Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, January 16, 1851, Image 1
r , ~ 411111. 0 AA , n f ln o o4 s or - 0141 fit4C BY JAS. CLARK. .From the New 'York Tribune. THE AMERICAN FLAG IN ISM). ET WILLIAM BOSS WALLACE. We regard the American Banner as already levered."—From a kintion Newspaper. It is not severed ! No ! as soon The sister stars by tempest-wrack Shall be divided in their sky— And darkle into chaos back ! No! there it floats, with every hue Unditn'd, as when it first unfurled Against the storm, and proudly threw Defiance to the Tyr.mt's world; And still the awful Bird that wheels Amid the tempest wildly swelling, And calmly hears the thunder-peals Within his storm-god's misty dwellirig, Aye, still he guards from traitor-feet, The glories of that stranded sheet, And boars it in his guardian hand Resplendent over Freedom's Laud Clime of the Valient and the Tried! Where MARION fought and Wannstc died: Where Mointourn still to GUELEORD calls, And Valor walks through VERNON'S halls; While Honor muses in the gloom And glory of the Hero's tomb, Or chants that grand old lay she made Accordant with the dark-blue seas, That murmur wild where Freedom laid Her lion-souled Mit.TIADEs : Land of the Forest and the Glen! 'non hardy nurse of hardy Men! Land of the Mountain and the Lake! Of Rivers rolled from sea to sea, In that broad grandeur fit to make The symbols of Eternity 0, fairest Clime ! 0, dearest Land ! Who shall thy banded children sever God of our Fathers ! 0, dearest Land ! From Plymouth's rock to Georgia's strand— Heart pressed to heart, hand linked in hand— And swear, "the Union lives Forever I" Then float, float on thou banner, bright With glory from the olden fight ! Yes 1 stainless standard of the brave, Thy wreath of stars will deck the wave Where Honor once her Lawrence rolled To quiet in thy spangled fold: Still, shining banner of the free, The shackled Nations turn to thee, ,And when at home thy shadow falls Along the Armory's trophied walls, The ancient Trumpets long for breath— The dinted sabres fiercely start To vengeance, from each clanging sheath, As if they sought come Traitor's heart ! 0, sacred banner of the brave ! 0, standard of a thousand ships! 0, guardian of the Patriot's grave ! Come, let us press thee to our lips! There is a trembling of the rocks -I.law EivoLsito feels the Patriot-shocks— There is a trembling of the reeks— The West, the mighty West awakes ; There is a noise amid the pines— The white magnolias whiter bloom, Cpon the South new glory shines, And see the heave of PL' cave's tomb! 'Behold ! the troubled air is dark With martial ghosts—the hills are bright With band. of living men, and bark! Their voices come in mingled might— The Right shall live while Faction dim The Traitors draw a fleeting breath, lint Patriots drink from God's own eye. The light of Truth that conquers Death! Then fairest Flag! then dearest Land ! Who shall thy banded child' en sever? God of our Fathers ! hero we Maud From Plymouth's rock to Georgia's strand— Beart pressed to heart, hand linked in hand,— And swear, "the Union lives Forever!" WITAT we call good sense in the conduct of life, eansists chiefly in that temper of mind that ena bles its possessor to view at all times, with per fect coolness and accuracy all the various circum stances of his situation, so that each of theta may produce its due impression on him, without any exaggeration arising from his own peculiar haldts. but to a man of of ill regulated imagination, ex ternal circumstances only serve as hints to excite his thoughts, and the conduct he pursues has in general far less reference to his real situation, than to some imaginary one, in which he conceives himself to he placed; in consequence of which, while he appears to himself to be acting with the most perfect wisdom and consistency, he may fre quently exhibit to others all the appearances of A New VIGETADLE.