Newspaper of St. Mary's Beacon, March 28, 1861, Page 1

Newspaper of St. Mary's Beacon dated March 28, 1861 Page 1
Text content (automatically generated)

• raw now -if rw~TT m&r 4 V '— _ * _ ... Jwh' . . ■ . .. . • .. ... a . -T* ■■■■-■:• I. ~ ,-t JI.. L* <: I. DEVOTED TO LITERATUKE. NEWS. AXU OEXERAIj INTELUGEXCE. VOL. XVII. SMNT MJtmBUCON U PDIUIUBD RVRRT THURSDAY BY A. 7. KUO. * JAMBS A DOWNS. flwu ot SoMCßimox. — $1.50 per an-, HMD, to be paid within six months. No j subscriptioa will be received for a shorter period than six months, and no paper be discontinued until all arrearages are paid, •Xeept ai the Option of the publishers. Tbrxs or AIMfBRTWtHO.—SI pot square far the first insertion, and 25 cts. for Btnry wAeequent insertion. Twelve lines less constitute a square If the number •f insertions he not marked on the adver tiftesneni. it will be published until forbid, and charged accordingly. A liberal dc dustaon made to those who advertise by the year SELECTED MISCELLANY. PERSONA! HXBTOHT OP LORD BA CON FROM UNPUBLISHED PAPERS- The fallowing extracts are from a vol ume entitled, “Personal History of Lord Bacon. from Unpublished Papers.*’ By William HiPWoETii Dixon, of the Inner Temple. It is published by Tickuer snd Fields. Boston. In ibis fresh and delight ful work, Mr. Dixon has essayed, and sucoceafully, to vindicate from calumny the memory of the greatest Philosopher Kngiand ever produced. HalUm and Lord Campbell both failed to give us a correct history of Francis Bacon. Hume came nearer the truth. Lingsrd filled bis neges with the bitterest hatred. Macau lay’s portrait was not to be relied on and Pope’s famous Hue, ••The vimi, brightest, meanest of mankind." Imre falsehood upon its face. It whs left far Mr Dixon to portray impartially, al though in a florid ami afa-cted etyle f writiag-'—but, musical, withal—Bacon as hr truly was. The chief interest of this volume centres in the picture it gives of Boon’s social and domestic life, and the relations which he bore of son. brother and husband. The readers of Mr. Sped ding’s noble edition of the complete works •fßaoen, now being published in this country, will receive, with satisfaction, this life, which gives an insight into his private character, and thereby enables one the better, in some instances, to undor vtane and appreciate bis literary produc tions. bacon’s boyhood. Sweet to the eye and to the heart is the faee of Francis Bacon as a child. Burn among tho courtly glories of Vrk House. HUraed on the green slopes and in the Icaf |y woods of Gorhambury; uovr playing with the daisies and foiget-uia-uots, now with the mace and seals; one day culling posies with the gardener or coursing after the pigeons, (which be liked, particularly in a pie.) the next day paying his pretty wee compliments to the Queen ; he grows up into bis teens a grave, yet sunny boy ; on this side of hi? mind in love with nn turo, on that wide in love with art. Eve ry talc told of this plaything of the court wins on the imagination, whether he hunts the echo in Si, Jame’s Park, or eyes the juggler and detects his trick, or lisps wise saws to the Queen, and becomes her young Lord Keeper of ten. Frail in health, as the sons of dd men mostly are. his father’s gout and Btooe. of wbieb he will feel the twinge and fire to bis dying dsy, only Chain him to hit garden or his doek.— When thirteen years of age. he goes to read books under Whitgift at Cambridge ; when sixteen, to read men nnder Paulett in Franco, if be is young, he is still j snsste sage. A native grace of soul keeps off from km tho rust of the cloister, bo leas than the stain of the world. As Cam- 1 bridge fails te dry him into Broughton, Poem and Poitiers fail to melt him into Montioy. The perils be escapes are grave; the three years spent under Whitgift’s hard, cold eye being ue less full of intel lectual snares than are the three; coin spent in the voluptuous coart ofj Henri Trot*, among the dames and cour- j tiers of France, of moral snares. In the i train aif Sir Amiss Paulett be rides at sev- 1 enfaen with that throng of nobles who at-1 tend tho King and Queen-Mother down ’ to Biota* to Tours, to Poitiers; mixes with I thft fair women on whose bright eyes the Queen relks far sncceaw, even more then; on her wgpi nto and fleets; glides in and thmmgk the hostile