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jno. i. killer & co., proprietors, j An Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. | lewis m. grist, pumiiier. "VOL. 4. YOEKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 11, 1858. NO. 10. (Sprite Jjoctrg. I WEPT BESIDE THY GRAVE, MOTHER. RT FRANK MYRTLE. I wept beside thy grave, mother, My heart is weeping still, Ana fondly lingers near thy tomb On yonder lonely bill. I did not hear thy partiug words, I did not see thee die; But thy last message came tome, When death was hovering nigh. . I've been a truant boy, mother, And caused thee many a pain. 1 But I would heal the wound I made, Could'st thou return again; ! My boyish heart would not obey Thy mild commands, I know, And o'er my waywardness to thee, l My tears will ever flow. I was thy cherished pet, mother, Thy love was fond and true, i Thy kisses oft bedew'd my cheek, I Ere manhood's care I knew; Aftiicttou"s child from intancy, Ye loved ine but the more, And o'er mc wept as oft ye tho't, I Life's pilgrimage was o'er. I've wandered many a league, mother, 1 From where we used to dwell; No cherished one is near me now, Of those I loved so well; But oft my weeping heart returns i Across the foaming sea, To where thy precious relics lie, And there it weeps for thee. 1 i I %\\ Original Storg. : i Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. ISABEL; OR, THE LOST CHILD. BV A LADY OF LAURENS, S. C. 1 It was rather early when Carl Berellie ( called the next evening, and the servant j who met and ushered him into the parlor, , told him that the ladies were not ready.? The parlor was but dimly lighted, and he ] sat in the recess of the chimney upon a divan. He had not been seated long before Averilla came in to procure some flowers for a bouquet. She did not know that he had arrived. Taking a vase from the mantle she began arranging a bouquet, and Carl was just rising from the divan to speak to her as Flora came in. She was not in party trim, and Carl was so surprised at that as to remain silent. Averilla, looking at Flora, said "why Flora, are you not going to the party?" "Howcan I Averilla? mamma is very sick, and one of us should remain with her."? Well, I shall not, for I do not believe she is sick. If she had her new head-dress, she g would have gone, but because she was disap- j pointed she is sick, and I will not stay, for she is a hypocrite any how." " Averilla, you have not seen mama to day; she is really sick, why don't you go now and judge for yourself?" "I have not the time to spare; so Flora, present my compliments to her, ( and say that I will come up to see her to c morrow;" and skipping out of the room she 1 was gone. Flora sighed and followed her. * Carl took up his hat and glided noislessly out of the house, thinking he would go to 1 the party alone; but he recollected that he 2 had promised to call for Averilla, and he ! was afraid she would think strange of his conduct, so he went back to Judge Harpers. ! Edgar met him at the door, and told him J the ladies were waiting on him. He offered his arm to Averilla, and then percevingthat Flora was not present, he asked if she was 1 not going. Averilla said she believed not. ' Carl was not himself that uight, and 1 Averilla noticed his silent abstracted manner, ' but could not account for it. He several i_ T-i .L _ * nines saiu tie wussorry riora was not at iue ' party, and Averilla at last accounted for his |' moody silence. She thought, and upon his I' next sorrowful ejaculation, 141 am sorry Flora did not come?she would have enjoy- 1 ed it so much," Averilla made an answer by saying, " Flora would have come, but she did not get her new dress, and she is very willful and proud, and although I told her she had several dresses that would answer, she would not come." Carl looked into the face of the beautiful heartless, and could it be possible that she was a deceiver too. Alas! he knew she was telling an untruth, but she ! did not even blush. He was more silent still, and was really releived when he left the false girl at her father's door. He did not go back to Judge Harper's again for several days, and when he did, he carried a young man along to entertain Averilla while he conversed with Flora; and whenever he went he took along some one. It was not long before he had the happiness of pressing Flora to his bosom, his promised bride; and with the sanction of her parents they were married before the family left New Orleans x for their country seat. Averilla was as angry and mortified asshe * could be, to think of Flora's cutting her out, when she had tried so hard, and was sure of success. She was unhappy, but Carl Berellie and his beautiful bride were as happy as she was miserable. Judge Harper said the young couple should stay at Roseville until ^ winter, and then Carl was to take his bride ~ home to Havana and introduce her to his f family. Durinz the spriu<r, Mrs. DeVere noticed _ Edgar's fondness for Isabel and became alarmed. Taking her daughters hand one day she led her in the park aud questioned * her with regard to