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Volume 3. camden, south-carqlina, February 27,1&52. number it.

THE CAMDEN JOURNAL.published semi-weekly and weekly by

THH1AS 3. gABBBH.TERMS.

The Semi-Weekly Journal is publLshcd at ThreeDollars and Fifty Cents, if paid in advance, or FourDollars ifpayment is delayed three months.The Weekly Journal is published at Two Dollars

If paid in advance; Two Dollars and Fifty Cents ifpaymentbe delayed six months, and Three Dollars if not

paid till the expiration of the year.* rivcpTTCirAfEMTS will be inserted at the follow-

ing terms: For one Square (fourtoen lines or less) in thesemi-weekly, one dollar for the first, and twenty-fivecents for each subsequent insertion. In the weekly,seventy-five cents per square for the first, and thirty-sevenand a half cents for each subsequent insertion. Singleinsertions one dollar. Semi-monthly, monthly and

quarterly advertisements charged the same as for a singleinsertion.2®"The number of insertions desired, and the editionto be published in must be noted on the margin of

all advertisements, or they will be published semi-weeklyuntil ordered discgntiucd and chargea accordingly.

"fresh garden weds.THE Subscriber has just received a new supply o

Fresli Winter and Spring GardenSeeds. As we test all our Seeds before selling them,the public may purchase from us with confidence. Wosell nothing that we do not feel assured will grow ifthe necessary cautions are used, uur supply consists

in part ofBEANS.English Windsor, Early Mohawk, Early YellowSix Weeks, Largo White Kidney, Refugee or

1000 to 1, Red French Speckled, Dutch Case Knife,White Dutch Runner, Large Lima.

BEETS.Early Blood Turnip. Long Blood, white Sugar.CABBAGES.EnrXy York, Large York, Sugar Loaf,May, Early Drumhead, Large late Drumhead, Savoy,Early Dutch, Green Globe Savoy, True Green Glazed.

CARROTS.Early Horn, Long Orange.CUCUMBERS.Long Green, Early Frame, Gherkin.LETTUCE.White Cabbage, Silesia, Curled Ice head.ONION-.White Portugal, Large Red, Yellow Dutch.PEAS.Early Warrick, Early June, Early Charlton,

Early Double Blossom, Codo Nulli, Dwarf Marrowfat,Largo White MarrowfatRADISH.Long Scarlet, Scarlet Turnip, Black Fall.SQUASH.Yellow Bush, White Bush, Summer Crookneck.777RNIPS.Largo White Flat Early Spring, Early

Dutcli, Yellow English, Red Top, Flat, Ruta Baga.CORN.Sweet Sugar, Six Weeks, Tuscarora, withOkra, Purple Brocili, Cauliflower, Celery, Egg Plant,Kale, Nutmeg, Melon, Parsley, Parsnip, Peppers,Tomatoes, Rhubarb, Spinagc, Vegetable Oyster.Also, a large variety of Choice FlowerSeeds.800 Asparagus Roots. For sale bv

FRANCIS L ZEMP.Jan. 9. 3u

SADDLE & HARNESS IVAKHG.

THE undersigned continues his business at the oldstand, returns his thanks for past favors and hopes

for a continuance of patronage. All work in hi* linowill be dono with punctuality, and where the cash is

paid, at the time of delivery, a discount of ton per cent

will be made.Jan 6, [2-lv] F. J. OAKS. 1

Teacher Wanted.

A LADY is wanted to Teach in a private family,about ten miles from Camden. One who understandsMusic, would lx) preferred.

Address the subscriber at Camden, S. C.Jan. 30.tf BENJAMIN COOK.

^Charleston Mercury, copy tri-weekly for two

weeks, and forward bill.

NEGRO SHOES AT COST.

THE subscribers will sell the remainder oftheir stockofNEGRO SHOES, at Cost, for Cash.

January 27. WORKMAN A BOONR' Robinson'* Patent Parley.

.4 NVxcellent, nourishing article of food, for Children11 and Invalids.too well known to "heads of families,"to require a minute description. Has alwaysbeen kept and sold at Z. J. DeIIAY'S.

Feb. 3.tf

WANTED..A Child's Nurse is wanted by a

gentleman living about 10 miles from Camden,a girl from 10 to 14 years of age. Enquire at thisoffice.

Feb. 10. 12swim.

TEACHER WANTED..a Teacher iswanted by a few Families in the country. For

further particulars, address the subscriber at Flat Rock,Kershaw District, S. C. SEABORN JONES.

