University of South Carolina Libraries
I ^ J THE OAJ\^LDE]NI" WEEKL1 JOlJ.IK^lN'A.Ijt i VOLUME 14 CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, TUESDAY MORNING APRIL 19, 1853. - 'NUM^ffii., | l'CBLTSIIED WEEKLY BY THOMAS J. WARREN. T li K H S. Two Dollars if paid in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents it" payment be delayed three months, and Three Dollars if not paid till the expiration of the year. ADVERTISEMENTS will bo inserted at the following rates: For one Square, (fourteen lines or less.) seventy-five cents for the first, and thirty-seven and a half cents for each subsequent Insertion. Single insertions. one dollar per square; semi-monthly, monthly and quarterly advertisements charged the same as for a singl#insertion. jygTThe number of insertions desired must be noted ou the margin of all advertisements, or they will be published until ordered discontinued and charged accordingly. % S'flfftfii Calf. A 'l*RIO OI tut? nf?vioiiiwu? A volume narrating the many high-spirited acts performed by the American women of the Revolution, of all ranks of life, would make one ot the most interesting books of our country's annals. Time in itseverswccpingcourse, has buried in oblivion,Trcts of everlasting remembrance, because there was no chronicle to niurk down the events of the period. But there exists traditionary stories in many families -which can be gathered, and they shall be chronicled?and among such sketches the women of the Revolution, noble-hearted, shall not be forgotten. Seventy-five years ago, there stood upon the summit of ' Murray Hill,' a handsome countryseat, the residence of Robert Murray, a Quaker merchant of much eminence in New York. It was a-beauiiful country mansion, surrounded by gardens.and fruit trees, and just far enough from the city, as it existed at that day, to be delightfully rural and undisturbed froin the encroachment of unasked city visitors. It was toward the hour of two, on a mild afternoon in September, 75 years by gone, that a lady in the garb of a Quakeress stood upon the portico of her dwelling, looking anxiously iuto the road which passed about a hundred yards in front. Her countenance was mild, but then expressed great anxiety?and D'?t without reason^ for ever and anon was heard the loud peal of a cannon, and the rattling fire of musketry, as if men were engaged in deadly strife, and now and then a faint cheer arose amid the clangor of arms. , Up the road in rapid retreat passed large kn.tSn,. ,.f c.iMWv Artillerv men rode alon<? uou,v" v' J * j c at the head of their pieces, the baggage carts and ammunition wagons mingled in the melee. It was evideut the Americans were leaving the city in rapid flight to save themselves from -being cut ofF from intrenchmeuts in the" upper part of the Island. Three cr four negro servants of both sexes stood near to her, to whom she from time to time addressed herself. Presently a black fellow came rushing towards the house, from a branch of the road, bis eyes protruding from fright, and his uiouth extended from ear to ear. / ' O Missus ! down in the meadow, near de bay, is a hundred dead sojers, and de English are driving the Merieans wid guns and swords before dem ? Oh, Missus, sight is horrible!' ' Thee says truly, Cato?the sight is horrible. Why, oh God! will men butcher each other, defacing the image of their Creator S and for what ?. ' Oh, see," Missus!' exclaimeJ several of tfre servants. Four soldiers in the blue and buff uniform of the Continentals, turned from the road up the broad avenue, filled with trees, which led to the house, bearing upon a litter of reversed muskets a young man from whose body the b ood was oozing so fast that it marked the track along the whole path. On they came towards the mansion. ' Cato ! Maggy"! bring instantly a matrass and pillows, and ulace them here in this shady tm- _ii :.e spot, x-iy, mi ui uicui j'uw? juuui . |iuvi youth! he isdving.' The faithful negroes were absent but a mo^ ment, before they returned with a matrass, pillows, sheets and blankets, and placed them in a cool corner of the wide portico, which extended the whole length of the mansion. The soldiers came up, and the leader of the party addressed the lady : ' Madam, our ensign is badly wounded. Our Captain directed us, claiming your liberality, to leave him here. The surgeon will soon follow.' Thee has done right. The shelter God has bestowed on toe shall ever be open to the tin unfortunate. Poor youth ! poor youth !' she 1 exclaimed as they laid him upon the matrass. The voung officer opened his eyes and gazed around him. His age was not more than twenty?fair-haired and fair-skinned, but pale, very, very pale?for the signs of death were too strongly marked on his white and even brow, to be mistaken, llis eyes were of deep blue; as they fixed their glance upou the fine expressive features of the Quaker lady, he niurr J -i??? :?mm., rnureu iiiiuw^b mauuiuij ? " Mother!' 