Edgar. Isabel blushingly confessed her love for her haudsome cousin?told her mother that he had never spoken his love, but she felt sure she was beloved in return. Mrs. DeVere warned her against lavishing her love in vain, andgiviug her heart unsought, unwon. Edgar who was strolling in the park heard the last sentence and coming up with them asked who was the person Mrs. DeVere spoke of as loving and not being loved. Mother and daughter were confused, but from his inquiry they knew their conversation had not been heard?only the latter part. Mrs. DeVere told Edgar that she had only been giving Isabel aiittle maternal counsel. "It isunI necessary to give her any advice with regard to love aunt, for I am afraid she is proof against it." "Oh! no, Edgar, all arc subject to love, the arrows of the little God Cupid fly in all directions, and pierce, at some time or other, every heart." Edgar told i Isabel to take his arm. She was pnle, and trembled so she could hardly walk. She did so almost unconsciously. In a bend of the walk they met Judge Harper, who, taking Mrs. DeVere, led her off to show her some improvements he was having made. When alone, Edgar, turning to Isabel, said "lie thought his aunt should have given bioi her advice upon that subject, for he ceded it more thau his fair cousin." He felt the fairy haud tremble within his arm, and saw the averted face blush crimson, and guessing the cause, he poured forth his love in burning aud passionate words. His only answer was a look full of love and tenderness, and claspingthe trembling girl to his throbbing heart, inurmered his thankfulness for so princeless a gift as the heart that beat responsive to his own; and as it was nearly night he led Isabel to tbe house, telling her he would see her mother the next day. Mrs. DeVere told Edgar that he had her consent provided his parents were willing. Edgar, with a bounding heart and light step, sought his father, and told him every thing. The old Judge looked surprised and thoughtful, but at last he spoke.? "Edgar, your mother will never consent.? You know her pride and prejudices?how she has always spoken of aud looked upon Isabel; but you can see her, and if she is willing, I will make no objection." Edgar next sought his mother. She stormed and raved, and said "she knew it would be the case, and if he wished to bring her grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, he could marry the actress, and, leave her to aer fate. Her consent, indeed! No, he should never have that." Edgar left the room feeling more misera Die than ever before. What to do he did aot know?or how to tell Isabel of his mother's foolish pride In this mood he ought Carl, and told hira all. Carl prorais;d to seek Mrs. Harper and try to gain her jonsent, for straDge to say, Carl always had nore influence with this proud woman than ier husband or her son Carl reasoned the :ase with Mrs. Harper several times; he old her that Edgar's whole heart was bound lp in Isabel?that his future happiness dejended upon marrying her?that Isabel was ivery way worthy of his devotion?and begged Mrs. Harper to think well, before she eparated two suchworthy and deserving perons, who loved each other so devotedly, ust for a little foolish pride. Mrs. Harper ifter a great deal of persuasion finally coniented Mrs. DeVcre and Isabel were iuformed by Edgar of his parent's consent, but neither >f them for one moment suspected the diffi:ulty which had been surmounted, or the >bjections which had been quieted before hat consent was given. The next fall, Edgar and Isabel were narried, and with Avarilla, accompanied Carl ind his young wife to Havana. Judge Harder again moved down to the city, and with Mrs. DcVcre, went down to the boat to see he young folks off". On board of this boat, Mrs. DeVcre was astonished to fiud Phillip. rT . 1 3 : J Lie was aengniea to see ner, anu promiseu tier to take good care of Miss Isabel upon the journey, and when he came back with the boat upon which he was employed, he tvould huut her up and tell her all that had K-curred since they had parted. After a pleasant trip and visitofsix weeks, the young folks came back to New Orleans. Ihey did not come back in the same vessel they went in, but it was not long before Phillip came and gave himself up to his mistress. She told him he was free, but he would Dot accept of his freedom, prefering to live and serve her the balenceof his days. He told her that he would not have gone back to St. Domingo, but he thought of his poor blind mother, and he went back to take care of her; but she did not live long, and he left the Island as soon as she died, for he was looked upon with suspicion aDy how, so be was told. Since that time, he had been employed by different captains of vessels to help at first one thing and then another on board. Mrs. DcYere told him every thiog that had happened to her siuce she saw him. lie seemed very much affected at hearing of his masters death, and told his mistress that she must let him live with her and do all he could to help her, now that she was left without a husband and nearly