Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

jno l miller & co., proprietor*, j ill Independent. Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. |lewis m. grist, publisher. VOL. 3. YOEKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 1857. NO 51. Cjjoicc |1oflrD. jr ! f THE EVENING HEARTHSTONE. j ' Gladly now we gather round it, For the toiling day is done, ' ' And the gray and solemn twilight Follows down the golden sun ; 11 Shadows lengthen on the pavement. Stalk like giants through the gloom, I a Wander past the dusky casement, : fi Creep around the firelit room. ; v Draw the curtains?c!"?e the shutters? Place the slippers hy the fire : Though the rude wind loudly mutters, I I What care we for windsprite's ire ? j p What care we for outward seeming? j t Fickle Fortune's love or smile ? j a If around us love is beaming? Love can human ills beguile ! 'Nentli the cottage roof and palace, j v From the peasant to the king? ! 0 All are quaffing from Life's chalice j Bubbles that enchantment bring, n~,?u ?* ? irlf.winsr?iuu?ic flowing, J V From tlie Hps we love the he.st; b Oh, the joy, the bliss of knowing There are hearts whereon to rest ! Hearts that throb with eager gladness? ^ Hearts that echo with our own? While grim Car# and haunting Sadness *Mingle ne'er in look or tone : ti Cares may thread the halls of Daylight? ^ Sadness haunt the midnight hour? But the wierd and witching Twilight Sl Brings the glowing Hearthstone's dower. I Altar of our holiest feelings! u Childhood's well remembered shrine , Spirit yearning?Soul revealings? ? Wrenths immortal round thee twine! r Miscellaneous Bering ? 0 JOHN RANDOLPH. I. After the Auiity had gotten fairly under D way, and the passengers somewhat acquaint- ^ ed with each other, they sought, by various amusements, to relieve the tedium of their voyage. Whist was a favorite game on ^ board; and here Mr Randolph soon proved ^ his superiority as a player. It became a contest each night who should have him as a a partuer, and finally they took turns. a T observed, one morning, says Mr. Jacob s' Harvey, of New York, to whom we are in- a debtcd fur the incidents of this voyage, that j u Mr. Randolph was examining a very large | box of books, containing enough to keep it! i 1 < him busy reading during a voyage rouuu ? the world. I asked him why he had brought s' so many with hiiu ? 'I want to have thetn ^ bound in England, sir,' replied he. 'Bound in Englaud !' exclaimed I, laughing, 'why j c: did you not send them to New York or Bos- J ^ tou, where yon cau get them done cheaper?'; u 'What, sir,' replied lie sharply, -patronize \ w some of our Yankee taskmasters; those pat- ^ riotic gentry, who have caused such a heavy Sl duty to be imposed upon foreign books?? | Never, sir, never; I will neither wear what they make, nor eat what they raise, so long u as my tobacco crop will enable me to get supplies from old England ; and shall em- " ploy Johu Bull to bind my books, until the j ^ time arrives when they can be properly done 1 S'Htfh of Mason and Dixon's! He was kind i ^ i enough to offer me the use of them, saying : 0 'Take tny advice and don't read any of the j c novels; and when you get home, sir, tell j a your father that I recommended abstinence J v from novel reuding^and irhiskypunch. De- " pond upon ir. sir, they are both equally in- j jurious to the brain ? j a His favorite author was Milton, and he j sl frequently gave us readings from 'Paradise J Lost, stopping occasionally to point out the j f' beauties of the poem. Young, Thompson, | ^ Johnson and Southey, did not please his v taste ; they were, he said, too artificial.'?Is] ,.f modern dociiis was I 1/Ui' 111^ Vltl^i7iUVUil<>ii V* ? ? Jvery original.' j*' 'Sir. I place first on this list, Tom Crib's j *' Memorial to Congress, for its great wit and j satire; next the Two Peuny Post Boy, fur 11 similar excellencies ; aud the third, Childc J ^ Harold's Pilgrimage, for every variety of n sentiment, well expressed. But, sir, (no ; offence to Ireiaud,) I can't go Moore's songs; ' w they are too sentimental by half; all ideal ; " and above nature.* Turning over his books one day, I was j ^ surprised to tiuda copy of 'I'anny,' Mr. Hal-1 a leek's very clever satirical poem, which had t( been recently published 'I am glad,' said , " 1, 'that you do not proscribe i*?>?/ poetry i n as well as I ni?lew codfish.' 