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PARSON BROffNLOW’S DEATH. Xotwl Governor, Editor, and NoiiHtor. New York Sun. April 30. The Rev. William Gannaway IWnlow better known as Parson Hrownlow. died yesterday afternoon at Ins residence in Knoxville, Tenn. Ho was horn August 20, 1805, in Wythe county. Va.. and was the eldest son of Joseph A. Hrownlow, who cultivated a farm there, and was a private in a Tennessee company in ttic ” ar of 1812. Two uncles of the Parson were privates un der Gen. .Jackson, and two others were of ficers in the navv. The Parson’s father died in ISIG, ami his mother, formerly Catherine Gannaway. died three months afterward, leaving three sons and two daughters to the care of relatives. William was eleven years of age at the time and was taken in charge by liis mother's family, who bred him to farm work until he was eighteen, and then apprenticed him to a enr penfer of Abingdon, Va., His education, casually obtained in country schools, had been very imperfect and as soon as his trade was learned, he sought to increase his knowledge by regularly attending a school. He entered the Methodist minis try in 1820 as an itinerant preacher, and continued his studies. In 1832 lie was cho sen by the Holston Conference as a delegate to the general conference in Philadelphia, and during the same year travelled a cir cuit in South Carolina and Georgia. lie took strong ground against nullification, and drew upon himself furious animadver sion. At the same period he became en gaged with a clergyman of another denom ination upon slavery, and in a pamphlet, said that it would one day shake the Gov-, eminent to its foundation. V I expect,” he said ‘‘to see that day. and not to be an old man either The tariff question now threatens the overthrow of the Government. but the slavery question is one to be dread ed. While 1 shall advocate the owning of men, women, and’children, I shall, when the battle cotnes, stand by my Government and the Union formed by our fathers." Mr. Brownlow began his political career in Tennessee, in 1828, by siding with John Quincy Adams against Andrew Jackson. He advocated a strong and concenerated Federal Government, and as an ardent Whig, regarded Clay and Webster as his political standards. In 1837 he became editor of the Knoxville Whig, and from the vigorous and defiant style of his articles obtained the title of the " Fighting Parson." He engaged also in religious controversies, and wrote several religious books. In 1858 he held a public debate in Philadcl fihia upon slavery with the Rev. Abram ’ayneofNew York, and defended the in stitution. At the outset of the secession movement, in ISGO. Mr. Brownlow advo cated in his newspaper an unconditional adherence to the Union, as it was the best safeguard of Southern institutions. On account of this he experienced much perse cution, ami ©eased publishing the- Whig in October, 18G1. lie announced that he would not again print the newspaper until the State had become cleared of rebels, and avowed his determination never to take the oath of allegiance to the Confederacy. “ 1 shall go to jail," said he " for my princi ples. I shall go, because I have failed to recognize the hand of God in the breaking up of the American Government, and the inauguration of the most wicked, cruel, un natural. and uncalled for war ever recorded in history." He was taken by friends to a place of concealment in the mountains of Tennessee, but was induced to appear at Confederate military headquarters in Knoxville, under promise of a safe escort to the Union lines. Upon his arrival there, in December, 18(51, he was arrested (n a civil process for treason and thrown info jail. After a month's confinement he was released, but was immediately rearrestsd by military authority, and kept under guard in his own house, until March 3,18G2. He was then escorted to the Union lines at Nashville. He subsequently lectured or made speeches upon the war in various cities of the North, and wrote his autobi ography, which became known as " Par son Brownlow’s Book,” and had an ex tensive sale. In September, 18(53, he re turned to Knoxville, which was then under Union sway, and again printed his news paper, which is stiil in existence. In ISGS, when Tennesse returned to the Union, Mr Brownlow was elected Govern or by a heavy majority, and was re-elected in 18G7. He showed excellent executive ability, great honesty and firmness, and was thought to be one of the best Govern ors the State ever had. He was elected by the Legislature to the Uuited States Senate for the term beginning March 4, 1809. and at the expiration of six yeats re turned to the editorship of his journal. Eililiug in tlie Tar West. Winncmucca (.Yen.) lietjister. The other afternoon, as the editor of this Faper was quietly attending to his business, .. A. Buckner came in and excitedly asked : " Are you the editor of this paper?