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THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL Is published every Thursday Morning, IN COLUMBUS, GA. BY WILLIAM H. CHAMBERS, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. T o whom ail communications must be directed, post paid. Office on Randolph Street. Terms of Subscription. One copy twelve months, in advance, - - §2 50 “ Not in advance, -3 00 •• < Six “ “ “ - 150 Where the subscription is not paid during the year, 15 cents will be charged for everv month’s delay. No subscription will be received for less than six months, and none discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except at the option of the proprietor. To Clubs. Five copies twelve months, - $lO 00 Ten “ “ 16 00 nr The money from Clubs must in all cases ac- • company the names, or the price of a single subscription will be charged. Rates of Advertising. One Square, first insertion, - - SI 00 “ “ Each subsequent insertion, - 50 A liberal deduction on these terms will be made in favor of those who advertise by the year. Advertisements not specified as to time, will be pub lished till forbid, and charged accordingly. Monthly Advertisements will be charged a3 new Ad vertisements at each insertion. Legal Advertisements. N. B.—Sales of Lands, by Administrators, Ex ecutors, or Guardians, arc required by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 in the forenoon, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court , House in the county in which the land is situated. No- | tices of these sales mu-t be given in a public gazette I sixty days previous to the day of sale. Buies of Nkg roes must be made at a public auction ; on the first Tuesday of the month, between the u-ual hours of sale, at the place of public sale- 1 in the county where the Letters Testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship,may have teen granted, first giving sixty days notice thereof in one of the public gazettes of this State, and at the door of the Court Hou-.e, where such sale- are to be held. Notice for the sale of Personal property must be given in like manner Forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an estate must be published FORTY days. Notice that application will be made, to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must be published for FOUR MONTHS. Notice for leave to sell Negroes mist be pnhli-hed for four months, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. Citations for letters of Administration, must Ixj pub lished thirty days—for di-mission from administration, monthly six months —for dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for the foreclosure of a Mortgage must be pub- ; failed monthly for four months —for establishing 10.-t j papers, for the full space of three months —for com pelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a Bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of THREE MONTHS. Publications will always be continued according to these legal requirements, unless otherwi.-e ordered. SOUTHERN SENTINEL Job Ollicc. HAVING received anew and extensive assortment of Job Material, we are prepared to execute at this office, all orders for JOB WOK K .in a manner which ] can not be excelled in die State, on very liberal terms, and at the shoitest notice. We foci confident of our ability to give entire satisfac tion in every variety of Job Printing, including Books, Business Cards, Pamphlets, Bill Heads, Circulars, Blanks of e eery description, Hand Bills, Bills of Lading, Posters, dpc. dj-r. fyc. *ln short, all de-criptions of Printing which can be ex ecuted at any office in the country, will be turned out with elegance and despatch. Dyeing and Renovating Establishment. bertholT) senger A'I7'OULD respectfully inform the ladies and gentle- j \ V men of Columbus, and vicinity, that he is still at ■ his old stand on Bioad Stieet, near the Market, where he is prepaicd to execute all work entrusted to him, in the various departments of Dyeing, Scouring, Renovating, & Rleaching < w and old clothing. Ladies’ Silks, Merinoeu, and Satins, cleansed of stains and impurities, and colored to any shade. Also finished to look and wear as well as new. i Cotton, Silk, and Woolen goods bleached or dj’ed, in j the very best manner, and with despatch. • | Also, Morcrine Blue, Turkey Red, &c. &.c. Gentlemen’s garments cleansed and dyed so as not j to soil the whitest hneu. Carpeting renovated and made as pood as new. All orders thankfully received and promptly ex ecuted. Columbus, March 21, 1850. 12 ts Important TO MILL OWNERS AND PLANTERS. undersigned will contract for building Rock JL D uis. or anv kind of rock work and ditching, in .my of this State or Georgia, in the mo?t improved manner. B. COLLINS, Fort MitcheU, Russell, Ct/n.nty, Ala. Dec. C, 1819. 6:n To Physicians, Druggists AND COUNTRY MERCHANTS, j DR. J. N. KEELER &. PRO. mo-t respectfully solicit attention to Their fie?h stock of English, | French, German and American Drugs, Medicines,Cnem- I icals, Paints, Oils, Dye-stuffs JGlassware, Perfumery, &c. j Having opened anew store, No. 294 Market St., with a ! full supply of -Fresh Drugs and Medicines, we respect- j fully solicit country dealers to examine our stock before i purchasing elsewhere, promising one and all who may j Ixsdispo cd to extend us their patronage, to sell them j genuine Drugs and Medicine.-, on as liberal terms as any oilier house m the city, and to faithfully execute all or ders entrusted to us promptly and with dispatch. One of the proprietors being a regular physician, affords ample guarantee of the quality of all articles sold at their es tabfahment. We especially invite druggists and country merchants, who may wish to become agents for Dr. Keeler’s Celebrated Family Medicines, (standard and popular medicines.) to forward their address. Soliciting the patronage of dealers, we respectfully remain KEELER & BRO. Wholesale Druggists, No. 249 Market St., Phil’a. Oct. 11, 1849. ly Marble Works, East side Broad St. near the .Market House, COLUMBUS, GA. HAVE constantly on hand all kinds of Grave Stan's, Monuments, Tombs and Tablets, of American, Italian and Irish Marble. Engraving and carving done on stone in the te.