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THE SOUTHERN SENTINEL Is published every Thursday Morning, IN COLUMBUS, GA. BY WILLIAM H. CHAMBERS, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. To whom all c<munuuieation.?rriti?tl>e directed, post paid. ■ OJke on Randolph Street. Terms of Subscription. One copy twelve months, in advance, - - $2 50 “ “ Not in advance, -3 00 ” “ Six “ “ “ - 1.50 tJW” Where the sub-cription is not paid durinp the year, 15 cents will be charged for every month’s delay. No subscription will be received lor 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, - flO 00 Ten “ “ 16 00 C. 5?” The money from flubs must in all cases ac company the names, or the price of a single subscription wiH be charged. Rates of Advertising. One Square, first’insertion, - - $1 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 as new Ad vertisements at each insertion. Legal Advertisements. N. R—Sales of Lands, by Administrators, Ex ecutors, or Guardians,are required by law to beheld on the tir.t Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 in tin; 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 lie given in a public gazette sixty days previous to the day of sale. Sales of Nforoes must be made at a public auction on tlu- first Tuesday of the month, between the usual hours of sale, at the place of public sabs in the county where the Is-tter* Testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship.may have been granted, first giving sixty dats notice thereof in one of the public gazettes of this State, and at the door of the Court House, where such sales are to be held. Notice for the sale of Personal property must be give n in like manner forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an estate must be published FORTY pays. Notice that application w ill be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, musj be published for rot-R MONTHS. Notice for leave to sell Negroes must be published for four months, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. Citations for Letters of Administration, must be pub lished thirty days—for dismission from administration, monthly six months —for dismission fiom Guardianship, FORTY DAYS. Rites for the foreclosure of a Mortgage must be pub lielied monthly for fovr months —for establishing lost papers, tor the full stage of three months —for com pelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a Ifond has ben given by the deceased, the full space of three months. Publications will always be continued according to these legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. SOUTHERN SENTINEL Job Office. HAVING received anew and extensive assortment of Job Material, we are prepared to execute at this office, all orders for JOB WORK,in amanner which can not be excelled in the .State, on very liberal terms, and at the shortest notice. We feel confident of our ability to give entire .satisfac tion in every variety of Job Printing, including* Boohs, Business Cards, Pamphlets, Bill Heads, Circulars, ’ Blanks of every description, Hand Bills, Bills of Lading, Posters, tyc. i$ c. In short, all descriptions 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. BERTHOLD SENGF.R WOULD respectfully inform the ladies and gentle men of Columbus, and vicinity, that he is still at his old stand on Broad Street, near the Market, where he is prepared to execute all work entrusted to him, in the various departments of Dveiu;', Scouring, Renovating, & Bleaching new and old clothing. Ladies’ Silk'*, Mcrinoes, and Katin*, cleansed of stains and unpuntic?, and colored to any shade. Also finished to look and wear as well as new’. Cotton, Silk, and Woolen floods bleached or dyed, in the very beet manner, and with despatch. Also, Moserinc Blue, Turkey Red, &.c. -scc. Gentlemen’s garments cleansed and dyed so as not to soil the whitest linen. Carpeting renovated and made as good as new. J3r .All orders thankfully received and promptly ex ecuted. Columbus, March 21. 1850. 12 ts Planters, Take Notice. Saw Mills , Crist Mills, Factories, Gin Gear, Rice Mills, and Sugar Mills. rpHF. firm of AMBLER & MORRIS are now JL reade to build any of the. above-named Mills,pro j>cll©d by Water. Steam or Horse. Our work shall done in the best possible manner, and warranted inferior to none now in use. Both ol the above firm are practi cal men, and attend to their business in person, and will furrir-h Engines for Steam Mills. Grist or Saw, and set either in complete operation. The firm can give the best assortment of Water Wheels and Gearing, of any in the Southern States, and will say to our employers, if a Mill or any of our work does not perform in the busi ness for which it was intended, no pay will be exacted. Trv us and see. AMBLER Sc MORRIS. Jan. 21, 1850. . 4 !y Important TO MILL OWNERS AND PLANTERS. rpHE undersigned will contract for building Rocx JL Dams, or anv kind of rock work and ditching, in anv part of till” State or Georgia, in the most improve-! manner. TIMOTHY B. COLLINS, Fort Mitchell, Russell, County, Ala. _ Dec. 6, 1819. 49 Cm To Physicians, Druggists COUNTRY MERCHANTS. DR. J. N. KEELER 1&. BRO. most respectfully solicit attention to their fresh stock of English, French,German and American Drugs. Medicine*,Cnem icals. Faints, Oils, Dye-stutVe. Glassware,Perfumery, See. Having opened anew - store, No. 291 Market St., with a full supply of Fresh Drugs and Medicine?, we respect fully solicit country dealers to examine our stock before purchasing elsewhere, promising one and all who may be disposal to extend us their patronage, to sell them genuine Drugs and Medicines, on as liberal terms as any other house in 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 ot all articles sold at their es tablishment . 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 or LKO. Wholesale Druggists, No. 919 Market St., Phil a. Oct H. 1819. iy Marble Works, East side Broad St. near the Market House, COLUMBUS, GA. HAVE constantly on hand all kinds of Grave Stones, Vonumenfs, Tombs and Tablets, of American, Italian and Irish Marble. Engraving and carving ! done on stone in the Inst possible manner ; and all kinds : of Granite Work at the shorte^nofiett, P. S.