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VOL. L ot Bss&m urasasH in published, every Friday morning, in .Macon, Ca. on the follow. Lftjf CONDITIONS : \f pa'\A strictly in adrancc - ‘ -’0 per annum If not (to paid - - - -3 00 “ “ Legal Advertisements will be made to conform to the following pro visions of the Statute: — Slits of Land and Negroes, by Executors, Administrators and Guard ian*. are required by law to be advertised in a public gazette, sixty dav* previous to the day of sale. These sains must be held un the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court House in the county in which the property is situated. The sales of Personal Property must be advertised in like manner for ty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty davs. Notice that application will In- made to the Court of Ordinary fog leave to s* !l Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for four month*. Citations or L’ltcrs of Administration must be published thirty days (, )T Dismission from Administration, monthly, sic months — for Dis mission from Guardianship, forty <lays. Kales for foreclosure of mortgage, must be published monthly, fur four months— for establishing lost papers, fur thcfull space of three ‘months for compelling titlesfrom Executors or Administrators where bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. Professional and Business Cxims, inserted, according to the follow ing scale : For I lines or less per annum - * •-’* a(l 1,1 advance. ♦ 6 lines “ “ * * * <OO “ , 0 „ u - - SlO 00 “ “ jeae-Transient Advertisements will be charged *l, per square of 12 [uics'or less, for the first and 50 cts. for each subsequent insertion.— on these rates there will lie a deduction of 20 percent, on settlement, v hen advertisements are Continued 3 months, without alteration. \jj Letters except those containing remittances must be post paid or fret. Postmasters and others who will act as Agents for the “Citizen’ inav retain2o percent, for their trouble,on all cash subscriptions for warded. OFFICE on Mulberry Street, East of the Floyd House and near the Market. v~’ BiiofiHlnmi. The Rattle of king's Mountain, on THE HERO’S REVENGE. X TALK OK WHIG AND TORY WARFARE. Do you remember this day ? It is the Tth ot Octo ber 1780, nearly two months after the defeat ot Gen eral Gates, and after the annihilation of Sumter.— Reader of the richest history in the world —the his tory of your own Revolution —can you have forgot ten itj lias it been hurried in oblivious silence be neath accumulations of more pompous events ? Have its lurid battlements been eclipsed by the me teoric splendor, the fiery glare of more gorgeous victories ? Or has the muse of a continent yet found no son, who would stoop to sing the stormy deeds of hunters fighting without a llttg, fi and on parched corn, and receiving no pay but a golden coin of conscience, and the promise of their coun try’s good! See, yonder on King’s Mountain, a table emi nence, with a level at the summit, six hundred yards long, by sixty wide, lies the camp of lVrguscm — hollow parallelogram of scarlet uniform, black musk ets and bristling steel. The drum rolls. The red cross flies. The acclivities are defended by mon strous Titans of dark rocks. Veterans hardened in the fires of a dozen campaigns stand on the moun tain’s top. Itis “King’s Mountain” too! “Who shall think of storming its steep sides ! We shall see presently. Look, three, parties are climbing over the rocks, i sealing these old walls of nature’s handiwork, built ; some distant centuries ago, perhaps in the morning j of creation. < hie moves to assault The west end, | another to the east, while the third will charge the j centre. Is it not a brave sight ? But you cannot see them very well, for a veil of blue mist shrouds j the mountain, through which the sun peers pale, as i if sick of the carnage about to be. The approach of freedom’s warriors is covered by j the thin mist and thick trees, and even now the ! black rocks aid them. Suddenly on the three sides of the steel and iron j parallelogram, nine hundred rifles roar, and nine ! hundred shouts rise; and then a thousand Euglish j •muskets answer back with hoarse thunders of death. [ Ferguson is not —cannot be. surprised, —with fu- j riotis calmness, lie attacks tlie assailants with fixed j bayonets, and forces them to retire. * But they only i give a little, and instantly renew the combat. Eve- j rv massy rock becomes a battery —every pine tree ; burns powder. The marksmen of the back-wood j hold their bullets in their mouths for quick re-load iing, and thus the torrent of tire never ceases. The officers on both sides tight like common soldiers. — j It is more a wholesale murder than a battle by rule. > But tell me —who are those two standing fore most among the Tennesseeans on the western edge of the mountain top, disdaining shelter, refusing to yield an inch of ground, defiant of all Britain's ba yonets ? Do you not know them —the old man— how dark lhs silver hair with war's sable smoke— how dim looks the white paper on the black gun’s muzzle—heavens! how beautiful it blazes now, as ■death rings a tory’s or a tyrant’s funeral in every peal—with that bold grand-son still as ever beside him ? His eye flashes destructive joy, the matcli jess ecstacy of battle, and yet he is not satisfied He groans ; “Oh ! God ot justice, where is Mary’s murderer ? Shall l not find him—shall any other hand than mine slay him ?” Now look on the other side of the mountain you see a giant of evil aspect with fiery red hair. Ile leads a company of tory riflemen. 