-" Pa, do cannons grow ?" " No, you simpleton, but why do woo ask that r "Because the papers say as how the French base planted some in Rome." 0 Well, come to think of it, sonny, cannons will sometimes shoot if they are planted; and I have heard of them yielding grape," he added with a smile of satisfaction, as he fumbled his pockets for a cont, to reward the boy for being the innocent occasion of such n wise observation. Thera cannot be a more glorious object in crea tion than a human being replete with benevolence, meditating in what manner ho may render himself most acceptable to his Creator, by doing moat good to hie creatures. Good work, are an evict/nee of Chrifttian Faith, and not The Closing Year. It is a melancholy task to reckon with the de parted year. To trace back the curious threads of affection through its many-colored woof, and knot anew its broken places—to number the miss ing objects of interest the dead and the neglect ed—to sum up the broken resolutions, the defer red hopes, the dissolved phantoms of anticipation, and the many wanderings from the leading star of duty—this is indeed a melancholy task, but, with al, a profitable, and, it may sometimes be, a pleas ant and a soothing one. It is wonderful in what short courses the objects of this world move.— They are like arrows feebly shot. A year—a brief year, is full of things dwindled and finished and forgotten. Nothing keeps evenly on. What is there in the running calendar of the year that has departed, which lies kept its place and its magnitude ? Here and there an aspirant for fame still stretches after his eluding shadow—here and there an enthusiast still clings to his golden dream —here and there (and alas ! how rarely) a friend keeps his truth, and a lover his fervor—but how many more, that were as ambitious, as enthu siastic, as loving as these, when this year begun, arc now sluggish, and cold, and false? You may keep a record of life, and as surely as it is human, it will be a fragmented and disjointed history, crowded with unaccountableness and change.— There is nothing constant. The links of life are forever breaking. but we rush on still. A fellow traveler drops from our side into the grave—a guiding star of hope vanishes from the sky—a creature of our affection, a child or an idol, is snatched from us—perhaps nothing with which we began the race is lett to us, and yet we do not halt. " Onward—still onward !" is the eternal cry, and as the past recedes, the broken ties are forgotten, and the present and future occupy us alone. There aro bright chapters in the past, however. If our lot is capricious and broken, it is also new and various. One friend has grown cool, hut we have won another. One chance was less fortunate than we expected, but another was bet ter. We have encountered one man's prejudices, but, in so doing, we have unexpectedly flattered the partialities of his neighbor. We have ne glected a recorded duty, but a deed of charity, done upon impulse, has brought up the balance.— In an equable temper of mind, memory, to a man of ordinary goodness of heart, is pleasant compa ny. A careless rhymer, whose heart is better than his head, says : "I would not escape from memory's land, For all the eye can view; For there's dearer dust in memory's land, Than the ere of rich Peru. I clasp the fetter by memory twined, The wanderer's heart and soul to bind." It was a good thought suggested by an ingeni ous friend of mine, to make one's will annually, and remember all whom we love in it in the de gree of their deservings. I have acted upon the hint since and truly it is keeping a calendar of one's life. I have little to bequeath indeed—a manuscript or two, some half dozen pictures, and a score or two of much-thumbed and choice au thors—but, slight as these poor mementos are, it is pleasant to ruts their difference, and write against them the names of our friends, as we should wish them left if we knew we were presently to die.— It would be a satisfying thought in sickness, that one's friends would have a memorial to suggest us when we were gone—that they would know that we wished to be remembered by them among the fist. And it is pleasant, too, when alive to change the order of appropriation with the ever ' varying evidences of affection. It is a relief to ' vexation and mortified pride to erase the name of one unworthy or false, and it is delightful, as an other gets nearer to your heart, with the gradual and sure test of intimacy, to prefer him in your secret register. If I should live to be old, I doubt not it will be a pleasant thing to look over these little testa mews. It is difficult now, with their kind offices and pleasant faces ever about one, to realize the changes of feeling between the first and the last— more difficult still to imagine, against any of those familiar names, the significant asterisk which marks the dead—yet if the common chances of human truth, and the still more desperate changes of human life, continue—it is melancholy to think what a miracle it would be if even half this list, brief and