0 no, sir,' replied he, I always admire ! '' talent, no matter where it comes from ; and ; c I consider this little work as the best speci- j 11 men of American poetry that we have yet ] s seen. I am proud of it, sir; and I mean to 1) take it to London with me, and to present it ! " to that lady whose talents and conversation 1 . shall most admire.' I may mention here, although somewhat j out of place, when we met in Loudon in s June following, I suddenly recollected the 11 circumstances, aud said to him : By the way, \.' Mr. Randolph, to whom did \'ou present i11 'Fanuy V !a 'To your countrywoman, Miss Edge worth, : r sir : she has no competitor in my estimation ; She fairly wou the book, sir.' He proposed, one fine morning, to read i ^ Fanny to uie aloud, aud on deck where we I 7 were enjoying a tine brcezi: aud noon-day I sun. It was the most amusing 'rcadiug' I ! ^ ever listeuud to. The were mucn;. longer thau the poem; for whenever he came ! ^ to a well known name up weut his spccta-1 j. cles and down went the book, and he branchin cd off into some anecdote of the person or \ of his family. Thus we 'progressed' slowly | from page to page, and it actually consumed j three mornings before we reached? "And music ceases when it rains In Seudder's balcony." c 1 was one morning looking over his books u for my owu amusement, and observed that (: several of the prettiest editions were marked | a; 'This for Miss .' ! li 'llow is this?' said I; 'some fair lady j o seems to have enchained you.' I p 'Ah,' replied he, -if you ouly knew her, I b the sweetest girl in the 'Ancient Dominion,' j r< and a particular favorite of mine, sir; I shall j f( have a!i these books beautifully bouud in I ti London, sir, tit to grace her centre-table on w my own return.' j n rmnrwra?a?bp? eae?a?raw n? ? I took up one of them, a volume of old days, aod afterreading a few pages, exclaimed : Surely you have not read plays lately dr. Randolph, or you would not present his book to Miss : it is too lascivious or her eyes.' lie immediately ran his eye over the ?age; then took the book out of my hands, nd immediately endorsed on the back inot it for Ret.' Then, turning to me, he said rith warmth: 'You have done me an infinite service sir. would not for worlds do aught to sully the mrity of that girl's mind. 1 had forgotten hose plays, sir. or they would not have found place in my box. I abominate as much s you do. sir, that vile style of writing rhich is intended to lessen our abhorrence f vice, and throw ridicule on virtuous conuct. You have given ine the hint, sir.? Jome , assist me in looking over all these ooks, lest some other black sheep may have ound its way into the flock.' We accordingly went through the whole ox but found no other volume deserving of oudemnation, much to Randolph's satisfacion. He then presented me with several ooks as keepsakes; and he wanted to add everal more, but I had to decline positively, lis generosity knew no bounds; and had T eeu avaricious of mental food, I might have ecome possessed of half his traveling libray On the fifth of April, we landed about oon. The wind had changed since Ranolph predicted that we would strike 'Slajo had and we first saw the high mountains f Donegal. The atmosphere was beautifuly clear, and we ran along the coast near eough to see the houses, &c. Towards night landolph, said to me : 'Well, sir, I now believe the anecdote relted by Arthur Young. In his notes on reland he says, that one day a farmer took lis son a young boy, some distance from omc, in the county Meath. They came to tree; the boy was astonished, stopped, and sked, 'Father what is that?' never having een one before. Here have we been sailing long the Irish coast for a whole day, and ' ? ? T t ot a single rrrc nave t yet seen . Jt was too true. Barren are the mounlins of Donegal, no trees to be seen ; and it i no wonder that an American should be iruck with astouishment, just arriving from is own well wooded shores. The moon was shilling brightly when we mic up with the Island of 'Ratlin,' or llaghery,' but the tide ran so strongly against s we passed if very slowly, notwithstanding e had a stiff breeze iu our favor. As Mr. Randolph gazed upon its rugged shore, he iid : I ' Th".t island I have wished much to sec, j r. 1 suppose that you are aware that its J lhabitants are a most peculiar race. They ?ok down with contempt upon the ?Contie/?\' as they call Ireland (only three miles istant;) and the greatest curse known to lem i?, 'May Ireland be your latter end.'? hey have their own laws and usages ; iuterlarrying among themselves ; pay great defence to their landlord and priest; smai/f/lr. little for an honest livelihood; and the seerest punishment practiced amoug them is anishmcnt to Ireland !' Next we ran down the Channel, passing j nd meeting hundreds of vessels, from the | lately Indiaman to the small fishing smack. I he American vessels were easily discovered roni the British, by their white canvass, right sides, and sharp boughs. It was a ery exciting scene, aud Randolph was in fine pirits. The sight of Old England brought back lie olden time' to his memory, aud he shed Mrs of delight 'Thank God.' exclaimed he, uliat I have ved to behold the lanu of Shnksponre, of lilton, of my forefathers! may her great: ?i._ l. ?ii t> ess increase uiiuugu an mm- . It was past eleven o'clock at night when re reached the dock, and we remained on oard till next morning, liefore parting, [acdolph said to tne, 'I do uot wish you to ill any one that I am here.' I do uot covet nv attentions at present, sir. I have come ) England to sir, and not to bei? tn ; to heir, ad not to be heard. I do uot want to be iade a lion of, sir. l~"f understand me.? have