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[For The Sonny Sooth.] John Mitoliel, the Irish Patriot. BY O. A. LOCHRANE. The death of John Mitchel at Dromalane pro duced a deeper and wider expanse of popular manhood of the people. This was his course, and once entered upon, he knew no returning tide. When Mitchell moved, it was forward, and when he spoke, it was to utter his enter tained opinions. He never wrote or spoke a sen timent which breathed compromise with his ene mies; and when he stated, at the Music Hall in San Francisco, “As for me, I have not come here to whine about my own suffering: in the sympathy than did the death of an ex-emperor j worst and blackest of my dungeons, my enemies a short period before at Chiselhurst; and yet never extorted from me one word of submission,” the one was crowned amid the gold and glitter I * ie expressed what all felt was true, and strong as the heart which had suffered in the cause of of courts, while the other was flung as a felon from his native land out into the wilds of Tas manian forests. f In John Mitchel’s career we find no triumph ant successes, and yet his death has excited the sympathy of conti nents; wherever we turn, the tide of homage swells up, and eulogies and exclamations of love mark the scenes, as they distinguish the efforts. In early life, his history w r as marked by no promise of extra ordinary power; but from the pa rental roof at Dnngiven he glided along into boyhood, and into col lege, and into his profession of law, without any romance of an ticipatory distinction. Nursed in the north of Ireland, the genius of the man could not have been enriched by any historic glow of patriotism,as the scenery of Derry, like its people, was little calcu lated to develop any wild or flash ing inspiration; but Mr. Mitchel, at the age of thirty, exhibited, in his earnest devotion to the cause of Irish nationality, a strength of purpose and fixity of opinion which soon placed him in the vacant chair of Davis, and demon strated the intense sentiment of hostility he cherished to all mean ingless resolutions and driftless reaching after possibilities. Mr. Mitchel was gifted with no cants or hypocrisies, and scorned to live in mists and wait opportu nities, talking without resolution and moving about in a labyrinth where there was perpetual motion, but no advance. To his mind, ora tory was babble except it meant something to fire the heart and kindle the enthusiasm of the peo ple. The “Conciliation Hall” movement soon began to tumble in popular esteem, and repeal rents dissolved, and the people followed the pillar of fire which at last lit up the hopes, if it did not guide the steps of the patri ots. In the advance went John Mitchel, carrying the flag of defi ance and covered with insignias of popular devotion. He dis trusted the Whigs, and would wait no longer for their promises. “There has been,” said he, “no lack of patience and quietness,— far too much patience and quiet ness— unchristian, inhuman pa tience and quietness. ” The rest lessness of the people soon began to sympathize with the demand for accomplishment, and nothing had been done. O’Connell had taught the masses “that liberty is not worth a drop of blood,” and made this a test declaration—“re pudiating, disclaiming, denounc ing and abhorring the use of phys ical force under any possible cir cumstance.” This doctrine was odious to John Mitchel, and he met it with the following dis claimer: “ My father, sir, was a United Irishman of ’98—thought liberty worth some blood-letting; and although they failed, it were rather hard that one of their sons would now be thought unworthy to unite in a peaceful struggle for the independence of his country unless he will proclaim that he abhors the memory of his own * father.” The issue may be easily ' foreseen. But in the new depart- *~ ure from “Conciliation Hall,” in which the young Ireland element all united and embracing the men who filled the page of 1848, Sir William Smith O'Brien had not realized the utter hopelessness of waiting on the union of classes, and therefore proposed, by a resolution, what was virtually only over again the test declaration. The resolution read: “That a society be now formed, under the title of the Irish Confederation, for the purpose of protect ing our national interests and obtaining the leg islative independence of Ireland by the force of opinion, by the combination of all classes of Irishmen, and the exercise of all the political, social and moral influences within our reach.” After three nights’ discussion, the resolution was adotped, and Mr. Mitchel felt that under a new organization the old system