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- ' *" * ? - ' ' ^ ^ "**' ^ . . ^ * ^V" ^ ^ ' ^ . '" ^ ^ ^ ^ * ' ' -' '^ -! . ^-: j. j_ ' " ?j^r --, . *? . , i'" 11 . " .' , ,.a ? '.V!1 ... ..V i.. n . 1 . > . J.iu.u'J * sijri ir. imtok, Editor t / * ^n independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social,.Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. - I$a pe* A**VMrflf iwiw i LEWIS M. O&IST, ProprieUr. j , r ;, .. 'j.- ~ ^ - _ ?f.^ ,- .: -. * v- ' VOT,^ " YORKVILLE, S. C? THURSDAY; JANUARY 6,1859, 7 ^NFCX 1. v/aj? v* . ; ? : ? ? ?n-rfr? *? &j}t?0rMj$nqirirtr r. f.' ? -) ,r'. . $ : - . ,; r- ISSUED EVERY THURSDAY MOBNIEG, ' ' AT . Tw? Ml*n per year, in Advanee. IX COPIES. >10 501 TEN COPIES, $15 06, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. " ' ADVE KTI8EMENTS Will bo inserted at OXK DOLLAR per square for tlio first, and thmty-SKVEN-AND-a-HALr Ce.vts for each subsequent Insertion (L>s than three month*.) A Square consists of the space occupied by 12 lines of Brevier type; 100 words, tr ONKI3CH ANtWA HALT space. Ko Advertisement counted less than a square. , Peuri-Monthly, Monthly, or Quarterly Advertisement*, fil be charged ONE Doll tit per square for each Insertion. .For Advertising Betray* Tolled, 02; to be paid by the WagIgtmU. Citations, 82; tn be paid-in advance by the person applying. Notices of Application to the Legislature, 6.1; to paid ey the person handing In the advertisement. Insolvent Debtors Notice, 88; payable in advance. Attachment Notlcee, 86; to be paid for "by the Attorney In the case. Business Cards, of a half-square or less, will be inserted at ft per year. For each additional unr, ei. jy Obituary Notices exceeding one square in length, will be charged for the overplus at regular advertising rates. - ^ Tribute* of Respect rated as advertisement*. r1^ Announcement* of Marriages or Deaths: Notices of Religious or Temperance Meetings published fiitATis and solicited. AU Advertisements not having the number of insertions marked on the margin, will be continued nnrtl lorbid and charged accordingly. tjf* Quarterly, Semi-Aanual or Yearly obntrncts w ill be made on liberal terms?the contracts, however, must in all cases be eonilned to the Immediate business of the firm or individual contracting. ' VPtrtoaal Communications, when admissible; communications of limited or individual interest, or recommendation* of Candidates for office* of honor, profit or trust, will be charged for at from 3 to 10 cents per line. j|ti #ripal Sforjr'. Written for the Yorkrffle Enqnirer. A LICE fllS?l? BY TIM ON. ??? It was in the midst of the gay season ip Hie little town of L . Tbe Christinas holiday# were approaching, every one seemed fail of life and gayety, and parties and balls ere of almost nightly occurrence. The (neroing after one of these entertainments, 1 i? an apartment, the furoitore and grrangettents of which were strikingly in keeping With the character of the occupants, there sat Uro young men. Harry Wentworth, the younger of the two, was, or pretended to be, siuflont of law: But believing implicitly in Pope's maxim a little altered, that "the proper study of mankind is woman," he acted upon it with a conscientiousness which would bave dose credit to some who profess to be guided by parer and more exalted rules of action. Indeed, so scrupulously did he adhere to this maxim, that the fair subjects of bwpereevering'study sometimes misconstrued his actions, aud'Jctuany accused htai of being influenced by other motives than the tnere love of truth ; in short, he was called a flirt. While, therefore, Harry made the most wonderful progress in his kuowledgeof the fairer portion of humanity, this proficiency was attained to the great neglect of Blackstone, Kent and other learned limbs of the law, whose professed disciple be was. Could these great jurists have seen with what alacrity their works, the offspring of a lifetime of intellectual labor, were cast aside at the soft sound of a female voice, to watch the twinkle of a bright eye, to follow the movements of fairy feet through the mazes of the dance, or to listeo to the stupid nonentities that constitute the bulk of the conversation at fashionable entertainments, they would 1 - ? P ? J bttve been inspired with the most pruiouuu disgust for the degeneracy of an age in which they were so little appreciated. Whether Horry ever attempted to justify his tardy progress in the prescribed course of study, wc know not; but certain it is that his method of preparation was not so unphilosophical ai most persons would at first-suppose : for in endeavoring thoroughly to understand human nature as developed iu the other sex, may he not after all, have been getting at the very root of the evil ? ' Ernest Graham was an old friend and schoolmate of Wentworth, and the friendship which they had cherished for each other in their boyish days had in do wise diminished when they arrived at man's estate.? They were intimately acquainted with each other's foibles and virtues, and as neither ever hesitated to chide the faults and commend the virtues of his friend, they were of invaluable service to each other in correcting the one and in cherishing the other. Ernest bad come, on the present occasion, as was his almost