formed a friendship for you, which I ope will he continued, sir ; and when you ome to London, you must instantly inform jo of your arrival ; there is my address, ir. God bless you ; and remember you tell our father not to 'jive you whisky punch or oceh. THE CHANCES OF LIFE. We have an old document in our possesion which contains some interesting inforjation unknown to many, and rarely encountered in the papers. Among other things, t contains a table exhibiting the average ge attained by persons employed in the vaious popular professions of the day. In his particular, as in most others, the farturs have the advantage over the rest of rnaniud, as their average age is sixty-live.? lext upon the docket coiue the judges and astices of the peace, the dignity of whose ives is lengthened out to sixty-four. Fol )wing, tiioti, immediately lutnc category ot jngevity, is the batik officer, who sums up is account at the age of sixty-three. I'ubic officers cling to their exisieuce with as inch pertinacity as they retain their places -they never resign their offices, but life lbrikes them at fifty-six. Coopers, although iiey seem to stave through life, hang on till (xey are I fty-cight. The good works of the lergymcn follow them at fifty-five. Sliip'rights, hatters, lawyers and ropemakers some very appropriately) go together at the ge of fifty-four. The 'Village Blacksmith,' ke most of his cotemporaries, dies at fifty-! nc Butchers follow their bloody career for i recisely half a century. Carpeuters are | rought to scaffold at forty-nine. Masons ealize their cry of 'Mort!' at the age of >rty-seveu. Traders cease their specula- j ons at forty-six. .Jewelers are disgusted ] ith the tiosel of life at forty-four. Bakers, : lanufucturers and various mechanics, die at j furty-three. The painter yield to their choice at forty-two. The brittle thread of the tailor's life is broken at forty-one. Editors, like all other beings who come under the special admiration of the gods, die comparatively young?they accomplish their errand of mercy at forty. The musician redeems his last note and plays his dying fall at thir- | ty-uine. The professional dancer shuffles off his mortal coil also at thirty-niue. Printers | .become dead matter at thirty-eight. The machinist is usually blown up at thirty-six. I j The teacher dismisses his scholars at the early : age of thirty-four, and the clerk is even j shorter lived, for he must needs prepare his balance-sheet at thirty-three. No account is' ! given of the average longevity of wealthy uncles ; the inference is fair, therefore, that ! they are immortal. I REVOLUTIONARY INCIDENT. In the Autumn of 1777, when Lord j ! Howe had possession of Philadelphia, the | situation of the Americans, who could not l follow their beloved commander, was truly j distressing; subject to the evory-day insults ! of cruel and oppressive foe, bound to pay I obedieuce to laws predicated on the momenta' ry power of a proud and vindictive comj raander, it can be better pictured than described. To obtain the common necessaries of a life, particularly flour they had to go as far as Bristol, a distance of eighteen or twenty miles, and even this indulgence was not granted them uutil a pass was procured from Lord Howe, as guards were placed along Vine street, extending from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, forming a complete j barrier; beyond these through the woods exj tending as far as Frankford, were stationed j the piquet guards, thus rendering it in a j manner impossible to reach Bristol mills unj less first obtaining a pass. | The Commander-in-chief and the Araeri; can forces were them encamped at Valley | Forge, sufferiug from cold, hunger, and the ; inclemency of the season. The British j revelled in plenty, and spent their days in j feasting, their nights in balls, riots, and j dissipation ; thus resting in supposed se! curity, while the American chieftain was ! planning a mode for final extirpation. A ! poor woman, with six small children, whose ; i husband was at Valley Forge, had made j ! frequent applications for a pass. Engage- ! ! meut rendered it impossible for her cruel I tormentors to give her oue. Rendered j I desperate from disappointment and the cries | of her children, she started alone without a pass and by good luck eluded the guard and reached Bristol. It will be remembered by many now liviug that six brothers, by the name of Loale or Doale, about this time committed many acts of heroic bravery, but more in the character of marauders than soldiers. They were men full six feet high, stout and active; a fearless intrepidity characterized their deeds, and they always succeeded in J making their escape. A marked partiality I to the Americans rendered them obnoxious j to the British, and always welcome to the i former, to whom they conveyed what in- j formation they could glean iu their adventures. Our adventurous female having procured her flour in a pillow ease, holding about j twenty pounds, was returning with a light I heart to her anxious and lonely