youthful as it is, should be, twenty years hence, living and unchanged. The festivities of this part of the year always seemed to me mistimed and revolting. I know not what color the reflections of others take, but to me it is simply the feeling of escape—the re leased breath of fear after a period of suspense and danger. Accident, misery, death, have been about ns in their invisible shapes, and while one is tortured with phi, and another reduced to wretchedness, and another struck into the grave beside us, we know not why or how, we are still living and prosperous. It is next to a miracle we are so.. We have been on the edge of chasms continually. Our feet have tottered, our bosoms have been grazed by the thick shafts of disease— hod our eyes been spirit-keen we should have been dumb with fear at our peril. If every tenth sunbeam were a deadly arrow—if the earth' were full of invisible abysses—if poisons were Sown thickly in the air, life would hardly be more in- I secure. We eau stand upon our threshold and see it. The vigorous arc stricken down by an in visible hand—the active and basy suddenly disap pear—death is caught in the breath of the night wind, in the dropping of the dew. There is no place of moment in which that horrible phantom is not gliding among us. It is natural at each period ofescape to rejoice fervently and from the HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 16, 1851. heart; but I know not, if others look upon death with the same irrepressible horror that I do, bow their joy can be so thoughtlessly trifling. It sterns to me matter for deep and almost fearful congratulation. It should be expressed in reli gious places and with the 'solemn voice of wor ship; and when the period has thus been marked, it should be speedily forgotten lest its cloud be come depressing. lam an advocate for all the gayety that the spirits will bear. I would reserve no particle of the treasure of happiness. The world is dull enough at best. But do not mis take its temper. Do not press into the service of gay pleasure the thilling solemnities of life. I think anything which reminds me of death, sol emn : any time, when our escape from it is thrust irresistahly upon the mind a solemn time : and such is the season of the new year. It should he occupied by serious thoughts. It is the time to reckon with one's heart—to renew and form res olutions—to forgive and reconcile and redeem. Dangerous Fellow at Large. There is a dangerous fellow somewhere Down East, or somewhere else, who ought not to be al lowed to run at large. He threatens to play the very deuce and break things all in consequence of a faithless gal, who has broken her troth with him, and married some one else. If he should put his threats into execution, the Lord have mercy on us. Hear him : "I'll grasp the loud thunder, And with.:lightning I'll BILLY, I'll rend the earth asunder, And kick it away !" Now, that's attempting considerable for one man; however, if he is willing to assume the re sponsibility, and pay damages, why let hint smash away, we're not afraid. Ile next says:— " The rainbow I'll straddle, And ride to the moon; On the ocean I'll paddle, In the bowl of a spoon." Well, that won't hurt nobody. Go ahead, old chap; we like to encourage a laudible spirit of adventure:— "I'll set fire to the fountain, And swallow up the rill; I'll eat up the mountain, And be hungry still." Good gracious! what a destructive and vora cious animal he is ! Is there no way to appease his wrath and stay his stomach? Must we suffer this, just because his gal gave hint the milks, and took a notion to another? No, never. Down with him we say, if he continues to conduct him self in this extravagant way. " The rain shall fall upward, The smoke shall tumble down, I'll dye the grass purple And paint the sky brown." Hear that! A pretty world this would be then ! We might as well live in an old boot, with a dirty solo for the earth beneath and brown upper leather for the heavens above. "The sun I'll putout, Wills the whirlwind I'll play, Tuns day into night, And sleep it away." There is no doubt if he cuts the caper, the sun will feel as much put out about it as we shall. We leave it to the whirlwinds to say whether they are to he trilled with or not. And as for his turning slay into night, and sleeping it away, we would just as soon he would do that as not, that is if he can. But hear him again : " I'll flog the young earthquake, The weather I'll be-physic, Volcanoes I'll strangle, Or