daily custom, to spend a few hours with his friend, in discussing the various items of Dews, and the topics upon which the public mind of the fowu was most engaged. They were conversing in a rambling, listless manner. Harry with his feet upon a table was enjoying his otium cum (Hgnitate, and Ernest in an easy chair by the fire, was engaged in the truly Yankee practice of whittling, thereby contributing no little to the appearance of the room, already j in a state of the most bachelor-likc disorder. ! Books, papers, kc ,were scattered in every | direction upon chairs, tables, window-sillsand ; floor, the whole presenting a scene of the most beautifal confusion. The conversation had just turned upon * the events of the previous evening, whenthere was a knock at the door and a servant handed in a boquet "for 31 r. Wentworth." The reception of the boquet seemed to infuse new life into Harry ; he seized it eagerly, and poured forth in an enthusiastic strain his admiration of its beauty and fragrance, and the rarity of the hot-house plants of which it was composed; be dilated upon the beauty j of the fairy hands that bad culled the flowers and arranged them with such exquisite taste; ho even wondered if the ruby lips of the giver had oot impressed a fond kiss upon it, which still lingered among the flowers and added to their fragrance. During the exhibition of all this enthusiasm on the part of his friend, Ernest Graham sat regarding bim with a serious and somewhat sorrowful expression of countenance. Disconcerted by the earnest and displeased gaze of his friend, Harry inquired the cause of his displeasure. j "You will, I am sure," replied Ernest, "upon sober reflection, admit that it is enough to make me sad'when'I see you, j who posses talents that might raise you to eminence in yonr profession, wasting so mnch of your precious time in a business which is more .befitting a fool or a madman, and which is alike dishonorable, whether practiced by man or woman. Coquetry, to say the least, is mean and low, and should be beneath the contempt of a man of sense and spirit; and the sooner you abjure the detestable practice, the better for yourself and others. How is it possible Harry, for you, whom I have always found generous, upright aud honorable in all things else, when in the presence of a girl you wish to captivate, to wear smiles whioh are nothing more or less than a cloak for the basest hypocrisy; to affect a devotion which you do not feel, thereby blunting and paralyzing all the finer feelings of your nature; and what is still worse, doing all this with the consciousness that you are trifling wantonly with the peace and happiness of your fellow beings, is what I cannot wholly understand." TTT II 1 __A i.. A ">ven saia, 'most poieur, grove uuu icvcj.end signor!' AH this homily would be very fine if it came from any one but yourself j but I am so unfortunate as to be totally unable to profit by precept without example. Presumptuous isn't it, for you to be indulging in such a tirade against my malpractices ; to be inculcating precepts when your practice has been just the opposite ? You! who have flirted with every girl in the eountry who was worth the trouble, and now to sum up the long list of your misdeeds, are about to commit the most foolish act of your life, by exchanging your state of single blessedness for one of "matrimonial bliss." I say, Ernest, it is we'll enongh for you to look back as you are about to pass the threshold of matrimony, and indulge in such sage reflections. Well, ail the good 1 wish you in return is, that you may always be subject to the terrors of the poker and the broomstick, and that a scolding wife may be continually discoursing in your ears a 'sevenfold chorus of hallelujahs and harping symphonies.'" "And in return for your most christian wish, Harry, I only hope that you may come to regard this matter in the same light that I do. I know that there is a chord in your soul which must respond to the touch of love, and whenever that chord is touched, if not before then, you will acknowledge its existence." "I am by no means incredulous on that poiut even now, and I would not be surprised at any moment to Hud myself 'neaa ana ears' ia love. But you have made an accusation which nothing less than our strong friendship would render you safe in making. 1 utterly deny that 1 ever flirted in my life, and I challenge the proof. Mention a single instance." ' Here is one just in poiot; who sent you that boquet this morning?" "Miss Landon, whom I met at Mrs. B's last night." "And with whom you remained most of the evening; to whom you paid tfie most marked attention and who is firmly convinced that you are captivated with her." "If she thinks so it is more her fault than mine; she must have seen that I made her the object of my attentions merely because there was no one else to receive them, except Mary Clayton, who is as ugly as sin, and Amarinta Biair, whose stupid nonsensical, puling scntimentalism, I would rather undergo martyrdom than hear. Besides, Miss Landon is a very fascinating girl; she is so intelligent, and has such a soft, winning voice that I cannot help being attentive when she speaks." "Where are the two Claverings whom yon followed like theirshadow all