Feb. 10. 12lmw.

In Equity.Lancaiitcr District.James R. Hunter, vs. Allen C. Blair, et al.Petition to

g Account and apply Funds.* TT is ordered that William McCorklc and Elizabeth

J. his wife, defendants in above case, (made so by theorder of the uourt,; ao answer, pieau urueiuui to mc

petition in above case, on or beforo tho 12th day ofMay, 1852, otlierwise judgment pro confesso will boordered against them.

JAMES II. WITIIERSPOON,Oom'r. Equity L. D.

Lancaster C. II. (S. C.) Feb. 5, 1852. 12.tf

Clear the Way.IN order to make room for Spring Purchases, I now

offer the following WINTER COOLS at prices unquestionablylow:Ladies' Winter Dress Goods of ever}* kind, from 12c.

upwardsBcantiful Brocade Lustres, 25, 31 and 37, worth 00c.

I G-4 English Meriuoes, all shades, only 50cFrench Morinoes, plain and figured, at N. York cOstMousslin DeLaines worth 37, for 13, 20 and 25cBeautiful fast colored Calicoes, reduced to 10c.First quality Brenoh Calico, now selling at 12c.White and Rod Elannel at a shade over costWhite and Grey DufTil ill mketsat 75, 87c. and $1

With a great variety of WINTER GOODS, at priicos temptingly low. My object being to raise money formy Spring purchases, I will sell sliem oflf at any sacrificeofprofits, rather than keep them over to neqt winter.Parties wishing bargains, will lind this on excellentopportunity for converting their loose change into

. good, cheap uud substantial Dry Goons.

| Jan. io.

AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS~SINCLAIR and Moore's 1 and 2 horse Plows

Two and three furrow PlowsPlain and Expanding CultivatorsSingle and double Iron spout. Corn Bhcllcrs.The above will be sold at Baltimore prices, with expensesadded, to close a consignment.Feb. 4. McDOWALL k COOPKIt.

Chinese JLu*traI WadiiiiK Fluid.THE Subscriber hrs just received a case of this invaluablelabor saving Washing Fluid, to which ho invitesthe attention of Families, and Hotel keepers.

Feb. 3 Z. J. HeHAY.

* I O Ito'es Heavy Ounnjr Bagging, for sale at a HarIS gain by P W RONVEV '

A BACHELORS VALENTINE.Returning home at close of day,Who gently chides thy long delay,And by thy side delights to stay?

Nobody.Who sets for thee the "old arm chair,"Sets out the room with neatest rare,And lays thy slippers ready there?

Nobody.Who regulates the cheerful fire,And piles tha bla2ing fuel higher,And bids thee draw th_. chair still nigher?

Nobody.When plunged in dire and.deep distress,And anxious cares thy thoughts oppress,Who whispers hopes of happiness?

Nobody.When anxious thoughts within thee rise,And in dismay thy spirit dies,Who soothes thee with her kind replies?

Nobody.When sickness racks thy feeble frame,And grief distracts thy fevered brain,Whospmpathiteswith thy pain?

Nobody.

Oh, now resolve, so help thee fate,To change at once thy single statp,And quick to Hymen's altar take,

Somebody.i

From the Literary World.. ..nnir/\V VTT«VAV

Ij '.fx D'-. .11* UI' mjimni va>v >av;i.

THE OLD WHIG AND THE OLD TORY.BY W. GILMORK SIMMS.

I cannot now recollect how old I was, whenI found myself one afternoon a pleased listen-er, as usual to a group of backwoodsmen, sittingupon a bench in front of a Carolina tavern.

While they chatted, an old man rode in fromthe country. He was well mounted; and,though evidently one who hadsome time sincecompassed the usual limits of human life, liecarried himself with all the erectnes» of a Colonel of Dragoons. The landlord, an excellentfellow, who was quite as fond us myself of

telling or listening to a story, received the oldman with peculiar deference. He wh.eperedme."This is old Col. K , of St. George's,

whom they call King K , in those partsHe rules the parish."

