^ ces covered almost an equal portion of the W rich soil. No other habitation was in sight; though a half-marked road, which wound along the outskirts of the wood, evinced that many others had been attracted by the fertile soil and heavy timber. Along this road, upon a pleasant summer morning in 1820, a young man, dressed in the frontier costume, and bearing a light rifle on his shoulder, walked toward the place first described, with that buoyant step and . open carriage which distinguished in those | days, the dwellers on the prairie. A wellcut mouth, and thin, expanded nostrils, with a deep-blue eye, barely redeemed his aspect from the charge of effeminacy, which might otherwise have attached to the light brow, delicate cheek, and rounded chin, that added so much to the beauty, but so little to the strength, of its expression. Near the point where the road crossed the little stream stood a thicket of plum andthorn| bushes, and at the edge of this two or three rails had been placed across the deeper curf fnr tVlO nnnnanianna nf fnni- nn.MnnnK ' M AVUVf uuv vyuitmtuvg VI W As Thornton diverged from the road to reach this, a young girl with fair hair, a bright blue eye, and an active step, glided away from the little path, and hastily concealed herself among the low trees, evidently to avoid the pedestrian. Her attempt, so far, was successful, for he passed on until he had nearly placed his foot upon the bridge, (so called,) when he was startled by that peculiar snort, which a full-grown deer sends forth, on suddenly catching the scent of his human enemy. The animal sprang from a little corpse but a few yards beyond the rivulet, and, cross** ing that at a bound, dashed in among the hazel and alder bushes which skirted the little grove. Thornton drew his gun hastily to his shoulder, and, as the buck rose from the ground, fired with an aim which but seldom failed. The deer made two or three bounds, and then his crashing through rthe bushes ceased, and his race seemed to be run. The hunter drew his knife from its belt, and pushed his way through the brush toward the spot where he had last heard the rustling of the bushes; but, as he came within the open space beneath the trees, his limbs were paralyzed and his blood frozen by the scene before him. The young girl, whom we saw avoiding him, stood, ghastly with horror, convulsively grasping with one hand a bush too small to protect her, and with the other frantically though mutely, beckoning the frightful brute away. Directly before her, with his feet drawn under him, as if preparing for the deadly rush, stood the fierce animal by his wound, andreadv to wreak his " " " VV V" the first human form in his path. His head was drawn down between his fore-feet, his long, sharp horns projecting far before him; his bloodshot and fiery eyes, strained upwaid toward his victim, shone with the wiidest glare, while every hair upon his body was m raised and bristling with his savage fury.? One plunge, and Ellen Lowden's buoyant f life must end. F Thornton's gun was empty; but, far worse than this, his presence of mind was gone, and he stood as if transfixed. His own life I he valued less than one hair of that fair head and no man possessed more steady courage; but his heart stood still, and his hand was idle, while the deadly monster slowly gath ered himself for the charge. Even those appealing eyes, which almost started froir their sockets, and those blanched and quir ering lips, which in vain essayed to call or him for help, could not break the spell upor his limbs. The brute drew himself back almost upor his bunches for the plunge?another momeni and his frightful antlers would have pierced the helpless form before him. The crack ol a rifle range sharp and clear upon the morning air?the deer sprang with a spasm from the ground, and fell at Ellen's feet, shol through the very centre of the brain. The reaction was tod great; Ellen was a bout to fall on the ground, when a tall, ath letic young man sprang from whence the op /?AmA nnof'nnf V* 10 wfl/ pUibUUU tSJUUb liuu V/UUiCj auuy vaouug UtO 1111\ aside, grasped the sinking girl and drew hei tenderly to his arms. Thornton, atlastfreec from the spell of horror, hastily advanced but he received only a cold glance from El leu's soon-averted eye; and, as her deliver er seated her reluctantly upon the sward there passed between them a long look o deep and earnest moaning, which gave Thorn ton far more pain than it could have giver them pleasure. "You come too late to be of much service I believe, Mr. Thornton," said the other, a: he mutely and timidly offered his assistance "unless," he added, "you could take this knife and bleed that buck a little." An indignant glance was Thornton's onl] reply to this insolent speech, and he turnec to Ellen. "Are you going home, Ellen ?" bo asked "for I am bound thither and have something to say to you." "No Sir," she replied, in a voice of grcai sweetness, "not until I have thanked Mr Tilford for his timely interference. Ant you ought to thank him, also;?that is, i what you have to say is of much importance firvr Vind Vio nnf ViAPri niwsenf- nvnhnhlv vnv ~~? r*?