samps, observes the Cathoue and Huguenot intrigues, and sees the great men of either court make love and war. But Lady Paulett, kind to hiMpa> mother, watches over His steps with core and love—a kind pees be return ton and repay* to the gpod ladr mh! to |as ki in later yea a. Forihim tbed’Agel eaaiaff lhotr miff, dm Xusseuses twine their cwrfr, in rain. me vwmim ybars. hfcuwsrfapse fa known to have blurred the beauty of young Cload ever drives him into brawls.; To toeW tif fcartemper and generosity than i his ova—to Dcvercux and Mwutjoy, to'. LEONARD TOWN. MD.. THURSDAY ' " | Percy and Vcre, to Saokvillc and Bruce! —he leaves the glory of Calais sands and Marylebone Park. If be be weak on the j score of dress and pomp; if he dote like a young girl on flower.* or scents, on gay ; colors, on the strappings of a horse, the 1 inns and outs of a garden, the furniture ■ of a room ; he neither drinks nor games. * nor runs wild and loose in love. Aimed \ ; with the most winning ways, the most >| glaring lip at court/ be hurts no htwhamiT I peace, he drags no woman's name into the wire. He seeks no victories like ■ i those of Essex ; he burns no shame like , Raleigh into the cheek of one he loves.— ’ No Lady Rich, as in Sydney’* immortal line, has cause • | "To Mask when he is named." When the passions fan out in most men, poetry flowers out in him. Old when! a child, he seems to grow younger as he grows in years. Vet with all his wisdom he is not too wise to be a dream er of dreams; for while busy with his .(books in Paris he gives ear to a ghost ly intimation of his father's death. All i fiis pores He open to external nature.— l Birds and flowers delight his eye; his' | pulse beats quick at the sight of u flue i horse, a ship in full sail, a soft sweep of country; everything holy, innocent and gay, acts on his spirits like wine oa a . strong man's blood. Joyous, swift to do l good, slow to think evil, he leaves on j every one who meets him a sense of • 1 friendliness, of peace and power. The i serenity of his spirit keeps his intellect i bright, his affections warm; and just a I I he had left the halls of Trinity with his 11 mind uuwarped, so he now when duty j *! calls him from France, quits the galle- j i ries of the Louvre and St. Cloud with . | his murals pure. BACON'S MOTHER. Lady Ann is deep in Greek and in i 'divinity; her translation of Jewell's ; • Apology" is prafaeu by the best critics. I and has been printed for public use. by j orders from the Archbishop of Canterbury; . yet the good mother is not more at ! homo with Plato and Gregory than j among her herbs, her game, her stew | pans and her vats of ale. Nathaniel Bacon, with hearty humor and a play j upon her name and habits, has made a 1 portrait of her, dressed as a cook, nnd ; standing in a litter of dead game. She is very pious; in the words of her sou, j "a saint of God.” Not quite a Puritan , herself, she feels ( u soft and womanish j sympathy fur men who live the gospel they proclaim; brings up her sons in : charity with all Protestant creeds, heal*l protection toward them, speaks the j preachers with profit; and, without any \ air of patronage and of her great kinsman, j the Lord Treasurer, the word which spoken in season, is quirk to save. | A bright, keen, motherly lady ; apt, as I good woman arc. to give advice. To 1 ; her, her famous children are always two i ■ little boys, who need to be corrected, phys icked, and fed; when they are forty years {old. and filled wiith all knowledge of; ■ men and hooks, she not only sends them j game from her own larder, and strong i beer from her own casks, having no 1 | great faith in other people’s work, but • lectures them on what they shall oat and drink, when they shall purge or lot bbod, how .far they may ride or walk.; or drive in a coach, when they may safely cat supper, and at what hour in the morning they shall rise from bed. TIIK FAMILY HOUSEHOLD. Lady Bacon and her sous are poor.— i Anthony the loving and beloved, with whom 1 Francis bad been bred at Cambridge, and in France, has now come home. His 1 j health, bad at the best, has broken in the; I south ; so he lies for a long time in bed 1 or on a couch at his brother’s rooms iu, j Gray’s Inn Square. The two young fol- ; : lowa have little money and expensive ways. * Anthony, as the elder brother, owns a seat at Ucdburn, in Hertfordshire, with a few farm* lying round it. Gorhambury., too, will be his when Lady Bacon dies.