BY S. B. ROW.
CLEARFIELD, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6, 1850.
VOL. 2.-W, 51.
DO YOU REALLY Til INK HE DID 1
, . I waited till the twilight,
" ' And yet be did not come '
i r I strayed along the brook-side,
And slowly wnnderod home ;
When who should come behind me,
-: r ; But him I would have bid ;
. - lie said he came to find me
' Do you really think ho did?
' Ho said that since we parted,
He thought of naught so swoct,
.;. As of the very moment,
The moment we should meet.
-He show 'd me where, half shaded,
, A cottage homo lay hid,
Bo said for mo he made it
Do you really think he did ?
lie said when first he saw me,
. ' ; - Life seemed at onco divine
Each night ho dreamed of angels,
And every faue was mine.
1 Sometimes a voico, when sleeping,
Would all his hopes forbid,
And then he waked np weeping
Do you really think ho did ?
A RACE FOR LIFE,
Or a Steeple Chass on the Prairies.
-. The first of Juno, 1849 ! Seven years ago !
How stranger than fiction it seems that on mis
seventh anniversary of that eventful day, after
traversing all the vicissitudes of experience,
after boxing the compass of life's stormy sea,
and shaking hands with every extremity of for
tune, I should be seated at last in this quiet
littlo sanctum; the hum of that mighty city,
which was then the goal of all our hopes a
round me ; the wild freedom of the illimitable
prairies exchanged for the confines of a dingy
office; my snorting charger discharged for
this old arm chair ; the badge of the pioneer
laid aside for a more peaceful weapon, this
"gray goose quill."
It was on this day seven years ago. Eighty
five of us, weary wanderers over the trackless
prairies, were day after day and month after
month toiling onward to this land of gold,
whose lofty sierras and summer plains have
since gathered to their eternal embrace so ma
ny members of that gallant youthful band. It
was Sunday in the wilderness; the wagons all
"corralled" on the banks of the "Little Blue,"
the toil-worn mule scattered around, joyfully
cropping the grass under the watchful vigi
lance of the guard. Some of the party were
bathing in the clear stream, some cooking,
mending clothes, washing, lounging, or smok
ing,and all enjoying to the full a glorious sun
shiny day of rest and indolence, when some
evil genius possessed me with a sudden desire
to be the first of the party to slay the long ex
pected "buffalo," an animal we had not yet
encountered, but which now begun to be the
constant theme of conversation and conjec
ture. Several of the boys were hunting tur
keys in the margin of the timber, which skirt
ed the river, so that when I saddled up my
eiced, and, with rifle at my saddle-bow, started
out to the northward, tho few who observed my
departure exchanged sly winks at my proba
ble disappointment, but never dreamed of the
thrilling adventure that I was so rashly rush
ing into.
. Although we knew that we were about the
confines of the Pawneo Territories, and had
indeed been warned by a convoy of trappers,
whom we had met but a few days previous, re
turning from their distant wintering ground in
-the mountains, that war parties were out, yet,
confident in our numbers, and the entire ina
bility of our unpracticed eyes to detect any
traces of them, we had attributed the well
meant warning of the old mountaineers rather
to a spirit of news mongcring than anything
else, and rather despised those wild Bedouins
of the prairies of whom we heard so much,
bnt bad as yet failed to sec.
Far away over the beautiful undulating and
vernal bosom of the trackless prairies I rode
gently along, on the cuirire for any indica
tions of the ol ject of my desires, but though
I eagerly scanned the horizon as I proceeded,
not a living thing met my eyes except a few
antelopes, whose wary caution and quick per
ception rendered them impossible of approach
upon the open prairies.
. Far as the vision could reach, nought but a
monotonously undulating surface of gently
wclling and naked hills, covered only by the
buffalo grass and flowers of every hue, extend
ed in every direction towards the fair horizon,
when the blue sky of summer kissed the dis
tant bills glowing in the fresh verdure of tho
advancing season.