1 hey, too, are moun taineers', and do execution as fearful as the brother toemen of their own land, who struggled tor it and liberty. That Captain is Tom Bell—the robber be fore the war, and since the murderer of Mary. Let him now cross the black rifle, flecked with its snowy paper. Still on goes the bloody work. Columns repeat edly charge and break, form and charge again.-- Campbell? Cleveland, Sevier, Shelby, and the gal lant Lacy, rule America’s tide of war, bursting up tlie mountain's cliftcd side. Ferguson’s blue eye shines like a star, and Tom Bell s red tace burns like a comet, above the surging sea of red coats. At length there comes a turn. Ferguson shapes a huge wedgelike column of solid, gleaming, blood dripping bayonets, anil slowly pushes the Americans right, in the eastern foot of the eminence. Is all then lost ? No. See a terrible band ot the good and true from the eaue brakes of the French Broad, four hundred miles away over the Alleghan ies, have moved round the mountains from the west. They are headed by the rifle with the white paper ou its muzzle, and they discharge a cataract of flame into the British flank. Look now how the scarlet uniforms roll backwards up the activity faster than they came, leaving many a red cross behind them. See again—the freemen have learned how to’ charge, too, without bayonets. They charge in co alesced columns, with fire and hot lead, and drive the slaves down the western slope, in disorder to the d'-'cp base. Then the breeze springs up and clears ! the mountain of mist and battle smoke, and the broad sun of heaven shines on the livino- and the dead. Asa last resort the brave Ferguson forms his en tire force into columns, to cut his way out of that ■ awful circle of fire. He flings his sword wildly on high. He shouts in thunder “ Forward—charge!” The next instant he is a corpse. A rifle ball from the muzzle wreathed with snowy paper, has gone ; through his heart. The British, panic stricken, throw down their arms, cry for quarter. A number equal to the whole American army are prisoners.— j And now the old man raises a hoarse yell, that sounds above the paean-shout of nine hundred | strong throats, —‘King’s Mountain is ours forever !’ J hus terminates gloriously an engagement in ma ny respects the most important during the war. It struck the savages of the frontier with terror from ! Ohio to Florida. It laid in the dust, Britain’s grand scheme ot lory co-operation. Lord Cornwallis heard ot it, paused in his triumphant career, and j ordered a hasty retreat to \Y innsborougb, eighty I miles in his rear. Marion and Sumter heard of it, and renewed their deadly ambuscades. Die battle shock was over; the battle smoke drifted away on the wind, and the sun shone bright ly on the dead and dying, on broken arms and bleed ing bosoms; when a jury-martial sat to try a case of avenging justice. Ten atrocious Tories were sum marily arraigned, to answer the charge of fifty mur ders. I Among these pale wretches pleading for mercy, Bom Bell, the Hercules, in red hair was the most ab . jeet i>t all; and so earnest was his prayers and prom , >* es for the future, that lie was on the point of being acquitted, when an old man with streaming white locks, broke through the circle of guards and con , fronted the shivering culprit. : “Do you remember French Broad and the lGtli j of August ?” j “ Save me from him,” cried the Tory captain, J stretching forth his chained hands for help to the j astonished bystanders. “ Have you forgotten Mary Copeland asked the | old man, grinding his toothless gums till the blood j ran out on the foam on his lips. “ I did not kill her—oh ! you cannot say I killed her! exclaimed the coward falling on his knees, and seeking to embrace the feet of his enemy. “No—but you forced her to kill herself, as the sole means of salvation from foul dishonor.” “ Oh, I did not intend to harm her,” persisted the false Tory, writhing in the dust like the meanest of reptiles. “ riien rise and swear it,” answered the other with a grim smile. The wretch sprung up, and pledged oaths deep enough to wake the dead. “Doyou see this dagger ?” inquired the aged he ro, pointing at a silver hilt glittering in his belt. “ Mercy, mercy !” shouted the murderer. J lie eyes ot the ohl mail shot sparks of living fire as he saul in a hoarse