— But the rents fall far below his noeds, not, }to speak of the needs of his brother, who j is now prominent at court, a leader in the ! House of Commons, and a candidate for ! the glory of representing iu parliament the ! ! metropolitan shire. Their half-broth-, ; or. Sir Nicholas, who inherits Redgrave ’ and the broad Suffolk acres left by the i Lord Keeper, a man with penurious hab | its and a swarm of children, deem* his own ! | nine sous and three daughters burthen enough, without having to pinch for the offspring of Lady Aim. When he mar ries a daughter they may get an invitation to Redgrave; but his brotherly hospitalities cud with the feast. Nathaniel may paint ' their portraits and present them with 1 game on canvass, but the artist can do ] nothing to fill their mouths. Eduard has i a lease from the crown of Twickenham I Park, s delightful place on the' river, of i which Francis makes a home. Lady Ann j I starves herself at Gorhambury that she I may seud to Grab’s Inn ale from her ccl- i i tar, pidgeoua from her dovecote, fowls i ; from her farm-yard; gifts which she sew- i I sons with a good deal of motherly love and 1 j not a little of her best motherly advice. — j I f The young men take the love aud leave I the ’ advice, as young men will. Like Bnckhurst, Herbert, and the rac cf gay cavaliers, while waiting for better days and brighter fortunes, they relieve their wants by help of the Lombards and Jews. I i.adt ann’s advice. Like the ways of all deep dreamers, his . habits arc odd. and vex Lady Ann's affec tionate and methodical heart. The boy flits update of nights, drinks his alc-pos--* set to make him sleep, starts out of bed i ere it is light, nr may be, as the whimsey j takes him, lolls and dreams till noon. ; musing, say : the good lady with loving pity, ou—she knows not what ! Her own i round of duty lies in saying her morning I • and evening prayers, in hearing nine or ; ten sermons iu the week, in caring for; her kitchen :.nd hen-roost, in physicking herslf, her maids and her tenants, in mak ing the rascals who would cheat her pay their rent, and in loving and counselling : Uer two careless boys. Dear, admirable 1 soul! How. Unman and humorous, too.! the picture of this good mother, warm in ; ; her affections, scolding for us onr broid- 1 ‘ browed awful Verulam! “Grace t.nd ! health. That you increase in amending I jI am glad, God continue it every day j When you eeiso of your prescribed diet. 1 you need, I think, to be very wary both ; of your sudden change of quantity and of season of your feeding, specially suppers late or full; procure tee* in convenient time, it lielpeth much lo digestion. T j verily think your brother’s weak stomach to digest hath been much caused and con-; firmed by untune!v going to bed and then • musing, I knew nut what, when lie should J i sleep, and then, in consequence, by late { j rising and long lying in bed. whereby hi* • ■ men arc made slothful and himself contin-1 j iially* sickly. But, my sons, haste not toj j hearken to their mother’s good council in 1 } time to prevent. The Lord, our Heaven , ly Father, heal and bless you both, as lli> sous, iu Christ Jesus.” AT TICE AOL TWKNTT-FOt’R. How he appears in outward grace and ! aspect among these courtly and martial contemporaries, the miniature by Hilgard 1 helps us to conceive. Slight in build, ; rosy and round in flesh, diglit in a samp- ' tuous suit; the head well-set, erect, nnd 1 framed iu a thick starched fence of frill; ( a bloom of study and of travel on the fat, : girlish face, which looks far younger than 1 hia years; the hit and feather tossed aside ( from the broad white brow, over which 1 crisps and curls a mane of dark, soft hair; | jan English nose, firm, open, straight; j ; mouth delicate aud small-—a lady’s or a 1 ‘jester’s mouth--a thousand pranks and! humors, quibblos. whims, aud langhterc lurking in its twinkling, tremulous Hues;' such is Francis Bacon at the age of twcu-. fy-four. * THK MAIDEN OE HIS LOVR. She loved him and he loved her. But her mother, u widow and agin a wife, f having made two gmd matches for herself, t has si t her hear: on making great alliances ! for her girls, lo part