choke them with phthisie." Oh, ho ! for shame now. He dare not clinch with the old earthquake, and so he threatens to flog a new one, and that of the neuter gender. Oh you outrageous fellow, why don't you take one of your size 7 And then he says The moon I will smother, With nightmare and woe, For sport, at each other The stars I will throw." Serve them right—they have no business to be out when they ought to be in bed. " The rocks shall be preachers, The trees do the singing, The clouds shall be teachers, And the comets go spreeing." Well, that's all right enough, except getting the, comets on a spree—we don't like that pretty much. Our hero concludes as follows: "I'lltie up the winds In a bundle together, And tickle their ribs With a monstrous feather." Oh, cracky ! now he's done it. We did not think it in the gizzard of any man to do half so much. neatly we think that such a desperate fellow ought to be caught and put in jail for half a week, and safely guarded by ono flea, two mos quitoes, and a bed-bug. STATE'S ErtnalyeE.—A drunken lawyer on going into church, was observed by the minister, who addressed him thus: "I will bear witness against you at the day of judgment." The lawyer, shaking his head with drunken grav ity, replied : "I have practiced twenty-five years at the bar, and always found the greatest rascal the first to turn State's evidence." I'assioNs are winds to urge us o'cr the wave; , REANON is the rudder, to direct and to save. From the Cyracuse Transcript. WINTER. 11Y. E. A. C. " Oh when I was a tiny boy My days and nights were full of joy, My mates were blithe and kind ! No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye, To east a look behind !"—Tom Hoot), WINTER, that venerable and distinguished visi tor, ever so mindful of the sons of men, is with us once more. Like a worthy maiden aunt, he has always so planned his allitirs, as to pay us a good, long visit at least once a year. But from some un accountable freak of nature, the Old Fellow recent ly has taken to travelling incog., fur we were not even warned of his approach, until we found him on our threshold. He has not, as usual, been ush ered in under a canopy of dark portentous clouds, for the Sun has shown as brightly, and the moon looked as lovely, as in May. remember years ago in childhood, how differ ent was his coming. The thunder of his chariot wheels were heard in the distance. Stormy Bor eas heralded his approach. The dark and glowing sky seemed to indicate that a war of elements was near at hand. As he drew near, and his furious steeds joined to his tri umphal ear, with his retinue of attendants sent out from the caves of Eolus, became visible, so great was the consternation and alarm, that both man and beast sought covert, and even the Ike of na ture turned pale through fright. But when fear had subsided, the veteran was greeted with a hearty welcome, fur he always brought with him so many resources fur enjoyment that we hail him with delight. The husbandman, mindful of his coming, had toiled and sweat through the long summer months, and his labor having been crowned with abundant success, he was content to pass the winter in ease and enjoyment. Ills barns and cribs were well tilled, and his cellar was teeming witlt plenty. A supply of the choicest fruits and nuts were careful ly laid by in anticipation of cracking times. When the morning came, little John and Mary were pee ked off to school; Mary clad in a good homespun frock, and Johnny rejoicing in his first boots, and new coat and gilt buttons, the pockets of which were cremated with apples for himself and the "musters." He darts along, drawing his sled mt which are his basket, hooks, skates and little Mary and is soon at the door of the school house. After wiping the snow oft his boots, ott which depends his admission among the larger boys, with hispoe ket handkerehkr he enters. Every eye is fastened alternately on him and the boots. Ile meets the gaze with the eye of one having triumphed, and then casting a disdainful look upon the little "uns" in front, he proudly walks up the aisle and takes his scat back. The old school house by the way side, surroun ded by snow built palaces, methinks I see it as of yore, with the well beaten play ground and the fields adjoining cut up with innumerable paths, em blems of joy and merriment. Would dust I could again join in those mimic battles there fought, in which snow balls supplied the place of bullets, even though I should come off among the wounded. Then those skirmishes with buxom, rosy lasses, in which, from an innate courtesy, we always come off second best with our faces well rubbed with snow. This only made us blush, and we consider ed ourselves tolerably fortunate, if the impression of their nails were not left on our cheeks. A sleigh ride was ne plus ultra in the way of en joyment. The tipping over, if not attended with any serious accident, was filarial% and furnished careful mothers with gossip for weeks. But here memory is becoming too prolific. 