Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

- - m ■, ■■ m ■ . «n-ly<dii|| cJjCTtiick & dentind —— ■ _ —IIIMIMMII J. W. Sc w. S. JONES. AUGUSTA, G A., TUBS DAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 2, 1845. VOL. IX—NO. 104. MONDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER I. 1 Mississippi.— We learn from the “Souih ron,: of the 20 h lost., ihat Gen. Patrick Henry, who was nominated by the Whigs as their can didate lor Governor, declines in the most posi tive manner to accept the nomination. Hon. J. M. Berrien. —The following well directed and well pointed satire at the small fry in Georgia who are daily seeking to defame our distinguished Senator, is from the Macon Mes senger: Berrien must die, if truth can be taught by tables, lor we learn from a fable that when the Lion was attacked by all the beasts of the field, he continued to resist until the Asses joined in the assault —that indignity was too degrading to be borne. The noble creature made no further resistance—he could not contend in reason with A sses. Moral — A cap for any scribbler whom it fits. Cotton, Crops, &c.—The Montgomery ( \ la.) Journal of the 271 h nit. says : We have taken some pains, during the last week, to gather correct information in relation to the coming crop; and from all we can learn, the cotton crops of this part of the State, probably of the whole Slate, will fall short, at least one-fifth, and per haps one-fourth of an average one. The corn crop is likely to be even worse than that. We it avc had some fine showers within the last week, but they came too laic to be of much service to the Planters, in Mississippi, Louisiana, and Red River particularly, the pros pects arc represented as good. But except these, we know ot no part of the country where the crop will be an average one. Colton is beginning to come in very freely. About fifty bales were received at the Ware house of Messrs. John H. Murphy & Co. on Monday. What was the amount received at the other three Warehouses we have not learned. But it is evident the crop is coming in earlier than usual. Military Movements.— The N. O. Beu of Monday the 25th ult., says; Yesterday morn ing, five companies of Colonel’ Dakin’s new Regiment ot Volunteers lor Texas were review ed in Lafayette Square by General Gaines, ac companied by his Staff. The Lone Star Guard, which organized in the Third Municipality on Saturday evening, mustered at the same lime, together with several companies ot the Irish Brigade, under the command of Lieutenant Carrigan. After the review, General Gaines briefly' addressed the gallant fellows, and com pli nented them highly on their efficiency in their new duties. Colonel Dakin responded in a few words, after which the whole body, comprising •257 men, all told, marched down St, Charles street to Poydras, thence through to Camp, down to Canal, passing down to St. Charles, and up again to 1 afayettc Square, where the companies separated. The majority of the men, though unaided by the outward display ot military uniform, yet appeared made of such “stuff’” as will prove them to be no easy foe to co. quer. Later from Aransas Bay. —TheN. O. Tro pic ot the 25th ult., says: The ship Suviah, Captain Gibbons, arrived below yesterday from Aransas Bay. Captain G. reports that he left lh<* anchorage off the Bay on the 16ffi instant, and that just before he left, the steamboat Mon mouth, came off and reported that war had been dec'ared by Mexico, but he supposes it was on ly rumor—(doubtless founded on the news re ceived here from Mexico— Ed Tropic .) Gen eral Taylor bad gone to San Patricio. Captain G confirms the report of the loss of the schooner Swallow. He reports that on the 20;h ultimo, 100 miles W. of the g. w. Pass, saw the schr Mary Wilkes, Capt. Decker, from this port with Government horses bound to Aransas. On tho 18th instant, saw schr. Ed. S. Larndin, from this port for Aransas, with Go vernment stores. The steam schooner Augusta, Capt. Gillett, we understand, has been chartered by the Go vernment agent here, by the month, but on what terms we cannot learn. She is to take horses to Aransas Bay in a few days, lor the use of the dragoons and Flying Artillery. We understand the steamboat Neva, which arrived here on Saturday, was purchased at ( 'dm, by an agent of government, tor 87,500. Hie Neva is nearly new, of very light draught, and is intended to go to Aransas Bay, where she will be used as a ligh'er. O’Blennis.