hissing w hisper, “This dagger on the lGtli of August was in the j heart of an angel. But now it is in yours, devil, he ; added, striking home the sharp steel with a motion i prompt and powerful like lightning, There was a moan, and then a gurgle, and then a gush of warm blood, and the victim lay a corpse at the avenger’s feet. Five minutes afterwards, nine others—equal trai tors and homicides—hung dangling from the swing ing limbs of oak and pine trees, there on the sum mit of Krug’s Mountain, which no king should a gain call his own, any more forever. FROM THE HORNET’S NEST. The Abolition Agent—lib true Color. Mr. Editor: —l was travelling in Ohio once, and heard in the neighborhood where it occurred, the fol lowing as authentic. • One of the real rank abolitionists from Boston, was travelling through the State obtaining subscrip tions for an abolition sheet published in that city. — To introduce the nature and importance of his em bassy, so as to lead to the introduction of subscri ber's names upon a little red covered blank book lie carried in a side pocket, he would get his company into conversation about the merits of abolitionism, the greatness of Lloyd Garrison and the übiquitous grandeur of himself, prime agent of the African “ Liberator.”* We happened one night at the house of a meth odistic, quakerish old gentleman, of fine sense, who had lately moved from Virginia over into that state. While at supper, the old gentleman asked him how he'd like to have his sister to marry a colored gen ! tleman. . “ Oh,” said lie “ if I had a sister I would have no objection at all.” “ Well,” says our host, “if you had children how w ould you like them to attend the same school, eat at the same table, and sleep in the same bed ?” “ Why,” says the subtle agent, “ I have no chil dren ; if I had, I would be willing to do as you say.” “ But how would you like to lie alongside of a negro boy, yourself ?” asked “mine host.” “ Oh, 1 suppose no one w ould propose that, as it is against custom, but 1 certainly am consistent enough to say I have no objection.” After some other conversation the abolition agent retired to a neat and comfortable bed room. The old gentleman called to a hired free boy of color, named Ben. Ben came, •’Ben,” says he “go wash yourself well, put on some clean clothes, and come here,” Ben did as desired. Now Ben,” says the old gentleman, “take these saddle bags, take this umbrella under your arm, this horsewhip in your hand, aud go up to the room on, the left, practice the part of a traveller just arrived” aud try and get the gentleman, whom you will find a “friend to your race,” to let you sleep with him.’ Ben was a smart boy, aud, taking up the articles proceeded up stairs. Opening the door, he placed the candle which lie also bore, on a table and turn ed with his face towards a dressing table, his back towards the gentleman in the bed, who, aroused, drew his head from the cover and commenced a col loquy. “ Who are you!’’ sftid he. “ A traveller,” replied Ben, placing the whip on his table. “ Where are you going ?” “To Cincinnati,” says Ben,’ putting the saddle bags under the table. “ What business are you on?” asked tlie agent. “ I am out agent for a paper ’bout to be started | in New York,’ in vindication of the rights of the blacks,” remarked Ben slowly untying his craxat. “Noble fellow,” says the agent, “I am out on similar business myself, and shall be glad of vour company. J -*ull oft, old fellow, jump in, Horns a fine bed, and plenty of rooip.’ “Jnhcpenbcnt iu all tilings —Neutral in Nothing.” MACON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, AUG. 23, 1850. IBe agent raised himself up to do so, and for the first time perceived his companion was a darkie. He exclaimed in an astonished voice. “ A nigger! by heavens.” V ell, wbat ot that,” says Beu, “ you je a friend to tlie niggers, and told the landlord you’d sleep with them, so he sent me up, as the night is cold, and two in a bed is more comfortable.” “ Fh—ah, but you see—well, but, eh, —yes, but I didn t think he’d do any thing of the kind,” stam mered out the agent. “You didn’t eh ? Well, I’ll have you turned oft’ the agency” slily remarked Ben, “and I will get in bed. \ou should practice well what you preach.” Suiting the action to the word, Ben jumped in, and the agent as quickly jumped out, and hustled on his clothes, muttering to himself in an under tone— “ 1 *— 11 nigger—man’s a fool to send him up— go where folks are decenter—these folks liave’nt got any respect for a gentleman,” <fcc. He went down stairs, and the old gentleman be ing so well pleased, let him depart without charging him a bill. Yours, Ac. B. R. “The name of a paper printed in Boston. (’onto Verses. This is one of the most recent of the fashionable fireside amusements of English society, and is full of interest to those who read much and have good memories. The follow ing is a description of the game as described by Chambers, in a