penniless. She fiually consented, aud Philip became an inmate of the family, not in the capacity of a servant exactly, but as a head butler?one whom all the family liked and respected for what he had done. Mrs. Harper, whose health had been declining for some time, gradually grew worse, and at last she died very suddenly. None of her family were present at the, last sad moment except her husband. The family grieved her loss sincerely, for although a proud, overbearing woman, yet in her family, she was kind and pleasaut?almost too indulgent with her ehildreu. Her loss created a void in the family circle. Noue missed her like her husband. He looked lost aud lonely. After hismother'sdeath, Edgar purchased a house in the city, and went to house keeping. Mrs. DeVere went with them. Carl and Flora took Judge Harper's house in the city, and Averilla went with her father to Iioseville?so that the family was broken up. Averilla passed part of her time with each one During her absence the Judge was very lonesome, and he thought if she were to marry, he would be worse off still, so after a suitable time had elapsed, he thought he would marry himself, for fear she might leave him some day. He could think of no one who would suit him so well as Mrs. DeVere. When he first mentioned the subject to her she was surprised, and requested time. They knew each other intimately, but still she would like to think about it awhile. They were married, and left New Orleans for Koseville. All of the family liked the match very much except Averilla. She never liked Mrs. DeVere, as an au nt; and she felt sure she would like her still less as a mother. She could not help repining at her own lot when she looked at the rest of: her family married and living so happily together, while she was alone?and alone she lived and died. Those who would have her she would not think of having; and those whom she would have accepted, never addressed her. She did not live to be old? her temper wore out her frail, delicate frame. She died as she had lived, fretting and complaining to" the last. The whole family heaved a sigh of relief as the corpse was borne to its final resting place, not that she was unloved, but that there was an end of all care and trouble to her upon earth. Thinking that our readers would like to know whether Talula succeeded in her object by sending Isabel away, we will stop in Florida upon our way home to dear old South Carolina, and find out if we can, something about our Indian friends. Before we take a final leave of our heroine, let us pay her a parting visit. "Well! I declare, there sits Edgar looking so handsome and young, with a large bouncing boy on his knee : and there stands Isabel smiling and happy ! Farewell Isabel, farewell Edgar?may you be happy," and placing one hand upon their baby's head; who wonderingly looks up in our face, we say, "God bless the little one, and peace be with this household, farewell!" We next visit Carl Berellie and Flora.? They are sitting side by side upoD the door . step, while a little girl is tottering about upon the green sward in front of thero. They look perfectly happy and contented. Wishing them a happy old age, we ptiss on to ! Roseville. There sits the Judge and his really fine looking wife upon the piazza. Phillip has brought in a large water-melon and laid it upon the bench. It looks very ripe and ! tempting, and as the Judge cuts a piece 1 and hands to his lady, we are almost per- 1 suaded to stay and partake with them of one of the greatest luxuries of the summer sea- ' son, but time flies, and we must be gone. We are once more upon the bounding sea, ' on board a fairy craft, with imagination at \ the helm, our faces homeward turned.? Landing upon the coast of Florida we find ' ourselves ouce more at the wigwam of Talu- ! la. She is not there. A large fierce look- ( ing Indian related to us the fate of Talula, ' and Oswingo he never came back to the wig- ' warn to see Talula after he left to search for Isabel, but continued his weary search from j day to day and from one end of the country ^ to the other. . In such a mind as Oswingo's, grief like all other emotions, was tempestuous. In Isa- ' bel he had garnered up all his heart, and ' now that she was gone, the remembrauce of ' her beauty and her many expressions of regard which might have ripened into love, clung to him, and was gradually sinking him ! down, down, into darkness and death. He ! was found one day lying in the woods by a party of Indian hunters. Wearily, and with a painful expression, Oswingo raised himself upon his elbow.? ' "I am going," he said, "I am going whence j there is no return. Will you, brave warriors, promise to grant my last request ?" They 1 all promised that they would. "Me, then, me shall you bury thus. Not with lamentations?not with cowardly fear ?not with sorrow?not with womanish tears, j but with lighted torch and to the music of the war whoop. Death is upon me?the , it _ t . i. j.: j_ i ureat spirit cans me?i iuusi go, 10 mm uu I submit." i These were the last words he spoke. H? ; died just at sun