-?; i? j J - would never have had the opportunity yoi seek." There was a tone of contemptuous severi ty in her voice, which brought the blooc mantling to Thornton's forehead; but Tilforc interposed. "ThorntoTs gun was empty," he said "and he was too much startled by your pres ence to act with much promptness, for, J suppose, ho was not expecting you, as 1 was." "As you were!" exclaimed Ellen, hom rising to her feet, but smiling archly and in telligently in his face. "Why, what righl had you to expect me ?" Tilford laughed quietly, and said, as h< turned away, "Hear what Thornton has t< say, while I bleed this dangerous feilow? and then I will tell you." There was an air of security in hismannei which galled Thornton exceedingly; but h< drew her gently aside, and when out of ear shot, addressed her imploringly: "Come away with me, Ellen dear," h< said, "for I have that to say which will no brook longer delay." "Can you not say it here ?" she asked ir resolutely. "No, no, not here," he answered eagerlj "come, come away." TT 1__ 3 -1 1. . V..I ,.l.n XJ.U iiau UlUiUdb UUUIJUCICU ; UUI one giau ccd at Tilford, who was busied with the deer and the opportunity was past. "It would be rude to go off in this man ner," she said, "and you can just as wel speak here as any where else." "Ellen! Ellen!" exclaimed her lover "you grieve me beyond measure!" "Grieve you?" she said, opening her fin< eyes as in great surprise; "how so ?" "Are you not now casting me out of youi heart," he asked, with accents full of grie and reproach, "to replace me with this inso lent Virginian ?" The color, which her recent danger driver from her cheeks, now rushed iD a deepflusl back to her very temples. She turned bei face away, but gave him no answer for som< moments, while he stood eagerly awaiting her reply, despairing, yet unwilling to believe what was but too evident. "Was this what you wished to say to me?' she at last asked, covering her confusion bj feigning an indignation which she did noi feel. But, before he could answer, Tilford, bav ing dispatched the deer, threw his rifle int< the hollow of his arm, and cut their confer ence short. "From your looks," he said, "I shoulc suppose Thornton's communication must hav< been a serious one." "More serious than agreeable," Ellen re plied; and, with one earnest look of sorrov and reproach, Thornton resumed his gun anc walked rapidly away. For once jealousy had pointed to the truth John Lowden. Ellen's father, and Basi Thornton, having been reduced in circum stances by the pressure of 181G, had set ou together from the Old Dominion, in scarcl of a new home; and for two years after thci: settlement in Illinois had continued as the^ had been in Virginia, near neighbors am warm friends. At the end of that time however, disappointment, hard labor, and thi diseases incident to a new country, brough the latter to the grave, and his burdens de volved upon the untried shoulders of his on ly son, to whom the reader has been iutro duced. Between him and Lowden's daughter, Ncl lie, (as she was called,) the intimacy of child hood had gradually ripened into a stron< and deep attachment. Their union hai been delayed, first by the elder Thorn n r>/l kir OOmn 111 IT"! Ct IUUj <11111 SUU3tl|UtUUJfj UJ OVUJV, *** which grow up between him and her father on the former's refusual to join a company of "Regulators," of which Lowden was cap tain. Thornton had grown to manhood in i community where law and order were su preme, and was, on principle, thoroughly op posed to the high-handed measures whicl , distinguished the proceedings of these selfconstituted officers of justice. Louden was arbitrary and irrascible; and this refusal to endorse his action exasperated him the more, because it came from a source so wholly unsuspected. A sort of peace had, however, been patched up ; Thornton still visited Lowt den's house, and was generally viewed as i the accepted suitor of "pretty Nellie;" though those who knew her fatner well, perceived a i smouldering dislike on his part, to the ar; rangement. 