—Plaister of Paris and Cement, always on hand for sale. • Columbus, March 7, 1850. * WINTER’S PALACE 31 ILLS. 1 FAMILIES, by leaving their-names with me, can be , supplied regularly by my W agon, at their residences, with MEAL and HOMINY, of best quality. j JO. JEFFERSON, Clerk. ! Feb, 28, 1850. __ *_ NORTH CAROLINA Blutnal Life Insurance Company. LOCATED AT RALEIGH, N. C. rpHF. Charter of tins company gives important advan tages to the assured, over most other companies. The husband can insure his own life for the sole use and benefit of his wife and children, free from any other j claims. Persons who insure tor life participate in the profits which are declared annually, and when the pre- 1 maun exceeds S3O, may pay one-halt’ in a note. Slaves are insured at two-thirds their v alue for one or five years. , Applications for Risks may be made to JUMIS Ml NN, Apent. Columbus, Ga. Office at Greenwood & Co.’s Wart-house. Nov. 15,1849. *_ WINTER’S PALACE MILLS HAVE now a coon supply of fresh gronnd Flour, of three qualities; say FINE, SUPERFINE, and FANCY brands; each kind is made from the best of Western Wheat, and the only difference is the color. The urice bv retail is. for Fine, $3 per half barrel; Su perfine S3 25 per half barrel; Fancy, $3 50 per half barrel. Discount made to those who buy to sell again. Quarter barrels arc sold proportionately cheap. JO JEbFEUSON, Clerk. Dec 27 1849. 57* VOL. I. Written at My Mother’s Grave. BY GEORGE D. PRENTICE. The trembling dew drops fall Upon the shutting flowers—like souls at rest— The stars shine gloriously—and all, Save one, is blest. Mother —I love thy grave f The violet, with it? blossoms blue and mild, Waves o’er thy head—when shall it wave Above thy child ? ’Tis a sweet flower—yet must Its bright leaves to the coming tempest bow, Dear mother—'us thine emblem—dust Is on thy brow 1 And I could love to die — To leave untasted life’s dark, bitter streams By thee, as erst in childhood, lie, And share thy dreams. And must I linger here To stain the pluming? of my sinless years, And mourn the hopes to childhood dear With bitter tears ? Aye—must I linger here, A lonely branch upon a blasted tree, Whose last frail le-af, untimely sere, Went down with thee I Oft from life’s withering bower, In'still communion with the past I tum, And inusc on thee, the only flower In memory’s urn. And, when the evening pale, Bows like a mourner on the dim, blue wave, I stray to hear the night-winds wail, Around thy grave. Where is thy spirit flown ! I gaze above—thy look is imaged there— -1 listen and thy gentle tone Is on the air. Oh come—whilst here I press My brow upon thy grave—and, in those mild And thrilling tones of tenderness, Bless, bless, thy child ? Yes, bless thy weening child. And o’er thy um—religion’s holiest shrine— Oh give his spirit undetiled To blend with thine. RECTITUDE OF THE DIVINE ADMIN ISTRATION. A DISCOURSE. Suggested by the Death of the Hon. John C. Calhoun. Delivered in the Methodist Church of Columbia, S. C., on Sunday, April 7, 1850, by the Rev. YVhiteford Smith, D. D. “ Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right)” [Genesis xvhi, 25.] The interrogation of the text, my Christian brethren, implies two great truths. The first, that there is a God, whose superintending prov idence is over all his works. The second, that it is impossible for Him to do wrong. Nor let it be supposed that these are abstract truths, which I have no application to the practical affairs of I life; for, in the perpetual vicisitude of human j fortune, in the innumerable trials and afflictions j incident to mortal life, what support can be I found for the heirs of sorrow like that which is j furnished by the consideration that a just and j gracious God presides over the universe, direct- j irig and controlling all its events, for purposes j of infinite w isdom and goodness? And espe cially, when the dispensation of lTis providence are inscrutable and mysterious; when all the ! powers of reason are inadequate to comprehend his designs; what other refuge is there for the mind and heart, but an humble and faithful re liance on the essential attributes of God ? Thus, ! when the cities of the plain were doom ed to destruction, and it pleased the Almigh ty to reveal to his servant Abraham their ap proaching overthrow, and when the patri arch became the intercessor, and would plead their cause, the strong argument with which he emboldened himself before his Maker, was the language of the text, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?” And when the judgment was executed, and Abraham looked, “and lo! the 6moke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace,,” though he might mourn over their ruin, vet doubtless, his heart was sustain ed by its faith in the rectitude of the Divine Ad ministration. So, too, when the tidings of disaster upon disaster came to Job, until the in elligence of his affliction seemed too much for nature to sustain, “he fell down upon the ground and worshipped,” saying, “Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return hither: the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” How much more accordant with the dignity of man and the teachings of a pure philosophy, is such a submission to the behests of heaven, than the frantic ravings of an Atheist, who would fain deny the existence of the hand beneath whose blow he falls! In the history of nations, as well as in the ex perience of individuals, there are constantly oc curring occasions for the exercise of these salu- j tary reflections. For national calamities as j well as for private griefs, there is the same hea- ; venly solace—“the Lord hath prepared his j throne in the heavens, and his kingdom ruleth ; over all. You will readily perceive the appropriateness ! of these thoughts to our present circumstances, j But the last Sabbath, the pleasant chime of the ; church-going bells was suddenly changed into the slow and §olemn toll—the death-knell of the departed. With electric rapidity w’ere the ti dings spread, that one of the most illustrious of our country’s Senators was numbered with the dead. That he who, was but a few days before, with the promise of returning strength, had lift ed up his voice in the Capitol in defence