Struck with the voiceless solitude of this
untrodden desert, 1 1 ode slowly along, lazily
musing on the strange vicissitudes which so
suddenly translated me from college halls to
this wild scene, and had almost imperceptibly
placed some seven or eight miles between me
camp, when, far in the distance, directly in
front of me, I discerned a column of dust,
which, as I supposed, betokened the long de
sired buffalo. Away went romance and reflec
tion. The ardor of the hunter took posses
ion of me, and hastily loosening my pistols
and glancing at my rifle's lock, I struck spurs
to my steed and galloped forward.never doubt
ing that the opportunity so ardently coveted
was now at hand.
Charging down the hill and across the inter
vening valley, I rose another gently swelling
roll of the prairie, and as I gained the summit,
again the moving cloud of dust met my gaze,
and this time considerably nearer, and, as I
closely regarded it, I perceived that it was ra
pidly approaching, and I began to discern tho
flashing of bright objects gleaming out from
Ms obscurity. This locked less like buffa
lo. As the object, whatever it might be, con
tinued to approach, I halted for a bettec view,
and was not long in making "out a band of
mounted Indians, their snow-white shields and
burnished lance-heads glancing brightly in
tho morning sun. , .
Still, however, I scarcely thought of Paw
nees, but supposed it might be some hunting
party of friendly Pottawatomies or Sioux;
and, at all events, knowing the mettle and
power of my horse, and having a retreat at
pleasure, I thought I incurred no great risk by
waiting for a more satisfactory inspection.
Gradually across tho broad expanse of the prai
rie, they drew nearer and nearer, now disap
pearing from view in crossing some concealed
hollow, and again displayed in bold relief a
gainst tho sky as they surmounted some pro
minent ridge.
At length their distance was diminished to
less than a quarter of a mile and thinking a
nearer acquaintance undesirable, I turned my
horse's head, with a view of riding moderate
ly towards the camp, till they should manifest
some design to pursue me ; when imagine the
chill of horror which curdled my blood, as I
saw two smaller parties in my rear, galloping
together from either side to cut off my retreat,
and heard the terrible yell which all three rais
ed, as they saw their wild manoeuvre discover
ed, and that further silence would be useless.
Whilst the main body had continued to at
tract my attention by advancing conspicuous
ly towards me, these two parties bad taken ad
vantage of the numerous hollows, which at
times had concealed them temporarily from
view, to diverge, and by a wide circuit, attain
my rear, I, greenhorn that I was, never dream
ing of this common Indian stratagem, while
stupidly regarding the first and only object
which attracted my gaze. The two intercept
ing parties were rapidly converging towards
the line of my retreat, and were already with
in a quarter of a mile of each other, while I
was no more than half the distance from the
centre. The main body.with a fearful whoop,
dashed on to close me in.
My horse was fleet and true, but he Was also
travel-worn and fatigued. How long could he
distance those wild coursers of the desert, even
if I escaped the immediate danger ? But there
was no time to deliberate. Now or never was
the chance. Another moment would be too
late. Grasping my rifle with a firmer clutch,
and re-assuring with caressing words the fright
ened steed, who alone could save me from a
horrible fate, I made a bold dash for the inter
val which still seperatcd the detached parties,
and upon which they were rapidly closing.
Nobly the gallant animal responded to the
call. Snorting with terror at the wild shouts
of our pursuers, trembling in every limb with
the intensity of his exertions, he flew over the
ground, and with the fleetness of the wind, he
dashed between the approaching hordes,within
a hundred yards of us on either hand.
With the energy of despair I grasped the
saddle with my knees, and bent forward fo as
sist his flying course. On, on, towards the on
ly hope of safety, fifty yelling demons hard
upon our tracks, their blankets and finery fly
ing in the wind, onward we sped, pursuers
and pursued, over the broad expanse of that
prairie ocean.
Soon the fleetness and blood of my Ameri
can courser began to tell on the enduring but
slower-footed mustangs of the Indians. Some
of the worst mounted were gradually dropping
to tho rear, and after running two or three
miles they were strung out in a long line be
hind me. Gradually I slackened my speed,
for I well know that the bottom and endurance
of Indian horses, accustomed to traverse im
mense distances at a single stretch is almost
without limit, and many a long mile was still
before us. Again they would diminish the
distance, and again I was obliged to urge my
jaded steed to his best efiorts.