— We learn from the Plaquemine Planters’Gazette ot Saturday, that this man, who was accused ot the murder of Frank Combs, at Point Couoee, and who it will be re collected was fried some months ago, when the jury could not agree on their verdict, has been admitted to bail by Judge Deblieux in tlie sum °I $15,000, Revival. —The religions excitement in Mont gomery. Ala., says the Journal, seems to con -IGue without abatement. Daily and nightly meetings have been kept up, and well attended ’ n l * le Methodist Episcopal Church, lor nearly Slx weeks; about one hundred and twenty per °n J iave professed a change of heart and life, ° mc ninety of whom have connected them ■ ves with the Church. Instead of flagging, e "oik seems to gather new interest as it pro gresses. i-r I'he St. Louis Era says that Marble has j 6 hoovered in large quantities near Rock Illinois. It is jet black, lakes a fine po ancp anC * presents a beautiful brilliant appear- CP : The resources of the great West are J °Sinning to be developed. The Richmond Whig states that the recent moist and warm weather has had a most bene ficial effect on vegetation of ail kinds. It says the Tobacco is, in very many cases, the largest ever known or seen, and by its unusual size will bring up the crop to an approach to average far beyond anticipation. There will be plenty of Corn; nor plenty in every neighborhood, but magnificent plenty in the collective State. Orders were received at the Brooklyn Navy Yard on Monday, to prepare the store ship Lexington for sea. She will take a cargo of provisions on board, and proceed to the Gulf of Mexico without delay. Statistics of Calomel. —One house in Phi ladelphia, says the U. S. Gazette, has prepared and sold within the last three years, 17,000 pounds of Calomel. The consumer pays the apothe cary for the medicine, at prices varying from SSO to SSOO per pound. Patting the above at onlySGO, it would appear that the price paid for if exceeded a million of dollars It is supposed that the quantity manufactuerd by other houses is at least six times as much. Ifso, the cost of calomel in three years, has been $6,000,000, or an average of two million per annum. A letter from Lake Superior says:—Native copper continues to be found—the best speci men of which is that recently discovered near the lake shore by Maj. Campbell, Sub. Agent, This specimen weighs about sixteen hundred, is purer than thecopperol commerce, and is alto gether the most beautiful specimen ever seen. Health of Vicksburg. —We are happy to inform our friends in the country and abroad, says the Whig of the 19th inst., that the health of Vicksburg remains, up to this lime, remark ably good, only two deaths last week, both in fants. No patients in the city hospital—nothing for the Doctors to do ; weather very warm anti diy- Correspondence of the Phila. North American. New York, Aug. 27—P. M. The weather has moderated a little, but re mains very oppressive. The mercury still ranges at9o at noon, without a breath of air stirring. Another cargo sale of teas was made this morning at which prices were fullv sustained, the market closing firmly, and all the Jots sold except a few low grades. A forgery was detected yesterday of the name of Messrs Bawdon & Grocsheck, brokers of this city, who do a large business with your city, from whence a draff was obtained to order, which was settled by a check bearer. From this signature the forgeries were made,by which the Union Bank has iost $3,000, the whole amount of the forgery, although rumor has magnified the sum two hundred per cent. Money Matters.—ln New York on Wed nesday loans were making on good stock securities at 5 per cent. Bicknell’s Reporter says: “ Money is still abundant in Philadelphia. The war fever which prevailed when our last paper was put to press, was by no means so high last week, and, as a consequence, capitalists were not so timid.” At Boston, the Banks are getting as much business paper as they want, at 6 per cent, and as thej r prefer this class of discounts to pledged stocks, the latter are negotiated in the streets, or forced on to the market for sale, by weak par ties, for the most they will bring. The conse quence has been, a regular break down in the stock market and much individual suffering in a pecuniary point cl view, for tne benefit of the few, with stronger names and longer purses. The Courier savs: We are led to believe that the present ad verse condition of financial affairs will be but temporary. The true wealth of the country consists in its harvests, which are abundant and near at hand. Commerce, manufactures and the fi heries are daily reaping their reward, and the general prosperity of the nation is sur h that the evils consequent upon temporary and local fluctuations sink into comparative insig nificance. The fall trade has commenced in good ear nest, The drygoods dealers, particularly, say they were never before doing so well at this sea son of the year. Our streets are lull of loaded teams; and there appears to be great activity in ail branches ol business. Anti-Rent Disturbances in Scoharie.