-l possible manner; and all kinds of Granite Work at the shortest notice. JOHN H. MADDEN. P. S.—Plaistcr of Paris and Cement, always on hand for sale. Columbus, March 7, 1850. 10 ts NORTH CAROLINA . . . ,*” Hutual Life Insurance Company. LOCATED AT RALEIGH, N. C. C harteLflCfnis company gives important advan- the assured, over most other companies. The husband can insure his own life for the sole use and benefit of his wile and children, free from any other claims. Persons who insure for life participate in the profits which are declared annually, and when the pre mium exceeds §3O, may pay one-half in a note. Slaves are insured at two-tliirds their value for one or five years. Applications for Risks mav be made to . JOHN MUNN, Agent, Columbus, Ga. Office at Greenwood &. Co.’s Warehouse. jNo\\ 15,1849. ts WINTER’S PALACE MILLS. 17'AMILIES, bv having their names with me, can be ■ . supplied regularly bv mv Wagon, at their residences, with MEAL and HOMINY, of best quality. JO. JEFFERSON, Clerk. Feb. 28,1850. ts WINTER’S PALACE MILLS HAVE now a good supply of fresh ground Flour, of three qualities; say FINE, SUPERFINE, anu FANCY brands; each kind is made from the best of Western Wheat, and the only difference is the color. The price by retail is, for Fine, S3 per half barrel; Su perfine, S3 25 per halt barrel; Fancy, S3 50 per half barrel. Discount made to those who buy. to sell again. Quarter barrels arc sold proportionately cheap. JO. JEFFERSON, Clerk. Dec. 27, 1849. 52 ts SSO REWARD. RAN AW AY from the subscriber, about the 15th of February last, a small mulatto woman, by the name of FRANCES. She is about lour feet ten or eleven inches high, speaks quick and laughs loud, with lather a squeaking voice; her nose and mo t’.i project rather more than is common for mulattos; she had rings in her care when she left, and always wears something on her head. I will pay fifty dollars for the apprehension and safe keeping of her so that I can get Her. I will also pay a liberal reward for proof sufficient to convict any person ofharboring her, as I have reason to believe she is con ’ cealedbysome one. S. T. AUSTIN. Nov. 1, 1849. 44 ts TEAS! TEAS^ TAIRECT from the “Canton Tea Company just re +\J ceived and for sale bv ELLIS &. GRAY. Feb. 7, 1850, 6 ts VOL. I. An Old Fashioned Dittv. I’ve tried in much bewilderment to find Under which phase of loveliness in thee I love thee test; but, oh! my wandering mind Hovers o'er many sweet- 1 , as doth a bee, And all I feel Is contradictory. I love to see thee gay, because thy smile Is sweeter than the sweetest thing I know ; And then thy limpid eyes are all the while Sparkling and dancing, and thy fair cheeks glow With such a sunset lustre, that e’en so I love to see thee gay. I love to see thee sad, for then thy face Expre=seth an angelic mi-cry; Thy tears are shed with such a gentle grace. Thy words fall soft, vet sweet as words can be, That though ‘tis selfi-h, I confess, iD me, I love to see thee sad. I love to hear thee speak, because thy voice Than music’s self is yet more musical— Its tones make every living thing rejoice; And I, when on mine car tho-e accents fall, In sooth I do believe that most of all I love to hear thee speak. Yet, no ! I love thee, mute; for, oh, thine eyes Express so much, thou hast no need of speech! And there’s a language that in silence lies, When two full hearts look loudness each to each, Love’s language that I fain to thee would teach, And so I love thee mute. Thus I have come to the conclusion sweet, Nothing thou do-t can less than perfect be ; All beauties and all virtues in t'.iec meet: Yet one thing more I’d fain behold in thee— A little love, a little love for me ! THE ELOPEMENT. BY HENRY G. LEE. “Young man, it is useless to urge this mat ter. In declining your offer of an alliance with my family, l am in earnest.” “I am not content \ftth a simple rejection of my suit, Mr. Carlton. I give reasons for all acts affecting myself. Will you say why 1 am not deemed worthy to claim the hand of one whose heart I already possess? Is not my family as good as yours?” “William,” said Mr. Carlton, manifesting a good deal of excitement as he spoke, “I do not recognize your right to demand of me reasons for my conduct. I will sav, however, that the happiness of my child is in my keeping as a natural right, and I am bound to protect her in -every possible way. I regard only her happiness when I decline the offer made for her hand. I know the heart of Jessie well, and know that, if committed to your keeping, it will be a broken heart in less than live years —it may be in less than one.” “I love your daughter, Mr. Carlton,” re plied the young man to this. “Why should I break the heart of one I love ?” “William Levering, such love as yours falls upon the heart as a blight, not a blessing. I know you well, your principles and yourlife; both ate bad.” A red spot burned on the young man’s cheek, and liis eyes flashed. But Mr. Carlton looked calmly at him. “Think,” he added; “picture to yourself one of your companions in vice approaching your own sister, and offering the love of his corrupt heart. Would you not step between, abandoned as you are, and risk your very life, rather than permit the sacrifice?” “Mr. Carlton,” said Levering, “I cannot J permit you, nor any one else, to insult and j outrage me in this wav.” “As you like,” returned the other, coldly, j “You ask reasons for my conduct, but are j unwilling to hear them.” For a short time, there was silence, the young man standing in an attitude of irreso- © ° ... lulion. Then mutte mg something man un der tone, he retired from the