to please her, stili 1 more to glorify his bride, Bacon waits and j toils that lie may lay at her feet a settled ' fortune and a more splendid name. The family into which—when lie can steal an ho tr from the c urts of law and the pur suits of science—lie goes a-courting. and in w hich he is in w an accepted lover, con sist* of four girls, their pretty mother, anti a bold, handsome, heady step-father of fifty-six; a gioup of persons notable from their private stories, and of romantic interest from the ir loves and feuds with the pliolosoplier, and from the part thev must have had in shaping his views ofj the felicities of domestic life. The four young girls are the orphan daughters of Benedict Burnham, merchant of Cheap-1 side and alderman of hi& ward; au honest - fellow, who gave his wife a good lift in the world, and left his children to take i their chance of rising among men who. with all their sins, are never blind to the merits of women blessed with youth.! loveliness and wealth. Alice is the first to fall iu love; but the three hoydens who now romp around her. and, per haps, get many a hug aud kish from her famous lover, will soou be iu their turns followed for their bright eyes and hrigh- i ■ ter gold. Elisabeth will marry Mcrvin Touelict. Earl of Castlchaven, that miser able wretch who, when his first young wife, the hoyden of to-day. is iu her grave, will expiate on the block the foulest crime ever charged against an English peer. The two little things now playing at Alice's knee will become, in due time, , Lady Constable and Lady Soanus. HIS WRDDINO. , The day is named; the tenth of May. i By help of Sir Dudley Carleton, we may : look upon the pleasant scene, upon the • pretty bride, the jovial knight, the romp- i iug girls, and the merry company, as < through a glass. Feathers and lace light i up the rooms in the Strand. Cecil has i been warmly engag<‘d to come over from I Salisbury House. Three of his gentle- ■ I men—Sir Walter Cope, Sir Baptist Hicks, i and Sir Hugh Beestm, bard drinkers aad < men about town—strut over in his stead, i flountiug iu their swords and plumes: yet j the prodigal bridegroom, sumptuous iu his I tastes as in LL genius, clad iu a suit of i rienofai Yetvct. purple ,to sho^.

otitbnfaet them all. is richly diglit; her whole do^n^Hjfeming to be piled upon her in cloth ; rFoments of gold. The w^nSflHitc jti porfofmed St. Marylqfamg^NHpi, t two miles from the Strand, arnoygnhe Unites and suburbs windiflff"*toqaiV| the ■ foot of Hampstead Hill f is blessed with any share hMßnpathy or *peaL4sJD3 x >t aredfaw and *htn ; iug party ride to the rural church or. that sonny tenth of May ? how the girls will ! laugh and Sir John wul joke, a> the wind thro’ lanes now white with the thorn and j the bloom of the pears; how the bridos { maids >catter rosemary and the grooms men struggle for the kiss. Who cannot I imagine that dinner in the Strand, though • the tiny hunchback Earl of Salisbury has not com over to Sir Joint's lodgings to taste the cheer or kiss the bride ? W> I know that tho wit is g- od, for Bacon i.- tiicre; wo may trust irir John lor the quality of his wine. LOUD CAMI*IKLI. IIEBUKED. I Of all *be sms against Francis Bacon, , that of Lord Campbell is the last and 1 worst. I wish to speak with respect of so ! bold and groat a man us oar present Lord 1 Chancellor. He is one who baa swept up ; the slope of fa in a by native power of heart ‘ and brain; in the proud course uf Ids life, from the Temple t<* the peerage, from the reporters’ gnllery to the woolsack. 1 ad- I mire tho track of a man of gonius—brave, j circumspect, tenacious, strong; one not •to be put down, not to be sot aside; an | example to men of letters and men of law. i But the more highly I rank Lord Camp ; hell's genius the more I feel drawn to : regret his haste. In such a case as the trial-of Bacon’s fame, he was bound to ; take pains; to sift every Hue to its rout, to stay bis condemning j*-n kill he had satis fied his mind that in passing sentence of infamy he wa* right, beyond (he risk of appeal. A statesman and a law-reformer j himself, he uught to have felt more sym i pathy for the just fame of a statesman and i law-reformer than he has shown. Not that Lord Campbell finds fault with Bacon ) whore be speak* by his own lights. ln . deed, there ho