But I was begining to breathe freer, the
first startling alarm was over, half the distance
was accomplished. If my gallant grey could
but maintain his tremendous exertions but
four miles more I was safe. Once in sight of
camp and the prudence of my wild pursuers
would glacco but once at the eighty American
rifles which would gleam from behind our
wagon wheels.
I was descending a long but gentlo inclina
tion towards a broad level depression in the
prairie which spread out about a couple of
hundred yards wide at its base. My savage
pursuers were for a moment out of sight be
hind the ridge I had crossed. I reached the
foot of the hill at full speed ; my steed plun
ged forward on what seemed hard ground ;
and, O, despair ! sank to his belly in a treach
erouf swamp! Ah! can the gathering years
of all futurity ever blot from my memory the
despair of that awful moment J How far this
seemingly impossible barrier extended up and
down the rivulet which divided it, I could
not guess. A terrible yell burst from the ex
ultant warriors as they appeared over the crest
of the ridge and recognized the dilemma they
had too truly anticipated.
Terribla fears chilled my blood. In that
brief moment, as the wild savages came char
ging down the hill, tumultuous thoughts of
home and friends, mingled with the bright an
ticipations, as long cherished, of a golden fu
ture In the land of promise, came thronging
In wild confusion through my teeming brain.
There was one hope left, desperate as It
' seemed ; but there was no time for delibera
tion, no opportunity for choice. Resistance
was madness. I was hemmed in on every
side but one. Straight ahead was my only
chance. I might flounder through, and, at all
eveuts suffocation or capture in the bog was
no worse than instantaneous destruction where
I was. . . . ; . .
Dashing the rowels into the trembling ani
mal, I madly urged him forward. The soil
though covered with grass andapparantly firm
gave way at every step. Ploughing his way
by gigantic efforts, now for an instant raising
himself on some harder spot, then sinking
to his saddle-girths, urged by my frantic ex
ertions, terrified to phrensy by the appalling
yells of the rapidly approaching enemy and
the shots which began to whistle around us,
the noble animal toiled gallantly on and gain
ed the firm bank just as the dusky forms of my
pursuers, infuriated at the possible loss of
their prey, were clustering on the opposite
side, seeking a favorable spot to follow.
Their deliberation saved me. It required
a strong control of .reason to walk my failing
horse slowly up the hill while the Indians
were floundering after me through the swamp.
But I rightly judged that a little breathing
time would not be wasted on him. I turned
the summit of the bill just as the discomfitted
Indians were begining to crawl out from the
bog, and again putting spurs to my jaded horse
once more we sprung forward in that mad race
for life or death. Onward we rushed, over
hills and valley, across streams and ravines,
in head-long flight, pursuers and pursued.
The timber which marked the camp grew
more and more distinct ; now for a moment
more concealed by an intervening hill, and
again as we flew over its summit rising near
er and clearer to view. My horse was rapidly
failing great flakes of foam flew from his
mouth. Covered with mud ,and drenched
with sweat, he still, however, toiled gallantly
onward, spurning the sod of the prairie with
his flying hoofs. But tho goal was nearly
won. Ob ! if he could hold his pace a little
longer ! The tireless mustangs of the Indians,
no match for his fleet limbs in a short stretch,
now exhibited their wonderful powers of en
durance. Onward they swept after us with
undiminished speed, their unshorn manes and
sweeping tails mingling with the flowing dra
pery of the wild riders and flying out upon
the wind.
The timber banks of tho "Little Blue,"
which I had so eagerly longed for, had for
some moments been concealed by a long but
gentle swelling ascent, the summit of which I
was approaching. If from here the white wag
ons of our camp should bo visible over the un
interrupted plain I should yet reach them.
But, oh ! if another of these interminable
ridges should intervene ! My poor horse was
on his last legs. But to perish in sight of
safety, to bo taken in view of the camp by
theso implacable savages ! My brain teemed
with theso maddening doubts as I neared the
spot which was to decide my fate, and I trem
bled with eagerness for the view which might
consign me to despair.