presence of Mr. Carlton. A few hours afterwards, a servant tapped softly at the chamber door of Miss Carlton, | the young lady referred to in the brief con | versation just given. “What do you want, Philip ?” asked Jessie, j as she opened the door. The servant slipped a sealed note into her ; hand, w ith an air of secrecy, and then retired. Quickly re-entering her room and turning the key, Jessie broke the envelope of the bil let she had received and read what was writ ten within. The communication was from Iter lover. “1 have seen your father,” said he, “as you so earnestly desired, and the result of the in terview’ is just what l expected. He was not content with an angry denial of my suit, but threw me oft’ with smarting insult. He says I cannot make you happy. Heaven knows j how ardently I desire to fill your cup with ! joy, even until it overrun the brim. If the | passionate love of a sincere heart can make you happy, Jessie, then your whole life will be blessed. I cannot imagine the ground of dislike towards me. I have never injured him nor Ids. This opposition on his part makes me wretched. Are we, then, to re main ever separate ? or will you leave all, and throw’ yourself into my arms? I shall await your answer to this in the wildest im ! patience. Wbr you have made up your Timid, place your answer in the hands of Philip. He will keep our secret inviolate; for he is under obligations to me of the strong est character.” “My heart is wholly yours,” wrote Jessie, | iu repl\ T . “Shall heart and person longer be separa ted?” answered Levering. “To-morrow week, I hear, your father will leave home, to be gone several days. This 1 learn from Philip. What better opportunity to pass j from his protection to mine ?” Two days elapsed, and then the maiden wrote —“Let it be as you desire.” Weak and foolish maiden! In that decis ion how much was involved! Not the happi ness of a day or a year, but, it might be, ol a whole life-tune. What Mr. Carlton had said to Levering of his principles and his life was true. Both were had, and very had. He did not truly love J essie, for of that he was incapable. N o man who lacks virtue can love a woman tru ly. It is a moral impossibility. Levering had first turned his thoughts to marriage because it was necessary, as he said to himself, to form such an alliance. He be longed to a wealthy family, and, by marry ing into a family of equal wealth and stand ing, he would take proper care of the future. Os course, he must have a beautiful and ac complished wife. In looking around him, no one struck the young man’s faney so strong ly as Jessie Carlton; and, after weighing all in favor and against an alliance with her fam ily, decided to storm the citadel of her heart. Handsome, intelligent, and with a good ad dress, he was not long in making the impres sion he desired. J essie Carlton’s young heart was quickly won. Philip, a servant in the family of Mr. Carl ®l)c Southern Sentinel. j ton, whom Levering had secured to his inter est, was informed of the intended elopement, and employed to give such aid as his position ; would afford. Os course, the utmost secrecy ; was enjoined upon him ; and his faithfulness ; was sought to be secured by threats as well ; as promises. But Philip found it hard to 1 bear up alone under a secret of such great importance; he wanted someone to share with him the heavy burden. So, confiding in : the discretion of another servant in the house, a female, he divulged to her, after first obtain ing her promise not to betray what he was about to communicate, the fact of Jessie’s intended flight. On the night previous to the day on which Mr. Carlton was to leave home, he sat up late, engaged in writing. It was past eleven j o’clock, when there was a light tap at liis door, which opened immediately, and a female ser- I vant glided in noiselessly, closing softly the door after her. “Well, Hannah ?” said he, in a voice of in quiry, as she approached him, in a somewhat agitated manner. Hannah sank into a chair, so much disturb ed that it was some moments before she could speak. “Mr. Carlton,” she at length said, “oh, I have something dreadful to tell you.” “For Heaven’s sake, Hannah, speak out quickly then. What has happened?” ex claimed Mr. Carlton, agitated in return. “Nothing has happened yet; but, if you go away to-morrow, it will happen. Oh, sir, do not go away.” “Hannah, what is the meaning of this ? Speak out plainly at once.” “Miss Jessie ” “Jessie! What of her ?” “She is going off with Mr. Levering.” “When! Where is she?” The father was on his feet, and moved towards the door. “Speak, girl!” “Oh, sir, don’t be frightened,” said Han nah, “it isn’t to-night. Miss Jessie is in her room. 1 have only come to tell you about it in time.” “Ah! thank you, my faithful Hannah.” Mr. Carlton spoke in a calmer voice; and returning to the secretary where he had been writing, sat down again. “Now,” he added, “tell me all you know j about this matter.” “All I know,” replied Hannah, “I got to- 1 day from Philip, lie told me that he has | been carrying letters from Mr. Levering to ! Jessie and back again, for some time, and j that it is all arranged for her to go off with him, just at daylight, the morning after you j leave home.” “Can it be possible ? Mad girl!” exclaimed Mr. Carlton, passionately. “And you are j sure of all this, Hannah?” “Philip told me, and I’m afraid it is all j true.” “Very well, Hannah. I thank you from my heart for this act of duty. You have saved Jessie, it may be, from a life-time of misery. Mr. Levering is a bad man, and if she marries him he will make her wretched. ! Foolish, foolish girl! Could she not believe ! her father?” | After some further conference, the girl left | the room; and Mr. Carlton, closing his sec i rotary, walked on the floor for tiie space of ■an hour ere retiring. On the next day, great : ly to the surprise of Hannah, he left home at the time previously