— A correspondent of the Albany Argus, writing from Blenheim states that great excitement ex ists there in consequence of the conduct of the Ami-Renters. He says one constable has been laken Irom bis bed at midnight, dragged some four or five miles from home, and tarred, lor having served civil process; another intercept ed, and his papers taken from him ; the sheriff and his deputy taken and insulted, and open threats made to shoot the sheriffand his depu ties, insomuch that process could no longer be served by any officer, whether (or rent or othe r wisp, and open resistance to anv force that J could be sent against them, also threatened— 1 until the consummation of like threats in the | countvjni Delaware. A posse numbering in all 500 men, including those under Gen. Griffin and Col. Wooster (who were in pursuit ot the murderers of Steele,) had marched from Blen heim in search of the disaffected, but they ma naged to keep out of the way. Several suspect ed persons had been captured, and a large num ber ot Indian dresses and masks were found, also a flag bearing for an inscription the motto “ Victory or Death.” On Tuesday night of last week a party of in surgents were prowling about North Blenheim to intercept the Sheriff and his guard and take the public arms, which he was conveying to Schoharie. The Sheriff however did not come through the place where they were watching, until afffr day light, and was thus saved from the threatened attack. Terms of amnesty and peace had been sent in by some of the prominent anti-renters of Blenheim; but a general surren. der and disclosure ol their terms of association, ■ their Indian oaths, &c,, and a satisfactory assu rance of no further opposition to the authorities only, would be accepted. Should such terms be complied with, the settlement will probably - be effected as far as it can be legally and ad visedlv done. A man named Kilmer was arrested, and by some it was supposed that he was Scudder, who it was said was concealed in Blenheim. No person however had as yet been seen to identify him The Scoharie Pilot extra slates that there were, on Wednesday afternoon last, assembled on Blenheim Heights about 450 armed citizens : who, under their several commanders, spent that and the succeeding day in calling at the habitations of the anti-renters in that county; but no one, except women and children, was at home. The women of course, would not tell where their husbands had gone, or when they expected them to return. The posse, however, succeeded in finding some twenty or more per sons, whom on Thursday, they marched to Gilboa, where they will be examined as to their 1 participation in the violation of the laws of their I country. Silver Mines in North Carolina. Prior to 1838, but little silver ore had been obtained from mines in the United States. In- | deed it was not known to exist in this country j in its native state ; but it is mostly contained in j the argentiferous lead ores, from which it was i sometimes extracted. Indeed it is generally ■ extracted from lead ores; the annual produce j in Great Britain from these ores is about 10,- | 000 lbs, valued at some 14 of $15,000. It | seems however, from an article in the last j number of Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine, that the Washington Mining Company, incorpora ted by the Assembly of North Carolina in 1839, have been operating at the mines discovered a short time previous in Davidson county, with considerable success. The Washington mine, it seems, is situated about eighty miles from Raleigh, the capital of the State, and the present terminus of the great chain of railroad from the North. From De cember. 1843, silver had heed extracted from the ore of the value of $24,000. and of gold $7,253. This amount of ore was produced from about 160,000 lbs. of lead; making an average pro duce of over 240 ounces of silver to the ton, 4, 000 lbs, of lead. From the commencement of the mining operations up to November Ist, 1842, a period oi 27 months, the actual product was 2661 pigs ol' argentiferous lead yielding silver and gold to the amount of $13,288, this being the net value after deducting the charges of the United States Mint lor separating the gold from the silver, and alloy requisite to re duce it to the standard coinage. From the 13th of October, 1843, to the Ist of October, 1844, the produce of the Washington mine has been $40,- 397, as follows: Amount of silver received, 830.902 70 “ Lead “ 3 589 27 “ Scoria? “ 2,550 76 Siiverinpari, 1,478 64 11 Lead “ 638 18 Lilheraee ts 75 00 “ Metal and Scoria* in trans mission, 1,152 91 $40,379 47 In 1842, R. C. Taylor, E*q., of Philadelphia, made a report of these mines, (which is em bodied in the article in Hunt’s Magazine,) in which it is stated that at the forty feet level, the yield of the ore when dressed was about 50 per cent, of lead ; and from 20 to 120 ounces of silver to the lon of lead. The value of the sil ver varied from SI.BO to $2.80 per ounce; its price being enhanced by the large portion ot gold found in combination with its depth. At the sixty feet level, the ore increased in richness, but was irregular in its value. At its best and most remarkable points, it yielded as much as 5 000 ounces to the ton. Such points were, however, few and small, forming exceptions to the prevailing richness of tb" lode. The general average