late number of liis Journal. “A cento primarily signifies a cloak made of patches. In poetry, it denotes a work wholly compounded of verses or passages taken promiscuously from other authors, only dispo sed in anew form or order, so as to compose anew work and anew meaning. Ausonius has laid down the rule to be ob served in composing centoos. The pieces may betaken eith er from the same poet or from several, and the verses may be taken entire, or divided into two —one half to be connect ed with another half elsewhere, but two verses are never to betaken together. Agreeably to these rules, lie has made a pleasant nuptial cento from Virgil. The Empress Eudosia wrote the life of Jesus Christ in centos taken from Homer, and Proba Falconia from Virgil.” After speaking of such very elaborate performances we are almost ashamed, says Chambers, to offer our readers a few cento verses, the product of our own family circle. But as they may give them a moment’s amusement, and will serve as an example of the kind of thing, we will set them down here. ‘On Linden when the sun was low,’ ‘A frog we would a wooing go,’ ‘lie sighed a sigh and breathed a prayer:’ ‘None but the brave deserve the fair.’ ‘A gentle knight was pricking o’er the plain,’ ‘Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow;’ ‘Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain,’ ‘Or who would suffer being here below !’ •The youngest of the sister arts’ ‘Was born on the open sea.’ ‘The rest were slain in Chevy Chase’ ‘Under the greenwood tree.’ j ‘At mom the black oock trims his jetty wings,’ ’And says—remembrance saddening o’er each brow —’ ‘Awake my St. John! —leave all meaner things!’ ’Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow 1’ ‘lt was a friar of the orders gray,’ ‘Still harping on my daughter,’ ‘Sister spirit, come away’ ‘Across the stormy water.’ ‘On the light fantastic toe,’ ‘Othello’s occupation’s gone,’ “Maid of Athens, ere I go,’ ‘Were the last words of Marmion.’ ‘There was a sound of revelry by nigbt,’ ‘ln Thebes streets three thousand years ago,’ ‘And comely virgins came with garlands bright’ ‘To censure Fate, and pious Hope forego.’ ‘Oil! the young Locliinvar has come out of the west,’ ‘An under bred, fine spoken fellow was he;’ ‘A back drooping in, and expression of chest,’ ‘Ear inoi'c than once I could foresee.’ Nov, I daresay, it seems a remarkably easy thing to the reader to make a cento verse; we cun assure him that it is of ten a very difficult thing to make legitimate - one; hut then it must be confessed that it is extremely interesting and amusing to chase a flitting line throughout all Hio poets of one’s ac quaintance, and catch it at last. Any person who is anxious to try the difficulties of cento verse-making may do so, and greatly oblige us by finding a fourth line to the following. It has bathed our skill and memory many times. ‘When Music,heavenly maid! was young.’ ‘And little to be trustel,’ ‘Then first the creature found a tongue.’ A “ Dictionary Word.” “John,” said a master tanner in South Durham, the other dav, to one of his men, “ bring me some fuel.” John walked oft’, revolving the word in his mind, and returned with a pitchfork ! “ I don’t want this,’’ said the wondering tanner, “ I want fuel, John.” “ Beg your pardon,” replied the man, “ I thought you wanted something to turn over the skins.” And off he went again, not a whit wiser, but asham ed to confess his ignorance. Much meditating (as Lord Brougham would say,) he next pitched upon the besom, shouldering which, he returned to the counting house. His master was in a passion. “ What a stupid ass you are, John,” he exclaim ed, “ I want some sticks and shavings to light the tire.” “ O-h-h-h !” rejoined the rustic, “ that’s what you want is it ? Why couldn’t you say so, at first, master, instead of using a London dictionary word?” And, wishful to show that he was not alone in his ignorance, he called a comrade to the tanner’s pres ence, and asked him if lie knew what fuel was ? “ Aye,’’ answered Joe, “ ducks and geese and sich like!” Making Augur Rules with a Gimblet. “ My hoy what are you doiug with that giroblet?” said I to a flaxen haired urchin, who was laboring with all his might at a piece of board before him. “ Trying to make an auger-hole,” was the reply, without raising his eyes. Precisely the business of at least two thirds of the world —making auger holes with a gimblet. Here is young A., who has just escaped from the clerk’s desk, behind the counter. He sports a mous tache, his imperial, carries a rattan, drinks cham pagne, talks big about the profits of banking, or shaving notes. He thinks he is really a great raau ; but every body round him sees that he is on ly “ making auger holes with a gimblet.” Miss C. is a nice, pretty girl, and might be very useful, too, for she has intelligence—hut she must he the ton —goes to plays, lounges on sofas, keeps her bed till near noon, imagines she is a belle, dis dains