of the dearest interests of his State, was now no more. The loss of this distinguished statesman is re cognized as a national affliction. His name has long been inscribed upon his country’s bright est page, enrolled among her most honored sons. But to the State which gave him birth, and to which he ever acknowledged his first legiancc due, his loss is no ordinary bereave ment When a good and virtuous man dies, whose generous acts have endeared him to the community in which he lived, Iriends and neigh bors gather around his bier, and many a tear of sympathy is 6hed. But there is a deeper sor row felt by those who knew him as husband, father, brother. Theirs is a grief which stran gers cannot know; and the habitation which his presence invested with joy is filled with “mourning, lamentation and wo.” Such is the affliction of South Carolina at the death of the late Hon. John C. Calhoun. * Your attention might be occupied with the re cital of his career. The virtues which adorn his character; the profound phylosophy which displayed itself in all he said; the utter forget fulness of self in his devotion to his State and country, might well form the theme of a long discourse. But these appropriately belong to another occasion. They will be w ritten upon the pages of history—they will be engraven up on the hearts of posterity. You will allow me to tum your attention now to those sacred lessons which most befit the day, and which this mournful event is well calculated to impress on every breast If the first lesson we should learn from this affliction be drawn directly-from the text, it will be an acknowledgment of the justice ot God, and submission to his will. Revealed religion affords the only rational view of the divine na ture. While it proclaims the supremacy of | God, it exhibits all his attributes in perfect har. j mony. His benevolence is not lost amid the | aulic reign; nor justice forgotten in the exercise iof an infinite compassion- His eternal wisdom ®je Sentinel, directs his almighty power; and although “his judgments are unsearchable, and his ways past finding out,” they aro stli consistent w ith his essential goodness. Though “clouds and dark ness are round about him, yet righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne.” Un fortunately for us, it is but too characteristic of our fallen nature to murmur at the dispensa tions of an all-wise Providence, because we can not comprehend its purposes; and foolishly to judge the act of Heaven rather than piously submit to his will. We forget that our trailty should teach us our dependence, and that our ignorance should prompt us to faith. When the dearest hopes we have cherished are.blight ed in an hour, and the props upon which we have leaned arc suddenly removed, instead of turning our eyes upward and exhorting our hearts to trust in God, we look only to the des olation around us, and “sorrow even as others which have no hope.” We challenge the wis dom of the dispensation which we cannot un derstand, and often impute injustice to the mor al Governor of the world. Forgetful that our sins have deserved chastisement, we are resist ful under the stroke of his hand. Forgetful of the mercy that gave, we think only of the judgment which has taken away. Our grati tude for the benefaction we have long enjoyed is lost in our grief for its removal; and our thoughts of God are frequently as ungrateful as they are unjust. Such, iny brethren, is the gloom which surrounds us when we cast aside the word of inspired truth, and depend upon the uncertain teachings of darkened reason— when w r e forget. “The divinity that stirs within us; that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man ;” and look only to the brief and little interests that attach to our present state. The brightest il lustrations of a fortitude that endures without complaint, of a heroism that triumphs over all obstruction, investing humanity with a dignity more than earthly, have been found in those whose faith had based itself upon the word of God, and whose gaze was fixed, not upon the fading glories of this world, but upon that exalt ed and enduring scene. “ Wlicre seraphs gather immortality from life’s tree.’’ The eye of sense can discover in many a dis pensation of Providence naught but “shadows, clouds and darkness;” but the eye of faith piercing through the gloom, discerns far beyond the all-guiding hand, and relies for safety and for succour upon him who dwells in the ineffa ble brightness. What though the dispensation be shrouded in mysterious darkness? What though the infinite designs exceed our thoughts? “Bhall mortal man be more just than God?”— Shall we charge the Almighty with injustice, because he has not made us his counsellors'? There wili come a day when God will vindicate his own administration—when the results of his present operati®ns shall have developed thsmselves—when the mind in its nobler state shall be freed from the shackles of ignorance and prejudice and error which encircle it here— when truth will assert her prerogative—when the light of eternity shall shine upon all his works; —and then shall every heart acknowl edge his justice, his wisdom and his goodness. When the sensual shall have shrunk into his own corruption, and the spiritual shall have ascended to its own immortality, then shall the Just One receive universal homage, and the righteousness of Cod shall be the splendor of his throne. If we consider the relation in which we stand to our great Creator, it will be the dictate of reason, as it is the doctrine of revelation, that we should yield implicit submission to his will. If there is any good use to which adversity may be made sufficient, it is the part of wisdom to find it out. A repining fretfulness over misfor tune never lightened the burden nor brought comfort to the complaining spirit; and an hum ble acknowledgment of the w ord of God, and a meek submission to his chastenings, have often brought tranquiiity to the troubled heart, and lighted with the ray of celestial hope the other wise impenetrable gloom. It is permitted the Christian to regard every afflictive dispensation either as part of the dis cipline by which he is fitted for heaven, or as a visitation of mercy sent