1 Things wore in this position, when?a bout two months before the opening of our story?Charles Tilford, a wealthy young Viri ginian, and a distant relative of Lowden, ar; rived in the country, and at once took up his residence at the farm. Handsome, well - educated, bold, and free?a perfect master . of all athletio and graceful exercises?and, . above all, entertaining and witty in conver? sation, and polished and agreeable in manr ners?he very soon excited Thornton's jeall ousy. The flame was fanned, perhaps, by a ; consciousness of inferiority, in those accom. plishments which attract women; for, al. though eminently handsome, Thornton was , diffident almost to bashfulncss. f A gradual estrangement had grown up be twecn the lovers, and Tilford, though at first i a constant, and apparently interested, visitor of Thornton's sister Lucy, was now never . lone absent from Nellie's side. Week after 7 U 3 week had gone by, and at last it was whis; pered that she was soon to become Tilford's ? wife. This rumor had reached Thornton, and he was on his <vay to ascertain its truth j or falsehood, when the adventure we have rc1 lated interrupted and defeated his object. We have seen the result of the interview. : CHAPTER II. 5 Thornton took the road homeward in a ^ state of mind which only the habitual culm of his nature preserved from despair. He j was marked by more acutencss of feeling, p than strength of character?was much better . fitted to endure than to inflict; and he had ' this in common with all women?the sensit tiveness, which retired within itself on being wounded, so filled his own pre-eminence in affliction, as to sustain him against utter j hopelessness. j On reaching home he retired at once to his private chamber, and bolting himself in, like an obstinate child, refused to answer ' every call from his mother and sister, until [ late in the afternoon. Then looking out up[ on the prairie, where the bright sunlight bathed the whole landscape in a flood of , tempered radiance, he felt an irresistible impulse to go forth. Mechanically he graspt ed his guu, and opening the door, without specking to any one, he walked out of the 4 house, and took his way, perhaps from habit, ' perhaps from a half conscious impulse, along the road towards Lowden's. In the meantime, an event had taken . Dlacc, which nearly concerned him. As he r * ? , walked away in the morning, leaving Ellen alone with his rival, Tilford watched him until he disappeared without the grove, when ^ again leaning his rifle against a tree, he ^ approached her with a manner, and addressed her in a tone, wholly changed. "Nellie," said, he, taking her unresisting hand, "you have had the opportunity you , desired; are you satisfied, and will you listen to me now?" "I am fully satisfied, she said "but?" "Nay, then," he interrupted, "let us have ' no reservations ! Let me claim at ouce the reward of a love far deeper than any this j timid boy can give you?say this hand shall be mine, and that the heart shall go with it." ' He received no answer, save the drooping 4 head and the trembling hand yet it required but little force to draw her to his bosom r ?and a kiss sealed the tacit compact, p On their return to the house, Tilford lost no time in seeking Nellie's father, and asking his confirmation of the contract. Accordl ing to his expectations, Lowdcn received the j announcement with great pleasure, and swore a hearty oath that the wedding should , take place on the following Sunday. \ "We shall scarcely be able," saidTi^ord, [ "to get Nellie's consent to so early a day." "Well, well," Lowden answered, shaking i him by the hand for the third time, in the r exubreance of his joy, "she has been a good ^ girl in giving up her chicken-hearted dangler, and she shall be gratified by choosing her own time." j After some further conversation, in which Lowden again and again evinced the depth of his satisfaction, he set out in search of his daughter, with the view of urging her earlv compliance with his and Tilford's wish i *f * ' lie found her in her private chamber, on her knees beside the bed, with her face buried in the clothes, sobbing as if her heart was J bursting! His entrance had not been observed, though he had rushed with the usual brusqucrie of his manner, without warning, into the sanctuary of what seemed uncon1 trollable sorrow. lie stood rooted to the floor, and gazed at her convulsed form in utt ter amazeiueut. After a pause, he advanced 1 timidly toward her, and, irresolute whether r to apprise her of his presence, lifted carcful/ ly in his hand the disordered tresses of her 1 light brown hair, which had been pushed > wildly back from her face, and lay in masses 2 upon her shoulders. t But Lowdeu was one of those men who would much rather escape from a scene of - emotion, than attempt to soothe the sorrow even of his own child, lie allowed the dishevelled locks gradually to slip through his - Angers, and turning with a noiseless tread, - left her alone with her grief, and walked 1 