I neared the summit ; another bound and
we went over, and flying with faltering steps
down a long gentle inclination which swept
away in gentle undulations to the longed for
timber, still about a mile ahead. I strained
my eyes for indications of comrades ; and oh !
rapture unspeakable ! far away, but directly
before me, nestling at the base of the long
dark line of cotton-wood, in full view of the
panting fugitive, loomed up the white circle
of tents and wagon tops dearer to my long
ing gaze than to the desert worn pilgrim tho
lofty minarets and marblo palaces of Eastern
story.
A shout of triumph and exultation burst
from my lips as I discovered the welcome
scene and recognized the gate of my deliver
ance. I looked back. One after another
savage came bounding over the ridge pres
sing on with the wild fury of disappointed
rage. But their practiced eyes were uot slow
to discover ray reiuge, and one after another
pulled up his panting steed and gazed with
baffled malignity after their expected victim.
But I was saved ! Covered with foam and
sweat my gallant preserver burst into camp,
and, as I sprang from the saddle into the midst
of my startled comrades, with a groan of ex
haustion he sank quivering to the earth. The
faithful creature bad toiled to the last; he had
done his best, bis powers were exhausted,
and yielding at last to utter prostration, he
stretched his weary limbs upon the sward, and
I thought that the last race of my gallant grey
was run. How I nursed him through the long
night, how I covered him with my own share
of blankets and supplied him carefully and
cautiously with grass and water, how I trud
ged along on foot day after day for tho next
two weeks, and - cherished him like a feeblo
child, I have not time to tell ; but although
many a mile he carried me in after days over
these dreary deserts, and many a time brought
mo alongside the flying 5?a his mad ca-
roer, yet never again o!'V,n eignv uiuo
. ...;.ct'.'v.
Vith fifty un-
Steepie-cuaso s'uy j-
tamed coursers of .&.p his competi
d coursers or jt ms compeu-
and fifty rVik yelliDS in his
tors
rear
Is Phjladr"
j1 ans are employing
private wV
i'-sSrd their dwellings,
having n
c.the regular police.
.a . r
v4 i -y Ar.
COL. FREMONT. .
A friend has called onr attention to a very
striking testimonial to the talents and acquire
ment of Col. Fremont. It is found in an edi
tion of the Anabasis of Xenophon, prepared
by Dr. J. Kobertson, and published by Lippin
cott & Co., Philadelphia, in 1850. In tho pre
face to this work, which is dated Philadelphia,
August, 1850, Dr. Robertson, addressing him
self to the student for whoso use his book was
designed, relates for their encouragement what
ho calls "a very remarkable instance of patient
diligence and indomitable perseverance." We
subjoin his narrative :
"In the year 1827, after I had returned to
Charleston from Scotland, and my classes
were going on, a very respectable lawyer came
to my school, I think some time in the month
of October, with a youth apparently about six
teen, or perhaps not so much, of middle size,
graceful in manners, rather slender, but well
formed, and upon the whole, what I would call
handsome ; of a keen, piercing eye, and a no
ble forehead, seemingly the very seat of ge
nius. The gentleman stated that he found
him given to study, that he had been about
three weeks learning tho Latin rudiments, and
(hoping, I suppose, to turn the youth's atten
tion from the law to the ministry,) had resolv
ed to place him under my care for the purpose
of learning Greek, Latin and Mathematics, suf
ficient to enter Charleston college. I very
gladly received hirn, for I immediately per
ceived he was no common youth,as intelligence
beamed in his dark eye, and shone brightly on
his countenance, indicating great ability, and
an assurance of his future progress. I at once
put him in the highest class, just beginning to
read Crcsar's Commentaries, and although at
first inferior, his prodigious memory and en
thusiastic application soon enabled him to sur
pass the best. He began Greek at the same
time, and read with some who had been long
at it, in which he also soon excelled. In short,
in tho space of one year, he had with the
class, and at odd hours with myself, read four
books of Ca;sar, Cornelius Nepos, Sallust, six
books of Virgil, nearly all Horace, and two
books of Livy ; and in Greek, all Gneca Mi
nora, about the half of the first volume of Grae
ca Majora, and four books of Homer's Iliad.
And whatever he read, he retained. It seem
ed to me, in fact, that ho learned by mere in
tuition. I was myself utterly astonished, and
at the same time delighted with his progress.
