Newspaper of Bedford Gazette, January 4, 1856, Page 1

Newspaper of Bedford Gazette dated January 4, 1856 Page 1
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11l GEO. W. BOWWA V. ]\EW SERIES. _ Select poctvt}. The Child's IMajhutisr. rv a\N prerroN. Who has not been a child, and made A playhouse 'nf.ith Ilie trees f And oho so old but growth young, While passing one of these f ] saw one in a cool green nook, And near a cottage wall, Uiii',l cunningly, with many rooms. And stored with playthings small. Prompt little hands had built stone walls, And swept the mossy lioors; Anil sticks across the openings laid. Were gravely called "the doors." On showy shelves, which oft would fall, Were treasures rare, 1 ween; The tnokeii china glistened there, In blue, and red, and green. The golden tight of childhood's morn, While gazing, round me stole, And fragrance from its far sweet shores Swept, breeze-like,o'er my soul. Dure more I trod the green mossed hank, Where, 'neath a school-house tree, From tinv acorn cups we drank, And called it "taking tea." We played our "meeting o'er again, And ! was preacher there; Ami with mock gravity we wore Our serious Quaker air. But thou who put on matron airs. And plaved the "mother" then, The faire-t one of all our school, Now walketh not with men. Thou, too, whose dark eyes proudly bearn'd, The queenliest of that hand. \M;d summer Toil* ha<t gone away Linto the Spirit land. 'i no-e mosses still their little cheeks "(iain-t -ister mosses lay; While of the three w lio leaned on them, But 1, the weakest, stay. Ob, earth would lie one funeral vale, Ami life a tlnng of pain, if beauty did not live for aye, And Doit and l.ove remain ! From the Democratic Review for December. lflu every ,11aj* NhottM be a i'olifician. Never be last at a feast nor first at a fray.— Smiid philosophy. Our t>■ >xl bilk, our worship ers ol the almighty dollar ncem to intei piet the adage thus : Never lie first to undertake a ser \ 1 to v or country, nor last to animadvert up on those who do. To them, money-making is a perpetual least; politics a perpetual fray. Nop and think, gentlemen. Is not vour nrioney making so intimately hound up with politics tnat, as a mere calculation of business it would be well for you to think ol it well lor you to try ami get at the principle of the thing ? We mean no disrespect to the men who are power ful upon 'Change—no slur at the spiiit of trade. To that spirit we owe our unparalleled march "I empire. But we are forced to speak the truth. Something more powerful than our will, always i impels us to say what we believe or know.— It is, therefore, a remarkable Get, gentlemen, rich men, great merchants, inagniticos, that the mechanic, lite tradesman, the laboring mart in America is commonly a better reasouer irt poli tics than you—any of you—are. Shall we hint tbe reason ? He stops and thinks. He reasons not things lor himself. By a shrewd, though lien rude logic, he arrives at great truths which always escape your finer sense. Thus he is almost invariably a Democrat: fur Democracy is the logical of all just political reason ing. Thus, too, (Tie hard-fisted are no lovers l "isms.'' no followers ol new prophets-; no -'icklt-rs for small distinctions. They stand upon bromi ground. Their Democracy is na tiona'- it is American: it embraces the continent: d ignores the imaginary geographical lines: it is universal and catholic. As truth is the first, lue last, and every part of real greatness, arid 'he people always discover it in the end, its counterfeits never long impose upon them. So '1 happen- that the great men of the people— 'avir idols —>uch, lor instance, as Andrew Jack y ufiare in their lifetime commonly hated by you vv hohave not time lo stop and see into the char acter of such a man as the people have. You a!> in too great haste to be rich at the expense "I the people, and he, or such as he, put stumb ling blocks in your way, fiv "removing the de- P" s 't>' from your "Foiled Stales Banks," or setting up "Sub-Treasuries" wherein the peo- P'ess money may he kept for the people's rises, '•otead ol Air. Brddle's and the "financiers,"— nut, lo you ! when he is dead, when he has had "quiet consummation," and "malice domestic" cirn not harm hint further, how you renown us grave ! It becomes one of your Meccas. You - ,! >ake pilgrimages to it. You applaud his vir ■Ues to the echo. You would even give five dol lar.