thoughtfully away. 1 "She didn't detain you long," said Til ford, meeting him as he passed out of the , house. , "J'11 speak toher another time," he replif cd hastily?"Now, I must get ready to rc ceivc the company." And without awaiti ing further question, he walked 011 toward - the stable. The company of llegulators, of which Low1 den was captain, had appointed this day to assemble at his house, and devise measure to protect the settlement," against the increasing depredations of thieves and other lawless men. About noon they began, singly and in pairs, to appear along the roads and through the timber; and by three o'clock, all, to the number of twenty-five, had arrived. A repast, more remarkable for profusion than elegance, was set before them, and bolted without ceremony. A large room was then prepared for their reception, and their deliberations commenced. During the day Lowden and his wife had i repeatedly visited Nellie's chamber, and endeavored to persuade her to come forth.? She had regained her composure, to some extent, but the swollen eyes and hashed face i too plainly'indicated that she had weptlong and bitterly. Even Tilford, who, however, did not feel at liberty to enter, failed, after repeated knocking at her door, even to elicit an answer. As he turned away, Lowden took his arm and led him out to the detach- i ed building, in which the Regulators were only waiting their appearance to open the council. On leaving home, Thornton, as we stated before, had, almost unconciously, taken the road which lead him past Lowden's door.? But recovering himself as he approached the familiar enclosures, he turned sharply to the left; and crossing the little stream below the point where he had shot the deer, in the morning, struck into a path which led to the west, in the rear, but out of view of the house. He had walked on for half a mile or more, regard less of the direction, but hovering without purpose round the point to which his feelings tended, when he was startled by a hail from the very depths of the wood : "Holloa, stranger!" shouted avoice, "how in the name of Moses, is a man to get out of this ?" "Walk out?or, if you have a horse, ride out," Thornton answered gruffly, and was ?11.:? ? warning uu. A glance at the man showed Thornton that the stranger was a peddler,?quite a common class in all new countries. He walked on, and the peddler followed, driving over the broken ground with a skill and circumspection which made Thornton wonder that he had ever fallen into the blunder from which he had assisted in rescuing him. Fifteen minutes brought them to the inclosure of Lowden's stables ; and, opening the rude gate for the peddler to drive through, Thornton turned away on the path by which he had come. "He might have stayed till I thanked him for his help, any how," the peddler muttered, as he sprang from his seat, and proceeded, without ceremony to unharness and stable his horses. As he issued from the door, after performing this latter duty, he made a complete circuit about the stables and corn-cribs, prying uudcr the floors of each, and apparently seeking some place of concealment. lie then went to his wagon, and, after glancing sharply around, to assure himself that he was not observed, took from one of the boxes a small bundle, which, judging by his manner of handling it, seemed to be both heavy and precious. With this he returned to the rear of one of the corn-cribs, and, stooping, thrust it between the logs under the flooring, and, drawing it close to the corner, effectually concealed it from sight or accidental discovery. "They may be all honest enough," he muttered, "but three hundred dollars in silver is rather too much to try them with." As he stood thus soliloquizing near bis treasure, he suddenly perceived Thornton walking slowly away, along the fence. The nedrller's first thnucdit was that he had been watched, and his first movement was toward resuming possession of his money. But his purpose was arrested by a voice whose very tone boded more danger to his property than he had apprehended even from Thornton's knowledge of its place of concealment. "Halloa, here! what are you about?" demanded a rough-looking fellow, in a blue jeans hunting-shirt, with a huge knife stuck into his belt, and his bullet head covered by a cap of raccoon-skin. "I've just been putting up my horses," the peddler answered hastily. "I'm a traveling merchant, and my name is Isaiah Ketchum." "Confound your name !" said the fellow insolently. "What have you got to sell?" "Everythinga gentleman wants?or a lady, either," the peddler replied, leading the way anxiously toward his wagon, and volubly ringing the changes on the catalogue with which he had endeavored to tempt Thornton. But