is Just. Tie has no words , too warm for Ha on’s reforms as a lawyer, . for his plans as a n.inLter, fur his rules as !a chancelh-r. When Lord Campbell know* his subject at first hand, his praise of his hero ring* out clear and load. But 1 there is much in tho life tf Bacuii which jhe does not know. He has not given ; himself time to sift and winnow. Like |an easy magistrate ou the bench, he hu* taken the pleas for facts. That is his fault, and in such u man it is a very i grave fault. baton's enemies. To ithrce such schemers a* an old chief ‘ justice, a master of the court of wards, and l an ex-chaplain to the lord chancellor , urged by the sharpest passions of cupidity and revenge, and hacked by the \vh>>b tribe of \ illiers, an accusation against the h-dder of the seals is easv enough to ; frame. The courts of law are full of abo | ses. The highest officer of the realm lias ho salary from, the state. Custom im poses on him a host of servants; officers of hi* court and of his household: masters, secretaries, ushers, clerks, receiver*, por ters. none of whom receives a mark a year from the crown: men who have bought their places, and who are paid, as he him self is paid, in feea and fines. The amounts of half these fers are left to chance, to the hops or gratitude of the suitor, often to the cupidity of the servant or the length of tho suitor’s purse. Letter from George Washington, to Gov ernor Green Wc publish belew a letter from General V\ asbingtun to Governor Green, which was written at the close of the Revolution ary War. The letter i* dated July IBth. 1783, and reads as follows : “Stu:—The great object for which 1 had the honor to hold an appointment in the service of my country being ac complished, I am now preparing to re sign it into the hands of Congress, ami return to that domestic retirement which, it is well known, I left with great re luctance. * * ♦ * The foundation of our empire was not laid iu the gloomy age of ignorance ami superstition, but at an epoch when the rights of mankind were better understood and more clearly than at any former period. * * * ♦ At this auspicious period the United States on me into existence as u nation, and if their citizen* be not completely free and happy the fault will he entire ly their own. t?uch is our situation, and such are our prospects. But notwithstanding the cup of bles sing is tbiw reached out to uh; notwith standing happiness is ours; if we have a disposition to seite the occasion and make it our own, yet it appears to me there i* an option still left to the Uni ted State* of America whether they will still ho respectable aud prosperous <>r contemptible and miserable a* a nation. Thin fa tho time of their polit ical probation; this the moment when the eyre of the whole world are turned upon them; thu fa the moment lo c*- , ■ . 5 j,J ;; . . Uhiisli or ruin then* national character i forever; this is the favorable moment to \ give auch a lone to the Federal Govern- I ment as will enable it to answer the ! ends of its institution, or this may be , the ill-fated moment far relaxing the i j powers of the Union, annihilating the •: cement of the Confederation, and ex i posing us to fhc sport of European poli r tics, which may array one State against ri anniber, tx prevhnl Raiir .growing impor tance and to serve their own interested 1 purposes. For according to the system I of policy the States shall adopt at this 1 moment they will stand or fall, and by . their confirmation and lapse, it is vet to •; be decided whether the revolution must t ultimately be considered .**. blessing or a i eurse—a blessing or :i curse not to the j present age alum-, for with onr fate will the destiny of unborn millions be involv • ed. W ith ibis conviction of the impor-, . i tanec of t lie present crisis, silence in me • would be a crime. 1 will, therefore, -peak to y ur Excellency the language i of freedom and <*f sincerity, without dis guise. * * ♦ * There arc foar things which I hum | My conceive are essential to th ■ well bc , ing. I may venture to say the existence, of the I. uiteJ .States a- an independent ;!iw _ 1. An indissoluble union of the States under one confederated head, i 2. A sacred regard to public justice. ; 3. The adoption of a proper peace es tablishment. 