*’ We answered, "Yes.” He then drew out a whistler, and, pointing it in our vicinity, snapped it. \\ e instantly threw him down, the stove going over at the same time. We stooped down, and began wiping up the floor with his cowardly carcass, not noticing the pistol, which he was still try ing to use. A printer jumped in and took the pistol from Buckner, when we allowed him to get up and ordered him to go out of doors. He picked up a bar of steel about twenty inches long, and undertook to strike us with it, but was prevented by our gentle grip on his windpipe. In shoving toward the door we shoved him through the glass, a fragnient of which cut a small gash in the editorial scalp. The article we suppose the superannuated old fool took offence at called no names, and was a matter of com mon street talk, and was published as an item of news. We shall continue to pub lish all news items we can come across, regardless of who it hits, and hereafter be prepared to defend ourselves against who ever comes to assassinate us. We retract nothing, nor are wo sorry for the mercy $1.50 A YEAR. shown an “ old man.” “ Lay on, Macduff! and damned be he who first cries, • Hold, enough!” The “old man” left his how itzer on the field of battle, and can have the same by calling, proving property, pay ing damages, and apologizing for his cow ardly attempt at assassination. Win* Was 4'nsitbiiinca ? The school-boy who does not know and has never declaimed Mrs. Homans' jioem, beginning. “The Hoy Stood on the Horn ing Deck,” has says the Youth's Compan ion, certainly missed a treasure and a fa vorite. The history of the “ boy ” thus immortalized is not generally known, and Mr. F. M. Colby prepared it some time ago for the Morning Star. Owen Casabianca was a native of Cori sica, on which island he was born in the year 1788. His father was Louis Casa blanca, a distinguished French politician and naval commander, and the friend of Napoleon, who, you will remember, was also a Corsican. He was Captain at this time of the Orient, one of the largest ves sels in the French navy, a magnificent ship of war, carrying 120 guns and .">OO seamen. Of Casabianca's mother we know little save that she was a young and beautiful Corsican lady, and devotedly attached to her son. Owen was her only child, a handsome, manly little fellow, with her beauty in his flashing eyes and dusky hair. She died while he was yet very young, and, when the green sod was placed above her grave, the boy left the pleasant valley under the smiling hills of Corsica to go with his father and tread t the hard deck of the vessel. Mere child as he was, Casabianca soon grew to love his father’s dangerous calling, and became a favorite with all on board. He was made a midshipman, and at the early age of 10 years participated with his father in the battle of the Nile, The ship caught tire during the action. Soon after Capt. Casabianca, the father, was wounded by a musket ball. Not yet disabled, he was struck in the head some minutes later by a splinter, which laid him upon the deck insensible. His gallant son, unconscious of the chief tain's doom, still his post at the bat tery, where lie worked like the hero lie was. lie saw the ilamcs raging around him, lie saw the ship’s crew deserting him one by one, and the boy was urged to fiec. With courage and coolnes beyond his years he refused to desert his post. Worthy son of Louis Casabianca, lie fought on and never abandoned the Orient till the whole of the immense vessel was in flames. Then seeing refuge on a floating mast, he left the burning ship behind him. But he was too late. The final catas trophe came like the judgment doom. With an explosion so tremendous that every ship felt it to the very bottom, the Orient blew up, and from among the wreck the next morning was picked up the dead, mangled body of the youdg hero whose story romance and poetry cannot make more heroic than it was. His tragic fate has been related in mil lions of homes, and the father's glory has been overshadowed by that of the son's brave, faithful heart. He rests now far beneath the waters