his merchandise was fated to remain, for the present, on his hands. He was interrupted by another, who called to his "cus tomer," "Come, Bolton," said he, "the company is about to meet." "Let's go iD, then," Bolton said; "we can trade after a while." The peddler would fain have remained behind, in order to remove his precious deposit, but he imagined that Bolton's eye was upon him, and, making a virtue of necessity, followed that worthy across the inclosures and entered the house. As they crossed the threshold they met Nellie, who had just issued from her chamber, for the first time since morning. The struggle seemed to be over, but the ravages of the conflict were yet visible in her face. There was a glitter in her eye and a flush upon her cheek, which were eloquent in both her grief and her resolution to restrain it. "Is your father in the house Miss Nellie?" asked Bolton humbly?for, despite, his rough ? - - 1 I.I.- J I ness, Lis was a nature wiucn scooa rcuuKea in the presence of innoccucc. "lie isiu the north room, where T supposed you were," she replied, in a tone which plainly indicated her instinctive antipathy. "I'm on my way there now," he returned hastily; 1 'but here is a peddler who wants?" "We know Mr. Kctchum," she interrupted, and, without deigning further to notice Bolton, invited the "merchant" to eater, and led him to the room where the dinner-table was still spread. He was yet anxious about his hidden treasure; but the savory smell of the viands before him overcame his anxiety for the present; and, inwardly promising himself to be there before it could be abstracted, he seated himself at the table.? Nellie placed within his reach a good store of whatever was yet unbroken, and then stepped aside, so as not to embarrass her guest by observing him at his meal. The evening was now closing in, the shadows of the forest fell across the farm enclosures, and all objects were growing dim in tbe deepening twilight. Nellie stood at one of those primitive windows formed by simply rnn ct li duttiu^ VUI a ogtuvu ui a ?uu this commanded a view of the stables and intervening lots. Her attention was suddenly attracted by seeing some one spring hastily over the fence next the wood, and stealthily disappear among the stables, approaching, as she supposed, the peddler's wagon. "Without waiting to observe further, she turned hastily to the "merchant." "Mr. Ketchum," she said, " if you have any thing valuable in your wagou you had better go to it without delay." Isaiah sprang from his seat as if a bullet had entered his brain ; and, without waiting even to snatch his hat, rushed madly out.? Before he could reach the stable lot, however, Nellie saw the same figure recross the fence,. in such a direction as to be out of Ketchum's sight, and, supposing tho peddler's approach had prevented the depredation, if any had been intended, she turned off, and, passing through the house, issued from the front door, and walked down the slope toward the stream. As she neared the rude stile which crossed the door-yard fence, she was surprised to see Thornton walking ranidlv nast the mouth of ? -? o "T 7> r ? the lane. He glanced toward the house, paused for a moment, as if irresolute whether to turn into the opening, and then suddenly resumed his hasty pace and disappeared. Nellie also paused ; but, before she eould decide upon her course she was accosted by Ketchum, who had followed her out just in time to get a faint glimpse of Thornton as he vanished behind the fences. "Miss Lowden," he exclaimed, "I have been robbed." "When and where ?" she demanded. " At the stable, just now," he answered. "Didn't you see the man that did it?" "Come with me," she said; and, with hasty and excited steps, she led the way toward the detached building in which the Regulator council was being held. A suspicion had flashed across her mind that the man she saw cross the fence was Bolton. If so, it was not probable he could yet have taken his seat in the assembly; and thus there seemed a prospect of at once recovering the peddler's property. She knocked lightly at the door, and, to her surprise, it was at once opened by Bolton. "I was mistaken," she said to Ketchum; atmf rm in and foil tVinan man thfi r>.ir<vnmsf.fln ces?they will help you very gladly." The door closed upon him, and she turned away. CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK. Intalmg H&allattg DR. E. K. KANE. The following brief sketch of the life and adventures of this distinguished man we find iD the February number of Graham's Magazine : Dr. Elisha Kent Kane is not quite thirtyfour years old, yet he has done more than circumnavigate the globe; he has visited and traversed India, Africa, Europe, South America, the