4 Poor boy ! tliou hast a mother living, then one who perhaps is now lifting her voice to God to save thee from the dangers of the bloody calling in which thou hast fallen.?Raise his head, soldier, a little more. lie will soon be at rest.' Rut the last sentence was muttered to herself. The surgeon now came rapidly up the avenue, and was soon at (he side of the youth. He felt his pulse, opened his vest, and two j gunshots were seen, around which the blood ! was fast congealing. 4 Poor Dick, he has seen his last fight,' said . the surgeon. 4 Either of these wounds, madam, is mortal?he cannot live at longest half an hour. Follow your companions, men, the foe is close behind. My good lady, farewell, I can be of no use here. Let me beg of you the favor to get this hoy buried by the enemy, wh?n they inter their own dead.' He bent hastily over the dying ensign, wiped away a tear, and rushed out after the soldiers." The good Quaker lady took one hand of j the youth in her own, and passed the other ! over his clammy brow, where the cold drops of approaching death were fast gathering.! He opened his eyes for the last time, smiled upon the woman whose gaze was now fixed opon him, murmured faintly 'dear mother!' clasped her hand convulsively, and tho next ! instant ceased to exist. Tho lady said not a, word. She rose from .< her recumbent posture, drew a snow white linen i sheet over the body, and, with a stifled sob, ! again looked down the avenue. In different ! positions of the open orchard appeared soldiers bearing the dying forms of their com- i rades, which they laid carefully down, and then rushed rapidly towards their regiments, j passing down tho main avenue. In the space of a moment mure than a dozen soldiers were I placed in this way directly around the man- i sion. i Summoning her servants one and all, the ! good lady went into the orchard to aid the I poor dying soldiers as far as lay in her power. 1 Her attention had not thus long been given, i before an ollicer in the blue and buff uniform I of Washington's staff came riding at full speed up the road, and turned without slacking his . speed, towards thy mansion. He reined in his 1 steed as he reached the lady, observing her kind actions towards the soldiers. i ' Have I the honor of addressing Mrs. Mur- I , D ray. i ' If thee means the wife of Robert Murray, i I am what thou calJest me,' replied the lady, 1 looking up. : 4 My dear madam, pardon my address.? j The kindness I see displayed tells me I am i not mistaken, the commander-in-chief has sent! I me to ask the favor, if possible, of your do- j taining the advance of the British troops by receiving Sir William IIowo and his associates with your usual civilities, as they will probably stop to take a glass of wine, if requested.' 4 My dear madam,'?and he bowed his head nearer to the lady, as if in private conference ?4 a portion of our troops are yet in the city and they can only eseape by the Iiloomingdale road. You may prevent the march of the. enemy across the Island.' 4 Tell your General, young man, that I shall offer General Howe all the civilities in my power!' 44 Thanks, Mrs. Murray ?thanks P and the aid rode away. " . 1 1 _1 1 i\ot nioro man nve minutes uau eiapscu | from the time the officer departed, when the sound of martial rausiq with notes of victory filled the air, and proclaimed movements of advancing troops.* Mrs*'Murray went down to the road, and with two or three attendants waited their coming/ Indeed it was a brilliant spectacle'! An advanced corps of cavalrv, in scarlet uniforms, came gallantly up the hill, their trumpets and kettle-drums ' discoursing most eloquent music?next followed a company of grenadiers, then a larire uumber of officers in rich uniforms. The foremostoificor on horseback was Sir William Howe, commander-in chief of the British forces. In frame of body and stature, Sir William equalled Washington, both being abew tin- or.i imwy if or a !