in that classic sunset land, and maybe the rushes of the Nile whisper his requiem where they tremble in the fragrant Orient breezes that sweep from the Midland sea. And who shall say it is not a noble grave? Didn't Waul Prayer Wasted. " There was another story," continued Petz, with a twinkle in his eye, but the same grumbling tone in his voice, " ferry wicked; but many's the time I will hef a laugh at that story. That was about two men in a boat, and the night it was so black that they couldn't find their way into har bor at all, and the wind it was blowing fer ry hard. And the one says to the other, 1 Duncan, you must gif a prayer now, or we will liefer get into the harbor at all.’ And Duncan says, ‘ I canna do it; you maun do it yaurself, Donald.’ And Donald he will say, ‘ Tam you, Duncan if you do not gif a prayer we will be trooned as sure as death' for I can see nothing but blackness.’ And so it was that Duncan will stay in the stern of the boat, and he will kneel down, and he will say, ‘O, Lord, it is fifteen years since 1 hef asked you for anythings ; but it will be another fifteen years before I will ask you for anything more, if you tek the boat into harbor.’ And then, sure enough, at this moment there was a great sound of the boat going on the beach, and Donald that was up at the bow, he will cry out, ‘ Stop, Duncan, do not pray any more, do not be beholden to anybody, bekass the boat's ashore already." —William Mack's “ Madcap Violet .” How to Kuweeil. If your seat is hard to sit upon, stand up. If a rock rises up before you, roll it away or climb over it. If you want money, earn it. It takes longer to skin an elephant than a mouse, but the skin is worth some thing. If you want confidence, prove your self worthy of it. Do not be content with doing what another has done—surpass it. Deserve success, and it will come. The boy was not born a man. The sun does not rise like a rocket, or go down like a bullet fired from a gun ; slowly and surely it makes its round, and never tires. It is as easy to be a leader as a • wheel horse. If a job be long, the pay will be greater; if the task be hard, the more competent you must be to do it. HARTWELL, GA., WEDNESDAY, MAY !), 1877. A Strike lor It It; lit I.lYiiijf. BY I.OCIS 8. itham. I have made tip my mind and I H do it at Inst; No longer shall fetter* mid eliains keep me Ixmiid ; The yoke of my bondage far from me Ml cant, By datdiing the poison-brimmed cup to the ground. Men often strike now for short day* mid high pay, And nation* rebel against Tyranny’* sway, So 1 11 strike for n name, and a place among men, For death to my foe, for true manhood again ! You nsk what has hapiiened f T was staggering along Through the dim-lighted street* a few nights ago, And was singing these words of u hnrelmmil song: “ Though bread limy be scarce, yet the Clip shall o’erflow!" When a stranger said : "Friend, I entreat you to come And rest for awhile in our Temperance home!” I went, and was glad, and can give thanks to-night, Fora hope that is making my future all bright ! I was tattered and bloated, too loathsome to stand Among noble men who for charity meet; Yet me, a poor drunkard they tisik by the hand, And talked with me kindly, With words pure and sweet— Called me friend, called me bmthcr and made me forget That I once was forsaken and a wanderer yet; And I grew stronger in knowing that any one cared What home or what fate a poor drunkard shaivd. I was ragged—they clothed me in raiment all whole! Discouraged—they placed a sure prop at my side ! I was hungry—they fed both my body and soul ! I was weak—they taught in whose strength to abide ! So fallen, so lost. I scarce knew what to do! 15ut 1 signed their brave pledge, ami my pledge shall be true! Anil my wife? That night, when I entered my door, And told the good news, she forgot all her cares, And fell on her knees at my feet on the tloor, And cried : "Glory! glory! God has answered my prayers!” Then she lifted her eyes, dimmed with tears to my face, And clasped me once more in her loving embrace. Oil. the thought of the bliss of (hat rapturous hour Shall keep me for aye from the-Tempter's dark power! And my children 1 They read in our look* some great joy; So I showed them my pledge, and they shouted, “ He’s signed ! Father has signed the pledget" AWt ttrm Kwlity, my boy, 'Round my shame-stricken faco his little arms twined— Laid his wan check to mine, and witli quivering lip, said: “We can always have pennies now, can’t we, for bread ! And papa, when yon conic we can run to the door, And not be atraid, and not hide any more!" Then I folded him close to my grief smitten breast, And said, “ Bobby, my boy, you can trust father now! I am learning to walk in the way that is best— I am striving to blot the shame-mark from my brow! Too long have I lived a drunkard’s sad life— Too long I’ve degraded my children and wife! But while Reason shall hold a firm place on its throne, So long, with God’s help, I'll leave liquor alone! And I'll strive for right-living, to a place among men, For the love of a place—for true manhood again !” Tlie Drtinltiirri'M Appetite. There was living not long since, in Brook lyn, a man who had inherited from a drunk en father an appetite for rum. He was a hopeless drunkard. The man had many noble instincts, and better than all these, lie had a loving, faithful brave wife, who made skillful war upon the demon, her hus band’s master. Recognizing the fact that her husband was under overpowering im pulse, that he longed and struggled man fully to free himself from the passion for drink, she bent all the energies of her wo man nature to the task of helping him. She loved and suffered and toiled until at last the loving and suffering and toiling ac complished their purpose. She took her husband by the hand, and shared with him his struggle, until, after years of labor she overcame his master, and saw him a free man again. Her battle with rum had been a fierce one, taxing and wasting her strength sorely, but she was conqueror at last. Her husband stood upon manly feet, and showed no signs of falling again. Several years passed away, and this reformed man fell ill of consumption. The distin guished physician, from whose lips we have the story, prescribed akohohe stim ulants as the only means possible of pro longing his life. The poor wife was in ter ror. and begged the physician to recall the prescription. She told him of her long struggle and victory, and said she preferred that her husband should die then a sober man, than that he should fill a drunkard's grave a year later. The freed spirit of the man was strong, and he undertook to take alcoholic liquors as medicine, and to con fine himself absolutely to such times and measures in the matter as the physician should prescribe. This he did, and, du ring the months thus added to his life he never once drank a single drop more than the prescription called for, and he died at last a sober man, as the wife had so earnestly prayed that he might. But the end was not yet. When the loving patient woman laid him in his grave, and saw her long labors thus ended in the victory for which she had toiled so hard and suffered so bitterly, she turned, in her grief, to the brandy which had been left in the house, and drinking it, she fell herself into the I power of flic fiend which she had fought jso heroically. And that woman died not I many months later, a hopeless, helpless, drunkard. A tpicer Customer. Detroit Free Freer. A funny old man—a peddler in notions —popped out as Rijnh opened the corridor door. “ You acknowledge that you got drunk, do you ?” asked the Court. “ l et; 1 own right up.” “ You 101 l in the mud, lost your stock in trade, and bit the policeman who arrested you f” “ That’s just what 1 did, your honor, and 1 believe I ought to be sent up for three months. I believe I’ve got down to a mean point, and it needs something to bring me up standing. Send me up. and it will prove n great moral lesson to me.” “ Why don't you go to Florida and plant an orange grove?’’ asked his Honor, as lie looked down benignly on the old pioneer. “ Florida—orange grove ! why, 1 couldn't plant string-beans, your Honor! I can't tear up the soil and root round like a young man with muscle and backbone. I'm over 70 years old, all shrunk up, ugly tempered, ami I want a check put upon my mad ca reer.” “ I don't want to send an old man like you to the bars,” observed the Court. “ Why can’t you emulate the example of Socrates, and behave yourself! I'’ 1 '’ “ I don't care for Socrates, and I’m liable to go out of hero and kill a man,” exclaim ed the peddler. “ Well, you'll have to kill somebody, then.” sighed bis Honor. “If 1 send you up you'd eat twice as much as you could earn, and I also believe that you are a real nice old man when you are sober.” “No. 1 ain’t—l'm a regular old cocoa nut with all the peeling left on ! Won’t you send me up, and give me to understand that I've got to behave myself or suffer the consequences?” “No—can’t