islands of the Pacific, and twice penetrated the Arctic region to the highest latitude attained by civilized man. He has encountered the cxtremest perils of sea and land, in every climate of the globe; he has discharged iu turn the severest duties of the soldier and the seaman; attached to the United States Navy as a surgeon, he is, nevertheless, engaged at one time in the coast survey of the tropical ocean, and, in a month or two, we find him exploring the frigid zone; and all the while that his personal experiences had the character of romantic adventure, he was pushing them in the spirit of SCieuiiiiU iiLiu pimautuiupiu As a boy, his instinctive bent impelled him to the indulgence and enjoyment of such adventures as were best fitted to train him for the work before him. His collegiate studies suffered some postponement, while his physical qualities pressed for their necessary training and discipline. It was almost in the spirit of truancy that he explored the Blue Mountains of Virginia, as a student of geology under the guidance of Professor llodgcrs, and cultivated, at once, his hardihood of vital energy and those elements of natural science which were to qualify him for his after service in the field of physical geography. But in due time he returned to the pursuit of literature, and achieved the usual honors, as well as though his college studies had suffered no diversion?his muscles and nerves were educated, and his brain lost nothing by the indirectness of its development, but was rather corroborated for all the uses which it has served since. He graduted at the University of Pennsylvania ?first, in its collegiate, and afterwards in its medical department. His special relishes in study indicated his natural drift: chemistry and surgery: natural science in its most intimate converse with substance, and the remedial art in its most heroic function. He went out from his Alma Muter a good classical scholar, a good chemist, mineralogist, astronomer and surgeon. Uut tie lacked, or thought he lacked, robustness of frame and soundness of health. He solicited an appointment in tho navy, and upon his admission demanded active service. He was appointed upon the diplomatic staff as surgeon to the first American Embassy to China. This position gave him opportunity to explore the M-. Philippine Islands, which he effected mainly on foot. He was the first man who descended into the crater of Tael; lowered more than a hundred feet by a bamboo rope from the overhanging cliff, and clambering down some seven hundred more through the scoriae, he made a topographical sketch of the interior of this great volcano, collected a bottle of sulphurous acid from the very mouth of the crater ; and, although he was drawn up almost senseless, he brought with him his portrait of this hideous cavern, and the specimens which it afforded. Before he returned from this trip, he had ascended the Himalayas, and triangulated ... e j. v> icece, uii iuui. iiu hhu yisucu vikjium, me Upper Nile, and all the mythologic region of Egypt, traversing the route, and making the acquaintance of the learned Lcpsius, who was then prosecuting his archaeological researches. At home again, when the Mexican war broke out, he asked to be removed from the Philadelphia Navy Yard to the field of a more congenial service, but the government sent him to the coast of Africa. Here he visited the slave factories, from Cape Mount to the river Bonny, and through Da Souza, got access to the baracoons of Dahomey, and contracted, besides, the coast fever, from the effects of which he has never entirely recovered. From Africa he returned before the close of the Mexican war, and believing that his constitution was broken, and his health rap idly going, he called upon ^resident roiK, and demanded an opportunity for service that might crown the little remnant of hie life with achievements in keeping with hie ambition; the President, just then "embarrassed by a temporary non-intercourse with General Scott, charged the doctor with dispatches to the general, of great moment and urgency, which must be carried through a region occupied by the enemy. In Mexico, he distinguished himself on many occasions. He was severely wounded, and for a long time his recovery was unlook' ed for. When he recovered and returned, he wa? employed in the Coast Survey. While engaged in this service, the government by its i correspondence with Lady Franklin, became committed for an attempt at the rescue ol Sir John and his ill-starred companions in Arctic discovery. Nothing could be bettei addressed to the Doctor's governing sentiments than this adventure. The enterprise I of Sir John ran exactly in the current ol one of his own enthusiasms; the service ol i natural