4. The prevalence of that pacific and friendly disposition among the people of j the I nited States which will induce th cm to forget their local prejudices, to ; make tuo*e mutual conees.-iuiib which J are requisite to the general prosperity, • and in some instance to sacrifice their ■individual advantages to the interest ot r the community. pj J 1 1 esc are (ho pillars on which tho | glorious fabric of i*ur independency :.iul national character must be supported.— ! Liberty I*’ the basi*; and whoever : would dare to sap the foundation, or j overturn the rtruuuie, under whatever ’•nccicus pretest be may attempt it, will ; merit the bitterest execration and the 1 j severest punishment which can be in- I liieted by his injured country. * * Yet it will be a part of my duty, nnd that of every true patriot, to assert with ; out reserve, aud to iu.>i*i upon the follow | lug piopositious: Tiiat, unless the State* will suffer Gon | grt'ss to exercise these prerogatives they are undoubtedly invested with by the Con stitution. every thing must rapidly tend to anarchy and confusion. 1 bat it fa in . dispensable to the happin* *s of the indi ■ vidnul States that there shou’d be 10-Iged ■ somewhere a supreme power to re gulate and ' govern the general concerns of the eon tederatod ilepubiic, without which the I uion cannot be of long duralion. That ’there* mu-t be a faithful and pointed compliance on the part of every State with late proposals ;nd demands of Gon irress or the most fatal consequences will , utr-tie. f l bat whatever measures have a ten fancy to dissolve the Union, or contri bute to violence, or lessen the sovereign authority, ought to be considered as hos tile to the liberty and independence of America, and the authors of theta treated accordingly. And, lastly, that, unices we can be enabled by the concurrence of j the States to participate of the fruits of the revolution, and enjoy the essential benefits of civil society, under a form of government so free nnd uneurrupted §o happily guarded against I the danger of opposition, a* has been ad vised and adopted by the Articles of Con federation, it will be a subject of regard that so much blood and treasure have been lavished to no purpose, that no many suf iV-rii gs have been encountered without a cuinpcimatioe, and that so many *acrifices have been in vain. Many other considerations might be here adduced to prove that, without an entire conformity to the spirit of the Un ion. we cannot u* an independent I’owcr.—lt will be aufficicut tor my pur-I pdse to but one ortno which seem i to me of the greatest importance. It fa only in our united character, as au cm- * i pire, that our independence is acknowl edged, that our power can l>e regarded. and our credit mipportcd among foreign na tions. The treaties of Eureqcan Dowers with the I nited States of America will have no validity on a dissolution of the Union. We shall be left nearly in a state of nature; or we may find, by our own unhappy experience, that there fa a natural and necessary progreation from thu extreme of anarchy to the extreme of ty ranny; and that urbitary power fa most easily established on the ruins of liberty abused te> licentiousness. * * If. after all, a spirit of disunion or a temper of obstinacy and perverseness should ■ manitVat itself in any of the Slates, if such an ungracious disp.*sition should attempt to frustrate all the happy effects that might be expected to flow from the Union, ♦ ♦ that State abme which puls itself into op position to the aggregate wisdom of the Continent and follows such mistaken and pernicious counsels will be responsible for all consequences. ■ t I have mu* freely incliuci], what I V NO- 13 r wished to make known beferAT KUtiVu ) (lered up my public trust to Hbose whfc . committed Rto me. * • * ** ♦-* ■'*> I I now make it my earnest pray or that • God would hate ywa aoi the States ojer • which yon preside in His holy protection : j that be would incline the heart* of the fit . ixens to cultivate a spirit of snbordhiatiefi .. and obedience to government: to entertain 1 1 a brotherly affoctii* and love for we • ; other, for their, follow ciiUcqp of the fn I ited States at large, ana paiwmaYry S W# , their brethren who have aerred in the i field ; and finally, that he would most • graciously be pleased to dispose us all to ) do justice, to love