appointed. No sleep weighed down the eyelids of Jes sie Carlton during the night that succeeded. Through the long hours that intervened from the time the family retired until the hand of Aurora gently raised the curtain o! darkness from the east, she either walked the floor of her chamber or lay wakeful upon the bed. At the early dawn, she was to pass from beneath her father’s roof and from under his protec tion, committing unto another her destiny. Well might her heart tremble and grow faint as she tried to look into the dark future; well might she shrink back, half repentant, and hesitate about the step she had resolved to take. The silent midnight gives to the wake ful solemn thoughts. Such thoughts came to Jessie; and as the wind sighed through the trees or moaned beneath the eaves, it seemed j as if a spirit were addressing her in tones ol i warning. At last, a feeble line of light was seen up- ! on the horizon; and it gradually widened un- j j til the dawn appeared. Hun iedly throwing j a shawl around her, Jessie stood for some j minutes near the window, as if awaiting an j expected signal. Presently, a hand was laid ! upon the lock. Silently crossing the room, j she opened the door. Philip stood there with his finger upon his lip. “Is all right?” asked Jessie, in a low, agi tated whisper. “All is right,” returned the man. “Be quick; lie is waiting for you.” Gliding through the door, Jessie went noise lessly down the stairs. As she passed into the open air Levering received her, handing, as he did so, a purse of money to the treach erous servant as his promised reward. A few minutes prior to this a scene even more exciting than this took place a short distance from the mansion of Mr. Carlton, where a carriage stood in waiting for the fu gitives. The driver had left his box and was standing near his horses, when suddenly a man was by his side, pistol in hand, uttering, | in a low, peremptory voice, “Silence, and you | are safe!” The driver started hack a few paces in alarm, while the stranger who had presented his weapon kept it directed towards him. “Now leave these grounds as quickly as you can go,” said the intruder. The driver hesitated, when the sharp click of the pistol-lock was heard. “Go instantly!” repeated the man. “Your horses and carriage are safe. \on will find them at the Stag and Hound in an hour from this. Now go, if you set the value of a hair upon your life.” The driver, by this time thoroughly alarm ed, fled. As soon as he had left the ground the stranger mounted the box and grasped the | reins. Hardly had he taken his place ere I Levering and Jessie appeared, and hurriedly ! entered the carriage. “Where did you say I must drive ?” inquir j ed the man, leaning over from the box. j “To Mr. Liston’s. And see that no grass 1 grows beneath your horses’ feet.” The man spoke sharply to the spirited ani- I mals, and away they dashed at lull speed. Liston was a minister, who had been engaged to perforin the marriage service for Levering and Jessie. He lived in the town which lay a short distance from the beautiful residence of Mr. Carlton. In a lew minutes, the horses COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, APRIL 4, 1850. were reined up at the dwelling of the minis ter, when Levering sprang from the carriage, ; and lifting Jessie as she attempted to descend, | actually .bore her in his arms across the pave ment and into the house. Just as the fugitives disappeared, another vehicle drove up at a rapid pace. The self-constituted driver of Levering’s carriage left his own horses, and hurrying to the door of the second carriage, spoke rapidly a few words to someone with i in, and then, turning away, entered the minis ter’s house, and throwing off his rough hat and coat in the hall, presented the figure of a well dressed gentleman. For a few moments, he stood as if awaiting someone, while his ear was bent towards the door of the room that opened from the passage, to hear what was going on within. Then he placed his hand 1 on the door, and gently pushing it open, en- I tered. The young couple were already on the floor, and the minister, in his robes, stood before them, ready to begin the ceremony. So softly had the stranger entered that no one perceived his presence but the minister, who did not permit the intrusion to interfere with what he was doing. He began and progress ed until he came to that part of the ceremony in which it is demanded of those present to show cause why the parties about to be join ed in holy wedlock cannot enter that state, when the door of the room was thrown sud denly open and a woman rushed in, exclaim ing, “I forbid the bans!” “Who are you, and by what right do you forbid them ?” inquired the minister in an agitated voice. Levering and Jessie started at this unex pected interruption, and, turning, looked in astonishment both at the woman and the man. “Miss Carlton,” said the woman, coming up to Jessie and grasping her arm, “you have no right to this man; he belongs to me by a prior claim that I will not see cancelled. There is your natural protector”—and she drew her, with a sudden jerk, across the room towards the man who had entered just before her —“your father. And in Heaven’s name let no man like this tempt you thus madly from his side again !” Jessie scarcely heard the closing words of this sentence. Overcome by so dreadful a termination of her elopement, she sank into I the arms of her father, for it was he who had ! driven her to the minister’s. Before the vile companion of his unbridled hours, Levering stood, for a few moments, ! covered with shame and confusion. “Now’ go, young man,” said Mr. Carlton i sternly, as he supported the form of his child ; | “go with this frail, unhappy creature, whom ! you have reduced from virtue to a level with yourself. Go, consort with her as your equal, ; but dream not again of .an alliance with the pure being I have saved from your unhallow :ed grasp. She can never be yours. If, be- I fore, 3’ou could deceive her into the belief ! that you were an angel of light, the power of deception is now gone, for you stand before : her in all your native corruption and deform | ity. Go, sir!” ! Confounded by a denouncement so painful ; and humiliating, Levering, as soon as he could i collect his bewildered senses, sprung from the | room. As he gained the open air, the driver | who had been so suddenly deprived of his ; carriage, came up. Levering hurriedly en ! tered the vehicle, exclaiming—“ Drive me ; home!” | The man needed not a second invitation to j mount his box. Quick as thought, he had ; the reins in his hands, and the horses were 1 soon springing before him at a gallop. The reader doubtless understands all this w ithout further explanation; and Levering had few inquiries to make ere he comprehend ed the whole affair to more than liis entire satisfaction. As for Jessie, she too under stood enough to make her heart sink in her bosom and tremble whenever she thought of the narrow escape she had made from an al liance that could only have produced wretch edness, if it would not have borne her down to the grave in a few short years, with a bro ken heart.— Godcy’s Lady’s Book. Female Supremacy. —We may as well submit without complaining—we may as well make the best of it, and say as little as pos sible about it, for a great overthrow of all mankind will soon take place, and our places i. e. the places of “lords,” will soon he filled with the “ladies” of creation. The women folks are getting the better of us; they are getting a great sight smarter than we ever be gan to be, and they will soon rise to the top. In a town out west, a female has had the bold-facedness to assert that if her husband was chairman of the selectmen, she it was who ordered everything, and though he put on airs and advanced measures, they all orig inated with her. It has been whispered in certain circles that Mrs. Bliss, the President’s daughter, has also an idea about public mat ters, and her tongue has considerable weight | with a certain old gentleman who sits firmly in the Presidential chair. She is consulted, ! even, upon matters and things, and the Gen-. ! oral, like Coleridge, may place faith in the in ! stinctive suggestions of women. What na ; tion apparently enjoys more prosperity than i that isle over which reigns the prolific Victo i ria, who finds time to bless the country with ! an annual prince, regulate its affairs, and not ‘ to neglect the nursery ? She is a glorious lit tle sovereign, and is beloved by all her people —and what is still more, possesses a rare sac- I ulty of keeping the country quiet, and all the ! world at peace with her. In the literary ■world, also, look at the su ! premacy of petticoats. Park Beniamin and 1 Elizur Wright deserted the newspaper—they i couldn’t make it grind out the substantial, but there is Mrs. Jane G. Swisshelm and Mrs. I Pierson, who flourish as editors. Look at the popular authors. In France, Madame Dudavand (George Sond) holds the powerful j pen, and not only in romance, but in the able I review and political paper, is her power felt. 1 In England, Mary Howitt and Mrs. Ellis are writers of strong minds; in this country, Mrs. Sigourney, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. Judson,i and a host of others, occupy the highest rank, i and Frederika Bremer, who belongs to the whole world, has some claim to pre-eminence j as an author. The feminine is certainly ‘above par in the ; I market—the ladies are making bold strides towards the goal, and there is an increasing | competition, which it behooves every true | | son of woman to take note of.— Boston Eve. \ Gazette. On his death-bed, a distinguished humor ist requested that no one might be invited to 1 his funeral, “because,” sighed the dying wag,! “it is a civility I can never repay.” Blount Vernon. BY ORMOND. It was a wish, cherished from childhood, to tread upon the spot consecrated as the home and lovely resting-place of George Wash ington. Some years had rolled on the car of time, and brought many a change over the spirit of | my youthful dreams, but this desire had nev er relaxed its hold upon my heart. And why should it ? If the w’ild Mussulman w’ill cheerfully en dure the hardships of a pilgrimage across the broad and trackless deserts of Arabia, to pay his homage at the shrine of his false leader— if the antiquarian will toil with the self-devo tion of a martyr, to identify the grave of some sage or bard, whose body, centuries since, mouldered beneath the clods of the valley—if the stoical Indian, when driven from his native land, as from some high emi nence he casts his last lingering glance back upon his home, with throbbing heart ejacu lates, “Oh ! the graves of my fathers!” why, I ask, may not an American delight to visit the former home, and drop a grateful tear at the urn of the Great Father of his country ? Circumstances had brought me to the me tropolis w’hich bears his name, and I at once determined so favorable an opportunity should not be lost. Accordingly, one bright morning in June, three of my friends and myself chartered a sailboat, with the inten tion of visiting this spot, and enjoying the additional pleasure afforded by a view of the beautiful and picturesque scenery which eve rywhere borders the Potomac between Washington and Mount Vernon. To de scribe the fine view of Alexandria—the high bluffs and gentle slopes so agreeably alterna ting on either bank of this noble river—the stately farm-houses of the wealthy Virginia proprietors—the little white cabin of the fish erman, close by the water’s edge—the dense primeval forests and shady parks—the bold front of Fort Washington, whose black en gines of death, looking out across the dark channel, under the “floating stars and stripes,” bid defiance to the foes of freedom—would be foreign to my purpose. Suffice it