babes. She | j had passed thepiequet guards at Trankford, j and was just entering the woods a little this j j side, when a tall, stout man stepped from j behind a tree, and putting a letter in her J hand requested her to read it. She grasped j with eager joy the letter bearing the charac-! ter of her husband's handwriting. After a j pause he said," Vourhusbaud is well, madam, | and requested me to say that in a short time ; he will be with you ; money is a scarce | ! article among us?I mean them; but on j ! account of your husband's partiality to the I | cause of liberty. I am willing to become j ' bis banker." So saying, he handed her a ' ! purse of money. My means madam, are j I adequate or I would not thus lavish,"seeing | I she was about to refuse it. " You said, sir, my husband would see me I ?,i_ . i i ,u?. MIUHIJ y IIUW UU juu ivuuw mat wuiuu occtuo I so impossible ? And how did you know me, j who never " Hush, madam, we arc now approaching the British guard; suffice it to say, the A- j nierican commander has that iu his head which, like an earthquake, will shake the whole American continent, and expunge | these miscreants ; but hark ! take the road I to the left Farewell." So saying, he deI parted. She gave one look, but vacaucy j filled the spot where hestood. Withaslow, | ! cautious step, she approached Vine street, j I She had nearly reached her home, when the lawful word 'Halt!' struck her to the soul.? She started, and found herself in the custody j of a British sentinel. 'Your pass woman.' | 'I have none, sir; my children are ' I ?1> , the rebel crew; why do you breed i enemies to your King ? This flour is mine ; ?off woman, and die with your babes.' A ! groan was her only answer. The ruffian I was about parting, when the former messenj ger appeared?his whole demeanor was j changed?humble simplicity marked his gait?he approached the guard with a seeming fearfulness, and begged him in a suppliant voice to give the poor woman the flour. 'Fool! idiot!' exclaimed the guard-houce; I if you interfere here, you, soou shall be its ; inmate.' 'May be so, sir; but wou't you ! give the poor woman the means of supporti ing her family one week longer ? Recollect ! the distance she has walked, the weight of ' i? ??,i _> ,ir i inu ua^j auu ittuncti A* nuu fury, sirrah? Why bid me recollect?? [ You plead in vain?be gone, or I'll seize 1 you as a spy.' " You won't give the poor woman her flour ?" ?No "Then, by my country's faith and hopes of freedom, you shall; and with a powerful arm he seized the guard by the throat and hurled him to the ground. '-Kuu, madam, run?see, the gunrd-hou^e is alive?seize your flour, pws Vino-street, and you are safe.' 'Twas done. The guard made an attempt to rise, when the stranger drew a pistol and shot him 'Jead. The unfortunate man gazed around hiin with fearless intrepidity. There was rut one way of escape, aud through the woods. Seizing the dead man's musket, he started like a deer, pursued by the hounds. 'Shoot him down! down with him !' was echoed from one line to the other. The desperado was lost in the woods, and a general search commenced; the object of their pursuit in the meantime flew like lightning; the guard was left behind, but the whole picquet line would soon be alarmed?one cours? alone presented it self, and that was to'Toount Indorse, which was concealed among the bushes, and gallop down the Deleware; a boat was already there for hiiu. The thought was do sooner suggested than it was put into execution.? He mounted his horse and eluding the alarmed guards, had nearly reached the Delaware. TT I /? -1 t_ 1 / 1 J. I 1 1 nere ne iouna nimseu neaaea ana neramed in by at least fifty exasperated soldiers. One sprang from behind a tree and demanded immediate surrender. *'Tis useless to prevaricate?you are uow our prisoner, and your boat, which before excited suspicion, is now iu our possession.' 'Son of .a slave! slave to a king! how dare you address a freeman ? Surrender yourself?a Doale never surrendered himself to any man, far less to a blinded patron ?away, or die,' and he attempted to pass. The guard levelled his gun, but himself was levelled to the dust; the ball of Doale's pistol had been 6wifter than his own The chase was now truly desperate ; behind him was the whole line of guards?on the north of him the Frankford picquets, and on the left of him the city of Philadelphia, filled with the British troops.. One way, and only one, presented itself, and that was to cress the river. He knew his horse; he plunged in?a shout succeeded and ere he reached half the distance twenty armed boats were in swift pursuit.? His noble horse dashed through the Delaware, his master spurred him on with double interest, while the balls whistled around.? The tide was running on ; when he reached theJersey shore he found himself immediately opposite the old slip at Market street, on reaching the shore lie turned round, tooK out a pistol, and with steady aim, fired at the first boat; a man fell over the side and sank to rise no more. He then