him in disguise. The restraints which are exercised over passion may be painful, nevertheless they are necessary and good. The heavens may be clothed with black ness, yet they teem with fertilizing rains. The thunder-storm may be terrible to the eye, yet it may purify the noxious air. In the whole econ omy of nature lias God instituted such analogies that we may learn to trust him in the darkest hours, and u ider the severest trias of faith. De prived of such a comlurt as this trust iti God inspires, many a grief were too intolerable to be borne— “A night that gloom? us in the noontide ray, And warps our thought at banquets, in the shroud.” Another important lesson which the late mournful event is well calculated to teach us, is the frailty and vanity of man. Death ought to be at all times impressive; but when he has selected “a shining mark,” and his victim is ta ken from among the luminaries of the land— when the eye of genius is dimmed, and and the voice of the eloquent orator is hushed in ever lasting silence, and the wisdom of the prudent counsellor has perished—then with w’hat force* come the words of-inspiration—“ Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches.” However melancholly it may be to witness the instability of all human good, the impotency of man to resist the progress of decay, and the power of death—to behold the bright and intel lectual light extinguished in the darkness of thd’ grave, and the overthrow of high hopes and no ble aspirations; it is w-ell that we should pause and linger upon the painful subject, for though the countenance may be sad, yet the heart may be made better. The busy scene in which we live naturally takes up our thoughts and atten tion, and it is with difficulty that they are called off’ to the contemplation of truths that are su perlative, and which we consider as standing at a distance from us. The senses, immagination and passions are perpetually crowding the mind with objects of their own, and amidst the noise and tumult of these, the still voice of reason is not easily heard. But when a great calamity has overtaken us, when we stand in the pres ence of death, and learn that no human skill could avert the blow, no human love could pro cure even a postponement of the doom, the united voice of reason and inspiration loudly cry, “this is the end of all—let the living lay it to his heart.” How powerful a corrective is this, to the natural pride of man. If in the hour of prosperity he forgets the mortal, and imagines that his mountain stands strong, let him consid er the day of adversity which shall surely come; for “God hath set the one over against tho oth er.” Let him not look alone at the grandeur of his present state, and be unmindful of the des tiny which awaits him; but rather let him “set his house in order, for he shall die and not live.” “For he seeth that wis men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others.” “The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th’ inevitable hour, . The paths of glory lead—but to the grave.” With how strong an appeal do such reflections come to us to-day. But the other day, and he whom we now mourn occupied his place among the great men of our nation and of the world. His was no common mind —his no ordinary ; fame. His country honored him and the world i admired; but alas! what availed the quick per : ception, the keen sagacity, the profound analy | sis, and all the varied stores of a capacious mind ? The mighty champion in many a field of intellectual strife stood powerless here. The COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING,. MAY 2, 1850. great destroyer respected not the badges of his high distinction, but seized as another trophy of all-conquering Death. The duty of the preacher would be but par tially performed, if he withheld another lesson which this occasion eminently suggests. One of the most appropriate duties which this be reavement is calculated to impress upon the minds of the people of this State, is to place their trust less on man and more on God. Such was the honor and veneration in which our de parted Senator was held—so proud were we of his genius and exalted worth—that we were in danger of forgetting our dependence upon God, in our reliance on the wisdom and patriotism of man. “Cease from man, whose breath is in his nostrils,” is the command of God, and “put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help.” And yet though constantly admonished of the frailty of such support, how prone are we to rely upon the creature to the neglect of the Creator. When one of our fellows whom God has highly en dowed, and raised up in his providence for some great occasion, appears among us, and is the instrument of our deliverance—when his coun sels are wise and safe, and his firmness and courage eminently qualify him for our defence, and under his leadership we have been success ful, how natural is it for us to repose on him in seasons of peril, and to conclude that all is well under his vigilant supervision. If such views be only restrained within their proper limit, and an humble trust in God be cultivated—if we think not of men more highly than we ought to think; but regard them as the instrument* of a superintending power; if we transfer notour faith from its proper object, God—then it is but an act of justice and gratitude to honor those whose services have been beneficial or saved the commonwealth. But whenever we go be yond the proper bound, and place that confi dence in man which we should put iu God alone, we lay the foundation for future dis appointment ; for it is written—“ Cursed be the man that, trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his atm, and whose heart departeth from tho Lord.” In the present embarrassed and threatening position of our public affairs, there is dan ger, my brethren, lest we have been looking too much to an arm of flesh to save us, and too little to our God. While the storm has been raging, we have been sleeping quietly, because we had confidence in the skill of those to whom the. national interests were intrusted. The re moval from among us of such a man, at such a time, should awaken us all to the necessity of calling upon God, and making him our