_ the comparison stopped. The countenance of the British General, so say historians, was harsh, dark, and forbidding, no v and then lighted up by a smile which seemed more disagreeable than prepossessing, Onward came the cavalcade, until they reached the gate at which Mrs. Murray was standing, upon whom till eyes were instantly turned. ' Will thee not slop and refresh thvselvos for a season aUmy mansion? Thee must be j fatigued !' she said, addressing herself to Sir! William llowe'and the ollicers immediately ! about him. Ileallv, Clinton, I think we may as well accept the good lady's oiler for a few moments. The troops have had hot work so far, and a j general rest will not be amiss. Madam, we ' accept your offer with pleasure, the more so as ; it shows you to be a loyal Iric-nd of his Majesty, whom I now humbly represent as commander-in-chief of his forces in North America.' ' I atn alike the friend of King George and , Omgress?of William Howe and George j Washington. It becomes me not, a poor, weak thing of .God's making, to dislike any of i.r. ' ill"* ^ i V ami v*. Sir William Howe bowed; he was too po- i lite to argue political matters with the good Quakeress. lie rode into the park, after com-! mauding a general halt of ten minutes for the ; refreshment of the troops, followed by Sir ; Henry Clinton, Con. Knyphaus.cn, commander of the Ilessians, Lord Percy, Gens. Leslie and Grant, and his statF, where they dismounted and followed Mrs. Murray to the mansion. Reinforcements of cake, wine and cold meats were ordered cut upon the lawn in pro- | fusion, of which the olheers partook freely? j and tradition says that ?ir Henry Clinton, who i was a great bon vivant, remarked to his stipe- | rior officer in an under-lone, 4 that if the eel- ! lars of the mansion contained any large rpianti- ] ty of such Madcria, he should lie to be bib ; Icted there for the campaign.' In the meantime Mrs. Murray had directed j Cato, the black servant, privately to go to the j top of the mansion, and the. instant he saw a j body of men pass a certain point on the Bloomingdale Road to give her the information by signal. I may as well remark that from the hill the road could not be perceived, i but from the cupola of the dwelling it was very , easy seen. Nearer an hour than the ten minutes, Sir i William Howe gave orders fur the halt of his j troops had passed away, yet still beforo the j mansion he lingered with his officers. .Mrs. : Murray had not only entertained them with ro- j freshmciitB but conversation. The younger j portion of the officers bad gathering the fruit! with which the trees were bending, ripened | under the sun of an early autumn, and thus time bail slipped away unawares. At length Cato made the required signal, and Mrs. Murray, turning to the British commander, said ? ' Wilt thee and thy officers step with me to the portico of the mansion? 1 have a sight for thee all.' This was uttered in so quiet and grave a ton*, that the merriment of their triumph over the ' rebels' instantly ceased, the glasses were ,W... VV:il?,?, Mrttvn ninl liis ?..., ? ( cneruls followed the Quakeress as requested Leading them to the end of tho portico, she stooped down, and lifting the sheet, uncovered the body of the poor continental ensign. Handsome even in death wero the features 1 of the youth. His fair curling hair blew light ly over liis rndrble cheek, in the soft breeze. The bull" lining of his uniform was deeply streaked with his life blood, which had gathered in a clotted pool upon the matrass. The sight was indeed one to awaken emotion in the sternest breast. ' Who, among you will answer to God, and this boy's mother for the bloody deed?' said Mrs. Murray, raising her eyes calmly to the group of officers. ' To horse, gentlemen ! Madam, such are the fortunes of war. Thanks for your courtesy. Farewell.' This was the only response Df Sir William Ilowe. What more could lie say! In a few moments the blast of the trumpet and thc drums and fifes told that the troops were on the inarch to triumph and victory?lbr a season. Thank God, it was only for a short season. The main facts of this sketch arc true. Mrs. Murray, Iho Patriotic Quakeress, by detaining Sir William Ilowe, saved a large body of American troops?near upon threethousand? under the command of Putnam, who would liave been penned up in the city with his men if the British army had crossed the Island sooner. Might not the loss of three thousand troops t?