I watched the new comer with great attenlion. He sat down with the group; bilkedabout cotton, which then brought good prices,and, it appeared, was expecting his wagonsthat night. The old fellow seemed to be very jwell known, and was very communicative. Heevidently felt his position to be quite secure in I

the esteem of everybody. He spoke of his wife, i

as old as himself, and quite as vigorous, and heconfessed to full eighty winters of experience,I have obseived that, when men have fairlypassed the rn ddle period of life, and can no

longer venture to claim to be young, tliey then>m» nrrmd of their vears. So manifold are

t le subjects and the turnip of human vairty.Our Col. K. was however, an old man evi- Jdently. His white hairs and furrowed visagewere inconclusive proof of his frosty experi-e ice.frosty but kindly.and the facility andfreedom of which he spoke ol old times, and hisgreat knowledge of details, particularly duringthe revolutionary period,"assured all who heardhim, of a personal experience. He had gonethrough several anecdotes which I found singularlyfresh and pleasing, when another travellermade his appearance. This person seem

ed to be quite as old as the former. He was

well made, about the middle size, of light complexion, grey eyes, and very good features, takenseparately, but, on the whole, the expressionwas not prepossessing. There was somethingobliquitous and indirect in the cast of hiseye, and a lurking shadow of suspicion and mistrustseemed to gather beneath his great whi e

eyebrows. He, like the former, was erect alsoin his carriage, his step was firm, and his figurewas indicative of the possession, in past timesat all events, of great strength atid activity..He was evidently capable of great physicalendurance. But be complained ol latigue. Me

had ridden fifty miles that day."There was a time," he remarked, "when I

could have done that thing a'most afore breaklast,but I ain't good for'it now, no how.""And where might you come from?" demandedthe fi st stranger, Col. K , whom

I remarked, from the first arrival of the last

traveller, as curiously watching him, with somethinglike a look of recognition."Fairfield's my district," was the prompt rep'y-,."Fairfield! You're an old man like myself,"

s iid ( ol. Ku \ .... :i "

:\ rsiM'it woja ucjwmi uic unit; |/uoi,"That's what i call old ! I'm something over

that myself. Have you hecii all your life inCarolina ?"

"It's my native State," said the other."Then you must have sarved 011 one side or

t'other, in the revolution?'' was the remark madewith singular quickness.The person thus addressed, was rising at the

moment, and about to enter the tavern. Hecast a sidelong and suspicious glance at thespeaker, and answered in rather lower tones.

"1 reckon I did.""Them were the days that tried men's souls!"

remarked Col. K , in the somewhat stale.a.r.icu uc if all dpvs were not calculated to trv

j-

men's souls where they have any to he tried.But K continued:"Was Fairfield your native district?""No!" somewhat deliberately; "1 was born

in Collington." (OIlMnn )

"Ah! well, I usee to know every hole andcorner in Colleton, and almost the name of eve-ry man and woman that was ever horn there, jI'm a Colleton man, myself, and if you sarvedin your young days in those parts, wo ought toknow each other. My name's K ; butwhat may your'n be, old gentleman ?"The latter hesitated, but at length replied,

firmly."My name's B and he moved as he

answered to the tavern entrance."What!" was the exclamation of the other.

"What! you don't tell me that you are PhilB , the son of old Harvey B ,of MC .settlement ?""The very same,'' said the other, now turn-

ing lull upon the questioner. "What do youknow about him or me ?""What do 1 know about j'ou ?" cried the other,with a shout, and starting from his seat;

"what, don't 1 know about the bloodiest toriesin the whole settlement? Oughtn't I to knowyou ? Oughtn't you to know me and to fearmc too ? Have yon forgotten this?" and, dashingoff iiis hat, aud thrusting up his hair as he6poke, he showed a great scar which traversednearly the whole line of his forehead.B recoiled and started as if to seek shelterin the tavern, but before he could do 60,

Col. K , with tiger-like ferocity, sprang uponhim. The other, now that the thing was

unavoidable, snoweu mmseii no whys u.ictvward; and the two clinched, as if with talonsof steel, one hand of K Uging wound inwith the long, thin grey hairs of B , whilethe fingers of the other hand were griped abouthis neck with such a riveting firmness, that, inan instant almost, the eyes of the sufferer seemedto be starting out of their sockets. B ,

meanwhile was by no means imbecile or idle.He locked his enemy in an embrace of iron6inews, about the.waist, and seemed chieflybent upcn throwing him, a matter more easilyresolved upon than.done. And there and thus,these two old grey-headed men, each more

than eighty years of age, were renewing theconflict of half a century past, and presenting,in a real and terrific drama, the wrathful spiritof that fierce civil war which had never diedout in either bosom.The whole scene was over in a few moments.