trust. Our true security lies in his protection and bless ing ; and our inward peace, amid the tumult which may range around, will be proportioned to our faith in him. It may be well for us to consider how far such may be the purpose of God in our present affliction. If the triumph ant gpnius who could devise the way of our deliverance from the evils which now im pend, our natural proneness to rely on man might only be increased. But if we feel that those in whom we trusted are taken away, shall it not lead us to supplicate more earn estly the aid of God and to give the glory of deliverance to him w’ho alone can effect it? Nor let us be forgetful of the experience of the past-? How many emergencies have arisen in the history of our country, and in the history of all nations, when the timid and trembling heart has looked around for an earthly deliverer; and mourned that those on whom it was accustom ed to rely has been taken away ? And yet, with every such exigency has God interposed and either in his providence turned aside the ill, or raised up such men as were suited to the times. Such remembrances should encourage us to day. When the devoted band of Apostles had been removed from the early Church, God rais ed up “the noble army of martyrs.” When a sepulchral gloom again enshrouded her, he gave the great Reformer. Turn then your eyes to him who kindled that light whose extinction you now deplore, and learn to trust his good ness, as well as to fear his power. It is a merciful ordination of Heaven, that ev en our heaviest afflictions may be sanctified, and the very events which we bewail as ad versities, may be converted into blessings.— Tnough this be now beyond our comprehension, let our faith joyfully receive it. “We have heard with our ears, our fathers have told us what work God did in their days, in the times of old.” Let our reliance be on him. The God of our fathers is our God, and he will still be our guide. Oh! if in this time of our national distress and darkness, it shall please him to cause the light of his countenance to be lifted up upon us, the lowering clouds shall become luminous with his presence, “And sorrow, touched by Him, grows bright, With more than rapture’s ray, As darkness show’s us worlds of light We never saw by day.” May we not already discern the first gleam of blessed light in the subduing and softening iufluence which the death of our distinguished statesman has produced among his own com peers? Who can turn his eye to that touching spectacle presented in the Senate of our coun try, when the announcement of his death was made, and not be moved? Upon the field of po litical conflict the living Senator had found his foes. They, too, w r ere men of giant minds. They had entered that erena together in early life. They had often met in warm debate, espousing opposite opinions, and defending them with all their strength. They strove together often for the mastery. But when a-mightier than they had come, and Death proclaimed himself the victor there, the survivors felt the transitori ness of human glory,they dropped the tear of fraternal sorrow, and their genius wove for the pale brow of their departed rival the brightest garland which he ever wore. And who shall say but that even there, where the war of words and passions has been waged most hotly, the animosities of party shall not be forgotten in the deep-felt grief of every heart, and the pure pat riotism of the mighty dead infuse its spirit into the souls of the living? And now, my brethren, it only remains that I conclude these remarks as I began them,’ by exhorting them to an unwavering confidence in the rectitude of the divine administration. Ma ny will be the trials of our faith, but they will be ordered in mercy. It is this heaven appointed principle alone that shall bear us up under the manifold sorrows of life. But it has always conquered, so shall it prove triumphant to the last. Through many a scence of perplexity and sorrow our path may lie; but this shall lead us out into the land of light beyond. When the fierce temptation shall assail you, or your ene mies for awhile, exult—on every such occasion let the Patriarch’s language be yours—“ Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right ?” The up rightness of your heart and the integrity of your life shall then support your minds; and the infinite and eternal merits of our Lord Jesus Christ shall be your justification and your glory: Unto w’hom, in the unity of the Father and the Holy Ghost, let us unite in ascribing all honor and power, might, majesty and blessing, for ever. Amen. Very Cool. —An apparently unsophistica ted youth went into a refectory a few days since, and asked for something to appease his hunger. The keeper gave him a very good dinner, after which the youth said to his friend. “If you ever come up our way call.” “That won’t pay. Your dinner is a quarter.” “Oh, I hain’t got any money ; but if you’ll come up to Alleghany county, I’ll give you a better dinner for nothing.” “Why,” said the keeper, “you are very cool.” “Why, yes, I’m a very cool chap, so much so that moth er always makes me stand in the pantry, in hot weather, to keep meat from spoiling.” REV. PETER CARTWRIGHT, TIIE JOCOSE PREACHER. A GENUINE PORTRAIT FROM LIFE IN ILLINOIS. Immense was the gathering at the Metho dist camp-ground near Springfield, on the se cond Sunday in September. 183*2. A pow erful magnet had attracted this great mass of people from their homes in many counties for a hundred miles around. The new presi ding elder, a late arrival from Kentucky, an orator of wide-spread and wonderful renown, it was known would thunder on that day. The glittering prestige of his fame had light ened far before him, and hence the universal eagerness to see and hear one concerning whom rumor’s trumpet tongue discoursed so loudly. Morning broke in the azure east, bl ight and beautiful as a dream of heaven ; but the ex pected prodigy had not made his advent. Eleven o’clock came—the usual hour for the detonation of the heavy guns of orthodoxy— and still there was no news of the clerical lion. A common circuit rider took his place, and sensible of the popular disappointment, increased it by mouthing a miserable failure. The vexed and restless crowd began to disperse, when an event happened to excite afresh their curiosity, and concentrate them again denser than ever. A messenger rush ed to the pulpit in hot haste, and presented a note which was immediately read out, to pre vent the people from scattering. r iTie follow ing is a literal copy of that singular epistle: “Dear Brethren—The devil has foundered my horse, which will detain me from reach ing your tabernacle till evening.’ I might have performed the journey on foot, but I could not leave poor Paul, especially as he never left poor Peter. Horses have no souls to save, and therefore it’s all the more the du ty of Christians to take care of their bodies. Watch and pray, and don’t let the devil get among you on the sly before candle-light, when 1 shall be at my post. Your brother, Peter Cartwright.” In fashionable phrase, the reading of this strange effusion “produced quite a sensation.” Some thought the man mad ; others deemed the letter a hoax. But still the effect as to one particular was unquestionable; it height ened and intensified the public curiosity ; and such, very likely, was the precise result inten ded by the writer. At length the day closed. The purole curtain of twilight fell over the earth from the darkening sky. God’s gold en fires flashed out in heaven, and men below kindled their pale candles. The encamp ment, a village of snowy tents, was illumin ated with a brilliancy that caused every leaf of the grove to shine and sparkle as if all the trees were burnished with phosphorescent flame. It was like a theatre. It was a thea tre in the open air, on the green sward, be neath the starry blue, incomparably more picturesque and gorgeous than any stage scenery ever prepared within walls of brick or marble, where the elite of imperial cities throng to feast their eyes on beauty and their ears on the music of silver sounds. Not only the altar and the rows of bench es under the broad shed, but the entire dimen sions of the grove also, were crowded to the verge of suffocation. The word had been circulated that the mighty orator had come at last, and the feverish anxiety to behold him augmented more and more. Presently a form arose in the pulpit, and commenced giving out a hymn preliminary to the main exercises, and every eye became instantly riveted on the person of the strang er. Indeed, as someone said of Burke, “a single flash of the gazer’s vision was enough to reveal the extraordinary man, ’’ although in the present case it must, for the sake of truth, be acknowledged that the first impression was ambiguous, if not enigmatical and disa greeable. His figure w r as tall, burly, mas sive, and seemed even more gigantic than the reality from its crowning foliage of luxuriant coal-black hair, wreathed into long, curling ringlets. And a head that looked large as a half-bushel, beetling brows, rough and crag gy as fragmentary granite, irradiated at the base by eyes of dark fire, small and twink ling like diamonds in a sea, (they were dia monds of the soul shining in a measureless sea of humor) —a swarthy complexion, as if embrowned by the kisses of sunbeams; rich, rosy lips, always slightly parted, as if wear ing a perpetual merry smile, and you have a life-like portrait of Peter Cartwright, the far famed jocose preacher. . Though I heard it all, from the text to the amen, 1 am forced to despair of any attempt to convey an accurate idea of either the sub stance or manner of the sermon which fol lowed. There are different sorts of sermons —the argumentative, the dogmatic, the pos tulatory, the persuasive, the punitive, the combative, “in orthodox blows and knocks,” the logical and poetic ; but this specimen be longed to none of these categories. It was ! sui generis, and of anew species. It might be termed properly the waggish. He began with a loud, beautifully modula ted tone, in a voice that rolled on the serene ; night air like successive peals of grand thun der. Methodist ministers are celebrated for sonorous voices, but his was matchless in ! sweetness as well as power. For the first; minutes his remarks, being prefatory, w r ere j common-place and uninteresting; but then ! all of a sudden his face reddened, his eye lightened, his gestures grew animated as the waftures of a fiery torch, and his whole coun tenance changed to an expression of inimita- j hie humor.; and now his wild, waggish, peeu- i liar eloquence, poured like a mountain tor- ! rent. Glancing arrows of wit, shafts of ridi- : cule, bon mots, puns, and side-splitting anec- I dotes, sparkled, flashed, and flew like hail, j till the vast auditory was convulsed with laughter. For a while the more ascetic i strove to resist the strong current of their own spontaneous emotions; the sour-faced clergy frowned and hung their heads; and all the old maidenly saints groaned as with unspeakable anguish at such desecration of the evangelical desk. These, however, soon discovered that they had undertaken an im possible achievement in thinking to with stand the faceliee of Cartwright. His every sentence was like a warm finger tickling the ribs of the hearer. His very looks incited to mirth far more than other men’s jokes, so that the effort to maintain one’s equilibrium only increased the disposition to burst iu louder explosions, as every school-boy has verified in similar cases. At length the en campment was in a roar; the sternest fea tures relaxed into smiles; the coldest eyes melted to tears of irrepressible merriment Mo Here s best comedy or Sheridan’s funniest farce was never halt so successful. This continued for thirty minutes, which was his theme. I looked on and Laughed with the rest, but finally began to fear tho result as to the speaker. How, I exclaimed mentally, will he ever be able to extricate his audience from that deep w hirlpool of humor ? If he ends thus, when the merry mood subdues and ! calm reflection supervenes, will not the revul ion of feeling be deadly to his fame ? Will sot evory hearer realize that he has been tri lled with in matters of sacred and eternal in fl rest 1 At all events, there is no prospect tea revival to-night, for were the orator a ofagieian, he could not change his subject mow and stem this torrent of headlong