I have hinted above that he was designed for
the church, but when I contemplated his bold,
fearless disposition, his powerlul inventive ge
nius, his admiration of warlike exploits, and
his love of heroic and adventnrons deeds, I
did not think it likely he would be a Minister
of the Gospel. lie had not, however, the least
appearance of any vice whatever. On the
contrary, he was always the very pattern of
virtue and modesty. I could not help loving
him, so much did he captivutc me by his gen
tlemanly conduct and extraordinary progress.
It was easy to see that he would Ouo day raise
himself to eminence. -
"Whilst under my instruction, I discovered
his early genius for poetic composition in the
following manner : When the Greek class read
the account that Herodotus gives of the battle
of Marathon, the bravery of Miltiades and his
ten thousand Greeks raised his patriotic feel
ings, to enthusiasm, and drew from him ex
pressions which I thought were embodied in a
lew days afterward in some well written verses
in a Charleston paper, on that far-famed une
qual but successful conflict against tyranny
and oppression, and suspecting my talented
scholar to be the author, I went to his desk,
and asked him if he did not write them ; and
hesitating at first, rather blushingly, he con
fessed ho did. I then said, "I knew you could
do such things, and I suppose' you have some
such pieces by you which I should like to see.
Do bring them to me.' He consented, and in
a day or two brought me a number, which I
read with pleasure and admiration, at the
strong marks of genius stamped on all, but
here and there requiring, as I thought, a very
slight amendment.
"I had hired a mathematician to teach both
him and myself, (for I could not teach that
science,) and In this ho also made such won
derful progress, that at the end of one year he
entered the Junior Class in Charleston College
triumphantly, whilst others who had been stu
dying four years and more were obliged to
take the Sophomore Class. About tho end of
the year 1828 I left Charleston, but I heard he
highly distinguished himself, and graduated
in 1830. After that he taught mathematics
for some time, and then went to study law un
der a certain celebrated Senator. His career
afterwards has been one of heroic adventure,
of hair-breadth escapes by flood and field, and
of scientific explorations which havo made
him world-wide renowned. In a letter I re
ceived from him very lately, he expressed his
gratitude to me in the following words : "I am
very far from either forgetting you, or neglec
ting you, or in any way losing the old regard
I had for yon. There is no time to which I
go back with more pleasure than that spent
with you, for there was no time so thoroughly
well spent, and of anything 1 have learned, I
remember nothing so well, and so distinctly,
as what I required with you.' . Here I cannot
help saying that the merit was almost all his
own. It is true I encouraged and cheered him
on, but if the soil into which I put the seeds
of learning had not been of the richest quali
ty, they never would have sprung up to a hun
dred fold in full ear. Such, my young friends,
is but an imperfect sketch of my Once beloved
and favorite pupil, now a Senator, and who
may yet rise to be at the head of this great
and growing Republic. My prayer is that ho
may ever be opposed to war, injustice and op
pression of every kind, a blessing to his coun
try, and an example of every noble virtue to
tho whole world."
BE00KS AND BUELIKGAKE.
Tho recent acts of tho South Carolina ruf
fian, who has at last relieved the House of Rep
resentatives from his presence, by resigning
his seat, are in strict keeping with the das
tardly deed which first brought him promi
nently before the public. That he is at heart
an arrant coward, whilst it might have been
inferred from the mode and manner of his at
tack upon Senator Sumner, has been roost con
clusively established by the course he has
pursued in relation to his difficulty with Bur
lingame of Massachusetts. It will be remem
bered that the gentleman referred to delivered
in the House of Representatives the most elo
quent speech which tho expulsion resolution
called forth, in which he commented upon the
Sumner outrage with just and scathing severi
ty. For this the gallant hero of the bludgeon
saw proper to challenge him to mortal combat.
Contrary to his expectations, in all probabili
ty, Mr. Burllngame promptly accepted the
challenge, fixed the Canada side of the Niag
ara river as the place of meeting, and after
sending Brooks word to that effect, repaired to
the city of New York, on his way thither.