lastsummer?" "Oh the twins! Well I really did have some idea of fulling in love with one of them ; but I found myself unable to decide which, and as I could not take both, I was compelled to take neither. They were as jealous of-each other as they possibly could be; if I smiled upon one, the other was su.re to pout; if I pressed the htfifl of one, her sister always mustered up a tear for the occasion. Once when I called upon them, unfortunately for me, they occupied seats on opposite sides of the room, and in the attempt to give my whole attention to both, I nearly became cross-eyed for life." "Have you forgotten Miss Mornnt who was your pole star all last Spring?" "By no means; what glorious eyes she had! so large, so bright, and so earnestly expressive that it seemed as if her inmost soul was revealed through them. I always had a curiosity to know if I couldn't see my image reflected in them, as in a lookingglass?" "What has become of Miss Davidson, your college flame?" "Poor Effie ! she was a harmless creature, too good for this rough world ; she had such a pretty name, 1 loved so much to prouounce it, and I loved still more to hear her callmine in that soft, sweet voice of hers. But that voice is no longer heard upon earth, it dow mingles its melody with the seraphic strains of the saints around the throne of God. The lovely flower was too frail for earth, so God transplanted it into a more genial soil; there, it shall know no change, hut shall bloom with perennial beauty in the pure sunlight of heaven." "And do you still remember Lucia BerkIcy, whom you escorted to every ball last | Winter, and with whom you danced all the i fancies and half the quadrilles ?" "llemember her! I guess I.do, and with reason too. She told me once that she would never marry a man who couldn't beat her dancing; who couldn't stand on his head, dance on a rbpe and do various other extraordinary things, and when I attempted to perform some of the feats in question, I came near breaking my neck, very much to her amusement. She could out-dance Terpsichore 1 if j v .1,. nerseu, clliU niicu CUV JJCW tt uuouauu, oilv i* make him dance aloDg the path of life to whatever tune she pleases." "If all these were opt enough I might multiply instances to prove the truth of my accusation. But it ifrlate continued Ernest, i is he rose to leave, anci ^ I have business j which must be dispatched to day. Have you heard of Mrs. Clayton's grand ball which is to take place next week ? It is to be the great event of the season; Several debutantes will make their appearand on that occasion, so you may prepare yourself to be assailed by such an array of bright eyes and smiling faces as you ha*e seldom witnessed." "I must confess that I would be delighted with the idea, if' it was to bo anywhere but at Mrs. Clayton's; fori know the beautiful Mary will, as she always does on such occasions, consider it her peculiar prerogative to bore mc with her delectable company during the whole evening." As Ernest closed the door behind biui, Ilarry began to ponder upon what he had ? :J ?J I. L: if saillj UUU IU ICfjJUiuju unuocn nun hue inuiw his friend had brought to his attention. He began to uiake numberless good resolutions which of coarse would vanish as soon as he was again exposed to temptation. "I wonder," be soliloquized, "if I will ever meet that person, for whom I will be willing to resign all my present enjoyments, whose happiness will be the chief object of my life, and whose love I will prize above all earthly treasures ? My life thus far has been a wayward one; bat if I could once find that good angel who is to be my guide through this world, pointing the way to heaven and to God; who would reward my exertions by her approving smiles; who would sympathise with me iu adversity, and rejoioe with me in prosperity; who would be 'the anchor of my purest thoughts; thennrse, the guide, the guardian of my heartwho would be my companion alike in sickness and in health; and whom 1 I would be bound by every motive of interest and duty, to cherish with the tenderest affection, I feel as if a new life would be 1 awakened within me; I /eel as if there would be no limit to the intensity of the love and devotion that would go forth from my heart, 1 to meet such an object." 1 1 The truth is, Harry was by nature, warmhearted and geuerous in the extreme ; but a 1 considerable acquaintance with, and a little practice of the ways of the world, sufficed to conceal many of those noble attributes with which nature had invested him Let us leave him for the present to the indulgence of his reflections, and turn to other scenes. CHAPTER II. I Alice Vernon was the daughter of a wealthy merchant in the town of L . When ^ scarcely sixteen she had -completed her edu- , cation, and had returned home, for the par- , pose of being initiated into those mysteries ; of fashionable life, a knowledge of which is , considered in this enlightened age, an essential part of female education. Not that , education which teaches them to perform, in , the best manner, all the duties of life; which ( teaches them to act the part which God has , assigned them in the social sphere and the domestic circle; which will make them good ( wives, good mothers and good christians, * an