labor, forgets, or tries to, that her father was a mechanic—and all for what! Why she is trying to work herself into the belief, that an auger hole can be bored with a cnmblet. From Dickens’ Household Words. The Golden Fagots. a child’s tale. Aii old woman went into a wood to gather fagots. As she was breaking, with much difficulty, one very long branch across her knee, a splinter went in to her hand. It made a wound from which the blood flowed ; but she bound her hand with a rag ged handkerchief, and went home toiler hut. Now, this woman was very cross because she had hurt herself; and therefore when she had arrived at her hut, and saw her grand-daughter, Ellie, spin ning, she was very glad there was somebody to pun ish. She told little Lillie she was a minx, and beat her with a fagot, —but the old woman for a long time depended for support upon her grand-daughter and the daily bread had never yet been wanting from her table. “ The cloth feels very stiff,” said the old woman. And that was a tiling not to he wondered at, for when the bandage was unrolled, one half of it was found to be made of a thick golden tissue. And there was a lump of gold in the old woman’s hand, where otherwise a blood clot might have been. At all this Fillie was not much surprised, because she knew little of gold; and her grandmother was very yellow outside, it appeared to her not unlikely that she was yellow the whole way through. But the sun now shone into the little room, and Fillie started with delight. “ Look at the beautiful bright beetles among tlie fagots ! ” She had often watched the golden beetles scampering too and fro near a hot stone on the rock. “Ah, this ivery odd!” seeing that the bright specks did not move. “ These poor insec Is must all be asleep ! ” But the old woman, who had fallen down upon her knees before the wood, bade Ffllie go into the town and sell the caps that she had finished; not forgetting to fetch home another load of flax. Grannie, when left to herself, made a great num ber of curious grimaces. Then she scratched an other wound in her hand, and caused the blood to drop among the fagots. Then she hobbled and screamed endeavoring, no doubt, all tlie time to dance aud sing. It was quite certain that her blood had the power of converting into gold, whatever lifeless thing it dropped upon. F’or many months after this time Ellie continued to support her grandmother by daily toil. The old woman left off fires, although it was cold winter weather, and the snow lay thick on the cottage roof, Ellie must jump to warm herself, and her grand mother dragged all the fagots into her own bed room. Ellie was forbidden ever again to make Grannie’s bed, or to go into the old woman’s room on any account whatever. Grannie’s head was al ways in a bandage ; but it never required dressing. Grannie could no longer hurt Ellie when she used the stick, for her strength was considerably lessened. One day this old woman did not come out to breakfast, and made no answer when called to din ner ; and Ellie when she listened through a crevice, could not hear her snore. She always snored when she was asleep, so Ffllie made no doubt she must be obstinate. When night came Ellie was frightened, and dared not sleep until she peeped in. There was a stack of golden fagots; and her grandmother was ou the floor quite white and dead. When she a larmed her neighbors, they all came together, and held up their hands and said, “what a clever miser this old woman must have been! ” But when they looked at Ellie, as she sat weeping on the pile of gold, they quarrelled among each other over the question, “who should be her friend.” A good spirit came in the night, and that was her friend; for in the morning all her fagots were of wood 11- gain. Nobody then quarrelled for her love: but she found love and was happy; because nobody thought it worth while to deceive her. Original papers. ; THE VALLEY OF DIAMONDS, BV T. 11. CHIVERB, >t D. XXXVII. 1. Now it came to pass on the tlircc-and-twentieth-day of j the first month of the year, that, as I was walking out upon j the banks of tlie Quonnetticut, which, being interpreted, sig- i nifieth the Crystal Waters; there appeared unto me a tnigh- j ty Angel, standing on a great wide sea of sapphire, with four j faces, one looking to the North, one to the South, one to the , F!ast, and one to the West—of such exceeding brightness, that the sun fled away from his presence, and hid his face in heaven ! 2. And while I stood there, all alone, sorely afraid, by rea son of the exceeding brightness of his countenance, I heard a ‘still small voice’ saying unto me; Fear not: lam tlie spirit of the heavens and of the earth! 