At first, the company, taken completely bysurprise, sat motionless. But when their firstastonishment subsided, they darted in and tore

away the combatants from their terrible bug ofbate which they iiad taken upon ea<'h other,and which, by this time, had brought botli ofthem down upon the pavement. It was not so

easy to separate them, and after the lapse ofseveral minutes, when K lay down uponthe bench from exhaustion, while his enemyhad disappeared, it was discovered that the fingers of the former still clutched and held a handfulof the long grey hairs of B . Tb«» latterwas no more seen at the "Bull's Head.".The proprietor kept him out of sight till night,and then sent him to >i distant tavern, where he

lay perdu till K had left the city.The cause of this fierce momentary conflict

may be readily conjectured by nil those whohave any knowledge of the history of the Toryascendency of South Carolina during the Revolution.It involves a story, which, from thelips of K , whose digressions were endless,ami his episodes numerous, was a very longtime in telling. 1 may dismiss it in a ,fewwords. K and B were playmates inboyhood. They grew up to manhood together,but separated, as their fathers did, and as

was frequently the case, taking different sidesin the great issue between the colonies and thecrown. The fluctuation of the contest foundthe two parties alternately in the ascendant, andat such periods, neither exhibited much forbearancein the exercise of po.ver. Hate took theplace of former intimacy, and a wild spirit ofrevenge was begotten by Irequent excesses,K and B were yet, scarcely men,when they came to blows. They were separatedwithout doing each other mischiel, in theseparation of their several parties. Kwas one of Marion's men; B became a

Lieutenant of Loyalists, sometimes commandedby a British Colonel; at other tunes, particularlytowards the close of the war, being underthe command of Cruger, Leslies, or Cunningham.While on a scouting expedition, with a

small squad under his own control, Bpenetrated the old settlement of his boyhood.K and his father, the one with Marion,the other with Sumter, were both absent..When they returned they found the familyhomestead a heap of ashes, and the mother ofIv.. was murdered. The sister, who es-

caped to the house of a neighbor, and who hadonce been an object of B 's passion.who was supposed, indeed, to have regardedhim with favor, in spite ol her father's wishes. was the first to report against him. She allegedthat he himself had put the fire to theirdwelling, and she believed that it was his bulletwhich had stricken her mother as she fled.It is due to B to state that he solemnlydenied the latter impeachment. He admittedthe arson, and deplored it in his old age.deploredit to the landlord of the Bull's Head,and to others, by whom he was rescued fromthe fierce gripe of K . But Kcould not bu taught otherwise.

''He ldt a challenge for me, with my sister,the villain ! He boasted that all he wanted was

to stand loot to foot with me in fight!.and Isworn!. there, then, on bended knees in thestill smoking ashes of our homestead, that allother passions of my heart should give way totliu single one of vengeance!"

" lie shall have his,' 1 cried, 'hut I, too, shallhave mine, We shall meet, loot to foot, amione or both of us shall sleep forever at theplace of meeting!"How I strove for that meeting day and night

.how I watched and hunted for him.it is notpossible to tell. You ®ee he lives.both lives

.and I have labored and prayed to no purpose,Once only, in the war afterwards, did I encounterhim. and we were both alone. Weknew each other at the same moment. It was

close on the Eutaw settlement, I wa« crossingr muddy creek ford, when he mount- d a hundredyards or more before me. He lookedround as I crossed the creek, and instantly put

4 ~ txPT .if Pi 1 11 Cn/iorl'spills III Ills must iiuu ntrniuu at iuu opvw.,and I after him, as hard as I could drive. Hedidn't stop to fight.his heart failed him. Hisconscience took away his strength; but heloved life, and he worked for it bravely enpugh,though he wouldn't fight. He had an openfi .'Id belorc him, and I had to rise a hill. Thisgave him an advantage, but I had the belterhorse of t^he two, and once 011 a level with himI gained at every bound. I gave him both pistolsas we ran, but didn't touch him. Hestill went clear. He wheeled suddenly into an

old road, and for a moment I lost hiin. Thismade me wdd. What, with spur and sabre,for I gave my horse both, I seemed to fly. Iwas soon in the road myself, and he still fiftyyards or more ahead. And so we kept for a

mile. Then the distance shortened, and I feltsure of him. I whooped to him to stop andmeet the man he had challenged; but no! wa'ntman enough for that! Rut 1 could see everynow and then, that he looked about and that hecarried liis pistol ready in his Land Therewas hut that one chance for him. I kept on

the left hand side of the track, and pushed theharder. The hoofs of the two horses now

began to come down together, with one soundonly, and I made ready to cut him down, as