'Twere useless to dwell farther upon what are deemed the trifling events of youth and childhood. In short, the hap py hours of youth are only equalled by the sorrow ful ones of age. "Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot des troy. And which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, To bring back the features that joy used to wear." erA shrewed old gentleman once said to his daughter: "Be sure, my dear, that yon never marry a poor man ; hut remember, the poorest man in the world is one that has money, und no thing else." Preaching hi the Point. Passing along one Wednesday night—for eve ning at the South is our afternoon—inlMontgomery, Alabama, I stepped into the Presbyterian lecture room, where a slave was preaching: " My Bredren," says he, "God bress your souls, ligion Is like de Alabama river. In spring conies fresh, an' bring in all do ole logs, slabs an' stick; dat hub ben lyin' on de bank, an' carrying dem down in de current. Bymeby do water go down —den a log cotch hero on dis island, den a slab gas cotchce on do shore, and de sticks on de bush , es—and dare doy lie, witlerin' and dryln' till conies 'tinder fresh. .Ins' su dare come 'viral of —dis ole sinner bro't it,, dat ole backslider bro't back, an' all de folk seem cumin', an' mighty good times. But, bredren, God bress your souls; byme by 'vivid's gone—den dis ole sinner is struck on his ole sin, den dat Mc backslider is cotched where he was afire, on jus' such a rock ; den one arter 'under dat had got ligion lies all long dc shore, an dare day lie till 'nutter 'vivid. Beloved bred ren, God bress your outdo, dew in de eurecta .1" I thought his illustrations beautiful enough for a more elcgatt dress, and too true, alas ! of oth- Cr 3 than hie own race.—Christian (Jerold. Rising in the World. You should bear constantly in mind that nine tenths of us are, from dm very nature and necessi ties of the world, born to gain our livelihood by the sweat of the brow. What reason have we, then to prcsnme that our children are not to do the same? If they be, as now and then one will be, endowed with extraordinary powers of mind, those extntor dinary powers may have an opportunity of devel oping themselves ; and if they never have that op portunity, the harm is not very great to us or to them. Nor does it hence follow that the descen dants of laborers are always to be laborers. Tho path upward is steep and long, to be sure. Indus try, care, skill, excellence, in the parent, lay the foundation of a rise, and, by and by, the descen dants of the present laborer become gentlemen.— This is the natural progress. It is by attempting to reach the top at a single leap, that so much mis ery is produced in the world. Society may aid in making the laborers virtuous and happy, by bring ing children up to labor with steadness, with cure and with skill; so show them how to do as many useful things m possible; to do them all in the best manner; to set them an example in industry sobriety, cleanliness and neatness; to make alt these habitual to them, so that they never shall be liable to fall into the contrary; to let them always see a good living proceeding from labor, and thus to remove from them the temptation to get at the i goods of others by violent or *mildew, means, and to keep from their minds all inducements to hypoc risy and deceit. Toleration. When Abraham sat at his tent door, according to his custom, waiting to entertain strangers, he espied an old most stooping and leaning on his staff weary with age and travail, coming towards him, who was a hundred years of age. He received hint kindly, washed his feet, provided supper, cau-i i him to sit down; but observing that the old man eat and prayed not, nor begged for a blessing; on his meat, he asked him why he did not worship the God of heaven. The old 111ast told him, that he worshiped the fire only, and acknowledged no, other God. At which answer Abraham grew so zealously angry, that he thrust the old man out of Isis tent, and expos, hint to all the evils of the night, stud an lingua ed condition. When the old mast was gone, find called to Abraham, and asked him where the stranger was? Ile replied, I thrust him away because he did not worship thee. God answered hint, I have suffered him these hundred years, although he dishonored tae; and could'st not thou endure him one night ?