is stated to be 126 ounces of silver to the ton of metal. Here the sulphuret of lead, or galena, was first met with, in small quantities; but the bulk of the ore continued similar to the 40 feet level, being a carbonate of lead, with exception of the pro portion o' gold, which gradually diminished, but was recovered again at the 160 feet level. Arriving at tt e hundred feet level, the galena predominated; bur, in other respects, the mine presented the same aspect as at the 60 feet, in creasing in regularity. At the 160 feet level, the vein is nearly all suiphuret, as regards ihe lead, and the area is enlarged. It was estimated that this argentife rous ore, locally termed “ the black ore.” pro duced on an average from SB7 50 to SIOO per ton, in equal proportions as to the value of the lead and the silver, after deducting the expen ses of smelting, It was here that some masses of extraordinary rich blue galena were met with, worth at the rate of SI,OOO per ton. O" A case ot singular character was tried be fore the Court of GUjerter Sessions at Harris burg, Penn., last week, which is thus noticed in a letter to the Philadelphia Ledger: A man named Root, of this borough, for the purpose of testing the honesty of a boy in his employ, placed 12J cents in a vest nocket as a bait tor him, (he is about 10 years of age.) which he stole. Root prosecuted, and the Grand Jury found a true bill! The counsel for defendant, John Kunkle, Esq., made a most successful defence. He took lor his text the most striking part ol the Lord’s praver —“ Lead usnot info temptation”—and, in a strain of elo quence seldom if ever heard in the Dauphin bounty Court House, he addressed the Court and jury. Never did counsel plead with more inspiration; never did counsel so rivet the atten tion and gain such a mastery over the feelings of an audience as did Mr. Kunkle over those who were present. His powerful eloquence caused the tear oi pitv to dim the eves ot a ma jority of both the Court and specie tors, and I am informed that one old gentleman was so well pleased that he has ordered Mr Kunkle a costly gold headed cane, having engraved thereon “Lead ns not into temptation”- a just tribute to worth and talent, and a boon that an Empe ror might envy. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty. Tne judge took occasion to make some remarks, which I think neither the Grand Jury, the Prosecuting Attorney or the plaintiff, relished in the least. Prom, the South Carolinian, August 21. Mesmerism among Snakes. Pomaria, S. C., July 31st, 1845. Col. A. G. Summer: Dear Sir—On Monday the 28th inst., as I was returning from dinner, about 2 P. M., to my school, about 3 miles west of Pomaria, 1 heard a noise near ihe road, and on examination found it proceeded from a large black snake, commonly called a coach whip, about 6 feet long, which had a half grown rab bit by the head and was in theactof swallowing it. Upon my approaching the snake it disen gaged itself from the rabbit and glided off. 1 picked up a stone, and the snake slopping at the distance of forty yards from where I first dis covered it, 1 killed it with a single blow. As soon as 1 struck the snake, on looking back 1 found the rabbit coming up, and it stopped im mediately at the dead snake’s head. I then moved the snake, and the rabbit still pursued it and I left it. About 6 P. M., 1 returned to the place to gether with all my pupils, and the rabbit re mained in the identical position in which I had left it. My son moved it again, but it immedi ately returned to its post at the snake’s head, and we left it a second lime, still charmed by the continuing spells ot the dead serpent. 1 re ■urned to the spot the next morning, but could find no trace of the rabbit. Now, can any one tell what secret power lies hidden in the organi i, Ration ofaserpent which caused this incident? It is wondrous strange, and well might puzzle more learned heads than mine. If the above possesses any interest it is at your service for publication. I am, very faithfully yours, Geo. M. Fulmer, From the N. Y. Observer. Suwarrow’s Passage of the Glarus. BY REV. J. T, HEADLY. j Switzerland is lull of battle fields, many of I them glorious from their association with free dom. The traveller—especially the American | traveller—looks on them with the deepest inte : rest. But there is those on which his eye rests j with painful interest; for while he cannot but | stand and wonder at the achievements of man 1 his heart is pained with the ravages he has j wrought. , Forty six years ago, one night in September, ; the peacelul inhabitants of the Muotta Thai | were struck with wonder at the sudden appear ance among them of multitudes of men of a strange garb and language. They had just gathered their flocks and herds to the fold, and were seekingtheir quiet homes that slept amid the green pasturages, when like a mountain »or rent, ca me pouring out from every defile and mountain pass, these strange unintelligible be ings. From