> Washington, at that time, have been sufficient to change our whole destinies, as regards a Republic 1 It is a grave thought. At my rate, all honor to Mrs. Murray, the Quaker lady of olden times. ^Hiscflltnifons. From the Southern School Journal. Importance of Education. We hope the following remarks by Mr. Tlmrsfnn late Snneriiitendcnt of Public III struction in Maine, will be deliberately ponder, ed. iVe borrow the extract from the Journal of Education, published in that State. In view of the blessings,great and innumerable, handed down to us by our fathers, we .arc placed under the most binding obligations to lit and prepare our children, by their education, to transmit the same heaven-bom blessings un tarnished to future generations. The elements of physical, mental and moral wealth now in our possession arc exciting the anxious solicitude of every philanthropist in Christendom : for it requires no prophetic eye to foresee the momentous consequences depending on the solution that wo shall give to the great problem of ^>lf government. Nor does it take any un usual discernment to perceive the connection between the solution of this problem and oui system of public instruction. Hence it is thai one of the great leading ideas of the age, al least as far as'our country is concerned, is the idea of a universal education?an education noi partial, not superficial, but thorough?enibra cing the full development of the whole man body,.mind and soul?an education,which ? the result of all those influences that surrouni the human being from infancy to mature age wljL'thor these influences originate with the pa rent or the teacher, the school house or tin church, the living voice or the written page? whether they act on the physical, mental 01 moral nature, or on those mysteries existing between the body and the mind?an educatioi that is good or bad, perfect or imperfect, com plete or defective, just in proportion as it di reds and developes all the powers and facul ties in obedience to the laws which God has establish'(I. It is this idea of an educatior around which cluster all the experience of th< past, the varied phenomena of the present, ant the most cherished anticipations for the future ami if we as a .State, as a component part o the Union, falter in the least, in urging forwarc the realization of these cherished anticipations we shall pro^e false to the memory of the grea and the good who have transmitted to us oui rich inheritance?false to every dictate of en lightened humanity?false to ourselves and recreant to our God. Uesides, an education of some hind cverj one will have. It is not at the option of tin community to decide whether an individua shall be educated or not. Every child thu grows lip in society, must and will be educa ted. Neither his own volition, nor the rcsjicc of the parent or the State, can in any wise pre vent it. If ho is not educated in the publii school, by the private teacher, at the domesti< fireside, a thousand genial influences that ougli to surround every child, he will be educated ii the streets, in the tippling shops, in the gam bling house, in the brothel, the jail or prison It is the kind of education only that is at tin option of the parent, the community, the State And of the different kinds, there is almost ai infinite gradation?from that which makes brute, to that which makes a man ; from that which makes a demon, to that which make; an angel. Yes! that embryo being, that bun die of fibres almost without mental pheuoinem or moral coiuntioo^tliat bundle ol fibres wfiicl constitutes the raw material in education, fi fenrl'uily and woiiderfully made?having ten deucics and capacities pointing to the farthesl verge of good or evil, capacities of unlimitet virtue or vice, of unbounded happiness or mis cry?its animated soul has a pinion, by whicl it may soar to the loftiest height or descend tc the lowest deptli?a voice that may join in th< sweet symphonies of angels, or grate harsh discord in the blasphemies of demons. Todcvel ope the>c powers and capacities, to direct this soul in its upward or downward flight, to turn this voice to harmony or discord, is the pro vince of education. And whilst it is true, that every child has tendencies and capacities capable of develop mer.t to an unlimited extent?whilst it is true, that these powers and capacities must and will be developed for good or for evil,as tliey should not be; it is equally true, that the kind of development will always precisely correspond tc the means used to secure the object. Man. the whole man, body, mind and soul, as far as any human agencies arc concerned, is the resSltant of certain forces, the effect of a chain of causes; and the character of the result produced will always correspond to the t'lcmcnts and processes used in the production. This we regard as an axiom requiring no proof, need A _ J.__!