—Bishop Taylor. Christ and Mahoinet. Go to your natural religion; lay before her Ma ' hornet and his disciples arrayed in armor and in blood, riding in triumph over the spoils of thou sands who fell by his victorious sword; show her the cities which be set in flames, the countries which he ravaged and destroyed and the miserable distress of all the inhabitants of the earth. When she has viewed him in this scene carry her into his retirements—show her the prophet's chamber—his concubines and wives—let her see his adultry, and hear him allege Revelation and his divine commission to justify his lust and op pression. When she is tired of this prospect, then show her the blessed Jesus, humble and meek, doing good to all the sons of men; patiently in struting both the ignorant and perverse; let her see him in his privacy; let her follow him to the mountain and hear his supplications to God ; Cur ry her to his table to see his poor fare and hear his heavenly discourses; lot her see him injured but not provoked ; let her attend him to the tri bunals, and consider the patience with which he endured the scoffs and reproaches of his cnontiest Lead her to his cross, and let her view him in the agonies of death, and hear his last prayer fht his persecutors, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do."—When natural religion has seen both, ask which is the prophet of God I But her answer we have already had. When she saw part of this scene through the eyes of the Centurion, who attended at the Cross, by him she spako and said, "Truly this man was the son of Advertising. Allow me to say a few words on the subject of advertising, because I think there is a false deli cacy among some people on this matter. In my opinion, advertising is a legitimate messes of mak ing known the wants and wishes of both buyers and sellers—whether they . he an estate worth half a million of money, or for a pair of "Meelti's best razors." It is merely making an extension of your shop front in the newspapers, whether the articles be seen there or in the windows, in boils eases its qualities remain to be tested. It never can answer to advertise a bad article. By adver tising a good one, you extend your cosineetlom which mght otherwise be limited by the number and class of people who happened to pass yoUr door, and their connection. [Mechi's Principles to insure success in Thule.] ANCCDOTE OF VAN DV:K.-Van Dyck was the pupil of Reubens, and being fond of a joke, was in the habit of indulging himself sometimes at the expense of his master. One day when neatens had finished painting for the day, he left his slippers, as usual, by the side of his easel, on the floor. Van Dyck, when ho entered the giallo, noticed the slippers, and, taking advan tage of his masters absence, removed them and substituted an exact Me simile in the shape ore painting ! On the return of lineliens, he endeavored to push his pedal extremities into the slippers ; but what was his surprise on finding the slippers were not! 110 could hardly credit his own senses, till he stooped over and examined more closely the bentiful substitute of his pupil. Hie admiration Of the pupil's skill was only equalled by the joy of Van Dyck.— Trarelgr. VOL. XVI.-NO. 2. A Trifling Mistake. Some weeks ago, we had occasion to journey a short distance in Ncw Hampshire, by stage, after leaving the railroad terminus. It cha..ced that Bill a well-known wag and punster of that region, was one of the 'outsiders," on the way up. Bill is not a bad man, by any manner of moans, but it is also well known that he will "partake, or indulge," at times, and especially when traveling. int this occasion he enjoyed the companionship of a mysterious black bottle, to which he turned his countenance so frequently, en route, that he even 'acknowledged himself, finally, a "leetle over the bay I" (The nigh horse, by the by, was a bay one, and Bill sat on the left side of the box.) We were proceeding quietly along, listening to Bills joke's and drolleries, when on a sudden, the coach came in contact, with a huge stone in the rut. Bill