to say, then, that after a pleas ant voyage of a few hours, quite unexpected ly the little cupola, from an opening amid tiie shaded trees, told us the welcome nows of our approach to the hallowed spot. We hastened to land, and stand upon the soil once trod by the foot of him whose name has become the watchw’ord of freedom in ev ery portion of the civilized globe. We ascended the eminence, on which stands this venerable mansion, through a for est which covers the entire slope towards the river, and gives it so romantic and lovely, an appearance. The outbuildings which first came in view bore the marks of age and dilapidation, al though, despite these scars of time, traces of their former neatness and precision could ea sily be detected by the careful observer. ‘Phe old mansion-house itself bears its years remarkably well, and with a little care and protection, in its old age, undoubtedly would stand for a long time yet. It is built after the ancient style of architecture, adopt ed by the affluent planters of the “Old Do minion,” fifty or a hundred years ago, front ed on the river side with a light piazza, and crowned with a little cupola. Mr. W., the present proprietor, very kindly gave us permission to wander over the prem ises at our pleasure, and directed a servant to show us through those parts of the house strangers are permitted to visit. We were at first shown through the large hall, or main entrance, in which hangs in a glass case the celebrated key of the Bastile, presented to Washington by Lafayette. There is nothing about it terrific or forbid ding, nothing indicative of the horrid tragedies in which it has acted a part. There it hangs, a silent monitor of “man’s inhumanity to man.” Under it is placed an “Old Arm Chair,” of rather antique appearance, occu pied by him in his hours of study. Passing from the hall through a small room which had been set apart as tiie pr ivate study of Washington, and in which he was accus tomed to transact all his business of state in retirement, we noticed among the paintings j of revolutionary memory which decorate the wall, a fine miniature of him, said to be the most accurate ever taken. We then entered the large room in which he entertained his visitors. In one corner stands an organ, and some other rtlics in va rious parts of the room; but by far the most curious object is the marble mantle. This also was presented by Lafayette. It is of tine Italian marble, ornamented with figures in bass relief of the most splendid workman ship. They are representations of rural scenes, and such as would have well suited him who preferred the olive of peace to the laurel of war. A's we walked from the house towards the garden, we were met by deer bounding through the park, and cheered by the melodi ous notes of the birds that carolled amid the wide-spreading boughs above us. There, too, time’s effacing finger had done its work since the great and good man de parted, leaving but few mementos, feeble links connecting the past with the present. We were, however, much delighted with the neat order and arrangement of its plats— the choice and beautiful flowers and plants —the orange and lemon trees heavily laden with their golden fruit, which are thriving un der their present owner. Leaving these, and following a rugged, broken pathway which led us down towards the bank of the river, we soon stood by the sleeping ashes of George Washington ! No strong enclosure forbids too near approach. No lofty marble pile astonishes the eye. He | rests as he lived, in all the simplicity of na ture. The tomb is built of brick, plain and I unadorned. The door is made of bars of iron, through which may be seen the marble | sarcophagus in which he reposes ip the sleep I of death, and by his side that of his beloved ! companion in life. On the top of his, are the j coat of arms of his country, and the simple I inscription “General George Washington.” On hers, “Mary Washington.” On a small marble slab, placed above the door, is the following: “Within this enclosure rests the remains of Gen. George Washington.” The tall oak, intervening its branches w ith ! the cypress and laurel, overshadow it, remind ing us of his firmness, his fame, and his loss, i The wild vine clambers up to its top. In short, nature seems to have claimed die right of adorning the tomb of her tavorite j son, and may the hand of man never dese crate it. As I gathered a few relics from the sacred spot, what a crowd of associations came up ! The virtuous and upright boy— the hardy and persevering youth, survevin iT the wild mountains of his native State—the brave young soldier on the colonial frontier * —the bold champion of independence—the \ ! confidant of all his countrymen—the fearless leader of her armies—the spirit that inspired fortitude in suffering, firmness in danger, ■ moderation in success —the victorious hero ! resigning his mighty sword—the humble eiti- \ zen in voluntary retirement —the chief of a great republic by the unanimous voice- of a grateful nation—and at last the calm and re signed captive of the great victor of victors. While these and similar reflections came in crowded and hurried succession through my : mind, I leaned upon the tomb and wrote the following lines: George Washington ! Immortal name! Remotest shores have heard thy fame ; Freedom’s hist knell on earth shall toll, Potomac her tide to roll, Ere on thy deeds oblivion fall, And o’er thy name spread her dark pall. The Lost Tribes. Major Noah, in an interesting article in his Sunday Times, is of the opinion that the Tea ; lost Tribes of Israel were the originators of the cities whose ruins strew Mexico and Cen tral America. He concludes thus from a va- j liety of circumstances, and especially from the fact that all our tribes of Indians bear-! ing the strongest marks of Asiatic origin, are | identified with the Israelites by the following rites: 1. Their belief in one God. 2. In then computation of time by their ceremonies of the new moon. 3. In their divisions of the j year into four seasons. 