* to raise a monument to him, so liberal is }our late-learned admiration. What! have vou forgotten, Dives, that he was a Democrat, a ;p ry I nan o( Democracy, scaling the heaven -Four exclusive privileges, and pulling its Ju- P'Fr from his marble Olympus in Chestnut "■■vet? Have you forgotten "Perish credit per utl commerce," but yet the Republic lives pure ' l,i ' undefih-d; the great principles of mart's e "• "al rights live on immortal ? Coijne, those PBBr e worth thinking of. It is worth your 11 p too,'° inquire curiously how you came 'truss dm light which was in them, and never v d till |( g aurole hung aliove the quiet grave ' Hermitage! You missed it bv being poor politicians. To be a good one. it needs that you should love your fellow man, and have a little respect to the golden rule ol Hiin who gave the charge, "Little Children, love one another." To he a good one, it needs that you should be interested in the political movements of the riav lor some great object,some purpose sanctified by princi ple, and not "to be stirred in without great ar gument The time we live in, the country we inherit, the duties we owe her, the complications, fore ign and domestic, in which the turn of the die may involve her, call for activity of thought and action. He who sits down by the way-side to-day to enjoy lite as an amusement, and drink his wine and gossip pleasant I v of the graceful ness of life, mav be diiagreeabl v aroused from his day-dream by the tramp and noise of the great crowd, surging pas! him on the march, under new leaders, and rushing to poss- ss the world in the intoxication of new ideas of victor ies to he achieved over all established principles of human association. Who knows? Do von, great man? Do you, dallier by the wav-side ? Do ynu, whose desire is to he let alone in the enjoyment of your pleasant things—who knows how far the mine has penetrated beneath the soil whereon ye walk?— Have you lead the signs ol the times, or are they more occult than the symbolism of the Pyramids to you ? You (lat ter yourself that all this will last your day.— That you shall walk securely till the last scene of all closes your peaceful history of enjoyment, and six feet of that earth, a little mine of your own, is all you need to lie in. But there is a secret mine there, and mystery is still reverend to the vulgar eye. Do you doubt it ? How else could the vulgar mystery and clap-trap of Know Nothingism have deluded so many honest men ? Ifas it not appealed to that prurient cra ving after the secret, the mysterious, which is a law of man's being? And on this mine you have walked placidly. You have never work ed into the heart of this mystery. It has been to your thinking onl v a machine for changing men, for turning out one set of office-holders and putting in another. But you have never thought how it was sapping the foundations, and drinking the life-blood of" that old Saxon frank ness, the generous boldn"ss of action and of truth and of thought which has made us the conquering and absorbing race in the modern world. You have never paused to reflect how nearly allied to each other the stem virtues of the old Roman stock of Bruti and Gracchi, and lite slock of American virtues were. It is worth the trouble of a pause, nevertheless. It is worth while comparing the character of different races and people, to see what the effect upon the one hand of openness, bravery, frankness, decision of character, determination to declare, in Hea ven's fare and al] men's sight, principle and [en - pose and tight an enemy with open manly steel foot to (hot eye to eye—iri the broad daylight live or die for it; and on the other of treach ery, deceit, maneuvering, plotting, midnight skulking, oaths of secresv, distrust, conspiracy ; the stealthy step creeping ghostlike to its design, the assassin's dagger, the coward's life of faith alone in all men's villainy as he knows his own! The first will goto make up the character of" a Democrat; the last a Know Nothing. Dii uveriife omen ! Is it not time that eve ry man uas a politician ? And now, indeed, when every other party has pandered to the hideous lust of these night-prowling defilers of their country's name—is it not time that every man should a-k himself, why is this? What virtue is there in this principle of Democracy which keeps it unspotted from the taint ? Js it not time that every true man should be a Demo crat ? The abstract and the concrete are governed by the same rate. Apply it,then. How many —how, indeed, do all pretend t<> admire the beauty and perfection ofonr institutions. With their fruit! How they prate of civil and reli gious freedom your rankest Know Nothing the ioadest mouther ! And. lo you! whilst they are exhibiting it with the stimulated glow of patriotic pride, and telling you how here tiist in the history of man it has been permitted to ripen fully for "the healing of the nations," they are laying deep plans to steal that glorious fruit, smuggle it awav into a Know Nothing lodge room, and serve it up to a select and virtuous party of the friends of Mr. Senator Seward.