After sone deliberation and consultation with
his friends, the challenger concluded that dis
cretion was the better part of valor, and de
clined to follow his antagonist to the spot se
lected, upon the absurd plea that he would
have to travel some seven hundred miles thro'
an "enemy's country," and was liable to be
attacked on the way. This is essentially a
back out a showing of the white feather
lor he would have been perfectly safe ; not a
hair of his bead would have been disturbed.
The true reason is, Brooks was afraid to meet
Mr. Burlingame, who is a dead shot. And
what will the South say to the conduct of their
champion, who had the courage to strike down
an unarmed Senator J According to the 'code
of honor,' he is disgraced beyond redemption.
Mr. Burlingame subsequently returned to
Washington, and both parties are now under
bonds to keep the peace.
A Father and Son witu Six Wives Apiece.
The Manchester (S.U.)Hirror, gives a long
account of the proceedings in that place and
in Rutland, Vt, of two men calling themselves
Dr. Lyman A. Abbott and James U. Abbott,
said to be father and son, who arc now both
under arrest on the charge of bigamy. It is
stated that they havo each, within a short pe
riod, married no less than six wives. The fa-
ther passed at Manchester, N.H.. as the "rich
old uncle" of his son, and in consequence of
his representationsjthe tradesmen of Manches
ter were victimized to the amount of several
hundred dollars. The career of both parties
for a number of years is detailed in theAiVrw
with great minuteness. At Newark, N. J., in
1851, the elder Abbott was married to Mrs. E
lizabeth Roberts, who soon discovered that he
bad a wife living in Syracuse, X. Y. He was
consequently arrested for bigamy, convicted
and sentenced to ten years in the New Jersey
Penitentiary, but was pardoned out after seven
months' detention. A Miss Gardiner, of West
moreland, N. II., states that she married the
same man, under the name of Dr. Lyman An
drews, in 1852. In Sussex county, X. J., in
1349, he persuaded a Miss Sherman to elope
with him, and they were married by a Justice
of tho Peace. He was soon after obliged to
abscond forjthreatening his wife's life in order
to obtain her property. It was also ascertain
ed that the true, original name of the "old
doctor" is Aaron Andrews Abbey, and the
true name of the young man James Henry Ab
bey the latter being the eldest son of the for
mer by his first wife. Both parties are held
for trial.
Tue Committee on Elections of the United
States House of Representatives have repor
ted in favor of Governor Reeder's claim to a
seat in Congress, as Delegate from Kansas.
They decline to send the case back to the peo
ple of Kansas for a new election, on account of
the certainty of a repetition of the disgrace
ful scenes which have attended previous elec
tions there ; and until the passage of an act, by
Congress, by which an election can be lcgally
held there, they recognize Governor Reeder
as the Delegate elected by the majority of the
citizens of Kansas. ' J
Commodore Robert F. Stockton has written
a letter withdrawing from tho contest for tho
Presidency. His associate od the ticket,
Kenneth Rayner, withdrew some time ago
This slightly narrows the contest, one ticket
being entirely out of the field. Fillmore, Fre
mont, Buchanan and Gerrit Smith are the on
ly men now regularly before the people as
candidates for the Presidency.
Advices from Key. West, Florida, state that
a party of 15 volunteers had attacked a band
of Seminole Indians, numbering 76, on the
17th ult.. and killed 17. . Th vr.lnn
one-third of their men, but succeeded In dis
persing the savage.
A LEAF FROM THE NATIONAL LEDGES.