the heights of the Kinzig Culm— from precipices the shepherds scarce dared to tread—they came streaming with theirconfused jargon around tho cottages of these simple chil dren of the Alps. It was Suwarrow, with twenty-four thousand Russians at his hack, on his march from Italy to join the allied forces ol Zurich. He had forced the passage of St. Go thard, and had reached thus far when he was stopped by the Lake Lucerne, and was told that Korsakow and the main Russian army were delcaled. Indignant and incredulous at the re port, he would have hung the peasant who in tormed him as a spy, had not the lady mother ot St. Joseph’s nunnery interceded in his behalf. Here, in this great Alpine valley, the bold commander found himself completely surround ed. Molitor and his battalions looked down on him from the summit ot the Muotta Thai; Morlier and Massena blocked up its mouth; while Lecouibehung on the rear. The Russian bear was denned, and compelled lor the first time in his life, to order a retreat. He wept in indignation and grief, and adopted the only al ternative left him—to cross the Pragel iu Gla rus. Theu commenced one ot those desperate matches unparalelled in the history ot man.— The passage ot the St. Bernard by Bonaparte, was a comfortable march compared to it; and Hannibal’s world-renowned exploit mere child’s play beside it. While the head of Suwarrow’s column had ascended the Pragel and was fight ing desperately at Naefels, the rear guard."en cumbered with the wounded, were struggling in the Muotta Thai with Massena and his battal ions, Then these savage solitudes shook to the thunder of the cannon and the roar of the mus ketry. The startled avalanche came leaping from the heights, mingling its sullen thunder with the roar of battle. The frightened chamois paused on the high precipice to catch the strange uproar that filled the hills. The simple hearted peasantry saw their green pasturages covered with battling armies, and the snow capped height crimson with the blood of men. Whole companies fell like snow wreathes from the rocks, while the artillery plowed through a dense mass ol human flesh that darkened the gorge below. For ten successive days had these armies marched and combatted; and yet here on the eleventh, they struggled with una bated resolution. Unable to force the passage to Naefels, Su warrow took the desperate and awful resolution of leading his wearv and wounded army over the mountains into the Gri sons. Imagine, if you can, an awful solitude of mountains, and precipices, glaciers piled one above another in savage grandeur. Cast your eye up one of these mountains, 7.500 feet above the Wei of the sea, along whose bosom, in a zig zag line, goes a narrow path, winding over the precipices and snow fields till finally lost on the distant summit. Up that diffir ult path, and into the very hear' of those fearful snow-peaks was the bold Russian resolved to lead his 34.000 men. To increase the difficulties that beset him, and rendered his destruction apparently inevita ble, the snow fell on the morning he set out, two leet deep, obliterating all traces of the path, an i forming as it were a winding sheet for his army. In single file and whith heavy hearts, that mighty host, one after another, entered the snow drills and began the ascent. Only a few miles could be made the first day, and at night, without even a tre: to kindle fora light around their silent bivouacs, the army lay down in the snow, the Alpine crags around them for their sentinels. The next day the head of the column reached the summit of the ridge, and lo! what a scene was spread out before them. No one who has not stood on an Alpine summit can have anv (’oncepiion of the utter dreariness of this region. The mighiv mountains, as far as the eye can reach lean along the solemn sky, while the deep silence around is broken by the sound of no living thing, Only now and then the voice of the avalanche is heard speaking in its low thun der tone from the depth of an awful abyss, or the scream of a solitary eagle circling round some lofty crag. The bo’d Russian stood and gazed long and anxiously on this scene, and then turned to look on his straggling army, that, far as the c e could reach, wound like a huge anaconda over the white surface of the snow. No column of smoke arose in the desert wild lo cheer the sight, hut all was silent, mournful and prophetic. The winding sheet of the array seemed enrolled before them. No path guided their footsteps, and ever and anon a bayonet and feather disappeared together, as some poor soldier slipped off’ the edge of a precipice and feli into the abyss below. Hundreds, overcome and disheartened, or exhausted with their pre vious wounds, laid clown to die, while the cold wind, as it swept by, soon wrought a snow shroud for their forms. The descent on the southern side* was worse than the ascent. A treezing wind had hardened the snow into a crust, so that it frequently bore the soldiers. Their