— Generous and immaculate conservators of the Constitution : felicitous exponents of liberit y of conscience, patriotic admirers of the virtues of misguided ancestors, who spread their table, and invite tiie oppressed of every clime to come and eat that delicate and luscious fruit of free dom: pious defenders of the faith once delivered to Americans hv the months of her Republican prophets, by Jefferson, and Madison, and Jack son— how shall we find words to magnify vour services to vour country ? Shall we not pull down the Whashington Monument : preach a crusade against all Dutchmen, Irishmen and others who were such unheard of villains as to go beyond (be sea to get themselves born ; slaughter them at once, and on the site raise a pyramid of tli-ir bones higher than that of Che ops: and crow n the whole with a dark lantern ? Look you now, this is what you aim at, or you aim at nothing. So our modern patriots, our wise philoso phers, our professors ol the .science of humani ty. our devout believeis in political rr.illeni ums, and devout sceptics as to the Biblical one, go about to manufacture political microscopes. Thev direct them through the sunshine of the press. They throw upon the wall monstrous exaggerations ofchoice atoms, such as the triple crown of the unfortunate gentleman who sleeps upon French bayonets in the Seven-Hilled City: arid all to convince the poor dear people that what they have been considering a tine .Repub lican fruit, is nothing more than a terrible col lection of distorted and pernicious animn!cu!a > ; that the real fruit has been munched up by Je suits, and other frightfully wicked persons, and this awful conglomerate left to poison them. Is it not monstrous that such inconceivable lies should find men stupid enough to belive them ? But they do; they have done so ever since the days of Guy Fawkes, and Sir Edmons horg Godfrey. Now you, who are playing the looks-on here in America, is it not time that you asked a few sensible questions about these political combinations ? Suppose you take the trouble to inquire what has the Democratic par ly ot the I nion done to forfeit its character ? Is this new system, which proposes to take its business out of its hands, and given it to a mon grel and hybrid aggregation of Whiggerv, Black Republicanism, and Exeter-Hall philanthropy, ail paired., not matched, in the precious union of Know - Notliingism, a true system? Is it good philosophy ? Is it true political science? Does it tend to promote the moral health and digestion oi the people ; Or is it not rather a miserable empiricism and bare-faced charlatan ry Ah ! you are too comfortable to lie a poli tician, perhaps. You care for none of these things. For your time'ambles withal. These questions, you sav, shrugging your shoulders, will find their solution without us as soon as with us. Don't disturb us. We are very com- li>i table as we are. Let us alone. Not so, gen tlemen. We commiserate you: but we must disturb you. If you will not li-ten to Thomas Jefferson or Andrew Jackson, hear at least a good Whig; accept a won! from Daniel Web ster : "We are not to wait till great public chiels come: till the government is overthrown; or liberty itself put in extreme jeopardy. We should not be worthy sons of our fathers, were we so to regard great questions affecting the general freedom." Does not that teach the les son, that in every thing which affects any, all should be interested ? that lor the rights of all, all should watch, and work, and pray ? The price of liberty is not only eternal vigi lance: it is eternal activity also. It is not enough to know truth, or foresee danger. It is necessary to act the one, and to confront tfie other. It is our province to support a party, and dis cuss political issues; but we do so because it is the solemn conviction of our reason and our hearts that the Democratic pariy is worthy of all good men's support, and the issues which it makes u ith all other parties such as will bear tile nicest scrutiny, and come out the mote strongly fortified and built up in their integrity bv the wiliest latitute of discussion. The question of the administration of the Fe deral Government is already before the country. Not many months, and it will he decided upon what principles that government shall be con ducted for the ensuing four years. Already Know Notbingisrn, Abolitionism, lilack Repub licanism, ami all their intermediate shades and. types ol dangerous heresies, are begit djwog jtki stir the passions, atid l<> warp tie VifsOftt merits of the people. Should either succeed to power, farewell to the greatness—farewell to the happiness of America. Shall these poisonous shoots he grafted upon tin* old American tree f ()r are you belter sat isfied with the favor of the good fruit it hon our fathers, and upon which we have thriven and grown fat as a nation '? You must look at these things. You cannot escape them. Re wise, therefore, in time.— Until this fatal proclivity towards mediaeval er rors—this crab-like movement backwards—is arrested, let every American citizen he a poli cian. S. W. C. From the Morns ami Willis Home Journal. The Night Funeral of a Slaw. Travelling recently, on business, in tbe inte rior o! Georgia, I reached, just at sunset, the mansion of the proprietor, through whose estate for the last halt horn ol my journey, I had pur sue!) my way. i\lv tired companion pricked his ears, and with a low whinnv indicated Ids pleasure, as J turned up the broad avenue leading to the house. Calling to a black boy in view, ] bade him inquire of his owner if I could be accommodated with lodgings lor the night. My request brought the proprietor himself to tlie door, ami from thence to the gate, when, alter a scrutinizing glance at my person and equipments, he inquired my name, business, and destination. 