laugh ner! t But the shaft of my inference fllv>i le cf the mark ; for then he commenced to change —not all at once, but gradually as the wind of a thunder cloud. His features lost their comical tinge ot pleasantry; his voice first earnest, and then solemn, and soon wailed out in tones of the deepest pathos; his eye was shorn of its mild light, and yielded streams of tears as the fountain of the hill yields water. The effect was indescribable ; the rebound ot feeling beyond all revelation in words oi portraiture by imagination. He descaned on the horrors of hell till everv shuddering face was turned downwards, as if expecting to behold the solid globe riven asunder and the fathomless fiery gulf yawn trom beneath. Brave men moaned like sick infants; and fair, fashionable women, cover | ed with silken drapery, and bedight with | gems, shrieked as if a knife was at work upon | their heart-strings. Again he changed the theme, and sketch ! ed the joys of a righteous death—its faith, its hopes, its winged raptures, and what beauti ful angels attend the liberated spirit to its starry home—with such force, fire, and evi dent belief, that all eyes were raised towards heaven, as the entire congregation started to their feet, as if to hail the vision of angels at which the finger of the preacher seemed to be pointed, elevated as it was on high to the full length of his arm. He then made a call for mourners into the altar, and five hundred, many of them until that night infidels, rushed forward and pros trated themselves on their knees. The meet ing was continued for two weeks, and more than a thousand converts were added to the church. From that time the success of Pe ter Cartwright was unparalleled, and the fact is chiefly due to his inimitable wit and master ly eloquence that Methodism is now the pre vailing religion in Illinois. “In what college did he graduate ? Sure ly it must have required a mighty alma mater to develope such a son.” ou are more than half right, my good questioner. Peter Cartwright, like most preachers of his sect, received his education in the universal university—the same that produced Homer, Plato, Shakespeare, Moses, Mendelssohn, Franklin —that weaver of gar land from the lightning’s wing—Washington, and Patrick Henry. High upon the highest mountain top, deep down in the lowest val leys, far out away on the rolling billow’, there he studied and toiled together, in the most glorious of all schools—the free school of all culture! “But did he graduate ?” Aye, and nature’s own hand wrote his diploma with a pencil of living light, and stamped it with a seal of lire—the immortal fire of true genius. Cartwright became an itinerant at eigh teen, with no learning from books, save what he derived from the pages of his Bible and a collection of hymns. Year after year he continued to travel the wild circuits of the frontier, earning annually but a hundred dol lars for labors painful as those of a salve at the oar. But his vocation afforded him an excellent opportunity for meditation, and ev en reading. In his long journeys from one appointment to another, he was alone, with nothing around him but woods and waters, birds, trees, mountains, sun, moon and stars. These he might and did ponder well. Aye, he did more; he bought him books of litera ture and science, and poured over them as he rode along with an ardor and patient perse- i verance such as perhaps was never witnessed j within the stone walls of a college. Thus | he mastered mathematics, logic, physics, law j and several languages, ancient and modem. Oh! believe me—believe all human history— there is no teacher like the student's own hard-working intellect, urged on to action and guided in its efforts by the omnipotence of an unconquerable will. “But why did not this ‘Western prodigy achieve for himself a more extensive renown t Why did he not climb to the loftiest stations in the church ? If this narrative be true, he ought before now’ to have been bishop, at the least.” The statement of a few facts w ill solve the problem. Let it be remembered, then, that the Methodist Episcopal Church is a hierarchy, in which the dispensation of cler ical honors rests exclusively with the Bishops and General Conference of itinerants, where the laity and local preachers are unrepresen ted, and consequently have no voice. Hence, in that sect, popularity, eloquence, and other showy qualities, have never been found suffi cient passports to the pre-eminent distinctions of authority ani* office, but often to the re verse. The Bishop’s gown must be won by steady, austere devotion, not by brilliant ora tory or profound and varied learning. On this perilous rock Peter Cartwright’s lofty vessel was shivered into the atoms of a hope less w’reck. He made no pretensions to su perior sanctity, nor was it manifested in his conduct and demeanor, whether in the pulpit or in private life. Indeed, he was distinguish ed for one very unclerical peculiarity—com bativeness in the superlative degree. His | battles, though always apparently on the de- ‘ fensive, were as numerous as the celebrated i Bowie. The only difference lay in this, that { Bowie fought with deadly weapons, while Cartwright used but his enormous fist, which was as effective, however, in the speedy set tlement of belligerent issues as any knife or pistol ever forged out of steel. Let the read er judge from the following anecdote : At a camp meeting held at Alton in the autumn of” 1833, the worshippers were an- , noyed by a set of desperadoes trom St. Lou- : is, under the control of Mike Fink, a notori- ■ ous bully, the triumphal. t hero of countless fights, in none of which he had ever yet met an equal or even second. These coarse, drunken ruffians carried it with a high hand, outraged the men and insulted the women, so as to threaten the dissolution of all pious exercises; and such was the terror the name of their leader, Fink, inspired, that not oner individual could be found brave enough to face his prowess. At last, one day, when Cartwright ascen ded the pulpit to hold forth, the desperadoes on the. outskirts of the encampment raised a yell so deafening as to drown utterly every other sound. Cartwright's dark eyes shot lightening. He deposited his Bible, drew off his coat, and remarked aloud—“ Wait a few moments, my brethren, while I go and make the devil pray.” He then proceeded, w ith a smile on his lips to the focus of the tumult, and addressed the chief bully—‘-Mr. Fink, I have come to make you pray.” The desperado raked back the tangled fes toons of his blood-red hair, arched his huge brows with a comical expression, and repli ed—“By golly, I’d like to see you do it, old ! snorter!” | “Very well,” said Cartwright. “Will : these gentlemen, your courteous friends, j agr*>e not to show foul play ?” “In course they will. They’re rale grit r I and won’t do nothing but the clean thing, so they won’t,” rejoined Fink, indignantly.