bayonets were thrust into it, to keep them from slipping, and the weary and worn creatures were compelled to struggle every step to prevent being borne away over The precipices that almost momentarily stopped their passage. Yet even this precaution was often vain. Whole companies would begin lo slide together, and despite of every effort would sweep with a shriek over the edge of Ihe preci pice, and disappear in the untrodden gulfs be low. Men saw their comrades, by whose side they fought in many a battle, shoot one after another over the dizzy verge, striking with their bayonets as they went, to stay their progress. The beasts of burden slipped from above and rolling down on the ranks below, shot away in wild confusion, men and all, into the chasm that yawned at their feet. As they gradually advanced, the enemy ap peared _ around on the precipices, pouring a scattering yet destructive fire on the struggling multitude. Such a sight tltpse Alpine solitudes never saw—such a march fio army ever made before. In looking at this pass the traveller cannot believe an army of 24 000 men were marched over it through the fresh fallen snow ■ two feet deep. For live days they struggled ■ amid these gorges, and over these ridges, and finally reached the Rhine at Jlanz. For months alter, the vulture and eagle, hovered incessant ly along the line of march, and beasts ol prey were gorged with the dead bodies. Nearly 8,000 men were scattered among the glaciers and rocks, and piled in the abyss, and the bones of many an unburied soldier may still be seen bleaching in the ravines ol the Jattser. Good Spunk. —ln the Woonsocket Patriot we notice the advertisement of Mrs. Mary Irons, wherein she gives old Irons such a dose as will not set well on his stomach. Mary is an ironer and crimper, as the good-lor-nolhing Arthur has probably long ago found out: “ Whereas, Arthur Irons has seen fit to ad vertise me as having left his bed and board, car rying off his children, &-c., therefore I hereby give notice to all who may feel interested in the matter that said Arthur Irons, since his mar riage, has had neither bed nor board which was not procured with my money; that all tie fur niture which I took away I purchased ana paid for myself; that he had no money which did not belong to me , and as to getting trusted on his account, he cannot get trusted himself where he is known; that I can better maintain myself than he can ; and that I prefer Hying alone to living with a rum jug! Mary Irons. Love’s \ ietim.— By J, G. Whittier. “They parted as all lovers part, She with her wronged and broken heart— But he. rejoicing he is free, Bounds like a captive from his chain, And wilfully believing she Hath found her liberty again.—L. E. L. If there is any' act which deserves deep and bitter condemnation, it is that of trilling wiih the inestimable gilt of women’s affection. The fe male heart ma compared to a delicate harp over which the breathings ot early affections wander, until each tender chord is awakened to tones of ineffable sweetness. It is the music of the soul which is thus called forth—a music sweeter than the fall of mountains, or the song of Houri in the Moslem’s paradise. But wo for the delicate fashioning of that harp if a change pass over that which first called forth its hidden harmonies. Let neglect and cold unkindness sweep over its delicate strings, and they will break one after another —slowly, perhaps, but surely. Unvisited and unrequitted by the light of love, the soul-like melody will be bushed in the stricken bosom—like the mysterious har mony of the Egyptian statue before the coming of the sunrise. I have been wandering among the graves, the lonely and solemn graves. 1 love at times to do so. I feel a melancholy not unallied to pleasure iu communing with the resting place of those who have gone before me—to go lorth alone among the thronged tomb-stones, rising from every grassy undulation like the ghostly senti nels of the departed. And when I kneel above the narrow mansions of one whom I have known and loved in life, I feel a strange assurance that the spirit of the sleeper is near me, a viewless and ministering angel. It is a beautilul philoso phy, winch has found its way unsought for and mysteriously into the silence of my heart—and if it only be a dream—the unreal imagery of fancy—l pray God that I may never awake from the beautiful delusion. i 1 have been this evening by the grave of Emily. It has a plain white tomb-stone, flat, hidden by flowers, and you may read its mourn ful epitaph in the clear moonlight, which falls upon it like the smiles of an angel, through an opening in the drooping branches. Emily was a beautiful girl—the fairest of our village maidens, I think I see her now, as she looked when the loved one—the idol of her affection— was near her with his smiles of conscious tri umph and exulting love. She had then seen but eighteen summers, and her whole being seemed woven of the dream of her first