down, and by the time the preparations for obeying Oswingo's last re- ( quest were completed, it was already midnight. They had procured several canoes, j in one of which they placed the corpse as he j had desired, then lighting their torches they sprang into the canoes, and after getting , some distance from the land they stopped, and then might be heard the Indian war whoop startling the wild beasts and Indians of the forest for leagues around. There was a pause?a deep, deep pause?a sullen splash ?and every torch was instantly extinguished. The warrior had sank to his last home. Telula and Oswingo had been separated upon earth, but in death they were not divided, for blending with that wild cry which sounded upon the midnight air was heard a splash. Telulaand Oswingo were re-united, and their bodies now rest together beneath the waters of the deep blue Ocean. The Indian who narrated the tragic story was one of the hunters who aided at the burial of Oswingo. Our story is told, and you and I, kind reader, uow must part. If the perusal of it has amused or interested you, and served to enliven an otherwise idle or lonely hour, the writers end has been accomplished. "Fare tbecwell dear reader, 'tis our common lot To meet?to separate?and be forgot." Immorality of our Public Men.? i Suicides amoung public men are becoming alarmingly common. Texas has become peculiarly distinguished in this way. In one short year, her favorite son, Gen. Thomas J. Rusk, and the last President of the Republic, Dr. Anson Jones, have taken their own lives. Gen. Henderson, the recently I olodtod ciipppssinr nf ! ? 11 <slr_ is rnnfined tn his j bed,and, in all probability, will never take ! his seat in the United States Senate. The j brilliant and generous Bowdcn has gone to an untimely grave. The bowl?the festive bowl?the flower wreathed bowl?the beauty-sanctioned bowl?the customary bowl? is the cause of all this ! Arc the leaders of our parties, theheadsofour political conventions, our legislators, going, forever, to nominate and elect drunkards for the highest offices iu the land, and thus bring shame upon the country, a blot upon our history, and blushes to the faces of our posterity for the political immorality of their fathers? The public conscience aud the public honor are becoming burdened with these things. Are they going to continue ? Are there any rlriinlrnrfls nmnnir the nominations recently ~ O - y placed before the people? They wish to know.?Texas Chris. Advocate. lilkcllancmts Rafting THE ART OF PRINTING. To no one art is the world so much indebted for its present advancement as to that of Printing, and we have thought that a short sketch of its history might prove interesting to our readers. Letter Press Printing was invented in 1440 by John Guttcniberg, in Mayence on the Rhine. Long before this, however, different means were made use of to make impressions. They approached so nearly to printing that it is a matter of some wonder that the art was not discovered at an earlier day. For instance, the Hebrews, Greeks and Romans, used to cast or cut seals and sealings, with which they made impressions on soft substances, or with paint. The latter people had stamps cut, which were used in the place of signatures to official and other documents. In the 12th century Xylographic printing or the art of cutting in wood, had attained i high degree of perfection in Germany.? Passages from the Bible were printed in this manner. The Chinese, as far back as 1084, B. C., were acquainted with Xylograpic printing, but the Japanese claim the merit of the invention. The process which they adopted, was to write on paper with red ink, glue the paper on a plate of soft wood, and moisten it. After allowing it to dry, tney separated the paper from the wood by wiping it with a sponge, leaving the characters reserved on the wood. They then cut the wood from a- , round the letters which were thus left prom- ( inent. The Emperor Fanti had a book print- i 3d in this way as early as A. D. 605. The real art of printing?that is, the employment of moveable, separate letters, as in the present types?is unquestionably due to John Guttemberg, born in Mayence in 1397. i Soon after coming of age, he removed to Strasbourg, where he followed the craft of "tone-cutting and polishing mirrors. Soon lfterwards, however, he conceived the idea | )f making improvements in the printing art, , lud commenced his experiments on as ex- ( :ended a scale as his means would allow. He , it first used wooden plates, and in 1424 ( printed the A B C plates. His resources, however, soon failed, and he was compelled j to leave Strasbourg?not, however, until he had successfully carriea out his early con- , jieved idea of using moveable letters made )f wood, with which he printed Gcsta Chris- j ft, and other works. We next hear from him in Mentz, in 1449, J where he continues his experiments on sin- ( ;le letters. His fortune was wholly exhaust3d, but with the perseverance of true genius , he still endeavored to push forward. Acci- ^ lentmadehim acquainted with a rich gold- , smith in Mentz,an Englishman,by the name of John Faust, who, becominginspired with the pictures drawn by the ardent enthusiast, and hoping himself to benefit by the important i rlisenverv. lent his name and means, and in j / ' ? 