science combined with heroic per i sonal effort, and, added to this, that sort o: ; patriotism which charges itself with its owr full share in the exeoution of national engagements of honor; and besides this cordial assumption of his country's debts and duties, there was no little force in the appeal of a nobly brave spirited woman to the chivalry of the American navy. He was "bathing in the tepid waters ol the Gulf of Mexico, on the 12th of May, 1850," when he received his telegraphic orrlor to nroceed forthwith to New York for duty upon the Arctic expedition. In nine days from that date he was beyond the limits of the United States on his dismissal voyage to the North Pole. Of this first American expedition, as is well known to the public, he was the surgeon, the naturalist and the historian. It returned disappoinied of its main object, after a winter in the regions of eternal ice and a fifteen months' absence Scarcely allowing himself a day to recover from the hardships of this cruise, he set on foot the second attempt, from which he hes returned after verifying by actual observation the long questioned existence of an open sea beyond the latitude of 82 deg., and beyond the temperature, also, of 100 degrees below the freezing point. His 'Personal Narrative,' published early in 1853, recounts the adventures of the first voyage, and discovers his diversified qualifications for such an enterprise. Dr. Kane's Narrative of the Expedition, now preparing, and in process of publication by Messrs. Childs & Peterson, of Philadelphia, will embrace the important discoveries made in the frozen regions far beyond the reach of all predecessors of the American exploring party, and their perilous adventures, crowded with romantic incidents, which, in the language of the Secretary of the Navy, "not only excite our wonder, but borrow a novel grandeur from the truly benevolent considerations which animated and nerved him to the task." Philosophy op Sneezing.?A sneeze always indicates that there is something wrong. It does not occur in health unless some foreign agent irritates the membranes of the nasal passages, upon which the nervous filaments are distributed. In case of cold, or what is termed influenza, these are unduly excitable, and hence the repeated sneezings which then occur. The nose receives three sets of nerves?the nerves of smell, those of feeling, and those of motion. The former communicate to the brain the odorous properties of substances with which they come into contact, in a diffused or concentrated state; the second communicate the impressions of touch; the third move the muscles of the nose, but the power of these muscles is very limited. When a sneeze occurs, all these faculties are excited in a high degree. A grain of snuff excites the olfactory nerves, which despatch to the brain the ?/ / intelligence that "snuff has attacked the nostril I" The brain instantly sends a mandate through the motor nerves to the muscles, saying "cast it out!" and the result is unmistakable. So offensive is the enemy besieging the nostril held to be, that the nose is not left to its own defence. It were too feeble to accomplish this. An allied army of muscles join in the rescue; nearly onehalf of the body arouses against the intruder; from the muscles of the lips to those of the abdomen, all unite in the effort for the expulsion of the grain of snuff. Let us coni sider what occurs in this instantaneous operation. The lung becomes fully inflated; ? - - - the abdominal organs are pressed downwards *. and the veil of the palate drops down to form a barrier to the escape of air through the - . ? * mouth, and now all the muscles which have *" ? .? relaxed for the purpose, contract simultane- " * ously, and force the compressed air from the lungs in a torrent out through the nasal p&s: sages, with the benevolent determination to sweep away the particle of snuff which has been causing irritation therein. Such, then, is the complicated actiou of a sneeze j and r if the first effort docs not succeed, then follows a second, a third, and a fourth ; and not until victory is achieved, do the army of de N fenders dissolve their compact, and settle down into the etijo\ n-ent of peace and quietude.?