3. And when he had spoken, the earth trembled, as when an earthquake, on his Da-dal couch, turns over from the sleep of centuries, and tumbles mountains in the sea! 4. And while I gazed upon the sea, it was of the radiance of burning sapphire; and there was no storm thereon, for the breath of God rested upon it, and it was settled to a calm. 5. And while I stood gazing on that Angel, bright as an incarnate sun, adorned with robes of liquid light, veiling the form it could not hide with gentle foldings, like the flowing billows of some noontide-ebbing sea; I saw him look upon me with tlie countenance of the moon; and while he looked upon me thus, I heard hi okaying untome, in accents sweeter than the language of a ynild; Look toward the North! 6. And 1 looked toward the North. 7. And the North appeared dark unto me, by reason of the exceeding brightness of his face. 8. Aud while I gazed, I saw an Angel coming down from Heaven veiled in a radiant cloud; which was of the perfume of the breath of his mouth, lit by the fulgence of his own bright form—holding in his hand a scroll, whereon was writ ten UNIVERSAL LOVE. 9. And when I had read the writing thereon, my eyes be came very dim, by reason of the excessive flow of tears which had obscured them in my vision of that celestial being; and, lo! when I looked again, iho Angel was gone! 10. And when I turned again to look upon the face of the Angel, who had four faces, he said untome; Knowest thou the meaning of the writing on the scroll of the Angel.’ 11. And I said unto him, Lord! I know not! 12. And he said unto me again; By reason of the great darkness of men's minds, I have commissioned the Angel which you have seen, to proclaim unto tlie People of the North, UNIVERSAL LOVE. 13. Look ton ards the South ! 14. And I looked towards the South. 15. And while I gazed iu wonder full of love, the face turned toward the South became of an exceeding brightness, like that face towards the North, so that the South, like the North, appeared dark! 16. And, lo! an Angel, like unto the first, descended out of Heaven, attended by four other Angels, not so bright, playing upon golden harps with silver strings—having in his right hargl a scroll, on which wa3 written these words in UNIVERSAL PEACE. 17. And after I had read tlie writing on the scroll, the tears’ came unto mine eyes again, as before, from the exceed ing rapture of my heart: and when I had wiped them away, the Angels were gone. 18. And when I turned a second time, to behold the face of the Angel with four faces, who stood upon the sea of sap phire; lie said unto me again; Knowest thou the meaning of the writing oil the scroll of the Angel ? 19. And I said, Lord ! I know not! 20. And then he said unto me again, By reason of the great darkness of men’s minds, I have commissioned the Angel, which you have seen, to proclaim unto the People of the South, UNIVERSAL PEACE. 21. towards the East! 22. And I looked toward the East. 23. And while I was gazing towards the East, the face to wards the East became of an exceeding brightness, like that face toward the South, so that the East, like the South, be came dark! 24. When, lo! an Angel like unto the second, descended out of Heaven attended by thousands and thousands of An gels infinite, clad in white garments, as white as snow, ac companying their golden harps with their voices—holding in liis right hand a scroll, whereon was written in letters of fla ming fire, these words, UNIVERSAL TRUTH. 25. And while I stood gazing, as before, listening to the sweetest music that ever mortal heard, mine eyes overflowed again with new tears, and when I had wiped them away, the Angela were gone! 26. And when I turned again to look upon the Angel with thu/our faces, he said unto me, Knowest thou the meaning of the writing on the scroll of the Angel ? 27. And 1 said, Lord! I know not! 28. And lie then said unto me again: By reason of the great darkness of men’s minds, for they will not see the light, I have commissioned my Angel to proclaim unto the People of the East, UNIVERSAL TRUTH. 29. Look toward the West. 30. And I looked toward the West. 31. And when I had turned toward the West, my back was toward the Angel; but my form made no shadow, for the fight of his countenance was the light of his spirit, which penetrated all things. 32. And, lo ! I beheld another Angel, like unto the third, attended by Seraphim and Cherubim, and Archangels, all | playing upon their harps, and singing anew song of Ilcnan- j nah to the Lamb—holding in his right hand a scroll, which ; lie unfolded to tlie whole world, so that it rested upon the j Sapphire Sea—on which was written in letters of burning sapphire,these words, UNIVERSAL SALVATION! 33. And while I gazed upon him with mute astonishment, j the tears overflowed my eyes, as before; and, when I had wi- j ped them away, the Angels were gone ! Ami when I tUlTlcdj US to look upuit tlo fnpH of the Angel with four fact's, who stood upon that sapphire silent 1 sea, I beheld the Day ! XXXVIII. When Keats was dying, some olie asked him, “How are ■ you now ?” lie replied: “Better, my friend ! 