1449 these two persons established the first i typographical press of which we have any i lccount. From this time improvements were i made in rapid succession. At first Guttcm- ! berg used raetalic letters of a mixture of lead i and tin, but in 1452 they commenced cast- i ing their types. The printing press and ink ] improved part passu, and the world saw the ? dawn of the light, which was to illuminate i its path towards knowledge and science. i In the next year, Guttemberg having i charge of the printing house, commenced the i publication of the Bible in Latin. Twelve < sheets had been prepared, when the partners ' rjuarreled. Faust sued Guttemberg and ob- I tained possession of the whole aparatus, with j which he continued successfully to print Bibles and other works. The Bibles he sold at i Paris, for sixty and finally for fifty gold gilders?their former price having been 400 to i 500 gilders. The good people of France, : unable to see how a thing could be at the i same time good and cheap, speedily resolved that Faust had connection with the Evil One, and he was compelled to leave; subsequently he returned there, and in 14G6 died of the plague. After which, Schoeffer, the son-in-law of Faust, continued the printing on his own account. Guttemberg was again reduced to poverty; hut in 1456 he succeeded in starting a press in Mentz, and published some important works. He continued thereafter still improving in his work until his death, in 1468, when his press and type was delivered over to his partner. The workmen of Mentz soon spread the new art over the world, and before the end of that century booksbecarae abundant, and presses were established in most of the capitals of Europe. Thus the great engine of mental improvement in the world, grew from infancy to maturity, in the short space of half a century. Unaided by the patronage of princes and kings that power sprung up, which was destined to crush all tyrants. The day dawned which was to teach the people of the world that their rulers were created by them?not they by their rulers. The treasures of knowledge were made free to all, and all were en G ablcd to press forward in the race of intellectual advancement. If you would have an idea of the ocean in a storm, just imagine ten thousand hills and four thousand mountains all drunk, chasing one another over newly ploughed ground, with lots of caves in it for them to step into now and then. INCIDENT OF THE REVOLUTION. A circumstance occurred during the gloomy winter of 1770-7, which has not found its way into histories, but which we copj from a late number of the Democratic Review. It was one among the many during the Revolution, which appeared to be providential allotments in our favor. The writer received the account of it from a son of Richard H. Lee, and from Francis Lightfoot Lee, who were members of Congress, and were in Philadelphia at the time.? These gentlemen were accustomed to mention it as a providential interferenc in behalf of their country. When General Washington was retreating through the Jerseys in the winter of 1776-7, and had crossed the Deleware, his i-_j __J L_.ii.i_ i?i it'uu auu uuueit* uuu ueariy imieu , uuu nc would be unable, without a considerable supply, to make the brilliant and successful movements which recovered New Jersey, and reinspired the country with new hope and confidence in their Commander-in Chief. In this darkest hour of the war Congress had made every effort to supply the so-muchneeded article. All the lead that could be found in public and private places had been obtained. Lead pipes bad been melted and the plates torn from the roofs of houses; but still a small quantity only could be obtained. Just then in the darkest moment of despondency, Robert Morris, who has been called the "financier" of the Revolution, and whose extensive credit and mercantile transactions in Europe, and whose unflinching devotion to his country, has laid that country under never-ceasing obligations, received a letter from one of his ships which had escaped the British cruisers?informing him that the vessel was within the capes, and would reach Philadelphia at such a time, i and was ballasted with lead, and amounting to a very large quantity. This letter the i patriotic Morris?for such we delight to call him?received late in the day, and after i Congress had adjourned. He joyously informed the members he could see before morning. Early the next morning, Morris and many members repaired to the wharf anxiously looking out for the expected vessel. For some time she did not appear.? The members repaired to the hall with saddened countenances, and on the assembling of the House, the letter of Morris was read, and the looked-for supply was eagerly expected. Morris was too anxious to remain in his seat in the House, and he returned to the wharf, straining his eyes down the river At length the goodly vessel heaves in sight, and her owner recognizes the stars and stripes. The news spreads rapidly through (he city and reaches Congress, and a scene i of joyful emotion instantly succeeds, and ! the hearts of these glorious, beloved men, i 3end up to heaven their greateful thanks- i giving, for the relief about to be received in 1 the hour of despair. i TVin etiin nrrinmt /.n/Z/lc/n/t irtfh 7fin/7 X lie DkJiJJ U1II VVVIj VWI twuvuw w ??