passion. The object of her love was a proud and way ward being, whose haughty spirit never relaxed from its habitual sternness, save when he found himself in the presence of the young and beau tiful creature, who had trusted her all upon the “ venture of her vow,” and who loved him with the confiding earnestness of a pure and devoted heart. Nature had deprived him of the advan tagesqf outward grace and beauty; and it was the abiding consciousness of this, which gave to his intercourse with society a character of pride and sternness. He felt himself in some degree removed from his fellow-man by the par tial fashioning of nature; and he scorned to seek a nearer affinity; his mind was of an ex alted bearing, and prodigalot beauty; the flow ers of poetry were in his imagination a perpetual blossoming—and it was his intellectual beauty that Emily bent dovrn to—bearing to the altar of her i 10l the fair flowers ot her affection—even as the dark-eyed daughters of the ancient Gheber spread out their offerings from the gardens of the East upon the altar of the Sun, There is a surpassing strength in a love like that of Emily’s—it has nothing gross nor low, nor earthly in its yearnings—it has its source in the deeper foundations of the human heart, and is such as the redeemed and sanctified from earth might feel lor one another, in the fair laud ot spirits, Alas, that such love should be un requited, or turned back in coldness or darkness upon the crushed heart of its giver. They parted—Emily and her lover—but not before they had vowed eternal constancy to each other. The one retired to the quiet of her home, to dream over again the scenes of her early passion ; to count with untiring eagerness the hours of separation—and to weep over the long interval of "hope deferred.” The other went with a strong heart to mingle with the world, girded with pride and impelled forward by am bition. He found the world cold and callous, and his own spirit insensibly took the hue of those around him; he shut his eyes upon the past, it was too pure and mildly beautiful, and holy as it was pure, he turned not back to the lovely and devoted girl, who had poured out to him the confiding earnestness of woman’s affec tion ; he came not back to fulfil the vow which he had plighted. i Slowly and painlully the knowledge of her 1 lover’s infidelity came over the sensitive heart | ot Emily. She sought for a time to shut out the horrible suspicion from her mind; she had 1 doubted the evidence of her own senses; she could not believe that he was a traitor—for her memory had treasured every token of his aflec- , tion, every impassioned word and every endear ing smile of his tenderness. But the truth came at last—the doubtful spectre which had long haunted her, and from which she had turned a wav, as if it were a sin to look upon it, now •mod before her a dreadful and unescapable vi sion of reality. There was one burst of pas sionate tears, the overflow of that fountain of affliction which quenches the last ray of hope in that desolate bosom, and she gazed steadily and with the awful confidence of one whose hopes are not of earth, but upon the dark val- , ley of death, whose shadow was always around her. It was a beautiful evening in summer, that I saw her for the last time. The sun was just setting behind a long line of blue and undulating hills, touching their tall summits with its ra diance like a halo which circles the dazzling brow of an aneel —and nature had put on all the rich grandeur of greenness and blossom.— As I approached the quiet and secluded dwel- I ling of the once happy Emily, 1 found the door , of the parlor thrown open, and a female voice, of a sweetness which could hardly be said to belong to earth, stole out upon the soft summer air. It was like the breathing ot an JSoliaa lute into the gentlest visitation of the zephyr. I involuntarily paused to listen, and these words—l never shall forget them —came upon my ear like the low and melancholy music which we sometimes hear in dreams : “Oh! no—l do not fear to die, For hope and faith are bold, And life is bat a weariness— And earth is strangely cold. In view of death’s pale solitude, My spirit has not mourned— ’Tis kinder than forgetting love, Or friendship unieturned ! And I could pass the shadowy land In rapture all the while— If one who now is far away Were near me with a smile. It seems a dreary thing to die Forgotten and alone— Unheeded by our dearest lov— The smiles and tears of o*e I Oh ! plant my grave with flowers, The fairest of the fair— The very flowers he loved to twine At twilight in my hair Perchance he may yet visit them, And shed above my bier The holiest dew of funeral flowers Affection's kindly tear.” It was the voice of Emily; it was her last song. She was leaning on the sola as I enter ed the apartment, her thin white hand resting on her forehead. She rose and welcomed me with a melancholy smile; it played over her features for a moment, flushing her cheek