4. In their erection of a temple, having an ark of the covenant, and also in their erection of altars. 5. By j the division of the nation into tribes, \vith a ; chief or general sachem at their head. G. Bv 1 their law’s of sacrifices, ablutions, marriages,! ceremonies in war and in peace, prohibitions j of eating certain things, by traditions, histo- j ry, character, appearance, affinity of their j language to the Hebrew, and finally by that everlasting covenant of heirship exhibited in a perpetual transmission of its seal in their flesh, a custom only of late relinquished. The Phoenicians (Canaanites) had dis covered the continent 500 years previous ; to the migration of the Israelites, and wore, it is assumed, the builders of the pyra mids of Mexico and Central America, and of IV.enque, Cholula, Oturnba, Tlasealu, and other cities of which the ruins now excite our astonishment; and also the intro ducers of hieroglyphics, plenisphenes, zodi acs, temples, military roads, viaducts and bridges from Egypt, Tyre, Babylon and Carthage. In the apocryphal book of Es dras, of great antiquity, it is said : “Whereas, thou sawest another peaceable multitude; these are the ten tribes which were carried away prisoners out of their own land, in the time of Osea, whom Sahnaneze, King of Assyria, led away captive, and he carried them over the waters, so they came unto another land. “They took this counsel among themselves that they would leuve the multitude of the heathen, and go into a further country where in never mankind dwelt, that they might there keep their statutes, which they never kept in their own land, (Assyria,) and there was a great way to go, namely, a year and j a half.” According to Major Noah’s theory, they j marched towards the north-east coast of | Asia ; some remained in Tartary, and many j went into China, where they have been 1000 i years, and are numerous to this day. The | main body crossed at Bhe. ing’s Straits to I our continent, the more hardy keeping to the north, Hudson’s Bay and Greenland; the more cultivated passed down on the shores of the Pacific, through California to Mexico, Central America anti Peru, where they met j their ancient enemies the Canaanites, (Phoe nicians) whom, as once before, they dispos sessed of the country. Furthermore, it is contended that they resided in California when the ships of Solomon made their three years’ voyage, and furnished the gold of O- i I phir to build the temple ; also that they are ; | the settlers and proprietors of Mexico, Peru, and the whole American continent, and have been here centuries before the advent of Christianity, and patiently wait tire promises of redemption. William Penn, in writing of the Indians, said: “i found them with like countenances to the Hebrew race. 1 consider these people j under a dark night, yet they believe in God [ and immortality, without the aid of meta- ; physics. They reckon by moons—they of fer their first ripe fruits —they have a kind of tabernacles—they are said to lay their altars with twelve stones —they mourn a year— and observe the Mosaic law with regard to separation.” These facts, with the opinion of McKenzie, Bartram, Beltram Smith, Penn, Menassa, j Bern Israel, the Earl of Crawford, Lopez de i Gamara, Acosta, Malvenda, Major Long,! Budanot, and Catlin, all eminent writers and travellers, go to prove that the “ten lost j tribes” were the progenitors of the race and : ideas found in the New World on its diseov- ; cry by Columbus. Curious. —lt has frequently happened that persons supposed to be dead, have been bu ried alive, and on the other hand, persons ac tually dead have been supposed to be still alive. A case of this kind is at present pro ducing great excitement in Frederick, Md. A fine lad of 16 died after a few days’ illness, of erysipelas, the only indication of which i-> a small pimple on his lip, which is much swollen. He had lain apparently dead for more than two weeks, with cheeks as rosy as in health, lips of a natural life color, limbs pliant and having no rigidity, as in death, eyes ; not sunken, and yet the Doctors say that he is dead, although he gave no evidence of de cay. It is very singular.— Balt. Sun. “I say, Bob, you have boon to Cai.tm, havn’t you ?” “Yes.” “Well, you can speak China ?” “Ye-e-es, a little; that is, I sneak broken china. 1 ’ A shrewd old gentleman once said to his daughter, “Be sure, my dear, you never marry a poor man, but remember that the poorest man in the world is one that has mon -1 ey and nothing else.” Clay, Webster and Calhoun. To any one who has been in the habit of visiting Washington during the present win ter, nothing will impress him more than the appearance, respectively, of the three vene rable statesmen whose names w r e have placed at the head of this article. The stranger who comes to the national capital for the first time, even before he has seen Pennsylvania Avenue, asks to be shown C'lav, Webster and Calhoun. And when they are pointed out to him how he will be surprised ! Youn ger looking, and younger really than either, is Mr. Clay, and amazingly vigorous too, (as his last great speech in the Senate will show) and yet what a shadow’ he is of the bold, fear less and dashing statesman, who for the best part ol half a century has electrified our new world by his eloquence, and agitated it by his measures; and who is at this moment a ; living link connecting the Present with the i Past! See him in his blue cloak, with long I beeves, cane in hand, perambulating the : streets with wide but certain steps, and head i declined, with all his efforts to keep it ereet; : and the stranger will be disappointed, even ; and the more observant and more experienced ! spectator is pleased to see the veteran wear i so well. | lake next Daniel Webster. Upon him the | change effected by a few brief years has been I terrible. 