1 promptly responded to his questions, and he invited me to alight and en ter tlie house in the true spiiito! Southern hos pitality. lie was apparently thirty years of age, and evidently a man of education and refinement. I soon observed an air of gloomy abstraction about liini : he said hot little, and even that lit tle seemed the result of an effort to obviate the seeming w ant of civility to a stranger. At supper, tlie mistress ot the mansion appeared, and did the honors ot the table, in her particu lar department : she was exceedingly lady-like and beautiful, only as southern women are, that is beyond comparison with those ol any other portion of this republic 1 have ever seen. She retired immediately alter supper, and a servant handing some splendid llabannas on a silver trav, we hail just seated ourselves comfortably before the enormous lire or oak wood, when a servant appeared at the end door, near rnv host, hat in hand, and uttered in subdued hut distinct tones, the, to me, startling words— "Master, de colfin hah come." "Very well," was the only reply, and the servant disappeared. My host remarked my gaze of inquisitive wonder, and replied to it "I have been very sad," said he, to-day. I have had a greater misfortune than I have ex perienced since my lather's death, I lost this morning the truest and most reliable liientll bad in the world—one whom I have been ac customed to honor and respect since my earliest recollection : he was the playmate of my fath er's youth, and the mentor of mine : a faithful servant, an honest man, and a sincere christian. I stood bv bis bed-side to dav, and with his hands clasped in mine, I heard the last words he uttered : they were, '.Master, meet me in Heav en.' " Freedom of Thought and Opinion. BEDFORD, PA. FRIDAY MORNING, JAN. 4, 1858. His voice faltered a moment, and lie con tinued, alter a pause, with increased excite ment—

His loss is a melancholy one to me. If I left my home, I said to him, 'John, see that all things are taken care of, and I knew that my v ile and child, property and all, were as safe as though they were guarded bv a hundred sol diers. I never spoke a harsh word to him in al! my lilt', lor he never merited it. J have a hundred others, many of them faithful and true, hut his Joss is irreparable." f come from a section ol the Union where slavery does not exi-t, tand J brought with me al! the prejudices which so generally prevail in the fiee States in regard to this "institution." I had already seen much to soften these, but the observation of years would have failed to give me so clear an insight into the relation between master and servant as this simple incident. It was not the haughty planter, the lord I v tyrant, talking of his dead slave, as of his dead horse : hut tiie kind-hearted gentleman, lamenting the loss, and eulogizing the virtues of an old friend. Alter an interval of silence, mv host resum ed : "There are," said he, "many of the old man's relatives and friends who would wish to attend his funeral. To afford them an opportunity, several plantations have been notified that he will be buried to-night; some, I presume, have already arrived : and desiring to see that all things are properly prepared for his interment, I trust von will excuse my absence for a few moments." "Most certainly, sir : but," J adder!, "if there is no impropriety, i would be pleased to accom pany you." "There is none," lie replied ; an;] I followed bim to a long row of cabins, situated at a dis tance ot some three hundred yards from the mansion. The house was crowded with ne groes, who all arose on our entrance, and many of thent exchanged greetings with mine host, in tones that convinced me that they felt that Ire was an object ol sympathy from them! The corpse was deposited in the cofhn, attired in a shroud of the tine.