J pTTya^uiicjg.bv the proper improvement , of this present lifo/u>r tBtnuulmucm of uuending happiness in tbo "land of the here- , after." No, not this. But it is a part of that education, which teaches them to use every effort in their power to deaden and M*?AlnrfA tlin m Afif OAAVA/] in T\ pamijfi?C LUC UJUOI imuitu iccnugn ui IUCU u?tars; to regard the heart as a plaything, and life as a play ground; by which they are taught to tamper lightly, not only with their present peace and happiness, but with their eternal well-being; which teaches then to regard others merely as auxiliaries to the attainment of their own selfis"h ends;-andto perform the most important acts cf their lives, with an indifference and utter recklessness of consequences, more becoming lunatics and dreamers than persons in their-. sober senses; which teaches them to regard marriage as a lottery, or only as a refuge from the horrors of old-maidenhood, and to enter into matrimonial alliances merely as matters of convenience, or for the gratification of selfish or amhitious views; often,-and justly rendering their whole future lives oue scene of wretchedness and misery. 'Alice Vernon had no such views of life. She look- 1 ed upon the scene which she was about to ' enter as enchanted ground, and innocently thought that virtue, not vice, was the chief 1 actor there. Furc and guileless by nature, she looked into her own heart for a knowledge of the motives by which the actions of others were governed. She had only seen the sunny side of life?its shadows had seldom fallen across her path ; was it tin natural then, that she should indulge in such fond, childish dreajus of the innocence and beauty of the world around her. Sweet dreamer. Alas! how soon will thy dream of peace be i o'er, and thou awake to the sad, sad reality. The evening of Mrs. Clayton's hall was an cventful'one in the life of Alice Vernon. She was to make her debut in fashionable society on that momentous occasion, and many were the misgivings; thick and fast were the pulsations of her young heart as she again I and again consulted her mirror before setting ] out for the festive scene. And here let us sketch the picture which was reflected in the mirror as she stood before it. Light hair, blue eyes, and a complexion beautifully soft [ aud clear; a mouth and chin that a Grecian j sculptor might have euvied as a model, and i thrown over the whole, an exDression of :3Uch - v... . _ * / - t sweet simplicity and freshness, of such child- : lhke trust and confidence, and such bouyant enjoymeutof life, that it was difficult for the beholder to withhold the verdict of beauti' ful! Dressed with tasteful and elegant simplicity, there was no superfluous jewelry dangling from her ears nor glittering on her arms and fingers; nature bad clothed her in a robe of beauty to. which art could add nothing. With all these attractions of person, i the soul whose dwelling place it was, was J more beautiful still. Mrs. Vernon's heart ! swelled with maternal pride and affection, | wheu she gazed upon her lovely daughter, j as they stood in the parlor previous to setting out for Jlra. Clayton's. On the evening of Mrs. Clayton's ball, the beautiful Mary was in her glory; ejiert iug herself to the utmott to play the.agitable, which to do her jaatice, she always endeavored to do; she recurred the varioas guests as they arrived, jrith a face wrcathe3 in smiles and beaming with good-natured delight. Most of tiro guests hadassembled. Harry Went worth was tftjeady there. Maty had not been as yet at to bestow upon him mnch of her "daJeotabU company," but he was trembling in momentary appre: hension of .the dreadful infliction, when a slight stir among thoeeaearthe door, and a brief pause in the convemtion, announced a new arrival. Wentirsrtb, who was standing conversing in a careless manner, with his friend Ernest Graham, "tasked in the dirrotion of the door, to get a sight of the new vr J..J f.ii ooincrs. duuqci unu mo cjub lauuu upuu them, than a strange interest seemed to take possession of "him, and grasping the arm of hie friend, he iaquired, in an earnost tone, who they were. ' The Vernons, you have seen them often." "But the young lady, I mean ! Who is that young lady with them ?" "Their daughter, of course. Wrhy Harry Wentworth, what in the name of common sense is the matter? For you, who have hashed in the smiles of all the yonug ladies in the town, to be so strangely affected by the sight of a young girl in her teens, is really incomprehensible. What is the matter?" , To this question, Wentworth made no reply. Blushing slightly at the interest he had allowed himself to manifest, he turned the conversation to another subject. It was not loDg, however, before Ernest lost sight of Harry, and when he again saw him, he was engaged in an animated conversation with Mies Vernon. Alice Vernon had heard something of Harry Wentwortb/butsbehad beard nothing to his credit, and when she first became acquainted with him, she was surprised that one whom she had heard spoken of, only as a flirt and a trifler, shpuld be so frank, so warm hearted and so intelligent. The consequence was, that her prejudices quickly vanished before his sunny smile and genial good humor, and she readily gave him