disappeared; his pursuers gave one look, one curse, and th?u returned to the Pennsylvania shore, fully believing that if he was not the devil he was one of his priucipal agents. THE BORING FAMILY. The doctor is a bore? He bores you with his pill, lie bores you with his lance, And lie bores you with bis bill, And if he has not killed you, You send for him no more? And if you try a new one, You find too he will bore, And after each and nil you've tried, And by their medicine feel sore, I'll bet you'll swear they all have fled? That all of them will "bore. The lawyer is a bore? He bores you with his fee; And if he finds his client pays, It goes to chancery : And lie is sure he'il gain the suit, For lie tried one like that before, But when His Honor lie decides, How sadly he did bore, And if you try a new one, I'm sure the case you'll rue: For you'll find without a doubt, That he will bore you too. The merchant is a bore? He bores you with his price Of fancy goods, and-so-forth, And everything that's nice. He tells you that he cheaper sells Than any other store, But when you ask hitn what's his price, You find he tries to bore. Perhaps he'll say he is in debt? Is selling below his cost? And out of it he must quickly get, He cares not for his loss. If you do then buy of him, PorlinDS the verv next door i Might undersell a hundred per cent., .Aud that would sadly bore. RECOMPENSE OF A DUELIST. A Leipsic paper just received tncntioos the following incident as having occurred in New Orleans: A Frenchman, lately arrived, went into a restaurant and called for a glass of beer.? As the boy brought it, a tall man, unknown to hiui, who had eyed tne Frenchman rather insolently on his entrance, snatched the glass from the table and drank it off. <1 have not the honor of your acquaintance, sir/ remarked the Frenchman, surprised at the familiarity. 'Nor I of yours,' retorted the other. 'You are seeking a quarrel with me, then V 'I should be sorry to leave you in doubt of the fact,' was the insolent response. 'Look you, sir/ said the newcomer; 'I am a man of peace, and mind my own business. I meddle with none, and I receive no unprovoked insults. I pass }rours by for this time. Boy, bring me another glass!' The Creole broke into taunting laughter, and when the second glass was brought, stepped up and seized it, drank part of the contents, and threw the remainder away.? The Frenchman would have rushed upon him, but was held back by the bystanders. 'Hold, sir!' tbey cried, 'or you are lost !? If he does not kill you on the spot, he wiP in the duel; for he is the most skillful delist in Louisiana. With pistol, or ^>de, or with the sword, he is unequaled. He has killed thirty-four meu, aod wp<fhded over sixty more.' / 'What you tell me,' mined the Frenchman, 'convinces me thy more that he ought to be dealt with." 'lie then drew near the man who had insulted him, and said?'Sir, I happen to be in a particularly good humor to-day, and am not dicposed to take offence. You have taken away two glasses of beer I had ordered; it is now my turn, and I hope my forbearence may teach you better behavior.? Boy?another glass !' The boy brought it, trenbling, as if an ticipating a catastrophe. Scarcely had he placed it ou the table, when the bully again seized it. and tossed off its contents. At ; the same instant, like a tiger on his prey, ; the Frenchman threw himself on his enemy, j and assailed him in the ftioe, brest, and side, 1 with a tempest of blows and kicks. The : bully, who had net time to recover himself, j was soon stretched on the door, and pom| meled still more unmercifully till bleeding j and quite insensible. The victor then j quietly drew forth his pocket book, took out a card, and pinned it to the vest of his prostrate foe.. He theu said to the spectators of the affray: 'If there is "present any friend of this individual, I would inform him that he may find me at my lodgings every morning from eight to eleven. Boy, another glass of 1 !> Deer . This time he took the glass, and drank it off composedly. Then, paying for the four glasses, he turned and left the place, amid the wonder of all the company. As they lifted the vanquished bully, it was found that two of his libs were broken, and one of his eyes was seriously damaged. The card bore the inscription : 'Lucian Petit, Fencing Muster, from Paris?will give instruction in fencing, boxing, and in the various methods of fighting. Terms moderate.' Some six weeks after this scene the door of L. Petit's apartment was Hung open, one morning, and a man strode in without announcement. 'Doyou know me?' he cried, in a voice choked with rage. ? Perfectly,' responded the fencing master ?'What is your wish ?' 'To kill you,' thundered the bully, who had just recovered from his wounds, of which, however, he bore the traces. 'I know I was in the quarrel; on that account I give you the choice of weapons. But make haste, for you or I must be a corpse before sunset.' <Let us rather talk the matter over coolly,' replied the Frenchman. 