of “agitation” was to be revived. It was a new issue of speech making and resolutions, and some more idle promises from the Whigs of ameliorative legis lation; and against all such Mitch el’s exclama tion was, “Good Lord, deliver us.” He strug gled to excite a healthier public sentiment, and to drown out and stamp out of existence all place-begging, and let the leaders lay down a platform upon which the Confederation could stand united. The leaders desired a platform where they still hoped the clergy, the middle classes and the aristocracy could unite with the Confederation. Mitchel despaired and followed up his blows dealt in the columns of the Ration by still bolder and braver ones through the col umns of the United Irishman. These repeated appeals to the masses led to a special act to crush out the effort; and John Mitchel knowing the end—for he meant revolu tion and not resolution met the provisions of the bill bravely and like a man. He was taken from his dinner-table to Newgate, and went through the form of a trial with a packed jury— was convicted, sentenced and transported: and leaving his property confiscated, his family at Robert Holmes’, the brother-in-law of Robert Emmet, Mitchel was carried from Ireland on his way to Australian forests. The drift of national affairs soon carried his friends through the same processes to the same destiny. In looking over this short history, the mind is struck with one overwhelming conviction—that John Mitchel was in earnest. -Men may differ with his policy, but with his fidelity, no man hesitates the homage of his confidence. Mitchel Ireland; for he never, in all his long, clouded, troubled life, did an act for his friends to forget or his enemies to criticise. In his works, and which show the highest type of intellectual color and shape his pictures of men and things; and in sadness, when sentiment was necessary, his words dripped with tears. John Mitchel was in his companionship the very soul of friendship, and men loved him with the tenderness of pride. He was so gentle, so well-bred, so considerate in the smallest courte sies, so truthful, so honest, so unselfish, so com panionable. The writer can never forget a week spent with him at his home, when the outside world was clad in green and sprinkled with flowers: we were poring over the pages of books he had marked in his exile, and discussing the columns of the Ration newspaper. What a wealth of thought he poured out! How Irish history became alive with interest, and how many life-like portraits he painted of his con- ship, as it walked the waves up to the Irish shore, had a prouder step on board and a more royal heart than visited the country in a cen tury. We can see the vessel dashing through the”waters and see the proud, inflexible, intre- i pid patriot as he strains his eyes to catch the | glory that for him hangs like a halo around the Irish coast. We can almost feel the rush of as you represent yourself to be could have failed to capture Miss Josephine or some other woman’s girl, we can't understand. You must be mortal ugly, but that, we believe, is no objection with the girls. Y’our reputation must be bad, and exceedingly bad, for it is said to be one of the easiest things in the world to get married. Even an ordinary fellow finds but little trouble, and hopes as they troop by to reach the land before from your account of yourself, you are quite an ’ --- — J — J -*■ extraordinary one, for you can cook, wash, and darn, and it is a pity you can’t milk. Add that to your other accomplishments, and you will certainly succeed. Look after your character and build it up, and you will not have to wait another five years before some clever female will inform you that she is ready to fix up the vouchers. him. We can understand the strange light which circles his brow and shines out on the land he loves as he steps once more upon his native soil; not as Meagher predicted in 1848, “the citizen of a free State,” but as member elect for the county of Tipperary. And then from the arms of victory Fame furls the banner, and John Mitchel looked on the rising sun to “I HAVE MADE NO ?EACE WITH ENGLAND —John Mitchel. merit,-in his speeches, and they all burn with the fire of genius and patriotism,—in his jour nalistic career, and he edited several papers,— throughout all, the spirit of John Mitchell lives and breathes, and stamps them all with fidelity to the cause he espoused, and brilliancy and power in the manner of the espousal. It will be said that he made mistakes—that he was impet uous—that he did not count cost, and that his devotion to Ireland was the romance of a lover, rather than the loyalty