with a slight and sudden glow, and then passed, away, like the strain of ocean music when it dies away slowly and sweetly upon the moon lit waters. A few days alter, J. stood by the grave of Emily. The villagers had gathered together, one and all, to pay the last tribute of respect and affection to the lovely sleeper. They mourned her loss with a deep and sincere emotion ; they marvelled that one so young and so beloved should yield herself up to melan choly, and perish in the spring-time of her ex istence. But they knew not the hidden arrow which rankled in her bosom; the slow and se cret withering of the heart. She had borne the calamity in silence—in the uncomplaining quie tude of one who felt that there are woes which may not ask for sraypathy; afflictions, which like canker concealed in the heart of some fair blossom, are discovered only by the untimely decay of their victim, * From the St. Louis Reveille. MOTHER. Os all the words in language, there’s no other Equal in gentle influence to mother ! It is the first name we learn to love— It is the first star shining from above; It is a light that has a softer ray Than aught we find in evening or day. Mother! —lt back to childhood brings the mao, And forth to womanhood it leads the maiden. Mother!—’Tis with 'he name all things began, That are with love and sympathy full laden. O ! ’tis the fairest thing in Nature’s plan, Tha' all life’s cares may not affection smother, While lives within the yearning heart of man Melting remembrance of a gentle Mother! Pkazha. THE HEART, The human heart—that restless thing! The tempter and the tried; The joyous yet 'he suffering— The source of pain and pride ; The goigeous thronged—the desolate, The seat of love, the lair of hate— Self-strong and self-defied ! Yet do we bless thee as thou art, Thou restless thing, the human heart. died" In Madison, at the residence of Col. H. G La mar, on the morning of the 22d ult., Henhy Ga zf^AY ’ ¥ ed d m °nths and 23 days, infant son of Dr. Albert and Mrs. S. S, Rees, of Americus. Sumter county. commerciTlT _ . New York. August 26. Th. operations at the Stock Exchange this morning were to a limited extent, and prices had a downward tendency. There is a moderate inquiry for Money, and short paper of undoubted character is discounted atb cent annum. Cotton —The market has been inactive during the last three days without any material alteration in rates ; prices however, are ra'her in favor of the buyer. Tha sales amount to 1,100 bales, of which 800 were sold to day. Upland Florida. Mobile Sf New Orleans. Inferior none. none. Ordinary 6J ® 6| [6* fa) 6| JJidd ing 6} fa) 7} 7 (a) 7\ Middling fair 7% (3) 7| 71 ® Fully fair 8 (a) 8J 8f fa) 9£ Fine nominal. nominal Angus' 27. Cotton —’l he sales to-day reach 700 bales; prices remain as quoted yesterday. Flour —There is a steady demand for Genesee at $4 62§, and for Ohio and Michigan at $4 44 (a) 4 56J. ' MARINE L.IS T. Charleston. August 30. Arrived —U L brig George, Yates, New York. Cleared —U L brig Sullivan, Wai'e, N York; Line ship Catharine, Crane, NY; schr Waterman, Coates, N Orleans. CAMP MEETING. iLf 1 ' WILL be opened at the White Oak Camp Ground, a private Boarding House by JESSE CLARKE, for the accommodation of Gentlemen and Ladies who may wish to attend the Camp Meeting. Also, apublicHorselot will be open, with good stables, and a conveyance will run from the Ga. R, Road for the accommodation of the Public upon reasonable terms by WM. B. BEALL, sl-t&wlt* WAREHOUSE AND COMMISSION BU SINESS, AUGUSTA, GA. THE undersigned informs his friends and the public, that he continues to trans act the above business at the very safe and exten sive FIRE PROOF WAREHOUSE , on the corner of Washington and Reynold streets. His personal and undivided attention will be devoted to the interest of his customers, in the storage and sale of cotton, &c., and hopes, by strict at tention to business, to receive an increase of pa tronage. Liberal cash advances will be made, when re quired, on produce in store. slw4t M. P STOVALL. RICHMOND County, Georgia.—ln Equity in the Superior Court. Ives & Brother vs. the Augusta Insurance & Banking Company, Arthur G. Rose and the Bank of CharlestoVi. S. C. .Stovall & Simmons vs. 'he same. William Dearing vs. the same. It appearing to the Court that the defendant, Arthur G. Rose, resides in the State of South Carolina, and that the defendant, the Bank of Charleston, South Carolina, is a corporation lo cated and doing business in the State of South Carolina, ordered that the said Arthur G. Rose and the said the Rank of Charleston, South Ca rolina. appear and answer said bills of complaint respectively, on or before the first day of the next January Term, and that service of this or der be made by publication thereof in one of the public gazettes of the city of Augusta once a month for four months prior to the next Term of this Court. A true copy from the minutes, 26th June, 1845. JAMES McLAWS, Clerk, September 1,1849.