-t cotton materials, and the cofiin itself painted black. I he master stopped at its head, and laying his hand upon the cold brow of his faithful bonds man, gazer! long and intently upon features with which he had been so long familiar, and which he now looked upon for the last time on earth ; raising his eyes at length, and glancing at the serious countenances now'bent upon his, jie said solemnly and with much teeling : "He was a faithful servant and a true Chris tian -. if you follow his example, and live as lie d.veri, none of you need tear, when llie time D#<ftiMJx>r you tat lay here." . A patriarch, with the snow of eighty win ters on his head, answered : "Master, it is true, and we will try to live like him." There was a murmur of general assent, and after giving some instructions relative to the burial, we returned to the dwelling. About nine o'clock a servant appeared with the notice that they were ready to move, and to know if further instructions were necessary. My host remarked to me that, bv stepping into the piazza, I would probably witness, to me, a novel scene. The procession bad moved, and its route led within a few yards of the mansion. There were at least one hundred and fifty ne groes. arranged four deep, and following a wa gon m which was placed the coffin. Down the entire length of the line, at intervals of a lew feet on either side were carried torches of the resinous pine, and here called light wood. About the centre was stationed the black prea cher, a man ol gigantic frame and stentorian lungs, who gave out from memory the words of a hymn suitable for the occasion. The South ern negroes are proverbial tor the melody and compass of their voices, and I thought that hymn, mellowed bv distance, the most solemn and yet the sweetest music that had ever fallen u|>on my ear. The stillness of the night and the strenglii of their voices enabled rue to distinguish the air at the distance of hall a mile. It was to me a strange and solemn scene, and no incident of my life has impressed me with more powerful emotions than the night funeral of the poor negro. For this reason I have hasti ly and most imperfectly sketched its leading features. Previous- to retiring to my room, I saw in the hands of the daughter ot the lady at whose house 1 stopped for the night, a num ber of the Home Journal, and it occurred to un to send this to your paper, perfectly indifferent whether it be published or not. J am but a brief sojourner here. I hail from a colder clime, where it is our proud boast that all m-n arp free and equal. 1 shall return to my Northern home deeply impressed with the belief that dispen sing with the name of freedom, the negroes of the South aie the happiest and most contented people on the (ace of the earth. INHUMAN TREATMENT.—The Liverpool .Mail says :— "Yesterday a seaman, named William Pollock, who arrived here on Sunday last, in the ship Assyria from New Orleans, died in the Northern Hospital, from injuries alleged to have been inflicted by Mr. Wilson, the second inate. An inquiry will be held before the coroner to day. Several other men, seamen on board the Assyria, are also at present in the Northern Hospital, in a very critical state, and one nam ed Ritchie, w hose arm is broken, is in so dan gerous a condition, that Mr. Hawthorne, the American Cousel, attended at the hospital yes terday to take his deposition. Ritchie, and the other men, who were all horribly mutilated say that on the voyage, two men, who were severe ly kicked and beaten, jumped overboard in de spair." HI-.wv DAM AUKS AWARDED.—Mrs. E. C. Hud son has obtained a verdict of $f,:)00, in the Su preme Court at Lancaster, against the Pennsyl vania Railroad Company, lor injuries to her husband, resulting in his death, in 1851. In February, 1854, during a severe snow storm, and when (he railroads were heavily blocked up with snow, a train of cars left Lancaster a bout six o'clock in the evening, for Philadelphia, but when they had gone about four miles they stuck fast in Urn snow, but subsequently became disengaged and commenced backing toward town, when they carne in collision uith anoth er fiain, which had subsequently left Lancaster, injuring the husband of plaintiff, in consequence of which he died. From the St. I'ati! (Min.) Pioneer Dec. 13. Return of the Last Party of Arctic Explo rers—The Death of Sir John Franklin and his Party Ascertained. We enjoyed the pleasure vesterdav, the 11th instant, of a lengthened conversation with Mr. James Green Stewart, a Chief Trader of the Hudson's Bay Company, and learned from him interesting facts concerning an exploration of the Arctic region, lately made by apart}' under the joint command of himself and Mr. James Anderson, another employee of that Com pa ny. On the return of Dr. Rae, the celebrated over land explorer of the Arctic region, in the sum mer of 1854, bringing with him the report that the Esquimaux of the extreme Northern lati tudes, had in their possession relics of the Frank lin expedition, the British government deter mined to make one further effort to penetrate (he mystery which had so long enveloped the fate of that expedition, and which had been par tially solved by the information thus gained by Dr. Rae. In furtherance o! this desire of the British government to follow up the clue thus unexpectedly obtained by the adventurous ex plorer,—to rescue, if possible, the survivors of any of the party ol whites who were rejiorted by ihe Esquimaux to have been seen near the outlet ol Back's liver in latitude about 68 deg. north, or at least to procure any records they might have deposited, the Hudson's Bay Com pany was directed to fit out a party oftried men, accustomed to the