of a subject. Whatever may be said of successes, in things of ordinary effort—in matters of devotion to principle, and in struggles for national causes, and in sacrifices for personal independence, successes are not always tests: sometimes the dash of troops saves battles, though the fiery spirit that led may go down—and John Mitchel was of the stuff you make martyrs. About five feet eleven inches in height, with slender frame, eyes peculiarly winning, and black, wavy hair, John Mitchell could have met scaffolds or'a dungeon for principle; and it was this courage, soul-truth and earnestness of the man that has made him so dear to the Irish people. He loved society and could appreciate wit and humor, though seldom indulging in anecdote. His laugh rung out silvery and pleasant and his conversation literally sparkled with thoughts, and was inlaid with information. His criticisms were generous except when cant came in the way, and then his tongue, like his pen, would come down like a lash. He loved music and the society of ladies, and would listen to Irish melodies until his eyes would fill with memo ries. He was hospitable and unsparing in his courtesies and attentions to his friends, and con fiding, as his stream of talk would take in all subjects, social and intellectual. He was no lover of money, for his heart seemed to dwell on one idol. He was passionately fond of John Martin and T. F. Meagher, and always laudatory when allu ding to O'Brien. Differing from Meagher in the Confederate struggle, he never criticised his motives or indulged it in others. As an orator, Mr. Mitchel was not in the first rank; and yet his diction was pure, the flow of was never a place-beggar. When he thanked the his language rapid, his illustrations copious and men of Tipperary on his re-election, he illus- | classical, his arguments clear and deduced from i temporaries! With what keenness and deli- | cacy he drew’ the curtain aside, and presented j the images in his ow’n mind which had been ; sleeping since his residence in Tennessee, and j with w’hat glow of glory he W’ould flash up when j the future of Ireland became the theme! The | pale face would then lighten and the eye sparkle I and the voice grow eloquent, while his slender fingers would twist the wavy lock of hair which I fell down upon his forehead. And then the charm of his household w’as so perfect in its con fidences and hopes,—his wife still fresh and graceful, with eyes gazing into his, and listening to our talk about places and people near her home in the county of Arnagh: his sons just verging from teens to twenties; his daughters, Henrietta, Minne and Isabella, all were young and lovely and beloved. Alas ! when I recall his letter to me from Richmond, in which he speaks of the loss of his youngest son at Gettys burg, of his daughter Henrietta in France, and of the sadness settling over the fortunes of the Confederacy, the cloud seems to come between the eye and the paper. The last time the writer met Mr. Mitchel was in New’ York. We went to the Astor House and talked of the-South. He was true to every turn of Southern interests, and his invective on Gen eral Dix was dashed with the vitriol of exple tives and expressions only he could use. His imprisonment after the warwas unprovoked and unmanly. He stood with the section of his adoption and for principles of self-government to which he had given his sons arid devoted his own energies, and in his feebleness of frame and brokenness of spirit, he never forgot or forgave the outrage. He did not speak of revisiting Ireland, but talked freely of American politics and politicians. He feared the future of republican institutions on this continent, but said smilingly, that at least the example of our prosperity would sow a crop of j-oung republics in Europe; that the Miss L. J. (Columbus) asks: “Is it right for a young lady at balls or dancing parties to engage herself five, six or eight sets ahead ?” . . . We do not think it is, for in that way she runs the risk of giving offense by forget ting the engagements. It is troublesome to keep memoran dums, and besides, she may de prive herself of the pleasure of dancing with some favored friend who has had no opportunity of making an engagement. 