credit for all he professed. When the dancing began, Harry was at the same time Miss Vernon's partner and teacher, for sbe had never danced before. Under his excellent tuition she progressed rapidly, and soon found herself able to accomplish the most difficult figures With perfect ease. Wentworth's marked attention to Miss Vernon, attracted ;he notice of some i)f those busy-bodies who ;ire to be found in every community, and who consider it a religious duty to pay particular attention to their neighbors' business, to the great neglect of their own. These wise-acres began to shake their wisdom gourds, and predict some dreadful catastrophe. Bat their predictions produced little effect upon the happy subjects of their remarks, who ueither heard nor cared for them. The evening sped swiftly away. When the .guests began to depart, and Alice heard her father's voice telling her it was time to go, it seemed as if sne bad oeen wwiiUu?Mil._fmm a delightful dream. Hn/sn mnwA if tinma nn/7 In Tinr nVinml^or V?\/C UiUlQ U V UVUiC UI1U IU u Vy | WUHIU wi J Miss Vernon began, to recall the scenes of the evening. It was then that she first realized how mach the efforts of one person had contributed to her "happiness; it was not until then, that she perceived how intimately he was connected with all her erijoyment. Hud she been accused of being in' love with Harry Wentwortb, or even of having any particular preference for him, she would have hooted at the idea. But when she fell asleep,.there was present- in all her dreams, the open, manly face of her first partner in the dance; his low, earnest voice was continually sou'jding in her.ears; and when she awoke, it was with a silent regret that they were but dreams. Let us now iutroduce ourselves into Wentworth's studio, (so miscalled) and see what is taking, place there. On the following morning, Ilarry was sitting by his bachelor Ere, in a half dreamy state, between sleeping and waking, ruminating upon the strange apparition that crossed his path on the evening before. A girl who could interest him so deeply, was something strange indeed. "Was he not dreaminghe asked himself; pshaw! he did not care for Miss Vernon, the idea was ridiculous in the extreme. She was good looking, rather intelligent for one of her age, had good manners, was graceful and sprightly, all this he acknowledged; but might not the same be said of almost any young girl ? But why did he take the trouble to reason upon the subject at all ? What was she to him anyhow ? Nothing, absolutely uothing; he was only pursuing his favorite occupation of studying female character, and here was an admirable subject with which to pursue his investigations. By . such a course of reasoning he accounted to himself, satisfactorily he thought, for the interest he felt in Miss Vernon. Then with the resolution to dismiss the subject from his mind, he fell into a kind of dreamy reverie, in which he saw visions of a lovely female form, with a pair of bright, laughing blue eyes, and a countenance radiant as that of an Houri just from the bowers of bliss, beckoning him away, and singing, in a voice as sweet and musical as the Arabian maids at the "Feast of Roses "There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing, and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die 1 Une liour ox a passion so sacrea is worm Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss, And, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this." [TO BE CONTINUED.] tGF A good character is, in all cases, the fruit of personal exertion. It is not inherited from parents; it is not created by external advantages; it is no necessary appendage of birth, wealth, talents,-or station ; but it is the result of one's own endeavors?the fruit and reward of principles manifested in a course of virtuouB and honorable actions. <$ripal Ijaprs. ... -i Fro* iht YtokrLH* Fnfprinr. ''' ! jb^TIKGfl 0E TBAVEL. Mr. RUtor:?Yon did me the feonor to request & communication upon my return from a short trip West. I comply, more with the hope of relieving you some, from the use of the scissors during Christmas holidays, than the expectation of interesting your readers. 1 ? I' Well sir, in the first place, it will boa matter of surprise, almost astonishment, to one osred tiTfttaying at-home, to find how little be knows of the commotion and bustle of travel on those great thoroughfares?railroads.? Every clime and tongue, every shade of color, from "snowy white to sooty," are to be seen crowding and jostling each other io the throng of travel. W hen he sees, at those innnfinnn And prnccinm tha livina tido nf j ^ .? ?f, ? ?V, V? human beings rolling on in every direction, not imagining whence they came or where going, he will be impressed with the conclusion, that surely nobody is staying at that best of places?home. There is certainly an aptitude in the assertion of Sir Walter Scott, that "railroads set the world a gadding." A man, in his first adventures of travel, may feel apprehensions also, lest rail roads and public houses may get all the dimes.? My late experience is, that if a man has no paying business abroad, and is not overly public spirited, and is not overly barthened with change, he will make money after Dr. Franklin's plan?by staying at home and saving it. if the inexperienced doubt: by trying it, they will. feel interested in seeing how fast they may get clear of the dimes.? They need not tighten the strings of their purse?all they have to do, is to hold it open and see how, not exactly beautifully, but astonishingly less it grows. 