'I have no more desire to-day to kill you, than to beat you the other day. But if you are bent on picking a quarrel, you will find me ready.' 'Wretched boaster, we shall see! I have j killed thirty-four men already in duels, and J you are much mistaken if you think to make me afraid of you!' There was no help, and the combatants proceeded to fight out their quarrel. Petit deferring to the bully, who chose the sword, i in the use of which he was very expert.? | He received a wound in the arm, and the fencinp: master proposed an adjustment; but the Creole insisted that the encounter should be fatal to one or the other. It was not long before he fell mortally wounded.? The community was delivered from a nuisance, and Petit's fame so widely established as a professor of the science of battle, that pupils came to him from every quarter, A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE STORY. A few weeks since, in coming down the North river, I was seated in the cabinet of the magnificant steamer Isaac Newton, in conversation with some friends. It was becoming late in the evening, and one after another seeking repose from the cares and toils of the day, made preparations to retire to their berths. Some pulling off their boots and coat, lay themselves down to the rest : others, in the attempt to make it seem as tuuch like home as possible, threw off more of their clothing?each one as their comfort or apprehension of danger dictated. I had noticed on deck a fine looking boy of about six years old, following around a man, evidently his father, whose appearance indicated him to be a foreiguer, probably a German?a man of medium height, and respectable appearance. The child was unusually fair and fine looking, handsomely featured, with an intelligent and affectionate expression of ccuntenance ; and from his German cap fell chestnut hair, in thick clustering curls. After working about the cabin for a while. the father and son stopped within a few feet of where we were seated, and began preperations for going to bed. I watched them. The father adjusted and arranged the bed the child was to occupy, which was an upper berth, while the little fellow undressed himself. Having finished this, his father tied a haudkerchief around his head to protect his curls, which looked as if the sunlight from his young, happy heart always rested there. This done, I looked for him to seek his resting-place ; but, instead of this, he quietly kneeled down upon the floor, put his little hands together, so beautifully childlike and simple, resting his arms on the lower berth against which he knelt, he began his vesper prayer. The father sat down by his side, and waited the conclusion. It was for a child, a long prayer, but well understood. I could hear the murmuring of hb sweet voice, but could not distinguish th<J words he spoke.? There were men around him?Christian TilcII, reiiriug icst niiiiuut auwuicut courage or piety kneel down in a steamboat's cabim and before strangers acknowledge the goodness of God, or asking His protectionJYiia was the training of some pious mothy{. Where was she now 1 How many times had her kind hand laid on the sunny locks, as she taught him to lisp his prayer? A beautiful sight it was, that child at prayer in the midst of the busy, thoughtless throng. He alone, of this worldly multitude, draws nigh to Heaven. I thank the pareutal love that taught him to lisp his evening prayer, whether far or nigh. I could scarce restrain from weeping then, or can I now, as I see again that swo?c child, in the crowded tumult of a -steamboat cabin, bending in devotion to Ins Maker. But a little white before I saw a crowd of admired liacners gather about a company of Italian singers in the uppersalloon?a mother and her two sons, with voice, and harpe and violin; but no one heeded, no one cared for the ohild at prayer. When the child had finished his evening ! devotiou, he arose and kissed his father ? most, affectionately, who put him into his | berth to rest for the uight. 1 felt a strong ! desire to speak to them, but deferred it uni til morning. When morning came, the I confusion of landing prevented me from ! seeing them again. But if ever I meet that I boy again in his youth, in his declining ; years, I'll thank him for the influence and | example of that night's devotion, and bless i the name of the mother who taught him. J Scarcely any passing incident of my life i ever made a deeper impression on my mind. II went to my room, and thanked God that 1 ; had witnessed it, a^l for Its influence on my heart. Who prays on a steamboat ? Who teach their children to pray at home?? Home Jo run al. OUR COUNTRY'S GREATNESS. The greatest cataract in the world is the Falls of Niagara, where the waters, accumulated from the great upper lakes, forming a fjirnr tkrao.rinqrfArQ o milo Sn nra !l l'V.1 nil ^V/MjUUI O Wl tl UJlIt 1U fWUbUj 111 W suddenly contracted and plunged over the j rocks in two columns, to the depths of one | hundred aud sixty feet. The greatest cave ih the world is the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, where