**? J...1 a. ~ ?ll IDg tio argument, auiiiiumg ui no uuuui, nius. tration could not make it more clear, reasoning could not enforce it; the history of the human race confirms it, and Divine revelation sane j lions it. "Train up a child in the way lie 1 should go, and when he is old he will not de| part from it." The declaration is positive.? ! j There is no doubt or contingency, expressed or i j implied. T If we go back, in imagination, a few years j we behold the millions of human being who are now on the stage of action just entering exis i tence?so ignorant, so speechless, so helpless, that we might almost persuade ourselves that i a mistake had been made and they had been ushered into the wrong world. So similar in bodj*, in mind and in moral condition, that the difference could scarcely be discerned. But j where are they now? Some are expiating their j crimes in colls and dungeons; others are moral | luminaries shedding light and truth from hori j zon to horizon; some are beating and bruising i themselves against the bar of a maniac's cage; i others, with an intellect as keen as that of an' 1 ? * " . I I i ! g<'ls. are tracing tne laws 01 me soiar .-^siew, '! some are enveloped in ignorance and supersti! lion; others are solving the mightiest problems j that science presents; some are groveling in the I most servile conditions; others arc holding high converse in the nation's hall where the destinies of millions are arbitrated. But whence this mighty change? Whence this wonderful transformation in these ignorant, speechless, , helpless beings? Whence this contrast in the condition of those once so similar, once so ncaily equal? The change, the transformation, the contrast has been produced by the J agency of laws, as certain in their operation and as infallible in their results, as the laws that govern the relation of cause and effect in I chemistry, in agriculture, in the mechanic arts or in any of the departments of life. These arc truths that can neither be controverted nor denied. Is it not of some consequence, then, that the Legislature, the parent, the teacher, should understand the laws and conditions ill . obedience to which these good or these bad | results are to be produced ? ! From the American Presbyterian. ' The TOamier in which to Spend a Sabbatli. The law of the Sabbath as given by God, for1 bids all labor either of body or mind, "six days 1 shalt thou labor and do all thy work. But the seventh, is the Sabbath of the Lord thy Gud, in i it thou shalt do no manner of work." The only ! exceptions to this rule, are those made by our ' Saviour; works of necessity, or of mercy. We 1 have no right to labor at our ordinary vocations, whether it employ our physical or intellectual 1 faculties, nor to travel ou this day. It is set apart by God for himself. ' 2. It forbids the labor of servants and ofchil ' dren, and in short of all those under our charge. : The precept includes all, both our children 1 and servants, as well as ourselves. They stand ' in the same relation to God as ourselves, and > we haye_no right to make any appropriation of 1 lubs&whnm he has alr<*uly appropriated to himself. And still mpre. Those that are at the ? head of families, are bound to see that all under ' their care refrain from any worldly employment, 5 and sanctify that day and keep it holy, in the sight of God. r 3. The command of God forbids us to cause > our domestic animals to labor, or otherwise otn1 ploy thorn in labor; for they are justly entitled to rest, as much so as ourselves. 4. The command is, to rest. Hence it as much forbids the employment of our time in the pur 3 suit of pleasure, as of wealth. It is a profaua1 tion of the Sabbatli a* much to spend it in riding, } visiting, journeying or any form of amusement, J ' as in lalxjr. On the contiary the precept for the | > observance of the Sabbatli enjoins the keeping ' of the day holy, that is, sanctifying it, or setting ' it apart for a religious purpose. To rest from > labor is commanded, but tins is not an ; we are L to occupy it in the service of the Lord. Among r these are?1st, reading the scriptures, medita* tion, and prayer in secret. 2nd. The special in- j * struction in religion of the young and those committed to our car#e. ller.ee wc are bound to make such arrangements in our families as are consistent with this duty. Social worship.?; ' This, under the Mosaic and christian dispensat tion, has always formed an important part of the duties of this day. The Sabbath is one seventh L! part of time, that is one day. Hence the whole " of it is to l?e consecrated to the service of God. -1 To employ any part of it in labor or amusement, -1 or in trifling, or secular conversation, or reading, 11 is a violation of the command of God. It does 1 ; not. begin with the ringing of the bell for Church, * j and end with it, but it includes the whole day. i Again. It is set apart for tljc whole race of -j mankind, that