(t kvv*wj which the Captain of his own apparent will, I (but as our fathers piously believed, by the 1 leading of a good Providence,) had for the 1 first time, resolved to use for the purpose.? ] By God's overruling providence the vessel < escaped the perils of storm and capture, and i arrived at the exigent moment; a large sup- I ply of lead was immediately obtained, and 1 cur great Commander re-crossed the Delaware, and saved our country.?L^'.isvillc 1 Democrat. i ***** i An Incident at Lucknow.?A letter ( received from Calcutta December 19th, from ( an American at port, says: "The English i soldiers fight well, and give no quarter to ] the Sepoys. In a recent conversation with , a gentleman who has just returned from Lucknow, he informed us that the natives aie ] exceedingly superstitious, and as an illustra- ] tion, he related an anecdote : Apart of the , force at the recent battle of Lucknow was ( composed of sailors from the English menof-war, who compose the naval brigade. Du- , ring the battle, which lasted several days, ( they were busily engaged at their guns, and ] to facilitate their labors, built fires near their ] pieces, and cooked their bullocks, while they ( kept their guns at work all the time. The Sepoys noticed their fires, and asked an En- ] glish prisoner what they were intended for. | lie informed them that the sailors were all ] cannibals, and that they were cooking the , prisoners as fast as they took them, and he t added that the Highlanders were much worse, ( as they ate human beings raw. This account caused such consternation that the Sepoys , commenced their flight, and was the means J by which the English sailors were enabled to kill three thousand of them." What Fools We Are !?It is sad com- , raentary upon the folly of man, that a country so great and glorious as this, should ( be threatened with destruction by her own j inhabitants. The history of the world pre- , sents us no account of any nation whose constitution and laws were equal to ours in ^ securing to man the liberties which the God | of nature designed he should enjoy, yet , there is a spirit of fanaticism that would involve us in sudden ruin, though liberty depart, and the night of woe settle upon us.? , The signs are at present ominous, and we apprehend that we are approaching the pe- , riod when the dormant patriotism of the Repulic will awake for her salvation, or the , reckless fanaticism that now prevails com- , plete her overthrow.?Dalton (Geo.) Times. Distressing Occurrence.?We are pained to announce a sad and distressing 1 occurrence which took place near Camden on last Friday afternoon. Thomas J. With- ! ers, Jr., eldest son of the Judge, whilest riding up the Kirkwood road, his horse be- 1 ? ^"11 J ***An ^liwAmn n/Minof q rQfl ' IU^ Ut 1UII SpCCUy *rao imunu a^aiuou n v*vw on the side of the road dreadfully injured, ' both legs broken above the knees and his body severely bruised. His condition is very critical.? Camden Journal. 1 A lady cowhided a gentleman in the < streets of Richmond, Va., a few days since. 1 It was a new edition of the volume of her af- < feotious, profusely illustrated with cuts. 1 Col. A. H. McCluno?His Suicide.? w There is not, we presume, a single inaD in g the South who has cot heard of Col. Mc- n Clung. We picked up an exchange this al morning and found the following Ode to Death by this great man, which is certainly the most noble chauut of a manly sorrow.? 82 Col. McCluug was known as a duelist, hav- 61 ing killed as many as four men, we believe, 11 in duels. Notwithstanding his chivalry and n intrepidity, he was gentle as a child. With the ferocity of a tiger he combined the 11 generosity of a lion; with the daring of an S' eagle he united all that is great in man.? c] He walked the earth like a Titan, but left behind him many an able characteristic.? He wore a noble heart, full of tender gene- w rosity. ai McClung had genius of the first order? " was honored, loved, and almost worshipped 18 by a host of friends. Wearied of life, dia- 11 appointed and satiated, he wed the embraces w of death, and, with the hope of being slain, ai he enlisted in the Mexican war. His gal- ai lantry on the battle-field at Monterey is ?1 VnrtTOn fn nil Ha waq sArinnslv wnnnded. a ~ J ; but death came Dot to his relief. AtBuena 01 Vista he was carried on a litter to the battle- ^ field and exposed his life again?but Death Cl still eluded him and refused to recognize his w earnest votary. Despairing of finding death " on the battle-field, he returned to Mississip- a: pi, and lived until life became a burden to al him, and then committed suicide by blowing * out his own brains. 