one can make a voyage on the waves of a subterreanean river, and catch fish without eyes. The greatest river in the world is the Mississippi, four thousand one hundred miles in length. Its name is derived from an Indian word, meaning "the Farther of Waters." The largest valley in the world is the valley of the Mississppi. It contains five hundred thousand square miles, and is one of the most prolific regions oo the globe. The largest lake in the world is Lake Superior, four hundred and thirty miles long. The greatest natural bridge in the world ! is that over Cedar Creek, in Virginia. It | extends across a chasm eighty feet in width, ! mid twn hnndrnd find fiffr fnnt dorn. fit the bottom of which a creek flows. The greatest solid mass of iron in the world is the iron mountain of Missouri. It is three hundred and fifty feet high, and two miles in circuit. The longest railroad in the world is the Central Railroad of Illinois, which is seven hundred and thirty-one miles long?and cost fifteen millions of dollars. The greatest number of miles of railroad, in proportion to its surface, of any country in the world, is in Massachusetts, which has over one mile to every square mile of its area. The greatest number of clocks manufactured in the world, is turned out by the small State of Connecticut. The largest number of whaleships in the world are sent out by Nantucket and New Bedford. The greatest grain port in the world is Chicago. The largest aqueduct in the world is the Croton aqueduct in New York. It is forty and a half miles long, and cost twelve and a half millions of dollars. " I'LL SPEAK FOR THEE." 'The penalty of matrimony,' saith some wag,'is a mother-in-law.' Let us turn the proposition : the penalty of bringing up a daughter is a son-in-law. Now, admitting the two propositions, who hath the advantage ? Who, my dear son-in-law, induceth thy wife, who thou hast promised to love, to put up with those sulky fits which thou in dulgest in wheD something hath not moved smoothly with thee in thy business, or when the wet weather lasteth longer than thy convenience requireth, or when thy party hath been defeated at an election, or when (provoking incident!) some one hath out-talked thee in an argument? Who, when in sultry summer-time thou wouldst avoid the dust of the city streets and the heated reflection of the sun from brick walls by going to the spring^ remaineth at home to look after the house, too careful of thy interests to partake of thy pleasure, howbeit her age and her oft inflrmities require the relaxation quite as much as thou ? Who, when little Peter, and Sally, and Peggy had thewhoopincough removed them to the third story back chamber, with herself, that thou mightest enjoy repose undisturbed by their distressing barking ? Who, when thou hadst an attack of that sickness to which thou art liable (for who is exempt from some occasional ailing V) enabled thy wife, by assisting and relieving her, to give thee more constant attention ?? Who, when thou triest the usually serene temper of thy helpmate, by tarrying an hour after dinner-time or two after bed-time, maketh excuses for thee, and procureth for thee the smile with which thou art received ?? Who boasteth of thee occasionally when among other mothers-in-law, narrating those things which she may think will do thee credit, and concealing those little sins and imperfections with which she cannot but know thee to be afflicted ? Who taketh care to inform the gossips that thou contributest to the relief of the destitute, or to the alleviations of grief in some instances, and forgetteth to allude to the occasion when, in ill-humor, thou withholdest alms from a beggar? Who hath done these things if it be not thy mother-in-law ? But she hath done more , than this for thee, forgetful man! She hath yielded to thee the child of her bosom?a portion of herself; the successor of her womanhood j the pride, the flower, the fruit of her life! Then how canst thou cast at her an unseemly jest, and violate the deference due to her age by an unmannerly sarcasm, a sting* ing falsehood ? Thou couldst not do this, unless?(I see thee wince !)?unless thou hast some habit, more or less culpable, which thou koowest she should rebuke; whioh thy conscience feels to be rebukeable. Wag, go mend thy manners, and then thou wilt respect thy mother-io-law. 9&T Lire op to your eng&gemeaU* j A Ray of Sunshine.?We saw a man hurriedly wending his way through one of the retired streets of a neighboring town.? He was evidently a man of business, and one who had but little spare time at his command. Suddenly his progress was arrested ' in a novel manner. Several little girls seeing his approach, had locked their tiny arms together aud barricaded the sidewalk in front of hiin. We watched with interest to 6ee how the interruption would be received by the gentleman, but were kept in suspense only a momeiit, for giving a sudden spring, our hero attempted to pass round one of the corner posts, (a fat little chub of a girl, brimful of mischief.) bnt