do it; one old man makes more fuss up there than forty young men. You'll have to go on snuffing the pure air of liberty and dodging April showers.” “Now do 1 thirst for blood !” whispered the old man as he went out. He saw a sailor across the street and rushed over to wallop 'Mm, and tlmn prow laws 4*ptir*u character in the very eyes of the court. “ Who’s this sailing across my bows?” growled the .Jack Tar, as the peddler bumped against him, and be dropped the old man in a melting snow-bank as easily as a boy gets away w ith a jawbreaker. Biot Much Ahead. Detroit Free I‘rees. A man with the most lonesome expres sion an artist ever conjured up for canvas halted at an eating stand on the Central Market yesterday and said : “My good woman, I have been robbed of eight thousand dollars in this city." " Poor man !’’ she promptly sighed. “ Yes, robbed of eight thousand dollars, and I am a hundred miles from home, and hungry and penniless.” “ And you want something to eat?" “ Yes, ma'am." “ You shall have it. Sit right down here.” He sat down and she gave him some cof fee, a piece of meat and a biscuit. When he had finished eating he said : “ Madam, did you really believe my story ?” " No, sir," she answered. " You thought 1 lied, did you?’ 1 “ I knew you did.” " But you gave me food.” “So 1 did. My boy found a dog yester day, and gave him more than he could eat. I simply gave you what was left, to save filling up the slop-pail.” “ Madam,” began the man as his mouth commenced to draw around ; “ madam, 1 —I don’t see whether I'm ahead of the dog or the dog ahead of me on this thing ; but I know you’re ahead of both, and I feel sick. You played it well, and if there’s any dying declaration in my case I won’t mix you in. Bye-bye, old gal—l’m failing fast." "If You I'lcasc." When the Duke of Wellington was sick, the last thing he took was a little tea. On his servant's handing it to him in a saucer and asking him if lie would have it. the Duke replied. "Yes, if you please.” These were his last words. How much kindness and courtesy arc expressed by them ! lie had commanded great armies, and was long accustomed to the tone of authority, but did not overlook the small courtesies of life. Ah, how many boys do ! What a rude tone of command they often use to their little brothers and sisters, and some times to their mothers. They order so. That is ill-bred, and shows, to say the least, a want of thought. In all home-talk re member “If you please.” To all who wait upon or serve you, believe that “ If you please ” will make you better served than all the cross or ordering words in the whole dictionary. Do not forget the three little words, "If you please.” Sork Noses, Catarrh, Sore Throat, a sure cure is Dr. J. 11. McLean’s Catarrh Snuff. It is anew antisceptic principle, never fails. Trial boxes, by mail 50 cents. Dr. J. 11. McLean, 314 Chestnut Street, St. Louis, Mo. A CHINESE MISSION A TO N. Y. The ChiniMiinii wlio linn Conic to Tench Xt‘ I’ork Clii-Kl Imix ltnddhl*iii. •V. 1", Stin. April 30, Tn the house of Madatno Hnvitsky, at 302 West Forty-seventh street, a reception was given last evening to Wong Ching Foo, a Chinese political exile, who t* lecturing on the religions and politics of his country. Col. Henry S. Oleott was master of cere* ’ aiMN4k v A\i <•> Mwilumc Mra.ua graceful hosrtMSfN* 7.W wav a small party of men and women present. Mr. Wong, ns he is called by his American friends, was suffer ing from indisposition, and was not visible when the company assembled ; but he soon afterward entered the parlor, and was in troduced by Col. Oleott. He is but 26 years of age and slight, almost to effemin ency, but lias a singularly pleasant and in telligent face. His hair is worn in a neatly braided queue that reaches the floor. His dress, distinctly Chinese, was rich, and consisted of a black braided skirt reaching to his feet, a sleeveless brown velvet jacket cut square and open in front, a standing collar, black skull cap, and thick soled Chi nese slippers. About his neck hung a long, massive gold chain, and nn emerald pin fastened iiis snowy silken neckerchief, Mr. Wong explained his object in corn ing to this city, and made clear ninny points of the Huddhist belief that are gen erally misunderstood among us. lie said that lie wished it to be clearly understood that he did not come here in an aggressive spirit; that he was not trying to under mine our faith in Christianity, but that hv wanted to give ns a correct impression of bis country