- “Are you ready ?” asked Cartwright. “Ready as a race horse with a light rider,” answered I - ink, squaring his ponderous per son for the combat. But the bully spoke too soon; for scarcelv had the words left his lips when Csrtiwiight made a prodigious bound toward his antago nist, and accompanied it with a quick shoot ing punch of his herculean fist, which fell crashing on the other’s chin, and hurled him to the earth like lead. Then even his intox icated comrades, filled with involuntary ad’ miration at the feat gave a cheer. But link was up in a moment, and rushed : upon his enemy, exclaiming—“ That warn’t j done fair, so it warn’t.” lie aimed a furious ; stroke, which Cartw right parried w ith his left | hand, and grasped his throat with the right, j crushed him down as if he had been an in ■ tant. I-ink struggled, squirmed, and w rithed jin the dust, but all to no purpose; for those i strong, muscular fingers held his windpipe as jin the jaws of an iron vice. When he be | gan to turn purple in the face and censed to | resist, Cartwright slackened his hold, and in- I quired, “Will you pray now ?” “I doesn’t know a word how,” gasped Fink. “Repeat after me,” commanded Cart wright. “W ell, if I must, I must,” answered Fink, “because you’re the devil.” The preacher then said over the Lord’s j prayer line by line, and tho conquered bally responded in the same way, when the victor permitted him to rise. At this consumma tion the rowdies thundered three boisterous cheers. Fink shook Cartwright’s hand warmly, declaring—“By golly, you’re some beans in a bar-fight. I’d rather set to with an old he in the dog-days. You can pass in this ere crowd of nose-smashers, blast your ugly pictur!” Afterwards, Fink’s party be haved with exemplary decorum, and Cart wright resumed his Bible and pulpit. A thousand other incidents, equally mar tial and ludicrous, are related as to Cart wright’s adventures, both in Kentucky and Il linois. Many of them are probably fiction*,- but those genuine alone, if collected, would be sufficient to stock at least two volumes of romantic reality. Such was the jocose preacher, and his bi ography teaches ns the mighty influence of circumstances in moulding the characters, and fixing the destinies of men. Had that splendid genius been cast on the tide of war, or thrown into the fiery vortex of a revolu tionary era, his name might have been a sig nal of doom to quaking nations; his renown might have blazed like a comet, through all time. But he was born in the wildest moun tains of Kentucky ; he was taught the spirit ual tenets of Wesley, and educated to regard the calling of a Methodist circuit’ rider as the loftiest on earth. Short Story. When Mary and I w ere married, we were young and foolish, for we had nothing to be married with; but Mary was delicate, and I thought I could take care of her best. I knew I had a strong arm and a brave heart to de pend upon. We rented a chamber and went to housekeeping. We got together a little furniture —a table, bedstead, dishes—but our money failed us before we bought our chairs. I told Mary she must turn up the tub; for I could not run in debt: No, no. It was not. long before our rich neighbor Mrs. M. found us out, and kindly enough she supplied us; half a dozen chairs added to our stock. They i were old ones, to be sure, but answered just as well for us. I shall never forget the new ! face those chairs put upon our snug quarters; they never looked just right before.— The tables are turned with Mrs M. and me now; she has turned a poor widow, but she shall never want while I have any tiling—nev er! cried the old man, with a beaming face, I don’t forget those chairs. Ah, now the secret was out. It was the interest of the old chairs which maintained the poor widow. She was living on the in terest and compound interest of a little friend ly act, done years before, and sufficed for herself and daughter. How beautiful it is to know’ God blesses the operation of his great moral law, “Love thy neighborand we should oftener see it could we look into the hidden paths of life, and find it is not self interest, nor riches, nor fame, that binds heart to heart. The simple power of a friendly act can do more than they. It is these—the frienly acts, the neigh borly kindnesses, the Christian sympathy of one towards another, which rob wealth of its power to curse, extracts the bitter from sorrw, and open wells of gladness in deso late homes. We do not always see the gol den links shining in the chain of human events; but they are there, and happy is he who feels their gentle but irresistible influ ence. — Merchants’ Ledger. The glory of a good man is the testimony of a good conscience; have that, and thou wilt have inward peace amidst-troubles. When woman loses her name she can’t get it back again. Such is precisely the case ; with a dog made into sausages —he’s gone | forever. How to Correct an Error. —“ What lit tle, uglylooking, red-haired monster is that playing among those children ?” “That, madam, that is my eldest son.” “Indeed, you don’t say so—what a beauti ful little cherub it is!” Custards without Eggs. —One quart of new milk, four tablespoonfuls of flour, two of sugar. Season with nutmeg or cinnamon, and add 3alt to your liking. The milk should be placed over a quick fire, and when at the boiling point, the flour should be added, be ing previously stirred up in cold milk. As soon as thoroughly scalded, add the sugar, spice, and salt. This is an excellent dish, and deservedly prized by every one who has tried it. NO. 18.