1 feel the Daises growing over me /” X XXXIX. The four following Oarmc Truths are by Walter Savage Landor : “ While I remember what 1 have been, / never can be less .” “All titulars else must be produced by others; a knight by a knight, a peer by a king; while a gentleman is self existent.” “There is a gloom in deep love as in deep water; there is : a silence in it which suspeuds the foot; and the folded arms and ‘ the dejected head are the images it reflects. No voice shakes its surface; the Muses themselves approach it with a tardy i and a timid step, and with alow and tremulous and inebui- , cholv song.”’ XL. To show the Reader a curious idea of the progressive na- ! ture of tlie human Soul in another State of existence, I will . quote the following ingenious hypothesis from Grater's “Scat- j tered Leaves ,” lately published at Ulm: “The human mind is destined to advance progressively j nearer and nearer to perfection in our solar system. It pas- ! ses from the smallest plannet to the largest, from that nearest J the suu to the most remote, ou which, at length, the coldest j reason is attained, and pure from all the influence of the sen- j scs. Its planetary life on Mercury and Venus, though it re- ’ members nothing, or, of the most, has but a kind of obscure ! notion of it, was already over, when it was produced and i born on earth as a man with anew body. When lie dies ; here, the next station, after liis death, is Mars, the broken planets Juno, Vesta, Pallas, and Ceres; after these, Jupiter, j then Saturn, and then the Georgium Sidus. Travelling with [ the rapidity of a ray of light, the soul, on its separation from i this body, reJehesghe next planet, Mars, in four minutes and ! fifteen seconds./llere it begins anew life, which (calculated ; analogically gitfcording to tbc maximum on earth) will extend ■ to 200 years. After this it again separates, arrives in ten j minutes live seconds at Pallas, and remains in that and the; three other broken planets 500 years.—Again departs, ar- ! rives in twenty minutes forty-six seconds at Jupiter; lives i there 1200 years; reaches Saturn in fifty-six minutes thirty nine seconds, where it lives no less than 3000 years, and com- . pletes its planetary existence in our system, altar a passage of ; one hour, eighteen minutes, thirty-five seconds, in the Geor- j gium Sidus, with a fife of 5000 years.” XLI. “There is a beautiful fiction which represents a bird as singing but one time in its life; when overpowered by the ra vishing sweet ness of its own notes, it dies warbling strains of the most raptu- aud touching sweetness.” XLII. “In the Island of Goa, near Bombay, there is a singular j vegetable, the Sorrowful Trek, because it only flourishes j in the night. At sunset no flowers are to be seen, and yet, j half an hour after, it is quite full of them. They yield a sweet smell; but the sun no sooner begins to shine upon them, than some of them fall oft', and others close up, and thus it continues flowering in the night during the whole year.”— Payne's Universal Geography. XLIII. The Arcadians believed that the Oak was the first created j of all trees. The Oak was dedicated to Jupiter; the Pine to ‘ Pan; the Laurel to Apollo; and the Myrtle to Venus. XUV. The following beautiful passage is by Jones : “The immortal act was consummated—the glorious parch ment received the fifty-six undying names —names placed there with the same devotion, as that of the Daciiofold, who, in the carnage of the field, when victory was doubtful, plunged aftiid the onward foe, and with their lives placed the laurels upon the eagles of their country. O! glorious band of Philosophers! A sin the Creation of the Universe, God said, “Let there be light!” and the new sun beaming upon an infant world—-So, thy sublime act, separating luminous Liberty from the chaos of Tyranny, has given to man that brilliant expanse of Freedom, which, heaven directed, is des tined to exalt the bumag race ! O ! noble baud of Patriot! ! j Tlmugb the envious hand of death has placed tbcc w ilhin the sepulchre, yet thy gloriotts spirits dwell within the resins of bliss, and with the sublime Longinus, and the Elder Brutus, now hover o'er an enfranchised nation, guarding the precepts of Philosophy and the exercise of manly Freedom XLV. The following verses, belonging to an Elegy entitled Lu dorf, I now gather into their proper places and preserve far further use in this Casket: Like the new-born Morning GLOat, Were thine eye*, dear isadore ! Turned to Heaven with prayerful story—* Living out the song so sorry That I sing of Days Os Yore 1 Always pining for the glory Kept in Heaven, dear Isadork ! For thy saintly soul wds hasting, Clierub-pinioj.ed, Isadore ! For the Augel-gladdemng tasting Os the Fountains Everlasting Flowing out of God's great store! From those Fountains Everlasting Drinking now, dear Isadore ! Sec! the Moon, like one divining, Slowly rising, Isadore ! Softly, sadly, sweetly smiling, Like an unbought beauty pining For the Harem ever more ! Softly, sadly, sweetly smiling, Like thy soul, dear Isadore ! Nun of Heaven, at her devotion, In her boat, dear Isadore ! Clad in light, with gentle motion, Sailing on God’s azure ocean— Paying penance ever more : Looking mild, in her devotion, i-ike thy soul, dear Isadore ! Then before niv raptured vision Come sweet Hope, dear Isadore 1 From the flowery Fields E! Asian, Crying out to me, “Politian Rise ! rejoice forever more ! Angel* wait for thee , Politian! Up to Heaven to Isadore /” From her lucid limbs, so tender, Like thine own, dear Isadore ! Star-like light was rayed to render Them divine with heavenly splendor, Angel-like on Earth’s dark shore; Like the Moon in her own splendor, Were her limbs, dear Isadore ! Like some saintly Swan upspringing Into Heaven, dear Isadore ! Upward soaring, ever singing, She to Heaven her way went winging On the saintly wings she wore; Upward soaring, ever singing, Into Heaven to Isadore ! Then I heard, as the went soaring Up to Heaven, dear Isadore ! Hell's dark thuuder-river roaring Over Death’s dark Mountain, pouring Into space forever more! This I heard, as she went soaring Up to Heaven to Isadore Life through death we are receiving— Death is life, dear Isadore Life is death unto the living— -1 lappy life that God is giving To the Saints forever more! Such as thou art now receiving From his hands, dear Isadore ! Cease thy Song, Oh! Swan or Sorrow! Sing no more for Isadore ! Anthem sweetest Life could borrow !• rom dead Joys pierced by the Arrow Os cold Death in Days of Yore! Come away, Oh ! Swan of Sorrow ! Into Heaven to Isadore ! XLVI. I send you these Poems—the tender little children of ay love — that you may be a Foster-father to them, and cloth* them in suitable raiment. But are the garment* of the An gels ‘‘ tattered and torn ?” Do you waut to wear a thread bare coat in the 1 lelusian of God ? I send you the tender little Lambs of my love not that you may shear off their milk white fleeces as they eoiue up from the washing; but to fold them gently in your affectionate bosom— for as you treat them so will you Ik- treated *y my Father who is in Heaven. XLVII. ‘‘This diamond was found near Adrianople, amongst some ruins, by a Shepherd, who made use of it above a year to strike tire from to light his pipe; till a Jew having seen him one day as putting it to this use, asked to look upon it, and having seme suspicion of its value, like the Jesuit of Rome about the Piazza Xavona. cheapened and bought it for forty Aspers, and gave it to a lapidary to polish; the diamond cutter perceiving what it was, informed Sultan Mebamct the fourteenth's Jeweller, who was then at Adrianople, and the Jeweler spoke of it to the Vizier, who immediately gave ao tiee of it to his Highness, who ordered it to be seized; and having the story of it. gave forty purses to the Shepherd, and a few ducates to the Jew; it was valued at more than two hun dred purges.’*—.l. De La Mot ray's Travel a. For the Georgia Citizen, Griffin, Ga. Aog. 17,1&50. Dear Citizen : You have probably heard that to-day there was to com* off e public discussion on the great political questions of the day, in relation to the best mode of settling them, consistent ly with the honor and dignity of the South, in the event that Congress fails to settle them that way. Also, whether ot not, the Governor of the State ought to order an election for members of a convention to meet in Milled gevillc, to take in to consideration the measure and mode of redrew, Ac. Ac- As I understand there was a committee of three on each side, to arrange tW order of debate, wihch was left rather latitudinous to the speakers on the above ground. But it appeared about the time of organization erf the meetings which was very late, that the order of rules of debate hai not been signed by the tWo committees, and that they had been printed in one paper and not in both. And just as th* rules were called for, and read, there came a certain Major i puffing and blowing, through the hot sun, all in a perfect lather of sweat, quite out of breath and not in very good hu mor, having rather outwalked himself, reached the stage; aud quite pugnaciously bawled out “ I object—l object to th* the reading them rules, never signed ’em, sir,they areas imposition, never agreed to the publication, — won’t abide by ’em sir!” Whereupon, after some sharp shooting aud maim uvreing on both sides, it was seen that the admirers ©f Sir Robt. Toombs and the once despised little Elic , would not abide the rules fixed by the committee of debate, and that the meeting must be broken up in aperfect#ow. Whereup on some friend of the Union, moved to dispose of the objec tionable part of the rules laid down by the Committee, fear ing all parties at sea, without a compass or shart. Whereup on, a certain other friend of the Union, moved the adoption cf a certain set of resolutions, which he merely read to the meeting. Then that, a friend of the UttU Elec and the taol Sir Robert, read, and moved the adoption c 4 auoth- NO. 22.