'The girls should decline making any engagement beyond one quad rille. The young men should not expect them to do otherwise. J. W. C. (Cuthbert) says: “I am in love with the prettiest lit tle girl in Cuthbert. I love her devotedly, but she does not care so much about me. I have just started to farming, and you know a wife is the thing a man needs. Please, now, allow one of your “school-boys” to make one re quest through The Sunny South ; that is this: I want to know what I must do to iiqjke her love me. I don’t drink nor chew tobacco, and I am not the prettiest boy you ever heard of; I am only “passable,” as the girls say.” A straight-forward, upright, manly course on the part of a young man will win the respect of both men and women. After you have w’on her esteem by your correct deportment, it will not be difficult to win her esteem. Make a successful farmer and good citizen, and the girls will not slight you, whether you be good-looking or not. A Subscriber (Prattsburg) says: “As you are a good gramarian, I write to ask you what is the plu ral of Taylor’s goose The plural of goose is geese, no mat ter whether it be a tailor’s or a farmer’s goose. And by the by, unless you learn to spell better, you will be put among the geese yourself. You spell and write tailor as though you referred to some man by that name. V. Y. (Kentucky) says: “I am a w’idower with four children. Am proprietor of a school, and have fallen in love (the usual fate of mafl) with one of the teachers, who has been here for nine years. Would you advise me to marry her?” . . . Wid owers with children have the strongest reasons for marrying, but they should be exceedingly cautious in their selection, for the interest and happiness of their children as well as their own are at stake. But a “teach er,” it strikes us, would be a good selection. She has of course studied the nature and charac teristics of children, and would no doubt make your little ones an excellent step-mother. Sandy (Georgia) says: “lam a young man in the prime of life, twenty-eight years of age. I formed the acquaintance of a nice young lady in Georgia three years ago, and have cor responded with her ever since: Have been engaged to her for two years, but have never mar- ried because I was poor. Now, she is perfectly willing to be fall asleep before the clouds were crimsoned j come my wife, poor as I am. I have her with its departing fire. But it is in Ireland— Irish hearts are around him; it is in Irish earth he sleeps, and the dews trickling from the stars will drip through the green sods that clasp him to weep upon his ashes. ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. Alice B. (New’nan) asks: “Who is the author of‘Home, Sweet Home?’ In addressing a let ter to Washington City, you always put D. C. at the bottom of the address. What does D. C. stand for? Where can I find these lines,— ‘Though Lost to Sight, to Memory Dear?’ . . . John Howard Paine is the reputed author of “Home, Sweet Home.” D. C. stands for the District of Columbia. You should refresh your self in geography. Edna (Madison) says: “I have been corres ponding with a young gentleman for some time. We have written to each other most every week since our correspondence first commenced. We are only friends—not a word of love has ever passed between us. Now, what I want is this: I wish to Break off' the correspondence, but do not want to offend the young man (we have always been good friends, and I wish our friend ship to continue). Now, will you please tell me Id what way I can break it off without offense.” Write less often, and let the correspondence cool off gradually. Once a week is too often to write to keep up any interest. “White Rose-Bud,”Madison, Ga.—“Suppose three girls—for instance, Cleopatra, Ophelia and Juliet—were to send a gentleman a valentine, and he, during a visit to their city, should show it to numerous acquaintances, have they any true cause to be angry? Please reply early, as we parents’ consent. Please inform me what course to pursue. I love the young lady devotedly, and am perfectly willing to do anything honor able for her sake. Must I marry her and work for property, or work for property and then marry ? By answering you will confer a great favor on yours, etc.” ... If you have firmly settled upon some honorable vocation and made up your mind to succeed and have a home or comfortable place to put a wife, it might be well enough to take her in at once. She might he a great help to you in achieving success. But if you have nothing—no money, no home of your own, no occupation, we say, by all means let the girl stay with her father and mother. It is a burning ontrage fora young man who has no means and no occupation to deceive a worthy girl from her comfortable home and subject her to poverty, drudgery, and consequent neglect. If he is honest, industrious and determined to work, it is a different matter, whether he has any money or not. Ten Good Hints. ^ - . - . in Xiurcpe, uihl me ( are j n „ rea ^ sus p e nse, and let us know your seed had been planted, “ God only