ho was foiled, for the fence moved quite as rapidly as himself and then came to a standstill directly before him. And theu such a laugh. Jt made us wish that we were a child again. The next effort to escape was by attempting to break the connecting links : but the little witches CJ ' ~ " evideutly knew that sufficient force would not be employed to hurt them, and without that they seemed to resist to the last. At length catching up one of the number, and printing a kiss upon her rosy cheek, the gentleman by a dexterous movemeut, passed the ramparts, when after releasing the captive, he hurried away amid such outbreaks of merriment as proceeds only from the unblighted heart of innocent and happy childhood. Without knowing anything more of that man, we would trust him with gold uncounted. Our word for it, there is a happy home somewhere, and we would like to look in upon it when business hours are over. Sandy Hill Herald. Remarkable Instance of Heroism.? The Rev. Mr. Scudder, of India, in a letter to the Christian Intelligencer, gives the following instance of heroism, called forth by the Indian mutinies: Let Americans never be ashamed that Englishmen are their forefathers. England is a noble country. Her sons are heroes and her daughters are heroines. This rebellion has brought out deeds that deserve to be associated with those valorous actions which we, with throbbing pulses read in history.? In one place a lady and lier husband fled in their carriage. lie stood upright. She took the reins. She lashed the horses through a band of mutineers, while be, with coW aim, shot dead one who seized the horses' heads, and another who climbed upon the carriage behind to cut him down. On i they fled, till again they found themselves among foes, and a rope stretched across the road made further progress appear impossible. True to herself, she dashed the horses at full speed against the rope, and as they bearing it down, stumbled, she, by rein and whip, raised them, while her husband's weapons again freed them from those who succeeded in leaping upon them. Ife was i wounded, but both escaped with their lives. In another place a young lady, the daughter of an officer, shot seven mutineers before they killed her. A captain, pressed by his sepoys, with his good sword slew twenty-six of thera before he fell! Wit of French Rascals.?A trick was played off a few days ago, at the Fair , of JJreaute. A well-dressed gentleman sauntering about with a valuable gold-headed cane in his hand, was stopped by a wretched . looking man, who bad dragged himself painfully along on crutches, and piteously i implored charity. The gentleman, moved . to compassion, generously gave the beggar a piece of silver, 'How can you be so foolish,' i cried a man standing by; 'that fellow is an , impostor, and no more lame than you are.? M Just lend me your cane for a minute, and by means of a sound thrashing I wilF convince you of the truth of what I say."-The gentleman mechanically let the man ; take the cane, and the beggar, throwing down bis crutches, ran off as fast as he could. The other, amidst roars of laughter from the by-standers, ran after him menacing him with the cane, and so they ran a considerable distance, when thef" turned aside into the twon, and were seen no more. The gentleman waited for some time, expecting to see the man return with his cane, but the expectation was in vain. It was then clear that the whole scene had been an affair concerted between a pair of adroit rogue3. The gentleman had nothing for it but to walk home, feeling veiy foolish at having been so victimized.?Sunday Gazette. Witches and their Judges.?Daring the witchcraft time, the English burned about 30,000 women, generally poor and retired females who bad no man to defend them. The victims were, bound hand and foot, and thrown into deep water. If they floated, that was evidence of guilty magical power, and they were taken out and bnrned at the stake, while the rigidly righteous sang psalms. If the accused sank and were drowned, that was evidence that they were innocent?and it was a pity they were drowned! We are in possession o( an infallible receipt for making a lad/'8 cheek red without paint. For tbeir speoial benefit we publish it without; charge. Here it is : Place her at a wash tub, with her sleeves rolled up, and an arm full of dirty clothes. Then let her beau suddenly enter, and her cheeks will be a glowing red in an instant. Snooks says this receipt has never been known to fail. Just trj it, ladies, and if it fails, let as know, that we may publish Snooks as unrelioVile onfKnrtfw TVill enn ? ..?v ???V' ? J? Three slave vessels recently captured and taken into Havana, are said to have been bbilt with Boston and Portland capital, | and when captured ' eastern people were on board as officers and part of the crews.? Aoother of the vessels had been owned by parties in Massachusetts, Maine and New York, and was sold with the knowledge that she was intended for the slave trade. One ! had 460 Africans on board aad another 116.