is, fur all men. Statesmen and j legislators are under as great obligrtion to keep 1 ; it as piivntc citizens; the rich and powerful as 1, much as the poor and dependant. - Nor are any so insignificant as to be excused J from the obligation. The child is commanded to keep the day holy as much as his parent, and 1 he sins against God, as much, by playing as old1 er 'persons do by labor on God's holy day. T 5 would impress those remarks particularly upon - the young. One of the tirst indications th* a t j young yerson is becoming vicious, is his disre1 spect for the Sabbath and his neglect of religious worship. The youthful Sabbath-breaker rarely .....ui;.,?tn nurl nn nhniuloiied 1 iaus 10 uecomu <i juviuijuiv ....v. .. ' man. Let a young person, tliereforc, under all! 1 circumstances, keep llie Sabbath day holy, and j * let h in) strenuously avoid the company of those i * who arc inclined to violate it. * A CORRESPONDENT. I I Preservation ok the Mental Powers.? ; Fatuity from old age cannot be cured; but it i j may be prevented hv employing the mind con ' stantly in reading and conversation in the eve, ningoflife. Dr. Johnson ascribes the fatuity I of Dean Swift to two causes: first to a reso[ liiliun made in his youth that he would never wear spectacles, from the want of which he i was unable to read in the decline of life; and , second, to his avarice, which led him to abi scond from visitors or deny himself to company, by which means h? deprived himself of i the only two methods by which new ideas are acquired, or old ones renovated. His mind i i languished from want of exercise, and gradual ; ly collapsed into idiotism, in which siaic nc spent the close of his life, in a hospital founded by himself for persons afflicted with the same disorder, of which he finally died. Country people, when they have no relish for hooks, when they lose the ability to work, to go abroad, from ago or weakness, are ver) apt to become fatuitous; especially, as the}" are too often deserted in tlieir old age by the younger branches of the families; in consequence 'of which their minds become torpid, fiom the want of society* and conversation.? Fatuity is more rare in cities than iu country places, .only because society and conversation can be had in them on more easy terms, and is less common among women than men, only because ethcir mployments are of such a nature as to admit of their being carried on by their fireside and in-a sedentary posture. The illustrious Dr. 1'ranklin.exhibited a striking instance of the influence of reading, writing and conversation, in prolonging a sound and active state of all the faculties of the mind. In his eighty.fourth year he discovered no one mark in them of the weakness of decay usually observed in the minds of persons at that advanced period of life.?Dr. Jiusk. A Dblightbd Mother.?a momer, wtu was in the lmhit of asking her children, before they retired at night, what they had done tc make others happy, found her young twir daughters silent. One spoke modestly ofdeedi and dispositions founded on the golden rule "Do unto others as ye would that th^y shouk do unto you." Still these little bright faces wer< bowed in silence. The question was repeat ed. "I can remember nothing good all this daj dear mother; one of my schoolmates was hap py, because she had gained the head of the clas: and I smiled on her, and ran to kiss her, s? she said I were good. This is all dear mo ther." The other spoke still more timidly : "A litth girl, who sat with .me on the bench at school has lost a little brother. I saw that while she stu died her lesson, she hid her face in her bool and wept. I felt sorry, and hid my face 01 the same book and wept with her. Then shi looked up and was comforted, and put her arm: around my neck ; but I do not know why sh< said I had done her good ' Come to my arms, my- darlings P said tin mother, "to rejoice with those that do rejoio and weep with those that do weep, is to obe; our blessed Redeemer." J? Woodman, Spare that Tree.?The Nev York Sunday Mercury tells an excellent stor; of Ilenry Russell, the well known English vo calist: A great many of our readers yet remembe a Hebrew gentleman named Russell, who'cdm to this country some fifteeu years ago and mad a little fortune by singing ballads like " Th Ship on Fire, etc. Upon his return to Englan he entertained the public there with his pre found knowledge of America, and we believ he continues so to entertain it, at tho sam time throwing into the entertainment avariet of songs, about the composition of which h may be said to be somewhat romantic. II was giving one of his peculiar