-Journal tf SJctlizci Reform. How to Conduct yourself in Editors' Sanctum.?Inasmuch as we arc every-day more and more convinced that there is a w.: class of persons, who are totally ignorant of the proprieties which should be enacted-in a 'sanctum,' and" the cvalue of an editor's time, we propose to submit the following brief remarks for the instruction of those who are not fully posted up iu these matters. In the first place, always make your visits during the business part of the day, and ne- ' ' * ver upon any account whatever, come in leisure moments. It would be imnroner for any person to go into a counting-room and bore a merchant an boar or two, bat such liberties are allowed in an editor's room;* - ^ After you have entered, tumble the ex- ~ Jchanges all over, they have been arranged , in regular order for reference, and hence of . . i course it is no particular importance wheth- * * , er they arc disturbed or not. Again, al- > s,. . ways be^ sure to take up the scissors and lay t them where they cannot be found. If you .> * . see a knife laying around anywhere, clean [ your nails with it and carry it ofPin your * ^ . > i. i, pocket. It is of no particular use. But a* 1 v: *> bove all things be careful to upset the ink ./?. , directly upon carefully prepared copy so as to entirely deface it. It is not much trouble * . to write it over again; you may wind up y with breaking pencil points, disarranging '? ^ , files, occupying three chairs, talking at the top of your voice, and finally spitting in the , editor's W. You can then leave with the / ?" , impression that you have paid him a distin? guished honor for which he will be eternally , indebted. 7 . g "Know me as an Enemy."?Know me as your enemy!?Yes! be a man, a woman ' ?be honest and frank?and if you really hate us, be above deception. Away with your Judas kisses! Don't hold the confid* ing hand in yours a half an hour, telling US how much you are interested in our welfare, > - :?u uuw uuiuinujr yuu wmu uo ouucuoo} ouu ?u?u ' speak our name disrespectfully to the next friend you meet, magnifying our faults, 1 laughing at our weakness, and telling our L secrets, which we had confided to your care, thinking your bosom a perfect "Salamander i, safe," which even the fire of persecution, would fail to extract from thence. Don't speak in those soft, tender, lute-like tones to us, and with that serpent's kiss be- . ;~ hind our back. Don't flatter our vanity, until we undertake some foolish scheme for the 1 furtherance of fame or fortune, which you know, (being more worldly wise,) will result., ultimately in our mortification, ir not in our ruin. Don't cry about our poverty, and cheat . us in a bargain before your handkerchief is dry. Don't manifest your affection by intruding upon our working hours, until-we have given you the greater share of our precious time without any earthly recompense. Words cost nothing; if you are a friend, prove it by deeds?irive us available sympa- V thy, not empty pity Pitytsa flcshlessbone only lit for dogs; it wounds our equals oftener than it heals. It has a tine vocabulaiy: "Poor thing!" "poor ellow!" "alas how fallen!" "I would like to help yon, but it is not convenient." And there we lie, floundering in the mud of despair, while mist ress Pity, having mad* | her speech, walks coldly on ; but Sympathy silently takes us by the hand, unites her strength with ours, until we overcome our difficulties; and hardly listening to our earnest thanks, points to a h :ght to-morrow. Away with milk and water friendship ! Know me as a friend, or "know me as an enemy." He is a wolf in wool, who amuses us with pleasant words, while he knows the almost mortal struggle of the soul with poverty and care, nor lifts a linger in our behalf. 0, mine "cuemy!" Don't pester us with your company?don't write us any love letters?don't break your neck in making low obeisances?fight openly for me, or fight openly against me; or get out of the way, that we may have time to forget yon. How The Modest Man was Mistaken.?The Lowell Courrier is responsible for the following: <In a neighboring city, at Tackeray's lecture, a few evening since, a young gentleman, the modest man of his sex, and no less polite than modest, was sitting in a pew rather remote from the light A pretty lady sat next to him. Looking on the floor during the lecture, he espied what he thought was the lady's handkerchief, the lace trimmed edge just visible from under her dress. Turning to his pew mate he gallantly whispered 'You've dropped your hand -? ? it i i ? i 1 5 kercbiet, niadame v and Detore sne couia reply, he proceed to pick up. Horror! he had seized the edge of her pet skirt, and did not discover his mistake until the top of a gaiter boot stared him in the face, and the faint sound of a laugh just nipped in the bud, by the application of a real hand-' kerchief warned him of his mistake. iMoral.?Don't attempt to pick up anything with lace to it before you know what it is.' Severity or the Season.?(Extremely Unroraantic)?Alfred, devotedly in love, asked Maria for her hand. "You may have it, Alfred, dear," the artless girl replied, "but I am afraid you will find it twice its usual size; for its covered all over with chilMains."?JPunch.