and its religions, lie is par ticularly incensed at the dogma of some Christian denominations—that all so-called heathens are doomed to eternal damnation. Ho said, “ 1 respect Christianity, ami I venerate Christ as I do Buddha and Confu cius, and 1 want to prove to Christians that the Chinese have as high a civilization, load as pure lives, and have as strong hopes for happiness in a future life, as they them selves. We do not bow down to images and worship them. The images represent great sages, like Confucius, great statesmen or noted warriors, and when we kneel be fore them and pray, it is that the good God will endue us with a tithe of their wisdom and goodness. Your golden rule to love thy neighbor us. thyself was taught as one of the fundamental doctrines of Buddhism thousands of years 1 before Christ was born. The Mosaic law—the ten commandments —was taken from the books of Buddha, in which you may now read them almost word for word. You in this country are taught that we Chinese eat nothing out rice and puppies and rats; that our women are slaves or worse. 1 never knew of these things until I came to this country. Your missionaries do not understand us. Be cause we do not do things as they are ac customed to do them, they say we are un civilized ; because they never learn the first principles of our religion, and conse quently cannot understand it, tln*y sny wo are heathen and must suffer eternal dam nation. Then, too, they only mingle with our lowest and most degraded classes, and, of course, we have such as well as you, from whom they learn the very worst fea tures of Chinese life. The salary received by a missionary in China is a fortune in that country, and on it he can live in lux ury; so, of course, it is a good thing for him to make us out as very wicked, and thus retain his position. These things burn into my heart, and I want to explain them to the people of this country, that you may know us for what we are, and not vvliat you have been taught, by ignorant or prejudiced people, to believe us to be,” NVoiig Ching Foo talked for several hours on this topic, earnestly, and with an enthu siasm that communicated itself to his hearers. He readily answered questions, many of which were asked for the purpose of tripping him, and explained clearly all disputed points. He talks English almost without a foreign accent. Mr. Wong’s life thus far has been one of startling adventure, according to his ac count, Educated in Shanghai, he was sent to this country to learn English in 1808, After a year’s residence in Washington he returned to China so thoroughly coversant with our tongue that he was appointed as an imperial interpreter. Becoming indig nant at the cruel tyranny of the reigning dynasty, he entered into a conspiracy to overthrow it, and became one of the lead ers of the movement. It was discovered, and many of the leaders were decapitated ; he, however, was warned in time and lied. For months he wandered in swamps and jungles, pursued J>y armies and with a high price set upon his bead. At length he made his way to an English mission sta tion, and, frankly telling who and what he was, asked protection. They took him in, fed and clothed him, and then told Jiim that they had denounced him to the Gov ernment, and that troops were on their way to seize him. He asked them if they knew what would-be his fate if captured, and described to them the horrible tor tures indicted upon conspirators. They said yes, they knew all that, but that they had arranged matters so that he would simply be decapitated. They then advised him to trust in Jesus, and bade him good night, after securely bolting all the doors and windows. During the night he cut a pane of glass from his bedroom window, and, leaping twenty feet to the ground, made good Jiis escape. After sufferings from sickness, starvation, and the treach ery of supposed friends, lie reached the coast, and found in the steward of a trading vessel, a friend who concealed him until the vessel reached Yokohama. His retreat being discovered, he was again on the point of being captured and delivered up to the Chinese Government, when Colonel Sheppard, the American Consul, assisted him to escape on board an American ship bound for san Francisco. Even there he was followed by Chinese assassins, and thus compelled to come East for safety. He has determined to become an American citizen, and devote his life to the opening of our eyes to the true state of affairs in his native land. NUMBER 37.