entertainnienl on one occasion at .Miss Kelly's theatre, Soh< London, within a year, when he said som< thing to this effect: " One day-all, when in one of the towns c the State of Kentucky-ah, I, as was me cu; turn after dinner all strolled from me 'otel, an shortly afterwards found meself iu one of thos large forests for which America is so renowr cd uh. At this meyoment a stalwart-ah Ker tuckian was in the act of felling one of th largest and most splendid-ah trees me eye ever lighted upon. , As the monster of the forest fell-ah, me 'eai f/Mw.t.ofl I immediately returned to m ""a ?' ./ 'otel, wrote the lubretto and composed the rai sic to a song which I have kevawled 4 Woot i man, spare that tree!' which it will now giv me the greatest possible pleasure to sing ft you ah." The veracious Air. Russel here si down to the piano, and was on the point < pummelling that merciless instrument, when ! a clear voice rang out from the midst of th j audience these words: 'George P. Morris, c New York, United States of America, wrot the song of Woodman, Spare that Tree. The voice was that of the soldier, poet an novelist, T. Mayne Roid, who is now in Lor don, and our informant was one of his tw companions on that occasion, both of whoi: were as much astonished at tho unluoked fo interruption as the rest of the audience. It i due to Mr. Russel to say that he maintaine his usual brightness of brass, and that lie wen on with the song as if nothing had happened. The Folly dVPniDE.?After all, take soin quiet, sober moment of life, and add togethe the two ideas of pride and man ; behold him creature ofa span high stalking through infinit space in all thegrandeur of littleness. Perche 011 a speck of the Universe, every wind ofhea von strikes into his blood the coldness ofdeatl bis soul floats from bis body liko melody fror the string; dayand night, as dust on the whee he is rolled along the heavens thro' a labyrint of worlds, and the creations of God are flaminj above and beneath, is tins a creature iu man himself a crown of glory ! to deny his own flesh to mock at his fellow, sprung from that dust t< which both will soon return ? Does he no suffer? Does ho not die? When he reasons is he never stopped by difficulties ? When hi acts, is he never tempted by pleasure ? Whei he lives, is he free from pain ? When ho dies can he escape the common grave? Pride ii not the heritage of man; humanity should dwel with frality, and stone for ignorance, error ant imperfection.?Sydney Smith. Use of Dreams.?"There is to be made,1 says Bishop Sanderson, "ii lawful, yea, and i very profitable use, even of our ordinary dreams and of the observing thereof: and that both it physic and dignity. Not at all by foretelling particulars of things to come but by taking fron them some reasonable conjuctures injhe gene ral of tho^mcn/ estate both of our bodies ant souls." God the Fountain and the Ocean.?Ai rivers and fountains proceed from sea and re turn thitlicr again, so true graco in the heart as a fountain, sends forth all its streams towari God, the ocean from wheCse it flowed. Sabbath-breaking is that sin which leads tc all other sins. ?enrral UfNfc Quick Retribution.?A man named Bo^rd- ?;? i had some slight difficulty with another, AfMf ' threaux, in Sacramento/ California, anckjjrtpe heard, after an interview - with the latte#?'t<j 1 make some threats. The Union gitea. the fl-' i 1 nale of the affair: . A short time later in. the afternoon, Boyd j 1 went to the hotel where he left his rifle, and taking it in his hands, was hoard to say, a8 if speaking to himself,, tliftt " he woaldkkiii sojile person if he had to hang for it the 'next mri ' inent." Stepping to'the door, arid seeing Gafithreaux across the street, some 0O;feet distant,^ with his back turned, he toi'k aith nod fired, ' \ 1 The bullet struck Gauthroaux near the loin oil _"j the right side, and passed clear through, hint i'?, i j L:, - i UUl, liupt-'b tire C'lltCI milieu luui, UIB irvuuu II) . not mortal. In just twelve minutes after, said ojlr inform* "'fsj > ant, Boyd was suspended by the necktp-lbtf i limb of a tree, where be hung till die wasdeaif. 