knows who opinion b of the fellow.” . . . None whatever. trated his sentiments when he said: “As long as I have the honor to represent you, I will not sell yon. I will not be found haunting the doors of ministers to get little offices and little places for my constituents or any relations of my constitu ents.” This, in a word, contained the elements of his political creed—ask no favors and insist on right. Trained as a lawyer, he knew that revolutions in the order of law must be failures. The law of the Union was of force. To move within it, was to give up the struggle; to move within it, to repeal it, was a delusion: to move ithout it, to force the elements to grant it, re quired bold, manly effort and an appeal to the his propositions. He would hurl word after word when bitterness of invective to his ene mies aroused him: but he lacked the fervency and fluency of deliver}-, and the effort of thought seemed to repress the tide of speech. As a writer, he was overwhelming and fascina ting. He carried the reader on from the first sentence to the close: there was no stopping- place. How beautifully and gracefully he could invoke the poetry of expression when he in dulged in description, and how strong and heavy the words came together when he was raising his composition for his climax! With what magic word-painting he could throw into may harvest,” etc. In his reference to Georgia, he knew all the leading men, and General Toombs was his favor ite. There was something about the chivalry and brilliancy of the one which largely attracted the other. To Colonel Whitttle, of Macon, he was specially complimentary, and spoke of Gen eral Gordon warmly, and of his son having acted on his staff. He made no allusion to a trip over to Ireland, and he looked too feeble to make the inquiry, and the writer did not contemplate, with all the fire he knew burned in the brain and heart of John Mitchel, that he would cross the ocean, a solitary invader, to defy Great Britain. But he went, and found the welcome to which his sac rifices for Ireland entitled him: and his coun trymen rejoice that he was honored by a seat in Parliament, and that he died in the land he died for. It was a glorious end to a life that rose so craped and clouded with disappointments. The opinion Valentines are not binding documents; but sim ply pleasant reminders, and the parties sending them are presumed to be unknown. It is best always to keep the one receiving a valentine in suspense and doubt as to the sender. The fel low is not to be blamed for showing it, because j no responsible name is attached. F. O. (Monroe) says: “I have been trying to i marry for the past five years, but Miss Josephine nor nobody else’s girls won’t have me, and I can't tell why. I am twenty-two years of age; have two good eyes and am full grown to my age. j Am not proud, but look as pretty as I can. I I am perfectly sound, have good health and lit tle money, but can cook, wash, and dam socks, The following pithy code of newspaper by-laws is the best we have ever seen: 1. Be brief; this is the age of telegrams and short hand. 2. Be pointed; don’t write all around a sub ject without hitting it. 3. State facts; don’t stop to moralize — it’s drowsy business; let the reader do his own dreaming. 4. Eschew prefaces; plunge at once into your subject, like a swimmer in cold water. 5. If you have written a sentence that you think particularly fine, draw your pen through it; a pet child is always the worst in the family. 6. Condense; make sure you really have an idea, and then record it in the shortest possible terms. .7 When your article is complete, strike out nine-tenths of the adjectives; the English is a strong language, but won’t bear too much “re ducing.” 8. Avoid high-flown language; never use stilts when legs will do as well. 9. Make your sentences short; every period is a mile-stone, at which the reader may halt and rest himself. 10. Write legibly. Sound Advice.—Let the winds and the waves of adversity blow and dash around you, if they will; but keep on the path of rectitude, and you will be as firm as a rock. Plant yourself upon principle, and bid defiance to misfortune. If gossip with her poisoned tongue meddles with but can’t chum nor milk. I have a year’s rations I your good name, heed her not. Carry yourself on hand for two; and if any lady thinks the j erect; let your course be straightforward, and above will suit her, let her bring her recommen- j bv the serenity of your eouritenance and purity dation fixed up in good style with proper vouch- . of life, give the lie to all who would underrate ers. Apply at once.” . . . How such a “catch” , and belittle you,