1 ime has passed heavily over him. He walks with slow and measured stride to : the Senate Chamber, and pays little atten ! tion to those who gaze upon him. His cheek is pallid. Ilis clothes hang loosely upon his feeble frame. His step is not firm. But look into his eye, which, deep as a diamond in | a cavern, glows in his head, and you will see j that intellect is burning bl ight w ithin him. Note him in his seat in the august Senate I Chamber. Sombre, silent and solitary, he ; sits apart, rarely relaxing into a smile, rarely ; replying to an appeal, and literally glower ing upon the busy scene before him, with : out taking part in the exercise. But rouse that massive mind ; and then all men, all par- I ties, bow before the genius that has illumin | atetKjur annals and defended our Constitu i tion. We are not politically a disciple of j Mr. W ebster; but we thank God that such a man as he is still living, to remind us that I there are duties that rise entirely above party. | And now for John C. Calhoun. The last time we saw Mr. Calhoun was on a cold day | in December, as, with his closely buttoned j surtout, (for he wore no cloak,) he rapidly : walked to the capitol. His step was firm— -1 his form erect —his eye bright as a star in a j moonless sky. Glorious Calhoun! we differ | from thee in some things; and yet we admire | and venerate thee. Here, now, is a purely j intellectual man. He worships his favorite studies; cares nothing lor the festive board ; eats sparingly ; and luxuriates either in eluci dating some difficult problem, or in speaking to chosen friends of his daring South, her duty and her destiny. Mr. Calhoun’s con versational powers are extraordinary. He talks elegantly and with exquisite clearness. His friends love him not so much for his cause, as for the manner in which he sus tains his cause. lie is an unexceptionable moral man. His severe tastes and stern ex ample have made a school of somewhat as cetic politicians in South Carolina. They are certainly disinterested ; they are unques tionably independent. And they are notori ously brave and thorough going in whatever they undertake. We do not especially ad mire their examples, but we should like to see the North imitating South Carolina in two things, at least; and those are, in send ing none but her best men to Congress, and keeping them there until they are no longer fit to reflect credit upon themselves and their constituents. This is the secret of Southern ascendency at Washington, so much com plained of by shallow politicians at the North. Since the assembling of the present ses* sion of Congress, each of these aged men have spoken of the slave question. Mr. Web ster and Mr. Calhoun have taken high and [ patriotic ground lor the Union, at all hazards, I and under all circumstances. They spoke • like men who felt that they had but a short : time to live; and they pleaded for the contin [ uance of the bond winch unites these States I with the impassioned eloquence of “auld lang | syne.” Mr. Calhoun paid an unusual tribute to the Union, by rising to disavow a suspi cion to the effect that lie favored disunion— which is unhappily too often the policy of his strange philosophy. When his speech was concluded, the veteran trio met in front of the ] ice President’s chair, and joined hands. What a moment that for the artist! What different emotions must have actuated them! How, as each scanned the worn features of the other, their minds reverted back to the scenes through which they had passed, and j forward to the future, in which others would ;be called to fill the perilous positions from which they are about to retire. No (hree living men have ever so completely enlisted, the affections of their friends, or wielded so much influence upon the nation at large. They have seen the country in its early youth, and have assisted its growth to pros perity, with the jealous care of confiding parents. Two of them at least were fore j most in support of the last war with Great ; Britain ; and Mr. Webster sealed his devo ! tion to the country by his memorable speech against nullification in 1833. They have often differed—and sometimes harshly and vehemently ; but age has calmed their pas sions and diminished their prejudices ; and they now stand upon the verge of that “bourne whence no traveller returns,” and look with just pride upon that country they i are about to leave to Freedom and the : world—the bond of whose Union is strength j ened by the attrition of opinions, and so en j abled to defy the attempts of its opponents ito weaken or to sunder it. May these vet : eran statesmen live many years, to see all | their honest hopes fulfilled and all their hon ; est fears disappointed.— Pennsylvanian. NO. 14. A Good Irish Anecdote. —Some years since, when the beautiful painting of Adam and Eve was exhibited in Ireland, it became tho chief topic of conversation. I- mally a i poor, ragged, illiterate peasant went to see | it. The light was so arranged as to reflect on the picture, and leave the spectator in comparative darkness. The peasant as he : entered the room to see his first parents, was struck with so much astonishment, that he remained speechless lor some moments. Ho stood like a statue, and as though his feet were incorporated with the oaken floor of the room. At last, with an effort, he turned to an acquaintance and said: | “Barney, I’ll niver say another word again Adam in all my life, for if I had been in the % ! garden, I would ate ivery apple in it for the ; sake of such a lovely crather as Eve.” It is needless to add that this was received with roars of laughter. Female Doctors.— Two young ladies, whose names are given as Miss Almira Fraim and Miss Mary Ward, have become regular students in the medical department of the Memphis Institute. If they are only pretty, what a practice they will have among sick young men!