mercy, and to demean t ourselves with that charity, humility and i pacific temper of mind, which were the > characteristics of the divine Author of cup 1 blessed rdis:i"a. Without an humble in* . | timation of these things wc can never hope to be a happy nation. H 1 hare the honor to be. Ac.. Ac. , | C F.ORGK W API 11NHTOV. • Fils Excellency Wm. Grew, • -: Governor of the State of Rhode Island. * Tnr. Sorrurr.v CoNrr.DKnACT—Thu following is from the Bangor (Me.) tW [ < : on, and presents a view of the prospects :of the new Confederacy, which shows a, , truer appreciation of its future destiny [than has been exhibited by the generality of Northern journals: Were we to venture n prediction, vr would say that we hen* have the germ of | a Republic which history, at no far di-tani p day. Will record as the moat powerful an . . wealthy of ancient and aiodt rn times. Ii will grow, and that ton rapidly, by addi ( tions from the North. fr"m the South; and from the West. * * ♦ * p I Capital, which lias for the last threw j quarters of a century been aggregating in Northern cities, will begin to run Souths , ward. By degrees, the trade of Bosti’i, I N'*w York and l*hil:d*dpbia will decrease, whilst thaTi of t harlcstcti, 8a van nidi, Mo? r bile and New Or! ans, will profs ot ion ally , i increase. Immigration will also turn . thitherward. The North has Iwd, irrcvc- I eably lost, we fear, her largest and U*r 5 , j customers. ()ur future we may read the past of Canada. Negro iyi'vpatlu. * which has of latt Icon so active wuh .us, I will in a few months more* he like* a tale •that !.*• t.dd. We shall hear no more of slavery in the South than we now her*r of ;it in Cuba and Unia. Itmii N w Eng land, at least, the seeplre of empire has , ! departed forever, nnd that through ttio folly f her sous. I T iff: Tci.Ki:RArif and Storm* - Lieuten ant \V, A. Maury, at the Washington Obseivatory, whoae fame as a meteorolo gist i world-wide, lias again taken up thu subject of appb ing the telegraph to fore warning against storms. In a communi cation !o the S *r(‘.ary ( ,f jj. t . Tn-jvsurx, '•ailing his at < tstirtj tin- opemtiuli of the ; system in England, Lb uu nunt Maur * t-ays ; *1 < extend from flo* a to :!>•*, the bcm-ficcnt Kvstem of ilo ineli ' inl • arienl co-opL-n.l.oii and research, iu which all the maritime nations are engageo, would r* quire no frc-U ill upon llw r a , sury. ami to compel nidi i; a prpper fr tem of daily weather report® by teb'graph, for the purpose of giving .wuirrng in ad , Vance of all uid* spread storms and ixun jaivc changes of weather, would be *.L-* iconf'-rring of an incatimnlle boon, not .only to the shipping tnt of the coun try. but to itti agricultural alf), and in , do*ed to ail the avocations and put.suit® of the people lUx* arc a Ceded by the WcatL •r” ' . Eokhion Goiiur.—The fragments of i Lord Macaulay's “History of England ’ ha\c been printed, and will ly? out in a . fi*w day** M’ith n General Index to tln< * whole work, the volume will still Ik*-light*; not more than half die six of its compan ion volumes. 'l'he story runs yva (ujc years, from IdO.s to 1701, painmthe deal;i *of the exiled King in his foreign h^me* ! and the General Election of 1701. Tbit part of the nairalivc. we are glad t<v >av, is nearly perfect. Then there h • break , nnd from the rough notes left by the histo- I rum, it has h*en possible to extract tin ; more than a hrb-f sketch' of the close of ; William’s reign and life. These remain* are printed aa he left them; no connecting links attempted, no references to authori ties vended, and no original* for the vari ous Htatamcids ••ought. It ha* be* n deem ed wisest to 1-rtvc all the rop* •mobility with lit* dead. | . • i Tu?. Collection or the nrrtNcs ai xn*iSnrfM.—Theix.* is a proposition now (to have Oongn.*oia pme lw detdamatorv that all port<> in the acceding State* are not ports of entry. Tljis will not' move the difficulty of collecting the rev< - uue in vcbbcls, wbiob the Attorney OcU' - ral thinks would be uocotitntifacl.' tat would be highly Iwneficial ’to (he Btatra c f ; North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland *iu Delaware. There is every rgaauu w b - licv that will be m .do to to Lave the wboe of the thirty-foar States I of the t T nion represented in the ptxf Vo%* ;$ rs I** .n.-'