11 A few months before his death he wrote the following lines, overflowing with vocal and rythmical liquidity. It is the melody ei of despair?the last lay of the minstrel.? P' As has already been remarked by our friend Posey, the swan, under the instinctive pre- 11 sentiment of death, siogs its own dirge, and 18 the vigor of death lends inspiration and a sweetness to its song. Like the dying swan, c< poor dying McClung sung his own sweet and beautiful invocation: P Swiftly speed o'er the waves of time, ^ Spirit of Death! In manhood's morn, in youthful prime, I woo thy breath ! g For the fading hues of hope have fled Like the dolphin's light, And dark are the clouds above my head h; As the starless night! ei Oh! vainly the voyager sings for the rest Of the peaceful haven? , di The pilgrim saint for the homes of the blest tl And the calm of Heaven ! The galley-slave for the night wind's breath, At thS burning noon! bi But more gladly I'll spring to thy cold arms, sc Death come soon! g Memphis Advocate. An Arkansas Father's Advice to his . Son.?Bob, you are about leaving home for strange parts. You're going to throw me out of the game and go it alone. The odds l? flirainRt. vnn. T?nh. but. rompmhor fllwavfl -p, j , 7 v that industry and perseverance are the winning cards; they are the 'bowers.' Book laming, and all that sort of thing, will do to Jj1 511 up with, like small trumps, but you must ' have the bowers to back 'em, else they ain't worth shucks. If luck runs against you 88 pretty strong, don't cave and look like a sick P1 :hicken on a raiuy day, but hold your head up and make believe you are flush of trumps; w they won't play so hard again you. I've a lived and traveled around some, Bob, and m I've found out as soon as folks thought you ei held a weak hand, they'll all back again you J1 strong. So, when you're sorter weak, keep 1D up a bold front, but play cautious; be satisBed withap'int. Many's the h?nd I've seen __ suchred 'cause they played for too much.? , Keep your eyes well skinned, Bob; don't g let 'em ?nig' on you; recollect the game lays j, is much with the head as with the hands.? ]Q Be temperate; never get drunk, for then no ^ matter how good your hand, you won't know ^ how to play it; both bowers and the ace ^ won't save you, for there's sartin to be a ^ 'miss-deal' or something wrong. And anDther thing, Bob, [this was spoken in a low tone,] don't go too much on the women, j-j queens is kinder poor cards; the more you . have of 'em, the worse for you; you might have three, and nary a trump I don't say j discard 'em all; if you get hold of one that's ij a trump, it's all good, and there's sartin to ? be one out of four. And above all, Bob, be w honest; never take a man's trick wot don't j belong to you, nor 'slip' cards, or ?nig,' for ?e then you can't look your man in the face, and when that's the case there's no fun in ^ the game; it's regular 'cutthroat.' So now, t Bob, farewell; remember wot I tell you, and u, mi l- a. j :c j ?a yuu ji ue aure iu wiu, uuu 11 juu uuu t, q ?arves you right if you get 'skunked.'? Qj Farewell. yj ? Can't Touch a Nigger."?Under ai this head a contemporary pertinently says: <? One of the most striking illustrations of the utter hollowness of the Black Repub- ^ lican sympathizers with negro race, that has ever fallen under our observation, occurred very recently in this city. A professional rfi gentleman was called upon to perform a ^ slight surgical operation upon a darkey j he gc said, ?I am a thorough-going Abolitionist, jD but I can't touch a nigger." So also, when the poor slave Simms, about whom half New England and the whole "British philanthropy" went into fits and convulsions, got back to Boston, he c wandered up and down the streets, starving ;u and penniless, seeking work and finding none 8t among the shrieking and devout Abolition- jn ist, among the righteous riflemen of that vicinity, because even they could not 'touch q, a nigger,' except through the medium of j0 Bleeding Kansas, patent firearms and red 8U petticoats. And that game is still kept up. 0f The worst slave-driver that ever disgraced q, the South would not be guilty of such hyp- p? ocritical inhumanity. It is not even paying a decent respect to the universal Christian ^ maxim; tnai " ?ne mercnui man is merci- b, ful to his beasc." And yet we have religi- 8j( ous and political organizations, claiming a monopoly of 'all the decency' in the conntry j and the' civilized world, based upon the worst Y features of those detestable pretensions, and c and seekin? to rule or ruin the country ao- in ooxdiaglyj beww Chartism heroes, who * orship Sambo in public, 'can't touch a nero,' and won't be honest toward their own ice or nation. What sneaking and abominble impostors. "Pitching In."