'I never knew a time in travel, when more was exacted and less given in return, than I found the case in some places. It used to be the highest aim of extortiou to guess at a pile and size it.? Now, it is the aim to over siae it and be sure to leave none. Dut you and yoar readers may think this a smalt matter, and Well enough at last, as these little dimes may be running to grand [reservoirs, like little rills to the ocean, to be again rained back upon us in golden showers. If I have to travel, give me the iron track, even with its expense aud its hazards. We seem to change placed as if by uaagio?a j l:_I * j A* ciays run may wain yon irum areaTy wiuiei to verdant spring. In the language of Mr. Oatis, railroads. annihilate both time, and space. The trip to Memphis, which need to occupy three weeks, is now made in two and one half days! And yet} strange to see how hard we are to satisfy! When traveling at the rate of twenty fire miles an hour, if the cars only stopped a few moments to wood or water, you may see one of these slick cap men of business and haste, tbe Yankee, jump up and impatiently pace to and fro, swearing it is horrible delay?a Massachtneite or Connecticut or-cart could beat it, and if it could not do better, they would take their carpete??kajind travel on. Even the sedate, phlegmatic inan7~0f~K<u?ki_ crbocker renown, will draw a sigh, light his pipe, ?nd stfioke off the tedium, drawling out, "I vonder vat isb dc mattdftaake hiui stop so, and no go on, h-e-y?" It may be of some interest to those not posted, to say something of the health of the country the past season. As Mississippi was my destination and Clthia Thulr of uiy trip, I speak more knowingly and more par.1'_i cT? UaI,.. VIVUUliJf kjl ji?. jlu piuc ttuu mvacu oc'jUuudj a way from large water courses, the health was good. But it will bo recollected, that most'of the low lands in the South West, were submerged almost to early summer, and*conseqUently there has been a great deal of sickness, on the larger water courses and low lands. But the people characterize it as of the milder form?chill and fever, of which they make Tight. They seem to be imbued with the spirit of the patient, philosophic Dutchman, who, upon getting his leg broke, thanked God it was not his neck. They thank God they, though sick, don't die; ana say it pays to be sick a little, just to know how good it feels to get well. But they are a littlo too long getting well to suit my fancy, as many are yet alternately freezing and burning with chill and fever. This is the condition of the Western Mississippi, and from acoounts, of all the submerged counties west. ' The crop, a? far as I went, from what I heard and saw, falls far short of an average, both of corn and cotton. As seen by me in Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee, and Mississippi, with some few exceptions,it will scarcely average with the crop of York District. I am free to admit, that it is not fair to base an estimate of a country, upon. observation by railroad travel alone; but I rely also upon enquiry and travel, through and across by private conveyance. I could but notioe with surprise, the vast difference in the appearance of that beautiful and once rich country of the Tennessee valley, in the several viciui ties, of Huntsville, Decatur, andTuscumbia, as seen twenty years ago and now. Twenty years ago, I took it as ray model of perfection for a pretty and rich country, though the health was doubted. Now, stalks of cotton stand much lower on those same fields than on the old fields of York that were then supposed to be worn out. What is the matter?they are too level to have washed away ? They must have been pressed by continual demand, until exhaustion has been the result. A much similar contrast may be noticed in that portion of Tennessee, along the railroad, east of Memphis. To the wet and bollworm, is attributed the deficit of cotton on the rich prairie and bottom lands of Mississippi. You may see stalks standing there from four to six feet high, especially in the prairie. An inexperienced observer would conclude, surely, a bale to the acre. . Not so, the boll worm only left from three to five hundred pounds per acre in many rich fields,! as-the lords of the manor will Inform yon,' if yoa fail to difeeoiNhf it from the perforated bolls, remaining on the stalk. Of the liability of such disaster, I may say something at ' another time. * 1 " 1 *' ' *' i / it wiUjfgSge, fyt the present, roerejj to add, that, all kinds of property seem to be up; negroes, horses, moles, considerably above the ruling rales here. Land, generally well op, and rising. Money more flush than for some time previous. From the abua~ dance of oar money there, one might Bappose, they had adopted it for their own currency. When they would nek me if it were not very good; 1 would answer, that it was considered-sorbet theyougbtto bwtbebnt judges of it,.as it appeared more plentiful there, thnir