hardships of a polar life, to explore the region indicated by Dr. Rae. Acting under this command, of the home government, the Governor of the Hudson's Bay, Company, on the JBth day of November, 1854, issued instructions to Messrs. Stewart arid An derson to man and equip a party for the purpose stated. Mr. Stewart, with a party of fourteen men, therefore, started from his post, the Carl ton House, in 54 deg. North latitude, on the 7lh day of February, 1855, and proceeded to Fort Chipewyan, at the head of Lake Athabasca, in latitude 58 deg. North, at which point thev ar rived on the sth day of March. It had been determined to make the trip to the Arctic sea bv watef # jp far as was practicable, and the par ty, t lie re lore, retrained at this jiost until the 26th of May, busily engaged in constructing boats, and making other preparations lor their dreary journey. At that date the party left Fort Chipewyan, and journeyed by canoe on the Peace river, which connects Lake Athabas ca with Slave Lake, some three hundred and fifty miles in a northwesterly direction, till, nti the .'?Uih day ol May, they arrived at Fort Res olution, which is situated on an island in Slave Lake, about lat. 61 deg. North. At Fort Resolution the party was joined bv Mr. Anderson, who, with Mr. Stewart, had been appointed to the command of tiie expedi tion. Here another delay was made, for the purpose of reorganization, and making preparations, before attempting to penetrate the interminable fiozen North. These arrange ments completed, the party started out on the 22d day of June, for the head of Great Fish riv er, or as it is known on the map, Bark river, in latitude about 64 deg. North. Thence they fol lowed the course of the stream to the Arctic ocean. Mr. Stewart represents the navigation of this river as exceedingly dangerous—being obstructed by over one hundred difficult rapids. Over all these, however, with nothing more substantial than birch hark canoes, they passed in safety, and arrived at its mouth on the 30th of July. Here they n-"t with Esquimaux, wiio corrob orated the reports of Dr. Rae, and directed them to Montreal Island, a short distance from the mouth of Hack river, as the spot where, accord ing to their instructions, thev were to commence minute exploration. From this time until the 9th August, the part} - were industriously en gaged in searches on the Island, and on the main land, between (>7 deg. and G9 deg. North latitude. We cannot recapitulate the perils escaped, and privations endured, by the brave band, while seeking to find traces of their coun trymen who had perished on those desolate shores. Three times they providentially es caped being "•nipped," as Mr. Stewart express ed it, or crushed between moving mountains of ice. At last on Montreal Island, where their explorations commenced, they found snow shoes, known to be of English make, with the name of Dr. Stanley, who was surgeon of Sir John Franklin's ship, the Erebus, cut in them by a knife. Afterwards they found on the same island a boat belonging to the Franklin ex pedition, with the name "Terror" still-distinct ly visible. A piece of this boat containing this name was brought along with him by Mr. Stewart. Among the Esquimaux were found iron kettles corresponding in shape and size with those furnished the Franklin expedition, and bearing the mark of the British Government. Other articles known to have belonged to the expedition, were obtained from the Esquimaux, and brought by the party for deposit with the British Government. No bodies, however, were found, or traces of any. The report of the Esquimaux was, that one man died on Montreal Island, and that the balance of the partv wan dered on the beach of the main land opposite, until, worn out by fatigue and starvation, they, one by one, laid themselves down and died too. The Esquimaux reported further—that Indi ans far to the north of them who |iad seen the ships of Franklin's party, and visited them, sta- TER.TES, $2 PER YEAR. ted that they had both been crushed between tile icebergs. Mr. Stewart took especial pains ; to ascertain whether the party had cotne to tln-ir I death by lair means or ton! ; but to every in ! fjuiry the Esquimaux protested that (hey had I died of starvation. Lathering together the relics found, Hie party set out on their return on the 9th day of Au gust last. The return route did not vary mate rially from that taken on their way north.