soon as he should close. His pistol didn't6care me. M v blood was like fire in my brain,j would have followed him, as we rode, intothe thick ofTarleton's Dragoons. It was a

delicious madness that I felt, when I thoughtthat.in a few minutes only. I should see himlying under my feet. He knew his danger.He knew he cou'dn't stand before me- Hewas afrid-dreadfully afraid but he kept his senses.I could see him every now and then lookinground to mark the distance between us, andthen, bow I shouted to him ! I remember everythingI 6aid. 1 tried to goad him so as to

make him turn about. I didn't wish to cut himdown wit.icut giving him a chance. His facewas mighty pah-, hut his lips were close sot,and his eves open but glassy, with a dreadfulstare. His time was coming I calculated it.

Everything ran through my thoughts m an instantof time. With three bounds more Ishould overhaul him certain, and 1 threw upmy sabre, gave my horse the rowl, all the wayup, rushing his Hanks lor six inches, and rose

up powerful in my stirups! Oh ! he was theluckiest villian. Just then he pulled triger uponme, But I wasn't hurt! i brought downmy sword with a sweep that would have cut

through and through the carcase ; but theblade seemed to hang overhead, and almostfail backwards on me. in another minute Iunderstood all. My horse reeled under me,stuck out his forefeet in the air and lolled over.

1 had just time to slip afl'us he was falling, andto save myself from being covered by the body,lie was dead, with the bullet through the brain.1 was on my feet in a moment hut 1 was at themercy of the villain. My pistols were bothemptied and my sabre was from my grasp andlay live steps or more from mc, by tne side oftne road, lie might have butchered me, likea dog, if lie hadn't been so mightly scared..As it was, lie gave me the oilier pistol, and,pushed.never stopping to see what he haddone, But he had ueaily finished my horse.1 felt the bullet rushing along the skull, and

- !! :a i.;...,leaiing awajr niu smii, uuu uic »» »»«

a sharp stroke like that of a cowaide. iMyeyes were soon filled with blood. When 1could see again he was gone. 1 didn't think1 staggered even, and 1 reckon he thought hemissed me. He did not wait to see. lie wu9

too well satisfied with his own escape; andwhen 1 could see again fairly, he was o(F morethan three hundred yards. I gathered up andluadtd my pistols, and reco*ered my sword ;and thru took with ail haste to the wdods, not

knowing how soon hejnight bring his gang up-son me. 1 travelled on loot all night, and was

three mile from our camp by morning. I gotthere salely ; and; from that day to this, never

once set eyes upon my enemy..When peacecame, 1 thought he had left the country withthe British. To think that he should have beenliving in Fairfield all the time, and 1 not knowingit! 1 reckon he has been a pensioner ever

smce, just as if he had been a true man, andnot a '1'ory ! Hut I will have him yet!The old soldier was disappointed. It was

not long before he paid the debt of nature..B did not survive him many months, as

I subsequently heard ; and the parties, their accounthtially settled on earth, are now both olthem in the hands of the avenger.

Tm: Feak of God.. He who fears Godwill be most likely to love Him also, ancUiewill be free from all other fear in the world!.And there is no one with so much natural or

constitutional hardiness as te be altogether safefiom other fear, unless he gives up also all hope,and makes himself like the beasts that perish.I mean, that though some may imagine dangerto exist where hardier persons see that it doesnot exist, yet it does exist really and near at

hand, then if the prospect of death he reallyopened before us, it is almost impossible, unlesswe have the fear of God, that we shouldnot lie tormented v ith the fear of death. Thismay bo said of the boldest, but great courageis as rare as any other great viitue; the greaterpart of mankind do not possess it. Most of usare afraid often; our usual abscerce of fear arisesonly from the abseence of danger. Weare afraid of sickness when we really think thatit threatens us, because wo are afraid of death;and any thing else which should bring deathoqnllv near to n? would bo recardod with equal

terror. And indeed, this is very reasonable, ifwe do not fear God; for what courage, or whatstrength, or what wisdom can guide or supportus in the hour of death and judgment? Woare going to that state in which we have nofriends, and where we have laid up no treasure.We have no friends, for even if many of our

eurlhly friends have die!" before us, yet we knowfull well that they rannot help us; either t'nevI.....O wl »_:.i r..:.i..1lid * V IV/MIIV1 VIIV JIICIIU will! IS III! IIICTIIU IU US,or else they are as destitute of friends as weare. In the darkness of that unknown world,the greater light does not dim the less, but itmakes them visible. lie who beholds Christin death, beholds with Him also an infinite muljtitude of friends; the sky is as it were thickset with stars, one differing from another starin glory, but all glorious; first the holy angels,then God's earthly children, Christ's redeemedwho have gone before us. But if the greaterlight be bidden, the lesser lights banish also;and not the faintest glimmer of the smalleststar relieves the infinite void. We need notcarryforward our thoughts to the judgment;death itself with its awful darkness and lonelinessis appalling enough to us, if we have notlearned to fear Christ.