at home. * I may, at another time, say more of the country?the advantages and disadvantages, as contrasted with our own. A FARMER. NEW YORE CORRESPONDENCE. New York, The: 24th 1858. Dear Enquirer:?Notwithstanding the 1 President's interference to allay the differences of the City Democracy, they are and will be a divided house, destined ere long to an i inglorious fall and a complete destruction. Fernando Wood, yet smarting under his defeat by a man without prestige, leads the van of the "outs" to the onslaught of the "old wigwam," the head-quarters of the onoe orthodox Democracy. He is a man that has the reputation of carrying his point by fair means or by foul, and as there is no compromise in him, the struggle is yet to come. In this prolific day of duels with pistols, paper-pellets and brick-bats, the Metropolis has also her share of deadly belligerents as ready to do battle with the pen as with the sword, perhaps a trifle more ready to contend with the former and mightier weapon. Hqpa Daniel Sickles and G. Tucker, Secretary of State for New York, have been passing notes of no peacoful character on a basis of certain assertions the former made in regard to the latter in the late Congressional canvass.? Sickles, ever uppermo6t in every fight, has wound his man around his finger,daring him to hid worst. So the matter stands for fur ther issue. Again hopes of a faint character are entertained for the Atlantic Telegraph, based on the dispatches.receivcd here that communications were conveyed through the wires & few dryra since. Jt is pretty generally conceded that a new oable must he laid before we can hold communication With the other 1 side with any degree of success. The lottery men are still in tribulation.? .The ovidenco is all taken and the counsel have summed up for and against the .prosecution, but, as is usual in such oases, the judge reserves his decision iu order to examine the evidence pro and von. Enough has been shown to prove the laws .violated,, but the question . turns on whether Wood, Eddy & Co., are implicated as agents for S. Swan- & Co., and Gregory and Maury.? The most noticeable featare in the trial is the utter waut of honesty in the evidence and the strict care taken to shield the guilty. The meet that can be expocted from the trial is the publication of said lotteries -Woffi the risking world. The tbrt^aysTcast of the Mount Vernon Association is over. It was the most brilliant success of its kind that was ever held : in the Academy of Music. The Association reaped a rich and deserved reward. The various theatrical companies are likewise contributing to the patriotic cause by giving entertainments, the proceeds of which' go to purchase the tomb of the Father of his Country. Hon. Edward Everett has began his series of "Mount Vernon Papers" in Bonner's LrtJf/rr, for which he is to receive ten-thousand dollars towards the MouDt Vernon food. He is to give a weekly paper for one year for the sum mentioned above. Bonner would show his patriotism to much better advantage if he would give the" entire pro- 1 ceeds of the- increase 0f the circulation of the Ledger for the year toward the good cause. Being very wealthy he can well afford the luxury. But in making the arrangement he had a view to the main chance, of which he will make the most. Fairs are the order of the day for this month. Schools, Churches, Hospitals, Societies, Widows, Niggers, all come in for a ( ?C L1i/> nnd n rli T-loinr ftP ' ! SLime Ui.^UUllU puviuua^u auu a uuuivu ui the spoil. This month the ^ry is "Good ' man !". next it will be "Good devil!" Bound 1 sums are in this way raised for institutions that need it not one half so mnch as the poor wretches who wander up and down ] daily, in search of employment to make a morsel of bread for a dying body. Such is a glimpse of the world within a city; one half starves, while the other sprees. New York and Philadelphia are again playing a chess-match by Telegraph, the first having resulted in a drawn game. Each party is eager to decide the champion-ship of chess. Heenan's challenge to Morissey and the ' | world, has been accepted by a Maine man or giant, named Woods. Whether Heenan ' will come up to the "scratch" after his defeat, remains to be seen. SETH. I Never knew my Mother.?She died ' when I was three years old, that she might be an angel to me all my life. But one day I in after years, turning over a pile of old let- ] | ters in my father's study, I found a package 1 ; of her letters to him, beginning first with 1 : ner nrst acquaintance witn mm ana coming ' down into her married life; and as I read those pages, at last I knew my mother.? 