— Mr. Stewart has occupied the whole time since , in reaching our city—having come by the way i of the Red river country, and having been ab sent in ail about ten months. Mr. Stewart lelt I St. i'aui yesterday en route to the Hudson's Ray ; hi-adtjuarti-rs at Lactone, Canada, to submit an account of hjs adventures. And so, at last the mystery is solved. Biave ; Sir John, whose fate has awakened the sympa thising curiosity of the civilized world, it is i now known "sleeps his last sleep" by the shores jof the frozen seas through whose icy - islands lie had vainly sought to pass. Four winters back, as the Esquimaux said, the noble party, after I escaping Irom the ships which could no longer float on those dangerous seas, found release from suffering in death. Died manfully, too, as they | had lived; bravely, for consolation, that they met their fate as became spirits adventurous and I noble. No traces were found by the Esquimaux ito indicate even in their last extremity they j had forgotti n their manhood, and preyed on one i another. Tim last party of generous hearts, who sought ! to carry succor to the lost ones, or bring consola j (ion to the living, are returned, and the Arctic , wastes are solitudes indeed. And, in view of the suffering endured, and the noble ! lives sacrificed in fruitless efforts to widen the bounds of human know ledge, we believe it to jbe (lie prayer of all men, that so they nay re* j main forever. CHINESE FINERAL IX CALIFORNIA—CI- KlOl'S CEREMONY. j We find the following in a late number of the San Francisco Herald : j "Yesterday was a great day in Chinadom.— I A rich man had died. He had, during life, i been a prominent merchant, and occupied a po sition of influence among his countrymen.— His death was, therefore, considered to be an I event. If he had been a poor man he might j have been carried out, rolled up in a winding sheet, on the back of his son or some faithful | friend, and tumbled into a hastily-constructed grave, and with the last sod laid over him would j have perished all recollections ol his virtues or his faults. With the rich man it is different. His good qualities are enhanced in the public j estimation by a knowledge of his wealth. Vir | tne, when associated with large possessions, ■ shines out with pure refulgence, while pover ity obscures the brightest rays. It is so in civ ilized communities, and the Chinese have not been bad imitators. The Chines*- merchant at ! whose grave a most curious ceremony was per [ formed yesterday, died about three weeks ago. i He was interred in the L'>ne Mountain Cemete 'rv without any pomp. Yesterday, however, a | large number of his relations and friends pro ceeded to his grave for the purpose of making I offerings to his maims. A reverence for the dead is one of the most striking characteristics ;of the Chinese race. It is, in lact, the corner stone of their religious belief. On arriving at the grave the whole company alighted from the carriages in which they had been conveyed, and commenced the ceremony by spreading mats all around it. A roast pig was placed at the foot, something else at the head, while all over it were strewed apple dumplings, fruits, and i flowers. To an outside barbarian it looked | verv much like a well gotten up pic-nic, and, to all appearances, all that the Chinese at pres ent required in order to make a very good meal, which would certainly be a very practicable and sensible way of testifying their respect for the memorv of their deceased friend, were the chop-sticks. The <!• licacies wi i>, iiowe\er, ail , intended for the use of the hungry soul of the deceased merchant, which had not tasted hud for three weeks, (a privation that would no doubt have been seriously felt if it bad b-eti in tlie flesh.) and which it was supposed was ho vering a round, smacking its lips over the dain ty food they had provided for it. As soon as all the eatables were laid on the grave, the widow of the deceased hobbled up and took her stand at the foot. Around her head several vards of white cloth were roiled. A priest with a very curly pig-tail, a very long blue gown reaching to his leet, and a very long face, stood jat the head. The friends and relatives stood around. As soon as the woman commenced to wail, nil the clothes of the deceased were taken out of a trunk and set on fire. Among the i clothes were several pieces of tine silk, which j had apparently never been worn. The whole prohablv was worth over SSOO. Four canary i birds were let hxrse in order to help the soul of the deceased in its flight to another world, and ! when the clothes were all consumed, and the i canary birds had taken shelter in the neighbor ing shrubs, the priest with the long face rang a ; bell which he had in his hand, at the time nmt : tering a prayer or incantation. A general howl ; followed. The ceremony was concluded bv the whole I corn pan v marching around the grave, headed | by the priest, who rang his hell at every step, and looked very solemn, indeed. The pig and | the apple-dumplings and the fruits and the flowers, and the matting, were all carefully i packed up and placed in the carriages, and the j whole party then returned to town where, we are informed, the eatables exposed in the grave ! will be sold in small pieces at exorbitant prices | to those who are religiously inclined." Qjr™A Western paper publishes marriage no tices under the head of "fusion." | Oyil a small boy be called a lad; is it proper • to call a bigger boy a ladder ? VOL XXIV, NO. 19.