An exchange, in a calculation of tho cost of
the public lands of our domain, says that tho
equivalent which we give for them amounts tu
about a hundred millions of dollars. This wa
believe to be an altogether inadequate esti
mate. That this is an immense country, and
a growing one beside, and that it will invento
ry, as the merchants say, at a much higher fig
ure than $100,000,000, a glance at Uncle Sam
uel's real estate operations will satisfy tho
most incredulous. Beginning, then, in 1303
when we first began as a nation to break a por
tion of the tenth section of the decalogue, we
purchased Louisiana from France, giving her
as an equivalent $11,250,000, besides making
out for her a receipt in full for obligations of
about an equal amount, for which she was pre
viously our debtor. This satisfied us lor a
while, until in 1810 we paid $5,000,000 to
Spain in order to secure Florida. Wo then
disbursed $100,000,000 more lor the extin
guishment of the Indian title, an operation
which was afterwards succeeded by the trans
fer of Texas and the acquired Mexican terri
tory, at a cost of $35,000,000, more. If we
then sura up the figures and add $5,000,000,
which is a low estimate for the expense of sur
veying this extensive territory, we find tho
sum total to be one hundred and sixty odd
millions of dollars, not counting the expense
of the Florida, the Mexican, and the contin
ued Indian wars. At the present time, say
De Bow's statistics, the U. S. own fifteen hun
dred millions of acres of land, which are worth
to it two billions of dollars. What a glorious
picture is here presented of the "responsibil
ity," according to commercial parlance, of
this great nation ! All these immense sums
have been paid at matnrity, and yet taxation
has rested as lightly npon the shoulders of tho
people as dew upon summer foliage.
Wo are apt to felicitate ourselves upon liv
ing in a progressive era. We do j but whoev
er lives to see a centuiy hence, when all this
huge domain is under cultivation and every
acre is occupied by colleges, newspaper offices,
telegraph stations, model farms and machine)
shops, will witness the prosperity of a country
teeming with a population of 500,000,000 of
souls. If wickedness don't keep pace with
progress in the arts, and the world is not pre
maturely destroyed for its presumption, the
greatest country that ever bad an existence
upon its surface will be these United States!
It is as certain as certainty itself.
A True Sarmixt. The other morning as
Father O'Xcii mounted the rostrum of the cha
pel at Bathfejiand, having just come over from
Ballygraddy on his one-eyed minus-tailed
shetty. which was tied to a post behind tho
chapel, he thus addressed bis assembled con
gregation : "My friends turn wid mo if ye
plaze, as the subject of our morning's medita
tions, to Paul's Epistle to tho Romans. But I
may as well tell you that some of ye knows as
little about what an Epistle manes as a Con
naught pig knows about plaiting a shirt front.
But an epistle, let me inform ye, is neither
more nor less than a lather ; and that Paul
wrote this lether aud addhresscd it is ivideni
to us all, but whether he saled the lether, or
merely stuck a wafer into it, all the commen
tators I have consulted have not been fblo to
inform me. Howsumever, my friends, be did
not address it to them dirthy Episcopalians,
northern schurvy Presbyterians, nor to them
theeven Unitarians, nor any of tltcm Heretic
onarians. No ! he addressed it to you my
friends the Romans. I intend to divide my
discourse this morning into three heads. The
first will trate on something that I know my
self, and that nivcr a one o' ye knows a ha'
potth about. In the second place, I mane to
spake to ye about something yourselves know
all about, and I know nothing about meself ;
and in the third place I mane to spake to ye
about something that naither you nor I knows
anything about at all, at all. In the first place
then as I was mounting my nag this morning
to come to praich to ye here, I tore a thump,
ing hole in the knay of my black tbrousers,
and yo knew nothing about that. In the sec
ond place you know when you're going to give
uie a new pair, and I don?t ; and thurdly, we
don't know what that Prottistant tailor oover
tha way will be after charging us for thira.
It is now evident that Messrs. Toombs and
Douglas, in the preparation of their Kansas
bill, have been acting fn concert with tho
Missouri propagandists of Slavery. By a tele
graphic dispatch from St. Louis, we learn
that a hand-bill was issued on tho 8th of July
by Stringfellow and his associates, calling np
on all good Missourians to go over into the
Territory before the 1st of August, so as to bo
in readiness to vote at the November election.
There can be no question that if the Senate
bill should become a law, hundreds of the bor
der ruffians would bo enrolled by the commis
sioners whom the President is authorised to
appoint, and, as they have repeatedly done
heretofore, defeat the wishes of the actual
residents. " " - v - -
The Mammoth Cave. An unknown pas
sage some two miles in length was discovered
in the Mammoth Cave, Kentucky, on the lltfe
inst. This passage is said to lead to cham
bers far surpassing any before discovered,
both in extent and magnificence, and makes
the whole length of the Cave eleven miles. .
gas