1 The Washington National Mo'Nu*iprf. . s Geo. Waterston, esq., Secretary of ihtf'Wash-' ' ington Natkmaf Monument Society" in acicbow-? edging the donation of 81,000 from the>8ahi some Hook and Ladder Company of San Fran* cisco, says: ' ' . ^ "The name of this company will, as iLde-. ^ ' serves, be inscribed on the tabletih the roOniw " ment assigned to such as shall Have contributed 3 one thousand dollars. Madaine BiscaCmnti, 1 who so, patriotically contributed the proceed^ * nfo onriKorf nivon ill Sflh Frftni'LSTji: ftiP lliiifc nffiF pose, of five hundred dollars,- wilf also b6 bon-;v 2 ored by having her name inscribed on a tablet> in this "great structure, with others who shall have contributed, or may hereafter Contribute, * slims varying from one hundred to one" ttidn*^ _ j 1 sand dollars, as an evidefifce of their love and * 2 admiration for the founder of thef libertilS^f 3 his country. California seems so far to hire 3 taken the lead in the liberality of her coritHfcjfe tions." , 2 . ^ s. # - >JjgPgjg' e Snails.?A French paper says that snails f have become quite a fashionable article of dkt in Paris, as they were in the days of the old Romany There are now fifty restaurants, and i v more than twelve hundred private tables of Pi' v* ris, where snails are accepted as a delicacy-fey ' from eight to ten thousand customers. The monthly consumption of this matftist an is esti* v r mated at half a million. The market pride of \ e the great vineyard snails is from 2f. 50. to 3C e 50c. per hundred, while those from the hedges; ? woods and forest* bring ouly from 2f. fo 2f. 20c. The propriety of the snailery in the vi- '< cinity of Dijon, is said to net over 7000f. annue ally. . "j J e ' ' 7* y The Augusta Constitutionalist learns that c the mail train of Thursday, on the Georgia e Rail Road was detained several hours. >The s cause was, the burning of 200 yards of thtf ^ track two miles this side of Stone Mountain. 2~ This delayed the train several hoars, by which - time the damage was repaired. The fire was! [ communicated from the adjoining woods. The , 5" wind was high during the day, and the fenci a on several plantations at different points on the * road were burned. i- . e Release of Prisonebs.?The Rational In* >s toliigencer learns through a privatedetter from Europe, that our Minister at Madrid, Mr. Bar' rt ringer, has fully succeeded in bis'efforts* e through his personal influence witn tne government there, in procuring frona the Queen of j, Spain a pardon and release of the eight Hunc garian prisoners of the Lopez expedition of 0 1S51, against the island of Cuba, who hare lt been so long confined in the Spanish preaido at Ceuta, in Africa, and who were made an excep> a tion to the general pardon granted to the Atner? e ican and other prisoners of the expedition. )f * e John Bull Beat at nis o\yn TrIcks " Brother Jonathan.?The New-York Times d states that it has been a habit for a year or two, i- with several of the large English publishing o houses, to print costly editions of their works n for the English market, and at the same time an ,r edition specially designed for the American mars ket?printing them in an inferior style, upon J t| cheaper paper, and selling them at a reduced t price. The name of an American publisher js generally inserted on the title page; but tho books are printed in Englaud. Tnis is done to1 e forestall the American reprint. Recently, af r New-York publisher made a large collection of a these English printed booka; re shipped tbeitt T > -- _.i? i?rr?j *?.? . e to i-iOUUOU, wnert; iiu uucicu lucui at ouvu d as to very largely undersell the expensive Euglish editions, upon which the publishers, had cakl, culated to make large profits; and tfeeBe gentle? men are thus made the losers bv tbek own fe-3 :| genuity. It is said a good deal of excitement h exists^imong the London pub&bers in eow<t? rr quence of this return upon their own beads of e their own inventions. > . i? . 0 Lightning CosDUCTOtts.?A correspondent of t the1ST. Y. Journal of Commerce gives a long list !, of vessels that have been struck by lightning at e sea and destroyed, and says : 1 " We have never known of a case of Joss of i, life by lightning in a vessel or building furnishs cd with lightning conductors, nor have we ever 1 Heard of an iron ship being struck by lightning 1 or of loss of life by lightning in a vessel or boat propelled by. steam ; nor have we been able to hear of a single instance in which the guns, chain cables and anchors on board of ships of 1 war have diverted the lightning from the light ? uing chaiu made of iron wire five-sixteenths of 1 an inch in diameter.. r . i * _ Ex-President Van Buren will start for En rope 7; J in a few days, with his son Martin, who isin bad health. Old Matty is said to be in food. 7 health, lively and cheerful as evdh IfeJ ^pa 3 born in 1782, and is therefore 71 years of age, 1 It is thk Will of God, and well, pleasing to God, that I should rejoice oonttnuaHy W fore him in the acceptance and possession of his $ , grace in Christ as made unto us wisdom, right. cousnoss,'anptificationand redemption, J -j?