lost his equilibrium, and tumbled heels over head across the dasher, striking heavily upon the sod. Bill arose to his feet, got the gravel from his nose and cars, and commenced berating the driver lbr his carelessness in upsetting the • coach, and thus endangering the lives of the passengers. " thunder yer dont 7" said Bill. '•You mis'able ease ('ic) sawney ! a knock ('ic) knock in' people's brains ouen this way !" The driver informed hint that the stage had not been overturned at all, and the passengers assured Bill that Jell's was right. Our good natured friend approached the vehicle again, and remounted slowly to his former seat out side. " Didn't upset, tryou say 7" "Not at an," replied the driver, " ('ic) if I'd a know'd that," said Bill "1 wouldn't ha' gel of 1" " What are you writing there, my boy 7" asked a fond parent the other din•, of his hopeful sou and heir, a shaver 'of tett years. "My eompethition, thin" " What is the subject 1" "International law, thir," replied the youthful Crotius. "But really, I than be unable to eon thentrate my identh, and give them relation, if I ant conthtantly interrupted in dial' manner by Ir relevant inquirerth." Mrs. Partin4tims on Politics. " I don't blame people forcotnplaining about the ektravagranee and costiveness of goveniment," said Mrs. Partington, as she was reading an ardent appeal to the people in a political news paper—she always took an interest in politics after Paul wee selected one year as candieate for Inspector. "I don't blame 'cm a mite. Here they are going to canvassing the State: Gracious nie ! as if the Dinh wasn't good enough for 'em to walk on. I wonder why they didn't have ile cloth or kidminis ter and done with it." "And I heatd, aunt yes terday," said Ike, "that some Wein were going to scour the country to get voters." dWell," con tinued she, that would be better than throwing dust in the people's eyes, that Paid used to tell about. Canvassing the State, indeed !" She fell into an abstraction upon the schemes of politicians and took seven pinches of snuff in rapid succession to aid her deliberation.—Paddinder. ''There is no saying &Mks me so much u that which I hear very often, "that a man does not know how to pass his time." It would hare been bdt ill spoken by Methasela in the nine hun dred awl sixty-ninth year of his life.—[ Cowley. 47`A modern moralist says—.ldleness and fhshionahle clothes destroy more young men than any other causes." JENNY taco IN TuAtts,t-The Washington Re public states the following incident in connection with the titir Swede's departure from that city : " When the boat was about to start, Mr. Reside approacheh her to take leave. She gave him her hand, uttering a kind "Good-bye," and then she said—"Oh, I have been so honored by the people of your beautiful city, by the great and good men of your nation, that" - -Jenny said "that," but she said no more, for Jenny's voice—that most beau tiful of all voiceshad failed her fur once, and Jen ny Witt weeping like a very child ; and it was thns that Jenny left us. We do not envy her the great gift she possess., but he will be greatly envied who shall ever possess herself." Steamboat Disasters. The Steamer Kuoxvill exploided her boilers at. New Orleans on the 17th ult., killing sevend of her crew, and wounding ten or twelve others. She had fdiir boilers, all of which exploded. The boat was a perfect wreck, and several other boats along side were greatly shattered by the explosion. kNOTHEIL—On the day following the explosion of the above vessel at New Orleans, the steamer South America was burned, and a number of lives lost. She was on her way down the Mississippi, and had about two hundred passengers on board, including one hundred and five U. S. troops from Newport Barracks. The boat was ran ashore, and the passengers and crew had no other means of es cape but lay the yawl boat. The cabin passengers, thirty-two in number, were all saved, with the exception of Mrs. Logan, the engineer's wife. Seventeen of the U. S. recruits, and several Of the crew also lost their lives, making twenty-five lives lost in all. A terrible disaster. SCOTT MEETING.-A large and enthusiastic meeting of the friends of tletteral Winfield Scott assembled at Harrisburg on Saturday last, and or ganized by the appointment of Captain John P. Huthford as President. Major Saunders opened the meeting with a very. eloquent address, in which .10 forcibly urged the nomination of Gamma Stlcttk. as a candidate for the Preeidenc7.