1 What these letters were to her life, that are ^ the Four Gospels to the life of Christ. But ' I remember that there was one letter in 1 which she first spoke freely and frankly of } her love. That, to me, is the Gospel of John. It is God's love letter to the world. . ' Life.?One to whom we are always in- I traduced without our consent, but we seldom t quit without regret. c Jg^tttoans HfaaiASbilAfcr.:-*^fe wfc?refB6A# Highland Mhry, *ho W: 1n 0r***K for a long period, diedtbereon the ETtVo# October, 1857, at the adrimoed age of eigfctj-fire yean. This yenenthlelodkmg'Wa? remembered to almost-the hist ndtoowtai her existence, with an sffecrionste lagaarri^ the one who inspired. Bmrns' fieelt efcme*y and was the object of has parestmUaohaent; and it we impossible to hear ber enter mis* etelv into the particulars of her daughter's ltfb, and the amiable qnalititfot Wl hearty withoct feeling oonrinced that Mtrf Campbell had something more than ordinary at* tractions to fascinate the mind of the poet. Were we to judge, from the appearance of the mother, whoaa fine black eye, pod regu-. lar features, at hor advanced age, gave indication of early beauty, we wpuld say thai Highland Mary" probabfy bad aleo perpOMi charms, wbiob would have fefiuenoed a lwi sensitive mind than that of Eobeit Boras. Among the little stores of the deceased, there was nothing to be found as momexKos #f the gifted bard, bat the Bible whiok hp g*f?. his beloved Mary on that day vfceo-jthjgj met on the banks of the Ayr,, "to have one day of parting love." It i$, indeed, a curiosity, and-has written on the first Ifeaf, in Burns' handwriting, the following passage of Scripture, which is strikingly illustrative of the poet's feelings and circumstances Thou shalt not forswear thyself, bat perform nntn the Lord thine nathn ' Tt ia WT known, that after this they never net again, and that time could not efface the solemnity of this parting from his mind; and it is to be regretted that two letters, which he wrote, after her death, to the afflicted mother, bave been destroyed?-the old woman saying, "she could never read them without shedding tears.' The mother and daughter are now st&piog. in the West Cbnrch-Yirtf: and is *Mary' to remain without* stone to toll the stranger of her place dt rest ?. The Sure Roat> to a i Not oue man in five ha mi red will make'jr ~orfune. But a competence and an independent position is within the retch of mostmen. This i3 obtained-most surely by pa tient industry and economy.. If a man hat ordinary talents and ability in any profession or business, or trade, he ?to, by purauingam economical, persevering conre^, be pretty sure of finally Staining an independent position in life. Let his expense fall below his income. Let him live cheep, very cheap, if neccasary; but lefhipi be sure awdaako his income more- ihah cover his expanse.? It can be done in almost all eases, notwithstanding the poeitive denial of ever an many housekeepers. A inau may -net have more than two or three' hundred dollars a year, and may have a family as large an John Rodgccs, and he cao find a way to live eon- . :j? fortably,and lay up something into tne bargaiu. There ia much, Day all, la knowing how the thing is dona. And that is the very thing people \jho are going to make money have got to lea'rn. It ia wonderful how few real wants we have, and how little it takes to give us genuine happiness. If we could get rid of our artificial, senseless, and expensive way of living, we should find ourselves better off in purse, in prospect, and in heart. Let any one who has any ambition to go ahead in life, try the experiment this year, and see how mnch virtue there is in economy. Make your expenses less than your income, and see how mnch you will have gained, not only in money but in the feeling that you are in the condition which the Yankee denominated "forehanded."? Try it this year. Tannebies in the United States.? According to the official statistics, there are 6.263 tanneries in the United States, of which the South has about one-third. Pennsylvania alone has one-sixth part of tile whole number, or 1,039. The Southern States rank in the following order: Tennessee has 894; Virginia, 841; Kentucky, 275; North Carolina, 151; Alabama, 149; Missouri, 148; Georgia, 140; Maryland, 110, Mississippi, 92; South Carolina, 91; Arkansas, 51; and the other Southern States a less number each. The entire capital invested io the tanneries in the land is 818,900,557, the number of skins in them being 2,658,065, and the number of sides of leather counting 12,257,940. Can a Man be his own Grand Father ??The query answered in the affirmative : "There was a widow and ber daughter-in-law, and a man and his son. The widow married her son, and the daughter married the man; tho widow was therefore mother to her husband's father, consequently grand-mother to her own husband. They had a son, to whom she was a great grandmother; now as the son of a grand-mother must be either a grand-father or great un8te, bis boy was therefore his own grand-father. N. B. This was actually the case with a boy at school at Norwich."?Notts and Queries. i Prosperity is a revere Test.?The human heart is lite a feather bed?it most be roughly handled and well shaken to prerents its becoming hard and knotty. With prosperity comes the withering discovery that opulence is not happiness, for the shadows around us are the darkest when the ran of our fortune is brightest. Teiy often, too, we are only the more ridiculous as well as ( unhappy, for being tossed in fortune's blanket, and having our heads turned, by being :hus elevated above those of our fellows. It natters little to be worth money, if we are vorth nothing else. JQ^When you have lost money in the itreeta, every one is ready to helpyou look or it; hot when yon have lost your chancer, every one leaves yon to recoverit as you an,