?The greatest of all nuitnces, to a respectable editor, arc these nall-minded gentry who believe that the lission of a journal is not to disseminate cws, and aid buyers and sellers by adversements, but to be perpetually "pitching 1" to this subject or that subject; more enerally into this or that individual. Such haracters are generally very loud and talkave specimens of the genu* irritabile, prone ) hint that they could carry on a journal ith all its difficult details much better than uybody else in the country; that they would stir up things," and that their firm belief i, that all a paper needs is "pepper" to lake it excellent. We can imagine, as we rite, that we even now hear the familiar jcents: "Now I just vant you to write a article and give so and so fits"?for men f this description are generally gifted with degree of assurance which respects no duty r dignity, and suffers the possessor to believe aat his miserable fancies will actually recive consideration. And yet we can say ith truth that we never met with one of lese advocates for indiscriminate "pepper" od abuse, who would not writhe with agony t the faintest allusion to himself in tvD? * I hich fell short of flattery, or who was not 1 fact a coward. Men who put faith in abuse as a necessaj element in journalism, who take no interst in articles which are not in some way ersonal, and who relish no "fun," unless it its, are invariably vulgar and selfish, just i proportion to the degree in which such istes prevail with them. It is melancholy, owever, to see the number of them in every immunity, and the degree to which they Ften succeed in inspiring writers for the ress with their own spirit.?Philadelphia Uilletin. \ - > Good Joke on a Widower.?A wagish correspondent tells the following, and ouches for its truth. It is the best joke we ave heard lately: It appears that a widowr in this town, of somewhat gallant dispotion, had been accustomed to visit the resience of the widow ; whether to see le amiable widow herself, or her daughters, lr informant did not know. One evening e found the family party hard at work on >tre garments of oloth. The girls were swing, and the widow was pressing the seams, he widower hung up his hat, as usual, and 10k his seat by the fire; just at that moment happened that the widow had done with te pressing iron, (vulgo, a tailor's goose.) he sat it down on the hearth and called to er negro man in a loud voice, "Jake, Jake, >me and take out this goose." The widver started up with astonishment, not know* ig what to make of this abrupt order.? Jake, do you hear me ?" again exclaimed le widow. "I beg your pardon, Mrs. iid the widower, with visible agitation, "but ray don't call Jake?if you wish me to ave your house, I will go at once, and ithout the interference of servants." The dies roared with laughter, and it took some omenta to explain to the chagrined widow his mistake. He has not been known to sit tbe widow since that memorable even's _ Peculiar Properties of Phosphorus. -It is now just two hundred years since bosphorus was first obtained by Brand, of [amburg So wonderful was the discovery ten considered that Kranf. an eminent nhi sopher of the day, gave Brand three lunred dollars for the secret of its preparation, [rapt then traveled and visited nearly all le Courts of Europe, exhibiting phosphorus i Kings and Nobles. In appearance the -tide resembles beeswax, but is more transient, approaching to the color of amber, a name, which is derived from the Greek, gnifies "light bearer," and is indicative of b most distinguishing quality, being selfiminous. When exposed to the airit shines ke a star, giving out a beautiful lambent, reenish light. Phosphorus dissolves in arm sweet oil; and if this phosphorized 1 be rubbed over the face in the dark the latures assume a ghastly appearance. The rigin of phosphorus is the most singular ict concerning it. Every other known enhance can be traced to either earth or air; lit phosphorus seems to be of animal origin, if all animals, man contains the most; and f the various parts of the body, the brain ields, by analysis, more phosphorus than ly other. Depth op the Atlantic.?Lieut. Berrman in his recent expedition to make tlantic soundings, by direction of the gov'nment, succeeded in sonding a depth of iur miles, the greatest depth ever reliably iported. Ge also established the singular ct of a regularly decreasing in the deepest mndings from 10 to 20 degrees below fireezig point. This phenomenon is yet unac\nntod fnr tTiA r?vanaa Vioinnr fha noaa si /MUbww VMW tw f V*WV WWiUg VUV VUUV HU e penetrate the earth. Bad Liquor.?We need not go so far as alifornia to find liquor which oreates delir>tn tremens and suicide, but the following tows that the "liquor" which is imbibed i the golden State must be pretty rough : The police lately seized a quantity of liior kept for sale at several drinking saons. The brandy was colored with burnt igar, and contained one sixteenth of a giain ' sulphate of morphine to every ounce of lilor. The gin was composed of forty-seven irts of spirits and fifty-three of water, with dash of sulphurio acid. The whiskey oonined strychnine and- creosote. The apple andy contained, among other poisons, pro* 0 acid. W The Boston correspondent of the New . ork Times says that John C. Fremont <ng a recent visit to Boston " intimated 1 unmistakable terms that he means to be candidate for Resident io WW."