But fearing him we lack nothing, nothing inearth or in heaven, in life or in death, in timeor in eternity. That one most saving and mostholy fear, the dread of His disp'easure. thedread of not having Him for our friend and Saviour,frees us of necessity from all fear besides.Nothing shall in any wise hurt us; forwe are then Christ's.

Hannibal and Napoleon.Scarce any one, a t all familiar with history,

can have failed to observe the extraordinaryparallelism so strikingly touched upon by Arnold.'Twice," he says, "in history, has therebeen witnessed the struggle of the highest individualgenius against the resources and institutionsof a great nation ; and in bo.h cases thenation has been victorious. For seventeenyears Hanibal strove against Rome ; for sixteenyears Napoleon Bonaparte 6trnve againstEngland; the effect of the first ended in Znma,the second in Waterloo." The extraordinarysimilitude of the genius, conduct, and militarycharacter of these two giants in arms, is farfrom ending with this genersl resemblance..Almost from point to point their destinies aresimilar. At the age oftwenlv-six Hannibal was

elated to the supreme command^of the Carthaginianarmies, and thenceforth, to the elose ofthe war, he disposed at his will the resourcesand held in the hollow of his hand the councils

|,ofhis country.! At the age of twenty-six, Napoleon assumedthe command of the army of Italy, and fromthence his fortunes and his will were those ofFrance. The scenes of elnrv of hnth were the

Alps and Italy. Both had the faculty of seeingat a glance where the blow must be planted,which should cripple the enemy; both deliveredthat blow instantaneously and iriesistibly.Both had the same reliance on their cavalry asan army of service.Ilanihal winning by it allhis greatest victories, and Napoleon insistingto the l ist that cava'ry, in equal force, equallyled, must conquer infantry. Both vanquishedevery leader to the very last; and there is probablyno one so prejudiced as to assert at thisday that either Hannibal or Napoleon found inIns conqueror a superior in strategy or militarygenius. Nor does the similarity end even herefor both found their final vanquishers in generalsmade in Spain by conflicts with their ownlieutenants, who were in no wise superior toother eminent leaders of their enemy; and bothultimately perished miserably, in exile, andvictims to the countries which they had keptso long in awe and perturbation.

As men of genuine greatness, I shall observeonly that no single act of Hannibal's evtr subservedto any selfish motive, or ministered tohis own aggrandizement; and that no single actof Napoleon's did not so. The considerationof self won'd seem never to have occurred tothe one,to have been ever present to the other.Both were fanatics for glory; the one becausehis own was his country's, the other becausehis country's was his own. Both wereaccused by their enem'es of great moral crimesand turpitude and both, in the main, unjustly.It is one of the sad truths concerning warfare,but no less a truth, that in playihg the game ofwar, with nations for playthings, and the worldfur a field, expediency must he in a great degreethe moral rule; nud that, if the game is tobe played at all, the sufferinc s or the lives ofindividuals, even if those individuals be countedby thousands, must not be considered, wherethe sufferings or the lives of millions are inquestion.The sin lies in playing the came at all, not

in the details or the practice of the p'ny. Boththese great men wetc stern and unrelenting incarrying out the nes which thev held it truepolicy to lay down neither, so far as historyshows, was tainted in the least degree by anythingresembling personal ctueltv. Both havebeen accused of faithlessness.a charge neverin any case to be much regarded, as brought betweennations; for nations are ever prompt todeclaim loudlv, whe the lo irs, against deeds,the like of which themselves c immit readilywhen the {winners, hi the case of Hannibal,the Romans had all the history writing to themselves;thence, Punic faith is to this day theproverb tor entire faithlessness. Had theFrench writers alone made the world's nnnnl6of the late great struggle, "perfidious Albion"had gone down a bv-word to all ages. Hadthe Engli.-h held the like s'ation, the utter faithlessnessof Napoleon would have become proverbialwith prosperity.

Nothing can he a real blessing or cure to thohuman soul but what is made by its own appropriation